The Happiest Day of Her Life Ch. 08

Chloe said to Marie, "Patrolwoman Militello is a sub. Who've guessed?"

"What are you two nymphos doing?" asked Marie. "This woman is working your case!"

"No, she isn't," replied Chloe with a wrinkled nose. "The officers on my case are detectives Alvarez and Cho. Patrolwoman Militello will report my complaint at the end of her shift and it'll get to the detectives probably some time tomorrow. Patrolwoman Militello's partner is Patrolman Guerrera. Isn't that ironic?"

"I don't get it," said Marie.

"Nevermind," said Chloe. "Why are you calling us 'nymphos'? She hit on us."

"How can she hit on you if she's a sub?"

"Oops," said Chloe. "You really shouldn't stereotype. Some subs are strong, confident, people capable of asking for what they want. They just happen to prefer letting someone else make the decisions when things get sexual. Oh. Are you leaving now?"

"Yes, that's what I came in here to tell you," said Marie.

"Militello," said Chloe in a stern voice. "You may rub your clit while we say goodbye to Miss Marie, but you must not cum."

"Yes, Miss Chloe," said Patrolwoman Militello. "Thank you, Miss Chloe. Thank you, Mistress Jennifer." Patrolwoman Militello lowered her right hand and began rubbing her clit. She moaned softly.

Chloe rolled her wheelchair to Marie while Jenn stood up and walked over. Chloe extended her arms towards Marie and Marie bent down for the hug. They held each other tightly.

"Oh, God," said Chloe. "I'm going to miss you so much. Call Jenn's cell as soon as you get to Tarabella to let us know you're safe. If that's too much to handle, just send us a text."

"Ok," said Marie. "I will. I promise." They broke the hug and Jenn stepped up to hug her sister.

"'Mistress Jennifer'?" asked Marie.

"Sub's got to call me something," said Jenn. They hugged and Jenn kissed her older sister on the cheek. There were tears shed but all three women knew this needed to happen. Jenn and Chloe said their goodbyes and Marie walked out the door to start her new life.

Frank joined Marie as she left Chloe's room. They rode the elevator down together and he followed her to her car. She drove them to Lindenhurst. Once home, Marie fixed a light supper while Frank began to inflate a raft. They ate together. Marie took a shower and changed into traveling clothes. They loaded Marie's luggage into the inflated raft and carried it to Lindenhurst Beach. The raft was set in the water and Marie climbed in. She paddled it out a bit before Frank climbed in and they paddled to his waiting plane. Frank climbed aboard the floating bird first. and pulled in all the luggage. He secured it for flight before helping Marie climb in. He deflated the raft and folded the wet plastic before stowing it in a corner.

Marie had flown at night before but never while sitting next to the pilot. It was terrifying but also exhilarating. Frank had asked Marie to stay awake with him. The crushing sadness in her heart threatened, at any particular moment, to leave her a sobbing mess. Nevertheless, she stayed awake and spoke to Frank as he flew through the night skies.

Talking to an actively engaged pilot was a tricky thing. Marie had to be ready to stop talking at a moment's notice if Frank needed to concentrate on something. She was a bit offended the first time he shut her up, she had to admit. Eventually, she understood that staying in the air was much more important than focusing all of his attention on her.

As they flew over Smith Point, which was roughly halfway on their journey, Marie realized how good it was that she didn't drive this distance by herself at night. What would have been an hour and a half in solitary darkness, was a thirty-two minute pleasant adventure. It was actually amazing to Marie when Frank started to bring the plane lower. She couldn't believe they were already there.

Tarabella had several lights on but it was obvious that most of the staff had already retired for the night. This was not a McMansion. This was the school from the X-Men movies Krazy Glued to the biggest beach house she'd ever seen in her life. Tarabella had two faces. There was the side that faced Midocean Drive. It was regal looking. It was built to look intimidating and it succeeded beautifully. There was also the side that faced the water. It was comfortable looking. That side of Tarabella would not look out of place on a California beach. Tarabella would have taken up six blocks in Lindenhurst. That is, the house would have. The attached property was even larger. Marie couldn't make everything out at night, but Frank circled the property for her a few times anyway.

There was a slight jostle as Frank's plane hit the water. He taxied the plane up to Tarabella's private pier. Frank helped Marie unload her luggage. It was a somewhat surreal transition for her. These few bags were all she needed in this colossal house that was where she would be living for the foreseeable future. Intellectually, she'd owned Tarabella for years. At that moment, however, Marie took possession of the behemoth residence. At her request, Frank promised Marie that he would fly her over the property again in the daylight before he flew back to Lindenhurst.

Jenn had been sleeping when Marie called, but both she and Chloe were happy to hear Marie had landed safely. Patrolwoman Militello, they assured her, left the room fifteen minutes after Marie had. Goodnights were exchanged and Marie hung up.

Since he knew the estate better, Frank led Marie to the southeast door of her home. This was a very comfortable entrance. It did not have the austerity of Tarabella's northern face. The southeast entrance had white French doors that opened up in to a large sitting room. This room was all beach house. Soft pastels met tan walls comfortably. Frank took off his shoes before entering and Marie followed suit. She soon understood why. The carpet was white and plush. As she entered her home, she delighted in the feel of the rich carpet on her bare feet.

Exhaustion trumped the desire for a full tour and Frank led the gorgeous raven haired owner of the estate to the Master Bedroom. Marie felt the transition of the house as she went from large, comfy, rooms to large, elegant, rooms. The staircase they ascended was enormous. Marie was way too tired to process everything she saw. She was thankful Frank was taking a room just down the hall from hers. She was already lost. She'd never find her way back without help.

The Master Bedroom contained a gigantic four poster bed with a canopy. There was an attached bathroom. There was a humungous flat screen television. There was a walk-in closet. There were two elegant yet comfortable looking chairs. There was an attached gym.

Marie entered the en-suite bathroom carrying her bag of toiletries. It had a tub large enough for a football player to lay down in. There was a hot tub. The sink was almost a work of art. There was a bidet. Muted blues ruled in this room. Marie knew she could be very comfortable in this room. She unpacked her toiletries before emptying her bladder.

Marie found the hamper next to the other door of the bathroom. She removed her clothes and placed them in the hamper. Naked, she returned to the bedroom and peeled the covers to the bed. The bed was a wonderful balance of soft and firm. Marie fell asleep quickly.

Marie awoke to a woman in a maid's uniform opening up the curtains. Marie had not unpacked her alarm clock, or much of anything for that matter. She had no idea what time it was. The windows of the Master Bedroom faced the south; the beach side of the estate. The bright light streaming in from the windows was somewhat irritating to the recently unemployed billionairess.

"What time is it?" Marie asked in a voice that was louder than she expected it to be in such a large room.

"OH!" shouted the maid. "I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Melar. I didn't realize you would be here this morning. I was just getting ready to dust the room for you."

"What time is it?" Marie repeated in a voice that was softer than the first time she asked.

"It's eight o'clock, Ma'am. Would you care for some breakfast?" the maid asked.

"It's eight o'clock already? Wow," said Marie. "That's the longest I've slept in a while. Wait. Did you just call me 'Ma'am'?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said the maid. "I'm afraid that's protocol. When you address the Lady of the Manor, you first address her by her title and then every other time you say 'Ma'am'."

"My title?" asked Marie.

"Yes, Ma'am. In this case, Ms. Melar. Would you prefer I called you something else?"

"My name is Marie," she said.

The maid smiled and said, "That's a lovely name and well suited to you, Ma'am, but I cannot call you that. It's too familiar. I could call you Ms. Marie, if that's alright with you."

"As long as it was just that," said Marie, "and not followed by 'Ma'am'."

"Yes, Ms. Marie," said the maid. "I could do that."

"Good," said Marie. "And what should I call you?"

"I'm Jayne, Ms. Marie," she said cheerfully. "I'm your head maid."

Marie took stock of Jayne. She was younger than Marie expected a head maid to be. Jayne was in her early to mid twenties. This girl, in Marie's opinion, should be in college rather than dusting in a somewhat provocative maid's uniform. The uniform looked very much like the sexy maid costumes one would see at a Halloween party where sex was expected. The dress was a tight black low cut dress with a very short skirt and a white apron. Jayne looked almost as if it were painted on her. Jayne's curly dark brown hair was pinned up and tucked behind a white cloth ruffle. A long curl on either side of her face hung down and framed her round face gorgeously. Jayne had very long legs that were covered in black stockings and held up by a just visible garter belt. As tall as Jayne was, she was wearing black shoes with five inch heels. Marie decided that Frank's father, the late Mr. Melar, must have been a misogynist pig. Jayne did not have a Long Island accent. She did not sound like she was from New York, but Marie could not place her accent.

"It's very nice to meet you, Jayne," said Marie. "Did you say something about breakfast?"

"Oh, yes, of course, Ms. Marie," said Jayne. "I'll be right back with a tray."

"Don't be silly," said Marie. "I'll go down to the kitchen with you."

Marie hopped out of bed and Jayne sucked in her breath. Marie had forgotten, momentarily, that she was naked. She did not rush to cover herself. Marie walked calmly to her luggage and opened the bag that had her robe. She slipped it on and noticed, as she tied her belt, that Jayne never looked away. Marie followed as Jayne led the way to the dining room. Jayne was going to leave Marie there and bring back food, but Marie followed her into the kitchen.

The kitchen staff, all female, were wearing ridiculous outfits. They all had chef hats on and were wearing low cut white dresses with skirts that ended about mid-thigh and white stockings held up by garters. Marie gasped when she noticed the kitchen staff were all wearing high heels.

"Ladies," Jayne said loudly after clapping her hands sharply three times, "the new Lady of the Manor is here. Please present yourselves for inspection."

Marie did not want to inspect the staff but was too tired to put a stop to it. The click-clacking of heels was heard as the kitchen staff lined up. Marie quickly noticed that every member of the staff she'd met so far was very well endowed. This probably explained why she always got five stars on the evaluations from her renters. Marie walked down the line and nodded her head as Jayne introduced each woman. There were five of them and Marie knew she'd never remember all of their names.

After the inspection, Marie placed her breakfast order and the staff hastened to fill it. Marie saw nowhere to sit in the kitchen and returned to the dining room. Jayne followed her boss and pulled out a chair for her at the head of the table. Marie smiled as she took her seat and watched as Jayne walked to the nearest wall and stood at attention. Jayne's impressive attribute were also standing at attention.

"Jayne," said Marie. "Aren't you going to sit down here?"

"No, of course not, Ms. Marie. It's not my place."

"It is today," said Marie. "I'd like to talk to you."

Jayne walked towards a chair that was on the other side of the long table from Marie. Marie stopped Jayne and directed the head maid to take the seat next to the one she was in. Jayne smiled nervously as she sat down next to her boss.

"Jayne," Marie asked, "do you like your uniform?"

"Yes, of course, Ms. Marie," said the lovely brunette.

Marie tilted her head slightly and said, "It's ok if you don't. That's why I'm asking. I want you to be honest with me, Jayne. That's the biggest rule in my house. You need to be completely honest."

"If that's the case, Ms. Marie, then no. I do not like my uniform. It's impossible to perform my duties without giving people a show. It's fine when there are no guests here, since all the women on staff wear pretty much the same thing. When there are men in the manor, though, it's very awkward." Jayne was certain she'd be punished for saying that, but the Lady of the Manor asked for complete honesty.

"Ok," said Marie evenly. "I have some errands to run today. Frank, uh, my brother-in-law, Mr. Melar, will be taking me for a quick flight over the property and then James will be taking me out on my errands. I'd like you to accompany me when James drives me. I want you to wear something comfortable. I don't care if it's jeans. We'll be going to a few places, so please wear sensible shoes."

Jayne smiled as she heard that she could shed her tight uniform for the day. She thanked Marie. Jayne stood up and excused herself when a tinkling bell could be heard.

About five minutes after Jayne left, Frank entered the dining room. He was dressed as he had been the night before and Marie remembered he hadn't brought any luggage.

"Jayne said you were eating down here this morning," said Frank. "Why didn't you have a tray sent up?"

"I'm not used to having servants," said Marie. "I lost my head. Did you want anything to eat?"

"I gave my order to Jayne already."

"Why didn't I see her?" asked Marie. "Why didn't she come in with you?"

"I don't know," said Frank. "I lost track of her after she used her staircase."

"'Her staircase'?" asked Marie.

"Yeah," said Frank. "The servants can't use our staircases unless they're with one of us."

Jayne soon returned carrying a tray with the two breakfasts. Marie had tea, toast with jelly and a small bowl of mixed fruit. Frank had eggs, toast, coffee, juice, scrapple, ham, sausage, pancakes with syrup and a bowl of cereal.

After breakfast, Marie and Frank went upstair to their separate bathrooms to get showered and dressed. They met back at the sitting room (Jayne showed Marie the way). Frank took Marie for her short flight, circling the property. She saw the tennis courts, the stables, the huge pool and the volleyball court. Marie wondered why a house on the beach needed a pool.

It was soon time to say goodbye to Frank. He would return to Lindenhurst and continue his daily visits with Chloe and Jenn. Marie hugged Frank. He held her a little longer than she was comfortable with and she slapped him. She began to cry. Frank was about to say something and then he remembered what Chloe and Jenn had said about Marie's crying. It was something she needed to do. He didn't try to stop her. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and let her weep. Marie was comforted by the fact that Frank gave her the freedom to cry without judgment. She sobbed out all of her emotions until they emptied out of her. She kissed Frank on the cheek and said goodbye.

It was around ten when Marie met Jayne at the northern entrance of Tarabella. She found it by herself. Jayne was dressed in a peasant top and jeans. Her hair was down and she was wearing sneakers. Marie almost didn't recognize her. James brought the black limousine to the door and opened the rear door of the car for Marie. After Marie climbed in, James was about to close the door.

"Jayne, aren't you getting in?" asked Marie.

"Of course, Ms. Marie. I am going to ride up front with James."

"Why don't you ride back here with me?" asked Marie. "I'd like to talk to you."

"Yes, of course, Ms. Marie," said Jayne. "Whatever you wish. Thank you."

On the ride west on Montauk Highway, it became obvious that Jayne was uncomfortable.

"Are you alright, Jayne?"

"Oh, yes, of course, Ms. Marie. It is just that I am not used to riding in the back. Staff members who accompany the Lady of the Manor generally ride up front with James."

"Well, Tarabella is under new management and there are going to be new rules," said Marie. "I have an appointment in Huntington, but after that is done, you and I are going to go shopping. We're going to get new uniforms for the staff."

"Oh, thank you, Ms. Marie."

"That's just to start things. I'm going to have a long talk with the staff and we're going to discuss how things are," Marie said.

Marie was trying to keep a handle on her emotions. The crying she did earlier certainly helped, but she still felt miserable. She was sad and guilty about Trent. She was guilty about her feelings towards Frank. She was angry about the rampant misogyny and class system evident in her house. She wasn't going to cry, but she knew she needed to change things. New uniforms and a talk with the staff would help how she felt about her house. The other things would have to be discussed at her appointment with Kevin.

It was just before eleven thirty when James pulled up at Kevin's office building. Marie told James and Jayne to meet her back there in an hour. The limousine departed, with Jayne sitting up front, and Marie wondered how often people took a limo to see their shrink.

It was a productive session. Kevin noticed Marie laid on the couch again. She cried several times but it was never histrionic. It also never reached the level of being cathartic, he noticed. They discussed many of the bombshells Marie had dropped in her last session. Kevin told Marie that she needed to face her demons. She was pleased that Kevin was not judgmental about her abortion. He did discuss the reasons for her choice and then seemed to be content with the idea that Marie could govern her own body.

The first encounter with Holly and Jenn was discussed. Kevin asked Marie to consider that, perhaps, the ladies did not rape her. They certainly progressed faster than Marie would have chosen. Marie was uncomfortable as they talked about this. It later occurred to her that the reason for her discomfort was that the interlude with her sister and her then lawyer redefined her sexuality. Marie had never entertained the idea of being anything other than heterosexual before that day in Holly's office. It shattered her picture of herself in much the same way her rape by six men had shattered her self image.

Marie was not in control when she had sex with Holly and Jenn. It wasn't a stupor, as she once thought. Marie had chosen to explore the bodies of those two gorgeous women. She had attempted to forge a new identity for herself. She wanted to remove herself from the guilt and the pain of her wedding night. She wanted to stop being a victim. She performed lesbian acts and committed incest in an attempt to take some measure of control. She made mistakes, but she learned from those mistakes. She learned how to properly express her love for her sister. She no longer desired Jenn sexually. She no longer desired Chloe sexually, now that her particular forbidden fruit had also been tasted.

Marie was able to admit that she was bi-sexual. She could also admit that she preferred to be the dominant sexual partner. She did not need to be a dominatrix, she knew. She just needed to have some control. She did not like to be at the whim of others. She wanted - she needed - to be the decision maker. Marie was not the empty void she once imagined herself to be. She was not the cause of Trent's death. She understood that now. She still felt guilt. She would probably always feel guilt. She had survived. There had been no way to save Trent. He was dead long before Marlon stabbed him. Trent was dead when Marlon first grabbed Marie's tits. That was the catalyst. Trent died. Marie could not save him but she could save herself. She survived and she was bitterly alone.