Back to words
Here we are again, back from a bit of an absence. Bit of an absence from writing too, so it feels although I suppose I have kept up as well as I ever do.
Laptop conked out for a while and despite having backed up the story which is our present main focus the most recent work on it was still locked away for that period. Consequently in effort to keep busy a new very short piece was written and a couple of others.
Also over this period I have had to deal with Centrelink a couple of times, which is sharply disheartening. Hopefully employment will be found soon and hopefully some capacity for time management will be found which allows continued progress in other areas too.
So far as accomplishments go... Monday was actually the first time parking in a parking lot which was nearly full. That went quite well. Elsewise, have continued being taught basic parts of coding and managed to construct some equally basic functioning program, of which I am very proud. Still proceeding with that, and some more exercises to be worked on after the immediately scheduled postings are done.
Back to writing. Managed to get a piece which has been frustrating me for some months out of the way today, and which was a significant part of the past few days' silence. Am still not happy with it, and may well revoke it from its own little canon. At least it is done.
One advantage of being back in Vista for the time being is being able to go back to working in yWriter. That is where I started this story, and that is where I would like to finish it. I have said, I think more than once, that having worked on erotica all this year and then some, that I am quite looking forward to working in another genre for a while. This weariness is probably not helped by long patches of writing apathy earlier in the year, which stretched what could have been single month projects out over several. But that is why we try to build up momentum, to retain familiarity with the story and its voice and what it needs and getting far enough into it to go longer into the act of writing.
I still need to be more at ease with working on revision and research. Those may not contribute to wordcounts directly, but they do (should do) result in something better at the end.
The stretch of draft being posted this time constitutes the entirety of what was written since I stopped using yWriter until I went back to it. All the way up to where I am up to, in fact, so for next week's post (let us believe for this moment there will be another of these posts in one week and not several) the extract will contain whatever has been written over that interval. Some direct evidence of how slowly I proceed.
I think, having settled by now more into what this story is supposed to be, there are for now fewer major adjustments to be made in redrafting and polishing from here. Not that it does not need editing, but at least currently this section is not intended to be scrapped or substantially rewritten. Some earlier events will need adjustment to fit better with the shape of things, and most uses of 'Bri' will need to be replaced with Brianne as although the story does not take place in first person our perspective is closely enough entwined with Anna's that the nickname suggests a familiarity and a casualness she does not currently possess about the situation.
Anna held no awareness of the trail of moments passing, only the sweep of the broom until it was done. She was careful when her sweeping intersected with the locations of Bri and Echo to leave them undisturbed, or increased in comfort. So too when sweeping became dusting, sometimes even of objects in use. She experimented at those moments with gestures of respect and found a preference expressed for those which emphasised her tail, plus on one occasion, the last occasion, being swatted by Bri for calling excess attention to herself at inappropriate moments.
Later she was told she had done well enough for the day and it was time for dinner. This meal was not her responsibility. It was Echo's, and Anna was to serve as her assistant. Mostly she assisted by performing chopping and other cooking type actions toward an end she was not privy to, the final assembly done by Echo herself.
This time she got to eat at the table, and it was much more comfortable than cold tiles on her rear. Echo was an excellent cook. Plus she got some credit for helping out.
It felt weird, the meal and the remainder of the evening. They were nice to her, asked about her work at the library, talked about their own, as if she were their guest and not their prisoner. Anna was feeling a lot more like a guest by the time she cleared the table and got called into the entertaining room.
They watched a movie together, Bri in the big armchair, Echo and Anna seated together on the floor in front of her. Anna's tail was curled in her lap and it felt good when Bri left her hand down to scritch at Anna's scalp.
At the end of the movie they all stretched and yawned and agreed it was time for bed.
“What do you think?” asked Brianne. “Has our little kit been good today?”
“She has. Wonderfully good, except that little break for the door earlier. But that won't happen again, will it?”
“Nno.” Anna shook her head violently. “Won't be doing that again.” Surely they would let her out sometime.
“Mm.” Brianne looked her up and down. “I think she's earned a bit of a reward. You can come with us dear; tonight you don't have to sleep on a board.”
They led Anna up to the bedroom they shared. Echo rummaged in the wardrobe and removed a large dog bed, furnished it with thick and comfortable-looking blankets, and arranged it at the foot of the bed.
“Surely you're not serious.”
“This is where pets sleep. If you're naughty you can go back to the board, or out in the yard. If you are very good indeed, well, only family gets the big bed.”
Anna groaned under her breath, but saw no point arguing. She tried to make herself comfortable while the others undressed. It was surprisingly easy and she was quite cosy when the light went out.
~ ~ ~
When Anna woke her first action was stretching. A little sore, a little stiff, well-rested and pleasantly warm under sunlight spilling across the floor. After a little while she roused herself further and discovered Bri and Echo still sleeping.
Now might be a good time to sneak out. She could be gone before they noticed.
Carefully Anna stepped out from the blankets, tiptoed across the floor and inched the door open without a creak. She slipped downstairs with desperate grace, pausing in front of the kitchen door. They hadn't really been so horrible to her. Except for the kidnapping. And the strapping her down to be fucked. And making her do service-work for them. Although the latter two were pretty nice. Maybe she could leave them a going away present, to show she didn't have hard feelings any more.
Anna decided on pancakes. Simple, easy and quick. She hummed as she worked, watching sunlight play on the grill, warming her arm. But pancakes cool quickly, and they had said they would let her go to work on Tuesday. She could leave then. It was peaceful enough here performing service, and the sex was good. She could think of it as an unexpected holiday. She took breakfast up on a tray, tail swishing.
Both were stirring. They accepted her offering with drowsy good humour. Echo suggested she join them and eat her own breakfast sitting at the end of the bed; Bri pointed out they'd be done before Anna could make something for herself and bring it back, so she sat and talked instead.
As Anna gathered up the trays she was reminded the garden needed tending as well as the rest of downstairs. She had no intention of that, not while the sky kept up this holiday downpour. But first, her own breakfast, also pancakes, with jam and sliced banana. The rain kept on rattling.
There was not actually so much to keep her occupied today, especially as she did not pass the morning being caned. Straight after cleaning up breakfast she took to the downstairs with her broom. Without any distraction permitted or available she surprised herself with how quickly time vanished into the sweep of that broom and its dustpan escort.
She started when Bri interrupted to say it was time for lunch and gave Anna their orders.
Again she sat with them at the table for lunch, tail hanging out a hole at the back of her chair, and learned a bit more about their current projects. Of herself she had little to say, having performed nought but cleaning and other service since the day before. If she had been to work, if this were not a long weekend, then perhaps she would have something to say, but that was not today.
Today was determined to be a quiet day, taking on a startlingly routine feel as Anna finished with the Nest's insides. She hesitated a bit, wondering what to do - perhaps leave? - then went up to check with Bri and Echo.
“There's still the garden,” said Bri.
Anna stalked over to the window and flung open the curtains to show rain still streaking thickly down, hoping they would not insist on her going out in that to be drenched.
Brianne chuckled deeply but said nothing until Echo suggested they might give her some of their clothes to repair. That became Anna's assignment for the afternoon and when she said she did not know how it was suggested she learn.
~ ~ ~
By dinnertime Anna had accomplished very little sewing. She had secreted herself away in the small downstairs study, surrounded by needle, thread, the skirts Echo and Brianne had assigned Anna to repair, and books from their library on how sewing happened.
A shadow moving in the doorway turned out to be Echo, come to collect her. Anna felt her cheeks flush lightly and she moved to shift her infinitesimal progress out of sight, not quite wanting to own up to her lack of sudden sewing mastery.
“Oh, your fingers!”
Echo rushed in and took up Anna's hand, bringing it first up to examine, then to lightly kiss the two fingers that had been pricked and plastered in the course of Anna's experiments.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes. Just a bit sore. They'll be fine by the time we sleep.”
“Then let's get you to the kitchen.”
And Anna found herself swooped up before she could say another word.
“You won't always have to cook,” said Echo, leading. “We like it too much to give up, although you do pretty well for yourself. This weekend, cooking is all yours to settle you in, but remember not to get too used to it.”
