The Slow Seduction of Claire McDonald

Chapter 2

“No! I’m fine, honestly. Between you and Kendra you seem to have amazing self-control…I’m so happy that she makes me feel as safe as you do. The marks will fade soon.”

I sipped my ice tea.

“Is Kendra a ‘she’?” I asked. “I must say I’m pretty confused by it. Are transvestites counted as women?”

She laughed. “Kendra’s a pre-op transsexual – I’m getting quite familiar with the jargon. And yes, she prefers to be considered as a woman. She stopped being ‘Kenny’ a while ago.”

“You’re going to see…her…again, I assume?”

She nodded. “We got together for lunch yesterday, and we’re going to meet for dinner again Saturday. I know it’s early days, but she seems nice – she’s an artist; did she tell you? She funding her art by working in the club.”

“Yes…but I could have guessed she’d be creative,” I mused. “Those tattoos were…impressive.”

“Aren’t they lovely?” she said eagerly. “She designed those wings on her back herself. They’re so beautiful – so ironic too.”

“A fallen angel?” I chuckled.

“That would certainly describe the both of us!”

“All three of us?”

I put down my glass and put both arms around her now. I’d psyched myself up to leaving her when we said our goodbyes the other day…but it was just so wonderful to be with her again. She smelled of honey and oranges – it was the shampoo she preferred at the moment and I loved the fragrance. She seemed so timid and vulnerable now – a huge change from the hard-ass Rebecca I grew up knowing. I knew this was a side of her that she only showed to me since I’d started training her. I was quite sure she was still the classic Type A sales woman in her other life.

“I’m going to miss you,” I whispered.

She tilted up her head and kissed me.

“You know it wasn’t just the s*x, Anthony,” she said softly. “Or the domination! I…I feel…”

“Rebecca – we talked about this,” I told her gently. “Three thousand miles between us! That’s quite a commute for a long distance relationship.”

“And you’re very gallant for not mentioning our age difference.”

“Honestly – that doesn’t matter to me,” I told her. “You showed me a level of intensity to a relationship that I never thought was possible. But is it love? I really don’t think so. I’m sorry if that’s what you think it is.”

“I wish it could be that way for both of us…but you’re right – you’d be foolish to let it get that far anyway.” She paused, and kissed me again. “Such a pity though.”

This time I took her in a full embrace. I was careful not to squeeze her too much – I knew the single tail whip that Kendra had used on her back the other night had probably hurt almost as much as the electric torture. It would be wonderful to see those marks again.

“One last goodbye?” she asked, softly.

“Yes…but not here,” I told her. “Mom and Dad said they’d be back in an hour or so, and I don’t want to rush making love to you.”

“That’s a rather interesting thought!” she chuckled. “There’s a motel over by the Interstate. It’s nice – better than it looks from the outside. We can be there in ten minutes.”

I pulled back and smiled at her.

“You know it well then?”

She blushed. “I’ve been there a couple of times, yes.”

I had a feeling about why Rebecca would know the motel – the things she’d told me under interrogation at the cabin had been…quite a revelation.

“How about just straight love-making?” I asked. “I think your body’s taken enough punishment for a while. And you need to give me Kendra’s email address – I want to give her some ideas for continuing your training before you come over to visit me in London.”

Her eyes glinted. “Really?” she asked. “You’d do that?”

“I’d love to do that – you know I get a kick out that sort of thing – the mind f**k! I’ll plot some really devious, horrible mental torture for you, Rebecca – don’t worry!”

We just held each other for several seconds. For my part I was just lost in the notion that this might be the last time I’d have a chance to be with this amazing woman.

“You’re such a wonderful lover, Anthony!” Rebecca sighed. “So…energetic. You really are going to be hard to replace.”

“You know I feel the same way about you, Rebecca,” I told her. “All the years I’ve pictured you in my fantasies – and yet the reality of making love to you was so much better.”

She smiled and rested her head in my chest; and that’s when we heard a discrete cough from the doorway.

“So…you’re the mysterious girlfriend, are you, Becky?” my mom asked coldly.

Rebecca acted like she’d taken another stroke from the whip.

“Ellie – oh my God!” Rebecca gasped.

“Mom…I…I didn’t expect you back…”

“Evidently!” Mom said archly. “Your dad’s still drinking beer with Bob – since he’s too drunk to drive he sent me to tell you that the deal closed for eight point three – you didn’t answer the house phone when we called.”

“I didn’t even hear it…Jesus! Over eight million?” I gasped.

“You need to call Harry to make sure you sign the papers before we leave. Dad says it’s important, Anthony. Until everyone signs they could still change their minds.”

I staggered back against the kitchen unit. Eight million dollars! I’d written a series of algorithms for Internet search, and started to patent some of them a couple of years earlier. Two big companies had challenged one of the patents, and at first it looked like it might cost us a fortune to sort it out in the courts. But what Dad had just told me – via Mom – was that they’d offered to settle! And would pay me – or rather my company – over eight million dollars! Holy s**t! Of course, I wouldn’t get most of it. Harry would get his ten per cent – and I was determined to split whatever I got with my parents. And the government would want taxes, of course. Even so…maybe it wouldn’t mean a tiny student hovel in London after all!

“You and I need to talk, Becky!” Mom told Rebecca sharply. “Now!”

“Wait!” I said. “Mom…Rebecca and I are going out after I call Harry to make an appointment. And before you lay into her, remember I’m old enough to make my own decisions now; and I was the one who drove this relationship. So if you like you can scream at me for the three hours we’ll be stuck waiting at the airport tomorrow. Right now, today, I’m calling Harry and then I’m leaving with Rebecca.”

I gave Rebecca’s hand a squeeze and walked through to the den. My cellphone contract had ended a few days earlier so I’d have to use the landline. I could already hear raised voices in the kitchen – Mom and Rebecca had been friends for years…as long as I could remember. s**t…I’d helped to ruin that! I’d make it my business to explain it to Mom and try to patch things up, but this was the last chance Rebecca and I would have to be together – maybe for a long time; and I wasn’t going to waste it…not one second of it.

On the phone I arranged to see Harry later that afternoon – Rebecca could drop me off at his office on the way back from…from the motel. Eight million dollars! Holy s**t. I’d treat my folks to an upgrade to business class – the airlines often had pretty good deals at the check-in gate for that.

When I walked out of the den I found mom alone in the kitchen. She was crying.

“Mom…”

“Anthony – how could you!” she gasped. “She’s old enough to be…”

“My mother?” I asked. “That’s a pretty out-dated notion these days, isn’t it?”

“It’s a matter of trust, Anthony! Jesus Christ, she’s one of my closest friends! Or I thought she was.”

“Mom, I’m twenty three years old – nearly twenty four. I’m old enough to make decisions like that for myself; and let’s remember it’s not like I was a virgin! We’re not hurting anybody – and now I have to leave her to fly three thousand miles away. I want to go and comfort her, and say goodbye in a nice way. Let me do that, won’t you?”

“Comfort her?” Mom spat. “Is that what you call it? Dear God; I just realized it must have been you in her apartment the other day when I visited! And were you with her at the cabin too? Is that where you disappeared to for two weeks? And now you’re going to…to have s*x with her again!”

“Yes, I probably will; unless she’s too upset. But if I was dating a girl of my own age I’d have s*x with her now, wouldn’t I? I understand you feel betrayed – by both of us; and I’m truly sorry you had to find out like this. But it was just a last vacation fling, mom – two adults having a good time.”

She was facing away from me now, shoulders hunched in tension. I touched her arm, and she recoiled.

“Go!” she sobbed. “She’s in the car waiting for you.”

“Please tell Dad I have a meeting with Uncle Harry at five. I’ll catch the bus back…and mom – I don’t think Dad needs to know about this, do you?”

“Anthony – right now I seriously advise you not to push your luck! Please just go!”

Rebecca was crying too. She had her sunglasses on, but I couldn’t help notice a clear, red hand mark on her right cheek – and Mom was left handed. It looked like she’d given Rebecca a pretty good slap. Part of me wondered if Rebecca had enjoyed it. I’d never dared to slap her that hard in the cabin – Mom must have been pretty mad!

I offered to drive us, and she accepted. It was only ten minutes in the car to the motel, so I tried to stay quiet and allow Rebecca to cry. I’d comfort her when we were in the room. I’d promise her that I’d patch things up with Mom – it would be a tragedy for them to lose the friendship they’d built up over the years over this.

Of course Mom was angry – she’d feel betrayed that her best friend – and her former lover – was now screwing her son. Yes…Rebecca’s s*x life was certainly pretty interesting!

London, January 20th 2011

It was such a clichéd way to meet – our eyes meeting across a crowded bar. Well, it wasn’t that crowded; the student bar at Imperial College in London was pretty quiet with it being a Thursday night. I’d just beaten a couple of my English pals at pool and was spending my winnings on a pint of warm English beer. But actually that was a myth – Brits drinking their beer at room temperature was one of the first misconceptions that I cleared up when our family moved here last August. I could have asked for a lager – ice cold beer that was pretty similar to the gassy water we call beer in the States; but the local bitters here were actually worth trying, and these student bars usually did a pretty good job of keeping them. They served them at “cellar temperature” – cold, but not ice cold.

There was something about that particular girl across the room. She wasn’t conventionally pretty – but she had a striking, intelligent looking face. Her piercing blue eyes looked at me from behind fashionable glasses and she had the cutest turned up nose. Her mousey blonde hair was cut in a messy, shoulder length style that really didn’t do her any favours. But apart from her quite astonishing eyes there were two things that really caught my attention about her. First, was her mouth – her lips were full, and pouting; it was a mouth that was born to kiss – and do many other wonderful things for a man, I was sure.

The second thing was that, as I smiled at her, she actually turned to look behind her – like I couldn’t possibly be interested in a girl like her and I must be smiling at somebody else. But I nodded slowly, smiling more widely and she surprised me again. She blushed in a way that I didn’t think possible for a girl these days. Maybe girls from my native New Jersey had nothing to blush about – but this girl was embarrassed; and couldn’t help showing it. Was she blushing because I smiled at her – or because she’d been caught turning around like that? Either way one of her friends had drawn her back into their animated conversation and she’d broken eye contact with me now.

She was sitting with a group of a dozen or so people – mostly girls too. Only two guys, I noticed. One of them was an obvious loser – overweight and spotty – I don’t think I’d even seen him speak yet. The other guy was older – maybe forty. He had long hair in a kind of retro hippy style; with an unkempt beard that jutted out as he delivered points to his audience – he seemed to be some kind of self-appointed discussion leader

Terry – one of the guys I played pool with – had told me this was one of those reborn Christian groups, and that they met a couple of times a week in one of the rooms here. He’d claimed that the girls were mostly frumpy types – pretty girls would have better things to do of an evening, Terry had commented. But they seemed like a reasonably normal cross section of female human beings to me. Except for this girl…she was something very special indeed.