The Alternative Ch. 1

Amanda flipped the envelope over again, even though she knew it was hopeless. There was no return address, no postmark, no nothing that could tell her anything about who had sent it. Someone had just slipped it in to her mailbox the previous day. Her fingers clenched the note as she re-read it for the thousandth time; no point, she knew it by heart.

"I know about Keith Henderson. I know about Zane Smith. I know everything that you did with them. I know everything you got out of it."

Short sentences, no major information revealed, but to Amanda, it was her nightmare coming true. In 27 years, Amanda had done very little that she wasn't proud of. In school she'd been a good student, top of her class, popular. College hadn't been any different, no drugs, no late night parties or raves, no boyfriends talking her in to things that she would regret later on. No, Amanda had been a good girl…but sometimes even the good girls falter. Sometimes the one that no one would ever think could do such a thing goes out and does it…and sometimes someone else finds out.

Keith Henderson. Zane Smith. Two names that Amanda never wanted to hear again. How had anyone found out? And, more importantly, now that someone had found out, what did they want with Amanda?

She put the letter on her desk and turned off the lamp. It was late, and she had work in the morning. It was time for sleep.

**

At work, Amanda felt paranoid. It was not an emotion she was used to feeling. Everywhere she looked, she saw people. People she knew, people she didn't know…any of them could be the person behind the letter. When her secretary knocked on Amanda's door, she practically peed her pants.

"I'm sorry, Miss Mitchell," said Susan, the secretary, "Didn't mean to scare you." Susan smiled at Amanda.

"It's okay, Sue," Amanda reassured her. "I'm just jumpy."

"Mr. Smith wants you to have these on his desk by Friday morning." Susan dropped a pile of files in front of Amanda.

Amanda shuddered. Zane Smith, her boss. She could see the note in her mind, feel it as though it were in her hands again. Someone knew.

"…And filed." Susan finished.

"I'm sorry?" Said Amanda.

"Geeze, Miss Mitchell, maybe you should take a lunch break."

Amanda shot her secretary a look that let Susan know what she thought of that comment.

"Everyone deserves a break now and then, Miss Mitchell."

Susan turned and left the office, leaving Amanda alone with the files.

"Maybe I will take a break," she said to herself, pushing her chair back from the desk and getting up. A nice, long, lunch break. Maybe a salad would help her regain her cool.

As she was leaving the office, the phone rang. She heard Susan pick it up, the seconds later Susan buzzed in.

"Phone for you, Miss Mitchell. She said it's urgent."

Amanda picked up the phone.

A quiet, feminine voice was on the other end. It was dark, and Amanda's brain flashed red as it said "Hello Amanda. I hope you got my note. I was thinking we could meet for lunch."

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Amanda whispered in to the receiver. She locked the office door, afraid Susan might come in and see her in her upset state.

"Go across the street to Tino's Italian restaurant. Get a table for two, a booth, away from the window. Wait. I will be there in five minutes. Be there or I will go public."

Amanda heard the click as the woman on the other end of the phone hung up. She took a deep breath. Her heart felt like it was beating a hundred times faster than normal. She grabbed her coat off the rack and left the office.

Across the street, she got the table as instructed. Amanda paid no attention to the menu in her hand; she was busy scanning the room. She didn't know what to expect from the woman, but in an unreasonable way thought that she could spot her when she came in. However, the woman was already there. She slipped in to the booth across from Amanda before Amanda had even realized it. Amanda had been too busy scanning the doorway.

"Hello Miss Mitchell," the woman said, almost insolently. "I'm so glad you could make it."

Amanda looked at the woman. The woman had long black hair, pulled in to a French braid that fell far past her shoulders. Her eyes were almond shaped, dark brown, and framed by long dark lashes. She had no wrinkles, but had an ageless quality that could put her anywhere between 25 and 45. Her skin was smooth and darkish, Amanda thought she might be Native American or perhaps have a black relative some generations back. Her lips were full and painted a blood red, and they curled now into a smile, showing off a row of pearly white teeth.

Amanda swallowed hard. If they were meeting in different circumstances, Amanda would be attracted to this woman. While she had never been with another girl, Amanda had felt that it would be an exciting experience, and sometimes wished that she'd had the chance to have a threesome in one of her past relationships.

"My name is Caitlin Henderson," the dark woman said. "We met once, in passing, while I was with my husband, Keith."

Amanda felt as though all the blood had drained from her face. She dropped the menu and scrambled to pick it up again.

"I can see that you appreciate who I am," said Caitlin. "That is good. I want you to know that if you cooperate with me fully, then no one else needs to know what I know."

"What exactly do you know, Mrs. Henderson?" asked Amanda. She winced at hearing the quiver in her voice. Why was she being such a coward? This woman might not know anything! Who was Amanda trying to fool, she knew that Caitlin probably knew everything, probably had proof…and was probably out for blood, as well.

"In 1998 my husband and Zane Smith worked together. Their firm was doing poorly at the time, experiencing some problems about embezzling money from the clients and the two of them were being investigated. You were Mr. Smith's assistant, were you not? Anyways, Smith placed evidence in the hands of the authorities incriminating my husband. He was sentenced to prison, and he and I have had a divorce since he has been gone. I believe that Smith knew the investigation would go on until one of them was incriminated, and with your help, made sure it wouldn't be Smith himself. What I know about you, Miss Mitchell, is that you not only dug up that evidence from Smith's files, you altered it to look like it had belonged to Keith, then destroyed the evidence against Mr. Smith and testified against my husband. My husband was convicted and sentenced, but they never found the money. I did. I know that you have it."

Amanda sat speechless. "You can't prove that," she said.

"Yes I can. When I divorced Keith and sorted through our things, I found an old diary that he had kept during the whole ordeal. He writes about your affair with Zane Smith. He wrote it so that if anything happened to him, everyone and everything else involved would go down as well. He has copies of receipts, deposit slips, and everything I need to send you to prison for five-to-ten."

Caitlin stopped and leaned back against the seat. She looked quite like the cat that got the cream.

Amanda leaned back as well, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"So where does this put us?" Amanda asked, gathering enough courage to look Caitlin straight in the eyes.

"I want you," said Caitlin. "I have always wanted you. Ever since I met you at the company's New Years party, I've thought about how to get you. If you want me to keep quiet about this, then you will come to this address tonight. Follow the directions exactly as written, or I will go back on this. You have until then to decide what you want to do."

The older woman stood up and walked out of the restaurant. Amanda looked at the card Caitlin had left. On the front an address was printed in black ink. On the back, in small, neat handwriting it said:

"Wear a short skirted dress. Pumps. Nothing else. Arrive at nine."

Amanda put her head in her hands. She felt like the bottom of her world had fallen out.

**

In her mind Amanda had pictured the house to be some sort of gothic mansion, a gate around the large grounds with a circular driveway and bars on all three stories of windows. In reality, the house that she was approaching looked quite lovely. A modest two story home with a large porch, brightly painted, with a double garage. There were flowers in the front yard and a tall fence around the back. Amanda parked in the driveway and walked to the door.

She felt quite ridiculous in the dress with no panties on, but she was afraid that Caitlin would check, and use any excuse to turn her in. This was probably just for humiliation, right? What other reason would the woman have for asking her not to wear panties or a bra. Amanda stood at the door for three whole minutes, it felt like thirty, taking deep breaths before she gathered enough gumption to ring the bell.

The door opened almost immediately, Caitlin stood in the doorway. She was tall, probably about five foot ten inches, even in flat-soled shoes. She wore a casual pants suit, the wine red color going quite well with her dark features.

"Won't you come in," she said, smirking at the younger girl on her porch. Amanda looked great, thought Caitlin. Just like how she'd looked when her obsession began, nearly five years ago. Amanda was a petite blonde, wispy white blonde hair cut in to a stylish pageboy. Her supple body was curvy, good-sized chest, probably about a C cup, slim waist, and wider hips, giving her a classic hourglass figure that any girl would have coveted in the 50's. Nowadays in the 21^st century people seemed to think that women shouldn't have any figure at all. The women Caitlin saw on television had about as much shape as twigs. Amanda was more the type that Caitlin lusted over. Amanda's sapphire blue eyes, pert nose, and luscious lips didn't need any cosmetic enhancement.

Amanda walked past Caitlin in to a sitting room done in creams. The soft carpet made it difficult to walk in her high heels but she didn't know if it would be appropriate for her to take them off. Caitlin seemed to read her puzzled mind.

"Take of your shoes, Amanda," she said, walking over towards the couch. She took a seat, resting her arms on the back of the couch and crossing her legs.

Amanda took the shoes off and set them next to the door.

"Won't you have a seat, dear?"

Amanda made as if to sit in one of the cream colored chairs.

"I was thinking that you could sit on the ground, Amanda," Caitlin said, smiling.

Amanda shot her a look of fire before setting herself on the ground. It was awkward, finding a comfortable position that didn't compromise the fact that there were no panties under her dress. She could feel the carpet on her naked legs, and was embarrassed to feel it through the skirt of her dress pushing against her pussy lips. The friction made her feel more than aware of her near nakedness in front of this other woman.

"So," Caitlin began, "You have a choice to make, Amanda -- "

"Look," Amanda interrupted. She was scared to death, but she wanted to get this over with. If she was going to be taken to prison, better today than tomorrow, right? None of the horrible anticipation she'd been feeling all day. "You got me, ma'am. You have me, now what is your silence going to cost me? I don't have much money, but what I do have, I am willing to give you. I'll do anything you ask, just please, tell me now and let it be over and done with."

Caitlin smiled.

"That does make it easier, doesn't it?" she smirked. "I want all of you. I want you to quit your job, get rid of your apartment, and move in with me…as, shall we say…my maid. As my maid you will obey everything I say, my word will be law. You will clean for me, shop for me, cook for me, serve me, and…well…service me."

Caitlin felt like a fool, on the exterior she remained a calm, collected individual blackmailing a girl into what was practically slavery, but when she said it out loud she knew how it sounded.

"Service you how?" said Amanda. Caitlin could see the genuine puzzlement on her face.

"Sexually. Absolutely anything I say, you will do, or else you will go to prison."

"I hardly think that this is fair," said Amanda. She got up from her place on the couch. "Prison would be temporary, how will this be better than that?"

"Well," said Caitlin, "We could work something out. Lets say, oh, I don't know…two years. Two years in my service, and then you will be freed, I will give you the hard copies of all the documents and you can go on with your life."

Amanda looked at the floor, where she'd been sitting a moment before.

"I'm not a lesbian," Amanda said quietly. "I've never been with a woman, never even imagined it." Her heart was fluttering. That was not quite true. It had been a fantasy her whole life to be with a woman, but not something she'd seriously considered. But in this situation, where there was almost no choice involved…she could feel herself becoming a little bit moist at the idea.

"I don't care if you're a lesbian or not," Caitlin said sharply. "Tell me right now or I'll go to the police tonight."

"Alright. I'll do it." Amanda could hardly believe she heard herself say it. Caitlin, too, was surprised. She had worked this plan out in her head for months, but now it was actually clicking in to place.

"Then kneel here, in front of the couch."

Amanda walked over to the couch and knelt down on her knees, standing on them, looking up at Caitlin nervously.

"Take off your dress."

The dress slipped off of Amanda's body, she dropped it to the side. Now nude, she could feel all parts of her body start to blush with embarrassment. She had never been naked in front of a woman before. Her hand moved to cover her pubic mound.

"Hands behind your head, dear," said Caitlin, less sharply than before now that she had the girl naked at her feet.

Caitlin let her eyes roam over Amanda's body. It was more glorious than she could have imagined. The skin was flawless, pale. Goosebumps were beginning to arise as the air in the room reached Amanda's skin. The girls nipples were becoming erect, wrinkling the pink skin of the small areoles into small eraser sized buds. With her arms up behind her head the breasts were thrust forward, upward, the nipples almost offering themselves to Caitlin's hands.

But Caitlin was waiting. She didn't want to wear her prize out too soon, no. She already had a plan for tonight.

"Very nice," Caitlin murmured. "Very nice indeed."

Amanda's pussy began to throb. This was arousing her a lot, the humiliation of being naked and exposed in front of this near stranger. She wanted more than anything for Caitlin to reach out and touch her breast. Amanda thrust her chest out more, trying to make it look enticing, but Caitlin didn't move from her place.

"Now," said Caitlin, "I want you to spread your legs, knees wide apart, still kneeling. No, more, until you're almost falling over backwards."

Amanda moved awkwardly to get in to this position.

"Good girl. Now, take your right hand and put it between your legs. Show me your treasures, Amanda."

Her hand dropped from behind her head and cautiously made its way to the furrow between her legs. Amanda took the index finger and spread her pussy lips open, letting her audience have a full view of her 'treasures.'

"Take your middle finger and slide it inside your cunt for me," Caitlin purred, adjusting herself on the couch ever so slightly. Her own panties were becoming moist, and she fought the urge to finger herself while she watched Amanda play. "Yes, now, finger still sliding in and out, take your index finger and start to tease your clit. Keep your pussy lips wide open for me, though, don't let them hide you."

Amanda's face felt like she was on fire, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. She stroked the inside of her pussy with her middle finger, lightly scraping the side with her nail and the soft pad of her index finger started to stroke her clit. It didn't need much urging to pop out of its hood and help out with Amanda's frustration.

"Touch your breasts," Caitlin said curtly. Her breath was coming in shorter gulps as she watched the gorgeous body in front of her shaking with need.

Amanda's breath was coming shorter too; Caitlin could tell that she wanted to cum.

"Now, I want you to cum for me, Amanda. Fuck yourself with that finger and orgasm for me, right here, on my floor." Amanda's fingers started to go faster. Her left hands fingers twisted around her left nipple, pulling it and twisting it back around again. Her right hand worked more rapidly as well, her middle finger thrust all the way inside and her index finger twisted around, rubbing her clit with the fingernail. "Cum for me, baby. You're mine now; you're going to do what I say. When I want you to cum, you'll cum. If I want to cum, you'll lick me and fuck me until I cum. Now orgasm, baby, cum for me."

Amanda whimpered and moaned, throwing her head back as her orgasm began. She could feel the flesh around her middle finger grip on to it, almost trying to pull it further inside. Her index finger slowed, but did not stop, caressing the swollen clit while Amanda's legs shook with passion. She hadn't had an orgasm this good since her last boyfriend had left her.

Once the spasms had stopped, she knelt, panting, at Caitlin's feet. Her head hung down, her arms lay limply at her sides. She looked up at the woman on the couch.

"Very good, Amanda," smiled Caitlin. "I think that this will work out just fine."

To Be Continued…