Page 32 of The Ties We Break

“When I went back home after the school reported me, they told us we would be subject to a social care assessment, who would look at every area of my life and the people in it. They also said that charges would be brought if anything illegal was discovered. Then they left me alone in that house. Bishop was furious. After kicking the shit out of Mum for stepping in front of me to protect me—probably for the first time in her life—Bishop then turned his anger on me. He cornered me in my room and beat me badly with a belt. I managed to escape and ran from my room, crying out for help, but it fell on deaf ears. I ended up in the kitchen, Mum was still nowhere to be found in the other rooms, and that’s when I saw her unconscious on the kitchen floor. He must have gone after her more when I ran to my room. Blood was pouring from her head, and she wasn’t moving. I thought she was dead. As Bishop charged into the kitchen looking for me, I grabbed the first thing I found. A large knife that was on the countertop, and I ran toward him.

“At first, I didn’t realise I’d stabbed him, only that he was no longer moving or trying to hit me, so it was a win. I looked up and saw he had blood gushing out of his mouth, and he tried to grasp the knife. As I looked at it, instinctively, I pulled it out, not wanting him to get his hands on it. Blood began to spurt everywhere, coating me and my clothes. Then, as I stood there looking at the bloody knife, it finally occurred to me that this was my chance. My one chance to be free from him for good, and so with no fear or regrets, I began stabbing him frantically until he dropped to the floor. Once he was finally on the floor, I kept stabbing until I had no more energy left. I then ran to the phone. I asked them to send an ambulance to help my mum and told them to send the police for me. In the end, there were over fifty stab wounds that I was responsible for.

“When people found out the whole story, about the past violence and the social care referral, they agreed not to charge me as long as I went to a summer camp for delinquent youths with anger issues. As part of that camp, we all spent a night in jail, and it was the scariest thing I ever did. Mum survived and has regularly tried to make contact, claiming to be clean, but I have turned her down every time. She is a painful link to the person I have tried very hard not to be.

“Growing up, I still made some bad life choices that resulted in me spending a bit of time in jail while I was being investigated. Once the charges were dropped and I was free, but I still hated feeling confined. So, I’ve spent every day since then trying to stay on the right side of the law, but knowing that no matter what happens, I still took a life. He may not have deserved to live after what he did to my mum and me, but that wasn’t my choice. That is what makes me a bad person. I agreed to teach you, and I have less than one week left, so I will honour my promise. But we need to limit it to just sex. None of this ‘friends or more’ stuff that will cloud the waters. Do you agree?”

I finally look up from my pacing and see the fiery look in Belle’s eyes. It’s that expression that I always love to see. The one I have seen growing more and more since we started our sex lessons, for want of a better word. I hate causing her pain, but it’s better to do it now before she gets further involved.

“No, I don’t agree. I don’t think what you did makes you a bad man. I think it makes you a terrified little boy. Yes, you made mistakes as a teenager, but without any kind of support or role model, I’m impressed you haven’t turned out worse. At this point, I think the only person you are trying to convince is yourself. You need to believe you're a bad man so you can push me away ‘for my own good’, which we both know is bollocks. You are starting to develop feelings for me, the same way I am you, and it scares the shit out of you. Yes, we are in the asscrack of all situations, and I agree that I can’t see a good resolution at the moment, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I’m not afraid of possibly getting my heart broken because what you have given me so far has been worth it. So yes, I will continue having lessons, and we can cut all other contact. But don’t you dare think you are doing this for me because you aren’t. You are doing it for you because you're too much of a coward to face whatever this is between us.”

As she finishes her speech, she grabs some sweatpants of mine off the floor and pulls them on as best she can, given that they drown her. She rolls the top over until they fit a bit better, then wastes no time tossing all her things back in her bag before throwing it over her shoulder and heading for the door. How the fuck did I manage to ruin such a great morning this fucking badly? I really am a twatwaffle.

Just as she reaches the door, she turns her head, and I catch a glimpse of the tears falling down her face, the ones she had tried to hide from me. “Send me a text when you next need me to be at the club. Thanks for a nice night. Bye, Declan.” Her soft, shaky words are like an arrow straight to my heart. The way she said it and the tenderness as she said my name, I can’t help but feel like that was her way of saying goodbye.

As my already damaged heart begins to shatter into a million pieces, I can’t help but think I may have just ruined the best thing I’ve ever had going for me. What’s worse is I still have to put on a professional face and engage in more sexual acts with her to work through the last things on the list.

Fuck, I’m an eejit. What the hell am I going to do?

The next few days pass by in a blur, and I don’t hear a word from Declan. My heart aches for him, and I miss him so much. Even though it’s only been a couple of weeks, we have practically spent every day with each other. We would talk all the time or text when the other was busy. Then there was the sex and the experimenting, which was fucking indescribable. I have almost got my list sorted for the auction. I’ve crossed off things like whipping with canes or belts. I could tolerate spanking with a hand or paddle, and I quite liked flogging, but I don’t want to try anything harder. I also noted that I would be okay with nipple clamps in their most basic format, but I’m not too fond of ones that tighten or that you can add weights to, and I also don’t want them used anywhere else on my body. The thought of those things clamping to my pussy lips sends a shiver down my spine.

Looking at the list, I think we probably have one or two more lessons, depending on how much Declan can fit into one session, or how much I can cope with in one go. As the days go on and we have no contact, I feel grateful that I don’t have much more to learn, as we’re running out of time. I’ve spent the last few days determined not to cave and text him first. He’s the one who went and ruined everything, insisting on us just being professionals, so he can be the one to make contact.

Sian bursts through my bedroom door, catching me off guard. I’ve been holed up here for the last couple of days, and Sian has come by several times to support me. The first day we mourned together; we watched soppy movies, ate our body weight in ice cream, and Sian held me as I cried whilst telling her all about my feelings for Declan. The next day she tried to talk me into going out, eventually bringing me food when I refused. However, yesterday she went for the tough love approach, even going as far as threatening to bring her mum over to sort me out. So, I was surprised when she turned up alone today.

“Right, no arguments or discussions. We are going out tonight. The college is having a graduation get-together, which of course we are not going to. But, afterwards, they are all going to a club downtown to dance, drink, and maybe do a bit of karaoke. We are going. No ifs, no buts, and absolutely no fucking excuses. You are not moping for a second longer. He isn't worth it. Let’s go test out your whole new confidence. I want you to get dressed, remove all the hair from your nose down, and let’s get this pampering in session!” she squeals as she jumps on the bed, shaking my shoulders in excitement. I can’t help but smile. She’s right; we do deserve to celebrate our graduation. So, despite not feeling totally up to it, I agree to let her pluck and pamper me until I’m ready for what the night has to hold.

* * *

Sian spendsseveral hours getting us both ready, but as I look at myself in the mirror, I’m blown away by how I look. I would never have chosen this dress, but it suits me very well. It's a sunflower yellow-coloured dress that starts with a sweetheart neckline to show off my boobs, and the top is a corset that pulls in my waist, giving me the perfect hourglass figure. The skirt of the dress has ruffles and stops just above my knee. Given the way it flows, and the layer of tulle underneath that gives it added poof, if this dress dipped all the way to the floor, it would be a beautiful ball gown. Even clipped to my knees, it feels lovely. I can’t help spinning in the dress and watching as it flows around me.

Sian finishes off the look by adding a red bow around the centre of the dress and some red stiletto shoes that I’m not sure I can walk in. My hair is pulled away from my face using some clips and falls around my shoulders in curly waves. Even though it’s a simple design, it's the most stunning my hair has ever looked. Combined with the light makeup I agreed to wear and the bright red lipstick Sian insisted on, I can’t deny that I feel incredible.

As I do one more twirl and smile in the mirror, I catch a glimpse of my phone, and my heart starts to drop. My instinct is to show Declan how I look in this dress, but it dawns on me that I can’t. Sadness envelopes me again, and Sian must have seen the change in my expression because she quickly thrusts a shot of tequila into my hand. I have already done two, as well as drinking a Jack Daniels and Coke. We haven’t even left the house yet, and I’m tipsy. Thankfully, drowning my sorrows is precisely what I’m aiming for.

Grabbing my phone and my bag, we run downstairs to the taxi, and I send a thank you to whoever is listening that my dad isn’t here. I know I should be worried that I haven’t seen him for a few days, but I will deal with that after tonight. Tonight will be a drama-free zone.

* * *

Walking into the club,the loud pounding bass vibrates from the floor up through my body, and it’s like all my nerve endings are humming. We get to the club just after ten, and already it’s full of people. Pushing our way through to the bar, I stand patiently waiting for our turn, but Sian isn’t one for waiting.

She’s dressed in a skin-tight, green body-con dress that shows off every curve of her body. So much so that she had to forego wearing any underwear to avoid seeing panty lines. So, when she leans over the bar to get the barman's attention, and her dress rides up to her upper thighs, I stand behind her to do my best to shield her modesty. Luckily, she gets the barman’s attention quickly, or more accurately, the fact her tits were practically hanging out did. I grab my glass of Jack from him while Sian has a gin and tonic, and we both get two tequila shots each. It’s better to stock up than face the bar queue again. Thanking the barman, we take our drinks and find a table.

After a few minutes of looking around, Sian heads toward the back wall, where a few tables are dotted around, and the walls are lined with big booths, but they were all full the last time I looked. Sian heads straight for the big circular corner booth currently occupied by a couple of guys in the same year as us. I don’t know their names, and I’m not even sure Sian does, but that doesn't matter to her. Seconds after making her introduction, with her tits on full display, they invite us to sit with them.

The boy I end up sitting next to spends more time talking to my tits than me, but Sian seems very interested in the muscular guy sitting at her side. I waste no time in getting my drinks down, enjoying the burn that slithers down my throat, and the more the alcohol hits me, the more I feel alive. The music is infectious, and I can’t help but sway or move along to the beat, even as I stay seated. As I contemplate getting up and going to the dance floor, I feel my phone vibrate in my bag.

Dec: Come over to the club tonight around 10 pm.

Dec: Where are you? You are never late. You know the rules.

Dec: I thought you wanted to carry on learning. Ignoring me isn’t exactly behaving like an adult, like you told me to do.

Dec: I get you are mad at me, but please don't ignore me. We have maybe two more sessions together, and I will get out of your life for good, I promise. But I have to make sure you are safe at the auction.

I know I need to take a second to see the good parts of the messages, but my alcohol-soaked brain is hyper-focused on the negative aspects. Deciding I probably won't be able to text to get my message across, I ring him. As it rings, I hope like hell I get his voicemail, which thankfully, I do.

“How fucking dare you text me demanding I come over after you’ve ignored me for the last couple of days. Believe it or not, I actually have a life outside of you. I didn’t answer because I’m in the middle of Pavs, the club downtown, doing shots with Sian and some guys from college. Tonight is our graduation party, and we are partying hard to celebrate. I want to have my final lessons with you, but you have to have the decency at least to check that I’m available before you make demands,” I slur down the phone at Declan, and just as I’m about to hang up, a familiar voice walks up to the table and sits down beside me, completely uninvited.

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