Chapter 38

"I knew you were my only chance to get out of that awful house alive," Desi said as we jetted home. "My uncle wanted everyone he knew to watch him tear my hymen. If he only knew how wrong he was ... I would love to see his face when he finds out he's been out smarted, again.

"You saved me, Carl. How can I ever repay the risks you took to help me escape? Even if I love you until I die, I'll still owe you, because none of the days that I live from today on, would have been possible if you didn't risk your life to save me." She was still clingy. When we took our seats, after using the bathroom, Desi wedged herself in beside me on the loveseat. We cuddled, hugged, kissed, and generally played horny teenager, until Desi decided to talk.

"My mother died when I was born. My father was climbing the ladder of criminal enterprise and never had time for me. That was partly because my grandfather claimed me as his mistress, as soon as I came of age, which for him meant when I began to bleed.

"He died from an overdose of bullets."

Desi looked at me with such an expression of conviction, and said, "You were very good to me a little while ago. I feel like it is dishonest for you not to know these things about me, before you get too far in to get out.

"My father sent me away soon after my grandfather was killed. He gave very clear instructions that I was to be educated, protected, and kept innocent. The castle didn't even have a TV. That was how strictly my father's orders were followed.

"Somehow Ivan, one of my father's drivers, found out how my father intended to use me and decided to get a head start on the fun. He snuck into my room at night, and would hold me, telling stories of the old days and people I never knew.

"He was very tall, but thin. I doubt Ivan weighed more than I do now. His hair was thick and brown, and his body was hard like it was made up of steel coils wrapped over metal beams.

"He loved to stroke my hair and pet my back and bottom, but never in a sexual way. He seemed to genuinely care for me, and because he was the only one who did, I looked forward to him coming to my bed every night.

"Ivan was the picture of patience. He stroked my back for weeks before putting his hands under my nightgown and stroking my bare skin. By then I craved the intimate touch, and missed it when he snuck back out. When Ivan pulled me into a hug, he made me feel safe, and warm. When you are thirteen and a half, and no one so much as patted your head, any touch was welcome.

"One night Ivan's hand strayed down my back and touched my bottom. I twitched and he drew his hand away instantly. It felt good to be touched ... back there, and I took his hand and pulled it back, telling him, 'I'm sorry I jerked. Please hold me like you were.'

"After that things moved quicker. By the time I turned fourteen and started to bleed, Ivan would regularly stroke me to climax. I learned to come quickly, and later, to make Ivan come. His eruptions were carefully captured in paper towels, because we feared what the laundress might say if they found evidence of our trysts.

"One night Ivan kissed me between my legs, and I went off like rocket. The pleasure was so intense that Ivan had to cover my mouth with his hand to keep my cries from bringing the guards.

"After discovering how delicious sex could be, I was insatiable. Ivan went from using his mouth, to tapping my clitoris with the head of his penis, until I went off, then he would rub the head – hard – against my clitoris until he came all over my tummy and chest.

"The first time his semen shot up onto my breasts, Ivan crawled up and licked me clean. Watching him collect his own spend made me come without being touched. That night Ivan placed himself between my lips and urged me to taste him. I tried to turn away, but he held my head and pressed until I opened to allow him in.

"When he came, I cried. It was so ... dirty ... being forced to swallow him like that. Ivan knew he went too far. Afraid of what might happen if I told on him, Ivan kissed me until he licked out all his come, and then shoved himself in between my legs and broke my hymen.

"It hurt something fierce. I cried out, but Ivan had his mouth over mine, not giving me any chance to call out for help. He raped me like a mad man, and suddenly I was coming like a common whore, weeping, slamming into him, demanding more, and deeper. He tried to stay up with me, but I rutted like a prostitute and came like a pro.

"Ivan's eruption spilled inside me, and then he realized he might have gotten me pregnant. That terrified him most of all.

"After that, Ivan always used condoms, and when I bled, a week later, he celebrated by turning me over and hurting m ... back there..." She was silent for a little while, reliving that awful time in her life.

" ... At least he used lubricant before ripping me apart. I passed out from the pain. I don't know why he had to hurt me to feel good. I was so in love, I would have gladly given him those things, and we could have enjoyed the together.

"I woke up later with a paper towel jammed inside me ... both places ... to catch his come and my blood. When I finally managed to get it out, the paper towel was covered with blood. For three days I stayed in bed, pretending to have the flu, and waited for the soreness and bleeding to go away.

"I never heard from Ivan again.

"My father eventually sent another driver to take his place, and I heard from the servants that Ivan was sent to America to a place named Chicago, to watch over my father's gambling houses there. My life was even more of a prison after Ivan went away. Now that I was bleeding, I was old enough to be taken by my father, and every day I lived in fear of what vengeance he would wreak against me when he discovered my virginity was gone." She shivered, thinking about the tortures her father would unleash against her.

"That was when my father went to prison. He was gone for eight years, and all that time I lived in a beautiful prison of my father's making.

Desi stopped talking when she mentioned America. It didn't take Rhodes Scholar to see that something about Ivan still haunted, frightened, and attracted her. Desi was partly ashamed and partly desirous where Ivan was concerned, and it was my job to let her talk when she felt like it and remain silent when that was best.