I decided not to break this part up into shorter chapters like I normally do. TRIGGER WARNING again, I'm serious.
John was sitting in the shower. The hot water felt good, but it did little to calm his nerves. He'd had to sit down because he was shaking, and he was on the verge of tears. His mind was spinning, images flashing behind his closed eyes. Two beautiful women enjoying themselves. Using him. Teasing him, arousing him. Demanding pleasure. His first time had been a threesome, and money had changed hands. That thought was like bile in his mouth, disgusting and bitter. He hated those women for taking advantage of him, he hated his mother for making profit from it instead of protecting him – and most of all he hated himself for not standing up. Standing up to his mother, to those women. And most importantly - standing up for himself. He wasn't man enough to make love to his girl, but he could let himself be fucked by paying clients. Great. As if he hadn't been messed up enough before. The moment he heard the bathroom door open he started to cry. God please no.
"Did you do the job?"
Elaine's voice was neutral. Inquiring about her business interests. John swallowed and took a breath, trying to keep his voice from betraying the tears.
"Yes."
"Both clients satisfied?"
John remembered the look on their faces.
"You're young. You'll recover in no time."
He swallowed again, resting his head against the tiles.
"Yes, mother."
"Good! I'm proud of you!"
She did sound proud, almost cheerful.
"Money's on your desk. Spoil yourself a little."
The door opened and closed once more. John felt laughter bubble up beneath the tears, and he knew it was hysterical. Spoil himself. In his mother's world what had just happened to her teenage son was a reason to celebrate. And he lost it completely. The silent tears turned into a desperate sobbing that he hoped was drowned out by the sound of the running water because there was no way he would be able to make himself stop. He sat there for a very long time.
~o0o~
When Mila opened the door he hoped that she couldn't tell, but of course she could. She took one look at him and went pale.
"Oh my God, Johnny, what happened?"
"Can I just come in and stay the night? Please?"
Mila gave him a soft smile and took a step back.
"Sure."
They sat down on Mila's narrow bed, neither one saying anything. After a while John took off his shoes and lay down on his side, curled up, not looking at Mila. She reached out and touched his temple.
"Can you please talk to me? You're scaring me."
John's eyes flew up to hers and he sat up.
"No! Don't. I didn't mean -"
"Shh", she leaned in for a kiss, and he went stiff. Mila stopped and tilted her head. "What? Can't I kiss my boyfriend?"
John panicked. This was it. He'd either give her what she wanted or he'd be history.
The bitter taste was back. Deliver, his mother had said. He took a few shallow breaths, because somehow he couldn't breath properly, forced himself to relax and met his girlfriend's gentle mouth. This was Mila, he kept reminding himself. He loved her, he'd known her forever, and she loved him. She wanted him. She liked him. She would never do anything to harm him.
She drew back.
God please. I can't screw this up, I just can't. A tiny sound escaped John, and it horrified him. When he opened his eyes Mila was looking at him, her brows furrowed, her green eyes worried.
"John? Please? What's wrong?"
He pulled her close and held on to her as if his life depended on it.
"Can I not talk about it and still stay? Please?"
Mila thought her heart had just broken.
"Of course, silly. Whatever you want."
And for the first time in what felt like forever John really relaxed. He allowed himself to slump against Mila, and she held him, gently stroking the back of his neck above his shirt.
"Is there anything I can do?"
He shook his head. Then he inhaled.
"Actually, you're already doing it."
~o0o~
Mila woke up in the middle of the night because John was restless. Her bed was too small for two unless they cuddled together, and John didn't seem to like that. She moved away from him as much as the bed would allow, and he calmed down, his breathing evening out. It hurt, but she decided she couldn't help it right now, so she got up and left her room, settling down on the couch in the living room instead.
~o0o~
The next time Mila woke up it was to her mother looking down at her, an amused smile on her face.
"Is there a reason you are sleeping in the living room? Something wrong with your bed?"
"John", Mila murmured and buried her head in the cushions.
"Huh?"
Mila opened her eyes and looked at her mother. She sat up and said through a yawn:
"Late last night John showed up and I was really worried about him and he needed a place to stay but then my bed was too small so I moved out here."
Her mom chuckled at the amount of information, but then she turned serious.
"Did he say what was up?"
Mila shook her head.
"Do you think he's in some kind of trouble?"
"I don't know. He's been – weird recently. I mean, he's still cute and all but something's – off."
She didn't go on because she wasn't sure if she wanted to talk about John with her mom, and also because she didn't really know what to say. He wasn't very talkative these days. Her mom took a breath.
"OK. Why don't you go get him and I'll make breakfast. You two need to be in school in forty minutes."
John still didn't talk much during breakfast or on the way to school, and he went home straight after. Mila was getting more and more worried, but he kept assuring her that it had nothing to do with her. When he got home he sat down in the kitchen and waited for Joanna. He'd decided he'd take her up on the talking thing after he'd found a note from his mother that said she'd be home late. He really needed someone to talk to. He didn't have any idea what to say, but he felt like his chest would implode if he didn't. He still wasn't breathing right, and he'd had trouble focusing in school. When Joanna entered the kitchen he immediately felt better. He gave her a genuine smile and she returned it.
"Hey John, what's up?"
"Oh I thought I'd hang out here a little, see who comes by."
Joanna just smirked.
"I feel like hot chocolate. Want some?"
John nodded, and they didn't talk until Joanna had put two mugs down and sat. She took a sip and looked at John over the rim.
"So, school going OK?"
"Yup."
"How's Mila?"
"She's good."
Joanna sat back.
"Sweetie, what's up with you?"
He stared down at the table, absentmindedly playing with his mug.
"Do you remember my dad?"
When Joanna didn't react he looked up. She took another sip.
"Why...how come you're asking me that?"
"Someone – mentioned him."
"Really? Who?"
"Doesn't matter. They seemed to know him. But nobody ever talks about him, and I barely remember him."
John's voice had become more and more quiet. Joanna sighed.
"Your mother – Elaine doesn't want us to talk about him, John. I'm sorry."
"He's my dad!"
John hit the table, frustrated and confused. He took a breath. "Please?"
"What do you remember?"
"He took me to the beach once. Mother didn't like it. They fought about it when we got home."
Joanna closed her eyes for a moment.
"He used to work for her."
"My dad was a hooker?"
"Yeah."
John thought about that for a moment.
"Why did he leave?"
"I don't know, John. I never asked."
John drew up his feet and hugged his knees.
"It was because of me."
"No, sweetie, don't say that. I'm sure it had nothing to do with you."
"It did. I remember. I heard them. They were talking about me. He didn't like something she'd done, and she told him it wasn't any of his business. Soon after that he was gone."
Joanna thought about it, and even though she didn't like it she couldn't help but admit that it made sense. If John's dad had interfered with the kid's upbringing, with the way she was raising him - Elaine wouldn't have accepted that. She was a firm believer in the feminist theory that it takes 100 generations of boys raised without the influence of their fathers to create the new man.
"So he worked for her."
"Yes. She's always employed both men and women. She's always had straight and gay clients - well personally she's only ever had gay clients, but you know what I mean."
"She'd keep men and women around so every woman would 'find something she likes'", he quoted.
Joanna smiled.
"Yeah."
"Or girls." He paused. "Or boys."
Joanna froze.
"What did you just say?"
"Some of them like em young."
Joanna kept staring at him.
"John, what are you talking about?"
When he didn't go on she closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to remember the way some of Elaine's clients were looking at John. Please no.
"John, please talk to me. This is serious business."
"Some of mother's clients like to have me around."
Joanna felt sick all of a sudden.
"When", her throat was so dry she almost couldn't go on, "when did that start?"
"I don't remember."
Oh God. She squatted down in front of him and forced herself to ask:
"Are you telling me that Elaine's clients have been – "
John shook his head but didn't look at her. His voice was hushed.
"No. They never – she just kept me around. In the room. I'd – watch. She'd talk to me. Call me over, tell me to come closer. Sometimes she would touch me. Never the clients though."
Joanna waited for him to go on. When he did, she closed her eyes in pain.
"The touching started last night."
~o0o~
John woke up because he thought he'd heard a loud voice, but when he listened there was nothing. Maybe he'd dreamed it? Something about his parents fighting over him? He realized he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so he got up and sat at his desk. He still hadn't touched the money. Neither had he touched the pills his mother must have put next to it. Her idea of a reward, he thought with a bitter smile. Horizon and Anchor. She hadn't been very specific, but he vaguely remembered hearing or reading about the drugs. Apparently if you balanced them right they weren't addictive and didn't have any side effects. It felt like a really good idea all of a sudden. Forget this mess he was living in and create something good in his mind, something beautiful. Plus it would help him sleep. He downed both pills and went back to bed. Automatically slipping into his preferred sleeping position on his left side he closed his eyes and drew the blanket up over his shoulder.
Warmth. Sand, and waves, and the sun. There was nobody there with him, but that was OK. It was peaceful. And then he felt someone behind him, strong arms pulling him into an embrace, and it felt good! He felt protected and safe, and that person loved him and cared about him. He settled back, relaxing into those arms that didn't do anything but hold him. Secure, protected, safe. Loved. Whatever life might throw at him, the person holding him would be there to defend him. Help. He'd finally found help.
~o0o~
Joanna approached her boss, long time friend and part time lover with a serious look on her face.
"Elaine? Can we talk about John?"
"What did he do?"
"Nothing." She smiled a little. "He's a good kid, Elaine."
"So what is it?"
Joanna bit her lip, a nervous gesture that betrayed how tense she was.
"You know I respect your political beliefs, and I support the cause. I wouldn't still be here after all these years if I didn't."
"But?"
"But he's just a boy, Elaine."
Elaine's lips curled into a bitter half smile.
"He's just another damned man."
Joanna flinched.
"Why are we talking about him?", Elaine demanded, irritation in her voice.
"Because I'm worried. Is it true that you sometimes keep him around when you're working?"
Elaine lifted her chin.
"What if I do?"
"He's a kid, Elaine. Underage. I don't think he should be around the clients."
"I don't think that is any of your business."
"He's your son! It's not healthy. Who knows what it'll do to him."
"I know what I'm doing. You have to teach them young. I had a son for a reason. I kept him away from his father for a reason. He'll be one of the new men. One small but important step for the cause."
She drew a breath, reaching for Joanna. Her voice became softer.
„You know what my father is like. You know how he treats my mother, how he treats me. Hell, just remember the way he treats you! We must change that. It's worth it."
"It's child abuse, Elaine. Please! Raise him in the spirit of the cause, but please keep him away from the job while he's still so young."
Elaine paced for a moment, and then she stood straight, holding Joanna's eyes, challenging her.
"What if I don't?"
"Please!"
Elaine took a step closer, her posture an obvious threat.
"The authorities turn up on my door step, throw me in jail and put John in foster care? Is that what you're saying? That you'll go running to the police? Accuse me of child abuse?"
"No. It's just – please Elaine, he's your child! This can't be good. Please."
Elaine turned away.
"I strongly recommend you keep your worries to yourself, Joanna. I do not appreciate anyone interfering with the way I raise my son. Do I make myself clear?"
Elaine stood at the window overlooking the street when Joanna left the club. She watched her for a moment, and then she picked up her phone.
~o0o~
The next evening John overheard his mother talking to a client who was asking for Joanna. She wouldn't be around, Elaine told the woman, immediately making suggestions about who else she might like. John's throat constricted. Joanna wouldn't be around? What was that supposed to mean? And did his mother mean – never again? His heart beat sped up. God please no. It couldn't be. He needed her! He swallowed around the lump in his throat and took a shaky breath. He had to know. He waited for the client to leave his mother's study and knocked.
"Come in!"
John went in and closed the door, standing there with his heart beating in his throat. When Elaine looked up he asked:
"What's up with Joanna?"
His mother fixed him with a stare for a long moment and then went back to the papers in front of her.
"Not your business."
Dismissive, expecting him to leave it at that. He briefly closed his eyes. He was aware that he'd regret his next words, but he felt like he'd choke on them if he didn't ask. Another deep breath.
"Did you fire her? Just like you fired dad?"
Her head came up slowly and she stared at him with narrowed eyes, then stood and walked around her desk. Her eyes never left his – and then she slapped his face, hard, back handed, and then again with her palm. John barely flinched, simply taking the pain and the humiliation that he'd become used to.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to talk to me like that? Do I need to beat it into you? Again?!"
He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible even though he was terrified.
"What happened to Joanna?", he asked again.
His mother drew herself up to her full height, fixing him with a completely cold gaze. There was nothing in her brown eyes; not even anger.
"Someone", she said in a voice he didn't remember her using ever before, "has been exchanging information behind my back. That's a very dangerous thing to do. It's the kind of thing that has consequences."
John stared at her, unable to process what was happening. Was it possible that his mother had – done something to Joanna?!
She moved in.
"Dangerous, and stupid."
Her hand closed around his throat. She was strong, and he was frozen stiff with panic. She fixed him with a stare, her face inches away from his.
"It will", she squeezed, "not happen again."
She held him there for an endless moment, and when she let go he desperately fought for air, forcing it into his lungs past his aching throat.
"Do you understand me, John?"
He nodded, unable to speak.
"Take your shirt off and turn", she ordered, and he did, gripping the edge of the table with both hands, knowing full well what was coming. She used a riding crop and he knew why she'd picked it. This wasn't her punishing him for mouthing off. This was about domination. She was beating him into submission, aiming to break him. And she wouldn't stop until she'd gotten him there. His back was on fire and his face was wet with tears when she stopped. For one blissful moment he thought it was over, but then she reached for his belt buckle and pushed his jeans to his ankles.
He hung his head and whispered:
"Please, mother."
"Fuck you, John. I am sick and tired of having to teach you respect. Bend over."
"Please", he sobbed again, but it only made her angrier, and the crop came down on his butt and thighs again and again until his knees gave way. She grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look at her.
"Did you understand the lesson, son?", she hissed between clenched teeth, and he nodded, making himself say it out loud because he knew that was what she was waiting for. She dropped him, and then she threw the crop on the floor next to him.
"Get this cleaned", she said, voice dripping with disgust, and left the room.
~o0o~
John fled. He locked his door and curled up on the floor, shaking and in tears, his whole body on fire and his mind racing. Joanna. What had his mother done to her? Would she – was Elaine capable of murder? He tried to shake off the idea, but if he was honest with himself – she probably was. It started feeling like a fact, a horrible, terrifying truth. Joanna was dead. She was dead because of him. Because she'd tried to help him. She died because he couldn't keep his mouth shut, because he hadn't been able to deal with his shit on his own. He'd been weak, and it had gotten a woman killed. He tried to evoke the Horizon fantasy – a Morgana they called it – again, the one where he was being held, but without the drug and with his mind in turmoil it didn't work. He desperately wanted to talk to Mila, spill his guts to her, get it all off his chest, but he realized he couldn't. Nobody could ever know. He had learned that lesson alright. But he wanted to see her, be around her, have her hold him – and he couldn't even have that. There was no way he could have hidden the welts from her. He was utterly alone, with nobody to protect him from his mother. He felt a bitter, hysterical laughter rise. He shouldn't have to be protected from his own mother, but it was true. She was dangerous, she was cruel, and there was nothing he could do. He'd never raised a hand against her. All he'd ever done was love her, trying so hard to make her love him, to avoid upsetting her, and it just wouldn't work. He'd never been good enough.
~o0o~
John avoided being alone with Mila until he was sure she could no longer see what his mother had done to him. He could tell it worried her, but she didn't say anything. When he finally suggested a day at the beach she beamed at him, relief pouring off of her in waves. It turned out to be a good day, both of them relaxed and happy to be together. They walked home – Mila's home – holding hands, and at her door she turned, looking at him with serious eyes.
"I'd really like you to stay, John", she said, her voice soft, her eyes pleading, expectant. John's gut clenched. This was it. He managed a smile, gave her a little bow, and his voice sounded almost smug:
"Your wish is my command."
She chuckled and melted against him, warm, soft, gentle. This was Mila. She was no threat. She loved him, and she wanted to be with him. They made it to her room without running into a single family member, which was a small miracle. Mila ran her hands down John's chest and stomach and up again, pushing up his shirt. He lifted his arms and she pulled it over his head, placing kisses against his neck, humming against his throat. He smiled and kissed her hair – which was a bright shade of blue at the moment. She reached for his belt, looking at him with a sweet smile that was equal parts mischief and insecurity. And he froze. He hated himself for it and tried to cover it up by wrapping his arms around her, but of course she'd noticed. The smile fell from her face.
"What is it, John? Please talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Yeah right. As if. I have my mother stuck in my head, and what she does to me, oh and the two clients I lost my virginity to. As if he could tell her that. He cleared his throat and took a step back.
"I'll be right back", he murmured. "Don't go anywhere."
He slipped out of her room and into the bathroom, grateful for the atypical absence of Mila's family. Locking the door behind himself he leaned against it for a moment, and then he pulled two pills out of his pocket. If he managed to evoke a "blank Morgana", that should do the trick. No emotions, no memories, none of his issues interfering with the moment. He'd have to focus, and he probably wouldn't feel much, but his body should respond just fine. He would be able to give Mila what she wanted, and he wouldn't lose her. And it might even be nice for him. At least he'd get to snuggle up to her afterward, and she'd be happy. He swallowed both pills and closed his eyes, evoking the picture of an empty white room. It felt a little dull, but quiet and safe. He could do this.
~o0o~
Over the next few months John got used to the helpful little pills – the only problem was that Anchor was way more expensive than Horizon and he couldn't always afford both. He tried to cut back on it, only using it when things got too much to bear. Luckily Mila was a sweetheart, and he started actually enjoying being with her. It felt good, and he finally let himself relax into her touches. He avoided being home as much as he could, spending as much time as possible with Mila and her family, and things looked a little brighter.
Until a few days after his 15th birthday Elaine cornered him when he had just been about to leave the house.
"Where do you think you're going?", she said, but her voice sounded more playful than stern. It confused him. She didn't wait for him to answer. "We haven't been spending any time together recently", she said, softly touching his cheek. He swallowed.
"How about we spend tomorrow evening together, and you let me see Mila tonight?"
Elaine chuckled.
"Sweet. Trying to negotiate. That's my son!"
Without warning she slapped his face.
"But."
Another slap.
"Never try to negotiate if you don't have any leverage."
His heart sank. He knew he wouldn't leave the house any time soon, and he was proven correct when Elaine took his hand and led him towards one of her business bedrooms. He was relieved to find it empty. Whatever she had in mind, at least there would be no clients.
Elaine closed and locked the door, the unmistakable sign that she didn't want to be disturbed. Her people would assume that she was working. Which was true. This was a crucial moment in her relationship with her son, maybe the crucial moment. This would break him, and afterward he'd either be useless or perfect.
She was tense, excited, even a little nervous. Taking a deep, calming breath she turned towards him. And how beautiful he was! All sharpening angles and awakening masculinity, but still slender enough, almost frail. She'd have to make sure he didn't gain too much muscle. His features had sharpened over the last year, losing the innocent, almost angelic sweetness he'd had as a young child. Irresistible. She would make a fortune with him if she played it right. More and more of her clients were licking their lips already, pushing her to put him to work.
She took another breath and smiled at her stunning young son.
"Come on, let's play!"
Touching a familiar blue pill to his full lips she said softly:
"Open."
Oh how she loved it when he obeyed her without hesitation. His blue eyes looked almost turquoise. He swallowed the Horizon and didn't even ask about an Anchor. Brave little guy.
"Close your eyes", she murmured, and again he obeyed. The trade mark shiver ran over him, and his body relaxed, indicating his mind was ready to develop the Morgana, open for suggestion.
"Keep your eyes closed. Imagine Mila. She's undressing you. She wants you, and you want her. You long for her touch, you can't wait to be naked before her eyes."
His mother's voice faded to a background noise, like the rustling of leaves or the murmur of waves. He was looking at his girlfriend, cheeky smile, bright red hair, sparkling green eyes. She opened his belt and stroked him through his jeans. He let out a soft moan. He wanted to be free, to be inside her, wanted her to take him inside. Warm, wet, tight. She kept stroking him, and he started panting. She pushed him to his knees. He looked up at her, beautiful, strong, the way he'd always wanted her to be. He loved being at her feet, worshiping her, pleasing her. His jeans just disappeared.
"I love that you're naked underneath", she purred.
"My mother trained me that way", he said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.
"You're a good son. Obedient."
Mila slipped her dress over her head, fully naked in an instant. She stood close, her hips level with his face. He inhaled and let out a small moan, and then he kissed her.
"You wanna taste me?"
"God yes!"
Looking up at Mila straddling him, rolling her hips, her eyes closed. She opened them and looked at him.
They were chocolate brown.
Her face morphed into Elaine's.
John's eyes flew open and he screamed in horror, throwing her off of him, and then the world went black.
~o0o~
When he woke up he felt confused. What a weird dream that had been. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't in his bed, wasn't in his room. And then he recognized the room, and he felt sick all of a sudden. He looked up – and froze. He couldn't stop staring at the lifeless body on the floor in a pool of blood, the base of her skull cracked where it had hit the edge of a heavy table. He tried to remember what had happened. His mother had brought him there, forced a Morgana on him – how much of what he remembered had been in his head – and how much had been real? There was cold sweat on his face and running down his back. He was naked, and so was she. And she wasn't breathing, he was almost sure of that. He couldn't remember – she'd been close, and then – had he pushed her away? He felt an eerie calm settle over him like a blanket. He'd killed his mother. Nobody would believe him if he talked about what their life had been like. Mila couldn't know. There was nobody else. He had to disappear.
And so he did. At barely 15, John left a place that had been supposed to be home but had actually been hell, alone, terrified and traumatized. This was the first time he disappeared without a trace.
