Friday WWM(CE)

By Rod Ramsey

© 2003, all rights reserved.

In FDWritings, Arty cried hysterically:
>*Shouts* Rod, I think we need another ceremony.

>Friday is no longer a Junior Muse she's now a:
>Web-Mistress Muse (Chocolate Edition)

>I invite you all to offer your congratulations to

>Friday WMM(CE)

>Arty
>(Who's _very_ happy now!)

Have you ever seen a dragon in a tuxedo. Don't laugh. Whatever you do, don't laugh. I just finished putting out some unfortunate soul with a fire extinguisher and do not look forward to doing it again.

A regal looking female muse stood on the dais, wings fluttering in annoyance as the crowd took its own sweet time settling down. I put the fire extinguisher away and headed for the bar, knowing that the ceremony would start later rather than sooner. Friday was still licking some residual chocolate off a well-built Adonis of a muse in the back corner as I opened my beer.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready? You're already late for your own coronation as Web-Mistress," I said to her as she sucked a drop of syrup off his nipple.

"Party pooper," she replied, returning to the god-like muse.

He reached around Friday, sticking his large tanned hand out. "Mark, Mk I. But you can call me Mark," he said introducing himself.

"Ah yes. Mark's muse. I should have known by the surfer look," I replied, shaking his hand.

"I just call him Mr. Yummy," Friday giggled.

I was just about to make some smart-alec reply when Kira and Dana showed up and took Friday by the arms. Kira winked at me as they led her away.

I found my seat and was sipping my beer, waiting for the start when a cat jumped into my lap.

"Meow," Cat said, snuggling on my lap.

"Meow, yourself Cat. Can't you go sit on Tony's lap instead. You're going to get me in trouble sitting on mine," I replied.

"Trouble's my middle name," she said, rubbing against me and making it hard to concentrate on my beer.

Yes that's it. Focus on the beer, not the lovely creature rubbing her body against me. Don't listen to the purring sound she's making. Don't let the softness distract you. No, no, no. Damn! Just as I was reaching to pet the pussy, she slipped off my lap and stalked away. Her body moving lithely through the crowd as she snuck up on her next prey. Poor unsuspecting Arty.

[Ahem]
"Good Afternoon everyone," the regal muse announced. "As you know Friday has studied hard and has progressed to the point of becoming a Web-Mistress
Muse in her own right. It is with great pleasure that we make this honorable title official. Sorry but there will be no chocolate covered Friday for you to molest this time."

An audible groan is heard with that announcement. It quickly quiets as Friday is brought out onto the stage. She is wearing a white gown and appropriately enough a slightly bent and tarnished halo sits upon her short dark hair. A large white box is carried out by Mark and another male muse I don't recognize. Kira and Dana, pull the gown from her body, then kneel at her feet.

"As President of the English Speaking Muse Society, it is my honor to welcome you into our world as a full fledged muse." The muse paused for effect, then continued, "Friday, do you willingly accept the rules and agree to abide by the doctrine of our society?" she asked.

"Do I get wings this time?" Friday asked.

"Answer the question and you will find out."

"Yeah, sure. I'll be a good Web-Mistress Muse," she replied. "It should be amusing."

"Close your eyes."

When Friday's eyes close, the muse nods to Mark and the other male muse. Lifting from the box a set of white feather and silver glitter wings, they approach Friday. The young woman/muse giggles and shivers as they settle the wings on her shoulders. Mark reaches around to fasten the buckle in front. As his hands leave her body the harness fades to match her skin.

"Open your eyes Friday," the muse instructs her.

"So when do I get my wings?" Friday asks with a pout.

"Look."

Friday turns her head to look at the wings sitting on her shoulders. A broad smile fills her face as she reaches to touch the soft material. Kira and Dana stand up, wings sprouting from their shoulders. They take Friday by the hand and begin to float up, wings beating slowly in the warm air.

"Oh my God," Friday squeals as her feet leave the earth.

Friday whooping and hollering as she performs swoops and rolls. The three muses make two full circuits of the room before settling back on the stage.

Tears stream down her flushed cheeks, she sits on the edge of the stage. She smiles at those of us in the V.I.P. section.

"Thank you so very much," she says quietly. "I've always wanted wings."

-- The End --

From the back some clown calls out in a loud voice, "Red Bull!"