Olivia’s Party
1 — Coming of Age
The sound of kids parties has always been too much for me. So many shrill voices shouting and laughing at once. Of course, this wasn’t a kid’s party. Olivia was now an adult in the eyes of the law, though in her own mind she’d been one for some time. Still, the shrieking of her school friends as they discussed (presumably) their romantic misadventures and the hottest guys on TV, that was enough to make me glad I was in the spare room enjoying a relaxing and moderately good quality glass of scotch with her father. I was responsible, you see, and had volunteered to help keep the kids in line once the rowdier girls had headed home, allowing Mr Norton to head into the office to supervise the night shift.
Olivia, of course, had her own ideas. She had a thing for older men, she said, and seemed pretty sure she knew her own mind. And she had a thing for being controlled and helpless. The first time she’d sent me a message through a certain website, to say she’d recognised my picture, she’d only been 14, and I’d wondered how someone could have explored their preferences so young. Still, we were both in the situation of having an interest that the people in our lives wouldn’t understand. I’d wondered if I should tell her parents; it could be dangerous for a girl with those predilections to go man-hunting online. But then they’d know my secret too, and that would likely mean losing my job. So I’d been her confidant for a few months. And then her lover.
Not in the usual sense of the word. At least, I hope not. I’m not that kind of pervert, though it’s a fine line to walk at times. I gave her advice, how to avoid the predators and stay safe. I advised her to wait before getting too involved with anyone, and I’d like to think that she trusted my guidance, at least in part. I said that if anyone ever came on too strong, or wouldn’t let her change her mind, I’d be the guy who could make them get the message without her parents finding out the kind of people she’d been talking to.
But as she opened her heart to me, I’d found myself falling in love. Caring about her happiness, and wanting to do whatever I could to please her, beyond any kind of rationality. When these feelings first started invading my dreams, I dreaded it. I tried hypnotising myself to put it aside, but sometimes emotions are just too strong to resist. I don’t think I could ever have told her how I was starting to feel, to confess to that would have shattered my self image as the nice guy, I didn’t want to be some kind of deluded Humbert who never saw how much he was hurting the girl he thought he loved. So I was lucky Olivia said it first.
I loved her, but we didn’t have sex. That was one thing I was adamant about; the law must be there for a reason. I did my best to live by the rules, and if she wanted to be my slave, then she’d follow the rules too. I hypnotised her, at her own request. She was helpless to resist my commands. I knew she was nervous about it, but excited too, and I rationalised that it was better for her to be under the control of someone who cared about her well-being, than some of the sick fucks out there online, or even someone her own age who might try to learn the same skills and cause untold emotional damage in his inexperience.
I made her follow the rules, and she loved feeling that she didn’t have the control, though in reality she could have broken the spell any time she had the conviction. She stopped looking for sex, knowing that she would have to wait until her birthday. A nascent smoking habit was nipped in the bud. Her teachers were amazed when she stopped teasing the older boys (who were fun enough to play with, she said, though they didn’t really capture her interest) in favour of actually studying. When she did her homework, she could hallucinate that she was literally chained to her laptop, with a slave driver cracking the whop behind her. That excited her, and her enjoyment made a massive improvement in her performance. I never asked what she did after finishing her homework, because I felt that was still more than I wanted to imagine.
There were other post-hypnotic suggestions too, of course, always discussed beforehand, that would make her unable to resist stripping, kneeling, obeying, and a few other things whenever I said the right trigger word. She loved to fantasise about some day testing them out, and I was happy to see how firmly the suggestions could be anchored in her subconscious until that day came. Of course, today the floodgates had opened, and that day could be as soon as it was convenient.
I’d gone from being a family friend to a kind of mentor figure. Olivia’s parents trusted me, and often asked me to do little favours like picking her up out of school, or helping to tutor her on the Literature homework she found so problematic. Her grades soared, so my respect only grew. Somehow, I don’t think they would have let me come so close if they knew what I was intending to teach their daughter some day. They wouldn’t have even let me into the house.
It was starting to quiet down now, the voices from the lounge muted and I could hear the sound of the TV. Just a few friends staying over, Olivia wasn’t one for wild parties. She was very mature like that. Mr Norton had agreed to a few bottles of wine, too. Some of the guys she knew from school looked old enough to get served, and we’d figured that “We trust you, just be sensible” was going to be more productive that forbidding alcohol and leaving them to get wasted somewhere in secret.
It sounded like they were heeding the advice for moderation. I sat nursing the last of my whisky for a moment, hoping that nothing would go too disastrously wrong before Mick Norton returned, then stood to go downstairs.There was a soft knock on the door, and when I opened it Olivia was standing there. She kept her gaze on the floor, nervous to meet my eyes, and though her hands were at her waist, her white-blonde hair was long enough to twirl one curl around her fingertips.
“Hey,” I offered a reassuring smile, “What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be with the party?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled, eyes now on her own feet. She had eschewed slippers today, a habit that her dad always said was horribly unsanitary, and she wiggled each toe in turn like a nervous employee drumming his fingers, desperate to have anything to focus on other than what she was about to say. Eventually, she gathered her nerves and continued: “You know, you were right about making me wait for sex. I was so sure I was ready for it a couple of years ago, and the boys were all so sure too, but looking back now, I see I didn’t really get why it’s a big deal. You were right, and I’m sorry I was such a pain about it.”
I stepped forward to put my arms around her, a protective hug, and whispered back, “I’m glad you appreciate it. Thank you for trusting me so far.”
“But…” she murmured, and stopped.
“But?”
“But… it was so hard to wait. All the time, it feels like you’ve been teasing, it’s been hard, you know?” Once the dam had burst, the words came out in a torrent, “I met someone a few months ago who said he thought I was ready, but I said no.”
“Who?” she muttered a name, Alex, and I tried to cast my mind over the boys I knew from her social group, but I couldn’t put a face to it.
“I mean,” she continued, “I knew by then you were right that it’s important to be sure I’m ready, and I couldn’t think of betraying you, I love you so much, Jim. But we hung out, you know, and I wasn’t sure if I was falling in love again. Do you know what that’s like, to turn around one day and realise you’re in love with two people, it crept up like you didn’t even notice it until it was too late, and then you can’t bear to disappoint either of them?” I nodded slowly. I could imagine the feeling she described, though I’d never been in the situation myself. I’d played with a lot of minds, and had a lot of friends with benefits, but I’d found that being physically intimate too readily had made love hard to find.
I could see the feelings in her eyes, anyway, not wanting to meet my gaze and with the first trace of tears. She opened her mouth to continue and I just hugged her tighter. “I want to be responsible,” she sobbed, “but whatever I do now, someone gets hurt. I’m so grateful you taught me so much, but… I have to go with Alex. I said that I’d wait until tonight though, while you’ve been patient with me so long, I should at least respect myself enough to…” she couldn’t seem to find the right words, but then swallowed and started again, “I need to be with someone who needs me, I want to be the grownup one sometimes. Alex needs someone who can understand, more than you do at any rate, and it feels so…” It took all my self control not to push her away. The words stung like thorns in my eyes, and I wanted to join her in a flood of tears, but I could see how hard she was taking this already.
“I understand,” and I really did, right there, “It’s okay, Olli, don’t beat yourself up so much. But don’t just think about who needs you, think about what you want out of life, more than anything.”
Olivia nodded, “I love you. But I think maybe…” hesitating again, not wanting to say what was on her mind, “You care too much. About me, about everyone, and I think I need someone who’ll put me down sometimes, not always ask. A little excitement.” I nodded, and understood that too. I’d known that she wanted to have her choice taken away, but it had been easy to become in some ways a protector, a guardian, someone she wouldn’t have cause to fear. Maybe once she was fully adult, and I knew her heart wasn’t fragile, that could change over time. But I wouldn’t argue. She knew what she needed, and I saw it too, and right now I cared too much to give her that. What was it they say? If you really love her, let her go. I got that, or thought I did at least.
“I want you to be happy, more than anything. You’re a wonderful girl, and you deserve a guy who’s not going to be an old man when you’re in your prime. I still love you, and I’ll always be your friend. I really hope I can see how much this Alex makes you smile. I’ll be here if you ever need any help, and I’m so proud of you right now.” It felt like a stream of platitudes, but in that moment they were all true, and meant so much. We were holding each other still, shaking with sobs. It was an ending, but for a new door to open, something else has to be closed off, I guess. I knew that we’d both have incredible lives. I really hoped that whatever happened, we’d stay in touch.
“You really mean all that.” It wasn’t a question. My voice was normally so level, but now we were both wearing hearts on our sleeves. Finally we backed out of each other’s arms, though I’m not sure who moved first. She went over to the window and looked at the late twilight sky. I stood behind her like we had so many times before when we needed to think but didn’t want to be apart. She was smiling through the tears now, perhaps sharing my epiphany that this would be a change rather than an ending.
“I do. I’m proud of you. You’re my student, my friend, my inspiration. I look at how you’ve taken control of your life, and I am amazed. You’re my– no…” I wanted to say ‘muse’, but then I remembered an amusing and animated discussion about sexism in mythology and thought twice. I wanted every compliment today to be positive without any other connotations. But in the heartbeat it took me to think of another word, I heard Olivia gasp in shock, grasping the window sill to support herself. Her face was already flushed from crying, but there was no sadness in her eyes now. Her lips moved, but couldn’t shape words beyond a moan.
Her eyes were wide, catching the evening light like sparkling emerald, and she met my eyes with an intensity of emotion that took my breath away, even as I realised what was wrong and mentally kicked myself, taking one step back from the woman I loved.