by Dale, Lindy
He liked to leave his imprint on me, the mark of his possession. In fact, he was an exciting lover. The physicality was just his way. Dean was never rough. He was tender and missionary and well, boring. I never experienced the satisfaction with him that I did with Mark. I had to admit I enjoyed playing the rough games too, biting him where people would see and comment only made the game more dangerous. I enjoyed the fact that there were no ties, no commitment and the element of possible discovery only added to the excitement.
But most of all, I enjoyed the fact that he made me forget about Ben.
***
After lunch I stood at the front of Mark’s flat. I could hear ‘The Doors’ blaring through the closed door. They’d become something of a theme for us, a secret that we shared. Mark loved to fuck me while Jim Morrison sang. My key, the key he had given me so that I could come and go as I pleased, was poised to open the door. I hesitated, I really should go home; there was a mountain of work waiting including two pressing essays and a piece of poetry for Prof. Phillips. He, of all the lecturers, would not take kindly to a late submission and I’d never handed work in late before. I felt guilty to even consider doing it but for some reason being with Mark at that point in time was all I wanted. My dreams were becoming blurry, my goals lost in a wave of ecstasy that only Mark could provide.
Turning the key in the lock and letting myself in, I called his name.
“I’m in here.”
Of course, the bedroom. Where else would he be? I walked down the hall, stopping in the doorway. He was sitting in the same place I had left him only hours before, gloriously naked and strumming his guitar. He looked up and smiled, a carnal smile of desire.
“Get naked, Blondie. I have a surprise for you.”
I grinned back and began to undress. There was something about him that made me want to give up my independence, to dance to his tune. He was Svengali, moulding me to his will.
“Is there ever a surprise that involves having my clothes on?” Since the affair had begun, I had spent more time naked than clothed. I’d come to believe we’d be far more at home in a Nudist colony than where we were right now.
“No. You look good without your clothes. They never do you justice.”
I climbed onto the bed, lying on my stomach, my bottom in full view of his swarthy glare. I rested my chin on my hands and looked at him. “Okay. What’s the surprise?”
Mark crawled across to the bedside table, slapping my backside as he went. He picked up a small package and rolling over in front of me he began to undo the seal. “Well, there’s actually two. The first is that while you were out I was busy, and yes, before you ask, I have been dressed and out of the flat. I scored us some ‘speed’. I want you to have a taste with me. There’s nothing like sex on speed. It makes you lose all your inhibitions.”
“I didn’t know you had any.”
“I was talking about you, Blondie. It wouldn’t hurt you to loosen up a bit, try something new. You work too hard at Uni.”
“I don’t know. Isn’t it addictive?”
Mark smiled, his lustful grin and black eyes holding me hostage. “It’ll be alright. I won’t let any harm come to you. Trust me.”
The voice of reason flashed inside my head. Is that the same way he said ‘trust me’ when he got into bed with me the first time? There was nothing about him I could trust with absolute certainty. As long as I remembered that, everything would be okay. I couldn’t let him bend me all the time.
He came closer, revealing a silver foil resting in his palm. His musty scent was heady. I was already drugged. “It’s only half, enough to make you loose. It can’t hurt.”
I stared, transfixed, at his palm. The morally conscious side of me was screaming that I didn’t need drugs to have a good time. The curious girl was telling me to go ahead and try. Mark had said he’d take care of me and he was used to this sort of thing.
“How do I do it?”
“Like this.”
He undid the foil and tipped some of the yellowish powder onto the back of his hand. Covering his left nostril with his finger he put the powder to his right and inhaled. I watched him for any outward sign of change but there was none. He wiped the excess powder from his nose and took my hand in his.
“Now it’s your turn. You won’t feel it instantly, but the rush is intense. Your mouth’ll go a bit dry at first and you’ll want to drink heaps, but don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”
He could see that I was anxious and held my hand gently, kissing my palm as he looked into my eyes. Turning my hand over, he made a small mound on the back near my knuckle and held it to my nostril. My hand was trembling and he held it while I snorted.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
Taking my hand, he placed it on his erection. “I’d have thought that would be obvious.”
***
The night had peaked when finally, we lay spent. The light from the moon shone through the bedroom window. Mark’s eyes were covered by the tint of the shadows as he lay with his arm around my shoulder, resting but not asleep. He had been right, I reflected, the sex had been incredible. My senses had been heightened to a level where his every touch was extraordinary and I had been insatiable for it. I had found pleasure in the simplest of acts – his licking of my toes, sucking my fingers, biting me from my ankles to my shoulder blades.
The speed had made me feel attractive and beautiful, uninhibited and up for almost anything he proposed. I never wanted to get out of that bed, to eat or to live again, unless Mark was at my side. That was the problem.
Touching each of his eyelids with my lips, I roused him from his rest. His eyes opened lazily and a satisfied smile stretched across his chiseled face. He only had to look at me to know I wanted more.
“Told you, didn’t I?”
“You did and you were right. But you’ll be sorry; I’ll never have enough now. Sex was great before but that was awesome.”
“You’re a dirty bitch.”
“And you’re Jim Morrison, the lizard king.” He was. He was the Lizard King – fluid, sensual, relentlessly using that tongue of his to exact the most pleasure. So debauched. The bottom had fallen out of the ride and I didn’t care. I was sliding into oblivion.
“What’s the rest of my surprise? You said there were two parts.”
“I wrote you a song.”
“Do I want to hear it or is it one of those songs men sing in the pub after footy?”
Mark looked serious. “No, it’s a love song. I haven’t written anything in over a year. You’re my muse.”
“Is that the speed talking or you?”
“Me.”
Mark picked up his guitar from beside the bed and cleared his throat. The tune was slow and melodic, the lyrics impassioned and poetic, filled with longing.
I sat still, truly overwhelmed that I could be the catalyst for a thing of such beauty. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
I took the guitar from him and put it down on the floor. I crawled across the bed and laid my head on his naked thigh. It was warm and sinuous.
“I think you have heaps of talent, I admire that you can create something so awesome. I wish I could do that.” I smiled up at him with adoring eyes and for the first time in as long as I could remember felt something like love bursting from my heart.
Chapter 19
PLEASURE & PAIN
It’s a fine line between pleasure and pain
You’ve done it once you can do it again
The Divinyls
With Mark, I lived the fine line between pleasure and pain. Not wanting him but needing. Living with the guilt but loving it at the same time. Wishing that sex were normal and boring again, instead of the drug induced gymnastics routine it had become and yet craving it more and more. I often lay in bed, usually recovering from some massive hangover, listening to the Divinyls and imagining that song had been written for me. Cleverly, I thought, I’d learnt how to divide my time into little pie
ces, giving some to Dean, a bit to school, a bit to the boys and a lot to Mark. I had given away everything I had, without even realising. It was my fault. I’d got on for the ride. Now, it was spinning out of control and I was powerless to stop it until it reached the end.
As I stood in the pub one night, I wondered why everyone was staring. It couldn’t be the constant fidgeting of my fingers over the buttons of my blouse and it wasn’t because my pupils were dilated or that my normally pale skin had taken on the pallor of a dirty ashtray. Yes, my tights didn’t match the rest of my outfit and there was a huge hole in them that began at my thigh and was working it’s way to my foot. I knew I looked like a heap of crap but what did it matter? I was the Queen of the Universe. So why?
I was drinking furiously and had been blithering on like an idiot about bullshit that nobody was the least bit interested in. Still, it was interesting to me because I was Bella, the centre of the cosmos, the most interesting girl in the world. At least that was what the speed told me every time I dropped another line. Anxious, I frowned and sucked on my cigarette while I watched the boys. Something was up. There was a secret and they weren’t sharing. It’d better not have been about me.
Dean put his hand on my shoulder and I jumped. “Are you alright, Annabelle?”
No, I’m stoned, you fuckwit! I thought.
“Of course I’m alright,” I snapped, heaving my shoulders up in an attempt to look straight, “And will you stop staring, you’re giving me the creeps.”
“I’m not staring, I’m concerned. Have you taken something?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you know I don’t do drugs. I’m perfectly alright. Now, I’m going to dance….Coming?”
His concern was justified, I supposed. I had been behaving in a most peculiar way – missing dates, making ridiculous excuses and so nervy. I used to be so easy going but the whole time division thing was difficult. I couldn’t remember who I was or where I was meant to be. I couldn’t control it, I snapped without warning and the more wired I got, the more paranoid I became. I’d given up eating and sleeping, in favour of all night sessions with Mark, which would disappear into days of unconsciousness that I had no recollection of, apart from when I woke up a few days later to find myself sleeping in squalor. The horrid thing was, I didn’t care. Everyone hated me and I didn’t care. All I cared about was sex and drugs and never having to think about losing Ben ever again.
And to make matters worse, everyone was talking behind my back; I knew they were, I had heard them as I came back from the toilet earlier on.
“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Dean had asked Justin. I had cocked my head, straining to hear from my position behind a tall guy next to them.
“She’s pushing herself hard this year, she wants to do well – maybe she’s tired?”
Yes, I was tired! Being Queen of the Universe was a very tiring occupation, especially when your subjects were staging a rebellion.
Coops wasn’t fooled. “She’s not tired, she’s strung out.”
“But where would she get drugs from? Why would she even do it?”
Justin shrugged, “She’s unhappy, she’s been unhappy ever since I’ve known her really. The frivolity is an act. Deep down she hurts.”
Well, he had that right. But since I’d met Mark things had been better, the pain was less.
“We need to do something.”
Behind the tall guy, I cringed. My friends were going to exorcise me like Linda Blair and I was going to spew green stuff all over them. Why couldn’t they leave me alone?
“I think she’s seeing someone,” Dean said.
I froze. He knew. Shit.
“She’s become quite the liar of late.”
The alarm bells rang in my ears. Drug addicts are great liars.
Coops looked over to the dance floor. “It’s Mark.”
Oh God.
They knew. They all knew and they were out to get me. So what does a girl do when all her boys have got it in for her? I went straight back to the bar, got drunker, did a line or two and forgot about them all. Then I went in search of Mark.
***
My breath was short and rapid against his cheek as he pushed me into the icy stone of the wall.
“I couldn’t wait for another minute. I had to have you inside me,” I whispered. I was Queen of the Universe, after all. I could do as I pleased.
“What about the others?”
“They know.” I rubbed myself against him, desperate. “Give it to me, now. I need you now.”
He pulled my top across my shoulder and buried his head in my neck, trapping me against the sandstone. He bit into me, leaving an ugly red mark. My skeletal body shuddered uncontrollably against his. “Fuck, Bella. How much’ve you had?”
“I was bored, and anyway, there’s heaps left for you, so shut up and fuck me.”
Closing my eyes, I could hear a buzz inside my head and I blocked it out, concentrating on the sensation of my elbows grating against the rough bricks of the wall as Mark moved his mouth to my body. His hands roamed aggressively across my breasts and down towards my skirt which had assumed a life of it’s own and had taken up residence somewhere around my hips. His tongue licked my nipples.
“Yes, yes,” I panted, as he moved my knickers aside and thrust his fingers into me.
“You’re a dirty little girl,” he said.
“Hurry.”
Lifting me against the wall, he pushed himself between my legs. My weight meant nothing to him now, I was so light he could’ve tossed me into the air and spun me like a pancake. I was so stoned he could’ve asked me to do anything and I’d have agreed. Drunk, I was just a flirt. Stoned, I was sluttish and I didn’t give a shit.
Mark began to thrust, driving himself into me, devouring me with the bloody need of a vampire. “You want it like this?”
“Just do it, take me to heaven.”
Suddenly, a voice cried out from further down the lane. Immobile, I felt the passion drain from my body. “What the hell is going on?”
Dean came walking into the alley towards us, followed closely by Coops and the others. I could feel Mark adjusting his clothes, straightening himself.
“I’ll handle it,” he whispered, leaning against me protectively, shielding my half-naked body from view.
“I thought it was pretty obvious. I was fucking your girlfriend.”
Dean came closer. His face was livid and purplish. His fists, tight with rage. “Annabelle?”
I hid my face in Mark’s shoulder. I couldn’t face him.
“Bella?” Coops asked.
“I’m fine.”
“He’s not hurting you?”
You mean is he raping me? I suppose it could’ve looked that way to the untrained eye.
“No.”
“How long’s this been going on?” Dean looked broken. That was all I needed. Now I felt like a bitch. I wanted to rush to him, to tell him it wasn’t meant to end like this but I couldn’t. Instead I stood, screened behind Mark’s chest as he continued to press against me, holding me back.
“That’s irrelevant,” Mark sneered.
“Why,Bella?”
“Bella was feeling the need for a little adventure. Apparently, you’re too boring for her, mate.”
“Is that true?”
“I’m sorry, Dean. I couldn’t help it. I tried so hard.” It sounded feeble, pathetic, but I didn’t know what else to say.
Dean’s face was only centimetres from Mark’s. His eyes sparked angrily, his voice was shaking. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her to make her like this, but if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
***
The next day, Justin appeared at my door. I winced at the repulsion I saw in his face. He hated my guts. Everyone hated me. I was a bad girl. That was why Ben had never come back. He hated me too.
“I don’t understand,” he said, “…have you lost your mind?”
I hunched in a corner of the sofa, curled in a foetal position, my
dressing gown wrapped tightly to hide the bruises.
“No, but I do have a killer headache, so if you could keep it down to a dull roar, there’s a darling.” I was a barrier to his worry. Denial had replaced independence as my strong suit.
“Don’t you care that we saw you shitfaced and having sex in an alley with that scum? Don’t you care what you did to Dean?”
I knew he didn’t want to hurt me but he must’ve felt someone had to say it. On and on he went - blah, blah blah. All about my self-destructive behaviour hurting us all, how I couldn’t see it.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to sleep.” I rolled to laying, presenting him with my back, closing my eyes and praying if I ignored him for long enough he might go away. But Justin was never one to give up. After all, I was his best friend and if we couldn’t help each other when the chips were down then what was the good of our friendship.
“You’re not going to sleep. We need to talk.”
Grabbing me by the arm, he yanked me towards the mirror in the bathroom, shoving my face at it and pulling my gown from my shoulders to reveal the bruises up my arms and across my torso and neck.
“You think we haven’t seen them? Go on….look! This is not you. This is the product of Mark’s affection. He’s done the same thing to you as he does to everyone. He’s sucked you dry and left you for dead.”
But he hadn’t left me for dead, I knew exactly where he was.
I stared in the mirror. “It’s nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”
“And how long is it since you’ve had that? All you do is drink and smoke and knock back whatever drug it is that he’s feeding you. What are you taking by the way?”
“I do a bit of ‘speed’ now and then. I can handle it.” I flicked my fingers into the air as if to wave his concern away. “What’s the harm? It makes me feel good.”
“How are you paying for it?”
“I don’t.”
“He gives it to you, doesn’t he? Can’t you see you’re his slave? You’re whoring yourself.”
Oh for fuck’s sake, I thought. He had no idea.
“I don’t think you understand, Jus. Mark’s not like that at all. He’s highly strung. He’s had lots of problems that he’s trying to work through…”