Too Clever by a Mile Ch. 06

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Cathy turns the tables on Steve and Theresa in her own way.
7k words
4.44
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Part 6 of the 9 part series

Updated 10/14/2022
Created 04/06/2012
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carvohi
carvohi
2,546 Followers

Cathy plip plopped her tiny feet up the porch, to the door, through the foyer and living room, up the steps, and into what had been their bedroom. She sat on the side of the bed. She looked at Leah's picture as it hung on the wall, "You bitch. You're not ruining our lives." She scouted around till she found the place where Steve had left the chains; those awful chains. She picked them up and placed them on the bed. Over on the bureau was that shitty little screwdriver. She went and got it. These were hers too.

Cathy went to work. Going through all the steps she put the collar back on. Next she did the ankle chains. The chain that held the wrist manacles had been cut in half when Steve had used the master lock to fix them behind her back. God she was lucky, the oval fixtures at the ends attached to the wrist cuffs also required the same star shaped screwdriver. With difficulty she managed to get one off. She took it, threw the unneeded piece of chain on the floor, and with great difficulty managed to get the oval thing attached to the still connected piece of chain and then screwed it in around the O-ring of her other wrist. The only difference now and when she'd run out of the house earlier was the length of chain that held her wrists together was only three not six inches long.

She was, once again, chained up. She left the bedroom and reached the stairs. Instead of childishly plopping down the steps one at a time like she'd done before she very carefully walked down each step; it was tricky and she almost fell once. She wondered what Steve would do if she did fall down his steps and really got hurt. She wondered if he actually honestly even cared. As she started down she saw Steve sitting on the sofa in the living room.

Steve saw her at the top of the stairs. He was in utter disbelief. What was she doing? Was she completely crazy? He'd originally gotten the chains to humiliate her, break up her poise, and wreck havoc on her self-confidence. Wearing them now only humiliated him.

Afraid she might fall he moved quickly to the steps and watched her come down. He stood by feeling almost numb, "Cathy why are you doing this? It was only kind of a joke. I didn't mean it to be so mean, honest! Come on I'm sorry."

She just ignored him so he tried again, "Oh Cathy please don't do this. I'm so sorry. Please let me make it up to you. I promise I'll do whatever you want."

When she got to the last step Steve reached out and tried to put his hands on her shoulders. She evaded his grasp and stepped away. Moving maybe three feet away she looked him in the eye, "If you want her, your slave will be in the gazebo." She spun around, nearly losing her balance, and walked toward the kitchen and the back door, ass wiggling, chains dragging across the living room rug.

He watched her with relief tinged with remorse. At least she wasn't leaving him.

For the next three days, when he wasn't at the hospice, Steve stayed in the house, usually at the bathroom window watching her in the gazebo. As far as he could tell she never came out except to go to the bathroom or to empty the trashcan. He knew she had to do something soon; there wasn't enough food to last much longer. She was driving him crazy. He was afraid to go out and talk to her, afraid of what she might say and afraid he'd screw things up even worse, but he knew this couldn't go on.

Finally Steve called his friend Theresa. He told her some of what happened, how he'd been a fool, how they'd had a fight, and how she'd offered all her money to the hospice. He explained to Theresa how he'd told her she had no money, and how she'd taken up in the gazebo. He didn't tell her about the bondage or the spanking, or that she had chained herself up with nothing on, that all sounded just too sick.Steve was just sick with shame.

Theresa offered to take her out to lunch; if Steve was too scared maybe she could talk to her. Steve fell over himself with gratitude, but suggested she offer through a note rather than direct contact. The last thing he wanted was Theresa to see her attired the way she was. He felt degraded enough just knowing she was out there all chained up.

On the fifth day Steve found Cathy had left a note on the kitchen counter. It was a grocery list. He immediately went out and bought everything she wanted. He also bought and signed an 'I Love You' card. He added a short note begging her to come in. He promised he'd do anything she wanted if she just stopped being so darned stubborn. Cathy didn't respond.

The next day Theresa dropped off a sealed envelope. She told Steve it was the note he'd asked for. He promptly took it to the gazebo. Cathy watched as he slid it under the door. He waited while she opened and read it. She wrote something inside and slid it back out. He read it and nodded.

Cathy had agreed to a meeting with Theresa, but only if Theresa picked her up and took her to lunch. She set a firm time and date, and scribbled a p.s. saying that Steve should be out of the house when Theresa came, and that he shouldn't try to follow.

He wrote back that he'd agree to everything. He also added a lot of X's and O's so she knew how he felt about her. It wasn't just that he loved her, he really did, but he'd been behaving so stupidly, what if it got out that's he'd been doing the things he'd done. He wasn't Albert DeSalvo; he was Steve Murphy. If what he'd been doing ever leaked out it could ruin what he was doing at the hospice. No one would give money to a pervert.

Cathy thought it was time to turn the tables on Theresa. By then she'd figured out who'd been behind the maid thing and the silly outfit. She wondered how Theresa might feel if she had to face her again displayed in the same way.

The day Theresa came by to pick her up she was dressed in the same little black maid's uniform she'd worn the night Theresa had humiliated her. The only thing she left off was the apron.

Theresa saw the uniform and knew right away what Cathy's intentions were. Theresa had certainly underestimated the woman. She felt like a fool. She also realized she could be wrong about her motives, and that she needed to find a way to fix things. She wasn't completely sure of Cathy's intentions, but there was no time like the present to begin to find out. She smiled as Cathy got in the car, "Hi I thought we'd go to the restaurant down on Fourth and Sullivan Streets. It's a nice place, mostly home made food. You'll like it."

Cathy answered icily, "I've been there. Steve took me."

Theresa replied, "Someplace else then?"

Cathy nodded, "Someplace with Italian."

"There's an Olive Garden?"

"Olive Garden's good."

The women drove to the Olive Garden in silence; one decked out to the nines, the other dressed like a servant. They went in and got seated pretty quickly. Both got the red wine and the afternoon lasagna entree. The food was reliably good. They both got coffee afterward.

While they were drinking their coffee Theresa opened the conversation, "I'm sorry for the way I've been behaving."

Cathy was terse, "You're forgiven."

"I want to talk about Steve."

"I'm here."

"Steve loves you very much."

"I love him too, but he has peculiar ways of showing his affection. I'd say he's just about out of time."

"I know a little about what's been going on with you two, but I'm not here about that."

Cathy looked at her. She wondered how much Steve had told her, "Then what are you here for?"

"Tell me what do you know about Steve and Leah?"

"They were childhood sweethearts. He loved her. He married her. They lived happily ever after until she got cancer and died."

"You don't know anything else."

"Is there anything else?"

"Leah was pregnant when she died. The baby wasn't Steve's and he suspected she was pregnant and he had his doubts as to whether he was the daddy or not." Theresa could tell she had Cathy's attention.

Cathy wasn't about to give Theresa anything to work with. She asked, "What does he know now?"

"He still has his suspicions.I mean he know now she was pregnant, but about the other..."

Cathy was curious. She interrupted, "Does he have any idea who the real father was?"

"I don't think so."

"Do you know?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you tell him?"

Theresa shrugged, "I love Steve, not like you do, but I do love him. Besides what good would it do?"

Cathy had to claw at the woman just a little, "Oh I don't know. He might want to know who had been screwing his childhood sweetheart; you know who had slipped her the meat package and knocked her up."

Theresa looked at the other woman thoughtfully. She'd only then come to fully realize just how badly they'd treated the person who was sitting across the table. Theresa regretted it, "Steve is my best friend. I've known him a long time." She saw the suspicion on Cathy's face. "No nothing like that, never. Ever wonder why I'm not married. I prefer women. I mean I'd do you, but frankly I don't think you're into women."

Cathy's whole sense of perspective had just gone out of kilter, "You're a..."

"Yes, and I have someone new right now. Earlier there was another woman who was very special to me. Our state won't acknowledge same sex marriage. Until they do I'm a Miss."

Cathy had to ask, "Which one are you?"

Theresa, for the first time smiled, "I'm the dike."

"Then you'd be Mr. Somebody."

"I'd be Ms. Somebody."

"Oh, do I know her? Your current significant other I mean."

"No. Would you like to meet her?"

Cathy looked at Theresa with new appreciation, "Yes I think I would."

Theresa was pleased, "I'd like that, but let's get back to Steve."

Cathy answered, "All right."

Theresa asked, "You want to ruin him?"

Cathy wasn't sure what to say. She really hated him right then, but she still loved him too.She wondered, 'did she really want to hurt anybody?' She reflected on the kids at the hospice. She answered, "No."

Theresa watched the other woman. She could see the turmoil in her demeanor, "Look I'm going to give you something." She took out a pen, and on the back of a piece of napkin she wrote down a name, "This is the man."

Cathy took the napkin. She looked at it in disbelief, "Him?"

"Him."

Cathy didn't know what to say. She thought she should hate the woman across from her, she had every reason to, but she just couldn't. She opened up, "Look has Steve told you what's been going on between us?"

"Only that you two had a fight."

Cathy sat there, and for the next forty-five minutes gave Theresa a detailed, a virtual blow by blow account of every single sexual and social event of her and Steve's short relationship, She described their dinners, their casual talks, and she talked about the ribbons, the corset, the chains, the horrible spanking, the backyard, the visit to the reservoir, and her current occupancy of the gazebo.

When Cathy was finished Theresa whistled, "Gosh, you two have been around the world a few times. And you're still together? The whole thing sounds crazy. Honestly, the chains and the stuff in the backyard? That's about as far from the Steve Murphy I know as a person could get"

Cathy frowned, "You think I'm making this up?"

Theresa answered, "No. I just can't get over it. Let me tell you a little more about Steve Murphy."

Cathy sat back. She cupped her hands under her chin, "I'm all ears."

Theresa began, "First there's not a lot to tell. He was a mediocre high school and college student, never showed any ambition for anything. He liked the girls, fooled around a lot in college." She looked at Cathy studiously, "Never dated anyone quite like you. I mean he liked the big girls, big breasts, blond hair, Swedish types, you know.

"I saw Leah's picture. She wasn't a blond."

Theresa answered by putting her hands over her chest, "Big though, and popular, and loud. Leah sort of took Steve over when they were young. Right from the beginning she ran him around. He never got away from her."

Cathy held up the scrap of napkin, "But this?"

"Steve wasn't reliable. He had a wandering eye. He was hard to manage. While they were both at college, her at one school, him at another, it was easier for Leah to look the other way. Once they got married it was different. She couldn't control him any longer."

Cathy replied thoughtfully, "I haven't seen any of that."

Theresa gave her head a tilt and twisted the palm of her hand, "It's hard to explain. Leah's death crippled him. Then there's you."

Cathy visibly stiffened.

"Look I'm not being cruel. You're not like any girl I've ever seen Steve with. I mean you're not exactly pretty, your personality, your whole demeanor, it doesn't add up. A few years ago Steve wouldn't have given you the time of day. Honestly, now he's tying you up, dressing you up, locking you up and chasing you around on a lawn mower. He called me up the other day and begged me to help him save this relationship. I mean he was begging. It's like he's flipped his lid."

Cathy had a problem with some of the things Theresa had been saying, "I know I'm not pretty, but see here, the things Steve's done; I think I could have stopped any of it anytime. I'm no masochist; I just thought, well it was with Steve. I know that doesn't make any sense, but it wasn't till he spanked me that I got scared. Honestly Theresa, I think Steve and I, I think it could work. People can change."

Theresa stared at Cathy, "After what he's done and you're still around. That says something. I don't know what. I guess that's what they call true love."

Cathy sat and listened to the other woman's astonishment, "So tell me, what do we do next?"

Theresa sat and stared at Cathy for several seconds, "You really do love him?"

"Yes I really do."

"You know he hasn't done an honest day's work in his life. The only positive thing he's got is the hospice."

"I want to be a part of that."

Talking to Cathy was making Theresa horny. She drifted off a little bit, "Have you ever been with a woman?"

Cathy stiffened, "I like men."

"Just wondered; look let me think this over. You have a phone out in the gazebo?"

"No, but I'll get one."

Theresa smiled, "Let me buy you one today before we go back?" She kept looking at the pretty black maid's uniform, the snow white collar, and short cuffs, the pretty black shoes, the way Cathy's little boobs pushed against the material, her heart shaped mouth. No better not she thought, just the phone.

Together they went to the mall and Theresa bought Cathy a cell phone. They had another coffee at a kiosk. Theresa had an idea, and she explained it. The way she saw it the best thing to do was to give Steve something, one last fetishistic bonanza. Let him name his fantasy and play it out. If he didn't have the maturity to go ahead after that, get it out of his system once and for all then he wasn't worth it and Cathy should cut bait and run.

Cathy thought it sounded crazy but might help, it certainly couldn't hurt. She'd be taking a risk, but she was sure Steve would never hurt her no matter what the fantasy might be. It would be sort of like using fire to put a fire out.

Theresa offered to buy Cathy a laptop, but Cathy said there was one in the gazebo, and it was Internet ready. In fact she explained that's what had kept her busy the last several days.

At last Theresa dropped Cathy off. There at the front door before Cathy got out Teresa said one more thing. "There's something I'd like you to do for me."

"Yes?"

Theresa leaned over, "Will you kiss me."

Cathy leaned over and the two women kissed.

As Cathy got out of the car Theresa reminded herself half heartedly, no not my type, she drove off.

Cathy felt as little queasy after kissing Theresa. She went back to the gazebo to await events. She didn't have to wait long. Steve was at the door within the hour. She hadn't even gotten out of the maid's uniform yet.

Steve walked out to the gazebo and softly knocked on the door.

Cathy looked over from her seat on the sofa, "Yes?"

"May I come in?"

"It's your gazebo."

"No please."

"Come in if you like."

Steve went in. He looked at her. He really liked the little outfit. All men did, it was a part of a whole fetish fantasy, some beautiful woman all dressed up, a willing little servant, a voluntary slave, a willing pet, the kind of thing all men dreamed about it, "I'm concerned."

Cathy listened. She thought he was reading Theresa's script, "Yes, really?"

"Yes," he said, "If you're my slave I want you my way."

Cathy sat on the sofa and curled her feet under the skirt of her dress, "You don't say."

He watched her shift her feet. He thought she looked extra demure. He wished he'd handled things differently. He knew he was lucky she was still around, "Yes."

Cathy knew she had every reason to hate Steve. She knew she could cut his emotional balls off knowing what she did about Leah's pregnancy. Heck, she could show everybody the chains and destroy him publicly. She just couldn't do it; neither thing. He had all the same weaknesses other men had. She remembered once she'd read a book about male sexuality; it had said all men had two sex lives, one they shared with the world and another they kept hidden, their darkest fantasies. She just couldn't hurt him, "Well what's that?"

"I want..."

"Yes?"

"I..."

"Yes, speak up."

Steve blushed. He turned as red a McIntosh apple, "I..."

"Steve you better get it out."

"I want my own little school girl."

"You want a what?"

He turned even more crimson. Theresa was wrong. She wouldn't go for it. He stammered, sort of mumbled, "I want you to be...my...uh...school girl."

Cathy was both relieved and a little disgusted. The last thing she wanted was to climb back into a lot chains, or pretend to be some stupid harem girl; things she figured most men would want. But a school girl? Wow, stupid Steve. She could do that though. She tried to control her relief and her limited enthusiasm. This wasn't too far from what she'd thought she'd be doing if she got to work at the hospice. A school girl, she was already small, had smallish breasts, and he'd already commented on her innocent childlike appearance.

She thought yes, this was just the kind of stupid thing Steve might want. Sure it made sense. All men had their dumb fetishes, but Steve's weren't mean, not really. In spite of the chains, his peculiarities were childlike, silly even. She carefully worded her next sentences, "Well Steve, you weren't thinking about a spanked school girl?"

His heart leaped for joy. She was interested, "Oh no!" School girls never get spanked."

"What would a school girl do?"

"She'd wear a uniform."

"Just one uniform?"

"Oh no, my school girl would need several."

"What would she do?"

"She'd go out with her school master."

"School master?"

"No I mean teacher, no I mean daddy."

"Where would they go?"

"Every place. They go to the zoo, the movies, the theater, the opera, out to eat, everywhere."

"Would she be treated well?"

"Oh yes, she'd be treated like a princess. She'd get anything she wanted. She'd get to do whatever she wanted, anything," he hesitated for emphasis, "I mean like anything."

Cathy wanted to protect herself, "Would she ever be punished?"

Steve's answer leaped off his tongue, "Oh no! Never! She be spoiled! She'd get anything she wanted. I mean anything all the time!"

Cathy felt better, but there was something else she had to clear up, "Could she go to the hospice?"

"Oh, of course, the hospice. She'd be at the hospice all the time. She'd see the children. I mean the other children."

Cathy was home free at last. This was going to perfect, just perfect, She went over and knelt down in front of the lap top computer on the small table that rested in front of the sofa, "Gee, maybe we better look at uniforms and such."

carvohi
carvohi
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