Six Months

Six Months

~~ North Lake Tahoe, NV, 2084 ~~

Charles Norton, the manager of the black card club Paradise Twist in Reno, Nevada, set the message up for everyone arriving to receive. Single slave wanted for a six-month job. Duties included caring for and assisting a blind, disabled man with various small tasks, standing in as his slave, and date during events hosted by his family. The offered wage caused a lot of the single girls to squeal excitedly, six hundred thousand for six months was a fantastic deal, however, the list of duties gave most of them pause. Sex with someone, sure, but actually having to be a slave? That was different. Nathan still had a large number of applicants and set up a meeting in the back room of his club to interview people there, in somewhat neutral territory. The manager of the club would be sat nearby during it to give him input after each interview.

Her voice crooned out over the noises of the club, thick, husky with a low tenor. She held the final note for a long moment, then allowed it to fade. There was scattered applause as she stepped back. She didn't expect much really, unlike most of the others there she was dressed fairly sedately with hints of rope under her clothes. The only unique aspect of it was the kitten ears and tail she wore, the belt around her hips. As much as she loved the plug she wasn't going to wear it for extended amounts of time.

She contemplated the message, then quietly approached Charles, "Is he a good man?" She asked softly, looking up at him. At his head tilt, "Mister Mikelson, is he a good man?"

"He's been one of my best friends since we were in nappies," the massive man smiled, a near-blinding grin against his ebony skin. When she didn't look away, "Yes, he's a good man. Why? You thinking about applying?"

"Yes," she murmured. "My little brother was accepted to Oxford on a partial scholarship," she offered softly, "The money from that would be very useful to help pay for his living expenses."

"He's good for it. Lives in a mansion up by Tahoe. His folks are old enough that they've got to be in a larger city, San Francisco if I remember right, for medical specialists and such. He's got a few staff... Cook, Cleaner, Groundskeep that doubles as his driver, but... " Charles shrugged.

"Yeah, he'd just have to pick me," she smiled wryly. "Yes, I'll apply. The worst that can happen is he'll say no and I'm no better nor worse than when I started."

"Truth," he smirked, Charles studied her for a long moment, "Wear the cat ears with the bells."

"OK?"

"Trust me," Charles said with a broad smile.

"I always do," she agreed. She turned to go out, waving behind her. She would submit her application when she got home, then request to be last so it didn't interfere with her current work schedule.

Sitting in the back room during another day of interviews, Nathan rubbed his temples for a long moment. "This is stupid, Charles. No one is going to want to be what I need them to be. Hell, even I think what my parents are asking is ridiculous. Between that and the fact that I can't fucking do anything myself...," he trailed off in frustration.

"One more, then you can scream," Charles offered with a smirk. "You'll like this one. She came up and asked me about you."

"Oh?" he asked. "Well, at least that's new. Half these girls you'd think couldn't even read the way they didn't pay attention to anything the advertisement said..." he huffed. "What did she ask? 'Does he have a limo'?"

"Funnily enough, no," Charles smirked, "Her question was 'Is he a good man?'."

"HA!" Nathan barked. "Well the answer to that's a big, giant 'no'...," he scoffed.

"No, the answer was yes," Charles corrected dryly. "She works for me, I knew what she wanted to know. You're just being an ass."

"Duh. That's why the answer's 'no'...," he laughed. "She works for you, huh? You going to be OK losing her for six months in the surprising event that she pans out?" he asked.

"She's one of my lounge singers," he responded, "I won't be pleased, but we'll survive. Plus it's a good opportunity for her and I am not going to talk about why. I don't want to muddy the waters."

He nodded. That was one of the things he liked about Charles, aside from the fact that they had been friends forever. He understood the way business dealings ought to be and they never ran into conflicts doing business together the way some family or friends did. "Fair enough. All right, let's get this over with. Bring her in."

Charles pulled out his phone and sent a text, it was a few moments later that Nathan heard her come in. It wasn't the squeak of a shoe, or a click of a heel, just the soft sound of bells. "Welcome, Isobel, this is Nathan Mikelson. Nathan, this is Isobel."

Nathan's head was cocked to the side, the bells a little surprising. A happy sound, and one he could pinpoint easily. "Good evening, Isobel. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please forgive me for not rising to greet you."

"The pleasure is mine and of course," she murmured, her voice soft and husky, "I am capable of reading." She snapped her mouth closed at the sarcastic response. She swallowed, "My apologies, the last was a little snappish."

Nathan slowly turned to look in Charles' direction, slightly off, but it was understandable. Charles could see his mouth twitching. Finally, a soft chuckle came out in response to a grin from Charles that he couldn't see. "Quite all right, Isobel. I believe that you are already familiar with Charles' sense of humor working with him..." He paused, then looked back in her direction and smirked. "I taught him everything he knows."

"I see," her nose crinkled slightly though he didn't see it. She swallowed and then continued to move forward, the bells on her ears chiming and soothing her. "Pertinent information then, I am twenty-four, oldest of four. Single, as your advertisement requested, I have training in CPR and massage. I see no issues with the requested list of duties, however for both your safety and mine, particularly when it comes to bathing I will need to know the extent of the physical disability as you can't exactly have a cane safely in the shower."

"Braced, yes. Moved, no. I have Talipes Equinus, a form of what you might call, 'club foot'," he explained. "That and being almost completely blind make getting around... interesting."

She made a soft noise, inclining her head as her ears jingled slightly, "Next question, these... events. Are they a mix-and-match style? Will I be required to dance or will it be mostly mingling and or eating?"

"They are gala events. Charities mostly, that I... or my parents... donate to. You will accompany and stay with me. Dancing will be kept to an absolute minimum. A couple of hours of waltz and tango and such at most. Perhaps a Charleston or two...," he trailed off with a wry smile. "Mingling and eating. Perhaps some champagne."

"I can handle a waltz and even a proper tango, but I will not do a Charleston," she murmured, her nose wrinkled slightly in offense, "Horrible dance that one is. I enjoy eating and mingling but is it possible to skip the champagne? I am not fond of alcoholic-flavored angry water."

"You enjoy mingling... Well, I suppose that makes one of us...," he muttered. "Yes, avoiding the champagne is simple enough."

She inclined her head, "Now, do you have questions for me?"

"Why?" he asked. "And answering 'six hundred thousand reasons' is off the table. Why would you want to spend the next six months waiting hand and foot on a bitter, mostly-blind gimp?"

She raised a hand, "First, the list did not include waiting on you hand and foot," she tilted her head. "As for the rest, it's simple. I'm a true slave. My existence, my core is to serve another, to care for, support, and provide comfort to another. My joy, pleasure, and happiness come from that service."

"OK. Perhaps the turn of phrase was a bit of an exaggeration. But after interviewing...," he trailed off, closing his eyes and continuing in a tired voice, "an absurd number of 'slaves', you would be surprised at how many aren't actually interested in the 'life' part of 'lifestyle'." He paused again, finally opening his eyes, "And you understand that this is not some sort of 'vacation' to live in a mansion for six months, or... 'someplace to bring a potential boyfriend or Master you are courting'? This is six months of me and the few staff I have?"

"Mmm, it is a position of help and service. I do not have a boyfriend, potential or otherwise, nor do I have a Master I am courting. This is, according to your advertisement, two to three months of living with you and your staff to become accustomed to being with you, then two to three months of alternating being with you and your staff interspersed with gala events involving your parents. I am to be your comfort, care, and place of safety during this with my focus exclusively on you."

He turned toward Charles and looked in his direction for several moments. "You know... if you'd have led with her, we could have been done days ago," he grumped.

"I missed you," Charles responded unrepentantly, "Plus, she had to make arrangements to be able to be gone for six months."

"You do realize that I've literally lived in the same place for fifteen years. The address is in your phone, idiot...," he replied blandly. Turning to look back in her direction, he said, "So... You're hired, obviously... When could you start?"

"I'll need to pack a few things and grab my laptop," she murmured. "How soon would you like me to start?"

"Well, the Gala season starts toward the end of October and lasts through New Year's. If you start within the next week or two, that should give us about three months before we have to put our game face on and deal with the public," he mused.

"Alright," she mused, tapping her finger against her lower lip. "Why don't I spend the next two days getting my apartment ready for long distance, pack my things? I'll drive to your place on Sunday and plan on starting Monday."

"That sounds just fine. Charles can give you my address. He has it, even if he never uses it," Nathan smiled wryly, "and when you get to the gate, just hit the buzzer. I'll let Rodrigo know you're coming and he'll let you in."

"Sounds good," she rose to her feet, "Just one thing first. I would like a hug."

He froze, looking toward Charles, then back toward her, he asked, "A... hug?" The conversation had just taken a side-step through a portal and ended up in an alternate universe that looked something like a funhouse in an amusement park.

"You know, I put my arms around you, you put your arms around me, we embrace." She wrinkled her nose, "A hug."

"I...," he started, his brow furrowed as he cocked his head to the side, slightly. "Um... OK?" he agreed softly, still wondering where this was headed.

She walked around the desk, making sure he could hear her coming, "I am going to put my arms around you now," she murmured. She slowly slid her arms around him, making sure he could feel her, then he was held, soft warmth against his cheek with the sound of a steady heartbeat in his ears, and the smell of gardenias filled his nose. Her cheek rested against the top of his head. "If I'm going to be your comfort, it's going to call for hugs and cuddles along with casual touches," she murmured logically. "So if you were going to freak out because of my touch then it'd be better to know now before I officially start."

"Oh...," he breathed softly, the touch unfamiliar, strange, but not unpleasant. Slowly, his arms came up and gently wrapped around her as well. "I suppose that... well... I suppose I hadn't really considered that. Not that it would have mattered with anyone else anyway..."

She pushed his chair back from the desk, then turned sideways and slid into his lap. Her head was tucked under his chin and he could feel a faint tickle and hear the soft bells. "I'm wearing cat ears with bells in them," she offered. "My bracelet also has bells on it."

"Cat ears... I was wondering about the bells. I like them. It... well... it makes it easier to find you." He paused, then swallowed before asking, "Do you prefer to be called Isobel or... perhaps... Kitten?"

She squeaked softly and shivered, "I like Kitten." She giggled, "That does explain why Charles told me to wear my bells." She sighed and squeezed him just a little bit tighter before slowly releasing him. "Alright, I will be at your address on Sunday afternoon."

He nodded, releasing her as well, despite suddenly not wishing to. "I will ensure that Helen knows that you will be there for supper," he replied.

"Excellent, I have no food allergies, except I kinda die if I don't get it," she smirked, sliding out of his lap, he felt a soft, furry warmth cross his hand from her tail. "Master Manager Charles? Text me the address, please. I'm going to go get my ducks in a row and the cats corralled." She walked out of the room, the soft chime of bells fading, the only sound of her leaving.

"Told you...," Charles smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, you son of a bitch. I still think you could have led with her. Besides, all my good alcohol is out at the house anyway, and don't tell me you don't like Helen's cooking," he grumped.

"Yes, but after seeing all the other applicants you'll be more appreciative," Charles said wisely, "If I had led with her you wouldn't have realized how special she actually is." He paused, "I am glad you picked her though."

Nathan nodded. "I'm glad she applied. I was getting really discouraged."

Charles asked then, "Why haven't you tried this before?"

"Because it's embarrassing," Nathan growled. "Yes, there is a certain... appeal to having a slave but not being able to bathe myself well? Or find something I dropped on the floor to pick it up?" he said in exasperation. "It's... humiliating." He paused for a moment, then added, "I'd still be trying to deal with it myself if my parents hadn't started getting a burr up their asses about marriage and grandkids and such. I thought there was only one biological clock...," he sighed heavily.

"Well, now you have her," Charles murmured with a smirk. "Now, let's have a drink and celebrate."

Nathan sat pensively staring into the fire at his house. It was Sunday and she was due to arrive any minute. The contracts had been signed and filed on Friday with e-signatures on both parts. The background check had come back clean, and not only was she single, she had never had a boyfriend or a partner, even at twenty-four, something that was almost unheard of in this day and age.

It was then that the buzzer chimed, "It's Kitten," came the soft, warm voice of Isobel.

"Come in, my dear. Come in...," the thick, Hispanic voice echoed from the speaker. The gate lifted slowly allowing her car through. She pulled through and it went back down. A tree-lined driveway greeted her and led her back to a large, brick roundabout where she pulled her car off to the side. Walking out to meet her was a man, probably forty-five, dressed in overalls and a checkered flannel jacket. "Bienvendios, Isobel. Me llamo Rodrigo. Me gusto conocerle. [Welcome, Isobel. My name is Rodrigo. I am happy to meet you.]"

She smiled up at him, "Buenas tardes. Es un placer conocerte." [Good evening. It's a pleasure to meet you.] She opened her trunk and pulled out a suitcase and a duffle bag. "¿Dónde debo aparcar mi coche?" [Where should I park my car?]

"Aqui esta bien ahora. Solamente tenemos la unica otra... [Here is fine for now. We only have the other one...]" She started to move toward the house and he put out his hand to stop her. "Dejame... Dejame, por favor, mija... [Allow me... Allow me, please, my child...]" He reached out and took her luggage with a smile. "Una mujer belleza como usted no debe de llevar sus bolsos propios... [A beautiful lady such as yourself shouldn't carry your own bags...]"

She sighed, then smiled at him, deciding not to argue, "Gracias. ¿Dónde estará Natán?" [Thank you. Where is Nathan?]

'Esta adentro en su estudio. Le muestro a su cuarto y entonces, se lo llevo. [He's inside in his study. I'll show you to your room and then I'll take you to him]," Rodrigo smiled, carrying her bags and leading her inside the house. It was a single-story mansion. Not huge in number of rooms, but each room was large. Her bedroom, she found, was right across the hall from his and it was larger than her apartment's bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen combined. The bed was massive and looked extremely comfortable. "Este es su casa. Se hace comodo aqui, si? [This is your home. Make yourself comfortable here, yes?]"

"Gracias," she murmured, "Podemos poner las maletas en la cama. [We can just put the suitcases on the bed.] "Guardaré mis cosas más tarde." [I will put my things away later.]

He did so, then led her to the study, the two of them talking in quiet Spanish. The soft chime of her ears was a counterpoint to the words. Finally, he knocked on the door, "Isobel está aquí, Maestro." [Isobel is here, Master.]

"Ah, Isobel. I thought I heard bells. Come in, come in," he said, pulling the tablet he was looking at away from his face. It had been, perhaps six inches from his nose. Then, he slid off some of the thickest glasses she had ever seen and looked up in her direction. "I trust you found the place OK?"

She smirked, then unable to resist drolled out, "Obviously." She winked and walked over to him, "Yes, my GPS worked just fine, and the additional insight Master Manager Charles gave me before I left helped." She leaned forward and slid her arms around him, hugging him again. "How are you feeling?"

"Well... apparently there hasn't been enough snark in my life. My staff here seem... reticent to joust the way you do, so that is looking up," he chuckled, returning her hug gently, amazed at how such a simple thing affected him so. "Truthfully, there is a part of me that still worries that this is a bad idea. That I am a horrible person for even entertaining it..."

"It's a mad idea," she offered, then turned sideways and slid into his lap. "Completely bonkers, but it's not a bad idea. You need me, I need to be needed. Everything else will come out in the wash," she tucked her head under his chin. "Besides it's too late, I'm in your house, in your lap, and going to be eating your food. On a scale of one to ten my friend you're fucked." She giggled.

Rodrigo watched with wide eyes, then a smirk appeared that neither saw before stepping out of the room and closing the door. That was so cute, he went to whisper to Helen and Estelle about it. The three giggled as they plotted how to encourage their relationship.

"Did Rodrigo show you around the house?" he asked.

"He showed me my room and the study," she responded with a giggle. "I can roam around later and explore. I wanted to see you and now I'm hugging you. We didn't discuss the schedule, things like do you shower in the morning or at night. Do you want me to wear a swimsuit when I shower with you or do you not care?"

He chuckled at that. "I... don't usually keep a schedule. Meals are at roughly the same times. Breakfast and dinner. There are snacks available mid-day. The only time I typically actually schedule things are events such as the Galas I have to go to. As far as what you wish to wear while you shower, I will leave that to you. You are going to be seeing me... nude. For that travesty, the least I can do is allow you to dress to your comfort level," he murmured.

"Mmm, then I too will be nude," she responded easily. "No, I will not be upset if you get an erection. It is natural. I would prefer to shower in the morning as it helps me wake up."

"That is typically the first thing I do as well. And for the same reason. I am not, nor have I ever been one of those... 'morning people'."

"How do you feel about me being on your lap? Does it make you uncomfortable or are you enjoying it? I should warn you that I tend to be physically affectionate, so if that is something that will bother or upset you I'd like to know now."