You finally understand what Tessa meant when she said “reunite”. She could have kept the copy of your skin, but she gave even that to you.
She wants you to be the one and only Rachel there will ever be.
But you aren’t the same Rachel as before. The old you would quiver at knowing she worked as a glorified slut, receiving orders from a cruel mistress madly in love with you. To know that, despite all your efforts, she had her way with you – in many ways than one.
The new you, however, enjoys the opportunity that your mistress has given you. And you know the term has a nefarious meaning – subservience to her – but you embrace it out of respect. She is not a mistress because she owns you – even if she does, one way or another. She’s a mistress because she has earned it. You’ve heard others use the term donna - “lady”, essentially – but there is a depth to that term that the Italian one cannot express.
A depth that you freely express as you question your future. “Now what, mistress?”
“Rachel, my dear... Will you do something for me?”
“Sure. I mean, that was what I was asking, no?”
“It’s not related to that, sweetheart. Or... maybe it does. I like that you call me ‘mistress’, but it feels as if I own you. Could you refrain from using it?”
That shocks you. You say so because of respect – not because of ownership reasons. Why would she ask you this? “Am I offending you?”
“Not in the way you believe, no, but in a different way. Rachel, to call me ‘mistress’ is to treat me as superior to you. Why?”
You feel like expressing everything she has done for you, but you choose the most obvious reason. “Because you’re my boss – my employer, I should say.”
“After all I’ve told you?” She caresses your chin, smiling timidly. “I didn’t remake you because I wanted a dutiful employee. I remade you because I want a partner. From now on, if you want to pursue your old job, you can do so – and I don’t mean what you may be thinking.”
You wonder what she means, but your mind flushes with the details. I wasn’t a slut. I was going to strike it big.
“I don’t think I can return to that gig.”
Tessa holds your hand and grips it firmly. “Perhaps that opportunity is gone, my dear, but that doesn’t mean you can retake your dreams. You can always start slow – with your guitar, with your lovely voice, seeking your fortune at bars. That is how I found you, at all.”
It’s a shame you can’t recall that moment. Despite the “reunion”, you’re yet unable to tap into her memories. You could piece out things – the name of the bar, for example – but not the images that come with it. You know you saw her a couple times (more like she accosted you) before she finally cornered you, and you recall she made an advance once – with some wine – but not what she wore, or if she was accompanied.
“It wasn’t the most romantic one,” you point out.
“No. But things can change.”
“I guess. Hopefully I can still return to my old job as waitress.”
“If that’s what you want, I can help you. But you could always dream bigger. How about combining aspects of your other life, my dear? You could make an excellent host for an entertainment show. Or exploit that beauty as a pageant queen.”
“But I don’t have to be a ‘happiness-provider‘ if I don’t want to, right?”
“As I said, Rachel. It’s your life. Live it as you desire.” She moves to her bed and crosses her leg, devouring you with her gaze. “Though there’s one more thing you could be – one that would please me intensely.”
“What would that be, mi- I mean, madam.”
She grins, staring intently at you. “You could always be Mrs. Rachel Wright. My filthy rich, lawfully-wedded wife, able to live her life with my blessing. What do you say?”
Is she for real? Tessa Wright, self-made woman, groveling at your feet?
Your old self would reject her out of disgust. Your other old self would embrace her out of sheer lust.
But this is you now. You know what you can do. “And what if I make myself hard to get? What if I want to make my own fortune before? What if I want my future wife to grovel at my feet?”
She cackles, unfazed by your taunt. “Do remember who made you what you are, Rachel. I made you. But I can also destroy you.”
“And if you destroy me,” you riposte, “you will lose me.” You slowly walk to her, calling upon the lessons of seduction of the other Five, knowing how to exploit her vulnerability. You caress her tightly-packed bun of hair while lifting her chin with your breasts and coo her. “Can’t we make our relationship a little game? I feel you’ll appreciate it more if you earn me.”
She grins, fully satisfied. “Just note that perhaps I may find someone greater than you. Don’t lose what you have in hand for what you dream to have.”
“I think I can tell you this myself.”
“I knew I made the right decision.” She wraps her arms around you, seeing how radiant she looks at seeing you. “I think we can play this game, then. But I want something from you now.”
“What?” you purr.
“A little sign to make my claim.” She then grabs your neck and plants a kiss on your lips, and soon your mouths and tongues engage in a dance.
And as you kiss her, you ponder upon her words. She wants to make me her wife. But she’s madly in love with me. How easy will it be to manipulate her into being my wife?
--
You step down the stairs in a beautiful night dress Tessa kept within her belongings, holding her hand. You clamp your pumps into each stair, calling for everyone’s attention. You don’t mind if this was the dress she wore when living her dreams of being you – now it is your dress, and you wear it the way you want.
You clench your grip on Tessa’s hand as you see Ashley mindlessly looking at the newspaper, and grin as you see Cassie checking her phone. Their expressions of disdain and delight are obvious as they see you, triumphant, under their mother’s wing.
“Hold on,” the youngest of the Wrights says as she approaches you. “Bestie?”
“Yes, bestie.” You hug her, and you feel her groping that big, tight ass of yours. “Happy to see me?”
“Dude! You hit the jackpot!”
“Don’t forget you’re being tested,” Ashley comments, trying to belittle you.
“Dear, she’s not my daughter. She’s got nothing to test me.”
“Good.” You can see it in her expression – she's livid that you earned this victory. “Enjoy this little victory while it lasts. The quicker you get out of our sight, the better.”
“But you,” Tessa clarifies, “still are. Mind your tongue, dear – you still don’t know what the future brings.” Interposing between the two of you, she grabs your arms and relaxes. “Rachel, you’re welcome in my house at any time. And I hope I can be your guest as well.”
“Thank you, madam.”
“How many times I should tell you?” she exclaims in an amused tone. “First name basis, my dear. Nothing as stuffy as ‘mistress’ or ‘madam’ or ‘my lady’; I would love if you could call me Tessa, like the friends we are.” Then, she leans closer, and you can see from the corner of your eye how her face twists into a delighted smirk. “Or ‘Tess’, when we’re in private.”
“How about ‘my goddess’ when we’re in bed?”
You look at Ashley’s expression as her mother explodes with glee at your proposal. “You minx! You know how to twist my buttons, don’t you?”
“Mother, I’ll come in when you’re available.” You hold your grin as you see Ashley’s vitriol dripping from her voice. “It seems you’re occupied.”
“Sure, dear. Maybe we can discuss what gnaws you.”
“It’s alright,” she claims, but you know she’s seething. “It’s... business.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you once I finish entertaining my guest.”
You finally grin as Ashley turns her back on you, savoring how Tessa sent her away like a pawn. Yet, no one seems happier about that than Cassie, who swallows your arm with her body and refuses to let it go. “Oh my God, bestie! I love how you look!”
“Thanks!” You flick a strand of hair behind your back to have mother and daughter in the same sight. “Madam, I know you don’t want me to call you this, but I want to thank you for this opportunity.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure! You know our deal, of course.”
“Yes. And you’re definitely welcome in my house – Cassie and you, that is. I don’t think Leah will mind, of course.”
“Speaking of Leah and stuff...” Cassie twirls her hair while staying close. “Is it gonna be the same deal as before? Half price for her?”
“I don’t know,” Tessa exclaims. “Will you ask her for payment?”
You turn to Cassie, who up until now was – and still is – your only friend. You chuckle, giving her a wide smile. “I can’t accept payment from a friend. But you know what that means, no?”
“If it’s my daughter, I don’t mind.”
“Then I think it’s settled. Your mother doesn’t mind if we’re friends with benefits, Cassie.”
“Call me ‘Cass’! Say, you don’t mind if I call you ‘Rach’ just like Leah does?”
You kiss her on the forehead, smirking. “Only my friends call me ‘Rach’. Even the ones with benefits.”
“Okay, ‘Rach’.” You see her turn towards her mother, jerking her head at you. “Mom, can I go live with Rach? That way, I don’t have to bother you--”
“Of course, dear. If she accepts.”
“I think Leah won’t mind. I certainly don’t mind having a new roommate.”
“Will she mind if I spend a couple nights there too?”
Cassie drops you as she gasps, and she almost yelps as she sees you grab Tessa’s hand and rub it seductively. “I don’t think she has a chance, now does she?”
“Get, out!”
“Cassandra, language!”
“No - Mom! I didn’t mean what you think I meant! It’s a good thing! Rach, you gotta help me move – you need to give me the scoop!”
“Sure! But just as a heads-up...” You stare at Tessa and smirk. “If everything works out? I think you’ll have to stop calling me ‘Rach’ and start calling me ‘Mom’.”
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author