Lucille Nailed It Ch. 10

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Chrissie retrieves sketches locked in Lucille's mind.
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Part 10 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/06/2016
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Preparing to go to a formal dinner, Lucille checked her hair in the mirror and touched the black comb.

That comb, thought Lucille remains the first truly significant present she was ever given and still possessed. She received it when she'd just turned nineteen, a going away present from the eternally soulful Maria, a virtual orphan who was raised in a family of nine and being, as she'd described, "the most unpopular child of the brood".

That's why her compassion was triggered when finding Lucille on the street. She saw the street waif had the good physical looks that as a child she'd prayed to be bestowed with, believing perhaps that would release her from being the ugly duckling of her family.

That symbolic presentation of a gift costing perhaps 60c or less unleashed an emotion within Lucille, revealing to her the art of giving with love as Maria had cherished that trinket. In comparison, Mrs Graham gave Lucille free use of a car but the act wasn't the same as that vehicle had been handed across as a business decision as she preferred to be driven by Lucille in the limousine instead of a hired driver.

Lucille deeply acknowledged he gift Mrs Graham had bestowed on her was declaring Lucille was her protégé and adhering to that commitment devotedly. Mrs Graham changed her from being 'a nobody' into somebody capable of making some impact on the world around her.

Lucille sighed, thinking even today she found it incredible that just one person could do all that for her. She really hoped she could work Chrissie out of her constraints to set herself free.

Not everything had been removed from her early life, thought Lucille. At times when feeling low and hearing footsteps she would tense as if expecting one of more of the older girls were approaching to whack her or to interfere with her body. She quickly dropped that recollection to relive other brighter chapters in her life.

She thought it would be difficult for family-raised people to completely comprehend the loneliness of an emotionally deprived orphan. It's easy to say everyone has emotions and know what they are and how to respond and to use them. Yes, very easy indeed.

Who does a young orphan run to when hurt, especially in earlier times before social reforms provided true orphans with an improved environment, a better deal - that is, in more progressive countries? Yet probably some children grew up within dysfunctional families virtually as orphans.

Regular-life people could not comprehend the bewilderment of Lucille to learn, aged five, she no longer had parents and would live in a 'home' for other children who were like her. She'd received that news incomprehensibly.

"Like her." What did that mean? Such a concept had been foreign to her. She was like other children, wasn't she? All kids were the same!

Well had she managed at five to work that out she was about to commence a steep learning curve how would she have coped with that emotionally.

Who loves you at the orphanage: indeed what is love?"

It was inevitable that some children would become orphans and life made provision for that; it's called the reality and lucky ones like her would escape its grip although never quite completely.

She sighed and thought that was enough of that.

Lucille switched to recalling shifting into her 'loft' apartment as the building team called it. She still lived there and these days the décor, fittings and furnishings were far more luxurious.

As her businesses prospered she received more money to progressively upgrade all of MagWorld including her loft, er her apartment.

She recalled shifting in on a Saturday morning, assisted by Mo and Chrissie who'd called in Digger who called Andrew to help and Andrew arrived with his family.

Ashleigh brought her husband Martin with a teenager babysitter to look after their two children.

Before all the greetings/introductions were completed the first of four vehicles with new furniture and Lucille's personal possessions from her former apartment that was now Chrissie's arrived. Then editor Sue West and her husband and Geneva and Angus McKeon and Lucille's managing director Lance Edison and wife Brigit all arrived together.

Lucille couldn't believe it - for someone who had no one she certainly had numerous people who thought she was worth pitching in to help. None of them had been asked to help out.

Almost overcome to tears she said to Angus McKeon, "How am I going to feed all of these people."

"Easy," Angus grinned. "I'll fix it."

Minutes later he found Lucille and said he'd called a Chinese family who did his outside catering at home and at equestrian events.

"They'll be here within the hour and will be ready to serve lunch at 2:00. I've asked my liquor supplier to deliver the booze at 12.30 to allow us to get warmed up for lunch."

"That's lovely of you Angus - just send me the..."

"Push off Lucille; it's my treat. No wait - that friend of yours, Ashleigh. I was wondering..."

"You'd like her private line phone number?"

"Er yes, good guess."

"Give me your little black book."

Angus handed her a little blue book, looking sheepish.

Lucille wrote in the name Ash and the number and Angus appeared grateful. She whispered that her lips were sealed.

"You know, Lucille - you and I ought to be doing business together. Also there's a cute little place I know of up in the hills..."

Lucille blushed knowing she'd soon be at the 'cute little place' in the hill with Angus' daughter,

"I'm too busy for dirty business at weekends right now Angus. But thanks for almost asking. Why don't you ask Geneva - she'd get a great kick out of being invited to relive old dirty weekends. She might even become so excited she'll be more than you can handle."

Lucille walked away and turned, expecting Angus to be staring at her butt. Instead he was rubbing his chin, looking at his wife's butt; Geneva was bending down to lift up a box of crockery.

Being in jodhpurs and boots, the rear of Geneva looked mouth-watering even to another woman, thought Lucille. She didn't think twice before giving that phone number to that compulsive seducer. However she thought it would be miraculous for Angus if Ashleigh did go to him; Ashleigh would know she deserved better than him because being wealthy in her own right. Opening her legs for a man who radiated power and acted as he could seduce any woman he eyed would not impress Ashleigh.

The man who'd designed and supervised the fitting out of the loft apartment Tony Modotti called and was invited to have a drink and stay for lunch. Later Lucille took him on an inspection and as they entered the bedroom she heard the door close and the key turn. Without looking back she closed the drapes and s recalled that Tony could have caused her pregnancy; she still was not showing.

"Something wrong - second thoughts?" Tony asked, coming up behind her, cupping her breasts and burying his mouth into her hair, turning and licking her neck.

"No not really but use a condom."

"Okay and it will have to be a quickie I suppose as your guests will wonder where we are."

Tony was a good fuck, sighed Lucille, which was why she hadn't resisted. His penis was fairly large, he was fit enough to sustain a powerful drive and accelerating when it counted. She also liked his snarling grunts as he approached ejaculation.

She heard the sound of a zip being pulled.

"Here sweetheart, roll it on for daddy," requested the adulterer and father of three.

"Yes daddy - your little girl will do that for you."

"Legs apart, hands for support firmly on the dresser."

"B-but the bed?"

"This is quicker."

Lucille followed instructions, felt her skirt being flipped over her butt and then he pulled her panties aside and pushed in, almost in a continuous movement. There was not a great deal of resistance because she was already so wet in anticipation.

Tony slammed into her, starting at quite a pace, his fingers digging into her small breasts almost painfully. Items on the dresser were rattling with the vibration and they stared at each other in the mirror - her pale green eyes versus his watery blue ones.

She didn't blink for quite some time, but he did and she saw his eyes begin to widen and reached down to finger her clit and they saw in the mirror her eyes widened. She began panting and watched her tongue loll to the side of her mouth - not a pretty picture. Then she was engulfed in passion and creamed against his plunging condom-encased cock.

"Jeeze, that was quick," he grunted.

"I'm about to blow once more," she sighed, feeling the wave build up and seemingly break over her and she groaned into a release.

Tony was snarling as he bit into the back of her neck, none too gently and as the pounding intensified she saw his eyes roll up into his sockets and his face become contorted.

"Tony!" she urged.

"Right," he said, groaning, and pulling away sideways he ripped off the condom and blasted in three convulsions, mostly over the dresser mirror.

"Leave it to dry and you'll have something to slowly lick each day for a week," he grinned evilly.

Lucille unexpectedly convulsed again, neither of them touching her in sensitive places.

"You're a toad, a naughty man to your wife," she chided, heading to the bathroom.

"I'm quickly fixing up and heading back to my guests. You stay here and clean up that mess, thoroughly, you naughty boy.

* * *

On Friday morning, before Lucille left with Chrissie for the mountain retreat, her doctor confirmed her pregnancy appeared to be moving along perfectly normally and gave her several sheets of information and a schedule of future appointments.

Half an hour into the drive Chrissie, at the wheel, said: "Can I comment on something you might not wish to hear."

"You know me, nothing much ever shocks me."

Chrissie glanced quickly at Lucille and then Lucille saw Chrissie's knuckles on the steering wheel whitened and she gripped tighter.

"I wish you and I were lovers then we could really gain big benefit from this weekend."

To Chrissie's total surprise Lucille burst into tears.

"What? Oh God, I'm sorry for saying that. Look let's pull over up ahead and have coffee. I'm sorry - so sorry."

Lucille stuck her hand over her mouth and faced away from Chrissie and rocked her head against the side window.

Chrissie attempted to escort Lucille into the tearooms but Lucille made it clear she didn't want to be touched. This behavior from the so-called 'heartless bitch' alarmed Chrissie.

Red-eyed Lucille said she wanted herbal tea, preferable lemon scented.

Lemon tea, for Lucille who drank coffee by the pint! Chrissie was really worried, wondering had her friend and boss been attacked by cancer.

"I'm sorry and there's no need to make a face but I just lost it for a moment. I visited my doctor this morning; I'm pregnant."

Chrissie felt a huge release - it wasn't cancer, just a baby.

Huh a baby and whose the father - Bob Song?"

That appeared to stagger Lucille who frowned severely. "Who told you that?"

"Well no one else has had the chance to impregnate, or have they?"

Lucille shrugged.

Chrissie smiled and said, "Oooh naughty girl."

"I missed my period and at times felt a little nauseated. Then my breasts began tingling for no apparent reason and that confirmed to me I was pregnant and I vomited yesterday mid-morning for no apparent reason. Please don't tell anyone. I have to figure out how to avoid Bob believing he's the father."

"It's easy to handle that one. If he asks tell him how they hell would you know as you have been playing the field."

"Oh Chrissie I couldn't lie like that."

"In that case he'll believe he's the father. Look at it from his perspective. If he believes he's been the only one at you, then he will think he's the father. End of story. Get your lawyer and squeeze cock-happy Bob for a fortune as his contribution towards parenting. Also book him to be a baby sitter."

"Chrissie?"

"What?"

"Oh never mind. I'm not particularly happy of hearing that sort of talk within the hearing of my unborn child."

A disastrous weekend was now in prospect but that didn't happen - quite the reverse in fact.

Chrissie and Lucille slept together, cuddling and stroking but not having sex.

Then on Saturday morning, feeling the vibes coming from Lucille so strongly, Chrissie was almost in a panic. "I'm calling a doctor - you're not well."

"Rubbish the time has come."

"What you're going to abort...w-what do I do," Chrissie asked, panicking.

"Nothing silly; just swing your chair out - yes that's it and stay still and I'll come closer. You are not to touch anywhere else but where I tell you."

Wide-eyed and anxious, Chrissie said: "I'm not liking this, Lucille; I'm not liking this one bit and..."

"Be quiet. Now put your hands on my temples."

Lucille sat upright, eyes closed and a serene expression on her face.

With it being so quiet and scarcely able to hear Lucille breath, Chrissie began to relax.

After five minutes Chrissie opened her mouth as if to complain just as Lucille opened her eyes and stared without blinking into Chrissie's eyes.

Chrissie gulped and froze, the pink running from her face.

"My God, it's happening," she whispered. "I can seek things."

"Hush."

Suddenly Chrissie felt very tired and felt like resting.

"That will do for this session," Lucille said. "Just remember what we did. My understanding is now we have made the initial connection it will be easier from now on."

"Easier you say; I feel fucked."

"The baby."

Chrissie looked disbelievingly at Lucille but then played along: "Sorry."

Lucille told Chrissie to rest, to sleep if she wished. She was going to walk down the track to the river where she'd rest, looking at the water.

Perhaps it was two hours later - Lucille wasn't wearing a watch at time had flashed by as if she were in a trance. As she neared the lodge Chrissie came flying out the door and rushed towards here screaming, "It's worked, it's worked. Some of these designs are no longer in fashion but others are classics and there's one unbelievably modern..."

"Green, wide skirt cut above the knees, halter neck and built-in bra."

"Yes, except I didn't see a built-in bra."

Lucille smiled. "That's amazing."

"Just look," urged her heavily breathing companion.

"Well, not that one - I know what you would have drawn - it's my concept, you know. Show me what else you have drawn."

Their hostess appeared on the terrace of her house, several meters away from the lodge. "All the shouting...I became alarmed; is everything all right?"

"Yes Mrs Rogers. Come over for coffee," Lucille said. "A miracle has occurred and we'll share our secret if you and Mr Rogers promise not to tell anyone."

"Geoff and I tell no one about our guests or what they do here. That's why our terms of trade bear our signed guarantee of payment of $5000 for any and all proven breaches of confidentially by Geoff and Angela Rogers. Geoff is not here - he's down at the artist's cooperative - he does all their printing."

Lucille and Chrissie glanced at one another.

"You mean a real art center with art paper and commercial quality paints and brushes and crayons that I could use for a fee?" Chrissie asked.

"Oh goodness no, that's not necessary. Geoff and I both paint - the entire east wing of our home is one big studio. You are welcome to use our facilities, free of charge. But why would you want to spoil a good holiday weekend by working?"

"Come with us and all will be revealed Mrs Rogers."

"Call me Angela or Angel if you wish."

Chrissie said in disbelief, "Angel Roger - no 's' in your name, an esteemed painter in acrylics of Australian birdlife - we studied your work at art school."

"That's me dear, and what is your specialty?"

"Chrissie sketches fashion clothing," Lucille said. "This morning she discovered she's acquired a tremendous new talent which is going to make a name for me for my concepts that would be nothing without her. We are about to tell you a fascinating story."

Lucille and Chrissie had five more 'transfer' sessions during the remainder of their stay, those latest ones being newly generated concepts created by Lucille that included beachwear and outback wear creations. They returned to the city with fifteen properly sketched and rendered drawings by Chrissie that all had met with Lucille's approval.

"Our America sister publication will rave about some of these," Chrissie said. "They set new design parameters."

"Perhaps so," Lucille said modestly, "but none of those beachwear and outback clothing designs will be published until Ashleigh has first choice to pitch to purchase any design for her exclusive use. I owe her that consideration."

On the drive home Lucille questioned Chrissie about her longer term plans and aspirations. They all were career choices, none involving alignment with her father's businesses.

"What about Digger."

"What about Digger?"

"You haven't mentioned him in your future yet you periodically appear to be sleeping with him and socializing with him."

"He hasn't given me any sign of long-term interest."

"Do you want to marry him?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll fix it for you - no objection, no interference - all I require from you is full co-operation."

"But..."

The look on Lucille's face halted Chrissie's objection; Lucille clearly had slipped into a mind-set over this; there was no chance of diverting her without killing her and that certainly was not a consideration.

Digger accepted Lucille's invitation to dinner. He asked why the invitation only to be told not to be nosey. He mumbled well the two people he'd do anything for were his mother and Lucille.

Digger, seated alone, was on to his second whisky when Lucille arrived at the restaurant.

He knew without initially looking it would be her rather that a nude madman exhibiting his dick showing bite marks because conversation in the entire room halted and there was no sound of alarm.

He turned in this chair and confirmed Lucille had arrived wearing one of her creations that Chrissie had told him how she'd pulled a number of designs by mental transfer out of Lucille's mind. Ashleigh Avon's gown division people would have produced the gown for Lucille to test public reaction before production of it commenced.

Digger, well used to exposed flesh, was unable to prevent his mouth from almost hitting his chest over this number - the gown appeared to be black extra shiny silk with a bright red collar that appeared to also be a hood that fell away from the shoulders; there was no neck, only a deep V that stopped at the top of her panties - that is, if she were wearing any,

The bodice was attached to an exposed black bra with a wide strap connecting the cups. Apparently that being the only support that prevented the dress from falling to Lucille's waist where there was a red thin woven tie matching the color of the hood. The hanging tie reached the hem of the dress that was only a hand-span lower than her, er, groin.

Digger's tongue licked his lips. Hastily he pulled his tongue back into place, noticing the matching 6in high multi-strapped shoes in the same red as the tie and hood.

Some women on one side of the room, probably drunk, stood and clapped and then women throughout the room jumped to their feet and joined in, greatly embarrassing their partners, some of whom was struggling to pull their women back into their chairs before admonishing them to behave.

"I'll fetch a rug or something to cover you," Digger offered.

"Behave yourself Digger and order me champagne; the bottle is bound to be complimentary because the proprietor will be phoning the social editor of the Sydney Morning Herald."

"Why."

12