Valerie and the Bachelor Ch. 06

"Good afternoon Ms. Carlyle. I'll be seeing you later." He got up and left her to her fantasies.

Later that afternoon Hilda reappeared to pick Valerie up. She inquired. "Ms. Carlyle, how have you been doing this afternoon?"

Valerie answered her. "Well I can't say for sure. I started off pretty well, but got side tracked. Started is really the wrong word. I worked mostly on the research materials on women, maids, and courteous behavior. I haven't gotten out of that section yet."

Hilda responded. "Well that's a good start. I know you had some unexpected interruptions. Sometimes those things just can't be helped. Right now we have to get you ready for this evening. You'll be our only server. Mr. Burke has only one guest, but she's an important one."

Valerie already knew what Hilda was talking about but didn't want to hurt her feelings, so she answered. "I think I can handle that."

Hilda replied. "Good." Now let's get you upstairs and dressed. You'll be wearing something Marcus picked out. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure it will be interesting, something pretty."

Upstairs the two people, Hilda the woman and Valerie the girl found the attire Marcus had decided she would wear. They laid it out and looked it over. It was pretty, but not to Valerie's liking, not at all. Hilda laughed and said something about Marcus having a way about him. Hilda also advised her that tonight the make up, hair styling, and clothing were to be vastly different from anything thus far, vastly different.

Hilda helped Valerie shower using a type of soap that gave Valerie's skin a pink sheen. Out of the shower Valerie sat at the table while Hilda got her ready. Her face was given a base coat of an added layer of soft pink, something they'd never done before. In fact Hilda rubbed the cream into her face rather strenuously, and kept rubbing it down her neck and around her shoulders. Her cheeks were swathed in yet another coat of pink only to be finished with several dabs of soft red on cheeks proper. Her eyes were highlighted in their usual pale blue, but their edges were trimmed in more pale red. Dark mascara outlined her eyebrows and eyelashes, and her lips were embossed with a pale red and then covered in shiny gloss. Looking in the mirror Valerie saw a nine or ten year old child, not a woman fully grown. More was yet to come. Her toenails and fingernails were polished in pink, and Hilda even dabbed a little red on her aureole.

Her hair was treated in a new way as well. Rather than the more typical braided pig tails she'd used before, or the perhaps a pony tail, tonight Hilda brushed, teased, and curled it out, cutting away the longer strands until she had what could only be described as a glorified Shirley Temple. Valerie thought she looked ridiculous, but Hilda wasn't done. Tiny ribbons were tied into the fronds closer to the front only to be capped off with two barrettes.

Out came the clothes. First a chemise covered her upper body. It was soft, silky, translucent, and offered almost nothing in the way of support for her breasts. In fact the chemise tended to push her breasts inward actually de-emphasizing her breast size.

The chemise was followed by an equally translucent pair of, for want of a better term, bloomers. They came to just above her knees, were lace trimmed, billowed suggestively at the legs, and were held in place with ribbon at the back. Hilda tied the ribbon off in a double knot, highly unusual, thus making it impossible for Valerie to get at it or undo it. The bloomer legs were held in place by a combination of elastic and ribbons Hilda tied off on the outer side of her legs at the knees. Valerie felt silly wearing them.

Over the chemise came a blouse, equally translucent, soft sort of fluffy scalloped collar edged in white lace, short sleeved, puffy capped translucent shoulders also edged in lace. The thing buttoned down the front with small pearl buttons and overlarge buttonholes, all very impractical.

Hilda was just about finished. She drew out a soft white jumper, and helped Valerie slip into it. It was tight at the bodice further reducing the size of her breasts. It had a high cut waist held in place by a four-inch wide tight pink silken belt. The jumper billowed gently from the high waist, and came to just mid thigh where it was trimmed in more lace like the sleeves and collar. The jumper was pretty, Valerie had to admit that, but it was a child's jumper, just as the blouse and lingerie were intended for a child. Worse, the jumper was as translucent as the blouse, bloomers, and chemise. Standing in front of the mirror she could see her legs, bloomers and all, barely hidden beneath.

Hilda had one more remedy to insure Valerie's total humiliation, her shoes and stockings. Hilda helped her into a pair of white stockings that came just above the knees. They were white, tight and though comfortable if such a thing could be considered comfortable they were so thin as to offer no real cover for her legs. Her pink skin could be seen through the stockings like a beacon welcoming the most salacious thoughts. Last came the shoes. They were white, patent leather, low cut, and opened toed. They were held in place by a thin black and silver buckled strap, and allowed just a tantalizingly smidgen of pink polished toenail to provocatively peak through the nearly transparent stockings at the bottom. Like the stockings, the jumper, and the blouse the shoes revealed just enough to spark the most prurient imaginings.

Valerie looked herself over and cringed. She was beautiful that was certain, but she was not the person looking back at her in the mirror. The person in the mirror was not real. It was a plaything, a bauble, a trinket, a sexual phenomenon, an artwork, but not a real person. Yet there she was. She could see herself in the mirror. It was she, and she was real. Was she what she saw? Who was she? More appropriately whose was she? She was somebody's. Marcus's sexual object, his idea, his toy, his mannequin!

This creation looking back at her was what he wanted her to be. In order to become Mrs. Marcus Burke she had to stop being Valerie the self-reliant independent human being. Is this what she wanted? She knew she wanted Marcus. She wanted Marcus more than anything. He wanted her too, but he wanted her in a special way. Could she be what he wanted, and still be who she was, or for that matter if she became what he wanted could she be anything? She thought so, but couldn't be sure.

Hilda kissed her on the cheek. "You have a good time tonight."

As Valerie started down the stairs she heard Hilda softly yell. "Be brave! Behave!"

In the dining room Valerie saw who the guest was. It was the woman Rosalind. She was supposed to act as server and waitress for Marcus and this woman, this woman she mistrusted and feared. Who was this person?

Marcus saw her coming and stood up. "What do we have here? Poetry in motion." He turned to the other person. "Look Rosalind. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

The woman got up and walked over. "Turn around dear. Let me look you over."

Valerie dutifully spun around in a 360.

The woman grinned at Marcus. "She certainly is beautiful. Somehow you always come out on top."

Valerie didn't like the way the woman referred to her in the third person. She didn't like the idea that she was just another great thing. The 'you came out on top' made it sound like she was some kind of trophy, some memento, a feather in ones cap, something one got after a job well done. Least of all she disliked the ways Marcus referred to her. She was poetry in motion, an anything so beautiful. That was the snare. Marcus never referred to her as a person, always some thing, a piece of poetry, a charm, just another souvenir, never as a person. He didn't seem to be able to relate to her as a person, man and woman, it was always man and thing, a beautiful, personable, charming, lovable, darling, adorable thing.

Marcus looked at Rosalind. "Are you hungry?"

Rosalind answered. "I could eat a horse."

Marcus turned around. "Valerie you can start serving now."

She gave Marcus an extra obsequious look. "Yes sir. Right away sir."

He ignored her. He'd already turned back to Rosalind. "I've been working on the O'Hara deal. It looks close to being finished, and it could be a big one."

The two people, Rosalind and Marcus sat across from each other at the table.

Rosalind answered. "I've been watching that one myself. Get that Marcus and we'll be in driver's seat next month when it comes to the Senate hearings."

Valerie brought in the appetizers.

Marcus glanced over. "Just set them there." He turned back and continued talking to Rosalind. They went on and on about the high stakes O'Hara deal. They munched on the appetizers, and washed them down with beer.

"Valerie where's the salads?" Ignoring any possible response from his fiancée he turned back to Rosalind. "You'll like tonight's salads. The cook invented a new vinaigrette recipe. It's to die for." He glanced in Valerie's direction. "You eating? Oh. And bring us both another beer."

Valerie answered. "Yes sir."

Rosalind looked Valerie's way. "She is very pretty. I like her outfit. Did you pick it out?"

Marcus looked over in Valerie's direction. "I pick out all her clothes." He looked back at Rosalind. "I like dressing her up in pretty things. She is a pretty little thing isn't she?"

Rosalind answered between gulps of beer. "You've got a cute one there. That's for sure. You going to keep her?"

Marcus peered around at Valerie who was pretending she didn't hear. "I'm going to marry this one."

Rosalind. "You are?"

Marcus. "Yeah. Sure. Why not? Valerie come over here."

Valerie heard everything. She was steaming. She walked over to where they were sitting, and stood at the empty chair that was where she was supposed to sit if she ever got a free moment.

Marcus told her. "Valerie show Rosalind the ring I gave you."

Valerie held up her hand.

Rosalind looked it over. She took the girl's hand in hers. "Perfect stone. Tiffany setting. Matches the earrings. You get them too?"

Marcus slurped up some lettuce. "Yeah. One goes with the other."

Rosalind looked at Valerie. "You're one lucky girl."

Valerie wanted to punch her in the nose. She wanted to stuff a fork in Marcus's throat, but she did neither. She politely curtsied and answered. "Thank you Miss Rosalind. I think so."

Rosalind looked back at Marcus. "Good girl there. Prize catch. Yes. You should keep her."

Valerie was steaming. Prize catch! She wasn't going to make it to the end of dinner.

Rosalind looked at Marcus again. "You marry her. I'll be the maid of honor." She looked at Valerie. "What do you say?"

Valerie tried to be polite. "I'm sure you'd make a wonderful maid of honor, but I have someone else in mind I'm afraid, an old friend."

Rosalind looked at Marcus. "Well. I better be good, that is if I want to be invited."

Marcus gave Valerie a dismissive look. "Go check on the main dishes."

Valerie scurried out of the room before she said anything else. She was really pissed off.

As she walked away she heard Rosalind. "Has a mind of her own doesn't she?"

Marcus replied. "She does. At least for now."

The rest of meal was the exclusive province of Rosalind and Marcus. Valerie slipped around in her little Shirley Temple outfit filling water glasses, handing out and taking back plates, and generally trying to stay out of the way. Neither Marcus nor Rosalind seemed to care. She reflected on her first evening when she was asked to play the maid. She was invisible then, and now, even engaged to the man at the table, she was still invisible.

Around 9:00 Rosalind left to go home. Valerie still hadn't figured out who she was, or what hold she had on Marcus. She only knew she wielded great influence, more than she thought imaginable. She also knew the two of them talked all night and treated her as though she wasn't there, even after having just received a diamond betrothal ring. Marcus and the woman Rosalind had some kind of really strange relationship, but then Valerie considered her relationship with Marcus. What was she to him? Was she his betrothed, the woman he loved and wanted to marry, or was she just some decorated piece of porcelain?

Marcus approached Valerie after he'd seen Rosalind off. "You were kind of rough on her don't you think?"

Valerie answered. "I don't know. I'm marrying you, not her. Being the bride, doesn't that entitle me to some rights regarding who's at our wedding?"

He replied. "Of course you'll have a voice in the wedding, but I want to remind you little girl I'm not patient with rude or intemperate behavior. You came off a little strong with someone whom I have great respect for."

Valerie was mad. "Who are you marrying? Her or me?"

Marcus shot back angrily. "Maybe I won't marry anyone. And maybe I'll just keep you around as something to play with."

There it was again thought Valerie. Am I a person or some pet? Instead of someone he said something. She wasn't real to him. She was some kind of sex toy. "Look." She was angry. "You always talk about me like I was some kind of thing. Like I'm a toy! I'm some plaything! A prize! I'm this I'm that! But never a person! What's with you?"

"You want to know what's up with you? He responded. "I found you in data processing. You were some little nobody typing on a word processor. I picked you out. I said here's someone with possibilities."

Valerie reacted. "Possibilities? What do you mean possibilities? You saw someone you could shape, mold, re-make. You thought you could what? Just grab me from my hum drum irrelevant existence and turn me into your little trinket, your little figurine?"

Marcus was feeling defensive. "No! No! I liked you right away. You had something, an aura. You were special. Different."

Valerie felt the strongest she'd felt in weeks. "Special? How special? Easy to fascinate, easy to control, easy to manipulate?"

Marcus was getting pissed. "Do you feel manipulated? Did I make you go to lunch when we first met? Did I make you come to the party? Did I force you to take that ring?" He hesitated, regretting the last remark. "The ring's yours. It's your no matter what you decide, for me to mention the ring was manipulative." He wanted to explain something, but he wasn't having much success.

Valerie wanted to back down. She didn't want to lose this argument, but she didn't want to lose him either. "I'm upset. I thought tonight's dinner would be different. Look. I don't know who this Rosalind is. I thought I'd be treated more like an equal, like a real person, your future bride, not some scullery maid."

Marcus caught the retreat in her tone of voice and comments. He thought he had her. "Do you know how many women I could have? Do you have any idea how many women have been after me, are after me? They all want one thing. Marcus Burke! The great Marcus Burke, and of course, his money. Then I met you. You weren't like that. You were different. You were shy, bashful, sincere. You weren't some cougar on the prowl. You understand?"

She understood. "I understand. You feel like some kind of prize catch, a target. I get that. But Marcus. I'm still a person. I'm real. I have feelings. I'm not your toy. I'm not some kind of thing you can dress up and parade around like I was some prized object. I'm not a bauble I'm not a piece of jewelry." She blew up. "What do you want? A wife, a lover, and a mother for your children, or do you want some kind of treasured pet you can keep on a leash. I'm a girl, a woman, not a God damned poodle!"

Whatever she'd just said triggered some very deep emotion in Marcus. What it was he didn't know, understand, or even recognize. He only knew he was really mad, out of control. He exclaimed. "I'll show you!" He reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders. He pulled her close, but instead of hugging or kissing her as she might have expected he grabbed her jumper and ripped it down the front. He grabbed her blouse, and with one yank tore it from her body. With his next move he shredded the chemise. Down went his hands to her bloomers, and in another violent surge they fell away in tatters.

Left only in her stockings and shoes he grabbed her by the waist and threw her on the nearby sofa. In a split second he was on her. He yanked her around until she was lying across his lap. "You've needed this!" He shouted. Taking his powerful right arm he swung down, and with the palm of his hand smashed a violent shot on her right ass cheek. Where the hand and fingers hit it instantaneously turned a vivid crimson. His arm rose and fell again, this time on her left cheek. Two, three, four times his powerful maul fell on her delicate ass, each blow left a vividly bright scarlet imprint.

Valerie cried out. "Marcus! No! Oh God. Please! Marcus you're hurting me! Stop! Oh please stop!" Her cries turned to tears. He tears to mournful beseeching moans, her moans to bitter pleas for mercy. "Please Marcus. I'm begging. It hurts. It hurts so much!"

Only after he'd leveled an even dozen strokes on each soft pliant little cheek did Marcus finally relent! He yelled. "Would I do that to a toy? Is that what a man would do to a pet? I would never hit a dog. I'd never hurt a puppy, or a kitten. You're neither. You're a human being. I know who you are. You feel like you're treated like a toy. Well guess what!" He shouted. "Boys play with their toys. They don't break them!" He pulled her around and held her close. He wrapped her small body in his arms. He took his strong right hand, just seconds before used to cause pain, and caressed the back of her head. He pulled her head to his and kissed her beautiful face. He pressed her body so tightly to his it hurt her.

Holding her as though he was afraid to let go he started softly cooing. "I love you Valerie! "I love you Valerie!"

He pushed her away slightly. Far enough away to be able to see her clearly, but close enough to guarantee she couldn't look anywhere else. "If I call you by pet names. If I say you remind me of something rare and delicate. If I tell you that I think you're like a precious object, it's not because I'm trying to objectify you. It's because those are the only words I can think of!"

He squeezed her arms and pinioned them behind her back. He leaned forward and kissed each sweet precious rosebud. "You're beautiful, clean, wholesome, pure. Those are rare qualities in a person. I see those things in you. Is it wrong to make comparisons using objects? I don't know. I never thought so. If you think it's bad. Well I'm sorry. Look!" He shouted. "I'm just a man looking for a little happiness. You make me happy. I'd like to share that with you." He pulled her back close, squeezing her so tightly she could scarcely breathe.

Valerie spoke. "But what about the woman Rosalind?"

He interrupted. Whispering into her ear. "She isn't important right now. I'll tell you about her when the time comes. I know you're curious, but I owe that much to her."

Valerie quieted down. "I don't know. I trust you. I'll wait." Valerie could feel his body. Was he shaking?

Marcus grew calmer. "I'll fill you in sometime. Not tonight though, tonight I have some other fences to mend."

Valerie asked. "Really? What?"

Marcus asked. "How's you ass?"

She leaned into his arms. "It hurts. It really hurts a lot."

Again marveling at how little and light she was, he picked her up. "Come on let's go upstairs. I'll you show what I can do."

She didn't say anything. She thought, maybe something had been cleared up. It had hurt, but things had become a little less fuzzy.

While he carried her upstairs Marcus made two remarks. "I'll never, ever, hit you, hurt you or spank you again. I don't hit women. I've never done anything like what just what happened before" Then as an after thought he added. "I know this is short notice. We're entertaining again tomorrow night. It will be a big do. Five couples with children. I expect you'll get everything ready after I e-mail you their names from work. I'll be more attentive tomorrow night. I promise."