by Caroline Day
Well, I would also be offended if someone put his debt on me. I would have been offended if I had known nothing about any debts but some furious buggers armed with bats suddenly broke into my apartment. That’s weird. Andrew never spoke about the incident. Why? Who knows... It’s clear as day that they wanted to protect me. And that fact infuriates me wildly. Anyway, I am mired in these affairs, so they could tell me. Both of them!
Fuck!
‘What were you thinking about? Why did you get into debt?’ I raise up my voice without noting it.
‘I don't remember! Got it?’ Adam almost yells at me, clutching the blanket. Her lashless eyes are wide open, and anger in his gaze is ready to burst out and capture me. It has already captured me. ‘It came to my mind when I got here. Andrew came to me the day I went to the hospital and never came back.’
‘He told me that he never...’
‘He was here. Once. And I’ve never seen him again,’ he says in a slightly lower voice, ‘I am a lousy friend. I am a useless brother. I deserved this disease.’
‘Stop it! Don’t say that!’ I move closer to my only loved one, raise his head, bald after chemo, and look into his eyes. I feel like I am staring straight into his soul, trying to persuade both him and me. ‘You made a mistake. These things happen. The main thing is that you will not cross the crooked step again! Listen, you’ll get out of the hospital, we’ll buy the house and live happily ever after. Everything will be as before and...’
‘It won't,’ he interrupts me, ‘You can't bring your parents back.’
‘We'll get used to live without them. We’ll manage it, believe me...’
I’m trying to make my brother believe things that seem impossible to me. But I can’t accept it. It will probably take me years to recover.
‘You are always so positive. I lack it sometimes.’
He gave me sincere, almost joyful smile. But his facial expression still looks bitter, as well as mine, I guess. Adam presses me to his bosom and gives me a weak hug. I relish ever second in his warm embrace. It's nice to feel relaxed and sensate that there is still life in his weak chest.
It still hurts my feelings when I think of the terrible events of the past three years, during which I was the only one to support our family. I tried to reach out to Adam when I had found out where he'd been all the time and what he'd been doing instead of taking classes and working at the coffee shop.
Things were complicated but we managed until we got a call from the hospital and found out about a disappointing diagnosis. That was the lesson I learned that day – All that time, I've been fighting all alone. I've been fighting for my brother’s consciousness, for his treatment, for his life without any help. His surgery cost me a lot.
A lot of money and... Other things.
And now it's up to me to put him on the straight and narrow, and stop him from drifting into crime.
‘Are you all right? How was Christmas eve?’ My brother brings me back down to earth by looking into my eyes. Just like a couple of weeks ago, when I couldn't lie to him and always told the truth. When did I learn to evade his questions and deceive him?
‘As ever. I visited our parents' grave and met Sean at the cemetery. By the way, he asked me about you...’
I fall silent suddenly and start thinking of the yesterday's events. I’m recalling them minute by minute, second by second. I would have gone into more detail if my brother's face hadn't been so tense.
‘What did he ask you?’ Adam asks sternly.
‘You know, all that stuff about your health, about our life. He came to London recently. I didn’t ask him why, though.’
I don't mention that Sean called him weird. Adam doesn’t need to know that.
‘Do you often see each other?’ His voice still sounds tense.
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘You shouldn’t see him.’
‘Why?’ Surprised, I looked into his clear blue eyes.
‘Just don't fool around with him. I don't want you to cry yourself to sleep again after another break up,’ he grins bitterly.
Adam is right. It's no good. To be honest, I don't quite understand his request, but who cares? After all, I have more important issues than my ex.
‘As for Andrew,’ I say, getting back to the earlier point, ‘you shall call him. I think he'll forgive you.’
‘Why are you sure?’
‘Because you're two idiots who need to talk to each other and settle the things,’ but I don’t say it out loud.
‘Because he was worried about you when you had the surgery.’
I am once again convinced that they are still friends, no matter what happened between them. Despite Andrew’s sexual orientation, resentment, and other stuff that life has thrown at them. My brother's eyes immediately light up and lose the transparent hue.
I stayed in the hospital for a long time until the nurse on duty escorted me out. I left the chicken to Adam. It's okay, I can cook more at home. I have a lot of free time now. I'll either drop in to the bar later, talk to Andrew to set the stage for a conversation with my brother, or just stay in my room. Another option is to get to the uni party. No, that should be too much.
But all these thoughts fade into the background when a familiar name appears on my phone’s screen.
‘Hi, Lo! Thanks Lord, I finally get you,’ Melanie babbles in an indignant voice. ‘Where is your girl?’
What girl is she talking about? Sure, I sent Alice to the restaurant to get a job. She didn't like the idea of taking my position, but she accepted my offer.
‘I told her to come. What's happened?’
‘She's vanished! She worked for a week, and now she's gone! We are searching for her for two days. She doesn't answer the phone! Got you any ideas where she can be?’
The question takes me by surprise. We haven't kept in touch for a while, and she uses to ignore social networks sometimes.
‘I’ll check on her.’
Just as I'm about to dial her number, I get a more important message.
Anonymous: ‘Meet you in my studio in half an hour.’
Chapter 23.
‘You're just in time, you damned stranger!’ I mumble under my breath, noting out of the corner of my eye that passers-by turn in my direction. Whatever! If you don't like what you see, don't look at me!
I will call Alice later, but I left her a voice message. Who knows, It will probably work out. I'll sort it out after encounter with the stranger. Unlike the man, she can wait. He can punish me for disobedience. Fortunately, his studio is not far from here. I'll get there in half an hour.
I wonder what's waiting for me today – striptease, masturbation, or full-fledged sex? I have no idea. This time, the anticipation literally eats me up, and the suspense makes my heart pound. It’s no good. I have to suppress these feelings, purify my consciousness. Burn them. Anyway, it only makes things worse. I am just a toy for him.
He can capture my heart and soul and never let me out.
Everything goes in the same sequence as before. I pick up the key at the concierge desk, go up to the thirtieth floor, and enter the apartment. The room is dark, and windows are curtained as before, but this time I dare to open the curtains. That's better. The room looks homey now. There is even a small Christmas tree on the coffee table. I wonder whether he prepared it for our encounter or whether he lives here?
Anonymous: ‘There is a dress on the bed. Take your underwear off, put the dress on, blindfold yourself. Wait for me.’
I come up to the huge king size bed where I was writhing in front of the camera, cuming for the man to entertain him. The garment cover is here, on the red silk bedding. The black glossy dress is gorgeous. I bet it will fit me.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror makes me feel like a dirty whore. The outfit is too short, the heart-shaped neckline is too low, and it doesn't make me feel comfortable. But despite my desire to pull it off, I blindfold myself with a black silk ribbon and keep waiting for my stranger to come.<
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‘No, he is not mine! He is just a stranger!’ I remind myself.
After ten minutes of pure darkness I finally hear the door open. The soft footsteps sound louder, ringing in my head like an alarm bell. A slight excitement rises in my throat and clenches it tight, and my breath... Well, I still can breathe, but I need more oxygen now. I guess so.
One step. I inhale. Another step. I exhale.
I take in a blend of scents – mint and something else. A pure male scent… Attractive. Unique. I will always attribute it to this man.
‘You look gorgeous, Donatella,’ he says formally, taking my hand. An imperceptible kiss barely touches my soft skin. Lord, how courteous you are. Is this your new role or what? Are you showing your true face?
‘It's a pity I can't say the same,’ I say, and then I immediately cover my mouth with my hand that isn't wrapped in the warmth of the man's grip.
‘Sarcasm doesn't suit you.’
The warm palm that has been warming my hand moves to my throat with a certain threat. He doesn't squash it, but I feel a lack of air in the lungs. It's like he's trying to constrain the amount of oxygen in my body.
I freeze. I can't help holding my breath. I can't say a word, being at his mercy, on the verge of death. Even when his hand slowly rises to my face and gently strokes my cheek, I can't exhale the air lingered in my lungs.
‘Don't open your mouth unless you have to,’ he explains softly, tracing my lower lip with his thumb. ‘Now lie down, we're going to have fun.’
The man pushes me to the bed and helps me lie on my back, and then...
My right arm is trapped with his tight grip and something soft like my blindfold. Then the same thing happens to my left arm. Has he tied me up? I guess so, since my arms are fixed.
Heck! What if he leaves me like this, tied up and vulnerable? He can leave and forget about me! I'm completely vulnerable. Helpless. Yes, he didn't fix my legs, but that doesn't mean I will be able to fight back in case... In what case? The one indicated in the contract? After a while, I have to do the job for which I had been paid thirty thousand pounds, right? Damn it!
‘Don't kick, I am not going to hurt you.’
‘What will you do to me?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ the man says hoarsely, and walks away.
His footsteps are echoing in my head, making my body tremble excitedly, as if it warns me about something terrifying. Inevitable. In a few seconds, I hear his footsteps again together with paper bag rustling.
‘How about a snack? Would you like some turkey?’
Mentioning food makes my mouth water and my stomach growl. I hope it's not too noisy! My stomach aria makes the man chuckle, but he falls silent soon. Why didn't I grab a burger along the way? I left the chicken in the hospital, and I didn't eat a single piece. I shouldn’t. The aroma of a roasted turkey floats past my nose, I almost feel it on my tongue.
‘Open your mouth,’ the mocking tone fades away, replaced by seriousness.
I follow his order and in a few seconds take a bite of fragrant meat. Yum. The meat melts in my mouth. Oh my! It's been a long time since I've had a delicious turkey. It tastes like my Mom’s signature turkey with sauce. It's not quite the same, but the cook might use the same recipe.
‘Is it good?’
‘Yes,’ I say, barely chewing.
‘Take another bite.’
He brings up a small piece of turkey to my lips again, and I take it greedily, barely touching his rough finger pads. The third bite follows. Then another one... My stomach is not empty anymore, and huger seems to fade now to excitement. With each next piece of tender turkey, I try to make more contact with the stranger's fingers. I barely touch the salty skin smeared with spices, then welcome them into my mouth, imitating a blowjob. This peculiar game, as well as the man's reaction to my actions, turns me on.
‘Good girl. I think you'll like the dessert.’
I hear the rustle of a paper bag again, but not for long, and then I feel a hot veil of his breath on my face. His scent. His actions that mystify me. But the man doesn't do anything, just freezes next to me, spreading a peppermint breath over my lips.
‘You are very beautiful, Donatella,’ he says, tracing my lower lip with his thumb again, but when he removes his finger, I feel sticky, slightly warm substance on my lip. ‘You know, I will miss you after completion of the contract.’
The stranger does not allow me to say a word, to share my opinion. His lips cover my mouth almost instantly, his tongue licking the sticky stuff from my lip, and then it's entwined with mine. He smells like honey now. Sweet. Floral. He gently traces his fingers across my boobs, caressing me in a strange, unknown way. That is... Awesome!
Oh my! This was like a little orgasm, giddy and unexpected, minty-sweet as the taste of his lips. I am not afraid of this sensation as before, I am looking forward to enticing, obscure pleasure that he gives me. The dangerous, extreme pleasure… I’m striving for it like a butterfly flying to the light.
And these thoughts do not frighten me anymore...
‘You are so sweet,’ he says, pulling his lips away from mine.
The chill immediately overtakes my body, while the man rummages in the bag, probably searching for a very important thing. Heck! I need his lips right now! I need warmth of his body! His caress. Why has he left me? Come back! Please, I need you!
‘Are you ready to play, Donatella?’ he asks naughtily.
‘Yes.’
Rough palms touch my body. He strokes my curves, squeezes my skin. His hands slide up from my hips to the waist, from the waist to the ripe breasts that quickly rise and fall as I am breathing. Then he abruptly pulls the top of the dress down to my waist. Why? It would be easier to take the dress off. Probably. Or maybe...
Oh my!
Something ice-cold and fluid, like an ice cube, touches my bare breasts. He circles the engorged flesh, moves the coolness down to my navel, then removes it, and replaces the ice with a hot tongue. It slides along the same route, but gently, creating a contrast between chill and heat.
‘Ah...’
A sudden, strong sensation is running through my body. I feel like I've been electrocuted! It turns me on. I can't help it. My body is looking forward to his caress, to his tongue circling all my sensitive spots, erogenous zones, and his cuddles make my lower abdomen fill with a pleasant burden and... burn.
‘It doesn't take much of an effort to turn you on.’
Moans slip from my lips again. I can't help it. Emotions are out of control, excitement takes over my mind and feelings. Over everything that I appreciated so much and that concerned me daily.
‘Will you cum if I do this?’
He abruptly lifts the skirt from my butt, and an ice-cube burns the sensible flesh between my legs. The tight shackles squeeze my wrists, and my back curves all of a sudden. Oh my! God!
‘What are... You going... To do to me?’ I can barely talk
‘I submit you,’ he replies immediately.
I hear the sound of water pouring into a cup for a while, and then a hot, burning tongue touches me. At first it slides down to my clitoris, and then his lips embrace my burning flesh.
‘I can push you to the edge and keep you from cuming.’
‘No, you can't!’
‘Are you sure? Then don’t restrain yourself, Donatella.’
His hot tongue returns to my clitoris.
He quickly slaps my flesh. The ice cube is not applied anymore, otherwise it would instantly melt on my heated skin. Then he adds fingers to the tongue. They rush into me my flesh too quickly and move as if they are trying to make me have one orgasm after the other. A powerful, stunning orgasm… I’ve got it almost instantly.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ I cry out, as a powerful wave of pleasure makes my body twisting.
‘Good girl,’ he says, imprinting a light kiss on the inside of my thigh and leans back.
This time it doesn’t take him long to come back. He collapses on me and sh
ovels his dick into my wet flesh. He lifts my legs to his shoulders and starts moving too fast. Excitement surges through me again, as if I hadn’t an orgasm a few minutes ago.
His gentle fingers stroke the skin on the inside of my thigh, slide around the ass, climb up the waist, counting the ribs, and rest at the sensitive nipples. He squeezes them with his thumb and forefinger, caressing them, proceeding to move with frenzied intensity.
Moans escape my lips.
‘Good girl.’
The man abruptly slips out of me, rolls me over on my belly, crossing my tied hands, puts me on my knees, and penetrates into me again. That's my favorite position. I sense his thrusts much better this way, and his hands are free to do whatever he wants with my body. In this position, I feel vulnerable and defenseless.
‘Cum!’ he orders.
His fingers dig into my thighs, impaling me on his penis. Harder. Faster. Bolder. He rubs the sensitive spots inside me, and makes the pleasure to burst out from my chest in a deafening scream.
The stranger joins me a few minutes later, roaring in defense. He literally collapses on me. My body is heating, burning in flames. His fingers burn my skin. Maybe it's just my imagination. Most likely, instead of burns, I will see a bunch of new bruises in the mirror On my breasts, butt and thighs. Well, I hope there will be no love bites on my neck.
The stranger is lying on me, leaning against the bed, breathing into the my neck, and I feel goosebumps running all over my body. He’s stroking my thigh gently, soothingly. My heart beats furiously in the chest as his sharp breath passes over my skin. It is no longer so short, more or less quiet, unlike mine.
We've never been together that long, touching each other for more than five minutes. He usually left me right away after we had sex, enveloping me in coolness and incomprehension, forcing me to accept my fate. But not now.
He gets off me and untangles my wrists, freeing them from the tight shackles. Damn, it hurts. I bet my wrists will be bruised.
‘You may have a rest,’ he says. My body muscles get strained. ‘Turn off your blindfold ten minutes after...’
‘Don't go!’
