Red Rain: Chapter Seven (F/m) Friday Camille and I spent Thursday night in each other’s arms; chaste, and yet more passion flowed between us than in all our rough exchanges of bodily fluids put together. The next morning I called my machine while she took a long hot shower. The first message was from Nat, reminding me of a practice session for the band. Since it had been set for Wednesday, I skipped ahead. The next was Beth’s, informing me not to bother coming in to work “tomorrow.” Skip. The third was Nat again, and he didn’t sound happy. “Since when do you ever go out? Where the hell are you?” Skip. The fourth, and final message was a cheerful sounding woman I’d never heard before. “Hi, this is Melissa from Marsh, Cartman, Broslofski and McCormick. I’m just calling to confirm your appointment with Samantha Hain at ten o’clock Friday morning. Thank you.” I felt a cold corkscrew spiral up my backbone. As much as I longed for a rematch, I felt constrained by my still not really understanding the relationship between ‘Ms. Hain’ and Camille. To make matters worse; even I had heard of Marsh, Cartman, Broslofski and McCormick. They were the biggest, most successful law firm in town. They’d even been representing the Governor during the latest big scandal. It seemed laughable, all things considered, but I couldn’t help wondering if the bitch was actually going to sue me! I didn’t want to go, but I would be Goddamned if I allowed her to think she’d scared me off. Still, that was easier said than done. I had to take time off from work, and Tracy was working the day shift. He was pretty pissed off about having been tripped up in his own stupidity, and wasn’t real receptive to the idea of me taking my lunch early for a “doctor’s appointment.” By that time I was too wound up to take much shit. I barked some kind of challenge that if he didn’t like it he could fire me, knowing full well that with the Inventory coming up on Monday, he couldn’t afford to, and then went about my usual routine of straightening up and putting out backstock to refresh depleted areas. I left a few minutes after the doors opened at nine-thirty. The offices of Marsh, Cartman, Broslofski and McCormick were located in the “New Bank Building” which held the distinction of being the second tallest building in the city. The tallest was the Ramada, which always struck me as looking like a giant penis thrusting upwards from the flat prairie landscape. They had a the whole floor pretty much to themselves, and I had to admit being impressed by sweeping scale of the reception area. The walls were lined with paintings from several up and coming “primitive” artists, and the top of the circular receptionist’s desk was jade green marble. The receptionist herself, Melissa, was quite a sight herself. She had a bright, unforced smile, and even brighter blue eyes, a lighter shade than her Hain’s. “You must be Jordan,” she said, taking me back a little. “Uh, yeah.” I replied. “Oh, she said you’d be handsome!” she said, wrinkling her nose as she smiled in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Camille. “You can go right on in, Ms. Hain’s expecting you!” She gestured down a short hall and I meandered up to a door that ahd a brass plaque bearing the name “Samantha Hain, esq.” I entered the office without bothering to knock. Inside was no less an impressive sight than the outer area: large and uncluttered by much furniture, save for a large oak desk, behind which Ms. Samantha Hain was sitting. Behind her, a large plate glass window opened out onto a spectacular view of our mediocre skyline. The walls were covered with degrees and plaques and photos of Hain with the last few governors, Senators, sundry political figures and local celebrities. What caught my eye the most, however, was a white bow-shaped object mounted on a pedestal just beside her desk. It must have measured a yard long. “Ahh, admiring my little trophy, are we?” she teased. “Those jaws belong to one Galeocerdo cuvieri,” she said proudly. “Sadly, now deceased.” I stared at her blankly. “Tiger Shark,” she purred, flashing her own menacingly wide grin. “They’re notorious maneaters.” “Cute...” I mumbled. I looked over at her and in spite of myself, broke into a little smile. “What?” she asked. “It’s just... I don’t know... A little clichéd, isn’t it? Lawyer by day, sadistic bitch by night?” “No more clichéd than a twenty-something looser working a dead-end job at the mall,” she replied coolly. I felt myself blush as she scored the hit. “Please, Jordan, do have a seat. I was hoping we might have a nice, civilized discussion.” “I’m not staying that long!” She sighed. “You see, Jordan? It’s just that kind of disrespectful behavior that caused poor sweet Camille so much suffering yesterday!” “You fucking bitch!” I cried out furiously, taking a step forward before remembering how easily she’d wiped the floor with me. She clucked in mock sadness. “And you just insist on making things worse for her the next time, don’t you?” “Is that your idea of ‘civilized?’ “ I spat bitterly. “Threatening Camille if I don’t do what you say?” “Appreciating that one’s actions have consequences beyond themselves is a hallmark of a civilized society, Jordan,” she answered with unnerving calm. “Otherwise you have anarchy.” “Now sit the fuck down!” She hadn’t raised her voice from that professorial tone, but it still hit me like a left hook. I found myself dropping into the chair before her desk without even realizing what I was doing. “Good,” she purred, her eyes narrowing to slits as she regarded me intently. “You know, Jordan, I really feel like I owe you something of an apology,” she said, shocking me. “Really?” “Mmm-hmmm. I’ve always believed that people in this town are such a dull, depressing lot. But I have to say, picking through your life last night proved quite an entertaining experience!” “What?” If possible, her grin grew a little wider, and she pulled a sheaf of papers from a drawer in the desk. She made a big production of tamping them against the desk until the were stacked together in a tight, neat bundle. “Your name is Jordan Philip Geiger. You live alone in a single room apartment, you own an 85 Volkswagen Rabbit, and you carry a balance of two thousand dollars on you credit card. “You were born in Chicago in 1974, but you moved here after your father got a job with the State. You’re quite the mutt, really. Irish, Scottish, Dutch, French by way of Canada, and of course, one quarter Jewish. A very interesting mix. “Your father is an example of the Peter Principle in action: having risen to middle management and stayed there. Your mother is a substitute teacher. And you have a sister who’s two years younger than you, in college out west. A nice school, actually. Does she know Chelsea?” My hands had become a pair of rock-hard fists, and I could hear my breath as it whistled angrily through my nostrils. “You found that all out in one night?” She laughed. “They don’t call this the ‘information age’ for nothing, my dear!” I squirmed in my chair, at the thought of just how exposed all our lives really were, and she continued. “Unlike your sister, you went to State, and flunked out after only one semester. What caught my attention about that was the fact that you started in the Spring. That intrigued me to no end! “And really, that’s where all the really interesting things begin, with you, isn’t it? By the time you got to school, you were already on the road to being the loser you’ve become today.” I literally wanted to kill her at that moment. “You were such a good boy. ‘B’ average in high school, no arrest record, no tickets even. In fact the only trouble you’ve ever seemed to find yourself in was that unfortunate little altercation just before you were supposed to graduate.” I turned away and stared at the carpet, my heart was beating in my chest like a jackhammer and a nausea settling over my stomach. “Frankly, I was shocked to learn that such a terrible thing could ever happen in such a quiet little suburban community! Four men with baseball bats beating the living daylights out of one poor, defenseless high school senior, for no apparent reason! Just awful!” She grinned. “But what surprised me even more was just how completely the Sheriff, Sheriff Green, back then, wasn’t it? How he seems to have done so very little to solve such a disturbing crime, particularly when you were such good friends with his son!” Her voice was mocking, taunting, pushing me. Camille had been right: just thinking about those events the pain returned anew and clawed at my soul and left me feeling broken and guilty all over again. I wondered, fearfully, just how much Hain really knew. “You were good friends with his son, weren’t you? I mean, the two of you were on the varsity basketball team together.” I grit my teeth and stayed silent. “I wasn’t living here at the time, but from what I can tell, it was quite a year for you boys. You won the city tournament and your school was going to State for the first time in your history. Apparently the whole community went apeshit over it. “Myself, I don’t care for sports. I’d much rather watch young men play with their own balls than some sorry substitute. The drama of homoerotic combat is so much better when it’s taken pure. “But they sure loved you boys, didn’t they? You could have almost gotten away with murder, if you’d wanted to!” I looked up in shock, the pit of my stomach falling out. Her expression was unreadable. “It’s such a pity you boys lost in the first round. But - I’ve misspoken, haven’t I? You didn’t lose, because you weren’t there. For some strange reason you quit the team just after winning the City Tourney.” She studied my face, but I was determined to give her nothing more than what she had. “And then, of course, the night after the team lost, you suffered that terrible attack while taking out the garbage. “As I said, it was a most interesting read.” “Are you this thorough with all of Camille’s boyfriends?” I growled. “Only the ones she’s in love with.” That snapped my attention right back to the present. “She told you that?” I asked, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t really come out and said the words to me the other day. The thought of her confiding in that... monster... hurt. “Don’t be silly! Of course not!” “Then...” “Haven’t you figured out by now that what Camille doesn’t say is always more telling than what she does? In your case, the deceitful little bitch didn’t say a damn word to me about you. Which means she didn’t want me finding out about you, which means she must care for you very much, indeed.” She flashed me that grin that turned my stomach. “And I’m ever so grateful to you for barging in and fucking up her little ploy. She might have actually gotten away with it if you hadn’t.” Whatever guilt I had felt before now quadrupled itself and seemed to take up residence square inside my churning gut. “In fact, I’m so grateful, that I’ve decided to call us even on that pitiful little display of machismo you pulled yesterday!” “Terrific,” I groaned. “Of course, even with the slate clean on that score, there are still any number of instances of rudeness and lapses in courtesy on your part that poor Camille will have to answer for. I felt the heat return to me and I had to choke back a “discourteous” exclamation. “Why her?” I finally managed to say through my rage. “Because I expect her to be accountable for the company she keeps, Jordan.” “That’s not fair!” “Oh, I’m sorry! Did life suddenly become fair and nobody bothered to tell me?” I couldn’t meet her pitiless gaze any longer. I stared at my shoes as a frosty silence descended upon the room. She had talked so much, had seemed so enamored of the sound of her own voice, that the sudden quiet was unnerving. I looked back up at her and saw her leveling an almost predatory gaze upon me. she seemed on the edge of her seat with anticipation. Suddenly, the whole thing made sense. I swallowed hard and ducked my eyes away. Still, she broke the standoff first. “I know what you want to say, Jordan.” “Then why are you waiting for me to say it?” “Because I want to hear it. I want to hear you say it. Surely, if you love her, it can’t be that hard a choice.” But it was. I could feel myself begin to shake a little. Tears began to flow unbidden down my cheeks. I thought of Camille lying in that awful puddle of bruised human flesh. “Punish me,” I said softly. “Good.... good....” she cackled. “Beg me, Jordan.” My head snapped up and I looked into those hard, soulless sapphires. “Beg me, and this time, say ‘hurt’ instead of ‘punish!’ “ My breathing was becoming increasingly labored. My blood pressure was off the charts. “I bet sweet little Camille’s caboose looked like a rotten banana this morning, didn’t it?” she chuckled. “Please,” I said, my voice cracking under the strain. “Please hurt me.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “Why of course, Darling,” she cooed. “I’m just a girl who can’t say ‘no!’” All the energy left my body. I felt my shoulders sag and my posture droop. Hain reached over and punched a button on her phone. “Melissa, Darling, could you come in here?” My head shot up, blood drained from my face. “What?” “Right away, Ms. Hain,” chirped the mildly distorted voice at the other end. A second later I watched, horrified, as the sweet young girl with the red bow in her hair entered the office and promptly walked up to the desk and fell to her knees. Hain just laughed at me. “Don’t be fooled by the names on the door outside, Darling! I own this fucking firm, don’t I Melissa?” “Yes, Mistress,” the girl replied smoothly. “Now, Jordan, Darling, be a love and take of your clothes.” I blushed down to my roots. My mouth dried up. I noticed that despite the submissive bow of her head, Melissa was eyeing me every bit as hungrily as her mistress was. Hands trembling, I began to unbutton my shirt. Piece by piece, I stripped for them in a hesitant, mechanical fashion. They were like a pair of statures, still and silent up until I shed my pants. My traitorous cock poked long and stiff against the cotton of my briefs. I found myself with no place to look. Hain was in front of me, Melissa to my right. To my left the bleached white jaws gaped with unthinking hunger; and if I looked down, I had to confront my own hard prick. Tilting my head back to stare miserably at the ceiling, I hooked my thumbs in the elastic, and shed my briefs. “Impressive,” Hain cooed softly. “What do you think Melissa? Bigger than Stanley’s but not quite as big as Kenneth’s, wouldn’t you say?” “Oh, yes, Mistress!” I felt mortified as they bandied about the names of colors as they tried to describe my shading. They discussed the size of my balls and how low they hung in relation to other men’s. But it occurred to me that if a little humiliation was the worst I endured, I could probably count myself lucky. Just then Hain stood up and walked around the desk. “So tell me Melissa, what shall we do with our newest toy?” “Use the bitchmaker on him!” Melissa called out excitedly. Hain cocked an eyebrow and sounded genuinely surprised. “My goodness, you’re an aggressive little thing today, aren’t you my dear?” “Yes Mistress!” the girl admitted. Hain sighed. “Well, as much as I’d love to bend this macho fuck over my desk and rip out his colon, I’m afraid Camille would never forgive me for popping his cherry!” Despite being completely naked, I was still very much tempted to bolt for the door. Almost as if she could sense it, she made a motion to Melissa, who crawled around on her knees and moved directly behind me. I flinched as I felt her warm, soft hands reach up and grip the backs of my thighs. “No,” Hain mused, “I think a much simpler lesson is in order for today.” I gasped aloud as she slipped her hand between my legs and took hold of my balls. “Still a little sore from yesterday?” she asked tauntingly, and then began to squeeze. “Oh God!” I moaned as she tightened her grip slowly and relentlessly. Behind me, Melissa held me firm, despite my shaky legs. My breathing became ragged. I started to weep openly. Hain continued to stare into my face with all the emotion of one of her beloved sharks. And still her grip tightened, plunging me deeper and deeper into pain with every passing second. Melissa grunted as she found herself having to prop me up as my knees weakened. “I think maybe I should give you to Melissa,” Hain said thoughtfully. “Under all those ribbons and bows she’s really quite a sadistic bitch and I know she’s been just dying for a nice piece of meat to sink her teeth into.” “Would you like that, Melissa, darling?” “Oh, yes, Mistress!” came the call from behind me, along with the sudden sensation of her hot, moist tongue sliding along the crack of my ass. “Not today, though,” Hain mused. “Awwww!” My testicles were in a vice of iron, I didn’t know how much more they - or I - could take. And her grip tightened slowly. “You want me to stop, Jordan? You want me to let you go? Just say so, Darling. After all, what is Camille to you, really? Just another warm hole to shove your dick into. The world’s full of stupid little skanks like her. I’m sure you could be happily humping away with someone new in no time!” I cried out form the pain and began to sink as Melissa’s strength faltered. As before, Hain followed me all the way down. By the time I hit the floor I was blubbering like a baby. My entire world was clenched in her fist. And just like that, it was over. Actually, the worst pain of all came when she released me and the blood rushed back. I doubled over and flopped sideways on the floor, howling in agony. At the same time, she held out her hand to Melissa, who’d gotten out of the way when my fall seemed inevitable, and said, “Clean.” Melissa scurried over on her knees and began lapping away at it like a well trained dog. I noticed her ass was even waggling in lieu of a tail. I felt like throwing up. “Well, Darlings,” Hain announced. “As lovely as it’s been, we all do have our lives to get back to! I have to go make sure the wheels of Justice turn and Melissa has phones to answer, and of course you, my dear, must get back to mopping up baby vomit in aisle seven-C, mustn’t you?” I thought that was it. I heard footsteps leave the office and I started to crawl towards my clothes. Hain put the spike of her heel down on top of my outstretched hand and ground it as I screamed in pain. “But I will be seeing you again soon, Darling. Sooner thank you think!” Laughing wickedly, she pulled her foot away and walked out the door. And the worst of it was I knew I’d have to scrape myself off the floor and somehow go back to work. And then, I’d have to tell Camille.