Idle Hands Ch. 01

"Not that you should walk around topless every day," she said, with a glint of humor. "I don't want to expose my family to that much temptation. I am trying to reconcile with Josh, after all. I can't have him looking at you when he should be looking at me. Just wear something attractive. Something which will remind us of the beauty to be found in the world." Her voice deepened. "Something which will make us desire you, as a woman should be desired."

Run away! The voice of Father Martinez roared in her mind. Filthy strumpet! Will you defy your Lord this way by selling your soul for money and comfort?

~Stay.~ A second voice overrode the priest's ranting. It was deep, rich, and heady, like dark chocolate and sin. ~Stay and learn what true happiness is like. Stay and learn the power and glory of your body.~

Desire opened like a pit in Maria's belly. She trembled softly, wondering whether her deepest, most hidden fantasies were about to come true.

"You're beautiful, too," she said softly. She stood bravely, meeting Rachel's eyes. "I would never try to take your novio away from you. He should be in your bed. But I would like to be there, too."

An unnameable emotion crossed over Rachel's pale face. In an instant, she had closed the distance between them, her hands on Maria's hips, her head turning sideways, her mouth descending, opening like a flower, her white teeth gleaming in the dim light.

When their lips touched, it was like lightning. Maria gave a groan which was half-desire, half-anguish, and she lifted her hands to run them through Rachel's fine, silky hair. She yearned towards her, her breasts aching, her nipples contracting into hard, tight buds on her breasts. They scraped on the silk of Rachel's blouse and she shook with animalistic pleasure.

In the silence, broken only by the panting sound of their breath, the ring of the phone was jarringly loud. Pulling away from Maria, Rachel let loose with a stream of curses which made her blush. She fished her phone out of her slacks and answered it, one arm still curled possessively around Maria's waist. Trembling at her audacity, Maria ran inquisitive fingers up her sides, her hands straying dangerously close to the curves of her breasts.

"All right," Rachel sighed. "I'll be there as soon as I can." She tapped a button on the phone and the screen went dark. "I have to go," she said regretfully. Her eyes were wide, and a trace of fear could be seen on her face. "The jury is back. It's too soon," she continued softly. "I expected them to take several days to reach a verdict. Maybe more."

She laid a hand on Maria's cheek, smiling as she leaned into the touch. Her thumb traced the line of her cheekbone. "When can you start?" she asked, as if the past few moments had not occurred and they were still simply discussing Maria's employment. "Do you need to give notice to your boss?"

"He has fired a pregnant woman and given her no severance pay," Maria replied bitterly. "I owe him nothing. When do you want me to start?" She looked at Rachel, her heart singing in her chest. "I very much look forward to working for you," she said demurely, casting her eyes down. She looked up through her lashes, enjoying the feeling of power over Rachel as her breath caught.

Yes, she thought. There is power in submitting to another. Especially when the other desires you so badly.

~Yes, child,~ spoke the voice in her head. ~You begin to learn.~

Rachel tapped her foot. "How about Tuesday? You can work through the end of the week at your current job, and Monday's a holiday. See me when you come in on Friday. If I'm not here, I'll make sure either Alex or Sara are. Have you decided whether you want to move into the garage apartment?"

"Yes," she said eagerly. "Of course, I would need to see it first."

"Good idea," Rachel said approvingly. "I don't want you to buy a pig in a poke. Never mind," she said in answer to Maria's blank look. "I'll have Alex or Sarah show you around. And they can give you an advance on your salary in case you need to rent a truck to move your things in. If you decide you don't like the apartment, that's fine. The job offer still stands.

"One thing, however, is non-negotiable," she said, her voice throbbing with unslaked lust. She kissed Maria again, hot and fierce, her hands gripping the firm curves of her rear through the rumpled fabric of her uniform. "Someday soon, I am going to kiss your beautiful breasts and finger your hot pussy until you beg me to make you come. And you will do the same for me."

Maria fell to her knees. Her belly was hot with want, her panties soaked with her fluid. "Yes, Mistress. I will do as you command." Her eyes, when they looked up, were worshipful.

Her mistress gazed down at her, her mouth trembling. "Damn it. I have to go." She turned and walked quickly away. In moments, Maria heard the sound of the garage door opening, and the muted growl as Rachel's Mercedes drove away.

She knelt on the floor and wept with happiness.

*****

Weaving among other cars as she barreled up the expressway, Rachel was torn in an agony of shame and desire. She clenched her hands tight on the wheel, trying to ignore the urgent ache in her groin, the sheen of sweat that slicked her skin.

What is happening to me? She wriggled against the leather upholstery, trying to scratch the maddening itch at the base of her spine. I've never been turned on by a woman before in my life! And now I'm damn near raping my maid in the middle of my dining room! Is this some sort of mid-life crisis no one told me about? I know women are supposed to hit their sexual peak around my age. Does their sexual preference change as well?

She thought about Josh, due to arrive home in three days. To her vast relief, she found her desire for her ex-husband was undiminished. In fact, it seemed to have increased. It was all she could do to not pick up the phone and beg him to come home to give her the fucking she craved.

No, not craved. Needed. Needed as badly as a she needed air or water. She cast her memory back to that time, only a few minutes ago, when Maria's warm brown breasts had been within her reach. How would they feel in her hands? What would her nipple taste like when she laved it with her tongue?

"Oh, God," she moaned. Her entire body seemed to want to do nothing but prepare itself for sex. It was the voice in her head. The one that had been growing louder and louder for the past week. Sometimes it simply seemed to be her own thoughts, but deeper and darker than any she had ever had before. At other times, it seemed to be an entirely different personality, one bent on pursuing pleasure to the detriment of all else. As she seduced Maria, it had been talking to her, goading her, until the two of them had been only moments away from taking each other in Rachel's own dining room.

And still the desire pushed her. She slipped a hand inside her blouse, pushed down a bra-cup, and gently mauled her tit, her fingers pinching her tight nipple. Wild fantasies flared through her mind. Of hauling one of the lawyers in the office into an unattended janitorial closet for a few frenzied minutes of passionate sex. Her fingers kneaded and prodded, pulling her engorged nipple away from its breast, until she finally shuddered in a shameful, empty climax.

*****

Riding in Rachel's body, Althea savored her sexual pleasure, feeding from her orgasm. She regretted the feelings of confusion in her host's mind, even as she reveled in the strength she brought her. No longer on the edge of dissolution, she was growing stronger every day. ~Soon I will be strong enough to talk to her. To explain.~

She had been wrong, she decided. When she first entered Rachel, she had thought her all but sexless, a joyless automaton whose passions had been so chained that it would take weeks or months before Althea could even think about reclaiming her body. Instead, Rachel reminded Althea of nothing more than a dormant volcano, a woman whose desires had not been extinguished, but merely held in abeyance until given the proper nudge. And just as a volcano could be brought back to life by the smallest shift of a tectonic plate, Rachel's desires were now in full force and desperate for release.

~But Maria,~ she thought. ~That was a welcome surprise.~ She had thought to use Rachel to seduce Maria, since tapping into their pleasure would make her all the stronger. And the scattered hints about Maria she had gathered from Rachel had led her to believe that the attractive young woman would welcome Rachel's touch. She had extended her power to the utmost, whispering in Maria's mind. But when Rachel had kissed her sexy maid, Althea had been stunned by the depth of her sensuality and her enthusiastic response. She had been in such a state of shock she had actually been glad Rachel had been summoned back to court, as it gave her an opportunity to think and plan.

~A submissive. That is something unexpected.~ Althea was no stranger to the darker side of sex. And being what she was, an immortal of inhuman power, submissives were drawn to her. When she was in her true form, men, and some women as well, sought to lay themselves at her feet, needing a mistress to command them. But while she held that anything which was done between consenting adults was permissible, the history of Althea and her kin made her wary of the sort of unthinking worship some people seemed to think she desired.

Happily, Maria showed no signs of that sort of nonsense. While the need to submit was bone-deep in her, it was tethered to an immense personal strength and moral courage which was the equal to anyone she had ever known. Finding a Master or Mistress would give her intense sexual gratification, especially if that Mistress included bed-play in the relationship. But anyone who sought to abuse Maria's trust would find that which yielded was not necessarily weak.

~Yes. She will do nicely.~ She had been fortunate. Very fortunate, indeed. When Peter, the deluded young man who sought to use her for his own twisted desires had died, she might have been pulled into death along with him. Even when she escaped his dying body, it was only the merest chance which decreed her new host was a lovely woman, rather than a child or a dried-up old stick of a man. And Rachel's family and circle of acquaintances were like a pile of oil-soaked rags, needing only the smallest spark to set the flames of passion alight. Her days-long sojourn through Rachel's mind had showed her the depth of feeling she still had for her ex-husband Joshua. Friends and lovers for over twenty years, the two had become estranged due to mule-like stubbornness. But the love was still there, like the coals of a campfire, needing only a breath to be rekindled.

Then there were the children, Alex and Sarah. Good-looking, intelligent, and passionate about their own lives, they had been smothered by Rachel, almost stunted by her good intentions. Her belief that she knew what was best for them had put them on the edge of open rebellion. But Althea's whispered hints and Rachel's own innate decency had kept them from that fate. Now Althea searched Rachel's mind, wondering how she could use them for her own purpose. They had both inherited Rachel's lusty capacity for love-making. But Althea didn't want to simply use and discard them. With help, she thought she could guide them towards the life-long happiness which all humans longed for, but few achieved.

She gave a mental snort. ~It's a little late in the day to try to win salvation through good deeds, don't you think? Or are you actually turning into a romantic in your old age?~

The life of a succubus was by turns both richly rewarding and irretrievably bleak. Rewarding, because of the pleasure and power to be be gained through sex. And humans were an inexhaustible supply. Also, she and her kin were the last defense of the Almighty against the hosts of Hell, and dispatching demon-spawn into the Abyss never ceased to be a cause for joy.

Yet, despite that, she and her kind had slowly dwindled through the ages, until there were barely a handful left. Many of her kin, worn down by the unending millennia, had taken their own lives in despair, or had been killed in their long war against Hell. The lives of humans, brief as mayflies, burned and died like sparks from a fire on a winter's night. The death of every lover stole a piece of her heart, until she had armed and armored herself against caring. She had made her way through the world with a smile on her lips and a lock on her soul.

But somehow, like a golden dagger, Rachel and her family had pierced her heart. She found herself opening to them. They were not merely bodies to be used for the power they could give her, but people to be cared for and nurtured. Maybe, even, loved?

~We'll see,~ Althea thought, guiding Rachel's fingers up her thigh, taking another bite of pleasure. ~I should be able to talk to her soon.~

~We'll see.~

*****

Rachel took a few moments for herself in the women's restroom in the courthouse, trying to compose herself. With a handful of paper towels, she gently tried to clean the puffy, engorged lips of her sex, but only succeeded in arousing herself further. It was all she could do to not pull off her black pencil-skirt and panties and stuff her hand up her horny channel until she found release again. Her musk rose up around her like a cloud, and her eyes in the mirror, when she washed her hands, looked wild and unstrung, more like an animal than a woman.

She finally managed to calm down and joined her team in the courtroom. Luckily, the judge had not yet arrived. She sat down at her place, leaning close to Donald Mertz, who had been her second-in-command throughout the long process of the trial.

"What do you think, Donny?"

"It's too soon," he replied. He was an older man, nearly sixty, but his eyes were shrewd. He would never make partner, but he had been an invaluable ally for the last several months. His encyclopedic knowledge of environmental law was greater than Rachel's own. He had been the brains behind their case, while Rachel, with her superior courtroom presence, had been the voice and spirit. "Barely a day? There's no way they should have reached a decision so quickly."

"That's what I thought," she said worriedly. She lowered her voice. "Do you think Antioch paid them off?"

Donny glanced over at the opposing counsel and shook his head. "No way. Look at them. They're more nervous than we are."

Indeed, the well-fed, fatuous faces across the room were pale with strain. Rachel caught the eye of the president and owner of the company, a graying, dignified man in his sixties, and nodded politely. After a startled moment, he returned the gesture.

She was just about to open her mouth to ask another question when the door from the judge's chambers opened. Judge McKittrick gaveled the court to order and spoke to the jury.

"Madam Forewoman, has the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have, your honor," replied the forewoman, rising to her feet. A woman in her late thirties, mother of three, her selection as the head of the jury had been a welcome sign to Rachel that they were taking their responsibilities seriously.

"And what is the verdict?"

"In the question of material damages, we find for the plaintiffs, and assess the defendants a penalty of eleven million, eight hundred thousand dollars."

Rachel bowed her head and fought to keep a victorious grin from stretching her lips. It was the amount they had asked for, down to the last penny. The money, assuming they would ever be able to collect it, would go to the thirty-seven families who had signed on to the lawsuit, as compensation for the damage Antioch had done to their property.

"And for the punitive damages?"

The forewoman raised her head from the paper she was reading from. Her eyes were cold as she looked at the defense. Below the table, Rachel gripped Donny's hand tightly.

"In the question of punitive damages, we also find for the plaintiffs, and assess the defendants a penalty of one hundred and twenty million dollars."

The courtroom seemed to gasp. Then, wild cheers broke loose, as those members of the property-owners who had been close enough to arrive in time for the verdict let loose with their joy. Cameras from the press flashed brightly, sending strobes of light across Rachel's vision. She blinked, stunned by the verdict. She had not dared dream of such an outcome.

Neither, it seemed, had the executives at Antioch. They sat in a row, stiff and colorless as mannequins. Slowly, the president leaned forward, the palms of his hands pressed into his eye sockets. He looked, Rachel thought, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

After repeated bangs of her gavel, Judge McKittrick was finally able to bring the court to order. She dismissed the jury and closed the case. Rachel sat for a moment, letting the babble wash over her.

"One hundred twenty million," Donny was saying wonderingly. He shook his head. "And a third of that goes to the firm. What do you think our bonuses will be, Rachel? I might be able to retire a couple of years early. Or me and Beth might want to buy that cabin up in Door County. Or-"

Rachel cut him off with a raised hand. "Didn't your mom ever give you a warning about counting chickens?" she asked. "They haven't hatched yet. And if these guys don't appeal I'll..."

"Speaking of which," Donny muttered as the lead counsel for Antioch approached their table.

"Counselors," he said politely. But by the twist of his mouth, he might have been tasting acid.

~This is an enemy. Be careful.~ She blinked, having the sense of something in her mind pulling away, trying to hide from the man in front of her.

"Mr. Kincaid," she replied, matching his tone. She raised her eyebrows, inviting him to continue.

"I'd like to set up a meeting with you to discuss the appeal," he said with a faint sneer. "The punitive damages are precisely that; more punitive than the events warrant. Antioch, will, of course, take this to the Illinois appellate court."

"Of course you will," she said, her voice tinged with disgust. "Anything that allows you to bill more hours, right? Oh, to hell with it," she finished. "Fine. I should have known better than to think you and Antioch would know when you were beaten. Bring your clients over to our offices Friday morning. Make it around ten o'clock. I'll have a few representatives from our side on hand. You can make your pitch for a settlement. Again."

*****

Two days later, Josh Sunderman arrived home in a drizzling rain. He pulled into the long driveway, careful to keep the trailer hitched to the back of his truck from straying off the black asphalt and onto the grass of the lawn.

He turned off the engine and sat for a long moment in the cab, frowning at the rusty Toyota which shared the driveway with his Ford. He had deep misgivings about this trip. Rachel had hurt him too badly in the past for him to think that everything was going to be unicorns and rainbows when he returned. His former wife had a deep conservative streak which made her reactions to his work problematic. Despite her respect for how he earned a living, she simply did not understand what drove an artist. The need to push boundaries. To help people see the truth of their inner selves.

Well, you're here, he sighed to himself. Unless you want to turn around and drive back down to Peru, you're stuck here, at least until after Memorial Day. Best get to work.