All The Pretty Things

by Magdon, Rae D

  "Key to Tess's apartment. It's magnetic. Cool, huh?"

  "And she gave you one?" Robin's eyes narrowed.

  "I've had one for years. Now, I'm giving it to you with my blessing and some explicit instructions. Go over there while she's at work, wait for her to get home, make some kind of mushy love speech, then have wild, crazy sex."

  Robin frowned and shook her head, trying to hand the key back to Samantha. The former escort folded Robin's fingers around it, refusing to let her return it. "You want me to break into her home? Isn't that a little like stalking?"

  "Stalk, romance, same difference," Samantha drawled.

  "Breaking and entering is against the law."

  "So is murder and cheating on your income taxes. So what? Go do it."

  Robin still wasn't convinced. "I've already pissed her off once. I don't want to make things even worse."

  Samantha rolled her eyes, leaning back further against the counter and revealing another half-inch of skin. "Yeah, right. I think you're scared. What kind of FBI agent are you if you're scared of a five foot something blonde?" Samantha leaned forward conspiratorially, whispering close to Robin's ear. "Tess is a big pushover. Just do that sexy swagger of yours and snap your fingers, and she'll fall on her knees in less than a second." Her smile grew larger as she watched a dark flush crawl across Robin's tanned cheeks.

  "Um, about that," she stuttered, "I'm not sure if I can..."

  "You can, or you wouldn't be here. You intimidate people at work, right?" Robin nodded in agreement. "Just use your body language. Watch hers. You'll be fine."

  "What if she doesn't want me?"

  Samantha pushed herself up into a straight position, placing a frustrated hand on one hip. "There are some things you should know about Tess Daubney, Birdy. She wants that Congressional seat, and she wants it bad. That's why she cares about her image and what everyone else thinks of her... but what Tess wants and what Tess needs are two totally different things. What Tess needs is someone who will support her when she's strong and comfort her when she's weak." Robin swallowed nervously. "And she needs a Mistress. Someone who can take that weakness and turn it into strength. Someone who can make her feel beautiful and take away her doubts and her pain. I think you could be that person, or I wouldn't be giving you this really annoying speech. But if you don't think you can hack it, walk out this door right now and give me back the key."

  Robin clutched the key tighter, shoving it into the pocket of her pants. It was probably her imagination, but she thought that she could feel warmth coming from the smooth black surface. In some ways, it felt like she held the key to Tess's heart instead of just her apartment. Although she didn't give a verbal answer to Samantha's statement, the other woman could read the determination in her eyes.

  "If I get arrested, I'm blaming you," she warned Samantha, waving a threatening pointer finger. "And if she freaks out, I'm leaving and never bothering her again."

  "She won't call the cops," Samantha teased. "The only handcuffs involved will be the ones you bring." She laughed as all of the color drained from Robin's face.

  "Handcuffs?" Robin repeated nervously. Despite owning two pairs for work, she had never used them during sex before.

  Samantha nodded. "Any kind of restraints do it for her, really, or even just being held down and pinned. She likes the feeling of powerlessness. Considering her job, I don't blame her."

  Robin considered that for a moment. In her previous relationships, she had assumed a more active, slightly dominant role, although she had never consciously decided to define herself as a Top. Maybe she could do this after all. "So, she's really submissive?" she asked, trying to sound casual. "I mean, I got that from some of our conversations..." She explicitly remembered Tess mentioning something about being tied up, beaten, and fucked on her weekends off.

  "Total bottom. Not a pillow queen – she'll eat pussy and suck cock until her jaw falls off – but she definitely wants to be on the receiving end, if you know what I mean."

  "Wait, suck cock?" Robin stammered, losing all pretenses of calmness as her confusion and nervousness resurfaced. She could only hope that if she got it all out of her system now, she would be able to regulate herself better around Tess.

  "The kind that straps on," Samantha drawled, as if she was explaining something completely obvious. "Blowjobs are one of her kinks. She likes being degraded."

  Robin chewed on her lower lip for a moment. She had worn a strap-on before and enjoyed the experience, but she had never considered asking her previous lovers to suck it. She imagined threading her fingers through Tess's soft golden hair, pushing her lips down as the politician stared up at her through the lenses of her square, black glasses. Robin swallowed down the lump forming in her throat, twitching uncomfortably against the seam of her pants. "Degraded?" she finally asked when she found her voice. "What do you mean?"

  "It's not hard," Samantha said, shrugging her shoulders. "Just slap her around a little and call her a slut. That always makes her come."

  “What do you mean, slap her around?” Robin asked. She felt a sudden flare of anger at the thought of anyone physically abusing Tess.

  “On the ass, Birdy. Calm down. Do you think I would do any of this to Tess if she hadn’t explicitly asked me to?” Samantha smiled at her in a way that made Robin blush. They were definitely in her area of expertise, and Robin begrudgingly admitted to herself that Sam probably knew a thing or two about proper BDSM conduct.

  “So... so she likes being called a slut?” Robin asked. She tried to imagine insulting Tess like that, and could not find the right context to make it suitable.

  “Slut, whore, or you could play the possessive card.” Samantha smirked as she looked Robin over. “Though I doubt you’ll need to act very much concerning that one.”

  Robin thought she was done blushing, but that comment made her whole face turn red in an instant despite the tan shade of her skin. “What? I would never... Tess isn’t my property!”

  Samantha laughed and shook her head. “You’re doing that thing again where you assume the worst of the situation. Of course Tess isn’t a possession of yours. Do you know how quickly she would put you back in line if you treated her like that all the time? But in the bedroom, she likes to be reminded that she’s yours to fuck, and yours alone, though I haven’t indulged that fantasy of hers. It’s not healthy to play possessive games with a sex worker.” Robin still frowned at her, and Samantha rolled her eyes. “You don’t own her, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel possessive towards her. It’s probably one of the reasons she has the hots for you in the first place.”

  Robin took a deep breath and considered everything Samantha had just said. She reminded herself that these were Tess's fantasies, not something she had been forced into. In fact, it was the opposite. The thought that Tess had paid Samantha to dominate her was strangely comforting in that moment. "So, how do I do it?" she asked, her voice hardening with resolve.

  "First of all, think about what you're getting yourself into. Indulging someone you care about is fine once in a while, but things won't work out unless there's a mutual interest. Tess likes it kinky too often to settle for someone who always wants vanilla."

  Robin thought about it. Although several of the things Samantha had mentioned were outside her realm of experience, she couldn't deny that she was interested for her own reasons. The thought of overpowering a lover, claiming her and using her, was appealing – especially if that lover was Tess. Now that she had taken a moment to process them, Samantha's suggestions seemed more arousing than intimidating.

  "I want to try it." When Samantha didn't seem convinced, she added, "Honestly, thinking about it is turning me on. I'm just afraid of screwing up and hurting her."

  Samantha smiled. "You won't hurt her, she likes it rough, but you need a safe word."

  Robin wasn't well-versed in BDSM vocabulary, but she knew what a safe word was. That further reassurance of Tess's safety banished the last of her doubts. "
I'll use one." She lifted her hand and rubbed the back of her neck beneath her hair. "So, I've just got to go and perform well enough to convince her that I deserve a second chance. No pressure or anything." She let out a nervous laugh.

  "Normally, I wouldn't recommend jumping in the deep end of the pool so fast, but this is an emergency. Tess needs some sense fucked in to her, and you have to be the one to do it." Samantha patted her arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, I have full confidence in you. Besides, you have a secret weapon."

  "Secret weapon?" Robin asked.

  "Me," Samantha teased, nudging her side. She reached into the box and handed Robin another donut. "Here, eat this and sit down. I'm going to tell you exactly how to blow her mind."

  Chapter 28

  Robin took a deep but quiet breath in through her nose as she waited in the darkness. The tiny, blinking red light of the smoke detector and the faint glow from the city streets beyond the windows weren't that bright, but they were enough. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears. God, why am I doing this? But Robin knew the answer to that question. Tess. She was doing this for Tess. A better question was: could she do this? That answer still eluded her, but she knew that she was about to find out.

  Tess's couch was comfy and roomy enough to accommodate her long legs, but Robin shifted restlessly over the cushions. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Even though Samantha had assured her that Tess would consider the gesture romantic, Robin couldn't help but worry that using the spare key and waiting for her in the dark was a bit stalker-ish.

  The memories of their last encounter were sounds and feelings as much as images, and they made Robin shiver, intangible as they were. She groped through them in the darkness, telling herself it was to pass the time, but knowing that they were beyond her control as they flooded her mind. She still didn't understand how their brief encounter had swung from an incredible high to a heartbreaking low in only a matter of minutes.

  Thinking back, she could vividly recall Tess's hesitation, the brief look of guilt and pain re-shaping into cold refusal as she ordered Robin to leave. In the last glimpse that Robin caught of her before she walked out the door, the politician had looked listless and pale, her post-sexual glow fading as a great weight settled over her shoulders. She knew how difficult it had been for Tess to send her away that night, and hoped that she wouldn't be able to go through with it twice.

  Robin was jerked away from her thoughts when she heard soft sounds outside the door. The mechanical groan of the elevator sliding open. Soft footsteps. Pause. Tess was probably shifting the weight of her purse and briefcase to pull out her keys. Yes, there – the jingling of metal.

  Her muscles burned with the effort of holding still. Tess was right on the other side of that door. She had waited during stakeout duties and sting operations several times throughout her career, but this was twice as nerve-wracking. Robin flexed her fingers, closed her eyes, and breathed quietly, praying that Tess wouldn't panic and call the police. The last thing Robin wanted to do was explain to a bunch of uniformed officers why she was trespassing in the home of a politician two weeks before Election Day.

  A crack of light. The soft creak of wood. The door opened.

  "Hi, Tess," Robin said, turning on the light so that her face was clearly visible. She tried to look as non-threatening as possible, and offered a hesitant smile. However, Samantha's words echoed in the back of her mind: Sometimes, she just wants to give up control...

  Tess started, dropping her briefcase and scrambling not to lose her purse as well. She clasped her newly freed hand to her chest in shock, mouth falling open, eyes widening. "Oh God... I almost had a heart attack," she said with a fast, loud breath of air. It only took a few moments for her surprise to shift into anger. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my apartment?"

  Robin had the decency to look embarrassed. "I didn't mean to scare you. Your friend Samantha agreed to lend me a spare key."

  "I'll kill her," Tess muttered, slipping out of her shoes. Robin didn't blame her. The four-inch heels looked uncomfortable for all-day wear, even though they were very nice.

  "I talked her into it," said the agent, not wanting to put Samantha in an awkward position, even though the former escort still wasn't her favorite person in the world. "I know this is an invasion of your personal space, but I didn't think you would talk to me at work or in public. I was afraid it would look suspicious if a strange woman started following you around and demanding to speak with you a couple of weeks before your big day."

  That explanation seemed to mollify Tess, who adjusted her glasses on her nose and reached up to free her hair from its severe twist. Robin couldn't help smiling a little as waves of blonde hair washed about her shoulders. Her hair was one of Tess's better qualities. She always looked like she had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial, even at the end of the day. Robin envied her. Sometimes, 'porcupine' was the only accurate way to describe her hair.

  "Relax," Tess sighed, remembering to close the front door and pulling her arms through the sleeves of her coat before hanging it up on the coat rack. "I'm not going to call the cops on you."

  Robin tried not to look too relieved. Feeling more confident, she stood up to meet the politician a few steps away from the couch. "I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. After that, I promise to leave if you really want me to... but I hope you'll let me stay."

  Tess lowered her eyes sadly. "Robin, I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have thrown you out of my office yesterday. It was unnecessarily cruel. But you have to realize that this could never work.”

  "Why not?" Robin asked simply.

  "I've spent my entire life working towards this goal, this moment... I have a chance to make a real difference here and take the first step in achieving my dreams. I can't just throw all of that away. It isn't just about me and what I want."

  "Maybe it's time to start thinking about what you want instead of what other people want for you?" Robin kept her voice gentle as she made the suggestion, but it still pierced Tess's heart. She continued as Tess fumbled for a response. "Everyone has the right to chase their dreams, but are you sure it's really your dreams that you're chasing this time and not everyone else's?"

  Tess sank onto the couch that Robin had abandoned, folding her hands in her lap. She looked tired, too tired to give the kind of fight Robin was expecting. "Are you all right?" she asked, sitting down beside her. She reached out a concerned hand, but pulled it back before it made contact with Tess's shoulder, not sure if her touch would be welcome.

  "Honestly? No. I had a terrible day. I walked into my office, and Brian immediately started waving newspaper headlines in my face. I spilled coffee on my blouse, had to turn down a very nice check from a corporate CEO without offending him over lunch, and spent the entire afternoon with my stomach in knots because of what happened between us last night. I'm getting hammered from both sides of the fence right now. Democrats hate me because I want to cut taxes and refuse to finance their pet spending projects, and Republicans hate me because I let it slip that I don't see the point of carrying around assault rifles or banning gay marriage. I still have no idea what I'm going to do about my blackmailer, and he's still waiting for me to pay him. On top of all that, you blew through my life like some kind of hurricane and turned everything upside down so that I'm not even sure what the hell I want anymore..."

  Seeing the slump of Tess's shoulders, Robin finally gathered the courage to place her hand above Tess's knee, stroking her thumb over the fabric of her pencil skirt. "Stop denying the things you need, Tess. This guilt is eating you alive."

  "There is no reason to feel guilty," the politician said flatly, her eyes focusing on anything except Robin's face. "I can't change what I am."

  "Intellectually, you know that you can't change who you are, but that doesn't stop you from feeling guilty about it."

  Something broke open deep inside of her chest. All of the pain she had clung to so tightly spilled out as she came undone at the se
ams. Tess took her lower lip between her teeth and bit down, leaving a stinging line, hoping that the sharp pain would distract her enough to keep back tears. She did feel guilty. She wanted to be the person that her parents, her family, and her community saw when they looked at her, but that was impossible.

  "I was six," she said, her voice so soft that she barely recognized it, "when I was on television for the first time. They put me in makeup and I got to sit in a big chair. All of the smells and lights were new and exciting, and I felt so grown up. I saw the man filming behind the camera, and he looked at me and said, 'she's such a pretty thing', and I smiled... I've always had this image of myself, this perfect vision of what I want to be, of what I want people to see when they look at me, and – now, when I look at myself, I don't see me. I just see all the pretty things my family and I have ever owned. Sometimes I don't feel like a human being anymore. I'm trapped in some kind of display case. I'm just an exhibit that people can look at and admire..."

  Tess looked so lost, so vulnerable in that moment, that Robin was afraid if she touched her, she would break her. Hearts bruised even more easily than skin, and there was a patchwork of emotional bruises and scars across Tess's soul.

  Robin pressed her forehead against Tess's, holding on tight even when she began to shake, wrapping her arms around the woman’s shoulders and pulling her close, hoping that the warmth and solidness of her body, the connection, would offer some comfort. She finally found the right words, her hands roaming over Tess's face, her hair, the sides of her arms. She spoke them with as much sincerity as she could summon. "When I met you, I looked past the image, the deception, and the lies. All that was left for me to see was you, and I found you beautiful. That's why I'm still here. I saw you, the real you, standing there, and I was so drawn to you that I had to know you, to become closer to you in some way. I saw you, and seeing you made me want you."

  The words stopped. Robin waited. Finally, Tess said, "I want to kiss you, but I'm afraid you'll vanish. I'm afraid you can't possibly be real. I want to kiss you, but I'm scared."