Ted Shapiro looked across the enormous leather desk, sweating a bit. Across from him was the most intimidating woman he had ever met, including his wife Jeannie. He tried his best to not cower in his chair as she leaned across the desk, smiling at him predatorily.
The room was cold, almost too cold for air conditioning, but the woman seated behind the desk was making him sweaty and anxious anyways. Ted scratched at his palm nervously and replied to her last line of questions.
"I'm sure, Mrs. M-Malagasta," Ted stammered, "that we can come to an arrangement in regards to your daughter's tutoring." Ted was a tutor, a private teacher, really and a very well-paid one. He specialized in home tutoring for the children of the ultra wealthy and his unimposing persona helped with this. His networking skills didn't hurt his chances, either, yet for all of the boy bands and heiresses he had put into University, nothing had prepared him for Victoria Malagasta.
"Miss," she breathed across the desk at him and stood up. Her smile was warm and friendly and when she smiled at him the rest of her face smiled too. Despite her obvious charm, she made Ted ill at ease and he couldn't explain why. Her tan was so deep it made her look red and the dress she wore didn't look like clothes so much as a thick layer of paint. At her full height, Ted felt like he was staring at some beautiful, ancient fertility goddess.
Her black hair had a near perfect sheen to it and was styled in an up-swept way that accented her eyes and made her stare seem that much more penetrating.
"I checked your references and you come highly recommended, Mr. Shapiro. A number of your previous clients praised your abilities and your, ahem, discretion."
"Well ma'am," Ted wasn't sure why he used that word, but it seemed... right, "parents with children who are touring musicians want to know their children are safe and they have nothing to fear from their teachers, who frequently sleep nearby."
"Well Mr. Shapiro, there's very little of concern here for me in regards to that. Tatiana doesn't tour or even leave the house, but she can be a handful."
"I've dealt with handfuls, ma'am," he was baffled at why he was saying that word, "Miss Malagasta."
"It's Victoria."
"Victoria," he repeated and started to relax.
"But I do so like being called 'ma'am'," she purred, grinning.
Her teeth set him on edge again just as he was starting to relax. This woman was so like his wife, Jeannie. Jeannie loved to get him spun up and it drove him nuts. He was only here at her insistence. He was here because Jeannie wanted more money. Jeannie always wanted more money.
Three years ago, he'd done a tutoring gig; going on tour with the Dodson Twins and that had set him up for life. The following year he spent on the road with 5 cash-drunk boy banders. That trip had put two nice Hondas in their garage, along with another half of a million dollars in the bank. The Shapiros had a beautiful house across the East River from here, a pair of nice cars and a dog named Buck. Ted also hoped that eventually some children would enter the picture but Jeannie loved her money more than she would love anyone or anything else and she always wanted more. That was why he was here. More money for Jeannie.
"Of course, ma'am," he lowered his eyes for a moment.
"Tatiana has a serious condition that we need to address when the time comes. You can't let her get the upper hand on you and she is not to have contact with other teens. Her condition makes contact with them in an uncontrolled environment very risky. We are going to take a few specific precautions to prevent her from unduly influ- err... affecting you, but other people her age must be properly vetted and brought in by me and me alone."
"Of course, ma'am," Ted produced a file folder with the contracts he had drawn up at her direction from his briefcase and placed them on the edge of her desk. Ted had wondered why Tatiana Malagasta had been confined to the house, but he doubted he would find out today. Today was about signing contracts. Whatever 'condition' she had, it meant she couldn't go outside and she needed to be protected from him or vice versa.
The desk was an enormous and imposing leather-covered affair. It was edged with ornate, rich brass work that seemed ancient, yet untarnished. Into the leather, tiny figures were stamped along the edges and corners. Ted stared at the figures, but couldn't figure out what they were and when he tried too hard, it made his brain hurt. The entire article of furniture had a tangible wrongness to it.
"These are my standard contracts and I've added your specified err- clauses and made the alterations you requested. Ma'am." Ms. Malagasta had requested that he include a blanket 'teacher will take all necessary client-directed, client-specified precautions' clause to protect her daughter and had requested he leave the monetary compensation a blank. Finally, she had added a very strange immunity clause, protecting her from lawsuits in the case that he did not approve of her precautions.
She sauntered around to the front of the desk and bent over the contract, her stunning backside high and pointed right at him. Looking back at him over her shoulder, she grinned, her perfect white teeth setting him again on edge. She scribbled something on the contract and checked a few other pages, initialing the bottom of each page then setting the entire thing down on the desk.
She turned around and with an almost bouncy, bubbly hop, she jumped up to sit on the edge of the desk. She plucked up the contract again and sat right on the very edge closest to Ted. Now, she was so very close to him, her long red-brown legs crossed. This close, Ted felt a certain warm humidity and an ozone-like tingle in the air; it was like just before an electrical storm. She smiled at him and ran her long, blood colored nails along the contract.
He could smell her breath, a cinnamony wisp that when he inhaled too deeply it made him heady and when combined with her rich musky perfume, made it impossible for him to not stand there blissfully, basking in her scent. He stood next to her enraptured and started when she bgan to speak again.
"Yes, thank you." She plucked a fountain pen from the desk and scribbled on the compensation page, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. Grinning again, she reversed the paper to Ted. The number was an astronomical, decadent amount. He had heard that she was rich, but until now had no idea how rich. Ted exhaled sharply and then took in another few deep breaths, hyperventilating. Her scent hammered at him and he felt funny, like he'd gotten high and didn't know it. He stood there, poleaxed.
She smiled and ran a long nail along his hairline, making Ted even more uncomfortable and suddenly now at her first contact, aroused. The scent, her voice, her smile, and most importantly her electric touch caused him to stir to life down there and he felt the sensation of something 'letting down' inside of him, a secretion or oozing of something deep in his loins. Whatever liquid flowed in him, it was headed to his manhood, which suddenly felt tight in his pants despite being not even half erect.
He wasn't sure if it was the money or his suddenly being turned on that made him lose his footing, but he slumped back into his chair. He felt weird and lost and like his mind was being pawed at.
She seemed to know something was up and she peered down at him in his chair, now feeling so far below her. She gave him the smile of a stalking jungle cat and his knees felt weak.
"Wow," Ted finally said.
Victoria showed her teeth again and it unnerved him. He stammered out a few syllables adn she cut him off with a question, "So I should sign this then?" She slithered off of the desk, her dress clinging to her like paint everywhere it made close contact.
She walked on her toes, her heels several inches off of the carpet. She stalked over to a massive mahogany buffet and cabinet, opening it to reveal a well-stocked bar. She took a pair of crystal glasses from the side and set them onto the small end of the buffet. Into each glass she placed a trio of dark red icecubes. Following the ice cubes came a healthy amount of a brown liquor from an unmarked crystal ewer. Ted assumed it was scotch.
She signed the contract and passed it to Ted, who signed a copy and passed the copy back to her. She set the contract on the desk and passed him a glass of scotch. Floating in the scotch, the red ice cubes were quickly fizzing away to nothingness. By the time the glass was securely in his hands, the red ice cubes were gone. She raised her glass to Ted and he reciprocated and as she killed her scotch in a single gulp, he poured his down his throat.
The scotch burned. It seared down his throat and into his chest. He sputtered as it torched his tongue and writhed slightly, shuddering as it made his skin feel as pins and needles were on it. Ted wondered where she had gotten this scotch, as it had never burned his throat and mouth like this. It wasn't the burn of cheap liquor, it was the burn of ghost peppers and burning embers and fresh wasabi.
Still grinning she asked if everything was all right.
"Yes, just fine," he rasped.
"Well here's to a very successful relationship."
"Likewise," he managed.
"Should we get on the subject of the other clause, ma'am?"
"The protective measures for you?"
"Me? I guess I just assumed it was for your daughter. That she had a compromised immune system or something similar."
"Oh no, Teddy. She has a condition to be sure, but we needed to make sure that it wouldn't affect your ability to be her tutor."
"Needed?"
