Her body thrummed. Three laps in and she was already in the zone, heart and lungs pumping in rhythm to her legs and arms. The confusion and tension from the day before left on the pool's edge, Complicit aroma left far behind. All she could smell was chlorine and that was perfect. Touch, flip and push. She was almost ready to push it; everything seemed to be turned on and ready. Touch, flip, push. Midway she jumped from the warmup to race pace driving to the far wall. Touch, flip, push she kept up the speed until midway back and shut it back down, feeling the muscles in her back, her glutes and the tiny distraction coming from her anus. She ignored it, annoyed it had even poked into her consciousness, and in spite of herself, further distracted by thoughts of the plug in her bathroom drawer, hoping Naomi didn't go snooping. Coach noticed her strokes as she approached the wall.
"What's going on Bronson?" Coach was yelling at her. "Hold up. I want to talk with everyone."
She grabbed the edge and waited for the others to tag in.
"What's up with you?" He stared at her, not expecting an answer, just filling time until everyone was at the wall.
Not much, Coach. Just your typical 18 year old servant-cunt-in-training with a budding lesbian relationship.
She smiled, turning away so he wouldn't think she was being a smart-ass.
Oh, and under the spell of a 100 year old witch. Nothing unusual.
Except for that mis-step at the start, the rest of practice was almost perfect. She felt alive, her body in control, her head clear. She didn't care whether she outperformed the others. She did, of course, but if she hadn't she wouldn't have given it a thought. It was enough to be moving, slicing through the water, her muscles pulling and compressing. Showering off at the pool, she thought it was the best feeling ever, hot water massaging hard-worked muscles. Until she remembered her orgasm from the day before and agreed with herself that
that
was definitely the best thing she'd ever felt. Her buns were a little rough, the skin thickening from the spanking. She hadn't been using the lotion, the thought leading to what she was going to do that day after getting home, her fingers gently washing her labia, testing how sore they were. They were tender, but not as bad as Sunday after the ceremony. The butt plug pushed its way into her thoughts which led to being spread open on the table for Cos to spank her. Her fingers felt what her body was telling her, slickening from the images. Looking up to confirm she was still alone, she turned to face the spray, spreading her lips to let it irrigate her. She stopped before it got out of control, finishing up and throwing on her clothes.
Naomi's car was still there, along with Jamie's and Steph's. Combined with the construction crew, it looked like a party was going on. She raced upstairs to see what everyone was doing.
"Hey! You guys got here early."
Steph looked up, nodding. "Yep. Have to go a little later. Didn't we talk about not wanting to leave this stuff out for the party?"
Em nodded, squeezing past the two of them to hang her suit in the shower. The butt plug practically screamed to her from the drawer. "I'll be out in a sec to put the shelves up. It didn't hold you up any did it?" She closed the door, shimmying her shorts and underwear to the floor.
"Nah. We're still trying to figure out the dates on these pamphlets." Steph's voice was muffled. "They were totally mixed up."
Em took the plug out of the drawer and realized she didn't have the lube. Thinking about where it was, she squeaked, remembering Cos had left it with the box of plugs, and everything was in The Study, just sitting on the table! Quickly grabbing the plug, but leaving the pompom, she tugged her clothes back up and scooted out of the bathroom to her bedroom. "I'll be right there!"
And through the closet entrance into The Study, into Complicit's embrace, and to the table. The fragrance took over, changing her intentions. She had taken out the lube, but now stopped, setting it down. She slipped her shorts and panties down, glancing at the door, picked up the tube, put a glob on the plug, and set the tube down. Using her right hand she pulled her right cheek away from the left and maneuvered the plug against her ring, the gel cool and threatening to slide down. She tipped the point up and pushed against her hole feeling it slide in, her sphincter reacting to keep the invader out. She pushed harder, constantly checking the closet entrance, the fear of being caught sending pulses of shame into the tendril. She pushed her anus out, the cone stretched her opening, widening until it clenched over the top and slid down to stop against the stem, pulling the plug into her. She looked up at a noise, and quickly pulled up her clothes, slipping her hand inside her shorts to wipe her fingers on her underwear; she pushed against the flat plate until it was firmly seated against her opening. Finally she collected the box and the lube and exited back into her bedroom. It had taken a minute, two at most.
She had finished shoving it under her bed, just as Naomi walked past. "What's all the commotion?" Her bikini briefs and a short t-shirt barely concealed her body, calling attention to her breasts and bottom.
"An entire day has already passed, N." Em met her at the door, heading back to the bookcase, her heart thumping. "You know where the coffee is, but," she paused staring back over her shoulder. "There's three guys down there. Not sure you'd survive dressed...er...undressed like that."
Naomi screwed up her face and turned into the bathroom.
"So, I think the job is done," Em confided, her heart still hammering. She could still smell Complicit and realized she'd left the closet door open. She looked over at Steph, concerned.
"Hey," Jamie looked up. "You okay? You look a little jumpy. What job?"
Em waved at the bookcase and The Study, carefully picking up the top shelf to unscrew a clamp. She shrugged. "I'm not sure why I even mentioned it. It's not like you guys even knew it was going on." She laughed quick and sharp. "It's just...this deal I made with Cos. It's been..." she didn't know how to describe what it had been. "It's been the weirdest best thing that's ever happened to me." She looked at the shelf edge to see if it had come out okay, happy to see she hadn't fucked it up. "And now...now I don't know what's about to happen, but it's changing." She reached up to slide the shelf onto the posts about 10 inches from the top. She'd need a chair to lock the pins in, and then reconsidered, figuring she didn't need them up there at all.
"Changing?" Jamie was interested.
Em sighed, not sure she could explain it or even if she wanted to. "Yeah. I got what he agreed to, and now...he's expecting a little more from me than I figured." She looked at where the next set of shelf pegs were and decided to rearrange them, pulling them out of their holes.
"Because you're his...servant-cunt?" Jamie said the words softly, because she didn't use words like that, ever. But her tone was direct and unembarrassed; the question itself wasn't a problem, as if it was a perfectly normal thing to ask.
Em just shook her head and almost laughed.
Who asks questions like that?
But Jamie was a clean slate, innocent and sincere. And Emily almost laughed again.
As if you're some wise old woman who's got years of experience.
But, she realized, she had gained experience. A lot of experience in no time at all. "Yeah," she exhaled. "That's it in one." She didn't bother to look over at Steph; she imagined Steph was looking up from her pamphlets ready to dish snark.
"I think we're close, Em." Steph piped up. "There's several issues missing - maybe they never got published or just didn't get saved or whatevs. Anyway, they're in order," she paused, looking inside the first one, "about every month from January 1891 to March, 1895."
"There are inscriptions in some of them," Jamie continued, "but it's random. The first year only one?" She looked over at Steph who consulted her notes. "And four in 1894?" Steph nodded.
"Yeah, no pattern," Steph said. "My guess is that she was focusing on specific women in the community for some reason, romance might have been one of them."
"Mmm hmmm," Jamie agreed. "There were seven sketches in this sketchbook and we found all seven in the pamphlets, always later than the dates in the sketchbook. Maybe there's more in the cabinet? Because there were 15? 16? inscriptions?"
Steph shook her head. "16. Yeah."
"Very cool," Em's eyes lit up. She had stopped with the shelves, looking over at them. Naomi came out of the bathroom, hair tousled, her underwear barely covering her. "Did you hear any of that N? Abby had quite a thing going with her friends."
Naomi looked over at them, bleary eyed, shaking her head. "I didn't hear a fucking thing. Let me get some coffee and then maybe I can focus on whatever the fuck you're going on about." She turned back to the bedroom to throw on her clothes.
Steph threw a questioning glance at Em.
"It's complicated. She needed to sleep over last night. Oh! No." Emily realized what Steph was really asking. "She says she's not feeling anything from Complicit."
But there's still time. Caroline and you got it two days later.
They locked eyes, nodding slightly.
"So, yeah!" Jamie was excited. "This
is
cool. I really think they should be displayed to show the cross-referencing, right?" She looked between the others, to see if anyone had other ideas.
Em and Steph both nodded, but hesitantly. "I guess we could show the sketchbook open with a pamphlet standing behind it, the two pages showing?"
"Or, like you suggested yesterday, make photocopies and put them together."
Em nodded but thought it might look hokey. "Maybe if they were mounted together in one frame...?" She looked at the bookcase and knew there wouldn't be enough space for that.
"How about," Steph had rolled up from the floor and walked over to the bookcase, "we feature the sketchbook open in the center of the shelf, displaying Maribel or Ruby or whomever, with its pamphlet open directly behind it, and the other women's dedicated pamphlets on the same shelf, off to the side..."
"In chronological order to the one that's open...!" Jamie finished Steph's thought. "Like, show the one in the middle of the series, and put the later ones to the right, the earlier ones to the left." She was getting excited.