tagFetishTakeover Ch. 04

Takeover Ch. 04


You wake to a throbbing pain striving to split your head in two. You reach across the bed for Fia but she's not there.

You leap out of bed and hurry downstairs. There's a message waiting for you on the kitchen bench written on the Cantarella stationery.


Something's come up at the office and I had to leave early. Sorry if I scared you! I'll be back home as soon as I can. If I'm late, please don't wait up for me.


You toss the note aside. It reads like an excuse. She just doesn't want to see you. You probably disgust her.

Abandoned, you find some pills in the medicine cabinet and down more than you should. Then you make yourself breakfast. You end up baking far more than you need, but the cracking of eggs and the whisking and the precision of the addition of flour and sugar calms the worst of your despair.

While you're waiting for the oven to chime, though, you're again left with your thoughts and anger wells up in you. You remember Constantin. Is he you in thirty years? A nice guy who drinks too much striving to forget all the other men his wife is sleeping with, giving advice to the next generation of smiling cuckolds?

Where is Fia really? Something's come up at the office. It sounds like an excuse. Something's come up...

It's then that you notice Fia's briefcase beside the couch. She always takes it with her to the office.

Something's come up at the office...

...the office...

You collapse against the kitchen counter. The oven pings and you don't even notice it. Later the fire alarm goes off and you're thrown out of your bubble of stunned agony. You turn off the oven and shout at the apartment to open a window.

The glass sheers up and the smoke billows out. The madeleines are charred coals. You dump them in the rubbish and throw the tray into the sink, burning yourself in the process. You run your hand under the cold flowing water of the faucet and blink at the tears coming to your eyes.

You won't cry. Not over her.

Why did you have to fall in love with her? It just makes things harder. You realise then that you're more like Haru than Constantin: Haru, angry at Lanzo's ill-chosen words about Quinn; Haru, who looked across with such adoration in his eyes at Quinn. Quinn, who pulled you against her and kissed you.

The kiss. Her tongue had been so hot, so agile in your mouth, her grip around your waist so inexorable. You feel yourself getting hard at the memory and in disgust you grab the scourer and throw yourself into scrubbing the carbonisation off the madeleine tray.

You tidy up and spray the living room with air freshener, but the smell of smoke lingers along with the now-dull agony in your heart. You slump onto the couch. You know you should busy yourself doing something, but you don't have the heart.

The wallscreen chimes at you. You make no move for a long while, but the chiming continues. You leap up and answer it, thinking it's Fia.

It's Quinn's face that appears on the screen. Seeing you, she's startled. "Oh, I didn't think anyone was at home."

Behind her you see part of the frangipani tree in the front of your apartment. She's downstairs right now.

Quinn's dark eyes glimmer. "I came to apologise about that little misunderstanding last night. To the both of you. Is Fia home?"

You shake your head. She's at the office, dealing with some serious business. You squint with pain at having to repeat the lie.

"Oh," says Quinn, frowning. "That's disappointing. I brought a little gift along by way of saying sorry. But perhaps I can just leave it with the concierge..."

You tell Quinn you can't leave her on the doorstep after coming all this way and ask her if she'd like to come upstairs and have coffee.

Her face brightens, but then a shadow passes over it. "I don't want to impose. Are you sure Fia won't mind?"

You chuckle. The apartment is yours as well, you say.

Quinn smiles. "Thank you. Coffee would be most welcome. If it's anything like your baking, I have a real treat waiting for me."

You flick at the screen to open the security door and the wallscreen goes blank.

Your heart is racing. What the hell are you doing? Fia told you never to answer a call from Quinn and now you've invited her up to the apartment. Well, there's no harm in coffee, right? And it's the polite thing to do.

You tidy up the kitchen in a frenzy and start making the coffee. The elevator chimes just as you've started to froth the milk and you call out to Quinn to come in.

She steps into the living room, her dark eyes wide as she searches you out. She's wearing a blue and pink floral tea dress and is cradling a magnum-sized bottle in her arms. In casual clothes she looks completely different. The Managing Director of Cayetano-Kichijouten Banking Corporation is nowhere to be seen. She's just a woman, like any of Janisa's friends when they came to visit.

You duck your head out of the kitchen and say that you're fixing the coffee and ask her to make herself at home. Quinn smiles at you and nods. She seems nervous.

When you bring out the coffee she's sitting on the couch. The magnum is resting on the coffee table. It's gigantic.

"Sorry it's so big," she says, reading your eyes as she takes the cup and saucer from you. "I've heard you're not a very big drinker. I suppose Fia can help you, though."

You seat yourself on the sofa at right angles to Quinn. She sips the coffee and murmurs in appreciation.

"So we can add 'barista' to your list of talents," she says, replacing the cup. "Just a hint of bitterness and a perfect crema." She glances at the milk and sugar arrayed before her then looks back up at you, apologetic. "Could I trouble you for a little butter, perhaps? I'm afraid I always drink my coffee contaminated with it."

You apologise for not realising she might take her coffee French-style and hurry off to the kitchen. Quinn's eyes follow you as you return.

"I'm the one who should be apologising," she says as she stirs the melting butter into her coffee. "I'm afraid I let things get out of control last night. Haru and the boys..." She sips her coffee. "I did warn Haru to keep his usual hijinks under control, but when I saw you being stripped, well..." She places the coffee on the table. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't want to miss the chance of seeing what you look like naked so I went along with it."

You blush and nod, unsure of what you should say in response to such a comment. Your skin tingles under her gaze.

"Please," says Quinn, placing her hand on yours. "Enjoy your coffee before it goes cold."

You do as she says. The coffee is still a little too hot, but in the interests of being an accommodating host you sip at it. It's also bitterer than you like it. You must've tamped the ground coffee too much.

"A little bitter for you?" asks Quinn. She must have noticed your grimace. "You don't take it with cream and sugar usually?"

You shake your head. You always drink your coffee straight.

A delighted smile flashes onto Quinn's face. "A young man of excellent taste! Haru always spoils his with piles of cream and sugar like a child. He might as well be drinking hot chocolate."

Smiling, Quinn sits there watching you. You take sip after sip and find yourself quickly finishing your coffee. You replace your cup and scramble for something to say. The silence is making you nervous, although Quinn seems happy to just sit there with her hands in her lap, watching you.

You cough and mention that Constantin told you she and Fia met each other at school.

Quinn's eyes widen. "You heard that from Constantin?" A chuckle. "That old fox knows everything, doesn't he? I'm surprised Fia hadn't already told you about it."

You reply that Fia doesn't really talk about herself much.

"Is that so? Then I guess I'll have to be the one to enlighten you." She sits back. "Let's see. We went to the same Liceo Classico. It was a small one. Neither of us came from rich families." Quinn notices you fidgeting. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not one of those hypocrites that looks down on people born into the aristocracy. We all wish the same could've happened to us, after all. Besides, being an aristocrat is not synonymous with being rich, is it?"

You start at the comment but Quinn ignores you. "She was a tall, gangly girl. Your wife, I mean. And yet the boys really had a thing for her. You speak French, yes? I guess she had a je ne sais quoi. That's how she got her name, you know. 'The Barracuda'. You've heard it I suppose. Always swimming about, here and there, feasting off any little fishy that came her way. She liked the quiet, gentle boys the most."

Your eyes start to burn. You stare down at your hands in your lap. You notice you're squeezing them together tightly. You try and relax them but they feel wrong no matter how you place them so you return to wringing them. Quinn is waiting for your gaze when you finally lift it.

"Anxious?" she asks. "It must be difficult for a husband, having to always worry where his wife is. Haru's the same, despite just being my assistant."

You lower your face and start to cry. You try and stop yourself, but it's too late. Your eyes turn liquid, the tears falling straight down into your lap. A sob escapes your lips and then another one. Humiliated, you wipe at your eyes, hoping that Quinn has turned away. Then you feel an arm around your shoulders, a soft, warm breast pressed against your side. Quinn is beside you, hugging you. She draws your head down onto her chest and you let her. It feels so soft and warm. Your tears continue and after a while you try pull away, afraid that you're getting Quinn's dress wet.

"Shh," she murmurs. "Don't worry about this stupid dress. Just cry. It'll make you feel better." She kisses the top of your head. "I know you're new to all this. It's normal to get upset. I suppose Constantin must have told you some things that frightened you."

You nod. She squeezes you tighter to her. You grow quiet, the warmth and strength of Quinn's body calming you. The tears stop. The hand belonging to the arm around your shoulders pats your thigh like Loretta used to when you woke from nightmares.

You sit there for a long while. At last you raise your head. Your eyes are stinging with salt and you feel hot all over.

"My, my," murmurs Quinn. "Your face is all red." She cups your chin and darts forward, kissing first one eye and then the other. "There. Dry your tears." Her thumbs wipe off the moisture remaining on your cheeks.

She looks at you, her own eyes wet. "She doesn't deserve you, you know. You deserve better than to belong to some mean barracuda. You're too cute for her. Far too cute." Quinn leans forward, her hands keeping you from moving your head away, and kisses you on the lips. You struggle, but not hard. You know it'll make no difference. Besides, part of you wants to get back at Fia for hurting you, wants to be kissed, to be reassured.

Quinn takes her lips away. "That was a nicer kiss that time. A nice, gentle kiss for a nice gentle boy. Can I kiss you again?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. Her lips press against yours, the tip of her tongue slipping out. You open your mouth to accept it.

Quinn pulls you onto her lap while you kiss. Her arms surround you, her hands crisscrossing over your back. The kiss grows hungry. You feel yourself getting hotter and hotter and harder, too.

One of Quinn's hands slips into your lap and finds it. She cups your hardness and you gasp, her touch sending a spark along your spine. You feel so hot, almost feverish. What's the matter with you? What are you doing? Why are you letting her...?

You push at her hand and try and pull away from her kiss, but Quinn throws her arm around your neck again and keeps your lips against hers. In desperation you push at the couch with your feet and push at her chest with your hands and finally break free, but the violence of the movement sends you backwards onto the floor with a yelp. With one hand clutching the couch you pull yourself upright but Quinn is already on her feet and she grabs you under your armpits and lifts you to your feet.

You struggle but Quinn's hold on you is firm. You babble something about feeling feverish, that you must be sick, that she should go...

Quinn laughs. "Well," she says. "If you're sick you should go to bed and have a nice lie down. Where's the bedroom? I'll carry you there."

"No, no, no," you say.

Quinn sighs. "Typical boy. You don't know what you want, do you? The couch will have to do, then." She throws you onto the couch and with one hand pushing your chest down she wrestles with your belt with the other.

You panic. Why are you still so hard? All you want is for Quinn to go away, to stop this, and yet your body is acting differently.

Quinn chuckles at your fluster. "Oh don't worry, you're not sick. I just slipped you a little something in your coffee. You know, to help this whole takeover go smoother." She's managed to unbuckle your belt one handed and unzips you. Her hand slips straight inside and squeezes you between the legs. She murmurs, pleased. "Yes. That's what we want. Nice and hard. You know, sildenafil really is a godsend. Before, you had to spend ages getting the boy hard before you could fuck him properly. Streamlines the whole process nicely."

At Quinn's words you struggle harder. Quinn uses your movement against you, grasping the waist of your pants and underwear and pulling them down off your kicking legs. In the process, your foot connects with Quinn's shoulder and she falls back with a grunt, clutching your clothes. You stop, shocked. Quinn grins up at you as she rubs the place you struck her.

"You should conserve that energy, you know," she says, tossing aside your pants and underwear. "You'll need it. After we do it here on the couch I want to do it on Fia's bed."

You scramble backwards as Quinn crawls up onto the couch. You won't do it with her, you say. You'll tell Fia what she tried to do.

Quinn grabs hold of your feet and laughs. "You're not going to say anything to Fia. You know all about our deal, right? With Lunghezza Motori trying to take her over, she needs my bank's money, otherwise she'll lose everything. That's why she's so careful to stay on the right side of me. That's why she let all that happen last night, at my party."

You stop struggling. Quinn's words are no empty threat. Fia told you as much herself. Fia... she could lose everything!

Quinn lets go of your feet and sits up on her knees. She looks down at you. "I know that look. You realise I'm telling the truth, don't you? Fia hates that she has to rely on me. That's why she had to marry you. But it's too little too late. The Savoys aren't going to come riding in like the cavalry to save her and her company. The only ones who can save her now are me and you."

You? You stare at her.

Quinn smiles at you. The smile is disarmingly sweet. "You know what you have to do, right? I'm going to fuck you and then I'm going to go home. You won't say anything to Fia. It'll be our little secret. That way, Fia gets to keep her company and I get to keep you." her smile grows saturnine. "That's right. This won't be the only time. I'm going to come back whenever Fia's away so I can enjoy you And Fia will be none the wiser."

You shake your head, telling her that you won't, that you'll tell her everything, but you realise the emptiness of your words. If you don't do what Quinn says, Fia will lose everything. And yet, if you do...

Quinn slips her dress up off her shoulders and tosses it aside in one fluid movement. She's wearing black, lacy underwear underneath. "I hate wrestling out of a suit. That's why I came prepared." She stretches herself over you and draws her nails across your still-clothed chest. "Oh, and don't bother taking your shirt off. I want you keep it on. You look so vulnerable lying there half-nude." You turn your head away, but she grabs your chin and pulls you to face her. Her eyes are dark, the pupils impossibly large. Her breath envelopes you with its hot sweetness, mixing with her perfume, that heavy, narcotic perfume from last night.

She kisses you then, her tongue diving into you. You struggle but you stop when you realise it just seems to make Quinn more excited. She sucks your tongue into her mouth and bites down on it gently. She pulls her lips away and leaves you gasping, your tongue stinging from the scratching of her teeth.

"Well, at least Fia has taught you to kiss properly," says Quinn, sitting back up. Straddling your thighs, she reaches down and takes your hardness into her hand. She strokes it, smearing the stickiness already spilling from the head along the shaft. "What else has she taught you? How she likes to be licked between the legs? I bet she loves it when you do that. And how about fucking? I bet she likes to be on top. Do you like it when she slides herself down onto you?"

You shake your head, your face burning in shame, muttering that you don't know anything about that.

Quinn stops stroking you. "No. Don't tell me!" Her voice falls to a whisper. "Fia... she's never fucked you, has she? You're still a virgin?" A gasp escapes Quinn's lips. Her voice remains low, husky with rising excitement. "So I'm going to be your first and Fia won't ever know."

With her free hand she reaches down and pulls aside her underwear. Her sex is red and swollen, glistening with fluid. "Your first. And every time she fucks you, she'll be fucking what I've already had." Quinn positions your hardness and leans forward. "Oh, I had no idea Fia had so lost her touch. When we were younger, there was no way the Barracuda would have left a virgin unspoiled!"

You close your eyes as you feel her place the tip of your penis against her. She's hot, and slimy. Quinn giggles and kisses you like a lover would. "You know what the funniest thing is?" she murmurs against your lips. "Fia will guess my little game. She'll know that the meeting I called was all a sham when Haru apologises to her for sending her the wrong information. Then she'll come home here and smell me everywhere: on this couch, on your clothes, in your bed, on you. And she won't say anything, because she'll understand the unspoken deal, the price of my support. And you won't say anything to her either. I'll always be there, between the two of you..."

She rubs you against her slit and starts to pant. You lie as still as possible, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to block out the heavy, excited sounds Quinn is making.

Fia... you're betraying her. And yet you're only doing this for her, letting this happen because you love her.

You love her.

Quinn stops kissing you. Her lips pull away from yours. Her weight comes off you.

Your eyes flash open. Quinn's head is turned. You see someone behind her, standing at the doorway to the kitchen.

It's Fia.

"The fire escape," says Fia, her voice emotionless. "There's a door in the kitchen. Useful for coming and going without letting anyone know."

"Fia," says Quinn.

"Get off my husband."

Quinn swings herself off you and slips off the couch, grinning. Free at last, you scramble up into a sitting position, your hands covering your crotch, ashamed of your still angry erection.

"How did you guess?" Quinn asks, bending over to retrieve her dress.

"Just a hunch," says Fia.

"You're lying," says Quinn. "He told you, didn't he? Haru."

Fia's eyes barely move, but it's enough for Quinn to know that she has guessed right. Her face contorts into a frightening grimace of hatred. "That backstabbing little fag! I'll toss him back on the street!"

Fia shrugs. "He's already gone, Quinn."

"Well, it doesn't matter," says Quinn, her smile returning to its usual sweetness with horrifying swiftness. "No doubt you heard everything I told hubby. You understand where we stand, don't you? Regarding the deal, I mean. It still stands."

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