Best Served Cold

After their divorce was finalized through lengthy arbitration, Charlie and Maureen had not spoken for more than a year, except with respect to matters concerning the logistics of raising three teenage children.

In the settlement, Maureen hired an amazing, take-no-prisoners lawyer. He fought like hell, and she got almost everything: the kids, the house, the retirement account. Charlie ended up with precious little: a barely running Honda Accord, his hand tools, and a fare thee well. He was bitter, but not so bitter as to ignore the great breath of fresh air that being single brought him.

Maureen's phone call to Charlie that spring weekend morning came out of the blue.

"Hello?" Charlie answered.

"Hi, it's me," Maureen said flatly, with an edge of nervousness.

"Hi Maureen, What's up?" Charlie replied. "Are the kids OK?"

"They're fine," Maureen replied. The line went silent for a few moments as each of them thought about what to say next.

Charlie pressed on, "So, what's up then, Maureen? I sent the May child support check out last week. You should have it by now."

"Yes, I got it. Thanks," Maureen replied. "That's not why I'm calling. I'm calling because I may need your help."

Charlie was surprised. First, he was certain that he would be the last person on earth that Maureen would ask for help after their horrible breakup. And second, even when they were together Maureen would almost never ask him for help. She was just too damn stubborn.

He prodded her, "Help with what?"

"Do you remember that cruise we took to the islands with the kids in 2010?" Maureen asked.

"Sure, nice trip," Charlie replied. "The kids were still young enough to be thrilled by unlimited soft-serve ice cream, and you and I were getting along pretty well. If I remember correctly, it was the first vacation we had since you started with the new firm."

"It was a good time," Maureen concurred. "And long overdue. You and I needed the time together. The thing is, Charlie, I was relatively new at the marketing business at that time. And the way I saw it, this kind of vacation was a perk that a marketing director was entitled to."

"I couldn't agree more," Charlie said. "So, we took a nice, well-earned vacation. What about it?"

"Well," Maureen muttered, "as it turns out, I may have charged that trip to the company. And now they've done an audit. And the accounting firm doing the audit is asking a bunch of questions."

Charlie asked "Why did you charge the trip to the company, Maureen? Was it an accident, like you used the wrong card? I'm sure that you can just explain it was a mistake."

Maureen paused before answering, "Yeah, I could do that, but in my expense report I justified it as client entertainment, and I even went so far as to name the client, your friend Bob Bucklin. The stateroom we got for the kids I listed under his name, and the stateroom we got for us I listed under mine."

"Jesus Christ, Maureen, why would you do that?" Charlie asked. "What were you thinking?"

"Apparently, I wasn't really thinking," Maureen confessed. "Those cruise tickets were so expensive. At the time, we were trying to put together a college fund. I had a nearly unlimited expense account at the company. The same company from which I hadn't had a break in two years. Eighty-hour weeks. They owed me. That's what I was thinking. I know it was stupid. And now, the auditor wants to talk to Bob Bucklin to confirm that this was a legitimate business expense."

"Why would you put Bob's name on the expense report?" Charlie pressed

"Because he ran that machining business, and our company was buying up mom and pop operations like his at a wild clip in those days," Maureen replied.

"Holy shit, Maureen," Charlie declared. "You deliberately misled them on the expense report?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Maureen replied.

"And now they want to interview Bob about a cruise he never took! And if they find that out, you are toast," Charlie summarized.

"Exactly," Maureen said.

A smile came to Charlie's face. He was glad that Maureen couldn't see it. "So, Maureen, how does this involve me?"

Maureen sensed the coldness in Charlie's response but ignored it in a play for compassion. "Charlie, you and Bob are best friends. You can ask him to cover for me. It won't cost him anything, and it will get me out of a tight spot."

Charlie felt a surge of anger. "It won't cost him anything? It sounds like you want him to commit perjury at the very least! Where do you get off with that kind of nonsense?!"

Maureen tried to remain calm. "I'm desperate, Charlie. This is a routine inquiry, though, and nothing will come of it if Bob just says that we went on a cruise, and then we decided to part ways without doing business together."

"You really take the cake," Charlie replied. "I'm surprised at you. I've held low opinions about some of the things you've done and said, especially to me, but I never thought you were a grifter. This is so unlike you."

Maureen's desperation deepened. "It was a one-time mistake, and I'm ashamed of myself. But everything I have is at stake. I'll be fired, and maybe fined or even jailed if this goes sideways. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, of course I don't," Charlie confirmed. "But I'm not a big fan of yours right now."

"Yes, I get it," Maureen replied. "And I'm sorry. But I'm begging you to help me. I know Bob would do this for you."

The phone went silent for almost thirty seconds, while both Charlie and Maureen thought about how to end this misguided call with some grace. Charlie had an epiphany in the last few moments of that silence.

"You know what, Maureen?" he said, "You're right. I could get Bob on board. But then you've got to do something for me in return."

"What is it you want?" Maureen asked with suspicion.

Charlie took a breath and then made his play, "Truthfully, Maureen, I'm still plenty angry with you over the divorce. You know that. You cheated on me, and yet somehow I wound up looking like the deadbeat bad guy to our friends and family. What I want is to get back some of the mojo I lost in that lopsided battle."

Maureen replied, barely covering her impatience, "I hear you. I'm sorry our divorce got so ugly, and I accept that some part of that was my fault. But that's water under the bridge, Charlie. We can't undo it."

"I don't want to undo it, Maureen," Charlie said. "But you dragged me through the mud. I want you to feel what that's like."

Maureen knew that Charlie was still sore about the divorce. And he was right about the facts. It had been she who had cheated. Her divorce attorney set out to win at all costs, and one of those costs was to systematically attack Charlie using some questionable tactics. It didn't surprise Maureen that Charlie sill harbored some raw feelings about all that. But it was a divorce, right? Feelings get hurt and you move on. Apparently not yet, though, for her ex.

"I'm not saying your feelings aren't valid, but I think it might be more productive if we focus on what I can say or do to get your support."

"You want focus?" Charlie replied. "OK, focus on this. I want you to come to my house one Saturday each month for the next year, and to be my maid for the day. Clean up my house, do my laundry, shine my shoes, fix my meals. All while wearing that sexy French maid outfit you used to tease me with."

"Wow!" Maureen replied, a bit stunned. "That is one seriously messed up revenge fantasy." She paused just briefly, before making a snap decision. "But you know what? If it will help you get over your anger and it will get you to talk with Bob, then yeah, I'll play along by cleaning your house and doing your laundry once a month for a year. But let me be clear: I am not wearing a French maid outfit. That's just a little too perverted."

Charlie shrugged, "I'll own up to being a pervert. But as you might imagine, being called one by you makes me even less inclined to help you out of your embezzlement problem. I'll tell you what. You don't have to wear the French maid outfit. Instead, you can do your maid service in the nude."

"Charlie," Maureen replied. "Don't be an idiot."

"An idiot? Really?" Charlie responded incredulously. "You think condescending is a good strategy here?"

"I'm not condescending," Maureen countered. "But we have to differentiate between reality and fantasy."

Charlie continued unabated. "You know what? While you're with me on those Saturdays, providing me naked maid service, I'll want you to agree to satisfy what will undoubtedly be my heightened libido. Shall we say with a hummer?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Charlie. Stop it." Maureen demanded. "That is just ridiculous. You're embarrassing yourself."

Charlie replied, calmly, "It's not ridiculous, Maureen, it's fair. My offer for you to provide maid service was what I considered a fair exchange for what you asked of me. You made a big ask and I offered you a little embarrassing task as payback. Then you, my thief of an ex-wife, insulted me, twice, so I raised the stakes. It is what I would call a justifiable response."

Charlie let those words sink in before concluding, "And then you called me ridiculous! I'm going to make it simple for you. Bob and I will bail you out. In exchange, once a month, you'll come to my house on a Saturday morning, and you will be my naked slave for the day. You'll do whatever I ask. Those are my non-negotiable terms. And before you even mention it: Yes, I know that I'm taking advantage of you. To me, it has a lot of parallels with the way you took advantage of me in our divorce proceedings. Remember how you got exactly what you wanted? Now I'm doing the same."

Maureen was shocked and a little angry. "That's what you want? To humiliate me. I ask for your help in fixing my one mistake and you respond with an impossible-to-deliver sexual revenge fantasy?"

Charlie remained resolute. "No, I responded with an easy-to-deliver sexual revenge fantasy: All you had to do was clean my house in a French Maid outfit. You already have the outfit. You wore it in a sexy role play game with me when were together. And if you'll recall, sometimes I was a Chippendale in a reversal of those roles. So, it wasn't as crazy as you are making it out to seem. It was only your predictably nasty response that inspired me to raise the stakes. But look, we're not married. You don't owe me anything. This is a discussion to see if we can come to terms. You're free to solve your embezzlement problem in some other way that doesn't involve me."

Maureen tried to walk her anger back. "Look, fine. You made your point. I apologize for my name calling. I was just a little confused. I didn't expect you to want to embarrass me like this. But if that is the way you want to go, so be it. It's humiliating, but I'll agree to the original idea. I'll come over to your house once a month for a year to be your maid. I'll even wear the French Maid's outfit."

Charlie replied, "Um, No. That deal isn't on the table anymore. By the way, do you remember saying precisely those words to me during our arbitration?" He paused for effect. "I've told you what the terms are, and non-negotiable means just that. When I get off the phone with you, the first thing I'm going to do is call Bob. I can tell him I need his help, or I can warn him not to perjure himself. You get to decide which."

"Jesus, Charlie," Maureen said. "You're really going to do this to me?"

"You called me, remember?" Charlie responded. "You asked for help and I'm ready to give it to you. We'll fix your problem, and you'll give me the satisfaction of owning you for twelve days. And slave means slave, sister. If you agree, then you are agreeing to do as I say for the twelve days of payment. And just to be clear, yes, that includes sexual activities. And I'm going to want to get that all in writing as a binding agreement between us."

"So, what'll it be?"

Maureen was still reeling from the conversation and from the acute sting of her ex-husband's clear intention to humiliate her. She was, nevertheless, in a corner. Could she accept his awful proposal? How far would he go? "Can we discuss some limits to this proposed 'slave' fantasy activity?" she asked, politely.

"No," Charlie replied, also politely.

"Then I'll have to think about it," Maureen said, stalling. "Can I call you back tomorrow?"

"Have you been paying attention? Charlie asked, incredulously. "Tomorrow, my proposal for you is going to be much, much worse."

Maureen thought about her position. She really saw no other choice. "I suppose I'll have to take my chances with you," she said, adding, "But you're a real shit, you know that?"

"Yes, I do," Charlie laughed. "Yes, I do."

Maureen put the thought of payment out of her mind for a moment. "Call Bob. Tell him what's up and ask him to call me tonight if he agrees to help. I can then fill him in on the details."

"Oh, he'll agree to help," Charlie assured her.

"And would it be possible for you not to share with him the details of the arrangement that you and I are making?" Maureen asked.

Charlie demurred, "He might wonder why I'm helping you, since I have not been so generous in my commentary when your name comes up in our discussions."

"For the sake of the kids," Maureen said.

"Of course," Charlie replied. "For the sake of the kids. OK, fine. I won't tell him about our deal."

"Well, this call has not gone the way I imagined it might," Maureen noted.

"Right back at you, Maureen." replied Charlie cheerily. "Now I've got to go to sort out your immediate problem with Bob and the auditor."

"Uh, yeah, well, goodbye then," Maureen said tentatively.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," Charlie said, hanging up.

************************

After hearing an extremely edited version of the facts, Bob was still confused by Charlie's plan to help cover up Maureen's indiscretion. Bob had been commiserating with Charlie for more than a year about the slings and arrows that Charlie had suffered at Maureen's hands. But when Charlie mentioned that his motivation was to protect the kids, Bob took him at his word. He never balked at the idea of lying to confirm Maureen's story. Bob was that kind of friend.

For his part, Charlie let Bob know that he would be grateful and indebted to Bob for this generous support.

Bob made an appointment to have lunch with Maureen. She brought all the relevant documents, and between the two of them they concocted a cohesive story complete with a detailed itinerary and a few made up anecdotes about their interactions on the cruise.

A week later, Bob received a call from the auditor on Maureen's case. The auditor made inquiries about Bob's attendance on the cruise and his business interactions with Maureen. Bob not only confirmed his participation with conviction, but he also used his inimitable charm to befriend the unsuspecting auditor, inviting him to a golf foursome the following week.

When all of this was done, Bob reported back to both Maureen and Charlie that he had done his magic. Indeed, two days later, on a Friday afternoon, the auditor issued a clean report on all of Maureen's travel accounts.

Maureen was relieved. She called Charlie that night. He did not answer, so she left a voicemail.

"Hey, Charlie, its me." she said. "I wanted to let you know that I got the 'all clear' today from work. Thanks for your help. I'll talk to you soon."

Charlie, who had been working out at the gym, texted her after listening to the voicemail. "Glad to hear. I know the kids are with your mom this weekend. I wonder if you might help me with some cleaning at my house tomorrow?"

Maureen replied. "Hmmm. I was hoping you'd forget. No such luck, I guess. I suppose we might as well get this over with! I'll be there by about 10AM."

Charlie sent back. "Great. No need to dress up :) "

*****************

When Maureen arrived at Charlie's small ranch house, she turned off the car and steeled herself for the coming day. She knew that Charlie was going to exploit this situation with lots of gloating and little empathy. But she also knew that despite everything that had gone on between them, they had affection for one another, deep down. She was counting on that to help mitigate the otherwise inconceivable fate that awaited her.

Finally, she mustered the courage to open the car door and walk the short path to the front door. She rang the bell.

Charlie opened the door.

"Maureen," he said with enthusiasm, "so nice to see you. Do come in!"

Maureen walked past him into the foyer.

"Congratulations on getting out of your pickle," Charlie said, sincerely.

"Thanks, it is quite a relief," Maureen replied. Then she added, "I have sure learned my lesson."

"Not yet, you haven't," Charlie winked, smiling.

Maureen scowled. "So, Charlie, are we really going to go through with this?"

Charlie replied, "Oh yes, definitely. I can't remember looking forward to anything with more anticipation."

"But you'll be kind?" she asked, hopefully.

Charlie smiled. "I'll be as kind as you are obedient."

Maureen rolled her eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I'll be as kind as I think you deserve," Charlie replied. "You can leave your clothes in the guest room, down the hall, first door on the left. In the bathroom just across the hall, I've set you up with cleaning supplies: a bucket, soap, gloves, cleaning rags, etc. If there's anything else you need, let me know. My dirty clothes are in my bedroom down the hall. In the kitchen is a mop and a vacuum cleaner. I'd like you to start with the bathrooms, then mop and vacuum all floors, then do my laundry, wash, dry, fold, and put away. After that, if there's time you can do some dusting."

Maureen was a little stunned by his preparation. In truth, she expected him to forget all about the cleaning and just fuck her brains out or find some more intimately embarrassing thing to command her to do.

As if he could read her mind, Charlie added, "Oh, and after you get undressed, but before you get started with the cleaning, It's blowjob time."

Maureen smirked and rolled her eyes. "I'm not surprised."

Charlie grinned. "Good for you. Now, get going! I'll be in the living room. And just to make sure we get this slave thing off on the right foot, you'll come into that room on your hands and knees, crawling to take my cock deep into that impertinent mouth of yours. You will wear the sleep mask that you'll find on the bed. And you'll not speak unless spoken to. Understand?"

Maureen hated that Charlie was objectifying her so dispassionately and overtly. She found it outrageous and irritating. But she decided not to push the matter. "I understand."

Maureen turned and fled to the guest room. Shutting the door, she pushed herself against it and reached down in a pointless exercise to lock the door. Why had she agreed to these terms! What had she been thinking? She was going to have to find a way to cope with this humiliation at the hands of her ex.

After a few moments regaining her composure, Maureen began stripping off her clothes. She shook her head derisively at the woman in the full-length mirror attached to the back of the door as she kicked off her shoes, then peeled off her sweatpants, blouse, bra, and panties. She piled the clothes neatly on the bed. "This is no big deal," she whispered to herself. After all, hadn't she satisfied Charlie, sexually, for more than fifteen years? She knew how to please him. But this new, more aggressive Charlie: she was not sure that this guy was the same model.

She took a last glance at her naked body. Maureen was what many people would describe as svelte: thin, vaguely muscular, and somewhat boyish in appearance, but with wide hips and pert breasts that put her squarely in the girl camp. She pulled her shoulder-length brown hair back in a ponytail and held it in place with scrunchie. She took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Putting the sleep mask over her eyes, she dropped to her hands and knees and began a slow, humiliating crawl to the living room. As she exited the hallway and entered the living room, she heard Charlie at the couch.