What money can't buy

Chapter 2: Refreshments

by nevermind

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:male #f/f #f/m #humiliation #pov:bottom #sub:female #begging #brainwashing #conspiracy #enslavement #happy_slaves #induction #multiple_partners #ownership_dynamics #scifi #slow_burn #verbal_abuse #wealth
See spoiler tags : #cuckold


2: Refreshments

An hour later Robin found herself once more in the company of Isabel. They were lying on lounge seats next to the pool on the back side of the building, cocktails in hand, enjoying the slight breeze. They had both changed into swimsuits, Isabel wearing a red bikini and Robin sporting a more conservative green two-piece. 

“So… tell me about yourself,” said Isabel.

Okay. Here we go. Robin shrugged, and looked around as she considered what to say. There were hardly any other guests around. Either this was the off season or it was expensive enough to be profitable even with just a handful of visitors at a time. As she let her gaze wander she noticed a female member of the resort staff, clad in all white, standing in the full sun, ready to be called upon. For a moment, Robin was utterly distracted by the sight. The woman was young, and looked almost inhumanly professional in the way she stood there, stoically enduring the blazing heat with nothing but a benign smile on her lips. It was kinda disquieting, to be honest.

She turned her attention back to Isabel. She didn’t want to be rude and stare.

“Not that much to tell,” she said with a sigh and a shrug. “I teach high school, and that’s pretty much it. It’s more than enough to fill all of my time and consume most of my energy.”

Isabel gave her a skeptical look, and for a moment said nothing.

“No,” she said eventually. “I don’t accept that.”

“What?” Robin asked, taken aback.

“I don’t accept that narrative and neither should you.”

“I… uh…”

Isabel sat up more straight. Her face was serious. “There’s no possible way that anyone can ever be described with just one thing! Every single one of us contains so many thoughts and dreams and ideas! Like… imagine the most boring person you could possibly imagine, like… someone that only wears beige, fills out forms in a basement for a living, and never left their hometown ever.”

Robin furrowed her brow, but Isabel was already moving on. “Even that person has all of those things they would be doing if their house burned down or they got kidnapped, or if the right person had kissed them at the right moment or whatever. All of that is still part of them, it just needs to be brought out. I know for a fact that there’s so many quote-unquote ‘boring people’ out there that would suddenly rise to the task if pushed out into the cold water.”

Robin smiled and shook her head noncommittally. “Yeah... I guess,” she said with a chuckle. “I just don’t usually open with my secret hopes and dreams when I meet new people.”

Isabel gave her an impish smile. “Fuck that. Life’s too short. What are you, twenty-eight? Thirty?! You’ll be dead soon, don’t waste what little time you have left.”

Robin chortled. “Funny. Very funny,” she said, deadpan. “At least I don’t have to be back home before curfew.”

For a moment she was afraid that she’d gone too far, but Isabel simply smiled innocently as she took a sip from her straw. “Daddy’s awways so angwy when I’m not in bed when he wikes it.”

Robin blushed, but again couldn’t help but laugh even as shudders of discomfort rolled through her. “Ugh, no! No! No!” she winced, smiling. “Please never ever do that again!”

Isabel shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. Too far. It’s the elephant in the room, though, isn’t it?”

Robin sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “Kinda.”

Isabel pursed her lips, and nodded. “First of all: I’m twenty. Second of all, I just… want to get this out of the way, you know? And… I’d love to tell you that there’s some kind of twist, but there really isn’t. He’s rich and handsome, and I know what I have to offer to that kind of man – and he knows what he’s got to offer me. It’s a tale as old as time – but if it’s any consolation: The terms are clear. I know what’s happening. He knows that I know. No one’s exploiting anyone.”

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the murmurs of the very small number of other guests occupying chairs at the other end of the pool. For a moment, Robin instinctively looked for David, but her husband was fully caught up in a conversation with his brother at the bar. She looked back at Isabel, who was looking at her with large eyes, and let out a sharp sigh.

“Well,” she said. “I guess you really are committed to skipping small talk. Wow.”

Isabel shifted in her chair uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I–”

“No!” Robin interjected. “It’s— refreshing, and I… I respect it. I do. All the power to you if that’s what you want. Take what you can.” She didn’t quite mean it, but there was enough truth to it that she didn’t have too much trouble saying it.

Isabel’s expression brightened. “...give nothing back,” she said, and Robin chuckled softly.

“So…” Isabel said, leaning forward meaningfully. “Tell me about yourself.

Robin smiled, and sighed, and looked up at the sand-colored parasols above them. For a moment she had an existential flash of doubt. She wasn’t boring. She knew that, didn’t she?! But if she wasn’t boring, why had she literally told someone that there wasn’t much to tell about her?

“You’re already thinking too long!” Isabel said. “What would you have done if being a teacher hadn’t worked out?”

“I-”

“-Did you try anything else before? Did you quit? Were you fired? Why?”

“ummm…”

“-What’s the worst thing you’ve ever thought about one of your students? Or parents? What do you have to teach that you disagree with?”

“Wait, I can’t–”

“-What do you like most about yourself? What’s your secret talent? If you wrote a book, what would it be about? Ooh! Did you ever commit a crime?!”

“Shut up!” Robin said, as exasperated as she was amused. “I get it, I get it, I get it! Calm down! I’m sorry for not bursting with barely restrained youthful vigor anymore. I’m thirty-six – so please stop interrupting me before time wastes me away!”

Isabel smiled, and Robin continued. 

“As I was about to say: …I didn’t always want to be a teacher. I teach astronomy, physics, and math, but I initially wanted to get my doctorate. But then I met that fucking guy over there.” 

She pointed to David with a thoughtful smile. “And he was always going on about the virtue of teaching and how he was going to inspire the minds of the younger generation, and I guess it really and thoroughly rubbed off on me because half a year later I found myself applying to the same school as him, and of course they took me because I was frankly overqualified as hell. He told me to finish my doctorate, but back then I knew exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want to stay behind and spend another year getting a title I wasn’t going to use. I wanted to be with him. Right then.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” said Isabel.

Robin looked to the bar. “No. Your boyfriend is still over there.” Haha. ‘Butt’.

Isabel chuckled, and Robin sighed. 

“You’re right, though,” she said. “I guess I still agree. I still believe that it is more worthwhile to teach thousands of learners than to spend decades carving a miniscule niche of highly specialized research that maybe a couple of thousand people in the world can understand – and less than a couple of hundreds will ever read.”

Isabel pursed her lips. “But…”

Robin nodded. “But –  it’s hard. It’s so hard. It’s been only ten years, but… fuck. Half the time they’re not listening, and the other half they don’t understand. Schools have no budget, and what little money they have gets spent on football teams and bulletproof doors. We’re all overworked and understaffed, and the awful, awful truth is that some of the kids just truly, truly suck – and the parents are worse. I know I’m being a judgy asshole but honestly, I…”

She swallowed hard. “I think I want to quit. I think I made the wrong choice. I’m not made for teaching.”

She shuddered. She couldn’t believe that she’d just said that.

What followed was a long, thoughtful silence. It didn’t even feel awkward, honestly. It felt… appropriate. After that kind of truth bomb, no one should be coming up with a quick answer. 

Eventually Robin looked at Isabel with a weak smile, and shrugged. “Maybe if I quit right now, I’ve got another two or three good years left in me before I wither away.”

Isabel laughed, and took Robin’s hand. “No joke, Robin. No sarcasm, even if it sounds like it: It’s not too late, you know. Like, literally. Actually.”

Robin looked over to the bar again. Fabian had his hand on David’s shoulder, gesticulating wildly in some kind of excited argument that probably amounted to nothing but hot air. David was bearing it like a champ. She didn’t understand how he did it. She guessed that growing up with him must have somehow made him immune to the bullshit. He was so well acclimated that he actually managed to see the good of him. 

For a moment she tried to imagine how he would react if she told him that she wanted to quit teaching. Her mind drew a blank. On one hand he was one of the most understanding people she knew, but on the other hand she would be telling him that he had been all wrong about her and that one of the most fundamental truths of their relationship would no longer exist.

“I don’t think he’ll care.”

Robin snapped out of her thoughts, and looked at Isabel. “What?”

“I don’t think David will care. Or at least, he shouldn’t. You should be able to do what you truly love. Get your doctorate. Sell pottery. Make Youtube videos. Drive race cars. Whatever! If he loves you, he’ll support you and accept you.”

Robin sighed. “Not that easy, though. Who’s gonna pay rent? Who’s gonna pay for groceries. On one salary?”

Isabel narrowed her eyes and shrugged innocently. “You know who. He’s got more money than he knows what to do with.”

No. Not happening. Not from that douchebag. “We don’t want his money,” Robin said.

Isabel took a deep breath, and her demeanor suddenly changed. It was as if a mask had fallen off of her. Suddenly, her tone was deadly serious.

“Do you think you’re better than me, Robin?”

“...what?!”

“Because if you are better than me, you definitely deserve his money more than I do. And if you aren't, you might as well swallow your fucking pride and take his charity.” She leaned in closer. “Do you know how fucking lucky you are? You can have everything you’ll ever want, and he’ll just give it to you, on a silver platter. You don’t even have to fuck him – not that that’s even a bad experience. Most people would give everything to have the opportunity you have, and you… you just throw it away. Ever think about this: You could ask him and beg him until he’s given you every cent he’s willing to give – and give it all to charity.” 

Robin was speechless. Isabel’s tone wasn’t even hostile or condescending. If anything she sounded in disbelief that Robin had never thought about any of this.

“You’ll be off the same as you were before – and you’ll have made the world a better place! Hell, take just one percent. I bet he’s good for at least fifteen million before he even considers turning off the faucet or attaching any actual strings. That's a hundred-fifty grand. But even if you take ninety-nine percent for yourselves you will still have done more good than by letting the money sit in Fabian Belmont’s bank account.”

She looked at Robin with her big, beautiful eyes, and Robin’s thoughts were tumbling end over end. “Taking from the rich isn’t just moral,” Isabel said. “It’s virtuous. Take what you can, give nothing back.”

She cocked her head and smiled. “But maybe that’s just my youthful naiveté. Anyway… it’s either that, or I’m a little whore. Who’s to say? I’m gonna get another free drink. D’you want anything?”

Robin swallowed hard. “I… I’m good. Thanks.”


“Come on man, seriously,” said Fabian. “What’s she like in bed? I’m not going to stop asking.”

“And you’ll never know,” said David, shaking his head with an exasperated smile. 

“Bummer. Anyway, thanks for asking: Isabel is so fucking good. Like, there should be a Nobel prize for head – and she should get it.”

David stared at his brother with tight lips, and Fabian grimaced. “Sorry, too far,” he said. “Way too far. I know. I was joking, because– It’s just, like… she’s so amazing that I actually don’t know how to fucking cope. Do you know where we met? At fucking Harvard Business School mixer.”

“Let me guess, she actually came onto you?” David asked, staring into the middle distance as he took a sip from his drink. Virgin Mojito. He wasn’t going to start day drinking – at least not on day one.

“Ha ha. I know what you’re thinking bro, and I’m not the villain here. She’s smarter than most people I’ve ever met. She’s just decided to… use her assets and channel her ambitions in a highly unconventional direction that isn’t fully accepted by society -- a.k.a. putting out for holidays, dresses and very generous pocket money.”

“I can’t believe we were raised by the same mother,” said David. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure, but just one more thing: She did come onto me! But yes, moving on, how’s things in Lansing? Winters still awful?”

David chuckled. “Utterly. End of January, the Connors were out for a two day trip and their roof collapsed under the snow.”

Fabian nodded. “Holy shit, right! The Connors! Haven’t thought about them in ages. So they’re still kicking, those grumpy old fucks?”

“Alive and well, yelling at everything daring to touch their front lawn.”

“‘You snot-nosed little mongrels!’” Fabian half-shouted, half-wheezed, grabbing David’s shoulder like old man Connors used to do whenever he caught you being even vaguely adjacent to possible mischief. 

David grinned. “One day, reckoning will come, and you’ll be there with your pants down.” he growled, and laughed.

“Maybe we should ask him what the fuck that even meant before he kicks the bucket.” Fabian said, and David shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know.”

Fabian took a sip from his drink. “Mom and dad are doing well, too. I just had their patio and pool renovated. And dad wanted another lawnmower… you know, the kind to sit on. Didn’t like the automatic one. Prefers to keep busy. They say you should visit more often.”

David sighed. “I can’t take a trip to L.A. every month.”

“You could if you took the jet.”

“I’m not taking a private jet to visit my parents, Fabian. Please. Don’t.”

“Okay, move to L.A. then! I can make one fucking phone call, and you won’t even have to fly back to Lansing when this vacation is over! All of your shit will wait for you in the Hills!”

David didn’t even dignify it with a reply. He simply stared daggers.

“Come on, bro,” Fabian said. “I get it. I really do. You want to stand on your own feet. Be your own Belmont. But I mean it when I say it: It’s literally nothing to me. Drop in the bucket. Fart in the wind. Just let me give you a share of my ill-gotten gains! Move to L.A. with me and let me give you a job that pays you for doing nothing at the firm. Robin is way too beautiful for Michigan anyway, and you could give her such a good life in California! You know you want it, man! You weren’t too proud to ask for some money to get that water leak fixed – so what’s the big difference?”

David raised his eyebrows. “Are you seriously asking the difference between three and half grand for some emergency repair and letting you buy us a whole-ass mansion in Los Angeles, Fabian? Really?! And by the way, even asking for that money didn’t come easy.”

Fabian sighed. “You know what your problem is, Dave? – and don’t take this the wrong way: You’re a sheep.”

David was about to protest, but Fabian cut him off. “–and I say that as a fucking compliment, because you are objectively and without a doubt the better person out of the two of us. I fucking mean that! I mean… I’m better-looking and probably better at my job too, but you… you would actually deserve the fucking money!”

He shook his head and spread his arms. “Pretty please! Let your big brother give you the life you deserve.”

David put his drink on the bar. “Listen, Fabian, let’s just… let’s just enjoy this wonderful holiday. This…” he gestured around himself, at the snow-white facade of the castle, and the pool, and the tennis courts. “This is amazing. Truly. Thank you for taking us. I… listen… Can I make you an offer?”

“Shoot.”

“Let’s just enjoy the sun, and the ocean, and do absolutely nothing of consequence for the entire week. Let’s just… be who we are, and enjoy the company we keep, and be grateful for the things we’ve been given. And when we talk, let’s talk about sports and movies and the weather, and maybe our shitty neighbors, but nothing else. Cool?”

Fabian raised his drink, and they clinked classes. David could tell that Fabian was thinking his part – but he was keeping it to himself, and that was already about as much as you could ever ask for.

“Cool,” he said. “And in exchange you’ll say ‘yes’ to my offer?”

David took a deep sigh, and he knew he would regret saying it – but he said it, even if it was just to finally shut Fabian up. 

“Sure. I’ll think about it.”

But he wouldn’t. This wasn’t going to happen. For Robin’s sake. 


Evening:

The sun wasn’t going to set for another few hours, but it was getting time to prepare for dinner. Robin and David were back in their suite, picking out what to wear. Thankfully there was no formal dress code despite the ostentatious decor. Going on vacation on Fabian’s dime might be barely acceptable, but they definitely weren’t going to wear any evening dresses or tuxedos he had bought for them. 

“I hope dinner won’t take too long,” Robin said. “I’m sooo tired.”

“Me too,” said David. “I already asked Fabian. We can sleep in as long as we want tomorrow. He said that we’ll probably do ten hours or more.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Robin said. They had slept on the plane, but the jet lag was real, and she had no idea where in her sleep cycle she even was. She slipped out of the green dress she had been trying on, and was now stepping into a midnight blue one.

“So… Isabel seems nice,” David said absent-mindedly.

Robin smiled to herself. “You can say how hot she is,” she said. “I’ve got eyes, too.” 

David shot her a glance and gave her a smirk that straddled the line between innocent and mischievous. “Now that you mention it,” he said, buttoning up his shirt, “I guess she’s almost as pretty as my girlfriend.”

Robin groaned and threw a bikini top at him. “No one likes a kiss-ass,” she said with a smile. “You know you’re still allowed to find other women attractive. I’m not a monster. Just don’t look at them, or talk to them, or know their names, or walk the same direction as them, or – God forbid – have their numbers in your phone for any reason at all.”

“Sleeping with them is okay, then?”

“If you can do that without violating any of the former – honestly, good for you, stud!”

“Good to know, if I ever want the saddest creepiest sex possible. Tie or no tie?” 

“No tie!”

“Thought so. So… Isabel and Fabian. Did you already spill everything on the first day or are you going to wait until the last day before you rightfully slander my brother and make her drop him like hot coals?”

Robin raised her eyebrows. “Honestly, I don’t think she’d care.”

“Really?” asked David. “Huh. Kinda makes sense, actually. Say what you will about Fabian, but you’re not really buying the cat in the bag with him.”

Robin shook her head. “You really don’t. Wears all of his dickishness right on his sleeve. Honestly, I’d forgotten just how full of himself he can be.”

David nodded. “For what it’s  worth he promised to rein it in. Knock on wood. …How do I look?”

“Handsome. You should shave more often.”

“What? I thought you liked the beard?”

“I also like you shaved. …How’s the dress?”

“Beautiful,” said David, his face radiant and adoring in the way that always made Robin’s heart flutter with appreciation and affection.

For a moment, she hesitated. “Honey, before we leave… Can I ask you something?”

David raised his eyebrows, looking much more concerned than she had expected him to react. “What is it?” he asked, and for a short moment Robin had the overwhelming feeling that he had something on his mind, too.

“Uh… I,” she stammered. “I just wanted to say that I know that I’ve been very uncharitable to Fabian in the past, and honestly… I won’t say that I think I was wrong then, but… seeing him today, and after talking to Isabel…”

David raised his eyebrows. “Mhm?”

“Maybe there’s more to him than I’ve been giving him credit for. Or maybe he just finally grew up a bit. I don’t know. I mean… he’s still, you know, Fabian, but… I’m glad he invited us here. I’m glad to be here.”

David tilted his head with a sardonic smile. “Earlier by the bar, he asked me how you are in bed.”

Robin gasped with amused disbelief. “He did not!”

David chuckled. “I’m sorry. He’s such an asshole. I don’t know why I’m still giving him a chance.”

Robin nodded with a small grin of her own, and sighed. “No. I get it. He’s family. Come here.”

David stepped up to her and they embraced tightly. Robin’s head rested against the top of David’s chest and for a while she did nothing but listen to his breathing.

“He asked me to move to L.A. again,” David said, and Robin’s heart made a small reflexive jump that was utterly unidentifiable as either excitement or dread. She didn’t answer for another long moment.

“Into his kingdom,” she mumbled eventually, but it didn’t feel like the indictment it had once been, back when the topic had come up the last time. Isabel’s words were ringing in her ears. ‘Take what you can. Just one percent, and you’ll already have done more good than you would by letting the money sit in his bank account.’ 

It was tempting. Of course it was. It always had been.

“I know, I know,” he said. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have mentioned it. I know you don’t want that.”

She hugged him tighter, and for a moment she felt almost strong enough to confess.

But not quite.

“We should go to dinner,” she said, and broke the embrace. David looked down at her, and they smiled at each other wistfully.

“David?”

“Right here.”

“Let’s… talk about it. Moving to L.A. I mean. Really talk about it. From the top.”

David raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise, and smirked.

“But…?”

Robin laughed. “– But not right now. I’m too hungry.”

“Oh my God, me too,” David said. “I’m starving!” 

Robin smiled. She loved him so much. 

“Shall we, then?” she asked.

“Mylady.”

“Mylord.”

And with that they took each other’s hands and left for dinner – and as they walked down the hallway and to the elevator, some part of Robin couldn’t help thinking about Isabel.

Isabel. What a surprise she had turned out to be. Honestly, most of the afternoon it had been very pleasant talking to her, but those first ten minutes…wow. Talk about making a strong first impression. 

No matter. There was plenty of time for them to mull things over over bottomless cocktails, massages, sailboat trips, yoga sessions, and whatever else had been planned for them that was supposedly life-changing. If there was ever a chance to turn over a new leaf, this might well be it. And no matter which way her brain would come untangled by the end of all this, she might as well enjoy the thing she had already agreed to participate in.

She chuckled quietly as she remembered something Fabian had said earlier that day, one of the mottos of Casa Bianca: 

“A place where you can taste a better life! A place that will leave you relaxed, refreshed, and renewed! A place that leaves no one unchanged!” Well, hadn’t that piece of fluffy marketing already turned out weirdly prophetic? All that was missing now was actually feeling relaxed, refreshed, and renewed. Dinner was going to be nice, but she really couldn’t wait to finally get some sleep.


Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying this story in particular, or my writing in general, please leave a comment with your thoughts. It means more than you know. If you've found value in my writing and want to show your appreciation by throwing me a buck or two, you can purchase my first story collection on Gumroad for any amount you feel is fair. 

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