Chapter 1
The Crucible
Tonight's the night
, she thought, nervous as hell.
Rachel looked at herself in the mirror as she finished blow drying her hair. She didn't like what she saw, but that was part of the reason she was here. Average height, average brown hair. A couple people had complimented her on her big brown eyes, but she saw them as just... Average.
She unwrapped the towel around her as she set the hairdryer down. She frowned. She was fat. By her judgement, way too fat. Her pale skin showed rolls of fat where there shouldn't be. That was one of the reasons Josh had dumped her, wasn't it?
She leaned on the counter, staring at her face, breathing in, holding it, breathing out. Just the way Khan had shown her.
You can always breathe,
he said
. Control that, whenever you get anxious. Breath is Life. Control your breath, control your life.
She breathed again. If it was that easy, she thought, I wouldn't be here.
She reached for the robe Kayden had presented her with after dinner. Just a simple, white terrycloth robe, like you would steal from a fancy hotel. She had been told to meet them down in the study, precisely at seven, wearing this. Wearing only this. Her first robe for her first Crucible.
"Hell with it," she said to her reflection. "You want this, then you fucking do it. The struggle makes you stronger." She unfolded the robe with a flourish, settled it around her and pulled it together with an air of determination.
It didn't fit.
That blonde bitch
, she thought as she checked the tag. Medium. She had specifically told her a Large. That was just mean. She cinched the just too small robe around her just too large body with the sash, Her D cup boobs poking out the front some. Then she picked up her glasses. Wait, glasses, no glasses? She fidgeted for a bit, taking them on and off. They had said the Crucible was a test. Maybe there was a written. She better take them. Putting them on, she stepped out of her own modest bath into the hall.
She looked left, at the solid door with the two key locks. The one she heard Khan and Kayden fucking in last Tuesday. Her room was just across the attic hall, a small uninsulated thing that probably started life as a storage closet. Straight out of the new Harry Potter movie, like the room under the stairs. This last week of March had been wicked cold at night, but Khan said enduring some cold would kick start her metabolism. The struggle makes you stronger. It occurred to her that tonight, Sunday night, was April first. If this Crucible thing was an April Fool's joke, she would never forgive them. She turned right, crossing the large dance room, which was just unfinished drywall at this point. The Stones had just finished having their dream mansion built last fall, and some things were still left to be done.
Rachel thought about how she had met the power couple as she descended the gorgeous wrought iron spiral stair that led down the turret to the second floor. They had moved into her neighborhood five years ago, when she was 14. Just another young couple starting out in another 2 bedroom starter home, just like so many others in her subdivision. But these two were anything but normal. They got set up fast, and in just a few weekends, the wooden privacy fence went up around the yard. The front got new retaining walls. Suddenly the place looked fresh and had curb appeal. Not only were they always busy, but they were always friendly, talking to neighbors when the moment presented itself. Always busy, always on the hustle, they had quickly upgraded their lifestyle. They had their dream mansion built from the ground up last year, and now the old house was a renter. Rachel, meanwhile, was still stuck in her Mom's basement, trapped by a part time job into not even being able to afford an apartment. Moving in here was truly a life changer.
She stepped off the spiral stair, looking down the long central hall that connected the four bedrooms on this floor. It pissed her off that her room was so far from everything else, a shitty little room two flights up. So many stairs. She passed the two bedrooms on her left that were completely empty, and the one on her right that was done up nicely as a guest bedroom. They could have let her sleep there, on that big ass four poster with its own little bathroom, but that was for guests, they said. She was not their guest.
She was their Apprentice.
The hallway was chilly, and she wrapped the robe as best she could around her as she went past the master bedroom at the top of the main stairway. She was never allowed in there. She had listened at the door, though. She blushed at the memory of listening to the couple's lovemaking. Spirited, noisy, slappy lovemaking. She slowed down, then stopped at the top of the stairs. She was nervous, excited, afraid. It felt like standing at the top of a high dive. She felt ridiculous in the robe.
I'm not going to be able to pull this off. I'm not good enough. I won't measure up.
She heard her own inner voice of doubt blaring like always. But underneath, in his deep, confident voice, she heard Khan.
You have the potential to be great, Rachel. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't have asked you to move in with us. To learn from us. But you have to believe it too. You have to take that first step.
Rachel deliberately put one foot forward and started down the stairs. She ran her hand down the rich, dark wooden bannister as she descended the wide stair, feeling like a princess or a Southern belle going to a ball. Though brand new, the house had been built with a flair for the old, and some pieces were actually Victorian work that Khan had salvaged from the houses he flipped.
She reached the bottom of the stair, then turned with her back to the front entrance. The study was down this last hall on the ground floor. The Crucible. She stood there, indecisive. What the hell were they going to do to her? They had been vague, just saying she would be held accountable for her actions this week. Ever since she had got up the nerve to talk to her new neighbors as a teenager looking for lawnmowing money, she had always been a little scared of Khan and Kayden Stone. And a little turned on. Sometimes more than a little. Of both.
She looked right, into the parlor where they had spent several evenings talking about the books they were having her read, and to the left, to the media room with the huge TV where she was also not allowed without permission. Nothing else for it, she forced her fidgety hands to her side and walked down the long black and white tiled hallway to the back of the house. The double pocket doors to her right were open into the kitchen. The matching wood doors to the study to her left were closed. Should she knock? Just go in? Hesitantly, she knocked on the heavy doors.
"Come in Rachel. Close the door behind you, please." Khan's voice was deep, and rich, and always gave her goosebumps. She walked slowly across the thick green carpet of the study, taking in the sight. It was warm in here. The lights had been turned off, and four kerosene lamps around the room had been lit. That, and the light from the fireplace, was the only light, throwing enough to see, but still made everything dark and mysterious as the flames danced. Khan and Kayden stood before the hardwood mantel, silhouetted by the fire. They wore robes as well, but theirs were made of silk. Khan's robe was as black as his hair and beard, while Kayden's was a bright red. She reached a hand out for Rachel's and drew her in to them.
"You look wonderful, dear," Kayden beamed as she tucked a strand of Rachel's long hair back out of the way. "But you also look a little freaked out. Are you ready for this?"
Rachel swallowed and nodded. Khan produced a silver tray from the table with three little wine glasses.
