The Dollhouse Society: Felix (New Adult BDSM Erotica)

by Eden Myles

  Yes, I could feel a migraine coming on.

  I took a few deep breaths. I’d almost convinced myself that I was all right. Then I broke down and cried on the bathroom floor.

  ***

  Felix, I’m very concerned. Please contact me.

  I looked at the text message on the phone Mr. Ishikawa had given me. It was the seventeenth one I’d gotten from him over the past two months.

  I read it, re-read it, dedicated it to memory, and then deleted it. I sat back on the big, fluffy pillows on the bed in my room at my aunt’s house and stared vapidly at the old Holly Hobby wallpaper. When I was a little girl, my dad would often take me to see Aunt Sarah here in Castine, Maine. I usually stayed with her over the summers. Daddy felt it was important I was exposed to a female influence—or that was his reasoning, anyway.

  Castine was a beautiful and tucked away harborside town with soaring elms, grand historical homes, and quaint little inns. My Aunt Sarah had married young but she and her husband Cyril had never had children. Aunt Sarah couldn’t carry a child, but she only learned that after three miscarriages. So I had come to fill that place in their lives for a few brief summer months once a year.

  My aunt had even dressed her spare room up so it would always be mine, always be here and ready for me. Granted, the room, with its childlike wallpaper, white rattan furnishings, canopy bed and the old, stuffed Care Bears clustered on the pillows, belonged to a younger Felix, but I still felt very much at home here. Uncle Cyril was gone now—cancer, he’d died four years ago—but Aunt Sarah hadn’t changed very much over the years. She was still short, plump, and had a bottomless heart full of love and forgiveness for me.

  She’d been well-night ecstatic when I’d asked her if I could stay with her until the baby was born. I’d first went to see my dad, to break the bad news to him in person, but even though he’d been unbelievably supportive of me despite what I was heaping upon him, he felt a long series of dangerous oil rigs were not the best place for his pregnant daughter to be. For once, I had to agree with him, which is how I’d wound up at my aunt’s house right after graduation.

  I clutched a Care Bear, then stuffed Mr. Ishikawa’s phone under it and went downstairs. I was starting to feel sick again.

  Aunt Sarah, always one step ahead of me, was busy preparing a morning tray of tea and crackers for me.

  “Oh, you’re wonderful!” I told her.

  “I would have been happy to bring it up to you, dear.”

  “That’s quite all right,” I told her and stuff a Saltine in my mouth to help combat my incessant morning sickness.

  Together, we took our tea out to the deck behind the house and sat under the sun umbrella to watch the sun rise. I breathed in good, piney air mixed with sea salt, so different from New York City. I listened to the seagulls swirling overhead and felt a momentary peace.

  “You do know that morning sickness is a very good sign,” Aunt Sarah said, smiling at me overtop the rim of her teacup. “If means your child will probably be very healthy.”

  I sat beside her, sipped my tea, and ran a hand over my belly. I wasn’t showing just yet, though I knew if I kept eating Aunt Sarah’s good homemade cooking I was likely to get quite fat. “I’m sure.” I mean, it was Mr. Ishikawa’s child, and he was a very strong and healthy man. I was certain my son or daughter would be tall and handsome, with dark hair and intense eyes.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  Aunt Sarah set her teacup down. “It’s not my place to say, of course, but if you feel this pregnancy isn’t right…that now isn’t the right time…” She left it at that.

  I knew what she meant, what she was implying. “You’re right,” I told her. “I’m not ready, and now isn’t the right time. Frankly, I never saw myself having any children at all. Isn’t that funny? But I just can’t…terminate…this baby.”

  The very thought of it made me sick to my stomach. A few days after I’d learned about my pregnancy, after I started getting over the shock of it all, I’d visited one of the free clinics. I went down to the Planned Parenthood on Bleeker Street and sat in the brightly painted office, looking at all the sad, remote faces of the women, the medical pamphlets and sterile watercolor paintings on the wall, and finally started questioning my future.

  If I could get through this, I could graduate a free woman. I could even go on to be Mr. Ishikawa’s courtesan, if he still wanted me. But the moment my name was called, I remembered what Mr. Ishikawa had said about his mother forcing his father to take responsibility. A sudden horror broke over me and I stood up with my purse and ran from the clinic. No, I decided, this was my responsibility, my mistake, my burden to bear.

  At first, it seemed impossible, a bad joke. I was always so careful about taking my birth control medication in the morning. I never missed a single day. But then, when I asked my doctor about it, he said when you changed birth control medications, you were supposed to abstain from sex for a month, to give your body a chance to adjust to it. It had been in the literature he’d given me, but, of course, I hadn’t pored over that. And even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have remembered anyway, not once I was alone with Mr. Ishikawa.

  Mr. Ishikawa.

  My heart hurt each time I thought about him. I was half of the mind to get rid of the phone, wipe the last trace of him from my life. I knew it was the only way I would stop getting his incessant messages demanding I answer him, to tell him where I’d run off to. Maybe then I could begin the process of forgetting.

  As if reading my thoughts, my aunt said, “Are you certain you don’t want to contact the father, Felix?”

  “Oh god, no.” I set my cup down with a clink on my saucer. “I couldn’t face him. Besides, it would do no good. He wouldn’t want a baby.” I flashed back to that time in Central Park, when we’d watched the children play baseball on the diamond, and the expression on Mr. Ishikawa’s face, like he smelled something bad. I knew how much he hated children. I knew how sad and angry the very sight of them made him. A fatherless child who had never really recovered from the rejection he’d experienced as a boy. I couldn’t possibly bring this to him. I couldn’t stand to see his eyes when he rejected both me and the child. I’d always thought of myself as strong, but there’s only so much a person can handle.

  Besides, I’d made all my decisions. I’d left New York, absconding like some thief in the night. I’d come here to see this thing through. My aunt had generously offered to let me work in the little flower shop she ran in town until I found something that better suited me. Like my dad before me, I would raise my child alone, single-handedly. I would give him or her everything I possibly could. I would be a good mom. And, after all, I’d had a happy childhood. I saw no reason why this child couldn’t as well.

  I was about to ask Aunt Sarah about the job again when I spotted a limousine driving up the snaky gravel road to my aunt’s house. I recognized it at once. “Oh god,” I said, standing up. “Tell him I’m not here.” I hurried inside, through the sliding glass doors, and raced up the stairs to my bedroom. I closed and locked the door, then backed up until I reached my bed and fell upon it. My heart was flitting in my throat and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  A few moments later, my bewildered aunt came up the stairs and knocked gently upon the door. “Sarah, there’s a Japanese gentleman here to see you.”

  “I told you…I’m not here.”

  “He seems very insistent.”

  “I can’t, Aunt Sarah! I can’t see him!” I’d started to cry.

  She was silent a long moment. “Is it…him?”

  “Tell him to go away. Tell him I’m not here. Tell him anything to make him leave.” I knew it was childish, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t face Mr. Ishikawa.

  I listened as she went downstairs. There was an exchange of voices. I recognized one as Mr. Ishikawa’s. Finally, a door slammed shut in anger. I let out my breath in a trembling sigh and tried to ge
t my tears under control. How in hell had he found me?

  A few minutes later, I heard Mr. Ishikawa’s steely voice come to me, just below my window. “Felix, stop playing these silly games and talk to me. I’ve come a long way to see you.”

  I lay down on my bed, grabbed a Care Bear for a shield, and shivered. Maybe, I thought, if I waited things out, he’d go away.

  “Felix, I need to speak to you. I’ll stay here as long as it takes until you face me! Felix!”

  I shivered again.

  ***

  By early evening, curiosity finally overcame my good sense.

  I climbed out of bed and went to peek out my bedroom window.

  Mr. Ishikawa was still there, still waiting as he had promised. His car was parked in the gravel drive and he was seated on the hood, dressed in one of his prim suits, a newspaper in his lap. But the moment I looked down, he seemed to sense me and looked up. I saw his eyes, the hurt and anger etched so deeply around them, and I started feeling bad all over again. “Felix…!” The softness in his voice, that control I responded to so well, was gone. He sounded hoarse, as if he’d been screaming for hours.

  “I’ll come down if you promise we can go somewhere private to talk.”

  He took a deep breath as if relieved and pushed the newspaper aside. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  I dressed in a flowered sundress and low heels and went downstairs. My Aunt Sarah, standing in the kitchen, saw me. She gave me a little nod of encouragement and squeezed my shoulder as I passed. I told her I’d be back soon.

  The moment I stepped outside the house and onto the drive, Mr. Ishikawa started toward me, then stopped, as if afraid by approaching me, he’d spook me. I lifted my chin, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and said, “How did you find me?”

  He took my hand. Relief, fear, and concern all played out on his face at once. I’d never noticed that before, how emotional he could become at times, usually around me. “The phone. It has a miniature tracking device in it. All the prototypes do.”

  “Ah.”

  Finally, he exploded. “You didn’t answer my texts, my messages…you disappeared without a trace…!”

  “I had my reasons.”

  He virtually shook with anger. I watched him close his eyes and take a deep breath. Slowly, he calmed and his face regained that beautiful, masklike peacefulness I knew so well, though it was obvious he hadn’t shaved in some time, and there were dark rings under his eyes. “Please…whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. We can talk about it.”

  “Let’s drive down to the harbor.”

  We did. When we arrived, he helped me from the car and we walked down the long, wooden pier. In some ways, it reminded me of how we used to people-watch back in New York on a Sunday afternoon, but in this case, I knew many of the people here. Bob, who owned the butcher shop on the corner, the lady who ran the nail salon next to it, the kid who cut lawns locally. I waved to them as we passed.

  “There’s an ice cream shop up ahead,” Mr. Ishikawa offered. “Would you like an ice cream?”

  I indicated a bench near the pier, with a glorious view of the harbor. “Let’s just sit here.”

  We sat and I bowed my head. I took a deep, shaky breath, stared at my feet, and just put it out there: “I made a very stupid, elemental mistake with my birth control. I’m pregnant with your baby, but I’ve decided I won’t get an abortion so you can just forget about that.” I got angrier even as I sat there. My fists clenched up. “It’s not just your baby, Alex, it’s mine too, and you have no right to pressure me. You have no rights at all, as far as I’m concerned, so you’d be better off just getting in your car and driving back to New York.”

  I was shaking and on the verge of tears when I finished. I waited, my heart thudding heavily, waited for him to shout at me, or to get up and leave, but after a long pause during which I could hear the harbor patrol passing and some buoys ringing, he said, “Felix…why on earth would you think I would force you to get an abortion?”

  I sucked back the tears in my throat and looked askance at him. He sat there like he sat everywhere, dominating the space around him. There was insult and annoyance etched on his face. “I know you hate children. I know you don’t want to hear about any of this and you hate me.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know how I feel about children, frankly. I’ve never had any, but you’re making an awful big assumption about me, Felix, and it’s making me very angry.”

  I wiped at the tears on my face with the back of my hand. I wished I’d brought a handkerchief.

  He sighed, withdrew one from his suit pocket, and took my face in his hand so he could wipe away my tears. “You ran away without a word because you thought I would hate you? Hate our child? That I would throw you, pregnant, into the street? Or force you to abort it? Felix, what is the matter with you?”

  I started to cry then, in full. The sobs just poured out of me. “It was an accident…and this arrangement we have…I know it’s not real…I know I’m not your real courtesan…not your responsibility…”

  People were looking our way, alerted to my outburst, but I didn’t care. I’d never felt so alone and miserable in all my life. I just cried and cried. Mr. Ishikawa gathered me into his lap, against his suit, held me, his big hand clutching the back of my head, until I’d wetted his suit with my tears. Finally, my crying began to subside and I was left just hiccupping. He made soft, soothing noises until I just sagged bonelessly against him.

  “Oh, Felix…” he said in reprimand. “You’re a very silly girl, do you know that?”

  I sat back and looked up at him, used his handkerchief to wipe the unladylike snot running from my nose. “Y-you’re not angry?”

  He slid his hand around my waist as he held me against him more tightly. “I’m angry you left the city without telling me. I’m angry you kept this from me. So yes, I am angry. But, my dear, I don’t hate you. Dear god, how could you believe I could hate our child? I don’t even know our child yet.” He smoothed my hair away from my tearstained face. He looked at me so fiercely I felt my heart beating fast again. “Come back to the limo with me, where it’s more private. We can discuss what we’re going to do there.”

  I got up and let him lead me back to the car. Once we were inside, he grabbed me by the cheeks and dragged me against him. He kissed me like he wanted to crawl inside of me. He raked his fingers through my hair, holding me in place so he could tangle his tongue with mine. Finally, his hands dropped to my dress and he lifted the hem and undid himself so I could feel his heat and strength against the front of me. He held me still and rocked his hips in a smooth up and down motion, still kissing me, teasing over my opening until I moaned into his mouth.

  “Is it safe?” he whispered against my lips. “Felix…I can’t hurt the baby?”

  “No,” I told him, smiling softly against his kiss. “You can’t, Alex. Not now. It’s still too small.”

  His eyes burned with desire. He lifted me and let me plunge down upon me. He held me tightly in his embrace as he moved inside me, filled me.

  I moved with him, my kisses all along his face as I felt my heart fill with love and light. “Do you want the baby? Really want the baby?”

  His arms tightened around me. “Christ, Felix, I want you. I want the baby. I want both of you.”

  We lunged together and came together. He filled me and I settled down upon him with a sigh. I’d never felt so full and complete as I did with him, and I wanted to stay like this forever. I wanted to spend forever in his arms.

  But I still had a question. “I thought…I thought this was just an arrangement.”

  “It was,” he said. In the dark, his eyes were slits full of light and wonder. “I have a confession, my dear. That first night at the Dollhouse, the gentleman all knew you didn’t belong there. You didn’t fool us at all. But after we got together to talk about it, we decided I should approach you, try and convince you to find another subject for your article.” He paused and swallowed, his Adam’s
apple bobbing. I felt his hesitation. He smoothed his fingers down over my cheeks and I sucked them into my mouth. “That’s what it was when it began. But that’s not what it turned into.”

  I was glad it was dark in the limo, that he couldn’t see me blushing like a fool. “I’m glad I didn’t write the article. It would have felt too much like I was betraying you.” I ran my hand over his braided ponytail as I kissed him. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a journalist. Not cutthroat enough.”

  “Perhaps not,” he agreed. “But if you ever wanted to get in touch with your inner geek and come work for my company in the research department, you have a place. Both as my employee and as my courtesan.”

  My heart started thudding again. “Do you mean that, Alex? Really?”

  He smiled in the dark, a genuine smile. “Oh, Felix my courtesan. My wonderful, wonderful courtesan.”

  ***

  About the Author

  Eden Myles lives in the rural northeast with her family and two demanding cats. She is a vixen with a laptop and the head whip-cracker at Courtesan Press. To see all of her titles, visit http://courtesanpress.wordpress.com.

  ***

  Read an excerpt from Red (50 Shades of Fairy Tales) by Madeline Apple:

  Frank Lupo was the type of guy you fell in love with at first sight—and then quickly learned the error of your ways. I know because I was one of the stupid ones who did, the first day on the job, no less.

  Frank was my boss and half owner of Lupo & Mayer, Accountants. He was tall and powerfully built, with the lean, broad physique of a guy who had probably done track in high school and football in college. He wore his perfectly black hair slicked back Mafioso-style and his goatee trimmed and tight. His eyes were icy blue and his teeth the porcelain white of a man with good genetics as opposed to a good dentist. He looked like the devil, if the devil was an accountant. He wore no wedding ring, though he did have a football ring from Rutgers University. Real movie-star material, I thought dreamily that first day I found myself working in one of the biggest accounting firms in New York City.