by Liv Bennett
My cock hardens with the fresh images of Julie’s body in my mind, the warm water caressing my skin only adding to the pleasure. I can’t jerk off thinking of Julie. It’s as gross as imagining Chloe, my sister, and that’s a whole new level of assholeness I don’t want to be labeled with, even though no one would know.
Closing my eyes, I force my thoughts toward my last couple of sexual escapades. Felicia and Penelope. The two would make a great team in bed; Felicia sucking me off, Penelope riding my face, while Lindsay and McKenzie making out on the other side of the bed. Now that’s an image that has my cock raging hard in a heartbeat.
Covering the head, I start rubbing it in a tight hold. What I need is several women making out and competing to get me off. The taste of pussy, melodic sounds of a climaxing woman, cunts swollen and filled with my come. Why in God’s name would I want to give that up for some ungrateful woman whose only pleasure will come from spending my money and nagging me to no end?
The image of McKenzie slipping her fingers inside Lindsay does the trick and makes me jerk a hot load of come into my palm. Breathless, I watch the water wash off my softening cock.
After several times of soaping my body, I decide it’s time to get out. With a towel safely wrapped around my hips, I head out of the bathroom, hurry into the guest bedroom down the hall, and smile with satisfaction when I see my clothes neatly laid out on the bed.
“Breakfast is ready!” Julie calls out, the liveliness in her voice pushing a round of old memories of her in our house to the surface of my consciousness. She was always the one gathering us for breakfast. I wouldn’t have actually gone down to the kitchen and confronted Michael’s evil face if it hadn’t been for the cheery conversation Julie provided.
Hastily, I put on my boxers, dress pants and shirt and stroll into the kitchen.
“Spinach-wrapped egg bites?” I yell, widening my eyes to show my surprise and appreciation. “You remember my favorite breakfast dish?”
“Of course I remember.” She fills the mugs with coffee and sets them beside the plates. “It wasn’t that long ago, was it?”
I try to count the years that must have passed since the days Julie lived with us. “Sixteen, seventeen. That’s hell of a long time if you ask me.”
She makes a face and pulls up a chair. “That’s really long.”
“Let’s see if you still got it right.” I cut a piece of egg with the fork and pop it in my mouth, unable to keep my eyes from rolling at the delectable bite. “Ahh, Julie. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? This food is to die for.” I quickly sit on the chair and fork the rest of the entire egg and swallow it down. It’s so tasty, it’s better than an orgasm.
“Want some more?”
“You have to ask that?”
She puts two more wraps on my plate and watches me gobble them down in a matter of seconds. “You’re an animal.” She shakes her head as she pushes the entire tray of eggs in front of me.
“This was my mother’s favorite, too.”
“I know,” she states with pride evident in the tone of her voice.
“I saw that you keep a picture of her in your bedroom.”
“She’ll always have a place in my life.”
My lips curl into a pained smile, a lump forming in my throat. Speaking of the past isn’t easy and hurts every time. It cuts deep to remember those violent days, the suicide of my mother, the abuse my siblings and I endured at Michael’s hands, and the helplessness to do anything about it. Even Julie, herself, had her share of trauma from Michael.
When she first came into our home, she had practically been abandoned. She was the daughter of a successful businessman at that time, but, unfortunately, her father was also Michael’s direct competition. Michael managed to push him out of the business and into bankruptcy and finally caused his opponent to die of a brain seizure.
Julie’s mother ended up with nothing but debts and a young daughter she didn’t really want. Mom ran to help her, lent her money, and volunteered to take care of Julie while Julie’s mother found a way to get her life back together. Weeks became months, then years, but her mother never came back to claim her.
I’d hear Julie crying in those early days of moving in with us in the small bedroom Mom arranged for her despite Michael’s orders to get rid of her for good. As promised, Mom took good care of her and treated her as if she were one of her own kids. Mom had so much love to give…I can’t bear the thought of being deprived of it.
In return, Julie showed Mom unconditional respect and loyalty and stood by her no matter what…even when the day came that she had to pay her debt to Michael. I clearly remember how her eyes sparkled and her face beamed that morning during breakfast. Without Michael around, our breakfasts were magnificent. Mom would cook delicious pastries and eggs for us, and we’d eat and laugh to no end.
Michael came in and told Mom he had to take Julie to a doctor’s appointment. Mom looked concerned and tried her best to keep Julie safe from Michael’s twisted plans. When the day was over and Michael brought Julie back, her liveliness had vanished, and the sparkle in her eyes had perished. Her cry-filled nights returned and she never returned to being that hopeful girl she once had been.
My appetite diminishes on the spot, but I eat two more eggs out of courtesy, all the while keeping my eyes fixed on my plate so Julie won’t notice the change in my mood.
“This was wonderful,” I compliment her and take my dish to the sink. “Thanks for having me over,” I say and quickly head for the door before she can distract me.
“I’ll text you the information about your dates,” she reminds me while standing by the door as I stroll to the elevator.
“Thanks.”
“See you at the party?”
“Yeah.”
CH 10 - JULIE - The Goodbye
~
I was only twelve when my mother kissed my cheek on a cold rainy day and told me she had to go and that I’d have to stay with another family for a while. She placed my hand into Irene’s and gave me a reassuring smile, although her blue eyes were filled with tears.
“She’ll take care of you, but in return you’ll have to do what she says.” Taking a step away from me, she adjusted her black scarf and long black coat around her small and slim body. Raindrops sparkled on her short brown hair and pale skin.
I refused to look at Irene and kept my eyes firmly on my mother. I was angry and confused. I didn’t understand what was going on. I’d had babysitters staying with me when my parents went out. And I certainly didn’t see what the big deal about Irene was.
“We’ll have lots of fun together.” Irene knelt before me to put herself on my eyelevel and squeezed my hand gently in hers. “I have a daughter your age. She’s always wanted a sister.” Her warm brown eyes shimmered when she gazed at me with a nurturing glance that promised safety and care. Her smile was genuine and the only thing that kept me from bursting into tears of anger.
My mother cleared her throat, and with one glance at her, I knew she was uncomfortable. “I won’t be gone for long¸” she said in a low voice.
“I know.” Irene straightened and opened her handbag with her free hand, slipping out a thick envelope. “This should cover everything you need.”
My mother clasped the envelope with both hands and quickly examined its contents. “Thank you,” were the last words I heard from her before she slid into the back seat of a taxi and took off.
I waved after her, resisting the urge to cry as the taxi disappeared among the other vehicles on the busy street. She’d come back to pick me up. She always did. My worries were in vain.
I looked up at Irene and forced myself to smile. Different from my other babysitters, she lifted my hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. Her kiss felt good and helped me relax, although I still worried about my mother and when she’d pick me up.
Irene wasn’t lying about having a daughter—Chloe. She was remarkably beautiful and had many nice clothes and toys, but she rarely smile
d. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. Her mom hadn’t left her with some stranger and she owned everything a child could dream off.
Her two brothers weren’t much different in terms of gloominess, either. They usually kept to themselves in their bedrooms when their father was at home. When he wasn’t, now that was a reason to celebrate.
Michael was a stern man who didn’t know the meaning of a genuine smile. He made sure I knew he despised my presence in his home and even told me to my face to “fuck off” more than once. I feared him to the extent that I couldn’t talk in his presence. I couldn’t even move when he was around. I was afraid one night, while everyone was asleep, he’d take me out of my bed, drag me out, and leave me alone in the woods.
I fiercely willed my mother to come and take me back. My heartbeat would race when there was a knock on the front door, my hopes high that the visitor would be my mother. She’d wrap her arms around me, press me into her warm body, and whisper to me that the time had come to go back home.
I waited and waited...watched out of the window of my new bedroom for a taxi, shedding tears into my new pillow in the night while praying to have her back the following day.
The memories of her and my father slowly began to fade, and I hated myself for starting to forget the details of her face. Despite my grief, I enjoyed my new family. Chloe was mostly silent and into herself, but once she warmed up to me, we became best friends. Zane tried to ignore me for most of the first three years of my stay with them, but whenever I had a problem, he’d leave everything and run to my rescue. Ace was the lonely soul of the family, and Irene tended him relentlessly.
I loved each and every one of them, but loving someone comes with a price. And the price is, hurting with them when they were hurt. My heart bled for them when Michael mercilessly punished their young bodies, slashing their tender souls. He was a maniac, a demon disguised as a human.
He punished Chloe with uncountable strokes of his belt until she passed out from pain for simply inviting a classmate to her birthday party, who happened to be a boy. The embarrassment she endured lasted long after the scars on her body had healed. She was banned from talking to boys. She couldn’t so much as glance at one. And when Zane or Ace tried to interfere with Michael’s cruel punishment of her, they were rewarded with double the amount of Chloe’s punishment.
To me, he was a real murderer, because he killed his children alive. He denied them a happy and decent life and sucked out their souls and their joy of living.
He didn’t touch me, though. After he realized that Irene wouldn’t give up on me, he simply ignored me and carried on with his life as if I’d never existed.
Until one day he told me I needed to do something for him.
Irene didn’t believe him when he said he was taking me to the doctor. She stood between him and the door to block his way. “You’re not taking her anywhere,” she shouted, despite knowing all too well how he reacted to being yelled at.
He merely gripped her arms and shoved her to the side, signaling me with his head to go ahead.
Irene hit the side table and nearly fell. “No,” she shouted behind me and grabbed Michael by his elbow to stop him, and I stood paralyzed at the doorway, unable to take my eyes from the train wreck taking place before me. Something was terribly wrong, or Irene wouldn’t try so hard to stop him, endangering her wellbeing and that of her children.
Michael pushed her away so hard, she fell headfirst to the floor, both Zane and Ace jumping to her side to help her up. Taking advantage of their panic, Michael ushered me out and into his car.
While his driver drove the car, Michael fished an envelope out of his briefcase and handed it to me without speaking. Curious and my heart fluttering, I opened the envelope and pulled some documents and a picture out of it, gazing at them with a questioning look. The photo was an image of a woman, who looked very much like my mother, with a hospital gown on.
“Your mother is sick,” Michael said briefly and pointed at the picture in my hand. “Skin cancer. She needs money for her treatment.”
It’d been so long since I’d heard anything about my mother, Michael’s words caught me off-guard and punched the air out of my lungs. “Where is she?”
“Doesn’t matter. In a hospital in Boston, fighting for her life.”
I dared shift my gaze from the picture and lift my eyes to Michael’s face. “Can I see her?”
He glanced down at me and, for the first time, there was no indifference or anger in his eyes. “No, but you can save her life.”
“How?”
“I’ll explain how to you in a moment.”
He didn’t speak for the rest of the drive while I tried to make sense of the medical terms on the papers in my hands. Stage 4 Melanoma. Cancerous cells metastasized to local lymph node. Biopsy. Chemotherapy. Surgery. Medical fees for recommended surgery and follow-up treatment: $150,000.00.
I was only sixteen by that time and the most money I’d ever had at one time was a twenty dollar bill. I didn’t have a clear concept of how much $150,000.00 was, but I knew only a handful of people could afford it, and my mother wasn’t one of them.
I was heartbroken over being abandoned, but I didn’t want her to suffer. I was ready to accept anything Michael wanted from me so she could recover. I missed her terribly, although I didn’t remember much of her after so many years of being away from her, except for the comfort I’d felt in her arms, listening to her soothing words. I wished she hadn’t gone away. I wished things had been different and I still had both my mother and father.
I couldn’t help the tears streaming down my cheeks as the car pulled in front of a building that looked like a hotel. Even though I didn’t have the slightest idea what we were doing there, I followed Michael through the reception area and into the elevator.
“Stop crying,” he whispered once the elevator doors closed, his voice devoid of any emotion. “You’ll save your mother. She’ll live. I’ve got the best doctors in the country treating her.”
“Thank you!” I wiped my tears away, clutching the envelope holding my mother’s diagnosis and picture.
“You don’t need to thank me. You’re going to earn the money for her medical expenses yourself.”
“How?” I looked up at him for an answer, but he kept his eyes on the elevator doors and didn’t open his mouth until he and I stood in a luxury suite. “I need you to listen to me carefully.” He pulled me down to a couch and sat next to me, staring directly into my eyes. “You’re a beautiful girl…innocent and sweet. You’ll use that to save your mother. I have a business associate interested in you. He’s ready to pay whatever it takes to have you.”
My heart sank into my stomach. I was sixteen, still a child.
“It’s only for a couple of hours, then I’ll wire the money to the hospital where your mother is a patient. She’ll have her surgery today, as soon as they have the expenses paid up front.”
“But, I have never had…sex before.”
“That’s kind the whole point, darling. Think about your mother. You’re her only chance. She’ll die very soon if she doesn’t get the surgery.”
I swallowed hard, trying to catch my breath and think a way out of this puzzle. She’d left me, hadn’t even contacted me, and now I had to surrender myself to a pervert so she could have a chance to live. Life wasn’t fair. “I can’t do it.”
“You can’t? If your mother dies, which she will if she doesn’t get the surgery immediately, do you think you can continue living? Knowing she could have survived, but you were too selfish to help her? You won’t get another chance like this. If you turn down the offer now, my associate won’t be begging you to spread your legs. He’ll just move on to the next available virgin. You’ll not earn anything out of it, and your mother will die in a matter of days. Is that what you want?”
The cruelty in his words had me crying hard into my hands. Of course I didn’t want my mother to die, no matter how she had treated me.
A knoc
k on the door startled me.
“Go to the bathroom to wash up and don’t come out until I say so.” Michael stood, pointing to the bathroom, and strode to the door.
Closing the bathroom door behind me, I stood in the dark for a moment to listen to the conversation taking place on the other side. It was hard to make out the words. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they could be talking about. Probably sorting out the details of the indecent agreement.
I turned on the lights and took a long look at myself, trying to engrave in my mind every little detail of my appearance before losing my innocence at the hands of a pervert. For being in my situation, I looked unusually calm, save for the tears rolling down my cheeks.
I washed my face with cold water and ordered myself to stop crying right that second. I could be giving myself to a man for the first time, but I wouldn’t give anyone the pleasure of seeing me crying and vulnerable.
My eyes were still red when I dried my face with a hand towel. I breathed in and out slowly, telling myself this was for my mother, that her health was more important than a few hours of discomfort.
I wasn’t nervous anymore when the bathroom door opened after a soft knock. Michael stood in the doorway, his face revealing no emotion. “I’ll wait for you down at reception.”
He watched me step out of the bathroom and squeezed my shoulder with a gentle hold before stalking out of the suite. Without allowing myself to think, I took slow steps toward the bedroom and pushed open the door.
The man who had paid thousands of dollars for my virginity stood by the king-sized bed and turned his head toward me as I stepped in. A sickening smile curved his mouth, and the repulsive sweep of his eyes over my body turned my stomach upside down.
I knew him. Irene had invited him and his family over for dinner a couple of times. He had two daughters about my age. He’d asked me how school was going, and if I had any hobbies. How could he think of me that way?
He sat on the bed and patted it in invitation. “Hello, Julie.”
My stomach wouldn’t give me a rest. I couldn’t push away the disgusting thoughts of his hands and lips all over me. I couldn’t even walk toward him, how was I supposed to spend hours in the same bed with him?