"Bacon...?"
Did Samantha's mom have a cook?
Or had I neglected to ask, when told by the girls that Sam's mom wouldn't be home... and hadn't been home... when she would come home?
I think I should have considered that important.
If it was her,.. Sam's mother... the supposed "Escort....," what the fuck was I supposed to do now?
She had to have looked around the house, since my car was parked in front, knowing that Kim would try to talk me into letting Sam come with us... and found the three of us naked on her family room pullout bed.
So why the bacon?
Had she brought someone home herself?
Lots of thinking and questions... and unless I got out of the bed, I'd get none of them answered.
So, I, as quietly as possible, disengaged myself from the girls, got up and looked around for my clothes. My pants and boxers were on a chair, my shoes next to the pants... but my shirt was nowhere to be found. Then I spotted it, under the metal bar that supported the middle of the sofa bed. No way I could retrieve it, without waking the girls.
So shirtless... and more than likely looking like something the cat dragged in... I followed the scent of the sizzling bacon into the kitchen.
Well... there wasn't any hired help at the stove, or a stranger sitting at the table. There was, however, a rather attractive blond, from the rear, wearing a white satin, shorty housecoat, oven mittens and holding tongs, standing at the stove, turning the delicious smelling meat.
Okay, now what?
Taking a big breath, and ready to take whatever she would dish out, I said, "Good morning."
Turning, as if she'd expected the greeting, she smiled...
... and I thought, "Nineteen."
"Hi," still wearing the smile, "hungry?"
I hadn't thought about that, more worried about her calling the cops than my appetite.
"Coffee to your right and juice in the fridge," as she turned back to the stove.
My opinion, when first seeing her picture in the "Personals," section of the Phoenix, had been, "She looks like she could be Samantha's older sister."
That appraisal was now confirmed.
But, pouring myself a cup of coffee, the most important thing I needed to know was... why had she allowed all of this? Was she that permissive?
Walking over to her, leaning back against the counter to her left, far enough away that I wouldn't get spattered by the hot grease, I got her attention, tipped the cup at her and introduced myself.
Politely, she waved the tongs at me and said, "Madison."
As stated, when Sam had come running down the stairs to greet Kim and I, the previous evening, I'd thought she was Samantha little sister. That was how much her looks had changed since I first met her. Once she was made up and dressed to go out, I recognized her from the dance, but I easily could have been convinced she was fourteen or fifteen years old.
That said, her mother could have introduced herself as, "... Sam's older sister Maddy... I'm nineteen..." and I would have believed her too.
"Man," I thought to myself, "you're getting old."
But I also thought, "Alright, things have gone well so far... so it's time to get out of here!"
That's when Maddy asked, "Did you lose your shirt?"
Awkward pause before I answered, "Not lost... just stuck under the sleeper. Didn't want to disturb the girls, so..."
She laughed and shook her head.
Then she moved her left, stood on her toes and reached with oven mittened hand up to my shoulder and said, "How gallant of you."
I just shrugged... because I remembered that I drove Kim here last night, so I had to drive her back to her car. Why hadn't I done that when we returned from Connecticut?
I really hadn't thought I'd end up spending the night with Kim, never mind both girls, especially at Sam's house.
So, when the "Eggs or Pancakes," question was asked, I smiled and answered, "Both if you're up to it."
It occurred to me at that moment, I might want to ask, "Now... before you start cooking... tell me what's really going on here."
That, however, might have been a mistake, because, as my lawyer friends always tell me, "Never ask a question, that you don't already know the answer to."
So, I rattled on about the events of the day, never telling her where I'd taken the girls, or how the evening had gone, relying on them to amuse her with the details.
I had no idea what they'd tell her regarding our ending up naked on her sleep sofa?
And I didn't wait for the girls to wake up before leaving. Maddy would explain and drop Kim at her car. And at some point, I'd get my shirt back.
That took over a month... but the eggs and pancakes were delicious.
Meanwhile...
I spent the weekend with the family, had a great time with granddaughter Alexis, showing her how to catch minnows with a bottle and some bread and was back at work on Monday morning, catching up on everything I'd been neglecting since I'd started the liaison with Kim... and her mother had pulled the crazy Don and Sean fiasco.
Halfway through the correspondences that had piled up on my desk, my receptionist buzzed me. "There's a Vanessa on the phone, says she represents something called, "Mia Creations," and would appreciate an appointment with you. Would you like to speak to her?"
"Mia Creations?"
Was it possible that this was some sort of ruse to get, "The Mia," that had disappeared over a year earlier, in touch with me?
Going along with it, I asked, "Did she give any indication what kind of "Creations," she's talking about?"
"Sorry, that was all she said."
With a practiced sigh, I said, "Okay, put her on."
A few minutes later I had a phone number and an address in the Boston area, along with a plea to, "Call that number as soon as you can. Mia is in trouble and she doesn't trust anyone but me and you."
As always, I heard my long-departed father's deadpan voice, "... you and I."
I went into the bathroom to make the call.
At 1:00 PM, I was parked in front of a large Victorian house in a notoriously wealthy suburb of Boston, helping Mia pack all of her possessions into the back of my Escalade. An hour later, we reversed the process, as Mia directed me to Vanessa's apartment in Providence, another Victorian house... in a not so opulent neighborhood. But it was neat, well-furnished and squeaky clean.
While all of this was happening, and on the drive in between, I got the story as to what and why.
If it was all true, and to this day I have no reason to doubt her, Mia's fourteen months living with Marie were a dream... wrapped in a nightmare.
Marie was a divorcee, with two minor children. When Mia was introduced into the household, it was as an "Au Pair," someone to take care of the children as Marie's Real Estate business flourished. Marie still had her, "Dominatrix," business in the City, and she and her lover Adam were still an item, but Mia was minimally involved in any of that.
Then, after three months of balancing her college education, taking care of the kids, housework, cooking and sleeping with Marie, things changed.
Marie and Adam attended a "Fetish Flea," in Las Vegas, which is a gathering of people interested and practiced in both the industries that support these individuals, as well as those looking for something "new," in the lifestyle.
When they returned, they'd found a few, "new," things that had garnered their attention... and all of which involved Mia. They also wanted to devote more time to each other, along with expanding both Marie's Real Estate agency, and her side business.
The first was an easy one: Marie would teach Mia how to prepare all of the paperwork to submit to the bank, as her Real Estate customers applied for a mortgage. This would include all of the "Purchase & Sale Agreements," then the "Closing Documents," which were needed by both the bank and the buyers. Mia had no problem with that since it could all be done in her off hours.
What really caused a problem was Marie starting to incorporate Adam into her relationship with Mia.
"At first, I just took it as part of the growth in her dependence on him in their affair. I wanted Marie to be happy so when he got into bed with us for the first time, I kind of looked at it like it would be the same as you, Elle and I... a fun threesome where we could all have a good time. But then I learned very quickly that there was nothing fun about sex with Adam. It was all about his building a solid wall of dominance over anyone involved, and that included me... especially me. But that wasn't what was surprising. I knew Marie was completely under his control. But I thought her feelings for me would, somehow, protect me. Over the past year, he physically abused me to the point where I'd sometimes have to leave and go to Vanessa's apartment for a few days to recover. But what finally caused me to break off my relationship with Marie..." as tears formed in her eyes, "was last Saturday, when he tied me to his discipline table...," her voice breaking, "... and allowed two of his friends rape me and fuck my ass..." as she completely broke down.
I pulled over and consoled her as best I could, waiting for her to recover.
It took a few minutes.
I didn't ask her about calling the police... because this was the lifestyle she'd chosen. I didn't ask about the details of the "rape," or how Adam or Marie had reacted to that outrage. I just wondered how I might, somehow, get retribution for her.
Once she'd settled down, I continued our drive to Providence. The question I did ask was, "So where do you go from here?"
"First," she said, "I'm going to my doctor because Adam told those two monsters not to worry about protection, "... because she's clean."
"Fuckers didn't even lube themselves... just got it hard and stuck it in me. It hurt like hell and I'll never forget it. And I'll never let it happen again!"
"Did Marie know about it?" I asked.
"Of course," Mia answered, "and when you got to the house... I called her and told her to tell Adam that she'd be glad to take my place and let his friends fuck her ass anytime they wanted."
She was quiet for a while and then looked at me and promised she would continue with her education but switch to become a "Business Administration" major, finding her own living arrangements, and "... letting you take me to lunch whenever you have free time."
"That'll work," I replied with a smile.
She didn't promise anything more than that.
