Chapter 3: Home Invasion (lol)
This chapter's returning cast:
Casey Connelly:
our wayward protagonist. 22. A tall and slim young man with a freckled face and auburn curls. He is wearing a baseball tee, green on top, and a slim-fitting pair of blue jeans.
Meredith Montblanc:
his government-mandated disciplinarian, or "minder", 34. A handsome woman of middling height, with short black hair and a dusky complexion. She is wearing a blue sleeveless dress ending at her knees, with a matching mantle over her shoulders for warmth on this spring day. Her belt is thin and red, matched to her handbag.
Casey Connelly was not, at this point in his life, a thoughtful person. If he had been, he might have seen how dramatically appropriate his current actions were. In his short time as an adult, he had only ever cleaned of his own volition when a girl was coming over. Here he was, picking up laundry and empty glasses, and yes, a woman was certainly coming over! Only
this
woman had spanked him to tears 3 days ago for just such a lifestyle.
She was his Minder—a federally appointed guardian for young adults who'd been deemed "irresponsible". His first encounter with her had been rough, sure. But if life had taught Casey anything, it was that he could inevitably charm any authority figure. The young man's less than stellar academic career was a tale of smitten teachers, flattered TA's, and amiable professors. Casey learned enough to pass, or at least got to the point where a biased individual would decide to rule in his favor. Everyone wanted to indulge the pretty boy whose parents were busy doing "moon project stuff". This method had served him well enough, because life was for living! Who had time for homework, housework, all that nonsense? He passed the handsome devil in the mirror as he emptied the overflowing bathroom garbage and winked in confidence. This woman's visit today was Step One in the new phase of his life.
He was going to break through to Meredith Montblanc. In the end, she'd just be another pushover like the rest.
The door buzzer rang as he was fixing his hair. His watch said 10:00 AM, the exact time she'd informed him she would be arriving. Damn, this lady was punctual! He fixed his shirt, content to let her wait outside a moment longer, before making his way assuredly down the stairs.
With a hand on the door, he coached himself onward.
Project confidence, smile, don't let her think you're afraid.
Nodding to no one, he turned and opened out to the street. All he saw on the street was a single large suitcase and a chair. He peeked his head out the door, confused and searching for meaning in this strange turn of events. Head tilted left, he finally saw her.
Meredith Montblanc had her own head tilted up, hand blocking the morning sun from her eyes, as she examined the exterior of his building. Her face was beaming with an enthusiastic smile, and Casey had to admit she was a distracting beauty. Her vivid blue dress and passionate demeanor had caught the attention of many inside the ground floor coffee shop.
She finally decided to notice him. "Lovely brick work in this facade. Pre-war, isn't it?" she asked.
Casey was taken aback by the subject matter. "Uh, I think so. I definitely know it's old." he stammered out, before remembering he needed to project confidence. "I can ask the landlord about it if you'd like," he offered, ever the gentleman. Perfect, this was going well after all.
She put her hands on her hips, squinting upwards for one last moment, before gathering herself and closing the distance to the apartment. The coffee shop audience was clearly disappointed.
"Oh no bother, I'll just ask William about it myself," she replied offhandedly, picking up the suitcase and brushing past him. Did she just casually name drop his landlord? Casey's face screwed up, but before he could inquire, she was already ascending the stairs.
"Do bring the chair up, Casey," she said without looking back.
Casey took a minute to collect his jaw from the floor, and realized that he recognized the chair outside his door. It was the same high-backed, armless number that she had in her office, or at least a replica. The one she had sat down in before she turned him, naked, over her knee to be spanked. His face burned at the memory, and he had to force himself to pick up the wicked seat.
He carried this burden up the stairs to his second-floor apartment. Meredith was already inside as he pulled the chair into his living room. He shifted his feet for a moment as she wandered the 2-bedroom domicile with raised eyebrows. He chose to take that as a sign she was impressed. The suitcase was on his coffee table, yet unopened. He knew she wasn't staying, so what was with the luggage?
"What a lovely place," Meredith spoke pleasantly. "Great lighting, so much pre-war charm." Her disposition was sincere and kind. When she turned to face him, it shifted suddenly to withering disdain. "Such a pity you keep it like this."
Casey blanched as she said that, almost stuttering a response. She didn't give him any time to do so, however, placing her hands on her hips.
"Clothes off, young man. Add them to one of these various piles of laundry you have strewn about. You deserve to be embarrassed, thinking this was clean enough. And for a visit you knew was coming, no less!" she said, the cold edge fully back in her voice.
Stomach sinking, teeth gritting, Casey removed his shirt. How did this turn around so fast? He could have sworn this was going well! He began to notice the things she was talking about as he undid his pants, a feeling of dread crawling across him. A rare thought occurred to him at that moment: maybe he had made a mistake.
Meredith moved to the suitcase, opening it as Casey undressed. She turned a searching eye towards his closet and opened it. A pile of further laundry and sundry mess fell out. After shooting a knowing look at the boy currently removing his jeans, she turned and reached into the poorly organized milieu.
