Awareness creeps in, the water rushing over my skin is icy cold. Being entirely numb allowing nothing to penetrate me. No unwanted staring, no embarrassment, no hurt, no humiliation, no loss of love from a parent, no shame, no distress, and especially, no mortification.
The bathroom is my significant place of sanctuary. The citrus envelops me. The only place in the whole house where I can escape and wash away everything. The smell, the touch, the intrusion, the guilt, the embarrassment, the physical pain and each time a sliver of me.
The hushed tones over the past few years of my mother and father fighting repeatedly got worse, louder, and above all, much more violent. The frequency of visits to the hospital for my mother and myself significantly increase over the past two years.
Tonight’s been exceptionally terrible, the parts I remember.
Daddy takes me to who he calls, ‘The Special One’. I have never gone with him anywhere like this before. I wear one of my new dresses he bought for me. I feel like a woman. He gives me a drink of something horrible… alcohol, I presume, stating it was time to start preparing to be an adult. Daddy tells mum he is taking me out for being such a good girl. I can’t understand why tears are rolling down my mother’s face. Little did I envisage my tears would be doing the same thing in just over three hours’ time.
We enter a large, concrete, dark-looking building. Our family has never been here for dinner before. He holds my arm, linked through his. I feel unsteady on my feet, almost to the point of swaying. Daddy ushers me through the nine-foot-tall black door after we hear the latch buzz open. No words are uttered as two mountainous men escort us to a huge, spacious room, bathed in warm, red wooden tones, highlighted by splashes of gold in the fixtures, minimal with furniture, with a large wood table at the opposite end and one black leather bench seat in front. It is grand, stunning, and something about it feels wrong.
Sitting on the chair is uncomfortable. I begin to think it is put here for this purpose. To keep me on edge.
A man, slightly younger than my father, enters the room. At first glance, his dark, short messed up hair and fit body draws me to him. He smiles from ear-to-ear, grinning like a cat who ate a canary.
“Good evening, Drake. It’s so lovely to be introduced to your beautiful daughter.” His voice is gentle, yet he oozes confidence and superiority. Reaching to hold my hand, he decisively grasps it and bends forward, assigning a slight kiss on the top of my hand.
“My name is Dimitri. What a joy to meet you, Isla. Your father has told me so much about you.”
Oh, my. What a gentleman. Although my gut is flipping somersaults, making me queasy.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, sir,” I say as I take my place back on the softly padded, yet torturous bench.
“I believe it’s your eighteenth birthday in a couple of days, Isla. Your father’s been making arrangements for this special occasion for a long period of time now. It’s going to be lovely seeing so much more of you.” Dimitri continues talking to my father, but all I hear is muffled voices as though my ears are full of cotton wool. I can’t understand what he means. What am I missing?
I am yanked up with more force this time by my father, while Dimitri circles me, eyeing me with precision, touching my skin, lifting my skirt all the while my father stands there watching and smiling. Not wanting to embarrass my daddy or myself, this must be what women do. I do what I am told. Hands wander over my legs. Dimitri appears angry when he sees the bruising on my lower back and limbs.
“No more marks, Drake! I need her skin flawless and untouched for my…” My head drifts to a spin.
A blood-curdling scream wakes me from my bed. Mum is screaming and there are plates being broken. They sound like they’re being crashed upon my skull. Running with my party frock flowing behind me, I rush to find my mother drenched in blood and curled in a ball on the floor. My father pacing psychotically near her. I know what needs to be done. The same thing I always do.
In a soothingly light, placate voice, I ask Daddy to come with me into the lounge room, where he drops to the cushions in sheer exhaustion. His body has assaulted the wife he apparently loves and worships. He is still in a trance-like a coma.
“Daddy, wait here. I will go and get you a drink.” Feverishly, I walk back to the kitchen where Mum still is, unable to move, crouched on the floor. She knows I will be back to attend to her later once my father had cooled down.
Grabbing a small glass from the cupboard and the ouzo from the shelf, I pour double the amount I normally would to help daddy relax. Looking up high, I find what I am looking for, some medication of mother’s that helps her sleep. Crushing all that’s left of these pills into his drink, to make sure he won’t wake up for multiple hours, I swirl the mixture until it’s all dissolved. Watching mother do this on occasions when Dad’s at work. She said it’s a good way to drift asleep in the day.
Eyes wide, he is staring at a spot on the wall. Offering the drink to him, he takes the cup and swallows the contents in two gulps, letting the glass drop to the floor with a crash when he is done. Thank God my brother didn’t witness tonight’s events. He’s endured Daddy’s hand on him too many times in his short life. Commonly, I would step in to protect him. Usually too far in a haze when he strikes out—he simply didn’t worry about who was in the way. It’s been lucky Benjamin’s made good friends now he’s older, so he visits them most weekends and nights, only returning home if needed.
Mum is trembling and clearly in shock. I really should be taking her to the hospital, but it’s been such a strange night. I place my arm around her waist, pulling her up, coaxing her to her bedroom suite. A faint ring tone and a bang of a door infiltrates the room. Blood from my mother’s lip is clotting as I find a cloth and run it under cold water. I wipe what I can away from her chin and neck and undress her, only to clothe her in her fluffy dress pajamas before putting her into her bed. No words were spoken the entire time. Kissing her head, I start walking to the bathroom, ready to forget this night ever existed.
And my head is thumping. Louder and louder.
Tapping on the en suite door, which is closed again, prevents me from getting to Isla, so I increase the intensity of the knocking.
Lydia got one hell of a shock when Isla answered my cell. Never in our working relationship has Lydia heard a woman’s voice on my phone. After speaking to Lydia, she couldn’t stop laughing about the mistake, expressing her desire to know the woman I have entrusted my phone to. I want Isla in every part of my life. It’s only a matter of time.
“Sweetness, I’m coming in.” Rendering her no possibility to say no, I carefully open the bathroom door to find her sitting on the cool tiles, with her knees drawn to her naked chest, arms enclosing them. Her glistening blurry eyes reveals she’s been crying. She offers me a weak smile before dropping her head to her knees. Dropping next to her on the black marble floor, mirroring her image, I take her hand and rub my thumb across her delicate skin.
“It’s all right, Isla. Lydia, my secretary, was on the phone letting me know of some changed plans for today. She was laughing when I explained to her what had happened. She’s never been greeted by a female before.”
Her beautiful face looks up cautiously. She looks serious.
“Please forgive me, Alex. I can’t believe I did that. Why didn’t I check it was my phone? I was so engrossed in the blissful moment. I was distracted and annoyed that someone would be calling me so early. My brain wasn’t working.”
“It’s all okay, Isla, believe me. It’s fine.”
“But say it was a client of yours, or your family or friends?” Her voice trails off. Placing my left hand on her chin, moving it so her eyes converge with mine, I say, “I would have explained to them the truth. My girlfriend accidentally answered my phone believing it was hers because she was upset someone was interrupting our burning hot, passionate morning sex. Simple.”
“You would not.” She states, pouting, but with excitement in her eyes.
“Fuck yeah, I would. I’m not going to be hiding our relationship, Isla. I’m committed to you in every way. Sex with you is going to be my favorite pastime.” His voice is calm and steady. “Christ, it is my favorite past time! If I know my family and friends, they have been waiting a very long time to see me like this.”
“Things are moving so fast, Alex. My mind is finding it hard to keep up. Sitting here alone brought back more bad memories. Dealing with them is a priority.”
“Everything will be all right. I will help you with whatever you need me to do.” Leaning in, pecking her on the cheek, I place my left hand around hers more forcefully and coerce her into standing. Looking at our hands, she notices the wound on mine, asking how did I do it.
“It’s nothing. I dropped a glass last night and cut myself, nothing major, just a scratch.” Doing my best to glance over the subject, I distract her with my next question.
“So, Lydia called this morning because there are some problems arising with the resort in Las Vegas, and I’m required to fly out this morning to sort them out. Regrettably, they can’t be handled by phone.”
“Oh,” Isla whispers.
“But… You can come with me for the weekend. Business will be first on the agenda when we arrive, but we can spend the rest of the time investigating the lights and sounds of Las Vegas, watch a few shows, relax, and have some insanely hot sex, without any interruptions from my friendly secretary.”
There is wonder and a slight trace of excitement in Isla’s eyes as I mention wanting her to come with me.
“I couldn’t, Alex. My work commitments come first and I am required to finish up some orders for an event at the end of next week, plus I’m in the middle of devising a plan to get my life in order so we can move forward.”
“You have to come with me. Everything’s taken care of. Even as we speak Lydia is organizing the jet and letting Jules know you will be away with me for a few days in Las Vegas. Of course, you can let Jules know as well when we arrive, but this is what we need. Time to spend together. Exploring each other, sorting out if there is anything I can help you with and having a fun time doing it. We can stop to pick up some clothes and your passport. The rest has been dealt with.” Noticing her trying to say something, she refrains, then tries again making me laugh silently. My Sweetness is lost for words.
Turning my back on her to go to my wardrobe, I find my suitcase and start packing necessary items and clothes, finding a suit to put on for today’s shenanigans.
“If I were to come, can I pick the show to go and see?” Wrapping her fine hands around my exposed stomach, her sensual naked skin against mine, makes me sigh in content.
“Of course, all of the above, except first you’re going to help clothe me in my suit. Half an hour is all we have. Do you think we can manage that?” Spinning around so I am facing her, I find her lips and we mold together, wishing there were hours before the flight.
“We have to go, my love, but I will make it up to you, more than once if you’re a very lucky girl.” Swatting her behind before she moves at lightning pace into the robe, she laughs as she rifles through my hangers, looking for the perfect suit.
“Hell, there’s so many, but I like this one.”
Stopping at my dark blue Ermenegildo Zenga suit, I acknowledge the fine choice she made, one of the most expensive in my wardrobe. She takes a light blue shirt from its hanger and crosses over to me asking me to hold out my arms, of which I comply.
Well fuck, this is a new experience and it would appear by my growing dick, an experience I am loving.
“Don’t move anywhere.” Isla leaves me standing in the middle of the wardrobe, shirt unbuttoned, with my now erect length standing to attention, while she goes to my drawers to retrieve my underwear for me.
“Do you have a preference for your underwear?” she calls out in a hurried tone.
“Choose whichever you like. It’s all about your choices today, Sweetness.”
Not a minute passes before she’s pulls me toward her. I offer to help, but she brushes my hands aside.
“I’ve got this. You may want to assist me by sitting on the antique William IV library chair over there, so I can put these on fast.”
Wanting to comply, I sit down, making it easier for her to put the clothing on my legs and feet. While she is down there fiddling with something, she kisses my legs, forcing them apart abruptly so her body wedges in between them. Her mouth is wrapped around my dick within a second, moving up and down my shaft, taking in as much as she can.
“Isla, you don’t have…” but she sucks harder and runs her nails along my balls ensuring the last of my words aren’t released. I don’t want her to stop—that would be insane. Her black locks move up and down with her head. Her eyes are trained on my dick with intensity. Her lips are soothing and moist, her tongue flicking around my head in a perfect rhythm. Her strokes are rapid and precise, making it impossible for me to stay still. My hips involuntarily flex, assisting her. Her naked breasts and tight nipples rub next to my legs driving me closer and closer to discharge.
“I’m close, Sweetness. Suck me dry. It’s all for you.”
The pressure increases as does her murmurs and glorious sounds.
With all restraint gone, I explode with such immense force, straining and jerking, holding the chair’s arms so Isla, who is still licking and retrieving every last drop of my cum, isn’t hurt. Her gaze finds me totally obliterated. She has undone me in all ways possible, in the smallest amount of time. It’s fucking unbelievable and I never want it to end.
I can taste myself as she kisses my lips before going to the bathroom and dressing herself in the clothes she had on last night. I haven’t moved when she returns five minutes later, dazed and confused but in a good way.
“I thought you were going to suit me up, but I’m glad you took a detour. Thank you.” Straightening myself, standing, I start to button up my work shirt, as Isla looks through multiple ties, touching and assessing each one, sometimes looking back to me, continuing on her merry way, smiling happily to herself.
“I think this one would look smart with your navy suit.” Handing me a dark periwinkle colored tie, I tend to agree with her. Tying it on before placing my pants, socks, and shoes on, I then pack the remainder of my suitcase. Isla’s looking out the window at the serenity of the ocean, calming her more, putting her demons to bay.
My phone vibrates. Thomas is downstairs.
“It’s time to leave, Isla.”