Chapter 1 – How Things Were
I’d been sleeping in my car for just over two weeks after leaving my Christian college. I thought I’d done everything right to prepare for a career in childcare, but finding work in LA had proven much harder than I expected. My parents had sent what little money they could spare, but I needed something permanent—and fast. I was nineteen, about to turn twenty, living in my car. Definitely not the life a girl from a small Midwest town had imagined.
I was in the bathroom of a diner, washing myself at the sink and staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror. My green eyes were the only part of me that still seemed alive. My pale skin looked washed out, and my ginger hair had lost its usual bright, fiery shine. Then I noticed a flyer pinned to the wall behind me.
“Nanny needed, full-time. Live-in position. Some domestic duties included. Call our agency to apply.”
It seemed too good to pass up. I called, arranged an interview, completed the usual screening, and was soon invited to discuss the placement.
I would be working for a couple in their mid-thirties: Mr. and Mrs. Foxden. Dean was a music producer; Simone owned a high-end salon. They had a young daughter named Princess and lived just outside LA in an affluent gated community.
I was so nervous as I pulled into their driveway. The house was enormous—pool, tennis court, and a convertible in the garage that looked bigger than the entire house I grew up in.
As I stepped out of my very out-of-place car, a warm voice called from behind me.
“Hey, sweetie, you must be Claire?”
Chapter 2 – Settling In
Simone was even more beautiful than the agency photo suggested. Tall, curvy, with big brown eyes and a radiant smile. Her cherry-red lipstick popped against her flawless dark skin. Dean was huge and muscular, practically bursting out of the tank top he wore.
“Hi… sorry I’m late,” I said, feeling very small.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. Dean, grab her things. Come with me, Claire—I’ll get you some iced tea.”
For the first three weeks everything went smoothly. Dean and Simone were easy to get along with, and Princess was adorable. I fell in love with her from the very first moment.
It was the fourth week when things began to… shift.
It started subtly. A compliment that lingered a little too long. A light touch on my arm that didn’t quite feel accidental. Simone’s smile would sometimes hold a second longer than felt natural. I told myself I was imagining it. I’d grown up sheltered; maybe this was simply how confident, wealthy people behaved.
Then one night, as I lay in bed reading, there was a soft knock at my door.
“Sweetie, can I talk to you?”
“Sure, Mrs. Foxden. It’s open.”
She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and sat gently on the edge of my bed. The air felt heavier somehow.
“Sweetie, we’re having a party on Saturday,” she said carefully. “It’s probably best if you stay out of the way that evening.”
“Okay. I’ll do that. Don’t worry,” I replied.
She studied me for a long moment, as if weighing something unsaid.
“Princess will be at my mom’s,” she added. “So you’ll basically have the weekend to yourself, girl.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the unease curling in my stomach.
What I didn’t know then was that this would be the weekend that changed my life—and me.
Chapter 3 – Party Prep
Saturday morning, after dropping Princess off at her grandmother’s, I pulled back into the driveway and saw Simone waiting for me.
“Sweetie, would you mind helping out today?” she called.
“Sure, Mrs. Foxden,” I replied automatically.
She laughed softly. “Thank you. And call me Simone. You make me sound old.”
The house already felt different—anticipation humming under the surface. I helped with cooking, arranged dishes along the buffet table, strung soft lights around the patio, and wiped down counters until everything gleamed. Simone moved through it all with restless energy, excited in a way that made my nerves tighten.
Later she asked me to help bring down a few boxes from the attic.
“We keep these up here, out of Princess’s reach,” she explained, passing them down carefully.
The boxes were labeled in thick black marker: Essentials, Entertainment, and Décor.
We carried them into the living room. Simone brushed dust from her hands and smiled at me.
“I haven’t had a chance to get my party things out since Princess was born,” she said. There was something almost nostalgic in her voice.
“You sort out the Essentials box, sweetie.”
I knelt on the floor and lifted the lid, expecting napkins, candles, maybe disposable cups.
Instead I found packets of baby wipes. Bottles of baby oil. Hand sanitizer.
And boxes of condoms.
Lots of them.
For a second my brain refused to process what I was seeing. I stared down at the contents, heat rushing to my face.
“I—um—Simone… I think we might have the wrong box,” I managed, my voice barely steady.
Simone didn’t look surprised. She stepped closer, calm and composed.
“It’s the right box, sweetie,” she said gently. “It’s a key party. Nothing huge. Just a few close friends before Dean and I decide whether we’re jumping back in fully.”
A key party.
The words landed heavily. Swingers. That’s what she meant.
My stomach tightened. I couldn’t exactly leave—I had nowhere to go, and I needed this job more than I needed comfort. Besides, they had told me to stay out of the way tonight. I wouldn’t be involved.
I would stay in my room and read.
Everything was going to be fine.
Right?
Chapter 4 – Last-Minute Preparations
I followed Simone’s instructions while she handled the Décor box. Inside were candles, silk throws, mood lighting, and small party poppers. She directed me to place two of each item in every guest room, as well as in the hot tub room—a space that suddenly felt less like part of a family home and more like a stage being set for something else entirely.
The atmosphere in the house had shifted again. Softer lighting. Slower music. Anticipation humming beneath everything.
“Sweetie, let’s do this one together,” Simone said, lifting the lid of the Entertainment box.
There was a playful edge to her smile—she knew exactly how unsettled I felt.
Inside were various items neatly organized in velvet pouches and discreet packaging. Handcuffs. Blindfolds. Devices clearly designed to enhance intimacy. My cheeks burned, but I couldn’t stop looking.
Simone laughed softly. “God, I love this stuff,” she murmured, pulling out a small packet of popping candy.
“Oh—I used to like those when I was younger,” I said automatically, my voice carrying a naïve innocence I instantly regretted.
She paused and gave me a slow side glance.
“Think about it, sweetie.”
The realization hit me all at once. I covered my mouth, half-laughing, half-mortified.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Inventive, right?” Simone teased.
She then picked up a small stack of DVDs.
“What do we go with tonight? Soft and mood-setting… or something a little more direct?” she mused to herself.
Before I could respond, Dean walked in, fresh from his usual Saturday basketball game. A light sheen of sweat caught the glow of the low lighting across his broad shoulders.
“Hey, babe. How’s it coming along?” he asked.
“Fine, Daddy. Claire’s been a great help. Poor girl’s a little overwhelmed though,” Simone replied, amusement flickering in her eyes.
Dean looked at me—not unkindly, but knowingly.
“Don’t worry, baby girl. Just stay in your room tonight and you’ll be fine. No one will bother you. Everyone coming is a close friend. We always vet our guests, and everyone knows the rules. Staff are to be respected.” He gave a small nod. “Be cool, girl.”
I swallowed and nodded back.
I told myself again that I would stay upstairs.
I would read.
I would ignore the music.
The sun began to set, and the house transformed with it. Golden light filtered through the windows before slowly giving way to the warm glow of lamps and candles. Simone slipped a DVD into the player; soft music drifted through the rooms as two women appeared on the screen, moving in slow, deliberate rhythm.
Dean called across the room, “Did you get Claire the things she’ll need tonight?”
My stomach dropped.
Need? What could I possibly need?
“There’s a box by the fridge, Daddy,” Simone replied casually.
Dean walked into the kitchen and picked up a box I hadn’t even noticed. He brought it over and handed it to me.
I hesitated before looking inside.
Chocolate bars. Chips. Popcorn. A tub of pasta salad. A real box of goodies.
I exhaled, relief flooding through me so quickly my knees felt weak.
“Red or white?” Dean asked.
I looked up. He was holding two bottles of wine.
“Red… I guess,” I answered, still trying to steady myself after the emotional roller coaster of the day.
He placed two bottles of red wine into the box.
“You go chill, girl. Simone will check on you around eleven to see if you need anything.”
“Okay. Hope you enjoy the party,” I said quietly.
With that, I carried the box upstairs to my room.
A good book. Maybe a movie.
That was the plan.
Chapter 5 – A Good Book and a Glass of Red
I reached my room, set the box down on the desk, and closed the door carefully behind me.
For a moment I just stood there, listening.
Muted music drifted faintly through the house. Low. Steady. Controlled.
I turned on a movie, something safe and familiar, and tried to lose myself in it. When it ended, the quiet felt heavier than before. The idea of a bath suddenly seemed perfect—warm water, a locked door, distance from whatever was happening downstairs.
I ran the tap and sprinkled in bath salts, lighting a few tea lights along the edge of the tub. The soft glow steadied my breathing. I grabbed one of the wine bottles from the box before realizing I’d forgotten a corkscrew—and a glass.
Brilliant.
I slipped into my robe and eased my door open. The landing was empty. The house below was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the walls. The music was louder now, but still slow.
I stepped out and glanced over the balcony.
The living room looked different in candlelight—less like a family space and more like something curated. Intentional.
All the guest room doors were closed.
I’d been told to leave them open.
My pulse quickened.
I moved quietly down the stairs, every creak of the wood sounding louder than it should. The kitchen was empty. I grabbed a glass and the corkscrew, working quickly.
Then I heard it.
Laughter.
Soft. Breathless. Coming from the direction of the hot tub room.
I froze.
Curiosity pressed in before common sense could stop it.
Just a second, I told myself.
Just to see.
I stepped lightly toward the doorway, clutching the glass and corkscrew like they were anchors. The light from inside flickered against the hall walls.
“Hey, baby girl. Forget something?”
I nearly dropped everything.
I turned sharply—and found Dean standing a few feet behind me.
He wasn’t wearing anything.
My eyes dropped instinctively before I could stop them.
“Hey. Eyes up here, baby girl,” he said, amusement curling at the edges of his voice.
Heat flooded my face. I forced my gaze upward.
Before the moment could stretch any further, Simone appeared from behind him and smacked his shoulder lightly.
“Leave her alone,” she said. Then to me: “Go back upstairs, sweetie.”
“Y-yes, Simone. I was just getting a glass,” I managed, holding it up like proof.
I didn’t wait for another word. I hurried back up the stairs, heart pounding, the fragile sense of safety I’d built over the past few weeks cracking in a way I couldn’t quite repair.
Back inside my room, I locked the door.
The music downstairs swelled slightly.
It was going to be a long night.
I jumped into the bath, trying to stay grounded in the plan I had formed for myself. The book sat open but forgotten beside me. The glass of wine trembled slightly in my hand as I listened, straining to focus but my mind drifting back to the things going on in the house and to what I had seen—the confidence that made my boss so commanding.
Then there was a knock at the door. “Sweetie, it’s eleven. Is everything okay?”
My heart jumped. Had she let herself in? I’d forgotten to lock the door in my panic.
“Sure. Everything’s fine,” I said, grabbing a towel to cover myself while I told that lie.
Nothing felt fine. I didn’t feel like myself at all.
I sank back into the warm water, looking up, my thoughts spinning. Simone stood in the doorway, smiling, her expression unreadable. A shiver ran down my spine as she walked toward me.
Chapter 6 – Cleaning Up the Misunderstanding
Simone seemed calm as she knelt beside the bath, her silk dressing gown falling slightly open, hinting at the lingerie beneath. Dark skin against white lace. Red silk against porcelain tiles. The whole image felt deliberate, even if she acted as though it wasn’t.
“What are you reading, sweetie? Anything good? Sit up, let me get your back.”
I shifted forward automatically. I didn’t remember deciding to move. The panic of the situation left me foggy, obedient.
“It’s a romantic drama set in France during the war,” I replied, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.
Her hand moved a sponge slowly across my back, squeezing warm water over my shoulders. The touch was gentle. Intimate. Too intimate. A shiver ran through me before I could stop it.
“I should give you one of my books. Maybe not the one I’m reading now—Paper Thin Walls might be a little too racy for you, sweetie,” she laughed softly.
Despite everything, she behaved as if this were completely normal. Casual. Domestic. And that calmness unsettled me more than anything else.
“Why don’t you give me that towel? It’s soaked. I’ll grab you a dry one.” It wasn’t really a question; she was already taking it from my hands.
“My God, girl. Don’t know what it is about you redheaded white girls, but you’ve got incredible skin. So pale. It photographs beautifully.”
“Thank you… I guess,” I said, unsure whether to feel flattered or exposed.
“You’ve got a great figure too. Ever thought about modelling? Dean’s always looking for girls for music videos. If you ever wanted a little extra cash, you’d do very well.”
The way she spoke about my body—so casually, so matter-of-fact—made heat crawl up my neck. Water streamed down my chest as she rinsed the sponge, and I hated that my body reacted at all. A tightening. A spark. A betrayal I hadn’t asked for.
Why didn’t I tell her to stop?
Why didn’t I move away?
“It’s… it’s not really my thing,” I managed.
“Yeah, it’s not for everyone.” She stood, smoothing her gown as if we’d just discussed the weather. “Oh—my mom called, by the way. She’s keeping Princess for the week, so you’re off. You deserve it. We’ve put you through a lot today. I’ll leave a fresh towel on your bed, sweetie.”
And just like that, she was gone.
The bathroom felt colder without her in it.
I stayed in the water a moment longer, staring at the ripples, trying to understand what had just happened. Nothing had happened. Not really.
And yet something had shifted.
I finished my bath quickly and slipped into bed, telling myself I was exhausted, that it had simply been a long day.
But as the music drifted faintly from downstairs, I couldn’t stop replaying her words.
You’d do very well.
I told myself it was ridiculous.
Still, I wondered if I was really good enough to be in a music video.
She was right about one thing—it had been a long day. A very long day.
Chapter 7 – Breakfast in Bed
I woke around 10 a.m. to a knock on the door.
“Sweetie, you awake? Can I come in?”
“Yes, it’s open,” I said.
Simone walked in holding a tray. “Thought I’d bring you some breakfast. There are still a few guests downstairs, but they should be gone by the time you’re finished.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
She left, shutting the door behind her and blowing me a kiss. “Enjoy your pancakes,” she said.
The night before had shaken me, but I felt a strange sort of comfort too. The Foxdens had opened their lives—their secrets—to me, completely unashamed. Trusting me with knowledge of their private world made me feel closer to them in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
I finished my breakfast, got dressed, and made my way downstairs, finding Simone by the pool.
“Hey, why don’t you join me? Everyone else has left. Go change, girl.”
I took her up on the offer and changed into a two-piece, then lay on the sunlounger beside her.
“You can relax here, girl. You know that, right? You’re part of the family now. Do your duty, and any time you have free, treat it like your own house,” she laughed.
Dean walked up to tell Simone he was going away.
“Babe, I’m going with the boys. Be back in a couple of days. You gonna be okay?”
“Sure, Daddy. Claire will keep me company, won’t you, girl? You go have fun,” she said, noticing Dean looking at me a little longer than a married man should. Given last night, it also seemed normal. I don’t know why I did it; it was like someone else moved me, but I stretched myself out, showing off in my swimwear.
“Have fun on your trip, Mr. Foxden,” I said, the words coming out of my mouth like someone had placed them there without me knowing.
Simone and I chatted like good friends the rest of the day. When night came, we sat watching a show—mostly talking with wine. Simone then mentioned a massage service she uses.
“Girl, they make you feel like a new woman. I try to get one at least once a month. I tell you, I need it on a regular schedule at this point,” she said, clearly tipsy from the wine.
“I have to say, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had one, but I’ll take your word for it,” I replied.
“What? No, no, no. You’re having one right now, girl. You need one. Never is far too long to go without.”
“What? It’s 10 o’clock at night. Where are we going to go at this time for that?” I said, hoping to bring her back from the idea.
“Girl, they come to your home. They do call-outs. I’m going to call them—you’re in for a treat, sweetie.” She left before I could protest. I knocked back my wine and refilled my glass to the top. Experience had taught me that when Simone gets an idea, it happens.
Chapter 8 – The Visitor
Simone returned, phone in hand. “They said they’ll be here soon, sweetie. Hope you’re ready.”
My stomach dropped.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Simone floated down the hall to answer it while I stayed rooted to the sofa, staring at the dark surface of my wine glass. I knocked back the rest of it before I could think too hard about what I was doing. The wine was starting to settle warm and heavy in my limbs.
I heard voices in the hallway. Laughter. Low. Familiar. Comfortable.
They were going upstairs.
I grabbed the bottle to refill my glass, then didn’t bother. I drank straight from it, the cold rim knocking lightly against my teeth. My hands were shaking now, properly shaking.
Breathe, Claire.
I inhaled slowly and let it out through my nose, the way I’d once been taught to calm myself down. It didn’t help. If anything, the room felt softer at the edges, slightly unsteady.
Then the sound of music started.
Low. Slow. Spa music drifting down from above.
My stomach twisted.
“Sweetie, come up to the master bedroom.”
For a second, I considered pretending I hadn’t heard her.
“Okay,” I called back. “Be right there.”
My voice sounded almost normal. Almost.
I set the bottle down carefully, as if sudden movements might shatter something fragile in the air. I wiped my palms against my pajama bottoms and stood up.
I told myself this was just a massage.
But my heart was racing like it knew better.
I went upstairs slowly, tugging the sleeves of my pajama top down over my hands as if the extra fabric could shield me from whatever this was. The master bedroom door was open.
A young woman stood beside a massage table set up near the windows. She looked professional. Calm. Early twenties, maybe. Brown hair tied back neatly. A small, reassuring smile.
“Hi,” she said gently. “If you could just remove your clothes in the bathroom, honey, and wrap yourself in this.”
She held out a folded towel.
My throat felt dry. I nodded and slipped into the en suite, closing the door behind me.
It’s just a massage.
I undressed slowly, folding my clothes more carefully than necessary, buying time. The bathroom light felt too bright. Too honest. I wrapped the towel around myself and stared at my reflection for a second longer than I meant to.
It’s just a massage.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, Simone was sitting in the armchair by the window, a glass of wine in her hand.
“Okay,” the masseuse said warmly. “If you’d like to lie face down, we can begin.”
“You’re going to love this, sweetie. Trust me,” Simone added, her smile casual but confident.
I climbed onto the table, the paper sheet crinkling beneath me. I rested my face in the cushioned cradle and closed my eyes.
It’s just a massage.
Warm oil touched my back.
The woman’s hands began to move slowly, deliberately, smoothing the tension from my shoulders.
And despite everything—despite the wine, the nerves, the unease sitting heavy in my chest—my body responded.
Chapter 9 – The Gentle Touch
The oil, warm against my back, was nothing compared to the sensation of her hands moving slowly over my skin. I felt myself slipping—drifting somewhere softer, quieter.
Then, suddenly, a memory of a pastor’s sermon surfaced in my mind. A welcome distraction. It grounded me, at least for a moment. I leaned into it desperately, clinging to my religion like a lifeline. I began recalling passages from the Bible to myself, whispering them in my head as if they could build a wall between my body and whatever this feeling was.
But the wall started to crumble.
I thought of Ms. McCoy from Sunday school—the way she used to speak about modesty, about purity. I tried to hear her voice clearly. Instead, in my imagination, she began telling me to relax… to enjoy myself.
A wave of shame washed over me so strong it almost made me dizzy.
I couldn’t even control my own thoughts.
The last of the power I had over myself seemed to fade when a voice drifted from the corner of the room.
“What do you think, sweetie? Heaven, right?”
No words came. Only a small, involuntary sound—the kind someone makes when they’ve lost themselves entirely.
“My girl sounds like she could get used to this,” Simone murmured.
Then the masseuse’s voice floated down softly from above me. “I think she likes it. New customer, I’d say. Should I make room in my calendar, honey?”
My voice still wouldn’t work.
But slowly, almost against my will, I lifted my arm.
“Go ahead and turn over for me, honey,” the masseuse said gently. “I’ll do the front now.”
The paper beneath me crackled as I shifted. The towel was adjusted with professional efficiency, modest but minimal. I stared up at the ceiling, the soft music filling the spaces where my thoughts should have been steady.
Her hands moved to my stomach, slow circles, warm oil spreading in careful strokes. I closed my eyes.
This is it.
My thoughts felt distorted, louder than they should have been.
She’s going to move higher. What’s it going to feel like? What if I like it?
The questions came fast, breathless, tumbling over one another.
When her hands drifted upward, the sensation startled me. Not painful. Not wrong. Just… electric. A sharp awareness shot through me, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. My breathing changed. I felt it happen and hated that I felt it.
I turned my head slightly toward Simone.
She was watching.
“You okay, sweetie?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” I managed, my voice low, almost unrecognisable to my own ears.
I closed my eyes again and swallowed, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth felt, how loud my breathing sounded in the quiet room.
After that, time blurred.
The music, the steady movement of hands, Simone’s quiet presence in the corner—it all folded in on itself. Sensation replaced thought. Shame flickered in and out like a faulty lightbulb, but it never quite took hold.
The next clear memory I have is of standing in the shower.
Warm water cascaded over me while two sets of hands rinsed the oil from my skin. It felt strangely distant, like something happening to someone else.
“Let’s clean that off and get you to bed,” one of them said gently. “You need some sleep.”
I’m not sure who spoke.
Everything after that fades to soft edges.
When I woke the next morning, light filtered through unfamiliar curtains. For a moment I didn’t understand where I was.
Then I turned my head.
Simone was asleep beside me.
I wasn’t in my room.
I was in hers.
Chapter 10 – Unwanted Wishes
My head was heavy, pounding from the hangover I’d woken up with. All I could do was lie there, eyes closed, hoping for the kind of dramatic, merciful end we all joke about after too much wine.
Simone stirred beside me. “Hey, girl, you okay?”
“No,” I muttered. “I feel horrible. Why am I in your bed?”
“You fell asleep on the table. We had to clean you up and put you to bed. Mine was closest. How much did you drink last night?”
“A lot, I guess. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll get you something for your head.”
She slipped out of bed like nothing about this was unusual.
I spent the rest of the day recovering, telling myself the excitement of the night before was just the alcohol—but I didn’t fully believe the lie.
I felt different. Like something I thought I knew about myself wasn’t solid anymore. Like I was a stranger to myself, and I was only just being introduced to the version that had been waiting quietly for her turn.
And she wanted things.
She wanted to drive to Texas and become a cowgirl. She wanted to disappear into the woods in Canada just because she hadn’t before. She wanted movement. Change. Risk.
I told myself the thoughts were stupid.
Then that new voice would answer back: if the Foxdens can have their parties, why can’t I do what I want?
For three days, my mind drifted like that.
The more Simone and I talked, the more I learned about the things she’d done before becoming a mother. She’d moved to LA just because her friend wanted to be an actor—and, as she put it, she’d had nothing better to do. She’d been a singer, a stripper, and had even appeared in an adult film once under the name Lexi Red.
She told me she met Dean after being invited to a party by a rapper he was working with—someone who had seen the film.
She spoke about it all without shame. Without regret.
And I found myself wanting that world. Not necessarily the fame, not even the lifestyle—but the freedom. The version of yourself that doesn’t apologise for existing.
So when Simone asked if I wanted to join her for a girls’ night with her friends, I heard myself say yes before I had time to think.
Chapter 11 – Girls’ Night
Girls’ night with Simone’s friends—Kelly, an Asian woman in her late twenties, and Aaleyah, a Black woman the same age as Simone—was exactly what you’d expect at first. Drinking, dancing, and a generous amount of complaining about men.
Somewhere along the way, the plan shifted. We ended up back at the Foxden house, the three of them deciding they would stay the night. I wasn’t sure when that had been agreed upon, but by then the wine had blurred the edges of the evening.
We sat in the living room, shoes kicked off, glasses refilled. Aaleyah told stories about growing up with Simone—how they met Kelly after Aaleyah’s husband invested in Kelly’s dad’s tech company. The history between them was easy, familiar.
Then Aaleyah turned to me.
“So, how’s working for Simone been, Claire? Is it as interesting as I imagine?” she asked, her tone light but knowing.
“It’s not what I expected,” I said carefully. “But it’s a great job. My bosses are very easygoing, and Princess is adorable. I’m very happy to work here.” I smiled gratefully at Simone.
“You don’t feel left out when they have their parties? They never let the staff play.” Aaleyah tilted her head, teasing—but there was something else beneath it.
“No. I’m okay with their private life. I’m just here to take care of Princess, and Mr. and Mrs. Foxden have been very respectful of that,” I replied, holding her gaze as I sipped my wine.
“You’re not curious? About what happens? What goes on at all?” she pressed, almost playfully.
“Stop it, Aaleyah. Leave her alone. You don’t have to answer that, sweetie,” Simone cut in, stepping smoothly to my defence.
“Sweetie, is it?” Aaleyah and Kelly echoed together, their voices lifting as if a secret had slipped out.
“Shut up,” Simone laughed, though there was a warning in it. “I said it to calm her on her first day—she seemed nervous and it stuck. Stop playing. I know what you’re trying to do. Leave her alone, okay? She’s only young.”
“Fine. Let’s move on to the girls’ night game,” Aaleyah said, sounding annoyed.
“Thank you,” Simone replied.
“And since it’s my turn to choose, I pick ‘Don’t Crack,’” Aaleyah said, looking directly at Simone.
“What? We haven’t played that since high school. Are you crazy? No way,” Simone said, taking another sip of wine.
Kelly leaned forward. “That’s the game you told me about, right? Where each person picks an interrogator and a prisoner, and the interrogator can do whatever they want for one minute to try to make the prisoner react or tell them to stop? That one?”
“That’s the one. And it’s my turn to pick,” Aaleyah said, smiling like she had already won.
“Okay, I’m game,” Kelly said with a shrug. “Why not?”
Simone glanced at me, giving a subtle shake of her head. “Can we play something else? Claire won’t want to play that… will you, sweetie?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to be the boring one. And if I was honest, I was curious—excited, even. Maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was that new voice inside me, the one that had been getting louder lately.
“I’m happy to play,” I said, lifting my chin slightly. “Why not? It sounds interesting.”
Chapter 12 – Games Night
Aaleyah leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying the attention.
“It’s a game Simone and I made up at a sleepover years ago,” she said. “The rules are simple. One person is the interrogator. One person is the prisoner. The interrogator can do anything they like until the time runs out.”
She paused deliberately.
“Round one is one minute. Round two is two. It keeps going up from there.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“Anything,” Aaleyah repeated. “As long as it doesn’t cause pain. No hurting. And no tickling.” She smirked. “That’s cheating.”
“And the point?” I asked.
“You don’t react,” Simone said quietly. “You don’t tell them to stop. You don’t break. Everyone cracks eventually. The only question is how long you last.”
The room felt smaller somehow. Warmer.
Kelly clapped her hands once. “Right then. Let’s do it properly.” She grabbed a coin from her handbag. “Heads or tails?”
Simone called it. She lost.
Kelly grinned. “Looks like I get first pick.” She didn’t hesitate. “Aaleyah, you’re up. Simone’s your prisoner.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse ticking faster as Aaleyah leaned toward Simone, the air between them charged with something I couldn’t name. Kelly’s eyes flicked toward me, playful but assessing. I felt like a deer caught in headlights, unsure whether I was allowed to move, speak, or even breathe.
Aaleyah gently tugged at Simone’s top and unhooked her bra, her fingers brushing against Simone’s skin with deliberate care. “Bring back memories?” she asked. “I’m going to settle the score this time, if it’s the last thing I do.”
The timer sounded.
“Time,” Simone said breathlessly. “Is that why you wanted to play, to settle a score?”
“Well, that would be a bonus,” Aaleyah replied, glancing at me.
“Right, my turn to pick. Kelly, Aaleyah is your prisoner.”
Kelly moved toward Aaleyah. “Okay, so what do I do? Just… do something?”
“Yeah, if I were you, I’d kiss her neck,” Simone said with a teasing smile.
“Hey, no helping, bitch,” Aaleyah shot back playfully.
I waited with anticipation as the game moved closer to the point where I might be the prisoner. Who would choose me? What would happen if I became the interrogator first? The new, daring voice inside me whispered, I hope it’s with Simone.
When Kelly finished her round with Aaleyah, it was Aaleyah’s turn to pick.
“Now who should the nanny take care of?” she teased, enjoying the moment.
“God, you’re so obvious. Stop being such a bore,” Simone said with a laugh.
“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll go easy on you. Claire, you get Kelly as your prisoner,” Aaleyah said.
Her words made me feel strangely relieved… but also disappointed. A small, sharp stab of jealousy surprised me.
I watched as Kelly moved closer while Simone’s hand slowly slid up Kelly’s leg, inching toward somewhere far more intimate as she whispered something into her ear—something that made Kelly’s breath hitch.
Then a knock on the door interrupted the moment.
“Finally, the pizza’s here,” Aaleyah said, jumping up.
And just like that, the game was over.
Strange as it sounded, I had never wanted the pizza guy to disappear more in my life. That might have been the first time I would have happily gone without pizza.
Chapter 13 – Finding Myself
At the end of the night I lay in my bed thinking about the past few weeks, and about how much my life had changed. The way I thought about things wasn’t the same anymore.
Back home, swinging had been a sin. The kind of thing people whispered about with judgement in their voices. The people who did it were supposed to be selfish, immoral, broken somehow.
But the Foxdens weren’t like that at all.
They were caring, kind, and strangely considerate of me and my feelings. They had welcomed me into their home when I had nothing. They trusted me with Princess. They treated me like I mattered.
And Simone… she wasn’t anything like the picture I had once had in my mind.
She was beautiful, confident, intelligent—but also warm, down-to-earth, and disarmingly friendly. The more I thought about her, the harder it became to pretend she was just my boss.
Lying there in the quiet of my room, I felt a restless energy building inside me. My thoughts kept drifting back to her—her laugh, the way she moved, the effortless confidence she carried with her.
Images from the night replayed in my mind.
The way her hand had moved slowly up Kelly’s thigh during the game.
The way her red lips had parted as she sipped her wine.
Little memories surfaced too—things that shouldn’t have mattered but somehow did. The way she would dip a finger into the jam at breakfast and lick it clean with a playful smile. The warmth of her skin when I rubbed sunscreen onto her back by the pool.
My breathing grew heavier as those memories blurred together in my imagination.
I remembered the way she sometimes pulled me into a quick hug, pressing her cheek to mine before saying softly, “You did good, girl,” whenever I’d done something that made her happy.
Those small moments suddenly felt different now.
More intimate.
More dangerous.
I shifted slightly beneath the covers, my mind racing as the memories grew bolder, more vivid the longer I let myself dwell on them. The quiet room seemed to close in around me as my thoughts drifted further than they ever had before.
For the first time, I stopped pretending I didn’t know what I wanted.
I wanted Simone.
The realization made my heart pound.
My imagination carried me deeper into the fantasy, the images becoming more intense the longer I let them play out. I was so lost in those thoughts that I didn’t hear the door open.
I was getting close to the edge of my control when a voice suddenly cut through the darkness.
“Having fun there, are we?”
The words sent a chill racing down my spine.
Chapter 14 – Confessions of a Nanny’s Desire
I yanked the covers up to my neck even though they were already pulled to my chest, my whole body shaking.
My eyes adjusted to the dark room. The only light came from the hallway spilling through the open door and the faint moonlight from the window beside my bed. A silhouette stood there watching me.
“What are you doing, Claire?” the voice asked.
My heart hammered. For a moment I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Just… trying to sleep,” I replied, though the words sounded weak even to me.
“That’s not all you were doing,” the voice said calmly. “I’ve been watching you, Claire.”
The figure stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her. As she moved closer, the moonlight revealed her face.
Aaleyah.
My stomach twisted.
She sat down on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping beneath her weight.
“I could help you with that,” she said lightly. “Or…” she paused, holding up her phone, “I could show everyone the little video I just took. Maybe I should show Simone.”
“Please don’t,” I said quickly. “I was just—”
The words died in my throat.
“I know exactly what you were doing,” Aaleyah said, her voice soft but certain. “And if you let me take care of it for you, it can stay between us. What do you say?”
The choice didn’t feel like a choice at all.
The thought of Simone seeing that video made my face burn with humiliation. I would die of embarrassment.
Aaleyah lay down beside me when I didn’t answer, taking my silence as permission. I was frozen with panic as she gently traced her fingers across my shoulder, down my arm, and finally onto my hand.
“Don’t be shy,” she murmured. “I’ll take good care of you. You’ll love it. I promise.”
She leaned over and kissed my cheek before beginning to slowly unbutton my pyjama top, one button at a time, gently stroking the skin she revealed as she went.
“Relax,” she whispered softly.
My heart raced with a confusing mix of fear and excitement as I lay there beside her.
Chapter 15 – Playing with a Friend
Aaleyah’s fingers paused on the last button of my pajama top. The fabric parted slowly, cool air brushing across the newly exposed skin of my chest. My nipples tightened instantly—not from cold, but from the weight of her gaze.
She didn’t rush.
Instead, she traced one fingertip in a lazy circle around my left breast, not quite touching the center, watching my face the entire time. I tried to keep my breathing even. I failed.
“You’re shaking,” she murmured, almost fondly. “That’s sweet.”
“I—I don’t want Simone to see that video,” I whispered. The words came out small, childish. I hated how fragile they sounded.
“Then be good and do as I say.” Her voice stayed soft, reasonable, like we were discussing where we were going for lunch.
I swallowed. My throat clicked.
She leaned down and pressed her lips to the hollow of my throat—soft, warm, deliberate. Then lower. A slow, open-mouthed kiss just above my collarbone. Another, lower still. When her mouth finally closed over my nipple, I gasped sharply.
It wasn’t pain.
Her tongue circled once, twice, then flicked—sharp, practiced. My back arched without permission. A sound escaped me I didn’t recognize.
“See?” she whispered against my skin. “Your body already knows what it wants.”
“Perhaps we should stop,” I asked quietly.
“Don’t fight me. You know you like it, don’t you?” she replied.
Her hand slid down my stomach, stopping to trace around my bellybutton for a moment, then under the waistband of my pajama bottoms. I tensed. She paused.
“I know you want it, Claire. You going to be a good girl?”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded—once, jerky.
“Good girl,” she smiled.
Her fingers slipped lower, finding me already slick, embarrassingly ready. She made a quiet, approving sound in her throat.
“You were close when I walked in, weren’t you?” she stroked once, slow and deliberate. “Thinking about Simone. Her hands. Her mouth. The way she calls you ‘sweetie,’ like it’s a secret just for the two of you.”
My hips jerked involuntarily.
Aaleyah laughed under her breath. “Thought so before you said her name.”
I looked at her in sudden panic, quickly replaced by the feeling of her tongue lightly licking my lips as she kissed me with gentle pecks, humming from enjoying the control. “You look so scared. I love that—that’s what gets me going,” she said, low but forceful.
She kept the rhythm maddeningly slow—enough to keep me hovering, nowhere near enough to push me over. Every time my breathing hitched and my thighs trembled, she eased off, watching my face with dark, amused eyes.
“Please,” I finally choked out. I didn’t even know what I was asking for.
“Please what, baby?”
I turned my head into the pillow, mortified.
“You want to cum?” she asked. I nodded, looking into her eyes.
She rewarded me with a firmer stroke, curling two fingers just inside while her thumb circled my clit in tight, perfect loops. The pressure built so fast I couldn’t breathe around it.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “Let go. No one’s watching but me. Good girl.”
The orgasm hit like a slap—sudden, brutal, blinding. My whole body locked, thighs clamping around her hand as wave after wave tore through me. I bit my own forearm to keep from crying out loud enough to wake the house.
When it finally ended, I was shaking, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. Not sad tears. Just… overwhelmed.
Aaleyah withdrew her hand slowly, brought her fingers to her mouth, and licked them clean without breaking eye contact.
“Taste like innocence,” she said, almost thoughtfully. “I’m going to love breaking that.”
But the idea didn’t scare me. I anticipated enjoying it.
Chapter 16 – With Friends Like This
Aaleyah started gently pecking my lips again.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” she whispered. “You’re such a good girl, Claire. Just enjoy yourself. Let go.”
She nudged my chin slightly.
“Kiss me properly,” she said. “Kiss me like you mean it. Let me see your tongue… go on, let me see it.”
I opened my mouth a little, just enough to push the tip of my tongue against my bottom lip so she could see it. I wasn’t sure if I should do it or not.
“That’s it… so sexy,” she murmured, licking slowly across it. “You’re so fucking innocent, aren’t you?”
Then she started kissing me again, deeper this time, playing with my tongue with hers. My stomach fluttered as she moved down to my neck, leaving warm kisses along my skin.
She continued lower, licking and softly biting my nipples before trailing kisses down my stomach and below my bellybutton.
Then she grabbed my legs and firmly parted them, the movement quick and confident, full of domination.
“I’ve counted one,” she said with a teasing smile. “Shall we go for number two with my mouth?”
I looked at her as she bit the inside of my leg just above my knee, slowly moving upward while watching my face, waiting for my response.
“Er… okay… if that’s what you want,” I said quietly, nodding slightly, my eyes fixed on her.
“Tell me,” she said softly. “Tell me to lick your little white pussy. I want to hear you talk dirty to me.”
“L-lick… lick my pussy,” I said quickly, so quietly I wasn’t sure I had made any sound at all.
Aaleyah shook her head, smiling.
“No. I like your little white pussy. It’s so fucking pretty. I want to hear you tell me to lick it properly. Come on… say it.”
“Lick my little white pussy,” I said again, a little louder this time, but no less shy.
“Please,” she teased. “Say please and I will.”
I swallowed hard, heat rushing to my face.
“Please… lick my little white pussy,” I managed to say, the words tumbling out as the last of my self-control slipped away.
Her tongue felt beyond anything I could have ever imagined. My mind melted to nothing along with the rest of my body as the intense waves of pleasure began to build.
It felt like waves rolling onto a beach, each one reaching a little farther than the last as the tide came in. With every wave something inside me shifted, softened, changed—like sand slowly being reshaped by the sea. I felt more like a woman in that moment than I ever had before, lost in my own desire.
“That’s it… enjoy it. Let go. Give it to me. Let me taste you fully. You’re so fucking sweet. That’s it, good girl… you’re such a good girl. Let it happen,” Aaleyah said with encouragement, though I didn’t need any. My body moved instinctively, hips shifting as I chased the feeling of her amazing mouth.
The pleasure finally broke over me and I exploded into my second orgasm.
“Oh my God… oh my God… oh my—oh my—oh my God,” I cried out loudly, completely unashamed.
“That’s it. Good girl,” Aaleyah murmured.
She kissed her way slowly up my body before finally reaching my lips, pressing a gentle kiss there as I lay back, basking in the afterglow.
“That’s a good girl. God… I want to make you my little fuck toy,” she said softly.
I looked at her for a moment before leaning forward and kissing her myself for the first time.
Again, the idea didn’t scare me anymore. I anticipated enjoying it.
Chapter 17 – Friends Do Everything Together
For a long moment neither of us moved.
The room felt smaller somehow, warmer.
Aaleyah was still watching me, that same amused look in her eyes, like she was waiting to see what I would do next. She stroked my hair before finally breaking the silence, much to my relief.
“You okay, baby? Do you need a minute to get a hold of yourself?”
“I’m okay. That was just a little new for me,” I said.
I looked down at my hand resting on my bare chest while she played with my fingers.
I was still nervous as hell, but it was mixed now with a strange new feeling—wanting to please her. I told myself it was because of the video, but deep down I knew it was really to thank her for how she was making me feel.
“So,” she said, kissing me, “are you going to be a good girl just one more time and give me number three? Would you do that for me?”
“Okay… I guess I can do that if that’s what you want,” I said.
My heart was racing at the thought of what she was asking. Could I really do something like that? Would I like it? A thousand thoughts hit me all at once, but the biggest of them all was curiosity.
Aaleyah opened her robe. She was naked underneath.
“Touch my breast, baby,” she said. She sounded caring in a way—a gentle guide leading me through things one step at a time.
I reached out and placed my hand on her warm breast. Then I stroked two fingers over her dark brown nipple. They were larger than mine, hardening under my fingertips.
“Mmm… you’re doing so good. I like that,” she said softly.
“Really? You think that’s nice?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s so fucking sexy. Play with them. Do whatever you want to them. Enjoy them. That’s a good girl.”
The idea that I was giving her pleasure excited me more than I expected. I leaned forward and placed my mouth over her nipple, touching it gently with my tongue. Then, without a second thought, I rolled my tongue around it and flicked it lightly.
It was far more fun than I had imagined. She hissed and moaned from my actions.
“Can you lick me like I did you? I want it so bad. Would you do that for me?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, my mouth still wrapped around her gorgeous breast. In just a few moments it had become my new favourite thing to put my mouth on in the world.
I moved into position, ready to do what she wanted. I was so nervous my heart thumped against my chest as I looked down at her shaved pussy. A small red kiss tattoo just above it caught my eye. It looked beautiful.
I moved down and began slowly, almost guessing at first. My movements were rushed at the start, but soon I began to find a rhythm as I tasted her.
“Yeah… that’s it. You’re doing so good. Now you’re getting it. Good girl,” Aaleyah encouraged.
As I continued, I felt the need to move my hand down between my own legs. I rubbed myself gently. I told myself it was to help with the rhythm and pressure I was giving Aaleyah, but the truth was I was loving every minute of the evening so far.
“Yes… yes… I’m going to cum in your mouth,” Aaleyah screamed, grabbing the back of my head.
A moment later she pulled my head up as she struggled to catch her breath.
“You did good. So good. Wow,” she said.
But something had taken over me. I grabbed her hips and pulled her back down onto my mouth, licking and kissing her again, humming softly as if claiming my well-earned reward.
“Fuck me… you’re not a good girl, are you? You’re a naughty girl. Fuck yeah—lick it, lick it. I’m going to cum again. Fuck,” Aaleyah gasped.
Her reaction filled me with satisfaction as I finished her with soft kisses and teasing licks. Finally she pulled me up and kissed me deeply, our tongues dancing together.
After about ten minutes of playing, she finally brought the evening to an end.
“I better get back to my guest room before someone notices I’m not there,” she said.
She left, leaving me lying there in total bliss.
Meeting the Foxdens had set me on a path I never expected—a path I couldn’t wait to see where it would lead me next.
The End
Living with the Foxdens – Coming soon
