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Learning the Dance
by
Archetype
The noblest of men have thoughts
that would scare the Devil himself.
Prologue
“Christ!” thought Michael
Sharpe. “What do I do now?”
Michael was watching the
e-vids on his mail terminal. The face on the screen expressed sympathy but the
words were clear -- someone else had been offered the teaching position at
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Michael leaned away from the screen and closed his eyes. The last four years -
all his efforts - all the crap he had taken from his advisors - the money he
had spent - all of it collapsed into a black despair. “What the fuck do I do
now?”
Three months earlier
Michael had been in a better mood. He had just been awarded his PhD in
Psychology at the
“Fuck!” Michael got up to
leave. He had no place in mind. As he walked out through the door his terminal
binged with the sound of an incoming message. He stopped, looked at it, and
decided to go back.
The screen came up with
the secure mail logo and prompted him for his security code. This was weird. He
almost never got secure mail. He entered his code and the screen flashed
briefly, resolving into a simple typed message: “Please meet Mr. Dominic
D'Attillio at Le Caveau Restaurant at
Michael stared at the
screen. Dominic D'Attillio? He had never heard of the guy. Typing swiftly, he
brought up the mail headers for more information, but the sender's address was
hidden. His curiosity aroused, he started typing faster, attempting to discover
more about the message. Michael's four years at graduate school had left him
with some skills at the computer, but nothing had prepared him for what he
found out next. Nothing. Within ten seconds the message file itself had
disappeared, leaving no trace. Michael was left staring at the screen,
astonished.
It was this electronic
vanishing act, as much as anything, that convinced him to go to lunch.
An Interesting Lunch
Michael arrived exactly on time at the restaurant dressed
in the suit he had bought for his job interviews. “Might as well use it for
something,” he had thought. He knew the restaurant, but had never been inside
before. All he really knew was that he couldn't afford to eat there.
A very large man approached him immediately. Michael
decided to speak first. “I was asked to meet a Mr. D'Attillio here today at
The man's face remained impassive, but his eyes softened
as they examined Michael. Certainly the man had been expecting him, and Michael
thought he saw something in his eyes -- respect? It was strange. The man bowed
imperceptibly and said: “I will take you to him. Please follow me.”
Michael was led toward the back of the room. He saw that
the place was fairly crowded -- mostly with couples but there were a few larger
groups of what could be executives at lunch. Finally they stopped in front of a
table near the back wall at which were seated a man and a woman. The large man
pulled out a chair and gestured with his hand for Michael to take a seat.
“Doctor Sharpe.” said the man at the table, with a smile.
“Welcome. Please sit down. I am Dominic D'Attillio.” He did not get up, but
stretched out his hand and shook Michael's warmly.
“I'm pleased to meet you.” Michael replied. He felt
better at the genuinely warm welcome. As he began to sit in the offered chair
he looked across the table at the woman, making to reach out his hand to her as
well. Something made him stop. A flood
of sensations went through him at that point. This woman was gorgeous. She was
also -- it was the only word -- expensive. Her blond hair was intricately
curled on top of her head with several long strands hanging down each side of
her face. And her face itself was stunning – aristocratic. The skin was soft
and creamy, and her lips were delicate but still full and sensuous. Her eyes
remained downcast, and he could not see them.
She was dressed in a light blue tailored suit that even
Michael could tell was made for her. The jacket covered her right up to the
neck, where it ended in a collar that ringed her throat. But Michael could not look
down. He kept staring at the girl’s face because he had just realized that
below her neck the blue fabric was held out by an incredible pair of breasts.
He could not look at them directly, here in public, in front of two men he had
barely met. But there was a sudden blaze in his crotch that he fought to
control followed swiftly by a surge of anger at the weakness he felt.
He became aware of the sitting man's eyes watching him.
Shaking his head slightly, he forced his gaze down to the table, and then
looked at Dominic. He was still half standing. But no words came out, and he
must have looked quite helpless.
Dominic's eyes sparkled and his smile turned into a wide
grin. “You must excuse me,” he said. “Doctor Sharpe, this is Miss Mandy Grey.”
Michael looked back at the vision seated across from him and this time he did
reach out his hand. Dominic spoke again softly: “Mandy, you may greet Doctor Sharpe.”
The girl's eyes rose to focus on his and Michael was
again transfixed. Her eyes were large and dark and her gaze direct - even
childlike - but Michael could also see that she was agitated. He realized the
girl was very nervous – she was perhaps even more nervous than he at this
point. Why? Why would she be anxious about meeting him?
She spoke, and her voice was soft: “I am very pleased to
meet you, Sir”. Michael was hypnotized by the delicate movements of her lips. Then
their hands met, and her fingers moved lightly over his before grasping him
briefly. The touch electrified his fingers even as she withdrew her hand and
placed it in her lap once again.
Michael's crotch was on fire and his ears were ringing. It
took a real effort to calm down. Finally he sat and looked at Dominic. His tone
was formal. “I must thank you for this invitation. But you have me at a great
disadvantage. Why am I here?”
Dominic smiled again and raised both his hands in a
gesture of friendly apology. “Doctor Sharpe, I know a great deal more about you
than you can imagine. I know you are looking for a position, and by the end of
lunch today I am going to offer you something that I am sure you will find most
attractive. Please relax. It will take some time to explain, and the food here
is excellent. There are a great many things here that you do not understand.”
“Well, that part is certainly correct.” Michael reached
for his napkin.
“It is. Let me start at the beginning. You were born and
raised in here in
Michael nodded, not really surprised that someone who
could make an e-vid disappear could also find out information that would be
widely available on the hyperweb.
“You never met your father.” Dominic was looking at him
closely.
Michael just shrugged. “It's true.”
“Michael, this will sound very strange. But you have met
your father. You are looking at him.”
Michael sat back. He didn't believe it, necessarily, but
it was a shocking thing to hear even so. “You?” He began to examine the man's
face more closely, and listened more carefully to the sound of his voice.
“I'm afraid so. Your mother worked for me many years ago,
and she became pregnant. She managed to -- ah -- she left my employ before I
knew about you, and it took me some time to find her. She was an intelligent
woman, your mother. Very smart. And very beautiful.”
Watching him, Michael was beginning to believe that it might
be possible.
“Yes, she was. But she never said anything about you. She
told me my father had died before I was born. And that we were living off his
insurance for many years.”
“Well, that was not true. Your mother loved you, and
brought you up well. Once I discovered where she was and that she had a child,
I found ways to provide for her and for you. I don't know why - it is a bit out
of character for me.” Michael saw a strange look in Dominic’s eyes at that
point, and his own narrowed slightly. “Then, two years ago I began to take a
new interest in you. I am now in a
position to help you again.”
Dominic sat back suddenly as the waiter arrived. “But
this is all a bit much to learn at once. Here is our first course.” Both of
them were silent as they were served. After the waiter left Dominic began to
speak again, and as the time passed Michael began to form the opinion that he
was telling the truth. It was clear that Dominic was a strange man, and held
many secrets. But Michael was a complicated man himself, and he trusted his
instincts.
Michael was insatiably curious about the woman who sat
quietly across from him, and he managed to examine her on more than one
occasion. He learned little. Not once did she speak or raise her eyes. Dominic made no attempt to include her in the
conversation, although he did look at her quite openly from time to time. The
girl received no food, and her hands remained in her lap. Yet her posture was
confident. Her back was straight and she appeared almost to be thrusting her
breasts forward. She sat like a doll on display. Michael at first was
uncomfortable with this – he had never been in a group where one person was so
clearly subordinate to another. But he
could not ignore the blaze in his crotch.
By the time dessert arrived, Michael was beginning to
believe that Dominic really could be his father. This realization led to no
great emotion in Michael. He had never had a father, and never expected to have
one. This man was interesting, but the fact that he might be his father was
somehow irrelevant. It was the girl sitting across the table that continued to
excite and interest him. He began to wonder what would happen next.
“Michael, I said that at the beginning of lunch I was in
a position to offer you something of great interest. This offer is very hard to
describe -- you will have to be shown what is involved. But I know enough about
you and I have learned enough from meeting you to trust this decision.”
“What offer? You will have to tell me more than this.”
“Yes, of course, and I will. But not now. You will have
to come to my home and there you will see what is involved.”
Michael stared at him for a moment. “Well, yes of course
I will be pleased to come to your home. But surely you can tell me something
more.”
It was Dominic's turn to stare. Then he said simply: “I
would like you to take over my business.”
With an air of finality, Dominic motioned to the large
man who had been standing nearby the whole time. The man swiftly moved behind
and helped him to his feet. Once standing, Dominic motioned to the girl, who
also stood. Dominic took her hand and the three of them turned to leave.
“Wait, please. Where is you house? When should I arrive?”
“You will be contacted,” said Dominic, looking back. Then
he smiled again - his grin an odd mix of affection and something more
conspiratorial. “I think you will be pleased.”
Michael remained at the table as they walked slowly
through the restaurant to the front door. Really, he just stared at the girl.
She was of medium height – maybe about 5’6”. From the back she was slim but
very shapely. Her suit came with a skirt that went to mid thigh, and her legs
were bare – slim and elegant in high heels. The blue fabric of the jacket lay
smoothly across her buttocks, revealing a tight, shapely ass. As she turned
sideways to move to the door he saw that
incredible chest. His crotch blazed again and finally he could reach down to
adjust himself.
Michael sat at the table for some time longer. Then he
got up and left the restaurant, walking swiftly. There were some things he
needed to know about Mr. Dominic D'Attillio.