Heist Honey 12 (Patreon)

The next day, Chloe joined Beatrice for their usual post-breakfast walk along the grounds, today however as they walked the well manicured grounds, Beatrice brought a book of poetry. 

“And on that cheek–” Chloe read flatly– “And over that brow.”

“O’er.” Beatrice corrected over her shoulder.

“That's what I said.” Chloe grumbled before he continued, “And on that cheek. And o’er that brow.” He said, emphasizing the word, “So soft. So calm. Yet eloquent. The smiles that win, the tints that glow. But tell of days in goodness spent. A mind at peace with all below. A heart whose love is innocent.”

“Wrong.” Beatrice sighed and stopped in the soft grass.

“What? I read it from the book like you told me to.” Chloe grumbled and glared at the belt around his knees, omitting the fact this was the fifth time he had read this particular poem.

“That is precisely the problem. You simply read. You did not feel the words.”

Chloe rolled his eyes, “Unbelievable.” He muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Chloe hesitated, still feeling the stinging pain in his butt, “Walking the grounds in heels I get, but I really don’t get this.”

“What Byron is saying–”

“No, I get that part. He likes this girl.” Chloe shrugged, “So just tell her. Nobody talks this way in real life.” ‘William doesn’t even talk like this.’ Chloe frowned. Why was he thinking of William again?

“Do not interrupt when someone is speaking. ” she harrumphed, “However, you are correct, no one speaks this way. Which is precisely why it is important.”

“W–Pardon?”

“One day you will learn that you are of a higher class than you once were. As a proper young lady that demands you walk, talk, and act properly.”

“And this Byron guy is gonna help with that?”

Beatrice closed her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw as they walked back to the solarium. “Reciting poetry will help you with elocution, pronunciation, and vocabulary. Lord Byron is simply a wonderful poet with a beautiful soul.”

“Geeze, maybe you should invite Byron over for dinner.” Chloe giggled.

Beatrice smirked and again some of her youthful beauty bled through, “There were many a night I wished that I could. But, alas, he died a hundred and fifty years before I was even born.”

“...tragic.” Chloe said as his knees twitched against their bonds.

“Truly. Come along. We still have more work to do today. There is no reason to doddle.” She opened the glass door to the solarium, allowing Chloe to walk in first. Beatrice allowed her chest to fill with a sense of pride after she watched how easily Chloe now walked in her four inch block heels. Tomorrow she would remove the belt and see how she performed without her reminder. ‘At this rate she will master five inch stilettos by the end of the week.’ Not that Beatrice, herself, was fond of stilettos herself but they exude elegance and grace. She knew from her own experience when paired with the right skirt-suit a pair of five inch heels would place her at eye level with the men who would be below her as well as give her that sense of authority both within and without that she would need in the boardroom. ‘Anything more than six inches and she may as well be a streetwalker.’ She thought with a shudder. As she watched Chloe gracefully lower herself into the wicker seat she couldn’t help but think of another possible future for her granddaughter. ‘Perhaps there is a prima ballerina hidden in my little Chloe.’

Chloe sighed as he carefully smoothed out the hem of his pleated plaid purple skirt underneath him like he had been taught, so as not to wrinkle the dress or worse expose his rear to ‘God and all his creation’ as Beatrice put it whenever he had forgotten how to sit like a lady. The painful reminder of his spanking still caused him to flinch when he forgot and touched his butt, he would definitely need to use the cream later tonight.

“Now you will sit here and write your apologies. one-hundred times before lunch.”

“A hundred times?!” Chloe shouted.

“Yes, this way I can be sure the lesson sticks with you. Unless you would rather a mouthful of soap again?”

Chloe's eyes widened, “No, no. A hundred is fine!”

“Splendid.” Beatrice smirked and sat across from Chloe at the glass table opening a folder from the stack of folders Sheffield had placed out for her before their walk.

Chloe shook his head and picked up the sheet and read the lines he was to write. ‘A proper young woman does not demean herself with foul language. A proper young lady does not embarrass herself or others with overt displays of public affection. As a Pasini and growing woman I shall always strive to be best. As a child I am to be a good girl, as a young woman my goal is to be someone others look up to. I shall honor my family legacy of excellence and moral rectitude.’

“Is something the matter?” Beatrice asked, having not begun to look over her files yet.

Chloe clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to exclaim how stupid the lines he was expected to copy were and instead simply stated: “My last name is Burke.”

Beatrice straightened herself as she noticed just how much this fact upset her granddaughter. Despite how hard Chloe tried to hide it with a fake smile. Another failure by her son she would have to rectify. "You are part of this family.” Chloe scoffed silently before returning to stare at the paper. He had lost count of the times he had been told something similar by foster parents. Unaware of Chloe’s real history, Beatrice could only see the distant light in her granddaughter’s eyes. How much that light reminded her of her son. When did she first notice that light had finally vanished from his eyes? Beatrice frowned and moved to a seat beside Chloe. Taking the young girl’s chin in her hand, Beatrice lifted her face until their eyes met. “Chloe, you are my family. If that were not the case I would not care if you did not live up to your full potential.”

“What if I’m already at my full potential?” Chloe knew it was dumb to ask since the question would only annoy her and prolong the speech but the words had slipped out before he could stop himself. Beatrice’s response wasn’t what surprised him, but rather the slight release of tension in her shoulders and the softening of her face that caught him off guard.

“You are an incredibly bright girl with so much more to offer than I suspect even you are yet aware of. We all have room for improvement, even old ladies stuck in their ways.” She said with a soft smile as she gently held Chloe’s hand. Beatrice couldn’t help but think of her son once again and how he had asked the same question so many years ago. She had simply told him that was nonsense and left him alone with his studies thinking that was praise enough. Her son had his failings but perhaps if she had done better with him she would not have missed out on all the years with Mark and Chloe. “But no matter what I will always love you for who you are, Chloe.”  

Chloe nodded slowly, “I should…” he paused to swallow the rock in his throat, “I should get to work.” Beatrice nodded as well and returned to her original seat, making several notes in a legal pad before opening a file.

For the next half hour Chloe rushed through his punishment as fast as possible. Trying to ignore the humiliating nature of the words he was forced to copy. “Finished!” Chloe cheered as he held the single sheet up triumphantly to a surprised Beatrice.

“You have?”

“Yep.” He smiled.

Beatrice stood with a sigh and took the paper from Chloe’s hand. “Oh dear.” She said after a brief look over the sheet which was filled with unintelligible scribbles, simple spelling and grammar mistakes, and such little, to no, punctuation that the end of one line ran on into the next. “This simply will not do.”

“Wh–Pardon? I did the lines, like you said?”

“I suppose you may have…technically. Though I cannot tell from the state of this travesty.” She said with a sneer as she held the corner of the paper in her well manicured hand as if it were a piece of refuse. “You will have to start over, I’m afraid.”

“What? But I did what you told me to.”

Beatrice fixed Chloe with a hard look, “In spirit perhaps. But this is completely illegible and I simply will not accept this. Begin again.” Her hard expression remained stern but softened slightly with a sharp inhale. “If your next attempt is sufficiently legible then and only then may you call yourself truly finished.” Chloe grumbled and rolled his eyes, but knew if he argued or fought back too much the alternative was much harsher than simply writing dumb lines like a six year old. Beatrice quietly returned to her seat, ignoring Chloe’s grumbling, and placed the offending scribbles under her legal pad before making another note to inquire about the possibility of a tutor for her granddaughter. ‘Hopefully we can repair whatever damage the dreadful public education system has done to a bright young girl.’

It took two more attempts and another hour and a half before Chloe’s writing was deemed sufficient enough. “At least it is legible this time.” Beatrice said with a stern expression before neatly folding the sheet of paper and placing it on the table in front of her as Sheffield approached the pair. “Just in time for lunch I see.” 

“Yes, mum, and your guests have arrived and are waiting in the parlor.”

“Guests?” Chloe asked.

“Splendid.” Beatrice cheered in her familiar faux enthusiasm, ignoring Chloe’s question as she continued, “And you know; It is such a lovely day I believe we would all enjoy having lunch out here in the solarium. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Wonderful idea, madame. I shall inform the staff to prepare the solarium at once.” Sheffield said with a small bow before turning to hold the door open for the two women

Beatrice noticed the confusion in her granddaughter’s eyes before grasping her by the shoulder and leading the feminized man out of the solarium. “Chin up, darling. We must not keep our guests waiting.” 

For the briefest flash when Sheffield opened the wooden sliding door to the parlor and he saw Mark sitting in one of the antique swayback chairs Chloe hesitated at the sight of the older man, worried that he might be readying to spank him again or have another more detailed talk about sex. Unsure which would be the worst of the two outcomes. That was until he took in the three guests who sat across from his fake father who all stood at the sound of the door’s opening.

“Chloe,” Beatrice said through her saccharin sweet smile as she ushered the feminized man by the shoulders to the center of the room “I trust you remember my good friend, Delilah Fulbrette.” 

“Sooo good to see you again.” The elderly woman cooed as she quickly kissed the air beside Chloe’s cheeks.

“How wonderful to see you again, as well Mrs Fulbrette.” Chloe cheered, matching the older woman’s faux cheer.

“And, of course, her wonderful grandson, William.”

“Of course.” Chloe forced his face into a polite smile as he allowed William to delicately take his hand. A memory immediately sprang to the front of his mind of the two of them on the front steps just a few nights ago, as William kissed the back of his hand, sending a shiver up Chloe’s arm.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Chloe.” William smiled.

Chloe’s eyes darted away from William’s and he stamped down on the mistaken memory. He was obviously drunker than he had thought that night or his memory was simply poisoned by his current lack of relief. After the attempt to relieve himself in the shower the previous morning his day had been jam packed with poetry, music practice, walking practice, dance practice, and even makeup practice, so that by the time he was forced to go to bed, at his new earlier bedtime, he was so exhausted mentally and physically he passed out after putting the soothing lotion on his butt. That morning hadn’t allowed him for any relief time either. It completely explained why his memory was mistaken. He knew he wouldn’t have pulled William into him as they made out like a pair of horny teenagers.

The woman beside William suddenly cleared her throat and William’s smile became as polite and saccharin as everyone else’s. “Ah, yes, Chloe.” William’s voice once again took on a sort of plastic sheen that reminded Chloe of their first meeting at the charity ball, “Allow me to introduce Vivian Albrecht. My mother. Mother, this Chloe Pasini.” 

Chloe’s eyes widened imperceptibly at what he now realized was obvious now that he considered the woman. This new woman may not have shared the blonde colored hair like her son. They did share the same deep blue eyes and, the now, unmistakable mess of curls. Albeit Vivian’s ended at the small of her back, much longer than her son’s, the color of which put Chloe in mind of swirling chocolate he had seen in any number of candy bar commercials or ads.

Without thinking, Chloe grabbed the hem of his pleated skirt and dropped into a curtsey as he shook the older woman’s hand. He cursed himself for the strange habit of training and the grin that spread across her face. Chloe reddened as he looked back up at William’s mother as his thoughts raced sporadically. ‘I can’t believe I just did that. Why the hell am I meeting his mother?! All that stupid training for the ball. Her hair looks great. He didn’t tell her we made out, did he?! What guy would tell his mom that? Should I say something? Should I tell her how amazing her flipped curtain bangs look on her? Why is she here? Ugh, I hate I even know what those are! Nothing else to read but poetry and fashion mags. I think I’m supposed to say something though.’ With no experience meeting a girl’s mother, or boy’s for that matter Chloe had no choice but to once again rely on the training provided by Beatrice and Sheffield. “G-good afternoon, Mrs Albrecht. It is truly a delight to meet you.”

“It is absolutely wonderful to meet you as well, Chloe, darling.” She said with an outwardly warm smile, except for the shiver that ran through Chloe, putting him in mind of a shark who had caught a whiff of blood in the water. 

“I can certainly see the resemblance now. Your hair is absolutely beautiful, Mrs Albrecht.” Chloe giggled.

Vivian chortled happily, “Why thank you darling. I must say, darling, you are every bit as charming and beautiful as William has told me. And it is Miss, darling. I divorced William’s father when he found his little girlfriend, Candy.”

“Her name is Kaitlynn, mother.”

“Oh yes, that’s the one.”

Chloe instinctively took stock of the woman as well during their introduction. Right away he could tell she was not the type that would fall for a short con. She was too well guarded against that. Her type thought they were smarter for it, even now he could feel her examining for any tell, any flaw that might alert her defenses. His initial shock at seeing her had unintentionally aided his disguise and blinded the woman with her own presumptions. But it was still hard to feel too confident when he compared himself with Vivian.

Finally given the freedom to pick out his own outfits, what little freedom that was, he decided if he was going to be treated like a schoolgirl in detention he might as well dress the part with a sleeveless white notch neck blouse and a purple pleated plaid knee length skirt. Originally he thought the look on his grandmother’s face would be funny enough to make the humiliating outfit worth it. But since she gave no reaction to his manner of dress, coupled with the much more maturely dressed beautiful woman in front of him now, he couldn’t for the life of him find the humor in his idea either.

While Chloe seemed every bit the teenage girl he was masquerading as, Vivian seemed a giantess that easily towered over the feminized man in her pretty white tie-neck sleeveless blouse that hugged a pair of full breasts, before it was pulled in at her thin waist by her red pencil skirt. Her height, he realized, was owed in part to her shoes, a pair of black five and a half inch rounded toe stilettos with a slight hidden platform that he thought just about any woman would look sexy in, William's mom was no exception.

After completing their initial greetings Sheffield entered the parlor once again and informed them that lunch was ready to be served. Much to the starving Chloe's delight. His hunger was such that he could ignore the fact that William had taken hold of his hand again as they all walked out into the solarium. 

Along the long clothed table, Chloe was sat so he was facing the beautiful topiary outside and across from Mark, with William to his right, across from Vivian. Both matriarchal grandmothers seated at the end of the table, with Delilah between her grandson and former daughter in law at one end and opposite Beatrice at her usual position at the head of the table.

The conversation had died down until their food had been placed before them. “Today,” Sheffield began from his position at Beatrice’s side. “Chef has prepared an appetizing dish of goat cheese and quail eggs and caviar on melba toast to start. Which will then be followed by a piquant seaweed salad. Finally a delectable soupe de poisson.” 

Chloe, as starving as he was, simply stared at the eggs on his plate. He had thought the miniscule morsels had been strictly something for the charity ball alone but obviously this was not the case. ‘I’ll never understand why, if you have money, why don’t you actually fill your plate?’ Seeing everyone else begin to eat after the introductions of the food had finished Chloe followed suit, giving the quail egg a cursory sniff as he picked it up.

“Now you simply must tell me where you’ve been hiding yourself, Chloe.” Vivian cooed.

Chloe hesitated and sat the egg and toast back on the plate. “Not exactly hiding.” He said with a fake smile and giggle, “I used to live in California with my mom. We only moved here recently.”

“Oh, I simply love the shopping in Beverly Hills, don’t you?” Vivian cheered.

“Actually,” he said, remembering to speak in the polite and cordial manner he had been taught before continuing, “I grew up in Modesto before she kic–before she passed so I did not get a chance to get out that way.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear. When did she pass?” Vivian asked.

“When I was twelve. That’s when I moved in with my father…and now we’re here.” He said, smirking at Mark across from him.

“You weren’t? As I recall you and Mandy were quite the item.” Vivian asked Mark who had polished off his eggs.

Mark wiped his mouth before answering, “I. Not at the time no. Amanda and I…we didn’t work out.”

“That is tragic.” Vivian pouted. “But at least some good came out of such a tragedy.”

“How do you mean?” Mark asked.

“Well, had you not been so obstinate in your pursuit of the Pierson girl you would not have your daughter, or if your relationship had worked out you might not have come to live here again. And your daughter would not have met my son. And they would not be beginning their own relationship. And likely we would not be here today.”

Chloe had not been consciously listening once the conversation had turned to Mark, instead examining the quail egg and wondering if he was supposed to eat it like a cracker or disassemble it and eat it that way when he caught the sight of someone in the distance dropping ungracefully over the fence. As the person drew closer Chloe could make out the leather jacket as it flitted between shrubbery and topiary until he realized he recognized the jacket and the idiot wearing it. Thinking quickly, Chloe spilled the small plate of eggs into his lap. “I, uh, beg your pardon–” Chloe said as he jumped to his feet– “but I need to–” In the distance; Spencer jumped over a low bush as he ran towards Chloe’s room and failed to clear its width. Chloe choked on his laughter and covered his grin–“I need to take care of this.” Chloe cleared his throat, hoping to cover his chuckle as he hurried away from the table. Not waiting for permission to be excused.