My life was no longer my own, and that made a strange calm come over me. I had never been very good at decisions. I had never been particularly comfortable with the direction my life was going. Suddenly I was at the mercy of Mr. McIntyre and his friends, and I couldn’t imagine anything more exciting.
If they showered me with affection or initiated me into a cult, it was at least going to be something interesting.
A few days after my trip uptown with Chase, I came home to find a letter waited for me. A square pink envelope with a neatly folded piece of pink paper inside. The few lines of swirly girly script on the paper read:
I would like to invite you to tea. It would behoove us to get to know each other, if you are to perhaps become a part of our little group.
I would also like to formally apologize for my behavior during our first meeting. It is not an excuse, but I was feeling a bit under the weather. I hope we can get off on a better foot.
Tea shall be served promptly at 6 pm, Wednesday. You will find my address below. Please let me know if you can make it, via post.
Miss Gertrude Van Heel”
Trudy. The second of the three ghosts. What would this one teach me?
I sat at my desk and wrote out a response on the long-forgotten station my aunt Clara gave me when I graduated secretarial school. It felt good to write something longhand, something not for work, something personal.
I told her I would be happy to have tea with her, then I sealed the envelope and copied the address onto it, which was on the Upper East Side.
After, I took another page and thought of writing Mr. McIntyre. I wrote “dear” and then crossed it out. What could I say to him? He had already read my deepest thoughts.
The day of tea I brought clothes to work to change into. I wore a robin’s egg blue dress I had gotten for Easter just before I moved out of my parent’s house. In the bathroom, I put my hair back in a ponytail and twirled and curled it so that it was a pretty spring that bounced when I walked.
I got a small box of petits fours from the very fancy bakery near the office. They were pink and baby blue with lacework and pearls made of sugar. They were pretty and delicate, and I hoped Trudy would like them. I hoped she would like me.
The train uptown was full of wealthy commuters going home. I hadn’t been to Germantown except to go to the Metropolitan Museum and I got turned around a few times. I was happy to find a small flower shop that was open, and I picked up a little bouquet, since I remembered it was proper to bring a gift when invited to someone’s house.
There was a handsome doorman in a burgundy suit in the front of her building, who showed me in. The lobby looked like what I imagined the inside of a castle might look like, with chandeliers, huge vases of flowers, marble floors, and even a few statues.
I took a gilded elevator up to the eighth floor and found the door. I straightened my dress and got the flowers out and rang the bell. There was no answer. I checked her letter to make sure I had the right apartment number. I did. I rang again.
Trudy opened the door with the palms of her hands, somehow, her fingers spread apart with cotton wedges and her nails a fresh coat of vivid pink.
“Sorry! I was in the middle of doing my toes.”
She led me into the small apartment which was decorated almost like a doll house. Everything was pink or white with lace and pillows everywhere. There was a shy white cat that peeked out from under the curtains.
She led me through the living room quickly and into her bedroom, which was thick with the smells of perfume and hairspray and nail polish.
The bedroom was filled to the brim with stuff. Records and dresses on the floor; books and magazines on every available surface; tiki mugs, hula hoops, bags of candy, and empty bottles of pop. The bed was a tower of pillows and stuffed animals.
“What kind of music do you like?” Trudy said between pops of bubble gum.
“I don’t really know much about music. Chase took me to see some jazz-”
Trudy rolled her eyes and put on a record. Her face was a mass of freckles, her eyes were vivid green, and her hair was copper and orange. She wore a tight white blouse, poodle skirt, Mary Jane’s and no stockings.
She put on a somewhat scratchy recording of a sweet sort of Hawaiian sounding song.
“I can’t stop listening to this single. Sleepwalk by Santo and Johnny. Do you know it?”
I shook my head, feeling stupid. She shrugged and turned the sound down enough that it was just light background.
Trudy threw herself into a chair that was covered in clothes
“So what’s your story?” She said with a sigh.
What was my story?
“I don’t know. I’m pretty boring. I grew up across the river in New Jersey. I went to Catholic school. Then I went to secretarial school.”
“Do you still have the uniform?” Trudy asked with sudden interest, getting up and putting on a different record.
“Secretarial schools don’t have uniforms,” I laughed.
She rolled her eyes.
“No, the Catholic school uniform,” she said with a huff.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Maybe at my parent’s house. Why?”
Trudy smiled for the first time.
She stood up suddenly and did a little spin to the time of the music, which had sped up quite a bit.
She spun again and then did a little leap and landed on her bed with a flop. There was a huge teddy bear there, and she cuddled with it and sighed loudly.
“Don’t you get it? I like to play like I’m a little girl. That’s my thing,” she explained.
She saw the look of confusion on my face.
“With Jake, your Mr. McIntyre,” she said with a somewhat wicked grin.
“I’m twenty-three, but I like to pretend I’m younger and that he-” she giggled a little.
“We like to pretend that he is my daddy. My dirty daddy. He tells me what to do, and I do it. Sometimes that means to clean my room or be nice to some girl I don’t even know,” she said with a little flicker of cruelty in her eyes.
“Sometimes it means being a good girl and letting him tuck me into bed at night,” she said, closing her eyes and swooning a little.
I thought about that for a while. I guessed it made a sort of sense. I guess I sort of knew that was a thing that happened. I wondered what that meant. I wondered if Mr. McIntyre wanted me to act like that too. Then I remembered Marcy and Chase. It was all very confusing.
“Does he, pay for your apartment and stuff?” I asked weakly.
She rolled her eyes again.
“No, don’t be stupid. I have a job. I play the viola in an orchestra. Plus, well, I’m rich. My father pays for this apartment. My daddy takes care of me in other ways,” she said, falling back on the bed again and hugging the teddy bear.
It was sweet, in a weird way. Also unsettling. The complexities of it all made me tired.
“So you are his-” I considered precisely what to call it.
“You are his little girl. Marcy is his sort of bondage mistress. Chase is his-um, his homosexual sex friend, I guess? I don’t know. What would I be?” I asked, feeling like it was a mistake the minute the words came out of my mouth.
Trudy looked at me with the oddest look. There was this slow building and then she burst out laughing.
“Homosexual sex friend! Oh my god. That’s amazing. His homosexual sex friend! I have to tell Chase that one. He’ll love it!” she said, rolling on the bed laughing.
I didn’t know if she was making fun of me or just finding something funny, but it was hard to feel bad in her bright room. I let myself laugh too.
After a few minutes, Trudy let the teddy bear go and looked at me with very grown-up eyes.
“You two will figure out what each of you will be. If you ask me though, and you did, I think you’ll be the one who will do whatever he says. The one that doesn’t ask him questions or be a brat or fight back. You’ll be his loyal girl Friday,” she explained plainly.
Then I was smiling. I was smiling in such a natural way, like I didn’t even realize my mouth was doing it until it almost hurt I was smiling so wide. I was smiling, and my cheeks were burning, and I felt like I won the lottery.
Trudy laughed and then, without warning, slapped me with a big pink pillow.
“Oh brother, you got it bad. I think you just might work out,” she said, getting up and shaking her head as she walked out of the bedroom.
“Come on, it’s time for tea,” she said, from the hall.
In the living room, she set up tea on the table in front of her couch.
“Shall I be mother?” She asked, and I’m sure I looked like a frog as I stared back blankly.
“That’s what they say in England. When someone is asking if they should serve the tea,” she said, with an eye roll.
I nodded, feeling like an idiot.
“Do you know the difference between real life and make-believe?” Trudy said as she served the tea.
“Yes,” I said with hesitation unsure if her questions were a trick to make me look stupid.
“Do you ever read scary books or see scary movies?”
“I like scary movies,” I said, still self-conscious.
“Me too, sometimes. It’s like you can watch something horrible and you don’t want it to actually happen, but it is exciting to think about. Like, you know, murder and stuff,” she said, offering me a sugar cube.
I nodded, and she gave me one little white cube and then another. I nodded when presented milk and she poured a bit, and I watched it swirl in the rose-colored tea.
“Well, I play with Jake like that. We play make-believe,” Trudy said, sipping her tea.
The table was laid out with the beautiful tea set, a pretty jadeite cake tray covered in madeleines and macarons, all in pastel colors, plus the petit fours I brought.
I picked up the first sweet I saw and popped it in my mouth. I was glad to be talking to Trudy, delighted to start understanding all the secrets of Mr. McIntyre’s life, but it was just so much to take it. I ate as a respite and Trudy seemed to do the same.
She watched me though, as our fingers grew sticky with sugar. With her red hair and green eyes, she reminded me of a prettier version of my roommate, Eloise. It felt awful to be talking about such dirty things with her, but then it felt delicious to be doing bad things.
I remembered my date with Chase. Realizing more and more that it was a date and something that Mr. McIntyre had some hand in setting up.
How far would things go with Trudy? Thinking about another girl sexually made me squirm in such a different way than thinking about Mr. McIntyre or any man. At its root, it was just so much more confusing, but somehow easier to process. It was simple. Girls were pretty. It was easy to think about kissing one. Like Marcy.
My head was a jumble of thoughts, and my face was getting flushed again. Trudy was watching me with a smirk.
“Well, I guess the question now is what kind of make-believe are we going to play?” she asked with a wide wolfish grin.
I racked my brain, trying to think of something that might be interesting for her. I didn’t really know what kinds of dirty game she liked, except for the ones she told me about Mr. McIntyre.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I could pretend to be, like, your mommy,” I said, immediately regretting it and feeling my face heat with embarrassment.
Trudy let out a whooping laugh.
“Mommy? Oh my, but that would be a stretch. I agree, that definitely isn’t what you are. In fact, I think you would like to play a little younger than you are. Maybe not as young as me. Maybe something like a cool aunt. Only a little older than me?” She considered, standing up and brushing crumbs off her dress.
She held out her hand, and I stood up and took it. She led me back to her little bedroom, and we walked around the room a bit, looking at her various dolls and stuffed animals and toys.
I tried to get all the stupid worry out of my head. She was a lovely girl, and she was explaining so much to me. She was working hard to include me in her games, and that was more than I ever imagined would happen.
I picked up a stuffed rabbit and held it close to my chest, closing my eyes and imagining. Who could I be? What kind of games would I play with little Trudy?
“Maybe I’m not much older. Maybe I’m almost the same as you. I don’t know. I feel like even if you are younger, you know so much more than me. Maybe I’m just your innocent sister?” I said, wondering out loud.
She bit her bottom lip and watched me.
“I-” she started and then thought about her words very carefully.
“Now, I’m going to say things, and I don’t mean them about you, I mean them about this person you are pretending to be,” she clarified.
“I mean, maybe you are my slightly older sister who is a little, well, dumb,” she said, watching me carefully to see my reaction.
“You’re dumb dumb sister?” I said with a laugh.
Something very strange happened. I knew I was a smart girl. Maybe to my detriment, though I never thought I was as pretty or as outgoing as other girls, I always felt like I was a little smarter. Playing dumb made something warm swirl in my belly.
She was watching me with bright eyes.
“Dumb dumb,” she said softly.
“Just your dumb dumb sister, you push around? You, tell to do things. I’m very sweet and nice to you. But you-” I started, but she picked it up, walking over to me.
“I take advantage,” she said, pulling the bunny from
“My bunny,” she said with a mean cut of her eyes.
“Oh, right, sorry,” I said, feeling myself drift away into some new character.
She walked up to me and holding the bunny in one hand she pushed me a little with the other.
“You don’t touch my toys,” she said in a bossy little girl voice.
“Sorry, Trudy,” I mumbled.
And just like that, in that moment, something clicked. I was still me, but something changed. I let something change. I let something go and felt myself grow small and wide-eyed and even a little stupid. God, why did it feel so good to suddenly be stupid? Maybe because all I did was think and think and talk myself out of any fun.
I looked at Trudy, and I felt myself smile a big dumb smile, and it felt like some weight was lifted off my shoulders.
“I shouldn’t even let you in my room, dumb Abby,” she said with a little snarl.
Who knew someone could play so little and so mean at the same time?
“Sorry, Trudy,” I said again.
“Sorry, Trudy,” she mocked.
She rolled her eyes and skipped over to her big pink bed. It was covered in frilly pillows and stuffed animals. She sat down cross-legged and put her bunny in her lap.
“Come and sit with me!” she commanded, and I jumped to it.
“If you are going to hang out in my room you better at least be entertaining.”
I squirmed under her gaze.
“Ok,” I said, looking down at the bedspread, unsure of what I was supposed to do.
“So, be entertaining. Tell me a story,” she said, picking up another stuffed animal and petting it.
I fumbled for something, some old story, a joke, but my mind went blank. I just sat there with my mouth half open watching her grow more disappointed.
“God, Abigail, you are useless,” she said, dropping both of her toys and sitting up on her knees.
“Can’t you do anything entertaining?” she demanded.
I wracked my brain, and nothing came out. What did I do when I was a kid? What did kids want to do with me? I remembered being in a basement with a boy once, alone, and he had the same expectant look.
“Um, we could, um, like, play doctor-” I mumbled.
A smile crept onto Trudy’s face, and her eyes darkened.
“Doctor?” she said to herself.
“Hm, that’s an interesting idea. I’m the doctor though. You’re the patient,” she commanded.
“Right, of course,” I giggled.
How could I be the doctor? I was a dumb dumb. The two words made my brain all bubbly. Dumb dumb.
Trudy crawled across the mattress towards me, and I giggled again. It felt very liberating to laugh. She pushed me down on the bed, and the sudden intimacy of our bodies being pressed together made me quiet.
“You stay still, I’m going to examine you,” she said in a faux-serious voice.
“Oh, yes doctor.”
I realized we were pretending to be other people who were then pretending to be other people. It all made my head spin. The more it spun, the more I clung to my new little mantra, “dumb dumb.” Dumb dumbs didn’t think, they just did what they were told.
She pushed me down on the bed and looked me over.
“I’m going to check your heart first. Then I’m going to test all of your reflexes and reactions,” she said in her bossy little girl voice.
“Okay, Trudy,” I said with a smile, staying still.
She unbuttoned the top of my dress, which had buttons all down the front. I was nervous but excited to see what was going to happen. She opened my dress down to my navel and made me slip my arms out of it.
I wore a plain white bra. I couldn’t have imagined I would have taken my close off at tea. She fingered the lacy edge of one of the cups and then said, “you have to take this off, it’s in the way of my examination.”
There was a weighted pause then. I shrugged. Dumb dumbs don’t ask why. I sat up and slipped off the top of my dress and took off my bra, and then I laid back down.
She had a giddy grin as I did.
It felt comfortable in her bed, with no top, though she was all clothed. I felt like I was being entertaining. It made me feel useful.
She leaned down and put her ear against my bare chest, right in between my breasts, and she listened.
“I can really hear your heart,” she said with a smile.
“It’s beating fast. You must be nervous,” she said, looking me in the eye for a moment.
She moved to different parts of my chest, listening and making little satisfied noises.
“Doctor’s examination log,” she said out loud.
“The subject has very pink nipples. Pinker than mine. Larger areolas, which are very puffy,” she said, her fingers closing in on one.
I laid very still, wondering what was going to happen next. She traced my skin with her finger very slowly, making a circle around my nipple, but never touching it.
“As I observe her, her nipples are getting harder and harder,” she said with authentic curiosity in her voice.
“Now I will test their sensitivity,” she said, slowly closing two fingers around my right nipple and rubbing it very softly.
I let out a little whimper, though I didn’t mean to.
Her fingers closed around my nipple a little tighter. It felt wonderful. I didn’t remember them being so sensitive, but the slow build up and all the emotions of the day made me primed for something.
In a moment her slender fingers were closing tighter and tighter, which was first like a warm pressure, then a hot little pain.
She smiled as I winced.
“Very interesting indeed,” she repeated.
She pinched even harder and twisted, and my head swam. The pain was light a little bolt of electricity, but then there was an itching insistent pleasure that crawled up my spine alongside the pain.
“The subject has a high pain tolerance, but seems to be very sensitive as well. I will now try different sensations and record the reaction.”
I watched as she moved closer and without looking up at me, she popped my nipple right into her mouth!
It was warm and wet and soft, such a contrast from the cruel pinching of her fingers. She sucked gently and swirled her tongue around, and it felt heavenly. I let out a long low groan and then sort of shuddered.
She sat up and looked down at me with a mocking smile. I felt embarrassed at how much I was enjoying it, but I let myself fall back into my role. I didn’t have to overthink it. I could just be her dumb dumb sister. It was just a game of doctor. I gave her a silly smile.
“Gee, Trudy, I sure like this game. What do I do next?” I asked sweetly.
I saw her face flush with power. I liked that. It was like I was handing my brain over to her to play with.
“A lot more examinations. You are a fascinating subject. I think I need you to get undressed,” she said, climbing back off the bed.
She didn’t move to take off her own clothes, I noticed. In fact, she straightened her dress and turned to me.
“I’m going to get us some water. I think this will be thirsty work,” she said with a faux-serious nod of her head.
When she left the room, I wondered if I was supposed to use that time to disrobe. I felt anxious and excited and self-conscious. What if she was kidding? She obviously wasn’t kidding. She was sucking on my tit.
I jumped out of bed as I heard the water running.
It felt crazy as I slipped off my shoes. Fooling around with Chase was one thing, but taking off all my clothes? I unsnapped my stockings and took them off, then my garter belt. Marcy had seen me naked of course. I pulled off my already open dress. I heard the water stop. I took a deep breath and pulled off my panties and then jumped back in bed. Not knowing what else to do and feeling ridiculous, I pulled a large stuffed rabbit on top of my lap to cover myself at least a little.
She came in with a tray that held a pitcher of water and two glasses full of ice. She looked at me and let out a laugh.
“Oh, it looks like you and Mister Floppy are getting acquainted,” Trudy said with a wicked little grin.
I tried to bury myself in the bed.
She walked over and put her cool hand on my burning forehead.
“You just need to relax and remember that I’m a doctor and you are just a dumb dumb.”
I closed my eyes and tried hard to remember that. I tried to fall back into that simple, comforting place of emptiness. As I went back to that silly giggling place, I felt Trudy pulling at my rabbit of modesty. I held on for a second and then let go. I remembered what she said about touching her toys. I hoped she wouldn’t get mad.
“Now, let’s have a look at you. Hm, very interesting. There is a blush running from your face down to your chest,” she said, putting a finger on my cheek and then letting it slip down to my neck and finally to my chest, just between my breasts.
“Hm, and big sister really grew some big ones, hasn’t she?” she said, suddenly taking both of my breasts in her hands and squeezing them.
I didn’t know what to do. I gasped and then giggled.
“Mm, they sure do feel nice. Good thing a dumb dumb sister is good for something,” she said, climbing back on the bed and mashing and groping my breasts more.
Suddenly she moved and grabbed one of my legs pulling them open.
“Oh, my. I think someone likes being examined,” she said in a slightly lower voice.
I grabbed the rabbit and covered my face.
I felt her eyes on me, her fingers on my thighs. All three of his minions had touched me. Like some mastermind in a James Bond movie, I had tangled with all of his henchmen.
I wonder if he sat in his big leather chair at his house and listened to them describe my pussy. Oh god, the thought made me delirious with shame and desire.
“I like the hair, it’s very soft and such a pretty light brown,” she said wistfully, her fingers lightly running through the triangle of hair between my legs.
I peeked at her from behind my protective rabbit.
“Daddy says little girls aren’t supposed to have hair between their legs,” she said with some very new look in her eyes.
She seemed amused and something else, her eyes looked a little glazed. I remembered the girls at the bar Chase took me too. The girls in the sex room, how they seemed dreamy and wild as they touched each other.
She moved around, sitting with her legs spread next to me.
“I have to make sure to keep it smooth, because I want to be a little girl for him forever,” she said in a whisper, her voice becoming smaller.
She pulled her skirt up her somewhat skinny tanned legs, past her long socks, to her knees, to her thighs.
“Do you wanna see, sissy?” she asked sweetly.
I nodded vigorously before I could even stop myself.
She pulled up her skirt a few more inches, and I saw it, shaved smooth, a chubby slit of pale skin. Her legs were tan, and the triangle between them was far paler. Between the tan line and the hairlessness, she somehow looked infinitely more naked.
She parted her legs more for me. Without the hair, every pink secret was exposed. It was beautiful, all coral and bubble gum colored, with somewhat fat outer lips and inner lips that were curved like some delicate seashell.
I turned, slithered around on the bed. I had to get a closer look. She smiled at that, moving too.
“Big dumb dumb sister wants to be the doctor now?” she said mockingly, but moving to give me room.
We ended up with her sitting up at the foot of the bed, legs spread and me laying on my stomach with my head in between her legs, inches away from her bare pussy.
I watched as she moved on hand down and let her fingers spread her lips for me, showing me more pink. I could see the hole, and my breath caught.
She didn’t look like a little girl. She looked wonderfully obscene. I felt drawn to her even more than my attraction to the women I watched with Chase. I felt like I had to concentrate to hold myself back. I wanted more. I could smell her. It was like the way I smelled when I was alone in bed touching myself. The sex smell. It was driving me a little crazy.
“If you want to be a doctor you have to do a full examination, dumb dumb. You have to touch it. Do you want to touch it?” She asked in her bossy, mean sister voice.
I nodded dumbly. I was just a dumb dumb after all.
I reached out, first resting my hand on her thigh. I was trembling a little. She leaned back on her arms, head back, her legs fully open for me.
My fingers moved forward on her cool thigh, and I felt her skin get warmer and warmer the closer I got to that intersection between her legs.
Just before my fingers touched the puffy lips of her pussy, she reached down and stopped me.
I was in shock, mortified until I heard what she said.
“You shouldn’t touch it with dry fingers. It feels weird. You have to lick them first,” she said, taking my hand in hers and bringing it to her mouth.
She stuck out her tongue and licked my middle and pointer finger, then she slipped them into her hot mouth and sucked on them. She pulled them out of her mouth and smiled.
“Now you,” she said, pushing my hand towards my mouth.
I sucked my own finger. It was like a kiss. I tasted tea and sugar. I wanted to do all kinds of things to her, but I wasn’t sure exactly what.
She laid back, opening her legs and planting her feet on the bed, knees bent. I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t wait anymore. I moved forward and slipped my wet fingers against her wet pussy. The bare lips were already slick. It felt hot and made my insides clench and ache with need.
She let out a few little high whines, like a little bird. I tried to remember how I touched myself, how Chase had touched me, but I couldn’t slow myself down. I pushed my finger inside of her. I had to feel it.
Fuck, she was tight. How could she be so tight when I knew Mr. McIntyre fucked her with that big thick cock of his. Oh god, remembering it sparked some new thrill inside of me. I was fingering little Trudy, fingering the pussy her Daddy fucked. The dirtiness and forbiddenness seemed to light my mind on fire.
I slipped my middle finger into her and circled that little spot above her hole with my thumb. Oh, that particular little spot I had rubbed so many times thinking about dirty things.
She didn’t seem prepared for all I was doing. She moaned and whined and squirmed, and it felt amazing, like a hit a home run in softball. Oh god, that was stupid. I was stupid. I started to giggle as she thrust her hips, taking my finger.
Dumb dumb sissy was doing it. I was making her come. I felt it coming on. She was rocking her hips faster and faster. I fucked her with my finger. Faster. Harder.
Then, suddenly she sat up an grabbed my wrist.
“No!” she shouted.
I sat back, horrified. What had I done wrong?
She sat there, with her hands between her legs.
“It’s okay,” she said, panting.
“You didn’t do anything wrong!” she tried to assure me.
“It’s just, I’m, uh, I’m not allowed. I’m not allowed to come. Daddy says. We have rules. We have rules, and I’m not allowed to come unless he says so. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Her voice seemed different, like she was back to her adult self. She was trying to slow down her breathing. Then she laughed.
“You, uh, you did really good. You’re good at pretend. Wow. It usually takes me a while to come like that, but there was all this tension and your fingers, and I was feeling so dirty, pushing around my big sister.
I fell back on the pillow and sighed in relief. I didn’t fully understand what she meant by rules, but I think it meant I didn’t really do anything wrong. I felt like I had ran a little marathon.
I took one long breath and let it out slowly. Trudy got up and laid next to me. She hugged me, and I was once again aware of how naked I was and how clothed she was.
“That was fun. You’re fun,” she said and kissed me on the cheek.
I sort of broke. I just laughed and shook my head. What was my life? It was all crazy.
“Let’s clean up and eat the rest of the little cakes,” she said popping up and hitting me with a pillow.
I closed my eyes and let her hit me again. Dumb dumb dumb. It felt good to get hit with pillows by pretty girls. She left me in bed, and I contemplated that before I got up to get dressed and eat little cakes.