Chapter 5: 5. Balcony

MERRITTS: why did you go??

MERRITTS: your lights red. are you really not there?

MERRITTS: i thought youd just gone to fetch something

MERRITTS: ****

I looked at last night’s messages. 

“Phil,” said Tom, tapping his smartwatch. “Time for the retrospective.”

“In a minute,” I snapped. I heard several sharp intakes of breath. Tom didn’t seem sure how to react.

“Okay,” he said, quietly.

I had forgotten to set my status on the chat system.

MERRITTS: pip, are you there?

PIERCEP: yes

MERRITTS: come up

PIERCEP: i have meetings all day

MERRITTS: we should talk

MERRITTS: i enjoyed LN. U seemed 2 too

PIERCEP: i need to work

MERRITTS: afterwards then

I sighed.

PIERCEP: ok

⁂

It was coming up on seven o’clock. I would go upstairs and make it clear that I was just going to do my job. Apologise for… anything else. Maybe she’d fire me? I would promise my silence, of course. But I was in a pretty weak position; trans girl versus billionaire; it wasn’t hard to see which way people would choose. 

Okay. I pushed back from my desk.

⁂

She was on the balcony when I arrived. She was sitting on the stone balustrade, legs dangling over empty air. She was dressed casually; jeans and a sweatshirt.

“I’m trying this,” she said, holding out a vape pen. “It’s… okay, I suppose. But not as cool or stylish.”

“Er, come off the balcony, Sabine.”

“Nah,” she said. “It’s my balcony. It’s my building. Well, technically, we sold it to a subsidiary, who rents it back to us, but you get the idea.”

She took a drag on the vape and blew out a long stream of steam.

“What’s happening, Pip?” she said, still facing away. “Between us, I mean?”

I tried to gather my words.

“I had fun,” she said, contemplatively, “but you just nut and ran.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I mean, if it was a one-time thing, fine, but you could at least say it to my face.”

“That’s fair, I was…” I said. “I was ashamed of being so rough with you.”

She laughed, echoing out over the city. “Rough?” she said. “That wasn’t rough. I’ve been fucked by a mean dyke with a massive strap and a strong left hook. I’ve come with a belt around my neck, and a partner I’m only moderately sure will unfasten it if I go blue for long enough. You weren’t rough.”

“Oh, um, good,” I said. “But, er, it was a one-time thing. Also, that sounds dangerous.”

“Well, duh,” she said. “About the danger, that is. Why was it a one-time thing?” 

“Because,” I paused. “Because I don’t entirely like you.”

She laughed again, kicking her feet over space. “I wasn’t asking you to marry me, Pip. Yes, I know the billionaire-hater has mixed feelings. Catch me.”

“Wha—”

She leant backward and toppled. Inwards, thankfully. I jumped forward, half catching her, so that her upper body didn’t hit the floor. The vape went flying off the building. She was in a strange pose, me clinging onto shoulders and ribs, her legs still resting on the balustrade. 

I awkwardly got her upright, but she continued to lean against me.

“I annoy you,” she said, moving her ass against me. “And you hate the rich. But you find me sexy. And you like me a tiny bit, despite yourself. That’s hot.”

I stood her upright again and backed away. 

“That’s…” I said, hoping that the rest of the sentence would come to me.

She finally turned to face me. “It’s true, isn’t it, what I said?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Great,” she said. “We’re on the same page, so we can fuck.”

“I…” I groped for the right words. “I prefer to sleep with people I really like.”

Sabine frowned. “So you didn’t enjoy it last time?”

“Well, yes, sort of, I suppose, but—”

“Do you know how many people like me? How many propositions I get on Twitter? I mean, my social media team handles it, but sometimes I look. I can have people who like me with no trouble.”

She stepped close. “Or who resent me secretly, I suppose. But you’re direct; you hate billionaires, you can barely stand me. You will fuck me furiously, like you mean it.”

She put her arms on my shoulders. “And yet you worry about me taking risks.”

“I worry about everyone,” I said.

“Right,” she said. “Even though that’s pointless. Even though everyone includes people you don’t even know.”

“That’s a natural human thing!” I said, exasperated. 

She kissed me, sudden and gentle. “You are so adorable when you’re angry.”

“Don’t…” I said, and shook my head. “I think it’s a stupid idea.”

“Why?” Sabine said. I could feel her body close to mine; arousal and anger combining. “We both enjoyed sex with each other. It is no more complex than that. I don’t need a relationship. You don’t need to defend my chastity. Let’s just fuck.”

I tried to think of an argument. 

“Mistress,” said Curse, from the doorway. “You wanted this one to remind you when it was time for the draw.”

“Yes!” she said. “Fetch a pack. See, Pip, there’s a one in 10,000 chance you won’t have to finish this argument.”

“Do you have to—”

“Hand me the pack, doll,” she said. 

On my way in, I had seen the packs, neatly arranged on several shelves. Curse had picked a pack, and now cut it, before handing it to Sabine.

She took a seat at the metal table, and held a card up so that we could see it.

“Seven of clubs,” said Curse. “No death today.”

“Let’s do another one,” Sabine said, dealing another card.

“Jack of hearts,” said the doll.

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“And another,” she said.

“What—”

She held another card up.

“Eight of spades,” said Curse.

“Again,” she said.

I grabbed her shoulders. “What are you doing?” I asked.

She flipped another card.

“Five of diamonds.”

I pulled her to her feet. “Stop it!”

The wind blew the discarded cards off the table; Curse stooped and caught them, moving improbably fast.

“Make me,” said Sabine. 

“Don’t—”

She grabbed my hand, and pulled it towards her groin. “I’m so wet, Pip. You should take me to bed. But I can keep dealing cards if that’s what you prefer.”

I snatched my hand back and turned to go. I saw her reach for the pack again. 

Before I even realised, I had spun and grabbed her shoulders again.

Oh fuck.

I pressed her against the balustrade and unbuttoned her jeans, yanking them and her panties down her legs. She was right about being wet. I flipped her shoes off, and pulled the jeans and panties off. She shivered; it was a warmish night, but the balcony was high up. I didn’t worry.

I turned her again, bending her over the balustrade. Her hair was short, or I would have grabbed that, instead I held her sweatshirt, bunched up and awkward.

Behind me, I heard Curse gather up the remaining cards.

I slammed my girldick into her pussy; she gasped, echoing into the night. I thrust again, and again, a brutal rhythm. Sabine cried out, moaning. I tightened my grip on her sweatshirt. 

She came. Shuddering and trembling, gasping and writhing. Or attempting to writhe; my body, the stonework, and my grip held her in place.

It took me a little longer to come; hormones again. My orgasms were a mix of spurts and oozes; neither fully one nor another. But still, a long moment of euphoria, and then the shame crashed back onto me.

I staggered back, crashing down into a metal chair, pulling Sabine back with me. I had fallen out of her, but we were still in messy closeness.

She twisted slightly and kissed my cheek.

“That was really nice,” she said, still a bit breathless.

I didn’t say anything. I was trying to deal with the shame; she said she enjoyed it, brain!

“I had the idea,” said Sabine. “That after you came, you would imperiously fling me over the balcony. It was really hot. Legs flailing, trailing juices until I crumpled on the ground.”

“What?” I said, horrified. “I would never—”

“I know, dork,” she said. “You freak out about the smallest risk; you’re never going to be, like, let’s see if this rich bitch can fly.”

“Right,” I said, grumpily. 

“But it was sexy to think about,” she said. “And maybe thinking there was a one in 10,000 chance. You never know, imp of the perverse, and all that.”

“You’re a billionaire,” I said, still grumpy. “Doing that would probably be imp of the sensible.”

She snuggled into me. “Don’t go,” she said. “Let’s have something to eat, and then you can tell me other ways that you could ruin me.”

I paused. “If you promise not to draw extra cards again. Just what you have to.”

“Okay,” she said. “Though really, it would have been alright. Only a one in two-hundred chance that pack even contained the ace. I was probably fine.”

“It might happen!” I said. “And anyway, are you sure that Serhan didn’t leave all the aces of hearts in? Or add more?”

She laughed.

“You trust him?” I said.

“No,” she said, “but he does not want me to die. I have documents that are ready to go out upon my death; he does not want people to find out what he does in his downtime, and there’s other stuff the FBI and IRS would care about. Friendly enemies, Pip.”

“Wow.” I mostly hated her, but I wouldn’t live in that world for any money. Or maybe I would, but only for the time it took me to give away most of the money, and retire with a modest million.

⁂

I left in the early hours of the morning. Time enough to go home, I thought, have a quick nap, get changed, and come back to work.

As I approached the lift, I noticed that the security guards were asleep, leaning on each other. That was odd. Should I wake them up?

“Hello, Pip,” said Veronika. She was standing in shadow, but walked forward now. She was wearing a dress of dark green. “I have something to show you.”

She walked over to one of the other doors. Sabine’s penthouse only took up about a third of this floor’s space. The rest was posh conference rooms and VPs’ offices.

Veronika did something to the handle of this office, and opened it up. “Jonathan Serhan, Vice President,” the metal label on the door said. Veronika muttered some words, and a dim blue light filled the room. 

The office was rather prosaic compared to Sabine’s. Shelves filled with binders, only a few bits of art—war planes, it looked like—on the wall. Expensive but modest furniture.

“Look in the desk drawer,” Veronika said. “Bottom right.”

There was a rectangular bundle, wrapped in printer paper, and bound with elastic bands. I put it on the desk.

“Open it,” said Veronika.

It was a stack of playing cards. All aces of hearts. I supposed that made sense.

“Count them, Pip.” I sighed and began counting them into piles of ten. There were twenty piles in all.

“Two hundred packs,” said Veronika. “And two hundred aces of hearts.”

“Did I count right?” I said. “There should be one hundred and ninety-nine, shouldn’t there?”

“Interesting, isn’t it?” said Veronika. She leant across the desk and picked the top card from one of the piles. “Why don’t you keep this one, in your pocketbook. A momento.”

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