He wraps the rope around my wrists,
knots it tightly. Escape-proof.
I shake my head. “Don’t.” But he does.
Should I scream? Would anyone hear?
Would anyone care? The obvious
answer softens my plea. “Please?”
Haven’t you played this game
before? I guess I’ll have to teach
you the rules. The proper response
would be, “Please, sir.” Say it.
My heart yells, “No fucking
way.” But my brain, the part
that understands my daddy, makes
me acquiesce. “Please, sir.”
He flips me onto my belly, yanks
my legs apart. I don’t have to see
the restraints to know they’re there.
The ankle knots do not surprise me.
I am helpless. Exposed. And, strangely,
somehow I feel at home this way.
Say it, he demands, like I should know
he means, Please, sir. Punish me.
Deliberate, controlled, he punishes me.
I whisper into the pillow, “I understand.”
I Understand
Why Kaeleigh liked the feel of
slicing her flesh, releasing
bottled-up hurt. Leather snaps
against my skin, and I remain
still
as stagnant water, afraid I might
not play by his rules. This is
a new game, and the sick
thing is, I see quickly that I
like
it, might ask to play again.
The pain is fuzzy at the edges,
blurring toward pleasure.
Maybe it’s the hash,
the gentle
arms of opium. And now
new leather—human, Ty—
falls softly over the heated
welts, a soothing
balm of
sweat-beaded skin. But then
heightened pain, forced inside
me, stuffed inside me. Seared,
branded, likely marked,
a moan
escapes me and Ty surges.
After, knots loosened, a rub
of cool eucalyptus oil persuades
me I do want to play again. Soon.
Kaeleigh
Long Night
Unable to slip into sleep,
unable to fall into dreams,
unable to lie completely
still,
snared by tangled thoughts.
Sometimes, usually well after
the witching hour, Raeanne
comes to me, shares my bed
like
she did so long ago. She
listens to me, soundlessly,
doesn’t argue or judge.
Eventually, I slip into
the gentle
tide of unconsciousness. But
tonight she doesn’t appear.
I am left to wrestle memories
alone, comforted only by the
balm of
cool satin sheets. I force
my body to relax, feel it grow
heavy. Heavy enough to sink
into the satin balm.
A moan
bubbles into my mouth,
from I don’t know where—
some inconceivable place where
pleasure and joy are one.
Not Sure Exactly When
I managed to fall asleep,
but it must have been eventually
because I’m tugged like cement
into morning by the sound
of the telephone.
Daddy’s feet pound
toward the ringing.
Hello…? Hello…?
Okay, who the fuck is this?
Funny, I hardly ever hear
Daddy curse. He must be
really pissed. The thought
is confirmed by his footfall,
in angry approach of my door.
He bursts through and fear
swallows me down. Do
you have any idea who’s
responsible for these hang-ups?
One thought immediately
crosses my mind, but I’ll be
damned if I want to get caught
in the middle of the brewing
storm. “No. Should I?”
He softens, but only a little.
I thought maybe it was one
of your friends. Or… white
glare …a boyfriend?
Like I would ever let a boy
call here! Like I would dare
say that. “None of my friends
would do that, Daddy. And I
don’t have a boyfriend.”
Well…it’s just that this has been
happening for several days. I
answer, click. Maybe it’s one
of your mom’s secret admirers.
“Mom’s admirers aren’t so
secret, Daddy. It’s probably
just a solicitor or something.
Anyway, doesn’t the number
show up on caller ID?”
Now why didn’t I think of that?
His voice fairly sprays sarcasm.
It’s a private number. Hurry
it up now, or you’ll be late.
The Clock Agrees
I’m supposed to meet Brittany
in twenty minutes. Still, I just
can’t seem to “hurry it up.”
Mostly because he told me to.
I slide out of bed, shuffle
to the bathroom, do my thing.
Brush my teeth and hair.
By the time I return to my
room in search of clothes,
Daddy is hustling toward
the door. Come straight
home after work. Hear me?
Like where else would I go?
But, of course, despite
the serious resentment
that blooms immediately,
I say simply, “Okay.”
He is all the way into the garage
before calling over his shoulder,
And don’t answer the phone.
Do This, Don’t Do That
I seriously despise the man, would do just
about anything not to obey him, at
least if I thought I could get
away with it or even that
the sure consequences
would be sufferable.
But when Daddy
decides to make
you suffer,
it’s more
than any
one can
bear.
But He’s Gone Now
So I’m going to do the likely
less than intelligent thing and
dress exactly how I want. Not
hippie today. Frumpy? Slutty?
Hey, maybe no clothes at all?
Probably not a good plan.
Who knows if Brittany’s silver
bomber can even make it to
school without breaking down?
Speaking of that, she’ll be here
soon. Better shake my tail.
Where did that saying come
from, anyway? I slide into
a glam velour jogging suit. Not
frumpy. Not slutty. Just soft
and definitely not an outfit
Daddy would want me to
wear to school. Too casual.
(Although, really not casual
enough for a decent jog.)
Out the door, into the cold
morning, I’m glad I’m wearing
sweats, if you can really call
glam velour sweats. Up the
sidewalk, to the corner where
I’m supposed to meet Brittany.
(Wasn’t sure Daddy would
approve of that, either, should
he have been home to see me
climb into a half-dilapidated
Toyota.) Hey, maybe I defied
him twice in one morning.
Wouldn’t that be a coup?
As I wait for Brittany (late,
go figure!), my mind wraps
around that “shake my tail”
thing. Some deep place inside
my brain latches onto it and
doesn’t want to let go. Where
did I hear that? The voice I
don’t quite remember is low.
Feminine. Not Mom’s, though.
Too scratchy. So whose?
Brittany, Finally
And she’s not alone. Riding
shotgun is Joel, who I know
from drama. And in the back-
seat, next to my apparently
appointed place, is Shaun.
Ian’s little brother. Great.
Not that he’s not a nice kid,
but sitting back there next
to him seems somehow
incestuous. Oh, well. It’s
just a ride to school, right?
Oh, hey, coos Brittany. Sorry
I’m late, but I had to pick up
the guys. Joel was right on
time, but Shaun? She giggles.
Oh, yech. Maybe Brittany
as transportation won’t work
out so well after all. But
one day won’t hurt, right?
Anyway, the bus already
went by. My choices are
limited. “No problem.”
Not Being Top
Of the hour, the radio blares.
Hip-hop, no less. Definitely
not my cup of tea, but hey,
it’s not my freaking radio.
Joel seems to like it. He jerks
his head back and forth till
he looks like a bobblehead
with a really loose spring.
Beside me, Shaun stretches
his legs till his right knee rests
against my left, totally creeping
me out. Awesome song, huh?
I jerk my knee away from his.
“Uh, sure.” If you like songs
without music. More like ebonic
poetry. Before I finish the thought,
Shaun’s leg has found its way
back to mine. “Need more room?”
Warmer like this, don’t you
think? Here comes his arm.
I turn and give him my most
evil glare. “What are you doing?”
Nothing. His arm withdraws, but
only a little. Thought you’d like it.
Irritation flares, red in my face.
“Oh, really? And why is that?”
He shrugs. Heard Ian talking.
He said you’re into other guys.
Irritation fans into anger. “Is
that so? Well, you can just tell
your brother for me that I am
most certainly not into other—”
A sudden thwunk-thwunk-thwunk
interrupts the conversation.
The Toyota yanks itself hard to
the right and Brittany fights
to stay in control. Oh, man!
I think we’ve got a flat tire.
Flat Barely Describes It
The entire sidewall is gone, what’s
left of the tread part, shredded.
We’re not going anywhere, not on
this tire. “Do you have a spare?”
I dunno, but even if I do, I have
no idea how to change it. Do
you guys? She looks at the boys,
who shake their heads in unison.
We’re already late for school.
Not much we can do but be
later. “Okay, then. Do you have
like AAA or something?”
I dunno. Oh, wait. My mom
showed me a number to call.
It goes with our cell service.
She leans into the car.
As she roots through the glove
box, I notice cars slowing a bit
as they drive by. Something
about four late-for-school kids,
looking helpless as hell
beside a useless car, barely
pulled onto the shoulder?
Could be it, I guess.
Then again, you might
think one of them would
stop and offer to help.
But no, they cruise on by.
Here it is! says Brittany,
punching at her cell phone.
Hi. Um. I guess I need help…
er…roadside assistance?
If she giggles one more
time, I’m going to push
her out into oncoming
traffic. We stand, stupid
as hell, waiting for a tow
truck. My teeth chatter,
and Shaun dares to move
closer. Really, really close.
Once again, his arm tries
to slide around my shoulder,
and I shrink from the touch
of his calloused skin. “No.”
What is your fucking problem?
I’m just trying to keep you
warm. Oh, that’s right.
You prefer being frigid.
His Term or Ian’s?
It’s going to bug me all day.
I always thought Ian was on
my side, that he understood,
if not everything, that I am only
lukewarm because I’m damaged.
Frigid? Maybe I am. But why
should it even be a topic
of conversation with Shaun?
Did Ian call me that? And did
he really say I’m into other guys?
Who did he say it to? And why?
Wait…a sudden “aha” strikes.
Madison. Would she have told
him such a thing, sunk so low?
And why would he believe her?
A stronger person would go
straight to the source, confront
him, ask if any of the things
his little brother had to say
could possibly be true.
But I could never do that.
What if I just couldn’t stand
to hear what he had to say?
What if he walked away?
What if I lost him completely?
The Tow Truck Finally Arrives
And I still don’t have any
answers, despite a good forty
minutes, standing here with
nothing else to do but
think.
Shaun finally gave up on me
and moved on to Brittany,
who’s obviously into Joel.
Shaun is a total clod.
How
can he be Ian’s brother?
They’re about the same as
straight sex and gay sex—
some similarities, but
different
in ways that really count.
One thing I do know is that
if Ian deserts me, I’ll never
repair the giant rip in my
life.
I don’t dare let him go.
But how do I keep him
without losing me?
Who knew love
could be
such an enigma?
Raeanne
Life Is Rarely Dull
At the Gardella house.
Kaeleigh was late for school
this morning. Now you might not
think
that should be a big problem,
especially considering she had
what for most would be a good
excuse. But that’s not
how
things work around here. See,
one of Daddy’s friends happened
 
; to drive by the tow truck scene
and notice Kaeleigh. A
different
person might have shrugged
it off completely. Not Hannah,
a nursing student who lives
down the block. I cannot for the
life
of me understand why she felt
the need to call Daddy, but she
did. No surprise it made him
mad. But who knew he
could be
so unreasonable over such
an innocent faux pas?
Kaeleigh Came Home from School
Not particularly worried about the tardy.
Neither Daddy nor Mom (on those rare
occasions she’s around to peruse progress
reports) pays particular notice to stuff
sent home from school. Besides, it was
Kaeleigh’s first tardy. Ever. No big deal.
Not, that is, until she played Daddy’s
message, left both on her cell phone
and on the answering machine at home.
I heard you missed school today in favor
of taking a little joyride with a few friends.
I’m surprised at you. Surprised, and
disappointed. I’d better see you at home
when I get there. You have some explaining to do.
And then you have to decide what your
punishment will be. Make no mistake.
You will be punished. When I ask what
you think is fair, I hope you have an answer.
By the time he was finished, she was shaking.
I tried to tell her not to worry, that he’d cool