With Mr. Bixby

Mr. Bixby's house was huge and hideous. It was a giant white stone ultra-modern place that looked super flat and blocky, like it thought it could make up for a lack of depth or texture with sheer size and lots of sharp lines. Abby thought it looked like something a kid could make inside one of those block-crafting video games.

She stood on Bixby's front step, reconsidering her decision. Why was she there? Was she really going to take Bixby up on his offer? Of all her choices, why Bixby? He was clearly an immature pest, at best, and a sexist pervert at worst.

But... he had taught PowerStar, Abby's all-time favorite hero. If she really wanted to become a superhero herself, wouldn't this be her best shot? Plus the pay sounded great and she wouldn't have to worry about housing anymore. So on paper it was a good deal. But... it was still Bixby.

Abby shakes her head. No. He couldn't do anything to her. He was a teacher and there were rules. He wouldn't dare do anything that crossed the professional line. She was overthinking things. She had to be strong. She might get ogled, but that would be fine if it meant paving the foundation of her career in superheroics. She was prepared for that.

She knocks on the door, and a few moments later, it swings open.

Abby blinks, surprised to find herself face-to-face with a girl from the year above her. She's even more surprised to find the girl is dressed from head to toe as a maid. And the outfit is... a bit provocative.

The girl, a dark-haired brunette, is wearing black stiletto heels, sheer stockings that climb to her mid thigh, then trail off under a billowy black and white mini skirt, linked with fasteners to an unseen garter belt. Her waist is cinched with a black corset, and her chest is barely contained by a loose thin material that hugs her breasts but offers no support. She has a frilly white collar and headband on as well to complete the look.

"H-hey Abby... come inside..." she says, leading the way in and closing the door behind Abby.

The interior of the house is much like the exterior: extremely, painfully modern, and very very bland. Everything is top of the line, and spotlessly clean.

The maid girl (Abby was pretty sure her name was Denise) led Abby down a few hallways, then up a few flights of stairs, and finally into a small antechamber of sorts. It was a very plain room with a couple of birch wood benches and some shelves that looked like cubbies.

Seriously, a lavish mansion like this and Mr. Bixby couldn't spring for some more comfortable seating for his guests?

The maid did a little bow, blushed, and said, "He'll be out to see you soon," then left.

Abby was just re-thinking her decision to come when the door on the other side of the room opened, and a cloud of steam poured into the room. Abby realized with horror that she was in a kind of changing room outside of a private bath.

Bixby comes out wearing only a small white towel around his waist, dabbing at what hair he had left with another, smaller towel.

Abby immediately recoils and backs up to the very end of the bench. Bixby either barely notices or doesn't care.

"Oh, Abigail. What bring you to my humble abode? Need a date?" He chuckles, "I don't know, an older guy like me? A little out of your league, aren't I?"

Abby scoffs with disgust and rolls her eyes, looking away while Bixby dries himself.

"Ugh, no! I'm for that job/ internship you mentioned literally earlier today? I'll do it. If you're serious about the stipend, I'd be stupid not to. But this doesn't mean we're friends. And don't expect me to be here any time I don't have to be. the free room is just a place to sleep as far as I'm concerned."

There's a smile in Bixby's voice as he says, "Oh Abigail, that's exactly when I want you here most. The room is yours. And don't worry your pretty little head about the job. I don't make my female apprentices do much. Think of this gig as free money. Just a little secretarial work here and there. You should be a natural at that. Do you have any questions before I show you your room?"

Abby fumed at the blatant sexism that seemed to drip from every word this man spoke. But she held in her venom... for now. It was a good gig, overall. And she wouldn't let him do anything to her. Once she started, she planned to draw a firm line in the sand that she wouldn't let him cross without a severe telling-off.

"Yeah... what's up with the maid girl that answered the door? She's in the class above mine, right? Denise, or something?"

Bixby nods. "Mhm. She's the help this semester. I usually get a few girls to help out around the house since I'm busy, well, making the money to afford a place like this. We all have our roles, Abigail. Why? Did you like her outfit? We can get you one, too, if you want."

Abby groans internally. This was going to be a long year. Out loud she says, "Ew. No. Just show me my room." But she kept wondering why a girl like Denise, who seemed perfectly normal, would ever willingly **** herself by wearing something like that. Why work as Bixby's maid when there had to be so many better jobs out there? Then again, Abby was dangerously close to being in the same position herself.

Bixby nods and twirls his finger in a circle indicating for Abby to turn around. She's about to protest and tell him she's not a dog that will follow his commands, but then sees he's about to drop his towel. She spins on a dime and waist while he changes.

Minutes later, Bixby takes Abby all the way to the top floor and shows her the room she'll be staying in for the year. It's... pink. Really, really, really pink. Every wall, the curtains, the bedsheets, the rug. All pink. The bed is a fourposter with pink canopy around the top, and a light pink lace dream net curtains. A pattern of twinkling stars and dreamy butterflies accented the back wall, and dozens of stuffed animals covered the bed, with even more on a nearby dresser.

"This is ridiculous," Abby says. "I'm not sleeping here. This house has to have a dozen rooms at least. I know they aren't all this embarrassing."

Bixby grins. "I'm sorry, but this will have to do. You agreed to stay here if you took the job. Or do you have something else lined up? You should know I've already had Denise call the school to accept this position on your behalf. By school rules, you're only allowed one job at a time. And isn't your rent due soon?"

How could he know that? Abby was livid. "I... I'm not. I'll take any other room but not this one."

"There's always my room. Are you a cuddler? Other than that, all my other rooms are... in use. Those doors will be locked so don't even try to get into them. It's this room or the streets, Abigail. Your choice." He grinned mischievously while Abby's face burned bright red.

Some time later Abby found herself fuming on the bright pink bed, half-buried under stuffed animals.