Chapter 5 - The Boat

Chapter 5 supposed to follow Chapter 2 (I am writing out of sequence, but I'm just trying to write and put as much stuff on paper first, and as the ideas get formed, then edit it to death, I did say this is a multiple year project didn't I? 

What I was trying to convey in this chapter is that Christopher had re-engaged Rebecca into a sexual affair with him, and he had clearly done this before, and while Rebecca couldn't remember of any past events, it was clear that they had been down the path before. She need to figure out what was her missing memories and what type of role Christopher played in the past.

Next chapter I think we should introduce the shrink. As it would be a good transition for Rebecca to try to seek professional help, to figure out why Christopher would imply that they've been doing this before. Thoughts?

Jan 1, 2012: Abandoning this effort. Rather, taking it more seriously, doing serious rewrite. So I'll stop doing this here on this blog site. Stories are being changed, though we are happy with the names, Rebecca is taking on a new identity, and Christopher will have a new profession. They both will be a lot younger. We are turning it into a much appealing story line. So I'll stop here.  But the sense of direction is giving me the hope. I think we are finally on the right track.

--------------------------------------------------------

December 2011

Rebecca’s diary: "Life is a like a revolving door with you. I don't know which door will open. I don't know what I will see on the other side. I am still obsessed with you. I can't deny the pull. I can't deny that I continue to push that revolving door, hoping to find the real you.  But I often run into a wall. But I try.

I feel alive when my emotions were tangled up with you. I feel a sense of worth, and in that very twisted way, I felt that my emotion, like a sail boat that had been sailing for too long without any direction, had a harbor to dock, even though it was a temporary shelter, it gave me hope, that perhaps one day I could feel again.”

October 2011

Rebecca had written this about that faceless man in her dream, she thought that it was paying an homage to Alex, but when she wrote this paragraph, it came from her heart and she knew her heart did not belong to Alex. She thought that it could be meant for John, but she was never obsessed with John. She traveled down further her memory lane, she thought she could have gotten it from her early twenties obsession with Mark, but Mark had long since ceased out of her life, many years ago. That left with Christopher, who she had just met up again and she was now en route to the boat, which was docked at the Marina.

Christopher had turned 47 last month. He was a young 47 year old, he looked at most in his late 30s, he was about 5’10”, thin and fit, he wore glasses, dark green ones, that matched his green eyes. He had curly light brown hair and was growing a beard. He had very Germanic feature, really white even teeth, when he smiled his faced beamed; he was a very handsome man, stylish, sophisticated and boyishly attractive. He said that growing a beard made him looked manly. He took this look seriously, and was particular about how he put his looks together. On the first date, he worn a bright red hat, and said it kept his hair intact, but Rebecca suspected that it was his distinct fashion sense. He had spent a couple of years living in northern Europe, in Copenhagen. He was wearing the same red hat again, as they drove to the Marina. Rebecca had thought about her journal and the way she wrote about this faceless man, and she wondered if she really was directing her creative energy on Christopher. She had always preferred a taller man, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with Christopher. He was a quintessential GQ type, he had what would make Rebecca’s knees go weak, if he was less prettier, and more assertive.

Christopher seemed to be very laid back, he had that undefined intensity, that sorted of showed up from time to time, but most of the time, he hid it well. Rebecca had suspected there was something more about Christopher than meeting the eye. He ran an architectural firm, a successful one that specialized in urban design, not so different from John’s field, but his clients were more in the private sector, and most of his work won awards abroad, and he wrote articles and presented papers in Europe often.  He graduated from top of his class from MIT, and he was successful in establishing himself early on.  He was Rebecca’s physical type, but he had that really complex and removed personality that made him less approachable. Rebecca never got to know him, so she never tried.

They arrived at the dock.  Christopher took a curious side-glance of Rebecca. She thought that he had expected her to say something to him. The night had started starry and warm, but at 10 PM, it felt chilly and a patch of cloud covered the sky. The Marina was quiet, full of sailboats.  It would be her first time, she had never been here before, yet she felt a sense of familiarity.  She attributed it to her most likely having been here during the day, on her runs. Rebecca was an avid runner and had been training for marathons. She had a trainer at her health club, who had been given her tasks on weekends, which included long distance running. She thought it must have been one of her weekend runs that took her to this Marina. But there was more. She would not have gone to the dock, as these were usually locked for safety purpose. Yet she felt utterly familiar with the surroundings.

Christopher had started walking so she trailed him behind, all the while making small chatters to keep her from feeling nervous. She had instinctively known that this was going to be something more than a tour of the boat. Something was going to happen, something unexplainable, but not unexpected.

She stopped in front of a boat when Christopher stopped. She felt a sense of familiarity. Christopher began to undress his shoes and climbing onto the boat. She followed his footsteps, quietly.

“This is my boat.” Christopher was now standing on top of the boat, looking down at her, the moonlight was shining through the crowd, his frame was covered with a strange light, he illuminated.

“Come”. He extended a hand to Rebecca, and she climbed up.

He went down to the cabin first, to lit the light. He was an expert at it, he turned on the music, and dimmed these lights. Rebecca stood quietly, waiting for him to finish. She knew that he was creating a mood, a make out mood. She was surprisingly calm, she did not feel her heart beating fast, she just felt a sense of familiarity, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Christopher turned around and grabbed her waist to pull her closer, and he pressed his lips on her. This time Rebecca responded with enthusiasm. She kissed him back, and she felt a renewed passion, one she didn’t sense when he first kissed her in the car, on the way here. She wanted this, she told herself, something exciting, new and unusual.

“You kiss well.” Christopher stopped for a second to comment before kissing her some more.

“Can we not have sex tonight?” Rebecca asked. She was worried about her reputation, of all things, this was what she thought to ask. Her body did something else unexpected, she had sense a heat coming on, she felt dizzy, with an increasing excitement just as she plead to not have sex.

Christopher was busy undressing her, and he said, “OK.” In a few minutes they were in their respective underwear, locking lips, while Christopher moving his lips to her nipples and he nibbled on her. “You are so soft and curvy.”  Christopher kept on complimenting her. “I’m very attracted to you.” He continued.

Rebecca found it again, a sense of familiarity she should not be feeling. It had been at least 14 years since they had been intimate. Yet, they slide into this sense of familiarity, as if they had never been parted for long.

“You don’t remember?” Christopher asked gently while caressing her back.

“How could I? It’s been too long”. Rebecca answered while letting out of a moan. She found Christopher removing her panties. 

“I told you that we are not having sex.” Rebecca begged.

“Yes, I know. It’s OK, we won’t.” Christopher answered back, but he had not stopped undressing her. Next thing she knew his erection was pressed against her naked pussy. He rubbed himself against her, while she attempted to wiggle herself out under him.

“Don’t worry. We won’t have sex.” Christopher assured her, but had not stopped rubbing himself against her. She was feeling a sense of wetness, and a familiar replay in her head was forming, she couldn’t recall where it came from but it was there all right.

Just before she could recall what the memory was about, Christopher entered her.  She tried to get him off her, “I said no sex.” She found her voice weakened. The sensation was familiar, and fantastic, if she could just let herself enjoy for a while. He smiled and continued to kiss her as he continued to pound her. It was not what she had expected, but it felt natural, as it ought to be. So she stopped fighting.  But then he stopped. He pulled out. He pulled her off the seat, and said, “wait for a moment.” He disappeared to the front of the boat, and a few seconds later, he came back with two very long nautical white ropes.

“I will need to tie you up.” Christopher’s eyes were intense, he looked at Rebecca, as if he was asking her, but Rebecca knew it was not a question, it was a command. She found herself almost pleased by it. Even though she knew that she ought to be shocked by his demand.  She put her arms and wrist together, and Christopher tied her hands expertly together, and then he worked on her legs.  Rebecca had never done this before, she thought that she ought to be a little scared by it, but she felt secure, nature and perfectly safe, to her dismay, she knew Christopher somehow had done this before, with whom she didn’t want to know.

With her hands and legs all tied up, Christopher flipped her so that her buttock was facing the boat’s ceiling.

“Now raise your butt for me”. Christopher requested.

Rebecca obliged. She felt like a caged animal, restrained and antsy, yet an excitement was slowly accumulating, as if she had always anticipated this from the beginning.

Just then she felt a sharp slap on her bottom. It was loud, hard and caused pain shooting up her spine. She screamed and turned around. Christopher had that very intense look that she saw earlier that night.  He put his hand over her mouth, and whispered to her ears, “Quiet, baby.”

Rebecca begged, “it hurts, please be gentle. I’ve never done this before.”

Christopher kissed her, this time urgent and abrupt. He took his lips away just as she was begging for more, thinking this gentle kiss could convince him to be easy on her.

“Baby, you need to be punished.” With that Christopher spanked her hard, and she felt the sharp pain again, this time she felt slightly relaxed, as if she had resigned. 

“Good girl. I can see my hand print on your butt cheeks.” Christopher whispered by her ears as he brushed his hand gently across the face.

“This is just a beginning. You will be my sex slave. I don’t want you to fuck others. Only me. Not even your husband. You understand that.” He commanded.

Rebecca was feeling a sense of strange arousal with this rather odd command from Christopher, the person who seemed so laid back, so unthreatening, who had now tied her up and was slacking her hard.

She nodded her head, and found her trembling voice, she begged, “More please.”

With that Christopher raised his hand, he gently touched her buttock, as if he was examining a piece of Italian shirt to ensure the stitches were made just right, and he paused, and then he raised his hand and slapped down hard

Rebecca screamed with pain, but her voice was muffled because Christopher had used his free hand to cover her mouth. She was feeling suffocated, he held his hand there, while the other hand pressed her body down, so she couldn’t move. She was again, surprised by her willingness to endure this sadist act, and that she was strangely turned on by it, when she had never done this before, and there would not have been a way for Christopher to know that she was enjoying it.

“You are mine, mine only, from now on. No more Alex, no more John. Mine.” Christopher’s calming voice was restrained, but she felt a sense of anger. She had only shared very minor details about her affair with Alex, and she couldn’t understand why Christopher felt so entitled about her, as she belonged to him. But some part of her responded by saying, “Yes. No more. I’m all yours.”

Christopher kissed her back, as if it was a reward for her to agree to his terms, his kiss was passionate and leisurely, and he lingered his tongue inside Rebecca’s, and let her kissed him back without prematurely withdrawing from her. 

“You are mine. You understand?” Rebecca heard him repeating the same words again, it was not a question. She nodded her head.

“Good baby.” Christopher flipped her and this time she was facing him, he stared at her face, and said, “I missed you.” With that he thrust himself inside of her, while her legs and hands are tied up. He came, inside of her, without a condom, without apology. He then cradled her, while his lips locked with hers.

Rebecca felt depleted. While she ought to feel violated, she was strangely satisfied with this experience; this S&M action had suited her, even though she believed that this was her first time.

“You liked this, don’t you, Baby?” Christopher asked her, now all gentle and loving. He had lost that edge in his voice, he was not angry, or demanding, he was simply stating a fact. He was loving and nurturing. She thought that it was such a contrast, five minutes ago, she felt that she was about to get raped, and in a way, the sex felt violent, but she was wet as a puddle. She liked it, the act of being forced into having sex, to be tied up.

“Well, this was a first.” Rebecca sighed. But she giggled. She told Christopher she like it.

“I know, baby.” Christopher brushed his hand on her face, to remove a stray piece of hair, and he kissed her. “I missed you.”

This conversation would strike Rebecca as funny, she later confessed to her shrink. Why did Christopher keep on saying “I missed you”? As if he had expected her to return to him. Even though she knew that he had seen her for at least 10 years and certainly had not been intimate for more than 14 years.

“Have you been fucked in the butt?” Christopher asked.

Rebecca was horrified. She had been married for the last 13 years and had not had anything remotely more than the missionary style of sex. The kind that would put anyone to sleep.

“No, I have not.” She answered, feeling shy and self-conscious.

“Well, I will be first for you then. I want to have anal sex with you. I will be your first one.” Christopher said.

She was having trouble reconciling this mellow, non-demanding man she had known as a friend, possible gay to this confident, sexually dominate man he had become.

“I’m glad that you are back.” Christopher’s eyes were closed, as he said that, he pulled her closer to his chest. He was drifting into sleep.

Rebecca was unable to close her eyes. In the boat, this closely confined space, where she should feel strange, she sensed a familiarity. She took a stock of her surroundings, a comforter, a few pillows and a few lights dimly lit. This ought to be the first time she’s ever been on the boat, yet she had a sense of familiarity.

“Christopher, have I been here before?” She found herself asking.

“Yes, baby, many times.” was the last words Christopher said before he dozed off to sleep.

Rebecca lay awake, next to this man, her mind was racing. She was unable to rest all of sudden. There were some major memory gaps for her to fill. She knew that the more time she would spend with Christopher, the more she could unlock there doors, doors into the past, doors into the real Christopher, and possibly herself, a Pandora box.

That night Rebecca did not sleep. She thought long and hard, about what happened earlier that evening, about how she would proceed forward, about how much she might have forgotten.  Most of all, she thought how she liked to be tied up, and be spanked hard in a way that it truly hurt. She instinctively knew that this was not the first time Christopher had done it, but somehow she felt that he had done it with her in the past. Yet, there were no memories to fall back on. The last memory she had with Christopher was when they had breakfast, and she couldn’t recall any sexual act with him before.

The last word that echoed in Rebecca’s mind was the way Christopher said “I’m glad you are back.” It was as if he had been expecting her return, returning to him, returning to where she always belonged. As if she was a book that had been loaned out to others, and the book had finally been returned to the rightful owner.