I looked at the pile of books that I had printed, that were not yet sold. Sighing, I picked one up and flicked through the pages. My first adult novel. I had decided to write about a prostitute and used some of my own experiences in the process. It was full of things I had done or had a strong desire to try. For instance, I was dying to know what it would be like to have a threesome with a father and son. Would it be weird? It was something I had explored in the novel, trying to understand how they all would have felt during the act. Another chapter was dedicated to her gang bang experience. Not something I would want to try but I wondered what the girl would be thinking of as random men entered her and used her body for their own gratification. Generally, the lady’s emotions did not come into play in such an act. It was a glorified act of violence and degradation. I explored so many issues and topics. The taboo. It enchanted me and I wanted to experience life through the eyes of my character.
Unfortunately, my parents had discovered the books.
I had written it on paper – technophobe remember! My mother had been rummaging in my closet for a shirt that she felt had ended up in my cupboard by mistake. She fished the manuscript out of my sock draw, along with my first toys that John had bought me. One of which still had a card attached.
Mother burst into tears and cried on my bed for hours until I came home from school. I saw her holding my book and my vibrator. Instantly I knew what she was thinking and tried to explain. I told her that it wasn’t my diary and that the toy was from a guy at school who was helping me out with my project. She pretended to believe me but held onto the items tightly and resumed her crying.
This of course brought my father up into my room, who did a double take when he saw the vibrator. Awkward!
Once again I tried to explain that this was a novel I was working on and that the vibrator was a gift to help me write the book. It had never been used. Which funnily enough was the truth of the situation. He grabbed the items from my mother and stared at the card. As the colour drained from his face, I realised that he recognised the handwriting. He slowly opened the book and flipped through the pages. He stormed out of my room, still clutching the items in his hand. I heard him go to his car and drive off.
Mother was beside herself. She went down and opened a bottle of vodka. I believe she has not stopped drinking since that day all those years ago.
Not long after he left, father returned, with John in tow. He dragged him to my room and demanded to know if he had slept with me. John tried to deny the whole thing but when he saw the vibrator and the card attached, he hung his head in shame. He looked at me with such hatred that I shrank into the bed and looked at my father. He was shaking visibly when he kicked him out of the house.
I was sent to a psychiatrist to deal with my supposed addiction. It was ludicrous! I was going to be an author. Why did they not believe me when I told them it was my book? When I explained to the psychiatrist what was going on, she asked to read the novel. At our next session, she wore attire that probably wasn’t appropriate for a session.
“How much of this is your own personal experience,” she asked.
“Some. It was more a way to explore sexuality without the emotional involvement. I had always been intrigued by the taboo.”
“I see. So, are you really bi-sexual? Do you find yourself attracted to females as well as males?”
I looked at her and realised she was coming on to me. Wasn’t this illegal? Or was she testing me?
“I love people. It doesn’t matter if they are male or female. How long must I attend this before you release me?”
She stood and walked over to the door, locking it. When she turned around I realised that she was in fact trying to seduce me, however poor the delivery.
“What about the taboo of patient and doctor?” she asked meekly.
I smiled. She was turned on by my book. This was success! The book had this affect on people! What more could I want?!
“Are you bi-sexual, doctor?”
She bit her lip and sat down. I could see that she was nervous. Perhaps she was curious but didn’t know what to do?
“Do you find me attractive,” I asked as I stood and walked over to her.
She licked her lips and looked at me with hunger and curiosity. Perhaps I was fulfilling her desires?
I knew that the only way to end this therapy session was to fuck her, so I seduced her. I made her scream in ecstasy and gave her such an orgasm that she trembled and crumpled to the floor.
How was I to know that my father would be picking me up that day? He banged on that door and demanded to be let in. When he saw us, he knew what had happened and had dragged me to the church. Obviously I was possessed and needed an exorcism! That the good doctor instigated it was unthinkable to my father. I was the baddie.
Well, it was almost a repeat performance at church. The priest was as eager to discover if my taboo list included members of the clergy, as he realised that I had not written about it in the novel he had demanded to read. We had been having an affair at his office for over a week before my father discovered us and hauled me off to a nunnery, advising the poor nuns that I was a sex addict and needed to be locked away in a room by myself, lest I corrupt the whole lot of them. Little did he know that there was a group of them that were corrupt; they shared some very interesting experiences with me. I was but a novice to these ladies. My first group lesbian act occurred right there in that nunnery. Praise the Lord! I yelled His name in ecstasy many a night. Forgive me, for I have sinned.
After that, I moved out and lived in an apartment with a friend from high school, before I inherited a house. An old aunt had died and had signed her fortune and house over to me. She was batty and loved a good scandal. Apparently before she had found out about my escapades, she was considering leaving her fortune to the state. Upon discovering that I was as wild and carefree as she had been, I became the favourite and all was left to me; kited out dungeon included.
Unfortunately, most of her wealth was tied up in heirlooms and I didn’t have the heart to sell them off. Instead, I wrote freelance for some magazines and newspapers, making ends meet and sometimes earning a little bit extra by writing for some porn sites. Why not do something you’re good at? It was obvious that this is where my talents lay.
Hmmm... perhaps I should ask to place an ad as payment and sell my books via them?
YOU ARE READING
Boudoir Secrets 2Mystery / Thriller
Continuation of Boudoir Secrets... a naughty, raunchy thriller... Read if you dare ;) This is a thriller, so please be advised it is for more mature audiences. Rated M