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A Year Older update
🕑 Added 2021-02-24 17:00:04 +0000 UTCSteam was roiling out of the shower now, peppering the room with its muggy heat. Peter took Mary Jane’s hand as he stood up. “Come on, let’s get you nice and clean for breakfast with Felicia. It’s not every day you get your old rival to cook eggs for you.”
“You better not like eggs,” Mary Jane told him, so serious it made him laugh.
That, at least, Slave Bitch Felicia couldn’t do.
***
Felicia made Peter breakfast. It seemed so right to be doing things for him. As she put his plate in front of him, she reached down and ran her fingers over his prick. It stirred to life immediately, telling Felicia she still had his favor. He might reward her at any moment if she continued being obedient—her time as Slave Felicia was stretching on and on deliciously, the anticipation of their threesome continuing just about more than Felicia could stand. It was almost torture, which just meant Felicia got off on it.
“Sir, could I take a shower and put some clothes on? I’ll wear something you like, I promise.”
Peter reached up to cup Felicia’s beautiful face. He pulled her down to him and kissed her. She nearly passed out. She’d wanted this from him for so long and Slave Felicia was getting it.
He sent her on her way to the bathroom with a slap on the ass. Felicia was panting with desire as she walked off.
After the shower, Felicia looked at herself in the mirror. She always liked the way she looked, so why was it that as Slave Felicia, she felt such a warm glow—seeing herself as so perfect, so desirable? Even the reddened glow of her punished ass looked good.
Her breasts stuck out with an arrogant firmness, demanding caresses. They were tits that deserved to have cum shot all over them. Her tight, curvy buttocks moved with a new confidence—her long, sculpted legs strutted as she came out of the bathroom, wringing her hair out. She left it a little wet, long silver tresses running down her shoulders in rivers of shining light. Then she went to her overnight bag. She always packed a little something for Round 2 in the morning.
Felicia put on a simple black nightie that just reached the black silk stockings she pulled over her slender legs. Tiny buttons held the slip together down to the waist; Peter could get through it instantly if he wanted to. And just to add a note—a vague miasma—of unattainability, she put on a tiny black thong and five inch heels, completing a picture of delicious decadence. She applied make-up quickly, already breathing hard with the thought of presenting herself to Peter like this.
When she got back to the kitchen, Mary Jane was there, speaking angrily. Felicia was prepared for combat when she realized MJ wasn’t talking about her—that was actually disappointing. Sleeping with someone’s husband almost seemed passé when they didn’t get jealous over it.
“And now I have to audition! Me! For the same role I played in the last movie! It’s that or I take a pay cut, like that’s not total bullshit, since the girl Emilio said they wanted to replace me with? They would pay her half again as much! And they already did some test shots of me with a wig that looks like hers, so if they tell me to dye my hair to look like that twat—it’s like they’re trying to get me to quit! Is that what they’re trying to do? Would that save them money if I just fucked off in a huff? Shit, I need to talk to my agent about this…”
Felicia walked over to Peter, leaning alluringly against one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Does this please you, master?” she asked, showing herself off for him, sliding the hem of her slip up so that he could see her creamy thighs above her stockings.
Peter chuckled and ran his fingers over Felicia’s thighs, caressing her, pushing the hem up still further until he was at the silk of her panties. He plucked the crotch of them like a guitar string. “You look incredible, Cat. You’re being a very good girl right now and I do appreciate it.”
Mary Jane threw her hands up. “Goddamnit, Peter, can you focus?”
She stalked over to the coffee machine. Felicia ignored her, beaming her gratitude at Peter’s approval back to him.
“Anything for you, sir,” she said, shaking with desire. “I came here to please you.”
Even the way Mary Jane poured her coffee simmered with anger. “You couldn’t pick a better time to make your grand entrance?” she demanded of Felicia. “I’d throw your ass out on the street wearing that porn star get-up, only I feel bad enough about calling Amelia a twat.”
“Amelia?” Felicia asked Peter.
“The other woman. Actress,” Peter explained. “Wants Mary Jane’s job. And she is a twat.”
“Want me to steal something from her?” Felicia offered.
“Her talent, if you can find it,” Mary Jane snapped. “No, don’t encourage me, I’m trying to be my best self.”
She took a hearty drink from her coffee mug.
“Your best self is very caffeinated,” Peter observed.
Mary Jane swallowed. “Don’t banter with me in front of Felicia. You’ll give her ideas.”
“Like?”
“Like she’s included in me bitching about my bullshit line of work. That’s our thing. It’s intimate.”
“You don’t tweet about it?” Felicia asked.
“You follow me on Twitter?”
They stared at each other, neither willing to give much ground.
Peter slipped between them to get to the coffee machine. “MJ, I was focusing. And not to get in the way of a good rant, but you should talk to your agent. I’m sure he could give you much better advice than I could. I don’t want to be the guy who gets you going in the wrong direction and fucks up your career.”
“My career is already fucked up,” Mary Jane moaned. “Haven’t you been listening? They want to replace me with a reality TV star.”
“Ouch,” Felicia said.
“Not helping, Cat,” Peter told her.
“Sorry. Would you like me to get your coffee for you, master?”
“I’ve got it, thanks,” Peter said as he poured.
“Is this what we’re doing now?” Mary Jane asked, pinballing between her surprise at Felicia’s audacity and her long-simmering resentment at her career’s nonsense. “She’s just going to hang out, being our slave?”
Peter shrugged. “I’m letting it ride for the moment. I figure we can at least let her clean the grout before she takes off.”
Mary Jane blinked. “We can make her do that?”
“Probably. It’d be funny as hell if that’s what makes her safe word, though.” Peter circled around behind Mary Jane, to face Felicia over her shoulder as he put his free hand around his wife. “Hey. I was going to say you might wanna cool down before calling your agent. But, since I know that’s hard for you when you’re this worked up, why don’t you take it out on Felicia?”
“What?” Mary Jane asked in shrill confusion. She couldn’t believe Peter was suggesting what she thought he was suggesting.
Peter stroked her cheek. “Punish her. Spank her, whip her, whatever. Get it out of your system. She’ll enjoy it, you can vent, and we can all get on with our day. Unless you want me to ditch the apartment in a spider-suit and say the X-Men need me for something.”
Mary Jane pried Peter’s hand away from her face. “I knew you were using that as an excuse to get out of fights.”
“Just trying to keep you from saying something you might regret. So how about it? Want Slave Bitch Felicia to be your Slave Bitch?”
Mary Jane looked at her, considering it. How many times had she wanted to claw those balloon boobs of hers until Felicia admitted they were fake, or tug that hair until she found out whether it was a wig or not, or smack that fat ass—just because it was such a nice, fat ass? Now that she actually had license to act on her desires, the prospect seemed strangely erotic.
“Would she… mind?”
Peter gave Felicia a look. “Not if she knows what’s good for her.”
“I do, sir,” Felicia simpered. “I know being a dirty little whore for you is what’s good for me. I’ll fuck whoever you want me to fuck—I’ll be as big a slut as you let me be. Just promise to let me have your cum when you join in.”
“Jesus,” Mary Jane sighed. “How can she go from wearing leather and riding motorcycles to… Handmaid’s Tale cosplay?”
“Don’t know—but remember when we babysat your niece that one weekend? What we did once she went home and you were done being all maternal?”
Mary Jane actually blushed, her ears burning at the memory. As wild as things had gotten with Felicia, the two of them back then had put the three of them now to shame. “That’s different. I was thinking of… you know… starting a family.”
“Not the way we were doing it.”
Felicia snorted with laughter, breaking character and thankfully showing Mary Jane she wasn’t a BDSM pod person. “And I thought Peter was a pain in the ass when he was trying to put me in jail! Nothing compared to once we started sleeping together…”
Mary Jane’s eyes slashed to Felicia. “If you want me to punish you, Felicia, you’re off to a good start.”
“I’ve seen better,” Peter said. He looked at Felicia, his voice adopting a commanding tone. He didn’t raise it or swear, just grew firm with her. “Cat, assume the position. My wife wants to play with you.”
“Just because it’s your birthday,” Mary Jane insisted. “One last present for you, tiger.” She looked around. “Where’d we put the barbecue tongs?”
