Annie 32, Annie POV

(Chronological index: Ray/Denise Married, Ruth known)

I woke up to the sound of sex. Unfortunately, I wasn't involved. There was giggling, whispering and slurping. Someone was having fun and taking their time. It sounded like my master-in-law was paying off her promise to my masterful dummy.

Each rasp of sheet or slap skin carried easily across the distance to my drawer. Master thinks that closing the drawer is effective sound proofing. Master can be quite the moron.

I didn't mind being woken by the sound of Denise coming across with her debt. There was a bar of Hershey's chocolate in the corner of my drawer for the same reason. It was taller than I was and there was an anvil and hammer ready to break down the almonds.

Pet was coming home today, so I wasn't going to open it until she got back. She wouldn't begrudge me a few bites of chocolate, but that just made it easier to share with her. To want to share with her.

There was no point in asking to go to the bathroom until they were finished, so I snuggled back down under my microfiber quilt.

The lovers finally finished their loving and collapsed into a snuggle. I'd have tried to sleep through that, but my bladder was starting to demand attention.

Sure, there's a chamber pot in the drawer, but it's undignified. I'd far rather violate a married couple's privacy.

I got up and grabbed the lever for the drawer. Two pumps and my ladder was clear. I climbed up and rang the parakeet bell at the top.

"Oh, Annie. Five minutes?" Ray moaned.

"My bladder alarm went off six minutes ago, Ray," I told him. I crossed my arms on the top of the drawer face and looked at him. "I suppose I should have asked then. But that usually spoils the mood."

"Take her," Denise said. She rolled over on the far side of my owner and disappeared in a cocoon of blankets.

"Alright," he said, slipped of his cuddling leash. He held a hand out for me, palm down.

I grabbed his forefinger and held on tight. He lifted and rolled his hand. By the time he was standing I was laying across the top of his palm, watching the world go by.

The master bathroom has two sinks. One's dedicated to us sylphs, serving as our toilet. That's in the old fashioned sense of the word, the place we do our personal grooming.

Ray set me down on the little shelf stretching across the porcelain, turned on the water and turned away. Then he used the realio-trulio toilet while I availed myself of the commodious commode.

I stayed there, looking at myself in the mirror, until I heard the shower running.

Master and I have a morning ritual of bathing together. It goes back to about 1982. Some rock star was on TV, mentioned taking her sylph with her on every tour so they could bathe together.

The Mom turned to us and said we were forbidden to do that. So ever since the next morning, we have.

It was my idea, really. There was the spark of defiance against the overwhelming authority of The Mom. There's the chance to bond with my owner. And as he cups me in his soapy hands and runs sudsy thumbs all over my body, it wraps him tightly around my little finger.

I spread my legs and moaned appreciatively as he rinsed me off. He hasn't hit me with the shower in years, and that last time took three sneezes in a row.

He just held me to the side, where the spray of water bouncing off his chest hit me like a miniature lawn sprinkler. The suds collapsed and ran away, revealing my body.

Master made a diligent search, ensuring that the very last soap bubble had run off of my clean, wet skin.

There may have been an appreciative moan of his own. Then he reached out through the shower curtain to put me on the counter. I walked carefully to the platform and the towel rack there.

I had my hair dried by the time he finished. One advantage of being knee high to a dolly, the water just evaporates off you, even in Florida's humidity.

Relative to those great, huge noggins that bob overhead, everything on a sylph is an extremity.

"Ready to start the day?" he asked as he toweled himself off.

"Sure, great!" I said. "A blow-job alarm clock sets the mood for the day, the evening, and most of the night to follow."

"Sorry, Annie, but…"

"Next time?" I told him. "Either you two or I need to be in the guest room. On the other side of the sound proofing you keep bragging on."

I leaned back as he picked me up, placing my bare butt carefully on his palm. There's an art to picking up sylphs. There's a more immediate art, as far as I'm concerned, in getting picked up.

"But the drawer was closed!" he protested as we went back to the bedroom to get dressed.

"Revered Master, I've explained this to you a few times. I begin to wonder if you're just an extrovert. It doesn't really matter to me. I enjoy porn. And you'd have to watch porn on an IMAX screen to match my experience on the sidelines of your bed. But I-"

He dumped me in the drawer and slid it shut on me. I shut up then. I could still have made myself heard, but then he'd take further steps to muffle me. When the owner doesn't want to hear what you're saying, the properly deferential pet stifles herself.

And so do I.

He got dressed and walked out to start the coffee. Denise rolled out of bed once he was gone and stumbled to the bathroom.

I chose two similar outfits, one for me and one for my partner in crime. Pet would be coming off the plane in a state of undress, she'd appreciate clothes as soon as possible.

And if they matched, she'd squeal about us being sisters or a matched set or showing some bond… Who knew? But it'd make her happy so I'd have to put up with that sort of talk.

We had a mesh bag made from a small aquarium net. I put the clothes in that and snugged it shut.

I didn't always like matching outfits with Pet, but I did try to match levels. If she was naked I was going to be. It's only fair, you know?

The bag got heaved down to the floor and I climbed down the rope ladder. Then I tossed the bag down the slide. It slid a few feet down then stopped.

I got one of the footsie socks from the box in the corner and jumped on the slide. My feet kicked the bag in front of me all the way down.

Revered Master had an English Muffin toasted for us by the time I got to the top of the table. My slice was already buttered. Well, he'd buttered his before cutting my part.

But I'd finally gotten him to stop spreading apple butter on parts that were destined for me. It didn't take much effort, but only because I was diligent in his training during our early years.

He was talking about things in the paper as we ate. Mostly things that didn't affect me.

There are a couple of personalities I follow, if only to be able to snark proficiently in public. But the rest was just… Well. Imagine that you're at a circus.

And all the acts are being performed by elephants. An elephant as the lion tamer and more elephants as all the lions. An elephant on the trapeze. Elephant clowns.

Really quickly, it all looks the same. And you can't really feel any connection to the performers.

Sure, you don't want to be under the high wire act, but that's self interest.

I have a little money, from my allowance and from a little job I used to do for Ray's company.

I have no vote. I affiliate with no party. I have a hard time worshiping a god that sylphed me. My sexual preference doesn't matter near as much as my owner's preference. And my health care involves a vet.

Ray sat and got quite irate about things I literally couldn't care less about.

So I ate my muffin in silence.

I was done before Denise joined us. She was looking much better after her own toilet.

And she was going to get Pet back today, so she was annoyingly chipper. At least, it should have been annoying. I was disappointed to realize that I shared her mood.

"Sorry I can't come out with you," Ray said.

"It's fine," his wife told him. "Me, Carla, the girls. We'll do lunch or something. You'd be bored with all the girl talk."

"You'd be uncomfortable with the topics," I added.

"Actually," he drawled, "ah'd just be deafened by all thet there screamin' and squealin' and high-pitched 'I missed you!' and carryin' on."

"I don't carry on!" I protested.

The schmuck sipped his coffee and waved his finger to indicate Denise.

"You're just jealous because Pet appreciates public displays of affection," she replied with dignity.

"I can display affection in public!" I said. I jerked a thumb at my Master. "I kissed…um. Whatshisname in front of my father, didn't I?"

"That's true," Ray said in support. "And there was no squealing at all."

"Because at that moment, neither one of you could speak," she said with a smile. It was one of those soppy ones, too, not a sharp, snarky effort.

"I do not have to sit here through such allegations," he said and stood.

"Crap, I do," I said. He started gathering keys and wallet to go to work. He kissed me and his wife goodbye, in that order, and he was gone.

The kiss he gave her was twice as long as the one he gave me. But she's twelve times as long as I am, so in any rational comparison, I came out ahead.

Don't tell her I said that.

Then I was alone with my co-owner. She smiled and ate her own toasted bakery product, offering me a slice.

I sat by her plate and nibbled.

Denise and I have a weird relationship. Well, really, my relationship with everyone is weird. I'm a talking pet, classified as Exotic where such things are listed.

Ray owns me, and though twenty three years together have made it more like a marriage than slavery, it's still an essential part of the relationship.

Ray's parents were kind of extended owners as we grew up.

His roommates and girlfriends mostly tried to treat me as a person who needed Ray's permission to hang out. A few were even more into the pet/slave thing. A couple tried to kidnap me.

Pet and I have coequal status before the law (which is zilch), and very similar points of view (from close to the floor), but she sees me as the senior partner in the relationship.

And there's a bit of hero worship on her part. I'm not saying that it's not justified, but it does alter the balance between us.

But Denise…

Denise owns her own sylph, so I don't worry that she's with Master in order to get access to me.

She's not a microphile, near as I can tell, so I don't fear that she's trying to live vicariously through me.

She shares Pet with me, without a trace of jealousy. She shares Ray with me, and there's even signs of indulgence.

But don't think of Denise as shallow, as a paper cutout of where a personality is supposed to be. She's got an iron will and a faith in God that should, by rights, glow in the dark.

She's as dedicated to Ray as Ray is to me. Which should put me in charge, now that I think about it. She's also pretty damned dedicated to her own sylph.

I don't know if that helped, but she risked a psychoses for my sylphed friend, Mia. She did it for my sake. I know this because neither she nor Ray had even heard of Mia, much less met her..

And she's the only person who isn't a blood relative of mine or Ray's who I am sure wouldn't sell me if Ray were to die in an accident.

I don't know if I can convey to you how that feels. How that knowledge makes me secure. I'm a commodity. A damn fine one, if you must know. I'm valued at, um, 30K dollars.

There's many a soul that would jump at the chance to sell me if I came into their hands. I am firmly convinced, though, that Denise wouldn't even consider it. And not just because it would make Pet cry, but because I'm family to her.

She's made the positive choice to accept me, as I am, as someone she's responsible for.

And I feel the same way about her.

Don't tell her I said that.

After breakfast we dawdled around the house for a bit. She'd taken the whole day off but Carla's flight didn't get in until after noon.

As I sat in the carrier, waiting for it to be time to go, I noticed that the place was dusty.

Buttercup had always kept the place spotless. I never saw that much point in it. But when she started cleaning, Pet had joined in.

Now the dirt from a month of sole occupancy looked far worse than it had the day Buttercup moved in.

I didn't mind that, but there was some time to kill. I got the pastry brush we use as a broom and started cleaning.

I'd just started when the top opened up. Denise wordlessly scooped up all the cushions, leaving a clear space for me to sweep.

I gathered up the dirt as quick as I could, while I heard her banging the things together on the patio.

They were dust free as she replaced them. Then a damp cloth wicked away the dirt I'd collected and the place was ready for Pet to come back.

I smiled up at Pet's owner as she closed the lid. You always want the help to feel appreciated. Or they might stop helping.

-------------

Denise found a bench near a table for our wait. She put my travel carrier down and started reading a magazine out of her purse.

I wandered around the table, watching people go by. They stared back at me, more often than not. Well, it's been a long time since I was self-conscious about my nudity.

Not since President Anthony was in office, at the least.

We heard Pet squeal before we saw Carla. Denise's sister came down the hallway from the gates, holding the flight carrier like a dowsing rod before her.

Pet had seen her 'Denny' and was throwing herself back and forth in the box, laughing with glee.

Denise rose slowly, trying to look like a sophisticated owner indulging an excitable pet. But I'd seen her reading. The softie had been holding her magazine upside down.

Carla handed over the box and Denise broke Pet out of durance vile. The little blonde glommed onto her owner and started chattering like a wind-up toy attached to a wind turbine in a hurricane.

The sisters kissed briefly over Pet's head. Then Carla picked up me and my carrier. We all went to baggage claim while Pet's voice slowly returned to the hearing range of humans.

She told Denise all about her mother, Carolyn, and how she was redecorating. There was something about cousins of Denise and Carla's that went past me. More of those elephants.

She talked about the flight, and the Vegas airport, and the in-flight snack and the view out the window when they crossed the Mississippi and…

Aw, who knows what all she talked about. I know Pet said 'I missed you' two dozen times. And each time she got a kiss from Denny. So you can see that Pet's taken my advice on training the giants.

We sat on a bench while Carla got her bags. Denise held out a hand an I gave her a set of clothes. Pet hardly paused as she put on the shorts and the t-shirt. I dressed on the bench and waited.

We were actually in the car before before Pet kissed Denise's cheek one last time and turned to look down at me.

Our owner put both of us in my travel carrier and put that on the floor behind Carla's seat. That made it possible for the sisters to say hello.

I got glommed.

I suffered through it with dignity. I have to. When I growl, the dumb bunny just giggles and hugs harder. When I tell her to let go, she hugs harder. When I complain about her being in my personal space…well, you have the idea.

There was a small chance that if I pretended to return her affections, she'd end the hug. So I hugged her back. A little. Just enough so she'd think I missed her.

I mean really! I'd lived without her almost her entire life. She'd just spent a month with Carolyn and a week with Carolyn and Carla.

And I'd had both of our giants to myself. So, a pro-forma hug to get her to back off wasn't an emotional break-down or anything. Just a rational way to appeal to her self-image and pry her off.

She said something about being unable to breathe, so I stopped squeezing. But we didn't let go for a bit. I was… um, waiting for her to let go first.

Then Denise had to swerve around something in the road and we pitched into the cushions. By the time we were disentangled we were an arm's length apart.

Pet looked from my chest to hers. I had a She-Hulk T-shirt on, hers showed a picture of The Wasp. "We're Avenger buddies!" she squealed.

There was another hug. I swear, Pet doesn't wear her emotions on her sleeves. She bats them with a badminton racquet and sprays them across the room.

"Get offa me," I snarled. With predictable results.

Denise drove clear around Jacksonville to a restaurant in Orange Park. It wasn't that much better than the franchise outlets scattered across the city.

The long drive, though, gave Pet a chance to fully vent. So conversations at lunch involved all four of us.

We got Carla's report on their mom's widowhood. Carolyn seemed to be doing well. I was happy with that, since she's pretty cool.

And Denise told them about the battleship replica. And the puppet show. The glo-stick joke we played on people that weren't even in the hospital that day got two more laughs.

"What about your sleepover?" Pet asked. "Did Momma let you finish it? Or did you have to end it early?"

"Well," I said, drawing it out for a moment. "It actually got extended. Master and Mrs. Master liked having the house to themselves, so they let me stay there nine days."

Pet looked at me with wide eyes.

"Nine days straight?" Carla asked with surprise. "I wouldn't have thought Ray would be parted from you that long. Even to hang out with your sister all day." She glanced up a Denise, who winked.

"Not all day," I said. "Ruth had school and frankly, I didn't feel like going through high school a third time."

"So what did you do?" Pet asked quietly.

"I hung out with Momma. We made cookies. Oh! And she wants to meet you."

"What? Why? What did I do?" Pet looked a little paranoid. I grabbed both of her hands with mine.

"Nothing, Pet. Momma wants to get to know me. And the important people in my life. I told her what an annoying roommate you are, and she said you should come over. You're, uh… You're invited to the next sleepover. If you wanna come."

Pet looked from me up to her owner, who smiled and nodded. Then she pounced.

"Get offa me!"

-------------

Pet wouldn't rest until she had the full story of my sleepover. When she found out that Mia was alive, she squealed so loud, they looked at us from two tables way. Carla and Denise winced, but laughed at her as she swept down upon me.

"Ray may have been right about the squealing," I told Denise. After a moment, I askd her, "Don't tell him I said that?"

She nodded and smiled, finally prying Pet off of me so I could continue the story. Her smile faded as she stroked her pet. "Wait. Pet? You knew about Mia?"

That took us to the story of telling Pet about the worst day of my life. Then the story of how we ended up under the aloe in the folks' yard for the telling. Then we were set up to tell Mia's story. Denise was looking at me funny by then, but I ignored it.

Finally, I was ready to tell about the sleepover. Carla and Pet were both horrified to learn that Denise had risked psychosis to help with the search.

She didn't try to minimize the danger. No one at the table didn't understand the risk of Alice in Wonderland Syndrome. Pet may be stunted, emotionally, but she's not stupid.

Denise pointed out that she'd survived it well enough, petting Pet and patting Carla's wrist. Then she pat my head. "But Annie needed help. Mia needed help." She looked down at the sylph in her hand. "And Annie'd have done the same for me. In fact. WHen she down the drainpipe? She did." I got another pat. Pet got all drippy, saying 'Aw' and 'That's sweet' and stuff like that.

She raised her hands for another hug, and got it (the Annie system of training giants seldm fails). Right in the middle of it, she fell limp in Denise's hands. She wouldn't wake to any shaking or poking Denise was willing to apply.

"About time," Carla said.

"What?" Denise and I asked in chorus.

"Well, she hasn't slept in three days. About the time I mentioned packing to go home, she started bouncing off the walls. Mom moved the dollhouse out of her bedroom, then Buttercup moved Pet out of her room in the dollhouse."

Then Denise was echoing 'aw' and 'sweet' and drippy stuff like that.

You can tell her I said that.

Pet was still snoring lightly in her owner's hand when we left. Carla took one look at the way Denise was gazing at her sylph and offered to drive to our house.

I sat in the cupholder and watched my co owner.

I was a little envious of Denise from time to time. Not much. I mean, she has an education. A full time job. The height to climb stairs, to drive, to change the channel without using her feet. She even has our husband on a time-sharing basis.

I, uh, I'd take it as a personal favor if you wouldn't tell either of them that I said that.

But I take heart that for all she could be out stepping over ditches or seducing Jaguars players, she's utterly besotted by her little pet sylph. Pet would have her wrapped around her finger if she knew how.

I've tried to teach her, but she's remarkably satisfied in their relationship. Weird, huh?

So, I suppose the universe was simply forced to make the big redhead fondle the blonde and tell me, "You know, Annie? Sometimes i really envy you."

"Well, who better?" I said automatically. Then i ruined my apparent aplomb by saying, "Huh? Say what now?"

"You're a part of Pet's life in ways I never could be," she replied. "You share secrets. You whisper and giggle at night. When you hug, you can really cuddle each other. I'm always afraid i'll hurt her, and she can hardly wrap her arms around my finger, much less my shoulders.

"When I take her into the backyard, it's walkies. For you two, it's a significant adventure."

"Um, yeah, well... You, uh, are part of Ray's life in ways i can't reach with a step-ladder."

Once more, Denise didn't downplay the significance of the statement. She's a class act, so she didn't wave her hands as if the ability to have intercourse wasn't important. Um. An important part of their relationship.

"I dunno," she said. "Sometimes I think he only looks to me to find the things that are missing from your relationship with him."

I didn't know what to say to that. I was pretty sure it wasn't true, but anything i said would sound defensive or dismissive. Lucky for me, I didn't have to. Carla started laughing.

We turned to stare as she drove.

"Sis, you've only rarely been a complete idiot. But good Christ, this is one of those times." She laughed some more. I turned to look at Denise in confusion. She put a hand next to me, a finger touching my hip. I stroked her knuckle. We turned to stare at Carla, a little impatiently.

"Denise, my little sister, anyone that's seen Ray within five feet of you knows that you own 90% of his soul." I couldn't exactly argue so i didn't. But Carla wasn't finished. She reached down to tap my hand on Denise's. "And you, Annie, own 90% of his soul."

"Um..."

"Shut up," she told us. "It's emotion math. It doesn't have to make sense in some statistic sense. He loves Annie when he's thinking about Annie, he loves Denise when he's thinking about Denise. If he sees both of you, he loves both of you. He loves Pet in there somewhere, too.

"He's loved Annie longer, sure. But at five foot whatever, he's loved Denny longer, too." She pulled in front of our house. Her car was in Denise's usual parking space. She leaned over to kiss her sister on the cheek. She said thanks for the pick-up, Denise said thanks for bringing Pet, the usual goodbyes...

Then we were alone in the car.

I looked up at my owner's owner and her thoughtful expression.

"I never knew you felt jealous of me, Denise." I shook my head. "That's not quite true. I thought, if anything, you'd be jealous of me and Ray, not me and Pet."

"No, I'm never..." She shook her own head. "Okay, maybe sometimes. You two are just...so together."

"I have him well trained," I admitted. "But you have to remember one thing. We're together by accident. He sought you out."

She smiled. "Well. Pet and I thought you two would be fun to get to know. And I'm the one that sought him out."

"And he let you! He jumped at the chance and hasn't come down since!" I jumped down from the cup holder to the shifter to run up her leg. She lowered her wrist and helped me up to her shoulder. "You know, of all his girlfriends, only one's ever dumped him. It's usually him that ends a relationshp."

"Annie, I'm not interested in Ray's past loves."

"It's not the girls I'm talking about," I said. "It's the relationships. They were all wrong for him. Either they wanted to play with or own a sylph, and they put up with him to get Annie time, or they wanted him and were willing to put up with me. Or one or two wanted him, and thought he'd give me up for their sake.

"You're about the first to take him, and me, and our relationship at face value, and NOT run screaming off into the sunset."

I stroked at the big cheek before me, ignoring the sniffles off to the side. "You see Ray as Ray, right? Not the person who owns Annie." She nodded. "And you see me as Annie, as a friend of Ray's, not as Ray's emotional baggage, former girlfriend, stuff like that?" Another nod. I stood on tippy toe to speak directly into her ear, tugging gently on the lobe.

"Then please, trust me Denise, he likes you as much as he does because he sees you, and Pet, the same way. He's told me so." The sniffles got louder. "We need to get inside and rehydrate you, girl. But, anyway. Carla's probably right. Ray likes intelligent women, we're both intelligent women, we share that part of his soul. He likes to pun, we don't beat him with sticks for punning, another share. Ray likes redheads, you're slightly in the lead on that one. He also likes women who can fit in his pocket. And sorry to say, i'm way, way, way ahead of you on that one." That got a laugh out of her.

"Oh, Annie. What did i do to deserve a friend like you?"

"Well, in the choice of friend or rival, sweetheart, you picked friend." I grabbed the collar of her blouse and swung down to her wrist. I eased Pet into my lap so Denise could free one hand and get us inside the house. "Which is good," I said, "because I'd hate to have had to beat you up."

She laughed and opened the door. "Come on. Let's put Pet to bed and wipe our eyes before our husband gets home," she said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, looking up at her. "But you're kind of blurry at the moment. Maybe you should lay down?"



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