by C. C. Piper
I wanted to instruct her to remove her clothing and walk through the house naked. I held back. I wanted to see her obey, but I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of our chat. “Let’s move to the living area.” I opened the wet bar I kept stocked. “What would you like to drink?”
“I’m not twenty-one yet.” She put her hands on her hips. “I know it sounds uptight, but I don’t do anything that could jeopardize my chances with getting admitted to the California Bar. Do you have anything non-alcoholic?”
That was a good point. Lawyers with convictions, even DUI’s, could harm their chances at practicing law in this state.
She was so damn sexy, standing there with her lips pouty and her hands on her hips. “When the chef’s here, I’ll have her make you some non-alcoholic daiquiri and margarita mix to keep in the freezer. But for now, I have ginger ale.”
“I’d love some.”
I fixed myself a whiskey and poured a ginger ale for Chrissy.
Chrissy didn’t sit immediately, but walked the perimeter of the room, inspecting all the trinkets and mementos I’d saved from my travels with my father. Some of them even pre-dated me, and were from my father’s adventures before I was born. She seemed to be interested, and wasn’t just trying to be polite. I joined her in her stroll around the room.
“Sorry, does it bother you that I’m looking at your stuff?”
“No. If I didn’t want anyone to see them, I wouldn’t display them.
She picked up the decorated gourd we’d gotten in South America. “Where’s this from?”
“Peru. It’s a carved gourd; they’ve been doing this type of art for four thousand years. We went on vacation there after one of our investors invited us to stay with them for a week. We stayed in her family home there.” I picked up a photo behind the gourd. “This is a picture of Lima, the city where she grew up.”
“That’s a great view.”
In the photo, we stood on the cliff overlooking a beach, while the skyline from the city rose behind us.
Next she touched another framed photo of me and my father. “What were you doing here? That view is spectacular.”
In the photo, my dad and I are grinning in the corner of the picture. We’re both completely covered in ski gear. In the background, snow-covered mountains glimmered a pristine white.
“We had a business meeting in Switzerland. That was at the summit in Zermatt. You can ski there year ‘round. So it was August when we arrived, and we’d been in Houston for a meeting the week before. We were so hot that when we got to Switzerland we went straight to the slopes.”
“You were really close to him. Not just as a dad, but as a friend.”
“Yes. He was a great guy.”
“You must miss him a lot.”
I was touched at her interest. I’d had countless parties here, and plenty of women had glanced at my memories on display. Not one of them had asked about them. None of them would have cared. “I miss him every day.”
“How did he pass away?”
“Heart attack. It was fairly sudden. He was a big guy, but he was active. He’d been having some issues, but he kept them from us.”
“That must have been a shock. Was it hard to keep working without him there?”
“Yes, it was a shock. But he’d been training me since I was young to take over the company. He involved me in every decision, every strategy, every plan. So that part wasn’t hard.” I put my arm around her shoulders, needing to touch her. “Let’s talk about you. You told me a little about yourself yesterday. You want to be a lawyer. And you said you’re taking criminal justice classes? So tell me about that.”
She looked up at me and her mouth quirked. “I need to be sitting down for this.” She moved to sit on the sofa closest to the window and I sat next to her. “As you may have realized, I’ve spent a lot of time dealing with the social services system. I had to get really familiar with the way the state works when children are concerned, when I was still a kid myself.”
I was continually impressed with how strong she was.
“When I was really young, I’d show up to school with all kinds of issues that are a red flag for teachers and counselors.”
“Like what?” I was well aware that I’d lived in a bubble growing up, attending my exclusive private school.
“Head lice. No snack. No water bottle even on blistering hot days. No lunches, but no paperwork filled out to apply for free lunches. The same unwashed clothes, week after week. Bruises on my face, on my arms.”
I clenched my jaw, but tried to keep my voice even. “Bruises? Your mom hit you?”
“No. She’s too lazy to expend that kind of effort. Occasionally the guys she brought in to do drugs with would hit me.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t really their target, I was just in the way. I learned to avoid them later on. For a while I had a baseball bat, and I’d hit them back.”
Rage washed over me. The thought of a grown man hitting a little girl was unfathomable to me. I didn’t like to fight, but I’d spend years learning to box and learning judo. Plus, I wasn’t reluctant to use my considerable financial resources to put someone in line. “Do you remember their names?”
“No.” She patted my arm. “Don’t go vigilante on me. They’re probably all dead. Or in prison. Or at the very least, brain dead.”
If she had remembered who any of them were, I’d make sure they never hit anyone again.
I was amazed by Chrissy’s resilience. It made my complaints about my own flaky mother seem trivial and unimportant. My mom had been absent and preferred to drink over spending time with me, but she had never hit me. She’d never brought random men into my life and allowed them to hit me, either. In fact, she’d been pretty careful about my safety.
It put my relationship with her into a new perspective. And I’d also had my father. Chrissy had no one. No one but Bella.
The same sister who was now fighting for her life.
I thought back to the file the Wish Maker had given me about Chrissy. She had mentioned a best friend whom Chrissy was close to. I couldn't remember her name, but I would need to foster that relationship, and take care not to isolate Chrissy here as the estate. I wanted her attention with me when I was home, but during the day, she could spend time with her friend as well as her sister.
I had derailed her story. “So you caught the attention of teachers …”
“Yes. So they’d notice my situation, and question me. I didn’t know to lie, and my mom was too dumb to tell me to lie, although she wanted me around because I took care of her as well as myself. The school would call DHS and report neglect. A caseworker would do a home visit. The first time, I told the truth, and I got removed and put into emergency foster care for seventy-two hours.”
“That wasn’t better?”
The slant of Chrissy’s mouth told me how wrong I was.“That’s what everyone from a nice family thinks. But no, it wasn’t a relief. It was much worse. The family had about ten kids in the house, all ages. There was no space, there was a lot of jockeying for attention and food. It was very Lord of the Flies.”
“I thought there were rules about that sort of thing.”
“There are. But there aren’t enough foster families. So violations get ignored.” Her eyes were grim.“By the time I was eight, I’d learned to lie when DHS visited. I’d explain away whatever happened. Because at least my mom was predictable, at least to me. The other family wasn’t. Then when I was twelve, Bella was born.”
Chrissy ran her hands through her hair, twisting the ends into spirals as she told her story. “At one point in the process, an attorney ad litem was appointed for us. That caught my attention. Even though I wanted to stay out of the system, the idea that a child could have his or her own lawyer, even without having a single penny, was revolutionary. Suddenly the world didn’t seem so unfair. So I’d like to be an attorney ad litem or a maybe a mediator for kids in public schools who have learning disabilities. That was a major need that I saw.”
“You aren’t interested in substance abuse counseling?”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “I know most addicts are sick. And that it’s a disease. I believe that. But I’m too close to it. I can’t be objective.” She picked up her glass of ginger ale and took a sip. “I’m going to do better working with kids than adults.”
That made sense to me. Chrissy was a hell of a lot more sympathetic than I’d ever be. I’d donated money — a lot of it — to research and support for substance abuse. But I didn’t have a personal connection to it.
If I had my way, Chrissy’s mom would be in prison for the way she treated her daughter.
Chrissy looked like she’d had enough of talking about her home life. I didn’t want to make her relive any more unhappy memories, but I was thankful that I understood her a little better. I changed the subject. “So tell me about the fun parts of school. What do you like?”
“Oh, everything.” She sat up straighter. Her voice was charged with excitement.“I like meeting people from all over the world. I like reading. I like writing. I love sitting in the lectures. And every moment I’m there means I’m not at one of my mind-numbing waitressing jobs.”
We both laughed, and I asked Chrissy to describe her jobs. She told me about the two jobs waiting tables, and the one she loved in the campus library at Cal State.
“I guess I only have one job waiting tables now. The day Bella got sick, I forgot to call into my evening job, and I got fired.”
“For one missed shift? They didn’t wait for an explanation?” That seemed unfairly punitive. And from everything I’d seen, Chrissy seemed like a conscientious employee.
“In that kind of restaurant, where it’s locally owned, sometimes the owners have to be harsh. You can’t work from home in the service industry, and you can’t make up for it later if there’s no one there to help the customers.”
Her pragmatic outlook which lent understanding to her former boss was stunning. I marveled at how mature she was.
As the evening wore on, we got more comfortable, but eventually our easy conversation petered out. I glanced at Chrissy.
She seemed distracted. I hadn’t noticed her receive any calls or texts. Maybe she was worried about her sister. “Is everything okay?”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“About what?” Surely after tonight she wasn’t going to break our agreement?
“About your demand.”
She kept running the napkin under the bottom of her glass. She seemed uncertain. I stared at her, but didn’t question her further. I wasn’t sure what she meant, and I was unwilling to guess.
She put her glass down. She stood up, and unzipped her dress.
She was a sight in her lacy blue bra and panties.
I had not seen that coming.
I was immediately aroused.
I picked up my whiskey and savored the last sip. I let my eyes travel the length of her body. After seeing her body exposed for me last night, I was even more turned on now that I knew what exactly what her undergarments were covering.
I could order her to take them off. I waited, wanting to see what her plans included.
I studied her face. I could see her swallow hard.
“It’s up to you,” she said. “I mean, you’re the dominant, right? That’s what it’s called? But if you want to, then I am willing. We can. Um. Sleep together.”
Of course I was willing. But I hadn’t seen her this hesitant. She had been so direct, and sure of herself until now. For this step, I wanted her to be certain. I didn’t mind her showing gratitude for my assistance with her sister’s medical care, but I didn’t want to take her virginity until she was ready.
“I would love nothing more.” I leaned back against the sofa cushions, not wanting to intimidate her physically at this point. My attitude toward how I wanted to treat her was rapidly evolving. Before we’d met, I wanted a pleasant companion to share the evening with. I hadn’t expected to care about her so soon.
Now I wanted to make sure that Chrissy was comfortable. “However, I don’t want you to rush it. If you’re not ready, we can wait. There are so many other things I can introduce to you.”
She shook her head. “I’m ready.”
As she he stood there in her bra and panties I noticed they were the exact same shade as the cocktail dress she’d chosen to wear. They also matched her eyes perfectly. This offer was not impulsive. She had planned this ahead of time, which made me feel better about proceeding. “Are you certain?”
“I am. I’m nervous.” She bit her lip. “I’ll probably stay nervous. But I’m ready.”
I liked that she was truthful. “Nervous is okay. Scared isn’t. Remember that you can say the word ‘red’ at any time, and we’ll stop.”
“I remember.”
I put down my glass and stood. I couldn't wait to get my hands on her. It was going to take a lot of willpower on my part to not throw her down and ravish her. “In that case, let’s go upstairs.”
13
Chrissy
I watched as Richard put down his glass and stood.
Still in his suit pants, he was striking. Under his white dress shirt, I could see the defined muscles of his biceps.
I knew he was going to come over to me, and I wanted him to. I hadn’t changed my mind, but my body hadn’t gotten the message. I was shaking all over, and getting a full breath was difficult. By the time he was in front of me, my stomach was tight with a mixture of anticipation and agitation.
He had not ordered me to fully undress as I’d expected. He had taken the time to question me, and find out if I was certain about taking this step.
He lifted his hand and caressed my cheek.
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. My legs continued to shake, but breathing became easier. He moved his hand to the back of my head, letting his fingers tangle in my hair. He gave me a brief kiss on the lips, then took my hand. I followed him upstairs into his bedroom.
He pulled four satin ribbons from a drawer. “I’m going to restrain you with these. Any concerns?”
I shook my head. I knew this was part of our agreement.
“Everything off.”
With those words, the mood in the room changed. He wasn’t Richard who loved traveling and kept all his photos on display. Or Richard who was kind and thoughtful enough to help my sister. Or Richard who secretly longed to teach English. He was a dominant. A dominant who would have me submit to him.
He wouldn’t tolerate any insolence on my part.
The friendliness was gone, replaced by utter control.
This time was easier than the first. I unsnapped my bra and tugged my panties off, trying to stay balanced as I stepped out of them.
“Lie down.”
I lay on the bed.
He gently pulled my arms above my head and tied them to the headboard. The silk was cool against my wrists. Flat on my back, with my hands tied, I couldn’t cover my breasts.
“Spread your legs.”
Those words sounded crude, but had an effect on me that was far from negative.
He tied my left ankle to the bedpost. As he pulled my right ankle to the other post, my legs were spread wide. Just like last night, my body was open to him. But this time he wouldn't just be penetrating me with his hands and his mouth. He would be putting his body inside mine.
He knelt between my legs. I closed my eyes and tried to brace myself. I’d heard varying stories of how much this would hurt.
“Chrissy. Eyes open.”
He didn’t push inside, but continued to kneel beside me. He began by kissing under my ear, along my jaw. I shivered. His hands covered my breasts. They massaged, making circles around the skin until he lifted his hands, brushing over my nipples.
I breathed in the piney scent of his expensive cologne. An electrified chill went through my body. I’d heard breasts were an erogenous zone, of course, but I’d never expected that. He bent forward, and took my nipple into his m
outh.
The warm heat intensified the sensation. He mouthed at my other nipple. I tugged at the ties on my wrists. The knots held. I gripped the ribbons, desperate for more.
Then he straightened up again. His gaze was piercing.
“Lift your chin.”
I did my best, aware that the motion pushed my chest into the air.
“Yes. Exactly like that. Now arch your back.”
His hands traced over my neck, my chest, my stomach. “You’re blushing. All the way down. You know what you look like? Next time I’ll bring a mirror. You’ll be able to see yourself, naked for me. Bound for me. You’ll be able to see me watching you.”
I moaned. His words set my blood on fire. I’d always imagined bedroom talk would sound silly, but Richards words had a profound effect on me. The place between my legs, open to the cool air, pulsed.
“Perfect. I like what that does to your breasts.” He passed over them one last time with his hands before inching backward down the bed until he was between my legs.
He bent his head forward and licked me, in the spot where I craved it most.
I began to writhe.
He put one large hand over my hip bone. “Be still.”
I pressed my hips into the mattress. I found myself wanting to obey him. His fingers joined his tongue, pushing into me, just as he had last night, over and over again. Tension built in my body. I strained against the ties on my legs, knowing if they weren’t restrained that I’d be kicking.
Finally, he released me. He untied my arms first, massaging my wrists. Then he untied my ankles.
I felt amazing. The unease I’d felt the first time was gone. I leaned up to kiss Richard, but he stopped me, pushing against my chest.
“No,” he said. “I’m in charge. Lie down.”
I flushed all over. Blood rushed between my legs and I throbbed, hoping he’d help me find release soon.
He dipped his finger inside me again. “You’re so wet. That’s perfect, Chrissy. Just what I want.” He added a second finger. “Keep your legs open. I want to see you like this. Spread out on my sheets, naked, just for me,” he said. “This is the last time you’ll be a virgin,” he said as he removed his fingers and stood.
