Reaching Lily
Page 19
‘I can see that, Professor.’
‘I told you, it’s Marly.’
‘Marly. I’ll inform Mr Holder of your decision.’ Beatrice raised an eyebrow, and, though she was addressing me, she did not take her eyes off Marly. A Holder power play! ‘Lily, you’ll be studying at the Boston Ballet. I’ll put a call in to Ivan Herborvicz and see who he recommends to give you private lessons. I expect he’s more generous with his acolytes than granny here. More likely, he’ll offer himself, once he hears the price and that his name will be on the ivy-covered walls of –’
‘Ivan?’ Marly snorted. ‘Is that supposed to be a threat? I trained Ivan Herborvicz. Hell, I invented Ivan Herborvicz.’
‘And what a fine job you did.’ Beatrice nodded. ‘I’ll give him your regards.’
‘You are quite a piece of work, aren’t you, Ms Collins?’ Marly checked me out again. ‘Fine. I’ll take on the chunky girl.’
‘Chunky?’ I repeated, incredulous.
‘Shush,’ Beatrice snapped, and I wasn’t sure which of us she was speaking to. ‘Ms Dewitt will be in tomorrow to begin her lessons. Please don’t die between now and then, Frau Gheiszler. We’ll see ourselves out.’
* * *
‘Well, that sucked,’ I said, as soon as we hit the cobblestones. ‘You know, I never asked for dancing lessons.’
‘Dancing lessons?’ Beatrice cracked up. ‘Lily, if you’re lucky, she’ll teach you to move without looking like a thug, but dancing instruction? Highly unlikely. And you are lucky, might I add, to so much as meet that woman. It was all I could do not to ask for her autograph. Also, please let me do the talking whenever we’re in any social situations in which you have no right to be. Nothing personal, but you have no idea how to speak to these people.’
‘Noted.’ I fought back tears. Stupid tears.
For the record, I wasn’t sad. I was not angry. I was ashamed, and wondered if the entire day was a game Dorian Holder was playing out in his mind. Me, Lily Dewitt, being demeaned and belittled for who I was and where I came from. Being reminded of how I should be but failed to be. Obviously I needed to tell him that there was no way in hell I could be any more humbled than I was before I met him.
Also, I would use our safe word, if creating demeaning situations for me was his idea of a sub-dom scenario. I certainly had not agreed to any specific arrangement, and one of the first rules is to inform your sub what the deal is and find out whether she wants to do it. Dorian hadn’t done so, which meant my day of ‘grooming’ wasn’t consensual. A good dom would have texted me a warning before we entered Marly’s office. More like I was being punked.
I would not go back for a lesson with that old biddy tomorrow, and I don’t care if she’s famous.
There would be a conversation.
Benton Worthy held the door of the Lincoln open for us, and Beatrice and I were driven back to my apartment. Though Beatrice Collins didn’t hook herself back up into her portable-office mode, she didn’t talk to me either.
‘This is me,’ I chirped, even though he was already pulling into Agassiz Street. ‘Thanks for the ride.’
Before I could fling the door open, Beatrice grabbed my arm. ‘Sorry about any weirdness today,’ she said. ‘And you can bet my brother will hear about what a cunt Marly was to you.’
Maybe Dorian didn’t know how Frau Marly Gheiszler would treat me? Beatrice’s comment led me to believe that might have been the case. I hoped so.
‘But, just so you know, instructors do that to toughen you up. See if you’ve got what it takes to learn.’
‘Like Willy Wonka did to Charlie at the Chocolate Factory?’
‘Not kidding.’ She shook my hand. ‘You do look fabulous, by the way, Lily. Try to act like you know that about yourself.’
‘Good firm handshake,’ I replied, letting go of hers. Because I didn’t know how to respond to what she said, as my natural tendency would be to retort, ‘No, I do not look fabulous.’ ‘And thank you, Beatrice, for the day. You’re an awesome assistant to Dorian, and I hope he tells you that on a regular basis.’
‘He doesn’t, but I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.’
I hadn’t enjoyed myself, but her civility was too much to pass up. So I nodded.
‘Also, thanks for the mail.’ I held up my bag of envelopes: letter of recommendation, medical records and what I could only assume was a contract regarding the rules ’n’ regulations of a casual sexual relationship with Dorian Holder.
In all fairness, the man was – is, rather – her half-brother. I’d be bugged out if I were her too. I mean, uncomfortable with carting his not-girlfriend around town to indulge his whimsy.
‘Just my job.’ She shrugged, and her well-practised stone-face returned. ‘Probably won’t ever see you again, so good luck with this whole thing.’
‘Maybe I’ll see you before you head back home?’
‘Nah. You won’t see me again. Ever. I’ve got a Saturday flight, and my brother gave you the week off. Remember?’ Beatrice popped open her laptop, indicating the end of our conversation. Her work was done.
So when, as I stumbled in my clickity-clackity new kicks up the granite steps, I was shocked to hear, ‘Lily, wait!’
I waited, and Beatrice caught up with me. She could run in her heels as though they were track shoes. She grasped my hand. ‘Dorian’s an odd duck, I know.’
‘Ya think?’
‘He’ll get stranger, the more he knows you. It could get intense. Please don’t take out a restraining order on him if you end up getting uncomfortable. My brother’s got some good lawyers and such. Email me if there’s any trouble. Regarding how I’ve behaved – I was worried about him, but I’m also worried about you. For no reason, whatsoever, just … He can be obsessive, but even if he gets weird, I promise you he’s harmless.’
‘So don’t overthink anything,’ I finished.
‘Perfect. Yes.’
‘Got it. You as well. Good night.’
Not harmless.
Chapter Fifteen
Naughty and Nice
Then this happened. Some guy holding a toolbox in one hand and a pair of two-by-fours in the other came this close to blindsiding me as I fumbled my way into my apartment. ‘Jesus Christ.’
Some Charlie Hunnam lookalike (Gwen would have claimed he was Charlie Hunnam – wish she’d been there to see) behind him bugged his crazy blue eyes at me and dropped his power drill.
‘Shut it down!’ the man I could only assume was the main contractor called towards the general direction of my bedroom. After a perfunctory glance at my boobs, a smile and an approving nod, he said, ‘’Scuse me, ma’am.’
I stepped aside while he edged his way out. Oh, my. What a tight little bottom. Why do men come by those so easily? We women have to work for a high-riding booty. Also, since when did my landlord hire a bunch of Abercrombie models in Carhartts to do minor repairs? Holy shit. There was a chorus of power tools shutting down, a clatter from the other room and a cloud of sweet-smelling sawdust settling. I pressed my back against the wall to let them pass. Wordlessly, what looked like some kind of hot gang-bang porno-movie cast of carpenters marched out of my flat, carrying tools, hefty bags, sheets of drywall and planks.
There have been moments in my life that I would describe as surreal, but, to this day, that one takes the cake.
After taking off my nudie shoes with that telltale red sole, I dropped my goods on the floor, relieved. Rather than run around to see what damage the Models, Inc. Construction Company had done, I reached into my salon swag bag and took out the envelopes Beatrice had given me: the recommendation, the Holder, Dorian medical records – which I had almost decided not to open, though I was still hesitating – and the mystery envelope from Dorian himself. The suspense caused by this one had been driving me bonkers all afternoon. What the heck?
Two tickets to The Sleeping Beauty fell out. Balcony seats. Nice. But I already knew about that part of the story. Gingerly I unfolded the stiff, cream-colou
red paper and glanced it over. Oh, sweet Jesus! I fiddled around in my clutch to get the pen I accidentally stole from Beatrice, grabbed my lapdesk and sat down to fill out the following document to the best of my ability. My hands shook as I tried my best not to use my ‘high-school girl’ penmanship.
Here is what he sent me, and what I filled out:
26 April 20–
Dear Lily,
Consider this missive a continuation of our morning discussion regarding our definitions of safe, sane and consensual. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Have it filled out before I see you tonight. No, that was not a request.
Must admit, I am beyond curious.
All yours,
D
5 = An unqualified yes; I have done or will do
4 = Intrigued, leaning towards quite possible
3 = Maybe with modification or in the right circumstances
2 = Soft limit, would do or have done but hate(d) it
1 = Never in a million years, hard limit, yuck
Coitus (any position): 5
Mutual masturbation: 5
Fellatio: 5
Violent Fellatio: You mean like biting? Willing to nibble. 3
Cock and ball torture: 3
Cunnilingus: 5
Face Sitting: 4
Cunnilingus rough: 3
Pussy punish: 3
Dominating: 4
Submitting: 5
Sub/Dom Switch: 4
Humiliation/Servitude: 4 – we’ll discuss.
Punishment/Reward: 5
Dacryphilia: ???
Anal Sex: 2 but never with your big dong, already told you
Anal Play: 3
Rimming: 4
Beads: 3
Dildo: 4
Pegging: ???
Vibrator: 5
Egg: 4
Ben Wa Balls: 4
Buttplug: 3
Facial: 5 LOVE!
Cumshot/Body: 5 LOVE!!
Role-play: 5 LOVE!!!
Wrist/ankles cloth and leather restraint: 4
Handcuffs: 4
Spreader bar/wrists: 3
Spreader bar/ankles: 3
Tittyfucking: 5
Breast/Nipple torture: 4
Breast bondage: ???
Reverse Prayer: Like in yoga? I guess, why not?
Spanking: 5
Spanking bench: 4
Paddling: 4
Riding crop, whip, flogger: 4
Blindfold: 5
Tease and Denial: 5
Hot Wax: 3
Uniform fetish: 4
Lingerie Fetish: 5
Cross-dressing: 5 if it’s you dressing up, 2 if it’s me
Tickle play: 3
Feather play: 4
Breath control: 2
Choking out: 1
Immobility: 2
Collar/leash: 3
Cosplay: 5
Mask: 5 PLEASE do Phantom of the Opera or Zorro
Sensory Deprivation Hood: 2
Gag: 3
Leather/Studs: 5
Rubber: 4
PVC: 1 – doesn’t everyone know vinyl is toxic?
Spandex: 4
Fur (not as in yiffing): Yes FAKE fur caress on me, but what’s ‘yiffing’?
Abrasion: ???
Fisting (Anal): 1
Fisting (Vaginal): 3
St Andrews’s Cross: 3
Exhibitionism: 5
Voyeurism: 3
Phone Sex/Sexting: 5
Viewing Pornography: 4
Creating Pornography: 5
Animal Play (Pony, Pussy, Pup): Yes to pony and kitty, no to dog 3
Partialism: Like ‘body worship’? Because your cock is perfect! 5
Shoe fetish: 3
Mummification wrap: 1
Piquerism: ???
Bloodplay: 1
Piercing: 2
Tattooing: 2
Branding: 1
Cuckolding: 1
Infantilism: 1
Somnophilia: ‘Somn-’ = sleep. As in ‘passed out prom date’? 3
Golden Shower: 2
Scatophilia: Yuck!!!
Three-way WWM: 1
Three-way MMW: 3 – changed mind after meeting construction crew
Orgy/group sex: 2
Dorian –
I don’t know what half this shit is, and don’t feel like Googling it. In case you can’t tell from my responses, I’m maybe not as sexually adventurous and/or experienced as you would like.
Please don’t be disappointed in me.
Respectfully,
Lily
Don’t ask me why I cared if he’d be ‘disappointed’, or where in the heck ‘respectfully’ came from, but just reading through his laundry list of Would You?s made me feel like a prude. Not to mention naive. My guess was that he came up with a tame rundown so as not to scare me away. I couldn’t imagine what he might have come up with if he’d believed I was more open-minded. In fact, he hadn’t frightened me at all. I was intrigued, and wondering what he had actually done rather than just fantasised about. Or if some of the activities disgusted him, and he wanted to be sure I wasn’t excited at the idea of a faeces-fest.
Because, God in heaven, that would never happen on my watch.
He wanted to see how far I would push boundaries.
Or how low I would go.
Or maybe how high I could fly.
Perhaps I would discover something new about myself within the confines of whatever this arrangement was that Dorian Holder was creating. Would a love affair with this man release me from my self-imposed limitations and self-doubt? Could a few weeks of intense sex and spoiling be the shot of confidence in my arm I needed? At last, was a man willing to allow me the freedom to be fully myself, without shame? Or was he just putting me in a box, like a geeky version of Barbie doll, to take out and play with when he was bored? Because it was becoming clearer to me that when Dorian Holder got Apollyon back on its feet he would take off in his private plane, back to whatever it was he’d left behind in Colorado.
The less I knew of him and his life, the better. That was what I had decided. Instinct told me that the more I discovered, the more I risked falling in love with this man. In a big way, a dangerous way. I wished I’d told him less when we’d played our little game of show-and-tell the night before. Part of me believed the opposite was true from Dorian’s perspective: the more he knew about me, the less he would want to carry on our tryst. And, were I to be completely honest, I wanted him to have it bad for me. Like, really bad, so that I didn’t feel powerless. While I was willing to surrender my body and mind, I had to keep my heart closely guarded from this one.
In retrospect, my processing was way off, too late and fruitless. He had already planted the seed. I had no clue how far and fast I was falling. It’s like when you’re reading your favourite book – or a really trashy one you just can’t put down – on a lazy afternoon. At some point, you turn on the light, barely noticing that twilight has fallen. And after another hour or so passes, you look at the window and are startled to find your ghostly reflection watching you with curiosity.
Because, when you weren’t paying attention, your corner of the world became terribly dark.
Chapter Sixteen
Sleeping Beauty
After wandering into my bedroom only to find a walk-in closet worthy of Carrie from Sex and the City had been built in less than a day (Beatrice nailed it, so to speak), I couldn’t decide whether I felt violated or delighted. Is it possible to feel both? In order to install the closet they’d had to knock out an entire wall, thus shrinking the empty apartment next door considerably. Well, maybe they were renovating that one as well. My beautiful new clothes hung prettily, and there was a shoe tree for all my fancy footwear. I smiled, trying to picture one of the hot workmen hanging up the beautiful new garments with care. They’d done a fine clean-up job, and had left the window open to clear the air. A sweet spring breeze carried the scent of magnolia blooms, and my gauzy curtains flutter
ed like the veil of a running bride.
Hm. None of that.
Oh, also, my bedside table and old trunk remained untouched. Which was nice.
The rest of my bedroom looked forlorn, as much in need of a makeover as I had been. I wished Gwen would call me back. She’d been trying to get me to redecorate my room ever since I’d moved in here. We would have had so much fun, I thought. Or maybe not. Maybe she would have taken one look at my clothes, at my silky hair and smoky eye makeup, and called me a whore. Because that was more or less what she had called me the previous day.
Shit. I missed her already. Though Beatrice Collins was actually growing on me, she was no Gwen Schneider, and as far as I could see had no interest in chumming up with me. It seemed that when Beatrice had those occasional moments of sweetness, she’d be extra gruff afterwards just to keep it confusing. As though showing warmth and vulnerability were a chink in her armour. Kind of reminiscent of … uhm, let me think.
A Western-Buddhist-Friendly chime broke my reverie, and I fished for my slick new phone. ‘Dorian?’
‘No, Lily. Try your mother.’ Ma’s voice was somewhere between concerned and amused. ‘Happy belated birthday, and thanks for finally picking up.’
‘Ma, the past few days have been –’
‘Who is this Dorian Holder, anyway? You left your phone at the office, some man calls me, and –’
‘Please stop and listen, Ma. He’s a long story.’ I slumped on the futon and yanked off my fleshtone heels. ‘Everything’s a long story. Sorry I haven’t got back to you. My weekend spun out of control, and the past couple days have been busy.’
… and are spinning out of control even as we speak.
‘Yeah, well.’ I heard the whistle of a tea kettle in the background, and some clanking around. ‘Lilz, it would be really nice if you’d be in touch more often. I actually Googled the guy who found your phone. He owns Apollyon?’
‘Holder Enterprises owns us, yup. Dorian Holder kind of owns everything,’ I said, rubbing my forehead. ‘Can we talk about this in person, Ma? I want to know whether you’ve had one of these things happen. You said more than once you attract stalkers. This guy is a billionaire stalker, and I’ve found myself –’