We'll Get Through This Together
This is not necessarily our 2020 lockdown. As with my story 'Lockdown Toy Boy,' the lockdown scenario is merely the vehicle for events to unfold. All participants in sexual activity are over the age of eighteen.
1 - Tallulah
I groaned out loud as my phone rang for the fifteenth time that day -- or was it the sixteenth? Each previous conversation had been the same and I couldn't face another. When I saw the caller id, my shoulders slumped even further. It was my employer - the woman who was paying me to look after a pack of mad, assorted canine delinquents, and in whose annex I currently resided.
I felt I should answer it and my unenthusiastic greeting must have resonated down the miles to Cape Cod. The response came back. "You sound pretty down, honey. Bit of a shock, huh?"
At least it was more of a grown-up conversation than those I'd had with my various friends. They were all worried about not being able to hang out, see their boyfriends -- or in Cassie's case, her new girlfriend -- and generally do the things that late-teenagers do.
Relieved that this call wasn't going to be full of histrionics and angst, I reassured the woman I was ok, but it had been a bit of a blow even though half-expected.
"Yeah, we felt it was coming, but like everyone else, we put our heads in the sand. Nothing we can do though, hey? From tomorrow night we're locked down and we'll just have to ride out the storm."
We went on for a few minutes in similar vein until the woman became more business-like. "So, we're cutting it short up here on the Cape. We thought about sitting it out, but those of us that work for a living need to be back in our own homes on secure lines. Ain't gonna work up here unfortunately so we are flying back early tomorrow."
She sighed. "Gonna be strange being almost quarantined in our own homes and it's going to be hard without our husbands." She let out a rueful little laugh. "Typical -- they take off for a dream holiday on the golf courses of Scotland and now they'll be holed up somewhere with no place to go and nothing to do! Never mind, we'll all be safe and we'll get by somehow!"
If it were possible, my heart sank even lower. The annex was so much nicer than my shared apartment. The girls were great, but my room was tiny and even though we all tried to be discrete when we had people back, it was impossible not to overhear things that maybe were best left unheard. Here I was free to do what I liked and in the absence of my employers, being overheard was not an issue.
And I loved the dogs and they loved me. The thought of not seeing them for however long this lockdown was going to last tore at me more than anything else. I was meant to have another week of it while Mrs. Henderson was up on the Cape, plus many more to come over the summer months as she and her husband took themselves off to various exotic destinations. Now it was being cut short and I'd be holed up in my room for the duration, unable to see anyone other than my housemates.
For a brief moment, utter despair washed over me. Then I was thrown a lifeline which I grasped at with relief and elation.
"Been thinking, honey. We're all going to be silly-busy without the men-folk, so we'll still need someone to look after the dogs. The annex is totally isolated and self-contained. We'll make it worth your while to stay on and look after Lilith's and Daisy's as well."
I suddenly found some enthusiasm for the first time that day and accepted her offer gleefully.
After a few more minutes of discussion, she signed off. "Oh well, see you tomorrow sometime, no doubt. Maybe once I'm settled back we can discuss terms over a glass of wine. And maybe think about a few other things you can do to help lighten the load for us?"
As the call ended I flopped back onto my bed, a huge grin on my face. My employer's last words rang in my ears.
"Don't worry, Tallulah. We'll get through this together!"
I loved looking after the Henderson's dogs, crazy as they were. Over the years there had been between four and six of them and the current count was five, ranging in size from a majestic Siberian Husky down to a cute-as-a-button dachshund called Slinky. In between were a black Labrador, a Collie and an adorable patchwork quilt of a mutt with bits of everything thrown in for good measure.
At first, as a new kid in town, it was a welcome distraction for me. Fitting into a new culture in a new country proved difficult, and leaving England aged fourteen had been a huge wrench for me. I loved dogs and had always been around them. Unlike in my home and school life, I felt I had friends at last and they were a great comfort to me.
Back then, the Hendersons had also recently moved to the area when they took over a high-end real estate agency run by an elderly relative who was retiring. When they began to bring the dogs to the grooming business my mother ran in the town, I started looking after them, taking them for walks while they waited their turn to be pampered. As we became more attached and the Hendersons began to trust me more, I looked after them on their frequent business and leisure trips.
When Mrs. Henderson's mother passed a couple of years later, the annex in which she lived for part of the year was unused. I was seventeen then and was deemed old enough to stay over for the odd weekend. It was ideal and I loved those heady summer days when I could roam with the dogs in the extensive grounds of Milton's Creek, the exclusive gated community in which they lived. The estate was so large there was no need to go out into the wider world.
There were open meadows, woodlands and picnic areas in the communal part of the estate and each of the eight individual properties had its own large private gardens and were far enough apart to ensure total privacy. The creek that gave the property its name flowed through the grounds like a sidewinder, segmenting each property -- some of them twice. It was crossed by pretty bridges and the area was dotted with cupolas and gazebos. It teemed with wildlife and it was a joy to be out there amongst the birds, butterflies and chipmunks.
Even Sabre the husky had plenty of room to let off steam. My heart always ached for poor little Slinky, trying to keep up with his bigger pals, his little ears trailing on the ground as his tiny legs went fifty to the dozen. His sad face always seemed to be saying, "I have to do ten steps for every one of theirs!" Although I loved them all, I seemed to form a special bond with Slinky.
When I was eighteen, I moved out of the family home into a small apartment with two other girls. It was mainly to escape my stepdad who I had never liked, but despite now being free, it was cramped and privacy was at a premium. Luckily for me, that time coincided with the Hendersons asking me to stay for longer periods. Given that their jobs took them far and wide and they had a holiday home on Cape Cod, it meant I almost spent as much time at Milton's Creek as back home.
And that was just fine by me. I had space. I could breathe. I had the dogs and I occasionally looked after a few others on the site. It was definitely a nice environment to be in.
I threw myself into a heady whirl of sexual enlightenment and soon had a small but devoted following of young men who would jump at my beck and call. I was obviously accomplished given the satisfaction they showed, but for me something was lacking. I just couldn't put my finger on it and put the absence of a spark down to waiting for 'Mr. Right'. It all became very mechanical and clinical and despite being turned on by what I was doing, there was no real 'Wow Factor' in any of it.
I tried everything to hopefully make the earth move, but almost always ended up enjoying my own ministrations more than anything I did with Luke or Chad or Mitch or any of the others.
One night, I got very drunk and poured out my soul down the phone to my friend Cassie. Two nights later, she came to hang out and brought another girl with her. It turned out to be her new girlfriend and by the time they had turned me inside out, boys were largely out of the equation. She had seen in me what I had either been to ignorant to see or too scared to admit. At last I had found my niche in life and was very happy indeed.
As I turned nineteen, things were looking up. I was making very good money as a dog-sitter, there was a long summer ahead of me before I decided what to do with my life, and most of it would be spent in a very nice exclusive community with a few adorable pooches.
Then the damned virus hit us.
That first morning was like a nightmare come true. I felt like I was in the first few scenes of a Sci-fi or Horror movie as realisation dawned. Cassie had not only turned me onto girls, but also the writings of Stephen King.
The Stand
had gripped me from start to finish, with its tale of a disease-ravaged USA at the mercy of the devil incarnate. As the news sunk in, I envisaged me, nineteen-year-old Tallulah Hendricks, fighting off Randall Flagg and his cohorts with three thoroughbreds, a mongrel and a brave little sausage-dog called Slinky.
Then reality dawned and Mrs. Henderson called to say they were coming home early. When she asked me to stay on, I was so thrilled I almost cried. I'd have the grounds to roam in, and the dogs to look after. If I needed to fight off Randall Flagg, at least I'd have loyal allies.
I would lose my 'visitors rights', but that wasn't so bad - there were plenty of other ways to keep myself satisfied for the duration.
Even so, I decided on one last fling. I drove back to my apartment, grabbed all the gear that would fit into my little car and dragged Fliss back with me for a last tumble before we were all put into isolation.
I sighed with contentment as she left. I had no idea when my next intimate contact would be, but at least I would be relatively safe and comfortable.
A day later, my world and my life were changed forever when Mrs. Henderson arrived home and told me to call her Faye.
