Disclaimer: I don't own Shake It Up and I'm not saying that the scenarios that are about to happen in this story would happen if I did own it, but I am saying that you'd see a lot more Sofia Vergara if I did own the show.
It'd been nearly twenty-five days before and she had been scattering things across her bedroom floor, ruff wood creaking beneath her feet and the blouses her mother had chosen laying across her canopy bed in dismay. She'd been asked to wear a corset and frowned upon the thought; she may have been small but she wasn't aiming to become a complete twiglet.
"Cecilia, prepare yourself for the ride downtown," she'd heard echo across the mansion. Cecelia sighed, looking down at the fluffy sundress she'd chosen, the poofy hem scratching against her pale skin. This was the only dress that she had given a thought about, and her mother favored it very much. She'd hate to displease her mother, because that always inevitably led to displeasing her stern father. Slipping on her flats and a sunhat, she sped down the stairs and stared at her mother, leaning on the counter of their large kitchen and skimming through the mail.
"Happy birthday, Cecelia." It was unexpected as her mother set the mail down, embracing her daughter in a tight hug. She pulled back, narrowing her eyes at her redheaded daughter. CeCe gazed back, smiling. "Yes, mother?"
"Are you prepared for the following events today? It'd be a shame if you came home with something that didn't give your wealthy father a run for his riches."
"I've been contemplating about it all night, how could I not know what to choose when I arrive?"
Her mother grabbed her large leather purse, embezzled with jewels of all sorts, heels clicking against the ground as she stepped out into the sun. Cecelia could barely contain her excitement as the wagon rode up to the dusty sidewalk and she climbed into the wagon, watching the dark man guiding the horse snap the straps. Her mother stared out the window, looking majestic as ever. She watched the green pastures she passed, then the various houses crowded around eachother, white fences and red, white, and blue flags hanging off the side of the house. Some houses, she'd seen the workers shoveling away at the ground.
She was finally sixteen, and her father asked her what she'd wanted. Diamonds, shoes, gold and then he murmured, spewing smoke from his cigar,"Or do you want, sweetheart? Choose, and I guarantee you'll receive it with no consent."
And today, she would receive it.
It was twenty minutes later after riding through dusty roads, they began to slow upon a large, white building. Cecelia eyed the numerous, carved wooden wagons, parked on the side of the building and the bachelors with their temporary wives being escorted in by more property. She could see the sweat rolling down their dark skin, being forced to stand out in the eighty-degree sun while the shade lay right behind them, inside the giant building. Cecelia stepped out of the wagon, letting her prideful mother waltz in front of her. Mrs. Jones smiled at the help as she passed them into the building, who Cecelia knew they were forcing their smiles back.
She took no thought of remaining calm as she rushed out, stomping on the dirt road, red hair flurrying in the wind. Before she could rush inside, a gentle hand roped around her arm. She tilted her her head to stare at her gracious mother, a penciled eyebrow raised in warning. "Compose yourself, Cecelia. It may be your birthday but you will not behave like a huckletowner in front of our neighbors." The redhead sighed, forcing a smile onto her face.
Walking through the large, white door, she was greeted with 'Hello's' and 'Good evening's', while her mother was unknowingly getting stares at her bosom. Cecelia couldn't deny that her mother did, in fact, look like a true belle.
She took sight of the various fellow upper class people sitting with umbrellas covering them from the non-existent sun, and then she spotted her father at the very front sitting in a red, leather chair. Her brown-haired, dark eyed father smiled at his red-headed daughter, pulling her down and squeezing her in a tight hug. "Happy birthday, my sweet girl. Come, take a seat next to me so you know can clearly see what you're buying."
There were loud crying, screaming sounds coming from behind the empty stage. The excitement in her blood boiled; almost there. A few more moments.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the state Alabama, we are now ready for the auction. Prepare the cash upfront please," a man with a curly, wool-like beard said as he stepped onto the stage in tight trousers with a vertically-striped button shirt. "Bring 'em out!" The sound of chains against wood echoed throughout the silent room, then they appeared; men and women, all with dark-chocolate skin, feet moving in slow unison. Some of their faces were with dull, numbness, other were ridden with fear. Whips and bruises and burns that one could almost feel covered their bodies. Cecelia watched them intently, scanning for one that she could possibly like. The chain-line stopped, and the redhead frowned.
They were boys and girls of all sorts standing on that stage, but not a one captured Cecelia's eye. Her father nudged her, and mumbled,"What about the first one, you like that?" She shook her head and removed her hat; the was no sun in here, and no point for a hat to be upon her head.
"This one is strong, it's got tough hands great for stayin' in the fields even through moonlight, and I don't see any permanent damage. We'll start at five-hundred." The announcer continued to flaunt what could be possible property, as Cecelia scanned through the shivering yet stiff property on stage.
"Wait, wait! We got us another one over here, was hiding in the bushes behind the wagons. You thought you was 'gon escape, jackamammy?" The bald, red-faced man yanked out a girl from the right stage, and Cecelia leaned forward in her seat. Wow.
That was it. That would be hers. "You stand right here next yer monkey brothers." She's tied with rope to the broken chain link and shoved once more before he walked off stage. Cecelia leaned over to her dad and pointed. "Daddy, I want that one. That one on the very far end on the right."
He father scratched his stubbled chin and raised his eyebrows, nodding. "You're gonna pick one of them light-skinned ones, huh?" His redheaded daughter grinned and nodded.
She'd bet her life itself that by the end of the day, that girl would be hers.
"Sold, to the Briley family for nine-hundred and twenty dollars!" The loud auction went on, as so did the anticipation to make sure that not a soul in the room got a hope to the last girl at the end. Property was sold away, and finally, the time came. Cecelia glanced at her dad who was looking back at her with a knowing smile. The light-skinned girl standing with a fierce gaze that Cecelia wanted so dearly to break. She wanted to see fear; not a speck of pride or comfort left.
The announcer circles the stiff girl, standing in rags that barely covered her body. "We got ourselves a light-skinner here. Looks like it ain't got a scratch on it's body, nice white teeth and a tall build. We'll start at seven-hundred!" The redhead's leg bounced in eagerness, and she hated the way her father looked so calm about it.
"One thousand!"
"One thousand-hundred and fifty!"
"Two thousand-one-hundred!"
"Four thousand!"
"Seven-thousand!"
She gulped. It was now or never.
Then, her father stood up, raising his arms and smirking, the room falling to a quiet mutter. CeCe was exhaling every second.
"Ten thousand dollars- Cash." It was as if the world stopped for a moment, as the announcer raised his scruffy eyebrows, eyeing Mr. Jones with a perplexed look. "Well, damn, Mr. Jones. They ain't worth that much. Ain't even worth my time to be frank."
Cecelia's father shrugged, and said,"A present, for my baby girl on her sixteenth birthday."
She heard the audible sighs and swears going around the room, and tightened her fists. Her mother was glaring furiously at him. Nobody around town could beat that price, even the richest man in town couldn't. Even though the richest man in town happened to be her father. Now all he needed to do was say it. Say it, say it. "Going once! Going twice?..."
Say it- "Sold! To the Jones family!" People started swarming out of the building with their newly owned property, and Cecelia couldn't help herself as she squealed, jumping up and embracing her father as tightly as she could. "Oh, thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you!" He playfully nudged her under the chin, bring his head up to stare at the slave girl approaching them with tied wrists and ankles. A small frown graced his face, but his Mrs. Jones gripped his arm with a crossed look and tight frown and he amusedly murmured,"We'll be in the carriage, Cecelia."
CeCe eyed the tan girl behind her, quiet as a daisy on a spring day. Her skin was covered in sweat and dirt of all sorts, and her eyes; they were something fierce. Cecelia knew what to do. Kinda. She grabbed the end of rope and yanked, warning the girl,"Don't speak unless I give the say. Do you understand?" The girl nodded, and CeCe tugged away at the rope, guiding her out the door. A smirk graced her face as she stepped out into the hot sun.
This would be fun.
XxX
"Daddy? What am I supposed to... do, with her?" The redhead asked as she came upon her father reading the daily paper. He looked up from his paper and chuckled at his naive daughter, tucking away a loose strand from her fiery red hair.
"Whatever you like, sweet heart. Whatever you want her to do for you." Cecelia nods and is about to return to her room, where the girl had been standing for nearly an hour, before her father calls. "Remember though, she isn't your friend, she isn't you acquaintance, she isn't you equal, she's your property. She's to do you whatever you say, and if she doesn't, you come to me." She nodded again, even though her father couldn't see her, and sprinted up the stairs. Whatever she wanted, huh?
She stepped into her neat bedroom, where the girl was still standing. Her ankles and wrists had been released but Cecelia dared her to move from that spot on the ground. She'd also been cleaned up and put into some less-than-comfortable clothing, and now stood with her true face exposed.
Cecelia circled the girl as she stood, staring into the white walls of the room. "Respond when I speak to you now. What's your name?"
The girl hesitated at first, but rasped,"Raquel Blue." Her voice was something sweet as Dixie Crystal, Cecelia noted.
"Where are you from?"
"Georgia, I believe."
"How did you get here, Raquel?"
"I was born into slavery, and then I got taken away from my family when I was two." Cecelia could not help the pang in her heart at that statement; she couldn't say anything though. She was to feel no remorse, no regret, and not an inch or sorriness for the property.
"How old are you now?"
"Sixteen." The redhead still menacingly circled her servant, and ran a finger down the soft skin of her arm. Boy, was her skin softer than cotton.
"And what uptown fling decided to get her hands on one of those cotton grabbers?" Cecelia saw the tense form the girl took on; she was obviously the result of white girl who couldn't keep her hands to herself, Raquel's skin a tanned, caramel color. Cecelia liked it. She damn well wouldn't say it, though.
"My momma's name is Lillian Penelope Wellington."
Cecelia's eyes widened. Mrs. Wellington? That lady couldn't be a day over thirty. Although, she may or may not have overheard her mother clarifying such things once or twice. Cecelia chuckled and shook her head, demeaning Raquel's self-esteem. "Well, I hope you know your mother is filthy for that. God knows why she'd wanna touch something that would breed another thing like you... Raquel."
Her ear caught the slightest grunt come from Raquel's throat and it faded into the air quickly, but the meaning didn't. Cecelia lowered her brow, stepping up until her nose was barely gracing Raquel's. The smell of soap and a tinge of fear swirled as she threatened the brunette girl, and she stared directly into the brown orbs that only enticed her more. "Do you wanna say something to me, Raquel? Open your mouth one good time for me. Go on, I dare you."
The only response were breaths, and Cecelia trailed her gaze up and down Raquel's slim body. "That's what I thought, nothing."
A knock on the door interrupted the redhead's constant interrogation and Sperry-clad foot, then a wave of curly blonde hair with a blue button down shirt and khaki shorts entered the room fully. He was all pink lips and green eyes, with freckles speckled all over his rosy cheeks. Cecelia and Raquel watched with amazed eyes- This boy was one fine glass of water, and Cecelia squealed and hopped into his arms, dress flurrying with the bounce. An anxious air filled the room for Raquel. It was her boyfriend. "Benny!"
He leaned down, planting a kiss onto her cheek, furrowing his eyebrow as he noticed another person in the room. "Happy birthday, baby. And what's this?" He had a high-pitched voice, like he hand't been through puberty yet, and didn't seem all that manly to Raquel. Like hell she'd voice such things, though.
Cecelia beamed over at Raquel with pearly white teeth, happily retorting,"Why, that's my new birthday present that daddy got me. Ain't it nice?"
He eyed Raquel one more time, questioningly answering,"If that's what you wanna call it. But anyways, I got a much better present for you, one that you're gonna remember for a lifetime." He giggled and pulled Cecelia closer, repeatedly kissing her until he paused and narrowed his eyes at Raquel, still standing on the cold, wooden floor where Cecelia had locked her nearly an hour ago. "Uh, aren't you going to tell her to leave?"
The redhead gave a menacing look over to her present, and shook her head at her boyfriend. "No, let her watch and see what she can't have."
The blonde-boy pulled back slightly, opposing,"CeCe, I want this to be something special between us; I don't want... her watching us do it."
CeCe; the nickname caught onto Raquel's ear as she listened to the quietly erupting argument.
"Does it bother you that much, Ben? She's practically invisible to me, so why can't she be invisible for you?" The disturbed look on his face must have triggered something in the redhead's body because in two seconds she was pushing him away and snapping at him. "It's my birthday anyway, Benjamin, we should just do what I want for at least one day out of the year."
"Could we not do it in front of someone? That's weird, babe. Send her to the fields at least."
"Dear Jesus, I hate when you call me babe. Do I look like a pig to you?"
Ben sighed. "No, but you're really starting to sound like one. In fact, I'm leaving. You can spend the rest of your birthday with that thing for all I care because you obviously want her more than you want me. So," he lowered his voice to a quiet murmur, grabbing the doorknob,"when you make up your shit stir of a mind, make your way on down the road. You know where I am." He left, leaving Cecelia staring at the door and then at Raquel.
She huffed and puffed, pacing around her room with a darkened look. She growled, hem of her sundress swinging in a swift manner. "Urgh, that- that son of a bitch! He thinks he can come in here and get me all riled up and walk out like nothing happened and I've gotta deal with these feelings by myself? All I wanted to do was-" She stops in her breath, pointing to Raquel.
"You; this is your fault. God, you're just like all the rest of your monkey families, just messing shit up for no reason. And on my birthday? A day that I only see once a year?" Cecelia knew she was talking a bit too loud and her mother would pan her backside if she caught onto the lewd language her classy daughter was using, but she didn't care. It was her birthday, and it had been ruined just like that...
Or had it, she thought.
Raquel watched Cecelia stop in her tracks, staring at the girl with a dark look. Her throat tightened. "Get on the bed and lay down."
The quiet girl obeyed, bare feet padding against the ground as she slid onto the soft sheets of Cecelia's bed. She shyly gazed back up at Cecelia, looking like thoughts were crowding her mind and senses.
"Close your eyes." She did so, closing her eyes and waiting; expecting what she'd watched her friends and family experience throughout her sixteen years of life. She could almost feel smooth leather ripping across her back now, and she had to control her body for tremoring in fear. She then felt cool cloth sliding against her eyelids, and tightening in the back of her head. Then her wrist were being bound to the bed post. She was now blind and helpless.
She didn't mean it. She really didn't. She hoped her first beating wouldn't end up having her barely alive, open blisters bleeding and cuts purple and swollen.
She felt the bed sink, and soon she felt tugging. The clothes on her body were being pulled, jerked even. A loud ripping sound filled the room, the presence of her shirt gone, and her bra easily was taken off. She hoped her skin was dark enough so that Cecelia wouldn't see the blush rapidly filling her cheeks; she'd never been this exposed to someone before and not have them violently pinch or poke something.
Cecelia was just staring, embarrassingly marveled at the new sight before her. She murmured,"Golly."
Her hands settled at the hem of Raquel's skirt, only feeling soft skin and she made sure that the hem of her panties were within the reach of her fingertips as well, tugging down and giving an audible gasp. This girl had to be made of something that wasn't dirt, grime, or muck like her daddy had always preached to her; her skin felt like freshly polished porcelain on a cool summer day. She let her hands slide up the tight and shivering abdomen, liking the sensation of goosebumps forming on Raquel's skin.
"If my parents knew what I was getting into right now, they'd skin my little white behind," Cecelia mumbled, more so to herself than to Raquel.
It was like an open map of the world, and she had every sight to visit. Her eyes went lower and lower, and there wasn't a breath that didn't leave her mouth in those five seconds that she stared down at the exposed girl. Her index finger started at the dip of Raquel's flat stomach, trailing a neat, straight line down, swirling around the tiny dip of her belly button, following the path that her eyes dared to take. She stopped when her nail came to her hips, and glanced back up at Raquel.
Watching intently, she hesitantly began to slide that brave finger lower until it was greeted with a warm, soft and almost wet skin. The smallest noise floated from Raquel's mouth; Cecelia enjoyed it. She paused again, not sure of what to do but to do what she could only think of.
She positioned her finger where she was sure it would be the safest, and took no time in sliding it in. She heard Raquel hiss and her hips jerked upward; Cecelia smiled and let the feeling warm, constricting feeling around her finger settle.
"Does that feel nice?" Cecelia guessed it did because all the noise she heard Raquel make was a squeal.
"Yes, ma'am." Cecelia frowned at that name. "Don't call me 'Ma'am', I sound like an oldie. Call me CeCe."
She watched the girl's face with curiosity as she made her pace more brisk and Raquel twisted and fretted at each movement. She was so constricting, even with a single finger inside; Cecelia wondered just how many she could take inside her tight little... "Oh my God, CeCe." Cecelia blushed as Raquel babbled her name in quick breaths, the bedposts creaking as she yanked against them.
"Cecelia, what's going on up there? I hear an awful lot of noise," her father called from downstairs. Cecelia smirked.
"Nothing daddy! Just," she paused and teasingly pushed in her middle finger,"playing with my new present."
Raquel groaned,"Holy Christ." Cecelia watched her straining to be released from those tightly-knotted cloths, her toes bending and her chest rising and falling. Cecelia was marveled at the sight of her fingers disappearing and reappearing into the warm and tight space, biting her lower lip in curiosity as she pushed the farthest she could go. Raquel gave a strangled noise and kicked her foot as Cecelia's fingers stayed there, and she moved to look at Raquel's reddening body. She gazed up at her and wriggled her fingers in that deep, deep spot and felt the girl's hips rise.
Cecelia brought her left hand up, circling it around a nipple. "You know, you're not so bad looking." In fact, Raquel was astonishingly beautiful. Cecelia lay her head on the girl's rapidly rising and falling abdomen, Cecelia loving the feel of her damp skin against her ear. Her skin was so damn soft, it had to made of fine china. Her voice was light and breezy and was the sweet vanilla inside of the ice cream. And those eyes; she wanted to see them. She slid upwards and tugged the loosely tied cloth from around Raquel's face. Just as she'd expected, when she looked up, there were those dark brown eyes, a bit darker than before.
"Look at me. Do you like that?" Raquel nodded frantically, eyebrows twisted upwards in confliction between maintaining a proper stature for the menacing redhead above her and fighting the voice that wanted to break from her lungs so badly.
"Yes, CeCe," her voice cracked. She felt the fingers go as deep as they could, feeling the edge of Cecelia's knuckle press against her, and there they paused, before steadily making a prying motion. She saw the girl's head fall backwards against the wooden headboard and felt the rising pulse rapidly beating against her face. She softly spoke,"You like when I do that to you? You like my fingers inside of you?"
"Yes, please CeCe, yes," Raquel panted, feeling the fingers begin to sway back and forth once more, keeping their curved figure pressing against a spot that she just kept on hitting again and again and it made Raquel want to scream from rooftops. Her head remained fallen back, wrists still tied up to the squeaking bedposts and the sheets that were once freshly pressed and steamed were now wrinkled and damp from sweat.
"Are you going to come?" Cecelia murmured against Raquel's stomach, fingers still moving at a quickening rate. The redhead suspected so as the girl only gave a slight moan and nod once more, and she felt Raquel's abdomen start to momentarily tighten; she was close. "Look at me, Rauqel. Tell me if you're going to come."
She saw Raquel's chest begin to jump and fall at a rising frequency, starting to feel the little twitches throughout her body. A light sob came from her mouth and her toes curled, Cecelia pushing and pulling as fast as she could manage. "I'm gonna come," she shakily breathed out. Cecelia smiled and rested her chin on the girl's stomach, watching her face start to contort to the vigorous waves of pleasure. Her body lurched upwards, the bed creaking with the jolt and she coughed out exhales and moans. The redhead kept pushing faster and harder, no care given to the fact that her parents could probably hear every breath and moan and whimper coming from their daughter's room. "Oh my God, CeCe."
The tightening and releasing around her fingers urged Cecelia to go at a more brisk pace, watching Raquel intently. It looked as if she was almost about to cry, shudders rippling through her body and hips undulating to the slowing pace, head tilted back as far as it could go. She gave another cry into the air, hips raised to their highest level and her eyes squeezed tight before her body fell. Raquel's heavy breaths became lighter and easier to exhale, and all that was left now were the fingers still inside of her. The redhead couldn't push the smug smile from her face as she withdrew her fingers from the soft, pulsating skin.
"You didn't keep your eyes open," Cecelia murmured while looking at her two glistening fingers. She sat up and looked at Raquel's body, watching it climb down to it's regular stature, tense and shy.
"I'm sorry- I'm really sorry, but I... I just couldn't," Raquel softly murmured. Cecelia grimaced at her for a split second, Raquel avoiding her devious gaze before Cecelia cheekily broke out into a smile.
"I know. My mother and father probably know by now, too." Cecelia watched the small grin that formed on Raquel's mouth, reaching up and untying the cloth knotted on her wrists. Free from the binds, she stretched her arms out, sighing and lowering them over her exposed body. The redhead moved them, though, out of the way and she slid her hands up Raquel's abdomen, her hands coming to cover the nipples of her breasts. She squeezed and giggled, then sighed.
"I like you, Raquel... And I want you stay in here. With me." Cecelia watched the brown swirls of her eyes light up with joy and relief.
"Oh God, really? Thank you master- I mean, CeCe! Thank you so much, thank you... but what about Benjamin?"
Cecelia scoffed,"Don't even mention that jerk's name. The only name I wanna hear is mines coming from your mouth again."
CeCe climbed over Raquel's body, settling down and coming close to her lips, whispering,"Next time, just keep your eyes open. Okay?" She leaned down, pressing an unexpected kiss to the tip of Raquel's nose and sliding off the girl, sauntering out of her room, not noticing the blush forming on Raquel's face or that she had left the girl completely naked.
Dear people who even still care to like me: You are angel babies. Pure angel babies, with a hint of cinnamon on the side. You're spicy angel babies.
You what would make you even spicier than before? A review. A review would make you so spicy, that you become a iconic-pop singer from Britain.
(I mean a Spice Girl)
(Review)