Raising Lucy

by Becca Jameson

  “Good idea.”

  “Did you see her grades? She made straight A’s. She’s bright. Even with no advanced education, she’s an amazing assistant on top of everything else. If she had been able to go to college, she could be anything she wanted to be.”

  Julius tips his head to one side. “If?”

  I shrug.

  “You realize you could make that happen for her, right? I mean if this works out.”

  I scrunch up my face. “Not sure I could do that.”

  Julius narrows his gaze. “You can’t or you won’t? Because those are very different things. I can see your mind working. Make sure you don’t smother her. She may be submissive and even a little, but that doesn’t mean you should stifle the rest of her life.”

  I shudder and then lean back and stare at the ceiling. “Right now, I’m focused on convincing her to move in with me permanently. I can’t stand that she sleeps in that damn run-down apartment every night. It’s not safe, and I don’t like it.”

  “And you think she’ll agree to move into your mansion and never leave the premises? Because that’s fucked up, and you know it.”

  Julius is right. “One thing at a time. First, I need her here in my home. I need to work with her. See what makes her hum. Then I’ll face the future.”

  “How much are you going to tell her?”

  “Not sure yet. It’s hard. I’m not sure how self-aware she is. She missed out on her entire childhood. It’s going to take some time to help her see what is clear as day to me. I promise I’ll at least explain my intentions before I move her in. I’m going to have to play with a variety of ages until we get it right. I’ll start high and move to younger ages a few days at a time.”

  “And by high you don’t mean sixteen, do you?” Julius guesses correctly.

  “No. Twelve. Before puberty. I don’t think she misses high school. I think she was hardened by then and more like an adult. It’s the years when she should have been free of responsibilities that she truly misses.”

  Julius takes another drink. “Is the release she needs strictly age play, or do you think it’s sexual?”

  “I know it’s sexual. The signs are there. She flushes when she submits to me. Hell, she flushes at other times too.”

  Julius laughs. “Roman, there are no other times with you. You’re always a Dom.”

  I shrug. “Right. Well, still, I see the signs. I’ve watched her squeeze her breasts with crossed arms and pinch her legs together. When I make her spread her knees on the pillow, she gasps. I’d give anything to see how wet she gets. It’s killing me.”

  “I admire your patience. Such as it is. I think I’ll take a household poll.”

  “About what?” I narrow eyes, knowing he’s kidding.

  “The over under on how many more days you let her live in that apartment before she’s under your roof.”

  I smirk. “Not many. I can assure you of that. I have Weston picking her up in the morning and dropping her off at night, but I hate that apartment. I hate that she’s not safe.”

  “Admit it, you’re a control freak, and you hate that she might be touching herself without permission.”

  I groan. “Don’t remind me. We’re hardly at a place in our relationship where I can command her not to masturbate. It’s too soon.”

  “I’m betting you hold out until about Friday.” Julius laughs as he finishes his drink and stands. “I need to get home. I’ve hardly seen Beck and Levi this week.”

  Beck and Levi are Julius’s roommates, for lack of a better term. Julius owns a home he inherited that’s just as large as mine. When he met Beck and Levi many years ago at the club, the three of them fell in sync together, dominating women as a team. As a group, they are formidable. Women line up to be trained by them. They do not disappoint.

  I rise with him. “Tell them hello for me and apologize on my behalf. I appreciate you stepping in for me more lately. I know I’ve been preoccupied.”

  Julius smirks. “That’s putting it mildly, but I’m glad you’ve found someone that makes you happy. I hope it all works out for you.”

  I nod and shoot him a grin. “What about you? When are you going to stop hiding behind your bachelor status and claim someone of your own?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Never, and you know that better than anyone. Once burned…”

  “Not every woman is a conniving bitch, you know. There are others out there.”

  He turns to face me again as we stroll from my office. “I’ll never know. Three months is all I’m willing to give a woman. Not a day more. They know that when they sign on with us. Beck and Levi agree. Keeps our lives uncomplicated.”

  Keeps their lives unfulfilling, but I don’t say this. He doesn’t need to hear this from me today. “Thanks for coming over. I appreciate the company.”

  “Good luck this week.”

  “I’m going to need it.” I follow him to the front door and then stare out into the night for several minutes after he leaves.

  Chapter 19

  Lucy

  * * *

  I’m emotionally exhausted. It’s Friday afternoon, the last day of my first full week of work. I made it. I’ve never worked so hard in my life. Nor have I experienced submission like this before either.

  True to his word, Master Roman has insisted I submit to him at least once every day. It feels like a bit of a stretch since truly I’m always submitting to him. He’s that kind of Dom. It never ends. But he has ordered me to my knees on several occasions. Sometimes in my office. Sometimes in his.

  Sometimes he sits next to me. Sometimes he leaves me alone with my thoughts for a while. He always insists on the same posture, back straight, shoulders back, hands clasped behind me, face toward the floor, knees parted. I’ve started to immediately slide into a zone when he commands my submission. It’s like meditating.

  He’s nosy too, always prodding into my personal life, asking me questions about my youth and why I moved to Seattle and how I’ve managed since then. I can hear the pride in his voice when he speaks about my ability to survive on my own. He’s impressed.

  The only times he has touched me have been to correct my posture and then to cup my face or grip my chin and force me to look at him when my time is up. I live for those moments. He has no idea.

  I don’t know how long this can go on. I’m exploding with desire for him. It scares me that he might not feel the same way. I have no way of knowing. This could all just be an exercise he’s putting me through that has no sexual implications for him whatsoever.

  I’ve learned how to please him more every day. I eat what Evelyn prepares without complaint. I work hard. I know he’s impressed. I stay late without a word. I’ve learned new things, especially on the computer. I’m proud of myself. I can do this. At least, I think I can.

  I’ve stopped worrying that he might fire me. My main concern now is that I’m falling for him, and I want more. I wake up most nights sweating and aroused from dreaming about his hands on my body. The idea is so farfetched, but I can’t shake it. How long can I go on like this with this unrequited lust? It could be my doom.

  “Lucy.” His voice reaches me from his office, making me jump in my seat.

  I realize I’ve been daydreaming and worry he might have noticed. I don’t shake as often as I did a week ago, but my hands are trembling as I go to him. I notice the door to his office is closed, a sure sign he intends for me to submit. I wonder if the rest of his staff knows what happens in this office when the door is locked. I have pushed that thought out of my mind a dozen times a day. No one says a word. If they suspect anything, they keep it to themselves.

  Master Roman drops my pillow to the floor and I immediately kneel before him, assuming the position he has taught me. Instant relief. As always.

  Instead of resuming his work, he continues to face me. And then he rises, and I think he might leave the room. He doesn’t though. He sets his hand on my shoulder and circles me. Slowly. Until he is back in front of me, s
troking my neck and then my cheek.

  Finally, he returns to his chair. “Look at me.”

  I lift my gaze. This is out of character for us. He’s never asked me to face him while I’m on my knees. I’m worried. I have to tip my head back a bit to meet his gaze. From his spot on his desk chair, his head is higher than mine.

  “Relax. You’re not in trouble. I have a proposition.”

  I don’t move. I don’t even breathe.

  “You realize from our work the past two weeks that you are deeply submissive, right?”

  It hasn’t been quite two weeks, but he’s right. “Yes, Sir.”

  I feel like he can see under my skin. I know he can. His gaze is intense. Heated. “I want you to explore the possibility that you are best suited as a little. Do you know what a little is?”

  “I think so, Sir.”

  “You’ve seen littles at my club.” He leans forward. “I saw you watch them play.”

  I hold his gaze, but it takes every ounce of my strength to do so without looking away.

  “You’re intrigued by the idea of assuming the role of a young girl and having someone take care of you.”

  He isn’t asking me. He’s telling me. He knows me better than I know myself. It should be unnerving. Instead I feel understood.

  “That kind of role play is intense. It takes a lot of commitment. If I lead you down that path, I have to be very careful and always aware of where you are emotionally.”

  I swallow. I have no idea where he’s going with this.

  “I want you to explore a variety of ages until you figure out what age suits you best. Everyone is different. Every little has different needs. You’re so new to the lifestyle that you can’t possibly know.

  “If you had a specific incident in your childhood that left a gap where you weren’t nurtured for a few years, I could easily pinpoint what age you need to revert to in order to find comfort in that range, but in your case, it’s your entire childhood. You missed it. No one cared for you properly. You didn’t have the nurturing other kids experience. We’ll start with age twelve, the time when you moved to Chicago.”

  I nod. It’s all I can do. Agree.

  “Without exploring the possibilities, it would be impossible for me to know what you need. Maybe you even need more than one thing. Are you willing to explore this craving?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Those two words are barely audible. I’m tense. I want this. I don’t yet know what it is, but I want it.

  “I want you to move into my home. I’ve prepared a room for you in the west wing. I want you to take the weekend to pack your important belongings and move here Sunday night.” He stops talking and watches me.

  I know my eyes are wide. I’m shocked. A million things have been running through my head, but I’m not prepared for him to suggest I move in.

  “I know it’s a huge step,” he continues. “But I’ve worked out all the details. I have a contract written up for you to look over. It basically states that I will take care of breaking your lease and removing anything from your apartment you don’t want. I will store your belongings while you live under my roof. I will provide everything you need while you’re here. Everything I’m already covering as your employer as well as room and board.

  “You will have the ability to break our agreement at any time. If for any reason, you want to leave my home or my employment, I will not stop you. And, I will provide you with the financial ability to get back on your feet in a better apartment than the one you’re living in now.”

  I blink. He’s talking slowly but it all sounds so fast.

  “I know it’s a lot to consider.” He taps a file on his desk. “I have the contract right here. I want you to take it to your office and read it over carefully. You’ll find that I’ve left nothing out. You can’t lose. The worst thing that could possibly happen is that you change your mind and move out. You’ll be better off financially. I’ve included a sizeable severance package.”

  I lick my lips. They are suddenly so dry. So is my mouth.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  About a hundred. “Why would you do this?”

  “Because my dominant side is attracted to your type of submission.” His words are vague.

  “Would we, uh…”

  “Say it,” he demands.

  I swallow. He knows what my question is. “Would we have sex?”

  “I hope so, but I’ll never pressure you.”

  I blow out a long breath. All this time I’ve been wondering if he is attracted to me in that way, unsure. He’s given me no indication one way or the other.

  He smiles. Knowingly.

  I look away. I can’t stare at his face any longer. I’m suddenly embarrassed.

  He reaches out and cups my face in that way that warms me. “You have no idea how attracted to you I am. I’ve looked for someone like you for half my life. Yes, I’d want to include sex in our relationship, but only if it suits you and not until you’re ready.”

  I’m ready now. I shudder.

  He chuckles. “Go back to your desk. Read through the contract. Mark anything you want to ask me. We’ll discuss it again when you’re finished.”

  My legs are wobbly as I try to rise, and my fingers are unsteady as I take the folder from his hand.

  Master Roman meets my gaze, not releasing the file just yet. “I’m a firm Dom, Lucy. I will demand a lot from you, but not more than I think you can handle. You’ll have a safeword that you can use at any time. During the first weeks of this experiment, I will expect you to submit to me at all times. If you haven’t noticed, you already submit to me twelve hours a day. It won’t change much. You’ll have free time to yourself in the evenings in your room.”

  “Will I still work for you?”

  “Yes. For as long as you want. It isn’t a requirement. We’ll take it day by day.”

  That confuses me, but I nod anyway. I need to get out of his office. I need oxygen. I need to think. I need to read through this contract.

  I need to get my hand steady enough to sign it.

  Because there is no way I would turn down this offer.

  Not a chance.

  Chapter 20

  Lucy

  * * *

  I have all my belongings packed in a few boxes ready by the door when Weston shows up to get me Sunday night. He acknowledges them and tells me someone will be sent to pick them up and deliver them to a storage unit the following day.

  I leave my apartment for the last time, glancing back. I don’t feel nostalgic. I’m not attached to the dingy place. But I’m nervous. And I have every right to be. I’m embarking on the craziest journey of my life. I have no idea if I’m making a good decision or not.

  I’ve spent the past forty-eight hours second guessing myself over and over and then tossing and turning. I have not gotten enough sleep. I have made a long list of pros and cons. Even though I signed the contract and agreed to this arrangement before I left Master Roman’s home on Friday, I know I can still back out. I can back out at any time. Even before we start.

  The reason I’m not more concerned is because I own so very little. Nothing in those boxes is overwhelmingly valuable or important to me. If for some reason I’m making the most horrible mistake and find myself on the street tomorrow homeless and without my meager possessions, I won’t have lost much.

  If Master Roman hadn’t hired me two weeks ago, there’s a good chance I would have ended up on the street having left everything behind anyway. I’ve checked my bank account ten times over the weekend. Master Roman deposited my first paycheck on Friday. It’s still there. It’s more than I’ve ever made in a month. I don’t think he could take it back out. He doesn’t have that kind of power. It’s mine. I won’t go without food.

  I ride to the mansion in silence, sitting in the front passenger seat as I have every day since Weston started chauffeuring me to and from work.

  It’s dark when we arrive, and I follow Weston through the rear door like I
always do. He faces me with a nod and then shuffles off to wherever the man goes. I’ve never figured that out.

  Evelyn is not in the kitchen. The only lights on are above the stove. The kitchen is spotless. I’ve never seen it so bare.

  I step farther into the room, wondering what I’m supposed to do next. As I step into the hallway, I hear Master Roman on the phone. I head toward his office. The door is ajar, but I don’t want to disturb him. I’ve never entered his office when the door was closed.

  In truth, I’ve never found it to be closed except on the occasion when I’m inside and he locks it.

  Suddenly, someone clears their throat from down the hallway, and I lift my gaze to find Nancy approaching. Her face is stern. It always is. I don’t think she has another expression.

  “Good evening, Lucy. Master Roman is busy this evening. He asked me to show you to your room and help you get situated. He’ll try to come up later before you go to sleep.”

  I’m half relieved and half disappointed. Nancy makes me nervous. But at least I’m not expected to submit to her. I have no idea what Master Roman will be expecting of me right away.

  I follow Nancy farther down the long hallway. Though I have been in this hallway every day, I have not ventured farther than the office and the bathroom. I’ve never been upstairs.

  The stairway is dark like the rest of the house. The wood paneling and floor gives the entire house a daunting feeling. The stairs curve around as we ascend, so that when we arrive on the second-floor landing, I have no idea which way I’m facing.

  I’m surprised when Nancy stops at the first door on the left at the top of the stairs and opens it. “This will be your room,” she announces as she flips on the light and then steps back to permit me to enter first.

  I enter and then freeze. Shocked. So many things about this room make me gasp. For one, it’s decorated for a young girl. The focal point is a white, twin-sized, four-posted bed. The comforter is my favorite shade of pastel pink. It’s thick and fluffy and has ruffles all around the sides. The matching sham is also ruffled in airy pink material. Leaning against the pillow is a stuffed bunny, white with pink ears. It should probably alarm me, but instead it makes me smile.