by Caroline Day
‘I’ll open the door,’ I shout from the kitchen.
Adam probably can't hear me anyway, he's wearing headphones and texting Nancy. He doesn't care that Dad may need help with carrying gifts and other things. Just like always.
But it is not my parents. A stranger is standing in the doorway. I doubt he came to celebrate Christmas. A tall man in the black hat and coat with snowflakes all over it. He keeps looking at me in silence, as if waiting for something.
Why did I think that it was my parents? I haven't heard the sound of an approaching car.
‘Who are you looking for?’ I ask the stranger. He is probably our new neighbor.
‘I need to see Dolores and Adam Brown,’ he says in a low voice.
‘I am Dolores.’
‘What about your brother?’
‘Hey, Lo, I’m about to gobble up your turkey! Oh, good evening, sir. Merry Christmas!’ Adam exclaims joyfully, going down the stairs. ‘Are you looking for our parents? They're not home. Any message for them?’
The man glances at my brother, then turns to me. His coal-black eyes are searching my face. But he keeps silent, he doesn't answer my brother's questions. It’s like he's trying to figure out what to say.
‘I'm sorry to be the one to break the news to you.’
‘What are you talking about?’ we stare at the man in surprise.
‘Your parents were killed in a car accident. Please accept my condolences.’
At this moment time stopped. Seconds, minutes, hours. They do not matter when the same thoughts are running in my head and I still can’t wrap my mind around this. The man is lying. How could he know this? Why did he come to tell us the news? Where are cops? This is definitely some kind of prank.
How does he know our parents?
‘I know this is hard for you, especially on Christmas Eve, but you need to come for identification. Forensics are waiting,’ he raps out the words, as if he's been practicing in front of the mirror for hours.
‘I...’
‘I’ll go,’ Adam says in a stern voice. ‘Stay at home, and you,’ he turns to the stranger, ‘go with me.’
‘Adam…’
‘You shouldn’t see it,’ he says, leans his face next to my ear, and whispers. ‘Don't let anyone in or out. Do not respond to calls. I bet the man is lying. I'll make sure of it and call you, okay? Wait for my call and don't put your phone away. If something happens, call me or Andrew right away.’
I believed my brother at that moment. I believed that everything would be all right, that some madman decided to play a trick on our family, and keep us apart. I kept hoping for the best. I didn’t let myself cry, did my best to be optimistic. Until Adam called me.
He confirmed my worst fears.
We were seventeen. Graduation class, exam preparation, college applications, search for scholarship. Friends. These were the only issues that concerned us at the time until the day our parents suddenly died.
The accident changed our lives dramatically. And not for the better, as you can guess. There was nobody to blame.
The day was too hard. The teachers made the most of us, no one from the group left the library during breaks, and after the exam, we left the classroom with small drops of sweat on our faces. No way to get in the Christmas spirit when things go that way. Andrew complained that his boss never let him go home in time, and he didn't get enough sleep. The examination period may exhaust anyone, even me.
My head is empty, like there are no thoughts at all, but I keep lying in my bed, looking in snow-white ceiling, and thinking about the past. Memories about our last happy Christmas eve, and about nasty things I did to get thirty thousand pounds.
It took me quite a lot of time to decide how to spend the rest of money. The first thing that came to my mind was to take out a mortgage, but then I realized that Adam would be in the hospital for a long time, and my dorm room was more than enough for me. The decision came quickly and became a reality as quickly – I put the money in a savings account. When Adam is released from the hospital, we will buy a house in the suburbs, maybe even the one where we lived before our parents died. Everything will be all right. I've got to be patient. Things are getting better.
Another month and it'll all be over.
I have nobody to share my thoughts with. Andrew either works or prepares for another exam, and he half listens to me. As for Alice, she hasn't returned my messages yet. She came upon me like a bolt from the blue, and suddenly disappeared. It's odd, isn’t it? She invited me to her place, lent me an outfit, got me a job, if prostitution is considered a job, and...
Heck! Why didn't this idea come to my mind earlier? I don't remember her address, but it must be in the call history. I took a taxi to get home from there. Damn, I've lost so much time!
I quickly change my clothes, run to the subway, and an hour later, I find myself standing by Alice’s dwelling on the Thames embankment. That’s the place where everything began. Dear me! The apartment house next to Alice’s dwelling is the one where I met the mysterious stranger for the first time! How could I miss it before?
‘Who are you looking for?’ asks the concierge, an elderly woman in thick glasses.
‘Alice Lasky.’
‘Let me check it,’ she looks at the computer screen, and then frowns at me: ‘She doesn't live here anymore.’
‘Are you kidding?’
‘No! She signed out. The apartment has been rented by another girl.’
That's news to me. She moved away and told me nothing! Why should she tell me anything though? I wish I had realized it earlier. We're not best friends. We don’t do the nails together; neither do we talk about guys. We’ve never done it, not to mention our relationships at school.
But she’s the only person who can support me during this difficult period.
‘Do you know her new address?’ I ask her, still hoping to find Alice.
‘Unfortunately, she didn’t leave it. Have a nice day,’ the woman says firmly and points her fat finger at the door.
Why does she look at me like I am rubbish? Oh, sure, this is an elite dwelling area, they don't let just anybody in. I'm surprised I was able to get into the lobby.
Anyway, the question is still open. Where should I look for Alice? Did she disappear voluntarily, or did something happen to her? Okay, I'm not going to play detective, let's just pretend that she's okay, and I’ve just screwed myself up. Who will advise me if I have difficulties with a client? If I can't undergo his challenges? What should I do?
I am almost desperate until...
Anonymous: ‘Go to the studio where we met the first time. The accessories are prepared. You’ve got half an hour.’
The message takes me by surprise. On the one hand, I can relax and take my time; on the other hand, another encounter with the stranger frightens me with the unknown.
The unknown that can either take me to heaven or ruin me…
Chapter 12.
I gather my courage, go outside, breathe in the frosty fresh air, and go to the next apartment building. My knees shake just a little, and my gait is steady, not like that of a drunken senile, but I'm still nervous. The concierge gives me a key card to the apartment, and gestures at the elevators.
I take the lift to the thirtieth floor and enter the familiar studio. The room is illuminated by street lights, the windows are not curtained as they were then, but the room is still dark. I wish I could get here at the daytime. I doubt that's a good idea, though. My room is good enough, it's very nice.
Anonymous: ‘Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.’
I am no longer frightened but surprised by his request. He used to take my clothes off by himself, and not all of them, so this is something new to me. Without asking any further questions, trying to hide my embarrassment, I strip off my clothes and lie down on the soft satin bed. The sheets are not red, as I thought at first, they are light purple. What a strange choice for a bachelor studio.
Anonymous: ‘Take a small bo
x next to the pillow. There is a cam in it. Point it at yourself, push the play button, and call me.”
I would call it a tiny lens rather than a camera. At least it looks like that. It fits my hand well. But pointing it at me... At my naked body, glinting in the light of a small bedside lamp. Isn't that a little bit rash? Where will this video be sent then? He can post the video online! No, I'd better put the camera aside. Let’s point it at the ceiling.
I dial his number and turn on the loudspeaker. After three beeps, a familiar hoarse voice says:
‘Did you miss me?’
You can say that, yes. I don't know what to tell to the voice that makes me feel nervous again. Getting worried.
‘Why can't I see you?’
Did he set up a live broadcast? I am getting even more worried since the probability that someone else will see me besides him increases dramatically.
‘Why do you want to see me?’ my voice is shaking a little. I hope he hasn’t noticed.
‘I want to please myself. Don't forget why you are here.’
‘Are you going to post the video?’
‘No,’ he says calmly, and I let out a sigh of relief. I don't think anyone would like to see the ceiling.’
Heck! What about my naked body? How can I make sure that he won’t do it? There is no such clause in the contract, and the man can do what he wants, and I can't stop him.
‘Show yourself,’ the harsh voice suddenly comes over the loudspeaker.
‘But...’
‘The broadcasting is set up for my device only. I am not recording.’
I guess I can relax. Calm down, Dolores. Everything is okay, obey his orders. But it doesn't work out. My heart is beating a hundred times a minute, and I can barely breathe. At least my vision is not all jittery.
Where is the blindfold, by the way? He didn’t mention it, and I don’t see it around. Am I supposed to see today? There’s nothing to hide here though. I’ve already been in this apartment, and apparently, the man is not going to come. His voice is everything I have today.
‘Are you ready?’
I wish I could say no but even my utter refusal can't stop the stranger from execution of his plan.
‘Have you ever heard the saying – A woman falls in love through her ears?’ he disturbs my inner peace again.
‘Yes.’
‘Then listen to me and do what I say. Look at the camera.’
I’m staring intently at the camera, raising my eyebrow. What about making faces? I guess I shouldn't do it. He may charge some penalties. No, it's better be careful.
‘Curve your body. Show me yourself. Pretend you're trying to get my attention.’
I bet the best way to get his attention is to get dressed quickly and run away from the man's piercing eyes. I wonder what color his eyes are. What's shape? Are they big or small? Why should I care though?
‘Lower the camera and show your breasts,’ another order follows. After a while, the harsh voice breaks the silence again. ‘Well done. Now, squeeze your nipple. Come on.’
I’m squeezing my sensitive flesh. Twisting it. I feel the blood slowly rushing to the top of my breast, making it harden. Light heat is spreading throughout my body. Tingling. Making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I try to put the sensation away until the challenge is over.
It looks a lot like a strange performance where I act the part of a puppet that fulfills every order of the puppeteer. An emotionless, insensitive puppet. But that’s not what he needs. He wants to make sure that I enjoy it. Physically but not morally.
‘Look at the cam! Don’t close your eyes!’
Succumbing to the sweet bliss, I didn’t notice that I managed to close my eyes. He's right – a woman falls in love through her ears. She listens to every word, soaks it with her mind, interprets it, or vice versa – she distorts reality.
A woman loses her mind without even knowing it.
What about me? Am I losing my mind?
‘Squeeze your breast. Good girl. Now, slowly stroke yourself. Your tummy. Lower. Good girl!’
I follow his orders reflexively, and get involved in this game without realizing it. His vicious game. Hot, wildly thrilling game.
‘Spread your legs wider. That's it. Point the camera at your pussy and caress yourself.’
I’ doing what he says, and a wave of heat washes over me. I must stop it. I have to say no. But I can't do it. I have no choice.
‘Remember how much you enjoyed when I licked your crease. Do you remember how you moaned softly?’
I do remember. My thoughts are full of contradictions. I feel both pleasure and devastation at the same time. But my body starts shuddering when he reminded me about his skillful tongue between my legs.
‘You were trembling. Your hips moved to me. I squeezed your ass hard to keep it still. Do you still have bruises?’
Yes, my butt is still bruised. At first I couldn't realize how I got it but then I remembered about that night in the club, which I still can't wrap my mind around. But I can’t think about it now. I’m listening intently to the hoarse voice that comes from the loudspeaker, viciously looking at the lens, knowing that my face is not visible now. I caress myself. My touches are awkward and stiff.
‘Come on, girl. You are all wet. Put your finger in. Good. Pull it out. Taste yourself. You are sweet, right? I know you enjoy it. Do it again. Come on, baby. Do a circle. Imagine that my tongue is licking you.’
What is he doing to me? Why is it so wet down there? Why am I willing to do everything he says? I am ready to follow his words, his actions, his orders, even minor requests.
But it feels so good...
‘Cum for me. Don't hold it back.’
I am not going to. I feel a huge wave is bringing me closer to the peak of pleasure, and it is ready to demolish everything on its way. All the memories, prejudices, doubts. It sweeps me off my feet, giving me a jollop of happiness hormones.
‘Well done. Good girl! Turn off the cam and go home. You’ve got a tough day tomorrow.’
He gets off the phone. Silence is spreading throughout the studio, gives a break and allows me to reflect on his last words. How could he know about the tough day? Has he been spying on me, or was it just a lucky guess? Instead of studying for exams, I'm lying in a luxury studio on the thirtieth floor, recovering my breath after masturbating for camera.
But I had to earn money for my brother. Here we go again with excuses. Once again, I have a sudden attack of the blues that has haunted me since my last encounter with the stranger. I don't even know his name. Do I need to know it if we break up in a month?
I have to distract myself. This person can control me, spy on me, intervene in my life. He’s got my body but he never gets my soul. That's not necessary for both of us. Probably.
I put my clothes on, get out of the studio, and go outside. I feel chill. I feel lonely. He's right, I have a tough day tomorrow, and I have to be prepared for anything, as well as the others.
‘Hi Andrew. Are you at home?’ I ask after a few beeps. There was no need to ask. I hear neither music nor glass clinking on the background.
‘Yes. Why do you ask?’
‘I can't sleep. Let's prepare for exams together.’
Yes. Why do you ask?’
At least someone in this world will not leave me alone with emptiness and self-disgust. It's better not to tell him where I was. I shouldn’t tell this to anyone.
Chapter 13.
Once again, I am in the dark, cold silk embraces my face, mint air burns my lips, and my body is... naked. I am naked. I would chilly if it weren’t for the warm male’s body laying by my side. Strong body. Only he smells this way, only he can first caress, and then sharply slap me. Suddenly. Making me shudder.
‘Bend down,’ I hear the hoarse command. ‘Come on, give us a buzz.’
I do what he says. I bend down, resting my palms on the rough surface. My protruding butt sticks out. It moves towards a strong hand that is stroking my buttock, slowly moves a
round it, and vanishes between my legs. He’s touching my most sensitive and wet flesh.
‘It's time for you to scream.’
I cannot disobey him. I am screaming. At the top of my lungs. Without a sheer idea if my scream is caused by pleasure or pain. I scream until I cum under the pressure of his strong hands. Pressure of his hot body. Until...
I suddenly hear a loud knock at the door in the background. Or was it the door banging against the wall? I have no idea. I can't tell now when his hand is caressing my soft spot. It's only when it disappears, and the cool wind wraps me in a shroud and makes my skin crawl, my mind finally concentrates on what is happening around me.
‘Whore!’ The shout sounds like a bolt from the blue. The voice is painfully familiar; it makes me shudder with fear. The voice I’ve known since I was a child...
‘Dad?’
I turn my head in the direction of the noise, listening to the strict notes. The black silk soaks my salt tears. It tears me apart from the inside. I can't believe he's here. He is standing next to me, swearing at my stranger in an incomprehensible language.
He sees me in this condition; he calls me a bitch...
‘How could you get into this mess? You let this man treat you like that! You have no shame!’
‘’Daddy!’
I don't care what nasty things he says. I want to take off the black silk that I've got accustomed to during these days and see him. But I can't. I can’t move my fingers. The silk seems to stick to my skin.’
‘Bitch!’
‘Dad…’
‘You are a lousy whore!’
‘Dad! Daddy!’
‘Wake up, Lo!’
All the voices around suddenly disappear, and the third voice breaks into my head. Andrew. It makes me return to reality and see the blazing sun outside the window.
Damn it! What's it all about?
‘Come on, wake up! We're late for the exam!’
The guy is tearing around. He gets dressed, throws papers into his backpack, and fitfully fishes a fresh sweatshirt out of the closet. I don't know what's going on until my eyes meet the digital clock. It’s 9 AM. Damn it!
