Aunt Monica - Chapter 1

Author's note: this story is heavily inspired by one from a few
years ago titled Summer Slave. One scene in particular is lifted
almost completely: this is meant as nothing less than flattery.
Please send any comments to Goddess_Agony at yahoo.com

Ff Ff+ fsolo D/s sad tort teen best fist

Chapter 1 - New Home

Angela found herself staring out of the tiny, scratched window of
the plane as it began its descent, gazing down at the tiny houses
below and watching them grow larger, swelling up far too
suddenly. Her stomach lurched as the plane dropped further and
further, leaning forward unconsciously, her eyes wide. Surely
they were too low, the tops of the buildings seemed almost within
reach. For one sickening second she was certain something was
wrong, that they were going to graze the tops of the houses
below, and crash into the ground. Would that be the worst thing?
The thought flashed across her mind, and she felt tears welling
up behind her eyes again. She shook her head, yanking it back and
sliding the plastic cover over the window, turning to face
straight ahead, her breathing heavy.
	The man next to her smiled at her vaguely, but she barely
noticed. She couldn't bring herself to smile back anyways, as she
mentally braced herself. It was the first time the fourteen year
old girl had ever flown, and she had no idea what to expect for
the landing. Suddenly there was a jolt, bouncing her up in her
seat, and then she could feel the plane rolling, the wheels
vibrating up through the steel body. Was that it? It was over?
She let out the smallest of breaths.
	Around her she could hear other nervous fliers sighing with
relief, starting to talk. She caught snatches of a phone call,
and the man next to her, easily in his forties and dressed up in
a deep blue business suit, leaned back in his seat, visibly
relaxing. The pit in the bottom of her stomach wouldn't go away
though; it had sat there, hard and painful, for almost four
months now. It was difficult, even now, to keep herself from
getting lost in memories. Her mind went back, to how it felt when
she was sitting in her classroom and the principle had first
knocked on the door. First told her to come with him. She didn't
understand the expression on his face. Not until he told her
about the accident.
	She realized with a start that it was happening again. Forcing
herself out of the horrible daydream she stood up, realizing that
the plane was emptying around her. As she twisted awkwardly to
grab her backpack from the overhead bin the young girl promised
herself that things were going to be different now. She set her
chin out defiantly as she filed slowly out of the plane, but the
knot in her stomach still twisted.

	The airport was a bewildering maze of noise and color, much
larger than the one she'd flown out of. Disoriented, she found
herself struggling through the crowd looking for any signs or
maps. One large overhead display pointed her to the baggage
claim, but as the long corridors stretched on she found herself
checking the signs repeatedly, almost in a panic. The sheer size
of the place made her feel very small, a young girl in jeans and
a ragged t-shirt, clutching one of the straps of her backpack
tightly as she turned at an intersection, looking for any
direction. Her heart almost leaped as she saw what could only be
a set of doors leading out into the main terminal and she
practically ran forward, slipping through them and out into the
glass ceilinged atrium.
	Her eyes scanned the crowd of people waiting at the exit,
looking for a face she hadn't seen in almost ten years. Suddenly
it jumped out at her, narrow, almost bony, framed by shockingly
blond hair, dressed in a simple white blouse and a long black
skirt, looking at one of the other doors. She found herself
racing forward, breaking into a run for the last dozen feet until
she almost barreled into the woman, wrapping her arms around her
tightly, grabbing at her like a lifeline. She realized she was
sobbing, her chest heaving, taking in great gulps of air, tears
rolling down her face for the first time in weeks as her aunt
almost cried out in surprise, before wrapping her own arms around
the shaking girl.
	Monica recognized the girl running towards her just in time to
turn before being grabbed in her arms, realizing instantly that
the girl was crying, and desperately trying to keep herself
quiet. She wrapped her arms around her niece in return, running
one hand up to the back of her head as the girl buried her face
in her chest. She tried to think of something to say, her own
heard jumping in her chest, before realizing it was best to stay
silent, just rocking her gently as the young girl shook against
her.
	The two of them stood, wrapped in a tight embrace, for long
minutes, alone in the crowd in their grief as other passengers
found parents, children, spouses and cried out in happiness or
laughed in delight. Finally Angela loosened her grip on her aunt,
pulling back just slightly, looking up at her with tear streaked
eyes. A small smile crept across her face, the first she could
remember in months, and her aunt smiled back. She almost loomed
over the girl, and for the first time in ages she felt self
conscious in her two inch heels, shifting backwards awkwardly on
one foot before the moment passed, and she re-adjusted her purse
on one shoulder.
	"I...we should get my luggage Aunt Monica" Angela almost
whispered, her voice hoarse. Monica nodded, of course, turning
around to look for the baggage claim. She reached back and
grabbed Angela's hand, and the teen gripped back ferociously, her
nails almost digging into her flesh, clutching to her as they
wove their way through the crowd to the enormous conveyer belts.
	Monica frowned as she looked up at the screens, running her eyes
down the different flights. Angela's was flashing red without any
number displayed, and she strode over to the desk, irritation
rising, dragging the girl behind her. The bored looking attendant
confirmed that there had been a problem with the transfer at the
connection point and that she could expect to receive an update
on the lost baggage in the next three to five business days.
Monica bit back something particularly nasty and turned around,
bending down slightly to meet Angela eye to eye, staring deep
into her still shaken eyes.
	"We'll get your things back sweetie, don't worry" she said
reassuringly, placing her hands on her shoulders, "and if we
don't don't worry, we can buy you plenty of new ones". Angela
felt her heart sinking at those words, thinking over how many of
her most treasured things were in that suitcase, but she nodded
wordlessly. Monica straightened up, concern still in her eyes.
The girl was in no shape for any more distress. She grabbed one
of her limp hands gently, and Angela found herself clutching back
again, but less tightly, as they turned and walked towards the
exit together.

	The car ride home was silent. Angela didn't seem in any mood to
talk, and Monica left her alone. It wasn't until she pulled into
her neighborhood that Monica noticed the girl straighten up in
her seat, the first sign of life out of her the entire trip. She
smiled slightly to herself as Angela twisted to look out over the
door of the topless car, the breeze catching her black hair
lightly as she stared at the increasingly enormous houses they
were creeping between along a wide and tree lined road.
	As Monica turned into her drive, the iron gates creeping back
automatically, revealing the lawn behind the eight foot tall
hedges, Angela finally found herself speaking up. "You live
here?" she asked almost incredulously, leaning forward to stare
at the enormous brick mansion that sprawled across the lawn in
front of them, wings stretching off from a central structure, ivy
staining the walls with green, white trimmed windows popping.
	"Yes. I'd forgotten, you never did get a chance to visit out
here, did you?" Monica asked as she pulled to a halt, tires
crunching on the gravel, in front of the garage, the low rumble
of the engine turning off. Angela shook her head wordlessly as
she clambered out of the car, pushing hair from her eyes,
suddenly aware of how tear streaked her face must look. Stepping
slowly towards the house she couldn't keep herself from comparing
it to her uncles tiny, filthy ranch house where she'd spent the
last three and a half months. Against everything else she felt a
small flame of hope beginning to kindle. If she was living here
with her aunt and her cousins, maybe things might just be
alright.
	Monica joined her, the two of them striding up to the front
door. She pushed it open with a knowing smile, stepping back to
allow Angela to enter first. Still looking around in awe the teen
almost stumbled inside, and seconds later shrieks of glee erupted
from inside.
Monica slipped through the door, her smile widening at the sight
of Angela almost collapsing under the weight of her two cousins,
sandwiching her in their embrace. The two twins were
indistinguishable, their hair the same pale blond as their mother
and kept long down past their shoulders, their faces alight with
joy. The girls were wearing simple sundresses, one blue and one
yellow, their bare feet almost dancing on the cool tile floor of
the entranceway. The three small figures almost lost in the
enormous space that stretched deep into the house. Monica found
herself slinging her purse off onto the floor to join the three
of them, wrapping her arms around the group. Leaning in, she
allowed herself to whisper "its okay. We're all together now",
and she realized that Angela was crying again, from happiness
this time.
	After a few moments of joy Sandra finally broke out of the group
hug, tugging Sasha out after her. "We made sandwiches!" she
exclaimed, jerking her head back towards the kitchen. She turned
and almost scampered down the hall towards the back of the house,
Sasha giggling as she ran after her. Monica wrapped her arms
around Angela again. "Are you going to be alright?"
	Angela nodded, slipping free from her embrace. "Yeah I think so.
And you know...I am starving" she said with a nervous giggle. She
slung her backpack off and hung it up by one strap on one of the
coathooks, smiling at her aunt before running off to join her
cousins. Monica smiled and began to walk slowly after them.
	By the time she arrived in the kitchen the sandwiches were
already half gone, the three girls devouring them, sitting around
the tiny round table pushed into the breakfast nook. The twins
were excitedly talking about how happy they were to see her and
how great it was that she was arriving right when summer vacation
was starting. Angela still had a more melancholy look on her
face, but as she sat there, mouth full of ham and cheese, she
felt herself relax in a way she'd almost forgotten she could, her
smile widening naturally at the sheer enthusiasm of her cousins.
Something about their appearance was bothering her, but she
couldn't figure out what until she realized that it was clear
neither of them was wearing a bra underneath their thin
sundresses, their small breasts well defined against the thin
fabric. She blushed furiously and took another bite of the
sandwich to cover her reaction, grateful that neither of them
seemed to have noticed. They were also fourteen years old but
their breasts were still fairly small, and she was suddenly very
self conscious about her own unusually large chest. She pushed
the thought away, unsure of where it had come from, focusing her
attention back on what they were saying.
	Monica slid into the nook alongside them, grabbing a sandwich
herself and finishing it quickly while she listened to the girls
talking. When she was finished she interrupted, and the twins
eyes snapped to her, falling silent immediately as she spoke.
	"Angela, we're all so wonderfully happy that you're here with us
now. I hope...I hope that you'll come to love living here as
well," she said with a smile, as her gaze moved to each of the
girls in turn, "Sandra, Sasha, why don't you show her up to her
room, and then give her a tour of the house."
	The twins nodded silently in unison, before turning as one and
slipping out of the nook. Angela was struck by how well they
moved together as Monica picked up the sandwich plate, slipping
out herself and allowing Angela to slide out into the kitchen.
One of the sisters giggled again, beckoning for her to join them
and she stepped forward with a smile, following them back out
into the hall.

	As they walked down the hall, their bare feet sinking into the
thick rug that ran down its length, Angela found herself
nervously asking "er...I'm sorry...but which of you is...which?"
The two girls practically collapsed giggling at that, until the
one in the blue dress said "I'm Sasha", her sister managing to
get out "and I'm Sandra". Angela found herself laughing with
them, although she couldn't quite tell why, as they led her
around and up the enormous staircase that dominated the back half
of the hall. At the top the house stretched out to both the left
and the right, and the girls turned right stopping a few doors
down. Sandra pushed the door open and let Angela step inside, and
Angela's jaw almost dropped as she entered.
	An enormous queen sized bed, luxurious and white, stood on one
side, right alongside a set of giant windows that dominated the
far wall, showing the lawn beyond. The walls were white paneling
and a pale green, a fancy blue rug covered most of the wooden
floor, and next to the bed a positively ancient and antique
looking dresser stood. But the stunning part was the fireplace,
which was of real stone and took up almost half of the wall
across from the bed. Compared to her tiny, cramped room in her
old New York apartment the room felt like it belonged in a
palace.  The twins seemed positively delighted as she almost
staggered forward, collapsing forward onto the bed and staring
out of the windows. "This is my room?" she asked incredulously.
"Yup!" was the reply of two voices in harmony. She rolled over on
her back, staring up at the ceiling, and didn't even notice the
twins creeping up until they had jumped up onto the bed alongside
her. Angela giggled herself as the bed suddenly bowed under their
weight, tracing the pattern of the molding around the edges of
the ceiling, oblivious to how Sasha half reached, as if to caress
her face, and on her other side Sandra quickly shook her head
now. Sasha pulled her hand back, rebuked, and then slid down off
of the bed, saying "come on, we have to show you the rest of the
house!", tugging on Angela's hand. Angela jumped off to join
them, her eyes starstruck, wondering just what else there was to
find in this house.
	As they walked back down the hall, Angela asked "so which rooms
are yours?"
	"Oh, uhm..." Sandra seemed caught off guard by the question, but
she pointed to the door right next to Angela's "we sleep in
there."
"Both of you?" Angela asked, surprised. "But this place is huge,
you don't have your own rooms?"
"Nope!" Sasha exclaimed, and Angela shrugged to herself.

"Mom's room is down that way" Sandra said, pointing down the
other direction from the top of the stairs, "Her office is up
here as well, but there's nothing really interesting there". The
three girls made their way back downstairs and the twins led her
on a dizzying tour through the house. They passed through the
library, where bookshelves stretched up to twelve feet ceilings
and small reading tables hid in corners. Angela practically
squealed herself when she saw the private theater, a fifteen foot
screen and a set of comfortable couches in a dark room, and
stared in amazement at the dining room, where a twenty foot oak
table stretched from end to end, one wall entirely glass,
creeping up to the ceiling like a greenhouse, showing off the
lawn outside.
	"You guys are really fucking rich" she almost gasped as she was
led into the living room via the drawing room, where a small bar
stood against one wall, and the largest fireplace yet was framed
by couches and comfortable chairs.
"I guess" Sandra said, the two sisters holding hands and admiring
Angela's amazed reaction. "It doesn't really feel like we're
rich, but-" "it is pretty cool!" Sasha cut her off.
"How do you keep this place so clean?" Angela marveled, realizing
that she hadn't seen a dusty floor or crooked curtain the entire
time, "there must be an army of maids."
"No maids!" Sandra said proudly, "we keep it clean ourselves!"
"Really!?" Angela turned to look at them, shocked "you keep this
place clean?"
"Yup, part of our chores. Its really not bad when you have a
routine" Sasha giggled at her reaction. Angela felt almost light
headed, turning again, trying to understand just how alien things
here were compared to home.

As they walked back into the main hall Angela ran through
everything she'd seen in her head, and realized something. "Where
do those doors go?" she asked, pointing at the two doors that led
to the west wing of the house. One was an enormous set of French
doors, set near the front of the house, but with thick curtains
drawn over the glass from the other side.
The twins glanced at each other, and then Sandra spoke "more of
mom's work stuff back there. They're locked, so don't worry about
it. Nothing-" "Nothing interesting!" Sasha broke in and then
giggled again. Angela stared at her in confusion as her sister
angrily grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly, and Sasha calmed
herself, putting on a mock authoritative tone. "Nothing back
there but serious work stuff" Angela found herself laughing
alongside them, but her eye was still drawn to the locked doors.
She told herself she'd find a way inside, just to look around,
someday. Just to find out.