Title: Lady Luck
Chapter Two
Thomas looked at his new room. It was a room in the house of Lady Luck. Beige carpet covered the floor from wall to wall. A king sized bed was set up in the centre of the room, defying practicality. The beige-gold sheets trimmed a deep brown comforter. There was no headboard and no footboard, but four plainly carved wooden posts at each corner. The bed was not unlike the one he had been introduced to not so long ago, before he had moved in.
Although the bed was large, there room itself was not made to seem small. The ceilings were high and there was no dresser taking up space, since the room had a very open walk-in closet with shelving. For that matter, it had an attached washroom as well, with a large circular tub, shower stall, with ample floor space between each, the toilet, and the counter. The tiles in the washroom were a neutral light brown colour.
The suburban house, normal looking to the outside, was more remarkable on the inside. Thomas knew that there were secrets to his new home he had not yet delved, did not want to, and was forbidden to. In particular, from the kitchen he could on occasion hear muffled female sounds drifting through the vents. He presumed the sounds came from the basement, where he was not allowed to go.
Turning away from his place in the house, he passed the closed door of Lady Luck on his way down to the living room. She was out tonight. She had left in very formal attire, a grey one-piece dress with plain black trim, beige stockings, and some expensive jewellery.
In the living room he selected a book from several shelves lining the walls. He choose without looking, taking a seat on the velvety brown couch. He looked down. A detective novel.
Lady Luck had stifled his emotions so that he could more easily accept his fate. He looked from the living room to open-concept, hardwood-floored kitchen. The faint echo of a whimper bounced around his head. A memory of some moment in the kitchen, hearing something through the vent perhaps. Or perhaps a fragment of memory from the night he raped the young Starbuck’s employee. He did not know what had happened to her afterward.
He read his book. When it got dark, he pulled the fine chain on the lamp beside him. He sat in his nimbus of dim light reading until the bright white from car headlights played around the lining of curtains and the front door. Lady Luck was home.
From the sounds of laughter outside, she was not alone.
Thomas sat watching the door as it opened, revealing the mildly smiling mistress of the house and a laughing, tipsy woman beside her. The ceiling lights were put on and the door shut.
The tipsy woman wore a black dress and black stockings. The bold black garments set off her orange-red hair. She turned to Lady Luck and said,
“Wait… What are we doing here again?”
“I had told you that I had a paid-for man, a man in enough financial trouble to play my sex slave for a while.”
The red haired woman in the black dress turned her attention to Thomas with an appraising look.
“Is this him?”
“Yes.”
The red hair and the black dress sauntered over to him and put her hands on her hips in a cocky fashion. She leaned forward a little.
“Do you like playing a sex slave?”
“No.”
He was looking up at her mildly then, book still open to his page. She turned around quickly, a happy skip in her step, addressing Lady Luck.
“Well, he shouldn’t have got into such financial trouble then!”
She threw her arms out to her sides to better emphasize how funny she was.
Lady Luck cocked her head to one side and the woman’s arms snapped back down to her sides. She turned around slowly until she was facing Thomas again. She fell to her knees.
“Wait, I don’t want to do this.”
In her tipsy state, it wasn’t clear who she was talking to. Perhaps herself.
Her hands came up to rest on his thighs, her knees walking her forward until she bumped up against his book. She picked it up and placed it to the side, gently moved his hands away, undid the fly of his khakis, and pulled him free. She stroked his stiff penis. Her eyes came free from some delirious mist and she made eye contact with him.
“Please don’t do this to me,” she whispered.
He didn’t do anything, compelled to stillness, but she suddenly swallowed him. Her lips never closed tightly around him, but kept a light touch while she quickly bobbed up and down. She was coming up and down with such speed that her red hair was always flouncing around his lap. Every so often she would break from the athletic use of her neck, employing her tongue around his scrotum and along his shaft. After some time of her cyclic service, his hands came to rest on the back of her head. They lay there, following her movements until she flagged, whereupon he would assist the motion with the strong use of his hands.
Thomas, compelled to watch for most of the endeavour, at some moment near the end looked up to find Lady Luck watching from a seat on the stairs. She seemed to be watching for his reaction. And then red hair softly bouncing off his forearms and the constant application of lips became too much. He could feel her swallowing, because he was in her throat now. His hands released her and she came up looking glassy eyed from exhaustion. A thin sheen of sweat reflected off of her face from the lap light. It unnecessarily added lubrication when she took the last of his orgasm pushing her cheek, forehead, her nose and her neck against him. When she was done she sat back, her hands clasped in her lap, head downcast.
She sat there a long time while he tucked himself away again. After some time, he looked from the woman on her knees in front of him to Lady Luck. She only watched. He sat longer. After he had lost track of time, the mop of red hair in front of him said something.
“I’m sorry I was going to take advantage of you.”
She looked up then, unconvincing hope in her eyes. Silence and time took over once again.Then, in a movement that was clearly not of her doing, she moved to be on all fours and crawled away. He watched her crawl to the winding staircase leading to the basement. As her hand began to take the carpeted steps and her bottom half followed, she said her last words of the evening:
“Please, where am I going?”
I heard her take the stairs slowly. At the bottom I heard a door open. And then close. Thomas took his eyes off the empty staircase leading downstairs and turned to look at the staircase leading up. Lady Luck was no longer there.
Slowly, he turned his attention to the book by his side. He replaced it on the bookshelf and made his way to bed.