The Silent Man, Page 1

By Leslie Schmidt

The doorbell rang and Alexi, Callie's Yorkshire Terrier, ran to the door yapping and growling.

"Callie!" her mother called, "come get Alexi and take him to your room."

The nine year old dropped her Nintendo DS on her daybed and slid off, then hurried down the hall. Her mother had her hand on the doorknob. Callie picked up the bundle of fur who quickly turned his head and ran his impossibly long tongue from her chin, across her lips, over her nose, then up to her right eye.

"Take Alexi to your room dear, I'll call you in a few minutes."

Callie carried the dog under her arm to her room and closed the door, then went back to her game. Alexi lay down next to her hip and licked her thigh just below the hem of her shorts. Callie didn't pay any attention to her mother's muffled voice from the other room, or notice that she didn't hear the voice of the visitor.

Only five minutes later her mother called again and Callie, again, dropped the game and went to the door. Alexi sniffed at the gap under the door, his tail wagging in the air. As soon as she opened it, the dog dashed through the gap and ran down the hall. He was settling down in her mother's lap before Callie entered the room.

"Honey," her mother said, "this is Mr. Anderson, he's one of the executives at my work."

The girl looked at the man with an uneasy feeling. She knew that the 'executives' at her mommy's work were really important people. He was wearing a suit and a tie and was sitting very straight in the arm chair that her mommy usually sat in when she worked on her lap top. He wasn't an old man, but Callie did notice some grey in his dark hair. He was clean shaven.

All he did was nod at the girl, but it made her feel a little more uncomfortable the way he looked at her-he was looking directly at her-she felt like he was studying her, x-raying her. She could feel that, somehow, just by looking at her he knew everything about her. His eyes blazed dark blue, clear lasers that made her realize he was a very powerful person and how small she was.

She looked at her mother nervously.

"Callie," she said, "we want you to take off your clothes."

For a moment the girl didn't understand what her mom had said, then a fog of shock passed over her when she realized.

"Huh?"

"Take your clothes off so we can look at you," her mother said in a very matter-of-fact voice, as if it was the most normal thing.

The girl looked back at Mr. Anderson whose face was expressionless, then back at her mother.

"Why?"

"We just need to look at you," her mother replied.

Again she looked, unbelieving, at the man, then back at her mother.

"Mommy...I can't do that," she whined.

"Sure you can," her mom replied. "Come on, do what you're asked."

Again, Callie looked at Mr. Anderson, she felt his eyes on her, then back at her mother. Diana's expression was very direct-no nonsense-Callie knew she was completely serious and wouldn't allow her to disobey.

Callie pulled up on the hem of the red tank top, felt the cool draft of the air conditioner on her side, and dropped it. Another glance at her mother told her she had no choice. She pulled the top up and over her head, then shook out her short blonde hair. Her mother reached out and Callie gave her the top. Again she looked at Mr. Anderson while her mom folded the top and put it on the end table next to the sofa.

"OK, now your shorts," her Diana said.

She faced her mom, then slipped her thumbs under the elastic waist band.

"Face Mr. Anderson," her mom said.

Callie turned, then looked at her mom over her shoulder.

"Go on dear," her mother said, "we just have to see you naked.

The girl pushed her shorts down, but not her panties, then stepped out of them. She held them out to the side and her mother took them, placing them with her shirt.

"Panties too?" Callie asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Of course, dear," her mom answered.

Callie looked at the picture on the wall behind the strange man. It was a watercolor of a bird sitting on a branch. He mother had painted in art class in high school. She took a deep breath, then pushed her panties down and stepped out of them. Again she handed them to her mother, then turned and looked at Mr. Anderson.

Callie was a pretty typical fourth grader-about 4'6" and 65 pounds. Her hair was blonde, not real light, it would probably darken to 'dirty blonde' when she was older, and she kept in short, just down to her collar and parted a bit to the side. It was wavy and often unruly. Her face was pleasant, a wide forehead and widely set hazel eyes, a small impish nose, high cheeks, and a wide mouth. Her chin might be just a bit weak with the hint of a dimple. There was a mole (many would say a 'beauty mark') on her right cheek.

Of course, she was completely pre-pubescent. Her chest looked just like those of the boys in her class, except that occasionally her nipples would rise up into small domes. Her stomach was flat and the soft lines of her stomach muscles could be seen. She was actually a pretty strong little girl, if she put her arms up, her hands behind her head, then the sized of her shoulders and the muscles in her arms became exaggerated. She had the build of a swimmer and was stronger than most of the girls in her grade (and more than a few of the boys, as a couple had been embarrassed to find out).

As you'd expect, there wasn't a hint of any hair on her body, other than the light hairs on her legs. Her vulva was somewhat prominent, he bare pubic mound bisected by a deep slit that created large, rounded outer lips with a dimple at the top.

All this Anderson took in in an instant. His cock surged in his slacks and he felt a rare feeling of anxiety-something I wasn't used to.

His face had an almost clinical expression. His eyes were staring straight at her middle, between her legs. He looked tense, he took a deep breath and pulled in his lips just a bit-he seemed to bite his upper lip.

She could feel his eyes move over her-from her feet, up her legs and thighs. Then they paused. She wanted to cover herself but she knew she couldn't, her hands wouldn't move from her sides. Then his eyes moved up her stomach to her chest where they stayed for a moment. When he looked at her face, their eyes locked for just a moment before Callie looked away. When she looked back he was, again looking at her middle.

"Turn around, honey," her mother directed.

The girl did as she was told, now looking at the dark television in the shelves that also held the cable box and twenty or thirty DVDs. Still, it seemed she could feel his eyes on her back, thighs, her rear.

"Turn around again."

This time she was ready for his gaze. Again she looked up at the painting but then at his face. It seemed like he was studying her, his eyes moving slowly up and down and across her. She had to fight the desire to stoop down and hide herself.

Callie was super nervous, hardly breathing. Her vision seemed like it was through a tunnel of fog as she looked at the man, knowing he was seeing her. Then his eyes shifted to her mother and he gave the slightest node.

"Callie," her mom said, "sit down on the floor."

It was a relief to drop down onto her knees, then sink back on her heels and lean to the side, her hip on the carpet. Again she looked at the strange man, then at her mother.

"No honey," her mom said. "Sit on your bottom and put your feet out in front of you."

Callie lifted up and shifted her feet out, keeping her knees bent and putting an arm around her knees.

"Lean back on your elbows," her mom said.

She did, but kept her knees firmly together.

"Honey, spread your feet apart."

Callie again looked at her mom. Why was she doing this? Why did she have to show this strange man herself? She was scared, nervous and...ashamed. She'd been told over and over never to do something like this, that it was nasty, wrong.

She put her feet a few inches apart but kept her knees together.

"Farther honey, spread your legs."

Again she looked at the painting, then she lifted both feet and put them about a foot apart on the floor, holding her knees slightly out to the sides.

She looked at the man from between her knees. She could tell he was looking at her sex.

"Lay back dear," her mom said, "and spread your legs farther."

Callie was overwhelmed. She fell onto her back, then lifted her legs and put her feet down, now over two feet apart. She knew the man was looking at her vagina. She put her hands over her face-she wanted to hide.

She lay like that for over a minute, she felt tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes and run down her temples. She pulled her hands away and looked at her mother, imploring her to make it stop.

"Don't' be scared honey," she said. "Nobody's going to hurt you."

Diana looked up at Anderson, asking him with her eyes if the girl was done. He nodded, then waved his hand.

"OK honey," she said. "You can go back to your room."

Callie rolled onto her stomach, then jumped up and ran from the room. Alexi jumped from her mother's lap and ran after, he was almost caught by the door as she threw it closed behind her and jumped onto her bed, sobbing into her elbows.

She lay there for a few minutes, calming down. She stopped crying. She didn't know what to think about what had happened. She was OK-no one had even touched her, no one had said anything mean or laughed at her. It had just been so-unexpected and so-strange.

Callie pulled her pillow over her head.

She didn't hear the front door open and close until Alexi looked up and gave a little bark. A few seconds later there was a light knocking at her door.

"Honey," her mother said, "can I come in?"

Callie kept her head under the pillow. She heard her mother walk over, then the bed sank as she sat down. Her mother pulled the covers from the side and covered her legs and lower back, then rubbed her shoulder blades.

"Honey, I know that was uncomfortable but...well, there are some men in the world...well, people just naturally do what they want. I think you felt that with Mr. Anderson"

Callie lifted the pillow and turned her head so her mom could see her face. Strangely, she knew her mom was right.

"It just felt so strange," she said. "Like he was taking me apart."

"Mr. Anderson is just like that. He's very powerful. I don't know why but, it's just like, you know, you have to do what he wants...no...you want to."

Callie rolled onto her side and looked at her mom, her face very serious. "Yeah, I know. I was so...so embarrassed...but...I...I wanted him to see me too."

"He's that way," her mom said as she ran her hand over Callie's forehead. "You just want to do what he wants...no matter what. I guess that's what they call 'natural leadership' or 'will'. But you also know that he'll never hurt you...you just know you can trust him."

Callie nodded, then hugged the dog to her chest. "Will he come back again?"

"I don't know," her mom said. "I think he will."

Callie looked down at Alexi, then pulled her head back to avoid a lick.

"Does he ever talk?" Callie asked.

"Very little," her mom said. "Mostly he tells people what to do by e-mails. He's really high up, like my boss', boss', boss. I've been in a couple of meeting where he was. He just let everyone talk, then got up and said he'd send us his plan for input before he made a decision."

"Why'd he come here?" Callie asked.

"He saw you at the company picnic and then he called me and told me to expect him here today-and not to tell you he was coming but that he wanted you here. It wasn't until he got here that he told me what he wanted."

"Why, why'd he want me to do that?" Callie asked.

Diana didn't want to answer directly; she didn't even want to admit to herself what she knew.

"I don't know him but he has a reputation-he loves and collects beautiful things. I've been in his office once and there were a number of paintings and some sculptures. I guess he just likes looking at beautiful things-and that includes you."

It was a week later, on Thursday, that an e-mail from 'andersonj' appeared in Diana's Outlook.