by JB Duvane
The harsh light of reality made me squint and everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours hit me like a ton of bricks. Telling Max about what I’d done, the basement, the way he’d looked at me with such hatred, and the handful of pills. After laying there with my eyes closed for another few minutes I tried to open them again. I didn’t understand where I was. It didn’t feel like that horrible room. The bed felt soft and there was so much light I had to shield my eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
The sound of Max’s voice sent a shiver down my spine. I let my arm rest on my eyes to block everything out and tried to think.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You don’t remember?”
I turned my head toward his voice and opened my eyes again. “I took some pills …”
“And you vomited them up. If I hadn’t seen the empty bottle I wouldn’t have known until it was too late. You’ve been unconscious for days. You almost died, Emily.” Max was sitting in a chair near the bed—his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
“Yeah, so?” His voice sounded softer somehow—with a gentleness that I hadn’t heard before. But still, I knew how much he hated me. I knew I’d never win him back, so what was the point of even trying.
“Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten in days. I was going to hook you up to an IV if you didn’t wake up soon.”
“Not really.”
“Well, will you eat a little … for me?”
I kept my head turned toward him but didn’t look up into his eyes. “Okay. I’m thirsty.”
Max helped me sit up a little and brought a glass of water to my lips. He held it there for me while I took little sips, wincing with every swallow. The muscles in my stomach and skin in my throat were both incredibly sore.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“A little, but I’m okay.”
“Do you think you could swallow some yogurt?” I nodded my head but still kept my eyes down on the bedspread. Max opened up a container that he had on the table next to the bed and dipped a spoon in. I felt better after taking a few bites of the yogurt. It felt nice and cool on my throat. “Do you like that?”
I nodded. I felt like I was being treated like a child but I couldn’t help but love the feeling since it was Max. Having him take care of me like this made me feel like he actually cared. But then thinking about everything that had happened made every muscle in my body cringe. “You should have just let me die.”
“I don’t want you to die, Emily.”
“I fucked everything up.” I was still so weak that I could barely get the words out. “It’s never going to be the same.”
“That’s not true, at all. Besides, maybe I don’t want things to be like they were.”
“Well, the bottom line is you don’t want me here, so what difference does it make?”
“What do you mean ‘I don’t want you here?’ I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.”
“But that was before—“ My words caught in my throat and I started to cry. I heard the chair move closer to the bed, then I felt Max’s hand brush my bangs off my forehead, but I couldn’t look at him. I was humiliated.
“I still want you here with me. I don’t want you to go anywhere.”
“You mean down in that room in the basement? Do you want to keep me down there?” My head was turned away from him again. His voice sounded different today but I couldn’t bear the thought of looking into those eyes that had looked at me with such hatred. “I guess it’s better than going to jail.”
“Emily,” he started but then paused for a moment. “Will you please look at me?”
I slowly turned my head, pausing a little while to stare at the shadows on the ceiling. I was terrified. Every ounce of my being wanted Max—had wanted him for years. Even now. Even after I’d been held down in that horrible room, I was still willing to let him have his way with me. Just as long as he didn’t make me leave. I felt pathetic.
When I finally looked over at Max he was sitting up but he was still hunched over with his elbows on his knees. His eyes were filled with concern and had dark circles underneath. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. I just stared into those dark eyes for a while, trying to work up the courage to ask him if he really had kissed me or if that was just a dream. A part of the peace that took over my body when the drugs hit my system.
“I’m not going to turn you over to the police. I don’t think that will help you at all. But I do think you need help, Emily.”
“I’m a total fucking mess, aren’t I?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. What I did was wrong too—I admit that. What I’m saying is that I don’t think either a jail or a mental hospital are going to provide you with the support you need. I’ve seen how strong you are and I believe that you can get better … and I want to be the one to help you.”
“You mean, you want me to stay here as your patient?”
“Yes.”
“Like my mother was your patient?”
Max paused for a moment and looked down at his hands.
“Emily, I want to make something clear right now. Nothing that has gone on between us has been anything like what went on between your mother and me.” He looked back up at me and the seriousness in his eyes took my breath away. “There is no comparison between the two of you. You are different people and I have felt very different about each of you. I am not trying to replace her with you.
“I’ve been thinking about everything that has happened over the last few years and I know that a lot of what I’ve done has come from a dark place. But the way I feel about you? You’re the only person that has made me genuinely happy in years. There are certain things that happened between us that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind—“
“You mean that night? When I watched you and my mother from the hallway?”
Max stopped talking and looked surprised. “So, you do remember that night?”
“Of course I do. I’ve thought about it for years too. I fell in love with you that night. All I could think about while I was watching you—and every night since then—is what it would feel like to be my mother. To have you inside me and to have one-hundred percent of your attention on me. I found out once I got here and it wasn’t anything like I had imagined it would be. It didn’t feel the same as it did that night—even with you not touching me at all. Ever since I’ve been here you’ve felt like you were miles away instead of inside me.” I looked back up at the ceiling for a moment to gather my courage. “Did you kiss me, Max? I don’t know if it was a dream or—“
“Yes, after I brought you to bed I kissed your forehead. You smiled.”
“It made me happy.” I turned and looked into his eyes. “It’s all I’ve wanted since I’ve been here—it’s all I’ve wanted for years. To feel as close to you as I did that night. But instead I feel like I’ve been pushed further away every time I’m near you.”
“I’m sorry. You’re not the only one that’s a mess, Emily.”
“Will you kiss me now?”
Max looked down and continued to stare at his hands for a long time. “I think for now it’s best if you just rest. Your body went through a lot with the overdose and—“
“That’s bullshit. Why won’t you let me get close to you, Max? Why do you want me here if you don’t want to have anything to do with me? I’m just a warm hole for you to stick your cock in, I guess.” I was still so weak that what I said barely came out above a whisper but I was so frustrated I was on the verge of crying again.
“That’s not true, and you know it. Please, Emily. Why don’t you try to get some more sleep and we can talk about this later? I’m exhausted and I really could use some sleep myself.”
“Okay,” I said. I watched Max get up from the chair and walk to the door.
“I’ll be in to check on you in a little while. Do you need anything?”
“No.”
Max went through the door and closed it behind him, the
n I heard the lock on the door click.
I didn’t really understand what was going on with him. I felt like from the beginning I’d gotten nothing but mixed signals and vague answers to my questions.
I just lay there for hours wishing that he were there next to me with his arms wrapped around me. That seemed to me like it would be the best therapy of all.
Possibilities (Max)
I had no idea how I was going to do this. I truly wanted what was best for Emily. I wanted her to stay with me and to make sure she got the care and support she needed, but I also knew that it was going to be near impossible for me to keep my hands off of her. I felt like a madman when I thought about what I still wanted to do to her. It seemed like everything she had done was stirring up feelings in me that could only be alleviated by sticking my cock in a wet hole.
She killed her own mother for christ’s sake. And she claims she did it for us. I didn’t doubt that at all, but I was unsure of how to proceed with everything now that I had that knowledge. Now that I knew what she was capable of.
My mind was so messed up I didn’t know what thoughts were based in reality anymore and what thoughts were products of fears that lived deep inside me. Fears I’d never felt the need to address.
I felt like I was in a hole that was so deep I might as well dig down to get out.
I slept for hours and when I woke up I went in to check on Emily. She was asleep so I made some tea and took it in to her with a variety of soft foods for her to choose from. I felt like the only thing I could offer her right now was food because if I started to get close to her I was going to want to pin her down and fuck her.
Emily stirred when I set the tray down on the table next to the bed.
“Max?” She turned her head toward me and a faint smile spread across her face.
“Are you hungry? I brought you some tea. And here’s some more yogurt and some apple sauce and pudding, and some cookies you can soften in your tea,” I said, picking each item up and showing it to her.
When I looked up again she was smiling even wider. “I’ll just have some tea for now. But can I have it in the bath? It feels like I haven’t taken one in days.”
“That’s probably because you haven’t.”
Emily scooted to the edge of the bed and let her feet dangle. “Thank you.”
Her smile was so sad it made me want to throw her down on the bed and jump on top of her right then. Instead I picked up the tray and carried it into the bathroom. I set it down and drew a bath and while I waited for it to fill I fixed her tea with milk and sugar. I leaned against the counter and watched her as she sat on the toilet and took little sips, then fixed a cup for myself.
We sat in silence for a while, just drinking the tea and making eye contact off and on. I watched her self-conscious movements become more exaggerated each time she looked up and saw me stare at her. I liked that I had that effect on her. I liked to watch her squirm, but suddenly I was starting to feel like all of my impulses were wrong, especially where she was concerned.
When the bath was ready Emily set down her tea and stepped into the bath. When she sank down into the hot water, she let out the sexiest groan I’d ever heard. It sounded both deep and high-pitched at the same time, like two voices singing the same note together and blending into one. I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of her silky smooth skin and her breasts as they bobbed on top of the water. I grabbed a wash cloth and put some coconut scented soap on it, then knelt down next to the bathtub and rubbed it on her skin.
Emily let me wash her, moving her around to clean each of her body parts. It was incredible to feel so intimate with her and her body, like I was taking care of a very expensive possession—which is exactly what I was doing. I wanted to make sure that my little doll was safe and healthy and perfect. I didn’t want to send her away and I couldn’t let her leave. I knew that this was best for both of us. She would take care of me and my needs and I would do the same for her. We would help each other.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to be everything Emily needed, at least not right away. But no relationship is ever that perfect, and I knew I could help her in ways that no one else could.
I watched Emily as she lay back in the bathtub and closed her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Emily.”
She opened her eyes and looked at me. She didn’t look sad or angry, in fact, she looked more at peace than I’d seen her in a long time—maybe ever. “Can you forgive me, Max?”
I looked at her for a long moment, then down at the mounds of white bubbles that swirled around on the surface of the bath water. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m the one that needs to forgive you, Emily. I think you need to forgive yourself.”
“It would be easier for me to live out the rest of my life hating myself than it would be to know that you hated me.”
“I could never hate you. I don’t understand how you could even think that.” I continued to swirl the bathwater around with the wash cloth in my hand, watching the bubbles collect around Emily’s perfect breasts.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t actually know how you feel about me. You haven’t said a thing other than how you felt about …”
“Yes, I know. I do realize that I made a mistake telling you about what went on between your mother and me—“
“But that’s not really it. I might have been able to handle your stories about how much you loved her if I’d had anything to go on—if I’d had any idea at all how you felt about me.” Suddenly Emily completely disappeared under the water, then popped back up. “I need to wash my hair.”
I grabbed the bottle of shampoo and put some in my hand, then massaged it gently into Emily’s scalp. “I do realize that I’m not the best and revealing the things I’m feeling to women, Emily. But you have to understand that I haven’t had to. It’s not in my nature. Close your eyes.” I turned the bath wand on and rinsed the soap out of her hair. “Now stand up.” Emily stood up in the bathtub and I continued to rinse off the soap and shampoo, watching the rivers of white bubbles create delicate paths down the curves of her body.
“I like this,” she said, smiling and looking up at me. “It makes me feel special.”
“You are special, Emily. You are very special to me, and I’m sorry I haven’t told you that. I know that you came here with certain expectations and I’d be lying if I said that I was going to change and suddenly be who you want me to be. That’s not who I am. But now that I know more about what you need, I’ll try and be more open with you. I can’t make any promises, though.”
Emily stepped out of the bath and onto a white, fluffy rug. She looked almost angelic standing there, with beads of water glistening over every inch of her skin. I grabbed a thick towel off one of the racks and wrapped it around her.
“I want you to do whatever you want to me, Max.”
“What do you mean, like shock treatment?” I said with a laugh as I rubbed the towel on her hair.
Emily furrowed her brow and gave me a wide-eyed glare. “No! Of course I don’t mean that!”
“Relax, Emily. It was a joke.”
“I know, it just caught me off guard, is all.” A smile finally crept up on the sides of her mouth. “I meant sexually. I want you to know that I’m okay with whatever you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured to let me kiss you or touch you.” A hint of sadness returned to her face again as she continued. “I just want to be with you, Max, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy. You can tie me up and tell me what to do. I want you to do those things.” Her eyes took on a darkness suddenly and she looked away. “I just don’t want you to put me down in the basement ever again. Please.” Her eyes were filled with tears again when she looked back up and it just about broke my heart. I couldn’t believe what I’d done to her. How callously I’d treated her. I was a monster and I didn’t deserve her.
“I won’t put you down there ever again, Emily. That place was never meant for you.”
“Who was it meant for, then?” She look
ed at me inquisitively and I was at a loss. There was no way I could tell her about the other girls.
“It was an experimental room that I used … years ago. It’s nothing for you to worry about. I promise, I’ll never put you down there again.” It wasn’t lost on me that I was already lying to her. I had actually planned on putting her down there if she’d gotten out of hand, which I’d had a feeling she would. But that was in the past. I wanted to focus on us both moving forward.
“Do you still want to tie me to the bed?”
The conversation was starting to make me a little bit uncomfortable. Not because I was worried that the part of me that wanted to tie her up needed to change. There were plenty of psychological abnormalities that I believed could be changed in a person—things that would help that person function better and live a happier life. And I knew deep down that I had some issues that probably needed be dealt with.
But I knew damn well that keeping the other girls in the basement as my playthings had been wrong. I knew they were too messed up to begin with to know what was really going on and that part of me got off on that. But I did not see my sexual preference for a slave as one of the things that needed to change—or as an abnormality at all.
People do change throughout their lives—the things they like to do, foods they like to eat, as well as sexual interests. But it was my firm belief that trying to change those things—forcing a change—was essentially pointless.
The reason I was uncomfortable was because this was Emily. She was not one of the girls I’d kept in the basement. I cared about her and I truly wanted to see her move past her pain—but I was starting to worry that foisting my sexual preferences on her would be detrimental to her therapy. It was the first time that thought had ever occurred to me in relation to a woman.
“What I want is for you to rest and get better. I want to spend some time exploring your childhood and your relationships with both of your parents as well as your own sexuality. I think that would be best—”
“Cut the doctor bullshit, Max! Tell me what you want. Tell me if you want me to be a part of any of the things you want to do. I need to know.”
