K&T, LLC Ch. 01

CC: I learned that appearances matter, a lot. Men react to to what they see, even if the changes are small.

S: More.

CC: Age matters in what men look for. When I looked 15, all the boys followed and all the girls talked. Just now, I am not sure they even noticed. Not the girls, at least.

S: Why is that?

That stopped me. This time, Mistress was patient. Finally, I wrote:

CC: The girls considered me threatening, earlier. Now they do not. Women might feel threatened, but they are better at hiding it.

S: Very good. However, you missed the most important lesson. Who did they all want?

CC: They wanted me.

Mistress sat and looked at me, as if to say "Follow that." Then it hit me. All of them, the boys and the men, wanted me. They all wanted me. They all wanted me. Oh my God, they all wanted me. Mistress watched me closely. When I reached the end, she nodded and leaned close.

"Christine, you are a very attractive young woman. It does not matter what your age is or what you have done. Men find you desirable. If we went other places, and dressed the part, you would find that women find you desirable as well. I am only slightly bi-sexual, and I find you desirable.

"The decision what to do about it is yours. Not only do I not want to make that decision for you, I am uncertain that I could. You have many options available to you. Sleeping on my rug is only one of them. Also, there is something you need to know. My rug may not be available to you much longer. Sean Richards and I are going to marry next Saturday. After that, I will be sleeping with him, and trying very hard to get pregnant. Do you understand?"

Tears were pouring down my face, but understanding was one thing I had. I nodded. Then, Mistress made me feel much better.

"Don't worry. I said I would not turn you out without a suitable place. Arrangements will be made, though I have no idea what they will be, yet. Also, I need your help with the gym clients and at the studio. That whole part of my life is going to change, and I will need hands I can trust to help. I want you to stay and learn everything. If anything, I will be giving you responsibility faster than before, because I trust you. There are few people in this world that I can say that about."

I was crying even harder when she said that. Who was I, that Mistress would trust me? Then Mistress gave me the shock of my life.

"I want you to be my Maid of Honor. Will you do it?"

Sean:

One of the things about having competent people is that you have to let them work. I made my calls and answered my email. I scheduled updates and reports. I ordered a hundred things, on the chance that they would be useful. Eventually, I had to stand back and wait for things to happen. Once I reached that point, I decided it was time to bring Sheila up to date.

I tried her phone, but was rolled to voicemail. I used that to say I was sending an email. Just outlining my preparations took half an hour. Halfway through, I made certain Gerald had added her to the briefing list. Then I sent a note to Helen to do the same. Once I had outlined the nuts and bolts, I started on a second, more personal, note. This one was to both Jo and Sheila. I outlined my family situation, such as it was, but the real purpose was to put Jo and Sheila in contact. Sheila may have only a high school education, to Jo's Ivy League PhD, but they both had an ability to cut through the shit and get things done. I figured they might be compatible.

Then, I decided I had enough of the house. I took a notebook and went down to the lake, where all this would take place. Fortunately, the gazebo had been much used through the years. All three of us had our graduation photos shot there, and Mother had used it often, when she was still here to entertain. I made a note to have it checked for structural soundness, but it seemed that a coat of paint might cover us.

Just down the slope was the boat house. If the gazebo was popular, the boat house was shunned. At most, Mother would have had it freshened up for an event. Still, her father was a naval commander, so the house and contents had been well maintained at some point. Having it available for reception entertainment would be a plus.

The boathouse could use paint, but the general repair seemed adequate. Inside we had the houseboat up on blocks. It would either be used or moved out of sight. Grandfather's yacht was still in residence, but it was neither usable, nor easily moveable. However, it was a true classic. Starting a renovation was a possibility. We had a couple of old paddle boats, but only two. I made a note to check out rentals. Ditto some canoes and all the safety gear.

I left the boat house with the realization that none of the family had opened the door in years, maybe decades. If Sheila and I had children, that would change. The same was true of much of the grounds. Somewhere there was a wooded corner with a small cabin. I remember exploring it as a child. Mother was furious. Contrasting that to Sheila's likely reaction brought a smile to my face. Sheila would be an outstanding mother.

With that thought on my mind, I went up the hill to the old house. Much of the family residence has been added recently. My entire wing dated from the 1960s to the early 1980s. However, the original house was a colonial mansion, complete with ballroom. It would be absolutely imperative to have the space available for the reception, yet no one had used it since the era of Elvis and the Beatles.

I mentioned competent people. When I reached the house, I found the ballroom doors open and two of my heads of staff looking inside. Michael Gilbert was head of Grounds. I think he was considering the area outside the ballroom. That appeared to be a good notion, at least on its face. The area was fairly level, and we could easily place a dozen tables. Off to one side was a small patio, with a stone railing. If I remembered correctly, it was off the original main parlor. The patio was too small for dancing, but it would do nicely for a musical ensemble.

The other man was Mitchell Gilbert, Micheal's brother. He was in charge of the house staff, an area much reduced from my childhood. His people would be cleaning the ballroom, as well as preparing all the guest rooms. I did not envy him his coming week. Mitchell seemed to think otherwise. This would be his first chance to shine in many years.

The three of us went into the ballroom and started discussing possibilities.

Sheila:

I did not know what to expect when I exposed Christine to the male population. She was nineteen years old and had never had a boyfriend. However, the raw materials were there, so I just needed to draw them out. I started with the high school boys, because Christine she would remember them clearly. None of them had ever given her the time of day, but that could be changed easily enough.

In general, getting teenage boys to drool is child's play. I put a on short dress, with no bra, and did the hair in a young girl style. Nothing to it. For the next stage, I went for early 20s casual chic. That worked remarkably well. In that out, plus undergarments, Christine could easily have obtained work as a receptionist in a bank or professional office. The real revelation was when I tried for sophisticated hottie. She looked the part even more than I did. The two of us could have gone clubbing in Town and never paid for a drink.

A big part of the transformation was posture. CC had slumped. Christine stood tall and arrow straight. I could see Francine's hand in that detail. Since balance is the largest part of walking in heels, Christine mastered tall sandals in barely an hour. I almost did not test her with a submissive reference. Almost, but not quite. Christine could play the part of a confident woman, but she was submissive at heart. Attention thrilled her, but embarrassment thrilled her more.

We were setting at a food court, sipping drinks. I asked Christine what she had learned. Naturally, she focused on the reactions to what she was wearing. What she completely missed was that many women could not bring those outfits off. So, I pointed out the woman in all the outfits and watched the light dawn in her eyes. That's my girl.

Then it was time to drop the bomb. The irony of asking Christine Collins to be my Maid of Honor was almost palpable. Other than Francine, who had been absent for a decade, the only women I knew were clients or the wives of clients. As it was, I considered asking Martha Douglas, but she is old enough to be my mother. I could almost see her regretful head shake. I could give Martha a lot of responsibility, and I intended to, but I needed a witness of my own generation.

Needless to say, Christine was stunned. She was already wide eyed before I asked her. I can only imagine how she felt wen I made the request. There was no question what her answer would be. In point of reality, I could simply have ordered it. For Christine, that would have made it much easier. However, I wanted her to learn some control. If she eventually lived with someone like Jason, she would need the practice.

Once that was out of the way, I checked my voicemail. There were a surprising number of simple congratulations. Buried in the middle was a message from Sean, telling me that he would email me some details. This proved to be two emails. The first was dry details. The second was quite interesting, since Sean had also sent it to his sister.

Sean was hinting that she could be one of my ladies. Reading between the lines, Sean also thought Siobhan, make that Jo, and I could be friends. I was willing to try, on both counts. As I expected, Jo had sent an email, introducing her self. I replied, asking if she was willing to wear a corset for the ceremony. Almost immediately, she fired back a note, asking for my IM address.

It was the start of a beautiful friendship. We have pictures.

CC:

When Mistress asked me to be her Maid of Honor, she must have known I could not refuse. I would have found it less stressful if she had simply told me to do it. I wondered why Mistress had not done it that way. I had time to wonder, because Mistress was listening to her phone messages. There must have been a lot of them. As I waited, I contemplated how Mistress had been handling me.

For example, my private name is Tess. Mistress picked that as a shortening of Truly Scrumptious. She remembered my private name, because she made me TrulyCC for my email and IM accounts. Yet, she was not calling me Tess, or even CC. Today, at least, she was calling me Christine.

Second point. Mistress had brought me to the mall. I have read many stories about Dominants taking submissives to the mall. Usually there is nakedness involved, and often a leash. Mistress knew this as well. She had gotten me to cum just by mentioning a leash. Yet, when that happened, she quickly moved me to a seat, where the table would hide the wet spot.

It was almost as if Mistress wanted me to be a regular person, that day at least. But, she kept reminding me what I was. Then, Mistress said she trusted me. Then, she asked me to be Maid of Honor. It was very confusing, but it gave me an idea. I picked up the bag with my other clothes and held it up for Mistress to see. She only nodded her head, toward the restrooms, and kept talking.

In a way, it was the scariest thing I did that day, and I had already told Mistress about my bump. I picked up the bag and walked to the restrooms. I tried to keep the bag in front, without being too obvious about it. Whether or not it worked, I was soon in the Women's room.

I stepped into a stall and pulled off the wet pants. Nothing else seemed to be right, so I changed into the sun dress. Mistress had said nothing about a bra, but she had not allowed one during our time in the mall. I decided that mall time was over. With a little nervousness, I pulled my bra on, then the dress over it. I could have put on my flats, but decided I liked the sandals.

At least I did not to wear have the pig tails, though the tight pony tail seemed wrong as well. I liked the ribbon, so I just pulled it lower. This let a few strands loose, which softened the look quite a bit. I stepped up to the sink and checked myself in the mirror. I looked like me, but in a nice dress.

Just then, a woman came in, about 25 or so. She was wearing a pant suit, with a Kohls name tag. For a long moment she checked me out. I could feel myself starting to blush, when she continued on to a stall. I collected my bag and went to Mistress' table.

Mistress had the laptop out, but she paused to look at me. Her only comment was a pleased smile. This made me warm in a very special way. I quickly sat and pulled out my own laptop. Mistress had forwarded two emails from Mr. Richards and one from his sister, Jo. There was a lot to read, but I eventually worked through it all. Partway through I saw Ms. Kohls come out. She saw me, then she saw Mistress and scowled.

Suddenly I was glad not to be alone.

Chapter 2 -- Au Revoir, Auf Wiedersehen, Til We Meet Again

Interlude: 25^th Anniversary

Cindy:

There was a lot going on. The big project with Justin and Jason was still wrapping up. Mom had just met Nanny CC, and they were still figuring things out. Frankly, I have never figured that relationship out, but it works for them. When I was five, Nanny CC had JJ, which gave me someone to spend time with. JJ is second year at CCNY. Take a bow.

Whatever Mom and CC had to do, it must not have taken long. Mom calls it the decision. The world may never know what CC calls it.

Sheila:

Christine and I went to the warehouse. The camera crew was dismantling the workspace, which made me rather sad, but not everything was not downbeat. Jason and I took time picking out his personal shot. It was a closeup of me, with one foot on a stool, rolling my stocking. Other than me being dressed in just a bra and panties, there was nothing risqué about it. I was happy to print it and sign it with lipstick. Peter commended Jason on his selection and asked for his own. I complied, but his I signed my real name, with a pen.

In the course of the afternoon, I asked Justin to be our wedding photographer. He agreed, joking that I could retain artistic control. Then he became very serious. He told me to expect inquiries about photo editing. I had, he said, the deftest touch he had ever seen. Peter emphatically echoed his sentiment. It was something to consider, along with everything else.

Sean arrived and we all headed to dinner at Albert's. Unlike Friday eventing, where Sean was buying dinner as a sort of wrap party, this dinner was for our engagement. Everyone had heard, naturally, but Sean made a formal announcement, followed by several toasts. Even Christine, bless her, got up and toasted "Mister and Mistress", to which Jason quipped, "The suspense is killing me." Things were pretty loose and that line brought down the house.

Of the toasts, my personal favorite was Peter. "Those that do not know you will find the pairing odd. They will wonder why you came together and whether it will last. Those of us, who have seen you work together, have no such concerns. Here is to a lifetime collaboration."

Dessert was an Albert's specialty, Alaskan Volcano. This is a baked Alaska, filled with strawberry ice cream. At the table, hot fudge is ladled over the top, then a cluster of brandy soaked sugar cubes is lighted at the top. It makes an impressive, and messy, display. Given the good humor at the table, Albert's is lucky a food fight did not break out. In all, it was a memorable party.

When it was over, there were decisions to be made. Sean had as much as said that his house was my house. This presented me with the question of my roommate. This was really two questions: one for Christine and another one for Tess.

Then, there was the question of Jason. During the week, Justin and Peter would be going to Philadelphia, to catch up on business. Jason would be at loose ends. I had no objection to him spending time with Christine, but they did not have a car, and Christine had no license. I made the obvious decision, though not an easy one for me. I loaned Jason my car for the week. Sean, or his people, would get me where I needed to be.

I told Jason to take good care of my car, sleep in his own bed, keep Christine not-pregnant and to leave the bump alone. I told Christine that she was allowed to use her gag as she liked, as well as rope, blindfolds, clothespins and anything Jason was born with, but to stay away from anything heavy. She had the key to my apartment, which was her home til further notice. I also told them I would do a double session for them on Wednesday, time permitting, and that he could pick up Christine in the morning.

Then, I had time to look for Sean.

Sean:

They say the devil is in the details. As soon as I decided to have the wedding on the grounds, a million details sprang to life. No one had entertained since Mother had moved to California. The residential wing currently consisted of my room and a guest room, typically used by Jo. One whole floor of the new house was now occupied by Gerald and his people. Everything else was closed up: the old parlors, the guest and servant quarters, the formal dining room, the ballroom and the associated kitchen. Effectively, the original house had been mothballed. We would have an army of people in to uncover, sweep, dust, wax and polish, to generally make things presentable, but there were limits. There was no way the big kitchen would be usable for event cooking.

Outside, there was another set of issues. Where to put seating and how much. How to deal with the slope down to the lake. Putting everyone uphill from the gazebo was a nice concept, until you realized that that would cover fifty chairs, at most. Invitations would be limited, but I had a bad feeling about how many would be accepted. Parking space was going to be a nightmare. Overnight guests would be another.

I spent three hours, going around with the brothers Gilbert, making lists of things that had to be done before we could even start the planning. I gave them the name and number of Goeffry Winston, head of Richards Events, and told them to get started. Then I went upstairs and let Gerald tell me, so very politely, that I was an idiot and the whole concept was unthinkable. The dinner party was a welcome relief.

I had planned a wrap party at Albert's for months, clear back when Cox and Hart were the photographers. By the time the day arrived, a wrap party seemed unnecessary, even out of place. Instead, I made it an engagement party. In spite of our sometimes rocky working relationship, Justin, Peter and Jason had become my friends. They were also the only friends Sheila and I had in common. An announcement party was very fitting, and I found myself looking forward to it.

I was not disappointed. The evening was a huge success. Our massive early frustration had mellowed to a sense of deep satisfaction. We all owed a debt of gratitude to Sheila, though she still seemed to be oblivious. Having a night to celibate her engagement was a perfect way to begin repaying. The series of toasts was something to treasure and, of course, we have it on video.

Not everything was perfect. As satisfying as things had turned out, the night marked a clear ending. Justin and Peter would be heading back to their shop in Philadelphia, which Justin had not seen in months. Monday would be business as usual, for a few days at least. Sheila had already pinned them to doing the imagery of the wedding. I reserved their rooms for an extra week, so they would not have to decamp completely.