John was deep in thought all the way home. He'd told Mila he loved her, but did he? He started to smile, and a warm feeling spread through his whole body. God yes. She was his world. So why was the whole sex thing so hard? The warm feeling disappeared as his mother's face drifted into his thoughts. Yeah, he didn't need a degree in psychology to explain that. Mila knew everything about him – except what things were like between his mother and him. He'd never found the words to tell her, to tell anyone. How much he depended on her, how scary she could be, how much he loved her, how cold she could get. The things she'd told him, shown him – done to him. The things he'd seen her do. He squared his shoulders. Now how to get himself in the right mindset to make love to his girlfriend before she'd give up on him? The idea of losing her was so painful he didn't even want to consider the possibility. He had to pull this off, and soon. Mila was pretty, and she was popular. She wouldn't have to look far if she decided she'd had it with him. He briefly closed his eyes when he realized he was almost home. He took a deep breath and opened the door to the club, which was starting to buzz with life at this time of night. His mother's hookers and some of the regulars nodded to him as he made his way to their apartment. Elaine was nowhere in sight, and there was a brief moment of relief. She was probably working. But then he ran into her on the way to his room. She knew him well enough to see that something was up the moment she laid eyes on him. Crap. She leaned one hip against the wall of the hallway, arms crossed over her chest.
"John?"
"Hello mother."
He tried to walk past her and straight to his room but she blocked the way.
"What's up, son?"
She sounded calm, genuinely interested. He thought about what to say to throw her off the track, but quickly gave it up. She'd know anyway. He sighed.
"It's Mila."
Elaine raised an eyebrow.
"Should we have this conversation somewhere other than the hallway?"
He huffed out a laugh.
"Probably."
Elaine opened the door to his room and held it open for him. Great. He'd have to talk about not sleeping with his girlfriend with his mother. He plopped down on his bed while his mother remained standing. Somehow he got the impression she did that on purpose.
"So, what about Mila?"
He decided he'd make this as quick – and hopefully painless – as possible. There was no use in trying to get out of it anyway.
"She wants us to have sex", he said bluntly.
Elaine's eyebrows went up again.
"Excuse me?"
He gave her a surprised look. Could she really have anything against that?
She looked honestly confused.
"I thought you two had been at it for weeks!"
"Huh? No!"
"Huh", Elaine echoed. John noticed how strange confusion looked on his always confident mother, but then she pulled herself together.
"So Mila wants sex."
"Mhm."
"And?"
"And – I don't."
"Excuse me?!", she said again, irritation seeping into her voice.
"Well, not yet. I – I guess I'm just not there yet."
He flinched a little when he remembered saying the same thing to Mila earlier that night.
Elaine straightened.
"I'll say this exactly once, John. Your girlfriend expects you to perform, and you will. I might not be much of a fan of hers but she obviously has needs and she knows what she wants. So deliver."
John wasn't even surprised. His mother was a feminist brothel owner, running a club that exclusively served female clients. Women's pleasure was her profession as well as her calling. Men didn't play much of a role in her life other than employing them for her straight clients. Someone wanted John – she expected him to comply. End of story.
"It's not like I don't want to", he said.
"But?"
But I keep seeing you, he thought. Absolutely impossible to say that.
She moved closer.
"Do you feel like you need advice?"
Oh God no.
"Or -" she ran a hand down his chest, "motivation?"
Please God no. He tensed and she noticed it.
"I think I know what you need, son."
He just looked up at her, utterly terrified at what she might have in mind, paralyzed with the knowledge that there was no telling her 'no', that she'd do with him and to him what she wanted anyway, that he didn't have a say in it. Strange enough, she probably really believed that she was helping him, even when all he wanted to do was run from her. But where could he have gone? He tried to calm down as much as he could. She gently touched his cheek.
"Close your eyes, son."
Her voice was unusually soft but it scared him anyway. When he didn't obey immediately she framed his face with both hands, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones.
"Close" - she kissed him - "your eyes."
Still gentle, but there was steel underneath it. So he did.
"I want you to imagine Mila. Picture her. The way she looks at you. Her hands on your skin. Her mouth."
John felt sick to his stomach, holding his breath, afraid she'd act out what she was talking about, but she didn't. Instead he felt something small and smooth touch his lips.
"Open."
After a moment's hesitation he did. Elaine slipped a small pill into his mouth, brushing her thumb over his lower lip.
"Swallow."
His heart raced, but he obeyed again.
"They call it Horizon. It enhances your imagination. It's like planning a dream, a fantasy. You picture what you'd like to experience, and it feels completely real. You can use it to relax, or to prepare for a situation – or simply to have fun."
John felt a shiver run over his skin, and then there was Mila. She leaned close, gently running soft small hands over his body. He heard her laugh, carefree, like she sometimes did when they were at the beach. He could feel the warm sand, the sun caressing his skin, and then there was Mila's breath and the softest touch of her lips against his collarbone. His chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the door of his room open and close, and then he was kissing Mila. Her slender body pressed against him. Her mouth wandering lower. God this felt good. He wanted her, and she wanted him, and he simply gave in.
When he opened his eyes his pants were open and his mouth felt dry. On his bed side table he found an orange pill and a note in his mother's handwriting:
"Hope you had fun. Take this. It's what they call the 'Anchor'. You should always balance Horizon with an Anchor."
John sat on his bed for a long time, rolling the little orange pill between his thumb and fingers, before he finally got up, poured himself a glass of water and downed the pill. He didn't feel anything. There was a faintly metallic taste, but nothing happened.
A few days later John knocked on the door to his mother's study, carrying a tray with three glasses. At her call he entered. Elaine was sitting behind her desk. On the other side were two women in their thirties, seated in arm chairs, looking relaxed. They both looked up and smiled at him and then at each other. One of them, her dark hair cut short and her bright blue eyes sparkling, sat a little straighter.
"Who's the beauty?"
"That's my son, John."
"That's John?! The boy has grown! Last time I saw him he was all sweet innocence - but good Lord he's developed his father's cheekbones!""
John almost dropped the tray. He took a breath, put it down on the desk and passed the glasses to the ladies. Elaine cleared her throat.
"John's father isn't with us anymore."
"Oh. That's a shame."
The client's eyes traveled down John's body.
"Anything else he inherited from his father?"
"Oh yeah."
"So - did you introduce him to the business yet?"
"Are you interested?"
"Mother?! You've got to be kidding me!"
Elaine was on her feet and rounded the desk faster than John had ever seen her move. She backed him into the wall, closed one hand around his balls and squeezed. Tears shot to his eyes and he gasped, but she didn't allow him to speak.
"You don't get to talk to me in that tone, especially not in front of a client, do you understand me?", she hissed.
He nodded, his face a grimace of pain.
"I can't hear you."
"Yes, mother, I understand", he whimpered, and she let go.
"This is what puts bread on our table. It's about damn time you start contributing."
The blond client made a small sound, drawing Elaine's attention to her.
"How much would it cost us to have him to ourselves tonight?"
Elaine turned towards her clients.
"I'm sure we can work something out."
John thought the floor had dropped from under his feet.
"Please, mother", he whispered, low enough for the clients not to catch it. "Please don't."
She turned back to him, a smile on her face.
"Tell you what. Even split. I negotiate for you. You get 50%."
It wasn't a suggestion, and John knew it. She pulled him close.
"It might even help with your little Mila problem. You need experience", she murmured against his ear and kissed his cheek.
