When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Seventy-Six - Back To Playing Form

SEVENTY-SIX

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No one sees Catherine exit the secret room, since the hallway that connects the ballroom to the food area is empty. Relieved to find herself undetected, she quickly commands her feet to take her towards the door that will return her to the grand room. Just a few steps into this brief journey, however, a voice grabs her attention once more, despite her current wish for quiet, for a ban on all voices.

“It used to be that, if a woman knew where her man was all the time, he’d have little chance to meet someone to cheat with. But now, with online services that are designed for people who want to cheat -- that is, for the men who do the cheating and for the single, backstabbing bitches who do the cheating with those men -- a man can set up a getaway right from his computer, and tell his wife that he’s going on a business trip. I would never marry a man who goes on business trips. With video calling and all that now, why do people even need to travel anymore anyway, for business?

The more money a man has, the more trouble he is, so girls should grow up dreaming of marrying the garbage man, the bus driver, the Fed Ex guy, because it’s not worth it, to have all that money, when it means that your emotional life is a sham. As long as a guy can maintain a roof over his family’s heads, food and necessities, and a little entertainment money leeway for all of them, if he’s a good guy, then he’s perfect for my daughters. Trust me: the more money a man has, the longer his leash is, and that just gets everyone in his family tangled up, and, eventually, choked. So, learn to want less, materialistically, and you’ll have so much more,” Catherine hears, before she realizes that she herself has once more became entangled with a non-refundable’s eyes, as she walked by the second coatroom.

Why am I still doing this, associating words to them? She angrily asks herself, before shaking her head and looking away. I’m going back.

“Why even cheat, when men can easily divorce, and it’s no big deal, and they’re protected by a pre-nup, and they get joint custody, at least?” Catherine, however, nevertheless hears, even if she is looking straight ahead of her, down the hallway. She frowns deeply as her feet stop their forward progress and her mind attempts to deal with the confusion of why the words are still coming to her mind. “Because they love, LOVE to treat a woman like crap, to lie to her, to hurt her. It makes intimacy with another woman so much better, the hiding, the secret, the hurting the wife. Hey, you. I’m talking to you,” the somewhat drowsy voice adds.

Catherine exhales audibly before she turns back towards the coatroom and then takes the necessary steps to reach it again. She then lines herself up with its opened door, in order to look into the room once again.

“But isn’t it so much easier to say ‘screw it all. I’m screwing whoever I want, and whatever? Screw all the rules and morals and all of it? Life’s too short?’” Another non-refundable counters. Her eyes then look up and spook Catherine, who, after spending so much time in the first coatroom walking by the perfectly restrained non-refundables there, now feels as if she has seen a ghost, witnessing this “return to life” caused by the wearing off of the drug that the women were given. Since the sleep cycle nears its end, the non-refundables must of course once again be available for use by the masters, but Catherine allows her first reaction to guide her, and therefore quickly turns away, before once more heading towards the door at the end of the hallway.