Strings Attached

Lareina’s penthouse apartment was spacious, with plenty of space between her expensive furniture to show off the white marble floor. Everywhere, it was a manicured selection of delicate sensibilities carefully curated to offer an air of class and poise. Everywhere, except her workbench. That corner of her loft was the one place where concessions were made to function over form. It wasn’t cluttered; far from it, it was very carefully organized. Dozens of different tools, from pliers to screwdrivers, were carefully hung up over the workspace. Various devices and substances for the treatment and working of metals were kept in cubbies within an arm’s reach.

At the moment, Lareina sat on her stool, hunched over a ring she had been working on. The band was made of gold, and she was hard at work attaching an intricate web of delicate silver strands to the top. When it was done, each filament would be tipped with a tiny diamond. She had had the idea for some time now, but only recently decided to tackle the challenge. It was a technically daunting piece to produce, but it was, she felt, worth it.

Her hands moved with precision as she carefully soldered the silver into place. It was critical to the overall appearance of the piece that none of her solder work showed. It needed to look like the silver had been spun, not hacked together, so she took her time. It was exhausting to stay focused on such minute details for so long, but Lareina found satisfaction in the execution. Nothing brought her more joy than seeing one of her creations fully formed in the real world, a perfect representation of an idea in her head.

She was halfway done when her hands started to cramp. Reluctantly, she set down the soldering iron and stepped away from the workbench. She wanted to keep going, but she knew if she didn’t give herself a break, she was liable to make a mistake. And Lareina's jewelry didn’t have mistakes.

She made her way to the kitchen and opened up her fridge, choosing some orange juice and a handful of strawberries for a light lunch. She took the time to log her calories before she ate. She wasn’t on a diet, but she watched her weight carefully.

When she returned the carton to its place in the fridge, she took stock of her groceries. She had enough for dinner, but she would need more for the next day. She took out her phone and started adding some groceries to her cart. She was thinking she'd make a spaghetti dish, with fresh asparagus and a white wine sauce. Satisfied with her selection, she hit order. The loading icon spun and spun, but when it was done, her purchase didn’t go through. She tried again, but got the same result. Reading the page more carefully, she saw in red text, ‘Payment Declined: Please try another payment method.’

Lareina frowned. That couldn’t be right. She pulled open her banking app and checked the card. It was maxed out. That wasn’t right at all. She should have had thousands of dollars of headroom on it. She pulled open her contacts and scrolled to her father. He’d sort it out.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said in a chipper voice once he picked up, slipping into Spanish.

“Hello, princess,” he replied. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“There’s something wrong with the credit card,” she told him, phone pressed to her ear as she spun the card around for her inspection.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The bank is saying it's maxed out.”

“Oh,” her father said. “I’m sorry, sweety. That’s my fault. I asked them to reduce the cap, but I didn’t know you were so close to the new credit limit.”

“What do you mean you asked them to reduce it?” Lareina asked.

“Well, I figured since you’re coming home soon that you wouldn’t have any big expenses left.”

Lareina swallowed her anger and kept her voice composed. “I need it for groceries, Daddy.”

“Of course,” he said. “I didn’t mean to leave you high and dry. I’ll pay it down by a thousand.”

That would barely get her through the next week or two, let alone the two months she had left on her visa. “Do you think you could ask them to put it back at the old limit?”

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “It doesn’t work that way. Credit expansions take paperwork and time.”

“Could we at least get it started?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” her father said. “When you get home, I’ll just close up that account and get you a new one. It’ll be much simpler that way.”

“It seems like that’d be more work than just using the one we already have.” It took a great deal of self-control to keep the edge out of her voice.

“Trust me,” he said. “This is for the best. In the meantime, I’ll pay the thousand dollars to tide you over until you’re home.”

Lareina swallowed bitterly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Of course. While I have you, your mother had dinner with Elaine Maduro last night, and she said that Francisco is very excited to see you again. Apparently, it's all he has spoken about for days.”

“That’s…nice to hear,” Lareina said carefully.

“It would be good to be able to tell him when to expect you,” her father prodded none too subtly.

“I’ve told you already, I don’t have any concrete plans yet.”

“It isn’t nice to string him along, Lareina.”

He was the one stringing the Maduros along, she wanted to scream. It had been his idea from the get-go. She’d never promised anything.

“I don’t mean to,” she explained gingerly. “There’s just a lot up in the air right now. I’ll be sure to let you and mother know as soon as I firm up my arrangements.”

“Be sure that you do,” her father said in a warm but firm tone.

“I will, but I’d better get going. I have something on the stove.” The excuse came easily. She needed to get off the call. Her composure wouldn’t last forever.

“Ok, I don’t want to keep you. I love you, princess.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

Lareina hung up the phone and slammed her fist down onto the stone counter, wincing at the pain. Her father knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to strangle her slowly until she finally caved and did what he wanted. It was exactly his modus operandi. Fortunately, she still had the money that was meant to be her security deposit on her jewelry exhibit, and it was a not-insubstantial sum. If things got too tight, she could always dip into that.

With her mood ruined, she couldn’t go back to working on her jewelry, so instead she went to her living room and plopped down on her white leather couch. She flipped on the TV and chose a show about flipping houses in Malibu, letting the inane, overproduced drivel dull the edge of her anger.

Her phone vibrated, and Lareina thumbed it open, seeing that it was one of her clients. Not just any client either. That broke freak with the blood fetish. Aiden or something, she thought his name was. She had him in her phone as ‘Creep (Blood)’. He wanted another appointment on Friday.

“Not a chance in hell,” she mumbled. But her conversation with her father loomed in her mind. There was a chance she might end up strapped for cash pretty badly. Probably best not to close the door forever. “Sorry, all booked up. Maybe another time,” she typed. She put an emoji of kissing lips at the end to keep him hooked. **** men ate that shit up.

Lareina tossed her phone aside, the issue already out of her mind, and went back to watching as a too-cheery developer gushed about the new open concept kitchen he was building. The phone rang again, and Lareina rolled her eyes. If this guy was trying to sext with her, she was going to have to be a little firmer.

She read the text and her eyes bulged. Who the hell did he think he was, talking to her like that? She was torn between leaving him on read and calling him up to tear him a new asshole. He was the gross loser who had to pay for sex; she was the one calling the shots. What didn’t he understand about that?

“You obey.”

Lareina started, dropping her phone, certain that she’d just heard someone speak. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for a hidden intruder, but she found no one. Her pulse was running quick, but she told herself it was just her mind playing tricks on her. It had probably just been the TV.

She picked her phone back up, determined to set her client straight, but she was interrupted again. “He is your master.”

She whipped her head around, eyes wide. That had definitely been a voice, like someone kneeling at her back to whisper in her ear. Behind the couch, though, was just an empty stretch of floor leading to the kitchen, and there was nobody there.

Lareina was starting to become frightened. She desperately wanted to believe that it was all in her head, but she knew that that wasn’t true. She had heard something.

“You will learn your place.”

Lareina jumped up off the couch and whirled around, hands held up in front of her. This time, however, the whispers didn’t recede. Instead, they crashed over her like a wave overtaking a boat. Dozens, if not hundreds, of different voices began to crowd her mind. She frantically searched for their origin, but could find nothing. As they crescendoed, a handful of voices broke from the pack to speak louder and more clearly than the rest.

“With such a nice rack…”

“…it’s a shame you don’t have an ass to match.”

“We’ll fix that for you.”

Lareina’s backside went numb, prickling like static. Her butt started to jiggle. Close to panic, she put a hand on her hip and leaned back, trying to see what was happening to her. She was just in time to watch the contours of her body change.

Her rear hadn’t been small before, but it hadn't been anything to write home about. Her tits had always been her best assets, aside from perhaps her face. No longer. The luscious lobes of her ass cheeks shoved out, extending further from her back and widening to match the hips of her hourglass figure. Her butt was large and shapely both, undeniable in its sensuousness. Her now-too-tight dress hugged her new curves tightly, showcasing the improvements clearly. It was at least a third as large as it had been, and projected prominently behind her.

The whispers slowly faded, and Lareina was left alone once again. The only sounds in her apartment were her heavy breaths and the blathering on the television. As sensation returned to her sculpted ass, Lareina hiked up her dress to check for bruises or signs of damage. There were none. If anything, her skin seemed even more flawless than before.

She swallowed heavily. What the hell had just happened? She worried that she was losing her mind. She poked at her generous rear, but it seemed as real as anything. She needed to see a doctor, or a shrink, or something…but who would believe her? She wasn’t sure she believed it herself.

The terrifying episode had completely distracted her from the conversation she’d meant to be having. Her phone lay forgotten and discarded on the couch, still open to Adrian’s text. Lariena didn’t yet know that she’d be keeping the appointment he’d set. She could no more resist his order than she could the whims of fate itself.