Chapter 5

Love, they say, is a many splendored thing. It features in a million songs and books and plays and movies. But what about friendship?

"Stop, honey, it's all right," the voice said. "Everything is fine, it was just sex. You did wonderful."

Juliana gasped. Then she broke down again, burying her face deeper into the woman holding her.

The two of them sat like that for quite a while after the men left. Their faces were a mess, as was their hair. They both reeked of the sperm that clung to their skin.

Juliana tried to squeeze words through her sobs.

"I ... I be-betrayed him," she said, after two failed starts. "He lies there all alone while I ... I..."

Her words drowned again in a sea of sobs.

"Betrayed," Ellis said. "Such a big word, honey. Who did you betray and how?"

Juliana sat up and stared at the older woman; her face was blotched and swollen.

"You ... don't know?" she asked.

"I know a lot." The woman smiled. "But I'm not sure what you mean." She took a tip of her smudged top and cleaned Juliana's mascara-stained cheeks. Then she covered the girl's nose with it.

"Sneeze," she said. "Clean yourself up, girl." Juliana did. "Now what is this about me not knowing?"

Juliana sat back on the sofa, pulling up her knees and cradling her legs.

"Can't say," she said, looking down. "It's too embarrassing." The woman laughed.

"Embarrassing," she repeated. "After what we just did?" She pulled Juliana back into her embrace.

"I know why I'm here," Juliana said. "But why are you?" When there was only silence for an answer, she looked up to Ellis. "This place is bad, isn't it?" she asked. It made the woman chuckle, although her face didn't join in. She sighed before speaking.

"I guess you could say that, in a way," she agreed. Juliana looked closer at her face. The woman must be older than she'd supposed earlier on; maybe in her forties. There were lines around her eyes and on her brow. They touched her and she felt an urge to kiss them. Then Ellis started talking.

"But bad or good are not the point, honey. We are bound to this place; all the women who come here have a debt to pay." 'All the women, ' Juliana mused. How many were there?

"I have been err ... visiting here for almost three years now," Ellis continued. "I don't live here; I come whenever they call me."

"Why?"

"Because of my mother," she said, looking away.

"My mother is a widow in her early sixties. Three years ago she fainted while we were shopping at the mall. I took her to the hospital. They needed a week to find out what her problem was. Then they told us it was a very rare neural syndrome that you could healthily live with for a long time. But you'd need regular shots of medicine, and that was the hang up." She fell silent.

"What was the hang up?" Juliana asked.

"She needs twelve injections a year, once every month, and they are two thousand dollars a piece." Juliana gasped.

"Two thousand," she whispered. Her hand automatically reached out to touch Ellis's face. The woman grabbed it and kissed the palm.

"Yes," she went on. "Twenty-four thousand a year. And because the disease was so rare, her insurance didn't cover it. She'd have to pay every penny."

Juliana started to connect the dots.

"Dr. Charrier..." she began. Ellis nodded.

Juliana hugged her.

"Three years," she whispered. "My God."

Ellis pulled herself free, forcing her face into a smile. "It isn't all bad," she said. "Lots of sex, no strings, huge variety, free health tests ... a sumptuous wardrobe and free dining and dancing on a regular basis. See?" she said, lifting the breast with the gold ring. "Free piercing, real gold – and a free tattoo." Turning, she showed it. "Could be worse for a forty-something mom, couldn't it? They even pay for the baby sitter."

"You have a child? Are you married?"

"Two; and divorced from a bastard who ran off and can't be found for child support, let alone alimony. I am a single mom and an only child. My mother only has her small widow's pension. We could never have paid for those damn injections." She stopped and stared. "Don't know how long this body will hold, however."

Juliana hugged her again and they kissed – there was some tongue, and then there was a lot of tongue. When they finally broke up, they both panted.

"Pheww," Ellis said. "Come on girl. Let's have a shower. We stink."

They went to Juliana's room and showered. Then they sat on the bed in bathrobes and towel turbans. Ellis filed her toenails.

"Now what about you, honey?" she asked, not looking up. Juliana didn't answer for a bit, faking interest in the glossy magazine she'd opened.

"Don't give me that nonsense about feeling embarrassed again," Ellis went on. "This is me, you know."

Although Juliana met the woman only a day ago, she knew she was right; she could be trusted. And even if she couldn't, Juliana needed to trust her – anyone.

"My husband," she started. "We just got married. He did have this stroke; a minor one they say, but he went into a coma." Ellis put away the file.

"They showed me these scans, you know," Juliana went on. "And they said the bleeding would be all right. But there was a tumor." She heard Ellis take in a sharp breath and felt her hand on her wrist. "It was a small one, the tumor. I couldn't even see it. They – you know, Dr. Fleming – said my husband could live to be eighty and never have a problem; but he could be just as well dead by tomorrow."

"Let me guess," Ellis said, sitting up. "They have to operate and the insurance doesn't cover it."

Juliana sighed, picking up Ellis's hand. She kissed its knuckles one by one.

"Dr. Fleming said it would be partly covered if the hospital did it cheaply. But he doubted they would be able to pull it off without complications. Then he mentioned Dr. Charrier..."

"Okay," Ellis said. "When will they operate and how long do you have to pay?"

"I don't know," Juliana said. "He has to get stronger first. And then ... I really don't know if I can do it." She started crying again.

"Stop that!" Ellis said. "Of course you can do it. It's only fucking sex, you pussy. He is your husband and he's dying, goddammit." The rude language stopped the sobbing.

"But," Juliana said. "But for me it isn't, you know?" "What isn't," Ellis wondered.

"The sex!" Juliana cried out. "For me there is no 'just sex.' I wasn't brought up like that. For me it's the ... the whole package, or nothing." Ellis sat back, watching the girl as if she were an alien species.

"How old are you, Juliana?" she asked.

"I know, I know!" Juliana wailed. "I am twenty, but I am from a farm in Iowa. My parents are born again Christians from the most conservative denomination. Just thinking of sex is a mortal sin. Liking sex is a shortcut to hell! I never knew anything about sex, did anything until I turned 18 and came to Chicago. I was 19 when I met my husband and all we did was kissing and feeling up. We married three months ago when I turned 20. Alec is 23. All he knows about sex is how to put his penis in my vagina with the lights out. At best it doesn't hurt."

Ellis's face twitched; she brought her hand to her mouth.

"Sorry," she said. "I really won't laugh, but this is too much. Two young people in America in 2014 and you tell me this?" She grabbed Juliana and pulled her close. "God, sweetie, you must be frightened to death!" Juliana pushed her away.

"No," she said, "and that's the really scary part – I'm not frightened. I am bewildered and hurt and nervous, but I'm not scared." She cupped the woman's face in both hands and held her eyes. "I know I should be," she went on. "But I'm not. Today I was more aroused than scared. I was upset, but fascinated – watching you, licking you. I was curious how it would be to handle that huge penis ... holding it, sucking on it, and ... having these feelings. That is how I betray my husband – by having these feelings I never had with him – and enjoying them. Do you understand?"

Ellis stared at the girl. She felt old, and very old memories returned to her – teenage thoughts, teenage angst. Then she shook her head no.

"Of course I understand, honey," she said, brushing strands of hair from Juliana's face. "And it makes me feel sorry to see you hurt like this. But you can't keep thinking this way – it will kill you; and most of all it will kill your husband. You are here to save his life, and if that means tossing your Christian upbringing to the wind, or your romantic notions of marriage – or your husband's vulnerable ego for that matter – you'll have to. There is no choice, really. You'll ruin everything."

The silence was deep and protracted.

"I knooow," Juliana whispered at last. "It is what Dr. Charrier keeps saying. I just have to." Ellis smiled.

"I don't think Charrier's motives are very pure, sweetie," she said. "But in your and my situation it is the only possible choice."

She once again embraced Juliana and they kissed. Their towels slid off as they sank to the bed. Ellis pushed her knee between Juliana's thighs and sawed her smooth skin over the girl's pussy. Juliana moaned.

"Shall I kiss your vagina again, like before?" she whispered into Ellis's ear. The woman moaned; then she sighed, sitting up.

"I call it my pussy, and I'd love to," she said. "But I have to leave and pick up my youngest." She slid off the bed and closed her robe. After collecting her things, she returned to Juliana and kissed her good bye.

"Be strong," she said, smiling. "I'll see you around. All the best for your poor husband."

Being treated as a mere object of lust goes against the very grain of feminism. And yet, after more than a century of fighting, even the brightest of women feel their body melt and their mind capitulate at the simplest insults of rude and senseless men.

The big table in the dining hall was set for a group. China and crystal sparkled on an expanse of white damask. When Juliana entered, people were standing around, glasses in hand. The men were of various ages, wearing tuxedos; the women were young and looking gorgeous. The evening gowns allowed generous amounts of bare skin that was covered with gold, silver and glittering stones. Juliana counted five men and four women; she was obviously bringing up the balance.

She had never been an easy mixer, not even at the simple country-do's back home. She knew she looked good in her silver gown, but felt embarrassed by how it displayed her body. The dress was cut comfortably high at the front, but hardly had a back. She'd protested when Mei forbade her to wear anything under it. Her nipples moved against the satin; it kept them tight all the time – and very visible. The sensation of her bare, slick crotch and thighs rubbing together made her blush constantly. It can be quite unsettling to feel this naked in public, even when you're dressed.

"Mrs. Austin! How very nice of you to come."

Dr. Charrier separated himself from a group of talking people. He smiled widely, carrying two glasses of bubbly wine of which he handed her one. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. It made the long, sparkling pendant in her ear sway and tingle. Mei had slicked her hair back to show off her neck and ears. After the Asian girl was done with her, she looked in a tall mirror. It was crazy, but her own reflection intimidated her. How could she look like that on the outside, and still feel so insecure inside – knees trembling, ankles wobbling on her towering platform shoes?

Back in the dining room she blinked and smiled, accepting the drink. She also let the doctor hold her elbow as he led her to the company.

Dr. Fleming was there, she saw, but not the man whose penis she'd sucked that afternoon. In the blur of names Charrier mentioned, she heard a few doctor titles, so she supposed this was about business. She smiled until her jaws hurt and reached out to touch fingers and receive kissing lips. Slightly dazed, she understood how actresses must feel, playing someone else.

Of the women she only knew the girl she'd seen being fucked on the dining table on her first evening – by the very man whose cock she'd sucked only hours ago. The girl again looked elegantly fragile in a white, tight strapless dress, blond curls dancing on her bare shoulders.

Melinda wasn't there. Maybe she was too pornographically sexy for the refined tastes of this snobbish company; Ellis wasn't there either. The three unknown women were tall and gracious; two of them could be twins – auburn hair in French braids, pastel gowns on tall, model-like frames, one salmon, one green, tasteful jewelry; they even had similar frozen smiles flashing perfect teeth. The last one was a butterscotch beauty, her black hair teased straight. She wore a white dress. It set off her skin, but it also exposed most of her breasts. Compared to the refined elegance all around, they looked almost too big. There was a balance, though, with her wide hips and abundant ass. It made her beauty earthy, and more easily accessible for Juliana. The girl just seemed ... nice.

"I'm Juliana, nice to meet you."

"Selena," the girl said. "Call me Silly." She laughed throatily. Her lips were soft and generous; her eyes sparkled in a bush of lashes. "I guess we all are."

Her answer confused Juliana.

"We all are what?"

"Silly." She laughed again.

"If you say so," Juliana said. "You are here with your husband?" The laughter stopped, then started again.

"You may not be silly, honey," the woman said. "You're funny."

A fiftyish man joined them. He carried two glasses of wine, handing one to Selena. His eyes went up and down Juliana's body; she felt more naked than ever. The man whistled.

"Who have we here?" he asked. "New I bet – Eugene keeping another pretty one all to himself. Typical! Hey, Eugene!" The man hollered over his shoulder to where Dr. Charrier had gone.

Juliana looked from him to the butterscotch girl, who just shrugged, amused.

The doctor joined them, laying a big hand on the shoulder of the fifty-something man.

"Justin," he said. "How can I help?"

"You devil, you!" the man exclaimed. "So you keep the juiciest bits to yourself, eh? Introduce me to her, you stingy bastard." Charrier chuckled. He moved over to Juliana and laid his thick arm around her waist, pulling her close. The heat of his hand radiated into her bare skin.

"Meet Mrs. Austin, Justin, and eat your dirty heart out" he said. He turned to Juliana and planted a wet kiss on her ear. "For yes, you greedy omnivore, this one is mine ... all mine." They high-fived like teenagers. Then the doctor turned his attention to Juliana again.

"Please make him jealous, honey," he said. "Show him what he's missing, the old goat. Get out of that dress."

The crash of breaking glass sent a hush through the group. All heads turned Juliana's way. Her face glowed like a peony. Her hands hung limp down her sides, the shattered champagne glass at her feet.

"Mrs. Austin, please."

The doctor's voice was hardly more than a whisper. Another voice was closer to her ear. She smelled the sweet perfume she'd noticed around the butterscotch girl.

"Don't be foolish," the voice hissed. "It's nothing." She felt a hand on her lower back. The dress's tightness yielded. Someone had opened the zipper.

Trembling, she brought her hands to her shoulders, pulling down the dress's top. The thin satin slithered past her hips and thighs until it rested on her feet – a tiny puddle of silver around her platform sandals. All eyes were on her as she lowered her arms, exposing her naked body.