Chapter 28
Itake a long hot shower and disappear into my mind, replaying everything that just happened between Jacob and I.
I must have been so immersed in my head because when I gingerly move my sore backside around the light and airy room, I see that someone has left me a tray of food on the table and a pile of clean sheets and a clean tee.
Jacob is my guess, but it could also have been sweet Angus.
He would have watched everything that has happened today.
I gladly pull on the t-shirt and begin to nibble on the cute picnic I’ve been left—complete with mini quiche and a bar of chocolate. Once I’ve eaten, I change the sheets on my bed and am happy I won’t have to sit in the pool of come that has dried up on top of the duvet.
I fluff the pillows and lean against them with my legs stretched out in front of me and just breathe.
I’ve been here for three days and these men have really taken me to places that I never dreamed I’d go.
Each so different with kinks so intense.
My heart twinges as I think of James and compare his kinks.
I miss him in this quiet moment. I wish I could reach out, I wish he could hold me and kiss my head like he so often does.
I hope he’s coping ok not knowing how I’m doing and if I’m ok.
I wish I could reassure him, see the kids and watch them sleep at night.
I just need to hang in there for two more days, that’s it.
And to be honest it’s not so much of a hardship.
Yes I guess a few things have been on the extreme end of the scale, but none have truly harmed me physically or mentally.
I enjoy Angus playing with me, I can’t say I enjoyed the nettles, but I didn’t mind the knife play.
Was I reckless coming here? Quite possibly yes.
In hindsight maybe I am opening myself up to men that could harm me in more ways than one.
But they’re not, I don’t feel harmed or in harm’s way with these men, this strange family.
Given the chance to make the decision all over again, would I do it?
I can’t ever imagine not signing up and missing out on the one million dollar payday.
I haven’t had to tap out and use my safe word.
I can’t imagine what else the men have planned for me, can it be any more extreme than what I’ve experienced so far. Surely not?
I realise it’s Wednesday so I know the kids will be heading to guitar lessons and soccer practise.
I lay on the bed and let the mum guilt consume me.
My heart feels too heavy to be away from the kids but I know they’re totally fine.
Being away from them for the second time this year hurts my heart.
I hope they don’t remember this part of their childhood but then again this is all for them, for us, for our lives and their futures.
And a tiny bit for me if I’m being completely honest. If I’m berating myself over the kids, I can’t leave out berating myself over my own twisted curiosity to see what more I can handle, how far I can go as a Clarendon Playmate.
My desire to know the deepest depths of depravity is like an addiction I can’t get enough of.
I want to find them and feel them, be immersed in them, own them.
Having no idea of time, I feel relaxed by the time the attic door opens and a mop of red greets me before I see a broad, shy smile. It’s Angus’ playtime once again it seems.
This afternoon he patiently dresses me in red latex, something I’ve never worn before. It’s tight and warm and constricting so it’s a good thing I don’t have to move unless arranged by Angus. He makes love to me missionary, and the time must fly as I play my part of unresponsive doll so well now.
Once Angus is satisfied and has peeled the sticky latex from my body, he lets me shower as myself and brings up a delicious smelling meal of shepherd’s pie and steamed vegetables.
I’m grateful for the tasty meal and then curl up into Angus on the bed.
He strokes my hair and it’s the most soothing touch I need right now.
Angus brings me comfort in a situation that should feel uncomfortable.
I snuggle into him and assume he’ll just lay quietly until I drop off.
“We fight, my half brother and me. We train in mixed martial arts six days a week and fight in a championship.”
I sit bolt upright and gap at him. “You fight? Angus, there is not a bar of meanness in you to fight?” I query, gobsmacked at his revelation. Then follow it up on second thoughts, “Well, I can imagine Jacob being a fighter, but not you. Why?”
Chuckling, he looks back at me amused. “You think because I have a few extracurricular interests I can’t fight?” he says good naturedly, smiling at my outburst.
“Well no, yes I mean. You’re so sweet and kind and gentle. Sure you have a few kinks but where is the anger I see in Jacob?”
“You don’t need anger to fight, you need skill and competitiveness. I like to win, Jacob likes to win. We just have very different fighting styles and very different personalities.”
“You enjoy it?”
“We both do. Our Dad used to fight also. It’s in our blood.”
“Don’t you get hurt?” I ask, I have heard of mixed martial arts fighting and from memory it can be pretty brutal.
“We can, but we’re good at it. And no, before you ask, it’s not how I lost my eye.”
“Doesn’t that give you a disadvantage?”
“Not really, my good eye is excellent and I’m light on my toes. I’m fine really.” He sounds endeared by the alarm on my face.
“Well you are both pretty toned, I’m surprised you don’t have women hanging from your arms the pair of you.”
“You mean my red-haired one-eyed good looks and Jacob’s fiery temper and insistent hatred for women because his mum left when he was young and women his age don’t seem to like it when he pulls out a knife on them, his favourite toy.”
“Hey, surely there are women out there who like what you do, what you both enjoy. You are gorgeous and yes you have unusual kinks, but surely you can find a match—a woman whose fantasy is to be used as a free use doll?”
“I hope she’s out there, really, I do. But right now, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. The best thing to happen to us. I’ve never seen Jacob hand over his knife the way he did with you today.”
“Really?” But even as I ask him, I know it’s true, I could tell.
“Yeah, that guy takes that knife everywhere with him. Made it with my dad as a kid and it’s been a part of him ever since. I’m not sure why he likes to draw blood with it, but I don’t know why I like to play with women as dolls.”
“Do you have a mother?” I ask, then wonder if that’s too forward.
“I do, but I don’t see her very often. She has another family; I was the product of an affair between her and my father. I’m more like my father and his family then her side so I moved in with him once I was old enough to choose. It’s just the three of us and fighting is our life.”
“So you’re close, the three of you?” I ask, glad to know Angus is with people who love him for him. Accept him. But I guess they’re all quirky in their own right, so Angus fits in perfectly.
“We are. Jacob is ten years older than me. I think deep down he just needs to find that special person. The one who can see what we see, who can see past the bravado he wears as armour, someone who he can let in.”
“I had a glimpse today,” I mutter, remembering the way he allowed me to take control and play with his knife on his body. “Surely if he can do it with me, he can do it with other women, at least other playmates.”
“You’re special though, Roxy. The whole time we’ve been at the Clarendon we haven’t met a single playmate as open and accepting as you.
Most would have used their safe words waking up tied down, let alone everything else you’ve allowed for us to do with your body.
Women, for very obvious reasons, don’t feel very safe around Jacob and his knife for both his personality and of course his knife.
What they don’t know is, Jacob is a brilliant skilled knifeman, he has multiple knives.
Ones sharp enough for shredding clothes and others semi blunt for playing on your skin like his flip knife, he knows the risk. He’d never hurt anyone on purpose.”
“He can with his words,” I reply, still bitter from how deeply his hateful words had cut.
“Yeah, they’re his shield, his armour. I don’t know why.
He’s resentful that no women have taken the time to get to know the true him.
Sure they like his good looks but in the end, they don’t want to know him when he pulls out his knife and asks to play with their bodies in the way he has with you. ”
“It’s kind of hard when he can be quite cruel and scary at the same time. He sure knows how to push someone away almost from the start.”
“It’s like some deranged test.”
“You got the deranged part right. I think he needs to speak to someone about it.”
“Ha,” Angus actually laughs at my suggestion. “Over his dead body.”
“Men,” I huff.
“You have been good for him, maybe you’re all the therapy he needs.”
“Shit, I think he needs more than me. I don’t know what good I can do, I’m only here a few more days.”
“Maybe he has a whole bunch of stuff he needs to get out of his system, much like me and father. And that could help him too.”
“Yeah maybe,” I reply but I don’t sound or feel convinced. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help though Angus, especially if I have to kiss the frog from hell to find the prince of submission again.”
I feel his chest rumble as he laughs at that analogy.
Feeling the conversation trail off, I don’t want to push or make Angus tell me things he shouldn’t.
I want to talk about my life and my family but I also don’t think it’s the time or the place, so we fall quiet as the sky turns dark and I feel his steady breathing on my head for once.
Angus has not nodded off before and the thoughts of sleeping curled up with this gentle young man has me relaxing into him as I let sleep claim me too after a day of three men and their desires.