Finally done with her ‘maid’ duties, Anna made way to Iman’s room, wanting more answers to a question that was troubling her for reasons that she was unsure of herself.
“It’s a bit sudden, don’t you think so?”
“It…bothers me; this job bothers me.”
“It bothers you or does Samar doing it bother you?”
Anna kept quiet, unable to answer Iman’s question. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her – all these thoughts about Samar had been dominating her mind for a while now and she didn’t even know much about Samar to begin with.
And yet …
Every time she sees Samar, she feels a lift in her heart. Wearing Samar’s hand-me-downs makes her blush every time she thinks about the clothes being worn by Samar previously. She wasn’t even thinking of anything lewd yet the mere thought of Samar often left her feeling hot and bothered.
Her feelings were chaotic and in a mess; she wasn’t sure where it was leading her or if she wanted to pursue it further. On the other hand, she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling – she could hardly define anything since her failing memory left everything inside of her blurry. Every time she got close to remembering something, her heartbeat gallops; the palpitations it caused shakes her whole being.
Push as she might, it never seemed to become clearer.
“I don’t know, honestly,” she finally answered.
Iman looked at her, bemused. Tanned and tall, Iman easily towered over her. Her cloudy grey eyes, an effect from the contact lens that she wore regularly, made her hard to be read. Anna couldn’t help but admire her beauty; her dusky skin glowed under the sensual fluorescent lights that enhanced her appearance in that flimsy camisole that she wore as an excuse of a nightwear.
She was Aphrodite in every sense, oozing out sensuality effortlessly yet there was something about her that just seemed off.
“You would probably be surprised at my reasoning but since you wanted to know so much, why not?” Iman said as she combed her hair while sitting in front of her dresser, peering at Anna who’s on the side of her bed through the mirror. “Though I doubt knowing will take you closer to understanding why someone would want to do this.”
No one would have guessed that I was from a rich family that was still around up North. My family’s three-storeyed-bungalow was a prominent building in my kampong, which was expected as my father was the kampong’s head. If you had told me that you expected my father to be a wise and pious aging man because of his position, I would have laughed at you, even though I understand what you would expect such.
My father was anything but pious.
Though the eldest male in my family has been the head of the kampong for generations now, my father was less inclined to be one. However, for the sake of keeping up with tradition, he agreed to partake, as long as the responsibility of being the kampong’s head did not interfere with his business.
He was a well-known businessman in the import-export industry. Dabbling in the shipping industry as a hobby rather than as a second business, he was making a substantial amount of money in a short period of time. On the outside, it looked as if he was making it big; the kampong kid that made money and a name for himself with just his grit and perseverance. It was only those behind the scenes, or family members to be exact, that knew his ‘real’ source of income and success.
The repercussions if caught smuggling was extreme and not to mention, embarrassing, however, if done well and carefully, the returns were nothing less than handsome.
Growing up in such a household, my life had almost no shortcomings. There was nothing that I could genuinely complain about, there was nothing lacking in my life. I was in every essence a princess, the youngest in the family with three older good looking brothers to look up to. Everything was just perfect, you know? Everything was simply perfect.
Honestly, though my life might have sounded perfect, it was anything but such.
Though my father’s smuggling activities were not advertised out in the open yet at the same time, it wasn’t something that he was discreet about. As of such, we were always viewed with a kind of apprehension by outsiders. As much as I tried to lead a normal teenage life, it was difficult for me to fit in as the comfort that I received thanks to my father’s considerable wealth made those around me feel very uncomfortable. My princess-like status and my family’s treatment of me often made others shy away in fear of invoking the wrath of my father and my domineering brothers.
I can’t really blame them for doing so; I mean, I would have probably done the same thing. People were so intimidated by my wealth and status to an extent that they started to avoid me by sight. It wasn’t as if we had put on a show, throwing money wherever we went. Nothing seemed to matter though; it was enough that we had the stink of money all over us.
I guess the idleness gave me too much of time to do things that I wasn’t supposed to. For a teenager, boredom, idleness, and curiosity are a dangerous concoction. Spending my time on the computer for hours after school, I came across pornography for the first time when I was sixteen. It opened up a kind of path that led to something that to me was massively unknown and yet the warning bells that toiled were seducing in its own unique way. Pushing excuses aside, I didn’t care about the possibilities of what might happen; I had found something to kill time, and that something piqued my interest.
Funnily though, even at a place like mine, with its heavily emphasised religious teachings and such, there were always available outlets for these kinds of activities to take place. I doubt my father knows about the existence of some of the places even now. The things that I learnt from the videos were entertaining and educating to me, and after a certain point, I wanted to know more.
How would it feel like to perform them, to experience them? Was it as good as it appeared to be?
The men that I met, the men that knew my identity and yet kept it a secret for the want to continue doing those things to me, were never able to satisfy my curiosity. Different techniques, different positions, various number of partners at one go; you name it, I’ve tried it. Though I seek for men that were my kind, when that didn’t satisfy me, I turned to other kinds of men; different races, different religion meant nothing to me. When that felt lukewarm still, I turned to women instead; you’d be surprised with this but I came closer to having my appetite sated with women than with men.
I have to admit though, the thrill of having sex and the probability of getting caught added to the excitement. That in itself was enough to turn me on. It took me a while to understand though that getting turned on was easy but getting satisfied was harder.
The frustration that set in after a while was tantamount; I became angry when my partners still couldn’t take me to that elusive point. Orgasm was something I had studied intently and was still unable to experience it no matter what I tried or did. The anger that began to seep in started to slowly make itself known. I was oblivious to it and had gotten away with it; a hard scratch on my partner’s back, an animalistic bite that drew blood or left bruises all over. With time though, my partners began to feel something was amiss, and they began to threaten me; one went more than that and had actually hit me back in return, leaving a deep imprint of his palm across my cheek.
And that set it off, the chain reaction that I didn’t see coming, but should have. Thinking back, I don’t know what I would have done even if I had anticipated it happening then.
My domineering brothers and father went ballistic upon seeing me in such a condition; imagine, they thought I was raped or something. They were like a pack of wolves hungry for blood and were all over me, wanting to know what had happened. Their faces when I finally admitted what had happened were priceless; they couldn’t digest the fact that the princess that they had worshipped and taken care of as if she was fragile was actually actively pursuing various different sex partners akin to a seasoned prostitute.
The thought didn’t cross my mind until my father accused me of being a prostitute – wait, why didn’t I think of being one? Instead of just sleeping around and getting nothing out of it, I could have gotten paid right? I mean, it’s not like I needed the money but something was definitely better than having nothing at all.
And so I left, wanting to have nothing to do with that life anymore. I didn’t want to return to that place, that idleness that was sucking my soul out slowly. I didn’t want to rot in such a way; I wasn’t porcelain, I was a living human being. The sexual interactions that I had gave me a sense of ‘life’, a sense of living more than anything else. I was done with playing princess; I was more than happy to be treated like a bitch, at least that made me feel something.
“So now you know my story.” Catching the look on Anna’s face, Iman laughed. “Why do you look so horrified? It wasn’t the kind of story you were expecting?”
“What, were you hoping for a sob story – maybe you thought I was raped, duped or desperate for money and that’s why I’m doing this?”
“Well, I’m sorry to have burst your bubble but you’d hear no such story from me. I’m in this purely for the pleasure. Of course, there’s so many things out there that I could do that doesn’t involve me selling my body but I doubt it’ll give me such satisfaction as the one that I’m enjoying now.”
“And you do – enjoy this, I mean?”
“Of course.” She got up from her seat and approached Anna. “Why would I do something that I don’t enjoy? Like I said, I don’t need the money. Where else could I pleasure myself this way regularly?”
“What about love?”
“Love is an adjective that can’t and should not be applied here. Love and sex doesn’t go hand in hand, Anna. You can pleasure someone without loving them.”
She stood in front of Anna and slowly bend over, placing her hand on Anna’s cheek, cupping them just as she brought her face closer to hers.
“Wait! What are you doing?”
“I haven’t even done anything yet I can feel the tremours passing through your body. You’re instinctively getting ready for my touch, even though you don’t love me. Aren’t you curious on what would happen if we take this further?”
She lowered her lips towards a stunned and pliant Anna, brushing her lips on hers softly. Anna was trembling against the hand that cupped her, wanting to have nothing to do with this but afraid of the unknown, of what might happen if she pushed her away.
The door was pushed open all of a sudden, with Samar stalking in angrily.
It took one look for Samar to understand what was going on. Brows creasing in anger, she approached them and yanked Anna’s hand, pulling her up from the bed roughly as Iman stepped aside, her face lit with amusement.
“My my, it looks like we’ve been found out.”
To be honest, I got to apologise. I’ve been suffering from writer’s block recently. It’s not that I’m out of ideas; my mind is just too preoccupied with my assignments – I’m in 3rd year of Uni now – which is why I haven’t been able to update this story on my usual Wednesdays as previously. I’m trying to finish up the assignments on time so that I can focus on my writing projects as well – I have several others that are still pending. I’m hoping that things would be less hectic come November. Thanks for reading! ^^