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Jo White and the Seven Futas (WIP)
🕑 Added 2022-02-07 18:18:36 +0000 UTCHere's a story I've been working on in the background, thanks to Chloe pestering me about it nonstop. I thought I would put what I have of the intro up to see what y'all thought about it. The basic premise is a woman moving into a household of futas and the hijinks that ensue. What I am hoping with this set up is to use it as a base for a series of short stories. I am hoping to make it episodic in nature though with an overarching story developing along the way. Sort of smut meets sitcom meets slice of life drama.
I do realize the set up is a bit silly and a lot contrived, but as the fairy tale title should tell you that is sorta on purpose. This isn't meant to be the real world but more a bright anime/sitcom version of the real world. Finally, I am a not-so-young guy trying to write a story about a group of young women...expect lots and LOTS of cringy and terrible depictions. Like I said, this is not the real world. LOL
Anyway, let me know what you think of it. Leave a thumbs up if you think this is an idea worth pursuing.
***
I felt like I might actually melt like the tip of a lit birthday candle to become a liquefied puddle of myself on the ashpalt as I step out into the cloying Georgia summer heat. Born and raised in Fairbanks, Alaska I had felt a hot sun in my days but never had I experienced it quite so blazing nor married with such oppressive humidity such as this.
“Oh my Lord!” I fan myself. “Is it always this…?”
Paying me no mind the cab driver already had my suitcases out of the trunk and down on the sidewalk with barely a nod of acknowledgment. He is already back in the driver’s seat, door slammed shut, before I have a chance to finish my sentence or even say thank you. Coughing on exhaust and smoothing out my blue sundress, crumpled from hours of sitting the seats of various cabs and airplanes, I mutter. “Rude.” Prince warned me people would be like this down here.
I step up onto the sidewalk to stand beside my bags and look around the alien neighborhood. Everything was different here; the foliage, the building materials, the layout of the streets, the width and depth of the sidewalks, the architecture, just…everything. The area was an old one with sprawling ancient oaks and sturdy brick houses that certainly predated the whole darned town that I hailed from. You could FEEL the history oozing from every crack and crevice of this city. Though I had only seen it passing by from the window of the taxi I could already tell that Savannah was truly a world apart from my humble home up North. Thankful for the shading boughs of the nearby oak tree I rummage my phone from my pocket to find the address of the place that would hopefully be my home for the next four to five years, assuming I didn’t flunk out of the art and design college I had come all this way to attend, though it was actually more likely they wouldn’t even let me through the door.
“69 Grimm Drive.” I read the form I’d been emailed then start looking about. Directly in front of me is a plain blue house with the number 66 displayed prominently beside the door. “Hmm, other side.” I turn around to look across the narrow street to see…a high stone wall? Peeking over the old wall are the tops of bushes and trees but there is no other clue to what was contained within that space. I look left and right to see the wall ran right around the entire block. To my right, half way down the block, a heavy black wrought iron gate with spikes sticking up from its arched top and fancy flourishes built into it was the only visible entrance. I look to the street sign to ensure I was indeed on the correct lane then back behind me again to read out the numbers, all evens, then back across to the wall. Odd numbers ought to be over there. There must be buildings within that area, some sort of complex or walled community or something? I had to assume so. Thanks to the fraudulent method by which I attained this housing I knew next to nothing about what I was walking into here.
Satchel across my body one way and my purse slung the other the X where they meet presses into my already sweaty cleavage. I hoist my backpack over my shoulders and dragging my big overstuffed rolling suitcase behind me I cross the quiet street and make my way toward the gates. As I near them I see on a black and bronze plaque built into the stone wall a symbol that shoots an arrow through my heart while also confirming that I had indeed found my destination. The symbol was made up of the letters “CS” designed so that the C and the bottom half of the S formed a near perfect circle. It stops me in my tracks. Despite knowing that it was likely that I was going to encounter the emblem of the secret society my deceased mother belonged to, actually seeing it out here in the world dredges up a mucky mixture of deep emotions. Below this symbol in smaller type the address that I was looking for is confirmed.
“I’m really here.” I whisper to myself as the gravity of this moment finally hits home. “I made it.”
Reaching out to touch the sign my heart is filled with wonder and adventure. A rebellious grin plays at my lips as I think about how incensed my wicked aunt Regina would have been after reading the curt letter I had left for her on the kitchen table on my way out the door to the airport yesterday morning. I was an adult now, the days of her running and ruining my life were officially over. I was free! I knew this scheme I was about to try was doomed to failure and that in just a few short minutes I might find myself homeless on the streets of a strange city, but anything would be better than going back to her. More determined than ever I walk forward and turn to look through the bars of the iron gate.
“Woah!”
This couldn’t be right. Within I see a grand columned antebellum mansion with a porch running all the way around the massive building on both of its two stories, the arched windows of an attic level poked out from the slanted gray roof. All around the opulent white manor is a verdant garden of lush green lawn, brightly flowering bushes, and of course that huge oak that had been shielding me from worst of the blazing sun. It was the estate of some old money millionaire, not a girl’s dormitory. This was way, way, WAY too nice for completely free accommodation. There had to be some mistake.
I glance back over to the CS on the plaque. Who were they? Even my more tech savvy boyfriend Prince could only uncover bits and pieces of this shadowy group my mother belonged to. Beyond the fact that it was exclusively for women and that they had a presence in various countries around the world he could find little else. In fact one of the very few tangible things he was able to unearth was an old application form for these lodgings buried deep in the archives of a now defunct website. When I found out it was for a place in Savannah I knew I had to try to get here. Being as young as I was my memories of my parents were foggy at best, but I had a distinct recollection of dancing and crooning along with my father to a cheesy old tune called “Hard Hearted Hannah, the Vamp of Savannah”. In his version though he replaced Hannah for Gina, a jab at his wife’s bitchy sister. Were my mother and aunt from here? The thread was a tenuous one but it was the only one I had.
“Um, hello?” I call softly through the gate. The only sign of a person I spot on the lower porch where I see the bottoms of a pair of boots sticking out between the wide balusters. Whoever those boots belonged to was clearly lying down, possibly sleeping. “Hello!” I say a bit louder, still with no response. Whoever that was I hated to wake them. I give the gate doors a testing push only to find they were locked tight with no obvious latch or knob.
I study the entrance and then to each side, looking for a buzzer or someway to open it, and my eyes settle upon a steel panel built into the wall with a button, a speaker, and a slit that looked an awful like one you’d slide a card into. I approach it. For a moment my finger hovers over button…but I pull it away. Opening my purse I find the item that had started this pilgrimage. I look down at the plastic card in my hand. Along the left side is a nine digit number, a bar code, and the same CS symbol as on the plaque. Along the right side however is what made this my most prized possession, the only photo of my mom that I knew existed. I had found it tucked into the dust cover of a copy of Cinderella, one of only three things that had survived my aunt’s purge after the funerals. Afraid I might lose it but curiosity getting the better of me I slide the card into the slit. Zip!
“No!” I gasp as the card is sucked from my fingers fully into the machine. “No, no, no, no!” I start to pry at the opening in a frantic attempt to retrieve the it. My fears are relieved a moment later when I hear a small bleep followed by the card shooting halfway back out again. I nab my treasured card back out just as a clicking sound emanates from the lock. I push at the heavy old gate, it glides open with ease. “Ha! Thanks Mama.” I kiss the card and tuck it safely away again.
I step through and onto the brick walkway beyond, my rolling suitcase clacking behind me. I am only ten feet through when I startle at the sound of the gates latching closed behind me. I chuckle at my own nervousness and pad closer. I am not even halfway to the steps when the big front door swings open and a tall stout built black woman comes bursting out. Her enormous bosom stretched her apricot tank top and cinched tight above her wide round hips was a vibrant floral skirt. A beaded silver and teal necklace hung round her neck and dangling earrings of the same style swayed at her lobes. Long black crimped hair spilled down over her shoulders. Her face was wide and her features friendly, her large expressive eyes were a stunning shade of caramel brown. She hurries down the stairs with her arms held wide.
“Doc Martens on her weary feet, coming in off the city street, sister wilting in the summer heat, our sorority is at last complete.” She says beat poet style. “You must be Joanna!”
As if I were some long lost friend she was reconnecting with she throws her arms around me and pulls me into an all encompassing hug, my satchel sandwiched between our bodies though she paid it no mind. My arms pinned to my sides I have no choice but to ride it out, or sweat it out more accurately. I laugh as she lets me go and gives me a once over.
“That’s me.” I say. “Though my friends call me Jo.”
“Jo it is.” She nods. “Jo White, correct?”
“That’s me.”
“Well welcome sister, welcome to Savannah.”
“Thank you, erm, sister.”
“The name’s Dom, short for Dominique” Her eyes narrow as she continues to study me. “Aren’t you a peach. You are not at all what we were expecting.”
“Oh?” My heart skips a beat. I was barely through the gate, was it all about to fall apart already? I am at the ready to pull out my mom’s membership card and start to fast talk, with my hair and make up done up like it was my resemblance to the woman in the photo was pretty spot on.
It was unnecessary though as she steps forward to take my suitcase. “Come on in.” Motioning me forward we begin to walk toward the house. “So you’re from Alaska, huh?”
It sounded more a genuine question than a casual bit of introductory chatter, as if she were confirming it. “Yep, land of the midnight sun.”
“I didn’t even know any of our kind lived that far North.”
“Our kind? Um, right, our kind.” I shrug. “Not many, that’s for sure.”
Climbing the steps I at last see the owner of the boots I’d seen from the sidewalk resting in the shade of the porch. Laying on her back, hands folded over her belly and a white dented panama hat covering her eyes, is a pleasantly plump woman with long and loose frizzy red braids. Nothing about her ensemble went together. Army boots with mismatched socks, baggy stained denim overalls, a frilly mint green collared shirt, and of course the brimmed hat, it was as if she’d just grabbed the first things she saw and threw them on. Her large breasts slumped to either side told me she hadn’t bothered with a bra. She had on no makeup and wore tiny simple metal studs in her ears and right nostril. Beside her, tipped over on a tarp with various tools laying around it, is a cherry red scooter with its engine torn apart along with an ashtray with both cigarette butts as well as the roach of a different kind of cigarette.
Leaning down Dom pinches the top of the hat with two fingers and lifts it off to reveal a pretty freckled face beneath. She drops the hat back down over the woman’s crotch. “Sleepy head, yoo hooooo!”
Bleary green eyes blink open to stare up at us for a good ten seconds before she finally replies. “Good mornin gorgeous.” She says through a drowsy smile in a lilting Irish accent.
“Morning? It’s after three!” Dom scowls. She looks at me. “This lazy lump is Sloane. Sloane, this is Jo. Just come in.”
“Happy to meet you.” I say brightly.
“Feelin’s mutual darlin.” She winks.
“How much longer until it’s fixed.” Dom nods to the scooter.
“You can’t rush quality Dom.” Sloane yawns. Taking the hat she places it back over her face and settles back into her nap. “I’m not quite done ruminatin on it.”
I giggle as Dom rolls her eyes. We head into the house and I let out a huff of relief as we leave the insufferable heat behind us. I find the mansion just as nice on the inside. Perhaps a bit kitschy for my taste it had a real down to earth yet classy old southern charm about it. We stand in a high expansive foyer with a doorway on each wall and a set of wide stairs that curves up to the second floor.
“Set your stuff down here.” She offers a corner just beyond the entryway. “Let me show you around a bit before we find you a room.”
“Okay.”
As we pile the bags neatly in the main hall I hear a voice from above as cold and as sharp as a steel blade. “Is this the new one?” The crisp accent is German or something close. “How…disappointing.”
“Grumpy today, aren’t we Gretchen.” Dom looks up the curving staircase. “Don’t mind her Jo, she’s more bark than bite. Well…usually.”
Looking up I see a towering blond with arms crossed looking down on us from the landing above. Her straight flaxen hair is pulled back into a tight round bun, her stern icy blue gaze seems to pierce right through me. The woman was rail thin and might have been the tallest female I’d ever seen, though from way down here it was hard to judge. She wore thin rectangular glasses, white blouse, charcoal gray slacks, and a matching gray buttoned up blazer that hung much lower than normal which gave the otherwise stuffy conservative outfit a strikingly unique flare. What makeup she had on was subtle, just enough to accentuate her sharp features, except for the glossy ruby red lipstick that shone out like a beacon against her pale flesh. I could make out earrings sparkling at her lobes and a single diamond band on her right index finger.
“Sorry to disappoint your majesty.” I quip with a curtsy.
Dom chuckles as Gretchen cocks a thin eyebrow and seems to thaw, just a bit. Addressing Dom she says. “I thought you said she would be a mature student.”
“Yeah. The database is still fubar, clearly.”
“Madame will need to know.”
“I know, I know.” Dom says and waves her off. “We’ll get to it, the girl just got here.”
“Indeed.” The blonde gives me a slow nod of greeting then, without another word, turns with the grace of a fashion model and disappears into the upstairs.
With the statuesque German gone a gradually dawning feeling rises in me, that faint tingle one gets at the back of their skull when they think they’re being watched and had been watched for sometime already. Glancing to my right I just catch the partial silhouette of a dark figure quietly peeking out around the entry into what appeared to be a sumptuous living room. Nudging Dom I nod off in that direction and ask. “Bashful?”
“Mmm?” She looks and lets out a gasp. “Oh! Beatriz! God sake girl! You must stop sneaking up on people.”
Beatriz was a slender Latina with long raven hair worn loose and huge eyes as deep and dark as a moonless night, made even larger by her thick oval glasses. Based on the dark circles under her eyes she looks like she could desperately use a good night’s sleep, and a bit of sun certainly would warm her skin’s wan pallor. She wore a short sleeved black dress that looked like it was stolen straight from the closet of Wednesday Addams and her legs were covered in black and white striped leggings. Her feet were bare and the toes of the one foot I could see rhythmically gripped against the floor as the rest of her remained as still as a corpse. With just the one eye peeking out she…stares.
“Uh, hello there.” I wave with a friendly smile. “My name is…”
“I know your name” She says in hushed wispy voice that sends a chill down my spine.
“Oh?”
“It’s Jo. I heard Dom say it.”
“Yes.”
“Short for Joanna.”
“Right.”
“You are from Alaska.”
“Fairbanks, yeah.”
“Yes.” A hush falls. Beatriz continues her intense yet emotionless unblinking black stare, only the subtle rub of her toes gripping at the floor to break the silence and the stillness. I begin to squirm.
“Ummm…”
“Welcome home…sister.” Like the earth’s shadow gliding across the moon she slides straight sideways to disappear behind the door frame.
I look at the cringing Dom. “That girl gives me the heebie-jeebies.” She whispers with a shudder. “Come on.” She loops her arm in mine. “Let me show you your new home.”
Avoiding the living room altogether she leads me past the stairs and through a door into a large bright common room, a place meant for relaxing and socializing. Two long white sofas sit in the center facing each other with a rectangular coffee table between them, all of it sitting on beautiful red rug. There were a couple of arm chairs and a rocking chair placed about as well a few end tables here and there. The right wall was one big floor to ceiling bookshelf packed with worn old tomes. The wall behind and to my left had various works of classic and modern art, all of them female-centric. Above a brick fireplace is a particularly rousing painting of Joan of Arc with her sword held high. Huge bay windows look out over the back yard which, even at a glance, I could tell was even more impressive than the front.
Sitting cross-legged in the apse of the bay window, her back turned to us, is a woman with very short pixie style black hair with coppery-red highlights. She was black, though her skin a much lighter shade than Dom’s, with a wide full behind tapering up into narrower shoulders. On her pear shaped body she currently wore tight yoga pants and a loose cotton t shirt, each a different shade of violet. Hearing us enter the woman lowers her hands to rest upon her knees.
“Ah…ah…ah choooo!”
“Sneezy here is Charlize.” Dom says.
“Oh, um, bless you.” I say.
“Mmm.” She takes a big breath in and slowly lets it out, then peers back at us over her shoulder to take a look at me. Facially the woman was gorgeous; perfect lips, perfect nose, and lovely mocha eyes a near match for her smooth skin tone. After a moment she smiles, revealing perfect teeth as well. The woman was certainly blessed in the looks department, except for her plus-sized derriere she wouldn’t look out of place in a beauty pageant. “Blessings to you as well traveler.” Her natural voice is downright melodic.
“The name is Joanna but my friends call me…” I begin to approach.
“Stop!”
“Huh?”
She takes a long inhale through her nose…and then. “Ah choo!”
“Bless you.”
“Hmmm.” She sniffles and scrunches her nose. “No offense Joanna, but…stay back. Ahhh.” Her eyes water and she nearly sneezes again. “You must have brought something with you from the tundra, as I suspected you might.”
“The tundra?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I’ve read about how global warming is thawing the permafrost and how there are all sorts of germs and parasites being released.”
“I don’t have a parasite!”
“Your energy is all off center as well. I can see that from here.” She says with growing concern. “Your Northern sun cycle has wreaked havoc on your spirit.”
“I think my spirit is just fine.”
“AH CHOOO!” She lets her loudest sneeze yet into the crook of her elbow. “Oh my.”
“It’s probably just your perfume.” Dom mutters. “Charlize is allergic to everything.”
“Don’t worry.” Charlize snorts and talks in a stuffed up tone. “I have herbal teas and incense that can cleanse you, body and soul.”
“I am clean!”
Seeing this meeting only getting worse Dom pulls me along to the next room. “We’ll leave you to your meditations or whatever. Namaste.”
“Thank you Dominique.” She nods appreciatively. Waving to me she calls. “I can’t wait to meet you properly Joanna.”
“Yeah…me too.” I then mutter once we’re out of earshot. “I guess.”
“Don’t mind her. Once you get used to her ways she’s a great gal.” She laughs. “We’re an odd lot, but you know how it is. You can’t choose your sisters. Am I right?”
“Oh, yes.” I agree just to go along with her. “That’s how it is alright. Mmm hmm.”
She shows the large dining room, quite proud of the enormous polished oak table and chairs that could accommodate an even dozen. She is in the process of the pointing out each of the girls regular spot when we hear a sweet sing-song voice coming from the next room.
“Dopy, dopy, dopy, doo. Skoodily, woodily, woodily, woo.”
I giggle at the silly ditty. “Who is that?”
“That’s Dot.” Dom smiles.
Together we head through the door and into the kitchen were we find a bouncy bubbly little bundle of cuteness wiggling her tush as she dances to her own tune in front of the huge open refrigerator. “Fringa, dinga, winga, poo.”
“You better not be touchin that cake I made!” Dom scolds. “That’s to celebrate her first night with us.” She thumbs to me. “You can have some tonight.”
Dot spins on a heel all the way around full circle then then another 180 degress to end up facing us, leaving herself a bit dizzy. Slender yet curvaceous, perky of butt and bosom, with a button nose and an adorably cherubic face Dot was ten tons of kawaii packed into a hundred pound frame. She had wavy dark brown hair that looked like it hung just past her shoulders, though at the moment they were up in pigtails, and warm ochre skin that set off her dazzling golden eyes spectacularly. She wore a patterned pink skirt that hung to just above the knees and a short sleeved shirt that showed a bit of skin at both the cleavage and midriff.
“Aloha sis.” She says as she shoots me a little finger-thumb heart.
“Well hello there.”
She comes forward leaving the fridge door wide open behind her, Dom grumbles and hurries around to close it. Coming to the other side of the kitchen island she reaches across the top and holds her hands out to me. I approach and take her hands.
“Alright, you and me are a team.”
“We are?” I smile.
“Yeah! We’re both new this year, we’re both Americans from outside contiguous 48, and…we’re both young?” She looks at Dom. “I thought you said she’d be old!”
“The info was wrong.”
“Ah yes, the hack.” She says with a smirk. “What a bother.”
“Are you hungry?” Dom asks, seemingly ready to fix her something.
“Not really.”
“Then why were you…?” Dom looks back at the fridge she’d just closed. “Ah, forget it.”
“Okay!” Dot says then turns back to me and grips my hands tighter. “How old?”
“Nineteen.”
“I’m eighteen!” She peeps. “We’re the only two teens. We have so much in common. Oh yes, we’ll be a team alright.”
“Go team.”
“HA! Yes!” She giggles. “I’m a selfie, what about you?”
Selfie? I look back and forth between them unsure of how to respond.
“Dot.” Dom warns. “Don’t pry. That’s personal.”
Dot ignores the warning. “I’m super little, only five and half, what about you?”
Five and a half? What the heck was she talking about? It certainly wasn’t height as she looked to be five foot tall at most.
“That puts me in the in the point five percentile, you?”
“Dot!” Dom says more firmly as she sees me floundering. “That is none of our business. Remember what I told you about personal boundaries?”
Just then Dot’s eyes widen as a look of terror washes over her. “OHHHH FUCK!”
“What?” I ask, terribly confused.
She gets this strange distant look, her eyes start to scan back and forth as if she were reading something floating in the air behind me. Her eyes refocus and she looks up at me with the most heart wrenching pout. “There’s an error.”
“There is?”
“Oh….oh God no! It’s not stable!”
“Dot?”
“Why didn’t I see it!?” She lets go and spins back around and stomps for the door with her fists shaking in front of her. “Stupid Dot! Stupid, stupid, dopy Dot! I’m such an idiot!”
“Nice to meet you!” I call after her. “My name is Jo by the way.” She had already disappeared through the door though. I look at my guide. “What’s with her?”
“Search me.” She shrugs. “I’m still learning myself. She just arrived last week. She’s a sweetheart but she’s all over the place. I get the sense her parent was happy to be rid of her, poor dear. I don’t know how she’ll ever function out on her own.” She pats my hand. “Don’t let her fool you though, the girl’s a genius.”
“Her?”
“I mean an actual genius. IQ over 200, for real.”
“Huh.”
“Anyway, this here is the kitchen, also known as my office.” She says as she shows off the large well stocked kitchen. “When I’m home you can usually find me in here. You are free to cook for yourself of course but I usually do supper’s up for everybody each evening.”
“I can…just come in here and eat anything I want?”
“Yeah.”
“Anytime I want?”
“Yeah.”
“No charge?”
“Yes.” She says with an increasingly questioning tone. “The Cybele Sisterhood takes care of everything. Obviously.”
Cybele Sisterhood? CS! I finally had a name.
“Obviously.” Concerned about her rising curiosity I shift the conversation. “Hey, can I see the backyard. From what I saw it looked amazing.”
“Mmm.” She rubs her chin, then nods. “Yes, of course. Follow me.”
Together we head back through the dining hall and common room, sure to give Charlize a wide berth, and out onto the porch through the back entrance. I was only two steps onto the porch when a deafening shout scares the life near out of me! “HAIEE!”
“AHHH!”
I twist left to find the source of the shout and at that exact same instant a high kick snaps toward me at lightning speed. I suddenly find myself staring straight into the sole of a dirty calloused foot that hovers an inch from my nose. With impeccable control the owner of said foot slowly lowers it. It was a stout Asian woman in a karate gi, white on top with black pants and a black belt. Inside the opening of the shirt sweat rolls down her chest to soak the black sports bra beneath. Her gleaming tawny skin was sun-kissed, her bobbed black hair tousled and held back with a thin headband. She was an attractive woman, a touch shorter than me, with taut muscles and the rugged physicality of an athlete.
When her foot meets the porch she straightens up, gives me a swift bow, then greets me with a humongous beaming smile that could brighten a dark room.
“Happy to meet you.” She says cheerily.
“Hanae!” Dom exclaims. “You scared the poor girl half to death…and me too!”
Hanae laughs, a mirthful infectious laugh, and points at me with a finger gun. “But you can’t say I didn’t make an impression, eh? Ha ha!”
“Whoo!” I pat my chest. “You certainly did that!”
She grabs my hand in a firm grip and shakes it in a way women rarely did. Hanae was definitely something of a tomboy. “So you’re the new girl.” She says.
“Yeah. Jo is the name. Jo from Alaska.”
“I like it! Good name, strong name.” She tugs on her gi. “Hey, you practice?”
“Karate?”
“Yeah. Or judo. Or jiu-jitsu. Or kendo. Anything?”
“Um…I mean I did a little tae kwon do as a kid.”
“Awesome!” She claps her hands, her big joyous smile somehow growing even more. “I need a training dumm…erm, partner so bad. Haven’t had a proper one since I got here.”
“Why not just join a class?” I offer the obvious solution.
Hanae’s grin dims and her eyes shoot across to Dom for a moment. “I mean, I wish.” She leans in. “Is that something we’re allowed to do in Alaska?”
“Um…” I stutter as I realize that I had stumbled into something here that I didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t the sisters be able to join a sports class? Some sort of belief system? It didn’t seem to stop her from practicing it on her own though. “I mean…we’re not really that organized up there. Sorta isolated, ya know?”
“How many were there?” Dom asks, my responses beginning to arise suspicions in her. Shit, I would be soused out soon enough under direct questioning. If so, this hadn’t been a waste. Even if they kicked me out now I’d already learned so much. I still didn’t know everything about this Cybele Sisterhood but I’d learned more in this past half hour than all the years that preceded it combined. I just hoped the muscle bound Hanae didn’t kick my ass before they tossed me to the curb. She was smiling now but I’d hate to see her angry. “How many of the Sisterhood are in Alaska Jo?” Dom presses.
“Well…honestly…” I scramble for a lie. “…just me and Mom.”
“You and your mother? That’s it? What was her name?”
“Her name? Well, her name is…was…Hazel.”
“Was?” Dom’s voice softens. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Wait, Hazel?” Dom says. “Hazel Honeycutt?”
“Um.” I had never heard that last name before this very moment. “Yes?”
“Ah! A garbled version of that name was listed along side Joanna White in the same file. I thought it was just more corruption from the hack.” She snaps her fingers. “Of course, same genetics.”
The same genetics comment was the one thing I did understand. In order to fill out the entire form I was forced to use a combination of my own genuine information along with the few bits I had from my mom’s card. The weirdest part of the application process involved sending a hair or throat swab from a ‘trusted doctor’ to the CS headquarters. I had used a hair off of an old hairbrush of my mother’s that I’d been able to hold onto so that it would match the info on the card. Prince warned me that putting my own information in with my mother’s was a guarantee of it not working but when a Hail Mary is the only play you had left, you threw it. And here I stood.
“You are a selfie, aren’t you?” Dom says. “Sorry to pry.”
“Um…yes?”
“Yeah. Okay. It makes sense now. You and your mother’s info got all jumbled together.”
“Happened to a selfie girl and her Ma that I knew back in Cali.” Hanae says. “The database is fuuuucked right now.”
“We keep this between us, okay Hanae?” Dom says. “The others don’t need to know.”
“You got it mon capitaine.” Hanae nods. “Hey, selfie’s are sisters too. No shame.” She punches me in the shoulder. Light as it had been…it hurt!
“Thanks.” I rub my shoulder.
“Madame will get you all cleared up when she gets back.” Dom assures me. “Should only be a couple of days. Alright?”
“Sure, that would be…good.”
Reaching down Hanae scratches herself in a most unladylike way as she pats my other shoulder with the non-scratching hand. “Growing up without other sisters? That had to be rough.” She grins as sympathy turns to optimism. “On the bright side, nobody to snoop into your business. Eh?”
“Yeah.”
“Good to have you here.” She says. “Hey, you two seen Sloane anywhere?”
“She’s napping out front.” Dom answers. “Supposedly she’s working on Dot’s scooter.”
An impish twinkle glimmers in her brown eyes as a trouble-making grin slowly grows. “Napping, huh?”
“No pranks!”
“Of course not dear leader. The idea never even crossed my mind.”
Dom holds up her hands. “I don’t want to know. Leave me out of it.”
“He he he he.” Hanae titters as she scampers off around the house looking to cause some trouble.
“Well, that’s everyone.” Dom says. “It’s just you and us seven other Belle’s here right now. We have a grounds keeper-handyman named Roland. You’ll see him and his assistant Johnny around here most mornings. Don’t worry. Roland’s in the know.”
“In the know?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not saying you should go prancing naked through the garden or anything, but you’re safe with him.”
“Riiight. And Johnny?”
“Not yet.” She shakes her head and let’s out a pitying sigh. “Be more careful around him. Poor little Johnny’s had more forget-me-shots than I can count. That just can’t be good for a person.”
Forget-me-shots? A question I would save for later. Right now I was being knocked off of my feet by the beauty of the estate’s walled back yard. There was a big fountain in the center with curving paths radiating out from it through the lush gardens. The water shoots high into the air, twinkling like stars as the droplets fall back down into the basin, and the white noise of the water combined with the rustling breeze was oh so relaxing. Behind the high stone walls this place was a refuge of opulent tranquility right inside the bustling city.
“Wow.” I sigh. “I’d think I had died and gone to heaven…if it wasn’t as hot as hell!"
“Just good healthy Southern heat is all. You’ll acclimatize soon enough Miss Alaska.” Dom chuckles as she puts an arm around me and breaks into beat once more. “They call her Miss Alaska, never even been to Nebraska, call her Jo she’ll ask ya, in the sun she won’t bask…ah.”
I giggle. “That was…”
“Terrible, I know.” She laughs. “You better get used to them.” She points. “Past the shrubbery is a gate. There’s fenced parking, a storage building, and Roland’s shack back there. Over in the corner is a shed where we keep some yard stuff. I’ve already got keys for you.”
“Thank you. Good Lord.” I’m fanning my dress. “Can we go back in?”
“You think this is hot just wait until you try my Thai seafood soup.”
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes, it’s what we’re having tonight.”
“Have mercy!”
“If you can’t stand the heat you came to the wrong place!” She quips. “You’ll learn to love it.”
“Can we go in…please?”
“Come on.” Dom says. “Why don’t we go find you a room?”
I smile as I slump my head down onto her soft shoulder. A room. Keys. I was in! Thanks to my mother’s card getting me through the gate and hell of a lot of luck the ruse had worked, at least until this “Madame” came around to clear things up. Though thanks to the chaos of this “hack” they were still recovering from there is a glimmer of hope that I might be able to keep this going for awhile. In the meantime perhaps I could learn how to join the organization legitimately. Any group my mother was a part of couldn’t be anything nefarious, and the free room and board was just too good to pass up on. Besides, as quirky as they each were, I kind of liked my new sisters. They were so dynamic and different, a far cry from the bland homogenous personalities I’d grown up with. Deep down I got a good feeling about these women. They were…unique, and I think I could use a little unique in my life right now.
Comments
Jason D Fluffer
You had my curiosity with the titel... but after reading, now you have my attention.
Belly97
This is good and I always love your futa works. More, please!
Grimbous
I was going to call this "Jo White and the Seven Belles" but I thought this would probably get a lot more attention on it, blunt as it is. Everything is still up in the air though.
