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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Being Their Baby by Korey Mae Johnson – Serialization (Part One)

Being Their Baby by Korey Mae Johnson – Serialization (Part One)

Chapter One

Sophie Lynn Benny checked her face in the mirror and sighed after glancing at her reflection. The lawyers were going to have a serious problem with her if they saw her looking so “unprofessional”… and today she certainly did. She hadn’t, nor could she afford, any more makeup to cover the bruises on her eye, cheek, and lip.

It didn’t matter, really. She wasn’t actually going to get fired because her face was black and blue. She was more likely to get fired because she was sleeping in the attic of the business complex like some homeless person.

Losing two jobs in one week? That sounded a lot like her luck.

She rolled her eyes at herself and at her stupid life. Most of the people she worked with wouldn’t care about her getting canned; after working there for nearly two years, her boss still thought her name was “Stephanie,” for God’s sake. She could come in deformed and she would doubt that man would notice. It was the lawyers in the building that didn’t like grungy chicks. They were one-hundred percent about perception, and Sophie knew that having a teenager running around with a mangled face wasn’t going to make them swell with pride.

C’mon, Soph—you’re not the crypt keeper or anything, she granted herself. She had gotten to shower. The complex did have facilities for their employees who liked to ride in on their bicycles. And since it was January, there were very few of those; she’d washed herself without anyone seeing her.

As soon as she walked into the mail room and clocked in, she saw her boss coming through the door. “You’re here early, Stephanie,” her boss grunted, as if he was annoyed by it.

“Yeah…” She cleared her throat, trying to scrounge together a little bit of extra courage. She didn’t have her second job anymore, she had a slew of extra expenses, and she needed more work. “Look, do you have any extra hours—doing anything—that I can pick up?”

“Not at your pay grade,” he grunted, and found the donut his fat fingers were looking for.

She was desperate enough for money that she said, “Well, as long as I get extra work, I don’t mind doing something for less than someone else would. All I need is the extra hours.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind, either, but the union would. Can’t have you do something for less money than they’re supposed to get.”

“I was thinking, though… I’ve been here for about two years now. Is there any hope for a rai—?”

“No,” her boss assured, sitting at his desk.

“Okay… Any jobs maybe I could move up to that make more?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because I—”

“Did you already punch in?” Her boss looked annoyed.

“Yeah,” she chirped.

“Then you’re wasting my time. You’re on the clock.” He waved his hairy knuckles toward the door. “Mail. Now. Get.”

Sophie trudged out to the main foyer and collected the mail that the post office left in huge vats, and loaded them onto her cart, stewing.

There was no way for her to get ahead; when she first got this job here, she thought she was smarter than the average bear! All the other high school dropouts were working in McDonalds or at the local KFC.

Now, it was beginning to feel like even though she wasn’t covered with chicken fat, fast food would have been the way to go. She might have been a manager by now, making twelve dollars an hour, with all the extra hours she could shake a fist at!

By the afternoon, she had managed to steep herself into a depression. She had been turning her situation around in her mind all morning and, for the life of her, she couldn’t see any light at the end of this depressingly long and dark tunnel. It seemed like she might be stuck in this rut for quite a while. Her meager thousand-dollar-a-month salary couldn’t buy her both a place to live and basic essentials, could it?

She’d be lucky if she found anyone on the planet who would rent to her—a just-turned eighteen-year-old with no money, no savings, no credit card, no references. Although she could save money on not eating; after last night when her stepdad punched her in the mouth with all the strength the dock-worked man had in his arm, she lost the ability to eat solid foods without crying a little. She seemed to have a tooth that was all wrong.

She rolled her mail cart through the cubicles, eventually stopping at the offices. She frowned, feeling a nervous tug-of-war going within her stomach as she eyed the plaque on the door that bore very intimidating gold letters:

ELIZABETH R. BUTTON, Esq.

SENIOR PARTNER

There was something about Elizabeth Button that always gave Sophie pause. Elizabeth might have come from a different planet than Sophie. Both of them working in the same building was probably against the laws of modern science that claimed that things as different as they were would explode in a burst of energy whenever they came into contact.

Elizabeth was a high-class, important, a ridiculously successful corporate lawyer, and what the newspapers called, ‘The Devil in Red Heels.’ Elizabeth was a wealthy, well-sought-after legal genius, but looked like someone who should be on the cover of Vogue Magazine.

The red stilettos she always wore were her calling card. They weren’t just casually red—they were hot-rod red. She didn’t need heels; Elizabeth was easily six feet tall without them. Her brown hair was flawless and always pinned tightly back in a perfect bun. Her nails were long and French-manicured to perfection. Her eyebrows were arched, her cheekbones were high and pronounced, and her neck was swan-like. She was like the queen of the supermodels, only she had an old-school aristocracy feel about her.

Sophie always felt bad about herself when Elizabeth was near. In comparison, Sophie was a frumpy, awkward, sad little creature who didn’t even seem to belong to the same species. There was nothing Sophie wanted to do more than to hate Elizabeth Button.

That was just the problem. It was impossible to hate Elizabeth Button; despite Sophie’s presence in the building for over two years, Ms. Button was the only person who knew her name was Sophie—actually, Sophia. Even more so, she was the only person in the building who would seek Sophie out to talk to her.

Sophie sighed; it was odd to admit to herself that she had sort of a schoolgirl crush on Elizabeth Button, but only because she normally wasn’t a lesbian. If Sophie could describe herself, she’d say she was only gay for Elizabeth. The woman made Sophie’s stomach feel like butterflies were on parade. Elizabeth was a goddess.

The problem today was that Sophie didn’t want to see her; Elizabeth was too much of a nice person… when she wasn’t being a lawyer, at least. She didn’t seem content to just sit on her pedestal above the rest of human civilization; she was one of those people who’d try to get involved. She would take one look at Sophie’s face and make a big stink about it. As it was, Elizabeth had taken an interest in Sophie, enough to constantly say annoying things like, “You let me know the instant you need anything! Anything at all.

Just like all upper-class successful people, Elizabeth didn’t mean she actually wanted to be bothered with Sophie’s problems. Elizabeth just wanted to hear happy things and good news. And she would… just as soon as Sophie had experienced some good fortune to report.

She pursed her lips together, as if that would help make a package by Elizabeth Button not be on her mail cart. Of course, Elizabeth had a huge package and all the wishing in the world wasn’t going to make it disappear.

Sophie saw that Elizabeth’s secretary was busy pushing back her cuticles on her fingernails diligently, and that Elizabeth’s office door was closed. Sophie wheeled her cart over and saw through the small window on the office door that Elizabeth was on the phone. This was good—Elizabeth would be too busy, so Sophie could just leave her mail and her package with the secretary. “So,” Sophie said with a smirk, “can I leave this with you?”

“No,” her secretary replied, rotating her fingers around before she pulled out a nail file. “You can go in. It’s nothing too important.”

Sophie rolled her eyes and decided that she’d just go in, drop the package on the empty chair across from Elizabeth, turn, and go. It was more than possible to go in and then leave without Elizabeth barely even looking in her direction—it always worked when Sophie had done it with all the other lawyers in the building.

She grabbed all the mail and the package, and quietly opened the door.

Just as Sophie had placed the package where she’d planned to and was heading back out with her fingers just grazing the door handle, the conversation behind her broke. “Sophia,” Elizabeth’s firm voice said, “not so fast.”

Sophie stilled, shrinking away from the door as if the gravity in the entire room had just doubled. She’d been so, so close to getting away without a fuss.

“Well, it’s not as though you hate your job,” she was saying on the other line. “Pick up the extra game. Really. We can do Thanksgiving on Wednesday night instead. Tell Josh to work the holiday, too. We’ll all work and then we’ll all get together off at the same time. It’s not a big deal.” She paused and juggled the receiver in her hand. “…You too.”

Sophie heard Elizabeth hang up the phone and turned the “good side” of her face toward her just as Elizabeth said, “Sophia!” There was a note of friendly happiness to her tone. “Sit down.”

“Actually, I have a lot of deliveries to make here. And photocopies, and then I have to take lunch orders from everybody, and you know, I’m pressed for time. Busy, busy, busy…” Sophie hedged, wrapping her hand around the door handle again.

“I’m busy too,” Elizabeth replied, her voice far firmer than it was a moment ago, “that’s why I don’t like repeating myself. Now sit.”

“No time,” Sophie tried again, opening the door.

“Are you avoiding me?” she asked. “Come on, kiddo. I didn’t get to chat with you yesterday. Tell me how your birthday went! Eighteen’s big! Did you do anything fun?”

Sophie gave a resigned sigh and closed the door.

There was no use hiding it. Sophie slowly turned toward Elizabeth, where the woman was poising for some good news, like she wanted to hear about a party where everyone drank tea, ate cakes, and wore pretty dresses.

Sophie guessed that that was how they celebrated birthdays in Cape Cod, where Elizabeth was from. Again—Cape Cod might as well have been a whole other planet than Southie.

She sat down and turned her face fully to Liz, thinking she was going to look squarely on as if she was proud to have endured her rough life. But she ended up losing her nerve, down-casting her eyes, and chewing on her bottom lip a little. When Elizabeth gasped, Sophie flinched with shame.

Elizabeth shot up from her chair and walked around to the other side of the desk to grab Sophie’s chin with her fingers in a way that was both firm and gentle. “What happened to you?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Sophie assured, trying to sound more blasé than nervous. “It’s cool. Nothin’ to worry about. I’ve taken care of it.”

“Who did this to you?” Liz snapped, sounding angry at something, but Sophie wasn’t sure at what or with whom. Sophie could already tell that the old, reliable ‘I fell’ excuse wasn’t going to cut the mustard with Liz.

Sophie tried it anyway. “Nothin’,” she lied, straightening her shoulders with confidence she didn’t really have. “I fell, that’s all.”

Elizabeth’s lips puckered slightly as if Sophie was a toy poodle who’d just piddled on her red stilettos. “Young lady,” Elizabeth scolded like a stern headmistress. “I will not have anyone look me right in my face and lie to me. Now, who did this?”

Sophie dropped her eyes to the floor again, her cheeks heating. “My stepdad,” she mumbled, nearly inaudibly.

She’d apparently heard it anyway and acted as badly as Sophie anticipated, because Liz stomped back around the desk and picked up the phone.

“But it’s okay, because—” Sophie said, waving her hands in front of her.

“It’s not okay, Sophia,” she retorted, punching her finger down on the number pad. “You’re a high schooler! I’m calling protective services.” She put the phone to her shoulder.

Sophie jumped up from her chair, grabbed the phone from where Liz was balancing it between her cheek and shoulder, and hung it up in a single, swift movement, crying, “I’m eighteen, Liz! Nobody gives a rat about any of this! The only thing you can do is get someone to bully my stepdad, and that’d backfire on me. Let me just lie low and figure out my own life.”

“What?” Liz challenged. “And let you go back to a place where they abuse you? Is this the first time this has happened?”

“That’s none of your business,” Sophie found herself gritting. Liz frowned at her, looking suddenly very sad and taken aback. Sophie shook her head and changed her tone. “I’m a big girl. I can deal with this. And I moved out after; I got a new place, and I’m good. Leave it be.”

Elizabeth looked at her long and hard in the way children might do when trying to solve Magic-Eye posters. Sophie could nearly hear the gears in her brain churn as she worked through Sophie’s situation.

Sophie puffed out her chest, hoping that what she wanted, which was no big stink to be thrown, was what Elizabeth wanted as well.

Finally, Elizabeth sighed, loudly and unhappily. “I don’t like bastards thinking they can get away with stuff like that!” she huffed. “Why would he do this to you? Did you get bad grades in school or something?”

Sophie tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. She was unsure if Elizabeth had gripped reality hard enough today. “Um… Miss Button,” Sophie said, “I haven’t gone to school for, like, two years now. They can’t make you go after sixteen.” Sophie had never said anything before about this, positive that Elizabeth couldn’t have possibly been thinking Sophie was actually attending school, because she was at the office all day long and she had mentioned that she worked in the evenings at her second job.

Elizabeth’s face began to pale with sympathy and sadness. Sophie firmed up her bottom lip, hating that look. The woman really had thought that Sophie was on the college track, and now she had the nerve to be disappointed about the obvious reality she had been ignoring.

Sophie sighed and opened her hands as if physically grasping at patience. “Look, Steve—my stepdad—just saw that I had some stuff, you know, because of the gift card you got me. He sort of went off the deep end, and I’m used to it. I can handle myself.”

That gift-card was the single most generous gift Sophie had ever gotten from anyone. The temperatures this year had been record-breaking low for this time of year, and Elizabeth had been obliged to give Sophie a birthday gift of unusual size: she had handed Sophie an envelope with a five-hundred-dollar gift certificate to Kohl’s, with instructions that Sophie had to buy a new coat with it, since all it seemed she owned was an old hoodie (which was a correct assessment). Although Sophie was normally loath to accept charity, she had been also extremely happy about the prospect of buying something that was both warm and new. She bought a coat and saved the rest for later, unable to make any decisions about what to get. Once Steve saw her wearing a jacket so obviously not from a secondhand store, the evening turned into a full-scale inquisition pretty fast. In the end, he’d demanded that she give him the rest of her gift.

After she had refused and clutched her wallet like it was life support, Steve had smacked her a few times before he let fly a punch, and then had taken it out of Sophie’s hands. Her mother had just watched the whole exchange with a jealous glare, as if Sophie had been keeping it from her, too.

“He took it from you, didn’t he?” Elizabeth quickly pieced together.

“After I got my jacket,” she assured, not mentioning how her stepfather had thrown it into the dumpster, just to spite her. Sophie had had to dig the jacket out and mourn at the old beer and lunchmeat stains on it.

Elizabeth shook her head, ran her fingers over her temples like she had a headache, and then dropped her arms altogether, looking incredulous. “I am so, so sorry, Sophie,” she told her, and then began to fish for her wallet in her purse. “How can I help?”

Sophie stifled an eye roll. This was also one of the things she feared Elizabeth would do—waste even more money on her. “No, I’m cool! Really, I got a place! Besides, I meant to move out soon, anyway; it’s not like I had an open invitation to stay at Mom’s as long as I wanted or anything.”

“How much?” Elizabeth clarified, ignoring her.

“I’m not accepting anything else,” Sophie refused stubbornly, even tensing her shoulders and crossing her arms in front of her.

Elizabeth looked up, challenging her for a long, frightening moment with her stare. Sophie did a good job at not pissing her pants from it, so Elizabeth just shook her head with exasperation and pulled a simple card out of her purse—in lieu of her wallet—and handed it to Sophie. “Take it,” she instructed as Sophie kept her arms crossed, yet leaned forward to suspiciously inspect it.

To avoid another stare-down, Sophie pinched the card between two fingers and brought it up to her face. It had Elizabeth’s personal number on it. Sophie flushed, feeling quite honored, since Elizabeth was sort of a celebrity, yet she actually trusted a girl on the other side of the tracks with her contact information.

Sophie would never, ever use it, of course, but the gesture wasn’t lost on her.

Elizabeth looked very somber. “That has my cell and my home phone number on it, Sophie. If you need anything—ever—I want you to swallow your pride and call me. Day or night. Got it?”

Sophie nodded and turned the card around in her hands like one would an ornament or a knickknack they thought was quite clever.

Elizabeth pointed one of her nails in Sophie’s face. “Put it in your pocket before I tattoo that number to your forehead.”

Sophie immediately complied, stuffing the card into her jeans’ back pocket. “Can I go back to work now?” Sophie asked wearily, as if she’d been put upon by Elizabeth’s concern.

“Yes, but I’ll be checking up on you,” Elizabeth announced; it sounded very much like a threat. In the next moment her eyes softened from their normal intensity. “Don’t try to avoid me just because I care, okay?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes, Ma’am… Thanks,” she added shyly, and then hightailed it out of the room.

A Few Days Later

“I’ve never said it before, but after commentating for three games in a row, I’m really hating football.” Charlie put his big, solid arm around Liz and pulled her against his chest as she sat on the sofa, clicking through emails on her cellphone with frustration. “After I saw the Cowboys spank the Packers like little schoolgirls, I really just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. But my makeup girl told me she’d kill me if I did that.”

Liz gave a hum in reply to pretend she was listening to him. She was in no mood to laugh; it had been days since Liz had seen hide or hair of Sophie. The week had been short because of Thanksgiving for the office, but Sophie hadn’t come in at all. She hadn’t called in, either; she had just disappeared.

Charlie leaned over, trying to entice a kiss out of her. She pecked his lips dutifully and then rested her head against him, even though she wasn’t a particularly cuddly person with him.

They used to share a girlfriend—one that used to give Charlie all the cuddles that he required. That relationship had ended last month, and now the man seemed to be going through withdrawals; he was trying to cuddle on her far more than she’d remembered him doing in the past.

Apparently, Charlie could sense there was something wrong, so he said, “I know. I miss Lacey, too,” as he petted Liz’s arm.

“That’s actually not what’s bothering me,” she mumbled distantly. Truthfully, she’d known Lacey would leave them for quite some time before the event occurred, and so the official ‘dumping’ had filled Liz with relief more than anything else. She hadn’t even thought about the girl the entire month, although she knew Charlie was obviously still broken up about it.

Honestly, Liz had been surprised that Lacey had stayed with them for two whole years. Lacey had been sexually oriented as straight more than Liz would have preferred. Anytime Liz had braved anything sexual with Lacey, the girl would tense up too much, which had made Liz feel a bit self-conscious.

Elizabeth had always prided herself on being the epitome of a bisexual. She had no more preference for one sex over the other. In fact, she would have missed having a girlfriend if she only had a boyfriend, and vice-versa. That was why both Charlie and his brother, Josh, had never truly seemed like enough… she needed a girl. A submissive girl, in fact, that she could control and dominate, which was why she had gotten so easily swept up in age-play way back in college when she’d discovered the idea of being a ‘mommy’ to someone. After sharing the idea with Charlie, who seemed to be a born ‘Daddy’, history was put in motion.

“All right,” Charlie said with an amused grunt, “spill.” He sat a little straighter. He seemed very excited to hear about anything not-Lacey. Boy, her leaving Charlie for a vanilla guy must have really kicked Charlie in the gut!

“Sophia didn’t show up at work yesterday,” Elizabeth divulged with a sigh, “and it’s not like her. In the past, she’s come in no matter what; in sickness and in bad weather.”

“Sophia…” Charlie drawled, eyeing the ceiling thoughtfully. “Sophia… Wait—that’s the sixteen-year-old mail-girl, right?”

Liz straightened and arched her eyebrow at him. “The kid’s not a vampire. She’s aged, you know. She just turned eighteen last week, and then she didn’t come to work. She didn’t even call in sick; she didn’t call in at all. She’s not the type of girl to just fall off the face of the earth.”

“Well, kids her age aren’t exactly reliable,” Charlie replied. “She’s probably out having fun.”

Fun? I guarantee you she wouldn’t know fun if it bit her on the ass. She can’t afford fun. That girl is too poor to buy a bra! She’s living alone, she’s estranged from her parents, she’s practically invisible to everyone else at work; I know she doesn’t have any friends there. She’s not even allowed to die since she can’t afford her own funeral!” Liz huffed angrily. She wasn’t angry at Charlie, just at the world they lived in. A world that could put a girl like that at its mercy at such a young age…

Happy for an ear to rant to, Liz told him about Sophie’s abuse, and the fact that she wouldn’t take any of Liz’s money (except that one case with the birthday gift card, which had gone awry). Sophie had apparently dropped out of school midway through her sophomore year to work; so she had no real future… No friends, no connections, nothing.

“Hm,” Charlie grunted with a deep frown. “And I didn’t think I could have been any more depressed than I was five minutes ago.” He winced. “And the fuckwad just took her gift card? What kind of depraved asshole—?”

“I know,” Liz agreed, putting up her hands.

“Why don’t you call her?” Charlie asked next.

“I don’t even think she owns a phone,” Liz lamented. “Even if she did, though, you can bet your shirt she wouldn’t give me her number. She’s as stubborn as a goat! There’s no way in hell to get a hold of her… If something happened, nobody would probably even notice but me, and there’d be nothing I could do about it.”

Charlie rubbed his callused hands over her shoulders, shushing her soothingly. She hadn’t realized it until then, but Elizabeth was shaking. She was startled at her own reaction; she never got this upset.

“It’s okay, honey. She’ll turn up,” he assured her.

“I just hate not being able to do anything,” Liz admitted. She knew that Charlie would understand at least that much of her feelings. He’d known that Liz was a control-freak since they were small children playing in the sandbox, where she kept demanding that he make his sandcastles ‘the proper way.’

Charlie continued to massage her shoulders, turning her back toward him to give him better access at her stiff muscles. She felt Charlie begin to kiss her neck, and then his voice purred in her ear, “You know what you need to do? Relax. When you can’t do anything, then you need to find a way to take your mind off of it.” He obviously wanted to take his mind off his own matters, because he unbuttoned the top of her blouse and cupped one of her breasts through her lacy bra. Quickly, his fingers moved around the barrier and found her taut, attention-starved nipples.

Damn Charlie—he knew her breasts were her weakness! All it took was the littlest tweak of her nipples and she would turn into putty in his hands. There had been a reason why she hadn’t found the reason to find another man other than Charlie or Josh… rather, Elizabeth had a complete lack of reasons to go searching for another man. Why would she need a new man when Charlie and Josh knew her inside and out? Both of them knew every trick in the book that could get her cumming and screaming to the rafters every time without fail.

He laid her backwards until she was sprawled out on the sofa. He took her red nipples into his mouth and began to flick his tongue over them as he released himself from the confines of his pants. It was all about her tonight, apparently, because he batted her hands away from his stiff cock and continued rubbing and sucking and making her melt into the furniture.

Her mind began to change; her body was slowly charging into “the mood.” Hoping that tonight he’d actually let her dominate him, she pushed back, growling eagerly and wanting to mount him. “I’m gonna ride you like a lazy horse.”

Her tactic didn’t work; apparently he was in no mood to let her take the reins, which was normal for Charlie. “What do you think this is, your birthday?” Charlie growled back. They both pushed and clasped each other until they fell onto the carpet. He wrestled her until he had her pinned face-down on the floor. “Now, raise up your ass to me like a good little slut who needs my cum inside of her.”

She’d lost her virginity after a wrestling match with him when they were teenagers. Ever since, that’s how sex for them was: one trying to dominate the other. Their battling hadn’t lasted long—Charlie joined the football team, and after enough weight-training to make even Arnold Schwarzenegger cringe, Charlie could always win and pin her into the position he wanted with stellar speed and efficiency.

She didn’t raise up her ass for him. “You’re such a bastard,” she grumbled into the carpet under her chin.

He gave her a firm swat on her backside. “Up,” he repeated, “or it’s going right into that sexy bottom.”

For a moment, Elizabeth considered that threat as possibly something she wanted. The short-lived pain from the anal penetration would definitely keep her mind in the present, and away from Sophie. Yet, Liz never did very well when being dominated to that extent; it would give Charlie too much satisfaction. With her shoulders still pinned to the rug, she dragged herself up to her knees so that her bottom was up and presented for his taking.

She felt the wide mushroom-head of his cock rub up and down her damp entrance. “Mmm, yeah. Nice and ready. You like this,” he rumbled heatedly. Charlie was the nicest person on the planet, but he did have a rougher side, and he loved dirty talk.

“Fuck me already,” she gritted.

“I want you begging a little better than that. It’s sounding to my ears like you’re giving me orders. That’s not how we roll, is it? Now, tell me how much you want my cock in your pussy.” He tightened his grip on her wrists and pushed her body more into the rug with his elbow.

“Fuck my pussy, Charlie. Hard… Please,” she added at the end, knowing he would tease her for a century until she finally said ‘please.’

With a firm push, he slid his entire length roughly into her, making her both moan and gasp at the same time. He moved his hands to her hips and slammed her bottom against his groin again and again. He was swearing at her; calling her a whore, a slut, a “cum dumpster,” and she was loving it. She was always surprised that she did, but she did. Especially when she was feeling a little out of control within her life, she liked to be degraded a bit in bed. It was sexy and taboo for her; it was different from the nearly comical levels of praise she received everywhere else.

He put his hands back up to her nipples and pulled at them. She moaned loudly, chirping with pain and delight at the same time. “Don’t you dare cum,” he said. She never knew what a man felt during sex, but he must have felt something like she did; he must have felt her building close to her release. “I want to fuck this pussy until you cry. Don’t cum.”

Defiantly, she came anyway.

“Fuck!” he growled as her muscles milked him over and over until he began to expand and contract. He wasn’t humping her now; he had stopped in a last-ditch effort. There was no stopping once he started, though. Defeated, he began to pull her hips back again, cumming deep into her, filling her with his liquid warmth.

He nipped at her shoulder, falling slightly on top of her, yet keeping his weight off of her body with his arms on each on each side. “You’re such a brat, you know that?” he chuckled behind her. “I was ready for a marathon!”

“Hey, it wasn’t me tugging on the nips,” she replied casually, less than sorry.

 He rolled over to her side and put an arm under her, and she let her body meld against his naked body and chest.

She combed her fingers through his light layer of chest hair. “Should we move it to bed?”

“No. It’s only midnight on a Thursday,” he protested. “We’re thirty-two, not eighty.”

She giggled. “Should we move it to the sofa, then?”

He raised his head off the ground, looked over at the sofa, appraised it, and then groaned. “Nah,” he said, dropping his head back against the fuzzy faux-fur rug. “Too far.”

“It’s two feet away,” she reminded.

“Exactly. Two feet too far.” He took a deep breath. “Liz? Marry me.” He wasn’t asking—he was just stating it like it’d be a fun thing to do together, like going to get ice cream.

“We are married, honey,” Liz reminded. “Just informally.”

“Well, let’s make it formal,” he retorted, surely knowing she’d say no, and she did. She’d been saying ‘no’ since he first suggested they get married when they were eighteen. Then at nineteen. Then after he won his first national title when he was twenty, then again after he graduated college, again when she graduated law school, and then pretty much whenever he felt like it after that. “I’d keep it open,” he assured with a snort of frustration. “You could date other people. I just wouldn’t. I’m never going to do the daddy thing again—with anyone.”

“That’s what you always say,” she said, and it was. Lacey wasn’t the first girlfriend he played a ‘daddy’ to, and after every breakup he always announced that he was done with the age-play lifestyle. “The answer is still no, though. Besides, you know I get off on the ‘mommy’ thing… Unless you’d like a mommy?” she hinted with a mischievous spark in her eye.

“No,” he told her sternly. “Honey, I don’t even like you on top.” Charlie was a dominant man in every sense of the word; this she’d always known about him.

“Your loss,” she assured with a shrug. “Your brother never complained.”

“Yeah, well, Josh likes it any way he can get it,” he reminded her with a laugh. “But yes, I know that you’re the best at everything you do, including sex. It’s what you’re known for.” He sighed and let the room fill with silence for nearly a minute before he resumed talking. “I’m serious, though. No more ‘little girls.’ I’m through.”

She kissed his chest, knowing that he felt his heart had been stomped on by Lacey, who was twenty-seven, but had played the part of a seven-year-old who loved sitting on her daddy’s lap or being bent tail-up over it for being a naughty little girl. Charlie had taken care of her, cuddled her, and even dressed her up like she was a doll. He had a serious fetish for age-play, and one of the upstairs bedrooms was packed with toys and little-girl clothes and furniture in extra-large sizes. Charlie also liked that lifestyle to be twenty-four/seven. He didn’t like the girl ever not calling him ‘Daddy’; once he had a role with someone, he kept it.

“Well, I don’t know if I’m through,” she said stubbornly. “We’re not all going vanilla just because of you.”

He rolled his eyes toward her with annoyance. “Fine, you can bring home whoever you want. But I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Fine,” she said, and got off the floor to walk to the bathroom.

He propped himself up on his elbow and watched her walk. “You know how sexy you look with my cum dripping down your thighs?” he asked.

She gave a snort and threw him a chiding look over her shoulder. “You’re a romantic, Charlie,” she said sardonically.

Charlie gave a laugh and eventually got up as well. The two watched some TV and drank wine together. Eventually, they watched through the window as Charlie’s brother carried a woman on his shoulder, caveman-style, into his guest house, pausing to give them a thumbs up.

After that, Charlie carried Liz into his bedroom, just to prove to her that he could still easily do it (despite having five shoulder surgeries). They fell asleep, only awakening when Liz’s cellphone, which she had placed on Charlie’s nightstand, started to vibrate.

Charlie glared at the clock. “What kind of asshole calls at four o’clock on a holiday?” he demanded.

“Might be a client,” she sighed, and picked up the call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Um… Hi, Miss Button.” Sophie’s voice was childlike enough that Liz knew it immediately.

Liz sat up in bed, already alarmed.

“I’m really, really sorry I’m waking you up this morning, but I didn’t know what time you were getting up, and I pegged you for one of those really early risers so I was sort of hoping I’d catch you sort of not-asleep…” she immediately rambled, sounding more squeaky and nervous with every word.

“Sophia, what’s wrong?”

Sophie’s groan sounded pain-filled. “Everything,” she moaned.

Liz took a deep breath. “What’s everything?”

Chapter Two

“Thanks so much for paying my bail, Miss Button,” Sophie said timidly as she followed Elizabeth out toward the parking lot. “I promise that I’ll pay you back just as soon as I can.”

Sophie couldn’t stop apologizing. Every time she tried, the air around her would feel like it was strangling her. Elizabeth kept silent. The woman was obviously very upset, and Sophie couldn’t blame her. It was five-thirty in the morning on a holiday weekend, after all. Sophie had been too ashamed and miserable to call Elizabeth for two days, until she began to fear her cell-mates: two tougher-than-nails prostitutes who promised to teach her ‘a thing or two.’ Desperate not to learn even the first thing they had in mind, let alone the second, Sophie had finally begged for her phone call.

Sophie stopped, intending to let Elizabeth walk to her car alone; after all, Elizabeth had barely looked at her all morning. Unexpectedly, however, Elizabeth stopped walking when she did. “What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked, her voice extremely firm and curt.

“Nothing, I was just gonna walk home,” she said.

“Where’s home? You’re still listing your parents’ apartment as your address. I saw your form,” she demanded, her voice filled with accusation.

“It’s just up the street,” Sophie said, pointing. Way, way up the street… Probably about eight miles. It was worth the walk; Elizabeth was looking pretty tense.

“Get in the car,” Elizabeth ordered, unlocking the passenger side. “I’m driving you and walking you in.”

Sophie’s eyes rounded. That was not going to do at all! She felt panic rise into her throat. “No, no!” Sophie said, waving her hands back and forth. “That’s okay, I’ll just take a bus. You’ve done too much already, really, I—”

“Sophia Lynn, I told you to get your little fanny into this car right now!” Elizabeth snapped so loudly that a couple of cops coming out of their squad cars paused, turned, and looked over to see what the fuss was about.

Sophie jumped, took a shaky breath, and then scurried into the front passenger seat of Elizabeth’s bright-red Lexus. She watched with uneasy, seat-gripping tension as Elizabeth got into her side and turned on the car. “Buckle up and tell me where you live,” Elizabeth gritted.

With one last stab at dignity, Sophie shuddered, “U-Uh-Um… I… Um… I really—”

“Sophia—where have you been sleeping?”

Sophie slid down in her seat, murmuring, “One-eleven northeast Hutchens Avenue,” as she slowly reached for her safety belt and snapped it on.

Liz turned to her and blinked. Her lips were pressed firmly together as she was visibly gathering her patience. “That’s the address of the firm.”

Sophie swallowed loudly. “I know. I’m sorry… It’s only temporary until I save up a little bit…”

It wasn’t until that moment that Elizabeth’s demeanor changed, as she realized that Sophie wasn’t trying to pull one over on her. “You’ve been sleeping at the office? Do you even have an office to do that?”

“I sleep in the attic, actually. But—I—I’m sorry, I know—”

“Do you have things there?”

“Yeah, like some clothes and stuff…” Sophie chewed her bottom lip as she watched Elizabeth drive them out of the police station’s lot. “I’m sorry, Miss Button,” she gushed after trying to hold in her apologies again. “I don’t want to get you involved. I only called you because I couldn’t think of anyone else, and I had your business card in my pocket…”

“Sophie, stop it. Just stop,” Elizabeth demanded, swiping her hand through the air. Sophie silenced immediately, and Elizabeth continued, “If you say that you’re sorry to me one more time, I’m going to stop this car and spank the daylights out of your stubborn little butt. You’re apologizing for the wrong thing.”

Sophie was suddenly fighting back tears of humiliation as they drove toward the office. Did Elizabeth just threaten to spank her? Sophie sat as still as she possibly could, her throat feeling tight and far too nervous to continue apologizing. Even breathing seemed difficult.

When Elizabeth pulled up in front of the office and got out of the car, Sophie was beginning to fear that she really was in a violent mood, especially when Elizabeth walked over to Sophie’s side and pulled her out of the car by her upper arm. “Show me where you’ve been sleeping,” Liz demanded. “Right now. I need to see.”

Elizabeth marched Sophie into the building, up the elevator, and had Sophie lead her over to a door that Elizabeth seemed surprised by, as if she’d never noticed it there before. Sophie felt it imperative that no conversation get struck up whatsoever; the loud tap-tap-tap of Elizabeth’s blood-red stilettos was really all that Sophie could handle right now.

Sophie was embarrassed when they finally made it to the attic and she exposed her small living space, which was in the middle of a bunch of spare, dusty boxes of paper and pens. She hadn’t ever meant anyone, especially not Elizabeth Button, to see her grungy sleeping bag she had pulled out over old newspapers she had been using as a mattress, the clothes scattered everywhere, or the dirty old teddy bear she had brought from home that was sitting on top of Sophie’s yellowing pillow.

For a second, Sophie was distracted by the quiet buzz of her little cheap TV. The electronic was ancient; the picture was all in fuzzy black and white, and the small-but-bulky box had two three-foot-long antennas sticking out of it. Jerry Springer was currently trying to break up a fight on its screen. Sophie had left the television on, since she had found already that she couldn’t sleep, or even function, in complete silence and darkness. She walked over and clicked the little television off, then turned around to look sheepishly at Elizabeth.

Sophie could take a flying guess as to what Elizabeth was thinking to herself right now: that Sophie couldn’t survive on her own. Unfortunately, if that’s what Elizabeth was thinking, then she was right.

Sophie’s train of thought suddenly fell off its rails with the sound of a sniffle. For a moment, Sophie thought it might have been her own sniffling; she was, after all, pretty miserable at the moment. But when she looked over at Elizabeth, she noticed tear streaks on her cheeks.

“Sophie… why didn’t you tell me?” Elizabeth choked out.

Sophie frowned. She hadn’t expected her life to be so bad that it would bring anyone to tears. Not even Sophie had cried about it yet! “Miss Button, it’s really not that bad… I mean, it’s warmer than in the actual offices up here. And it’s only temporary. It’s okay, honest.”

“Sophia, I don’t know what you think okay is, but this is not it. This is far from okay!” Suddenly she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger as if she felt a strong headache coming on. With a much more collected voice, she finally directed, “Sophia, I want you to get all your things together and meet me in my office.”

Sophie blanched. She had nowhere else to go if not here. It didn’t look like much, but it was better than under a bridge out in the freezing cold! “But—”

Elizabeth suddenly grabbed her arm again, spun her around, and started to swat her—hard. “I-said-move-it!” When Sophie was released after five good spanks, her bottom actually stung under her jeans. She smooshed the palms of her hands against her back pockets protectively when Elizabeth released her. Sophie’s mouth hung open with protest and surprise, but she couldn’t keep eye contact with Elizabeth, whose eyes were glinting with anger before she turned heel and marched out the door. “Ten minutes, Sophia!” she called out before she’d slammed the door behind her.

Sophie shook slightly, unable to keep the shudder of emotion inside, but then she took a deep breath and grabbed a big, black trash bag and began to stuff her things inside of it. Sophie was beginning to wonder how she moved everyone she’d ever met to violence.

Nobody else was in the office building, so when she heard the printing machine work when she got downstairs, she knew it was Elizabeth. She tried to sneak past the copy room, hopeful that she could make it outside, catch a bus, and go far away.

Nothing ever worked out to plan, however. “Don’t move another inch, Sophia!” Elizabeth snapped from inside the room when Sophie tried to quietly creep by.

Sophie rolled her eyes; this woman had eyes in the back of her head! Sophie took a deep breath, hoping that the oxygen would give her the calmness she needed to stay put and not sprint toward the nearest exit.

When Elizabeth walked out of the printing room, shuffling a stack of papers in her hand, she eyed Sophie’s full, black trash bag with disgust. “Is that it?”

Sophie nodded.

“Where’s your coat?” she demanded.

Sophie looked at the floor. “Long story…”

Liz passed her the stack of papers, and Sophie dropped her bag to keep the pages from flying everywhere. “Trade you,” Elizabeth said, and took possession of Sophie’s trash bag before Sophie could voice a protest. Elizabeth led the way out of the building, hauling the bag as if it didn’t weigh anything. Gosh, this woman was so in shape! Sophie figured that if Elizabeth hadn’t spent the morning terrorizing her, she’d be swooning right about now.

Instead, she was merely worried about what Elizabeth’s plans were with her things. “Um…” Sophie scurried behind her. “Miss Button? Where are you going with my stuff?”

“The question is: where are you going?” she corrected as Sophie followed her out to her car.

Sophie winced; that didn’t sound promising. “Where… ?”

She watched Elizabeth throw her stuff unceremoniously into the trunk of the Lexus and slam it shut again. “Get in the car,” Elizabeth demanded.

It was maybe ten degrees outside but Sophie realized she was sweating when she rushed into the front seat of the car again. “Where are we going?” she finally asked once they pulled out of the parking lot, pulling her seatbelt slowly across her chest.

“You are going to my house, where you’ll be staying until I see fit,” Elizabeth informed her.

While Sophie was digesting this, Elizabeth continued, “Sophie, I told you two years ago that when you needed help, you needed to tell me. I’ve repeated the offer so many times that us having this conversation is now officially ridiculous!”

Sophie found herself feeling guilty, which was a little unfair. After all, Elizabeth’s offer of help was always just an empty sentiment. Elizabeth’s life wasn’t Sophie’s to screw up, after all. “I don’t need help! I’m fine!”

Elizabeth slammed her palm down on the steering wheel. “You tried to sell yourself into prostitution last night!”

She squinted and crossed her arms, defensive. “What? Is being poor a crime, now?”

Elizabeth turned her head and gave her a look that made Sophie wonder if she was sane to really be using an attitude. She cooled it down and said, “I needed the money, and it’s not like I have anything else to sell. People say that you can get amazing money for having a guy pay to pop your cherry.”

“You can also get a good case of AIDS,” she snapped. “And being poor isn’t a crime. I can tell you what is, though: prostitution and loitering on private property.” She shook her head. “What I can’t even understand is that you were in that prison cell for two days before you called me. Why?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your Thanksgiving! It’s called being considerate.”

“Well, you failed! I’ve been thinking about you for the last two years, and worrying myself sick for the last few days!” Sophie put her hands over her ears to protect them from Elizabeth’s yells, which had reached top-volume at that point. When Sophie took her hands off her ears, Liz spoke much more softly. “You’re living with me, and that’s final. I’m so disappointed in you, I can barely swallow.”

Sophie knew the feeling, because she was disappointed in herself. She wasn’t even sure where exactly she let her life go wrong, but it had happened. What she wasn’t used to having was someone else being disappointed in her; and what she couldn’t understand was that person was Elizabeth Button, who had to have had something better to do that morning than drive Sophie around and scold her.

“I don’t know why you care,” Sophie murmured, wishing she’d just stayed in the cell with the surly prostitutes.

“Because, Sophie, I’ve met you. I looked into your eyes and I just see so much exhaustion. I hate looking at someone who’s old before their time and getting treated like garbage by everyone who’s supposed to love them. I can’t bear it, and I don’t have to, because I have the means and the inclination to change it.”

All conversation in the car died after that, replaced with the sound of Sophie shifting around in her seat, fresh snow hitting the windshield, and the windshield wipers swishing back and forth.

Sophie stared out the window until the scenery around them changed. They’d left the city and now all the houses were beginning to look nice— really, really nice, all the way to pretentious. Woods appeared, and then they passed into a gated community with homes that were breathtaking. Even the sidewalk looked immaculate.

Sophie’s eyes darted back and forth; she felt very uncomfortable in these sorts of surroundings. It was like one of those places on television where people claim they didn’t have to lock their doors at night. They pulled into a driveway in front of a huge house made with stone and old-fashioned pewter fixtures. She spotted a path and a smaller driveway that went around the side of the house to where there was another house in the back yard, only much a smaller one.

No wonder Elizabeth cried when she saw where Sophie was sleeping! Talk about how the other half lived…

“Come on,” Elizabeth sighed, sounding weary. “Get out of the car. Leave your stuff in the trunk.”

Sophie slowly exited, then approached the house like it was a mirage in the desert, set to disappear completely if she got too close to it. Elizabeth wrapped her hand around her upper arm again and marched her down the walkway and right through the unlocked front door.

The smell of eggs and bacon was in the air in the main foyer. There was a sound of a man’s deep voice singing some sort of golden oldie, “I heard it through the grapevine… Not much longer would she be mine… Baby, baby…” When Elizabeth closed the door behind them, the voice immediately stopped singing and asked, “Hello?”

“I’m home, Charlie,” Elizabeth called toward the back of the house. “I brought Sophie with me.”

“So,” said a second voice, also male, “is that a hint for me to put on pants?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips together. “Yes.”

Lame.

Elizabeth increased the pressure at where she held onto Sophie’s arm and directed her up the slightly winding staircase toward the second floor landing. Sophie’s eyes skirted over one of the doors that read ‘Lacey’ in childlike letters and she instantly assumed that Elizabeth had a young daughter. They walked past that door and Elizabeth opened the next door down the line.

Sophie gasped; gasping probably made her look like a yokel, but she simply hadn’t predicted that the opening door would reveal what could only be described as a five-star hotel room. Sophie hadn’t actually ever been in a hotel before, but when she saw them on television, they tended to look something like this: warm colors, alluring textures, a huge bed with perfectly tucked-in sheets and fluffy cloud-like pillows. The furniture was maple, warm, lavish, and it looked extremely expensive; there was even a flat-screen television across from the bed. She looked around and saw that it connected to its own bathroom.

For the first time that morning, she was suddenly happy that she had called Elizabeth to spring her out of prison. It might have not been the right move—the move she would have chosen again—but it was surely the only move that would have culminated in this. Is this how Annie felt when she was brought to Daddy Warbucks’ mansion? God, it was a good feeling… Sophie even had an urge to sing and dance a little. She wished she could bottle up this feeling and use it as a daily shampoo.

“You’ll be staying here,” Elizabeth told her, gesturing about the room like it wasn’t the most impressive place on earth, but that it would do. “I have two people downstairs I want you to meet, but it can wait until you have a shower. You’re probably feeling pretty grungy after sitting in a jail cell for that long.” She walked past her and turned on the light in the bathroom.

The light showed a place so clean that Sophie could eat off the floor. Even the toilet was so amazingly white and immaculate it deserved notice. The floor and walls were made of river stone, the sink was sunken into an antique cabinet, which Elizabeth opened, revealing shampoo, Q-tips, toothbrushes, and all sorts of brand-new, colorful, and very well-sorted hygiene products. When she opened the second door to the cabinet, she exposed perfectly folded towels and washcloths. “You should find everything you need in here,” Elizabeth said, although she was obviously double-checking, “but if you need anything, open the door and shout down to me and I’ll find you anything you need. When you come out, I’ll have laid out some clothes on the bed for you. Put them on, then come and meet me downstairs.” She stood and turned to leave Sophie alone in this gigantic, clean place.

“What about my clothes in the car?” Sophie found herself asking, wringing her hands in front of her nervously.

“Honey,” Elizabeth said wearily. “I saw where those had been lying this morning. They’re going to be washed before a human being touches them again.” She gave a weak, sympathetic smile and then left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Sophie sighed and walked past the mirror and glanced at herself. She looked like a greasy, tortured creature that had managed to claw its way out of hell. Her breath probably was horrible, too. Sophie tested it by breathing on her hand, and then nodded in confirmation. Yep; she was surely the grossest thing that this house had ever had to shelter. “All right,” she sighed, looking at the shower and speaking to it. “I hope you’re up for a challenge.”

Elizabeth stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen before throwing her purse on the counter and yanking her coat off angrily. After that, she realized that her men were both looking at her with their identical blue eyes. Their faces, be they very different, both had the same uncomfortable expression. It was the look they wore when they watched the Discovery Channel when a snake would eat something particularly cute.

They had apparently been eating breakfast, but now they just held forks with their food shoveled onto them.

Elizabeth heaved a tired groan and put her hand over her eyes. “You have no idea what my morning’s been like,” she told them, as if that would explain why she looked so not-in-control.

Charlie put down his fork, walked over to her, and put his large hands around her waist and hugged her, kissing the side of her head. “Why don’t you sit down and we’ll have a powwow?” he suggested after rubbing her arm soothingly a few times.

She took a deep breath, then nodded and walked over to the breakfast nook. The boys abandoned their stools at the kitchen island, brought their plates over, and sat around her.

Josh’s role at these little meetings was to break the tension and get everything on the table; or so it seemed, because he always ended up doing it. “So,” he said now after letting some silence fly by, “Sophie’s here. That’s the sixteen-year-old…?”

“Eighteen,” Elizabeth corrected crossly. “I would never let anyone under eighteen into the house, Josh.” If Sophie was under eighteen, she probably would have driven her to a half-way house for kids. Unfortunately, now she didn’t have any government systems to help support her. Sophie was sadly short on options.

“Oh!” Josh looked far, far too pleased by this. His lips curled up into what Elizabeth could only describe as an evil grin. “Nice.” Mischief sparkled in his eyes and Elizabeth had to give him a firm enough expression to extinguish it. She would not give him free leave to chase Sophie around like she was a piece of meat.

The look landed well, and he scrubbed that stupid grin off his face and speared his egg with his fork. “So there’s an eighteen-year-old in our house. That’s cool. Happens all the time, so I’m totally used to it…” he mumbled sarcastically.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Charlie asked; he seemed confident enough that Liz would have one.

Liz found herself shrugging. She hadn’t shrugged in so long that she did it very awkwardly. “I don’t know.”

Charlie furrowed his dark eyebrows. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t have any idea in hell. My first thought is to have her live here—maybe we could talk her into being our new little. But I don’t even know what her sexual inclination is. And I’d bet everything I own on the fact that Sophie’s never even heard of age-play before. I don’t want to put her in that position! The poor thing would probably think she jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire!” Liz shook her head and put her hand over her forehead. “Sophie was picked up for prostitution a couple days ago. She’d just been sitting there, in a cell, for two days, afraid to call me. She has no one else, she’s completely homeless—”

She started choking up again; it had been quite disturbing to see how bad Sophie’s life had gotten and what sort of conditions she’d claimed to be ‘okay’ with. It was dusty, dirty, and there were surely plenty of cockroaches and rats up there… It made her stomach churn.

A jail cell normally freaked out a kid from the suburbs within ten minutes, but Liz was now less than surprised that Sophie had been perfectly comfortable in there for two days. Liz suspected it was only because of Sophie’s new cellmates that she called at all; two women in their late twenties with far too much makeup and who smelled like something between meth and hairspray had been surrounding Sophie like she was a meal by the time Liz had walked in to see her bailed out.

Josh suddenly got serious and reached over to squeeze Liz’s fingers.

“—she’d been living up in the attic of the office, probably for weeks, and nobody ever knew. I offered her money, but she wouldn’t take it! Jesus!” she continued to blather, but then she tried to collect herself. She had to be stronger than this. “The thing is,” Elizabeth went on in a much more even tone, wiping her tears delicately from her mascara, “she’s so stubborn that if I took her to a hotel, she wouldn’t stay there. She won’t accept help—she’s such a brat about it!”

“You can’t force anyone to accept charity, Liz,” Charlie told her with a sigh riding his words.

She narrowed her eyebrows. “Watch me.” When she met Charlie’s firm, unbending gaze, she added, “She’s going to stay here as long as it takes.” Charlie didn’t change his expression at all; he still looked unhappy. “So what’s so different between me bringing home Sophie and you when you brought home Lacey?” she demanded.

Charlie’s mouth opened a little bit, looking annoyed at the question. “Liz—are you seriously comparing the two situations? Because I’d love to help you chart that out,” he snapped. “For starters—Lacey was from the suburbs. She wasn’t a desperate waif living on the streets. She was experienced, she had been in a D-and-S relationship before, and she knew about alternative lifestyles. She was twenty-six—eight years older than Sophie is. Most importantly, I was interested in having a long-term relationship with her. A sexual one. And she knew it.”

Liz straightened her shoulders. “I’m interested in Sophie for a long-term relationship, Charlie—I just couldn’t do anything about it until now because she was underage, but she isn’t anymore,” Elizabeth assured, feeling slightly defensive. She added slowly and evenly, “I want her to live here, though, whether she wants to date me or not. I’ve decided.”

“Well,” Charlie grunted angrily, “thanks for asking for our opinion on who lives in our house or not!”

“You were just saying last night that you didn’t want to play ‘daddy’ anymore, and that I could still date whoever I wanted,” she reminded. “Did something change in the last six hours?” She turned to Josh, who was watching the exchange with bright, amused eyes. “What do you think?”

Josh exchanged a look with Charlie and then put up his hand over his brow to blind himself from Charlie’s glare. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “whoever and whatever is important to you, Liz, is important to us. I think everything will work out. Mainly because it’s you, and everything works out with you because you’re a beautiful, strong woman with a good head on her shoulders.”

This was blatant sucking up, she knew, but Elizabeth suddenly felt the urge to jump Josh’s bones.

Josh continued, “Who knows? It might all work out perfectly. You know what Dad used to say—you’d never know that fate put something in your lap if you don’t look down every now and then.”

Elizabeth grinned slightly and turned back to Charlie, who continued to look unhappy. “It’s like my opinion doesn’t even matter,” he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest like he always did when he was out-voted.

Elizabeth sighed and leaned over to kiss Charlie on the cheek. He didn’t react to it, acting like a stubborn little boy. Soothingly, she said, “I promise that if you really feel strongly against her, or you both don’t get along, I’ll figure something else out.”

Charlie grunted. “Fine.” He began to eat again. Apparently her promise had made him feel a little bit better. Suddenly he brought his head back up. “She’s a prostitute?”

Elizabeth sighed and waved her hand through the air. “She was trying to sell her virginity to anyone who had a few hundred bucks in his pocket and got an undercover cop instead, thank God.”

“Wait, wait,” Josh said. He grabbed the edge of the table and leaned forward. “You mean she’s a virgin prostitute? Those exist? Wait—” He leaned back and turned his head so that he was leering at her with one eye, as if she were making Sophie up. “Are you saying that there are still virgin eighteen-year-olds?”

“Josh,” she scolded.

“What? It’s not as if I’m calling shotgun to some young, innocent waif’s cherry or anything,” he said innocently. “But if I were… Could I call shotgun?”

“Josh,” Charlie scolded this time. “You can’t call shot-gun like she’s the front-seat on a roadtrip.”

Josh shrugged. “I’m just saying that I have a nice, big, hard cock if she’s interested. I’d take it slow—unless she likes it hard and fast, because then…”

“Josh!” Charlie and Liz snapped at the same time.

Subdued now, Josh went back to his food, grumbling, “I’m always getting Charlie’s sloppy seconds… sucks…”

Chapter Three

Sophie lay on the bed after her shower and after dressing in the sundress, sweater, thigh-high stockings, and white panties that were laid out for her. She didn’t think the clothes suited her very well; she could count on one hand all the times she had worn a skirt before, but at least these items smelt nice—rich people must have purchased better detergent, because she smelt like a lilac now. Where the clothing had come from, she wasn’t sure. They were too small for Elizabeth’s body, even though they were still too big for Sophie. Certainly, the dress’s designers were into women with breasts like Dolly Parton.

The shower had felt amazing; she had been freezing her ass off for so many days now that she’d almost forgotten what a long, hot shower could do. She’d never used expensive soaps, shampoos, conditioners, cleansers, deodorants, or toothpaste, but that’s what had been given to her. She hadn’t even owned a loofa before, but she could say for sure that she was probably cleaner now than she’d ever been in her life; every pore had been purified, and it left her smelling like strawberries until she put her flower-scented clothing on.

Brushing her teeth had been quite strenuous; that place on her mouth where her stepfather got a particularly hard punch in was even sensitive toward the soft bristles of her new pink toothbrush.

She knew she’d been told to go downstairs, but she couldn’t make herself do it. She was feeling particularly low, despite her cleanliness. She felt like she was receiving charity that she simply didn’t deserve. The only reason she was lying down on an amazing mattress in a first-rate accommodations was because she’d accidentally gone right up to an undercover cop the other night and offered to let him bust her cherry for five hundred bucks. It hadn’t been the classiest thing she’d ever done, particularly because it took a lot of cheap booze to get her courage up to even stand on that street corner in the first place.

Guilt swarmed her mind, giving her a headache. She pulled a pillow over her head and tried to block out everything around her.

Eventually, she heard the doorknob to her room turn quietly and the tap-tap of Elizabeth’s stilettos upon the polished hardwood floor. “Sophia?” she asked softly, as if testing to see she was awake.

Sophie crunched a little more into a ball in response, rather than staying still like a good liar who wanted Elizabeth to think she was actually sleeping.

Elizabeth came closer and Sophie felt the mattress shift as Elizabeth sat down on the far end of the bed and then scooted over until she was next to Sophie’s head. Liz lifted the pillow, and Sophie squinted her eyes in response, balling up a little more.

“Such a pretty girl,” Elizabeth cooed, lacing her fingers through Sophie’s damp, blonde tresses. She stroked her fingers against Sophie’s forehead and ears, and Sophie hated how good that felt. She hadn’t gotten a friendly touch from anyone in so many years, that now it made her feel a little sorry for herself.

“Sophia,” Elizabeth began softly. “I’m sorry I scolded you so much today… I just get a little maternal sometimes. Especially,” she added, “with you. You’re so young, and so small, and so cute that it hurts when I see you don’t have anyone else appreciating that about you. You should have someone protecting you; instead it’s just you braving this really hard world. It’s got to feel like someone tied weights to your feet and cast you into the ocean to drown, and you’re floundering just to keep your lips above the waterline.”

Sophie swallowed; Elizabeth put it perfectly. Sometimes, Sophie just felt like she was drowning. But that didn’t mean she wanted to bother anyone into rescuing her. “Miss Button,” she sighed. “I’m not that vulnerable. I’m really not. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“I’m not saying you can’t manage, sweetie. I’m sure you could struggle and scratch out a living for yourself. You can’t thrive, though. I promise that if you just let me help you, let me take care of you, then you can actually blossom and accomplish any dream you’ve ever had. You have so much potential. But you can’t grow if everyone’s kicking dirt on you.”

Let me take care of you’ rang in Sophie’s ears. It almost pushed her to tears. She so, so badly wanted that, to let Elizabeth do that for her… but the fact was that she wasn’t anything to Elizabeth. She would just be the weight tied to Elizabeth’s neck. She didn’t want to be that for anyone.

Elizabeth was a goddess to her; her idol. The last thing she wanted was for Elizabeth to eventually tell her what everyone else had: that she was sorry that she’d ever met Sophie, that Sophie was stupid, good-for-nothing, lazy, worthless… Sophie couldn’t listen to that—not from her. If Elizabeth said it, then it’d make it true beyond any doubts.

She finally murmured, “I’m not worth the trouble, Miss Button. I’m not even worth noticing. I’m nobody. I’m not stupid; I know what you think of me. I’m this… this thing that as soon as I’m gone, and out of your sight, you’ll feel better, really. That’s all I want—just to go and let you pay attention to other stuff, stuff that’s more important.”

Elizabeth shocked Sophie then by not cringing or sighing and continuing the façade that she cared because it was her duty to. Instead, Elizabeth grabbed Sophie and pulled her up and onto her lap in a single, graceful, and strong movement. Elizabeth’s thighs were hard, her body trim and tall like a basketball player. While sitting here, awkwardly, and especially as Elizabeth pulled Sophie’s head toward her perfect, soft bosoms to rest on, Sophie truly felt like a little girl next to this woman.

Elizabeth’s warm arms wrapped around her, which was so odd—Elizabeth never struck Sophie was a very warm person, really; certainly not a hugger, definitely not a cuddler. Yet here she was, being cuddled by the Devil in Red Heels and getting her hair petted like she was a child who’d woken up from a nightmare. “Stop saying you’re not important!” Elizabeth ordered, hugging her even harder. “You think you’re so knowledgeable, and you’re so hardened, you don’t even seem to get that I look forward to your bright eyes every day I go to the office! Jesus, Sophie—I fell in love with you when I first saw you. I’ve been at odds with whether to adopt you or kiss the hell out of you!”

Sophie blinked, and a tear escaped her eye by surprise. She wondered if she’d heard right—did Elizabeth Button want her? As a lover, not just a project? It didn’t seem possible. It was like a swan falling for a toad.

Sophie tilted her head up and looked at her; there was definitely affection in Elizabeth’s eyes. She couldn’t believe it was there at all, but just as she wondered if it was romantic or not, Elizabeth tilted her chin up higher and kissed down the damp trail her tear had left behind, then again, following it down her cheek. When she reached Sophie’s mouth, she pressed her soft, red lips onto hers.

At first, Sophie couldn’t even move, let alone return the kiss, but then she had a moment of desperation that washed over her and she squeezed Elizabeth as hard as she could and tried her best to return the kiss, lapping at the tongue that teased her own.

Lost somewhere between panic and excitement, Sophie realized she had no idea what she was doing. She had no idea how to kiss a woman, what the protocol was, where to put her hands. In fact, Sophie hadn’t even had much experience kissing men; she’d kissed a few boys when she was still in high school, but just a couple, and it had been too long ago and for too short of time to consider herself good at it.

She felt ham-handed and clumsy instantly, worrying if Elizabeth enjoyed being kissed back. When Elizabeth broke off the kiss, she stroked Sophie’s chin and decreed, “You are the cutest thing imaginable.”

Sophie blushed crimson and said earnestly, “I can do better than that, I swear!” She tilted her head up to try again, but Elizabeth just tapped Sophie’s nose with her index finger, stopping her.

Sophie’s face contorted with horror, disappointment, and despair. She was certain she had blown it with Elizabeth—and even though she wasn’t a full-blown lesbian, she knew she wasn’t so ridiculous as to let Elizabeth go on purpose!

Elizabeth suddenly laughed, cupping Sophie’s worried face between her hands. “Sweetie, you did fine! I’m thirty-two; I just don’t often have long make-out sessions anymore, particularly not with little girls who need a good session across my knee.”

At first, there was relief, but the relief was replaced quickly with confusion when Sophie digested some of her words. “Across your… knee?” She wondered if that’s where the kissing lessons were done.

“Come here.”

Sophie let Elizabeth shift her around on her lap until Sophie had a knee planted on each side of Elizabeth’s hips with her bottom resting on Elizabeth’s knees. It seemed childish more than sexy, especially when Elizabeth clasped Sophie’s hands into her own and talked slowly and with a serious yet loving expression on her face.

“Sophia,” she began. “I want a long-term relationship with you more than anything. I want you to live here more than your stubborn little mind can let you believe. I don’t feel foolish for saying that if things work out that I’ll want to keep you forever.” She squeezed her fingers, seeming like she was appraising Sophie’s reaction.

Sophie was definitely up for being the girlfriend of the most amazing woman in the universe, so she hoped she looked more excited than nervous and that the sweat beading on her forehead would go unnoticed.

“But there are certain things you need to know about me, and things we need to get straight from the beginning, okay?”

Sophie nodded. If Elizabeth wanted her to crawl through hot coals every morning, Sophie thought, she’d be amenable to the idea. She’d never wanted a relationship so badly in her entire life… she had never wanted anything so badly.

“I’m a dominant woman, baby. I’m really, really dominant,” she said apologetically. “I need to be in control twenty-four/seven, and I want to be in control of you twenty-four/seven, just like I’ve wanted to be in control of every one of my girlfriends so far. It’s the only way I can function; by having your absolute and total submission to me. You have to do what I tell you to do and trust me.”

Easy! Sophie thought. She’d walk around in a monkey suit if that’s what Elizabeth wanted; besides, everyone in the office knew that it was Elizabeth Button’s way or the highway. She was a control-freak, type-A personality that did not yield and did not bend. Besides, Sophie couldn’t be in control of this relationship—she’d never had a relationship before; she wouldn’t know what she was doing!

So Sophie nodded, with enthusiasm.

“Don’t look so happy just yet,” Elizabeth said with the same serious voice, but the side of her mouth, for the smallest moment, had twitched upward in a grin. She let go of Sophie’s hands and placed her own hands above Sophie’s bottom. “Now, this isn’t going to be a normal relationship. I don’t do normal relationships, Sophia. I’m in charge, and I make the rules, and you will follow the rules. If you break the rules, which you will—” Sophie opened her mouth, but Elizabeth just shook her head and silenced her. “You’ll break some, that’s normal,” she assured, “but when you do, you will be punished. Most of those punishments will consist of, or at least include, a spanking… a hard one. You won’t enjoy it when you get them. They’ll be for discipline, and that will be non-negotiable.”

Sophie couldn’t help but simultaneously be humiliated at the concept, worried about her health, and wondering why everyone who’d had a relationship with her liked to cause her pain.

“Sophia, look at me,” Elizabeth told her, her voice kind and somehow soothing. “I know that face. You’re worrying. I’m not going to beat you. Your health will be my first priority, and I will never give you more than you can take. I won’t hurt any trust you have in me, and I promise that when I do it, I won’t love you any less. After a spanking, I’ll make sure you get all the love and care you need to feel better. The spanking will just be a deterrent to bad behavior and to keep you submissive to my authority. That’s all.”

“I-I won’t behave badly!” Sophie assured desperately. “I’m eighteen, though—I’m too old for spankings. You can just tell me to do something, and I’ll do it, I promise.”

“Just like you promised to call me if you needed help?” Elizabeth retorted, arching an eyebrow.

Sophie flushed. “Well, that was different… I didn’t want…”

Elizabeth’s brow was still arched, looking quite disbelieving. There wasn’t going to be any argument that Sophie could win, she could tell.

“But I’m eighteen,” she repeated, which she felt was her best defense in the anti-spanking argument.

“I know you’re eighteen,” Elizabeth assured, reaching up and tucking a loose curl of Sophie’s drying hair behind her ear, “but sweetheart—you’re still young. You’re going to make mistakes—tons and tons. And I’m going to have to be extra-strict with you to try to keep you from making big ones because you’re so young. You’re still really impressionable.

“Besides,” she continued, “You’ve already earned a good spanking; you have to learn how to ask me for help when I’ve told you to a million times. It’s not like you’ve never had the opportunity, but you just kept looking in my face and lying to me, saying everything was all right. At the end you were doing it while knowing that you were about to sell your virginity like it was hardware.” She shook her head and muttered mostly to herself, “I’m going to send the officer that busted you a damn fruit basket! I’ve never been so thankful in my life.” She squeezed Sophie’s body again. “Do you know what a serious mistake you were going to make?”

Sophie, feeling very scolded and petulant indeed, lowered her eyes to look at Elizabeth’s perfect throat instead of her lecturing eyes.

“And there’s one more important thing, and I want you to think really hard about this. Not everyone can do this, and if you’re against it, then I will still help you in every way I can, even if we can’t be romantically involved…” Elizabeth trailed off.

Sophie launched into a defense. “No, no! I can take the spankings! I can! You won’t give me many anyway, because as I said, I will do everything you say!” she assured desperately… too desperately, maybe. She immediately shut her mouth, flushing.

Elizabeth smiled at her and stroked Sophie’s arm. “No, no. This other thing has to do with my sexual relationship. You see, I’m in a long-term relationship already with my two boyfriends who live here, too.”

Sophie shifted her eyes back and forth, considering this. This was heavy. She hadn’t even heard of anyone living like this. Controlling? Sure. Lesbian? Absolutely. But this… This was new.

“So… It’s not just you and me? The guys downstairs are…”

“Are my boyfriends, yes.”

Deep breaths, Sophie told herself. “Do I have to be… Do they have to… ?” She didn’t know how to word it, but she was absolutely certain that if the men had to “approve” her, she’d be toast. She’d be out of the house by sunset! Any man who’d want Elizabeth couldn’t possibly want Sophie, too.

Elizabeth shifted Sophie on her lap, drawing her even closer. “You don’t have to do anything with them,” Elizabeth promised frankly. “They’re not going to expect sex from you. If you want to, and they want to, and it works, then it’s fine with me, but we’re part of a circle of trust. I’m bringing you into the circle and I’m positive that you’ll get along with them just fine. Trust me; you’re their type. They’re going to love you. But if you don’t like them, you and I will figure something else out. But I want you to realize up-front that it’s not just you and me—there’s more to this ‘us.’” Elizabeth was searching Sophie’s face for something, looking concerned. “How do you feel about that?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know,” she heard herself whispering, daring to be honest. “I don’t know how it’ll work. But I’m willing to try,” she admitted, because she was. She’d try anything to stay with Elizabeth; she didn’t want to let go of her, and she’d be damned if she’d give Liz a reason to drop her.

Elizabeth smiled and kissed her on the lips. “You’d do that for me?” Elizabeth asked her.

Sophie nodded. “Anything,” she promised, then reached her arms around Elizabeth and hugged the woman. Elizabeth smelled so good in her perfume, like soft soap. She was getting held tightly in return, and for a long, wonderful moment, they just sat there in their embrace.

Then Elizabeth took a deep breath and patted Sophie’s bottom. “All right, sweetheart, let’s get this over with.”

“What?” Sophie fretted, not liking the change in tone at all.

“Get over my knees, honey,” Elizabeth ordered. “It’s better to get this discipline done and then I’ll take you downstairs to meet the boys.” She patted Sophie’s butt again as if to tell her to scoot.

Sophie’s eyes widened, unable to believe that it was suddenly time for all these good feelings and excitement to end. “I really don’t want a spanking,” Sophie was brave enough to say, anchoring herself to Elizabeth’s lap.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Too bad. I’ll give you to the count of three, by which time you’d better be over my knee and already thinking about what your pride has given you the last two years.”

“But—” Sophie tried again.

Elizabeth suddenly didn’t look so warm and cuddly. She looked cross. “One,” she counted.

Sophie’s eyes went round and she scrambled off Elizabeth’s lap by the count of ‘two’ and bent back over it, feeling every bit as ridiculous as she feared she would.

She felt Liz adjust her on her lap so that her bottom was right in the middle, bent upwards, and until Sophie’s toes were only fanning across the floorboards. Elizabeth flipped up Sophie’s sundress over her back and neck.

Suddenly, a horrifying thought occurred to Sophie, and right at the worst possible time. “What if your boyfriends can hear?” she whispered fretfully. Surely Elizabeth didn’t want Sophie to die with mortification when she’d meet the two men.

Elizabeth snorted with amusement. “Believe you me,” she replied, “they’ve heard me give plenty of spankings in the past, and I’ve seen and heard them give plenty of spankings themselves. I assure you that they’ll hardly be alarmed. You need to be worried more about you right now, Sophia.”

Sophie was plenty worried about herself as it was, and they hadn’t even started yet. Still, now her mind digested the image of two men spanking their girlfriends. Did people always do this, and it was just never discussed? Or was it sexual? Or maybe—

All thoughts stopped as soon as Elizabeth’s hand came down firmly upon Sophie’s cotton panties, which were no help at all in blocking the blow. That hand brought a sting that Sophie’s mind hadn’t comprehended possible. “Ow!” she yelped, and even turned her head back toward Elizabeth with an angry glare, but Elizabeth only continued with a look of total focus and determination on her face.

The room quickly rang with the sound of Elizabeth’s hand cracking against Sophie’s bottom cheeks, which sounded shockingly loud.

Sophie had hoped she was just being paranoid when she imagined “only spanking” being horrible, but now she realized that she had every right to worry. Not only about the pain, but the ridiculous amount of noise the event created; even without Sophie’s yips and ‘yikes’, the loud, sharp clapping sound from the spanking was surely traveling through the house. Anyone standing within a mile, Sophie was sure, who had working ears would surely know that somebody was getting a spanking.

Sophie’s hand flew back to protect her poor, affronted bottom from any further assault.

“Don’t you cover that naughty bottom, young lady!” Elizabeth scolded her, making Sophie’s cheeks glow red. Elizabeth grabbed Sophie’s wrist with her free hand and pinned it to the small of her back.

Feeling quite trapped, Sophie began to kick and flail from the new attack of swats. “No! Nooo! Please!” she whined loudly. “It hurts! It hurts! I can’t take it! I can’t take anymore! Please! Don’t!”

“Oh, this bottom can take a lot more, and it will if you ever take matters into your own hands again! Pride is not an excuse, do you understand?”

Oh, my God, I’m actually gonna die, Sophie thought fretfully. She was already cringing. “Yes! Yes, I understand! Please!”

“No, your bottom isn’t done yet! I want you to think about how foolish you’ve been every time you sit down today. I do not like giving discipline spankings, Sophia, but don’t ever think I won’t!”

Sophie was struggling to breathe over the sharp pain that landed over and over again on her bottom. She would do anything to avoid this.

Josh and Charlie, even though they had been pretending to ignore the sounds upstairs at first, were now looking straight up at the ceiling without restraint. They could even hear the words of Liz’s scolding over the loud smacking noises and between unintelligible whimpering. “I can’t believe that you’d go out and do something so horribly dangerous rather than just call and ask me for help! Do you know you could have been killed? …No, I’m not going to stop yet! I want to make sure the message gets written on this naughty behind of yours not to take those sorts of risks ever again. I’ve never heard of such a thing! What were you thinking?”

Josh adjusted his bulge and then took a swig of orange juice. “I missed this,” he said, pointing up.

“That witch is trying to destroy me,” Charlie declared with an unhappy grunt, although he was packing some serious wood, too. He forgot how damn arousing Liz’s scoldings were or how witnessing real discipline made him feel. Still, he hated being manipulated. “It’s not going to work. I am not going to take on another little girl, I’m just not. You give them the moon, and then they roll over you with it,” Charlie added sourly.

“Wow. Lacey trashed you, man. But really, I never liked her much to begin with. For one, you could tell she wasn’t a Liz fan. And you have to be a Liz fan to live in this fine establishment.” Josh tousled his own unwashed hair; Charlie feared that was the way Josh was styling it nowadays. “Second, I didn’t like Lacey because she was a selfish jerk.”

Charlie rolled his eyes with disagreement.

“She was, man! You just never saw it because you were always cock-deep in her. She was like an evil soul-sucking siren from hell. She also fake-cried to get her way all the time.” He pointed to the ceiling. “Hear that? That’s the sound of actual tears. It’s delicious. She sounds like she’s in actual pain, man. And do you know why?” Josh asked, his brows raised. “Because she probably is in actual pain. This kid’s ass isn’t made of leather and I’m guessing she can’t subspace in negative-one seconds!”

“You’re saying that like subspace is a bad thing,” Charlie replied in a drawl.

“It is when a girl actually could benefit from a little discipline, yeah,” Josh replied with fervor. “And Lacey needed a lot of it. She was a brat, and not the cute, fun kind. She was out of control. Mean-spirited. I was glad to see her go.”

Charlie didn’t reply for a second; he felt a desire to defend Lacey, but at the same time, he was still stinging from being dumped. He eventually griped, “I think Liz is being pretty high-handed about this new girl, honestly. I can’t believe she just brought her in here without talking to us about it first.”

Josh responded with a look that was one-hundred-percent judgmental. “It’s called being a good Samaritan, bro,” Josh explained curtly. “You know Liz has been banging her head against the wall for forever trying to figure out how to give the kid a leg-up. When she found a way, she took it. Good for her. Besides, I can find more deserving things to gripe about than our girlfriend bringing home a young, innocent, spankable, virgin girl.”

“We don’t know anything about her. She could be… I don’t know. A psycho or something,” Charlie reminded peevishly.

“Well, just keep an open mind,” Josh replied. “I mean, yeah—Liz sometimes steers us around by our noses. But let me ask you this: has she yet steered us wrong?”

Chapter Four

Sophie had never cried so hard in her life, even though she had been in more pain than this.

Spanking heralded a different sort of pain; one where she didn’t feel angry, or even abused and nervous. Actually, she was surprised to find herself filled with relief.

Elizabeth, although she had proved to be a disciplinarian extraordinaire when she’d made her bottom feel like it was on fire (a burning, pulsing fire), now was shushing her, making cooing noises, and rubbing her hand across her lower back soothingly. When Sophie’s sobs quieted slightly, Elizabeth said gently, “You’re not going to keep anything in now, are you? You’re going to let me take care of you?”

Sophie gave out another breathy sob as she said, “Yes, Ma’am, I swear.”

“Good girl.” Elizabeth rubbed her fingers against Sophie’s burning bottom for a second, then she helped Sophie off her lap and had Sophie stand in front of her briefly. However, when Elizabeth saw that Sophie was standing on wobbly legs, Sophie was ushered back onto her lap, only right-end-up now, practically cradling her in her arms. Sophie’s bottom was killing her and it was impossible to get comfortable, but in moments, Sophie didn’t care. Elizabeth rocked her, kissed her cheeks and forehead, and assured her that she’d be protected and kept safe like the treasure she was.

Sophie almost felt herself drift off to sleep, and surely would have if her stomach didn’t growl.

Elizabeth patted her bottom softly and said, “I want to get some food in you. And then you’re going back up here for a nap, young lady. You look pooped.”

Sophie chewed her lip nervously. She really couldn’t bear the thought of meeting two men right now. She was too tired, too vulnerable, her ass throbbed, and the fact that they’d know what had just occurred in here would cause her humiliation galore. “No, no… I’ll just nap right now,” she replied, rolling off Elizabeth’s lap and onto the bed, where she promptly began cleaning the tears off her face with her sleeve.

She didn’t fool Elizabeth for a second. The woman only stood up, ironed out her skirt with her hands, and sighed, “Sophia, it’s time to meet the guys. They’re not going anywhere. When you leave this room, they’ll still be there, and they’ll still know you were spanked. If you don’t like them knowing it, then be a good girl. Now, come on. Move it, missy.”

Elizabeth’s hurry-inducing hand-clapping made Sophie sniffle and slowly slink unhappily off the bed. Elizabeth looked at the ceiling, obviously exasperated, grabbed Sophie’s hand, and then walked her into the bathroom where a washcloth was wetted and Elizabeth cleaned the dried tears off Sophie’s face. Afterward, she turned Sophie around and put her hair up in a fishtail braid so quickly that Sophie was in awe by it—she couldn’t tie her own shoes so quickly.

After knowing her for two years, Sophie understood that Elizabeth was very choosy about what she would let Sophie compliment her on, and fishtail braids, or the ease of their making, was not something she’d let Sophie invest her time in talking about. Elizabeth turned Sophie toward the door and patted the back of her skirt before Sophie allowed her to lead her out of the room and down the stairs. “Who’s Lacey?” she asked, pointing to the door.

“An old girlfriend. She doesn’t live here any longer,” Elizabeth replied simply, and she continued down the stairs, stemming away any other questions about whoever Lacey was and where she was at this moment. Elizabeth merely told her to stop stalling and led her into the kitchen.

When Sophie made it into the kitchen, she froze, suddenly very intimidated. She simply wasn’t used to seeing such attractive people everywhere she went. The men in the kitchen were ridiculously handsome. It was almost offensive—both men looked like gods who got lost in Liz’s kitchen on the way to Mount Olympus. Judging from their build and their size, they had to be athletes. There was one sitting on a stool at the kitchen island who had broad shoulders and highlighted, tousled hair. He was a little scruffy and younger than the other one and he was sporting the just-got-out-of-bed look.

The other was standing at the sink with a dishcloth slung over his shoulder. He was big enough to swallow her whole; she probably wouldn’t even get caught in his gigantic neck on the way down. Still, he was dressed impeccably well in a pink tie and a three-piece suit, had his hair combed and slicked back, and his face was perfectly shaven. He looked familiar, somehow, like she’d seen him a few times before, but she couldn’t place where. How she could have forgotten meeting someone who looked like that, however, was the true mystery.

“Sophia, this is Charlie,” Elizabeth quickly introduced as soon as they walked into the room, pointing at the man who’d been washing the dishes, “and this is his brother, Josh Hobbes. Guys?” She gestured, smiling, at Sophie. “This is Sophia Lynn Benny.”

“No way is she eighteen,” the one with highlights, Josh, cried while slapping his hand on the counter. He smiled, exposing pearl-white teeth. “No way! Look at her—she’d fit into overhead storage!”

Sophie frowned and blushed, stepping closer to Elizabeth, who snapped, “Shut up, Josh!” She turned to Sophie, grabbed her hand, and pulled her close, putting an arm across her waist. “I’m sorry about him,” Elizabeth said. “Josh isn’t housebroken yet. That’s why we make him live in the back yard.”

Charlie, however, looked like he hadn’t blinked since he saw Sophie. He looked confused for a second, and then he pursed his lips together, not looking happy, and stepped toward her. He put his hand out and said, “Sophia,” in greeting, although he didn’t smile.

Sophie shyly put her hand into his, saying, “It’s really just Sophie, actually.”

He didn’t respond; he seemed very intent at looking at her hand, which he hadn’t let go of. In fact, he used his other hand to grab her gently at the wrist so that he could press her palm against his own. Her whole hand fit into his palm. He was a behemoth.

He and Elizabeth exchanged a look that Sophie couldn’t read, but eventually he dropped her hand and talked right over Sophie’s head at Elizabeth. “All right, all right,” he said with a defeated sigh. “If you’re sure she’s eighteen? Because that would be bad…”

“Positive. I saw her ID at the station,” Elizabeth assured with a slight laugh. She patted Sophie on her back. “What do you want for breakfast? Eggs? Pancakes? Froot Loops?”

“Oh,” Sophie said, surprised at the list of options. “Froot…” She stopped there because, in the excitement about eating, she’d forgotten that chewing was painful. Her excitement suddenly died and she realized Froot Loops weren’t meant to be. She hadn’t eaten solid food since she was thrown out of the house. “Pancakes,” she said, disappointed.

“Are you sure?” Josh seemed to be extremely amused by her change of mind; he was even chuckling.

She nodded, closing her arms around herself for comfort.

“Well, we’ll give bunny whatever she wants.”

She shot Josh a look of confusion, and then realized he was calling her by her last name. “It’s Benny, not bunny.” Her face twisted. With her South Boston accent, those two words came out nearly identical. Her cheeks went red. “I mean…”

Charlie appeared to be strait-laced, but he was even snickering.

“She looks like a cute little bunny; it works,” Josh replied, saluting Sophie with his coffee. He waved his hand at her, got up from his stool, and moved over to sit down in the breakfast nook. “Come on and sit down here and we’ll have Charlie do all the work. That’s how we do things here,” he informed her with a wink, patting the seat next to him. He looked up at Liz. “And you too, woman.”

“Give me a moment,” Liz said, holding up a finger. “I think I forgot a bunch of work documents up in Sophie’s room when I got home. I should go get them before I forget to—”

Sophie bounced into attention. “I’ll go get them!” she said, grateful to get out of the room for a breather. Too much attention in too little time.

“Go sit down, young lady. I’ll get—” Liz began, but Sophie was already scurrying by. Liz sighed and gave her a good swat on her already tender bottom that, even though it wasn’t hard, had Sophie reaching protectively back before she scurried out of the room.

“And I want to see an ID!” she heard Charlie boom behind her. She blushed. He really didn’t think she was eighteen? Sheesh!

“And the future Mrs. Hobbes leaves the room,” Josh announced after they listened to Sophie marching up to the second floor, taking the steps two at a time.

Liz turned and smirked at him. “Why?” she asked. “Are you gonna marry her, Josh?”

“Either that or Charlie will,” Josh replied, picking up his orange juice, then gesturing to his very flustered brother with it. “You just served us our wet dream on a platter. Good hunting, Miss Button.” Josh winked at her.

Elizabeth did not return the wink. Instead, she grew serious. “Guys, I’m warning you,” she cautioned, “she’s inexperienced, she’s young, she comes from a rough background full of neglect and abuse. So, I don’t know if sharing her is a good idea, or if she’d ever even want to be shared.”

“Shotgun,” Josh reminded, turning to Charlie.

“There won’t be any shotguns called!” Elizabeth snapped at Josh, sweeping her hand declaratively in front of her. “So stop it.” She turned to Charlie and said, jerking her thumb in Josh’s direction, “Do me a favor and punch him in the head? And why are you so quiet?”

Charlie was mixing up pancakes with a look to kill on his face, like he wanted to punish the batter.

“I’m just thinking that you’re an evil witch who apparently doesn’t listen to me when I said I wanted to end the whole daddy thing. What I should be doing is taking off my belt and giving you a dose,” he growled.

Elizabeth had been threatened before, but after a lifetime with Charlie, he had never spanked her. “You don’t have to be her daddy, Charlie. I’m not even saying I’ve put the option for you on the table. She’s a baby; she doesn’t know about age-play or D-and-S or anything like that stuff.”

“Honey, you just brought a chicken into the fox house and you’re telling us not to at least have a taste,” Josh reminded her. “Besides, look at that little thing,” he said, pointing toward the stairs that Sophie had disappeared up into. “She needs a daddy. She’s cute as a ball of kittens and pocket-sized for our convenience! She’s young, impressionable, in need of protecting, guidance, surely some spankings…”

“Josh!” came the growl from both Charlie and Liz at once.

Josh gave an innocent shrug. “Fine; I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” He quieted as they heard Sophie clamber downstairs, making a lot of noise on the steps like she was a herd of elephants and not a pipsqueak teenager.

She came into the room with a bunch of papers pressed to her chest and an ID closed into her fist. She pivoted a few times, as if unsure whether to deliver the papers or show Charlie her ID first.

Eventually she passed Elizabeth the stack of papers and walked up to Charlie, who was pouring pancake batter onto the hot skillet in front of him, and held out the ID.

As soon as he put the bowl of batter down, he grabbed her ID out of her hand and peered over it, then flipped it over and scanned the back. “What’s this?” he grumbled irritably. “Weirdest ID I ever saw. Where’s your driver’s license?”

“I don’t have a driver’s license,” Sophie replied tersely, as if he should have guessed that much. “I don’t have a car, and neither did anyone in my family. Getting a permit would have been stupid, so I just got my state-issued ID when I was looking for a job a couple of years ago.”

When he finally decided her identification wasn’t a fake, he passed it back to her. “How’d you get to work, then?” he asked grouchily.

 “It’s called a bus, Mr. Hobbes. I know you’ve probably never actually ridden on one before, but they’re big cars that pick you up from one spot and drop you off in another.” The sarcasm was like syrup on her tongue. Liz watched as Charlie’s face reddened. Chances were that he’d never been treated like a snooty elitist before.

Josh snorted during his failed attempt to stifle his laughter and covered up his mouth with his hand so that there wouldn’t be evidence of his smile, either.

Charlie eyed his brother and then looked down at Sophie. “Any more sarcasm like that, young lady, and I’m not adding any chocolate chips to your pancakes,” he warned.

Her forehead smoothed as she narrowed her eyes with confusion. “Huh? Chocolate chips in pancakes?” she asked.

“Yeah, makes them like cookies,” Charlie said, and added some to one of her pancakes just to illustrate.

She got up on her tiptoes and watched what he was doing with large owl eyes. “Whoa.”

His annoyance over Sophie’s tone dissipated with the childlike fascination she was displaying, Charlie squinted over at Liz in an accusatory you-did-this-you-witch! look.

Liz merely returned his glare with a look of a cat that got the cream. She patted her lap. “Come here, baby,” she called to Sophie. “Get out of Charlie’s path if you don’t want a pancake to land on your head.”

Sophie chewed her lip slightly when she was called ‘baby,’ but she eventually walked over to Liz and let her guide her onto her lap.

“You guys don’t need to see my license. I mean, I won’t tell anybody about your relationship,” she told Josh, yet her voice was loud enough for Charlie to hear. “I mean, I wouldn’t want Miss Button to get in trouble—I know how this might look if, like, the news found out. Liz is kinda a celebrity.”

“And so is Charlie. Hence his paranoia,” Josh added with a wink.

She lifted an eyebrow and looked over at Charlie. “A celebrity of what?”

Charlie’s shoulders stiffened; Liz knew that he wished he was a little more well-known to the non-football crowd. “We’ll talk to you about everything, promise,” Liz said in her ear, giving her an adoring squeeze.

“Well, I wouldn’t tell anyone about everything. This house is like Vegas—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” Sophie announced to the room, straightening.

Josh gave a small laugh and Liz rewarded Sophie with a kiss on the cheek, then a pat on the thigh when Sophie squirmed over to the seat next to her. The chair had padding on it, but Sophie didn’t seem too impressed with its ability to make her bottom feel any better.

“That’s very mature of you,” Josh said. “Thank you.”

Charlie came over, delivering a plate of pancakes in front of her with a tall glass of orange juice. Sophie stared at the orange juice like it was an uninvited pest. “Do you want milk instead?” Charlie asked after shaking his head at Sophie’s apparent pickiness.

“Do you have any orange soda?” Sophie asked hopefully.

“For breakfast? Or in the fridge?” Charlie replied crisply.

“Uh… either? Er… both, I guess,” she answered hesitantly.

“No,” he told her firmly, as if requesting such a thing was a ridiculous thing to do. “Soda’s bad for you, young lady; there is absolutely nothing good about it, especially before noon.” He tapped her plate. “Now eat before it gets cold.”

She turned her head to glare at Charlie as he poured coffee into a couple of mugs, grabbed the syrup bottle by her hand, and then literally drowned her pancakes with it. When he turned back toward the table and seemed shocked by the pool of sugar, she looked up at him with newfound bravery as if to say, “Take that, Health Nazi!

Josh came over and sat down next to her before Charlie could respond to it. Josh nabbed the syrup bottle out of Sophie’s hand like it was a loaded gun and set it out of her reach, saying, “Whoa! Would you like some pancakes to eat with all that syrup? Sheesh, bunny! We’re gonna have to peel you off the walls in another half hour!”

Charlie put the coffee in front of Liz and grumbled as he sat down at the table.

“So… You gonna ask any questions, or can I start?” Josh asked as he leaned on the table, crossing his arms in front of him.

Sophie was slicing into her pancakes, but stopped to raise an eyebrow. For a second, she looked confused, but then she turned to Charlie. “You’re a celebrity? Like, you can’t be very famous though, right?”

Charlie frowned, looking taken aback. “I’m a commentator for ESPN,” he replied defensively.

“Charlie used to be this big football hotshot before he blew out his shoulder,” Josh explained casually. “Or rather, blew out his shoulder about five times. How his arm’s still attached to his body, I don’t quite understand. If I were his shoulder, I would have gotten up and left by now.” He stole a grape from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. “He used to be a quarterback in the big leagues for nine years, but now he just quarterbacks on Monday mornings. He got this big TV deal going on. They pay him just for yammering on like an idiot while drawing all over other coaches’ plays like he knows any better.”

“Thanks, Josh,” Charlie said tersely.

“I’m just explaining why you act crazy and all secretive anytime someone new walks through the front door. I can probably claim plausible deniability because I just reside in the pool house.” He pointed to the back yard.

Sophie followed his finger. “Why do you live in the pool house?”

“So chicks don’t know about the steady girlfriend I share with my brother when I bring them over,” he answered easily.

“Josh has sex with everything that moves,” Elizabeth added with a grin in Josh’s direction.

“So, like, all of us can go and have sex with anyone whenever we want?” Sophie asked, looking unsure.

“No,” the men immediately answered before Liz could even open her mouth.

“Well,” Liz hedged, “you can have sex with someone other than me, honey, but not just anyone.” She gave Charlie and Josh a chiding glance before she continued. “It’s just that we have a circle of trust. I’m only having sex with Josh and Charlie. Charlie’s girlfriend recently left us, but Charlie and I used to share her,” she admitted. “But Charlie only has sex with his steady girlfriend or with me. And Josh… Well, Josh makes sure he uses protection and gets tested very regularly. You see; if one of us gets a problem, we all get a problem, so we have to be careful. Right, Josh?” She turned toward Josh, eyeing him for support.

Josh snorted defensively. “Oh, come on. I’m still getting crap about that? It was eight years ago, okay? It was Vegas, I was young, and it was only crabs. Let it go.”

Sophie shuddered with disgust.

“Never feel pressured to have sex with any of us,” Liz said, reaching over and entwining her fingers through Sophie’s. “If it happens, fine. If not, that’s fine, too. I plan to get much more out of this relationship than just sex, sweetie. I can use Charlie or Josh if I’m in the mood.”

“And I love being used in her moods,” Josh assured. “Liz is my lobster dinner when it comes to sex. Nobody’s better than Liz, nobody. Not possible. That being said,” he added, “even though she’s my fine dining, I like to have a cheeseburger every now and then.”

Sophie poked at her mushy pancake before asking something else. “So do you guys… you know…” She blushed slightly. “… at the same time?”

Liz rolled her eyes. “No,” she declared firmly. After a second, she added, “Well, once…”

Josh put up three fingers and mouthed to Sophie, “Three times,” with a proud and mischievous air about him.

Liz sighed at Josh. “It doesn’t really work for me to get taken by two men at once.”

Josh leaned toward Sophie. “Our girl’s pretty dominant, in case you haven’t noticed,” Josh reminded Sophie, and she immediately perked up when Josh included her, like dating Liz made her part of a special club. Josh went on, “I guess it’s apparently a challenge to be in control when you’ve got two cocks to please at once. So, really, it only happened when we were all crazy-ass drunk, which you won’t see often. There’s not a single beer in this house, as you’ll learn, because Charlie’s a big wet blanket.”

Sophie smirked at that.

Charlie gave Josh a short-lived glare before he added, “Liz prefers one of us and one of— well, you—in her threesomes,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Sophie said, sounding small. She wasn’t pink this time; her cheeks were beginning to flush white. She sunk slowly down into her seat, staring distantly into her syrup puddle.

“Sophie, you don’t have to do anything,” Charlie added. “I want you to think of Josh and me like family. We’re here to protect you from doing anything you don’t want to do, and we’ll do nothing but defend your every wish. So don’t worry yourself. We don’t expect anything from you.” Charlie might have soothed her with that monologue, but then he continued, “Except that you behave yourself, keep your room clean, follow rules, and that you make good, healthy, responsible choices—and it goes without saying that a healthy and good choice is to always speak to us respectfully and do what we tell you to.”

Sophie gave Charlie a rueful look. Apparently, she wasn’t as interested in doing everything that Charlie wanted as she was when Liz had asked it of her.

Charlie caught her look and furrowed his eyebrows. “What? You’re eighteen; we’re not just going to let you run amuck around here. That’s nothing personal, it’s just that I remember myself at eighteen and I needed a good kick in the ass. So did everyone I know, especially Josh. So, we’ll watch you like a hawk to make sure you keep your nose clean. Just be a good girl in return and we’ll get along great.”

“Well, aren’t I relieved?” Sophie wasn’t teasing, her cheeks were flushed, and it brought a tense air to what everyone thought was a light conversation. She pushed her plate away and stood up.

“Sweetheart,” Liz protested. “You should eat some—”

“No,” Sophie decreed. “These pancakes are gross, and it’s definitely not because of the syrup!” With that, she spun on her heel and marched upstairs without another word.

There was now silence at the breakfast nook. Like always, Josh broke the awkward silence. “Remember when Dad used to take us fishing when we were kids, and then he’d let you reel the fish onto the boat right at the end? And then somehow you’d lose it?” he asked Charlie, pulling over Sophie’s nearly full plate and picking up her fork. “Well, that’s what happened here. We were getting close, we were expanding that little sexual part of her mind, getting her curious and asking questions, and you just had to impose your dominance. Next time, just bite her on the back of her neck when she comes into the kitchen and then take her in the ass. It’d be just as obvious, only then she might have a better opinion of you.” He took a bite of her pancakes. “She’s wrong, though. It’s definitely the syrup that’s making them soggy and gross.”

Charlie sat back in his chair and sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. Liz could feel his frustration radiating out of him; she gave him a kiss on his cheek and snuggled up to him supportively.

“It’s easier getting a girlfriend from the Internet,” Charlie said. “You can tell them everything up front, and if they don’t like it, they don’t respond to your ad.”

“Wow, bro. You should write love sonnets,” Josh said with a laugh.

When Sophie woke up from her nap, she didn’t really feel like the sleep had done her much good. A knot of worry still clenched in her tummy, making it hard to breathe or swallow. Coupled with actual hunger, she was actually beginning to feel a little sick.

Sophie wasn’t sure what she’d landed in the middle of, but she had a feeling that she wasn’t done falling down this rabbit hole.

Charlie was the worst; the man had easily gotten under her skin. She’d had enough with rotten men telling her what to do all the time. It was different when Elizabeth did it. Sure, Elizabeth’s dominance made Sophie’s stomach clench with worry and even now she couldn’t help but notice that she was lying on her stomach, but she did believe that Elizabeth loved her.

Even if Elizabeth didn’t love her, she loved Elizabeth. Besides, Elizabeth seemed to understand that Sophie could walk out the door at any time, that she was still an adult with her own life. It didn’t seem like Charlie understood that.

As for Josh—Josh was actually okay. She liked him, but only because she had a feeling that he didn’t have a filter. His lack of not holding anything back made him seem trustworthy, at least.

As Sophie lay there, Elizabeth eventually quietly entered into the room and slowly, gently lay down next to her. She pulled Sophie up against her body, then petted Sophie’s thigh with her long fingers.

She began to explain things a little more, with a very clear, gentle voice, immediately bringing up Charlie.

Charlie, Elizabeth tried to explain, was supposedly just “dominant in nature” and he tried to control everyone, not just Sophie. Elizabeth kissed Sophie’s shoulder and said, “To him, you’re just a little girl that he wants to play daddy to. That’s the only part he knows how to play.”

Elizabeth found the edge of Sophie’s skirt and slowly began to push it up her thigh. Sophie took in quiet, measured breathes as she continued to let Elizabeth talk and pet her, feeling her hands pressing her skirt higher and higher, until Elizabeth stopped talking. She felt Elizabeth kiss her shoulder again, and then Elizabeth’s hand crept toward the inside of Sophie’s thighs.

Sophie closed her eyes, savoring the touch and the way it made her whole body tingle. Slowly, she opened her thighs to Elizabeth’s hand until the woman brushed against the cloth of her panties, her knuckles rubbing across her vagina.

Elizabeth pulled Sophie from her side and onto her back then, and kissed her mouth. A tingling and burning heat began to quickly build in Sophie’s loins, and she kissed back hungrily, lapping at Elizabeth’s tongue and letting her direct every move of the kiss. Elizabeth pushed at Sophie’s thighs until she was spread wider, and then she slipped her hand around the edge of her panties. She ran her hand over her mound and then cupped her. “My, my,” Elizabeth finally teased, her voice low and sultry. “We’re just sopping wet, aren’t we, baby girl?” Elizabeth nibbled on Sophie’s upper ear, then kissed her again.

Sophie’s heart had nearly stopped beating when Elizabeth said, “Do you want Mommy to take these wet panties off, baby?”

Sophie’s clit pulsed violently at the words, making her thighs twitch. She took an excited breath; she couldn’t help it, but she felt something built within her that made her feel like she was going to bust. All she could do was nod and murmur, “Uh huh…”

Elizabeth did, slowly sliding Sophie’s borrowed panties down her hips until they bunched around her knees, then Elizabeth reached up and took her own shirt off.

Elizabeth’s breasts were ridiculously large, amazingly soft, and pillowy. Sophie had a moment of both complete wonderment and green jealousy. Elizabeth snapped the front hook of her bra open and exposed her white, luscious breasts and her swollen, red nipples. “Come to Mommy, baby. Suck Mommy’s nipples for her.” She pulled Sophie’s head to her breasts.

Cautiously, Sophie kissed Elizabeth’s nipples and then awkwardly put out her tongue, swiping it across the hard little gem. Elizabeth gave a loud, heated moan and writhed over her, then fell to the side and pulled Sophie on top of her body, petting her head as Sophie continued to give her breasts every attention.

Feeling much more confident, Sophie flicked her tongue against Elizabeth’s nipples again and was rewarded by Elizabeth moaning gutturally. “Open your mouth, baby. I want you to suck on me. Don’t you want to?”

Sophie, finding herself delighted for the instruction and the invitation, opened her mouth, took Elizabeth’s breast in, and sucked hungrily on it, rubbing the back of her tongue against the taut nipple.

Elizabeth was going crazy, but eventually she seemed to pull it together enough and began to concentrate on Sophie, finally taking advantage of how Sophie’s panties no longer covered her mound.

Sophie gasped when Elizabeth cupped her bare pubis and started to stroke her delicate, untouched inner folds. She began to moan and simper out sexy, naughty words, “That’s it…” she murmured. “Mommy loves her little baby girl. She loves making her feel good because she’s making Mommy feel so good. You’re so wet, honey…”

Elizabeth flicked her finger across Sophie’s clit, and Sophie bucked, then clamped her legs closed. She was stunned by the feeling, and felt like she’d been zapped with a bolt of electricity. Elizabeth held her close and coaxed her to spread her thighs again. “I’m just making you feel good, honey. Just relax,” she cooed to her. “Haven’t you orgasmed before?”

Sophie barely had the opportunity. She slept on the sofa at home, where five siblings under the age of ten and her parents were constantly sitting or walking about, and like hell if she’d risk any of them walking in on her touching herself. Even if she had found the time to try it, she’d never have been able to make herself come to any sort of finish or relief. Though Sophie had certainly had never been this aroused in her entire life.

Sophie shook her head honestly, and Elizabeth giggled with joy and kissed her. “You’re just too much. I’m having too much fun with you. Spread your legs wide and Mommy will take care of everything for you.”

Again, Elizabeth explored and tickled Sophie’s outer lips, then inner folds, and then she pressed her thumb right onto Sophie’s clit again. This time, Sophie couldn’t move; she could just whimper as Elizabeth moved the swollen little nub back and forth, up and down. “Nipples, baby,” Elizabeth reminded, and Sophie went back to sucking deeply on them, kneading the spare one desperately with her hand.

“Oh, God… Yes…” Elizabeth moaned, her voice sounding deeper and silkier than ever before. “You’re such a good baby. Yes… Suck mommy’s nipples… Harder…”

Sophie suddenly let go, her body jerking uncontrollably. Elizabeth held her tighter, stroked her clit faster. “You like that?” Elizabeth asked her, determined. “Call me Mommy,” she demanded, “and tell me how much you like that.”

Her cheeks were red, but she thrust her hips up. “Oh, Mommy… Mommy, yes! Yes!” Sophie’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt short of breath. She felt out of control of her muscles, as if they were being stretched or moved when they’d never even been used before. “Oh… Wait… Wait! Stop! Oh… !”

“Relax, angel, and let go,” Elizabeth ordered.

“Mommy…” Sophie suddenly bellowed, followed by tears. Her inner muscles were clenching and clenching, and it felt like every muscle in her body was ticking, too; even muscles in her knees seemed like they were twitching in reaction to the explosion in her core.

Sophie felt like she was in the middle of a white, cotton haze. Her hearing seemed like it was coming and going, as well as her sight. She couldn’t even think, her brain feeling quite mushy and dreamy…

Finally, her mind cleared, and Elizabeth was there, petting Sophie’s hair. “You’re a good girl,” she cooed.

Sophie swallowed and croaked, “What? What…”

Elizabeth kissed her mouth again, and then stroked her forehead, lovingly leaning her body over her. “You liked calling me Mommy, didn’t you, baby girl?” Elizabeth said, rubbing her inner thigh. “I liked it, too. I’m going to make a new rule for you—when we’re in this house, that’s what you’ll call me. I want you to have it in your mind that I’m in charge, I love you, and you need to depend on me. In return, I’ll give you everything you need, won’t I?”

Shame reemerged. Did she seriously mean for Sophie to call her that outside of the bedroom? Inside, it was pretty hot, even taboo and forbidden… But outside? That would mean… “No, not in front of the guys!” Sophie pleaded. “Please? Please?”

“There aren’t any secrets between me and them,” Elizabeth assured. “You need to realize that we’re all a family here. You will call me Mommy in front of them, is that clear?”

Sophie puffed her cheeks out. “No,” she said defiantly, even though she did like saying it in bed. She wasn’t even sure why, or what she was thinking, but it seemed to right and natural to do so. “No,” she said again, more firmly. It would be just too humiliating. She was even embarrassed for liking how calling her that had hardened her nipples and excited her.

Elizabeth shifted and lifted Sophie’s chin up. “Sophie, that’s a rule. I mean it. If you don’t follow a rule, you’ll get a spanking. Is that clear?”

“It’s embarrassing, though!” Sophie complained, pouting.

“I don’t care, it’ll make me happy,” Elizabeth said, grabbing her chin tighter. “Sophia Lynn? Do we need to have this conversation over my knee? Ma’am or Mommy are the only things you can call me.”

Sophie’s mouth felt dry as she imagined how odd the men downstairs would think she was, but it was quite apparent that Elizabeth wasn’t going to argue about it. Sophie grimaced for a second, but then said, “Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Good girl.” She kissed her again and let go of her chin. “I’m sorry I’m so strict. You should realize I’m big on being in charge. Are you sure you want a relationship with me?” Elizabeth blinked at her, seeming prepared for any response.

Adamant over Elizabeth believing her, Sophie cried, “I do! I do!”

Elizabeth smiled with delight and rubbed her thigh. “I love you, my little Sophie-kins,” she said, which was the first time she’d ever called Sophie by any name less formal than “Sophia.” Sophie smiled at the affectionate term, and how Elizabeth kissed her on the nose afterward, but then Elizabeth slowly sat up and began to put her bra and her shirt back on.

“Mommy,” Sophie said, trying the word to see how it felt on her tongue, “where are you going?”

“To go see Josh, honey,” Elizabeth replied with a warm smile. “I’ve wanted to do something to him all morning.”

Sophie pouted, knowing that Elizabeth meant that she was going to go have sex with Josh. “I can take care of…” she offered, feeling humiliated in not being able to bring Elizabeth pleasure.

“No, honey,” Elizabeth chuckled softly. “You don’t understand; I like you playing with me before I go see Josh or Charlie, and they feel the same way. Josh is probably waiting for me as we speak.”

Sophie pursed her lips, not feeling any better about sharing Liz in this very intimate session. “What’s next?” she muttered. “Will you make me call him Daddy?”

“Oh, no,” Liz laughed. “That would make Charlie jealous. He likes to be Daddy. Josh just likes to be ‘Uncle Josh.’”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. She felt like her mind just exploded.

Elizabeth leaned forward and closed Sophie’s mouth with two of her fingers. “One day you might think about calling them that. It would make them very happy, baby girl. They so want to be invited into our play.”

Despite her shock and even her jealousy, Sophie felt her cunny begin to pulse and heat again at the thought. Sophie couldn’t understand what was wrong with her; why would such a thing excite her? The whole idea was so weird. Sophie put her hands over her eyes. “This is all really weird. Right? It’s weird?” Sophie wasn’t even sure anymore.

Liz leaned over and petted Sophie’s hair for a second, looking at her sympathetically. “Sit tight,” she suddenly said, and then disappeared from the room. She came back in a minute later with a book in her hand. She passed it over, and Sophie eyed the cover with curiosity.

The cover had a girl in her mid-twenties dressed in a pink, ruffly jumper like a toddler might wear, with her hair up in pigtails and oversized ribbons, sitting on an older man’s lap and kissing him. The title read, Age-play Lifestyles for Dummies with a little subtitle toward the bottom that boasted, So easy to read a vanilla could understand it!

“Now, read this and we’ll talk. It’s what we usually are used to here, but if you’re uncomfortable with it and hate everything about it, then we’ll just get used to something else. Even with the mommy thing, I’m just letting you try it out—see if you find you like it.” She smiled a bit. “I know it sounds a little weird, but trust me—there are some lifestyles that you don’t know you like until you’re living in them.”

“I’ve never even heard of anything like this…” she admitted, feeling her face heat. “I mean, spankings, yeah. But…” She looked at the cover and swallowed, feeling intimidated.

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart,” Elizabeth tapped her playfully on the nose with her manicured finger. “I’m just opening the curtain and letting you see what’s out there. It’s all up to you to experience it. But you strike me as someone who would love it if you gave it a chance.”

“So this is what you’d prefer that I like?” Sophie asked, pointing at the cover.

“Sweetheart, I prefer you. It’s up to you to realize what you want.” With that, she stood up. “Be good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Sophie looked at the door after Liz closed it, and then she opened the book she was given and looked down.

She had gone right to the chapter called, Infantilism: Diapers, Discipline, and Constant Care.” Sophie immediately closed the book as if she’d just read something extremely naughty. She even looked over her shoulder, then at the door, before she braved opening it again.

She saw a little drawing of a woman dressed in diapers sitting on her boyfriend’s lap, getting bottle fed. A swarm of emotions felt like they were flying around in her tummy, and she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

Was this what they wanted? Excitement and horror welled up so strongly in the pit of Sophie’s stomach that she felt dizzy by it. The book had a lot of chapters—age-play seemed like a pretty encompassing sort of fetish, including schoolgirls and governesses.

But she couldn’t help but be fascinated. Only she felt strange about being fascinated, even though she had just sucked on a grown woman’s tit like a baby, for God’s sake. Still… She couldn’t help but think of some of the things she’d gone through, things in her past…

At an unwanted flash of memory, she swallowed and hid the book under her pillow as if that would keep her from thinking about it.

She drew her knees up to her chest and looked over at the pillow that the book was lying under and sighed. “This is gonna be a pretty interesting situation,” she murmured to herself.

That’s all until next week’s installment! If you’re aching to finish right now, though, just click below and buy the book!

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