Author's note: This story includes themes of coercion, reluctance, manipulation, alcohol use, and control.
*****
The girl approached him, eyes downcast. Megan wore a pair of torn, skin-tight jeans and no top. Her soft skin practically glowed with the kiss of summer sun, and a belly-button ring glittered enticingly, calling attention to her toned belly. She kept one arm crossed across her breasts in a doomed attempt at modesty, and walked as slowly as if going to her own execution. As she reached Rob a single tear fell from her cheek.
It was going to be an exquisite afternoon.
***
As recently as a few months ago Megan and Rob had spoken not a word. Rob lived on the same street, and was friendly with Megan's parents, but the girl refused to offer even the most elementary courtesies. If Rob happened to be working in his yard, on his car, or relaxing on his porch Megan would hurry by glued to her phone or would simply ignore him outright. At block parties she'd sulk off to be alone, or with a few select friends.
None of this was unique to Rob or terribly unusual for an eighteen year-old. But in Megan, Rob had immediately sensed alpha bitchiness in its purest form. Here was just the type of girl who evaluated boys strictly on how easily she could manipulate them. And she had all of the feminine tools needed for the job. Slim and leggy with a tight round butt, Megan always flaunted her legs either in short shorts, tight jeans, or leggings. Her breasts were of no more than average size, but her slimness accentuated them, and she had a talent for getting attention with a revealing top or torn tee shirt.
His neighbor's son had related a story to Rob. Erick was a year older than Megan. Last year, as he told the story, Megan had unexpectedly began to flirt with Erick toward the end of the year. She pouted that Erick had ignored her because she was 'only a junior'. Her feelings were really hurt, but if Erick would take her as his date to senior prom all would be forgiven. A few hints that the evening would turn out well were icing on the cake. Erick readily agreed, and went all out with flowers, a fine restaurant, even a limo. Walking through the doors with Megan he had felt on top of the world.
Rob remembered clearly how dejected Erick had been at the telling, how shamed. Once through the doors of the prom, Megan had excused herself to talk to a few of her friends, firmly explaining to Erick he need not follow. Confused, Erick let her go, but after some time tracked her down and asked her to dance. What happened next shocked him. The girl had turned on him angrily, screeching about what a creepy stalker he was and to fuck off. For good measure she had added "Get off me, loser!" Her friends giggled at the cruel trick, but several of Erick's classmates, and even one of the chaperones took notice and approached. His face burning, Erick had fled. Later, on social media Megan had posted photos of the flowers, the fancy restaurant, and the limo, but made no mention of Erick.
So to say that Rob was equally surprised and suspicious when Megan dropped by his house was an understatement. On a late spring Saturday morning Rob had finished mowing and edging and was relaxing on his porch. Megan was wearing a long skirt, and a demure blouse with only one button free. She clutched several textbooks, and had restrained her wavy blonde hair best she could in a ponytail. The effect was ridiculous, like she had performed an Internet search for 'serious school girl' and mimicked it. She stepped up onto Rob's porch.
"Good morning, Mr. McDonnell." she said, somewhat stiffly "How are you?"
Rob was dressed in grass-stained jeans and an ancient concert t-shirt soaked with sweat. "Good morning... Megan, is it?"
"Yes sir." she said. "I'm sorry to bother you."
"Please, have a seat Megan." said Rob, waving toward a wicker chair. "How can I help you?"
Megan seated herself carefully, smoothing her skirt and placing her textbooks with the spines facing Rob. Biochemistry and The Odyssey. "I understand you might be looking for a house sitter this summer."
So that's what it was. Rob had in fact mentioned to Megan's parents that he would be taking several lengthy business trips over the course of the summer. He had a substantial investment in new plantings and wanted them watered regularly. He also didn't like the idea of mail and newspapers piling up; that was an invitation to burglars.
"I am, yes. Are you looking for summer work?" Rob watched her skeptically. Her own father had, in a private conversation, confirmed that Megan was undisciplined and selfish. It was hard to imagine how such a girl could be trusted with even simple responsibilities.
"Oh, yes. I'm saving some money for college." Megan maintained a perky expression with a bland smile, her pale blue eyes wide and attentive.
"Well, I haven't decided for sure, but I can show you around if you like."
Rob gave Megan a brief tour of his home. She showed minimal interest in where to find the spigots and hoses, and even less as he explained how he sorted his mail. But her eyes went wide when she saw his living room with the sprawling leather sectional, loungers, and enormous television. If he wasn't mistaken, her eyes lingered longest on the well-stocked liquor cabinet.
"Your house is beautiful, Mr. McDonnell," she said, quickly following it up with "and your plants are lovely. If you'll excuse me, I really must get to the library. Finals are this week." And with that she was gone, walking primly to the street, then to the right. The library was to the left.
***
Home security systems had once made Rob a small fortune. He had long ago sold his interest in the company, but retained a state-of-the-art system in his own home. Now he watched from his phone while Megan began her afternoon ritual.
Coming through the front door she kicked his newspaper out of the way. The mailbox was overflowing, but she ignored it, dropping her book bag on the way in. Rob changed cameras to follow her progress into his home. No longer bothering with conservative dress, she wore torn jeans as tight as a second skin. On top she wore a loose sleeveless t-shirt with a deeply cut neckline.
As she had every other day this week, Megan headed straight to the liquor cabinet. Swiftly, she poured a large serving of bourbon into a bottle of soda she had brought with her, left the bottle on the cabinet and flopped onto the sofa. Within moments she was tearing open a bag of chips and watching a Hollywood gossip show. She sipped the drink greedily, and in less than fifteen minutes poured another.
Rob smirked, hopping from his car. His supposed ten day business trip to New York had in fact only been for one week. After watching her daily from his hotel, he now watched from just around the corner. The time was right. Pocketing his phone, Rob approached his front door, stealthily slipped in the key, and burst in.
Megan shrieked, flying upright. Rob looked around, feigning surprise at the scene, his eyes falling on the unkempt pile of mail and newspapers, the litter-strewn living room, the open liquor cabinet and finally, Megan. "What is going on here?"
"I... I...," the girl squirmed. "I was just about to..."
"About to what?" Beyond the necessary bit of play acting, Rob felt a touch of genuine anger as he saw in person the complete disrespect Megan had shown his home. "What are you drinking?"
Megan was still flustered, gaping at the drink in her hand as if seeing it for the first time. "It's... it's just a soda", she stammered. She was wearing a peace symbol necklace which now bounced between her breasts enticingly.
"With my liquor." he said, walking to inspect the bottle. It had been full when Rob left for his trip. Now, no more than an inch of spirit remained. Megan began to slink away. "You're drinking booze in my home! This place is a mess. Did you even water the plants?"
