CHERILICIOUS SWEET

29. CHERI ME BACK

That night, after a long bath, a good lotioning, and a short session with my wall dildo, which Cheyenne and I cutely named "Walldee", I put on a clean, pink satin nightie, and sunk into the bed for a long, hard sleep, and dreamt about ten beautiful penises and palm trees.

I awoke the next morning to the sunlight shining into my pretty pink bedroom, and the sound of leaf-blowers out in the neighborhood. I had slept so well, I didn't wake up at my customary time, but knew I had the day to myself, so I remained in bed. With a broad smile, I recapped the happenings of the week. Checking in with Cheri-Licious, I enjoyed reading all of the wonderful things Henry said about my service to him and his friends at the 'sleepover' event. I especially got tingly when he said with certainty that I would be a key part of next years event and that they came away with a lot of great ideas for me next time.

I texted Ms. Peterson to let her know I had found even more cash from the tips the men left me, and could bring to her. I asked if it was ok that I brought it to my next day of work, which was tomorrow.

She responded back that I could keep it, and that she needed to see me at her front door sometime today, and that I shall text her when I was ready, but that there was no hurry.

This was an unusual thing for her to say. Normally, she would have me come over, as I had made it customary to walk directly across the deck and into her house.

I got out of bed, and after enjoying Walldee, I put in a large vibrating butt plug, did my hair and makeup, put on a cute tiny ballerina skirt that left my butt exposed, pink tights, a pink striped crop top, and white four inch sandal heels. This was more casual attire for me, as I had no plans to go anywhere.

I texted Ms. Peterson that I was on my way, and then made my way to her front door.

After just a few moments of waiting in the chilly autumn air, Ms. Peterson came to the door, dressed beautifully in a floral dress, white pantyhose, and pink heels perfectly matching a splash of the floral pattern on her dress. I looked her directly in the eyes, and she appeared as though she had been crying.

"Um-is everything ok Ms. Peterson?" I asked, concerned about the sadness in her eyes.

"No, Cheri. Everything is not ok." She replied, and reached over next to the door to grab something.

Before I could respond, she produced my, or rather Shane's old skateboard and handed it to me.

"What...what is this for, Ms. Peterson?" I replied perplexed, as she pushed it forward to me.

"This is yours. You have successfully worked off your debt, and you're now free from your obligations to me, Cheri."

"What? No....No Ms. Peterson, that can't be so! The...the rent on the apartment? The implants? The...the management of events? The...the...the, all the lessons? I surely have a long way to go Ms. Peterson. I can't have paid it off."

"Take the damn skateboard and go Cheri! You're done! It's all paid off! Here!" She said, now tears running down her face, she shoved the skateboard into my hands, forcing me to take it. Then from the entry table, picked up a spreadsheet with several pages and shoved that into my hands too.

"GO!" She said insistently, frightening me a little. "You have until the end of the month to find a new place and go on about your life. You are free to be Cheri, or Shane, or whoever the fuck you want to be, now GO!"

There was nothing I could say. I was welling up, and tears were starting to run down my cheeks. I looked down at the skateboard. I barely recognized it. I certainly didn't want to have anything to do with it. It looked dirty and gross, but I took it nonetheless and walked down the path toward her driveway. I could hear Ms. Peterson sobbing behind me but I kept walking, wiping the tears from my cheeks as they flowed.

At the driveway I got to Ms. Peterson's SUV and stopped walking. I looked down at the skateboard, then up to the windshield, recalling the day this had all started, and in that flash of recollection, realized that Ms. Peterson was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing that fateful day, with newer white pantyhose of course. I started to walk again, my heels click-clicking on the pavement of the driveway, but then stopped again and looked back at Ms. Peterson who was at the door still with her head in her hands, weeping. I looked down at the skateboard, then back up at the SUV, then to Ms. Peterson.

My eyes locked on Ms. Peterson, on her front stoop crying. I wiped the tears from my eyes, then took the skateboard in both hands and threw it as high as I could into the air. The skateboard came down with a crash and shot right into the windshield of Ms. Peterson's pearl white Cadillac SUV. I stood, stonefaced, staring at her as the shards of glass bounced off of the car's hood and around my feet.

The sobbing stopped. Ms. Peterson looked in surprise at the damaged car, then at me. A subtle smile crossed her face. The smile turned to an inauthentic scowl. Ms. Peterson shouted to me, waving her very pretty pink fingernail at me, as she walked down the path toward the driveway, "Cheri! You reprobate PUNK! Look what you've done! You WILL be by my house tomorrow morning, 9 AM, to settle this matter! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD???" A smile was hiding very closely behind her scowl as she said this.

I started sobbing uncontrollably, through my smile, and as I was walking toward her on the walkway, responded, "Yes Ma'am. I will be there a 9 AM sharp Ma'am, and I will do whatever I need to do to pay you back for this."

Our tears had both started to flow again when met on the walkway and embraced in a long, tight hug, beautiful hug.

THE END