Queen's Gambit Ch. 02

QUEEN'S GAMBIT CHAPTER TWO: A FORMIDABLE OPPONANT

Of course I offered Sorana the position. The other candidates were all competent enough but none possessed Sorana's charm and enigma. Not qualities necessary for a cleaner perhaps, but I was intrigued by her. Frankly, it would have taken a miracle for the job not to be hers.

The first month or so after her appointment was delightful. My apartment had never been so clean and I'd managed to rediscover my eagerness to return home each evening, an eagerness absent since my initial purchase of the property more than a year ago. The added bonus was, of course, Sorana herself. Spending time in her company had quickly become addictive and I was increasingly arranging my WFH days to coincide with her shifts. And why shouldn't I? An attractive, witty woman was spending time in my apartment. Mia might have something to say if she knew but it's not like she and I were married. As long as I wasn't inappropriate towards her Sorana, which, after the debacle of her interview I went out of my way not to be, what was the harm? We got on well and she seemed to also like my company, so there was no issue. Nope. No issue at all... I mean, the boundaries were drawn very clearly. Yes, we would enjoy some banter occasionally - she'd taken to calling me Mr. Chocolate, for example - 'oh, Mr. Chocolate home again today...' - a tad racist perhaps, but it wasn't malicious so no harm done... But otherwise, our boundaries were very clear. Nothing that Mia or anyone else should have an issue with. I was her employer. She was there to keep the place clean. I would, mostly, curb my natural inclination to gawp her while she cleaned, usually wearing only shorts or leggings with a vest top or sports bra, and she would keep in check, or attempt to keep in check, her naturally mischievous and playful disposition. Admittedly some days were better than others in this regard, but for the most part, we managed just fine.

It was unfortunate then that after what was a very positive start, things had begun to take a downwards turn. Sorana, usually so diligent and attentive had become lackadaisical in her efforts. On the days I was not home with her, I would return to find that very little, if anything had been done in the apartment. The bathroom wouldn't have been touched; dishes would be left in the kitchen, not even loaded into the dishwasher. Oddly, she also seemed to be contributing to the mess, making no effort to hide the fact that she'd enjoyed some down time with a pizza in front of the TV - the remains left in plain sight for me to find upon my return.

When I first confronted her, she said the words consistent with an apology but also seemed somehow dismissive, as though none of it was a particularly big deal, seemingly suggesting that if I had a problem it was up to me to correct it. And things got worse from there. In the coming weeks I'd come home to find broken cutlery, left on the floor no less, and a clear smell of cigarette smoke circulating through the apartment. I'm not sure whether our friendly interactions had begun to blur the boundaries between employer and employee but her standards weren't just slipping - she was, it felt to me, being deliberately disrespectful and the latest challenge to her behaviour was met with the most bizarre response.

"All I'm saying, Sorana, is that I've hired you as a cleaner and you're not really keeping the place clean anymore, you know? The opposite is true in fact."

"You no like, Matt, you can correct. I tell you this before."

"I know you have but it's not my job, Sorana, it's yours." I can feel annoyance creeping into my voice. Why should I have to correct her shoddy work?

"I honest woman, Matt. I say this thing only if I must have correct. I have mistake, I say 'okay, sorry, you can punish.'"

"Wait, what?" I laugh disbelievingly. "Punish? You're a grown woman, Sorana. I'm not going to punish you. If I'm not happy I'll talk to you, like I am now. It would be helpful if you addressed the points I've made about your actual cleaning."

"Yes, talk...but you punish also, no? I no need this. For all I do bad?"

"Of course, you don't, absolutely not." For the first time since meeting her, I'm wondering whether something is being lost in translation. Is she talking about me correcting her mistakes or punishing her for them? Does she have a different understanding to me of what punishment/correction means? "Why do you think I should punish you, Sorana?"

She's standing with her arms folded, looking at the floor.

"Matt. I have punish before. It ok. I accept."

"But you don't have to accept it. Look, I don't want to pry but whoever punished you was wrong. I mean, I don't know the circumstances but you don't have to accept that." I try to speak sympathetically. "Do you want to talk about it? You can talk to me, or there are professionals?"

Sorana doesn't seem to care much for my compassion as she sighs loudly, tapping her foot repeatedly against the white floor tiles.

"It okay, Matt." She widens her eyes to stress the point. "When I good, you say 'Sorana, good job, I give raise.' But if I no good, if I smoke in your place, you say 'Sorana, what you do! Come here!' Really, it okay. You can trust on this."

Listening to her, I'm pleased this isn't about me and she doesn't think I want to hurt her, but it's equally troubling that she's trying to persuade me it's ok to punish her. Is that what happens in Romania? It can't be. Can it? Besides, even if she feels punishment is to be expected, she can't think it's okay.             

"Look Sorana," I begin, "I don't know what you're used to but in England we don't do that kind of thing." I'm immediately aware of how condescending I sound and try to back track. "I just mean... whatever you might expect, I'm not going to do anything bad to you, okay? You don't need to worry about that." I'm pleased to be setting the record straight but Sorana seems uninterested and is muttering something in Romanian, looking to the heavens with a look of exasperation etched into her face.

"Oh God, Matt. Be man! I do bad thing, you must punish. It no difficult for understand!"

Involuntarily, I step backwards, shocked by her tone.

"Whoa there. I don't want to sound like a dick but I'm your employer, okay? I really don't appreciate being spoken to like that."

"If you are 'employer'," she does the 'air quote' gesture with her fingers which surprises me, "you must punish when cleaner do bad job."

"No Sorana. Not at all. That's completely wrong. Why are you so insistent about this?" I pause, gathering my thoughts. "Sorana. Do you...you don't actually want me to punish you, do you?" I can't believe I'm asking the question but what else am I to think?

"I want you say I do good job, or no good job. I do no good job, you can punish."

"But I can't punish you!" I'm almost pleading with her now. "You're a grown woman! This is absurd."

The August heat feels like it's closing in around us, encircling us in ring of implausibility that I would struggle to appreciate if I were not a witness to the scene. I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to drink some water but my limbs are heavy and I remain still while Sorana glares at me, seemingly considering her next move.

"Matt," she says calmly. She looks and sounds like she did during her interview, composed and authoritative. "Look how many glass I break in last weeks. Five. Six? I no clean my messy thing. I smoke in house. I no do good job, Matt. I break your place. Still no punish? You no strong, Matt?"

There's an edge to her words and a look of derision in her eyes. She'd previously joked about me being a gentle man, saying she thought 'men like me' were 'tough guys', whatever that's supposed to mean. A wave of tiredness passes over me and I feel sapped of energy.

"Sorana..." I have no clue what I want to say. "Sorana, I don't know what's going on but...I mean, this is all a bit..." I take a deep breath. "This seems ridiculous. I guess it's some kind of test, right? Some kind of game you're playing?" She allows a smile to form in the corner of her mouth but doesn't say anything. "You obviously can't want to actually be punished, right? You just want...God I don't know what you want... Do you want me to pretend to punish you?"

Her smile grows and she shrugs nonchalantly.

"If you say, Matt. Whatever make you be good boss. Strong man"

"Right... Look, I'm really not comfortable with this..." I sigh again and my voice betrays my uncertainty, "...what would I have to do? To get you to stop all this?"

She looks amused before turning around and casually bending over the marble effect counter top, propping herself up on her elbows and pointing her bum at me.

"You...want me to spank you?"

She smiles at me over her shoulder and wiggles her bum. She's got such a sweet bum, so round and plump and very in keeping with the rest of her. Watching her present herself to me like this is actually very appealing. Can I do this? What would be the harm in a little spank? Mia's face pops into my head and I force it out again. We're just dating, it's casual. Plus, it's not as though I haven't wanted to get my hands on Sorana since the moment I met her. And if it puts a stop to all this nonsense...

"Okay. Fine. I'll give it a go. Just quickly, ok? I mean, it's just a little spank..." The words are escaping my mouth before I know it, but I'm no longer making eye contact, transfixed instead by that gorgeous peach, encased beautifully in thin grey leggings. "This is just a one-time thing, okay?"

I don't wait to hear her answer as I step closer, reaching my hand out uncertainly and placing the tips of my fingers against her bum. I look up and I'm reassured to see her still smiling. My heart thumps as I allow my fingers and palm to curve against her, molding effortlessly against her curves as I gently squeeze. She's warm and fleshy. I can't help squeeze again, firmly this time, spreading my fingers so as to hold more of her. I force myself to savour the moment. I can't quite believe I'm groping Sorana's beautiful butt-cheeks, as I've wanted to since the day we met.

Continuing to squeeze, I briefly lose myself until I hear her clear her throat. She's looking back at me, imploring me with her eyes to get on with things. Lost in a world of flesh and fantasy I'd momentarily forgotten what I was supposed to be doing. I release her and draw my hand back, allowing it to hover in mid-air.

"Are you sure you want this, Sorana?" Her smile broadens as she stands on tip-toes, sticking her bum out further. "Alright then..." I take a deep breath, my hand still hovering, before bringing it down flat against Sorana's fleshy buttocks. The smack is gentle and unsure, and not punishment-like at all. "There you go. How's that?" My nerves get the better of me and my voice comes out a higher pitch than expected - insult to injury given my question was completely redundant; Sorana's face makes it abundantly clear what she thinks of my feeble attempts at correction.

"That is punish?" Her raised eyebrow and muted voice combine to score nine out of ten for contempt. "That is all you can give?"

"Well...I can do it harder if you like?" I add, hurriedly.

"No ask, Matt. Show me. Be man!" Sorana's voice is insistent now. I steel myself to slap her again, trying to recall what it looks like in pornography when women are being spanked. I close in on an image and draw my hand back before allowing it to connect again. It's a firmer connection this time. A quick upward snap of closed fingers against her curves. Her cheeks wobble and she jumps slightly, yelping a faint squeal.

"Ooh," she says, smiling at me over her shoulder. "That is punish. I sorry I no do good job, Matt. You punish more?"

"I suppose...if you want?"

Sorana doesn't speak but doesn't move either. Her jet-black ponytail hangs down one side as she stares back at me, her smile replaced with a blank expression. Of course she wants. I nod at her in acknowledgment, before striking her a third time. Unfortunately, I don't connect well and the slap ends up being worse than the first, bouncing inexactly, inadequately, off her upper thigh. She looks back with disappointment writ large across her face.

"Sorry," I say, instantly embarrassed that I'm apologising to my cleaner for not properly administering corporeal punishment. It's crazy and that moment of clarity smacks me far more effectively than I managed on Sorana. "Look, this is stupid," I say, taking a step back. "I'm sorry but I can't play this game with you. It just isn't me. I'm sorry, okay?"

Sorana straightens and turns to face me, sighing as she does. Despite her obvious dissatisfaction, I feel a sense of relief at having finally put an end to this nonsense. The ring of implausibility now expanding and allowing me space to breathe.

"Listen, I like you, Sorana. We get on well, yes?" She stares at me blankly. "Let's just go back to you doing a good job, like you did when you first started. Please don't break anything else or smoke inside because I'm not going to punish you. All that will happen is I end up firing you, and I don't want that. Let's just stop the games, okay?"

The sun streaming through the kitchen window seems to spotlight Sorana as I watch for her reaction, but she simply continues staring at me for what is an uncomfortably long time. When I don't speak, she eventually breaks the silence.

"So. You no punish." Her voice is flat and her accent almost adds threat to her words.

"That's right. I tried because you were so insistent." I decide to leave out the part of my explanation that admits to wanting to feel her up. "But it's silly and inappropriate. I won't do it anymore. I'm sorry."

"Okay," she says, before muttering something in Romanian and shaking her head. She's motionless as she holds on to her look of displeasure. She seems concentrated on not allowing her face to change, as though I could be in any doubt about how she feels. As I wait to hear what she's going to say, I see a flash of defiance in her eyes, right before she closes them. She looks like she's about to throw a tantrum.

"Sorana?"

After a few seconds her eyes open again. Fixing them on me, she crosses her arms, smirking.

"Look Sorana, I don't know what you're thinking but I won't change my mi..."

My voice trails off as my gaze is drawn towards her legs. Like some kind of dynamic art installation, her grey leggings are slowly becoming darker around her thighs and it takes me a second to register what's happening. Lines of dark grey begin forming down her leg as yellow droplets find liberation on the ground.

I stare in open-mouthed horror as Sorana proceeds to wet herself in front of me. The dark lines are joining up and creating big wet patches around her crotch and down the inside and front of her thighs. The piss trickles down her legs, forming in a yellow pool all over my white floor tiles. Drops of urine fall from her crotch and bounce off the floor, splashing her green pumps. I'm rooted to the spot, unable to take my eyes off her, only able to look on in in horrified disbelief as she places a fingertip between her lips and smiles at me, her almond eyes wide with mock innocence. When she's finished, she speaks with a lightness of tone.

"Oh no. I make piss all on floor." She giggles. "It okay, Matt? No punish? Ha-ha. Maybe I make you to clean? Maybe you drink from floor? Ha-ha."

Sorana's tactics are transparent and crude but they work. My face is burning and my chest is tight as anger rises within me.

"I...I can't believe you just did that. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sorana watches me, smiling. Her nonchalance is astounding.

"You're disgusting, do you know that? Disgusting. Who just pisses all over the floor? Who does that? Have you no shame?"

I wait for her to speak but she continues smiling at me, saying nothing. I can feel myself boiling over.

"DON'T YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? SAY SOMETHING FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

Sorana meets my stare and replies matter-of-factly.

"You want I say something? I say man who allow this thing, is no real man." Her tone is venomous. "You are real man, Matt? Or girly-boy? Ha-ha-ha."

I literally cannot believe what I'm hearing.

"FINE! You want a real man? You want to play games?" I'm shaking with rage as I grab her arm and pull her across the room, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. Restraint and English reserve have now been replaced with raw, primal instinct and my head is spinning as the words pour out of me. "You want punishment? I'll give you a fucking punishment. Bend over." My speech is irregular. The anger-induced tremor making my words uneven.

"Okay." she replies, breezily, her eyes shining with anticipation. "I take punish for be bad."

She turns around, bending at the waist and sticking her bum in the air. Her leggings stink of piss as the large wet patch around her inner thighs stare mockingly at me. Placing my hand against her dry buttock, I take aim before planting a firm slap.

"Ooh," she exclaims, looking back at me over her shoulder. She's still smiling but more tentatively now. I give her another smack, a stinging, whole palm that connects perfectly with her fleshy buttock.

"OWW. That hard!" Despite her words, her eyes radiate satisfaction. "Now I see you can punish... That is two. I sorry for break five glass, Matt."

I understand her subtle command.

"It was six actually. But you're right, I forgot to count. I'll have to start again."

She smiles broadly.

"Why the fuck are you smiling? Should you be smiling when you're being punished?" I give her two more slaps, my fingers stinging the same spot twice in quick succession.

"OW! I sorry for smile, Matt. I no like. Only I want make you happy."

"Why the fuck would I be happy? You just pissed all over my fucking floor! You've broken six glasses in two weeks. Your cigarettes have stunk the place out. You've been doing a shitty job cleaning. Why would any of that make me happy!"

"I sorry, Matt. I deserve punish for this."

"Yes, you do. Bend!"

She's almost completely doubled over as I slap her again, three times, hard, all on the same cheek. She flinches and wriggles but doesn't try to move away.

"I...I sorry for break glass, Matt. I take care now."

"Will you? Bit late for that, isn't it?" I slap the other cheek, again three times. Firm upward strokes that cause her body to jolt.

"I'm tired of your poor performance. Things need to improve. Understand?" I raise my hand indicating what she can expect if things don't get better. "That's if I even decide to keep you employed after today, you dirty tramp."

Wow, where did that came from?

"I understand. I sorry, Matt. Thank you for help me be better."

I don't know what Sorana and I are doing but I'm suddenly aware that despite what feels like genuine anger, I am also rather aroused. I don't think I've experienced arousal and anger at the same time before.

"Now, what shall we do about the floor? That was quite the stunt you pulled. Look at the mess you made." I gesture to the yellow puddle where we were previously stood.

"I sorry, for wet myself, Matt. It accident. Please no make me suck you."

"It wasn't a fucking accident," I shout, incredulous at her brazen attempts at gaslighting me. "You stood there and pissed yourself right in front of me! And now you're telling lies too?" I give her ass another stinging slap. "And who said anything about sucking me? That's what you want isn't it?"

"No, I no want. Only if you make me to suck." Her eyes are wide and innocent. "Please make me." She quickly corrects herself, shaking her head. "No, I mean please no make me!"

"You just asked me to make you suck my dick. That's what you want, isn't it? You want to wrap your lips around my cock? Are you a little slut, Sorana?"