Harmony University: Blind Streak

As birthday’s went, Wildfire’s sixteenth party had been a pretty good one.

The Manehatten track team she ran with had all pitched in and gotten her a mug that said, in braille, ‘you didn’t see that coming’, a reference to how fast she could run. Her best friend, Air Raid, had gotten her an audio version of her favourite play, ‘The Tempest’. Best of all – not counting a mountain of junk food and cake, of course – had been the new running shoes from her parents, with springy things in the heels.

After the party, when her friends had all gone and a very happy Wildfire was sat on the leather couch in the living room of her home, a living room decorated with balloons and birthday banners, she was basking in the afterglow of a great July day when she heard familiar footsteps coming towards her over the lacquered hardwood floor. “Hey dad,” she didn’t wait for him to announce himself; she knew the sound by now.

Judging by the relaxed cadence of the footsteps, she knew she wasn’t in trouble, so she relaxed on the couch and helped herself to a piece of her birthday cake she had bought with her from the kitchen. It had been lucky enough to survive the cake massacre of the party, now its luck had ran out. “What’s up?”

Heatwave paused between the couch and the double love seat that was his and Fireflight’s seat of choice. He had been treading lightly and she still heard him. The thought his daughter was a miniature intruder alarm amused him no end. “Wily, can we talk to you, honey?”

About to answer her dad, Wildfire heard a second set of footsteps enter the living room. Lighter and shorter than her dad’s had been, she would’ve recognised the owner a mile away from her perfume alone. “Hey mom,” she greeted her mother before shovelling in another piece of her cake, “Something wrong?”

Since the party had ended, Heatwave had removed his tie and stood by his wife in just his black pants and white shirt – despite being told to dress ‘casual’ – while Fireflight had remained for the moment in her violet dress that still bore the evidence of a teenager’s birthday party upon it. Between them, they shared a look of ‘united front’. “Wily,” the red skinned man started, “Nothing’s wrong. You've asked why you hear noise from our bedroom, and said it worried you. I' said we'd tell you later, and your mom said that you shouldn't be worried. Well, you're sixteen and it is later. Do you still want to know?”

“Yuppers dad, I wanna know,” Wildfire, who had been planning to spend the rest of the day enjoying one of her braille books, instead sat up all alert and eager. She had been hearing strange noises from her parents’ bedroom for years now and while they had long since stopped scaring her, she was curious as to what they were.

Taking a load off by sitting on his half of the love seat, Heatwave gave Fireflight a gentle but firm push in the small of her back. “You're the sub,” he said in his deep rumbling voice, thoroughly enjoying the look of discomfort on her face, “So you should explain. I'm listening.”

Although she was thirty six, Fireflight felt like she was suddenly back in high school being forced to take an exam she hadn’t revised for. Ignoring for the moment the glitter that stained her dress, she swallowed nervously, “As you wish, Master.” She spared him a withering look, one he returned with a smile that promised he would punish her for her impudence later and then she turned back to her daughter’s eager face. Damn it. “What did my words cause you to envision in your mind?”

“You mean, just then?” Wildfire asked, her head cocked to one side in thought, “Well, according to the dictionary, a Master is someone of great skill, like a Master Smith. Or it can be someone who has servants.”

Heatwave laughed at that and Fireflight smiled, “Well,” she said as she tugged a handful of party popper detritus from her hair and threw it at her laughing husband – if she was going to get punished, may as well make it worthwhile – before she knelt in front of her daughter, “I don't think your father is a master at a skill, and that word is not used in firefighting. I mean when I'm the subordinate as he told me I was, then he is my Master as in he owns me.”

Wow. She said it. The cat was well and truly out of the bag now, and not the one her Master usually took out of a bag.

For a moment, Wildfire toyed with the front of her red hoodie like she normally did when she was thinking about something, “So you're the second one then, mom? If dad's your Master, then you're his...slave?”

Feeling both considerably lighter now that had been revealed and like an anvil had been dropped through her gut, Fireflight nodded her head. “That is correct, dear. How do you feel about that?” she asked, rubbing the red collar she wore around her neck to assuage her nerves.

The physical reminder that she was owned, cared for and loved helped, but only just.

“Is that even legal?” Wildfire asked quickly, speaking before her brain had fully processed what her mother had said to her, “We did a bunch on slavery last year in school, and I'm pretty sure it's not.”

Finding herself in need of help, Fireflight looked at Heatwave. Her husband sighed, knowing Wildfire was right. “The selling of slaves is illegal, true, as is owning slaves,” he paused to gather his thoughts, “However, words do have many meanings. I didn't purchase your mother, but I have acquired her. Are you always my slave, love?”

“Only when we play, Master,” replied Fireflight, feeling a familiar warm fuzzy feeling spread through her tummy replacing the hole the anvil had left behind, “Such as we are doing now.”

“In your class,” Heatwave started, “What did it say about the relation between a master and a slave?”

Wildfire knew the answer to that. She had gotten a B on that test, a score she was justly proud of. “That the slaves were property of the master, the one who owned them like I own my Shakespeare books or my running shoes. And they were just as disposable,” the short girl shuddered, hating the idea that her dad owned her mother like the Old Equestrians had owned the Zebras or the Dragons had owned the Equestrians after the First War, “I'm guessing you guys don't do that, you said when you play. So, you play pretend, or what?”

Heatwave nodded, giving his permission for his slave to speak. “Yes, dear,” explained Fireflight when she was allowed, “We do a bit more than pretend. The only difference from what you said is I have a way out. I can stop the play any time I want to, but I really don't want to. Being owned by your father is me giving up total control over me to your father.”

“Some relationships vary,” put in Heatwave, proud of the way his wife and slave were explaining their relationship, “But I'm the one that starts the play, and I usually end the play. Your mother can end it, but I'd have to do something really stupid for her to do so.”

“Sooo...” Wildfire mulled that over and she connected the dots in her head and eventually she made a picture. A frankly gross picture that included adults having gross adult sex. “So those pained screams and moans from your room, the ones you said were the ghost when I was a kid, they were actually you two doing your Master / Slave play thing?”

Gross. Just…just gross! Adults having sex…eeew!

“Yes,” Fireflight admitted, her dark green skin turning a beautiful shade of red that spread over her cheeks. This conversation was more embarrassing than the time she had been made to hold her panties in her mouth all day at work, when her squad mates had assumed she had laryngitis.

Heatwave, who was enjoying his wife’s discomfort, decided to add, “Moving forward, now you know about it, we are going to be more open to you about this, but it’s not something you need to do. If you ever want to explore this, we will help you, but it is a commitment that we have to each other.”

“This is how we express our love for each other,” said Fireflight, happy now her embarrassment was at last passing. “It isn't for everyone. We just don't want to hide who we are from you now you’re old enough to understand what’s going on.”

“Alrighty,” a wide grin slowly spread over Wildfire’s face, “So the moans and screams aren't in fact Great Aunt Silverbolt come back to haunt us, dad is mom’s Master and mom is dad’s slave. I'm cool with that,” she delivered her verdict a moment later, “I mean you both seem to like it by the sounds of it, and it's a game, like you said. I guess the next question is, what do you do that makes mom make all those noises?”

Wearing a smirk on both their faces, Heatwave shared a look with his wife, leaving Fireflight to answer simply, “Sex, dear.”

The short teenager had been expecting that, but hearing it didn’t make it any better to take. “Eeeew gross!” it was enough to put her off her cake. Almost. “You...you 'do it'... eeew! Old people sex...” she shuddered, “I thought you just spanked her or something like that.”

Bursting out laughing, Heatwave said, “I do! Then that is part of sex.”

Giggling, Fireflight sank to her knees by the side of the double love seat. She would sit in it when she was allowed to and not before. “There is a lot more to sex than just intercourse, Wily.”

“A lot more,” Heatwave nodded in agreement.

“Have you ever done any Master stuff in front of me without me knowing?” asked Wildfire curiously, though she wasn’t all that sure she wanted her question answered. Her gross-o-meter was already maxed out at the revelation her parents had sex at all.

“Yes,” admitted Heatwave honestly, “But never anything obvious that you’d hear or smell. Go ahead and touch your mother's neck, and tell me if that is okay in front of you.”

“Don’t worry,” put in Fireflight quickly when she saw the hesitation in her daughter’s raised hand, “It's safe.”

Reaching up with her left hand, Wildfire carefully felt along her mother’s skin until her fingertips touched something hard. Once she found it, she used both her hands to thoroughly explore what it was. After a good long feel, she knew what it was. “You’re wearing a dog collar,” she said eventually, “Is that to show dad owns you, mom?”

“Yes, dear,” Fireflight made sure her daughter could hear the happiness in her voice so there was no ambiguity to her feelings, “It’s a mark of ownership for him, and mark of pride for me.”

“And it’s about trust, right?” mused Wildfire, weighing up everything she had heard so far, “Cos you gotta be sure that dad isn't going to hurt you too much, or do something that’s not fun.”

“Which is why I can end the play,” explained Fireflight, who was so pleased that this potential minefield of a conversation had gone as well as it had, “But I do hope he hurts me enough.”

Heatwave agreed, “I don't want to disappoint your mother.”

“Heh...” Wildfire laughed, “Well, going by those screams I keep hearing from your bedroom, you don't seem to be disappointing her, dad. Um...” a sudden thought occurred to her, a rather unpleasant one, “Do you guys do naked stuff around me?”

“No,” Heatwave answered her firmly, “We decided we weren’t going to risk a random hug from you. But now you know what we do, we may do some things around you and explain when we do them.”

At that, Fireflight shot her husband a disbelieving look, “Really?”

The dominant Heatwave shrugged, “I see no reason to lie to her, my love.”

“Good, cos dad, if you did naked stuff around me, I'd be happy I can't see it!” Wildfire giggled brightly.

“I'm sure she could hear if you walked around naked,” laughed Fireflight, her laugh only getting louder when she saw the exaggerated stern expression on her Master’s face. It let her know she was skirting the edges of what was acceptable and what was not.

“I see someone is about to enter the naughty zone,” he warned, the verbalisation purely for his daughter’s benefit.

Wildfire had her head to one side again, “What does that mean, the naughty zone?” the last time she had been in called a naughty zone, she had been banished to the lowest step on the stairs for three hours and made to sit on her hands. Apparently, drawing on the walls had been a bad thing to do, especially with permanent markers. But she had been seven then.

“The reason I spank her is for being naughty,” said Heatwave in his ever strong, low rumbling voice, “When she is about to cross the line, she is said to be entering the naughty zone, do you see?”

Fireflight playfully swatted her Master’s thigh at that, though she knew full well that Wildfire wouldn’t be offended in any way by the ‘do you see?’. She was well past that. “I think that some things should wait until your next birthday, Wily.”

On the couch, Wildfire was only too happy to go along with that. “You know what, guys? I think some things should definitely wait till my next birthday! If you two are gonna be all gross and naked, I'm gonna go up to my room and read.”

“The important think to take away is that we love each other and the both of us love you, Wily, with all our hearts.”

“Yuppers, dad,” Wildfire exclaimed, “I love you guys too!” getting off the couch, Wildfire hugged both her parents tight, “Um…” she thought of something important, very important, “Should I put my headphones on, just to be safe?”

He couldn’t resist the tease. Heatwave knew it was kind of naughty, but again, he really couldn’t resist. “Your mother's cries are sweet music to my ears, Wily,” when his wife laughed, and when Wildfire blushed, he knew he’d won. He looked forward to a high five from Red Alert when he told him this one.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire sighed on her way to the stairs, “I'll go get my headphones…”

~ ~ ~

Before anyone knew it, Wildfire’s seventeenth birthday had come and gone. Like the one before it, it had gone in a flurry of good presents and cake, karaoke so bad it was good and, from Heatwave, even worse dad dancing that no matter how hard he tried, just wasn’t good.

Good for a laugh though, and the firefighter was nothing if not accommodating in his endeavour to provide humour.

“That was a nice party,” Heatwave said once the eight teenagers had been sent home with enough cake in them to guarantee the best – or worst - sugar crash in history, “So,” he continued when they had removed themselves from the chaotic after-party kitchen to the living room, “Looking back to the last year, do you have any new questions you want to ask about what your mother and I have been doing?”

Did she have questions…oh boy did she ever have questions!

Her parents had promised they would be more open with what they did around her and, true to their word, they had been. Only the day before, Wildfire had walked down the stairs to discover slurping and snuffling sounds that had been her mother worshipping her father’s feet.

Minutes before Wildfire had come down the stairs, Heatwave had led Fireflight by the leash connected to her collar to their double width love seat in the living room, the slave obediently crawling behind her Master until he sat and beckoned her to kneel before him, which she did, even going so far as to place a respectful kiss on the toes of his boots. "Take off my boots, slave, I've had such a long hard day and I need a foot massage."

"Yes Master,” purred the very naked Fireflight adoringly, “I'll make your feet feel better." Eagerly, the submissive firefighter obeyed, unzipping his boots on the sides, and taking them off one after the other revealing her Master’s white socks. Socks he hadn’t changed or washed in four days.

Fireflight got to work first by gently massaging his left foot first through his reeking socks. Heatwave relaxed his head back and moaned in relief, quickly turning on the tv for some background noise. After five minutes, she finished massaging the foot in her hands and she let it go with a quick kiss.

She desperately wanted to suck on his toes, in fact her clitoris grew hard and began to throb at the mere idea of it, but as she wasn't given permission to do so, she managed to restrain herself, lest he do the restraining.

Moving on, Fireflight took her Master’s right foot and began massaging it just the same. "Good slave," Heatwave, who was fully into his Master role, hummed, his now relaxed left foot drifting down to the dripping wet pussy between her legs. She tried to focus on massaging his foot but he pressed his free foot against her moist crotch.

Fireflight moaned like a bitch in heat as Heatwave gently caressed her pussy with his foot. But, in all the excitement, she lost her hold on his other foot, something she only noticed when her Master lightly kicked her snatch to get her attention. "Did I say you could stop, slave?"

"No Master," Fireflight answered, wincing both at the slight pain in her pussy and at the stern tone of his voice. Quickly, she got back to her foot massaging duties. "I’m sorry, Master."

"Then carry on, slave, and beg me to shove my foot in your mouth,” Heatwave demanded with a slightly lighter kick to Fireflight’s pussy.

Wincing again, this time Fireflight made sure her hands didn't fumble. "Please Master, your slave needs your sexy foot in her mouth, please!” she begged as she used her teeth to tug off his stinking socks one after the other. It was her dream come true to service him however he wanted.

"Okay slave, if you insist,” grinning broadly, Heatwave wiggled his dirty sweaty foot in his submissive’s face, thoroughly enjoying the look of devotion on her face before he pushed his toes into her open mouth. "Now, make sure you keep massaging my other foot…” he warned, smiling at the sight of his foot pushing into her mouth.

It was, as Fireflight was sucking on her Master’s toes that Wildfire had come walking down the stairs. No sooner had she entered the living room than she both smelled her dad’s feet and heard her mother obviously tongue washing them. Used to their antics by then, she paid them no mind as she sat on the couch and put her headphones in to enjoy her audio book.

So, with that experience fresh in her mind, it was an understatement to say that Wildfire had questions to ask her parents. The only problem with asking, was the knowledge her parents would answer her and not hold anything back.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire said, “I was thinking, like...” she chose her words carefully, “Um, how do you know you two liked doing all that Master and slave stuff together? I mean, how did you go from not doing it, to doing it?”

“Hmmm,” Fireflight smiled with a look of nostalgia on her face, “That takes me way back.”

“Yeah, that was a tough time,” Heatwave, sat next to his wife, squeezed her hand supportively, quietly letting her know he was there to support her, like he always was, by her side, “You know how they say a forest fire promotes regrowth for a better forest?”

“Yuppers, that,” Wildfire nodded, “How does that relate to you two?”

Sighing deeply, Fireflight was very thankful that Heatwave was there holding her hand. “You remember the Battery fire eight years ago?” when her daughter nodded encouragingly, she continued, “I was one of the first on the scene. It was...”

When tears began streaming down her face, Fireflight went silent and Heatwave knew he would have to pick up the story. “I didn't show up until the eighth alarm was rung,” he explained, “People were jumping from fifty stories up with no hope other than falling was better than burning.” As he spoke, Fireflight choked out a strained sob, “Over three hundred died in that fire as the internal sprinkler system didn't work at all.”

“I was ready to quit the fire service after that day,” Fireflight said softly, so softly that the other two had to lean in to hear her at all, “I never felt more useless in all my life.”

“In the moment though,” added Heatwave, now with a definite note of pride in his voice at his beloved’s actions that day, “She and the rest of her team got a lot of people who were below the fire out safely. All of us were racing to put out the fire as it climbed. In the end, eighty above the fire were saved.”

“So...you felt all low,” mused Wildfire out loud as she listened to her parents telling the horrific story. She remembered it, of course she did, she had been nine then, but she still recalled that awful fire, “And that was when you started all this. I understand mom, I really do,” she hugged her mother close, “Okay, so next thing, I remember last birthday, dad saying he spanked you, and you liked it, but this past year you started doing that foot worship thing. What do you get from that?”

“To get her from that dark place, I took control,” said Heatwave, again giving Fireflight’s hand a squeeze that somehow managed to be reassuring and commanding at the same time, “That’s when the Master / Slave dynamic started. Over time, we found pleasure in aspects of that dynamic as we learned what we were doing.”

“The endorphins form being spanked are a big plus too,” Fireflight added with a small tremulous smile, “I like the restrictions of being tied up as well, and it helps that Heat loves to tie me up.”

“The foot worship started around three years ago,” put in Heatwave, “We just went public with you over the last year.”

“For me,” said Fireflight, now with a definite dreamy longing tone to her voice, “It’s a rather debasing thing, degrading and humiliating, fit for a slave to worship her Master's feet. Consider too they do all the active work through the day… now, the odour and sweat salt can be a turn off for some, but I relish in it.”

Wildfire couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing, “Oh yeah,” she sniggered and laughed, “I've heard the noises you make while you're licking dad's feet. You totally relish it alright, just like you did yesterday.”

“She has mastered how to do it sensually,” the pride in Heatwave’s voice was evident, “At first I found it ticklish, but now it’s very relaxing after a hard day. Better than the foot spa your mother bought me for my birthday.”

“I was tempted to offer my feet to her once or twice,” Wildfire giggled, “You sounded like you were really into it, too, dad.”

Now Fireflight laughed along with her daughter, “I'd be happy to wash your feet, Wily, but with my hands, in the bath. With what I do to your father, I hope you understand when I say I draw the line at my daughter.”

“What we do is not for everyone,” conceded Heatwave, “We know a few other couples that enjoy what we do, but none of us have felt the need to do it together with them.”

“Mmmm. So...” Wildfire said after considering that for a couple of moments. She had something to tell her parents, something she had been going to tell them the day before when she had walked in on her mom making like a foot spa, “I've got another thing to ask. Well, not ask, as such, but something to say, a bit of a big thing, probably too big...” she suddenly found her nerve running away from her as quickly as she covered a hundred metres on the racetrack, “I dunno…”

Fireflight snickered as a joke occurred to her, “Too big? Is it your shoe size?” she was worried she had crossed the line to naughty territory, but when Heatwave laughed, she breathed easily. For the moment.

Suddenly wishing she was a million miles away, or at least someplace else other than on the couch in front of her mom and dad, Wildfire took a big deep breath, and then she took a second and a third, “Okay…I'm gay.”

Whatever Wildfire had expected from that little revelation, her dad clapping his hands and her mother cheering like the Manehatten Sharks had just won the Megabowl was not it. “Our daughter has found her sexuality at last!” Heatwave hugged her tight, surprising her by almost dragging her off the couch.

No better than her husband, Fireflight’s hug was so tight that Wildfire ran the risk of passing out. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she gushed, her face all aglow, “Maybe Air Raid? You two do spend a lot of time together.”

“She is a nice girl,” Heatwave approved greatly, “You could do a lot worse than your pace runner for a girlfriend, Wily.”

The nervous smile that had been on Wildfire’s face slipped off just as quickly as if she’d smelled celery on her salad plate. “Air Raid's straight,” three words spoken like she was sentencing herself to life in prison. “I know for sure, cos I made a huge idiot of myself with her in the showers after our last track session.”

Instantly, Heatwave’s voice took on a serious tone, one he didn’t use all that often, “Did she stop being your friend when she found out?” When he asked that, Fireflight exasperatedly rolled her eyes at him. Then he worked out why. Air Raid had been at the birthday party.

“No!” Wildfire exclaimed quickly, “Oh no, not at all, dad, Raid's cool,” she sighed despondently, “We were showering, in the showers after the track meet cos we were all hot and sweaty, and there was a moment between us, or I thought there was a moment, and I just went and kissed her like a lovesick idiot!”

Shoulders shaking with mirth, Fireflight was only barely keeping it together, “How embarrassing!”

Blushing so hard her yellow face was tinged with red, Wildfire thrust her head back against the couch. No matter how hard she tried though, it wasn’t a portal to another world and it wouldn’t transport her away from her parents who were doing passable impressions of hyenas, “It was sooooo embarrassing, mom!”

Sympathetically, Fireflight gave her daughter a hug, and she was quickly joined by Heatwave, though their sympathies were undermined somewhat by their obvious enjoyment of their daughter’s discomfort. “So,” Heatwave said, “you don't have a girlfriend then?”

“Nopes,” Wildfire groused, crossing her arms under her small – almost non-existent – breasts, “There’s no girlfriend, there’s no hint of a girlfriend, there’s not even a sniff of a girlfriend, or of anything else, either.”

Deciding she had laughed at her daughter enough, Fireflight stroked Wildfire’s straight black hair, “Be sure to be on the lookout and ready for whatever comes your way,” she advised wisely, “Are you keeping your sexuality close to the vest?”

“This city isn't a bad place to be open about it,” put in Heatwave, who for one, loved Manehatten for its openness and acceptability, “But that’s up to you, honey.”

“I'm not scared about being open, mom,” Wildfire stated honestly, “I just thought...I dunno...I was hoping...that I'd maybe lose the whole stupid virginity thing,” after all, even Trotter on the track team had gotten laid a couple of months ago, something he never shut up about, “But uuuuUUUUGH why'd she have to be straight!?”

“All the good ones are, dear,” laughed Fireflight laughed as she affectionately straightened her daughter’s red flame styled hoodie.

“I thought that went the other way?” asked Heatwave.

“As long as she’s your friend, then take what she gives,” Fireflight advised her after giving her husband yet another roll of her eyes, “And friendship may be enough.”

“Oh, don’t worry, mom, she's still my best friend,” Wildfire stated firmly, because that she was sure of, “Which is cool. She's still my running mate, which is cooler. She's pushing me harder and harder on the track all the time. Says she wants me to get a couple of records before I graduate high school.”

“It’s good to have a friend,” Fireflight angled her head upwards and she kissed her husband and Master softly on the lips, “Or Master that pushes you like that.”

Getting up from the couch, and standing at her full four feet and ten inches, Wildfire stretched, “I'm three seconds off the one hundred metre time. It might help if she gets a crop on my ass.”

“Do you want to borrow one of mine?” asked Heatwave, genuinely trying to be helpful, while Fireflight practically fell off the love seat she was laughing so hard.

“Gee, thanks dad, that’s a great help,” laughed Wildfire, giving her parents a last hug before she decided to go and hunt down any cake that might have been left over from the party. It was a long shot, but one never knew, “I might get lucky,” she said to herself, “Not like I’ll get lucky in anything else…”