Annie LXXII: Bored

(Chronological index: Ray as College Sophomore)

Jefferson stopped by Ray's room to borrow some notes. "Oh, sure," Ray said. "Let me find them."

Since Ray used gravity as his filing system, it took some digging to get to the notes he wanted.

Jefferson stepped over to the desk and the sylph cage. "Hey, Annie!"

"Jeffy!" she shouted happily. "I'm cleaning my oven!"

"That's taken!" Ray said sharply.

"Oh. No wonder it was so easy." She curled up on her bed and stared at the wall.

"What..?" Jefferson asked. He sat down at the desk chair.

"It's her new slang term for masturbation," Ray said. Jefferson froze, wanting and not wanting to look at the caged creature more closely.

"Is she...?"

Ray was shaking his head. "Annie doesn't get enough attention during exams. So she's amusing herself by thinking up new euphemisms for self-abuse." He held a notebook up to the light, shook his head and dug further.

"Jeffy! Jeffy! Over here!" He tried to ignore her. "Jeffy?"

"You can't ignore her," Ray said over his shoulder. Jefferson turned.

Annie was standing, fully dressed and both hands holding the cage bars. "Have you ever heard of anyone say they were waxing the ceiling?"

"As a...euphemism?" he asked.

"No, no, ever. For anything. As Master said, I don't want to copy anyone."

"Um..no, Annie. I can't say that I've ever heard anyone... No, not wax the ceiling."

"Thanks!" she said. There was a pencil lead in her pocket and a yellow sticky on the floor. She made a note.

Curious despite himself, Jefferson had to ask. "How many is that, Annie?"

"Oh, you had to encourage her," Ray said. He handed a notebook over and sat on the bed. It squeaked like a trainload of slinkies falling off a mountain.

"You said I couldn't ignore her!"

"Yes, but I didn't say-"

"Putting the bird feeder under surveillance," Annie shouted, reading off her notes. "Playing my 78's at 33 and a third. Alphabetizing my mortgages. Voting for the next Pope. Giving the gerbil a Rorschach test."

"Okay, that one's funny," Jefferson laughed. Ray rolled his eyes. "Well, it is!"

"Determine the half-life of my attention span. Factor my social security number."

"You don't have a social," Ray pointed out.

"It's. A. EUPHEMISM!" she shouted, stamping her foot. Newspaper crinkled under her bare heel. "I'm not a Cardinal, either, so my Pope-vote doesn't count for shit!"

Her mood blinked like a film strip and she was back to the dry, clinical lecture. "Read tea leaves and correct the typos. Waxing the ceiling."

"And that's where I came in," Jefferson said. He used the notebook to salute Ray, blew a kiss at the sylph and made his escape.

"What do you think?" Annie asked her owner.

"Inventive," he said. "They don't all trip off the tongue...."

"Everyone's a critic," she sobbed.

"That could be one," he said. "Critiquing some poetry?"

"Critiquing bad poetry," she mused. "Critiquing Sapphic poetry for phallic imagery!"

"Sapphic?" he asked.

"Look it up," she muttered, scribbling furiously.

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

None of Ray's professors would allow a sylph on his desk during an exam. And she insisted that the dust he kicked up made waiting in his backpack in-TOL-erable.

So she had the morning, the cage and the dorm room all to herself. Four spools of different colored wires gave her something to do, though. She was threading the wires through the bars in colorful designs, mumbling to herself as she went.

"Voting for Reagan," she muttered. "No, wait. Voting for Mondale." She paused to write that one down.

Then she sat, regarding the pencil lead. The phallic shape of it. As it rested on the list of... The idea started to absorb her.

"No," she said. "I'm alone, lonely and ignored. Not horny." She took another loop of wire and examined the display she'd woven.

Her fingers squeezed the soft, smooth and firm insulation in her hand. Squeezed and released, squeezed, held and released. Felt the solid wire core inside the softer plastic wrapping. Felt along the length. The filling length of-

"Oh, stars," she spat. Well, she'd put herself 'in the mood,' she'd have to put herself to rest.

One guilty glance around the room verified no one was in it. She sat on her bed, back to the door, and lifted her skirt.

She thought about.... Hmm. Who would be helpful here? Brent? Brent was her first. She touched herself and closed her eyes.

He'd been loving and considerate. As long as his mouth was shut, anyway. The memory was clear and touching.

She started to get rather excited. But in her mind, the idiot kept talking. The sylph revolution wasn't happening and the very thought was offputting.

But she was in need. She switched to Poultry. She didn't like to. She feared too much time spent on that memory would use it up.

But he'd been strong, just as attentive as Brent. And he treated her like-

She heard a key in the doorknob. In an instant she had stood, spun, lowered her skirt and leaned against the cage bars.

"It's YOUR FAULT I'M... so... bored that...." She stopped, lowering an accusing finger.

No one was there. The door was still. She gasp, deep lungs full of air. The dorm room next door started to vibrate the walls with music. The Clash was going to Rock the Casbah.

"Fucking sylph hearing," she muttered. But that would put the blame on her. "Fucking giants with giant keys in giant locks!"

But it did show she probably needed a little privacy. She crawled out of the cage and looked around the room.

There were plenty of shadows and corners she could crouch in. But none were particularly appropriate for her mood.



Then her eyes came to rest on revered Master's bed. It would be a little irony, cheating on him, sort of, on his own pillow.

She ran across the desk and leaped to his mattress. The vicious springs hardly reacted to her landing and ignored her walking.

Annie moved to the side of the pillows away from the door and lay down.

She arranged her skirt and lifted her shirt. Poul. He'd loved her. As much as he'd allowed himself to, knowing their affair would end.

And he'd also touched her. She cupped a breast, invoking the memory. Poul thumbed her nipple, nosed at her belly button, reached down to stroke her.

Strong hands spread her thighs, a thoughtful touch spread her lips, a knowing hand found her, centered her, reached special places deep inside.

Ray looked on all of it with a loving smile. She smiled at him over Poul's shouder...

Wait, what the hell? Ray hadn't watched! Ray had barely managed to talk to them if he suspected they were sexing or about to sex or recovering from sex.

He'd watched the passion cakes...maybe that was what her mind was fixing on.

The meaningless fling the Bebeast- No. Not thinking of the Creature from The Chic Lagoon.

Whatshisname. The mole-rat hung guy from the Passion Cake. Taking her, stroking her, pushing her head into the pillow shaped mounds of butter cream icing.

"Oh, yeah, baby," she moaned, though she'd been silent on that night.

She remembered the sharp sudden smell of chocolate when they broke the candy bar.

And Ray watched. Well, that was okay, there. Even then she'd thought, this one is for you, Ray.

And he'd watched while she performed for him... And he'd licked her. In her mind, he didn't pause. He didn't fear licking up any of her partner's...icing. And he certainly didn't leave her to the Beast.

He licked and sucked and cleaned her and wiped her off and... She arched her back, pumping furiously.

And he'd held her and told her he loved her and given her a kiss off a Cloven Fruit and kissed her and-

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

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

Annie's body relaxed while her mind fumed. She was supposed to be cheating on Ray. Getting herself off to images of men that weren't Ray.

She wiped her hands off on his pillow. The sharp smell was strong to her but if he even noticed it, it'd be subtle.

And he probably wouldn't be able to smell her over his own oils covering the pillow.

Wait...that was it. The whole bed smelled like her master. No wonder he was dominating her fantasies. She slapped the pillow case.

She paused as she rearranged her skirt. If she was out for revenge.....

------

Ray staggered into the room and collapsed onto his bed. "Exams really suck the life-" Just before he hit, he realized his sylph was curled up beside his pillow.

She screamed, he flailed, they both bounced but serious calamity was avoided.

"Ow!" he snarled, grabbing his knee.

"Well," she said, "at least serious calamity was avoided."

"How do you figure?" he growled. "I can't walk on this thing!"

"But I'm okay," she said. He stared.

"Okay, good point." He lay down carefully, rearranging the pillow next to her. "So, why are you on my bed?"

"I'm sore," she said, laying back down.

"Sore?" He cupped his hands and lifted her up. "Is it your tummy?"

"No," she said.

"Well, what is it?"

She wouldn't look him in the face. It was difficult to manage as he kept turning her whole body to face him.

"It was research, okay?"

He looked at her oddly. "Research? What were you...?" She looked up as he suddenly stopped and sniffed. He lifted her to his nose and smelled her. Then he lowered his face to the pillow.

"I smell Happy Annie," he said. She blushed and looked down again. "You... You were 'researching' your list, weren't you?" He stroked her hair with a fingertip. "Is that what's sore? Poor little sylph. What can Master do to relieve your pain?"

"Nothing," she said. "I'll be fine."

"Yes, you do heal quickly," he said with a nod. She glanced up, but only got as high as his smile before she ducked her face down again.

"So...." He lowered her to the side of the pillow. "What did you learn?"

She still wouldn't look up, but she could point. "I, uh, I started there." He moved her close enough that she could see the stain.

"What did you do there, little sylph?"

"I...challenged my shadow to a duel."

"Nice." He slid her along the length of the pillow.

"That's where I conjugated my apathy." He nodded again. "Turned my champion cockroach out to stud.

"Taught my pet rock to sit and stay.

"Polished grandma's tombstone."

"Eugh!"

"Shut up! They're not ALL meant for everyone to use!"

He shrugged and moved her to the other side. His breath was hot and humid, crossing over her body as he moved her around. She realized she didn't need to match the stains. He couldn't see them. So she just started firing off phrases.

"Um... I calculated the half-life of my attention sp-Oooh. Shiny!

"Sterilized the bong here. There I vitiated the nurse. Low, low, low impact aerobics along there."

"How low did you go?"

"All the way down, Master. All the way down."

"You're getting me very hot, little sylph," he said.

She put her hands to her lap and bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Master, but I'm unable to do anything about that. All wore out and..." She stuck out her lip. "I'm all hurty in my no-no place."

The bed squeaked as he squirmed around. There didn't seem to be any comfortable position. "I could kiss it and make it all better?" he begged.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I need to stay off of it. For a while."

"Oh, god," he muttered, rubbing himself on the mattress. "Is this some sort of diabolical, twisted, mean-spirited and malevolent form of revenge for not paying attention to you all week?"

She smiled and kicked her feet back and forth. "I'm not mad at you, Master. You're paying plenty of attention to me......now...."

He groaned and twisted some more. She licked her lip and watched.

"You know, Thomas has the night shift in the studio... Out til midnight."

"Wow," she said softly. "My no-no may be yes-yes by....one."

"ONE!?"

"It was a lot of research, Master." She lifted the hem of her skirt. "See how red and...angry... I am..."

"Actually," he said. She waited patiently. His thumb rose to press her shoulder, tipping her onto her back over his palm.

"Actually, I think it looks...sad."

"Sad?"

"All...pouty."

"Ah."

"I think I can cheer you up," he said softly.

"I don't know..." She chewed her lip. "I’m sad." Two fingertips touched her knees lightly, gently spreading them. "Reaaaaaaally sad."

He kissed her shins, her knees. Lips lightly brushed her inner thigh.

"Nobody knows, the trouble I've seen...." she sang. Sadly.

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