Amber Stigmatized

by Viktor Redreich

  “That was weird,” she said to herself. She shrugged a little. She didn’t have time to waste on wondering what was wrong with bald, pudgy old men driving cars that were too good for them.

  Amber stepped off the sidewalk onto the edge of the road. She looked primly left, then right, and then crossed the street. Her feet ached from doing so much walking in high heels, especially since she’d never worn heels so tall before. She forgot all about the pain as she stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of Daddy’s building. Her stomach filled with a buzzing drone, like she’d swallowed a beehive. The buzzing flowed through her veins, vibrated her head.

  Her heels clicked all the way up the wide walkway. She pushed her way through the revolving doors and spilled out into a wide lobby of the sort that might be found at a hotel. Once, when she was 15, her mother’s boyfriend had taken the two of them along when he went on a business trip. His company had paid for him to stay at a fancy hotel and the lobby was like this, brightly-lit by chandelier fixtures, the polished floor gleaming their reflections in a way that was almost blinding. Angular couches and low-backed armchairs rimmed the walls, accompanied by glass-topped coffee tables.

  A few men and women in expensive attire lounged at the couches, talking in low voices. They didn’t acknowledge Amber.

  At the far end of the lobby was a security guard in a black uniform. He looked bored, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

  Amber stepped deeper into the lobby, into warmth and a faint acidic odor of fancy perfume. The guard flicked a glance at her, peering over the top of his magazine. Amber smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t get up and ask her why she was there. The guard lifted one thick eyebrow and then let it drop. He went back to his magazine, flipping and flipping. The sound of the slick pages rattled in her ears, too clear. Her nervousness heightened her senses.

  Amber hurried over to the elevator and pushed the button. The doors popped open with a soft chime. She jumped in and turned back around as the doors were closing. Everyone in the lobby stared at her through the diminishing gap, even the people who had been so caught up in their own conversations they hadn’t so much as looked at her before.

  And then the doors shut and she was mercifully alone, out of sight.

  Amber pushed the button for the 21st floor. The elevator hummed and shivered a bit. She wouldn’t have known it was moving at all if not for the counter over the buttons ticking ever upward. A great breath burst from her, once she hadn’t been aware she was holding. She sagged back against the wall. Mirrors on either side of her reflected her actions. She tilted her head and checked herself out. She wore a black dress that barely covered her butt, very sexy. A white bow around her neck draped its tails over her boobies.

  Daddy had sent her the dress, along with the shoes and the underwear underneath, a pair of little panties and a bra that didn’t really cover much. Or provide much support. When she walked, she felt her bosom bouncing. He’d also given her a pair of dangly silver earrings and a silver choker necklace, and a makeup kit, and a bottle of perfume, which he’d told her to wear when she came to meet him. It had a very light scent that reminded her of apples, freshly sliced.

  He’d sent her all of those things over the course of a few weeks. He’d even paid for her to get her hair done, not that anyone could see that because she’d hidden it under a scarf as per usual.

  Maybe the way I look is what made that guard look skeptical, she thought. And why that man in the car didn’t like it when I smiled at him. Do I look like… a tramp?

  A tramp. A prostitute.

  Amber blushed and hid her face in her hands. She was on her way to meet Daddy. She wasn’t one of those kinds of women. She really hoped that wasn’t what people thought of her.

  The elevator reached the right floor and she stepped out into an elegant hallway, wide and clean and smelling faintly of cinnamon. She wobbled her way to the door of his condo. A bell to the side of the door beckoned to be rang. Amber reached for it but stopped herself just before pressing down, her fingertip laying on the slick button. In addition to providing her with all of the nice things she wore, Daddy had given her very strict instructions on how their first meeting was to go. She was to obey everything he said right down to the letter.

  Amber reached for the only thing she had on her that Daddy hadn’t given her, a little clutch purse with a gold chain strap. It looked more expensive than it was. It was a going-away gift for her from her mom when she went off to college. So far, she hadn’t had any use for such a tiny purse.

  She undid the latch at the top and pulled out her phone, which just about took up all the space in the purse. She checked the time. She was two minutes early. Daddy wanted her at 7 p.m. precisely.

  I’ll wait a little bit.

  She bounced her leg nervously and almost fell over after landing wrong on the stiletto of her heel. She caught herself against the wall, her palm slapping down a mere inch from the bell. She froze in horror. If she messed up, she’d be making pointless all those times she’d daydreamed this moment.

  Panic swept in over her. So many things could ruin this. She really didn’t have any idea what awaited her on the other side of that door. The same doubts as always crowded her mind. The man she’d been waiting so long to meet could be 70 years old. He could be fat and sloppy. But she’d seen his shoes, some of his environment. He didn’t seem sloppy, unless he had deliberately tricked her.

  Even worse than old or fat, he could be a killer or a gangster about to lure her into something really bad.

  She suddenly wished she’d worn a watch instead of bringing her phone, so she could have put some sort of protection in her purse. Pepper spray. But she didn’t own pepper spray. But geez, even a butter knife was better than nothing. If only she’d had the forethought to go to a dollar store and pick one up for a few bucks.

  If only she’d done a lot of things.

  It really hit her, standing there outside the condo door, how vulnerable she was.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw the time change on her phone. If she was going to do this, she needed to do it now.

  Amber took a deep breath and smoothed her hands over her dress. This was it. She could stop wondering now if only she went inside.

  She extended her thumb and depressed the bell. A soft chime went off on the other side of the wall. Her heart thundered. She pushed her fingers hard against the wall, until her fingertips went white and pain sparked down their length, trying to keep the faintness at bay.

  “Come in,” a voice called. It was the voice of a man, deep and rich. It was Daddy’s voice, exactly as she had always imagined it. Maybe that was why it seemed strangely familiar, somehow.

  Amber grabbed the door handle and pushed down. The door swung open, inviting her inside, into the dark room beyond. She entered.

  She had an immediate impression of being inside a cave, a sense of openness, though it was so dark she couldn’t really see how big of a room it was she was in. A table lamp provided the only light in the whole room, aside from the soft glitter of city lights filtering in from a window at the back. The lamp illuminated a glass of liquor, and a smoldering cigar leaning on the edge of a brass ashtray.

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she became aware of a man sitting on a single-seater sofa next to the table. His silhouette, outlined in pale yellow, seemed tall and trim. He wore a suit.

  Though shadows obscured his face and most details of his person, he was clearly handsome and classy. Just like she imagined.

  Hope and excitement swelled in her chest. She struggled to remember what she was supposed to do next. Something about meters.

  A light came on in her mind. She was to stand three meters in front of him. Three meters was ten feet. Amber strode forward over the darkened carpet until she had reached a spot she thought was right, or close enough. She turned back to face the shadowy silhouette of her Daddy, her palms clammy from anticipation.

  He moved, reached behind the thick ashtray. There was a cl
ick, like that of a button being pressed. A light sprang on over her head, like a spotlight. Music began to play, a deep thrumming beat that seemed to make her whole body pulsate.

  She knew what to do. This, too, was something she had been told to do and she had practiced so much just to get it right.

  It was time to show off for Daddy, show him what he had been waiting for all this time.

  Amber swayed her hips in time to the beat of the music. She started to move the rest of her body, her boobies rocking back and forth under her dress. She pressed her hands to her thighs and slid them up her body to her lips, lifting the hem of her little dress a little as she went.

  Daddy shifted in his seat, leaning forward to watch her.

  She gasped with excitement, basking in his attention. Her hands skimmed up her waist to her bosom. She grabbed a boobie in each hand and squeezed them, massaging them for his viewing pleasure. A deep tingling started inside her, between her legs.

  Daddy lifted his hand, made a lowering motion with his finger.

  Amber let go of her boobies and reached behind herself, fumbling around with her fingers for the zipper on the back of her dress. She found it and grabbed it and pulled it down, peeling it off and letting it drop around her feet. Stepping out of it, she moved one, two, three steps closer to him. Only two meters now, close enough to see a tantalizing bit more of his face, the angle of his jaw and the straight bridge of his nose. His eyes were hidden by the shadows, but she could feel them trained on her body as she stood there in only her powder-pink panties and bra.

  She could feel her nipples poking out hard, visible from under her bra. She couldn’t wait any longer to be naked before him, to give him a good view of what she’d tried to convey by sending him pictures. She undid the clasps on her bra, let it drop away to the floor. Her hands running up and down her body pushed her panties off her hips, then around her feet.

  Daddy cleared his throat and reached for his drink. His strong fingers curled around the glass. He took a sip, the shape of his throat bobbing.

  Amber waited, trembling, trying to ignore the growing wetness between her legs, until he was done with his drink. She walked to him the rest of the way until she stood right in front of him. She could have seen his face now, but a sudden nervousness overcame her. She just lowered her eyes and focused on what she was supposed to do next.

  Amber lifted her leg, balancing easily on the other thanks to her yoga practice. She put her foot on his knee, which brought her kitty right in front of his face. He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with her scent. She hoped he liked it. She’d put some of the perfume down there too, on her inner thighs.

  Daddy closed his eyes as if to savor her. She waited until he opened them again and then put her hand over her kitty, spreading her fingers, pushing her lips to the sides to give him a good look at all her inner folds. His warm breath caressed her swollen lips. She swallowed hard and pressed the tip of one finger inside herself, into her wetness, and dragged a slow line up to her clitty. Her clitty throbbed hard against her finger as she rubbed herself. She moaned a little, helplessly, her needy flower getting wetter and wetter.

  “That’s enough,” he said.

  Even though it felt so good, she made herself stop just for him.

  “On your knees.”

  Amber shuddered and dropped down onto her knees, his deep voice reverberating its way through her body. God, yes. This was what she’d needed for so long.

  But why did he sound so familiar? She wasn’t just hearing things. She really did recognize his voice, like she had heard it a long long time ago.

  Suddenly overcoming her nervousness, Amber looked up at his face.

  Shock struck her like a lightning bolt and she flopped back, her butt landing on her heels. “Oh, my gosh! Kristoff!”

  Chapter 8

  Muddy puddles

  The shadows outside the pool of light cast by the table lamp swirled in, turning her world gray. She couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything outside of the shadow that had taken over her, except for a sensation like movement.

  Amber closed her eyes, not knowing what else to do. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything except float in the gray.

  Some time must have passed and something must have changed, making her aware once again of her surroundings. Sensations filtered in bit by bit, warmth and a softness like blankets. A bitter taste on her tongue. A sweet scent of fabric softener, and something masculine that reminded her of when she hugged Lawrence, when she had worn his jacket.

  “Lawrence?” she whispered, and opened her eyes.

  “What was that?” a deep voice asked.

  She started, brought fully back to reality by Kristoff’s voice. Everything flooded back to her. She remembered the shock of seeing him, the lightheadedness that swept over her. She had fainted.

  She wasn’t where she had been before fainting, however. She lay on one side of a huge bed in a rather large and sparse, yet comfortable bedroom, with a massive television on one wall and a window at another. The window showed the park she’d walked past before, the greenery reduced to shapes and shadows, smudges and swathes of cobweb gray, except for the stream, which glittered silver with reflected light.

  Kristoff lay on the bed beside her, stroking her hair.

  Amber jerked away from him and grabbed the blankets, pulling them up higher to try and cover herself. A wormy feeling squirmed through her, like she was an apple that had been invaded, violated. Kristoff. She’d almost done things with Kristoff!

  Kristoff watched her, his eyes hooded and sorrowful.

  Amber stared back at him, her hands fisted in the covers, holding them over her boobies. The wormy feeling faded as quickly as it had come, chased away by the look on his face. Of course she had almost done things with him. She loved him.

  She had loved him twice, now.

  First he was the father she never had and then he was the Daddy who completed her.

  Her heart melted. A soft whimper pulled from between her lips. She loved him, but she was so confused about everything. If Daddy had been Kristoff all along, why, oh why, had he hidden himself from her so they had to meet like this? It was so confusing. She wanted to be angry with him because he had made her wait so very long, but she also wanted to kiss him and hug him and finish what she’d come here to do.

  “I’m sorry,” Kristoff said, his voice low. “I thought it would surprise you, but I didn’t know it would upset you so much.”

  Amber licked her dry lips, uncertain of what to say now that she had the chance. “I fainted,” was all she could come up with.

  Was that amusement in his eyes, the lightest of glimmers of humor? “You did. I caught you before you hit your head. Do you feel okay?”

  Amber nodded. She kept the covers pulled up over her bosom. “I’m okay.”

  “Good,” he said, sighing with relief. “You said something when you woke up. I didn’t catch it.”

  Amber shook her head. Probably wasn’t the best idea to bring up Lawrence right about now.

  Kristoff nodded, frowned. “Can I get you anything? Some water?”

  Water would have been lovely. However, when she opened her mouth to confirm her request, the words that came out had nothing to do with a drink. “I’m so confused! Kristoff… Daddy?”

  He winced when she used his real name, but she was so tangled up inside, she didn’t know which one was right. “I’m so sorry, Amber. I know it must be confusing. It’s been confusing for me, as well.”

  Kristoff reached for her. Amber watched his hand approach her and tensed, not knowing what to expect anymore. He paused, then picked up her hand and held it in his. His hand was so much bigger than hers, his fingers so thick and strong. Her erratic heartbeat smoothed out. She clutched at him, grasping for his strength, letting his presence comfort her, like it used to when she was a little girl.

  “I can tell you one thing you can be certain of. I love you,” he said. He brought her knuckles to his l
ips and pressed the softest of kisses to each one. “I won’t ever hurt you.”

  She understood and trusted him. She nodded, her gaze glued to his lips as he kissed her small hand.

  “I’ll tell you everything,” Kristoff said. “That’s assuming you want to know?”

  “Of course I want to know!” she cried.

  That glimmer of amusement returned. “You always were so enthusiastic. I used to love how you put everything you had into all you did. I still do love that about you. In some ways, you haven’t changed at all.”

  She smiled a little, loving to hear herself be talked about so nicely.

  Kristoff shifted on the bed, propping himself up on one arm and looking down at her. “I knew who you were when I contacted you a year ago, teacup. But believe me, that wasn’t the first time I wanted to reach out to you. Ever since we had to part ways, you’ve always been on my mind in one form or another. I loved you so much. You made even the hardest days worth it, because I knew I could come home and you would be so excited to see me. Your mother, too, but in some ways, it was mostly you. You, running to me, making things for me, always doting upon me the way I doted upon you. I was just as sad to leave you as I was to leave your mother. If only I could have brought the two of you with me. But it wasn’t feasible, no matter how hard I tried to find a way.”

  Amber touched his cheek, her heart aching as much as it had on that fateful day. “It’s okay. I know you tried very hard.”

  He put his hand over hers, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “This is what I’m talking about. You have always had so much room in your heart. I wanted to get in touch with you long before now, but I felt it would be inappropriate because of your age. Maybe if we were related…But then again, maybe not. I was afraid of what it would look like.”

  So Lawrence was right about that part.