by Sky Corgan
The muscles in her neck pop out beneath the skin like strings wound too tightly. It seems as if she's caught off guard by my sudden discontent. Then her expression softens, and we're blessed by the presence of the waiter who promptly takes our drink and food order. I sigh internally, grateful for the distraction.
“How is your family?” My eyes follow the waiter until he disappears into the kitchen area.
“Good. Nothing much new to report.” She readjusts her silverware so that it's straight on the table. “I picked up a part-time job working at the cafeteria at Scarside Elementary School.”
“Do you like it?” I ask, knowing well the answer.
“It's alright. It keeps me and your uncle from killing each other.” She smirks.
I know things have been a bit strained with their relationship since my uncle retired. Aunt Alyce once told me that it's like getting to know the person you're married to all over again. They spent so much time apart during their working years that they forgot a lot about each other. Now that they're both home all the time, the dynamic of their relationship has changed.
“And I thought that retirement was supposed to be some of the best years of your life.” I grin.
“Some of the most boring years of your life.” She rolls her eyes. “It was great until your uncle retired. He drives me nuts now. The job is a good thing.”
“I can only imagine,” I reply, turning my attention to the waiter as he returns with our drinks. He sets a glass of ice water in front of me, and I immediately shove my straw into it and gulp down half of the glass.
“Speaking of work, have you found anything yet?” She tears open two packets of Sweet'N Low and dumps their contents into her tea.
“I just started looking today. I put in my application at a few companies looking for Accountants, bookkeepers, accounts payable, anything to get my foot in the door.” I wrap my hands around the glass of water, feeling the condensation against my skin.
“I've got something for you though I don't know if it's anything you'd be interested in,” she says before stirring her tea.
“I'm listening.”
“There's this woman—a friend of mine. She's looking for someone to take care of her house and do chores and run errands. A housekeeper of sorts. I'm not sure how much she's planning on paying, but I know she has a lot of money.”
Definitely something I'm not interested in. Still, if she thinks I can get the job, it might not hurt to do it for a little while. If I can stand the woman, that is. Rich, entitled people really aren't my type.
“Does she have any kids?” That would be a deal breaker. The job already doesn't sound appealing.
“She has a son that she talks about, but he's all grown up. I really don't know too much. I've only met her a few times. She does charity work with the church. That's how I met her.”
A bible thumper to boot. Maybe at least that means she's not a complete bitch. Religious people are typically nice. I'd probably have to mind my p's and q's around her, though, watch my mouth, be more polite than I normally would be.
“Well, I do need a job.” I sigh, wondering if it's even worth my time. Housekeepers don't make much. Anything is better than nothing, though, especially if it keeps me out of the house.
“I'll give you her number then.” My aunt smiles as she pulls her purse up onto the table and rummages through it for her cell phone to give me the woman's number.
CHAPTER FOUR
The house is underwhelmingly small for belonging to a rich person. It's in the better part of town, but I'd hardly call it a mansion. I find myself looking at the address that I scratched down on a piece of paper to make sure I'm at the right place. 1454 James Avenue. Yup, I'm at the right place. How disappointing. Part of me wants to put my car in reverse, back out of the driveway and leave. But I already told the woman that I was coming. Ann Longworth. Her name sounds like money. This house though...
I take a deep breath and smooth down the front of my dress. The second I left the restaurant I made a call to Mrs. Longworth, mostly out of desperation to stay away from home. Since I don't particularly care if I get the job or not, I didn't bother going home to change. I look good enough. My long, black hair is brushed down over my shoulders. My makeup is subtle. The dress makes me look sweet. This will do. It will have to because there's no going back now.
I walk down the pathway leading up to the oak door. The door is stained dark, a nice touch, giving the house a more expensive look. For a moment, I think about knocking, but then I notice a button for an intercom on the wall. With a smirk, I press it, feeling a bit awkward, considering I've never used one before.
“Mrs. Longworth. It's Piper Gravatt. I'm here for a job interview.”
The intercom crackles to life. “I'll be there in a minute.”
Internally, I try to match a face to the voice. This woman is supposedly in her mid-fifties, but she sounds much older. When the door opens, I'm surprised that she looks much older too. Pulled back into a low ponytail, her hair is a mix of blonde and white and gray. Her skin is smooth, but it still has that aged look, like soft leather. Her eyes are a pale shade of blue, kind but weary.
“Piper. I'm Mrs. Longworth, but you can call me Ann. Nice to meet you.” She extends a thin hand to me, and I take it, shaking it gently.
“The pleasure is all mine, Ann.” I nod respectfully.
“Don't you look lovely.” She takes a step back to look me up and down. “Alyce never told me that you were such a pretty, young thing.”
“Oh. I'm sorry I'm not dressed more appropriately.” I feel oddly embarrassed by her comment.
“You look fine.” She makes a swatting gesture, silently telling me not to worry about it. “It's not like this is a corporate job. No need to be so stuffy. Come on in.”
I walk into the house, my eyes wandering over the walls to all of the paintings of landscapes. The interior decorating is very feminine. There are fresh flower arrangements on every table. The tile in the entryway is an ugly terracotta color, and the carpet that it leads into is an even uglier pale shade of pink.
“Welcome to my home.” She leads me into the living room, and I try not to wrinkle my nose at the bright red furniture with gold accents. The pillows are placed so perfectly that I'm scared to sit down and disturb them.
“This is a nice place.” I wrap my arms around myself.
“Sit.” She points to the loveseat, and I carefully lower myself onto it. “Would you like some tea?”
“No, thank you.” I shake my head, not wanting to be a bother.
Ann takes a seat on the chair diagonal from me, folding her hands in her lap and staring at me intently. “Tell me a little about yourself.”
“Well, I recently moved here from Utah. I assume you know why I moved.” My expression is uncertain, and I pray she doesn't make me elaborate. Explaining the circumstances is awkward, but I know that I'll have to if she asks.
“That's no business of mine.” She stands. “Would you mind if I get myself something to drink.”
“No. Go right ahead.”
“Make yourself at home, dear.” Ann smiles at me before leaving to presumably go to the kitchen.
I sink back into the loveseat, ever mindful of the pillows. The house smells like peppermint and flowers, a strange mix. Ann seems to be very trusting, leaving a stranger alone in her living room. Then again, I don't see anything around worth stealing. Not that there aren't things of value.
She returns with a cup of tea balanced on a saucer and reclaims her seat. The small teacup has roses on the side and a golden rim. I can't help but wonder if it's real china or something fake made to look pretentious, though I highly doubt that's her intention.
“So, what all would the job entail?” I cut to the chase, wanting to get straight to figuring out if this is something I'm going to be willing to do or not. There's no point in wasting either of our time.
“Nothing too strenuous. I've recently run into some health issues that have made doing
things around here a bit too much for me. I'm not an invalid though and I like to feel useful. I think I really just want someone around in case I can't do things, if that makes sense.” She quirks her head slightly as if she doesn't expect I'll get her meaning. I kind of don't. It sounds more like she wants a babysitter or a friend than anything else.
For a moment, I think about asking what kind of health problems she's talking about. While caring for her home doesn't sound too bad, I don't want to eventually end up having to wipe her ass. I'm not a nurse, after all. But I greatly respect that she didn't pry about why I moved here, so I'm not going to pry about her health issues. If the job turns into more than I can handle, I can always bail.
“I assumed it would be typical housekeeping duties. Cleaning, cooking, stuff like that.” I glance around the room, wondering if she doesn't already have a housekeeper. The place is spotless.
“It will be from time to time. Probably the bigger jobs like vacuuming. I'll occasionally have you make me lunch and help me in my garden. You'll also be taking me to doctor's appointments and running other various errands for me if I don't feel like it. And then there's the matter of my charity work. I used to do a lot for various organizations, but I've slowed down recently. I'd like you to pick up my slack where you can.”
“What type of charity work?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“All kinds. Bake sales, food and clothing drives, raffles. I was doing it to keep myself busy.” A sad smile crosses her lips, and I can feel a sense of loss coming from her. “Even though it's harder for me to do those things, I still want to be a part of them. It's just...life has taken a toll.”
“I don't think that would be an issue. It might even be fun.” I perk up a bit, wanting to draw her away from whatever negative thoughts are plaguing her. Oddly, I feel a connection to her. She's far sweeter than I could have imagined and seems like a genuinely nice person. Maybe working for her wouldn't be so bad.
“Mostly, though, I just want company. I've been alone for so long.” She looks around the room as if the house is all consuming.
“There's no Mr. Longworth?” I ask timidly.
“No.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head, looking solemn. “He died of a heart attack two years ago.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“It's alright, dear. Life happens. Death happens. We learn to get through it.” She takes a sip of her tea and then places the cup and saucer on the glass coffee table.
“It does.” My expression goes deadpan as I think of my own situation. She's dealt with loss recently. Perhaps her experience and wisdom can help me heal. It's a selfish thing to want from my potential employer, but I feel so lost right now.
“Do you have any experience being a housekeeper?”
The question catches me off guard, drawing my attention back to her. For a second, I'm speechless, wondering how much the answer matters. Then I shake my head. “No.”
“No matter. It's not like it takes a lot to figure out how to turn on a vacuum cleaner. Besides, you seem like a sweet girl. And if Alyce trusts you, then I know I can too.” She beams at me, her sudden happiness practically forcing a smile out of me.
“I think I can figure it out.” I wrinkle my nose, and she lets out a short laugh.
“Not exactly rocket science, is it?” She leans forward as if it's a secret.
“Not quite. Though some of those newer models.” I tilt my head to the side, and she laughs again.
“I think you'll work swimmingly.” She tips back in her chair in delight.
My smile falters as I think of one more important matter. I almost hate to bring it up, but it doesn't seem like she's going to discuss it if I don't.
I cough to get her attention, hoping that I don't look as guilty as I feel. “So what would my pay rate be, exactly?”
“Oh, of course. That's the most important thing, isn't it?” She draws her hands up to her face as if it's a travesty that she forgot to mention it first. “I was thinking fifteen dollars an hour. I have no idea how much people typically pay for these types of things.”
My mouth falls agape in surprise at how much she's willing to pay for a job that normally only pays minimum wage. “Fifteen dollars an hour sounds great. And how many hours per week?”
“Part time at first, I think. Starting on Monday.”
I sulk a bit. Realistically, I knew the job would only be part-time. I was hoping for full-time employment though. Oh well. This is why it's a go-between job. Just something until I find a better one.
“That works for me.”
“Great.” She clasps her hands together, looking genuinely pleased. “I'll see you on Monday then.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I spend the remainder of the afternoon stowed away in my room avoiding the boys and waiting for night to come. I know exactly what I'm going to do to distract myself tonight. The one thing that always works to distract me.
By 11 PM, I'm dressed and ready to go. My red corset is laced up so tightly that my tits are almost spilling over the top. The short leather skirt I'm wearing hugs my ass and shows off my curves. I'm a Dom's wet dream. A dream that will be someone's reality tonight.
I grab my clutch off of my dresser and take a deep breath as I stand in front of the mirror to make sure my hair is lying perfectly. Then I open up the bedroom door and head to the garage, not even acknowledging the two boys sitting on the sofa in the living room playing video games. It's a dick thing to do, but part of me doesn't want them to see me like this. Hell, I had half a mind to yell at them to go to bed before I even started to get ready. They don't need to know what their big sister does to bury her sorrows.
I frown at myself as I sit behind the steering wheel in my car. It's not shameful, what I do. Tons of men go out every night to sleep with a different woman. Why can't it be the other way around? Doing this always felt empowering to me...until I came home and realized I needed to start being responsible. I'm not ready for that though. Not yet. And why should being responsible have to include sexual confinement? I need to live too. I'm still young.
I shake my head, deciding not to think about the boys or this life anymore. Once I'm out of the garage and down the street, the house no longer exists. They no longer exist. My shitty life no longer exists. The night is all about having fun and experiencing what I missed out on the night before when I went to Club Fet with Gloria. Tonight, I will be in the arms of a powerful Dominant.
I listen to the radio to clear my mind. By the time I reach the club, I'm in seduce and destroy mode. The parking lot is packed, the complete opposite of what it was last night when we came too early. Now there will definitely be things to see. Interesting people and scenes and everything dark and sexual that I've been craving. My body heats up just thinking about it, my nipples perking against the lining of my corset.
I step out of the car and walk up to the club entrance like a supermodel, one long leg in front of the other, confidence oozing out of every pore. I know I look like sex on fire, and I plan to use my body to get exactly what I want.
As soon as I step into the club, several heads turn to look my way. The music is thumping so loudly that I can barely hear anything over it. Laser lights flash across the dance floor where there are more bodies grinding on each other than can be counted. Every once in a while, I'll hear the crack of a whip, but there's no way to tell where it's coming from. Probably from the back. That's where all of the play areas are.
I stroll over to the bar and lean against it to get the bartender's attention. Unlike last time, I didn't bring any alcohol with me. If I find a Dom, he'll likely be willing to share. For now, I need to keep my wits about me.
“Water please,” I say when the bartender comes to me.
My eyes fall to her tits and I stare unabashedly. Looking isn't a crime here. She's older than me, perhaps by ten or fifteen years. That hasn't stopped her from dressing extremely sexy, though. The corset she's wearing is brown and black and has a steampunk feel to it. Her curly hair is
held up in a high ponytail. She's a bit chubby, but I greatly admire her confidence. That's one thing I love about these places. The body is celebrated. It doesn't matter what size or shape you are. Everyone is welcome. Everyone is wanted.
I smile as she slides a bottle of water in front of me. Then I shove a five in her tip jar, feeling in a particularly good mood. This is the first time since returning to Boston that I feel truly free. There's no uptight friend to hold me back. It's just me and whatever happens tonight. So liberating.
I twist the cap off of the bottle and take a long drink before turning around and coming face to face with a smooth hairless chest. My eyes trail up to a delicious Adam's apple, short blonde stubble, and then the most amazing blue eyes.
“Fancy seeing you here again.” Sir Tall grins wickedly down at me.
My heart flutters and any words that I might have spoken get lodged in my throat. “You as well,” I manage finally though it sounds pathetic.
I need to recompose myself so that I don't come across as weak. I'm not like other submissives, and I refuse to be intimidated.
He slides a hand around my waist, making a pleasant shiver roll down my body and settle at my core as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “I thought I'd come get you alone before someone else did.”
“We're not exactly alone.” I hint towards my desire for him to take me into one of the private play areas.
“Did you come with someone?” He straightens himself, his expression hardening slightly.
“No.” I shake my head, looking coy. “I'm here all by my lonesome.”
“You said we're not alone though.”
“We're not.” I look out across the crowd. “There are people all around us. Did you come with someone tonight?”
“I always come with someone.” He smirks. “Who I leave with is a completely different story, though.”
“Such a bad boy.” I grab the zipper at the front of his vinyl shirt and pull it down half an inch. His whole outfit is vinyl, tight-fitting and shiny. Briefly, I wonder if he had it custom made. He's way too tall to have been able to buy it from a store.
