Page 17 of Tainted Reasoning

Chapter Seven

William

Tap, Tap, stomp, stomp, swish, swish. I can do this – I can calm myself down before I do something even more stupid than I’ve just done by fucking Tamara. No, the fucking her wasn’t wrong. It was beautiful – the best sex I’ve ever had. There was a connection between us until I went and spoiled it, allowing the monster within me to take over. My mind is a haze of confusion. Without showering or washing, I jump under the covers of my bed and pull the weighted blanket up to my neck. Instantly, I feel the plush fabric mold to my still naked form, enveloping me in its comforting embrace. I know it seems strange for a twenty-eight-year-old man to need a comfort blanket, but I really struggled trying to get to sleep until Nicholas read about these covers on the Autism UK website, recently. They’re a new advancement in the fight against anxiety and the issues of ADHD and autism – specially designed to match the user’s body weight, helping the user to feel grounded. I’ve slept so much better since he bought me the best one money can buy. When my mind is overstimulated, as it was before I climbed into my bed, it’s the only thing that can prevent me from having a meltdown. And again, yes, I’m a twenty-eight-year-old man who has meltdowns and has been known to smash up his bedroom. It’s part of my condition, but it isn’t a daily occurrence. I need to fall asleep and try to forget everything that has happened today – chalk it up to a bad day and come back stronger tomorrow. Sometimes, that’s all I can do when the world surrounding me borders on chaos in my mind.

A light knocking on my door draws me out of my reflection.

“William.” Tamara’s voice comes from the other side. Part of me doesn’t want to let her in, but I know we need to discuss what happened between us. I sit up in the bed and pull the covers down to my chest. No point in being bashful, now. She’s seen every part of me.

“Come in,” I call back.

Opening the door slowly, Tamara peeps her head around the corner of it, and I instantly see she’s been crying. I pat the bed, encouraging her to sit beside me. She looks at it, then me, and I can see the indecision on her face.

“I won’t…I won’t hurt you, again,” I reassure her as she hesitantly comes to sit on the end of the bed. “I’m sorry,” I offer.

She brings her hand to her neck. She’s wearing a dressing gown, which shields her nakedness from me, but I can still imagine every curve of her body. The little mole she has on her left shoulder, and the heaviness of her breasts in my hands.

“Will you tell me about your past?” she asks, and I’m initially confused with her meaning.

“I don’t understand? What do you want to know?”

“You’ve been locked away for most of your life, but I don’t believe that was your first time. You had too much experience and knowledge of what you like in order to get off.” Tamara doesn’t look at me when she speaks. Instead, she seems to have found a space on my bedroom floor that’s riveting.

“Oh!” I exclaim and find my own interesting spot to look at on the old-fashioned rug, covering the wooden floor. “No, that wasn’t my first time. I know it wasn’t yours.” She quickly looks up at me with her eyes wide open. “I mean…I…Damn. I overhead you and Victoria talking on the phone once. I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

“Just you knew I was a sure thing because I’m not a virgin.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, and a small smile crosses her lips as if to say she’s messing with me. It dispels some of the tension in the room, and leaning back, I settle into my pillow.

“My father decided when I turned sixteen that I needed to experience a woman. Nicholas wasn’t exactly a saint at eighteen and was already renowned for his appreciation of the feminine form. I think he thought maybe it would make me less strange if I lost my virginity. You know, it might cure me type of thing.”

Tamara rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“He had this girl brought to the house. She came into my room, lowered her robe, and was naked underneath. It was really awkward because I hadn’t been prepared, and suddenly I’ve got a naked woman in my bedroom. I was more interested in the differences in her form to mine than anything else. Needless to say, my father wasn’t impressed. I suspect he was listening outside the door.”

I go quiet and allow the memories of that day to return.

“He came into the room and showed me what to do.”

“Showed you what to do?” Tamara screws her nose up in disgust at the meaning behind my statement.

“He led the girl to the bed. Explained what her breasts and pussy were before flipping her over and spreading her bum cheeks to show me her asshole. Then he lowered his trousers and proceeded to show me how to put a dick in each of those places, plus her mouth, in order to get myself off. I always remember her scream of pain when he pushed into her ass dry.”

Tamara shifts closer to me on the bed. Her eyes are filled with watery tears.

“He did that? In front of you? Did the woman not protest?”

I shake my head. “She was paid to take whatever we gave to her. My father would have paid her a good amount, so she had no choice but to accept it. As for me, it was the way of the world I grew up in…silence for long periods, then my father would think of a magical way to cure his son, and I’d be thrown into some strange new situation.”

“Strange new situation!” Tamara slams her fist into the bed. “This was abuse! It shouldn’t have been allowed. Not just to the woman but to you as well. What type of father near enough rapes a woman in front of his sixteen-year-old son to teach him about sex?”

I can’t help but let out a wry chuckle, seeing her anger at the injustice of the situation I’d found myself in. To her, it’s abhorrent, but to me, it was normal.

“What happened after your father had finished with the girl?”

“I don’t think I should talk about this anymore.” I can no longer look at the woman seated mere millimeters away from me on the bed.

“I have to know…please.”

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