by Becca Little
“She grew up.” Damien said. “She grew up and moved away.”
“Oh.” Jennifer said.
She wondered if it really could be that easy, and what it would entail exactly. She had questions burning her up, but she was afraid to ask. She tried to swallow her fears and put them to the side. If she was considering the arrangement, she needed the facts. Other things bothered her, like what her friends would think, what her mother would think, and how it would work. She finally got enough bravery to speak. She thought she understood, but she needed clarity.
“So, you’re saying you want to become my father?” She asked.
“No.” He lifted his cigar and the end glowed as smoke rolled out from his mouth. “I can never replace him. I’m suggesting something different. I’ll be your Daddy. I’ll love you, protect you, and I’ll punish you when you deserve it.”
“And what, I just dress up like a little girl so you can have sex with me?” She still couldn’t get past the fact that this whole thing seemed to be some kind of sex thing, even though he said it wasn’t.
She liked the idea of being with Damien, any woman in their right mind would, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it that way.
“I already told you, sex is not required.” His tone suggested he was annoyed she kept bringing it up.
“Is it…optional?” She tilted her head and looked at him.
“There may be a time when our relationship reaches that point, but only if it is what you want.” He leaned back against the dresser and let her comprehend what he said.
“So, what exactly do you get out of this?” She chewed her lip nervously.
“I get to watch you grow up. I get to take care of you, come home every day to find you excited to see me, and when you’re naughty…” He let that go unfinished.
“You’ll punish me.” She caught the hint.
“I will.” Damien nodded.
“Okay. Can I think about this?” Jennifer asked.
“You can. I wouldn’t expect you to rush into such an important decision. My driver will take you home if you are ready.” He pulled out his cell phone and prepared to dial.
“Thank you.” Jennifer left the bedroom and went back to the living room where she lit up another cigarette and smoked. “I guess I shouldn’t bother showing up for work tomorrow, or have you rethought that?”
“No. You screwed up, you’re definitely fired.” His words carried a bit of a harsh tone.
A few minutes later, the limousine pulled up outside. Jennifer took her purse and walked towards the door. Damien opened it for her and gave her a light peck on the side of her head before letting her walk to the waiting car. The door closed behind her and she was on her way home. Her head spun with everything he had said. She wasn’t sure she could go through with something like that, but the idea was intriguing. Being the little girl of a billionaire would certainly have benefits, and if it was entirely strange or crazier than it already seemed to be, she could always leave.
When she got back to the apartment and began dismantling the image she had created for what wasn’t a date at all, she thought about the proposal. She was interested, but she felt like she should sleep on it. It was a big decision, one that would change her life forever. That night, she dreamed of her father and the day he died. When she sat in her room, expecting to hear her mother’s screams, she instead heard her door open. Her heart leapt into her throat. Her father was home, he didn’t die. When she raised her excited, gleaming eyes to meet his she instead saw Damien smiling back at her.
She woke up in a cold sweat, trembling with a mixture of confusion and despair.
CHAPTER 5: CONFLICT
When morning came, Jennifer leapt out of bed. She ran towards the bathroom, thinking she was already late for work. Then it hit her, she wasn’t late for work, because she didn’t have a job. She walked back to bed and crawled under the covers, sighing. She tried to go back to sleep, but her body refused. She was filled with images from the night before. She finally lit a cigarette and turned on her television. She couldn’t remember the last time she watched it during the day. She had spent all her daylight hours either looking for a job when she didn’t have one and working when she finally did.
Television seemed so mundane, but as she flipped the channels, she came to stop on a documentary. It was about Damien, titled ‘Self Made Man - The Extraordinary Life of Damien Fields’ She placed the remote down and smoked, watching as images of him from his youth came on the screen. He was handsome when he was younger but the man he had evolved into was beyond hot. Age had crafted him into the perfect specimen of a man, and it was clear it had a lot of good genetics to work with from the beginning.
World renowned billionaire and entrepreneur, Damien Fields, wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. At the age of eighteen, he dropped out of college and went to work at a textile plant. His brief stint with manual labor invigorated him to seek out other means of financial freedom. When he was nineteen, he moved to the city and started working at a newspaper where he edited articles for next to nothing. His lack of a college education didn’t stop him from becoming a reporter, investing his earnings, and then later buying the newspaper outright when it was facing bankruptcy. Unafraid to report the real news other papers shied away from, he exposed politicians, destroyed companies by telling the truth, and even brought down his main competitor with a headline spilling their sins for the world to read. As the digital age took off, he sold half of his stake and founded Fields Digital Media Distribution, which he grew into a billion-dollar company. His employees say he is a demanding boss, but the rewards are well worth the investment.
“Well worth the investment? Hmm...” Jennifer said out loud to the television. She still felt like his demands were what caused her father’s heart attack, although it was a correlation no medical professional would ever make.
Damien’s personal life is quite the mystery. He was linked to several models and actresses in his earlier years, but the playboy never settled down. For the last ten years, it seems that all his time has gone into his work and he hasn’t been seen out in public with a woman in quite some time. Rumors persist that he could be dating someone who doesn’t share his love of the spotlight, but no paparazzi has managed to snag the money shot. For all intents and purposes, he seems to have been a relationship hermit, working late hours and likely plotting his next big takeover.
The words drifted off and Jennifer no longer listened. She knew what the world didn’t; Damien had no interest in conventional dating. His desires were much different. She wasn’t entirely sold on the idea, but she knew she had to do something with her life, especially in the wake of unemployment. She picked up her cell phone and checked her bank account. She didn’t even have enough to pay rent, and without a check the next week, she would have an angry landlord. Eviction wasn’t a matter of if, just when.
Even if she got a job waiting tables, she wouldn’t be able to afford her rent. She had lived above her means, and it was going to come crashing down. She could ask Abigail for a loan, and she would probably give it to her, but she hated asking friends for a handout. Plus, that would mean admitting she lost a job most people would kill for.
Her thoughts drifted to Michael. He hadn’t called since she threw him out, which meant he had no intentions of winning her back. She was just an easy girl in a bar, one he manipulated for sex, just like when they were together. She wasn’t sure Michael loved anyone but himself. He pretended that he gave a damn about her, but a few weeks into the relationship, he sent her to the floor with a vicious slap. The next day, he begged her forgiveness and she gave it. It didn’t stop there. He got more violent in time, but she kept on forgiving.
The final straw came when he cheated on her, or at least when she found out about it. If the text messages in his phone were to be believed, he had dozens of girls on the side while playing house with her. Now she was just another number in his Rolodex, the convenient one he came home to fuck when he didn’t have anyone else ready
to spread their legs. Even in the despair of her current situation, she took a moment to swear a vow never to let him touch her again. She had sworn that vow before, but alcohol had betrayed her oath.
Jennifer sat alone in her room, smoking, watching television on mute, and playing with her cell phone, until it started to get dark outside. She realized that she only had one cigarette left, so she decided to make a quick run to the store. She had two options: walk four blocks through the crowded streets, or take a shortcut through the alley behind her apartment which would take her to another store in half the time.
She normally opted for the longer trip since the one four blocks away also carried a Caramel Macchiato that could rival the big coffee shops for half the price, but even that luxury was one she couldn’t afford with her financial future in doubt. She didn’t even think about the more practical option of not spending money on cigarettes.
She took the shortcut and sprinted across the street before the flashing light could change from ‘Walk.’ As she browsed the aisles of the convenience store, she realized that she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since the night before. She had always been a light eater, but there was a gnawing need. All the snacks were overpriced, but she would end up spending more if she didn’t go pick up a bag of groceries. She knew that was the best option, but she just wasn’t in the mood. She grabbed a few bags of chips, a pack of crackers, and a cola. To that, she added two packs of cigarettes and spent way more money than she should have. She wasn’t happy to spend so much, but she knew it was enough to keep her indoors for the next two days, and she really felt like she could use a couple of days as a junk food eating, cigarette smoking hermit before she tried to figure out what to do next with her life.
When she got back outside, it had already gotten dark. She spent so much time deciding between flavors of chips that she didn’t even have the faint glow of dusk to guide her home. She hated walking through the alleys at night, but she had no other choice at that point. She ran back across the street and tucked her head down, plunging into the darkness. She realized quickly it was a mistake. There was an odor. It was human stench.
Homeless people loved digging through the garbage, and some of them weren’t exactly sane. She reached into her purse for change, hoping to use it as a distraction if anyone approached. She could throw it on the ground as a peace offering and take off before they could harass her for more. She was about five feet from the end of the darkest part when she heard something behind her. She looked at the ground and tried to walk faster, even preparing to run. A hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around.
“What do we have here?” The old man’s breath was disgusting. She couldn’t see his features, but she could see the outline of wrinkles and a scraggly beard.
“I have some change.” Jennifer said nervously, trying to step out of his grasp as she tossed the coins on the ground.
“I don’t want your spare change, honey.” He pressed his body against her and pushed her face-first against the wall.
“Take whatever you want, but please don’t hurt me.” Jennifer felt her arm being twisted behind her. He had control and she couldn’t get free. She could possibly fight back, or scream, but there was a chance he was just going to take her food and let her go.
The homeless man took her grocery bag and her purse, tossing them both on the ground. He pressed himself closer to her. She realized she was in actual danger. She started to scream, but his hand clamped over her mouth. He was bigger than her, an entire head taller than her five-foot four inch frame. He pushed his lips close to her ear and she could smell a stench as he spoke directly into it.
“I have a knife.” He released the grip on her arm and then she felt something sharp and pointed against her ribs. “If you scream, it’s going in. I’ll cut you head to toe before you can move. Do you understand?”
Jennifer nodded. Tears began welling up in her eyes and they streamed down her face. He pulled his hand off her mouth and licked the finger that had been pressed between her lips. Her blood ran cold and she trembled. Her heart was beating in her ears so hard she could barely hear anything else. With the knife in her ribs, she felt his other hand reach around and unsnap her jeans. They were unzipped and pushed down as she began openly sobbing.
“Please don’t do this.” She begged.
“Please don’t do this?” The homeless man mocked her, trying to emulate her voice. He pushed her panties down and she felt his nasty, cold fingers exploring her.
“I’ll get you money. We can go to the ATM and I’ll give you all of the money in my bank account.” Jennifer tried one final plea, the only thing she could think of offering him.
“I can get money sitting on the street looking sad. Tonight, I want something else.” His finger found her pussy. It was dry as a board, but he pushed his way in anyway. It hurt and she grimaced as he went deep inside her, pushing in and out to try and get it ready.
“Please…” She cried out in a gasp.
As much as she hated it, the sensation of his finger inside was causing stimulation. She had heard that rape victims sometimes felt pleasure, and hated themselves for it. She wished she could completely shut down her body. She even considered screaming and risking the knife, but when he twisted it in her ribs and she felt the pain, she decided that was a terrible idea. It was happening and she had no way to stop it.
“Do you know what I’m going to shove in here?” He asked, fingering her even harder.
Jennifer didn’t respond. She simply cried against the wall. She could tell his pants were being pushed down by his body movement. A second later, she felt his erect cock being rubbed against her ass. He lifted her leg and prepared for penetration.
“HEY!” A male voice boomed into the alley.
The noise caused her attacker to drop his knife and stagger back. She instantly heard his feet pounding the pavement, running away. Another set of footsteps followed him. Jennifer reached down, still shaking with fear, and pulled up her panties and her jeans. She grabbed her items from the ground and ran towards the end of the alley. She never got to see who chased off the homeless man or if they caught him, she just wanted to get away. She entered her building and once she was safely locked in her apartment, she sank to the floor and cried, nervously lighting a cigarette to try and calm her nerves. She sat there in the dark until the sun started to come up. Her tears were finally dry and she had smoked so many cigarettes her lungs could barely process oxygen.
CHAPTER 6: GOODBYE JENNIFER
Jennifer argued with herself as she finally made her way to the shower and ate some of the junk food she managed to pick up from the alleyway before running to her apartment. Part of her said she should call Damien, but the more logical part of her said the whole idea was ridiculous. When her mail came and she got a round of bills that added up to more than her bank account, she decided that she had no choice. She had to call her mother and ask to come home, or she had to call Damien and find out exactly what he was offering. She chose the latter. She didn’t have his personal cell phone number, but she knew he would be at the office. She dialed the number with hesitation, but once it was ringing, there was no turning back.
“Could I speak with Mr. Fields please?” Jennifer asked his secretary, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to get through to him. The best she could hope for was a message.
“Mr. Fields is away right now; would you like to leave a message?” The secretary tried her best to resonate honesty, but Jennifer knew Damien never left his office and this was all a formality to make sure people didn’t bother the billionaire.
“Yes, a message is fine. Let him know that Jennifer is calling about the opportunity he offered her, and would like to discuss it when he’s available.” She hoped that was vague enough for his secretary not to nose around, yet curious enough she would think it was business related and give it to Damien.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll be sure to give him the message. Have a nice day.” The line was disconnected after the b
rief but polite closing statement.
Jennifer hung up the phone and stared at the wall. She had nothing else to offer this world. She had played life like a game, and she had lost. If the mysterious stranger hadn’t interfered, she would likely be in a hospital or a morgue. She could still feel the disgusting homeless man’s fingers exploring her when she closed her eyes. At some point, she would have to sleep from exhaustion, and she was afraid of the dreams that would come. Her brain had always decompressed the day through lucid dreaming, and she wasn’t looking forward to reliving that event over and over. She lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke and then her phone rang.
It was Damien.
“Hello?” She answered, nervously clutching the phone in her right hand. Her nerves were so shot her left hand was shaking ashes on the floor.
“Hello Jennifer. My secretary said you called?” His voice sounded transactional. She wished it was loving and soothing; the way it was the last time they met. She needed that.
“Yes. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said; the opportunity you offered me.” Jennifer brought the cigarette to her lips and tried to calm herself with nicotine.
“I’m glad to hear you’ve been thinking about it. Have you made a decision?” He asked.
“I have, yes. I would like to…” She struggled with what to say, as if saying it out loud made it real, and there was no going back once the words were spoken.
“Tell me.” His voice was a little more commanding. She could tell he didn’t have patience for games, and whatever answer she gave would be either be the beginning of something or their last conversation.
“I would like to take advantage of the opportunity.” She finally said it and she immediately wanted to take it back. Her heart beat in her ears. She tried to rationalize her thoughts, but they were a mess.
“My driver will meet you outside at six o’clock. All you need to pack is an overnight bag. I will send someone for the rest of your stuff. The things you need will be brought to the house. The rest will go into storage.” He had a plan already prepared, and for a moment, that worried Jennifer, but then she realized he was a man who didn’t go into anything unprepared.