Mothers and Daughters Pt. 08

After they changed trains at the Schlump station, Martha started making plans for all the things they were going to do – she would take Briana back to the zoo, and go see the botanical gardens they didn't make it to, and go see a live theatre show, and ... Nate decided to let her scheme without pointing out that all these activities require money, and she had none. He was not willing to immerse himself in the day-to-day details before he completely understood the situation.

They walked home from the Landungsbrucken station hand-in-hand, and Martha was skipping and hopping like a seven year old schoolgirl. She was babbling about how things were going to be different between her and Briana, how she would make things better. Nate was developing serious concerns about the magnitude of the crash to reality Martha faced in her near future, but now was not the time or the place.

As they stepped inside the apartment, Nate reminded Martha to remove her underwear. She was so consumed by everything Briana that he figured she would have completely forgotten. It also served as a reminder, Nate hoped, of the obligations she still owed to Nate.

Martha fell silent, and she reached up her dress with her hands on both sides, and tugged the underwear down her legs, and then she picked them up.

"Strip," Nate ordered as he closed the door to the hallway.

Martha looked harshly at Nate, but then closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and slipped off her white denim jacket. Next she pulled the white spandex top over her head, revealing her perfectly shaped tits. Finally, she unzipped the back of her dark red skirt, and shoved it down her thighs. She stepped out of the skirt, then took off her shoes, and stood Naked before Nate.

"Go to the center of the room and wait for my inspection," Nate pointed into the apartment. Martha padded naked across the floor, and then drew her hands behind her head and spread her feet wide apart. Nate pulled off his sports coat and laid it over the back of a chair. He stood across from Martha without saying a word for several seconds.

"Martha, I want you to just listen. Don't speak until I tell you, and do not move from this position. Do you understand?" Martha looked at Nate for two full seconds, and then nodded her head. She remained standing naked with her hands drawn behind her head and her feet wide apart. Nate did not touch her.

"I know you're excited," Nate began, "and you have every right to be. You have sacrificed and risked a lot to make it to this point. If it were not for you, Briana would stay in AeB custody, and eventually she would be sent to general detention, and await her conviction." He paused for a moment. "You probably feel many things about yourself right now, and I hope pride is one of them. None of this would have happened without you."

"We need to look at certain truths," Nate shifted course. "The truth is, you resorted to tough love with Briana not because you are a bad parent, but because Briana gave you no other option. The truth is Briana took a large amount of money from you that she never repaid, and that action hurt you. The truth is, Briana created the situation she is in with the London School of Economics, and if it weren't for her carelessness and disregard, she would be home now, and you would not be here. The truth is, Briana lied to you, she lied to me, and she lied to Pavlina." Martha's face hardened as she listened to Nate's condemnation of her only daughter.

Nate waited for it all to sink in. "The truth is, Martha, Briana is her own worst enemy, and she has demonstrated she cannot be trusted." Martha darted a mean look at Nate, but she felt a crack split her emotional armor.

Nate waited again. "The truth is, Martha, you know all of this already. The truth is, Martha, you know things will not change by themselves, and you know in your heart of hearts that, as long as you come charging to her rescue, Briana will never learn." The crack in her armor deepened, and Martha felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She wanted to wipe the tear away, but she knew she was not allowed.

Now Nate approached Martha. He started poking her on her chest bone with his index finger, drumming on the firm skin lightly between her naked breasts. "Just nod yes or no to my questions," Nate instructed her as he continued repeatedly poking her breastbone.

"Do you like it when I do this?" Martha shook her head no.

"If I did this all the time, would that make you angry?" She nodded yes.

"So is it my fault that I am doing this to you?" She nodded yes. "That's where you're wrong," Nate continued poking her on her breastbone. Martha was getting really mad. "Because you never told me to stop, so how can it by my fault? How do I know this bothers you if you don't tell me?" He continued poking her on the chest, but a little harder. "You are allowed to tell me to stop, but don't move from your position,"

"Stop," Martha said, but Nate kept on poking her.

"Stop, please," she tried again, but he kept on poking her harder.

"PLEASE STOP!" she cried out, but Nate continued poking her, a little harder.

"OH MY GOD, WILL YOU STOP!" she yelled, but he only poked her harder.

Briana pulled her hand away from her head, grabbed Nate's wrist, and pushed it away "STOP POKING ME YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" she screamed.

"Yes," Nate smiled, "I am Briana poking you. I have been poking you for longer than you can remember. You have been asking me to stop. You have been begging me to stop, but I didn't. I just keep poking you. I am Briana poking you. You have flown 4,000 miles to rescue me, and I am still poking you, and you know it." Nate paused. "You broke Nate's rule just now, and you know it will cost you dearly, but you broke it anyway, because you know that's the only way you are going to change the cycle of his bad behavior. I am Briana poking you, and the truth is you have known for a long time you need to change the rules if you are going to stop Briana's cycle of bad behavior."

"Oh my God!" Martha buried her face in her hands and sat down on the floor cross legged, crying. "Please don't tell me all this."

Nate waited a few minutes until Martha stopped crying. "Stand up," he ordered, "stand for inspection, and take your punishment."

"No," Martha shook her head at the floor.

"Do it, or Briana doesn't come home tomorrow." Martha looked up at Nate's face. He was serious, and she knew it.

"What's the use?" she sighed as she collected herself from the floor, and with exaggerated apathy and disinterest, she resumed her naked position with her hands behind her back and her feet wide apart, but this time her shoulders had fallen and her head was hanging low.

"Head up high," Nate ordered, "chest out, tummy in." Briana released an obvious sigh of resentment, which Nate ignored, and she fixed her posture to Nate's pleasing.

Nate stood across from her. "Here comes your punishment," he said, and he stepped forward, put both arms around her neck, pulled her in, and kissed her long on the mouth. She reluctantly kissed him back, but kept her eyes wide open, and darted them all around, alert to what the real punishment might be."

Nate pulled back. "Let's do that again," he said, "but this time, close your eyes and do everything properly." He kissed her again, and she let herself go, closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and kissed Nate for a long time. He rubbed her back affectionately, but not sensually. Finally he pulled away.

"Here is another truth," he said. She rolled her eyes. "No, stay with me," he urged her, rather than commanding her. She looked at him skeptically. "The truth is, you think you are not strong enough to do this, but you are wrong. You are stronger and braver than many soldiers I fought beside." He waited. "You think you are not smart enough, but you are wrong. When it comes to figuring out people, you make Einstein look like small soap dish." She smiled at that. "The truth is, you think you are alone, but Martha, you are not alone," and he kissed her again. She kissed him back this time properly.

"May I speak now," she asked weakly. Nate nodded. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I can help you," he offered.

"You!" she retorted with her hands still behind her back. Nate Nodded. "You, who sodomized me and my daughter, who extorted sex from us – you're going to help?"

"I did not make anything you or Briana do anything against your will," Nate reminded her.

"You took advantage of a power dynamic," Briana dropped her hands to her side and brought her feet together. "You exploited our lack of money."

Nate shook his head. "What!" Martha demanded.

"Do you remember coming into this apartment only two days ago, taking off all your clothes, and then telling me your tits, pussy, asshole, and mouth are mine?" She nodded embarrassedly. "And now you now know this whole thing was Briana's idea – she offered herself up to me in the first place?" Martha waited.

Martha paused in thought. "You could have called me."

"Briana told me you were not talking," Nate retorted. "She told me you had cut her off for good after she stole a huge pile of money from you, although she seemed to have some bizarre rationale how it wasn't her fault. I didn't see how any good could come from poking the hornet's nest. Be honest, Martha, if you had received a message from someone you barely knew – 'your daughter is in trouble, send more money' – would you have done anything?"

"I am uncomfortable talking about this naked," Martha protested. "Can I get dressed?" Nate allowed it, and while she dressed he continued. "What else could I do? Turn her away, which, according to you, is what a man of character would do, because we both know that the man who loans money to that girl is a sucker and an idiot." He paused. "So, I could have been your man of high moral standing, and sent Briana on her way. In retrospect, I should have done that, because she has turned out to be more trouble than I bargained for." Martha tried not to feel insulted. "But that would leave Briana in jail, and it would leave you with no means to get her out. So tell me what kind of man am I, when you remember I never asked for any of this, and I always keep my promises?"

Martha thought a while. "You didn't have to go anal," she complained once she was back in her red skirt, white spandex top, and white jacket.

"Yes I did," Nate retorted, "because she raised the cost when her defaulted school loan came into play. She needs to learn that, whenever she does something stupid that costs other people, she pays at least some of the price, or did you not learn anything when I poked you on the chest?"

"So ..." Martha paused in thought. "You mean anal was just ... what ... you were teaching her a lesson?"

"In part," Nate nodded. "I won't deny a certain ... ah ... attraction to it, but I was perfectly fine with her original 'no anal' restriction before the school loan bit her in the ass."

"So you chose anal because that was the one thing she said 'no' to originally."

"How did you get me to stop thumping you on the chest," Nate reminded her. "You broke the rules."

"About that," Martha remembered a forgotten thread, "my punishment is a kiss?"

"Oh no," Nate smiled. "Your punishment will be me supporting you, coaxing you, and making you turn Briana into a respectful person. Trust me," Nate ventured, "when it's all done, you would have preferred that we did anal all the time."

Martha stared at Nate a long time. "You are one warped motherfucker," she pronounced.

"I've been called worse," he smiled honestly.

"I'm still pissed at you for sexually exploiting my daughter," she chided, "even if she did offer herself to you."

"Get over it," Nate said. "Like I told Briana, both you and she can walk away any time, although the bond complicates that now. I have never, ever held either of you against your will, or made you do things that you did not consent to in advance."

"But you keep my wallet, my passport, my money," she complained.

"And you can have them back any time," he reminded her. "But as Briana needs to learn, and pretty fucking fast, there is a cost to making decisions." Nate paused. "That's not exploitation, as you put it. That's simple commerce in its purest form."

"But you're now willing to go beyond commerce," Martha observed. "You're willing to help me turn Briana around. What part of commerce is that? What do you get out of it?"

"I'm not doing that for commerce," Nate corrected her.

"Why are you doing it, then?"

Nate paused, and flushed a bit. "I'm doing it because I like you."

"You ... you like me?" She blurted with disbelief. "You don't even know me." Then she changed her mind. "Well, in some ways you know me better than any man ever did." She paused in thought again. "Hell, you have your way with me all the time, what's not to like?"

"It's not about the sex," Nate objected. "You risked and sacrificed everything for your daughter, and that makes you special," he said. "You are the most beautiful person on the inside I have known for a long, long time." Martha wondered if she was being compared to Stephanie, but didn't dare ask.

"So ... you're not helping me just so that you can fuck my daughter," she confirmed.

"I hope to never see her again after she discharges her AeB obligation."

"But ... while we are here, you will continue a sexual relationship with both of us," she confirmed.

"As we agreed," Nate nodded, "We need to hold her to her word, otherwise we enable the cycle of bad behavior"

"Quite the sacrifice you're making for the cause," she quipped sarcastically.

"Yes," Nate nodded earnestly, "so far to the tune of 50,000 Euros." That rebalanced Martha's perspective. That was more cash than she could ever amass, even in her best years.

She looked around the room. "Look, I know you're trying to help, but I'm really tired. Can I have a rest for a while, and then we go out for dinner?"

"Sure," Nate smiled. "Go ahead upstairs, and have rest. But you need to think about what I told you."

"I know," she nodded, "but there's a big gap between realizing something needs to change and knowing the right thing to do."

"Start with the simple things," he said. "Promise only what you can deliver, deliver what you promise." She nodded vaguely and head up the stairs. Nate went to his office to make dinner reservations and to check his email. He opened his personal laptop. Brandt's detailed message was waiting, and it held a surprise. Nate saw it as good news – he was guessing Martha might view it differently.

He checked the restaurants. Many of the best ones were closed Sunday. He called The Table restaurant in the HafenCity district and made a reservation for 8 PM. Then Nate opened his work laptop, and plowed through some emails that had accumulated over the weekend.

At 7:15 Nate closed his computer and went upstairs and changed. Martha was already in her spectacular black dress, and she was applying makeup in the bathroom. "I wish I had some high-heeled shoes," Martha called from the bathroom. When he finished changing, Nate went to the hallway cupboard and retrieved four pairs of high heeled shoes, and took them to the bathroom. Two were black, one blue, and one red. Nate set them on the floor. "See if one fits," she offered.

"Do I want to know where these are from?" Martha asked. The blue pair was Briana's, Nate explained. One black pair was Pavlina's – she didn't take them. The other black pair and the red pair once belonged to Kate, his ex-girlfriend. Martha knew Briana's shoes would not fit. She tried Pavlina's black ones, but they were too small. Kate's black shoes were snug, but doable, and the red shoes were perfect, except they were red. Martha opted for Kate's black shoes.

"Would you do me a favor, and you are allowed to say no," Nate asked Martha. She looked at him. "Don't wear underpants tonight."

"Warped motherfucker," she mumbled to herself, and went back to applying her makeup. Nate didn't know if that meant yes or no, but decided he could live with the mystery.

Martha was looking at herself in the mirror as she applied her makeup. She noticed Nate standing behind her in the mirror, and suddenly Martha froze. "Nate," she looked at him in the mirror, "did you record our first time together in your apartment, like you recorded Briana, when I made my ... ah ... my offer to you?" He nodded in the mirror. "How much did you record?" she asked.

"I turned on the recorder when you were in the bathroom," Nate explained, "and I needed to use my phone to call Thomas Brandt," Nate explained, "so I recorded everything in between."

Martha replayed the sequence of events in her head, then she lowered her head, unable to look at herself in the mirror. "Including the blowjob I gave you," she confirmed, staring down the depth of the stainless steel drain in the white porcelain sink.

"It kind of sealed the deal," Nate smiled.

Martha rested both hands on the side of the sink, still staring at the drain. "Promise me you won't ever share that with recording anyone else,"

"I promise I will never share it with anyone else, unless I have to defend myself if you lie about our arrangement," Nate assured her, justified his sharing of Briana's voice recording with Martha. Martha nodded her hanging head with her hands still resting on the sides of the sink.

Nate left the bathroom and finished getting ready. Martha came out a few minutes later, and went to her bags of purchased from the day before, and put on her earrings and pendant. "How do I look?" she posed for Nate.

She was stunning. Her shoulder length brown hair lightly brushed her delicate shoulders. The makeup she applied was subtle – it highlighted her cheek bones without looking artificial. The lace pattern dress was spectacular. Even Kate's high heel shoes worked. "You are gorgeous," Nate smiled. "I will be the envy of every man at the restaurant tonight," he promised.

Martha waved at him dismissively. "I wish I had a shawl," she said. Nate showed her Briana's blue shawl, but Martha rejected it – it did not match her ensemble. She put on her black jacket with faint white stripes.

They walked together down the stairs, Nate insisting she lead. He locked the door on the way out. They walked down the hall together, but this time, Nate stopped at the glass elevator shaft and pushed the call button. When the doors opened, they stepped inside, and Nate pressed the garage level. They watched their surroundings rise above them as the clear glass elevator descended into the depths of the building. The elevator opened into a narrow hallway, and Nate turned left, leading Martha to an underground parking garage with cars lining both sides of the walls. Near the end, a small black SUV chirped it's flashing lights as Nate unlocked it from his keys. Nate had backed it into its spot, so he walked around the car to the passenger side and opened the door for Martha, and closed it once she was safely inside. He returned to the driver's side and climbed in.

"What kind of car is this?" Martha asked.

"Audi Q7 Turbo Diesel Intercooled," Nate answered dryly.

"Okay," Martha offered uncertainly – he lost her after Audi. She did not know cars. "It looks very nice." It was immaculate inside. "Is it new?"

"I got it when I got the apartment," Nate explained, "so yeah, about seven months old. He started the diesel engine, and looked at the odometer. "Just over four thousand kilometers," he noted to himself. "I don't use it that often."

Nate configured the transmission to standard gear selector mode, put the car into first gear, and gently pulled out of the parking spot. Up on the street, Nate selected the GPS map from the virtual pilot display, and navigated his way to The Table restaurant. They were headed for a quirky area of town where the streets are lined with large, rectangular industrial buildings devoid of any architectural imagination. When they arrived, Nate pulled into the parking lot, and Martha shot nervous looks out the windows in all directions. "Are you sure this is it?" she asked apprehensively.