Chapter 13: Nora Dines with Her Father

Nate was less than thrilled with Nora's plans for the evening, but there was no stopping them. Getting in front of Nora's Daddy was kinda like stopping to tie your shoe in front of a steamroller -- not smart. He took her home, and they necked a while, then he departed for home.

Nora decided that Daddy rated a better than average turnout, so she did the whole dress thing, a nice cocktail dress in blue with a wide skirt that de-emphasized her hips, and matching heels, all left over from the Homecoming Dance. What a waste THAT had been...

Seven o'clock came, and Jorge knocked on the door. Nora didn't make the dapper little man wait; she went out the door with a final nod to her mother, who was hopping from one foot to the other, trying to figure out what kind of advice to give her daughter for this interview...

The limo ride was accomplished in complete silence; Nora and Jorge had nothing, really, to say to one another on this evening; Nora was going to see it all for herself. The house was imposing; a finely built black woman in a maid's costume that managed to be utilitarian while exposing a bit of cleavage and a good bit of leg opened the door for her, and called her 'Miss'; there was a deference there, a respect for her, apparently JUST because of who she was. This struck Nora as pretty ironic, but she went with it.

Armand met her in what was apparently a library; her father was tall, dark, powerful-looking; he radiated another kind of power, just in the way he said, "Thank you, Leticia." He turned to Nora, and greeted her by holding her right hand in both his and delivering a quick squeeze. "Have a seat." Nora gingerly settled in an overstuffed leather chair. "A drink? Some wine, perhaps?"

"I'm not old enough, Daddy."

"Nonsense. In your own home?" The pair eyed one another, and Armand shrugged. Obviously, Nora wasn't ready to do any serious trusting of her male parent. "A Coke, perhaps?"

Nora nodded. "Please."

Armand thought about it, and hit a switch on his desk. "Consuela?"

"Master?"

Armand ALMOST visibly flinched; well, she'd learn, anyway... "Please bring my daughter a Coke. In a refrigerated, unopened can. Bring a glass, and an ice bucket, too."

"Yes, Master."

Armand settled in a chair opposite his daughter; this was going to be more difficult than anticipated. "I suppose you're wondering why I initiated this meeting after all this time..."

"Well, yes, Daddy." Nora waited, staring him down.

Armand steepled his fingers. "With the onset of your relationship with Mr. Adams, it appears that you have made the transition into young adulthood, and your mother's largely solitary task is complete. That being the case, it is time to complete your introduction to the real world."

"I see. What does that mean, exactly, Daddy?"

"It means that I have stayed out of the way while your mother taught you her concept of what is right and proper -- which I agree with, in the main. She taught you concepts such as fairness, and justice, and respect -- things I'd have watered down too much. So you know what is right..." Armand picked up a snifter of brandy and made the liquor whirlpool in the glass before taking a sip, "... but you're a babe in the woods where reality is concerned. I intend to teach you to protect yourself from your more noble impulses and to broaden your experience."

There was a knock, and a beautiful Hispanic woman in a black French Maid's frock that left virtually nothing to the imagination entered, bearing a tray. With a nod to Armand, she offered the tray's contents -- the Coke, presented just as her father had ordered -- to Nora. When Nora reached for the can, the woman withdrew fractionally, and murmured, "I can open it if you like, Miss."

Nora shrugged and nodded. Consuelo placed the tray on a side table and opened the can. "Ice, Miss?"

"Please."

Consuelo used tongs to place three cubes into the glass and poured, then again offered the glass from the tray. This time, Nora took it and sipped. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss."

"Consuelo," Armand rumbled.

"Master?" Consuelo's regard shifted from Nora to Armand as if a light switch had flicked, or a spotlight swung from one to the other.

"Tell Velma thirty minutes, in the dining room. Inez can assist in the service." Raoul was gone, the woman could take up the slack. "You will supervise."

"Yes, Master." Consuelo withdrew; Nora got a look at her face as she closed the door, and wondered what caused such seriousness. Something her father had said had caused the woman concern... Nora put two and two together, "Inez is new?"

Armand nodded. "Very. She has been here in the house for some time, but not as a servant; her husband held that position until I sent him away for being inept. Inez asked for and got a job fulfilling as many of his duties as she is capable of, and I believe that she will be an improvement, but she is currently inexperienced."

"... And making her responsible means that this maid -- Consuelo -- can be punished for Inez's mistakes..." Nora mused.

"Correct." Armand nodded approval. Nora wasn't an absolute fool... "Would you care to take a look around?"

"Okay."

"Bring the glass, if you like." For the next half hour, they wandered from room to room, Armand pointing out this or that to his daughter and answering questions. Finally, they arrived at the dining room, where a tall, blond man with a hard blank face waited. "This is Jason, my assistant. If you discover that you have needs and I am not immediately available, feel free to transmit them to him and he will see to their fulfillment. He is my right hand in many things."

Jason tilted his head slightly, as close as he came to a bow, while frigid blue eyes examined her, "Miss." Jason seated Armand at the table, then circled it and seated Nora. Finally, he went to the wall intercom unit and spoke quietly for a moment, before moving to a sideboard and extracting a bottle of wine. Nora and her father sat across from one another at the center of a long table that could probably seat twenty; obviously, the seats were chosen to create an intimacy that sitting twenty feet from one another would not have accomplished. Jason brought around a bottle, a white, for Armand to approve; he nodded and Jason went through the entire opening procedure, including the taste test. Jason didn't ask; he filled Nora's glass, too. Nora weighed her options and decided that she could merely refuse to touch it -- there was water available -- so she allowed it without comment. Pouring complete, Jason seated himself a few chairs down, an act that proclaimed, "I'm not just a servant."

Nora decided it was time to go on the attack, "So, where is it?"

Consuelo arrived, followed by a darker, heavier Hispanic woman carrying a tray. This must be Inez... Nora examined the pair; Consuelo was a thin, light-skinned woman with a model's build and a classical Spanish complexion and features; Inez was heavier, more robust, older, with tawny skin that suggested a lot more Indian blood. Inez was dressed totally differently than the other staff Nora had seen; instead of one variation or another on a servant's livery -- even a cliche like Consuelo's -- she was done up as a peasant, in a white cotton peasant blouse and a wide, dark skirt. Odd.

Even more odd was what occurred the moment she detected Jason in the room! Whipping the tray to a sideboard, she snatched at the neckline of her blouse, tugging it down until it rode under a pair of large, heavy round breasts. Then she made to pick up the tray again, obviously red-faced and shaken, and gamely turned to approach the table.

"Stop!" Jason commanded. Inez managed not to spill the soup and stood there, frozen. Armand, whose back was turned to this activity, absorbed Nora's look of shock and turned to see what was going on. As he absorbed Inez's state of undress, Jason murmured, "Sorry, Sir. I gave Inez specific instructions as to what she was to do when she entered a room with me in it."

"I see." Anger and amusement warred in Armand, but amusement won out; Nora needed to know what went on here, after all. Besides, Inez was SOOO entertaining...

Inez was awash in humiliation and embarrassment. The men, well, they were men, and they both had the right to use her, let alone see her nudity. But there was a young girl here! Inez frankly couldn't think of a thing more embarrassing than to have those shocked and curious eyes dwell upon her exposure...

Jason offered to put a patch on things, "I can override the command..."

Armand shrugged. "Too late, I think. Besides, it's instructive." He turned back to Nora, who was watching the poor woman shake, "We do things a bit differently around here." Nora shifted her attention to her father and nodded, thoughtfully. Armand turned to Consuelo, "Alert the Wench -- she will deliver dessert."

Consuelo nodded. Jason waved his hand, "Continue." Inez lurched into motion, and delivered Armand's soup, then rounded the table and delivered Nora's.

Nora found that she couldn't resist looking at Inez's heavy mounds as they went pendant while she bent before her to deliver the bowl. "Thank you, Inez."

Inez started, but replied, "You're welcome, Miss," in a soft, Spanish accent.

Armand looked on, amused. Nora was doing quite well, he thought. His mind returned to the conversation before the service interruption, "Where is what, Daughter?"

Inez, backing away, froze, and hissed a gasp at another shock! Lord Armand's daughter!? She'd heard rumors of such a legendary creature, but as far as she knew, the girl, if she existed at all, had never put in an appearance here in the several years she'd occupied the servant's quarters... She gazed at Nora in frank wonder.

Armand chuckled. "Usually, servants are impassive; Inez, however, is an open book, something I'm learning is wildly entertaining..."

"I see that," Nora observed, turning to the older woman. "No one is more surprised at my presence here than I am, I assure you," she added, smiling warmly.

Inez, reassured, bobbed her head and darted off, pausing to curtsey before Jason, whose teeth were showing. "Try not to spill anything."

"Yes, Master." Inez pattered out. A bemused Nora noted that she was barefoot. There was a weird dynamic, here, with Jason, too...

Nora gathered herself in. "Where is the dungeon, Daddy?"

Armand chuckled. "After dinner. No reason to spoil your digestion."

In the hall, Inez repositioned her blouse. "Is that REALLY Lord Armand's daughter?"

"Yes," Consuelo replied curtly. She hadn't decided whether Inez's pattern of goof-ups was going to get her thrashed or not. Certainly with both Master Armand and Jason in the room... "It IS her first visit; I've only seen her on Master's surveillance videos, before..." She waved Inez along. "We need to prepare for the salad course..." She frowned. "Generally, we try NOT to react to every little thing said and done in our Master's presence!" she scolded.

Nora smiled and applied herself to the soup, which was Mulligatawny, a curried, creamy, chicken-broth concoction that tasted wonderful. After a few spoonfuls, she asked, "I didn't notice Consuelo curtseying to Jason..."

Armand nodded. "Jason's position confers upon him supervisory control over all of the inside servants, as well as dozens of other things, but recently we've branched out into new territories, such as chattel slavery. Inez is unique in many ways, not the least of which is the fact that while she is my employee, she is a slave to Jason. There are reasons for this that may require explanation at some point, but for now, let's just say that they are victims of a unique set of circumstances."

"Isn't slavery illegal?"

"Strictly speaking, yes; however, if one voluntarily gives up one's civil rights... This is distinctly new, largely because it doesn't conform to my normal preferences for the conduct of a relationship -- but I have recently discovered that some people just prefer to handle things simply -- simple goals, simple behavioral requirements, simple needs... Inez is new to the situation, but has a certain fatalistic temperament; while there might be some question of coercion in her case, ultimately, I don't think she sees it as an issue." Armand returned his attention to his soup.

"Are there others?"

Armand nodded, swallowed, and amplified, "One. I'll let you ask her the details of her disposition yourself; I'm still at a loss, in some respects. I had to divert one of the staff to duties as an overseer; slaves require closer supervision."

"To keep them in line?" Nora asked.

"More to keep them feeling gainfully employed, supported, and protected."

Nora nodded, sipping from her water glass. Armand smiled to himself; the wine was there as a temptation -- the longer Nora took to try it, the more impressive her restraint was to him. Jason had furthered his objective by not asking before pouring Nora's glass; to a certain extent, the man was a mind reader...

In the kitchen, Velma supplied the Caesar salad, and Inez collected the tray. "Concentrate upon delivery," Consuelo instructed, "and I'll concentrate on pickup. Stand still." Inez did so, and Consuelo rearranged her blouse again, re-exposing her breasts. At Inez's disconcerted grunt, she announced, "I'll not have you holding up food service every time we appear in the entrance to the dining room! It's a short trip, and God knows I've been all over the house, nude, executing MY Master's wishes..." She turned peremptorily and led Inez out, Velma's chuckle echoing behind.

"Consuelo refers to you as 'Master'," Nora inquired, "Is she the other slave?"

"No," Armand replied, "Consuelo has chosen to refer to me that way, and I have chosen to allow it -- but she is an employee."

"Daddy, I get the impression that NONE of the employees are just that..."

Armand laid down his spoon and steepled his fingers. "Perhaps. However, some of them may leave my employ voluntarily at any time, risking no more than, let us say, a bad reference." Nora interpreted this as follow-through on a threat of blackmail -- which was absolutely correct! Armand read that understanding in her eyes. "Others... may not, for one reason or another."

The salad course arrived, Consuelo preceding Inez around the table, whisking the soup plates away and placing them on the tray as Inez delivered the salad. Inez's breasts were again exposed; the woman seemed to be dealing with it until she made to pass Jason on the way out. Jason stopped her, making her hold the tray while he fondled her right breast, deliberately, for several seconds. Inez, bright red, glanced behind her at Nora. Jason frowned and grasped her hips, turning her until her position no longer hid his activity, then resumed mauling the breast. Armand vouchsafed the activity a small smile; Nora merely watched, her face expressionless. In a moment, Jason let Inez go, and she hurried from the room. Armand waited until she was gone to observe, "Yes, Jason WAS deliberately humiliating her. Inez is being punished; both Jason and I believe that the mental component of discipline is the most important one. Your presence provides a fine opportunity to humiliate Inez, powerfully bringing home her condition to her."

"Should I stop?" Jason asked, oriented more toward Nora than Armand.

"It's not... required."

"Inez is so artless," Armand mused. "She's a joy to watch; the play of expression..."

"You enjoy this?"

"Yes." Armand was forthright about it. "Making people obey me against their will is a particular pleasure of mine..."

"It IS... interesting..."

"Inez offers a level of visible response that exceeds that of most people; it's no surprise that Jason is taken with her," Armand observed.

Consuelo was a good deal less severe with Inez as they returned to the kitchen. "They're playing with you," she observed. "I thought that I might be held responsible for your reactions, but I see now that my Master and yours are using Miss Nora to taunt and debase you. You realize that, don't you?" Consuelo's eyes laughed.

"Yes. What do I do?"

"You serve, and you suffer. That's what you do. This is your lot in life." Consuelo couldn't help her grin. "Maybe you can contrive to enjoy it..."

Velma was finishing grilling the blackened swordfish, and began arranging the presentation decorations on the plates. "Yo' gonna have to suck it up, Honey... They gonna play wit' yo' as long as it's fun. An' yo' want it to BE fun -- yo' don' wanna piss 'em off..."

Inez sighed and began to assist Velma. "I guess. But they embarrass me so..."

"And they enjoy watching you squirm, no end!" Consuelo observed, grinning.

Velma moved to the grill, and Inez passed plates as she speared the swordfish steaks and placed them into the pre-arranged presentations. "Here ya go, Honey. Salad don't last long. Bes' git goin'!" Inez collected the tray and moved out, Consuelo moving to precede her.

"So, this is what you do?" Nora asked.

"Well, for recreation, perhaps, when I'm not doing other things..."

Consuelo and Inez arrived and began making their rounds, retrieving the salad plates and delivering the main course. Nora watched the pair serve her father, and a glint came to her eye. Consuelo collected her salad plate and Inez bent to place the swordfish -- and Nora very deliberately raised her left hand and palmed Inez's heavy right breast, squeezing gently. Inez froze and her eyes popped as they swept from her master to Armand and the girl. "M-Miss?"

Nora smiled gently and released the breast. "Gotcha..."

"Ooooohhhh!" Inez backpedaled and rushed around the table to curtsey before her master perfunctorily, then almost ran from the room.

She'd barely hit the door when Armand's booming chuckle began echoing in the dining room. Nora smiled widely and murmured, "Like that?" Armand could only nod, unable to speak, and even Jason showed his teeth, which Nora found a bit scary. Nora picked up her wineglass, and daring her father with her eyes, took a sip. Armand regarded Jason with a raised eyebrow, and turned his attention to his swordfish, shaking his head.

They ate in silence for a bit, then Nora resumed her questioning. "Doctor Beckman says you're hard on women..."

"Ah, yes, the good doctor. I can't decide whether he injured me or did me a service." Armand chewed reflectively. "I attract a lot of carrion, scavengers. Your mother would probably call them 'gold diggers'. They are like remoras, that pick clean a shark's teeth, or jackals, clearing the leavings from a lion's kill. I attract women who want the cachet of being Mrs. Armand Wilson, and who will do whatever they deem necessary to accomplish that goal." He took another bite of swordfish. "Well, I am not tolerant of scavengers; either you are in my pride, and follow my lead to accomplish my goals, or you are prey."

Armand sipped his wine. "I toy with scavengers, for my amusement. I allow them to approach and sniff the spoils, and then I exact a price for their participation. As they commit themselves, I demand more and more from them, until one morning they awaken to the fact that they have no self- respect, or I eat them -- figuratively, of course."

"Is this physical?" Nora asked.

"Some of it is," Armand agreed, "But much of it is mental and psychological warfare. I drive them to debase themselves to the point that they either sicken from the realization of just how low they have fallen, or they totally break and begin to thrive on abuse. In either case, I'm done with them at that point, because they either leave or they cease to resist effectively, making the kill a bore. Yes, I abuse them, physically and mentally, but I seldom hold them against their will, except in the midst of a scene; when the greedy little pigs come back for more, that's their OWN choice -- I merely crank things up a couple of notches and watch them overcome their unwillingness, their disgust, their horror, grasping for the phantom prize at the end of the road."

"What do you do?"

Armand shrugged. "First, I shock them. I outrage their sensibilities. I warn them that there are depths to be plumbed, and only the strong survive. I know you've seen the videos, so you are aware that your mother is regularly used as an object lesson to bring home the point that the waters run deep, and there is a riptide. Some of them get smart at that point, but not many. Then I make demands. First comes humiliation, then abuse, then various combinations. Eventually, they wake up and look at the pig in the mirror and realize that I've already dined on their self- respect." He sipped his wine. "Some snap; they come to enjoy the pain and the humiliation. Believe it or not, they're profitable; usually, they can be sold, happily, to the highest bidder at auction -- a pimp, or a collector."

Nora shuddered. "And my mother?"

Armand leaned forward, serious. "Your mother is a special case. Certainly, I prey upon her, on a regular basis -- but she is a helpmeet, too. She is not and never was a scavenger; although I bind her to me with bonds of financial welfare, there are other ties, and she participates actively in furthering several of my projects -- among them, YOU!"

"Me?"

"You. I watch you and your mother VERY closely; little happens in your lives that I'm not instantly apprised of. I have chosen to stay in the background in order to allow you some semblance of a normal childhood. Think about it; even the little peccadilloes that have occurred tonight at this table would be potentially damaging to your mental and psychological health at say, eight -- perhaps even ten or twelve. These things -- worse -- happen in this house all the time; it's just not a good environment for child raising. So I left you in your mother's care and provided you both a limited income -- almost enough and not too much -- so that you would absorb the tenets of current morality and learn the value of money. Would you be surprised to learn that I spend more money on the surveillance team that watches over you and your mother than I give her to feed and clothe you?"

Nora was -- in fact, she was shocked! "Really?"

"Oh, yes. How much do you think it might cost to have you covered so deeply that despite the spur of the moment nature of the act and the uncontrolled location, I have video footage of your defloration?"

"You have WHAT?"

"You heard me. Want a copy?"

Nora gaped. This was... just... incredible! "Daddy, that's AWFUL! You're a voyeur!"

Armand took another sip of wine, and smiled wryly, "I guess I am..."

Nora thought back to the previous Saturday night. Gawd, she'd been a total slut, begging for it! And Daddy said he knew she'd seen the videos -- undoubtedly, he'd seen what she and Nate did while viewing them... It just got more and more embarrassing...

Armand nodded. "You showed quite a bit of your mother's buried sensuality that night. Off and on, though, a bit of me pops up..."

Nora covered her face. "How much..."

"How much do I know? I haven't read your diary, but I've watched you write it. I know when you changed bra sizes, and I know when you stuffed the cups because you couldn't fill them yet."

Nora's face froze in awful suspicion, but Armand shook his head. "My interest is purely parental in nature. Sex is something I leave to young Mr. Adams."

Relief flooded Nora's features, then they darkened again. "About Nate, Daddy -- or about Nate's mother, actually..."

"That the boy has risen above his mother's sad state says impressive things about him," Armand rumbled. "Oh, yes, I know what she is, and what she does -- and I know that young Nate has taken her negative example and learned from it."

"I have trouble believing that his race is not an issue with you..." Nora began.

"Is it an issue with YOU? We've spoken of this. I WILL NOT interfere unless he treats you poorly; if it results in little brown grandkids, so be it. If you date him because you are fond of him, that's fine; if you date him to spite me, you're wasting your time." He sat back and picked up his wine, chuckling, "Hell, I don't care if you're just using him for sex!" He took a sip. "You appear to be serious; so does Nate. If that is the case, I approve -- you could have done MUCH worse." He paused, then: "Are you aware of how I came into wealth?"

"Uh, I think so," Nora replied. "Your uncle?"

Armand nodded. "My uncle bequeathed his estate to me, despite the fact that he had two sons. Those sons -- my cousins -- were jackals; Uncle Nathan recognized that if he left his fortune to them, all that he had built would be lost before the birth of the next generation, most likely, let alone any possibility of there being anything left upon their attaining their majority. My cousins were lazy and spineless, and money poured through their hands, so my uncle left them each a small trust, and the majority of his fortune to me, in whom he saw some promise." He smiled grimly, "One of my first tasks was to defend the will against shyster lawyers in their employ, something at which I succeeded. One of the pair managed to weasel a lump-sum payout from the executor, and is currently destitute. The other learned from his brother's mistakes, but we are not friends -- but then, we never were; when we were growing up, they were too busy grasping for the next expensive bauble, provided for free by their doting parents, to bother with the poor relations..."

Armand set down his glass and steepled his fingers. "Whether you choose to believe it or not, THAT is the primary reason that you were not raised in the lap of luxury; I wanted to raise a predator -- or at least a principled sheep -- not a jackal."

To say that Nora was just swallowing this would be to overstate the case. "And now?"

"Now, as far as I am concerned, you are an adult," Armand responded. "You are sexually mature, and near to attaining your majority. You have a sharp mind, and the will to use it. And when I look upon my daughter, I do NOT see a jackal. You may still be prey to such as I, but you have long teeth and sharp claws in your own right; I don't expect to see you pulled down anytime soon." Armand tapped his forefingers together. "Right here at this table, you have displayed considerable skill at adaptation. I'm proud of you." Turning to Jason, he directed, "Ring for dessert."

"What's next?" Nora asked.

Armand picked up his fork and began toying with a carrot flower left upon it. "This is a time of change. Soon, you may spread your wings and fly to other climes, making your own way, and leaving your parents behind -- but for now, I think that you and your mother should return home..."

"Home?" Nora's nervous system took another shock as she realized just what her father was proposing. "Here?"

"Yes."

"Mother, too?"

"Your mother has performed the task set for her; you are as prepared for life as she can make you. Now, it is time for her to return to my house."

"Daddy, I doubt that idea has made her top ten list."

"Nora, your mother doesn't return to me again and again JUST to pay the bills or JUST because I will allow nothing less; we have a relationship -- one that each of us derives benefit from. Your mother has been somewhat neglected for some time, because I dared not stoke her fears too much and spark a reflection in you -- but that time is over."

"According to Mom, daily exposure to you almost drove her insane, Daddy!"

"Well, there is some truth to that, but I was young, and intense, and I had only one toy to play with. I'm older and wiser, now, and have other outlets for my aggression."

"She's free right now. She might not..."

"She is NOT free, and she never has been! You know it, and she knows it! Divorce didn't free her -- nothing can! Do you know why? Because ultimately, she doesn't WANT to be!" Armand declared.

Nora shut up. Daddy was right. Protestations otherwise aside, Nora's gut had been telling her that all along. Further argument was pointless, because she would merely be the Devil's Advocate; she didn't really believe in the position.

Dessert arrived, sherbet and light cookies borne on a tray by a leggy redhead who was totally nude. "This is the Wench. She is the slave we discussed earlier," Armand said. The Wench, serene in her nudity, delivered sherbet to her master and the young woman she recognized from videos as Master's daughter, then knelt to Master's right, rather than withdrawing. Armand turned to her. "You met Sharon today, Wench; what did you think of her?"

"Master? I discovered that my original mission here was a failure before it began; the woman Sharon is Mistress of this house, whether anyone cares to admit it or not."

Armand's jaw dropped. This went FAR beyond anything HE expected! Shaken, he spent a moment gathering his wits, then turned to address his sherbet. "Um, perhaps you're right. I was just telling my daughter something similar..."

Surprise was general. Jason rocked a bit, blinking. Nora sat open mouthed, as much at her father's reaction as the beautiful redhead's bald statement. Only the Wench was serene.