Encircled

by Robin Roseau

  Then our first Monday night dinner arrived. I dressed and accepted an escort to her home. Olivia smiled and pulled me into her arms. We kissed, and then I laid my head on her shoulder. “What are you doing, Olivia?”

  “Tonight is a simple dinner, followed by conversation,” she said. “We’re going to play a game.”

  “All right.” Yes, I noticed she didn’t really answer my question.

  We moved to her kitchen. She cooked. It was a simple meal, but she prepared it well. We ate there, quite informally in the kitchen, and then I helped her clean up. “I don’t normally do this myself,” she said. “But my year of being pacified taught me much.”

  “You were a servant?”

  “Of sorts, yes. I won’t say more tonight. Phase two is nearly complete. We need to compile our data. And then there will be a pause before we enter phase three.”

  “Are there phases after that?”

  “Not really,” she replied. “There. The kitchen is spic and span.”

  “So it is,” I agreed.

  She took my hand and led me through the house. We reached a comfortable sitting room, and she pulled me to a sofa. We sat, and she kept my hand. “You have a choice,” she said. “You may offer me your body, or we can play a game.”

  I laughed. “What game?”

  “It is called, Would You Rather. We will take turns. I might say, Would you rather kiss a man or a woman. You answer, and then I do. And then it is your turn to ask.”

  “And how do we determine the winner?”

  “We are winners for playing,” she said. “It is not a competition, although some people become competitive in the questions they ask. That is not my intention.”

  “All right,” I said. “A woman.”

  She laughed. “That wasn’t my question, but sure. A woman. Your turn.”

  “Hmm. Would you rather cook, or watch me cook?”

  “Oh, an excellent question. I made poor rules.”

  “The answer is neither?”

  “I would rather have my servants cook for us, but then feed you from my hand.”

  “Ah, but do you intend to change the rules? That wasn’t one of your choices, and I don’t see any servants.”

  “Fine. I would rather watch you cook.”

  “I am quite happy to let you cook, and I do not require someone to feed me.”

  She laughed. “Very well. Would you rather have your current clientele at the inn, or would you prefer the raucous, bottom-pinching men you used to serve.”

  “Oh, way to slant the question,” I replied. “Your soldiers know how to have a good time, and they intimidate some of us, but they are actually polite guests.

  “I would like an answer, Claary.”

  “It’s impossible to take that question out of context, Olivia, and you know it.”

  “That isn’t true. I want to know if you believe your life has actually gotten a little better. You can tell me it hasn’t, you know.”

  I sighed. “The current clientele is far easier,” I said. “Mother does the books, but she has commented that we’ve had an uptick in business as well. But we know that’s not going to last. You’re sending the soldiers home eventually.”

  “You have to answer.”

  I thought I had. “Fine. I’d prefer the current clientele, but that’s an unfair question.”

  “It’s a perfectly fair question, if you don’t add all the rest of this into it,” she replied. “Your turn.”

  “Would you rather be here or back home.”

  “This is home now,” she said. “I asked for this position.”

  “That isn’t an answer.”

  She laughed. “I would rather be here,” she replied. We played the game back and forth for a while. Then she asked, “In romantic encounters, would you rather take the lead or be courted?”

  “You do know I’m twenty years old,” I said.

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “You act like I’m thirty.”

  “You are a very mature twenty,” she said. “Answer me.”

  “I haven’t exactly had a lot of experience with either, Olivia.”

  “Have you taken the lead in the past?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re following now.”

  “I can’t imagine taking the lead with you,” I said. “The answer depends on the woman. If I say I’d prefer leading, that means I am rejecting your advances.”

  “So you would rather follow.”

  “No, I would rather have the relationship that makes sense with the woman in question. Why is it about who leads?”

  “I’d force an answer, but I don’t think you would let me pin you down. Because you didn’t answer properly, I get another question.”

  “Fine. Ask.”

  “Would you rather I dress the way I do or more like you are tonight?”

  “I would rather you dress however you want.”

  “Your answer is in default of the game, Claary.”

  I looked away. “I don’t want to pick your clothes, Olivia. Frankly, you would look strange. I’m accustomed to you like this.” I turned back. “I suppose that means I’d rather you continue to dress like this.”

  “Because it’s what you know, not because you think I look better.”

  “You look…” I trailed off. “You look quite sexy,” I said.

  She smiled. “Fair enough. Your turn.”

  We played for another half hour. Then we spent a half hour after that kissing and touching on the sofa. She got me worked up then said, “I’d keep you for the night, but I imagine you must be up quite early.”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  “If not before.”

  * * * *

  Things continued. Stress in the city seemed to fade, at least partially. I didn’t know if that would last.

  I knew I wasn’t the only woman receiving personal attention. There were others about town, some receiving open attention, and I knew some was subtler. From what I could tell, all the women receiving this sort of attention were fairly young, 18 to low twenties. I didn’t know of any as old as 25, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.

  I didn’t know what it meant.

  I didn’t personally talk about any of this with anyone, but I helped run an inn. I heard things. I heard one woman express pleasure at the interest and a few others gossiping about women who were openly flaunting their relationships. But more of the women seemed as uncomfortable with the attention as I was.

  I didn’t know what Olivia was really up to, but I realized she either wasn’t going to tell me at all, or wouldn’t tell me until she was good and ready. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I didn’t really have time for her, after all. I didn’t have time for any girlfriend. And while I didn’t think she had lied to me about anything, I didn’t trust her, either. I didn’t like that I had little choice.

  On the other hand, she was a good kisser, and it was hard not to be flattered. Why was nothing ever simple?

  She didn’t come to the inn for several days, and it wasn’t until the following Wednesday that I saw her again. We saw to things after closing, and then she said, “You work such long hours. Why doesn’t your family hire additional help? Can’t you afford it?”

  “We don’t know if this level of business will last.”

  “Then hire someone with the understanding that it might not last,” she said. “Hire two somebodies. Maybe part time. Breakfasts or something.”

  “I’ll mention it to Mother,” I said. Frankly, at least for now, I knew we could afford it, but Mother was frugal, and rightfully so. But when I mentioned it the next day, Mother surprised me and said, “Maybe we should. Let me think about it a few days.”

  Two days later, she hired Shalie Bluebird to work breakfasts five days a week. She gave me two mornings off, Lisbon two, and took the last for herself. I asked for Tuesday mornings. Lisbon asked for Monday and Wednesday. Mother t
ook Thursday and offered Friday for me. It was a good schedule.

  * * * *

  “Good evening, Olivia.”

  She drew me into her arms and kissed me, then pulled me deeper into the house. I thought we’d go to the kitchen, but she led me instead to the sitting room. We sat down, kissed a minute, then she pushed me away. “Tell me your news.”

  “Mother took your advice.”

  “Which advice is that?”

  “We hired someone for mornings. I now get Tuesday and Friday breakfast off.”

  She smiled broadly. “Do you? I find it interesting you are off on Tuesday.”

  “Read into it whatever you want,” I said.

  Her grin broadened, but she didn’t ask.

  We chatted for a while until I said, “Are you cooking tonight?”

  “No, actually. I have servants now.”

  “You hired servants since last we talked.”

  “Not exactly. I had servants; they just weren’t here. I brought two here and will be building slowly.”

  “I see.”

  She took my hands. “So you have my complete attention. We’re going to have a nice dinner, then I am going to introduce you to a form of indulgence I think you’ll love.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “And then I’m taking you to bed.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She grinned again. “I guess we will.”

  * * * *

  I stared at the woman. Olivia said nothing but instead let me think about what I was going to say.

  She was younger than I was, perhaps 18 or 19. She had long, blond hair tied in a ponytail. Nothing about that was unusual.

  It was her clothing that was unexpected. She wore what appeared to be a single, form-fitting outfit from her ankles to her neck. It was tight and showed every curve. I didn’t know what the material was, but it had a shine to it and was bright red.

  “How does she get that on?”

  “I’ll show you some time,” Olivia answered. “This is Bee.”

  “Bee.”

  “Yes.”

  The woman smiled at me, saying nothing. A moment later, her twin stepped through the dining room door pushing a cart. There were platters of food on the cart, but it wasn’t the food that caught my attention.

  The woman was Bee’s twin, or appeared to be, including an identical outfit.

  “And this is Dee,” Olivia said. “They are, as you may have guessed, twin sisters.”

  “Bee and Dee.”

  “The year I spent pacified? I was called simply Oh.”

  “Oh,” I said. “What are their real names.”

  “Tonight, they are Bee and Dee,” Olivia said. “They have no other names.” She shifted her attention. “Serve us.”

  The women saw to our needs. They were quite attentive, and spent the entire time smiling. I had a hard time taking my eyes from them, and once I began to lift my hand to brush it against Dee’s arm, or maybe it was Bee, but then I pulled back.

  “Go ahead,” Olivia said. “She won’t mind.”

  “Maybe later,” I said.

  “You’re curious, Claary. You’re supposed to be.”

  “This is some sort of show for me.”

  “It’s more than that. We’ll talk about it a little later, and more in two weeks.”

  “That’s my birthday.”

  “You’ll turn 21. I know. I expect you here, Claary.”

  I lowered my gaze and ate quietly. It was hard to avoid looking at the girls.

  Olivia talked casually for a while, but she knew I was distracted. Finally I said, “They’re pacified, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain the next time you come,” she said. “For tonight, you will experience. I will answer all your questions in two weeks.”

  “All of them?”

  “Every question I can envision you asking. Tonight, I want you to simply experience the evening.”

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  We ate for another few minutes, then Olivia said, “They really are quite stunning, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you prefer them over me?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “Would you rather take the two of them to bed, or let me take you to bed?”

  I tore my eyes from the girls and looked at Olivia. “I’m not playing this game tonight.”

  “All right,” she said gently. “So that means you can’t decide. That’s fine. How is the lamb?”

  “The lamb is perfect,” I said. I wondered if she was talking about the dinner, one of the twins, or perhaps me.

  * * * *

  “There’s a price to those questions I promised,” she said after dinner.

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “You must let tonight happen.”

  “You mean I have to sleep with you tonight, and you’ll answer my questions next time.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. No. I’ll answer your questions whether you spend the night or not. But short of that, you must relax and not overthink anything.”

  “Then you shouldn’t ask me any more ‘would you rather’ questions.”

  She laughed. “Fair enough. The girls should be ready now. Come.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “No overthinking,” she said. “Come.” She stood and took my hands. I let her pull me from the sitting room. She led me to what I thought would turn out to be a bedroom. It may have been previously, but instead of beds, there were two padded tables, side-by-side. The twins were waiting, kneeling before the door, their heads bowed.

  I came to a stop, but Olivia tugged on my hand, and I let her lead me the rest of the way. “Pick one.”

  “For what?”

  “Just pick one, Claary,” she said. “You could try trusting me.”

  “Fine. I can’t tell them apart.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “I’ll take the one on the left.”

  “All right. Girls, undress us.”

  “Olivia!”

  “Those are massage tables, Claary. Really. Let it happen. Please.”

  “Fine.”

  Both girls rose. They took their time undressing us, and they both brushed us with their slickly-gloved hands as they did so. I found it distracting, but when I reached out and brushed my hands against Bee’s arm, she paused, letting me touch her.

  “That feels good, doesn’t it?” Olivia said.

  I had nothing but questions, but I nodded. “It is quite unusual.”

  Bee let me stroke her arm again, and then I dropped my hand. She finished undressing me, and then Olivia gestured to the tables. We each climbed into place and got comfortable, and after a moment, Bee began to slather me in oils. Dee was doing the same with Olivia.

  It took almost no time before I was moaning in pleasure. Bee didn’t just use her hands. She used much of her body, and the way her outfit slid against my oiled skin felt quite good.

  “I told you you’d like it,” Olivia said.

  I zoned out to the massage.

  * * * *

  I didn’t really come to awareness until after the girls were done. I was still on the table but with a towel over me. Olivia stood beside her own table, clad in a bathrobe. She was holding a second for me.

  I sat up then blinked at her. Olivia smiled and openly admired my body. Then she stepped over and helped me into the robe before moving between my legs and kissing me.

  She was a good kisser.

  “Come to bed with me,” she whispered. “Stay the night.”

  “All right.”

  Birthday

  Olivia kissed me. “Happy birthday,” she said.

  “I’m nervous.”

  “I know,” she replied. “Thank you for coming early.” She pushed away and looked into my eyes. “I want to show you something. Then we’ll talk. All right?”

  “All right.”

  She
took my hand, leading me through the house. I didn’t realize where we were going until we stepped into the same room as last time. Bee and Dee were waiting. We came to a stop. “Let Dee relax you,” she said. “Trust me.”

  I nodded. Olivia gave an order, and then the girls undressed us. I climbed onto the table, and Dee went to work.

  It felt so good. I zoned out. And so at first I didn’t realize what she was doing until it was too late to struggle.

  Dee strapped me to the table, a strap over my hips, and my hands locked into place on a little shelf to each side of the table. I began to complain, but she did my legs as well, spread apart, not together.

  “Shh,” Olivia said. “I knew you wouldn’t accept this part, but I’m not giving you a choice. If you continue to protest, she has orders to gag you.”

  “Dee,” I said firmly. “Release me. Now!” I used my most commanding tone. The girl didn’t release me. She snugged the straps down, and then she went to work massaging my bottom. “I thought they would follow orders.”

  “They follow my orders,” she said. “Later, I’ll explain why they won’t follow yours.”

  Dee used more oil, and her hands felt good, but I was getting pissed off. “Why are you doing this?”

  “It is part of answering your questions,” Olivia replied. “Now, she’ll do anything to you that you ask, if she thinks you’ll enjoy it. Well, except she won’t let you go. If you don’t give her orders, she’ll come up with ideas of her own. Enjoy, Claary. If you don’t want this to go to the natural conclusion, it doesn’t have to, but I think you should relax and let her do what she wants.”

  “This is wrong.”

  “Do her hands feel good?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Dee, do you enjoy what you’re doing?”

  “Yes, Lady Olivia.”

  “Do you want to stop?”

  “No, Lady Olivia.”

  “This is wrong.”

  “You’re stuck there for an hour if you want your questions answered,” Olivia said. “You can tell her to massage your feet, if you want. I wouldn’t have it be said I had you raped. If you complain again, I’m kicking you out. You get no answers, and no more attention from me.”

  “Why?”

  She closed her eyes. “That feels lovely, Bee. Do to me anything that Claary asks Dee to do to her.”