Raising Lucy

by Becca Jameson

  I smile. “I’ll be good, Sir. I promise.” My panties are wet now, of course. It’s going to take me a while to get my heart rate down before I can resume working.

  “Good girl.” He swats my bottom and turns to leave.

  I step into his office and watch him exit the room with sure steps, his height and size and broad shoulders making me drool. I’ll never get enough of him. I haven’t said the words yet, but I love him so much.

  There’s something else I haven’t said to him yet. I’m holding back. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I think it has to do with him letting me the rest of the way in. Into his bed and his room and his private space. I need that.

  I know I need to ask for what I want, but I don’t want to rock the boat right now when things are going so well. I’ll wait until after I take the SATs. After we’ve hashed out my desire to go to school on campus. After he finds out I crave those hours each day in public with adult clothes on.

  I know it will hurt him. I know he wants to keep me locked up in his mansion for the rest of my life, his special little girl. And I love being his. I love how he cherishes me. I love how he dotes on me and how connected we are and how in tune we are with each other and how our needs mesh and how I can be myself with him and how he thrives on my age play. I love all of that. But I want more.

  The question is, can Master negotiate something we can both live with? I’m afraid he will see my independence as me pulling away from him. He’ll worry I might leave him. He’ll fret all the time that I might meet someone else.

  But that doesn’t change the fact that I have to confront him and voice my desires.

  Later, I remind myself. After the SATs. After all, if my scores aren’t good enough to get into the university, our probable disagreement would have been for naught.

  Chapter 48

  Lucy

  * * *

  After grabbing the pile of folders off Master Roman’s desk, I settle at my own desk and take several deep breaths to chase my arousal and my middle role to the back of my mind. I’ve gotten good at compartmentalizing. I’m a pro. Most of the time.

  I realize the top few files in the pile I’ve picked up actually belong in Master Roman’s desk. He’s never had me deal with his personal files, but I recognize them because the tabs are blue instead of red.

  I rise from my desk and head back to his office. He wouldn’t have included the additional folders if he hadn’t intended for me to file them. When I open the deep drawer on his desk, I realize I’m going to need to familiarize myself with the system he’s using here. I scan the files to figure out if they are alphabetical or organized in another way.

  Suddenly, the tab on one of the files catches my attention.

  Lucy Neill. Private.

  I stare at it for a moment, wondering why he has a file on me. After a second, I chase away my concerns. It’s probably medical records from my visit to the doctor. My school transcripts he’s requested so I can apply for college. Stuff like that.

  Curiosity eats at me though, urging me to see what information he’s got on me.

  Against my better judgment, I pull the folder from the drawer and open it. It’s thicker than I thought. The page on top is a handwritten note. It says,

  Roman,

  I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re messing with a woman’s life.

  Nevertheless, this is what the PI has been able to find on Lucy Neill. Her past is clean as a whistle. No prior arrests or even a traffic ticket. She doesn’t even have a driver’s license. No living relatives. Her last residence was with a maternal grandmother in Chicago. She died a year ago.

  Be careful. You’re playing with fire on this one. That girl is sweet and innocent. I hope you know what you’re doing before you mold her to fit your expectations. If you hurt her, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

  Julius

  I can’t breathe. My legs are shaking so badly that I have to back up and sit down before I fall. I set the folder on the desk and move the note to the side so I can see what else is in this folder. I no longer feel any remorse or hesitation. I shuffle quickly through the pages.

  My life. Everything. Every detail.

  My childhood home and address and school.

  My grandmother’s information. My grandmother is dead? I didn’t even know that. Apparently Master Roman did. Fuck him.

  My medical records going back for years. Medications. Copies of receipts. Every personal detail about me.

  When I get to the piles of pictures of the inside of my apartment, my throat drops. I’m going to be sick. He was in my apartment. He went through my belongings. He stole information from me.

  There are details about Martin and Sons. My vision swims when I realize he paid them to fire me. There are detailed notes about his conversations with them. He’s even included a receipt showing how much he bought me out for. Why would he do that?

  Duh, to make it so I was in need of a job and would apply to work for him.

  My God. He had me fired. I try to process that detail.

  He manipulated me into accepting a job with him and took over my life and moved me into his home and dressed me up the way he wanted me and touched me. He fucked me. He put his cock inside me.

  I flip to the next page. A handwritten letter on notebook paper. Odd. I blink several times as I read it. It’s a letter to me from someone claiming to be my half brother. I’m shaking as I read it again. Where did this come from? When? What the fuck is happening here?

  I grab the folder and throw it across the room. The papers fly all over the place. I’ve never been so angry. So violated.

  I run from the room, down the hall, and up the back stairs. Before I enter my bedroom, I pause to listen. No one is up here. I can’t hear a sound. I think Nancy and Evelyn were going shopping. Weston might have taken them.

  I spin around, hell-bent on seeing the rest of this floor in Master Roman’s house. I run down the forbidden hallway and around a corner. There are two more wings. So many doors. I race down one, opening every door. Most are guest rooms. Bathrooms. Empty rooms even.

  Finally, I come to a set of double doors and know this room is Master Roman’s. I yank on the handle, stunned to find it unlocked.

  When I enter, I let my gaze roam all around the space first.

  It’s an ordinary bedroom. Was I expecting a dungeon or something?

  The bed is king-sized and four-posted. The comforter is a deep navy blue. The bed is made. Everything is in its place as if no one has ever set foot in the room. In fact, the carpet has been recently vacuumed.

  I scuff at it furiously with my toes, hating Roman—if that’s even his name—and everything about him. Fuck his perfect room. I turn toward his dresser and open it. Underwear in the top one. T-shirts next. Socks. White and then dark colors. I abandon the dresser to open his closet. It’s an enormous walk-in.

  No, it’s bigger than my bedroom. The left side is lined with suits and dress slacks separated by colors and shades. The right side stops me dead in my tracks. I can’t breathe.

  It’s my side.

  It’s filled with my clothes. The ones he dresses me in every day. All my pretty little-girl outfits. I can’t bring myself to touch them, but I wander down the row, realizing they are in order of age. The first ones are for newborns and they progress all the way up to my current age, twelve. Nothing beyond that.

  Some of them I’ve seen several times. Others I’ve never been presented with. The first few make me cringe. Onesies and footed pajamas. Baby mittens. Booties. All in my size.

  I turn from this shrine and rush toward his bathroom. It’s also pristine, like no one’s ever been in it. The bathtub makes me drool. It’s large enough to hold two people comfortably. They wouldn’t even have to touch. It has jets too.

  The shower is a walk-in. No doors. I’m jealous. No, I’m pissed. Why has he kept me on another wing all alone in a small little-girl room with a tub that doesn’t even have a shower?

&nb
sp; So many questions.

  I rummage through the drawers under the vanity. Two sinks. Empty drawers. Just one has his razor and toothbrush and a comb.

  Why?

  Why, why, why?

  I run out of this room. I need to get out of his house as fast as I can. Before anyone gets home. I run back to my designated wing, the only space I’m permitted to see. I enter the room I have loved for all these weeks and head straight for the closet. It’s locked. I yank on it. It won’t budge. Are my personal belongings in there?

  “Lucy?”

  I jump and spin around at the sound of Weston’s voice from a bit of a distance.

  “Lucy? Are you in your room?” He’s getting closer.

  I spin around. There is nothing in this room I can use to cover myself. I haven’t liked exposing myself to Weston ever. I’m way too pissed right now to confront him.

  I finally yank back the comforter and tug the sheet off the bed. I’m grateful that it’s white this week. I hug it to my chest and lunge for the bathroom, shutting myself inside and locking the door just as he knocks on my bedroom door.

  I’m gasping for breath. My heart is pounding. My ears are ringing. I’ve never been so angry in my life.

  On top of everything else, I’m kind of trapped here. I have nothing. I can’t just leave. I have no clothes. I would get picked up and put in a mental ward if anyone caught me wandering the streets in this outfit meant for a child.

  What was I thinking letting someone take over my life, move me into their home, cut me off from the world? I’m so stupid.

  “Lucy? Honey, what’s going on?” Weston sounds panicked. Has he already called Roman?

  I yank the pink fluffy towel off the rack and throw it down the chute. I don’t want to look at it. I don’t want to look at anything.

  I need to think. I need a plan. And fast.

  I wonder if Roman will keep me here against my will? Are all of his employees accomplices? Surely four people can’t hold a woman hostage and get away with it.

  Then again, I have no one. I have no family. No friends. No one. Not a single soul knows I even exist. Or maybe that isn’t even true. Maybe I have a half brother. I can’t even process that thought. I could die in this house and no one would ever look for my body. Is that why he picked me?

  I wrap the sheet around my shaking body and climb into the tub, curling up on one end, trying to think. My brain is rushing around. It’s a hurricane in there. I can’t think. I can’t catch my breath. I’m going to faint or vomit or have a stroke or a heart attack.

  I tuck my head between my knees and try to draw in oxygen.

  “Lucy, are you sick?”

  I ignore Weston. He’s the least of my concerns. He’s feeble enough that I could get by him without issue and escape. But that presumes no one else is home. He must have seen me on the monitors, running around upstairs like a crazy woman. Which I am.

  I close my eyes, trying to come up with a plan. Any plan.

  I have no money. No clothes.

  Everything I’ve believed to be true for weeks has been a lie. I can’t stop the tears that begin to fall.

  Was this all a game? A plot to find some petite young woman who looked like a girl and train her to be a little? Is Roman that devious? If he’s sick in the head, why do so many people go along with it?

  I stiffen at my next thought. How many women has he kept in this mansion? In this bedroom? Kept as his little girl?

  Tears run down my face. I trusted him. I turned my life over to him. I let him manipulate me into his pet project.

  I’m sobbing now. And I know that isn’t entirely true. I wanted this. I craved it. Did he see me in his club and figure out I was a good target? He could have. I spent a lot of time watching other people play. If he saw me watching littles with their Doms, he would have easily suspected I was fair prey.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. A wealthy businessman who owns a club surely doesn’t kidnap women and hold them against their will. It paralyzes me to think that way.

  I slide down into the tub in a fetal position, the sheet tight around my trembling body. I can’t come up with any viable options. Now that I’ve figured out what a con man Roman is, what will he do to me when he gets home?

  I don’t move. I can’t. I concentrate on breathing. It’s all I can do.

  Chapter 49

  Lucy

  * * *

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but I flinch when I hear Roman’s voice through the door. “Lucy? Blossom. Can you open the door?” His voice is high-pitched. Frantic. Good. Let him suffer. He’s destroyed me. He can go fuck himself.

  I hear other voices. I think one of them is Julius. The others are Nancy and Evelyn. They’re mumbling.

  “Lucy, at least answer me so I’ll know you’re okay.”

  “Fuck you,” I state loud enough for him to hear.

  There is no response.

  “Dude, I told you this would bite you in the ass. You wouldn’t listen.” Yep. That’s Julius. The accomplice. Does he always help his friends kidnap women?

  “Shut up, Julius. I need your help, not your criticism. Call Claudia.”

  “Sure. That’ll help.” I hear the sarcasm in Julius’s voice. Good. Fuck them both.

  “Lucy,” Roman says again. “Can we at least talk? Please. I fucked up. I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to explain.”

  At least he obviously knows what I’ve found.

  “Fuck you, Roman. What I need is some motherfucking adult clothes. Let me leave. That’s all I want.” My ID and credit card are in the drawer in the bathroom still.

  I hear his breath hitch even through the door. “Lucy, please. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to let me explain.”

  “Explain what? Explain how you got me fired and took over my life and moved me into your home and cut me off from the world and turned me into your pet project? How you picked a petite woman who was small enough to be a girl and naïve and stupid and innocent? Someone no one would ever miss? How long were you planning to keep me here? A decade? Two? The rest of my life? Until you got tired of fucking me?”

  I’m on a roll here. My voice rises. I’m fucking furious. “How many other women have fallen for this? How many have stayed in this room? How many have submitted to you and let you parent them and take over their lives? How long did they last? Were they small like me? Did they have families?”

  I’m shaking and screaming, and I doubt anyone can even understand me, but I can’t stop. I can’t. I have to get it all out. “Did you let anyone else sleep in your bed? Use your fucking bathtub? Did other women wear the same clothes as me? Do you keep those for all your littles? Do you only kidnap girls my same size and stature? What the fuck do you want from me?”

  I don’t think I’ve ever used the word fuck in my life. It’s getting easier. It’s flowing off my lips. It’s appropriate.

  “Who is Daven? When did you get that letter? Why would you keep something like that from me? Fuck you.”

  I’m sobbing hard. Tears are running down my face. I don’t have the energy to continue. I just want one outfit so I can leave this fucking mansion and never look back. Hell, I don’t even fucking need clothes. I just want to walk away.

  I can’t catch my breath. I’m crying so hard. I’m scared and shaking and even cold in this bathtub with this sheet. I kick off my shoes and throw them at the door one at a time. I peel off my socks next. I’m out of energy though, and I don’t want to be naked when someone inevitably breaks down this door.

  I close my eyes and tuck my head against my knees again. And then I wait. Eventually Roman will have to come in. What he does with me next is out of my control. I’m not strong enough to fight him.

  I’m so freaked out that it’s hard to remind myself that obviously he’s not going to hurt me. It’s not logical.

  I hear a noise. The doorknob. It clicks a few times, and then it opens. Of course. Duh. A key.

  I don’t lift my head to look.

&nbs
p; When the door shuts seconds later, I’m too exhausted to care.

  “Lucy, hon. It’s Claudia.”

  I’m kind of shocked, but I don’t move a muscle.

  “I’m just going to climb in there with you so we can talk, okay?”

  Climb into the tub with me? What? Why?

  I hear two soft thuds. Her shoes. And then I sense her stepping into the tub. She’s on the other end. I’m in such a tight ball that there is plenty of room. She doesn’t touch me.

  For several minutes we sit there in silence.

  Finally, I speak in a low voice. I don’t want Roman to hear me. I’m sure he’s right outside the door. “I want some clothes. That’s all. Will he let me leave?” My voice is strained.

  “Honey, you’re not a prisoner here. You can definitely leave anytime you want, but I think you should hear what Roman has to say first. I know you’re hurt right now. I totally understand. And it’s possible the damage is insurmountable. But maybe we could talk for a bit and I can help you better understand where Roman’s coming from. Yeah?”

  I don’t see how that’s possible. I also don’t see how I have a choice. I say nothing.

  “You’re hurting. You have every right. What Roman did was wrong. I know that. You know it. But his intentions were pure. I promise you.”

  I sniffle.

  She pauses and then continues. “I’ve known Roman for twenty years. We met in college. He and Julius were at a club together. I was there. We started talking. They both hit on me. And then I told them I was a Domme. That was the last time they tried to dominate me.” She chuckles lightly.

  I cringe. This is not funny.

  “Sorry.” She sighs. “Anyway, Roman has spent his entire adult life looking for you. He’s known he wanted someone exactly like you since before you were probably born. I used to think he would never find the right woman to be his little girl. Now I know why he was so lonely for so long. He had to wait for you to grow up.”