by Amy Faye
She watched the threads of the carpet move under the vacuum and took care not to miss a single inch. She had to make sure it was perfect, because the minute that she let herself slack was the minute that she’d fall apart completely, and there’d be no putting her back together again after that.
Sixteen
The answer came to Harper all at once, and then it seemed so simple that she couldn’t believe that it hadn’t occurred to her sooner. The answer was so simple, so obvious, that she ought to have known better than to worry. The entire thing was so clear.
She let out a low breath and laid back. The wait for Daddy to get home was harder than usual. She’d have to figure out something to get him to listen to her. It was a good solution, and a simple one, but she’d have to get him convinced somehow, and she wasn’t entirely sure how that was going to happen.
The leaves outside had taken their time changing, but now they’d gone from empty to green and now to full browns and reds and oranges. They changed, just like Harper had. They don’t know how to break their cycle, though. She knew. She could get out of it, no muss, no fuss. Perhaps just a little bit of fuss. The future was hard to predict, after all, and there were plenty of ways her plan could go wrong.
She knew it in her gut, but it was easier for her if she didn’t think about what could go wrong. Don’t ever think about the wrong stuff. Think about the right stuff. Think about how well it could all go. Then, when things went right, she was ready for it. But if they went wrong, she would be screwed. The fact was, though, that wasn’t that different from before.
She was a negative person, back home. She’d always prepared for the worst. Or at least, she thought that she prepared for the worst. Then the worst happened, and she realized that she hadn’t prepared for it at all. She’d just eaten up her own belief that things were completely fine.
Harper stood up. She could do more work. There wasn’t anything that needed doing, per se, but she could put herself to use. The kitchen still hadn’t settled from its last cleaning, but she could always clean it again, to make sure that things continued to stay on track.
She had the energy, she had the ideas of what she hadn’t taken care of yet today, and she knew how she could get them dealt with. She’d been working herself to the bone every day, and it was pleasant. Freeing. Being around Daddy was freeing and pleasant, too. He had created the perfect world for her, a world where she could push herself without worrying about what other people thought of her.
But her entire goal was to tire herself out, and it had worked, for better or worse. She had been tired; so tired that she couldn’t think clearly. So tired that she couldn’t see what was plain in front of her face. But then, like a gift from God, it had just popped right into her head.
She could solve all her problems at once, and it wouldn’t have to be difficult. It could be amazingly easy. She could have everything she wanted. She could have the life she’d grown attached to. She could have the man that she’d grown used to having around.
All she had to do was just… get him to buy her for another year. It wouldn’t be that hard, she was sure. She just had to do a little convincing, and he could buy another year of her service. And when that year ended, it wouldn’t even be as much convincing. After two years together, all he would need to know was that she wanted him to, and he’d probably buy another year of her life.
Eventually, it would be second nature. At the end of each year, he’d buy her. Almost symbolically, because she’d be living here. She wouldn’t be living in the Summers house, and she wouldn’t be spending the money that he paid her.
It was so easy. So simple. She moved over to the shared bath and stripped her clothes off. They fit her better than her own clothes had before she came here. She liked them better. If she left, how could she keep her favorite clothes? They didn’t belong to her, after all. Nothing did. Somewhere, someplace else, there was a bunch of stuff that was hers, but she didn’t like any of it. She’d been hoping to get rid of it for so long that she didn’t really know how to think of it any other way.
The sound of the water almost made her jump when she turned the knob, even though she knew that she ought to have been prepared for it. She waited for it to heat up, and as she waited, she planned.
She just had to convince Thayer that he needed her around. That there was a lot of value in having her around.
Then, once she’d convinced him of her value, he could be talked to about the money thing. Just another year, she’d say. Another year of her life, and another bit of money, and she’d be able to stay. She’d be able to keep providing him with the value that he’d grown just as used to receiving as she was to giving.
She stepped under the water; it was just hot enough not to be scalding, and it did for her body what the work had done to her soul. It burned her all over, and where it burned, it purified. She leaned her head back and let the water hit her.
She relaxed for a long moment before she reached for the shampoo. The heat seeped into her, filled her up and chased away the tiredness and the slight chill that had settled into the house only a day or two earlier. The water soaked into her hair, into her face, into her skin, preparing her to be clean.
It felt good. She felt good. And she had to be good, because she was going to try to convince Daddy that he was going to be buying a very, very good girl indeed.
Seventeen
Daddy’s lips felt good on Harper’s breasts. They always did. He didn’t indulge her in it often, but she enjoyed it when he did.
“Let me take charge, Daddy,” she purred. “You won’t regret it.”
He leaned back and rolled over, until he was laying down. Waiting for whatever she was going to do. And she wasn’t going to let him regret it, she knew that. She was going to make sure that he was absolutely convinced that she was worth every penny. She had to. This was her chance, and very possibly her last chance. So she had to try damn hard to make sure that nothing went wrong.
She peeled back his underwear; his cock sprang loose, already stiff after their reunion. She knew what happened when Daddy got home. He knew, too. Harper guessed that he looked forward to it. She hoped that he did. She was counting on it.
And she was counting on herself to please him. To make him feel good, so he could keep making her feel good.
She pulled him into her mouth and started working on his shaft. His fingers traced through her hair, but he wasn’t in a hurry, and neither was she. She took her time with it, savoring the taste. Savoring the subtle movements of his hips to meet her mouth when she did finally take him further into her mouth.
She took her time. Made sure that she was going to get the job done, and made sure that she was going to do it properly.
But she didn’t escalate. Not like she usually did. There was usually a brief period where she did this, and then she’d get down to business—she’d take him deep, let him use her throat. It made her feel better than she wanted to think about. Better than she wanted to admit, to herself or to anyone else, for that matter.
But this time, she had other plans. Important plans. Things she wanted to make sure got done, and other things that she didn’t care nearly as much about. One of the things up on the chopping block was the usual routine; if anything, she wanted to do anything but the usual.
So when he started to press her to go faster, subtle signals that she’d gotten used to having to interpret when they were together like this, she ignored him. She defied him, even. It was a risk, but she had to take a risk to get a reward, and she wasn’t going to let her life get away from her again.
So Harper pulled off completely, gave the shaft one last goodbye lick, and then stood up. Daddy watched her with a vague sense of interest, almost amusement. What was she planning? Harper could almost see the question in his head, and she could almost see him musing over what the answer could be. And then she slipped her shorts off, and climbed up on top of him, and he got his answer.
Harper lined up the big cock with her
entrance. He only used her like this very rarely; there was something almost taboo about it, even though she’d fucked him without even knowing his name and thought nothing of it. Now it was like she was crossing an invisible line, taking what she wanted rather than giving him what he asked for.
But she knew that he wanted it, too. She knew because she could see the forced restraint in his face when he pulled back, when he used her every way but this one. She let out a long breath as she settled her weight down on top of him. She felt as if she were full to bursting, stretching to the point where it hurt.
That was the best part of it, though, she knew. The pain would turn to pleasure in an instant, like flipping a switch, and before that, she would keep herself steady by reminding herself how important this was. How much she needed to make sure that everything worked out.
Harper started to grind her hips back and forward, feeling the cock inside her stirring up her insides. It felt as if it was bumping her cervix with every movement.
“Daddy?”
“What’s up?” His voice was strained when it came out. She knew then that he was enjoying what she was doing.
“There’s something…” He hit her in just the right spot, and for an instant, her mind blanked. She kept her hips moving, silently hoping that she’d find it again. “I want to talk to you about.”
His fingers gripped her hips. This deep in, with her as tight as she was… she wondered dimly if he was in pain. She was, in a sense. The pleasure was already starting to build inside her.
“Oh?”
She kept moving her hips, forward and back, back and forward. “I want something from you.”
His fingers dug into her hips, but he didn’t rush or hurry her. Just held on tight. “What’s that?”
Harper moved her hips faster. Her body felt like it was on fire, and for a moment she couldn’t even think. The question sounded like it meant nothing. What was he asking her, anyways? Then she remembered. Her hips continued their rocking, circular motion.
“I want you to buy me again.”
Her body felt like it was on fire. His hips rocked up to meet hers for the first time, and her vision blanked. She kept herself pressed up only because her elbows locked her up, pressed against Daddy’s shoulders.
Their bodies moved together as an orgasm ripped through her, tightening her whole body up until she couldn’t think straight, and then waves of pleasure shook through her as the tension went out of her, broken up by his cock.
“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m gonna—”
“Cum in me, Daddy,” Harper moaned. She wanted it so bad. She could almost taste it. Could almost feel it. She needed it so bad, and it was so close…
His hips bucked up and stayed there, pressing deep into her. Harper pressed back down against him. And then he jerked inside her, and Harper felt his warmth spreading through her as he came.
Eighteen
She’d done her best. In a way, Harper was proud of that. It wasn’t enough, though. Enough would have sounded like of course, Harper. Enough would have sounded like ‘whatever you say.’ Or perhaps ‘It’s already done.’ Enough would have done something and changed something and put her in a position not to be sitting here the past week, wringing her hands and worrying about when the other shoe was going to drop.
I’ll think about it meant that she hadn’t done enough. Her best might have been good enough to get her the win, in the end. She didn’t know, not really. Not to an absolute certainty.
Harper’s gut knew, though. She tried to tell herself over and over, every time that her gut started to tell her what it thought it knew, that she didn’t know anything. Nothing was set in stone. Nothing was certain. Things went better than expected all the time.
Her gut patiently waited until she was done with all of her explanations for why everything was going to work out, and then reminded her that things weren’t.
She grit her teeth and scrubbed harder. The grout between the tiles was darker than she’d liked. It was a big job, and not one that anyone had asked her for. But it kept her busy, and idle hands do the devil’s work. Harper forced herself to keep scrubbing. Her fingers hurt.
She worked and didn’t think about what was going to happen in another two months. She didn’t think about the fact that it had been a week since Daddy had told her that he was going to think about it.
How much thought had he given? Or was he just waiting until her contract was up, and he was going to dump her on the side of the road?
It wasn’t like she was going to be stranded. She was going to be out in the real world, where she had plenty of money. There would be no shortage of ways to get home. No problem getting herself fed. She just had to make a few phone calls, and a ride would be coming to find her, no matter how bad things got.
But she didn’t want that. She wanted to stay here. She sat back on the ground and looked at the work that she’d done. It was clean. Not enough of it was clean. Just a square foot or so. But it still looked wrong.
She closed her eyes. She’d have to go home, in a couple months. She might not know, but she knew. She’d be alone again. She’d go right back to where she was. Seeing Dad’s face around every corner, thinking that any minute he’d be home. But he wasn’t going to be. He hadn’t been for a year, and she knew better than to believe that it would change now.
She hadn’t gone to see the grave. The phrase “beautiful ceremony” had been used by so many people that it lost its meaning in her mind. Harper let out a long, low breath. She hadn’t even gone after. There had been a long time that she could have gone. A year. But she couldn’t. And now it had been two years, and she hadn’t gone.
Harper’s eyes stung and her throat burned. But she wasn’t going to cry. She had dealt with all of this already. She was stronger. Big girls don’t cry, and so on.
She could hear the noise outside. There was a voice in her head that told her, Daddy’s home. She had to get a hold of herself. But no matter how much she wanted to, it wasn’t going to be on the menu today. Her eyes stung worse, and then something hot and wet streaked down her cheeks. She wasn’t crying, because that would be humiliating. And Daddy didn’t walk in on her crying, because that would be even more humiliating.
Harper sat in the corner and cried, and Thayer stepped into the room, going through his usual routine, without realizing she was there for a moment. She hoped dimly that he would continue not to notice, but there was no way she was going to be that lucky. It wasn’t going to happen. She took a long breath, and tried to steady herself.
What came out instead of her cool, calm breath was a hiccup and a wail. A pair of arms encircled her and stood her up. Harper’s feet moved automatically. That was the best that she could hope for, and it worked well. Daddy took her up the stairs, down the hall, and into her room. She sat down on her own and turned away from him.
The sound of his footsteps walking out of the room was the only noise for a moment; then there was no sound at all, as he stopped by the door.
“Harper, if you can hear me, I thought about it.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t want to acknowledge that she was feeling so broken down at all; the moment she spoke was the moment that she’d have to face what she was feeling.
“I’m not going to be renewing your service in the new year.”
Then his steps stepped back out of the door and into the hall, her door closed behind him, and she was left to start getting down to really, seriously making an attempt at crying her eyes out.
Nineteen
The work helped. That, if nothing else, was a kindness. Harper reminded herself of it whenever she felt down. She had to remind herself more than she’d have liked. But she was free, and she’d made almost two million dollars in the process.
After all, there was never just one option. She could go home, and she could keep herself in check. She could find something else to devote herself to. She could find someone else to think about,
someone else to spend time with.
It would all be fine, really. No problems. Eventually, she wouldn’t even be upset that she’d left this opportunity behind. It wasn’t an option and as soon as she knew that, she would be better off.
Harper thought, before she started doing it, that she’d be able to get over her disappointment. She’d be able to get her head back together. Nothing to worry about.
But the reality was that it still stung. She’d been refused, and she’d been refused in the flattest possible way. She let out a long, low breath and pushed herself away from the wall, and settled her weight back onto the mop handle. She would get over it. She had to, after all. There was still work to be done.
The weapon that she had to keep away her mood, more than any other, was the system and routine. As long as she made sure to keep working, and she made sure to make sure that it was perfect, then she didn’t have to feel bad. She was already doing everything that she could.
She looked at the clock hanging on the wall. In a few short hours, she’d be boarding a plane. The time ticked away. Ten hours, now. Nine hours and fifty-seven minutes, forty-two seconds. Forty-one. Forty.
She forced herself to keep working. Harder. The more the worked, the less that she had to think about it. When the room was finished, she’d move on to the next one. When the next was finished, she’d move on again. Ten hours. It was practically forever.
And at the same time, when it was a ten-hour stay of execution, it was hardly any time at all. In ten hours she’d be on a plane. In sixteen, she’d be back at her house. Back in her life. Back to normal. And there would be nothing to show for the year except a bunch of money and a bunch of regrets.
Harper’s body stiffened, and then relaxed. She was being dramatic. There was plenty to look forward to. She wasn’t the same person who left that house a year ago, and she’d have plenty of time to ease back into a normal life.