The Look Pt. 04

Everyone is of legal age, etc, etc

Part 4 of 4.

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Shortly before one o'clock I found myself waiting at the front door, repeatedly peeking through the window, hoping against hope for some sign of Anne. I'm like a kid waiting for their friends to show up at their birthday party.

Four hours have passed since I was banished from paradise, and the memories of last night are already beginning to fade.

I don't want to lose those memories.

My mind is cacophony of doubt and scattered thoughts.

I'm suddenly worried that lunch won't be good enough.

I cannot fail Anne again.

Do I have time to-

Then the clock in the Living Room begins to chime.

One o'clock.

Anne is punctual. The sound of heavy boot steps crunching in the snow outside the door crystallizes the moment, and whatever happens now, will happen.

I hurriedly opened the door, a cold gust of wind carrying frigid a few flakes into the foyer. Involuntarily, I shivered, goose bumps racing across my body as I held the door open for Anne who was bundled warmly against the cold, only her face showing.

She was alone. Liam is not with her. As I let her in, I look to the snow covered expanse beyond to see someone shoveling her driveway.

"Liam will join us when he is finished." Anne said by way of explanation as she set her large purse down to take off heavy jacket, passing it to me. I'm pleased to see she is still wearing the same disconcerting dress she wore at breakfast. She quickly sheds her heavy snow boots and dons a pair of heels to match her outfit.

She's once more the perfect television housewife circa 1950.

"Lunch is ready." I said with a slight bow.

"Good." Anne replied, briskly rubbing her hands. "I'm starved."

A pang of jealousy swept through me. I can't help but think that her appetite is from fucking Liam non-stop from the moment I was tossed into the cold.

I showed Anne to the dining room, not knowing what to say, what I could say.

Everything is as ready as it will ever be. I really went all out, with the candles, the family heirloom fine china to the expensive wedding gift silverware that had never been used.

I set the table for three, but it would appear that it will only be the two of us.

Anne's attention is drawn to the side table where I have carefully arranged all of my sex toys, array of videos and assortment of books that I've collected over the years. I'm both embarrassed and proud to show them off to Anne, and I made sure to present them well, arranged on white silk, as if they were trophies. A day ago I would have been horrified for anyone to even know I had these things, but now I'm showing them off, hoping that they are good enough.

Anne gave my shameful collection a cursory glance, but said nothing, her expression unreadable.

After seating her at the head of the table, I retreated to the kitchen, debating on the wisdom of what I planned to do. In one of my favorite books, the heroine of the story is a slave to a powerful master, and she wears only what the master desires her to wear. I turned the furnace up earlier, so it's warm in the house, but I feel a shiver of forbidden excitement as I stripped naked, replacing my clothes with a simple apron. I felt a powerful surge of arousal course through me, my nipples growing hard from more than just the cold.

I'm more than aroused, I'm super horny.

I don't understand why I feel this way, only that it makes me feel alive for the first time in years, and I would do anything to stay this way.

I'm a junkie, willing to do anything to keep the high going.

I present lunch to Anne.

She does not so much as bat an eye upon seeing my attire, as if I were dressed in jeans and t-shirt for the casual lunch we normally shared.

I can't read Anne and that is very unnerving. She was not at all the woman I have known for ten years. My best friend has undergone a radical transformation. Who this woman sitting at my table really is, I can't say, only that I must win her blessing, to be in favor once more, and that I must please her in all ways.

Nervously I stood at her side, ensuring everything is perfect.

"Alice, aren't you going to join me?" Anne asked, her voice calm and friendly. "There is much we have to discuss."

"Does this meet your approval?" I asked.

Anne smiled, embarrassed, a glimpse of her old self shining through. The dominatrix was gone, the Demoness relegated to the shadows once more. "Enough of the role play. Please eat with me, you're making me uncomfortable standing there naked."

"I-" I hesitated. I didn't know what to do.

Was there no hope? Was Anne going to tell me that the dream of last night was now over?

Anne frowned, shook her head. The Demoness appeared briefly. It's hard to describe the transformation. There were no outwards changes in her appearance. It was as if her presence changed, a subtle shift from the woman I have known for years to a Demonic seductress exuding an air of sensuality, of wanton desire.

"Sit." The Demoness commanded.

I took my place at the table.

The weirdness simply won't go away.

I'm having lunch with my dominatrix best friend, while I am naked wearing only an apron. Behind me I've displayed all of my dark little secrets, the things no one should ever know about me.

And it all seem so ordinary and weird at the same time, as if we do this all the time, or perhaps a dream that will never end.

We engaged in small talk; the weather, when the craft store was going to put that fabric we both like on sale after Christmas or News Years, that sort of thing while we ate, which only added to the weirdness.

Finally, as lunch wound down, Anne considered the bottle of wine we shared. "You got anything stronger?"

"Whiskey." I replied, rising from my seat. Drinking meant lunch was over, and now the real conversation would begin. "I think I have soda-"

"Just ice." Anne said.

That's surprised me. Anne is not a straight whiskey drinker, always preferring to mix it with cola.

I wanted to ask questions as I fetched the bottle, but was afraid I would miss the answer. I quickly returned with the bottle and a bowl of ice and two glasses.

Anne dumped several cubes in her glass, poured herself a considerable measure of whiskey.

After taking a healthy swig, she turned back to me.

Anne managed a smile, her eyes piercing. The Demoness watching me intently. "Would you have fucked Carl if you were alone that day?"

My blood went cold. "What?"

Anne nodded. "The graduation party. I saw what happened in the kitchen."

"Oh my god." I whispered, horrified. "You never said anything!"

"What would be the point?" Anne said. "We all have our secrets. Would you have stopped?"

"No." I admitted with a touch of crimson in my cheeks. "Oh my god no. My greatest regret was not taking him to the guest room."

Anne nodded. "I guess the reason we're best friends is that we are the same, stuck in loveless marriages, both craving something we couldn't get from our husbands. Seems the only difference between us is that my problems were of my own making. I simply lost interest in sex with Steven. There was no intimacy in our marriage, and I admit I am at fault for that. Turns out sex and intimacy are necessary for a healthy relationship. Who knew? Since I didn't have interest in sex with Steven, that meant I wasn't interested in him, and that's so very true. We never should have married, but I was young, desperate for affection, the normalcy of what marriage was supposed to bring. When I learned Steven was having an affair, I knew I was at fault. The affair was a convenient excuse for the divorce and to make sure I got the house and most of his money."

Anne smiled. "When Connie gifted me Liam, I was powerless to resist what happened. I didn't want to stop. Turns out it wasn't sex I had lost interest in, it was having sex with my husband that bored the hell out of me. Had I been in your flip flops that day, I would have fucked Carl's brains out. You're stronger than I am it would appear."

I managed a smile, then something she said struck me.

"Gifted?" I asked. "Liam was a gift?

Anne grinned. "There's a reason Connie chose me over her flesh and blood father to visit for Christmas."

My shock was evident.

"You and Connie?" I finally asked.

"Since her eighteenth birthday." Anne nodded, shrugged sheepishly. "Horny stepmother thing. Started out as revenge for Steven's affair, but one thing led to another."

"Holy shit." I murmured, struggling to understand what Anne was telling me. She and Connie were lovers?

All this time and I had no idea.

"We were supposed to share Liam for Christmas." Anne smiled. "Hell of a Christmas present for me."

Anne lapsed into silence, her expression turning distant and unreadable, and the mood darkened perceptibly.

She cleared her throat.

"I've been lying to you, my family, everyone." Anne said quietly, gazing at her drink.

"What lie?" I ask, genuinely puzzled.

"My name isn't Anne Donahue. My real name is Hope Caldwell."

"What?" I asked, wondering if Anne is pulling my leg. I didn't get the joke. "You in the Witness Protection or something?"

"I wish." Anne snorted dismissively. "Until last night I was ashamed of my past."

"I don't understand." I said, and I really had no idea.

Anne looked up. "My mom was one of the highest paid Dominatrix's in New York. Had clients from around the world. I was following in her footsteps, poised to be her successor."

I was stunned by her admission. As far as I knew, Anne was an abandoned child. "What happened? Why did you quit?"

Anne shook her head, fell quiet for a time.

"Anne? You alright?" I asked awkwardly.

"Still hurts." Anne said quietly. "All these years, and it still hurts."

"Sorry?" I asked.

"Trisha- mom was murdered." Anne said, tears brimming in her eyes. "She died in my arms."

"Oh." I say, unable to think of what to say.

Anne took another long swallow of her drink, finishing the whiskey, the ice clinking forlornly in her glass. "One of mom's clients-" Anne started, suddenly choked.

She stared into her now empty tumbler, a tear running down her cheek. She cleared her throat. "One of mom's clients wanted to buy me, like I was a prized calf. Mom told him no, she wasn't going to whore me out. We were a lot of things but we weren't prostitutes. The client threatened us with blackmail, reveal our dark secret. One thing led to another and before I knew it, there was a struggle, and mom was on the floor in a pool of blood. Before she died, she made me promise to get out of the business, do something good with my life."

We sat in silence for a time. Anne's expression was distant, reliving a painful moment in her past. She wiped at her eyes several times, the tears flowing.

I waited patiently, not knowing what I could do.

Finally Anne sighed, rose from her seat, and went to the window, staring at the frozen world beyond. Her breath clouded the window. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, almost inaudible. "I was devastated. Trish was everything to me, she was my world, my wife, the love of my life. She was my reason for being. When she passed, everything I was died with her. "

Wait, wait. Back the fuck up, I thought, trying to take in everything Anne was saying. Something she said didn't make sense. 'Wife?' Did she just say 'wife', as in married to another woman? Was Anne saying she had an incestuous lesbian relationship with her mother?

Holy shit!

Who is this woman I thought I knew?

Anne wasn't finished with her story. "I ran. Lived on the streets for a while. I found the body of a runaway girl who over dosed. No one missed her, no one went to look for her. I traded purses with her, became her, lived the life that could have been hers. Really didn't think my new identity would hold up to scrutiny, and I was terrified one day someone would learn the truth. Got married for all the wrong reasons. For ten years I've kept this secret from everyone. Everything I am is based on a lie."

Anne sighed deeply, before turning her attention back to me, her eyes wet with tears. "Sorry. This is the first time I've told anyone the truth."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

"I married if only to get off the streets, became a respectable woman, just as Trish- mom wanted." Anne refilled her glass with ice and whiskey. "The lie became the truth. Hope Caldwell was dead and buried as far as I was concerned. That was until-" Anne paused, gave a deep sigh.

"Until Liam?" I asked. "Was that when everything changed?"

"No." Anne shook her head, looking down at the floor shamefully. Took another drink. "It wasn't Liam."

"Last night?" I asked, a chill racing up my spine as I thought through her words. "Me?"

"You changed everything." Anne nodded, bringing her gaze back to me. "Until last night I was a horny cougar getting my kink on with my step daughter's boyfriend. When I heard you come through the back door, you scared the crap out of me. Something just snapped in my mind. I remembered you and Carl at the party. I knew why you were there, and I knew what I had to do so you would never say anything. My secret would become our secret. I preyed on your weakness, seduced you using skills that I learned from my mom."

Anne shook her head. "Last night, you released a part of me I thought locked away and forgotten. I don't think I can cage that beast again. What scares me most is that I don't think I want to."

"Why?" I asked. "Why does it scare you?"

Anne shook her head. "For almost twelve years I thought that part of my life was behind me. The confused girl, Hope Caldwell has been dead for years. I am Anne Donahue now, even if I stole that person's identity. I am me, somebody important, somebody that matters. But last night showed me that my past isn't as distant as I thought. Hope Caldwell- god, it sounds weird saying that name after all this time. Like nails on a chalkboard. I don't know who I am. Am I Anne Donovan or am I Hope Caldwell wearing the mask of Anne Donovan? Have I worn the mask for so long that I now believe my own lies? I feel like I've been sober for years and last night I fell off the wagon, and I don't want to get back on it. If I don't get back on, what's going to happen? I- I don't know. A part of me really missed Hope, but I like being Anne. It's tearing me apart."

"Anne, you're not Hope Caldwell. You haven't been for years." I said, attempting to be comforting, and failing miserably.

Anne shook her head, sniffed back a tear. "Yes I am. Look what I've done to you, my best friend, really the only friend I've ever known. I manipulated you, seduced you into having sex with a boy barely older than your own son. I've stripped you of your modesty, and now you're sitting here naked, willing to do anything I command. In a single night I've completely destroyed our friendship, made you into something you would not have recognized yesterday, and it was so easy to do. I'm truly, deeply sorry for that."

"Sorry for what?" I asked, motioned to my apron. "Sorry for making my fantasy's come true? For too many years all I've ever fantasized about was something like this happening to me. You don't know how sexually frustrated I've been! I've spent the best years of my life with a man that was afraid to come out of the closet! I've missed so much! I want all those wasted years back! I wanted to fuck my son's best friend for christ sake! I never thought it would take my best friend to fulfill these fantasies. I'm stunned, I'm shocked, but damn Anne, I'm having the best time of my life!"

Anne regarded me closely. "Don't you regret anything you have done in the last twelve hours?"

"I regret disobeying you." I replied with all my conviction. "Anne, you may have opened the door to me, but I stepped through that door knowing what I was doing. I may have unleashed the demon within you, but you have unlocked that part of me I only ever fantasized about. I'm stunned it's you that is showing me this new world, but I don't want to go back to what I was."

"You don't know what you're asking." Anne persisted.

"Don't I?" I challenged. "I've read the books, watched the movies, imagined a thousand other fantasies. I've worn out so many vibrators I might as well own stock in them! I've been a straight and narrow nurse way too long. I think it's time to have a dark secret myself. It's too late to go back the way we were before. I want to experience more, and it's got to be you to show me the way."

Anne remained unconvinced.

I doubled down, speaking from deep within: "Please Anne, I don't want to go back to what I was, the dour mousy woman afraid of her own shadow. I don't care about your past, all I care about is where we are at this moment. I can't tell you what the future will bring. I don't know how this is going to end. I just don't want it to end today, and we go back to our mundane lives. Please Anne, I'm begging you, don't let this go."

Anne thought for a while, tormented by her inner demons.

Then I thought of something else. "Why do you have to choose between Hope or Anne? Can't you be both? Who says you can't be a council woman Anne by day and Hope the Dominatrix in your private life? Fuck Anne, you're divorced, you're on your own, just like me. Who cares what your hobbies are? Who's going to know what you do behind closed doors?"

Anne stared at me intently for a moment, weighing the merit of my words.

Then a slow smile appeared on her face, the Demoness returning, the glint in her eyes blazing brightly. Her fear and indecision were gone at last. She refilled her drink, rose and went to study what was my sex life for the last eighteen years.

And just like that, she became the woman she was meant to be.

The change was startling and more than a bit disconcerting and for a moment, I wondered what I had just unleashed onto the world.

"What kind of books are your favorite?" The Demoness asked, long nails gliding across the spines of the books. It was if I could feel her touch on my skin, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

"I like a lot of different kinds." I said, staring at the sordid display of my sexual inadequacies I lived with for so long. "But I think my absolute favorites are that series on the right. Takes place in a fantasy world. The diary of a witch working in a brothel. A lot of bondage and discipline, the ones where the woman gets tied up and has things done to her."

"Why?" The Demoness wanted to know, picking up one of the well worn volumes. She flipped it open to one of the dogged eared pages, favorite scenes in the stories. One of the patients at the medical center had left that one behind for the nursing staff to find. It became a popular book passed around the wards until I got it. Long out of print, I searched online used book stores for almost two years to find the other books from the series, and was rather proud I now had the complete set.

"I don't know really." I admitted. "Just something about being powerless, helpless, unable to stop what is happening, forced to be the submissive."

"You like the fantasy of having your choices taken away from you. That describes rape." The Demoness pointed out, scanning the page.

"Yeah, but in the books, the woman submits to her master, learns to love and adore him." I said as she closed the book and set it back in place. "Sometimes I want to be that woman, sometimes I want to be the mistress, especially when she has a handsome man in her clutches."

"Like Liam." The Demoness observed, snooping through the other things on the table.

"He was the perfect bait for your trap. Muscular, handsome and a big dick." I said.

"Gay porn?" She asked with an amused expression, picking up one of the DVD's. I almost didn't include that one, fearing what she would think. I also knew I could not disobey her, and brought down everything I could find.