Side Chapter 9: A Tale of Two Females
Author's Note: This chapter takes place directly at the same time as the last chapter, beginning that Friday before Yasui's camping trip. I really wanted to do a side story for two of my favorite side characters to write, so I decided to combine them into one super-side chapter. Also, WARNING! There is some mild psuedo-sexual and abuse related content in this chapter. It is all handled in a non-graphic manner and is for character development. You are able to skip this chapter and not miss anything but context for side characters if you want.
As the Cooking Club finished up for the day, Chaussette watched as everyone dispersed to go about their preparations for the weekend. Yasui hadn't been here, as he had a camping trip to go on for a class project. That had definitely put a damper on Chaussette's mood during their club meeting. While she liked her other clubmates, especially Yufine who was a relatively close friend, she definitely liked Yasui the best.
Chaussette began cleaning up some of the bits and pieces that had been left out by her clubmates. She didn't blame them for not helping out, they were used to Yasui and herself staying behind to tidy up and check on their stock of ingredients. While she had always said the reason why it needed to just be the two of them was because Yasui was the president and she was the treasurer, the real reason was that she just liked having some alone time with the older boy.
Chaussette sighed as she did her best to move cleaned and dried cooking utensils around. It was frustratingly difficult to do even the most basic things as a snake. It frequently felt like the entire world was built without them in mind. Door handles that were impossible to grab unless you felt like putting it in your mouth (disgusting and unsanitary, not to mention how demeaning it was.) Stairs that were uncomfortable to slither up. Freezing cold walkways in the winter that made Chaussette feel like her blood was freezing in her veins. And to top it all off, practically everything needed fingers to work.
Chaussette's lack of attention awarded her a painful smack on the head by a heavy wooden spoon as it fell from the drawer she had been trying to place it in. She frowned, or did the closest a creature without lips could do to frown, at the offending object and wrapped a portion of her tail around it to lift it back up to its resting place. She remembered something similar happening before while she and Yasui were cleaning. A pot had landed on her after she had been trying to lift it up to the high cupboard where it usually was stored. Immediately Yasui had rushed over to check on her.
"Chaussette! Are you okay?" Yasui had said, his eyes brimming with concern. Chaussette had winced, or done the equivalent for an animal without eyelids, and bobbed her head.
"I think ssssso."
"Are you sure? I can take you up to the nurse if something's hurting."
"Jussssst a little bit bruissssed… I hope." Chaussette had replied. Yasui knelt down beside her and motioned towards the section of her body where the pot had landed on her.
"Well let me take a look. I'd rather be safe than sorry. Can't have an invaluable member of the club out of commission, can I?"
Chaussette would have blushed if she was capable of it. That was one of the things she enjoyed most about being in the Cooking Club. Yasui made her feel useful. It wasn't very often someone would say, "I wish there was a snake here to help out" or "this seems like a job for someone without limbs." But when she was with the Cooking Club she was the one Yasui trusted the most. It was a wonderful feeling for a snake.
Chaussette shyly nodded her approval and watched as Yasui gently felt her scaly side. As per usual, whenever Yasui touched her, Chaussette felt a little thrill go through. His hands were warm and gentle, but strong at the same time. For once in a rare while Chaussette was glad her face was naturally extremely expressionless. She didn't usually like being touched, even by Yufine. Whenever Yufine would rarely touch her or pick her up, the tiger would always shudder a bit. Chaussette tried not to take it personally, but she had often heard Yufine talk about how much she hated slimy things, but Chaussette was different. It was a polite way to cover for finding her repulsive to touch. But Yasui, she wished he'd pick her up and never let go.
There was no recoiling in disgust as his fingers gently prodded and massaged her bruised side. It was a little sore, but no sudden twinges of pain. And those warm hands were pleasant on her scales. Yasui raised his eyes to meet her gaze.
"Nothing feels broken. Did that hurt?"
Chaussette shook her head. Yasui smiled at her and stood.
"I'll take care of those top shelf dishes. I am tall after all, well now I am at least. Can you get the cleaning supplies put away? I finished with them but sort of left them lying around."
Chaussette happily set about putting the various sponges and cleaning chemicals away before dealing with the broom and mop. Once the room was spotless once more, Yasui put his coat on and grabbed his bag. He turned to Chaussette and tilted his head with a smile.
"Want to walk with me? Or do you have stuff to do?"
"I'd love to walk with you." Chaussette happily replied. That was another thing. He never said "do you need me to carry you?" anymore, or "can you keep up?" like the few other animals that spoke to her did. He just made her feel… normal, not like a freak. She gratefully slithered into his unbuttoned coat and coiled herself around his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. She flicked her tongue happily as she settled into his warm fur, watching as he buttoned up his coat and picked up her bag as well.
Chaussette returned to the present with an unpleasant snort. There was no Yasui to carry her comfortably back to her dorm today. Just her and the freezing early February air. She slipped into the long, tubelike coat she had and used her snout to click the remote sewed into the fabric. Most reptiles had a coat or two with heating pads stitched into them, they sold them all over. However because she had to slither across the ground, only part of her body could be covered at any time. Otherwise she would have no traction while moving.
Chaussette pushed the door to the outside open and immediately groaned in discomfort as a chilly gust of wind ran frigid knives across her exposed scales. It was a horrible feeling, half of your body being somewhere warm while the rest feels like ice. As she slithered as quickly towards the dorm as she could, she tried not to think about the mind numbing cold filling her body. She couldn't shiver to raise her temperature like a warm-blooded creature, or rub herself to heat up with friction because she had no arms. She couldn't even cry because of the discomfort, because she had no tear ducts. It felt like an eternity of icy, piercing misery that Chaussette made her way towards her dorm. The cold slowed her metabolism, which caused her to become sluggish and slow. Only the heated coat she wore kept Chaussette from stopping all together, going catatonic from the low temperature.
Finally, Chaussette sluggishly pushed the door to the dorm open and slowly made her way to the room she shared with several other female snakes. They were all at least two years older than her. Snakes didn't have the same dorm policy as other creatures. Not only were there far fewer snakes attending Cherryton than any other species, but because of their unique physical characteristics they required special accommodations. Currently, Chaussette had the room all to herself, which meant the heater wasn't on yet. It was barely warmer than outside.
Chaussette sluggishly turned the large heater on and removed her bag and coat before slithering into her bunk. The bunks in the snake room were close to the ground and much narrower than normal beds. Chaussette had a curtain hung over hers to grant her privacy, as did all the other girls in the room. She had her bunk decorated with some personal effects and decorations. There were pictures of her and her parents, some small posters of bands she enjoyed, a few of her favorite books, and a picture of herself and Yasui at their stand at the Festival of the Meteor. But most importantly, Chaussette had her heated pillow. It was a long, plush cushion that once turned on would become cozy and warm.
Chaussette coiled around the pillow and groaned at how cold she was. Slowly the pillow warmed up and she pulled a blanket over herself and the pillow with her mouth, only leaving her head exposed. It would take some time for her temperature to rise back to normal and she wouldn't feel sluggish and tired. Chaussette rested her head on the pillow and looked up at the picture of Yasui and herself, back when he was so little and cute. She definitely missed those days, back when it was just the two of them. They had spent a lot more time together back then, before Yasui got as busy as he currently was. He had been the only friend she'd made at school at the time, and still was the closest friend she had. But she knew that he mattered more to her than she did to him. Chaussette was aware she was nobody's favorite person or best friend.
Chaussette sighed sadly as she stared at the picture and gradually started to get warm. With a twinge of shame, she pulled a bundle of soft wool towards her and nuzzled her face into it. The object in question was a scarf Yasui had let her borrow one day while they had been waiting for the rest of their clubmates. Yasui had loaned Yufine the keys to the club room and building so she could get her backpack which she had forgotten, and now they couldn't get into the building without her. Eventually Yasui had broken down and decided to go find her. Before he had left Chaussette, he had pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around the part of her body that the coat didn't cover as she lay coiled inside his backpack where it lay on the ground.
"I got it nice and warm, so hopefully it'll keep you comfortable. Be back in a bit." He had said before rushing off. Yasui had forgotten to ask for it back, and Chaussette hadn't realized she still had it until she had brought it back to her room. She had meant to return it, but kept forgetting. Until she realized another use of the scarf. It was one Yasui had brought from his home and had clearly worn frequently, which meant it was absolutely inundated with his scent. Chaussette knew it was a bit creepy, but she just… liked the way Yasui smelled. It was comforting to her, like a mug of hot tea and a book during the winter.
As she buried her face into the scarf and flicked her tongue to absorb the pleasant scent of the scarf, Chaussette let her mind wander. She had always had an active imagination, probably because she was an avid reader like Yasui was. She guessed that it came from having a librarian and literary expert as parents. Slowly, Chaussette relaxed and slowed her breathing. Her tongue still occasionally flickered out to bring more of the scent of the scarf into her Jackobson's organ. Yet another thing that she didn't get to experience like a normal person. She had to smell with her tongue, not her nose. That and the fact that she didn't have eyelids meant she couldn't close her eyes to focus. She had to see all the time while she was awake, which was so frustrating!
Chaussette adjusted her long, muscular body and squeezed the heated pillow a bit. She was supposed to be calming down and relaxing, not getting more worked up. She told herself to focus on her other senses. The sensation of the warm pillow slowly seeping wonderful heat into her cold body, but not fast enough. No, focus. The sound of the heater gently purring to life outside her bunk. That wonderful, wonderful scent.
She could practically name all the little intricacies of Yasui's scent by now. The gentle and soothing, yet slightly spicy, fragrance of lavender from the shampoo Yasui used. She loved that he didn't feel less like a male when he used a floral scented shampoo. He said that lavender was a perfectly fine scent for guys or girls. Then those wonderful little notes of spice from all the cooking he did. Cinnamon, black pepper, clove, and just a hint of chili powder. And then the rich aroma of coffee from his job. No matter what he did, Yasui always smelled faintly of coffee. Like Chaussette's parent's kitchen back home. And finally, that deep bassline to his scent. His natural animal fragrance. And there was nothing like it in the world. Trying to describe it was like trying to describe what bubblegum tasted like to someone who'd never tried it, or what color was to a blind person.
Chaussette guilty pulled her face away from the scarf and groaned. She knew that was weird. It was a bit creepy, no, a lot creepy. She was like some weird stalker, or an obsessed fangirl to a boyband. Yasui was her friend, and he clearly didn't think of her as anything else. At least, that's what Chaussette's brain said. But her heart couldn't help but want what she knew she couldn't have. Her mother had explained the way relationships worked for snakes. As a whole they were more a necessity for reproduction than anything. Most snake marriages were intellectually driven. There wasn't much to be attracted to in a snake. No glossy, silky fur to be praised. No arms or legs to admire. No subtle curves and warm bodies to be enjoyed. Heck, many species of male snakes didn't even have a true… member. So the act of copulation was a relatively clinical affair. No pleasure to be found.
But Yasui made Chaussette feel special. He was the only person who had ever said Chaussette was pretty. He had said her scales were a pretty color, and that she was smooth and pleasant to the touch. Yasui had even said that he liked having her ride around in his coat, that it was comfortable having her coiled around him. "Like a hug" he had described it. Chaussette shifted a bit and looked at the picture once more. He wasn't cute anymore. He was handsome. Tall, a bit muscular, confident. That goofy little fox had grown into a real stud. She wondered what he looked like undressed. She hadn't ever seen him naked, or even in a bathing suit. He was probably handsome. Those long, athletic limbs from the exercises he did every morning. And what about his—
Chaussette hurriedly pushed that line of thinking away. What was wrong with her!? That was so creepy! She felt gross and slimy all of the sudden, and deeply ashamed. She had developed such a nasty imagination recently. It had never been a problem before. All her daydreams had been about what it would be like to have limbs or other fanciful topics. Not what it would feel like for her club president to be inside her.
"Get your mind out of the gutter!" Chaussette growled to herself. With a disgusted noise she tried to calm herself again. Her mind wandered to a topic she had recently done some reading on, snakes in ancient folklore. She had been curious if there were any stories about snakes among the fairytales and legends that commonly showed up in fantasy books. And what she had found hadn't been very nice. Most mythologies claimed snakes were a cursed species, that the gods had taken their limbs from them as punishment for some crime or other. In any story snakes were either wicked schemers or a cursed form that a protagonist might be turned into. She had even read a story where on their wedding night, the hero and his love had been struck with a curse. The lady had been turned into "a foul and hideous serpent, loathsome to look upon." Not exactly politically correct.
Chaussette sighed. There was no way Yasui liked her romantically. What was there to like? Unless he found shapeless tubes of muscle pleasant. He was just a good friend. But then… he had taken her to the Winter Performance. And he had started confiding and opening up to her more and more. Was there a chance? Even if not as a real relationship, maybe some sort of pseudo-dating scenario? What would that be like? No, best not to entertain that line of thinking. Back to the stories she had read. Although maybe there could be a different outcome this time….
[The handsome canid looked down at the snake coiled in front of him. The serpent turned away, abashed at her hideous body. What a foul curse to befall them at the height of their happiness. Surely her love couldn't bear the sight of her.
"Don't look at me! I'm hideousssss! Transsssformed into a wretched and lowly ssssnake! Nobody could love a freak like me!"
The canid gently cupped his hand under his love's chin and turned her scaly head to face him. His expression was like warm honey, soothing the pain in her soul.
"Don't say that about yourself. You're still the same beautiful person I first met so long ago."
"You're jusssst ssssaying that!" The snake cried. "How could ssssomeone like you love a sssssnake!"
Gently, Yasui tilted her head back and leaned forward. His soft lips met her scaly mouth, and Chaussette went rigid. Shocked, she stared up at him.
"Y-you don't hate me? You don't think I'm disssgusssting or creepy?"
Yasui slowly lay down beside her on the bed. He beckoned for her to join him. Hesitantly, she slithered up to coil an arm's length away. Yasui smiled invitingly at her.
"Chaussette, I can't begin to express to you how much you mean to me. I cherish you, and want to be with you always. Do you feel the same way?"
"Oh yessss." Chaussette breathed. "With my whole heart."
"Then I want you to trust me. Please, I want you close to me."
Hesitantly, Chaussette crept towards him. Like a thief furtively approaching a treasure that wasn't hers. But then, inviting hands gently pulled her close. Encouraging her to come nearer. Gently, agonizingly slowly, she wrapped herself around Yasui. Chaussette bit back a groan of pleasure at the wonderful warmth. Those muscles that had just the perfect amount of softness to really enjoy squeezing against. That wonderful scent. Their heads were level again as she surrounded him with her loving coils, and he happily luxuriated in her embrace.
Chaussette affectionately nuzzled her snout against Yasui's cheek, enjoying the warmth of their embrace. It felt so good to be this relaxed and without fear. A snake entangled like this was at their most vulnerable. They couldn't easily escape or fight when not coiled up like a spring. But the way Yasui caressed her and pulled her more invitingly against himself made Chaussette's ever present anxiety melt away. She felt special, she felt loved, and most of all she felt wanted. Those constant feelings of depression and her shame about her body were drawn away like poison from a wound.
"Are you ssssure you don't mind my body?" Chaussette whispered. In response, Yasui stroked his hands down her length. Chaussette trembled and pressed more closely to the male, tightening her hold on him. She slithered her coils around Yasui, desperately trying to reciprocate his caresses. It all felt so very good. The pulsing of his heart gently throbbed against her, and she moved her own heart to rest on top of it. It was like a desperate need, to get even closer. To blur the like between mammal and reptile, and become one. Pleasure welled up inside Chaussette. She needed him! She wanted him to desire her! To hold her and rub her and—]
Chaussette gasped and froze as the door to her room began to open. She had been so preoccupied with her daydream she had completely lost awareness of what was around her. It had felt so real, so good. And then realizing flooded in at what she was actually doing. Shame, guilt, and depression came roaring down like a tidal wave as she was faced with the brutal truth. She had been rubbing herself against a pillow while fantasizing about an upperclassman. She was the most disgusting, perverted, vile animal around.
Chaussette lay limply in her bed as whichever roommate this was went about whatever they were doing. Chaussette felt empty and cold. The confines of her body weighed heavily on her once more. Why couldn't she stop doing this! She didn't want to be a pervert! She didn't want to have some strange obsession with her friend! She needed to stop!
(But how? When I'm alone with Yasui I don't feel ashamed of myself. The constant, soul crushing anxiety that I feel every single day isn't so loud. I actually want to do things again, instead of just lying in bed in the dark all day. All the things that are wrong with me don't feel so bad when I'm with him.)
Chaussette nuzzled the scarf again. But not even Yasui's scent could make her feel better right now. Chaussette knew there was something wrong with her, that these weren't normal feelings for her to have. But who could she trust to ask for help? It was so hard to trust in a world that didn't want to acknowledge your existence.
Chaussette wished she could cry.
[Deep in the heart of the Red Light District, just outside the Back Alley Market.]
Rosemary, or "Mistress Rose" as she was called here, surreptitiously adjusted the high latex boots she was wearing as she prepared her room for her next client. The boots, coupled with the tight brazier, numerous belts, elbow length gloves, and mask completed the raiments of Mistress Rose. The lioness was personally glad it was winter. During the summer she never seemed to be able to get the smell of hot latex and sweat off.
As she cleaned her chamber, she quickly parsed through everything she wanted to remember about her last caller's visit and mentally filled it away. Being a dominatrix was tiring work, especially if you were actually good at it like Rosemary was.
Rose only had a few moments to sit and rest before a tentative knock sounded on her door, announcing her final session of the night. The lioness raised an eyebrow. Clearly a new client to the club, most likely a bit nervous. Of Rose had to guess, a BDSM newbie. That meant it was wise to be a bit gentle with them, help explain the rules. In her most imperious and smoky voice, Rose addressed her new caller.
"Enter."
She watched as a slender dog slowly opened the door and leaned in. The dog was female, a crossbreed of some variety, and young. If Rose had to guess, she was probably in her mid twenties. The dog gulped when she saw Rose stand and look commandingly down at her. Rose could imagine why. Intimidation most likely. She was a good deal taller than this canine and far more filled out. Rose had all the beauty and strength of a female at the prime of her life, while this dog was rather slight and unassuming.
In the span of a few seconds, Rose had her first impression finished and was ready to begin. This was clearly someone who was extremely hesitant about being here. Possibly here on either a dare or some other rite of passage. From the way she hunched over and crossed her arms, she was self conscious and trying to comfort herself. Definitely a flight risk.
"Come here, have a seat." Mistress Rose purred in a voice like honey. "I've never seen you before. Welcome to my chambers."
The dog glanced at the door before hesitantly taking a seat on the couch Rose had pointed to. The lioness sat down beside her, and the dog pressed against the arm of the couch a bit, distancing herself from Rose. The lioness maintained her queenly look, despite internally frowning. This dog was going to be a tough nut to crack.
"Tell me, what brings you here?" Rose softly rumbled. The dog rubbed her arms and looked at the floor.
"Well… uh… I'm a… journalist. I'm… doing a story about… this sort of… stuff. Why people— other people— enjoy…."
As the dog trailed off, Rose smiled wryly.
"BDSM?"
The dog flinched a bit at that and scooted a bit towards the door. Rose saw through this dog. She was lying. She'd seen it before, many times. Someone too embarrassed to admit that they were curious about the world of BDSM, too ashamed because of their preconceived notions. First, Rose would have to do a little massaging.
"I'm not surprised that you're hesitant and embarrassed to come here. My line of work tends to have some stereotypes about it, mainly untrue. For starters I don't just smack people around for fun. It's essential that every instance of role play is handled with consent and clarity. Some clients want specific barriers, others essentially want our Mistress and submissive roles to be almost permanent. For instance, one of my clients is an older bloodhound who I was informed was well versed in BDSM and liked the role play to be constant, no scene breaking. Others, we decide on a scenario and act it out before talking a bit about what we liked and didn't like."
Rose smiled and rested her head on her propped up hand.
"Besides, it's so much more than just a fetish. Especially because for me, I don't see it as work. For me, it's a relationship. Between myself and the people who depend on me."
"D-depend on you?" The dog stammered. "Like for… sex stuff?"
Rose chuckled mysteriously and gently ran a claw across the dog's cheek. The dog gasped and flinched away, but turned her full attention to Mistress Rose. As it should be. This wouldn't work if she was staring at the floor. Rose crossed a latex-clad leg and idly adjusted one of the many thin straps that suggestively wrapped her body.
"You'd be surprised how little of my art is sexual in nature. Oh sure, some Dommes simply get people off with some bondage. But what I do is different. While some of my callers seek me out for sexual release, many more do it for the catharsis I give them. Especially the female ones."
"You have other female clients?" The dog abruptly blurted out before clamping her mouth shut. Rose chuckled.
"A few. Are you surprised?" When the dog nodded, Rose leaned against the couch in a relaxed manner.
"It's very simple. Almost everyone has something they feel guilty about. Some dark secret that eats away at them. Some people manage to repress those feelings naturally. Others use drugs and alcohol. I help those poor souls who can't find any way to escape that pain by externalizing it for them."
"I don't understand." The dog said with a tilted head. "You… externalize their pain?"
"Exactly. I use a number of methods to help draw out their regrets and secrets, and then I 'punish' them for those secrets. You'd be surprised how relieved someone feels to be punished for something they never got caught doing."
The dog rubbed her arms again. She looked away from Mistress Rose and frowned.
"I'm not sure how… well, I don't get it."
"Would you care for a demonstration?" Rose purred gently, leaning in towards the canid. This nervous little newcomer was feeling curious, but still intimidated. Definitely a candidate who needed a soft dom to start.
"I-I don't know." The dog whimpered. "Maybe this was a mistake. I think I should go!"
As the dog stood, Mistress Rose lithly intercepted her and gently pinned her to the wall with her body. The dog squeaked and looked nervously up at the taller female from where her head rested gently cradled in Rose's cleavage. Rose gently stroked the dog's chin and smiled.
"There there. You're nervous, I understand. Your mistress understands you. You're not one to jump into anything, which is why your coming here to me has you so anxious. Here's what we'll do."
Rose leaned in until her mouth was gently brushing against the dog's ear. She whispered quietly to her.
"I'll take you back to the front and say that you need to reschedule. Think it over, and come back Sunday night at the same time if you decide you want to try."
Before she pulled away and released the dog from her embrace, Rose gently scratched her head.
"I can help you, you know. It's hard to be anxious when you're happily obeying your beloved mistress."
The dog's eyes fluttered as Rose scratched her ear. There was a soft *thump thump thump* of tail on wall before Mistress Rose gently pulled away. Rose internally grinned at how reluctant the dog seemed to be to leave Rose's embrace. Dogs, so cute. The perfect little subs. They just wanted someone to give them commands and praise them for being good little puppies. And so cuddly to boot, made for good aftercare.
Once Rose had sorted the situation out with the animal at the front desk, she sighed wearily and changed back into her normal clothes. It was currently just after midnight, which meant that Mistress Rose needed to transform back into Sister Rosemary.
The lioness made her way back to the somewhat dilapidated bulk of St. Trivia's Home for Children. Walking through the rusted gate, past the weathered brick courtyard and into the battered building itself, Rosemary crept silently back up to her room. Sometimes she wondered if she could keep this up, running an orphanage by day while working as Mistress Rose at night. But they desperately needed the money. St. Trivia's was located right along the edge of the rough part of the city. As such, more children were abandoned here because they were simply unwanted, and funding was scarce to care for them.
Over two thirds of the children in Rosemary's care were hybrids of some variety. Of the remaining portion of non-hybrids, over half had some form of birth defect or condition. As such almost nobody got adopted from St. Trivia's, while more kids were left on their doorstep every month. There weren't enough beds anymore. The younger children currently were sleeping three to a bed, four if they were small. Over fourty abandoned children, and Rosemary had to provide for them all with only an old cook and a half-blind handyman to help. She frequently felt that it was a bit too much responsibility for a thirty year old to take on, but she had been doing it for ten years now.
Rosemary had always had a sharp mind, even as a child. This meant she was always bored during school and preferred to teach herself. She was one of the children left at St. Trivia's as a baby, and had been one of the orphans there until she turned sixteen and offered to help the lady who was in charge of the operation, Sister Margo. Margo was a bumbling fool who ended up having to give more and more administrative duties to Rosemary, who was actually smart enough to do them. Of course that didn't excuse Margo from skipping town to go marry a wealthy Australian business tycoon, and leaving a twenty year old in charge of the orphanage.
Rosemary rubbed her head and took a deep breath as she got into her stiff and uncomfortable bed. A downside of her heightened mental faculties was she frequently had trouble shutting her brain off. She always was puzzling over something, some problem with the budget or other. But eventually sleep took her, and she drifted off into an uneasy rest.
Morning dawned, and Rosemary was up and about at six o'clock sharp. She helped prepare breakfast, feed the younger children, and get those children who were school aged off to the local government supported school. It was the same school she had gone to, and was statistically the worst school in the city. Overcrowded and underfunded, much like St. Trivia's. But what could you expect from the worst district in the area? That the government would happily pour money into the infrastructure only for it to be embezzled by officials so deep in the pocket of the various criminal organizations they were practically glued to their crotches.
Many of the children had patches on their coats. Even with the extra money working as Mistress Rose provided, there were always mouths in need of feeding and bodies in need of clothing. And unsurprisingly those orphans who grew up and left didn't particularly want to return and reminisce about their miserable childhood and give a large donation. Rosemary hated problems without solutions, they annoyed her.
Thinking about school and childhood caused Rosemary to idly reflect on her own school days as she deftly balanced the finances of the orphanage in the tiny broom closet of an office she had. She had absolutely detested school while she had been going. It was so boring to have to sit around and wait for the other children to understand a concept she had figured out weeks ago. She had quickly learned the best course of action was to completely learn everything in her textbooks within the first few weeks and then move onto something actually challenging, like calculus or physics.
Sister Rosemary's idle thoughts were interrupted as a quiet knock on the door preceded the door opening. Awkwardly shuffling through was one of the younger children who wasn't quite old enough for school, Ben. Ben was one of the numerous hybrids at the orphanage, and while not the strangest looking one, was definitely up there. He was a blend of turtle and some sort of amphibian. His shell was only partially formed, and would most likely need to be surgically removed at some point if it didn't start growing with him correctly. His skin, while scale covered, also secreted a steady layer of mucus. As such, he looked like a bizarre slimy turtle with only half of a shell. Ben stared up at Rosemary sadly.
"Shishter Rosy? I… I'm shorry. I-I."
Rosemary gave the child a patient smile.
"Were you sick again?"
The child nodded his head, ashamed. Poor Ben had the worst case of reflux Rosemary had ever seen. It was a rare day where he didn't vomit at least twice. Statistically, he wouldn't ever get adopted. But Rosemary wasn't going to tell him that. Most of the children here fervently wished someone would adopt them. They all dreamed of a warm and loving home where there was enough food to eat, new toys to play with, a bed all to themselves, and two parents who loved them. However the current trend seemed to be that of those orphans from St. Trivia's who left upon reaching eighteen years of age, over half would live in the slums around the Back Alley; and a further half of those would die either of predation, gang violence, or overdose. Many of the homeless of the area had grown up here.
Rosemary stood and gently stroked the boy's head, ignoring the slime that clung to her fingers.
"It's okay. I know you're trying hard not to be sick as much, but accidents happen. Let's go clean it up."
Ben nodded and shuffled out the door with Rosemary behind him. The little hybrid repeatedly babbled about how sorry he was, and how he almost made it to the bathroom. Rosemary quickly set to work cleaning up the puddle of sick on the floor before ushering Ben back into the room where the other little kids would play during the winter. The cook, an absolute ancient pig named Miranda, slowly tottered over to Rosemary.
"Ben almost made it to the bathroom this time. Almost."
Rosemary nodded before Miranda pointed to a cluster of kids loudly arguing.
"I tried to break them up, but I'm too frail to do much I'm afraid."
"I'll handle it." Rosemary coolly said before walking away. So many problems, and no real solutions. It was maddening, she couldn't help these children with the resources at her disposal! The best she could do was try to give them a slim chance at a better life before they were shuffled out and a new batch of outcasts took their place.
It turned out the argument was over crayons. There was only one red crayon in the bag of secondhand toys that one generous restaurant owner nearby had donated to the orphanage. And of course, everyone wanted it. She told them to share, they didn't want to, she took the crayon away until they could come up with a way that everyone got a turn. And that's the way her day went, putting out fires with temporary solutions while knowing damn well that the root problem couldn't be solved. And there was always another one, always another cry for Sister Rosemary to come fix their problems. Over and over and over again. And then, Peggy came home.
Rosemary was cleaning up the front of the orphanage as best she could when the door flew open and a figure ran up the stairs towards the dormitory, sobbing all the way. Rosemary sighed and closed the door, setting her cleaning supplies aside. Peggy. There wasn't a day that went by when she didn't come running home from school in tears. Rosemary followed her and found her lying on the bed she shared with another girl, crying her eyes out into her pillow.
Rosemary sat down beside the girl and gently laid a hand on her head.
"Bad day at school?"
Peggy turned her head and looked miserably up at Rosemary.
"Everyone makes fun of me because I'm a hideous disgusting freak! I have no friends, and nobody will ever love me! I'm going to be stuck here forever until I die alone and ugly!"
Sister Rosemary did her best to soothe Peggy. The problem was, the girl was most likely correct. She was, put bluntly, the most disturbingly misshapen creature Rosemary had ever seen. Half bear and half crocodile, her body was a lumpy patchwork of scraggly fur and scales. One eye was the dark brown of a bear, the other reptilian yellow. And the worst were the inflamed mounds. Frequently, scales would spread to an area covered in fur but not be able to grow in correctly. They'd form growths that were truly unpleasant to look at. That, or scales would partially die and not fall off right, needing to be pulled off like dead skin.
As Rosemary rubbed Peggy's back, the fourteen year old groaned in pain and flinched. Rosemary sighed.
"Oh dear, more scales are stuck?"
Peggy nodded miserably. Rosemary gently lifted Peggy's shirt and huffed. She counted six scales trying to break skin, and three dead scales that need to be pulled.
"You should have told me sooner. There's a lot of them now."
"But it hurts when you fix them."
"I know. But if we don't take care of them they can get infected. Come here, how about this. Once we get them all sorted we'll go to my office and you can have a piece of candy. A friend of mine gave me three little chocolates, and if you're brave you can have one. Deal?"
Peggy nodded sadly. Candy was a luxury that almost nobody got at St. Trivia's. Peggy slowed crawled into Rosemary's lap and buried her face in the lioness's belly. Carefully, Rosemary began working on the stuck scales. She'd asked a doctor the best way to deal with the issue when it first started happening, and had grown very adept at the process. First, she'd have to gently prod around until she found the leading edge of the scale, the part that was closest to breaking the skin. By the muffled whimpering coming from her belly, this was deeply uncomfortable for Peggy. Once the leading edge was found, Rose had to gently help push the scale out of the skin. Peggy squeaked and tightened her hold on Rosemary as, with a trickle of blood, the scale slid out of the pocket of skin trapping it. And then the process had to repeat five more times.
Removing the dead scales was easier at least. You just had to find where they were hanging on by a thread, typically dangling from a flap of skin, and carefully pluck them off. These didn't hurt as much, definitely not as uncomfortable as having dead scales dangling from you. Once everything was taken care of, Rosemary led a still weepy Peggy to her office and gave her one of the candies that another worker at Ebony and Royal, the BDSM club she worked at, had shared with her. As Peggy slowly nibbled on the chocolate, trying to savor every bite, she sniffed and gave a loud sigh.
"The other kids at school are right. I'm never going to be anything but a freak. I'll never get married or have a job or anything. Nobody wants an ugly piece of trash like me."
"Peggy." Rosemary sternly said. "I told you not to talk about yourself like that. All you're doing is reinforcing those thoughts until they control you."
Peggy looked at the ground.
"That's easy for you to say. You're normal, and beautiful. You could easily go find a handsome husband to sweep you off your feet and give you a fancy house and everything."
Rosemary chuckled and rolled her eyes. Peggy was definitely a dramatic girl, and obsessed with romance. Rosemary leaned forward a bit to get Peggy's attention.
"But I'm not going to. I chose to stay here and help all you children as best as I can. I never finished highschool, and by what everyone says that means I should be an absolutely miserable failure who lives in a cardboard box. But I'm content with my life, because it's the life I chose. You just have to find the life you want to choose."
Peggy carefully set her chocolate down and walked around the desk to hug Rosemary.
"If everyone says that about you, then that means everyone is stupid. You're the smartest, prettiest, nicest person ever."
Rosemary smiled and returned the hug. But once again, she was haunted by her helplessness. She couldn't fix the problem, just comfort Peggy. That was the way everything went at the orphanage. Nothing ever got fixed, and as such her mind never could rest. It was constantly churning, calculating, trying to puzzle out a solution. Sometimes Rose felt like her brain was some engine running constantly with no "off" button. It just ran and ran and ran, growing hotter and more exhausted as it went. Her only escape was by adopting her "Mistress Rose" persona once again.
At the BDSM club, every problem was solvable. She could piece together and deduce what each of her callers wanted and needed, and develop a plan to implement the solution. And each visit gave her a new puzzle to work through. It felt like pouring cool water over that overheating engine that was her brain.
Sunday night was no different. Especially because she had not only the possible return visit of the curious newcomer, but also Rikimaru. Rikimaru was a personal favorite of hers, a perfect conundrum she had unraveled to extremely satisfying results. She still wasn't sure if she had been fed incorrect information when he first arrived, that he was well versed in BDSM culture and wanted it as hardcore as possible, but figuring him out had been very fun. And to top it all off he had landed in hot water with both Rose and Cosmo, a friend from earlier times, being here to put him through his paces.
Retired police chief turned bouncer living in disgrace. He had a lot of feelings to externalize. Mainly his own sense of humiliation and shame. But then there was his great frustration. Rose had easily pieced together why he had come to her specifically. He was hunting someone with a partner. She had then used her knowledge of who came to Ebony and Royal, coupled with some dedications based on information she gathered, to figure out who he was looking for. Some extremely paranoid fur trader named "The Fox Queen." Rose suspected Rikimaru had hit a dead end with his hunt by how extremely agitated he was during their session. She had to really work him over to get him out of his head and enjoying himself at her mercy. But it was fun to work with Cosmo again.
Rose wondered if he'd ever get desperate enough to ask her for assistance. If so, she'd be glad to point him in the right direction. But she wouldn't spoil the hunt for him, he needed a reason to live after all. But he probably had discovered the "maid" lead by now, Rose's guess was that was what he and Cosmo had met over tonight. She had needed to point him towards her after he asked if she knew anyone who might be able to help him get info. How long until he discovered that was a red herring? That it was for one of her warehouses and not her actual home. Rose could, if he asked, tell him that this paranoid animal from Korea had only one weakness. She would expose herself when indulging in her vice of choice, "male entertainment." Odd, that a psychotic female who sold the skins of foxes was so very fond of exotic male strippers. But that was a topic for another day.
Rose looked around her room a bit in preparation for the return of that shy dog from earlier. She guessed there was an eighty percent chance she would return. Rose had also had time to reflect on the newcomer's behavior and develop some theories about her. Her current hypothesis was that this girl was from a very traditional upbringing. She had probably been pressured into doing the normal thing for years and years, until suddenly she realized she was an adult but had never made a single choice for herself. As such, she decided to do something wild and crazy and visit a BDSM club. Most likely the idea originated from a smutty novel she had read. Erotic novels containing some aspects of bondage were popular nowadays.
Mistress Rose smiled in satisfaction as there was a gentle knock on the door. Correct again.
"Enter, pet. Your mistress is ready for you. I'm so glad you decided to come back after all."
The young dog slowly opened the door and stepped inside. She looked at Mistress Rose in bewilderment.
"How did you know it was me?"
Rose sultrily walked over and gently closed the door, drawing the dog back with her towards the couch.
"Because I can sense it in you. You're curious about what I can do for you. You want to take a little walk on the wild side, but aren't sure where to start by yourself. Don't worry, Mistress knows just what you need."
The dog gulped and rubbed her arms. Yet another self-comforting gesture. Rose made a mental note to be sure she was gentle with this girl. She clearly needed a light touch, much more affectionate and mentor-like than your typical Domme-Sub relationship. Best to start slow, build some rapport, and then ease her into things.
"That's… a little scary. It's like you can read my mind." The dog hesitantly replied. Mistress Rose patted her hand gently.
"You learn to read people if you're going to be a good dominatrix. You want to keep things exciting and fun, but never go too far and accidentally hurt your subs. Speaking of, I'm guessing you have a few questions about what we're going to do tonight?"
The dog nodded.
"Well… yeah. I'm not entirely sure how this works. Just… could you give me a little rundown of how this whole… dominatrix thing works? Please?"
"Of course, pet." Rose smokily replied. "BDSM is heavily dependent on roleplay. We'll come up with a scenario together and decide what we'll be doing in this scenario. And then we act it out, like a play. Once we're done, we'll take a little break to talk and see what our thoughts were. Typically what we each enjoyed about it, and what we didn't. I act as the dominant, and you as the submissive. Understand?"
The dog nodded, but then held up a finger shyly.
"Actually… so I'm supposed to do whatever you say while we… roleplay?"
"It depends on how you want to play your role as submissive. Are you a willing submissive who slavishly serves your mistress, groveling at my feet while desperately trying to please me? Or do you have some fight in you that needs to be stamped out? And of course we have a safe word we'll decide on for if something makes you uncomfortable and you need to stop."
The dog nodded, still nervous. She turned inward and sat hunched on the couch in silence for a bit. Mistress Rose waited patiently until the dog finally came to a decision. She looked up at Rose bashfully.
"Okay…. I want to give it a try. So… where do we start?"
Rose smiled approvingly and gently rubbed the dog's cheek with a gloved thumb. The canine shyly averted her eyes. She was so adorable, Rose couldn't wait to work with her.
"We'll start with what I call the 'Initiation' ritual. It's just for us to get to know each other a bit better, and establish a good foundation for future roleplay. Sound good?"
The dog nodded and Rose winked at her. Small steps, ease her into it. Hold her hand along the way. Rose stood and beckoned for the dog to join her.
"Excellent. Now, what should our safe word be? It needs to be something that doesn't come up in conversation often."
The canid shuffled her feet before shrugging.
"Maybe… 'curry' would work. Sorry, that's stupid! I ate curry for dinner and that's all I could think of!"
"Curry sounds perfect. Now, let's get started." Mistress Rose purred before shifting somewhat. Time to get into character. Showtime. With a steamy yet imperious look, Rose strutted around the dog as if inspecting a piece of furniture.
"Mmmm, so you're my new plaything. Tell me, what's your name, dog?"
"O-oh! We're starting. Uh… it's Lisa."
Rose grabbed Lisa's chin and tilted her head to meet her gaze with a stormy look.
"When you speak to me, you will call me 'Mistress Rose' or 'Mistress.' Do you understand, dog?"
"Yes!" Lisa squeaked. As Rose's narrowed eyes she hastily tacked on a "Mistress Rose" and a little nod. Rose released her and laughed seductively.
"Good, an obedient little doggy. You'll make a fine pet. Would you like that? To be my pet? To rest subserviently at my feet, caring only about what I tell you to."
Lisa bit her lip and held a hand to her throat. Yet another odd little gesture. Rose tapped a booted foot impatiently and intensified her gaze. Finally, Lisa nodded.
"Yes… Mistress."
"Yes what?"
"Uh… what you said. Mistress Rose."
"Say it." Rose purred, stepping closer. She loomed over the smaller female, dominating her with her presence. Lisa shyly scuffed her foot on the ground, her face flushed.
"I… want to be your pet, Mistress."
"Mmmmm, good girl. Now, let's get a good look at you. Take off your clothes, pet. Let your Mistress see you."
Lisa's eyes flickered to Rose's. Embarrassment was clear across her face. Rose needed to at least dampen that embarrassment a little bit. Slowly, Lisa pulled her shirt off before removing her shoes and pants. She stood with her arms wrapped around herself, her legs crossed. She was wearing boring beige underwear, like an old lady. Mistress Rose hooked a claw under the clasp to Lisa's bra and deftly popped it open. Lisa yelped as Rose removed the bra and dropped it onto the floor. Rose rested a hand on her hip and pointed downward with her other hand. Her instructions were clear, drop the panties. Hesitantly, Lisa finished stripping naked before standing hunched over herself in front of Rose. The dog trembled slightly, and Mistress Rose thought it was primarily from shame.
"Good girl. Is my poor little pet cold? You're shivering."
Lisa licked her lips. If Rose had to guess, she had never felt so embarrassed in her life.
"A little… Mistress."
Rose wrapped an arm around Lisa's shoulders, eliciting a squeak, and herded her towards the couch again. Rose reclined lazily on the couch and pulled Lisa down against her side, resting the shorter animal's head on her shoulder. While definitely unconventional, Rose felt this was extremely necessary to do. Every time she touched Lisa, even the most trivial bit, the dog would flinch and grow uncomfortable. Clearly she wasn't used to being touched, and it was pretty hard to do any form of BDSM without touching. Time to start breaking down some inhibitions.
"Poor puppy, Mistress will warm you up while we chat for a bit." Rose purred and caressed Lisa's arm. Lisa's face was positively burning as she whispered something that sounded almost like "Thank you… Mistress Rose." Rose gave a throaty laugh as she shifted Lisa, who was as rigid as a plank of wood, a bit in her embrace.
"You're a cute little thing. So small and soft. Your Mistress loves cute little doggies, they're so very fun to tease."
Lisa shifted and turned her face away. Rose laid her hand on the dogs cheek and turned her face back towards her.
"Poor pet, you're not used to being touched, are you?"
"N-no." Lisa whispered. "Not really. My… parents weren't very big on touching. And I never really had time for a boyfriend or anything. Gosh, sorry. I'm probably doing a pretty crap job at this. I mean how can you do your job if I can't even—"
"Shush!" Mistress Rose said as she pressed a finger to Lisa's lips. "That's quite enough of that, pet. Now then, let's do a little physical examination."
Rose gently ran a hand down Lisa's chest and across her stomach. The dog squirmed and made an odd choking noise. Rose laughed and drew a little circle around Lisa's naval with her claw, causing the noise and squirming to intensify.
"Well well well." Rose purred. "Somebody's ticklish. I do enjoy a sensitive little pet. Go on, bark for your mistress. Bark to show how much you're enjoying this!"
Lisa laughed and begged for Rose to stop before finally giving a series of short barks. Rose chuckled in her throat and purred "good doggy" into Lisa's ear. Once Lisa had recovered, she pulled away and stood, looking bashful.
"C-can we stop, please? Uh… 'curry' I guess?"
Immediately Rose was confused. She had been very careful to ease the dog into this, gradually getting her used to being touched and roleplaying. The lioness sat up and crossed her arms, frustrated.
"What's the matter?"
Lisa shuffled her feet and rubbed her arm, covering herself as best as she could.
"It's just… well. I appreciate what you're doing, being gentle with me and everything. And I was really enjoying it, actually! It was… nice. But I want to try, you know, the real thing. At least a little bit."
That was something Rose could understand. Lisa wanted something more 'BDSM' than obeying commands like a good pet. Rose could make that happen. But what would work best? The dominatrix stood and ran a finger across Lisa's throat.
"You want something more intense? Mmmmm, brave doggy. So eager to be helplessly chained up by your mistress. I could tie you to a chair and extinguish cigarettes onto you, grind my heel into your flesh for some added fun."
Lisa curled inward a bit and blushed furiously.
"M-maybe something a little less intense! Uh, Mistress Rose!"
Rose purred.
"Hm, but first things first. You interrupted me before I could finish. Now, stay right there, pet."
Rose walked over to a box and pulled out a purple collar. She deftly fastened it around Lisa's neck and gently hooked a finger through the ring in the front, giving it a little tug. You had to be sure it wasn't too tight.
"Purple is a good color on you." Rose haughtily said. "A little something to remind you that you belong to me. If you ever take it off, I'll have to punish you."
Whatever Lisa was going to say was cut off as Rose tugged her by the collar to a tall pole and handcuffed her to it. The dog gulped as Rose strode around her, inspecting her.
"Is this intense enough for you?"
Lisa nodded, watching Mistress Rose with curiosity and apprehension. Once she was behind the restrained canine, Rose rubbed a hand across Lisa's bottom before giving it a solid smack. Lisa yelped, and her face grew flush. She liked it. Rose smirked before lifting Lisa's tail out of the way.
"What a cute little sound. Go on pet, yelp for Mistress!" And with that she delivered another solid slap. Lisa jumped and barked happily, her tail straining against Rose's grip. The dog grinned.
"Ooooooh geez! T-this is definitely more what I was thinking! It hurts, but in an… exciting way?"
Rose spanked her again.
"You'll learn to address me properly, or you'll find it difficult to sit down for days. Understand?"
Lisa bit her lip as she got spanked again.
"Y-yes Mistress!"
Rose nodded in satisfaction. Good, she was getting into it. Weird how most females enjoyed spanking so much. Maybe it was some bizarre psycho-semantic instinct left over from ancient mating rituals? But, Rose digressed. She had a person to spank. The key was hitting hard enough to get a solid smacking sound without causing much pain. It just needed to sting a little bit, not make them cry.
Eventually, Rose decided to kick things up a bit. Clearly this dog was a little bit versed in the trappings of stereotypical BDSM roleplay. So maybe adding an old classic would excite Lisa. Rose casually strode over to the table where she kept her "tools" and ran a finger over the assembled items. She already knew what she wanted, but anticipation would only heighten the payoff. Lisa was properly in the zone now, squirming and moaning excitedly. Rose picked up a slender whip specially designed for situations like this and grasped it in a typically "Domme" fashion.
Lisa's face grew a stunned look and the color drained out from it. Rose was fine with a little fear when seeing her holding a whip. She knew how to use it well enough that it wouldn't hurt much more than her bare hand. It was the sound and thought of it that really added to the experience. Rose wound the tip of the whip around her other hand and gave it a loud crack. And that's when all Hell broke loose.
Immediately Lisa let out a bloodcurdling scream and strained against her restraints like a wild animal. Her eyes were wide and panicked as she cried and begged for mercy.
"NOOOOOOOO! I'm sorry! Please no! I'll be good! Please no!"
She struggled and flailed as Rose dropped the whip and rushed over to her. Rose quickly unlocked the cuffs and tried to talk over the frantic begging and sobbing of the dog. Once she was free, Lisa retreated to cower in the corner of the room. She was curled into a ball and sobbing when Rose made her way over to her. The lioness got on her knees beside the dog and spoke as gently as she could.
"Lisa, sweetie! It's okay! You're okay! Easy now, take a deep breath. Easy."
Rose gently stroked Lisa's back until her panicked hyperventilating slowed into hiccuping. Lisa wiped her eyes and sobbed once more.
"I-I'm sorry! I'm an idiot! I should have known this would happen! I guess I thought it was different enough to not… to not…."
Rose sat down cross legged and pulled the dog into her lap. This was clearly more than just being afraid of being whipped a little. Rose concentrated on what she had gathered so far. Rose probably had parents or guardians who put pressure on her to conform to societal norms. Coupled with the aversion to touch and comments about her parents not being very affectionate raised questions. And then, the breakdown over the whip crack. Immediately, Rose knew the most likely solution to the puzzle.
"Oh, Lisa." Rose crooned and held her close. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. See, you can relax."
There it was, the root of the anxiety and feelings of worthlessness. It was so obvious now to Rose. This girl was the victim of abuse. Most likely, her parents had hit her with a belt when she refused to behave how they wanted her to. Her comment about her thinking this would be different enough made Rose think that trying BDSM was her attempt to break the control this fear had over her life. Lisa probably felt like she could take back her life if she conquered her fear of being hit and abused by authority.
Rose carefully lifted the dog and carried her to the couch. Rose laid down and rested the smaller animal on top of her. Meanwhile, Lisa was still frantically apologizing for messing everything up and ruining Rose's night. Rose wiped some tears off Lisa's cheek and crooned.
"It's okay sweetie. Everyone has different needs, and I'm just here to help you fulfill them. If you need to come cuddle with me and feel safe for a while, I'm happy to be your safe place. I just want you to feel better."
Lisa sniffled and squeezed Rose a bit tighter.
"Thank you. You're… really sweet for someone who hurts people for a living."
Rose laughed and scratched Lisa's ear, earning a happy little squirm from the dog.
"You are my newest pet after all. What sort of mistress would I be if I didn't take care of my pet?"
Rose decided to let there be some silence after that while Lisa recovered. Many pieces of the puzzle fit into place now, and Mistress Rose knew how to treat Lisa now. Clearly she was used to any shortcoming, no matter how small, being met with severe corporal punishment. So roleplay wise it would be best to do the opposite. Reward "good behavior" with roleplayed spanking and the like, but make sure she feels safe and cared for the whole time. A bizarre roleplay inside of a roleplay scenario. But what Rose really needed to know was what got Lisa going. She had clearly gotten into the spanking, but not as much as Rose would like. This deserved further exploration.
Once Rose was satisfied that Lisa was good to continue, she propped her up so they were sitting beside each other on the couch once more. Rose smiled mischievously at Lisa.
"You know what would help us keep the roleplay enjoyable? We need to discover some of your kinks."
Lisa gulped.
"K-kinks?"
"Yes," Rose continued in amusement. "Some sort of fetish or other. Most people have at least one. So what's yours? What really gets you excited?"
Lisa crossed her legs and looked at the floor.
"Oh, well, normal stuff. Big muscles and nice teeth. That sort of thing."
Rose narrowed her eyes in satisfaction. So she did have a fetish, and she was embarrassed by it. She didn't want to talk about it, which meant it was at least somewhat deviant. Rose draped an arm across Lisa's still bare shoulders.
"Now now, pet. You shouldn't lie to your mistress. I'll have to punish you if you do. Besides, it'll just be between the two of us. Nobody will know. There isn't anything you've ever wanted to try? No matter how strange or unusual it is? Some part of someone you found oddly… intriguing?"
Lisa glanced at the floor again before licking her lips.
"Well other than the whole BDSM thing. I read about all the handcuffs and collars stuff in a book once. That was pretty hot."
Rose grinned as an idea formed in her mind. Lisa kept glancing at the floor the entire time they were here. But what if she wasn't staring at the floor? And her reaction to one specific comment earlier had been very blushy and extreme. Nonchalantly, Rose began rubbing her boot slowly up and down Lisa's leg. The dog froze and blushed, her fur standing on end.
(Jackpot) Rose internally crowed. With deliberately slow motions, Rose unlaced her long boots and pulled them off. Lisa's eyes went wide and she looked up at the ceiling. Lisa shivered when Rose ran her now bare leg across her's.
"Interesting." Rose purred. "The little doggie likes feet."
"No! I don't!" Lisa immediately blurted out. She looked very guilty. Rose stretched out and rested her feet on Lisa's lap. The dog made a sound like a rubber toy being stepped on and froze once more.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people have a foot fetish. It's honestly much better than most, and completely harmless. I'm not going to judge you for it, Mistress understands. You just want to massage my beautiful feet, worshiping them to your heart's content. You want me to step on you, don't you? What's the part you find most alluring? The sole? Toes? Or all of it? Just say the word and Mistress will step on you as much as you want."
Rose watched as Lisa sat hesitantly looking at her, occasionally glancing to her feet and back. If Rose had to guess, this was something that the dog was deeply ashamed of. Bizarre desires she didn't understand. Honestly, Rose was fine with indulging someone with a foot fetish. There were far, far grosser things to be into. And then, Rose watched as Lisa's resolve crumbled. The dog leaned forward and latched onto Rose's legs, staring needily into the dominatrix's eyes.
"Please, Mistress Rose! Please step on me! I want it so bad!"
Rose chuckled in a queenly manner. She hooked a finger through Lisa's collar and gave her a heavy lidded gaze.
"Lie down on the floor, pet."
Lisa scrambled eagerly off the couch and expectantly watched as Rose walked over with a provocative sway to her hips. Now they were getting somewhere.
Rose parted ways with a very happy Lisa at the end of their session. The dog affectionately hugged the lioness and told her how she couldn't wait for next time. Rose smiled and said the same before sitting down on the couch and happily sighing. They came to her with problems, and she fixed them. She made them feel better, more confident in their own skin. It was simple and rewarding. But outside of the room, beyond the club walls stood the orphanage. Its crumbling walls and desperate souls were a void of misery and longing that couldn't be fixed. Only soothed somewhat. But that was a problem for Sister Rosemary. Mistress Rose was powerful and in charge. There was nobody who she couldn't dominate and fix. Here, life was simple and rewarding. And she wished she could stay.