Mr. Green
By
Indelicated Doll
Melody peeked out the blue checkered sheet covering her bedroom window and noticed that there was ice all around the inside edge and along the sill. Mom still wasn’t home and it was after six. The blizzard was coming down hard and she was alone in the tiny, poorly lit, low-income housing unit. Looking in the fridge, she saw the ever-present bottle of crusty ketchup making its solo appearance. There was a box of macaroni and cheese next to the ancient cans of cranberry sauce and green peas in the cabinet. Score! She dumped the box of macaroni into a pot of boiling water, and fuck if a few worm skins didn’t float to the surface. If there had been holes in the cheese packet as well, she may have tossed the whole thing, but the packet intact, she skimmed off the floaters and ate it anyway, careful to inspect each mouthful.
The house was silent. She crawled into her bed and got under her purple covers to stay warm, homework the furthest thing from her mind. It was her senior year, she had dropped all but two of her classes and was failing them both. Since moving into government housing, she had to take two city buses to school and with the time change, it was dark and cold in the mornings. She rarely made it in time and sometimes she skipped it altogether. Her few friends knew something was bothering her, but she made sure no one knew how difficult things had become. And no one asked.
There was a kicking at the door. She threw back her covers and ran to open it. There stood her exhausted mother clutching her red Pendleton coat close to her body. Her long, straight, black hair was matted with snow, her nose raw and runny, and she was shivering pathetically. Her gaunt face was twisted into a miserable expression of angst and distress. When she laid eyes on her daughter, she lost all semblance of control, and the tears came flooding out in raspy, hitched breaths. Melody got her inside and sat her down on the couch. She wrapped her arms around her frozen mother trying to rub the cold off of her shoulders. In a weepy torrent, her mom lamented how she had missed the bus coming home, the next bus wasn’t for 40 minutes, and that bus was late because of the icy roads. To top it all off, she was slipping and sliding in her poorly chosen flats the whole seven blocks home from the bus stop.
What she didn’t need to say was that she was at the end of a long and desperate coke binge. About six months earlier, Melody’s mom got divorced from her seventeen-year-younger husband, and since then she had quickly descended into a downward spiral of complete abandon. She first started using cocaine when Melody was around thirteen years old and by the time Mom met her future ex, three years later, she was a regular weekend warrior. Mom had made the horrible mistake of putting her new hubby’s name on the mortgage, and of course, once he went bankrupt in the divorce, she lost the house.
She and Melody stayed with a variety of coke-head friends over the next couple of months before qualifying for housing. By then, she had started dealing the stuff, but most of it went up her nose. She would disappear for a week at a time and then crash in her room for days. There was always a man willing to try to take care of her, but they were using too, and it never worked out. Eventually, she came to the point where she felt desperately alone, tossed away, hopeless, and defeated.
Melody soothingly rocked her mother, lying that it was going to be okay, while her Mom heaved great sobs that left her breathless and unable to talk. When she was all cried out, she leaned her head on Melody’s shoulder like a child and whimpered for her own mother to take care of her.
Two days later they were on a plane across the country, one bag each, to be near her family in a small Gulf Coast town in Florida.
She had hit rock bottom.
***
It was second semester. A new school. One small chance of graduating. She put her fears aside, accepted her new living situation and tried knuckling down.
“Melody?” Mr. Colon was passing back their papers. “This is an excellent rhetorical essay. You made me think about why we have fluoride added to our water. You persuaded me. Great job!”
Wow, right in front of the whole class! She felt a warm sense of pride steal up her face, transforming her normally melancholy expression into a reticent smile. She craved attention to the point of feeling ashamed of how badly she needed it. Her smile only served as a glimpse into her secretly insecure sense of self. She forced her face back into compliance, pretending not to notice that all eyes were on her, studying the wood grain pattern of her plastic desk top.
She felt strangely out of touch with her Florida peers, who wore their hair carefully curled and sprayed in place, so different from her long, dark hair swept to the side, creating a perfect veil to hide behind. Boys her age all had wispy, baby mustaches. This place, Armpit USA, this school, seemed to be stuck in a time warp. Her sweaters and boots, meant for a much colder environment, were suddenly out of style in this muggy climate. The morning was cool, but it was getting hotter and she was seriously overheating. She couldn’t draw attention to herself by taking off her turquoise knit pullover, uncovering the deeply sweaty pits of her already yellowed, White Tee she had on underneath. That would have been more embarrassing than the mortifying drips of sweat that she was discreetly wiping off her forehead. She had to get out of this.
“Mr. Colon? I don’t feel well. Can I go to the nurse?”
“You are probably coming down with the crud,” he said understandingly.
She glanced up at him gratefully, took the pass and quickly disappeared from the many watchful eyes.
***
She walked into a cramped room with two teacher’s desks lined up by the wall. The desk closest to the door was empty but the other was occupied by a small, bland, pleasant looking man, with receding blond hair and glasses. Interrupted, he looked up and inspected the young girl in front of him.
“I’m looking for the nurse,” she said as she took a couple more steps through the doorway.
“She’s not in at the moment. Do you need something?” He got up out of his chair.
“I just don’t feel that great.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay.
“Why don’t you have a seat and wait a minute?” He gestured to a padded chair against the wall. Unable to think of a reason not to, she decided that maybe she could wait a minute. She sat in the chair and looked awkwardly around the room. He leaned against his desk in front of her, inspecting her interestedly.
Aware of his gaze, she read his nameplate. “Oh, you’re a psychologist?”
“Yes, I’m Mr. Shear...and you are...?” He leaned across and offered his hand.
Smiling, she shook it politely. “Melody.” She dropped her hand and added, “I just moved here with my mom.”
“No brothers or sisters?”
“No, well, yes, but my brother didn’t come with us, but that’s a long story.” Intrigued by his show of interest, she tilted her heart shaped face up and favored him with a vulnerable stare.
He was instantly fascinated, noticing her large, serious, hazel eyes. “I see,” he acknowledged. “How are you liking it here?”
“It’s...um...very different.” She slowly revealed a troubled smile.
“Where are you from?”
“Colorado.”
“Oh, you’re a long way from home,” he smiled sympathetically.
With a big sigh, she said, “Well, this is home now, I guess, so I’d better get used to it.”
“That’s a healthy attitude,” he nodded approvingly.
She nods back in agreement. There was a long, uncomfortable pause. The seconds ticked by as he studied her.
Breaking the silence, she offered, “My mom has always seen a therapist.”
Picking up on her cue, he says, “Well, we can schedule an appointment for you, if you’d like to come in and continue our conversation.”
She casually shrugs her shoulders. “Okay.”
“How’s Wednesday?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yup, you can stop by after school. My counseling office is upstairs, room two-thirteen. You can meet me there.”
“Yeah, sure.” She smiled brightly.
She left with a little bounce to her step. He had noticed her. She speculated that he may have even been attracted to her. She picked up on it like a starving kitten sniffing out scraps of fatty meat.
***
He started with the standard questions.
“Are your parents divorced?”
“They split up when I was a baby. I don’t even remember them being together,” she said, indicating that the divorce was not an issue.
“And you live with your mother?”
She nods.
“Why did you move to Florida?”
“My mom needed to get away...”
Over the next several sessions, Melody told Mr. Shear the truth about her mother. Once he asked if she had ever wanted to stay in Colorado like her brother. She told him that was never an option, not even for a second. She didn’t blame her brother one bit for finding his own way. He had left around the time of the divorce, but not her. She and her mom took care of each other. On other occasions, she told him about some of the experiences she’d had with boys. She talked about having crushes on some of her mom’s friends, who often came over to the house. She talked about using pot. She talked about her love of writing. She shared her poems with him. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. It was his job to do that, but he was good at his job. He was happy to see her whenever she came and that made her feel welcome. She started to think that maybe she was a bright spot in his week and she liked that just fine.
***
Every Wednesday for months, she would go in to talk with Mr. Shear. She got used to him hugging her upon their greeting. Their hugs seemed to last longer and to become more intimate with every session. She had noticed him hugging other female students, as well. She found out through High School gossip that he had a reputation for being a little creepy, a little too touchy feely. The popular girls avoided him like he was the plague. She was not really surprised to find out they all referred to him as “Huggy Harry” and not in an endearing way. Once she saw him corner tall-blond-big-boobed Missy Talber in the hall. Missy reluctantly gave him the “wide girth” hug, rolled her eyes at her friends behind his back, and then smiled artificially at him as she pulled away.
She herself, however, did not feel the same way. She was genuinely glad to see him and didn’t mind the hugs. He was not much taller than her, but still, she had to reach up to get her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Although he was quite socially awkward, he always smelled clean, was always nicely dressed in pressed shirts and he always seemed to have just brushed his teeth. He wore khaki pants and sweater vests with colored patterns, like pale yellow, baby blue and coral pink diamonds. Her favorite was the tweed jacket with the brown elbow patches that he always wore.
She especially enjoyed having the undivided attention of a therapist, a male therapist, asking her what she thought about things. Talking honestly with him was so much more satisfying than trying to cover up who she really was. Confiding her stories made her feel close to him. He was attentive to her feelings and seemed absorbed in the details of her life’s adventures. She started to believe that she had something interesting to say, that she was special, special to him. She also recognized that he was developing a physical attraction to her, but she didn’t mind that either.
***
“Can I ask you a question, Mr. Shear?”
“I thought I was the one asking questions.” He gave her a warm smile and then conceded. “Sure.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Too long.”
“Oh.” She gave him a sideways glance.
“Is that your wife?” she asked pointing to a picture on his desk. It showed him with a woman with thin, dirt brown hair, no make up, and a tight smile that did not warm her face.
“Yes,” he answered, not offering any other information.
Digging deeper she asked, “How did you meet?”
“We’re not supposed to be talking about me.”
“Come on,” she teased. “I want to know something about you, too!”
“We met in church.”
She nodded. They sat in silence a moment.
He revealed to her that after several awkward encounters with women in his past, never resulting in intimacy, his wife was the only woman he had been with.
“How long ago did you get married?”
“A hundred years!” he cracked a smile that suggested he was being lighthearted. “Do I seem that old?”
“Yeah! You seem pretty old to me!” she laughed at her own teasing. “How old are you?”
“I’m not gonna answer that!”
“Thirty-seven?”
He gestures with his thumb that the number is higher.
“Forty-two?”
Higher.
“Fifty-two?”
He gives the thumbs down, with a sour look.
“Forty-six?”
Higher
“Forty-seven?”
“Ding, ding, ding!”
“Forty-seven! Are you really forty-seven?”
“All right, I’m not playing this game anymore!”
She was giggling at him. “Geez, you are old!”
His pink face became a brighter red, but he was smiling. He watched her face as she laughed. She noticed the way he was looking at her and if she hadn’t stood up to leave, she thought he may have tried to kiss her. She didn’t hold that against him. She thought it was exciting to have a grown man openly flirting with her.
“Well, see you next week.” She held his eyes with a knowing look. She touched his shoulder and he reached up and took her hand and held it in his.
“You are a remarkable young woman,” he said.
Without pulling away, she answered, “Thank you.” She held his manicured hand a moment longer and then slowly turned away. She left, simultaneously feeling a rush of girlish glee mixed with the queasy realization that she had crossed some forbidden line, with him willingly following along. She was playing with fire. She hoped no one noticed her flushed face and shaky hands as she left his office.
***
Another week had passed.
“How is your mother doing now?”
“She’s fine. She got a job as a secretary for a moving company.”
“She’s clean?”
“Sometimes,” she answered evasively.
She divulged to him that her mom had found some new-age, hippie-dippy kind of people, living on the fringe, who ripped off Native American sweat lodge ceremonies, and tried to conduct them speaking their own version of Lakota. They were very cultish, and she didn’t enjoy seeing them. Mom had also discovered the neighbor couple who were into coke and pot. Melody babysat their two psycho kids on occasion. She knew her mom was using again, but she seemed to be more or less holding it together. She managed to go to work everyday and keep up a social life. No big deal.
Then he asked her a weird question.
“Do you feel safe?”
“What do you mean?
“I mean, do you trust the people your mom has around her?”
“Yes?”
“Say more.”
“I don’t really like her friends, but they would never...hurt me or anything.”
“You don’t sound very convincing.”
She shrugged her shoulders warily, “It’s fine!”
***
Melody purposefully missed her next appointment. She had to admit, that she was feeling regretful about being so open with him. It’s one thing to talk about the past, but now he was wanting to know about the present. What if she was getting her mom in trouble? What if she had already told him too many details? Maybe it was better if he didn’t know too much about what was going on now. Besides, what if anyone found out about how she had been flirting with him. She started to feel weird and guilty about her interactions with him in his office, so she decided to pull back, and make herself scarce. If he asked, she’d say that she needed to go to the math homework help on Wednesdays if she wanted to pass. For three weeks she avoided him at all costs and managed to not run into him at all. It was a relief to feel that she wasn’t doing anything wrong anymore and she set about cutting him completely out of her life.
***
It was Friday afternoon and as usual, her mom was off somewhere. Probably staying at the “commune,” as she liked to call it.
She sucked in a long drag off the shiny, pink pipe she borrowed from her mom’s bedside table. Too much. After a good five or six-seconds, she couldn’t hold it in any longer and choked out the dragon’s share of smoke in great barks and gasps. That was a good one. She left it in the same position she found it in and went back to her room. It wasn’t long before time slowed down and she felt the effects of the Jilly Bean, also borrowed from her mom’s stash. She loved getting high. It heightened her senses and she enjoyed looking at herself in her full length mirror next to her corner desk, admiring what others apparently, could not see. She knew from many past experiments that if she propped her leg on her desk chair, she could see the curve of her back and butt in the little mirror on the wall opposite her. Although she was tiny, she had shapely curves that accentuated the smallness of her waist. Her little butt was full and round and the swell of her buttocks started high from the arch of her back. The small mounds of her breasts started pushing up practically at her shoulder tops and hardly had any droop to them. She would watch her image as she touched herself to see what she looked like when she was aroused. The effects of marijuana made her vivid imagination come alive and she could always count on her brain to take her to a sexual place. She loved visualizing herself as a sexy woman, but it was something she could enjoy only by herself. In real life, she covered up in big baggy clothes and made herself practically unnoticeable, but tonight she was alone and could take her time exploring her body, which is exactly what she intended to do. Earlier, she had taken a long, hot shower and let the rich conditioner sit extra long while she shaved her legs and her delicate vagina, revealing a plump little pocket holding everything tidily tucked in and nicely hidden beneath a tight, neat line. She loved being smooth and used a scented lotion all over her body. She tried her new black charcoal facial mask along with her leave-in conditioner that she spritzed on her ends before blow drying her hair. She inspected her face closely in the mirror as silent, anonymous, commenters in her imagination marveled at the velvety tone of her skin, and all without makeup. How could anyone be so beautiful? She expertly applied eye liner and mascara, giving step-by-step directions, as her imaginary You-Tube fans followed along. She was alone a lot and learned how to enjoy her time.
She put on a green miniskirt and her pink, long bell-sleeved, cotton top that tightly molded to her torso. She had one pair of white lacy panties and one pair of black patent high heels and she put those on, too.
She was on her way to get a towel to hang over her window because even though her blinds were down, they were fucked up badly with holes and bent places, when her phone started buzzing. Mom! Maybe she’s on her way home, or maybe she needs something. And she was high. Crap. Still, she was slightly let down to see an unknown number, but was quick to jump on the notion that maybe her mom was calling from someone else’s phone or something.
“Hello?”
“Melody?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?” She became confused, still thinking about her mother.
“Who is this?”
“Mr. Green.” He sounded as if she should know him.
“Is my mom with you?”
“No. She isn’t home?”
“No, I thought ...” Her spidey senses kicked in and she was suddenly wary. She didn’t say anything.
“Are you there?” he asked.
A tentative “Uh” was all she could produce while she gauged the situation.
“Don’t hang up, Melody. I’m right outside your apartment. If you hang up, I’m coming in and I’m going to rape you.”
Rape.
With one word, he managed to stop her from doing exactly what she wanted to do - hang up. He clearly just told her what the consequence would be. She was cornered with no foreseeable move. In her mind, she did a quick assessment of the situation. She was in her room. It was getting late and the sun was going down. She figured anyone could see in without the towel hung over the blinds. Had she locked the front door? The sliding glass door to her mother’s room? Was that locked? She couldn’t be sure.
“You didn’t hang up, did you?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t hang up. Understand?”
She had to keep him talking.
“Yes.”
She started to lower herself out of sight of the window, hoping to crawl out to the living room and check the door.
“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t do that. Stay where I can see you.”
Holy fuck. He could see her. That really shook her up.
Think. No one was home. Mom hadn’t been home on a Friday for months now.
“My mom is on her way home,” she lied to Mr. Green.
“You and I both know that’s not true,” he answered.
Not the response she was hoping for. He must know her mom. For the life of her, she couldn’t place his voice.
“Melody, sit down on your bed.”
Still buying time, she does. How did he take the control of her so swiftly, with no warning, over the freaking phone?
“Good,” he says when she lowers herself down, stiffly on the edge.
“You’re going to be just fine, as long as you do exactly what I say.”
She became very aware of her appearance.
Now she had an actual audience. Comeuppance for being so vain. Yet, with all the time spent on her appearance, she felt completely unprepared on how to handle this kind of attention. She touched her hair self-consciously.
“I liked that. Move your hair back off your face.”
Still thinking about what to do, she did.
“Can you lick your lips for me?”
Oh my God. Mortified, she hesitated for a moment and then ran her tongue over her lips.
“That’s good, Melody. Thank you. Now I want you to lift your pink top for me.”
Holy crap! He did not just say that. Christ, why did she choose to get high right now?
With one hand she slowly lifted her shirt as she sat up straight, showing her belly.
“All the way up, Melody. Keep going.”
Her mind racing, she imagined him watching her from somewhere outside her window and wondered what she must have looked like to him. What if someone else saw her bare her breasts for the world to see? Shit.
She lifted the bottom of her shirt until her arm was parallel to her shoulders, showing her breasts to Mr. Green, whoever the hell that was.
“Put your hand on your breast. Good. Can you squeeze your nipple for me. Oh good. That’s real good, Melody.”
Feeling completely stupid, she did as she was told.
She wondered how far he would take this.
“Stand up and turn to face the wall.”
Like a zombie, she does what he says.
“Good. Now lift up the back of your skirt.”
“No, I can’t,” she balked.
“You will,” he commanded, “or I am coming in.”
She stood there with her back facing him feeling like an animal at the zoo.
“Okay, it’s up to you.”
Quickly, she flips up the back of her skirt to show her ass.
She feels as naked and exposed as a baby seal trapped on an ice floe.
“Pull your panties down.”
Holy shit, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to keep this up. She had to try to make a run for it somehow.
She stood there readying herself for the big move. Without turning around, she hovered her thumb, ready to hang up the phone.
“Melody. Pull them down.”
She made the leap, pressed the button off, and made a mad dash to her mother’s room to make sure the sliding glass door was locked. Son of a bitch, the lever was up! Hastily, she shoved the lever down, hoping that the fucking lock had latched because nine times out of ten, you had to hold the door jammed up to the frame before the damn thing would hook into a locked position. Thinking the front door was opening, she ran to the living room and slammed her body into it with her full weight, frantically twisting the deadbolt into place. She stood there panting, with her back firmly against the door, hiding out of view. She could see the sliding glass door blinds from where she was and stood there for a long time, heart pounding, watching for signs of movement. Several times she thought she saw the long vertical blinds flicker as if someone was sliding the door open, but when she blinked and looked again, they were in the same position. Fucking pot. She sincerely wished she had not gotten high. She stood there listening for a long time. She began to feel hopeful that the coast was clear and Mr. Green had run off.
There was a timid knock. A knuckle wrap, but it sent a jolt of lightning into her heart. MISTER GREEN! She didn’t dare move. All she could hear was the pounding in her chest. After several moments of listening to the silence, she peeled her back off the door and peered out the peephole. She saw a familiar figure walking back to a black car that was parked in front of her apartment. A spike of hope shot into her brain and without hesitation she fumbled with the lock, cast it wide open and called out in implored relief, “Mr. Shear!”
“Oh Melody! So glad you are home!” He walked back up to the door, “I’ve been worried about you. You’ve missed your last three appointments. I thought a home visit would be in order. Sorry, I am so late, but I wanted to make sure I could meet with your mother as well.” He noticed her nervously looking all around. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.” She was honestly so relieved to see him, she didn’t worry that he was here to check up on her and her mother.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Please, come in.” She urgently waved him to come in the door.
Melody, I...Is your mother home?
“No, not yet.” She was peeking around from behind the door now.
“I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to come in without your mother’s permission.”
“She won’t care. Seriously. Please, come in. He might still be out here.”
He came in. She gestured to the couch.
“Who? Melody, what’s going on?”
She locked the door. He sat down and primly set his briefcase against the couch. “Are you in some kind of danger?”
She told him the condensed version in one long breath.
“I was in my room, I was actually getting high when my phone rang and I thought it was my mom calling from another phone or something so I answered only it was this guy pretending to know my mom and I got confused and then he told me that if I hung up the phone that he was going to come in here and, ...” the next word was hard for her to say out loud, “ ... RAPE me!”
The hysterical pitch of her rant ended with a gush of tears.
“Oh Melody.” She could tell he didn’t quite know what to say. He touched her shoulder awkwardly. “I can see that you are very upset and scared right now. I assure you, there is no one out there. I just pulled up and I didn’t see a single soul.”
“Are you sure?” she sniffled.
“Yes, positive. It was probably just a prank call meant to scare you.”
Could that be? She had never considered that possibility in the confusion of the moment. What if he was right and it was all just somebody’s idea of a sick joke at her expense.
She slowly calmed herself down, willing her heart to quit racing.
“You say he knew your mom?”
“I think so, yeah.” She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, smudging her dark eyeliner.
“Do you have any idea who it could have been?”
“No. He said his name was Mr. Green, but...I don’t know! It could have been anyone.” She was thinking of the neighbor guy she babysat for? Maybe one of the pseudo cult sweat lodge dudes?
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“I have a great idea. Maybe you could call the number back. It should still be on your phone, right?”
She thought about it for a second, “I could, but, oh my God! What if he answers?”
“Then you hand the phone to me. I’ll talk to this guy for you. We’ll just see what he has to say to a man,” he reassured her.
Hesitantly, she swiped her phone and searched it for a call back number.
“Are you sure?”
“I think it’s the right thing to do. What this man did was completely illegal and we should get as much information about him as we can before we call the authorities.”
“Okay.” Feeling much better now, she bravely pressed the call back button.
She heard the Bloo-Dee-Bloop and despite the protection of having an adult with her, she felt her heart start to race again. She gave him a look of frightened anticipation. It rang. She heard a little buzzing sound in the room.
“It’s ringing,” she told him.
It rang a second time and again she heard a buzzing. It was coming from the breast pocket of his blazer.
“No one is picking up.” It rang again and his jacket buzzed again. He was looking at her intently, ready to swoop in at any moment to rescue her.
Another ring. Finally, he looked down and touched his pocket where his phone was buzzing, clearly noticing the call. When he looked back up, she was perplexed by the odd, secretive look in his eyes.
The next time it rang, she inspected his chest, listening for vibrations. Again, the buzzing was synced with her phone.
“No answer.” She said nervously.
She decided to end the call. Eyebrows furrowed, she pushed the red icon and eyed his jacket. Nothing. Not one buzz.
If she had looked up at him, she would have seen that his expression of concern was now predatory. He greedily searched her innocent eyes waiting for the dawning of recognition.
And dawn on her, it finally did.
She stupidly held the phone to her ear, waiting for a different outcome.
The truth slammed into her like an oncoming bus, stealing her voice.
The silenced phone was the final confirmation of her predicament.
Realizing the scope of his deception, the color drained from her face. She was stunned, paralyzed with the impossible knowledge confronting her. She desperately tried to cling to the comforting warmth she felt, when just a split second ago, he had been her savior. It was undeniable. Without warning, the walls of her sanctuary curdled into the sour confines of a prison cell. She was trapped again, plunged back into the fire after a brief mirage of safety. She felt the panicky grip of claustrophobia now that she was cellmates with the monstrous impostor on the phone. She didn’t have to look at him to know what she would see. She felt him relishing the palpable fear and repugnant awareness of her new reality. She plummeted into a living nightmare, only able to make sounds in her mind. Without a word, he took the phone from her and placed it on the couch. Then he gently took her small hands in his and lightly stroked her fingers. She wanted to recoil, but fear had frozen her in place. She willed her legs to run, move, anything, but they refused to obey. Before she could recover, he reached down to his briefcase, popped open the latch so that the front cover flopped open, and picked up a length of rope from a coiled mess. To her escalating horror, she also saw a thin video camera and a retractable stand. The implications strangled her, and for a long torturous moment she could not suck any air into her lungs. She managed to utter an unintelligible gasping sound and tried to jerk her hand away, only to have him clamp his down harder.
“Shhh. Shhh,” he soothed.
The rope slithered around her wrists and he quickly tied a boy scout knot, tightly binding her hands together. Shit! Shit! She was desperately thinking of what she could do to bring the situation back into her control. Before she could act, he was kneeling in front of her and another length of rope was snaked around her ankles. Now even if she could run, her opportunity was lost forever.
He leaned in and nuzzled his head into her hair and neck and inhaled deeply. He worked his head up slowly and put his wet mouth on her ear and lightly nibbled her lobe. She felt the warmth of his breath, shivered deeply and pulled away. He took her face in both hands and lightly pulled her closer to his smoothly shaven face. She helplessly waited for her dumbfounded brain to wrap around this.
“You smell so good,” he whispered in her ear and then kissed her forehead and both cheeks. He put his lips on hers and his tongue invaded her mouth. He moaned and pulled back giving her little kisses on the lips, cooing to her.
“You taste sweet. I knew you would. I want you so bad. We can finally be together.” What? She just could not comprehend. Was this the same man? She could smell his familiar cologne. He took off his glasses and without the wire rims to frame his eyes, the pale blueness got lost in the blond lashes and brows. He put his lips on hers again.
Keeping his eyes closed he asked, “Why won’t you kiss me back? I want you to kiss me back.”
Finally, she found her voice and whispered, “Please, Mr. Shear. I don’t want to do this.”
He stopped and a look of genuine hurt crossed his face, something like that of a wounded puppy.
“I was afraid you would say that.” He responded pitifully. She actually felt a stab of guilt for hurting his feelings.
He professed, “You are my one and only true love. I’ve waited my whole life for you. You don’t even know how special you are. I can show you how special you are. I promise, you’ll be happy with me.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Can you please be my good girl and kiss me back?”
His smile creeped her out the most. It was the same smile that greeted her into his office so many times before.
“Be my good little girl.” He gently kissed her mouth. “Please.” He held his kiss a little longer. “Just open your mouth up a little bit,” he coaxed. He pushed his tongue into her parted lips. He grabbed her head a little harder, his voice a little sterner, “Come on, now. You can do it.” Not knowing what to make of it, she did. It’s not like she hadn’t thought of what it would have been like to kiss him in his office, but this was not anything she had seen coming. It wasn’t so fun thinking about how much he wanted her now. She relaxed her mouth and tilted her chin up and willed her tongue to respond to his. Repulsively, he tasted as fresh as he smelled. He slowly pulled her to a standing position, and swiftly led her hands down between his legs, pushing his erection underneath his pleated khakis against her two tiny, bound hands. He firmly held them over his groin, the other hand on the back of her head, kissing her deeply. Anyone watching would think they were passionate lovers, reunited. She would have tipped over had he not been holding her so tightly. She was appalled by his erection. She did not want to know what kissing him felt like, that he tasted clean, that his penis felt warm and hard under his pants. She never wanted to know those things about him. Had she? In his twisted mind, she had given him every clue that she did want this. This was never, ever, what she had in mind. Maybe she could reason with him. Would he even care how she felt about it? He stopped kissing her and sweetly wiped her mouth with his thumb and gazed longingly into her frightened eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile.
“Everything is going to be all right, I promise.”
He bent down and closed his briefcase. He held it in one hand and scooped her up like a child. He carried her to her darkened bedroom, entering the doorway as if crossing over a threshold and laid her down on top of her unmade, twin-sized bed.
“I like your little, green, flippy skirt.” He said, as if it were a compliment and went about flipping the switch for the overhead lights. He clicked the floor lamp until the three bendable spotlights were at their brightest setting, made sure all three were pointed directly at her, and started fumbling with the camera stand. After setting up the tripod, he twisted the camera on top of it, whistling a merry tune the whole time. He stood in front of the bed and adjusted the screen, making sure he had a full view. She glanced up at the screen and was amazed to see the small image of herself, all dark and grainy, tied up, with this man standing in front of her. It was as if she was having a surreal dream about this happening to someone else. How did she get herself into this? Maybe she could tell him flat out how she felt about this. Maybe that would put a stop to it.
“Mr. Shear, you are really scaring me right now. I really don’t want to do this.”
He climbed in bed next to her and propped himself up on his elbow, close to her body, as if they were a couple.
“You don’t have to DO anything, love. I’ll take care of you.”
She thought maybe she could bargain with him.
“Couldn’t we...wait? I mean, what if people found out?
He looked confused.
“What do you mean? Why would people find out?” He ran a finger along her cheek.
She continued, “I mean... What if, someone asks me?”
“That’s not going to happen. If you’re worried about it, then if people ask, we’ll just tell them the truth. We fell in love and had to be together. I’ll get a divorce. I want a divorce. You are just the light I need to guide me out of the darkness.” He leaned in and tried kissing her again.
“Maybe you could untie me.”
He gazed into her eyes and stroked her hair.
“I can’t, baby. I know you don’t know what’s happening right now and I get that. When you understand what this is, then it will all make sense. You just have to trust me.”
He sounded rational. Like he was thinking clearly. He made sense. If you discounted the fact that he had scared the living shit out of her and had her tied up in her bedroom.
Maybe she could convince him that she would agree with this if it were under different circumstances.
She fixed him with an open honest look. “I think it’s obvious that we have feelings for each other. Couldn’t we wait until you get your divorce and that way we could do this the right way?”
“This is the right way. It’s the only way. If we wait, then I risk the chance of losing you after graduation.”
With a last desperate attempt to deter him she blurted out, “I’ll tell, Harry. I’ll tell everyone what you’ve done.”
There was that hurt puppy look again. “What have I done that you haven’t done? You’ve known all along how I feel about you! You can’t tell me that you don’t have the same feelings for me! Am I right? Am I right about you?”
Betraying him, she retorted, “No! You’re wrong about me!”
“Your actions say something different, Melody. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself.”
“My actions are that I haven’t seen you in three weeks.”
“Out of guilt, don’t you see that? We don’t have to feel guilty anymore. We can make this right.”
“Mr. Shear ... Harry, this is not right!” she pleaded.
“It is right, Melody. Being with you is the rightest thing I have ever felt. Right now, all you have to do is trust me. I know what’s best for both of us.” He watched her face for a moment. “Come on, now. Let me see that beautiful smile.” He touched under her chin. “Someday we’re going to laugh about all of this.”
In this moment, she knew she was trapped. He had pretended to be Mr. Green and had enjoyed scaring her. He tricked her into letting him into her apartment. He exposed his true nature to her. This was crazy; HE was crazy. She couldn’t see how to persuade him to let her go. He wasn’t open to reason. He didn’t need her consent. The only way through this was to try to make him believe that she was in love with him, too. The thought turned her stomach. She was going to have to make this the most truthful deception of her young life. Hiding her revulsion, she smiled.
Then he got a giddy expression.
“Now let’s concentrate on making our own movie. I know you’re going to like it.” He stroked her arm. “All the girls I’ve watched on the computer seem to really enjoy the men.” He leaned in and smelled her hair. “I’ll apologize in advance because I’ve never had the chance to try any of it in real life. Until now.” He broke out in a stupid grin. “I’ll do my best for you.”
He began exploring her body with his hands. He touched her legs and adjusted her skirt down, smoothing it over her hips. He followed the inverse curve to her tiny waist and pushed his thumb under her pink top. He was looking at her chest and ran a finger over the flesh that was exposed by the scalloped collar. He pushed her top all the way up and covered her breast with his soft hand, kissing her face, neck, and shoulders. He eagerly scooted his body down and started rubbing his face all over her breasts. He started moaning, kissing and licking her nipples, making embarrassingly loud sucking noises with his mouth as if he was face deep in a pot of gumbo. She couldn’t help but squirm under him because it tickled so badly.
“Oh, you like that baby?”
No, you dumb ass!
He pushed her tied hands over her head and climbed on top of her so he could grind his hips into her. He was pushing on her, making so much noise that she got the idea that maybe she could make him come like this and he’d leave. She raised her hips up to meet his pushes and he groaned even louder. It was a no go. He stopped and practically leapt to his knees and then got out of bed. He feverishly took off his jacket and draped it over her desk chair. He unbuttoned his shirt and undid his pants, kicking off his loafers. He stood before her in his loose tented boxers and black crew socks, smiling like a jackass. He bent over to pull off his socks, and finally stepped out of his shorts, freeing his erect penis and it swung over to one side. He spread out his hands as if to say TA-DA. She was struck by the humor and she let out a snort. The moment quickly passed when she understood his next move. He moved to the side of the bed, breathing heavily and helped her up to a sitting position. He adjusted the camera so he could see his penis up close.
“Can you lean your head in a little?” He was still looking at the camera screen and watched it as he pulled her head into the shot. She could feel the velvety smoothness of his penis with her cheek.
“Oh! Right there. That’s perfect.” He looked at her expectantly. She stared up at him with her made up eyes.
“Can you put your tongue on it?”
No, she wanted to answer.
Instead, she licked him. Like the rest of him, it was clean. She reached up and steadied it with her fingers. She licked him from top to bottom, all around the tip and finally slipped it inside her mouth. She could not get past the strange fact that she had Mr. Shear’s dick in her mouth. Again, she thought that maybe if she could get him to come like this, he would leave. She tried to pretend she wanted this, like she enjoyed giving him pleasure. He got carried away watching himself on camera. He grabbed the sides of her head and started pushing aggressively into her mouth. This was new to her and it was her turn to make noise. With every thrust down her throat she became more alarmed, her protests ignored. She thought that maybe he was going to come. She opened up a little wider and grabbed his penis a little harder. Nope. He stepped back. Damn it!
“Oh! This is great! You are amazing! I knew you would be!”
She didn’t know whether to feel proud or ashamed.
He pushed her back onto the bed and pulled her around sideways by her bound feet. He leaned over the bed and came up with some more white rope from his briefcase. He pulled her legs over to the bedpost and tied one of her legs to it. Then he untied her ankles, pulled her white lacy panties off of one leg and then tied it to the opposite post.
Alarmed, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. You are going to love this.” He lifted her green skirt up and told her she looked beautiful. He did the same tying procedure with her arms and then stood back to admire his doll spread eagle on the bed. He changed the angle of the camera to face them.
He crawled on top of her and pressed his naked body down. She was instantly warmed by the contact. He slipped his hands beneath her arms and held her in a full body wrap, wiggling around with his penis dangerously close to her vagina. She was uncomfortable like this and it was difficult for her to take the weight of his body. He was between her legs but she couldn’t lift them. It was going to hurt like hell if he tried to shove his dick into her with her hips angling downward like this.
Fucking idiot, she thought to herself.
Then he tried it and yup, it hurt.
“Stop!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t move!”
He gave her a devious look. “I know. It’s so hot,” and plunged into her the rest of the way.
Oh, fucking asshole!
She tried spreading her legs and lifting them up to alleviate the pressure on her back but she was tied down too tightly. He was overwhelmed with the sensations and spewed forth a steady stream of profanity, commenting on how amazing it felt. She endured his onslaught of thrusting and grunting, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, willing him to come. Her arms were tingling and the ropes were digging into her ankles. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Please, Mr. Shear, STOP!”
“Why aren’t you coming?” He was frustrated to have to stop.
In her mind, she screamed at him. What the fuck are you talking about?
“I just really need to put my legs up. Can you please untie my legs? And my arms are falling asleep!”
She could tell by his face that he was kind of annoyed with her.
Sounding like a whiny kid he responded, “Let’s just try something else then.”
He was sweaty and breathing hard as he untied her legs, letting out an exasperated sigh. He moved to the top and tried untying the knot of the rope holding one of her arms to the bed. It wouldn’t come off and he proceeded to throw a mini, high-pitched tantrum as he tried to get it loose. After a long battle, he managed to get both of her arms untied from the bed. Relieved, she pulled them in close to her chest, only to have him bind them together once more.
“Okay, lets try again,” he whispered.
Why don’t you just give up and get the fuck out of here?
No such luck.
He turned her all the way over on her stomach and started massaging her butt and thighs. He pushed her legs apart and started touching her between her legs. Feeling his bumbling fingers poking around on her sore vagina was not pleasurable at all. She tried to squirm away.
He chuckled and said, “I found a sweet spot, didn’t I? Oh, you are a naughty little girl.”
Jesus Christ, she wanted to kick him in the face. In an instant, he was on her ass, rubbing his semi-soft dick all over it, trying to get back to a full hard-on. It didn’t take long for him to get there and she started to panic by the thought of him trying to shove his way into her from this position. He would break her back, she thought.
“Maybe I could raise up?” she suggested.
“Oh, God, you are so hot!” He enthusiastically pulled her hips up so she was on her knees and she could feel him pushing the tip of his dick around like a heat seeking missal, missing its mark. He was getting frustrated again because he couldn’t find the opening. He kept trying to shove his way into the space between her asshole and vagina. She kept her head down and rolled her eyes. That’s not it, she said to herself, not intent on helping him at all. Then, thinking he found the entrance, he started pushing into her ass. Instinctively, she quickly shoved her hips up and out and he slipped into her vagina with a force so shocking that it caused her to suck in a good amount of air and cry out.
That just about sent him over the edge and he started fucking her like a racehorse.
He watched himself on the camera. “Oh, baby you should see yourself. You look so good.”
It was all she could do to keep herself up on her knees. He was sure to come any minute and she concentrated on not falling over as he hit her uterus repeatedly. The camera showed her clutching her purple sheets, her face in a permanent grimace. Come on, mother fucker.
“Did you come?” he called out desperately.
“Yes! Yes, I came!” she shouted, realizing that he was waiting for her.
He stopped, out of breath and said, “Oh good, I don’t know how long
I could have kept that up!”
He pulled out quickly and she cringed because her vagina sucked in a great gulp of air. She shoved her hips down to the bed and rolled over on her side. For fuck sake! She heard the embarrassing sounds coming from her as the air escaped. She laid there, with her face buried in her mattress.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said soothingly. “I’m so glad you came!”
Go away. Go away. Go away.
“My turn,” he said in a sing song way.
He flipped her over and set about tying her legs to her arms. After about five long minutes, she was on her back, rolled up in a tight ball, completely exposed. He did not seem to be aware of her anymore. She looked over at him pleadingly and saw him standing above her, enjoying her visually. She closed her eyes and tried to disappear. She waited for him to climb on top of her and finish, but he didn’t. She knew he was still there because she could hear him stroking himself and breathing hard. She kept her eyes closed. After a moment, she felt the bed move as he kneeled in front of her. A shockingly cold glop of liquid dripped over her spread vagina. Her eyes shot open and she saw him rubbing slippery stuff all over himself. He reached down and gently slipped his fingers over her lips and clit. She jumped at his touch. He had himself in one hand and used his other hand to massage her sensitive vagina. She closed her eyes again and was unable to stop the sensations he was making her feel.
“Just relax. You look amazing,” he complimented her. After the frenzy she had just endured, the slow pace was a welcomed change. He leaned over and slowly entered her. This position was intense and she tried to brace her body, but she couldn’t. All she could do was take him in. She looked up into the small screen of the camera and saw her tiny head peeking out from under his shoulders. Her legs were secured up in the air and she noticed how the bed was bouncing rhythmically on camera. She watched, transfixed on the image she saw. Each thrust matched the deep penetration she was experiencing. She found it fascinating that she could feel what was happening to the girl on the screen. She became focused on the image of the helpless girl being greedily devoured by lust and desire. She got seriously wet. It became unbelievably pleasurable, feeling his hard penis harpooning her between her wide open legs. No fucking way! He was going to make her come, sure as shit. She couldn’t help it. She started to grab for his penis with contractions and he just about lost it.
“Tell me you want me!”
She let out a little whimper and he moaned, “You want me, don’t you? Say it.”
She started to come.
Say it! She knew she had to get him to come, too.
“I want you! I want you!”
He thrust steadily into her and with one last push, he groaned low and loud as he came into her. He was completely out of breath, his body twitching, calling out to the lord over and over. He collapsed onto her, blubbering about how incredible it was. The buzzing in her ears started to grow fainter and she suddenly felt cold and wet. The ropes were too tight, making her hands tingle. Her legs were aching and begging to come together. He laid on top of her with all of his weight; she could hardly speak.
“Untie me!” she demanded.
“Oh, my god. That was ... that was ...” he babbled on.
“Hurry!”
In a daze, he staggered to a kneeling position and started working on the ropes.
“That was out of this world,” he complimented her.
When she was free, she pulled her legs in, kicking him out of the way and rolled up into a fetal position.
He spooned up behind her, propped up on one elbow and pushed her hair away from her face.
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t say anything. He climbed over her, attended to the camera, repacked his briefcase and started getting dressed in silence. She peeked up at him through her arms covering her face. He carefully held up his boxers and pulled them over his nakedness. He concentrated on balancing while he got his socks back on. He was completely engrossed in his getting dressed routine. He quietly buttoned up his shirt, making sure the buttons were aligned from the bottom. He tucked it into his trousers once he had pulled them up. He pulled the collar out from under his tweed jacket and he looked completely benign again.
She closed her eyes and wished him away.
He sat down on the bed next to her and took her hand.
“Melody, I need to know that you are good.”
She realized that her performance wasn’t quite over.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m fine.” She smiled up at him.
“You were everything I thought you’d be. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me. I have never felt so strongly about someone.”
“Me too.”
He sat next to her for a few minutes.
“Come on. Up you go. I need to get home before my wife starts to suspect something.”
He picked up his briefcase, pulled her up and kept hold of her hand as they walked to the living room. He went over to the couch and put his glasses back on and picked up her phone.
Fiddling with it, he said, “I’m going to put fifteen minutes on the timer on both of our phones. When fifteen minutes are up, I will be expecting a call from you to let me know you are okay. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming back. Understand? I need to know that you are fine.”
“I am fine. Don’t worry. You were right. That was really fun.”
She gave him another winning smile. He smiled back and then put fifteen minutes on his phone. He leaned in to kiss her good-bye. She almost pulled back, but managed to stay open. She kissed him on the lips.
“Okay, my love. Ready?” He held his phone and gave her hers. “On the count of three. One, two, three.”
They both pushed the timers on their phones and he opened the door to leave. He gave one more awkward wave and then his pasty face finally disappeared as the door closed, the latch making a soft click. She slowly reached for the knob. Carefully, she silently turned the lock tab on the handle. When it was vertical, a small sense of relief came over her, quickly followed by a sense of urgency. She stood listening for his car to pull away and soon the sound of the motor vanished, taking him with it. She darted for the sliding glass door and shoved the wooden rod down that was leaning against the wall into the door frame, guaranteeing that no one could open it. Back to the living room she fumbled with the knotted tangle of string and closed the curtains, finally encapsulating herself into a safe, dimly lit, hideaway.
She sat on the couch and took inventory. She was sore and cold, had some minor rope burns, but she was still in tact. She could see herself in the marbled mirror tiles that lined the wall opposite of her. She looked like the same person. She wondered, as she stared at herself, if anyone would be able to tell what had just happened.
She looked at her phone, the timer ticking down. It had already been five minutes. She should call 911, but what would she say? She’d have to explain their relationship. What if they blamed her? Why didn’t she run? Fight? How was that nonconsensual? She couldn’t explain that she was used to hiding from reality and covering up untidy truths. That was how she survived in the world. She was thoroughly confused by the phenomenon that she actually came. She couldn’t even begin to explain that one. What about his career, his marriage? Wasn’t there enough damage done already? Wasn’t she partly to blame? How big of a part did she play in this whole mess? Sitting alone she felt thoroughly mortified by what she had just done, but she knew she could count on further humiliation when everyone at school found out, including all the dirty little details. Not only would she ruin his life, she would ruin hers, in a very shameful, public way.
On the other hand, she could do what he’d told her to and call him. That way, she could figure this out later. She had already come this far. It would be more than doable to walk into school on Monday, pretending that none of this happened. That was a very tempting alternative to dropping a bomb that would annialate her own world.
She sat alone, phone in hand, thoughts swirling in her head. She imagined calling him right on time, appeasing his fears that she might betray him, prolonging the deception she had so expertly weaved. It wouldn’t be hard to keep him strung along until she could figure out how to handle this, however long that might be.
For eight more minutes she contemplated her fate. Finally, she did what she felt she had to do and dialed the number. Her pale face was pinched up as if she could taste the bitter task ahead of her. She listened to it ring with her phone to her ear. No one picked up after the first ring and she pictured his phone buzzing in his jacket...she could still hang up.
Second ring...what would she say?
After the third ring, with exactly two minutes on the clock, she heard the familiar pop as the call was answered:
“911, what’s your emergency?”
She cleared her throat, readying her voice.
