by Jen Eastwood
His poor wife probably knew he was lining her up to shoot her down. “But she wants to go to nursing school. Why can't you let her decide?” I felt bad for her, even if her hair looked like it had been formed in a vat like every politician's wife.
“And the only husband she'll find there is some closet queer.”
I guess I know which party he's a part of. As a couple of the house staff entered with our food, I tried to steer everyone back on track. “Ma'am, I was told that I will be tutoring your daughter personally, as a special guest of our academy.”
She nodded and looked down, hands in her lap. Of course, her husband spoke for her. “My wife is only concerned about our daughter's future, just like myself.”
“I can see that.”
“But what she doesn't realize is how much harder our daughter's life will be if she gets too many uppity ideals.” As soon as the plate hit the table in front of him, the senator had his fork in hand. “Our daughter would be honored to be a student here.”
And your idea of table manners starts and stops with 'don't fuck the pork roast.' “We'd be honored to have her.”
“She'll prove herself worthy of your institution.”
'Worthy.' The emptiest word in the English language.
The longest dinner of my life finally ended. As Mr. and Mrs. Chandler said their good-byes to their Lara, my grandfather motioned for me to follow as he got up. “Anya,” he said, “the new student is in your care until we are finished.”
She grabbed me by the upper arm, muttering, “You still owe me later.”
Have I ever turned you down? “I shouldn't be too long. Just take care of her until I get back.”
A line of ice traced up my back from the slow, deliberate way she said, “I will.”
It's not like I could do anything about it. My grandfather wasn't the person you left waiting around here. He was already at the doorway opposite the one we had entered earlier, clearly heading toward his own office.
As soon as I caught up to him at the start of another corridor, he said, “New students do not arrive after the start of the semester, but this girl is a unique case.”
She didn't look any better or more important than any of the other students. “How so?”
“Alexei, do you think she will be happy living under her father's thumb, even though she is old enough to choose for herself?”
“So it's better if we force her to believe things instead.” I didn't mean to come across so snarky and ham-fisted.
A quick swat to the back of my head was punishment enough, but that look of derision in his eyes was enough to gut me. “You Americans all think that hypocrites are fine, so long as they have money.”
“He seemed honest and open about being a shitty person to me.”
“True.” I saw his usual grin come back as he pulled his customary after-dinner cigarette out of his breast pocket. “Do you like people like that man, Alexei?”
“Self-proclaimed religious conservatives hell-bent on forcing their ideals onto everyone but themselves? What more could I ask for in a person?”
“It is always sarcasm with you.” His lighter clicked a tiny flame out. “We had our own people like him in Soviet Russia.”
One thing you learn quickly about my grandfather, grandmother, and wife: Even though they find a reason to hate every group of people, they always save their most vile feelings for their fellow Russians.
“Money taken under the table, unspeakable luxury, and even immunity from the law.” He was having another one of those verbal flashbacks. “Only for the party leaders and their backers, but nothing for the common worker. And today? All in the hands of even fewer oligarchs.”
“It must have been awful there. I'm glad you found a way over here.”
My grandfather stopped at his office door, leaned against it, and then crossed his arms. “Who said I was speaking of Russia?”
He had me there. Of all of the obscenely wealthy people I had met, my grandfather was the only one who spoke openly with contempt for how shitty the rich treat their employees. Knowing the accounting books behind this academy by then, even the lowliest employee made a more than decent living. It told me why so many people had been with him for so long.
“Come,” he opened the door, “let me tell you what has to be done with that girl.”
“Is this a test, or a special assignment you're trusting me with?”
My grandfather didn't bother responding. He marched straight to his opulent desk in the middle of the room and sat, a plume of gunmetal blue smoke flowing upward from his mouth. As soon as I had my ass in a chair, he answered. “Both, Alexei, for you and Anya.”
As far as I knew, he trusted my wife just as much as my grandmother. “I thought she was your crowning achievement since founding this place. Why question her ability now?”
“I am questioning nothing about her talents.”
“So why test us both?”
He relaxed the way he always did when I finally asked the right question. “The school will be in fine hands with the two of you. By now, I am certain of that.”
My own shoulders dropped, finally at ease with the way the conversation was going. “So Lara Chandler isn't getting the normal lesson plan.”
“Natalia is right about you.” He flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette, right into a crystal tray fit for a museum. “You are smarter than you act.”
I didn't quite take it as a compliment, but you valued whatever seemed like kind words you could scavenge around them. Living and working around people with brutal, unfiltered honesty takes a thick hide and a strange kind of skill. You could almost call it refreshing after dealing with fake niceties your entire life, assuming you can get used to it.
“So tell me,” my grandfather started in again, “was I wrong for taking his money?”
The right side of my mouth bunched up as I thought about what he was really asking me. I came back with the most valuable question I had learned here. “What's the part you left out?”
“This moron thinks that because I am wealthy and Russian, supporting us is a wise campaign move.”
I won't get into my own political opinions here, but it was odd how members of one party suddenly cozied up to our family, as if the decades of suspicion never happened. I just nodded, expecting another diatribe from my grandfather about how similar corrupt politicians are in Russia and America.
He pleasantly surprised me by getting to the point. “What he does not know is that I refuse to give his daughter the standard curriculum.”
“I actually agree with that.” Lara wasn't the rebellious, spiteful kind of girl we usually dealt with. “The last thing she needs is to be taught how to be more submissive and mindless. The girl didn't say a word all through dinner.”
“She is a model daughter for her father.” He took another drag, holding it in longer than usual. As he talked, the curling tendrils of smoke wafted from my grandfather's mouth. “Turning her into what her father hates most is what both of them deserve.”
Among the tenets we expect our students to live up to, independence wasn't one of them. “I understand exactly what you're getting at.”
“Good.” He leaned back, ready to stare at the ceiling alone, or whatever he always did after our one-on-one meetings. “Just remember, if she is a student, she must have a bracelet. Do with that information as you see fit.”
“Nyet, this is not the house of a devil!” I was still a good thirty feet from my bedroom, but I could already hear those two having rounds with each other.
Lara's voice rattled my eardrums for the first time. “You're a sinner and a whore!” If I didn't get in there, fast, it was going to get physical. Anya didn't fuck around when a student flipped her switches.
“Po'shyol na hui, suka!” I heard rapid footsteps, and then a clinking sound. “B'lyad! Piz'da!” Anya kept throwing every obscenity out there, even ones I hadn't learned yet.
I stopped with the commotion. Something had snapped bet
ween the two, and I wasn't sure I wanted to step in the middle of the fracture. My best guess was that Anya had finally reared back and slapped Lara's face to the back of her head.
As stern as I let her be with students, I couldn't stand for hitting one of them in anger. I shoved the door with my shoulder and tromped right in. Suddenly, it wasn't Lara I had to rescue.
“Is this what you do here? Let staff shout at students?” Lara stood in the middle of the room, somehow triumphant. Her calf-length skirt ended in a leg, leading to a flat resting on the chain between a pair of cuffs.
For the first and only time I'd ever seen it, Anya's face dripped with shame. Still in the same blue dress as before, she didn't say a word to explain it. Without knowing how it happened, I had no idea what kind of girl I was dealing with.
“So,” my eyebrows almost hit my hairline, “I guess I missed something.”
“Your wife tried to handcuff me.” As she tended to do with students who get out of line during a lesson, or to the ones looking for extra credit. “My daddy'll sue the daylights out of this place and have you shut down.”
“Calm down.” I had one of the bracelets in my pocket, but I knew this would be a teachable moment for Anya. “When an instructor tells you to do something here, don't question them. Trust me.”
“Trust you? Why would she even do that?”
Probably to see if you're still a virgin. “You picked up moves like that somewhere. Do all of the senators' kids get training?”
“Some of us take martial arts when we're young.”
That's how that happened. Good to know before I try something. “I'm impressed. Can you show me that move?”
Anya's face glowed red like a forge as Lara showed me how she had pivoted as soon as Anya grabbed her wrist, transitioning into an armlock with just enough pressure to get the point across. “The trick is using their own strength against them.” I quickly realized how vulnerable I had just made myself.
“You're an interesting one. I don't even know if I could handle Anya in a fight.” I really didn't. My wife knew her place as my assistant, and as a bracelet-bearer, but I figured she could toss a slobber-knocker of a punch if she needed to. “Care to let me try?”
Lara eased her grip on my wrist. “Promise you won't try to put a pair of cuffs on me?”
“Do I look like I have any?”
“Fair enough.” She let go completely. “Alright,” she stepped around to my front, “when I grab your wrist, pull and straighten my elbow.”
I looked down, seeing the trace of a smirk in Anya's lips as I followed Lara's instructions. “Like this?”
“Good, now step beside me and wrap your arm around mine.” We followed through the motions as I pulled the bracelet out of my pocket with my free hand. “Now when I elbow behind me with my other arm—”
She never got that far, relaxing for a fraction of a second, and then collapsing to the floor as the golden light from the band flooded the room. I let her be, stepping to Anya. As Lara started writhing in agony from the copper magic's initiation, I pulled my wife up by the arms.
“I never thought I'd see the day.”
“Shut up.” Anya was already turning for me to do something about her predicament. “The key is in my nightstand.”
“Special orders for this one.” I gave her a quick pat on the small of her back. “I hope you understand.”
“Suka p'oshel nak'huy uyebok!”
I translated her words in the most deadpan manner I could. “Bitch motherfucker, fuck you... Really?”
“You know I have to be strong in front of the students.”
“Well, you just fucked that up, didn't you?”
“I...” She knew I was right. “I want to prove it will not happen again.”
Not throwing Anya's pet peeve in her face felt like a shame. Digging my fingertips into her ribs, just below her armpits, I had her wriggling on her feet. “Too bad, you've got your own instructions for this one.”
“Hui!” Anya stayed bent at the waist. “You know I hate that.”
“It's not like I tickle you like that when you're wearing cuffs in bed. Come on, just admit you fucked up and we can move on.”
Anya straightened herself and tilted her head at me. “You are pushing it, Alexei.”
“Good.” It's about then that I noticed Lara pulling herself up to her hands and knees. “It's gonna get pushed further, and you'll fucking like it.”
“No, I can not let a student get the upper-hand. All of them will see it as weakness.”
I shook my head and reached a hand down for Lara. Pulling her up, I forced her to stand in front of Anya, Lara's forehead even with my wife's chin. “I'm supposed to teach this one, so let's consider her an intern.”
“The old man has lost his mind.” Anya started to take a step back, until I grabbed her by the upper arms. “You can not teach Lara what I can teach.”
“I'm not supposed to. Old man's orders.”
“You do not know what he is asking.”
Lara started coming to, holding her wrist, exactly where the band was doing it's magic. Her voice was nowhere near as brash as before. “Where are my parents?”
Anya couldn't hide the spite any longer. “They dumped you here, so that my husband can prove he is a fool.”
Is that jealousy in her voice? “What Anya means is, 'You're here so you can pursue your dreams, instead of your father's plans for you.'”
“You mean,” Lara whipped around, barely keeping herself from hugging me around my neck, “I can go to nursing school?”
This poor fucking kid. “If that's what you want, then yeah.”
Lara's mind tried to process it, but she just couldn't understand the sudden reversal of her fortune. “No no, no. I'm supposed to go to a private Christian college and meet my future husband. My father would never stand for this.”
“He's the one who put you here.”
“You mean daddy's letting me do what I choose for myself?”
Anya couldn't resist butting in again. “Not exactly.”
Lara was already back in that state of delirium. “Why is that lady in handcuffs? What's going on?”
It was time for a little reprogramming. “Lara, look at me.” I stepped in front of her, “Right here. Hey!”
“I don't even know where I'm at.”
A quick snap of my fingers had her back on track. “Listen, you're going to follow your own path now. What your father wants for you is not in your best interests, and you know it.”
She nodded, the faintest hint of a smile drawing across her lips.
“You are at Smolensky Finishing Academy for the rest of this year, and then the next, but not as a traditional student.”
“So why am I here?”
“Think of it as an internship. As the next headmaster, I need a helper to get settled in.” I put my hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair just a bit. “The current headmaster and I chose you for the honor.”
“So I answer to you?”
“Exactly.” It was time to drive the thumbscrews in. “You answer only to myself and the current headmaster, and nobody else while you're here.”
Anya could handle that last part. “This is unacceptable, Alexei!” My wife forced herself between us as best she could, not having use of her hands and all that. “You would put this, child, above my rank?”
“Technically, she's a grown woman,” I patted Anya's forehead in the most patronizing way I could, “and you'll just have to deal with it.”
My wife glared from within inches of Lara's face. “I will never take orders from you.”
This might be crazy enough to work. “Lara, I've already got a job for you.”
“Yes, sir?”
Sir? I like it. “We expect discipline and obedience from our students, but it looks like our star teacher has forgotten that they apply to her as well.”
Anya tried barging her way through and past us. A quick snatch at the chain linking her wrists put and end to that. Of
course, Anya being Anya, rose her shoulders in defiance.
“Where the hell do you think you're going?” I forced her to turn back around. “It's your fault you ended up like this.”
“What my husband means,” it was like Anya was trying to downplay my authority, “is that he enjoys pranks and testing new people.”
That tears it. “Lara,” I meant it to sound like an order, “molest this bitch until she cracks.”
“Mudila yobaniy, yebat tya v'rot!” Anya tensed up like a spitting cat as soon as Lara's hand grabbed her ass. “Yob tvoyu mat!”
“That's not quite enough,” I knew I'd be teaching this sheltered girl how to do all kinds of degrading things before the night ended, “do the unthinkable to her.” I motioned toward the dresser where Anya kept her favorite 'toys.'
“Yes, sir.” Lara was already making me proud.
“Here, let's make it easier.” I jerked my head toward the dresser again. “Get a few more pairs of cuffs out of there.”
I marched Anya to the foot of the bed and forced her to bend over. The zipper split from the top of her neck, gliding all the way down her back with just the stroke of my finger. I forced the dress off her shoulders, jerking the sleeves down her arms until the cuffs blocked the way.
Tangled up in her own dress, Anya knew well enough to stay still while I got the universal key for all of her restraints. Even that stubborn bitch knew fighting back would only make it worse. It wasn't quite hatred in her eyes, but some spark of resistance glared back as I got back to her.
Lara had done exactly as told, dropping at least six pairs of cuffs on the mattress. Stainless steel, pink, fuzzy, leopard print. You name the finish, Anya probably had it.
I unlocked the set of cuffs, not completely sure I wouldn't get a jaw-cracking slap. “Now,” I pulled Anya back up by the nape, “take everything off.”
She kicked herself out of her heels, and then let the dress fall around her ankles. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, because of fucking course she wasn't. Anya considered any kind of underwear the top layer of an outfit, only.
I couldn't help admiring my wife, naked as Eve, sexy enough to ruin all advice about personality being superior, and mad as hell. My hands drifted along her body from breasts to between her legs. “I really should humiliate her more often.”