Chapters A Holsom Women's Social Chapter 11
“Do you mind, dear? I have to get the rest.”
Cherry blinked at Julia, her face hovering just a few inches away, approaching Cherry’s own. She had been trying to avert her eyes while the cum on the floor found its way to Julia’s mouth via her lapping tongue. A furtive glance told Cherry that the hardwood surface was now clean; all that remained were the strands still clinging to her face. She gulped, realizing what the other woman was asking permission for.
“I don’t mind,” Cherry murmured softly, blushing despite herself, and Julia gave a curt nod. Matter of fact. No change from how she had acted since regaining control of herself after that brief lapse, caused by her shock no doubt, upon discovering the state of affairs in the study. Cherry had watched the lollipop stick fall to the floor and braced for an explosion, but Julia had quickly recovered some semblance of her usual poise. She had even managed a tight smile for her husband when he told her what he wanted her to do. There was little warmth for Cherry though. Julia’s eyes were frostier than the semen that had grown cold on Cherry’s skin.
Her tongue, however, was hot. It rolled out from her open mouth, descending towards Cherry with only slight hesitation. The contact was indirect at first; cum forming a gelatinous barrier that slipped around with the tip, tracing a circular path down Cherry’s cheek, but as the full length of Julia’s tongue came sweeping around her chin, up the other side of her face, Cherry could feel the momentary friction where it ran over the scarce areas of her bare skin, leaving behind a slippery residue of Julia’s saliva and Harold’s semen. She shivered. Then it was off her, flipping a load back into Julia’s mouth.
Cherry found herself leaning forward, unconsciously mimicking the way Julia’s lips pursed, delicate neck muscles constricting as she swallowed audibly. What Cherry failed to notice, distracted by her focus on the maturely beautiful woman, was that swallowing was actually quite necessary for her, as well. She was too intent on Julia’s mouth, opening again now, tongue flopping out unceremoniously, to notice that her own mouth was rapidly lubricating itself as if preparing for a man.
The path back in the other direction went up over the bridge of Cherry’s nose. Julia’s soft lips slurping, her tongue still licking, following the trail of where the splatter had landed until she came to the strands that stretched across Cherry’s lips. Julia’s open mouth surrounded them totally, drawing Cherry in with a relentless suction. Her tongue rolled all around, hastily gathering the semen, snaking in between—inside!
Cherry shot back away from Julia, their lips parting with a pop, feeling her face flush even deeper than it had already been.
“What?” Julia said flatly, curling her tongue back inside her own mouth again. Her cool gaze fell on Cherry’s lips and she huffed. “Don’t be difficult, dear. There’s still some left.”
Cherry opened her mouth to respond — and out plopped a glob of silky saliva. Julia’s eyes narrowed, while Cherry’s went wide as saucers. She quickly gulped down her words along with multiple mouthfuls of her liquid-velvet lubricant. It was the same malfunction that had happened with Diane, earlier! Thankfully it seemed her mouth was not refilling now that Julia’s lips were no longer on her. She tried closing her knees to prevent any fluid from escaping her holes down below—and was horrified to discover her shins slipping on the already slick hardwood, her thighs coming together with a wet, audible squish.
“How curious…” Dr. Drestin had gone back to examining the screen of the mysterious machine on his desk. Cherry couldn’t see what it showed: there was only a large square composed of many smaller squares, seemingly at random. A code. Cherry’s world had once been full of them: on the pages of magazines, newspapers, even her own betrothal announcement. In male eyes, she knew they held much more information. Images, and even moving pictures too. For her it was easier to think of them as the symbol of something which men could see, and women could not. She wondered why Dr. Drestin was frowning at this one. Finally, he spoke out from amidst his thoughts. “Kiss her again, Julia.”
“I did not kiss her!” Julia scoffed, eyes suddenly blazing.
“That’s not what she felt.” He made a pinching motion with his fingers on the screen, and the pattern of squares changed slightly. It was the same motion men usually made in the air when they wanted more detail on whatever they were seeing. What that might signify was a mystery to Cherry, and she didn’t have much time to ponder, because he addressed her directly. “Isn’t that right, Cherry? Did you think she was kissing you?”
She glanced at Julia, watching as the other woman’s nostrils flared, icy expression darkening rapidly into a diamond-sharp gaze directed at the floor. Cherry silently thanked the Fathers that those eyes were not focused on her, until she realized Julia was looking at the minor puddle she had made. She shook her head, blushing as bright as her name.
“No! She didn’t—! I… I was just being silly!”
“You aren’t in trouble, Cherry.” He assured her, before noticing Julia’s expression, uncharacteristically steely. “And Julia is not angry with you. Are you, my love?”
“What?” Julia shivered, shaking all her various pearls, pulling her eyes away from the wet. “Of course not!” She assured Cherry, returning to a semblance of the woman who had greeted her so cheerily but a few hours before. “Cherry, I’m not angry. Not…not with you.”
She looked up pleadingly at her husband, “But I didn’t kiss her, Harold. Please, you know that I would never—”
“I know, darling. I know.” He rested a pale, gnarled hand on his wife’s head, gently patting her black-haired bouffant. “But you’re going to, and that’s alright. None of that silliness, now. We’ve talked about this.”
Julia pouted in a way that suited a woman half her age, but it dissolved soon into a determined and apprehensive smile, thinly painted.
Harold put a hand on Cherry’s head as well, and suddenly he was pushing their heads together, bringing Julia’s awkward smile right up to Cherry’s lips again.
“A real kiss. With tongue, if you please. We need to check something.”
“But, Harold…” Julia whined through clenched teeth, grinning even wider, with the effect of conspicuously peeling her lips away from Cherry’s.
“Kiss her, my love.” He said, patient as ever, but unrelenting in his grip on either woman’s hair. Even a man enfeebled by age could easily assert his will over girls like the two he was bringing together. “I know how you feel about such things—I shall spank you later, if your conscience demands it. As ruthlessly as you wish. Will that make you feel better?”
“I—I suppose…”
“Good. It’s a date then.” He winked. “Now lay one on her!”
“Um—?!” Cherry tried to add her own protests, but barely managed to get out a single noncommittal sound before he pushed their faces all the way together again.
The second “kiss” barely earned the title any more than the previous one had, with Julia rigidly pressing her lips to Cherry’s and shoving her tongue inside. Cherry didn’t want to close her eyes—it clearly wasn’t that sort of kiss—but Julia’s discomfited glare made her do so anyway, if only to avoid having to look at the other woman. It might help her not to malfunction so acutely, too. The sight of Julia’s severe expression, looking down on her with something near to disdain, seemed to be at least part of what was triggering it. Seeing that look in Julia’s eye made Cherry feel small, vulnerable. Like she sometimes felt with Francis, when he was in a mood.
But the feel of the other woman’s lips, her chest pressing Cherry’s more eagerly than her eyes implied; it was apparently still enough to confuse the intimate mods. Cherry could feel the small puddle growing underneath where she was kneeling, springing from the tight warm ball of energy between her legs, intimate fluid slowly pooling around her knees. Julia‘s tongue was sloshing it around inside her mouth, now, too. She tried frantically to swallow again before it would become too noticeable, hoping the other woman didn’t realize what it was.
Julia suddenly separated again, pulling strings of Cherry’s saliva with her, which she let fall rather than slurping them up like Cherry did with her ends of the drooping strands.
“Is that enough?“ Her voice was terse, and she was panting slightly, with strain rather than…passion? Is that what had Cherry herself panting so hard?
“Yes, darling, thank you.” Harold said, still without losing any of the genuine affection his voice always carried when addressing his wife. “I know how difficult that must have been for you. Blonde, and just the right age… Memories, I’m sure.” Julia suddenly blushed furiously, making a small choking sound in her throat as her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. But Harold wasn’t looking to catch her expression, or the implicit request not to say whatever he had been about to. His focus had already drifted elsewhere, and his hands left their heads, returning to the keys of the machine.
Addressing Cherry, he slipped back into his explanatory voice; the same soft, almost cautious tone he had used earlier when she was first waking up. “Cherry… it seems there’s more going on inside your head than I noticed at first.”
“Another modification?” She asked weakly, her mind still racing from the kiss (the kisses!), looking up at him, uncertain.
“No, I don’t think so.” He glanced at the screen again, studying it for a moment. “This seems to be a natural defect. Hmmm…Your father must have been aware; these things develop at a young age. The treatment can be invasive, however. Am I right in assuming that he had a light touch with you, growing up?”
“Yes,” Cherry said, gathering herself a little. If her father had been aware of it then it couldn’t be too bad, or else he would have fixed it, like he had fixed everything for her, once.
“It would have been easiest to nip this early, but I’m not questioning his judgment. Not your husband’s, either. Abnormal attractions would have shown on your bridal inspection as well, but he clearly chose not to have it corrected. Perhaps he worried the procedure would interfere with the imprint, or maybe he simply wanted to spare you the process. Interventions can be quite arduous at your age,” he glanced at Julia and she flinched slightly before recovering her deliberate, distant smile once again. “And every method has associated risks.”
“But what is it?” Cherry fidgeted her legs, feeling them slip on the wet floor, glancing at Julia. She lowered her plump bottom down to her heels, which felt odd without the hard plastic of pleasers to rest on, shrinking under the knowing eyes of both the husband and wife. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Well, darling, isn’t it obvious?” Dr. Drestin adjusted his spectacles again. “You’re attracted to women.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You’re attracted to women.” He repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. “In addition to men, rather than at the exclusion of. There would have been no choice about interventions in the latter case.”
“But—I’m a woman!” She objected, looking to Julia for support and finding only that smile which didn’t quite touch the other woman’s eyes the way it had when they’d first met earlier that morning.
“Yes, you are!” He barked, apparently caught off guard, and clearly amused, by the nature of her confusion. “And you happen to possess a keen eye for quality among your own sex! Is that really such a revelation to you?”
Her thoughts drifted unbidden to Diane, beautiful Diane, carrying so much silent fire inside that she was hot to the touch. There was, perhaps, maybe, something more there than Cherry had realized. “I—I just didn’t know that could happen! Is…is it bad?”
“Well that’s for your husband to say. Considering he didn’t bother removing it during your marital mods, I think we can extrapolate his feelings on the issue. I have to say that this is perhaps the first thing I agree with—in regard to his treatment of you, I mean. It really isn’t something to worry too much about, and the therapies can do more harm than good. Despite centuries of research, attraction is still an inexact science. Ironically, the more specific the target the better, from a medical perspective. Removing your attraction to an entire gender…well, it has a tendency to leave the subject…um, different. I’m glad you were spared that.”
“But I don’t understand. How can I be attracted to women if I’m not a man?”
He just shrugged. “You’d have to ask someone more versed in these matters than me. It is simply a fact, a defect for sure, but more common than you might expect. Perhaps Julia can explain it better, though I doubt she’d enjoy the telling.”
Julia shook her head tersely, aghast at even the suggestion.
“In any event, there are important implications to discuss. With your corrupted imprint affecting your perception of men so negatively, this attraction to women might actually prove useful.”
“It might?”
“Yes, I think so. Tell me, Cherry, did you notice anything odd when my wife put her tongue into your mouth?”
“Um…” She shifted her gaze to Julia again, noticing that the other woman kneeling across from her was distancing herself from the conversation, staring out the window instead. “No…I mean, aside from, um…the, uh, defect.”
“Exactly!” Dr. Drestin exclaimed, grinning at her as if that was sufficient explanation.
“Exactly what?”
“Well, Julia’s tongue undoubtedly still tasted of my seed when she pushed it into your mouth. How do I know? Because I could see your imprint reacting just as it did when I attempted to have you lick it from my finger, earlier. And yet, this time you swallowed it. You probably didn’t even notice! The aversion was drowned out, so to speak, by your attraction to Julia. Thus, panic was avoided!”
Cherry knew better than to contradict a man, especially when he seemed so certain of his conclusion, but she could say that there had certainly been at least some panic involved. He was right, though, as men tended to be. It was not the same terror that had momentarily consumed her when he had slipped his finger into her mouth.
“Based on what I’ve seen just now, I wouldn’t be surprised if the two emotions cancel each other out. Were you to be with a man and a woman simultaneously, your attraction to the woman might allow you to satisfy the man without succumbing to panic attacks. It would require further testing to be sure, and I’m afraid I’m spent for the time being. I will include this information in my report for your husband, however.”
Cherry grew morose. She had momentarily forgotten that the trials of today would all be recorded and relayed to Francis. It was of course important that he be made aware of all matters concerning his property, but the conclusions made today would likely tarnish what little affection he had left for her.
Sensing a lull in the conversation, Julia peered up again with a kind smile. “Harold, perhaps you should take a rest?”
“Yes, I fear I’ve over-exerted myself. I’m not as spry as I used to be. And I’ll need my strength if I’m to spank you properly this evening!”
“I wouldn’t mind the hand of a maid… if you don’t feel up to it.” Julia said demurely. The two obviously had a long marriage behind them, but a wife making suggestions still had to be done infrequently and with care.
“Bah! What kind of husband would I be, then? It’s never the same. Now, will you be able to see Cherry off without me?” Harold asked, caning his way back to the lounger amongst countless books, stacks and shelves, too many for Cherry to fathom, likely full of codes she couldn’t see and words she wouldn’t understand.
“Of course.” Julia replied. “Cherry, shall we go? You must gather your things before you can leave, and we really ought to do something about your face.” She sighed. “Again.”
After the heavy study door was closed by Harold’s attendant maid, Cherry found herself alone with Julia, facing a long hallway lined on one side by floor-to-ceiling windows. She imagined the view must be lovely. What she had glimpsed of the coast through the smaller windows in Dr. Drestin’s office had been an unexpected delight, but her censors were back in place now and the outside was once again obscured, the glass almost impeccably frosted. But Cherry could see the edges of the illusion now, wavering slightly where the panes met the wood, just enough to see that there was a hidden world beyond. She didn’t remember ever noticing that before.
Julia’s heels clacked against the marble tiled floor with each mincing step. She was setting about as fast a pace as she could while maintaining a ladylike demeanor, her chest huffing and swaying in such a way that Cherry averted her eyes in an abundance of caution. She no longer trusted herself to keep her inner thighs dry.
Cherry’s own footsteps were more tentative, and much quieter. Up on her tiptoes, she did her best to match Julia’s hurried, but cramped, gait. It felt so strange to be back on her bare feet again after so many years. As a little girl, she had loved running barefoot on the sprawling lawn in front of her father’s house, or down long white hallways not unlike this one in the basement of her uncle’s church. But now…
She was finding it incredibly difficult—impossible even—to put her feet flat to the floor. Heels had been a constant for so long, since before her legs had even fully grown, that her feet seemed to expect the shoes to make up the extra distance. Flex and twist and try as she might, she couldn’t convince them otherwise. She was stuck on her tiptoes.
Julia was even taller than she had been before, or rather, Cherry was shorter now that she had lost the extra inches from her platform shoes. Having fallen a little behind, Cherry couldn’t see her face.
“Julia…?” she murmured and was only somewhat surprised to see a pleasant smile when Julia swung her head around — but that was no guarantee of the other woman’s feelings.
“Yes, Cherry?”
“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”
“No, honey, I’m not.” Julia said soothingly. There was far more of the warm hostess in her demeanor now than had been present in the study. “I hope that you aren’t upset with me. I never should’ve left you alone with those men. I have been kicking myself for it ever since I returned to find your dress abandoned on the floor. Hopefully Harold will be rested enough by this evening to give me a proper punishment before bed. He sometimes needs a while to recover after… ahem… after exerting himself.”
Cherry winced.
“I didn’t mean to upset you by getting too close to your husband, I—”
“Cherry,” Julia cut her off politely. “That’s not what upsets me about this whole tragic affair. Do not fret.”
The two began walking again, toward the Social. The air between them hung like it was stale, heavy.
“That said,” Julia kept on, breaking the tension, “if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not hear the details of what occured while I was under censors. It was right of Harold to assess you. He was — and is — the very best. Girls used to come from as far off as the Island, before he ended his practice. Since then, I’ll admit I grew quite comfortable having him all to myself for… oh dear… an unfashionable length of time. I know it’s quite unreasonable to be possessive, but you can allow me that, can’t you?”
“Yes, of course! I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry—” She winced, realizing that she was apologizing again. “What about the other thing? You seemed mad…”
Julia stopped dead, again, this time dropping into a hushed tone.
“That we need never discuss. Especially not in polite company.”
“But we’re alone right now,” Cherry said, frowning at the empty hallway, “and you seemed to know something about it. Please, Mrs. Drestin. I didn’t even know it was possible and I don’t know who else I’ll ever be able to ask.” There might be someone at the Social, if she was ever invited back. But how would she possibly go about bringing up such a subject? Julia was right that it didn’t seem a thing for polite company.
“You can ask your husband, dear. It’s ultimately up to him whether to have it corrected.”
“Francis doesn’t like to tell me things. He already knew about it, you heard that —defects would have shown up in my marital inspections— and he didn’t tell me! And he didn’t tell me about the stuff he did change in my mind either—I have something called an imprint, I don’t know if Dr Drestin told you before I woke up—“
“He did, in a manner of speaking. He likes to think out loud.”
“Well, that seems like a much bigger deal, and I probably never would have known about it if those men hadn’t…” She trailed off, drilling her eyes into the wallpaper and blinking fast to not make a mess of herself again.
“Eyes back here, young lady.” Julia said gently. “Focus, no need to think of such foulness yet. There you are.” She seemed on the verge of offering a comforting stroke of the leg, but hesitated. After a moment of consideration, she did it anyway, touching Cherry’s calf with her own. “I’m glad you’re ok, dear. When I saw your dress on the floor, and the mess on the carpet, I thought perhaps you were… Well, it was a relief to find you safely back in the powder room, even if a little worse for wear.”
“Thanks.” Cherry sniffled, unladylike. “I don’t know if I even want to know anything more about the imprint or why Francis wanted it in the first place. But the other thing…my ‘natural defect’…I think I want to know why I feel those things. When you kissed me, I—”
“SHHH!” Julia burst, stamping her foot back to the tiled floor and peering down the hall to confirm that they were still alone, as if a wandering guest might suddenly appear to overhear. The outlet into the foyer was visible at the far end, with the sitting room only a short distance beyond, but there was little chance of someone approaching unseen. “What did I tell you? We need not discuss it! Ever!”
“But whyyy?” Cherry pouted, stamping her own bare toes, her confused emotions threatening to boil into a tantrum worthy of the fact that she was likely less than half the other woman’s age. “Your husband said it wasn’t bad!”
“He did not say that.” Julia snapped. “He called it a defect didn’t he?”
“Yeah…” Cherry said glumly, her momentary spike of impetuousness deflating just as suddenly as it had risen. “So it is bad, then…”
“It’s… complicated, honey. Aside from his professional experience, Harold is among the majority of men who simply don’t give the matter much attention — just as you should not. A few…” She clicked her heel nervously, then huffed as if frustrated with herself for the pause. “A few men feel very negatively, and with good reason. Some men even find it entertaining, or so I understand, though I can’t imagine why. Like I said, ask your husband. He should be able to tell you what to think.”
“But you seem to mind it a lot more than your husband does…”
“My opinions of such perver—…” Julia glanced down at Cherry’s glum expression and reconsidered her words, “… such attractions were formed, rather irreversibly, while I was still in my father’s possession.” A deep breath, and a well-practiced smile. “Thankfully Harold allows me my own opinions on matters he considers of little import.”
“It feels important…”
“And it is. Though you will find that most men disagree. They are right, of course, in that it should never be treated with the importance of the bond between man and wife. A woman cannot love another woman. Think about it. Who would own who?”
“Right…” Cherry nodded slowly. “That’d be silly.”
“Exactly.” Julia smiled, “And that’s just how most men see it. Silly, and harmless. And perhaps that’s true, for simple attraction. Perhaps. But I happen to know that the lesser sex is even more vulnerable, and more treacherous, than our good-natured guardians suspect.
“It is possible for a very similar feeling to develop. Very similar. Why, it feels almost the same as what you should only feel for your husband. It is a terrible, awful thing to feel. Almost sinister in the way it creeps between the cracks of your every thought. If you ever start to think that something deeper may be taking root, I hope you will have the sense to ask your husband to rip those feelings out altogether. The procedure will be…” Julia looked down, as if at her feet but of course her breasts blocked the view, “…difficult, yes, but you will feel so much better afterwards.”
Cherry was a bit lost amongst such a cryptic speech, but the tone was clear. She reconsidered probing further. She didn’t doubt that Julia knew what she was talking about, but looking at the matronly woman’s uncertain expression — her hostess’ smile flickering in and out of its picture-perfect complexion while her eyes seemed to pore through memories long buried — it appeared there were things better left unsaid.
That polite veneer won out, eventually, as it always seemed to with Julia. “Shall we continue? I’d really like to see you off before everyone wakes up. There will be questions, after an Intermission this long, and I’m sure you’d prefer not to answer them yourself.”
“The Intermission is still going on?”
They had reached the end of the hall. Cherry could see the transition of stone floor to teal carpeting ahead, just beyond the corner. Julia’s expression suddenly regained all of its lost warmth, as if drawing energy from the waiting crowd.
“Oh, yes. Harold had it extended—not too difficult for him to do, in his own home. I wanted time to get everything tidy again, not to mention ensure that you were alright. He rarely balks at granting small favors. Follow me, dear.”
At an insistent glance from her perfect hostess, Cherry meekly stepped out into the open space again, glad to see that Julia had been right about the Intermission. She was immediately faced with dozens of blank stares and gently swaying bodies, each waiting, seemingly judging her, even though she knew they hadn’t seen nor heard anything, sensed nothing, save perhaps the smell of sharp, floral cleaning products suddenly filling Cherry’s own nostrils. She and Julia weren’t really any less private in the sitting room than they had been in the hallway, despite the crowd, and Cherry was glad for that. She had almost forgotten her nakedness till now, it being her usual state at home and entirely unremarked by Julia or the kind doctor, but the prospect of baring herself to the whole room, even blind as they were, still made her very uncomfortable.
“I’m sure everyone is getting terribly impatient,” Julia tsked, “but I just couldn’t bear for them to see the mess.”
“I’m sorry,” Cherry mumbled again, eyeing a wet, sudsy trail that surely followed the path she must have left while dragging herself across the floor. A pair of retirees, on all fours and determinedly scrubbing, would soon erase the only evidence. Without that to remind her, Cherry’s foggy memory might have allowed her to forget that particular detail of her harrowing experience. The effects would linger regardless, Dr. Drestin had said as much, but her memory remained hazy and jumbled.
“Oh don’t worry about that. We have the carpet washed after every Social anyway. So many girls drip from all sorts of places…” She cocked her head, bouffant bouncing, and raised one eyebrow for a slightly more confidential smile than usual. “I’ve heard that plugs might be coming back into fashion next season. Won’t that be nice?”
Cherry just smiled back politely. Stepping away, she followed the trail of lube, suds and tears, beginning beside another wet spot where the other girl had been, and carefully tiptoed toward its end, at Diane’s feet—the lack of pleasers exaggerating a natural disadvantage in height. Cherry could have rested her cheek on Diane’s breasts, pushed up as they were by her corset. She remembered how they had felt against her own, and so wished to lay her face on that soft cushion and be comforted by the sweet fragrance of Diane’s perfume. But a touch would confuse and disturb the other woman’s peaceful isolation.
The black-haired beauty still stood in the thunderous fog of Intermission, batting her pretty eyelashes, idly puckering her full lips. Cherry spent a long moment just staring at Diane’s delicate features, perhaps natural or perhaps not, but either way a masterpiece that played across her pale, olive skin. Julia had been right after all. There was nothing silly, or harmless, about the way Diane made Cherry feel.
She realized now that Diane’s rejection of her earlier had been an accident — a natural response to being touched during an Intermission — but it still hurt to remember. A lot of things hurt to remember.
She looked back at the other wet spot, sudsy from the maids scrubbing, and then to the powder room door as it swung open, revealing a maid carrying her shoes in one hand, her dress cradled in the crease of its elbow.
The other hand held a scuffed, red pleaser.
Cherry slowly recalled Clarissa shoving the heel into the door crack. A little privacy, for a difficult conversation. She had a strange feeling in her tummy that if not for that shoe, she wouldn’t have stumbled upon the memory in years, it was so deeply hidden and broken into bits, tangled in the terror of what else had happened just afterward. But she had it now.
Naked and feeling as if she were on a precipice of her own jumbled memories, Cherry walked back to her hostess. Julia was idly admiring her maids’ handiwork without even a twitch where her arms once were, the scrubbing motions entirely foreign. Cherry caught her attention, “Julia, will Clarissa be ok?”
Julia stiffened, her smile slipping again.
“I hope so…” She shook herself. “O-of course she will. Of course! She has been retired. An honor I long feared she might not earn, after her behavior these last few years.” Her lips pursed, eyes again lost in reminiscence. “Our relationship soured around the time of graduation from finishing school, but we were once the best of friends.” Her gaze swept across the crowd, almost forlorn compared to the energy it usually gave her. “She was the last who knew me from before… before my wedding. I wish her well in this new phase of her life. I really do.”
“But they were mean to her. The men.” Cherry noted, just as the maid returned the dress one of those men had torn off of her. Cherry shimmied her way back into the skin-tight slip of fabric with the help of the maid’s mechanical tugs. She wondered if it might be the same one who had taken her into the powder room after the men had released her. It seemed likely, but she really had no way of knowing.
“Yes, they were.” Julia frowned. “I…regret seeing that. We would both do well to forget it, I think. I can’t imagine it’s the norm. It can’t be. You’ve seen how it usually goes—we all have. Every wedding is an open and a close. Besides, Clarissa was up to no good, and she’s the one who frustrated them in the first place by not being where they expected.”
Cherry nodded in silent agreement with the wiser woman, as she stepped into her too-tight pleasers, finally presentable again. She was a little sad to trade the feeling of soft carpeting on her feet for the cramped platforms, but was still finding it impossible to put her feet flat to the floor anyway. The extra support from the shoes, limited as it was by the narrow spike of their heels, was its own relief.
“Thank you,” she whispered, quiet so as not to interrupt Julia, but genuine. She hoped her gratitude carried enough weight—if it was indeed the same maid. What a silly thing to worry about. Courtesy to retirees was a matter of habit, not a necessary gesture, but it felt important to her this time.
“Neither of us would have been exposed, either,” Julia continued with conviction, “if Clarissa hadn’t dragged you into the powder room for her kissing games. Though knowing what I do about you now, perhaps she didn’t need to bully you into it the way she has with others in the past. That’s exactly the sort of lustful behavior I hope you can avoid in the future, dear. You see how it has unintended consequences? None of this would have happened if you’d both been able to contain yourselves.”
“K-kissing games?” Cherry blurted, hung up on the phrase. She was suddenly unsteady on her feet again, not good considering the maid was now reapplying her makeup from a handheld compact. Thankfully it deftly adjusted for her every small, shaky motion. “We were just talking…”
“I think we’re beyond euphemisms, Cherry. I know all too well what she liked to call it.”
“But it’s true!” Cherry objected. She was sure there wasn’t anything like that hidden in the cracks of her memories. “She told me that Francis…That Francis is going to replace me already. That he always does.”
“How shameful of her!” Julia stamped her pleaser, a surprising display of emotion, though dampened by the carpet. “To manipulate you and take advantage while you were vulnerable—Ohhhhh, yes I should know to expect such tactics from her. She has been preying on insecure young women since we were in school. My father and hers nearly came to blows when… Well, he was much too lenient with her, and Roger was, too. It still could have been beaten out of her, even after the wedding. It’s never too late, Cherry. There’s hope for you, too.”
“Clarissa is…she’s like me?” Cherry gasped, accidentally pulling her lips away from the maid’s gloss coated brush.
“Well, what did you think you were doing in there, dear?” Julia took a step closer and lowered her voice, as if trying to be even more private amongst only blind and deaf company. “I’m sorry if you thought you had a unique connection—that’s just part of her manipulation, I’m afraid. As I said, I really do wish the best for her, but I’m also glad she is finally incapable of corrupting any more young wives with her honeyed tongue—and I don’t just mean her words. She made quite a habit of those little trips to the powder room, always with another wife in tow. Often reluctantly so, I might add.”
“And they…they would kiss in there?” Cherry gasped again, holding her own freshly glossed lips open in shock. Her eyes, already wide for the reapplication of mascara, went even wider.
Julia nodded severely. “Thankfully no man ever complained. She was very careful to pick girls with neglectful husbands. No doubt because they are easier to coerce, already starving for affection. But it also meant the girl’s owner was less likely to find out, or to care.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“And cause a commotion? Taint the reputation of the Social? No, no, no. I have very carefully ignored the problem for years, and now it has finally resolved itself — as most problems eventually do. Ignorance and patience are among a woman’s greatest virtues, dear, and I practice both diligently.”
“So… it isn’t true, then?” Cherry grasped at a glimmer of hope. “Francis isn’t going to replace me so soon? She was just trying to get me to…to play kissing games?”
Julia’s fire dwindled. “I…I wouldn’t go so far as to say that she lied, Cherry. Not to you, anyway. Not this time. I’m so sorry, honey. Even if your husband did allow you to return to the Social next month, which I honestly doubt given how today has gone, if you follow the usual pattern then we wouldn’t see you more than a couple of times after that.”
“Oh… “
“Just another thing you should make an effort to forget, dear. No wife is ever secure in her position. That’s what drives us to be our very best!”
“I feel like I haven’t even had a chance to show Francis my best…”
“Cherry,” Julia scolded tenderly, “it is not your place to say what degree of use your husband puts you to. Find your happiness in the time you have, that’s the best advice I can give.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Cherry countered, despondent. “Your husband is going to keep you for the rest of his life. He told me so!”
“What?!” Julia suddenly croaked, leaning forward so intently she was straining the ankle straps of her pleasers. “He really said that?”
“Y-yeah, while you were blocked…”
Julia burst into the biggest, most undignified grin Cherry had ever seen. All of her polite demurity gone—this was pure, relieved joy. A weight, privately carried, had suddenly lifted. She bit her lip, batted her lashes, and settled back onto her heels as if in a daze.
“Julia…?” Cherry asked after a moment.
“Oh, that is wonderful news.” Julia was murmuring to herself. “Wonderful… I thought surely it would be soon…Just wonderful… ” She seemed to have forgotten Cherry, the Social…everything.
Cherry huffed, irritated at being ignored. She could feel that tantrum rising again. It was just not fair. Not only did Julia get a perfect husband, who loved her and treated her with the utmost kindness, but she also got to live a long, happy life with him. Cherry got a husband who lost interest in a matter of months, who even before that had never shown her the kind of affection Dr. Drestin had for his wife, the kind her father had had for his wives, the kind men were supposed to have!
And now she learned that while Clarissa got to play kissing games for years before being retired, by the time Cherry had only barely begun to recognize her feelings in that direction she had already lost the opportunity forever. She was certain that she hadn’t even done anything with Clarissa herself, despite Julia’s accusations. It was not fair.
Suddenly she remembered what Clarissa had said about bringing a friend to the powder room next time. Cherry had unknowingly suggested Diane…Would she have accepted? Her cheek suddenly felt warm again, the remembered imprint of Diane’s lips. She would have. She would have come into the powder room and they would have kissed, and— and… It was useless now. Julia was right. After the disaster with those men, there was no way Francis would let her return. He would probably retire her on the spot when she got home — if he didn’t simply cut her loose. Even if he did let her come back, she would never have the courage to ask Diane by herself, without Clarissa. She wouldn’t even know what to do, what to say. There surely was no script for something like that.
It was too late. The chance had been there, and she hadn’t even realized it. And now it was gone. It was NOT fair!
She looked at Julia, still smiling her own private smile and lost in thought. At the other women, blind and deaf, at the maids, silent and anonymous. She was alone. She would always be alone.
Her pleasers seemed to move of their own accord, squishing the wet carpet beneath as they carried her along the still-damp trail, no concern for maintaining a ladylike gait, towards the only other person in the world.
Diane stumbled backwards as Cherry fell into her, but this time Cherry was expecting the surprised reaction and followed. Her momentum carried her forward, pressing their breasts together as she closed the gap between them.
She caught Diane’s lips with hers, and melted into that incredible heat.
It was nothing like before, with Julia. Even in her shock Diane was infinitely softer, more welcoming. Cherry realized suddenly that she was being kissed back. There was no way for Diane to know what was happening, lost in the Intermission for so long, her eyes still staring uselessly, straining to see anything more than the form of someone blocking the light. But she understood, somehow, she knew.
Her lips parted slightly and Cherry found the gap with her tongue, but Diane suddenly broke away. Cherry had expected this. In fact she had expected Diane to break away sooner, immediately, not after a long, wonderful moment of bliss. She realized that she was ready to follow those lips wherever they led. And then she heard it.
“Cherry…?”
It was less than a whisper, an inflection of breath, but it was there. Knowing that Diane would never hear any response, Cherry gave the only answer she could. She kissed her again.
Find accompanying notes and illustrations on Slothargy’s DeviantArt and Pixiv