Growing Pains: Betrayal

She mustn't be pregnant. She can't be. Simon and her had had a lot of sex recently. Unprotected sex as well, but it wasn't her time of the month to be fertile. She was sure. She can't be pregnant then. It was simple.

And as the little strip turned pink she swore to herself. She wasn't pregnant. The test was wrong. She simply couldn't be pregnant.

Chapter IV

"Hey bud, Mr Jones wants a word," the customer services representative at the front of the store said as Simon sauntered in. He was not late, but normally wanted to arrive around the same time as the store manager.

Rhea was especially horny that morning and refused to allow him to get dressed until she was completely satisfied, which meant he had not had time for breakfast and was still fifteen minutes late. Simon wondered what had got into her, she was not normally like that?

Simon's attention snapped to the present. "Mr Jones?" He asked "I wonder if it is anything to do with that pay rise."

The manager's door was closed, but Simon knocked and then opened it as he was barked in. The tall, thick-set gentleman with big bushy eyebrows watched the young father as he closed the door and sat down.

"Next Tuesday," he said. "All the store managers and deputy managers have been called up to Liverpool for a meeting. Some Head Office management thing. Whatever you have, cancel it, and make sure you book a hotel and travel. Sandy will book them for you."

"Sure. Anything, umm, on the grapevine?" Simon asked and he sneered.

"Grapevine? Don't be ridiculous. You will do well to learn that tittle-tattle rarely does anyone any good. I've seen the report for trading in the last month and I see sales on our alcohol were good."

Simon smiled, he felt more confident talking about store performance than impromptu meetings in Merseyside. "Our loss-leaders on beer and wine attracted a 22 percent increase in footfall and takings were up by over thirty percent. It's impressive. Plus staff absence was down significantly from April as well."

Mr Jones grinned. "I see. You know these are the best numbers out of any store outside the North-west?"

Simon glowed with pride. Although he was the deputy manager, he did run the store, in between his illicit liaisons and the impressive performance was down significantly to his hard work. He deserved a pay rise. A decent pay increase could mean an extra trip to Holly each month, and boy could see do oral.

* * * * *

"Strip!" A female voice uttered. Simon frantically unbuttoned his shirt and slid his trousers, shoes, socks and underpants into the locker. Mistress Katrina looked him over.

Simon glanced up at her. She had impossibly straight, glistening black hair that framed her harsh face which was punctuated with red lipstick. She scowled at him starting at her short black leather croptop and matching skirt, both of which fastened up the front. She wore leather sleeves on her forearms and wielded a thick cane.

"You pathetic weasel," she called. "Don't look at me with those filthy eyes. You've been here many times, you know the rules."

The Mistress Katrina dropped the cane and dragged Simon up by his ear. She grabbed a nearby paddle hanging on the wall of her dungeon, pulled the young father up by his ears and threw him against a spanking horse.

"I am not here for you to ogle me, you sick fuck. You understand?" she shouted and waited for an answer.

"Yes mistress," Simon automatically replied. Mistress Katrina pulled the paddle back and it made a satisfying smack on his right cheek. She stopped to rub the red globe and smacked the left cheek with the paddle.

The sounds of the leather paddle on Simon's bare flesh echoed around the dungeon and Katrina cackled at Simon's cries. "You're a nasty little scumbag," she taunted and reached down to his balls hanging against the bondage furniture.

As expected Simon was erected and aroused. "You enjoying your punishment?" Katrina asked a rhetorical question and Simon squawked as another blow rained on his unprotected behind.

"No mistress."

Katrina called him a liar and massaged his balls and his perineum. She held a finger onto his rosebud and threatened to fuck him like a "virgin on prom night." Simon glanced at a strap-on dildo harness hanging on the dungeon wall and yelped.

Katrina spanked him again on the behind and again and again until his rear was a cherry red. She smirked at her handiwork and then made Simon kissed the paddle and thank it for the pleasure it had given her.

Katrina pranced around the dungeon. She whipped the helpless Simon, she restrained him. She poured hot wax over his chest, she masturbated him and stopped just before he came and she electrocuted him.

All the time, Simon thanked her and took more abuse. His rock-hard cock gleefully accepted then punishment she gave me.

Katrina loved to humiliate him, and halfway through their two-hour session, they were joined by Mistress Jane and her slave, Wendy. Jane and Katrina tormented the two clients together, and had Wendy pee over Simon before Simon returned the compliment.

It was degrading. And Simon loved it.

He showered and got changed and Katrina came up to him. He got a slap for not thanking her quickly enough and a promise that the next time he came she would rape his ass with her nine-inch strap-on.

Simon gulped. He enjoyed his sessions with Katrina but they were costing him over seven hundred pounds and he just couldn't afford it. But he couldn't stop going. Not now, he liked being submissive too much.

* * * * *

Rhea knocked on her brother's front door sharply and turned around. He was definitely inside, his car was in the drive. There was no sign of any of his neighbours in the leafy village and Rhea hammered again.

A slurred shout of annoyance came from inside and, struggling with his feet Andy unlocked the front door and opened it.

Rhea squealed in shock.

Andy, completely naked was holding a whisky bottle in one hand and a vodka bottle in the other. He staggered and leant against the wall, trying to focus and make out who was at his front door. "Oh, it's you," he muttered as he saw his sister.

"What the bloody hell is going on, Andy? It's not even midday."

Andy closed his eyes and went to take a swig of his whisky but Rhea snatched them both off of him. He made a distressed groan and she pushed him towards the lounge, sitting the naked man in a chair. The room was stuffy and she gasped.

"What the hell is happening, Andy?"

"Gimme back me vodka," Andy asked and Rhea snorted. She looked around the room and turned off the hardcore pornography that was playing on continuous loop through the DVD player and opened a window.

"You're pathetic. So Amy and you split up?" Rhea asked and Andy grunted in reply. She went to throw him a pair of discarded shorts on the floor but noticed the ominous white stain on the front the moment she picked them up and squealed, throwing them back onto the carpet. "You are disgusting."

Rhea passed Andy a towel on the back of the sofa and he wrapped it around his waist, covering himself up. "Yeah, Amy and I have split, OK. So what. Just what are you doing here?"

Rhea sighed and her voice softened. "I am here, because Zoe is scared. We all are. You can't go on a bender for weeks because a two-month relationship ended."

"I loved her," wailed Andy and Rhea grunted.

"No you didn't," she replied firmly and dismissively. "You knew her for two months."

"That means nothing. She was fantastic."

"Andy, you weren't in love with her, because every time you fall in love with someone, I end up hating them. Think about it. Abi, Sarah, Paula, Jamsine, Sophia. I liked Amy, ergo, you did not love her."

"I never loved Sophia. She was ... dull."

"Sophia was dull, but at the time you loved her. You said so yourself. But whether you loved Amy or not, you can't try and kill yourself because she dumped you."

"I'm not trying to kill myself. I am just ..."

"Wallowing in self-pity and Soccer Slutz Volume 5. Was the first four versions of this so good they had to bring out a fifth edition or hadn't they explored the storyline enough?"

Andy grunted and Rhea sat opposite him. "Seriously Andy. You need to sort yourself out."

"I'm fine," he said firmly and Rhea looked at him.

"You've put on weight. You've got handles bigger than most HGVs."

Andy looked at her and she raised her eyebrows. "Come on, have a shower, get dressed and lets go for a stroll on the Common. You can tell me all about it," she soothed and as Andy left the room, set about cleaning his house.

* * * * *

The faceless suited Director got to the front of the assembled throng of managers and gave a nervous grin.

"Now, a little get together to explain the Corporate Strategy in the next twelve months," she said in a monotone voice. "Now as you know, this year has been especially challenging for the Einfs brand, and we have been hit by a series of exceptional one-off costs, such as our new stores in Cumbria and Staffordshire, and also those fines from the regulators and reorganisation of the company."

She pressed a button and the PowerPoint presentation skipped a slide. "Now, our challenge from the board was to define the outlook for the business, see where the competitors in the Supermarket industry are going and to ensure that our approach synergises with the expected delivery model to produce optimum strategic outlook for the company."

Simon scowled at the suited woman. He didn't quite understand the last sentence, and by the blank faces in the room neither did many of the other attendees, but he knew he needed to listen. He just found her voice dull and monotonous; it was sending him to sleep. His mind wandered and he thought back to his office liaisons with Alison, Heather and Amelia, as well as his paid liaisons with Holly, Louisa, Georgina and of course, Mistress Katrina.

He could see her whip in the inane clip-art that surrounded the slides of the corporate presentation and licked his lips. The yellow drips of the abstract art represented the golden urine of his humiliation and smiled at the pool of scarlet at the bottom of the screen. He desperately wanted more sessions with the Mistress Katrina. In the last six months, she had unlocked an erotic need he had suspected, but never known, existed. Of course, dating Rhea meant that he was attracted to strong, powerful women, but he had never been dominated before in that way. It was incredible, but expensive and he could not afford her.

"So of course this means we need to reappraise our growth strategy which has been extraordinarily rapid in the last two years. To this end, we have decided to close twelve of our fifty-seven stores." Simon was awoken from his thoughts immediately and focused in on the slide that followed.

It was there. Watford was on the slide, his branch was in the twelve. Between Reading and York on the list. His branch, their flagship branch, near London was on their hit-list. He gasped, unable to process what those around him were mumbling. "Of course, you will see it is the branches that are furthest from our North-west home and heritage that are to close. The higher cost of distribution ..."

Simon lost her speech, he was about to be made unemployed and everything else was unimportant. The director went on to praise the staff for their dedication and hard work but that the business model that opened the stores to a great fanfare eighteen months ago was now outdated.

It was redundant. As he was about to be.

Simon left the room to throw up.

Chapter V

Rhea sighed. This was the fourth letter from Chiltern Bank in the last three weeks. They didn't normally write to them so much and she put it by the kettle. She wanted to open it. She deliberated. It was addressed to both of them but Simon dealt with the financial stuff.

There was a knock at the door and Rhea strode towards it. If she didn't leave soon she would be late for work and bars didn't open themselves. "Miss Williams?" A tall suited gentleman with short hair and fashionable stubble asked and Rhea nodded, staring at him.

"Who are you?"

"Can I come in please?" The gentleman asked with an effortless smile. "It really is very important."

Rhea thought for a moment and then shook her head. "Who are you and what do you want?"

The smart gentleman took a deep breath; it was not unusual for his clients to be defensive but, in his industry he preferred for them to be subservient and compliant as well. He gave a false chuckle and his eyebrows rose. With a charming smile he produced a letter on headed notepaper. "I am Mr Chambers, I represent Terrence and Co, and I am collecting a substantial amount of arrears from the Chiltern for a mortgage ..."

Rhea gasped as she took the letter. "What?"

Mr Chambers normally liked it when the occupant was not aware of the arrears, and always imagined the row that would happen when the debtor arrived home and saw a spark of anger in Rhea as she scanned the document. She was a fighter, definitely and didn't fancy being in her partner's shoes when he returned home. " ... for a mortgage on this property. This currently stands at over five thousand pounds in arrears and I am authorised to start removing goods to repay the debt."

Rhea's eyes sparkled dangerously. "You will do no such thing," she snapped and gave him the letter back. "There must be some mistake, we pay the mortgage every month on time. Now kindly leave my property and don't come back."

Rhea was clearly shaken, and he saw her think. He smiled as she wondered whether Simon had forgotten to pay the mortgage? How could they be five grand in debt on their joint mortgage? That was eleven months of mortgage repayments, and if they hadn't paid the money why didn't she know previously?

Mr Chambers eyed the young mother, she had gone pensive and was distracted. "There is no mistake. If you refuse to let me in, I am entitled to break in ..." he lied. He thought that it was clear that she would unlikely know that he was unable to do this, unless he had already gained access to the property previously and hoped that this would make Rhea more co-operative. It didn't.

"If you break into my home, I will break your legs," she replied venomously and Mr Chambers recoiled. "Now get the fuck off my property before I start breaking fingers."

Mr Chambers thought. If only he could get one foot over the front door, he could break in. Legally. Whenever he wanted. In his experience this always made the occupants of the property more co-operative. He sucked in a breath for a moment and took a step forward, intending to barge Rhea out of the way. She was at least six or seven inches shorter than him and her slight frame suggested weakness.

Rhea reacted quickly. In a lightning-quick move, she raised her foot and propelled it towards him. Towards his waist. And it connected firmly with his genitals. Rhea swelled up angrily and dropped the paper onto the floor, and as the bailiff took a step back, howling in agony Rhea's right fist smashed into his face.

"Now get the fuck off my property," she shouted fiercely and with the gentleman bent lay prostrate on her path, blood streaming from his face. She slammed the door wildly and sank to the floor, her head in her hands.

The letters sat by the kettle and she stared at them. What would they say and was it important? She had noticed a stack of letters from financial companies coming for them every week but she never thought too much of it. Her mind whirred with possibilities.

Was Simon paying the mortgage? He said he was, and he said it came direct from his bank account. Surely he would have told her if he was struggling, and not pay anything for eleven months; she didn't believe it. It was impossible, he was just too sensible. She chastised herself for having such undeserving thoughts of her partner. She had been dating him for ten years in two months and it was his sensibleness that had riled her so much when they first starting dating.

She got her coat and brushed her hair in the mirror. She glanced through the front door and the bailiff had left her path. She wondered for a moment and went back to the letters and opened them. She wished she hadn't.

The bank had "regrettably started eviction proceedings" for non-payment of the mortgage for twelve months. This could be avoided if they were to pay off the outstanding debt, plus a 10% handling fee within seven days otherwise the bank "would seize control of the property and market it for sale to recoup the loan amount plus any charges incurred."

Rhea collapsed against the kitchen worktop open-mouthed before bursting into tears. This flat was her home, her daughter's home and was Simon and her first foot on the housing ladder. How can they be twelve months in arrears?

She felt sick and ran to the bathroom.

As she came out of their small bathroom, without hesitating she walked into her bedroom and pulled open Simon's drawers. He kept all the financial documents in his bottom drawer and there was loads of correspondence from a number of financial institutions.

Rhea sniffed back the tears and emptied the drawer on the bed. There were a number of letters from the mortgage provider about the arrears, and more about a sizeable debt on a credit card. Simon didn't have any credit cards, she thought. There were letters from two debt collection agencies chasing him for cash accrued, another from his current account holder asking him to repay his overdraft.

Then she found a stack of bank statements and she scanned them. Sure enough, his wages were paid in and then were withdrawn in cash almost immediately. Just what was going on? How did he "max out" his ten thousand pounds credit card in just four months? And how did he spend a six thousand pound unsecured loan?

Rhea sat back on her haunches and wiped her eyes. Her boyfriend was in debt to over twenty thousand pounds, and most of this owed from joint accounts. She shook her head and tears flooded her face again. She had never been so much in debt before.

Rhea composed herself and reached for the phone. She dialled work to tell them that she was unwell and could not come in, and then rang Zoe. She might have been Simon's brother, but she had been a good, calm friend to Andy and her over the years; at that particular point in time, she needed someone.

* * * * *

Zoe shrieked as the vibration of her phone rattled against the garden chair. Andy grinned. "Something from Ann Summers," he teased and Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Hello?" Zoe asked nervously, not checking the Caller ID and a tearful Rhea greeted her.

"What's up?" Zoe asked, sensing that Rhea was upset.

"We are being evicted," Rhea blurted out and burst into tears. "Si's not paid the mortgage for twelve months. And I have bailiffs at the door. All sorts."

Zoe froze. "What?"

Rhea sobbed. "We've lost everything and I don't know why."

"OK. I am coming over," she said, putting the phone down and turned to Andy.

"You're sister is going to be evicted. I'll need you to take us."

"Evicted? Why?"

"I don't know," Zoe lied and Andy paused for a moment.

"OK. But you need to drive."

"It's eleven o'clock. Please tell me you've not been drinking this morning."

Andy groaned. "No, of course I haven't. I just had a bit of a heavy night last night."

"And you are still drunk?"

"No. I think I am fine. But I don't want to take any chances."

"I'm not insured," she wailed and Andy rolled his eyes.

"Well don't have a crash then." Zoe groaned and held up her hands in mock submission. "You have third-party on all other vehicles anyway on your own insurance."

"It's a massive BMW. Ezra and I drive a Nova between us. It's a bit different."

"It'll be fine. Just that the car will do more than sixty. And it has a bit less rust. What you need is to let Ezra get a bike, or let me get him a bike and then he can give you the car instead of dropping you off places."