Chanteuse

A week later Violette sat at the bar in the Blue Owl, sipping a cup of coffee and glancing at the receipts for the previous night.  Business had been fairly good over the past few months, and while she no longer sang on stage, she liked to keep an eye on things. “Things been quiet today, Raymond?” she asked the bartender.

Raymond shrugged sourly, but nodded. Raymond was a short, grizzled feline who, rumor had it, had been tending bar since the 1920s. There was a story, never verified, that had Raymond throwing a noted American writer out of the establishment for being a ‘dirty foreigner.’ “Quiet enough,” he admitted, and tossed something onto the bar. “This came in the mail this morning, addressed to you. No last name.” He turned away to put up some glasses, and Violette reached for the object.

It was an envelope, addressed simply to Violette, care of the Blue Owl Bar, Paris. The mouse frowned and used one claw to slit it open.  She then fished out a letter, and her mouth went dry as she read the contents:

Paris, 22^nd July

My dear Violette,

I pray that this letter finds you well, and I hope that you still remember me.  I shall be staying at the Hotel Odeon until August 10^th, and I want so much to see you.

Luise Ritter

“Good news, boss?” Raymond asked as he returned from putting up glasses. He frowned at the fixed expression on Violette’s face and waved a paw across her face. “Hello, Violette? Is everything all right?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, Raymond, everything is fine, just fine,” she said hastily, snapped out of her reverie. Her sex ached and she felt wet as her thoughts churned. A moment of thought and she reached over the bar for the telephone. She perched the handset on her shoulder and folded the letter as she dialed the operator. “Hotel Odeon, please,” she said. “Yes; I’ll wait, thank you.”

Raymond glanced over at her as she smoothed her free paw over her blouse. Something had the boss ruffled, but he knew better than to ask. Maybe she had a lover somewhere, but he couldn’t imagine her being unfaithful to her husband.  Yves was a lawyer, but a good sort otherwise. “Hello, Hotel Odeon?” Violette asked into the phone. “May I be connected to the room for Luise Ritter? Thank you,” and she tapped a foot against the bar as she waited, nibbling her lower lip with her front teeth. Suddenly her ears perked and she cleared her throat, then said, “Hello, Luise? It’s me, Violette. I got, um, your note and, ah, I was wondering where we could, uh, meet,” she stammered as she caught Raymond’s smirk. This wouldn’t do at all, she thought irritably; here she was thirty-five years old and acting like a blushing teenager. “Hotel bar at eleven? I’ll be there. Yes, goodbye,” and she slowly hung up the phone.

“Good news, I take it?” Raymond asked, and he raised a brow as Violette suddenly smiled. “The best news ever,” she said.

She stepped out to the street and hailed a cab, the driver gracefully accepting a ten-franc note and taking off into the traffic flow like one of the new jet fighters. They arrived some minutes later at the hotel, and Violette settled the bill, adding a tip that made the cabdriver smile.

The hotel was quiet as she walked through the lobby, her low-quarter shoes making soft clicking sounds as she walked to the bar and took a seat. She signaled to the bartender and said, “A glass of red wine, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the squirrel behind the bar said, adjusting one of the thin black garters on the sleeve of his immaculate white shirt.  The wine arrived in moments and she sipped at it while she waited, the clock over the bar’s mirror ticking away slowly.

Violette tried to will it to go faster, as the wine buzzed softly in her blood and she fancied she could hear her heartbeat down in her sex. Why was she reacting like this? They had known each other for exactly one night, fifteen years ago.

“Un vin rouge, s’il vous plait,” came a voice in heavily accented French, and Violette paled under her fur. She looked to her left and saw her sitting at the stool next to hers, smiling at her. “Hello, Violette,” Luise said.

The German Shepherd looked as if the years weighed on her, but not very heavily. Traces of gray were in her fur on either side of her muzzle, but she looked much the same as she did that night in 1944. She was dressed in a pleated skirt that extended below her knees and a patterned blouse that was large enough to successfully camouflage her charms. Her wine was set before her and she sipped at it as she returned Violette’s stare. “You look as magnificent as you did when I first saw you,” Luise whispered.

“As do you, my dear Luise.”  Everything in Violette yearned to touch her, hold her, and make love to her right on the bar.  She controlled herself with some difficulty and sipped her wine. “Tell me,” she said finally, “what have you been doing? It’s been a long time; we really should get caught up.”  Luise smiled, then grinned and chuckled, and that broke the ice. The two started laughing, then hugged. “I missed you so much,” the canine whispered in Violette’s ear.

“I prayed for you – all during the war,” Violette whispered back. As they separated she asked, “So?  Tell me all.”

Luise explained that her unit had been in a few narrow escapes; as a clerk in a headquarters company, she never saw much action apart from the occasional air raid. “Finally we surrendered to the British just before the end,” she said. “My commander didn’t want to see any more of us get hurt.”  She sighed and sipped her wine, licking her lips after swallowing. “I went home after six months in a displaced persons camp.” Her eyes took on a slightly haunted look, and Violette covered her paw with one of her own. “I heard – it was really bad right after the war, wasn’t it?” she asked.

Luise sighed, and looked into her eyes. “I won’t lie to you. It was hard, very hard,” she admitted. “A struggle just to survive, but with help we have gotten back on our feet.” A smile, and Violette’s heart gave a jump. “I now work for an auto manufacturer, as a sales representative.  This is my first vacation in – well, ever, and I chose to come here to find you.”  She ducked her head and looked at the mouse abashedly as her ears dipped. “I love you, Violette.”

The mouse simply stared for several heartbeats, then hugged Luise. “I love you too, Luise.” She felt tears sting her eyes as she tightened her embrace. “I – I guess I knew it that night.”

The canine nodded, tears brimming in her eyes as well. She raised her glass of wine, took a deep breath, and looked straight into Violette’s eyes. “To Violette...who taught me to take risks and enjoy myself,” and she sipped at her wine.

The mouse grinned back, and raised her own glass. “To Luise...who taught me to love females who are secretly kinky,” and she giggled as she drank off her glass. The two of them laughed, and Luise threw a few bills on the counter to pay for both of their drinks. “Come,” she said, “let’s go upstairs to my room. I’m sure we have a lot to talk over.”

“Yes, let’s,” and the two females headed out of the bar to the elevators.

The elevators were of a modern design, not the old-fashioned bird cages that enabled people to see what was going on inside.  The instant the doors closed the two were in each other’s arms, Luise’s paws running up Violette’s rear to hug her fiercely as the two kissed openmouthed. She whispered something indistinct in German before breaking the kiss to nuzzle her, licking at one of the mouse’s cuplike ears. “I love you,” she whispered in husky tones.

Violette shivered. Her ears were her most ticklish spot.  She returned the hug, taking advantage of her smaller size to nuzzle along the canine’s neck and nipping at sensitive spots until Luise moaned, her ears laying back. She backed the German up against the side of the elevator car and grabbed her wrists in one of her paws. It was difficult, since the canine was larger than she was, but she stretched and placed Luise’s crossed wrists over her head as she nipped at her throat and her free paw slid up her right thigh under her pleated skirt. “Do you remember this, Luise?” Violette asked, cupping the larger female’s mons and pressing gently.  Moisture and warmth radiated against her palm.

Luise moaned and shivered, murmuring, “I remember...ohh, Violette, it’s been so long...” She gasped as Violette’s paw wormed its way under her panties to stroke upward along her outer folds.

The elevator car dinged, and Luise gasped again as Violette released her, pulling her paw free just an instant before the doors slid open.  The feline who walked by them sniffed as he entered the car, then sniffed again and his eyes went as wide as saucers as the doors closed.  The two females started laughing, and Luise led the way to her room.

Luise opened the door on a spacious, well-appointed room dominated by a large four-poster bed. “So, what have you been doing here in Paris?” Violette asked as she sat on the edge of the bed. “When did you arrive, and how long will you be staying?”

The canine grinned, and started ticking off answers on her fingers. Trying to get up the courage to contact you, I got here on the nineteenth, and I have to be back at my desk by August twelfth.” She unbuttoned her blouse and removed it along with her brassiere. “I also took the time to see the sights – I didn’t have time to, before,” she added. She smiled. “What have you been doing since we met, Violette?”

The mouse smiled and gestured for her to come closer; Luise stood before her and moaned softly as Violette gently stroked the fur under her breasts.  “I kept singing at the bar, even after the Liberation.  Armand died in 1950 – ”

“He did? What a shame. I thought he was funny.”

“And the bar came to me. And, ah, I got, um, married back in ’48,” Violette concluded in a rush, looking up at Luise as the exposed skin of her nose and ears darkened in a blush.

The canine blinked down at her. “Married?” she echoed. “Does he know about...us?” she asked.

“Yes,” and Violette giggled. “I also discovered something.” She waved for Luise to bend over, and whispered conspiratorially, “I like to be tied up and spanked as well, and he enjoys spanking me.” She blushed again as Luise gaped openmouthed at her, then the two females started laughing. Luise grinned and took hold of Violette’s paws in her own, and hauled her to her feet. Running her muzzle along the sensitive edge of her left ear she whispered, “I think you might need a spanking now, my dear little mouse.”

Violette shuddered, squirming in a halfhearted attempt to free herself. “Oui, Madame,” she replied, and giggled as Luise released her and pointed silently at her dress.  Violette stripped down to her fur and allowed Luise to steer her over to the foot of the bed. “Grab the bedposts, dear,” the canine breathed, and went over to her bureau while Violette held onto the bed, breathing heavily.  She blinked and looked up as Luise grabbed at her wrist.

A gaily-colored silk scarf went around her left wrist, tied snugly but not tight enough to cut off her circulation.  AS she watched, Luise tied her other wrist to the bed, then Violette moaned softly as a pair of strong paws caressed her ass. “I think you’re ready for a spanking, little one,” Luise said in a quiet tone, and there was a swishing sound, followed by the smack of a leather belt against the softest part of Violette’s rear.

It was more sound than fury, but the mouse squealed and moaned as she danced at the end of her bound wrists while Luise struck her with the doubled band of leather. The canine grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close and smacking her buttocks while her free paw held the mouse’s naked tail out of the way.  While she spanked her, Luise hissed in Violette’s ear, “Do you like that now, little one? Do you like the feel of my belt?  Are you going to come for me?”

Violette shuddered and moaned, gasping under the harsh spanking and feeling herself tensing inside, like a tightly-wound spring in her cunt that grew tighter, and tighter still until Luise dropped the belt, slid to her knees and thrust her tongue deep into her lover’s sex.  Her front teeth rubbed against Violette’s clit, and the bound femme ground her teeth together to stifle her scream as she orgasmed hard, hips bucking against her lover’s muzzle.

When she finally sagged, arms stretching the scarves, Luise stood to catch her and untie her, then helped her lie facedown on the bed while Violette got her breath back. As she flopped over on her back, Luise ran a paw over belly, tracing the juncture between Violette’s gray and white furs. “Did you enjoy that, love?” Luise asked, smiling as she licked her muzzle clean.

Violette grinned and chuckled weakly, nodding as she reached up with one paw and stroked Luise’s head. “Loved it, Luise,” she said. “What would you say to dinner tonight? I want you to meet my husband.”

* * *

Two excited telephone calls and a long shared bath later, Luise and Violette stood outside the hotel as a cab drove up and pulled to a halt at the curb. The doorman smiled and opened the door, and Yves grinned out at them. “Get in here, you two,” he said. “Our reservation is for six.” As Luise stepped in first, Yves held her paw, and with Gallic charm brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Enchanté, you must be Luise,” he said cheerfully as he helped his wife in and the doorman closed the door. The cab roared off down the boulevard as Yves added, “Violette’s told me quite a lot about you.  I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Luise’s blush caused her nose to darken, and her ears dipped. “How much is quite a lot, Yves?” she ventured.

Yves merely grinned, and winked at his wife.  Luise looked from one to the other, then all three started laughing.

Dinner was at an above-average restaurant on the Left Bank, and all three were relaxing after eating, sipping at their coffee and cordials when Yves noticed a mischievous look enter his wife’s eyes. She whispered something in Luise’s ear, then glared at her when the canine opened her mouth as if to protest. Luise looked embarrassed and got up, saying she needed to use the restroom. “What did you say to her?” Yves asked.

“Never mind, darling,” Violette replied sweetly. “You’ll find out.” Her husband narrowed his eyes at her, but went back to sipping at his Cointreau as Luise came back and sat down.

The conversation drifted into what Luise was doing at her work when Violette casually slid a paw under Luise’s skirt.  The canine stiffened, and Violette said in a shocked stage whisper to Yves, “Yves – can you imagine it?  Luise’s not wearing any panties. And,” she grinned at him, “you should feel how wet she is. Shocking,” and she chuckled as Yves gaped and Luise blushed, her head down. Violette raised two wet fingers to her lover’s nose. “Be a good girl, Luise, and lick,” the mouse said softly, and smiled as the canine obeyed.

Yves shifted in his seat, and raised a paw to signal the waiter. When the weasel came over he said, “We’ll have the check, please. And hurry.”

* * *

“What a nice place you have here, Violette,” Luise said as they entered the house. “A definite improvement over your old apartment,” and here she smiled at her lover.

“Wait until you see the bed,” Violette said as Yves locked the door and took his wife’s arm, then hooked his arm in Luise’s and started to lead her to the bedroom. “Stop,” Violette said suddenly, before they had gotten halfway down the hall. “What’s the matter, love?” Yves asked.

“We need to dress – or rather undress – for this occasion, Yves,” she replied, grinning as she turned around. “Unzip me, please, Luise?  Yves, would you help Luise out of her clothes?” she asked, looking behind her with a coy glance through lowered eyelashes.

Yves grinned. If his wife wanted to stage-manage things, so much the better. He drew down the zipper on Luise’s skirt, then unclasped it and it slid to her feet as he reached behind her and started unbuttoning her blouse. His palms brushed purposefully over her nipples as they poked at her bra and he chuckled at the soft sound she made in the back of her throat. He unclasped the bra – it was the kind that opens in the front – and stepped back as she slipped off her shoes.  He disrobed as Violette, now completely unclothed, grabbed Luise’s paw and led her off to the bedroom.

Yves gathered up the discarded clothing, his erection starting to reach clear of his sheath as he walked into the bedroom and stopped, eyes going wide.  Luise lay on her back on the bed, her wrists tied to the headboard while she lapped at Violette’s cunt. His wife whimpered and squirmed on her lover’s muzzle as she finished tying the canine’s ankles to the footboard, then straightened up and beckoned to Yves.  Her back arched and she moaned, shaking slightly as she climaxed on Luise’s tongue while Yves climbed between the canine’s legs and pressed his muzzle to her sex.

He lapped at her, tasty the spicy musk of her arousal and licked deeper, spreading her lips apart with his fingers to get deeper.  Luise squirmed on the bed, her tail batting at her inner thighs and tickling Yves’ chin as his paws slid under her to cup her buttocks and pull her up to his mouth. She was beginning to climax when Yves felt a tap on his head. Looking up, he saw Violette shaking her head; he nodded and sat back as his wife got up, stroking her mound with a dreamy look on her face. “Oh, that was very good, Luise,” she whispered. “You have the most lovely mouth.”

Luise moaned, frustrated; her hips bucked up, practically begging Yves to mount her. He got on all fours between her legs, keeping his erection away from her folds, then said softly, “Say ‘Fuck me,’ Luise. Say it.”

The canine closed her eyes tightly, resisting even as she grinned, then groaned as Violette bent down and started licking and nipping at her nipples, paws filling with her breasts. Yves rubbed the moist head of his cock against her folds and said, “Say it, Luise, or else.”

Luise tossed her head and whispered “No,” even as she tried to lunge forward to trap his cock. Yves withdrew, then rubbed against her cunt’s entrance again.  He took hold of his shaft and tapped it against her clit, causing her to gasp and whimper. Finally she whispered, “Fuck me.”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you,” Yves teased as his wife continued to play with Luise’s breasts, nuzzling and nipping at her neck and throat.  The bound canine whimpered, fur fluffing as she shivered. “Fuck me,” she said louder, “please fuck me.”

Yves grinned and thrust into her, one long thrust that only stopped when he could go no farther, then pulling back almost out of her before thrusting back in.  His pace was fast, deep and deliberate, his naked tail thrashing and coiling around Luise’s feet as he arched, rubbing against her pubic bone and causing his balls to smack against her folds.

Luise squealed at the initial thrust, then moaned a high keening note as Violette mounted her face, facing away from her husband as she rode her lover’s muzzle.  Luise licked and moaned and nipped and whimpered as she neared her orgasm, finally arching and shaking as she climaxed, her paws curling into fists and her arms and legs pulling on the silk cords that bound her to the bed.  Violette came all over her lover’s face even as Yves groaned and slammed all the way to his sheath into the canine, filling her with his seed before half-collapsing onto her, his face nestled in his wife’s rear.

Some time later the two mice released their lover, and the three of them tumbled on the bed, hugging each other and kissing.  Yves ran his fingers over Luise’s and his wife’s breasts as he said to the canine, “You should move out of your hotel, Luise. There’s plenty of room here, and you’re welcome to stay until your vacation is over.” Violette nodded, and Luise replied, “All right.”

The person who related this story to me, Violette and Yves’ daughter, went on to tell me that the three of them (soon four; Luise married in 1962) would meet every summer. Luise’s husband divorced her in 1973, after giving her two fine sons; Yves died in 1990 of a stroke.

Violette and Luise live together now, in a nursing home outside Strasbourg.

The End