Are You Tiffani Caine?

Author's Introduction:

This work in its entirety is dedicated to KF, whose life was brutally unfair and far too short. I will always remember you, always love you, and always miss you. Rest now, my brother. You've earned your peace.

This is the fifth chapter in an ongoing series. I expect each chapter to vary in themes, fetishes, and even category, and for that reason I intend to state at the beginning of each chapter what readers can expect to see. So, here goes:

Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 4

deals with non-consensual elements (blackmail, non-violent coercion), vaginal sex, anal sex, group sex (MMM/F), lesbianism, explicit descriptions of meals, struggles with religious faith (Christianity), exhibitionism, family dysfunction, and prostitution.

Some people seem to think that I am "cramming my religious faith down their throats" in this story. As an atheist, this would be very difficult for me to do. This is a character study of Sara and how she deals with various events, and since religion is an important part of Sara's life, I discuss it at some length. One of the reasons I started this story was to write from the perspective of a character whom I do not identify with and see how sympathetic I can make her. So if you have problems with the presentation of religion in this story, I couldn't give the smallest particle of a fuck. Read something else.

I welcome feedback, positive or negative. If you want a response, either leave a comment at the end of this story or email me at the address on my profile page.

All fictional characters that I made up in my head as fiction who engage in fictional sex are over 18 fictional years of fictional age fiction fiction fiction.

Up next:

That Damned Blessing, Chapter 5.

Are You Tiffani Caine? Chapter 5

By Senor Smut

I wish I was the moon tonight

- Neko Case

Friday, June 17

For the first time in seven years, Sara had masturbated. She had gone through a hell of a day that had seen her quit her job with no safety net in place, something that she had celebrated alone in her apartment with delicious food, good movies, and entirely too much wine and tequila. Her religion - her former religion - had always said that masturbation was a sin, but she had been exceedingly horny; it had taken her very little effort to convince herself that her church has been full of nonsense on the self-love front, and after that it had taken her very little time to get herself off with her fingers.

And now here she was, naked from the waist down on her sofa, feeling that all was right with the world, afterglowing and too drunk to stand. She was almost asleep when the phone rang. Unknown number. Usually when that popped up it set off an anxiety attack, but this time it just amused her in a vague, distant sort of way. With her fingers still drifting lazily across her labia, she answered, "Yello."

"Are you Tiffani Caine?" asked the Caller.

"Mmmmm, uh-huh..."

"You sound...happy?"

"Oh, I am! An' do you know how...um...why I'm happy?"

"Do tell."

"OK. So today, you know what I did? I did something, and do you know what it was?"

"Got drunk?"

She giggled as she pushed herself to a sitting position. "OK, OK, OK, I did a few things, and that was one of 'em. But I did somethin' else too. Something waaaaaayyy bigger than gettin' drunk. Do you know what?"

"No. Tell me."

"You don' know? I thought you knew all there know to...um...all...everythin' about me."

"Poof, our mystique is gone."

Sara giggled, then giggled again, then stopped to think about it, then giggled a third time. "I know a shhhhhhhhhhhhhecret."

"If you tell me then we'll both know."

Sara furrowed her brow. "Tell you wha?"

"What you did today."

"Waddid I do today? OH! I massurbayed."

"You what?"

"I mas-sur-bay-ted."

Pause, then, "Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh yeah. Yah. Uh-huh. Gonna do it all th' time now."

"Congratulations. Was that the big news?"

"Yep. No! I did somethin' today, and it was real important. I quit my job."

"Did you now? What made you do that?"

"They were bein' mean to me. Everybody is mean to me. You're mean to me."

"And do you have another job lined up?"

"How come you're always mean to me?"

Pause, then, "How much did you have to drink?"

"Three glasses of rosy wine. Wait...rosaaaay wine. Oh, an'..." She had lost track of how many shots she'd taken, so she held her hand out to the bottle on her coffee table with her thumb where the liquid level was now and her ring finger where it had started. Her fingers were pretty far apart, and she held them up to the mouthpiece of her phone. "An' this much te...keeelaaaah."

"We're on a phone call, Tiffani. I couldn't see that."

"Oh. Oh yeah!" She burst into a gale of laughter because not being seen was

hilarious.

"We'll just assume you had a lot of tequila."

"Tequila," she agreed with a solemn nod of her head. "How come you hate me?"

"We don't hate you."

"But...but...how come you don' like me? I do...everythin' you tell me to do an' I do it. An' I do it. I even put on a plant...no...bugged...bugged a plant for you, an' you still don' like me." Her voice caught as tears started to flow. "Why don' you like me?"

"What makes you think we don't like you?"

"B-b-becuz you're always MEAN to me!" she managed to sob as she toppled over onto her side on the sofa. "I don' wan' people to be mean to me anymore! I'm t-t-t...SICK of it!"

"Where are you right now. Tiffani?"

"Why do you wan' know? So you can be mean to me some more?"

"I'm worried about your safety."

"But you hate me!" she wailed.

"We don't hate you. Are you in bed?"

"I can't go to bed, iss too far away!"

"Are you in your apartment?"

"Yes! And I'm alone! Why isn't Isaac here?"

"You broke up with him."

Sara wailed as the painful memory hit her again. She loved him so much! Why had she been such an idiot?

"You really shouldn't drink anymore tonight."

She cried for almost a minute, then sniffled and said, "Bottle's too far away anyway."

"Good. Maybe you should get some sleep."

"I wanna watch another movie. Spider-Man..."

"Spider-Man can wait."

Sara did not answer, because Sara had passed out cold.

Saturday, June 18 - Tuesday, June 21

Sara's mouth tasted like the bottom of a restaurant dumpster. Her head hurt in ways she had never imagined it could hurt. Her throat felt swollen and parched. Something smelled awful. With effort she forced her gummy eyes open, and immediately winced at the bright summer sunshine that was pouring through the window.

"What the heck," she managed to mutter, even though her words came out in too much of a croaky rasp for even her to understand them. What had she done?

She was still lying as she had fallen, on her side in the sofa, but she had only the vaguest memories of most of the night before. There were movies, food, turtle cake, and -

Tequila. Her eyes found the bottle and she gasped in horror at how little liquid there was left in it. No wonder she felt like she'd been hit by a tank.

She had to get moving, if for no other reason than to get this taste out of her mouth. She shoved herself into a sitting position, the phone she'd slept on falling off her face, hitting her shoulder, and bouncing to the floor as she did so.

Right in front of where her mouth had been, vomit was busily staining the sofa she liked so much. Well, that explained the taste and the smell.

How long had she slept? She glanced at her watch, only to realize she had taken it off before starting her binge. Where was her phone? It took her several bleary moments of looking before she spotted where it had fallen, and she picked it up to check the time.

TWELVE FORTY-SEVEN?

She hadn't slept that late since...well, ever, because she was an early bird. The day was half over already!

And she had missed her date with Jacey. Cursing herself, she quickly checked and indeed found a series of texts from her, the first couple asking her whereabouts and then next few asking if she was OK. Ugh, she'd made a mess of it. Quickly she sent a message:

Hey sorry

I quit my job yday and partied way 2 hard

I passed out & just woke up

Barely a minute passed before an answer came:

damn girl gud 4 u! Bout time u lft

and don't worry, just glad ur safe

we can do next strdy

Thanks

How do u cure a hangover

hair of the dog

?

more booze!

(three laughing emojis)

Ugh no I'll never drink again

then lots of sports drink & as much greasy diner food as u can stomach

I almost

(puking emoji)

just thinking of that

trust me

cure 4 what ails u

I'll try it I guess

let me no how it goes

She got up, rinsed her mouth out four times, gargled with salt water twice, slammed 32 ounces of lemon-lime Gatorade, and cleaned up the vomit as best she could. A shower followed (her legs and pubic area could have used a shave - she felt incipient stubble there - but she couldn't summon up the energy to care).

An hour later, sitting in the shaded rear patio of a nearby diner and surrounded by the wreckage of a fried food-intensive meal, she had to admit that Jacey had been onto something. She did feel better, good enough anyway to text her and tell her that she was right, and then check her contacts to see what had happened while she was busy lushing it up. Nothing important on her socials, her parents hadn't contacted her via email, and her phone log showed a late-night call from her tormentor.

FUCK!

She didn't remember that at all. If he had given her orders to do something this morning and she had forgotten, this could get really ugly. She quickly paid and began hurrying on the four-block walk back home, and she made the call as she walked.

"Hello," answered the disguised voice. "Who is this?"

"Sara - Tiffani. Tiffani Caine."

"I must say you sound much steadier than you did last night. Apparently you didn't die of alcohol poisoning."

"You know I got drunk?"

"It was difficult to miss. You don't handle your liquor well."

"It...makes me a different person."

"In vino veritas."

"What?"

"Alcohol reveals our true selves."

"Yeah? Then what kind of person am I?"

"In turns horny, goofy, confrontational, and weepy."

"Huh."

"And you masturbated last night."

"Are you sure?"

"You were very proud of it and said you'd do it all the time now."

Obviously he was lying to fuck with her by telling her she did something she would never do. "Did you tell me to do something this morning? Because if you did, I missed it."

"No, nothing. Don't worry."

Sara gave an audible sigh of relief and her stress ratcheted itself down two or three notches. "I didn't wake up until almost one, so I'm glad you didn't have orders for me."

"We were going to give you some, but your state meant that you obviously weren't going to remember anything we told you, so we thought we'd wait until today."

"Uhhh...thanks, I guess."

"So you quit your job. Do you have something else lined up?"

They knew that? Well of course they did, they knew everything about her life. "Not yet, but I'll get hired somewhere soon. I'm not worried."

"How's your financial situation?"

That was a slight sore spot. She'd burned through every penny that Marku had given her and eaten a fair way into her wedding reserve buying a massive new wardrobe and a lot of other unnecessary expenses. Still, there was no urgency, she had money. "I'm fine. I've got more than enough to last until I get work."

"What if that takes you six months?"

"It won't, but if it did then I'd be in a jam. Why, are you ordering me back to hooking?"

"No, not yet, and when we do it won't be so you can make money - that will just be a happy side-effect."

"Happy for you, maybe. I don't want anything to do with it."

"As the Rolling Stones said, you can't always get what you want."

"OK Boomer."

"That's just dismissive, hurtful, and inaccurate."

"Oh no, I feel so bad about hurting my hurting my elderly blackmailer's feelings."

"We really like the scrappy side of you - sorry, the

salty

side, to use a term a callow youth like you would understand. It's much more interesting than your terrified marshmallow persona. How are you feeling this afternoon?"

"I woke up wanting to die. Now I just have a little headache. Things are looking up."

"Good. Ever done any butt stuff?"

"What?"

"Ever have anything shoved up your ass?"

"Just a tongue."

"And how did you enjoy that?"

She had loved it and he probably knew as much, but she wasn't going to give him the pleasure of an admission. "It's fine."

"Good. As a friendly piece of advice, you ought to spend some time getting used to bigger, harder things up there. It will make what's coming much easier and more pleasurable, or at least less painful."

She winced at the thought but she knew better than to complain. "What's my noble quest this time?"

"We'll let you know soon, so you have time to get yourself ready. Goodbye, Tiffani...and we really have come to like you." The line went dead.

Sara stared at her phone with a frown. What was that last part about? Why would she care if the person (or people, since the Caller always used

we

) who was making her life hell liked her or not? It's not like it would make of the degradation she suffered any better. Putting her phone back into her purse, she muttered, "Weirdo."

Anal. She'd assumed it would happen eventually. She knew it was something that a lot of guys wanted and even expected, including Christian guys (she had even intended to have a conversation with Isaac about whether he would want it). She had never had any real desire to explore it because it always sounded uncomfortable and icky, but the other Musketrixes seemed to enjoy it (particularly Kait, who said she wanted anal more often than vaginal). It wasn't that big a deal. It wasn't even degrading per se, except that she was being forced to do it. She could hack it.

Back home, a quick Google search and some reading told her that her next stop was another place she'd never thought she'd go to: a sex shop. Her Bucket List of Unwanted Destinations was getting a lot of check marks these days.

Yelp steered her to a store just half a block from the place where she'd gotten her hair cut a few days before. She had expected the place to be a dingy, seedy hole with sticky floors, but in the event it reminded her of nothing so much as a store of a major phone company, open and airy, products displayed brazenly but as tastefully as such things could be, and helpful and friendly staff who weren't creepy at all. She barely stammered her need before she was taken on a whirlwind tour of all things buttfucking. It was oddly comforting, given that the young lady who helped her had personally tried everything she recommended, loved taking it up the chute, and was just about the friendliest little thing Sara had met in ages. She walked out feeling a little overwhelmed but carrying a set of three buttplugs, anal beads, an anal douche, butt-friendly lube, and some explicit verbal and written directions on how to use all of it, as well as a 7.5" vaginal dildo that she had allowed herself to be talked into buying even though she didn't plan to masturbate. It had also been an excellent place to stock up on the lubes and condoms she'd need when the Caller's threats to send her back to the escort agency came to fruition.

The area was a great one for food and shopping, so she ate at a Thai-Nigerian fusion place, picked up a cute silver charm bracelet to help round out her accessories collection, and investigated a popular used book store she had never gotten around to going into before.

Once back home, she decided to get to the butt training right away. The Caller had told her she had time to prepare, but that might have meant until tomorrow afternoon for all she knew, so she needed to get busy. She washed everything that would be going inside her, gave herself an anal douche (it gave her flashbacks to her last OB/GYN exam), then got to work with the toys.

The beads were less intimidating, so that was where she started. She remembered all the warnings she had ever heard about making sure to use copious amounts of lube, and between that and some yoga breathing techniques she took the red plastic string of ten beads pretty easily three times. Removing them the first two times gave her some small amount of pleasure, but for the most part, the sensation was odd and a little uncomfortable more than erotic.

Her dinner with her family was tense, as she expected. Chuck was there, which only added to the fraught nature of the event, but he was being relatively well-behaved; given that she had abandoned her fiance, her job, and her church, he found little to target her about - he even said her new 'do looked better than her old one. Most of his sparring was directed toward his parents.

As they finished dessert (fresh-baked key lime pie, delicious as usual), her mom and dad asked all the kids to stay at the table to discuss something of great importance. Absolutely nobody was surprised when they dropped the divorce bomb, but Sara, Danielle, and Nicky all acted shocked (Chuck didn't bother, commenting that it was "about fucking time this miserable shitshow was brought to a close," his dad was "an asshole for cheating with the girl at work," and his mom was "a slut for cheating with a married man, destroying his marriage, and having his baby."). Chuck left the house before the dessert dishes were cleared.

She talked to her mom in the kitchen while the two of them washed dishes. Her mom was defensive even though Sara was not accusatory in her questioning, and she quickly enough shut things down with, "I don't expect you to understand, but I do expect you to respect your new step-father and love the first of your new siblings."

"You're planning on having more?" Sara asked, her first real surprise of the evening.

"We're not planning," her mother said. "We're not using protection either, so what happens, happens."

"I'm surprised you wanted more kids," Sara said in as neutral a tone as she could manage. Her mother had never liked the five kids she'd had with Sara's dad; she'd been dutiful in seeing to their needs but there had been little of the genuine affection they'd all received from their father.

"I never loved your father, not really. I want to see what it's like to have a baby with a man I do love. I want to see whether it will make a difference, or if I'm just a bad mother."

It was more candor than her mother had shown...well, ever, and it took Sara by surprise. It was a moment before she could answer, "I never thought you were a bad mother. I just thought you didn't enjoy it. I'm glad you had all five of us, but I never understood why you kept making more."

Her mother made a sound that was half-grunt, half humorless laugh. "Because we had you and Frank," she said, referring to Sara's brother who was studying in New York City. "Your father and I weren't necessarily happy with each other when you were babies, but we got along better. Things started to get bad when you got old-enough for preschool, so we had Danielle and Chuck. It didn't work."

"What about Nicky?"

Her mom paused, hands motionless in the dishwater, and collected herself for a moment. "I'm going to tell you something because you're the oldest and because I think you can keep a secret, but

it is

a secret. Will you keep it?"