Thursday, August 16, 2012

Freedom in Hiding

Heya guys, back to see Siam and Laura yet again; watching them explore their feelings and to explore Siam's past, hiding from the past causes problems in the present. Hope it is as good for you as it was for me, now I am off for an ecig.

Dear Diary

The last you saw of me was me tangled in my partner’s arms as she teased my tummy, when I awoke I found her hand had crept up to my left breast. It felt wonderful to have this gorgeous creature snaked around my body. It was something new, something wonderful, not like when touched by boys at church who pushed too far and who used to letch and treated me like I was laid out on a slab for inspection and use.

She was gentle, kind and just starting to stir from her slumber. I could tell that just by the way her arm slowly moved and she began to apologize. It felt strange to be the one reassuring due to the incident last night but I was relaxing her, I started by gently clamping my arm round hers so that she couldn’t move it and said, “if I wanted it moved I would’ve moved your arm when I woke up about an hour ago.”

 I turned to kiss her gently and then with a rush of confidence I never before knew I had, I took that arm of hers, grasping her hand and slid it down my tummy, reveling in the intake of breath this caused from my very willing lover. My hand moved hers slow and gentle till it was obvious as to what its final destination would be, “Siam Darlin’, stop.” I froze and spun to look at her confused, terrified I had done something wrong and began to sob again. “But, but, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do, to be? You’ve been so wonderful don’t I have to let, to give…” I stopped there the words not coming out of my mouth, the question hanging between us and just being held.

“Sweetheart, that isn’t how it is with me. You don’t have to spread your legs as a thank you or because you think that’s what I want. I want a relationship with you, I don’t want to fuck you once and then leave. Whatever else I may be I am not that kind of boy,” at this she giggled slightly. “I am quite a butch girl and I am very attracted to how delicate and feminine you are, even in combats you were defiantly a girl; a gorgeous, pouty, sweet, gentle  and oh so desirable girl. Most girls in that kind of gear lose their gender under the combat clothing but you, no. Everyone knew you were a girl and I wanted to claim you as mine.. I am attracted to you, physically and mentally. I don’t just want you because you’re this delicate, loveable sweet lil thing, I want you because you are Siam O’Hannah, a smart, sweet naive girl who is a fantastic PA, a fantastic cook, and have massive amounts of potential as a designer.”

My head snapped up in shock, “What? How did you know I wanted to be more than your assistant? That I want to try designing gear?”

“I may have flicked through your notebook when you went for lunch. I think the ammunition carrier design has real potential and your design for fitting a 1911 magazine into the spine of an address book and a diary is a wonderful idea. You have promise and just need firearms experience to help fine tune your work!”

I was absolutely astounded Diary!  I had been told my designs had merit and, that I was attractive in less than thirty seconds of each other and told that unlike what I had expected based on what caused me to leave home, I could offer myself only as much as I wanted!  I took a deep breath, “Laura, did I ever tell you why I left Chicago to apply for this job?”

“No, is it important?”

“Yeah kinda.” I took my partner's hand and crawled into her arms, afraid to look at her.  “Well, I was twenty one at that point and living at home.  I had earned a design degree specializing in accessories because I wanted to be a designer and started applying for jobs in Chicago. Eventually, I found a job as a PA in a bank run by a friend of my uncle’s.  Well, I was working there and saving to move out when it happened.”

“It?” Laura interrupted.

I replied “Hush a second and I will explain.  Now, if there are no interruptions?” I replied taking another deep breath and kissing her hand for comfort.
“I came home, it was a Friday, the week before I turned twenty two, so the week before good Friday.  I walked in and put my stuff in my room and headed downstairs.  My Ma and Da were in the sitting room with a young man who I recognized as the son of the manager of my father’s workplace. My dad spoke and he said something which chilled me to the bone, ‘Mary’.”

“Hey wait a minute, Mary?  But your name is Siam, isn’t it?” Laura asked confused.

“Mary was the name given to me at confirmation, and my family uses it a lot, but anyway. ‘Mary’, he said, ‘we have decided, your Ma and I, to find you a partner. This is Steven, he is a good catholic boy and the son of my manager and you will respect us by following our wishes. Now go get ready for a date.’”

Continuing the story I allowed myself to think about that day again, I told Laura the truth:
“I moved to my room in utter shock that they would be so blunt and decide my life for me like that.  I knew they were strict but… I dressed in my most conservative dress and returned downstairs as my father was shaking the boy’s hand. I meekly followed him to his car. We drove to a small restaurant and right from the start it was hateful!  He laid his hand on my thigh without asking, pushing under my calf length skirt with no sense of respect for me. In the restaurant he ordered for me, he made all my choices even down to how much I could eat of the meal!  It was awful!  He paid and we left on his schedule.  We drove to a point that I knew of, but had never visited.  It was nicknamed “Cherry Hill” by the teens and had been so named for so long that there were handmade signs for that name. I was scared and worried. I was really uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t listen. I begged to be taken home, but he wouldn’t listen.  He said he was taking what was his.  His hand ran down my leg under my skirt groping at my” I swallowed, remembering. “flower and I felt sick.  He leered at me, the beer on his breath as he thrust his tongue into my throat.  I felt sick and scared, it felt horrible, oh god it was awful!; him pawing at me like he had earned me. He kept telling me over dinner that when we were married, I wouldn’t be allowed to work. I would raise kids and he would keep me barefoot and pregnant, my degree never used because he said ‘women shouldn’t be educated, they belong at home.”

I was sobbing in my girlfriend’s arms as I was back there.  I was back in that car, locked in that memory and all she could do was stroke my hair gently.

“He carried on and it was so terrifying, my dress tearing, he told me that he was going to take me and I was to lay there and relax.  To get used to it, that this was my future. I pushed him away and he hit me, my dress torn, his hand yanking my panties off as he pinned me in place.” 

I stopped relaying to Laura for a moment, my eyes brimming with tears at the memory, feeling like I was back in that car again.

  “I screamed as he groped my breasts and managed to hit him with a slap, knocking his head against the dash and I took his keys and fled, throwing them off the point to make sure he couldn’t chase me. I walked barefoot down the point until a car’s headlights illuminated my shaking body.  It, thankfully, was a friend from school; well two actually, Lucy and Sophie. They stopped the car when they recognized me, seeing that I was in a state, crying. They asked what was wrong. Shaking, I told them and asked to be taken home. They half carried me into the car and I curled into a ball and cried all the way.

They carried me into the house, my parents were waiting. They had been called by the boy and were waiting for me to explain. I told them what had happened and my father shouted.  Not angry at the boy, but instead at me! I was ‘meant to accept this’ he said. He said ‘you are a woman so you are meant to be at home’, ‘you are his to control and to dominate as he sees fit.’  I am ‘to obey,’ my father said.  Shaking, horrified, I ran to my room in tears and gathered my things. I didn’t want to be forced to spend another date as the plaything of that boy. Sophie called her boyfriend Ben who protected me from my father’s rage and mother verbal abuse until I left the house.  The three of us left in the car together, I wanted to thank Ben but I couldn’t go near him.  He understood, but I still hated the fact that I was so scared.

They helped me look for somewhere away from Chicago and away from my family. Even to the extent of driving me down to the interview here which we had found in a magazine on tactical shooting that Ben owned from his job as a gunsmith. They put me up in a flat owned by a friend of the family who I still rent from, and supported me through all my nightmares.”

I was sobbing at this point, holding Laura so tightly; asking her, begging her not to leave. Asking her to promise what she said was true. Diary, all she did was hold me tightly. She texted work cancelling our days’ work and just held me. We didn’t leave the bed till gone midday and even then we spent the day in our pajamas on the sofa watching old TV shows and talking. I did some sketching of ideas for a handbag that could carry a magazine and also mount a secure holster without being obviously a weapon bag.

 Laura was supportive and wonderful. We dined together in her kitchen, cooking in a natural rhythm that felt perfect, like we had been doing it all our lives. Handing off prepped ingredients with a kiss, providing drinks and utensils as needed, gentle cuddles as we floated past each other, we just clicked. I was kissed by her as we walked back to the living room after washing and drying together and it was what the princess diaries called a perfect kiss, the foot pop and everything. I don’t know why, but Laura treats me like a princess. Not the useless damsel in distress but as someone who can look after myself, but she helps anyway. I am being taken care of without being smothered. Protected without being bubble-wrapped and she shows she loves me without being suffocating.

 I fell asleep in her lap as we watched old episodes of M*A*S*H, and fed each other popcorn. The kind of thing that should have been sickly sweet and nauseating, but because it was her and it was done in earnest with an understanding of the saccharine nature of it, it wasn’t twee it was just lovely. I stirred as I was again carried to bed, her teasing me, “You just drift off because you’re too lazy to walk to bed.”

“Nuhuh, it’s just comfy being carried.” I retorted deciding to be childish. She giggled and kissed my nose casing me to wrinkle it and groan playfully. We hit bed and drifted off together, wrapped around each other just enjoying the contact after kissing passionately yet gentle. Always gentle with each other “G’night my love”, she said.  “Yours”, I replied contentedly as I burrowed into her touch surrounding myself with her body, my feet resting on hers, my back against her chest, her head resting on mine and her arms holding me tight as my hands clasp hers.


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