by Becca Little
“I’m Mr. Addison.” He extended his hand—it was so big that I could have fit two of mine side by side in his palm.
“I’d say it was a pleasure, but this is your fucking fault to begin with.” I felt the rage returning I had felt when my mother first told me she was kicking me out of the house.
“No, it isn’t my fault.” He shook his head and his steel colored eyes centered on me. “I just wanted to help. I came here to give you one more chance to make the right decision. Your father and I were very good friends, and I would do anything for your mother, or any of their children.”
His words were gentle with a hint of kindness, and I had literally lost my will to fight. I wanted a warm bath, a hot meal, and a comfortable bed to sleep in. He was a giant of a man, but he seemed harmless enough. His suit and his haircut just exuded wealth. There wasn’t a single thread or strand slightly out of place. I finally relented and shook his hand, feeling my own engulfed as he shook it.
“I’m Abigail.” I sighed in defeat.
“I remember you.” He put an arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure you don’t remember me.”
“I don’t.” I shook my head as we walked towards the door.
“I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I need a bath.” My needs just flowed out of my mouth like water running down a rock.
“All of that is waiting for you at my place.” He pointed towards his car. “All of that and a whole lot more.”
I let him lead me to his car and once I was in the backseat with him, he tapped on the glass and the driver started the car. It was strange to see the city again after being locked up. It was almost foreign. When we passed into the suburban areas near the interstate and officially left Chicago behind, I could feel a numbness in my stomach. I had only been away from Chicago a few times in my life, and I hadn’t even left the perimeter since my father passed away. In a strange way, I felt like my life was being torn apart instead of stitched back together.
“Would you like a drink?” Mr. Addison pulled open the middle console and steam rose from the refrigerator hidden beneath it.
“Do you have a beer?” I raised my eyebrows with a bit of hope.
“I have water for you.” He handed me a cold bottle and started dropping ice cubs into a crystal glass. Once he had three large cubes in it, he picked up a single serving of dark colored liquor and poured it over them.
“Can I have one of those?” I motioned to the glass.
“No, I think you’ve done enough drinking for a while.” He sipped his drink his cheeks stretched tight as the alcohol his throat.
“This isn’t starting off well.” I muttered as I twisted the top off the water bottle and drank it. It did taste damn good, even if it wasn’t alcoholic.
“You’ll find I am an old-fashioned man.” He smiled and nodded. “I believe a young lady should spend her time learning to be a proper lady.”
“I’ll never be a proper lady.” I laughed and shook my head.
“You’ll be surprised what kind of potential you have.” He raised his glass to me and sipped the dark colored liquor again.
Chapter 4
We drove for hours. Mr. Addison had a couple of drinks and eventually gave me some peanuts as a snack. I was so hungry I ate three bags before he cut me off. He said I would spoil my dinner if I kept eating them. As the day turned to dusk, we approached a very large house that could have been cut from a historical catalog. It was nothing short of a mansion.
“This is where you live?” The car turned into the driveway and we passed a large wrought iron gate.
“It is my home, yes.” He nodded and put his glass in a cup holder big enough to hold it. “I just recently moved in.”
The driver opened my door and Mr. Addison led me across white gravel to an extremely large door. It looked like the kind of door I saw on houses in the Pride and Prejudice movie I watched it with my mother years before. I had to do a double take once we crossed the threshold, because it was even more lavish than the outside suggested. I recognized some of the paintings from art class, and I was pretty sure they weren’t counterfeits. I looked around in shock, and then looked back to Mr. Addison.
“What exactly do you do for a living?” I asked.
“I’m a lawyer.” He said with a smile.
“I didn’t realize lawyers made this much…” I looked around the house again.
“Well, technically I own the firm. We also have a lot of other investments, like real estate and we fund a lot of the local businesses.” He took me by the arm and walked me towards a flight of stairs.
“That’s insane.” I smiled. “This is such a nice place. It’s like a fairy tale.”
“Your room is at the top of the stairs on the right. Please make yourself at home, have a bath, and get changed. When you’re ready to eat, dinner will be waiting.” He removed his arm and pointed.
“I don’t even have a change of clothes…” I hung my head and sighed.
“There are clothes waiting for you. Just pick something from the closet.” He motioned up the stairs and I slowly took the first steps towards my new abode. “I’ve taken care of everything.”
When I pushed open the door to my new room, my jaw nearly hit the floor. It was almost as big as my house. The room took up an entire corner of the upstairs, and it looked like it had everything I could have ever wanted. The decor was a mixture between old English and early American. A four-post canopy king sized bed sat directly across from the door against a wall adorned with Revolutionary War themed paintings.
I had no idea if it was intentional or not, but one of my favorite subjects in middle school was the Revolutionary War. I did a research paper on it, and found the American liberation movement completely fascinating—I considered it a mirror of my own internal struggle with independence from my parents. The furniture was majestic, and there was even a bathroom attached to the room with a gigantic version of a Victorian era bathtub.
As I moved closer, I realized that it had been outfitted with modern pleasantries. My need for a bath quickly overwhelmed all my other needs, so I locked the door to the room, the door to the bathroom, and started filling the tub with water.
“I’m in fucking heaven.” I did a twirl and stared in the mirror as my excitement grew. “I can’t believe I didn’t want to live here!”
Once the tub was filled, I stripped off my clothes and climbed inside the warm water. It started to change colors quickly—I was absolutely filthy! The few seconds I got underneath the cold water in jail didn’t do anything to wash away the grime from the streets. The tub was outfitted with a sprayer and other modern wonders, so I quickly started to scrub and scald away the nastiness in every pore of my body. When I pushed the sprayer under the water and started to wash my legs, I felt a tingle as it sprayed on my vagina. I quickly became aware of how long it had been since I had even felt pleasure.
“He did say I should make myself at home…” An evil smirk stretched across my face.
Finding a boyfriend had not been a huge priority, and most of the men that hit on me at work were quite disgusting. It was a running joke among my friends—especially Sarah—that I was the last virgin on Earth, but once I got past the initial stage of being a horny teenager, I didn’t feel like hooking up for the sake of hooking up. I figured I could save myself and make it special. I certainly had opportunities, but never with the right guy.
Prior to graduation, I was a little chunky, and I really didn’t hit the point where every man I walked past was staring at me until I dropped twenty-five pounds. It wasn’t an intentional diet, but constantly running around at work burned the excess layer right off me. Sarah always said I went from plump to skinny-fat which I thought was a fair assessment. I never considered myself very pretty and thought most of the men were instead focused on my new curves.
“This is happening.” I stared at the nozzle that vibrated when I hit a button. “Oh, this is definitely happening.”
With the warm water finally soothing me,
and the tickle from the sprayer, I found myself getting very turned on. I submerged the nozzle under the water and brought it up between my legs. The intensity pressed on every nerve ending and started to quickly stimulate it. I pushed the protective flap away from my clitoris and started to massage it while the water surged against my pleasure points. I quickly began to moan and sigh with anticipation of what was about to come.
“That’s so fucking good…” My moan was louder than the vibration between my legs as the sprayer tickled my pussy.
It had been so long since I masturbated that I certainly didn’t need very long for the magic to happen. My finger quickly rolled around the knot that my clitoris formed as it got hard and tight from the intensity. I felt the tingling sensation begin my stomach and I pressed my feet against the edge of the tub, grinding towards the sprayer and creating the feeling of being fucked by the hot muscular man who filled my fantasy. I didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like, but his cock was huge and he was about to take my virginity.
I was scared and excited at the same time, ready for it to happen, and then I felt the surge of my orgasm. I had to bite down on my lip to avoid a scream, because the sprayer brought a sense of pleasure I hadn’t felt before. I rocked my hips several times and felt my body release months of tension in one single act. When it was over, I stayed in the water and let it warm me like the sweet embrace of the man I had created in my head. My head spun for a few minutes, and I finally felt myself returning to normal.
“That was good enough for a cigarette…” My mind spun in circles as I lay in the water.
I dried myself off and did what I could with my mess of a hair before moving back into the bedroom and searching for something to wear. There were several dressers, but they were empty save one, which had an assortment of underwear and other necessities. It was strange to find multiple pairs of sexy underwear in my size there. It meant that Mr. Addison must have spoken with my mother and gotten my size. The thought of that him picking out my panties made me blush a little. I put on a bra and panties, then started looking through the closet.
“What the hell is this shit.” My eyes scanned the array.
I had expected to find a good assortment of jeans, t-shirts and other things someone my age would wear, but instead I just found a solid line of dresses. Some of them were a little strange and looked like something a child would wear. Others were a little more adult appropriate, but they looked like Victorian era dresses.
I found one that was a form fitting top with a frayed, open skirt, and decided it was the best compromise I could make. The skirt was a little shorter than I wanted, but at least I didn’t look like a little girl or an old maid. I slipped on a pair of shoes that looked comfortable and walked downstairs to find Mr. Addison motioning for me to join him at a large table.
“I hope you found everything to your liking. Please have a seat, dinner is about to be served.” He pulled out my chair so I could sit down. He chose one for me that was directly caddy corner to his, despite the fact the table could seat more than a dozen.
“Thank you. The clothes are a little strange, I guess?” I hoped he would pick up on my insinuation without me having to spell it out, but it was possible that he was terrible at shopping for everything but underwear.
“We will talk about that after dinner. For now, I want to talk about your education.” A maid and a butler brought food to the table and peeled back the covers. It was a hearty feast of glazed chicken, mashed potatoes, and cornbread. They served me water and served him a glass of dark colored liquor. I wanted liquor, beer, wine—anything but water, but I decided not to push the issue considering what he said to me earlier.
“I already told my mother that I do not want to go to college. I have no idea why she is pushing me into this. I appreciate your hospitality, but I would be extremely happy if you would just let me crash her for a few days until I can hopefully talk some sense into her and move back home.” I rolled my eyes as I remembered my last conversation with my mother. Surely, she would change her mind when she found out I was stealing food just to survive.
“Abigail, I’m going to be very frank with you.” His voice suddenly took on a surprising, firm tone. “This is the best opportunity you are ever going to get in your life. I’m offering to let you live here at no cost while you go to college. You won’t have to get a job, or pay for a damn thing. I’m offering to pay for absolutely everything. Why can you not recognize this as a wonderful gift and accept it?”
“Maybe because I don’t want it?” I shrugged my shoulders. He was being as unreasonable as my mother. “I have friends. I have—well had a job that I loved.”
“You loved waiting tables?” He almost snorted his drink out his nose as he laughed.
“I did!” I angrily took a bite of potatoes and washed it down with water.
“You didn’t even make enough money to pay for your own place. You were still living with your mother!” His tone got a little harsher. He reminded me a lot of my father, at least what I could remember of him.
“I was saving money!” My voice got elevated as well but a glare from him quickly got my tone in check.
“You must not have been very good at it if you were stealing food.” He started to cut his chicken, turning his eyes towards me.
“Just let me talk to my mother.” Arguing with him seemed pointless, and if I could get through to her, then this whole nightmare could be over in an instant.
Chapter 5
“Mom!” I eagerly greeted her as she picked up the phone.
“Hello Abigail. I heard you were in jail.” Her words were no longer commanding—she was back to the sad old widow I remembered.
“Mr. Addison bailed me out.” I admitted with a drawn sigh. “Mom, I just want to come home. Please let me come home.”
“That isn’t an option.” I could hear her shifting on the couch in our living room. It always had the same squeak when someone moved. “I’m very happy you are okay, but you aren’t coming home.”
“Mom… I don’t want to live here.” My tone was practically begging, drifted on the edge of tears.
“You’re no longer welcome in my home. Mr. Addison is offering you a tremendous opportunity and I wouldn’t be a good mother if I let you turn it down and move back here with me.” Her tone got firmer.
“Please.” I begged, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. “I was happy living there with you. I miss you.”
“Abigail.” She replied sharply. “This is not up for negotiation. If you don’t want to live with Mr. Addison, you can return to the streets.”
“Fine. You’re a fucking bitch.” I slammed down the phone and glared angrily as it vibrated until it settled in place.
I thought about calling one of my siblings, but I knew they would side with her—they always did. They were all successful and happy, living perfect little lives in suburban bliss. They jokingly called me the black sheep as it was, and I didn’t think they would understand my need for independence since I was technically still leeching off my mother to have that symbolic freedom.
I sat down in a chair by the phone and cried for about ten minutes until I realized I had no other choice but to accept what Mr. Addison was offering. I walked into the living room where he was waiting with my head down in absolute defeat. I had never felt so out of place before, or so hopeless. It was a tremendous opportunity, but it felt like my life was being decided for me with no choice except to go blindly into the subjugation of education.
“Okay. I’m ready to have a real conversation.” I sat down across from him and sighed deeply.
“Excellent.” He raised his glass to me. He had started a fire and was busy puffing on a cigar as he worked his way through another glass of liquor.
“So, what you are offering me is the opportunity to go to college, live here, and basically do what I want?” I asked with a hopeful tone in my voice.
“Ha!” Laughter engulfed him. “Now that is funny. No.” He puffed his cigar
and let smoke roll out of his lips for a moment before he continued. “You will live here under a very strict set of rules. You will go to college, come home, study, and of course there will be chores.”
“I’m going to have chores? You have a maid and a butler!” My brow formed a line of disappointment.
“You are correct. I have a maid and a butler. I have a maid and a butler because I lead a very busy life. I don’t have time to deal with things like cooking and cleaning because I have to invest every spare moment I have in my firm.” He glared at me again, and I looked down at the floor.
It was hard to keep eye contact with him. His eyes were like nails constantly being hammered into my soul.
“Okay, maybe chores aren’t that bad, but can we talk about the clothes? Most of the things upstairs look like they are either for a child or an old lady. What is that about? Can I have t-shirts, jeans, and things people my age wear?” I hoped he would consider that at least. It wasn’t much to ask.
“I’m a little old-fashioned, Abby.” He smiled and took another puff from his cigar. Nobody had called me Abby since my father passed. “I believe young ladies should wear proper attire, and the wardrobe is something I picked out myself.”
“Okay.” I had figured that much out on my own.
It wasn’t a battle to fight on my first night. Maybe I could get some pictures and show him what kids my age wore.
“Now, you need to understand that as someone who is old fashioned, I will not put up with disrespect or disobedience. I will have a very strict set of rules I expect you to adhere to, and if you do not follow them—” I cut him off before he could continue.
“I know. I’m out of here.” I nodded. Was that my ticket to freedom? If I angered him and he kicked me out, my mother would have to take me back!
“No. If you do not follow the rules I lay out for you, I will discipline you appropriately.” He said in a cold, even tone.
