Twisted

by Lola Smirnova

  I walk in further and see Ali at the stove. I can’t resist and start laughing. He is actually doing a little hip-hop dance while wearing an apron, mixing something very delicious in a saucepan and singing some of the lyrics badly, using a wooden spoon as a microphone.

  ‘I would never have thought that you’re a big fan of the King of Pop.’

  He notices me, gives me his shy smile and turns the volume down.

  ‘You are early? For how long have you been standing here, watching me?’ He adds some playfully worried notes, ‘If you’ve seen me moonwalking, I’ll have to kill you.’ He quickly kisses me on the lips and goes back to the stove.

  ‘That was amusing. You shouldn’t have stopped,’ I tease and come closer to check what he’s cooking. ‘Smells delicious.’

  ‘Wait until you try it … another five minutes and we are all set.’

  Ali pours me a glass of wine, cuts some French baguette into small cubes and puts the pot with melted cheese on a special tray with a few candles underneath it, right next to a bowl of Greek-style salad on the table.

  ‘Have you ever eaten fondue?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘Oh, well, there is not just eating involved. We are going to play a little game at the same time.’ He smiles with such excitement, like a boy waiting at the Christmas tree knowing that in a few seconds he will be able to open his long-awaited presents.

  I raise my eyebrows and smile back at him. ‘A game?’

  Jesting, he continues, ‘The rules are simple, Victoria …’

  ‘Call me Julia, please. It’s my real name,’ I interrupt him. ‘Sorry, you were saying?’

  ‘Hmmm …’ Ali takes a sip from his glass, ‘Julia … so much better than Victoria.’ Then he smiles and adds a little bit more seriously, ‘Thanks for sharing that … it means a lot to me.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ I quickly answer while hungrily looking at the pot.

  He starts laughing. ‘Shame, Julia, I didn’t know you were that hungry! Let’s start … I will explain how it works as we eat.’

  He takes my fondue fork, pokes it into one of the bread cubes and dips it into the melted cheese. ‘You see? It is very easy. Try …’

  I bite it off the fork. ‘Hmm … it is delicious! Hmmm … you are good …’

  ‘If you carry on making those noises, I can’t promise I will let you finish dinner, Julia.’

  His voice makes my insides twist and I feel pleasant warmness down my belly.

  Oh my fuck. He hasn’t even touched me and I am already horny as hell.

  ‘Hmm …’ I tease him again, ‘sounds promising. So, you wanted to tell me about the game?’

  ‘Mainly, there is one rule: while we eat, we must try not to lose our pieces of bread in the saucepan. Whoever drops the most will have to comply with all the wishes of the winner. In other words, the winner is going to be the master tonight.’

  As he speaks there is so much badness in his eyes that I fidget on my stool, trying to calm my already-burning-with-desire vagina.

  ‘I am in. I’m liking this dinner more and more – tasty and fun!’ I say and let one piece of bread slip back into the pot straight away. ‘Oopsy!’ I put on my flirty-naughty face. ‘It looks like I will end up very hungry tonight …’

  Time goes by; the evening is lively and tasty. After dinner, Ali suggests we move to the couch with the wine to have some dessert. He points at the silver tray with its coke that I hadn’t noticed earlier.

  It can’t get better than this … seriously!

  The rest of the night we spend sniffing and fucking like crazy all over the place: on the tables, on the floor, against the walls and in the shower. We get to bed only at sunrise, with the first call to prayer.

  As we lie spooning, exhausted and half asleep, Ali plays with a lock of my hair and gently bites my shoulder.

  ‘You know, I am not a big fan of relationships and commitment, but the honesty and courage in your eyes when you threw the money at me last night shook me somehow. I thought about you all night. Really, I couldn’t sleep.’ I hear the confusion in his voice.

  ‘Yeah, I was stupid to do that,’ I say and yawn at the same time.

  I hear him smile. ‘Okay, it was a little stupid, but there was so much bluntness in your act as well. Trust me, Julia, not many people are capable of that.’

  ‘Uh huh.’ I’m struggling to keep up, and fall asleep.

  * * *

  I wake up alone in the bed; the place is quiet. I check the time. It’s 10 a.m. – Ali is probably at his lectures already. Wow. What a night – it was supernatural …

  The swelling and slight discomfort in my pussy is the sweetest evidence that last night was not just a dream.

  I jump into the shower, dress and go to the kitchen to make some coffee, while thoughtlessly singing ‘I can’t help falling in love’ by UB40.

  I find a note and two hundred-dollar bills on the kitchen table, next to the violets:

  ‘It was a wonderful night. Thanks. Hope to see you soon … A.’

  I smile, feeling fluttering butterflies in my chest, finish my coffee and leave without touching the money.

  46

  The next couple of weeks are really exhausting. I am fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about him. When I sleep, I dream about him. When I am awake, everything around me reminds me of him, and that eats up all of my consciousness. When other men touch me, I experience an almost physical pain and I want to cry, because I wish they were him.

  Even my body is in bad condition.

  While Alexandra keeps me busy, giving me two or three jobs a day, I drown myself in gallons of liquor and mountains of coke to make the hours when I am consumed by other men go faster and less painfully. Keeping my head as misty as possible helps, but at the same time, my body is struggling to handle all the crap I take in to reach that state.

  On the rare occasions when Ali has a break in his studies, I come up with another lie for Alexandra about a painful period, headache or high blood pressure, and we can spend another perfect night together. And still, I take in a lot of blow, because Ali likes to relax and I just don’t know when to stop. As a result, I can hardly tell day from night. I often don’t remember who I fucked yesterday, and don’t really care who I’ll be with tomorrow. I am tired, very tired, and the only emotion I am capable of right now is hatred for Alexandra and all the I-hate-condoms-and-love-to-fuck-for-hours clients she sends me to. There are so many of them; the fucking never ends. But I don’t care … Ali … I wait for him to call me and tell me when we can meet again.

  I don’t know where are we going with this relationship, if you could even call it that. Ali feeds me with some bullshit excuse that he cannot commit to anything until he finishes his studies. ‘It is something I promised to my parents and myself. Nothing will stop or distract me from getting a degree. First, a good job, then a family.’

  Blah blah blah …

  But I don’t really care, as long as he lets me be with him at least sometimes. I get through three, four or sometimes five, six days and as many as ten, 15 or even 20 dicks knowing that I will see him again. That is all that matters.

  Although, apparently I don’t look okay anymore either, and get increasingly more comments from Inna about needing a rest. ‘You must take a day off, Jul. You look very tired,’ or ‘If you do call in sick, stay in bed, you need to catch up on some sleep.’

  Yes, I am very tired, but why can’t you just shut up and mind your own business? I don’t need your concern. If I get a chance to see him, I will.

  I even stopped answering Inna, to save some energy on arguments. Or, it could be that I just don’t care about anything but the following Friday. Ali told me he is going out with his friends for a boys’ night out, but that if I want I could join him afterwards at his place.

  Friday. I will see him on Friday …

  Hi my Poppy-seed,

  How are you doing?

  You wouldn’t believe what happened last night !

&nb
sp; My Michel decided to surprise me and without saying a word showed up in our cabaret ! OMF! We opened six bottles of Dom Perignon and got wasted together with Natalia . Obviously he drank most of it, and even needed assistance to get into a cab!

  We had so much fun. It was a really great surprise …

  What’s more, our boss agreed to give me a day off today! I never thought that this short-sighted bumpkin was capable of humane actions like

  this !

  So we took the opportunity in full and went to some fancy place by the sea.

  What’s on your side? Don’t forget to write back to me …

  Love you my little sister

  xxx

  47

  He is in his mid-30s, well-built and very polite. So polite that it’s creepy. My intuition is definitely trying to tell me something, but I don’t listen. My brains are busy enjoying a deep dive in the warm river of the memories of the last night I spent with Ali.

  Okay, it was not even a night … When he called me it was already 3 a.m. He asked me to bring some coke. I got to his place at four. He fucked me crazily, as always, and then didn’t let me stay there, because his parents were visiting him for breakfast. They wanted to check how he was doing with his ‘independent life’, for which they are still paying.

  ‘Would you like some of this?’ The man shows me a sealed little bag of coke, after bringing us two glasses of whisky. He is just friendly; nothing wrong with that. But when I look at his smiling face my heart sinks – there is something very not right in his eyes.

  I try to calm myself down. Alexandra told me that even though I’d never worked with him before he is an old client she’d known for ages.

  He sets up a few lines and watches me doing them, still wearing his creepy smile. I rub my nose, but instead of my usual feeling, my hunch gets obsessively bigger. He is weird, fucking weird … Why doesn’t he sniff himself? Or if he doesn’t do drugs why would he have them on him in the first place?

  But I stop myself, trying not to overthink the situation, keeping in mind that Alexandra knows the man, so he should be safe.

  The creep is quite generous and asks if I would like another hit before we go to his bedroom. I don’t say no and get loaded pretty well, ignoring my anxiety and diluting my consciousness in the mist I try to stay in.

  We go to the bedroom and the fucking, for the most part, turns to harsh but standard. He bangs me with a condom, then some time later persuades me to take it off, promising another hit. I don’t really know how much time has passed but it seems he’s been perforating me for an extensive period already.

  He is getting tired and frustrated.

  ‘I want to fuck your ass, Sweetie,’ he exclaims without stopping the digging.

  ‘I don’t do ass-fucking, sorry.’ My answer is broken up by my breathing. ‘Oh, come on. I’ll give you a nice take-away.’ He obviously means more drugs for me in exchange.

  ‘Do you think I am a crack whore, or what?’ I lose it and almost shout. ‘Get off me!’

  He doesn’t move, his body weight pressing me even harder into the mattress. He smiles viciously. ‘Hmm … you refuse, and resist me? That’s even better!’

  I try to push him off me as hard as I can, threatening to go to the police if he does not stop, but I can’t do anything. He is at least twice as heavy as me, and we both know I can’t go to the police.

  He laughs back, throws me face-down on the pillow, locks my neck firmly with one hand and tries to hold me still while grabbing my ass with the other. After a short battle, he forces his hard cock into my anus.

  I scream from a strike of burning pain.

  This only encourages him to brutalise his assault, thrusting faster and harder.

  I want to move away to escape the agony, but all I can do is keep screaming, while choking on my tears. When I lose my voice, I just continue to whisper like I’m casting a spell: ‘Please stop, you’re hurting me, please stop.’

  But he smirks in response and continues piercing my asshole until he comes.

  He rolls off my back, wiping the sweat off his smug phiz with the sheet. ‘She was right. You are a lot of fun, Victoria.’

  I get off the bed, still feeling the sharp pain, and quickly pick my clothes up off the floor.

  ‘What do you mean? Who was right?’ My voice is quiet and hoarse from screaming.

  He gives me a wide smile back, gets up to reach the cigarettes, ‘Your pimp. What’s her name? Alexandra.’ He takes a deep drag. ‘She told me you would do anything for a hit.’

  The blood floods my head and I feel like I am going to pass out, but I manage to take a few steps and get to the bathroom. I notice a few red drops running down my legs. No kidding. The fucker ruptured me.

  It’s okay, Jul. It hurts, but will not kill. Calm down and let’s get out of here first … you can cry about it later.

  I dress while suffocating from tremendous humiliation and pain. When I walk back out to the bedroom I do my best to pretend that nothing happened: I don’t want to show the bastard that I am afraid of him – or, worse, make him angry. When he sees me all dressed, he lifts his eyebrows.

  ‘I assume you are not staying overnight, Sweetie? I hope you don’t expect me to pay you the full amount.’ He enjoys every word with that damn smirk and pushes a hundred bucks into my hand. Then, he heads to the front door and opens it wide. ‘I hope you enjoyed it too, Victoria, and that I will see you again.’

  Sick motherfucker! I wish I could smash that arrogant smile off your face right now!

  But instead I take the money and leave without saying a word.

  I quickly walk down the stairs. As soon as I am on the street I start weeping: the fear and humiliation, mixed with the rage of knowing that Alexandra just set me up, make it unbearable for me. I don’t know how to handle it.

  What a bitch! I am going to trash her …

  48

  I jump into the cab and dial Alexandra.

  ‘The fucker raped me!’ I scream hoarsely at the cellphone as soon as I hear her sugary ‘hello’. ‘Is that what you meant when you told him I would do anything for a hit?’

  The driver jerks in fright, now checking on me in the rearview mirror. Luckily, we’re speaking Russian.

  ‘What are you talking about, Victoria? What happened?’

  ‘He raped my ass, and it’s all your fault, you fucking bitch!’ I utter, barely audibly, but I don’t care – she knows what I am talking about.

  ‘How’s it my fault now?’ she raises her voice. ‘You have sniffed your brains out and became a goner-junkie. Look at yourself in the mirror before you accuse anyone else! Besides …’ she returns to calm and sugary, ‘I know this client very well – he wouldn’t do anything like that. You probably agreed to it.’

  ‘Fuck you!’ I utter out loud.

  ‘Watch your language, Victoria. I am not going to tolerate you talking to me like this. Yes. I knew from day one you were “fine” to fuck without a condom. If the client requested someone with no complications, you were my first choice. No one forced you to be flexible, Victoria. You became that yourself! In fact, you should be grateful that I could give you a lot of work.’

  ‘Grateful?’ My throat is dry and itchy and I feel that I am losing my voice again, but I can’t stop and my yelling becomes hoarser, ‘For what, you fucking bitch, for my bleeding ass right now? Fuck you! Did you hear me? Fuck you!’ I say as my voice breaks down. I shut my cellphone and a wave of hot tears starts running down my face.

  The driver pulls a bottle of water from nowhere and passes it to me, then gets a box of tissues from the glove compartment.

  ‘Teşekkürler,’ I thank him, and try to calm down.

  As I walk into the apartment, angry Inna is pulling my clothes from the hangers and shelves and throwing them onto the floor, in the middle of the room.

  It looks like my day is not going to get better …

  ‘What are you doing, Inna? Are you mad?’

  She turns to me and stops
for a moment. Her eyes are red with anger and I can see that she is pretty drunk.

  ‘You dirty slut! Aside from turning into a real junkie and bringing your shit to my place, you also sleep with me in one bed, after you fuck without condoms?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ My voice sounds too weak. I have no energy to argue.

  ‘I spoke to Alexandra. She told me everything.’ Inna doesn’t calm down. ‘I want you out of my place! I don’t need a crack whore who will bring Aids and God knows what else to my place!’

  ‘No problem, girlfriend, I am out. Will fetch my stuff in a day or two. I will have to find a place to stay first … in the middle of the night.’

  * * *

  Hi my Poppy-seed!

  How are you doing?

  I have a hilarious story for you … I bet you will laugh yourself silly !

  There was a guy who Natalia trapped last night. As soon as she convinced him to spend some time with her in private, he quickly got drunk and started begging her to have sex. Natalia didn’t want to scare him away and wanted to make him buy more champagne, so she chose the storyline that she was madly attracted to him too and would have loved to fuck him right then but didn’t have any protection with her. The guy, after three hours and four bottles, got so frustrated that he asked Natalia to wait a moment and ran outside with the words, ‘I will find the condoms!’ Turned out that at the bus station across the road from the club there was a machine that sold rubbers. But then our boss arrived! He pulled into the club and headed inside as this drunken guy stormed out, bought a few condoms with shaking hands and raced back to Natalia.

  She wound up facing two frustrated men and had to be very creative . So she made the guy pay for another two bottles, because he had ‘got her in trouble’ and ‘had to make it up to her’ and then after she’d sent the drunk home, she had to listen to an hour-long lecture from the boss (of course, in French again !) on how careful she must be, otherwise he could end up in jail on pimping charges.