Teasing The Southerners
A dress. A fucking dress.
They wanted me to wear a fucking southern belle type hoopy dress thing with lace and frills and big ass skirts that are just so not me. Now, I'm not big on the skirts in the first… 'cause in my past… it meant easy access for my so called "uncles" and later, rather than sooner unfortunately, I learned the hard lesson of that. But every now and again, when the occasion calls for it, I can dig a slinky black dress or a miniskirt. As long as it's black or leather, I'm down with it.
Yea, I got a fetish with things if the black and shiny variety. Cope.
But, I'm sorry, these kinda dresses are just not workin' for me. I mean, come on now, people! This is the 221st century! What's up with the Civil War antiquity? (Hey look, big word! Red would be wicked proud of me, yo.) I know Red thinks I'm goin' overboard with the freak… but I can't help it! Okay?! I didn't come here to relive some asshole's wet dream fantasy about the southern past. Not like I know shit about it, me bein' the high school drop out and all.
I just… I don't know… something felt weird about this whole damn thing. I knew this island in the desert thing was stretchin' it a little… I just didn't know just how much stretchin' was really comin' into play here. Suck.
But, I'll play along with this dress gig. For now.
And, I was all hunky dory… till little miss touchy hands seamstress started touchin' me in some private places. Now, normally, I'd say, what the fuck ever, who gives a damn, ya know? But, something about the chick just irked me! I didn't want her fuckin' hands all over my goods.
'Sides, they're kind of property of Willow now, and I know she wouldn't be down with some other girl puttin' her hands all over me. Whoa. Since when did I become faithful? Weird.
"Hey!" I protested as I slapped her hands away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Girl looked wicked shocked and stepped away from me. Even Red looked a little on the freaked side at my outburst. "Um, I was just measuring you ma'am. For your dress."
"And what part of measuring has you puttin' your hands all over my tits?"
Willow coughed and seamstress chick looked like she might pass out at my usage of the word "tits". What? You can touch 'em but can't talk about them? And here I thought *I* was screwed up.
"Uh, Faith," Red offered up timidly. "I think maybe Miss… um… miss seamstress lady isn't used to people being so… vulgar? And she has to do that… measurements are for bust, waist, and hips."
"Oh," I muttered, feelin' kinda sheepish about my reaction, but still not very sorry. "Sorry about that. Thought you were tryin' to get a free pass at me."
"I assure you I would never do such a thing!"
"Yea," I smirked, clearly makin' sure she knew I meant the exact opposite of what my words said. "I'm sure you wouldn't." I put my hands up in surrender and smiled. "Well then, go ahead."
"Sure thing," she replied and as quickly as she could, finished measuring me.
You know what I don't get? Why we gotta be fuckin' measured in the first place. I mean, if she wanted my bust size so badly she could've just said hey, "What's your bra size." I wouldn't have been offended. In fact, I give it out freely. I'm kinda proud of it, ya know? But, whatever. Guess we're not capable of knowin' something like that.
When she finished with the measurements she left as we were greeted with Mr. Butler.
"Well, if it isn't Jeeves," I drawled sarcastically while dramatically putting my hand on my heart. "Is it tea time already? Because I think I had about enough excitement for the day. My poor nerves just can't handle all this rough-n-tumble."
Red shot me a look, but I just ignored her. Is it so wrong that I get off on ribbin' people? Now, I'm cool with the friendly act, but only when people show me they're deserving of it. Otherwise, watch the fuck out man, 'cause I'm gonna go all out bitch mode on your ass.
"Actually, no, I just came to check to see if everything was alright in here. I thought I heard a scream."
"Your seamstress got a little too up close and personal for my liking, so I made it known," I mention casually. Hey, maybe I'll get the chick fired. "But hey, turns out it's her job to touch people intimately, so I'm cool. How about you Jeeves?"
"I'm quite alright," he said, and suddenly I'm gettin' a flashback of Giles circa Buffy era. Except this guy was less with the British and moer with the Southern. S till, tweed was all the same. Guy even had some glasses to clean when things got too much for him to handle. "Though, I would appreciate it if you didn't call me Jeeves. My name is Frederick Harrington."
I rolled my eyes and was about to make a snarky comment when Red's icy glare stopped me. Ouch. I wouldn't be getting any loving if I kept this up. So, I slip a little every now and then. They say redemption's a rocky road. Mine's just full of boulders. And right about now? I was hittin' a Yankee Stadium sized one.
"Thank you Mr. Harrington." Red finally said after a long silence among us. Always big on the manners, she is. "We appreciate your concern."
"I would also like to know if you are alright with sharing a bedroom or would you like another? I had assumed you were sisters, but at closer inspection, you really don't appear to be so."
Gee, wonder how he'd take to knowin' we were lovers. Though about it… but nah. Might get kicked out. Heard the South is wicked testy about the same sex loving. Man, they oughtta get hip to the new age. Not everyone is black and white, ya know? There's a whole big gray section to be explored. And who's to say what's right anyway? Fucking pricks.
"Oh, we're definitely not sisters," I tell him with a mischievous glint in my eyes. "We're cousins!" Walked over to red and slung my arm around her shoulder. "Willow here just takes after Mama Rosenberg. While me? I come from her Dad's side. We're all tall dark, and broody. It's genetic."
Jeeves looked me over and seemed perplexed. "You don't seem that tall."
"Hey, I'm average height for a chick my age, alright?" Taller than B ever could hope to be. But, I didn't say that. "So the females get a little cheated on the tall in the fam. Sucks, but I'll live."
He nods, accepting my answer. "So the one bedroom is fine."
"A'Okay Jeeves," I mock salute him. "Now, can we get some privacy here? We'd like to unpack and do some," I shot Will a wicked grin. "Familial bonding."
"Certainly," he bows out. "I will see you for supper then."
Once he left, I burst out laughing. Man, I was havin' way too much time teasin' the pricks. This was gonna be fun… even if I was gonna be stuck in some fucking dress.
"Still love me?" I asked as I spun around to face my blushing girlfriend. "I'm sorry Red, but these guys are easy bait. Can't help myself."
"You're horrible," is all she says. But, in second, she's laughin' it up too. So, I'm guessin' I didn't ruin my chances for some big time loving tonight. Wicked!
They wanted me to wear a fucking southern belle type hoopy dress thing with lace and frills and big ass skirts that are just so not me. Now, I'm not big on the skirts in the first… 'cause in my past… it meant easy access for my so called "uncles" and later, rather than sooner unfortunately, I learned the hard lesson of that. But every now and again, when the occasion calls for it, I can dig a slinky black dress or a miniskirt. As long as it's black or leather, I'm down with it.
Yea, I got a fetish with things if the black and shiny variety. Cope.
But, I'm sorry, these kinda dresses are just not workin' for me. I mean, come on now, people! This is the 221st century! What's up with the Civil War antiquity? (Hey look, big word! Red would be wicked proud of me, yo.) I know Red thinks I'm goin' overboard with the freak… but I can't help it! Okay?! I didn't come here to relive some asshole's wet dream fantasy about the southern past. Not like I know shit about it, me bein' the high school drop out and all.
I just… I don't know… something felt weird about this whole damn thing. I knew this island in the desert thing was stretchin' it a little… I just didn't know just how much stretchin' was really comin' into play here. Suck.
But, I'll play along with this dress gig. For now.
And, I was all hunky dory… till little miss touchy hands seamstress started touchin' me in some private places. Now, normally, I'd say, what the fuck ever, who gives a damn, ya know? But, something about the chick just irked me! I didn't want her fuckin' hands all over my goods.
'Sides, they're kind of property of Willow now, and I know she wouldn't be down with some other girl puttin' her hands all over me. Whoa. Since when did I become faithful? Weird.
"Hey!" I protested as I slapped her hands away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Girl looked wicked shocked and stepped away from me. Even Red looked a little on the freaked side at my outburst. "Um, I was just measuring you ma'am. For your dress."
"And what part of measuring has you puttin' your hands all over my tits?"
Willow coughed and seamstress chick looked like she might pass out at my usage of the word "tits". What? You can touch 'em but can't talk about them? And here I thought *I* was screwed up.
"Uh, Faith," Red offered up timidly. "I think maybe Miss… um… miss seamstress lady isn't used to people being so… vulgar? And she has to do that… measurements are for bust, waist, and hips."
"Oh," I muttered, feelin' kinda sheepish about my reaction, but still not very sorry. "Sorry about that. Thought you were tryin' to get a free pass at me."
"I assure you I would never do such a thing!"
"Yea," I smirked, clearly makin' sure she knew I meant the exact opposite of what my words said. "I'm sure you wouldn't." I put my hands up in surrender and smiled. "Well then, go ahead."
"Sure thing," she replied and as quickly as she could, finished measuring me.
You know what I don't get? Why we gotta be fuckin' measured in the first place. I mean, if she wanted my bust size so badly she could've just said hey, "What's your bra size." I wouldn't have been offended. In fact, I give it out freely. I'm kinda proud of it, ya know? But, whatever. Guess we're not capable of knowin' something like that.
When she finished with the measurements she left as we were greeted with Mr. Butler.
"Well, if it isn't Jeeves," I drawled sarcastically while dramatically putting my hand on my heart. "Is it tea time already? Because I think I had about enough excitement for the day. My poor nerves just can't handle all this rough-n-tumble."
Red shot me a look, but I just ignored her. Is it so wrong that I get off on ribbin' people? Now, I'm cool with the friendly act, but only when people show me they're deserving of it. Otherwise, watch the fuck out man, 'cause I'm gonna go all out bitch mode on your ass.
"Actually, no, I just came to check to see if everything was alright in here. I thought I heard a scream."
"Your seamstress got a little too up close and personal for my liking, so I made it known," I mention casually. Hey, maybe I'll get the chick fired. "But hey, turns out it's her job to touch people intimately, so I'm cool. How about you Jeeves?"
"I'm quite alright," he said, and suddenly I'm gettin' a flashback of Giles circa Buffy era. Except this guy was less with the British and moer with the Southern. S till, tweed was all the same. Guy even had some glasses to clean when things got too much for him to handle. "Though, I would appreciate it if you didn't call me Jeeves. My name is Frederick Harrington."
I rolled my eyes and was about to make a snarky comment when Red's icy glare stopped me. Ouch. I wouldn't be getting any loving if I kept this up. So, I slip a little every now and then. They say redemption's a rocky road. Mine's just full of boulders. And right about now? I was hittin' a Yankee Stadium sized one.
"Thank you Mr. Harrington." Red finally said after a long silence among us. Always big on the manners, she is. "We appreciate your concern."
"I would also like to know if you are alright with sharing a bedroom or would you like another? I had assumed you were sisters, but at closer inspection, you really don't appear to be so."
Gee, wonder how he'd take to knowin' we were lovers. Though about it… but nah. Might get kicked out. Heard the South is wicked testy about the same sex loving. Man, they oughtta get hip to the new age. Not everyone is black and white, ya know? There's a whole big gray section to be explored. And who's to say what's right anyway? Fucking pricks.
"Oh, we're definitely not sisters," I tell him with a mischievous glint in my eyes. "We're cousins!" Walked over to red and slung my arm around her shoulder. "Willow here just takes after Mama Rosenberg. While me? I come from her Dad's side. We're all tall dark, and broody. It's genetic."
Jeeves looked me over and seemed perplexed. "You don't seem that tall."
"Hey, I'm average height for a chick my age, alright?" Taller than B ever could hope to be. But, I didn't say that. "So the females get a little cheated on the tall in the fam. Sucks, but I'll live."
He nods, accepting my answer. "So the one bedroom is fine."
"A'Okay Jeeves," I mock salute him. "Now, can we get some privacy here? We'd like to unpack and do some," I shot Will a wicked grin. "Familial bonding."
"Certainly," he bows out. "I will see you for supper then."
Once he left, I burst out laughing. Man, I was havin' way too much time teasin' the pricks. This was gonna be fun… even if I was gonna be stuck in some fucking dress.
"Still love me?" I asked as I spun around to face my blushing girlfriend. "I'm sorry Red, but these guys are easy bait. Can't help myself."
"You're horrible," is all she says. But, in second, she's laughin' it up too. So, I'm guessin' I didn't ruin my chances for some big time loving tonight. Wicked!