Mittens Has Class

Chapter 17: All Cats Like Cookies, Cause Of the Milk Probably

Once Marsha and Opal's bags were deposited upstairs, the group of them all settled into the den to socialize and for everyone to better get to know each other. As well as Marsha helping Master with his roping skills as they all talked. For her part, Krystal asked a number of questions about the relationship between Opal and Marsha, seeming genuinely in awe of how easy they made it sound. The pair seemed to have no end of patience with their answers, practically telling their whole story over the course of it.

It hadn't been a perfectly smooth trip, with Opal initially being very uncertain about a lot of things. Though the modern-day church was more generally accepting, her abuela, the aunt who'd mostly raised her, had raised with much less modern ideas of what was and wasn't 'right' in the eyes of God. Not just on homosexuality, but any kind of sexually 'deviant' practices. She'd had to keep this side of her life far away from her abuela, and her parents in Mexico, for fear of their reactions to it. As much as she wanted to believe they wouldn't exile her from their lives, there was no question that it would result in endless drama as they all tried to convince her to 'repent' her choices.

Despite this, she'd felt drawn to exploring her sexuality, finding herself very aroused by images of bondage and sexual masochism. In her limited knowledge of BDSM, based solely on the very biased main media versions and the overly exaggerated pornographic depictions, she'd found herself contacting Marsha for her services. Marsha had initially seen her as nothing but just another client, someone confused and clueless that didn't really know what they were looking for. However, Opal had taken to being a masochist the way Chloe had taken to being a lifestyle slave.

For her, the pain and suffering that Marsha inflicted became almost like some sort of religious experience in and of itself. It felt spiritual and freeing, as though whatever punishments her Domme gave her were purging her of impurity. It had helped her reconcile a lot of her conflicts with her more conservative upbringing, though she doubted her abuela or parents would have agreed with that interpretation.

Even though she usually whimpered, cried, and begged throughout many scenes, she rarely felt the need to use a safeword. In fact, they both joked that three out of four times she did evoke it, it was because she had to use the bathroom, not because she was exceeding any sort of limit. It had become such a thing that she now actually had two safewords. One that meant she was getting pushed too far ('apricot') and one that simply meant she had to pee ('squirt-gun').

Despite her immediate love of BDSM, it had taken time for them to somehow find themselves more than just client and Dominatrix. For months, they only saw one another during appointments, which became more and more frequent. Then it evolved into Opal sometimes hanging out afterwards, if there wasn't another client coming. Which somewhere along the way turned into them sometimes just getting together to spend time outside of the dungeon. Eventually, without either of them really broaching the subject, they'd found themselves in bed together.

"Not sexually, at first." Opal pointed out. "We'd just spent a whole Saturday together, going all over Atlanta doing...nothing in particular. We'd picked up some take-out on the way to Mars' place and ended the day binge-watching this random show. Next thing we knew, it was one in the morning."

"I mentioned going to bed and ditzy here just nods, half out of it, and walks to MY bedroom." Marsha chuckled as she worked at a particularly complex knot around Chloe's knees. "I didn't even question, just brushed my teeth and jumped in with her. After that, it just became a regular thing."

Opal grinned. "The first time more than sleeping happened was just as out of the blue."

Marsha shot her an amused look. "Not that out of the blue. I'd spent over two hours torturing you on the couch first. I'm pretty sure you would have humped the armrests if I hadn't scratched that little itch for you."