Domesticated (5 page)

“But you’re not my mommy.”

“You never learn do you?”
she asked, letting go of my face. She smacked her hand with the ritzy hairbrush in a threatening manner. I knew what she was threatening.
“One last time, little girl. Repeat after me. I think you are way prettier than Dianna, Mommy.”

I tried to say it just to save my ass from that hairbrush that I knew was going to hurt like hell. It wouldn’t come out. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t call her my mom. And the next thing I knew, I was across her legs, taking one for my mom.

“She doesn’t love you. I don’t want you going there anymore. The next time she calls for you, you’re going to tell her you’re too busy, just like she is. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,”
I cried. Normally I could take her bare-hand spankings like a trooper and not shed a tear. Not the hairbrush. Holy hell. It hurt.

“Yes what?”

No way.

Adriana jerked me to the bed just in time for my father to come and save me. Thank god.

“What the hell is all the noise in here?”
my father asked, bursting in.

“I can’t do this anymore, Daron. You’ve got to do something with her. Last week it was the hair stunt, and now she’s calling me a sewer rat. You need to help with the discipline with this child,”
she ordered, handing him the brush.

My dad took the brush from her hand with an angry snarl. Adriana crossed her arms and gave him a
well?
look. My dad wouldn’t hit me. He never hit me. He didn’t do much of anything else, but he never hit me.

He dropped to his knees and held both my arms tightly while I sniffed, still feeling the sting in my ass.
“What has gotten into you? You can’t keep acting like this. It’s not fair to Adriana and your sisters. We all have to work together here. Do you understand me?”

I nodded, but then caught the look on Adriana’s face. She actually covered her mouth to keep the enormous smile hidden. I snapped. I came to my feet like a mad girl. Every curse word I had ever learned came flying out while my arms flared, going after her like a pissed off tornado. I was going for blood. My dad stood there with his mouth open, not sure what the hell was going on.

Adriana pushed me and I fell over the chair sideways, hitting my face on the hardwood floor.

“See. See what I mean?”
she yelled.

My dad jerked me up by one arm, not caring about the instant goose egg just above my eye. He held me against his legs and whipped me like I had never been before. I didn’t feel it. I felt dizzy and sick.

“Put her to bed,”
he finally said, leaving us alone.

“Don’t fuck with me. You’re never going to come before me in his eyes. Stop trying,”
Adriana whispered, turning down my bed. I crawled in, feeling disoriented. I’m sure now I had a concussion. I did puke that night, but I never woke up to know it. I slept in it and was made to clean it up the next day.

“Go to sleep, Sewer Rat,”
Adriana ordered.

I closed my eyes, but not before whispering with constricted eyes.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Her smartass expression changed briefly before closing my door.

I found myself on Seafood Strip, eating the best barbeque wings I’d ever tasted in my life. The side of cheese fries accented the tangy barbeque even more. The wine wasn’t quite up to par, but I guess I couldn’t expect much more than that, sitting on a street with red and white checkered tablecloths. Hell, I was eating my supper out of a basket. The likelihood that the wine would be anything but cheap was wishful thinking.

I didn’t stay too long that evening. The noise and cheap wine gave me a headache, and my stomach wasn’t feeling quite right. I presume it was the greasy food. I wasn’t used to eating like that. I did walk along the street, taking the long way back to my house. I stopped at a food stand and got a Coke when my eyes caught a young couple dancing on the makeshift dance floor in the street. Leaning against a metal sign, I observed the man, grinding into her backside while she swayed her hips into his.

The man held her hip with one hand and they both held beer bottles, oblivious to me watching inches from them, or the crowd around them. Coke entered the straw when I sucked, coating my tongue with the sweet carbonated drink while I wondered if they were a couple. Did they know each other before tonight? I often speculated how people could do that. How they could go home with a total stranger and have sex.

Was it wild and hot like in the movies I watched, or was it more conservative like Garrison and me? The guy whispered something to the girl and she nodded, agreeing to something with a smile. What was it? What was she agreeing to? My inquisitive addiction pushed me to follow them when he took her hand and they walked away down the sidewalk, hand in hand, to where I knew they were going to fuck.

Keeping my distance, I followed unnoticed, looking at other people and the little shops along the way. He grabbed her ass a couple times, and they stopped to make-out a time or two. I shouldn’t have gone so far. I was already a quarter mile from my house, and by the time the mushy, lovey-dovey couple made it to their row cabins, I was at least another quarter mile away.

I stayed back when they entered their little beach hut, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. The lights stayed off and I could only imagine what was going on in the dark. And then a light was switched on in the back of the cabin. The curtains were drawn, leaving only a small slit of light. I should go.

Of course, my compulsion wouldn’t let me do that. My pussy wouldn’t let me do that. It was throbbing like mad. My first impulse should have been to get the hell out of there. Something was seriously wrong with me. My desire won over the impulse and instead of doing what the normal person would do, I did the madness thing to do. I touched myself, applying a little pressure to the seam in my shorts. There was no denying my wet shorts. I felt it through the thick material.

I walked inconspicuously closer to the small break in the curtains, hoping it was a bedroom and to my delightful surprise, there they were. My heart sped to the same beat as my pulsating pussy when I saw her on her knees. The guy had his hands over his head with a look of pure pleasure. He was bigger than Garrison—a lot bigger. She was a trooper, though, taking all of him to the back of her throat.

I looked around in the dark night, wanting to avoid being caught. Peeping Tom wasn’t a charge I could explain to Garrison. He would never understand my addiction. The night air filled my lungs with my deep breath when I turned my attention back to the blowjob going on right in front of me. This was so much better than my tablet. The man moved when I looked back. Pressing my eye closer to the window and closing the other for a better view, I watched. He was now holding her head, shoving his cock in and out, fucking her mouth. I moaned, imaging it was my mouth being violated.

He pulled her to her feet next and moved her naked body to the bed, spreading her wide while he finger fucked her—hard. I could faintly hear her moans through the thick glass, but the expression on her lustful face and the way her body shuddered below him forced me to move my fingers through the top of my shorts. I didn’t have panties on because I had omitted them after my shower. I did that sometimes. I liked the thought of my pussy unconcealed. Aahh. I was so fucking wet and my pussy was extremely grateful for the feel of my fingers.

Sliding the wetness to my overzealous nub, I flattened my other hand against the wood siding. I needed balance while I watched the man turn and straddle her, backward. He lifted her legs and slapped her pussy over and over until she was calling out with the same orgasm I was sporting. Folding under my self-stimulation, I moaned, imagining the slaps to my pussy.

“Hey, who’s over there?”

Fuck. Like a real life peeping Tom, I ran, darting between the neighboring house and up another, back the way I came. I looked behind me several times until I was once again around people. My heart fluttered with adrenaline at the thought of being caught. Jesus, I was never doing that again.

I looked down at my unbuttoned shorts when a man asked me if I needed some help. My light curly hair just barely peeking out. The zipper quickly came up and I buttoned it right away. I did watch Garrison’s brother have sex once, but Carter did it the same way Garrison did. I watched, rewinding the security camera. Lisa did come beneath him though, either that or she was very good at faking it.

Watching Carter didn’t turn me on like this had. I didn’t even get to see his cock. Just like Garrison, he waited until he was under the covers to remove his shorts and her nighty was lifted below her hips, but no breasts were exposed. I can count on one hand how many times Garrison touched my boobs. Breasts weren’t for pleasure, they were for nourishment for our baby that I would never have.

That’s what he told me when I requested it the couple times. I think it was like the third time. I was drunk on a lot of wine and didn’t ask. I just lifted my nightgown and touched my nipples myself.

“Stop doing that. You’re ruining the moment,”
Garrison said as he slid into me.

“Then you do it. Suck on them, Garrison.”

He stopped.
“We’re not doing this like this. You’re making it dirty. It’s not supposed to be dirty. Just lay there, will you?”

Adriana used to tell me that sex was dirty, too. If it was so dirty, why did I have such a fascination with it? I often wondered if my parents divorced because of that. On one of the few occasions that I did get to stay with my mother, I watched her have sex, sort of. I couldn’t really see anything. She was on the sofa, sitting on the guys lap, sliding up and down his shaft. I was sure Adriana and my father never had sex that way.

I sort of cheated the next morning. I called Olivia for help. Although I called the marina all by myself, I wasn’t sure of what questions to ask. I wanted to stay out the entire day, but wasn’t sure how it worked. Did I have to bring my own food? Did the marina take care of that for me? What if the driver was a bad captain? What if he was a felon or something? Olivia assured me that she would take care of it all. She would make sure I had lunch and supper provided and the only thing I needed to do was show up at one. I thanked her, telling her I would transfer payment to her account. She didn’t want to be paid, she only wanted to come back and work for me when I returned. I promised her I would let her return, and wished I would have let her come with me.

I was proud of myself for not waking up horny, or bringing myself to bliss. Those days were few and far between. I have no excuses to why I am the way I am. I’m sure it was some sort of illness. Blame it on the Paraphilias Disorder I was never diagnosed with. I don’t know, but something made me this way. Something wasn’t right in my brain. I knew this with every part of my awareness. The only problem with accepting that I did have a problem was not being able to tell anyone. I had absolutely no one to talk to about it.

My husband would deem me crazy, my mother didn’t really talk to me, and I had no real friends. I remember accidently letting the word cunt slip once around the snobby class back home. Noble Ms. Angelica softly told me that reputable ladies like us didn’t use the C word. I bet the stuck-up bitch had never said the C word, the P word, or the F word.

I had microwavable oatmeal on my deck, searching the sea for our yacht that should be pulling to our little space on the waterfront any time now. I ignored the thoughts telling me I hadn’t come yet, and ignored the sensations between my legs begging for it. Trying to rid the visions of the girl from the night before from my mind, I finished my breakfast and picked up the broom in the corner. I could sweep the sand from the wood planks. That should get my mind off it.

It worked. I swept the sand to the edge, watching it rain to the ground. It wasn’t until the broom landed between my legs that the impulse wasn’t going away. I bent to pick up a piece of paper, not wanting to litter the beach. The handle of the broom rubbed my clit just the right way. After resting the end of it on the banister, I walked up to it, looking out to the people on the beach. The neighbors on my right were cooking something on their grill and I walked another step. Hmmm. Right there.

I rocked unobtrusively on the yellow handle. This extra stimulus seemed to do the trick and the predictable happened. I nodded to the neighbor and grasped the wood rail with both hands, all while trying not to change my expression. I pretended to pull my hair from the back of my neck while the orgasm enveloped me and I took it. Ripple after ripple.

I wasn’t going to take my phone out on the boat with me, knowing from experience, I would lose any form of cell service fairly quickly. Plus, I had my tablet if I wanted to read or watch a movie. The only reason I did bring it was because of the ringing just as I closed the glass door.

“Hey,” I answered Garrison’s call.

“Hi, what are you doing? I tried to call you last night. I told you I didn’t want you out alone. I’m going to send Olivia there.”

“Garrison, I didn’t go out. I wasn’t feeling well. I was asleep by nine. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you called.” I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure why I had this expensive cell phone to begin with. He was the only one that called, unless Angelica called, wanting me to give my time for some charity event or something.

“Oh, well. I still think this was a bad idea, you going there alone and all.”

“I’m fine, Garrison. I was just heading out to spend the day on the yacht.” It took almost a month for me to talk my husband into letting me come alone. I wanted to feel it, as dumb as that sounds. I was almost thirty and had never lived alone, never been independent, never an autonomous. I wanted that. I longed for it, and I thought maybe the three months at the beach alone would help with that aspiration in my life. If I’m being honest, it didn’t. I sort of missed Olivia, or ordering her around anyway.

“I’ll do my best to make it out there Friday. I can do some work there.”

“Okay,” I answered. I didn’t really want him there. I would rather have had Olivia than Garrison. I certainly wouldn’t disclose that to him. What if I did? What if I told him he did nothing for me, that I never loved him and I didn’t want to be with him? What if I told him I wanted out, a divorce? Yeah, what if I wanted a divorce?

“Kendra?!”

“Huh?” Shit. How long was he saying my name?

“Huh? Did you really just say that?”

“Sorry, I dropped my phone.”

“That’s it. I’m sending Olivia. I knew not to let you go there alone. Your mother tried to tell me it was a bad idea. I should have listened.”

“I dropped my phone, Garrison.” He didn’t know it was a lie. Jesus. He made it sound like I just committed a crime. A small snort escaped my lips, thinking about the peeping Tom crime I did commit.