Love's Wicked Craft Ch. 03

The Art Of Becoming

1

The Fun House loomed before Hannah and Chase, its exterior painted in a peaches and cream flesh tone, its trim done in burgundy, its edgings and peaks gleaming like polished purple leather under the tempting gold of the late afternoon sun. Far enough away from Chase's home and day to day vanilla haunts, in a sleepy seaside town, the Fun House was a super-sized colonial revival, regal and stately, that dominated the end of an otherwise ordinary lane of humble capes and ranches.

Hannah could still hear the comforting churn of surf in the distance as she strode beside Chase toward the house's door yard. She was led gently by her hand, outfitted in her little pink dress, little pink socks and her white Patton leather shoes. Beneath the dress, she wore a pink flower patterned camisole undershirt and panties. From her neck dangled her pacifier and nestled in the crook of her right arm was a plush teddy bear. As other pedestrian traffic ogled and scoffed, Hannah bounced her pig tails as she walked; contentedly swinging her left arm, her fingers proudly interlaced with Chase's.

She regarded Chase, stunning in her knee length, shark repellent chainmail, and cocktail dress. Hannah had yet to be permitted to touch the highly reflective mesh material to determine for herself as to whether it was actual steel. She then admired Chase's bared shoulders and the white gold choker around her neck, its blue sapphire gleaming at the center of her throat. Her luxurious raven hair was bound in artful disorder at the back of her head, and her ears were bejeweled with more white gold and blue sapphire. The click clack of Chase's three inch polished platinum pumps echoed through the street.

Sensing Hannah's stare, Chase stopped. The lane suddenly empty and quiet, she fixed an ice blue gaze on her lover, its intensity melting with each passing second. Without a word, Chase roved her gaze from Hannah's pig tails to her shining white leather shoes, and then kissed her full on the mouth.

Together, they mounted the wide black flag stone steps and crossed the columned portico to the door. Chase rang the bell, and Hannah could hear the resulting chimes, their tone reminding her of carousel music. She wasn't sure what to expect when the big black door was opened, so was not at all prepared when it eventually creaked wide enough to reveal a young woman, possibly in her early twenties, her face made up and her body dressed in the guise of a clown. The young woman gasped exaggeratedly, eyes wide and mouth agape, as she took in the two callers.

"Oh my my my Mistress Chase," she warbled excitedly as she came between the door and the stoop, "Where did you find such an adorable little creature? May I ask her name?"

"You may." Chase intoned as she turned to see that Hannah had stuffed a thumb in her mouth; her teddy bear choked between her upper arm and trunk.

"What's your name little girl?" asked the pleasantly grease painted, round red nosed and pink haired princess.

The clown was dressed in green and white checked gingham, a frilled collar around her neck, an abundance of ruffles under her skirt. She wore her pink dyed hair up at the top of her head, bound with a variety of brightly colored ribbons that were as wide as party streamers. At the end of her smooth, lean, legs, her feet were dressed in short orange socks and a pair of big red clown shoes.

Hannah regarded her shyly, and then flit her coy gaze between the clown and her mistress. Chase bowed her head in consent, which prompted Hannah to withdraw her thumb and announce:

"My name is Baby Daw."

Immediately, she poked the thumb back into her mouth, and looked for Chase's approval.

"Well it's very nice to meet you Baby Doll." Said the clown as she bowed slightly at the waist, "For now, you can call me Madam Giggles. Please; won't you come in?"

Chase led Hannah into the foyer as the clown princess closed the door behind them. Either genuinely uncertain or simply playing the role of reluctant child, Hannah glanced nervously behind her as the clown took up their rear; skipping her way along the hall. The sounds of dining room fine ware clatter and polite chatter were increasingly audible as they advanced past a great open room on their right and closed doors on their left.

Finally, on their right, Chase brought Hannah into a vast dining room. She first took in the enormous light wood and windowed china cabinet along the far left wall, then the huge pots of small trees and wide ferns along the back wall until she observed that in the centered of the marble tiled floor, was a long table covered with a bounty of food. Around the table were arranged twelve eighteenth century styled chairs, nine of which were occupied by an Assortment of the most peculiarly queer and glamorously mysterious freaks Hannah had ever seen.

One of the first to take notice of their arrival was a large man seated at the far end of the table; his head coweled, his eyes and nose masked in leather, his full lips and cleanly shaven cheeks exposed. As he began to clang a butter knife against the base of his wine glass, Hannah scolded herself for having thought the word freaks. These were fellow scene enthusiasts, lovers and the objects of their affections. They were Chase's confidants, intimate friends and accepting family. Presently, Madam Giggles found her seat as the room quieted down. The masked man turned his head toward the comely black woman seated beside him, and she regarded him with an assuring bow of her own head.

"Mistress Chase," she said, her voice silky yet robust, "Dungeon Master Guryon wishes to welcome you back to his home. So finally, we can put a face to the name we've been hearing about over the last few months. Would you introduce her please?"

"Everyone," said Chase, scanning their faces, "I give you Ms. Hannah, alias Baby Doll."

Hannah blushed, nodded and curtsied; a skin of goose flesh coating her shoulders.

"Ah yes, but do we get to keep her?"

The group laughed genially as Hannah turned to see who'd spoken: an attractive blonde haired man seated to Madam Giggle's immediate right, dressed in a sand colored Panama open weave jacket, a tie that matched his amber eyes and a white silk shirt.

"Welcome Baby Doll." Smiled the woman seated beside the masked man; her skin the truest blue black Hannah had ever seen, her tiger eyes seeming able to strike fear in the heart of anyone who dare to resist her, "Please; sit."

As Hannah and Chase took their seats, the woman continued the introductions. There was Samuel and Cissa Rosenblatt, the amputees; Angelica Divine, the festive transgendered; Jackie Kern, a girl who likes to stick to her guns; the sly eyed blonde man, Marty Cheevers, accountant by day, The Jack Of All Shades by night; Sally O'Malley, alias Madam Giggles; Roger and Patty Shipman, practiced switchers; their hostess herself: Cecilia Woods, aka Mistress Keisha, queen of the cat o nine; and their masked host, all muscle bound and leather strapped, Dungeon Master Guryon.

The conversation meandered politely enough until it ultimately became as culturally varied and rich as the food they ate. Hannah relished each morsel and devoted keen attention to each speaker in turn. An elementary school teacher by day, Madam Giggles told great stories about her little third graders. It was beautifully surreal, experiencing the exchange of educational philosophy and best instructional practices between Chase and a clown in full regalia.

Cecilia was a horticulturist who could tell you how many ways plants revealed their own intelligence. The Rosenblatt's and the Shipman's, each in their mid-forties, shared from their shared history, having known each other outside of their scene lives. Jackie was a living encyclopedia of self-defense, gun models, calibers and fire arms law and happened to love the feel of gun metal against her bare skin. Cheevers knew the ins and outs of tax breaks and deductions, but lived for more physical challenges. As for Guryon, the dungeon Master, he remained silent, appearing rapt or wearing a smile as appropriate until he finished his meal; at which point he'd zipped his mask down to the base of his neck.

Hannah wasn't sure about who she trusted least; Cheevers or Guryon. She did know however, that house rules were house rules, and the expectation was that each participant in the play party that was to take place after dinner would obey them. Guryon was their host, the dungeon master, who would not participate, was obligated to see to the safety and welfare of his guests, and should be trusted. Still, his height, musculature, shining leather, gleaming studs and lack of a face, Hannah couldn't help but find unsettling.

Ultimately though, she trusted Chase and would be her dutiful slave for the evening and for hopefully more evenings to come. She'd taken pleasure in serving her mistress dinner. Chase had loved how well Hannah was mucking it up as Baby Doll, as did everyone else at the table. For Hannah, the shyness was the easiest element of her portrayal of Baby, since the group represented some degree of over stimulation that went against the grain of her Asp burgers.

In fact, the stress was making her think really hard about stealing off to the bathroom to rob Guryon of his toilet paper. But, Hannah survived the urge and spent the remainder of her time in the dining room without spewing more than one somewhat related odd fact, like: On average 70% of the time ice from fast food restaurants is dirtier than toilet water or a can of spam is opened every 4 seconds somewhere on Earth. After dinner, they all shared in the clearing of the table, and then broke up for dessert.

Hannah still couldn't shake the awkward feeling that she was an outsider, though it was clear that she was a perfect fit among her mistress's play party pals. Of course, it didn't help that her lover remained engrossed in some boring conversation she was having with Mistress Cecilia about all the great scene tools and binding materials that could be found in any local home improvement retailer. So, Hannah roamed the halls of the Fun House, her teddy bear tucked inside an arm, her fingers interlaced behind her as she, as nonchalantly as possible, peeked into each open doorway. The thing was, all doorways were open and all peeking was encouraged. But, Hannah still didn't think she'd feel right, watching perfectly strange strangers indulge in their fetishes without a television screen being between her reality and theirs.

Sauntering casually down the hall, trying to look very casual but not feeling casual enough, Hannah poked the pacifier she had strung around her neck into her mouth. There, she thought, that's better. Then, approaching the first room, she glanced inside to see the Rosenblatt's engaged in a naked game of Twister. Cissa, looking very good for a woman of sixty-two, was rubbing her wet pussy upon Samuel's lower legless right knee. Cissa, a complete person too, beyond the lack of a left forearm, was having the end of it sucked by Samuel, his zeal quite evident by his manner of sucking and by the very tall and youthful appearing erection he was sporting. Well, Hannah thought, hard rubber, golf putter, Elmer Fudder, I'll just move on now.

The next doorway was across the hall. Looking inside, Hannah saw that the room's floor and walls were covered with a layer of gym mats. Playing inside the room were Cheevers and Kern. Cheevers, covered in only black leather briefs and some truncated tank top of leather straps, and Kern, wearing an even more brief leather bikini bottom and top, prowled around one another like two wrestlers. Cheevers looked just as good in his little leather underwear as he did with his street clothes and Kern not only had a fantastic head of hair, but she was the most muscle bound woman she'd ever seen. And wrestling was exactly what they appeared to be on the verge of, though the ante looked to be set pretty high. So high in fact, Hannah wasn't sure if it was even legal. Abruptly, she spit out her pacifier and asked:

"Uh, tell me datt ain't a weal knife and dat ain't a weal gun."

It was a moot question. If Jackie was as enthusiastic about guns as she made herself out to be, then the slick black semi auto riding her right hip had to be the real deal and, as a matter of course, the four inch blade sheathed on Cheever's right was equally as genuine. Jackie, bracing her palms against the sides of her waist, gave Hannah a sidelong stare. Cheevers went into a neutral corner and, folding his arms, waited. Then, nodding in Cheever's direction, Kern said:

"It's legal to carry a four inch blade on your person."

Then Kern, without taking her eyes off Hannah, reached into the front of her leather bikini, withdrew a card and brought it close enough to Hannah's face so that she could see that it was her conceal carry permit.

"That," continued Jackie as she returned the card, "makes me legal."

Then the woman unsnapped the top of her holster and withdrew the gun. Hannah stepped back. Both Cheevers and Kern snickered as she racked the slide and locked the breech open. Extending it to Hannah, Jackie said:

"Go ahead. It's empty."

Tentatively, Hannah took it between her hands and slowly moved it around for her visual inspection, her soft fingers dancing around the matt black steel.

"The name of the game is that Marty has to try to take my gun away," said Kern, "and I have to try and get his knife. If I'm cut in the process, Marty wins the choice to fuck me or to get his dick sucked. If I win, he has to eat me out while faced with my little friend there, loaded with a single round, and resting right on my belly."

Hannah carefully handed the fire arm back. Jackie disengaged the slide lock and Baby Doll jumped at the ringing clang it made as the breech quickly closed again.

"What's to stop him from taking it from you then and shooting you wif it?" asked Baby.

Kern smiled and said:

"If he eats me right, then Marty gets his dick sucked anyway."

"Oh dat's nice." Said Hannah, "Hey, did you know dat it takes two tabwespoons of bwud to get the avwage man's penis awect?"

Kern's brow suddenly furrowed and her smile faded.

"Yeah great." she said, "Now move along little girl and, try to remember the party rules."

With that, Kern summarily popped Baby Doll's pacifier into her mouth, turned her around and gave her a gentle shove down the hall. Oops, thought Hannah, push mower, steam roller, competition bowler, naughty girl, naughty girl, naughty girl! Do not walk in between a Dominant and his or her equipment. Do not touch other people's property. Do not walk into the middle of people playing, Stupid Baby Doll. Do not talk loudly if you are watching the play. Do not ask questions or interrupt, stupid, stupid, stupid!

Do not assume you can just join in. Remember your manners.

Stopping across the hall from the room where the Shipman's were playing, Hannah hunkered down to the floor, and then wrapped her arms around her knees, clutching her teddy bear between them. Together, they watched the couple, leathered and studded as they took turns dominating Ms. Divine. Baby Doll, chewing her pacifier, watched the exchange unfold. Roger, inquiring as to whether Angelica was really a woman, cornered her roughly and ripped open what seemed to Hannah a very nice dress. At that point, Mrs. Shipman, Patty, proceeded to snap open Angelica's bra, revealing two gently round flat faced breasts. Then, while Angelica was physically restrained by Roger, Patty pointed out the obvious bulge in Ms. Divine's panties.

By what Hannah believed was the climax of the scenario, Divine had been blind folded, had her ears stuffed with soft wax and was bound, wrists and ankles, to a piece of furniture that was both like a Saint Andrew's cross and a gynecological examination table. Mesmerized, watching how much Angelica seemed to enjoy her nipples being clamped, her ass being penetrated by Dr. Patty Shipman's strap-on and getting her erect penis gobbled by Mr. Shipman, Hannah wasn't exactly sure where the squeaking noises she heard was coming from. Then, hearing a sudden, incongruent, blare of a goose call, Baby Doll turned to look down the hall and saw Madam Giggles rolling toward her on a very tiny gag tricycle.

Giggles squeezed her horn a second time and waved. Baby Doll spit out her pacifier and smiled. Coming to a gradual stop beside Baby, Giggles asked:

"Where's Momma dome wittoBaby?"

Shrugging, Baby answered:

"Dunno. Maybe she's wif da tall bwack wady stew."

Madam Giggles exaggeratedly gestured thinking up an idea and said:

"Hey! Maybe you can come play with me!"

"Oh I dunno." Baby replied, cutely sober, "Maybe Mistwiss Chasy Wasy won't wet me."

Then, after a vigorous shaking of her head and shoulders, Madam Giggles loomed her face in close to Baby and said:

"Den wet's go and ask haw, kay!?!"

"Kay."

"Wanna wide my bike?"

Baby nodded. The two rose to their feet, Giggles turned the little tricycle around and Baby handed her teddy to the clown. Then, popping her pacifier back in her mouth, Baby pedaled back down the hall, Giggles skipping beside her.

Making their way back to the dining room, they saw that two women, a voluptuous brunette and an athletic red head, wearing nothing but gleaming steel collars around their necks, were busily clearing the table. Baby and Giggles went into reverse, and then ventured further down the hall. Presently, the hall let out into a vast, extravagantly decorated living room with a grand piano alcove in the south east corner. However, that space too, held no sign of Hannah's domme. After riding a wide three sixty through the room, Baby and Giggles headed back toward the vestibule. There, Baby parked by the foot of the west side stair case and followed the clown to the upper level. At the top of the stairs was a foyer, empty, and another smaller piano alcove, empty too, other than a slightly less grand Bösendorfer,and then a set of French doors.

Baby took one of the handles and, seeing that the doors were unlocked, stepped inside. Giggles followed, walking in an exaggerated tippy toe. To their left were two enormous walk-in closets, large enough to set up cash registers and put signs over the doors, with an equally capacious master bath in between. Ahead of them stood a fire place, large enough to spit roast a pig. Then, to the right, centered against the wall, was a California king with two large night stands on either side, dressed in rubber sheets, backed with a head board complex of shelves and cubbies that featured a host of sculptures and framed photos. Above the bed, mounted in the eleven foot ceiling, was a dual pulley system.

Then there she was, Chase, standing at the foot of the bed, eyeing Hannah disapprovingly from within a small crowd of other similarly put off people: Cecilia, now dressed in the leather and chains of Mistress Keisha, Dungeon Master Guryon, face still masked and muscles rippling and a new stranger, an Asian woman, possibly Japanese, her eyes fixed on Hannah's like a predatory cat, scornful and ravenous. Baby Doll lowered her gaze and let the pacifier drop from her mouth. Jeesh, she thought, I tought dis was posta be a pway potty. Oh, dats wight, we're interwuppting.

"Baby honey," Chase intoned, "You too Madam Giggles, bow to Mistress Atsuko."

Together, arms down at their sides, the two bowed. Baby raised her gaze again to look upon Mistress Atsuko. It was hard to resist. She was exotically beautiful, her face a soft yellow peach ovoid diamond, her straight nose and thin pink lips, the dragon in her eyes and the long gleaming black braid of hair that went down to her buttocks, swinging to and fro, across cheek to cheek, like the pendulum from a clock. Of course, what was also very compelling about Mistress Atsuko was that, while she wore a long length of rope coiled around her left shoulder, the woman was undressing her dome. Baby, Hannah, glanced at Master Guryon as he manipulated the ropes that hung down from the pulleys and said: