I stand in the driveway waiting for you to open the garage. The sunshine is warm against my skin, I hear birds chirping sweet Sunday melodies, and as a warm breeze passes by, it reminds me that Spring has arrived.
It felt good to stand in the light, even if it was just for a minute.
I hear the humming of the garage open.
I walk into the garage through the doorway where you stood, greeting you as I passed through, not making eye contact. I set my purse down on the counter. You sit down on the chair, and direct me to sit down on the couch. I sit down.
I feel a sense of stillness.
We discuss briefly about life, making small talk. Then came the topic of the dreaded budget, and you ask what I’ve spent my money on this past month. I nervously laugh, and began to get anxious.
“I don’t want to review the transactions today.” I say, as I look away from him.
He replies “Why not? What did you spend your money on? Cloths? Food?”
“I don’t know.. I’m just not good with money, and I want today to be a good day, and I just don’t want to do this today…”
He sighs, “Okay, fine. We won’t do it today, but we will be doing it.”
“I thought we just had to make a budget for May, why do we have to go through what I spent in April?”
“Well, that is how we are going to figure out how much to allocate to your budget, plus I am curious now what you spent because you are so nervous about showing me.” You sigh heavily, “But, we don’t have to talk about this today. Let’s go upstairs.”
I follow behind you as you lead the way up the stairs, and into your room,
You direct me to close the door behind me.
“Stand back so that I can look at what you have on”
Vintage style navy blue dress, with red & white anchors.
“It’s my anchor dress, I have a thing for anchors.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhmm” I lift up my hair to reveal the back of my neck. “Didn’t you ever notice this tattoo on the back of my neck? It is an anchor”
“No, I never noticed it. Why do you like anchors?”
“It is a symbol of hope, don’t ya know?”
“No, I never knew that.”
He pulls me in close to him, “Take this off”, as he gently tugs at my cardigan.
I remove my cardigan.
He traces his hand around my collar, grazing his hand over the straps of lingerie that were now peeking out from underneath my dress that were previously hidden by my cardigan.
“What do we have under here?”
I smile, “Oh I don’t know” I say innocently.
“Take your dress off, let me see” as he sits down on the edge of the bed.
I take a step back, and remove my dress, revealing a black netted teddy with cut outs in all the right places.
“Damn your tits look good. Come here.”
I stand in front of him as he reaches up to squeeze my breasts, and his hands fall back down to his side. He looks me over.
“Your Dad still plans on making you lose weight, yes?”
I look down at the floor, “Yes”.
“What do you weigh now?”
I mumble a number under my breathe.
“Are you sure?” he asks, questioning my honesty.
“Yes, or at least that was what I was a couple days ago when I weighed myself…”
“Let’s check. There is a scale in the bathroom.”
I step on the sale, it felt like the longest 10 seconds of my life.
The number flashes across the screen and reads the exact weight that I had told him, to the decimal point.
I sigh a sign of relief; thank god it was the same number that I had him told him.
“Very good” he says. “How much weight does your father want you to lose?” he asks eagerly.
“I don’t know” I replied distantly, as we walk back into his room.
I look over at the bed, and flashback to a few weekends ago where I stood over his bed, folding his laundry, sharing with him some of the darkest pieces of my past with him, including a gruesome, five year long battle with an eating disorder.
“Get down on your knees”
I snap back to the present, pushing away all the feelings of confusion and embarrassment of what just happened.
I begin sucking his dick, like that good girl that I am.
“You’re such a good girl, you dirty little slut” you moan.
“Get on the bed.” He lays down on the bed, and puts on a condom.
I climb on top, and begin riding him.
After a few minutes I get off, ready to switch.
I notice there was blood on the condom.
Why, Why, Why. If I didn’t want to die of embarrassment before, I do now.
I take a deep breath, “I am so sorry… I think I bled on you.”
I literally just want to die of embarrassment.
We get out of bed, and clean our selves up.
“Now what are we going to do to punish you for bleeding on me”
I look down at the floor.
You take out your phone, and tell me that we are going to make a video.
“When I ask you where you want me to cum, I want you to say “Cum on my face, Sir,””
“Okay, I will.”
He begins recording.
I get down on my knees, and begin sucking his dick, within a few minutes he pulls out of my mouth.
“Where do you want me to cum”
“Cum on my face, Sir.”
He cums all over my face, and smears it around with his dick.
“You’re such a good girl.”
The video ends.
“Now, scoop my cum off your face and swallow it.” I do so.
“Good girl”. Now clean yourself up.
I go into the bathroom, and clean my face off.
I come out of the bathroom, and you tell me to make the bed. I make the bed, carefully and intricately tucking in the corners, making sure it is just right.
You climb into bed, and open your arms, gesturing for me to come cuddle with you.
My favorite part.
I climb into bed, and nozzle up to him. I place my head on his chest, and my hands on his belly.
“Let’s watch the video we just made.” He says.
We watch the video together, admiring my good work.
He turns on the TV, and searches for a show.
I’m finally at ease.
“Do you have cuts on your legs?” He asks out of no where.
Caught off guard from the question, looking down at my legs to see if I had pricked myself shaving. I respond, “No? Why? do you see a cut?”
“You don’t have scares on your legs from cutting yourself?”
“No… I do have some scars on my stomach from where I use to burn myself years ago.. Why did you think I had cut myself on my legs?”
“I just assumed because you’re pretty basic...Why did you do it?”
I think to myself,
Because I lived in darkness for too long. The agony of my pain became my comfort, so much so that I no longer could feel the pain. In fact, I felt nothing at all.
So, why did I do it? To see if I was still here. To see if I could feel something, anything at all, to let me know I was still alive.
I reply, “I guess because I’m basic.”
We lay there, but my mind is somewhere else. You ask “What’s on your mind?”, I reply back “Nothing.”
“You really like playing the dumb bimbo role don’t you?”
Caught off guard again, “yeah..”
I thought to myself, I haven’t been playing any role. This is me.
“You’re going to quit smoking, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good, you’ll be a whole new person.”
I think at that very moment, I finally realized what I wanted, what I had been searching for.
I was looking for someone to go into the darkest depths of my soul with me, and to feel loved and accepted for who I am.
I’ve never felt that before.
I don’t think this is that.
