The Secret Life of Rica 5: Bea In Chains

(story continues from The Secret Life of Rica 4: Bea Investigates)

Chapter 5: Bea In Chains

Erica knelt straddling her victim. Bea was naked, chained to the bed by her wrists.

“I should leave you like this, it would serve you right,” Erica said.

“If you stay, I don’t mind at all.”

Relief. The passionate feeling was gone. She’d almost done something incredibly stupid. Bea wasn’t her friend. Bea didn’t even like her, couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. She’d probably even had something to do with the boys moving out. She couldn’t let this crazy bitch manipulate her any further.

“What is your game Bea? You barely speak to me, then you want to make me dinner, and now you want me to… I don’t know what you want. Is this some kind of prank? Is there a hidden camera filming this and you’re going to upload the whole thing overlaid with snarky commentary and a laugh track?”

“I just want you,” Bea said. “Why would you think anything else?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I admit, all those guys I brought back here were just to make you jealous. It was you all along. You, you, you. Obviously, everybody wants you Rica. Boys, girls, in-between. Everybody.”

Erica had to be hearing things. “What the…”

“I know I don’t deserve you and you can have your pick, but I thought I’d got lucky. Sorry.”

“That’s a total crock Bea. Ignoring the really absurd, even your story about the guys is bee-ess. How could you make me jealous if you don’t know me and I’m not into you at all? Why would I get jealous?”

“But you were into them weren’t you? They were hunky guys. Didn’t you want them? I saw how you looked at them. We could have had them together…”

“Now this just turned down a whole new road I wasn’t expecting.”

Bea rattled the cuffs. “I this hoped it meant you finally wanted me. I can’t help it if I’m a girl who likes other girls. That’s only wrong in the Bible.”

“You mean a lesbian? There are no lesbians in the Bible Bea, it’s so male-centric they don’t even acknowledge they exist.”

“There’s a mention in Romans,” Bea said.

“How would you know that Bea? No. Don’t answer.”

“Anyway, we both agree it’s alright to like other women, right?”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” Erica said. “This is just some trick where you and all your tweetle book friends all laugh their asses off at the dorky girl.”

“I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Sure, I want you to chain me up and do things to me. You know? Dirty things? Kinky stuff? I know you’re into it. Think of all the things that we could do together? Think what you could do to me. You can do anything you want. Anything at all. I won’t mind. It’s destiny, we’ll be together in the end for sure.”

“I am not ‘into it’. You had these chains on your bed, you put them here as part of your … thing … whatever this craziness is. Why are they even here? It doesn’t make sense. Were you planning to use them on me?”

Bea gave a giggle. “No, no. I chain myself up all the time and pretend you’ve done it. I lie here waiting for you to come, but it never happens. Not until today. When you forced me in here.”

“Really? How would you get free?”

“I freeze the key in a block of ice but this time my dream came true. I can’t get loose by myself at all. I’m completely helpless.” She giggled again and rattled the chains, testing them. Straining against the chains she gave a porn star moan. “Can you imagine how this feels? That’s why I can finally tell the truth. I can say anything to you right now. I can admit it because I’m at your mercy. Completely vulnerable. It’s keeping me really wet and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t even get myself off.”

Bea’s body was hot beneath her, Bea’s chest flushed, her nipples hard, her breasts swollen with arousal and the tension in her belly was palpable. But she had to be faking it somehow. She had to be.

Erica jumped off Bea and backed away. Her breath came in gasps. She had to calm herself down. She’d forgotten that she was wearing nothing but a ridiculous pair of girly ruffled knickers and a short camisole that was practically see-through. She felt the embarrassment heating up inside her, the fear rising, inflating her like hot air in a balloon. She had to focus on something – anything – else.

Erica glanced around the room. “Where’s the key for those things?”

“I’m not telling,” Bea said. Then she laughed. “Not until you’ve made me your property. You have to put your collar on me. You know? Like in those books of yours?”

“How do you even know about that? One book. One lousy book. Is that what started this? Don’t worry, I’ll find the key.”

“Open the bottom drawer. It’s in there.”

Erica sniffed dismissively, but opened the drawer. It seemed to contain neatly folded underwear.

“Pull it right out,” Bea said.

Erica pulled the drawer out onto the floor. The bras and panties were just a disguise. At the back were chains, locks, cuffs, rope, gags, leather hoods – all kinds of sick toys – but no keys. Sick toys? Erica couldn’t pretend superiority, she had worse in her room.

The temptation was real. What would it be like to have Bea gagged, chained, silent, and compliant? To keep her completely helpless and unable to pose any danger to her? To ride her face for orgasms on a whim? No. There was probably some kind of evil blackmail lurking at the other end of all this. It was the only rational explanation. She was probably walking into a trap. In fact, maybe it was too late already.

“There’s a collar in there. I’ve never worn it. I’ve been saving it, just in case. Put it on me. Please…”

“No.”

“I’m begging you. I promise after that I’ll tell you where the keys are. I get it. I don’t deserve to be yours yet. Don’t worry, I’ll earn your trust. I’ll do anything. Just tell me… Just tell me what you want. I’ll do it, whatever it is.” Bea’s voice had turned into an annoying whine.

“Sure. Whatever. Tell me, where are the keys?”

Erica yanked out a second drawer and upended it in the middle of the floor, making a mess of all the neatly folded clothes. Still no keys.

“First the collar. I had it engraved specially.”

Erica wrenched another drawer off its rails, dumping its contents in a heap as she searched it, and then another, fruitlessly. Nothing. She looked in a few other obvious places. Still no keys.

Erica cursed. “Alright Bea, but once the collar is on all this has to stop. Promise me… And if you upload any of this to the internet I will find some way to turn it against you. I will.”

“I promise. Cross my heart.”

“You better.”

Erica rifled through the bondage drawer. The collar was in a presentation case, inside was a device of hard stainless steel, in two parts, lined on the inside with soft, rubbery plastic. On the front it was engraved with cheesy cursive script, like the front of a steamy historical romance novel, ‘Rica’s bitch.’

“You have got to be kidding me,” Erica said, each word followed by a period of disbelief.

“Do you like?”

“No.”

“I ordered it weeks ago. You know there’s no way I could have something like that made in a couple of days.”

Erica turned the thing over in her hands, as if it would somehow become less unreasonable once she knew how it worked. “Did I ask? It just means you’ve been planning something for a long time.”

“This is just so everyone will know the truth.”

“You’re sick. It’s not true and nobody wants to know it.”

“You made me this way,” Bea said.

Erica sighed. This was getting tedious. “Made you what way? You did everything by yourself.”

“How come you don’t have a boyfriend Rica? All the guys want you.”

“What have you been smoking Bea? Take a look at me! Take a look. Take a good look at the plain, dorky girl. Ok. Some guys have really low standards. Maybe what I look like doesn’t matter. But it’s a fact, it’s impossible for me to have a conversation with a guy, let alone let one touch me.”

Bea giggled. “You’re so funny too. You’re just teasing me now. Guys would queue up just to let you tread on them, which is all they deserve. They’re not fit to touch you. Every guy I brought here would have made a fool of himself to get into your pants if I’d let him.”

“And you are plain nuts. There are squirrels with less nuts than you. Even that squirrel in Ice Age has it more together than you do.”

“I’m so happy thinking of all the things you are going to do to me. Maybe not today, but soon…”

What was with this psycho? Wouldn’t she ever give up? Holding the collar, Erica straddled her.

“Here it comes Bea. You asked for it. I hope it’s everything you imagined.”

Beneath her, Bea’s body was burning up, squirming suggestively beneath her. Erica closed the two halves of the collar around Bea’s neck. The parts locked together with a loud snap. Erica tested it, pulling on both sides. It wouldn’t come apart, and it fit snugly round Bea’s neck, with barely room to get a finger beneath.

“Thank you Mistress,” Bea said breathily.

“I’m not your mistress.”

“It says you are right here. You put it on me and it’s not coming off. Oh… It’s going to be so humiliating for everyone to see what you’ve done to me. I’ll have to wear pads just to stop from soaking my panties, it will be so sexy.”

“You’re disgusting. Now where are the keys?”

Bea laughed. “They’re in the case under the bed.”

Under the bed, there were several storage tubs full of clothes in vacuum bags and an aluminium briefcase like something from a spy thriller. Impossible to miss. The worst hiding place ever, and somehow she’d missed it.

Was it locked, another sick joke? No. The two closures popped open with a touch. Inside were keys in individual clear plastic bags, all helpfully labelled, such neat writing. Bea certainly was meticulous. Erica pawed through the bags until she spotted one marked ‘bed, wrist cuffs’. She kept on searching, looking for a key to the collar, but after checking each bag in turn she had nothing.

“Where’s the key to the collar Bea?”

“Key?”

“You know what a key is. For the collar.”

“There’s no key for that. Once it’s on, it stays on. You had to know that right? You can’t see a keyhole can you?”

Erica grabbed the collar, spinning it around, checking each section. Apart from the inscription, and the carefully concealed joins, the collar was featureless. Erica growled.

Bea giggled. “Oh yes. I love it when you’re rough.”

“Would you stop that? I’m fed-up with it.”

“I can’t help it.”

“There has to be a way to get this stupid collar off.”

“It’s supposed to be hardened steel. I guess it can come off somehow but not with a regular hacksaw. It has a guarantee and everything. Dangerous to try and cut it... Arteries and stuff. See, I’m yours for keeps. Isn’t it wonderful? I can’t take it off, whether I want to or not. That’s the point.” Bea gave an idiot grin.

“You can wear that stupid thing all your life for all I care. Actually. No. I do care. It’s coming off. Go to the hospital and get rid of it.”

“You knew what it said. I don’t care what you pretend now, I’ll follow you no matter where you go. I’ll always find you, like a faithful dog. Woof woof.”

“You are certifiably insane.”

Bea rattled the chains holding her to the bed. “Good thing I’m under restraint then.”

“And irritating. And monotonous.”Erica unlocked the cuffs, releasing Bea. “Now get lost.”

Bea repaid her with a mournful look. “Yes Mistress.” Dragging her feet, she walked out of the room, naked apart from the collar.

“Wait. Come back and get dressed,” Erica yelled after her.

Bea returned a moment later. “I only want to please you. I can be obedient. Honest. Just don’t send me away. I can’t stay apart from you. I don’t have the will-power for that.”

“I’m not having anything to do with you or this… If this isn’t just a prank on me, you should get help, you probably need it even more than I do. Delusional obsessions aren’t healthy.”

Erica hurried out of Bea’s room and back to her own. She locked the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to get her hyperventilation under control.

“And stay out,” she whispered.

Some Regrets, a Dream and Four Texts

The next morning, after the incident with Bea, Erica woke up in a bed soaked with sweat. She daren’t leave the room. The fear was back.

She sat at the computer and shut down all the secondary web-sites she’d set up. Once that was done, she taped up the boxes with her new purchases and hid them away at the back of her closet.

The main site would never go live. She left the blank “coming soon” page until last. Her finger hovered over the final keystroke. Tears streaked down her face. Bea had proved that there was no future for her as an internet porn star. She was broke, a failure, a psychological wreck. How had she ever thought porn was a good idea for anyone, let alone her?

She crawled back into bed, not even bothering to get a drink. The cold began to seep into her bones. She dozed but couldn’t sleep properly. Dreams, or nightmares came but she was still half-awake.

She was walking through the university plaza with the big fountain in the middle. It was sunny, the deep blue sky unblemished by clouds. A cool breeze played with her simple white sundress and she had to hold the big floppy hat down to stop it blowing away. The fluttering ribbon brushed against her fingers. The impish breeze played around her private parts, free of underwear.

She climbed onto a bench by the side of the fountain, and from there up onto the square lower pedestal of the fountain. Standing there, facing the administration buildings, she lifted up her skirt and revealed her naked pussy.

The people wandering past mostly ignored her, some stopping to stare. A few stayed to watch, moving closer. She stood there, motionless. Minute by minute, hour by hour, the people watching grew more numerous, starting to form a crowd.

The sun began to set, the air turning chill. A sea of empty vacant faces filled the plaza in front of her, crushed together in their thousands, each one staring at her exposed genitals. She dropped her dress. A murmur spread through the crowd and then one by one, they began to wander off and scatter. A few minutes later only one remained.

It was Bea, naked apart from her collar, a stupid smile on her face.

*

She woke in pain. She’d been too long in bed and every part of her body ached. She pulled herself up and checked her phone. It was four-thirty in the morning. There were twenty-two missed calls and four texts, all from Bea. Nobody else had tried to contact her, but that part was normal.

She checked the texts:

Subject: What can I do? I don’t know why you don’t believe me. Is there something I could do to change your mind? It was sure you wanted me. What happened? Subject: Worried Are you ok? I won’t come and bang on your door. It’s lonely here without you. Subject: I made a video Does this help?

There was a URL with a big random number at the end of it, and then the fourth text.

Subject - Account details I’ve locked the video so only you can see it, for now. Here are the login details. I made the account specially. Change the password so I don’t know it. You can open it up to the world any time you want. There are stills too.

Erica navigated to it. It was something on me-tube. Whatever it was, she was probably going to regret looking.

She logged in. The title of the video was ‘A slut rejected by her mistress. I hope she changes her mind.’ Definitely ominous.

It began with a close up on Bea’s face. The collar was clearly visible, the inscription legible despite the highly compressed video. She was leaning into the camera, too close, all fish-eye-distorted big nose and eyes.

“For the record, I like girls. All those guys I hooked up with, I was just using you ok? You can all hate me for that, but you had it coming with all your lech-ing. Yes, that’s why you didn’t get any.” Bea made a rude gesture with the fingers of one hand in an O, her index finger moving in and out.

The video went on. “The last year I’ve been hooked on this girl. Yesterday I thought we were finally going to get together. I guess it’s not going to happen yet, but I know it will someday. It’s destiny.”

Erica touched the screen and checked how much was left. Bea was tedious even on video. “She won’t tell me why she’s so angry but I know I did something wrong. I must have. Maybe she’s mad that a shallow girl like me is interested in her. She’s way out of my league. I scrub up alright with pretty clothes and makeup, but it’s all surface, nothing underneath. She can go out in anything, combats, an old shirt, hair in a ponytail, and everyone will still be looking at her, like, wow.”

Erica gave a snort of derision, though there was nobody to hear her.

“So I made this video to let her know that I’m not playing any kind of trick. She never asked me to do this. In fact, she told me to go away, to leave her alone and to get help. Obviously, I didn’t listen. I still want her. Always will. If you want to laugh at somebody, laugh at me.” Bea stepped back from the camera, and there she was naked. A chain hung between clover-clamps on her nipples. Weights hung from clamps on her pussy lips.

Erica winced and looked away from the screen. She’d seen porn like this, always looked away from that too. But she’d never met those women in real life. It hadn’t felt real. This was different. It was real and personal.

The video ended. Erica’s head was pounding. She needed coffee, badly.

She was still wearing the camisole and ruffled panties from the day before, smelly and stained with sweat. Cold, she wrapped herself in the white fluffy bathrobe she’d bought a year ago and left hanging on the back of her door ever since, and headed down to the kitchen.

There was no coffee machine. The guys had taken it. She found the old plastic pour-over jug in the back of the cupboard and put a filter in. While the water was boiling, she looked at her phone again, considering the fourth and final text. She could unlock the video for public viewing, or delete it, or simply leave it…

Erica swallowed, her throat tightening. The kettle clicked off. Her mind was out of focus. Part of her was pouring the water into the filter. Part of her was playing the video back in her head, word by word, image by image. Part of her was back in the bathroom doorway, her hands on Bea’s body.

Rimkoff. Rimkoff had her tablet. Erica spilled boiling water over the worktop. It was locked, but she’d set it to show summaries for texts and emails on the lock screen. Normally, all her texts and emails were innocuous; she’d never considered it a risk.

If he hadn’t left the tablet to go flat, Rimkoff could see that URL. Could he see all of it, or was part of it cut off in the summary? She ran upstairs to the computer. Her fingers clattered over the keyboard in a frenzy. Was she in time?

Becoming Rica

Erica had lost two days. Even if she’d been on track there wasn’t any hope of getting the money she needed to pay Bea back for the rent this month. She wasn’t even sure if that deal still stood. She had to do something immediately.

She showered, taking her time, thinking herself into the part. Bea wasn’t waiting for her outside the bathroom. Was she disappointed at that? She shouldn’t think about it, the person she was now didn’t care about Bea.

She pulled the makeup box out of the closet.

She watched the tutorial twice more then began the work, hiding the dark circles under her eyes, smoothing and defining her ragged eyebrows, emphasizing her lips. It was more subtle than her efforts for the site. It looked like the experimental work of a teenager, but it really was Photoshop for the real world. She wasn’t Erica any longer.

Her hair was next. She pulled out the straightener she’d never used, then put it away again. Straight just wouldn’t be different enough. She tied rags from an old t-shirt into her wet hair. She didn’t need to re-watch the tutorial again, she could remember this one.

She stared into the depths of her closet. In front were all her shirts: big baggy man-shirts that hid her body. She grabbed them in a bundle, hangars-and-all and hurled them into the corner. Behind them were the things she’d bought for the site, packed away in cardboard boxes, stacked and taped closed.

She cut open the boxes with her nail-file, one after another until she found what she was looking for. Not all the clothes she’d bought for the site were completely absurd. Some were merely slutty, or more appropriate for a fifteen year-old than an adult.

She pulled on the white miniskirt and then squeezed herself into the tiny crop-top t-shirt. Her boobs peeked out of the bottom of it and her nipples were showing. Too much. She pulled it off, wriggled into a sports-bra, pulled the top back on. Better. She pulled the top down as far as it would go and checked the mirror. She was covered.

There were some strappy sandals with two-inch heels in her porn collection. She’d tried them before. The straps were a snug fit, stable, secure. She could walk in them, if she had to, and she would have to.

Her thick-framed glasses were on the bedside table but she ignored them. She searched the bottom drawer and finally found the black zip-up bag with her contacts. She hadn’t worn them in months.

Her hair was still wet. A few minutes with the dryer and she took out the rags. She checked the mirror. The curls were too tight. The guides had said no heat, and she’d ignored it, done things her way. It didn’t matter. It was fine. Nobody would recognize her in a million years.

She threw her keys, phone and wallet into her smallest backpack and headed out. Then she ran back in and put emergency makeup into her bag too.

Miracle Lie Takes Off Four Years

The manager at the burger bar peered at her over the top of her glasses. “How old did you say you are again?”

“Twenty.”

She’d been wrong about the shoes. Her feet were blistered from the scraping of the straps and ached from the heels. Two inches hadn’t seemed much when she set out, but by the time she’d got to the bus stop her feet were cramping. It had subsided to a dull ache. The blisters were the worst part. How was she going to last the rest of the day?

“Really. Do you have any ID?”

Erica reached into her backpack. Her student card was in her wallet, it was valid ID wasn’t it? She froze. There was a picture. If the manager saw it she might remember the girl who’d run out on her a few days before.

She pretended to search her backpack without success. “Sorry. I must have left it at home.”

“I’d know if it was fake anyway. You’re sixteen right?”

“What? Sorry?”

“If you’re a minor and school’s still in, I can’t give you more than eighteen hours a week.”

“You’ll let me work?”

“Sure. Just make sure you turn up for your shift. When you’re working your friends are not your friends, ok? No gossiping, no freebies, no discounts. If the register is down it comes out of your wages.”

“I promise it won’t happen. Thanks so much for letting me start.”

“You know the rates?”

“I think so.”

“And you’re ready to start right now?”

She nodded.

“Good. I know you kids never have any money, but I still can’t let you have the uniform as an advance. Some people don’t come back a second time. You’ll have to pay for it up front. When you’ve sorted that out with Jess, find Andrew.”

Oh no. Not more expense. What had the supervisor said? “Andrew?”

“He’ll be your immediate supervisor. Find him and ask him to get you set up and show you the ropes. I’ll come and do your paperwork in a few.”

She’d made it this far. If she could cope with this, and with crazy Bea, she could cope with that guy. Still, it was all she could do to not turn and run. In the end Andrew found her.

“Hi. New girl… You a student?” His gaze kept flicking down to check out her boobs.

“Umm, sorry. Yes, a student.”

“I’m Andrew.” His gaze caught hers. She was pinned, trapped. Her brain wouldn’t work if he kept looking at her like that.

“Um…”

“So, what’s your name? Ellen didn’t say what you were called.”

Her brain wouldn’t work. She was trying to think of a name and this guy was spouting names at her. “Ellen?”

“The manager.”

“Uh…”

“I need to make you a tag.”

The manager, Ellen, hadn’t asked for her name. There was no way she could tell the complete truth. Andrew or Ellen might remember it. She had to think of something that the tax office would let slide as long as her number was right. Quickly.

“Uh… It’s Rika. R. I. K. A.”

“Rika. Cute. Well, Rika, I don’t know why you came here, but we’re glad to have you. I’d have thought you’d be able to get a better job than this, but I probably shouldn’t put ideas in your head.”

“Better, nicer, how?”

“I guess I don’t know. Without the grease and steam and the incessant beeping noise, right?”

“I can’t do much. I don’t think I’d be in demand.”

Andrew chuckled. “Funny. Very funny. You hiding a criminal record or something?”

“What? No!”

Andrew laughed. “Just kidding.”

Erica went to apologize. Stopped herself.

“It looks like Ellen is giving me the evil eye. I think she wants to go through your paperwork. We can talk later. Get changed into your uniform and I’ll show you everything bit by bit. Break is in two hours. I want you trained up to take orders as soon as possible. It’ll be a crash course through the basics. Should only take a few days.”

Erica went to bite her lip, then remembered she was wearing lip-gloss. Taking orders didn’t sound like work she was cut out for. Why would they want her to do that?

Toast

Erica sat in the kitchen in the near dark. Only the lights under the cupboards were on. Bea wasn’t around, thank God.

She had completed the first ever day of work in her life. Ok, she couldn’t call it a day really, it wasn’t even half-a-day, but however short it was, she’d made it through. Maybe, somewhere down the line she’d be able to show them her ID and then she could work more hours.

There had to be a way to get a new ID, with a different picture, maybe even a different spelling of her name. There would be no new IDs until the next term. That plan wasn’t going to work. She needed to be making real money by the time the new term began.

Still, her half-day had been a comparative success. By her standards, a triumph. Ok. Her standards were low, but it was still progress. She ought to be proud of herself for getting through it without a single panic attack. Except she hadn’t really done it. Rika had. She wasn’t really sure who Rika was, but she wasn’t her.

She was waiting for her toast to grill. Funny. More toasting. She ought to be good at it now – officially a professional – but the burger bar’s toaster had turned out to be Erica proof. From experience she knew this one wasn’t.

The door slammed down the hallway and a moment later Bea bounced into the kitchen. Skipping. Like a child. What was wrong with her? Erica’s stomach felt heavy as lead. Rather than sit at the table, Bea sat down next to her, intentionally pulling her chair up close so they were almost touching.

Erica had to say something. But what could she say? Should she apologise? Should she say nothing had changed? She hadn’t made a decision about the video or about Bea. Maybe Bea was exactly what she seemed to be. There seemed something broken about her stupid persistence, like a toddler who didn’t know when to stop nagging.

If she didn’t know how Bea really felt or what she wanted, her own feelings were even more opaque.

Bea leaned over and sniffed at her in a disturbingly intimate way. “You smell greasy, like bad fast food.”

“Stop sniffing me,” Erica said. “I want to eat my toast in peace.”

“You better turn it off then. It’s making smoke.”

Erica snarled and popped up the toaster. Her toast was only slightly black. She could still save it.

“New job?” Bea said. She had a big smile on her face and to Erica’s chagrin it only seemed to be getting brighter. Couldn’t she just leave things be?

“Yes. I’ve got a new job.”

“What’s it like?”

Erica got up to scrape the toast. “It’s mind numbing drudgery.” She should ignore Bea. If she ignored her, she would lose interest and go away. She didn’t have what Bea wanted. She definitely liked guys. Definitely.

“That’s no good.” Bea’s concerned tone seemed sincere. Or could be fake. Erica closed her eyes. She was no good at this.

“It’s not much money. I won’t be able to afford to eat and pay my rent.”

“You don’t need to buy any food. I’ll cook for you and we can share. It won’t cost much more.”

“That’s not what I meant. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Things have changed, haven’t they? We’ve been in the same house for months but now we’re talking. We’re having a conversation. I feel all fuzzy inside. It’s so … domestic.”

“You are fuzzy in the head. You’re not normal.”

“Neither are you. So? I like you not normal.”

Erica didn’t have an answer to that. She shouldn’t be judging others. With a long sigh, she spread generic margarine on her toast. She didn’t have anything else to put on it. Bea didn’t have any peanut butter to steal, or anything at all with ‘carbs’ in.

Bea was annoying, but leaving the kitchen would be admitting defeat.

“I’m trying to get better, but you’re getting worse,” Erica said between bites of toast.

Bea turned the collar so that the engraved text ‘Erica’s Bitch’ faced forwards.

“I just want to be yours. I opened up everything to you. Why won’t you let me in?”

“Is it because you are sneaky, manipulative, basically bat-shit crazy?”

“Am I a bad girl? You can punish me if you like. It’s a little bit sexy when you put me down and call me names. So dominant… Assertive. I want you on top, but we can change over sometimes if you want to play. But only sometimes.”

“Is there anything I can do that you won’t think is sexy?”

“Would you like me to lick you? I think you would like it. You deserve to cum after a hard day of sweaty greasy work flipping burgers. I could do it right here. Nobody will come in and catch us doing it. If only they could. It would be so… So humiliating for me.”

How had Bea figured it was burgers? No. She couldn’t think about that now. “No. No thank you. That’s not necessary. Also, don’t you think it would also be embarrassing for me to be found doing that with you?”

“I guess. It would look a bit like you were slumming it.”

“What? Why are you always with this big joke of pretending that I am the hot one and you are the plain one? It’s upsetting. Really.”

“I’m not playing a joke on you. Why would I? And you can ruin me on campus any time you want with the video if you want to punish me. I think my parents would probably have me committed or send me to one of those camps where they cure you of the gay with God medicine.”

“I don’t hate you Bea. Maybe, I’d like us to get on. But as you’re either setting me up for something or a stalker... I don’t know which is worse. The more you convince me it’s not a trick the more I’m afraid you’ll attack me or someone else… Something like that.”

“I’m not violent. I’m very affectionate. Like a licky-dog. If you think I’m being naughty… I already mentioned punishment didn’t I?”

“I can’t think of any punishment that you wouldn’t enjoy,” Erica said. She added a grumbling noise for emphasis.

Bea gave her big smile.

Friendly Visit and an Invitation

Erica gritted her teeth when Bea walked through the door. She was wearing a scarf and a long coat that came down to her ankles, belted tight around her middle. It was a suspicious outfit for the middle of summer.

Bea ignored the other queues and came up to her register. “I’d like whatever you’ve got that’s hot and wet.”

“We have coffee,” Erica said. Then in a hissed whisper, “How did you find me? No. Don’t answer. Don’t come in here. Don’t ruin everything with your weird behaviour. Don’t screw this up. This job is important.”

Bea leaned in, whispered back, “I won’t ruin it for you. I just want to be near you.”

“Oh not this shit again,” whispered Erica.

Bea stepped back, made a show of answering. “I’m disappointed, but I guess coffee will do.”

“Would you like something to eat? If you buy a regular value meal you can add an apple pie for a dollar. Coffee is included.”

“Oh… Let me think…”

“Bea, what the eff are you doing?” Erica whispered. “Are you doing this on purpose to wreck what’s left of my life? Why do you have to pick on me? Is it because I can’t fight back?”

“I just wanted to see where you work.”

“Just order and go. I’m not supposed to gossip with friends.”

Bea gave her a huge smile. “A friend? I figure that’s progress.” Her voice louder, she added, “I think you’ve convinced me. I’ll have the meal. With coffee and the apple pie.” This was obviously absurd. Bea was no more likely to eat any of this junk food than she was likely to… What was Bea likely to do? There was a question to worry over.

Andrew’s voice came from behind her. “I can take this one if you want to go on your break now Rika.”

Erica jumped. “Andrew? I didn’t know you were right there.”

“Didn’t mean to surprise you.” He gently edged his way in front of her.

Her break wasn’t due for another five minutes. What was he up to? Did he want to hit on Bea? Never mind. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with Bea. “Thanks Andrew,” she said.

“Don’t worry about the register, I’ll sign you out in a minute.”

It was all totally against the rules. She stopped just behind the shake machine. They were out of sight but still in earshot. Though part of their conversation was drowned out by shouted orders and the beeping alarm.

“You’re a supervisor? So cool,” Bea said.

“Not really. The pay is bad. I’m still staying in a backpacker hostel. Hoping for promotion though.”

“Wow. What an amazing coincidence. Some guys moved out of our share house a while back. I’m looking for somebody to move in. Would you be interested?”

“You’re serious?”

“Sure. Why not? Me and my house-mate, we could really use the extra cash.”

“Your house-mate, you’re with Rika right?”

There was a pause. “Yes. How did you guess? Never mind. The rent’s not bad, if you’re interested?”

“That would be great. I’d need to see the house… Wait. Where is it?”

“It’s ten minutes on the bus from here. It would be even better if you have someone else you could bring in with you.”

“There might be a guy at the hostel. I know he’s been looking for a while. I think he’s safe, you know?”

Erica couldn’t believe it. The bitch. Probably he’d like the place and she’d have to share a house with her supervisor. They really did need the money, but it felt, underhand somehow. Bea had pulled something off. Maybe she’d been planning it all along.

There was no way Bea could know about the failed interview from before, or how awkward this would make things, was there?

 

 

You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum

05.12.15

story continues in The Secret Life of Rica 6: Trade Negotiations

o0o