Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Out of Control

“She is out of control. She’s been going down town and picking up men randomly for sex,” he said, quite hysterical
“Is she using a condom?” Raven replied
“How can you ask that. She’s married to one of the most important men of our time. This could be a public relations nightmare.”
“It could be a whole lot worse if he and she both die of Aids. Or word gets out she has syphillis They don’t call it the English Disease or the French disease any more. People know how STD’s spreads.” Raven answered, looking at her long painted nails. She’d chosen red polish with tiny black roses.
“Do you think she’s infected now? Do we have to get her tested.? Will she listen to reason.’ He was shuffling papers feigning to look for something. It’s what he did when he was anxious. He was very anxious now.  His job depended on the present regimen. There was never any security but he’d just invested in some offshore property. He had commitments. He didn’t need her acting like some teen age girl who’d had her first orgasm.

She was very beautiful. Exotic in the manner of tall willowy black haired women.  She knew men desired her. She had known since her father climbed into bed with her and she felt that pain and his covering her mouth as she tried to scream. Her mother was angry at her in the morning. But her father had told her after that she was his number one. Her mother made her clean her own laundry. But she stared down at her mother after that. Shameless. She knew.

Her father then came into her room night after night. There was only a little more pain. She began enjoying the attention anticipating his coming.  Learning from him what he liked.  She moved her hips and her tongue danced.  “You’re so much better than your mother, ‘ he told her.  She liked that until she saw her mother crying in the morning.

She would cry scant years later when her younger sister became her age. Her father never came to her bad after that.

She’d learned her power. She watched other women, how they walked, how they held themselves. She practiced on the boys at school but they were children.  Her teachers were a bit more interesting.  Her mother had taken her to her own doctor. She’d begun the birth control pill. Every culture knows about in breeding. Until the Pill and IUD all cultures had were taboos. 

 Her mother become more her friend and sister . She stopped being mean to her.  She was still a little girl. Her sister now was old before her time.

At college she was in control. She rode her policy professor like a little donkey. 

“Men are so easily pleased’, she thought, smiling to hersel. They’re useful too.

She wanted so much now. She had fine clothing and a fancy car. Her own car. A little Fiat.  Her father had bought it for her.  She’d used it to fuck the professor in the back seat, not caring he found it cramped, having to open the door, risking being caught,  that first night , in the park.  

She liked the feel of men between her thighs.  She didn’t always orgasm.  She liked them serving her..She really wanted  servants. 

“I’d prefer slaves,” she’d laugh to herself. A master of pc, she to keep that thought to herself. 

When she had her degrees she got a job that came with her own staff.  She was quite the bitch.  Behind her back they called her names. What did she care. She was smart and elegant. Men wanted her. Women too. Her boss was a woman who introduced her to a whole different world, More rough in some ways, more tender in others.

It was after that she got into politics.  She liked to dress up and talk with powerful men and women.  Raised in the family she was ,with the associations of her father and the relatives of her mother, she’d a certain ease of relationship with people of what was once referred to as “class.”  Her group was a classless society now.  It would be a terrible faux pas if she were to let that word slip at some party.  Class was one of the many new “banned” words. They all knew  there were things that they didn’t say. 

Whwn one of the others was among them they made it seem as if he or she was like them. Outsiders didn’t know.  The atmosphere just changed when they were gone. She and her former boss would love to laugh  and gossip. They didn’t share a bed so much anymore but when they touched there still electricity. The bedroom door wasn’t closed. They had both just expanded their range..  At the spa naked together in the steam room just a towel between them they’d talk of lust and lovers.  When they having they would talk of politics without names. They had demeaning nicknames for all the players.. They were very careful not to let anything slip from their adventures in the board room. But beneath the sheets, that was different.  It was also knowledge.  Knowing a person’s particular whims in private gave one a certain power.  Only the inner circle shared this knowledge.  Knowledge was power.

She saw him first.  He was acting silly with his mates. She’d not have paid him any attention except for his name.  He was cute too in a girlish sort of way.  Not strong like her father.  Boyish and sweet when she got to know him.  So insecure.  Right from the start he let her use him.  Their engagement followed not long after.  She was getting too old to be single. Twenty six.The married men were beginning to consider as mistress material.  She needed her own fiefdom. 

She wasnted to compete in these domains.  She’d thought of being a concubine but she saw early the power of religion especially to the other women. She didn’t believe in any of the nonsense but the forms were pretty. She liked the rituals. She felt something when she practiced especially with the women, some of whom she’d known outside the place of worship.

Now married it followed she would have children. She stopped the pill. Her mother and sisters were close to her. Together they shared everything.  Her mother was even friends with her former lover now. She was even a bit jealous. They talked of shoes though. There was no doubt  they each coveted what the other had.

She remembered her first 4 inch heels, how she’d had such difficulty walking in them. The sales girl said, “Honey they’re not for walking. If you’re walking in those beauties you’re definitely doing something wrong.”

When they came, she liked her children.A girl and a boy.   She didn’t know if she would have, were it not for her nannies. She enjoyed best when her sisters came over. They had children of their own.  She, her mother and they would drink  wine and some  smoked hashish. Her mother preferred opium. The nannies prepared the little ones for naps and fed them.  She began drinking a bit more.  Shiraz was her favourite.

Those days her husband was sleeping with his secretary . A little blond who was too coarse to keep him interested too long. She was everything she wasn’t.  Her mother had been the first to notice the  change in him. She tried to warn her.  No one would say they  plotted but the women  did discuss it at length. In their circle it wasn’t approved of but men were pigs. It was only considered acceptable if he was discrete.  It was obvious that’s what he wanted. They were not sure about her.  

A friend of her sisters took the time to talk to her about discretion. The girl was quite shocked to be confronted by this powerful woman . The woman explained to her the rules as if she was a school girl.  It really was all about class but no one would call it that. After that the affair didn’t last much longer. All the sauciness had gone out of the girl when she understood the  larger picture.

This wasn’t about individuals. In her mind she’d been competing with the wife. The  wife was alone in her mind. That just wasn’t alone. The wife was part of a coven. A nest.   A crèche situations.  Even the man didn’t know how many were involved in the fabric of this thing.  

“You’ve had  a bit much, don’t you think dear,” he said to her that first night after the secretary quit. He’d used her for his pleasure, the first time in months,  a moment of desperate manliness. He’d not even bothered to wait for the bed. In the garage he’d pinned her to the wall,  pulled down her black lace panties, staying behind her,  pinning her with one arm against something metal.  She’d felt dirty. She even worried a bit about her crimson gown getting soiled. There was no pleasure for her. She was just a convenient receptacle. He didn’t take long.  She brushed her skirt down, picked up the panties from the cement floor and followed him into the house. She went straight for the wine cabinet.

She was on her second glass of Shiraz when he made the comment. She was wet with him and sore.


“I don’t know how we can keep this out of the news if someone sees her.” He carried on. Raven was listening. 

“She’s not taken the Mercedes down there. She leaves it by the train and uses that to get to the city.”

“Did you have her followed.”, “There’s always been some surveillance for the family. His father insisted . But I stepped it up myself after she hit the parked car on the street and we had to have our lawyer friend brought in to avoid the police her.”

“Has there been more.” Raven asked. 

“More? I’d think the pictures of her naked in that back alley down town with a homeless man would be enough.”

“Of course it’s enough but how much more is there?

“Well we have her in the western bar.  There’s  a gang of black men in the porn club. She’s been to the park as well.

“God, how long has it been going on.” Raven sighned. She was staring at one nail with the black rose. 

“I told you, it’s only been a couple of weeks.’

“A couple of weeks.’


“And she’s the same in every other way.”

“Yes. With the kids and in her own work. It’s just she seems tireless.  All that fucking. All those nights out. Whenever he’s on trips away , she’s up half the night drinking and going  with different men. There must be 30 or more already.”

‘We have to stop this.’ Raven said, adamant, no longer studying her nail, looking straight at him. 

“What do you think I’ve been saying?” He asked, his tone hurt

.”while what do you suggest. You must have some suggestion. You’ve been building up to this’

“I think we have to Talk to his mother.”

“Really. “ she said, looking back at her nails

 “Yes. Not just because she has her own problems. She’s got the most to lose.  I’ll talk to her mother too.  Lets the ladies handle it. I expect they’re concerned but they don’t know all of it. I was hoping it would stop without them but it hasn’t. I need you to arrange it.”

Raven understood. It just wasn’t in her job description as a bodyguard. She didn’t like things to get messy and this really had the potential to get messy real fast. Besides she liked her job.


The mothers talked to her shortly after, in the morning, over coffee.

“We’ve decided it would be best if you took a vacation dear.” 

She’d looked from one to the other.

“We know’ her mother said.

She looked around the carefully decorated sitting room, bay windows ,brocaded couch. Her eyes settled on the French Provincial Furniture legs.

“What if I don’t want to take go ?” She asked. after taking a sip of tea from her cup peering over the rim  at the two women, calculating.

“It’s best for the children.” Her mother said.

“ We’re only thinking about the children, Dear.” His mother said. 

She wondered how much they knew. They’d never say but it wasn’t about details now, was it. Not to these women.  She’d not seen them look so strong in so many years. She didn’t like them looking at her this way.  She felt sick and she didn’t think it was just her hangover. She tried to think of her options.  She was wearing a linen pant suit and found herself staring now at the fabric, admiring it as she did the incredibly expensive Persian silk and wool carpet 

“Where would I go, “ she asked, after a while

“We’ve made all the arrangements with friends back home.” 

“I dont want to go there.”  She abhorred that place.  So strict. So secretive. So controlling. She thought she’d run away if they insisted. She was studying the bone china cup.

“You’ve given us no choice dear.”  First one mother spoke then the next.  They were sitting side by side.  Matriarchs  

It was only days later she was on the plane.


Raven  had flown out with her. Neither spoke. 

Her husband met the waitress after her shift was finished. He took her to the suite at the Beach Hotel  he’d rented for the occasion.  She really was a young thing. So energetic. She’d insisted on being on top and he liked that.  He couldn’t remember how good strange felt. Looking up at her pert breasts and pretty face as she ground her hips and moaned in ecstasy her head flung back her long neck stretched back, he felt young and powerful. After they’d done it once she’d wanted  him to take her from behind. He’d liked that. He’d even been a little rough. Slapped her ass a few times. Like a porn star.  After they’d showered together.  He’d watched her dress.  He’d thought of offering her money but when she didn’t ask he’d thought nothing of it.  He just figured she’d liked it as much as he did.  He was planning on seeing her but she was a little coarse. A bit cheap for his taste now he was dated. Lacking class, he though He didn’t know what he thought of the ‘Fuck You’ tattoo she had cursively written across the small of her back either. 


“What were you thinking?” His father asked him two days later.  The family lawyer was present.  “Forget that question. It was stupid of me. You weren’t thinking.  Now tell Mark here exactly what happened and perhaps he can make it right. You can can’t you, Mark.”

“I think so. It would have been worse if she’d gone to the police. The fact that she called you is a pretty good indication it’s just a straight forward shake down. I don’t like the bruises.  You didn’t do any of this, I presume.” He showed the picture of the girl with a bruised and swollen eyes and split lip.

“Of course not.  That’s ridiculous.  I never hit her face. I slapped her butt maybe but I didn’t do that. I’d never hit a woman in the face.” The son was furious. Bantu cock furious. 

“I didn’t think so, so this could mean either she’s done it herself or she’s got an accomplice.’

What’s she asking?” The father asked. 

“Well she’s not asking anything yet. She’s just saying she doesn’t want any other woman to go through what she’s gone through. She says she feared for her life and wanted you to know that she isn;’t after money or anything but that she’s concerned. She thinks your son needs help.”

‘God, that means she wants a lot. What do you guess. 5 figures, 6 figures.” The father looked at Mark. 

“I’ve asked Lou to find out if there’s a boyfriend. I think she wants 6 figures but we can get it down to 5. It’s not like she’s anyone.  What we can tell from her  family is that they’re into drugs.” Mark said. 

She was admitted to a private hospital overseas in a country where oversight wasn’t an issue and privacy was respected more than anything. The country existed solely to serve the wealthy and powerful. It had been that way for hundreds of years. Most times  such hospitals didn’t  even records. The staff kept what they needed to protect themselves if anything  unravelled. 

Her case was fairly straight forward. There were twenty other women all about the same age, young to middle age mothers, all supposedly depressed.   They had all been fairly  shaky the first days after their arrival.  There was no talking therapy.  Good food, rest and clonepin. There was no liquor in the facility.It wasn’t easy to come by in the country. Not  that that had stopped the local women of class. What they hadn’t been able to buy on the black market their young bodies and obvious intelligence had been able to procure. 

It was different for her.  She’d always had it.  No restrictions. Wine racks always stocked. Until now.  She didn’t like feelings she had now.  She’d been in a foul mood when she spoke to the doctor, called him all manner of names but he’d just put her in a room by herself. The women in the white uniforms, were all butch. Big girls.  Russian by the accent. She’d tried to seduce one but she’d only laughed at her.  


He sat watching his father and the lawyer. It was the second discussion. 

“There’s a biker boyfriend. He’s behind the extortion. He’s not affiliated though. Just a druggy. Even sold his Harley last month for some more crack. Its desperation. The two of them.  Drug addicts who thought they’d lucked out. Wanting the big score. Feeling entitled to it.”

“What can we do.” The father 

“They only want $10,000 . They’d started at $100,000 , just as I said. They settled for $10,000. I have the pictures of her and don’t think there are any more. They’re not smart enough to have kept copies. I scared them a bit too”

“But what happens when they use up the money you’ve given them and they need more drugs. Won’t they keep coming back.’ He asked, even though he’d felt relief at what he’d heard. 

“I don’t think so.  I talked to a friend about that and they said they’d look into it.” The lawyer answered, sharing an imperceptible nod with the father.


A couple of months later there were two more fentanyl deaths in the city.  The man wasn’t known by any one locally. The girl had a mother who identified her body for the police. The father’s whereabouts were not known.


The young woman came home a couple of months later.  She was older now. She wanted to be angry with her mother but she couldn’t be. She was just so glad to be home . To see her children.. To be in her own house. She talked half the night with her sister who caught her up on what was going on.

“Serves him right,” she said when she heard.

That was it.


Life went on.  She talked with the psychiatrist like a good girl. He never asked her anything about herself just wanted to know about the medication. It was what they’d given her in the hospital.  An antidepressant and something  that curbed her desire to drink as well.  

She saw the psychiatrist every month for fifteen minutes. When she’d tried to talk to him about her past or anything but the medication, he cut her off. “I’m sorry our time is up. We can discuss that next session.”  But nothing was discussed.  He was a private psychiatrist and the husband’s family paid him $500 each month.. She learned to take the medication and dutifully comment on her sleep and bowell movements.

Everyone was happy.

She was the wife of a very powerful man today.  The man’s lawyer took him on vacation to some island a couple of times a year.  There was all sorts of scandal in the news feeds but nothing stuck to her or her family.  When her father died her mother told her how much money they had overseas. She hadn’t thought she could be surprised but she was. 

That night she slept with her old boss and told her. “I knew all along girl. It never mattered to me.  Never let the kids know or it will go to their heads.  You don’t want children to lose control now , do you.”

“I guess not, ‘ she said.  She remembered the men in the back alley and the park. She could use a drink. She took an extra pill that night. Her son would be  graduating college soon. She didn’t want to think of her past.



No comments: