Domesticated (6 page)

“I’ll be out there as soon as I can. You sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“I just want you to stay safe, that’s all. You’ve never taken care of yourself. I would feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“I’m fine, Garrison. I have to go. I have a boatman coming. The yacht is there now. I’m staying out all day, so I won’t be able to answer if you call.”

“Are you taking food? What will you eat?”

“Yes, Garrison. I have it all taken care of. I’m not inept.”

The exhalation didn’t go unnoticed. I knew the snort was a silent disagreement to me being incompetent. Fuck him. Fuck my mother who never even called me, and fuck their conniving conversations behind my back about how incapable I was. “I’ll try to reach you later, or tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow would be better,” I snidely replied and ended the call. Dropping my rather large phone in my bag with my tablet, I stormed out. The nerve of him. The nerve of my mother. Who the fuck did she think she was telling my husband I shouldn’t be alone? I could hear the conversation in my head. Her talking about how I was too unstable to come here by myself. I hated her almost as much as I hated Adriana.

The conversation I had walked into the winter before our wedding played in my head. It was Christmas and we were at her penthouse in New York City. I left them alone to shower, but turned back when I couldn’t find my overnight bag. I stopped when I heard my mother tell Garrison to sit down.

Standing just outside the door of her office, I peeked around the corner. My mother stood with her long, beautiful hair hanging down her back. Her white chiffon business suit hugged her curves. She truly was breathtaking. It was no wonder Adriana was so envious of her. She had every right to be. She stood silent for a minute, swirling the ice around in her cordial glass, twirling the gold alcoholic drink.

“Garrison, I want you to know what you’re getting yourself into with my daughter. Kendra has always been—how should I say this? I guess she’s always been a little laborious. I’m not sure you realize what a handful she can be at times.”

“What do you mean?”
Garrison asked, joining her at the window that overlooked the lighted skyscraper city.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, Kendra tends to need guidance. She doesn’t really deal with things on her own. She needs someone to hold her hand. I can’t tell you how many conversations I had with her stepmother over her behavior.”

“Has she ever been to therapy?”

“Yes, for years. Adriana took her twice a week. Her psychiatrist said she misbehaved and acted out in pursuit of attention. She went from being the only child with two parents to being the oldest of three with a stepmom. She acted out in spite of the attention that was taken from her to be divided between two sisters and a new wife. I have to give Adriana credit. I’m glad she was there for her. I was extremely busy in my career in those earlier years. I honestly don’t know that I could have handled some of the things she did as a child.”

“She never told me anything like that,”
my concerned future husband expressed.

“Of course, she didn’t. I’m not trying to discourage you from marrying her. I’m just trying to make you are aware of things you might have to take care of with her. I mean, I think she’s fairly steady now. She seems to be holding her own while away at school. You just might have to hold her hand a lot, Garrison. Are you up for that?”

“I plan on having an assistant for her. I think we work well together. We’re going to live in Hartford, in my parents’ house. They’re relocating to Houston. We’ll be fine. I can control her.”

That was Garrison’s plea for me. Not once did he say he loved me. Not once did he say he needed me, wanted to be with me, cared about me. He could control me. That’s what he said. I presume I was lucky I had him. He still wanted me. Even after the lies my mother told him, Garrison still wanted to marry me. Of course, she didn’t know they were lies, but she should have never listened to one thing Adriana said. Nothing that came out of her mouth was the truth. 

I stopped trying to convince anyone to believe me after my little bottom reminded me of how mad that made Adriana. I never mentioned anything to my mother again in fear of her talking to Adriana about it. I would pay the price for that. I wasn’t chancing it anymore. Suffering in silence became the best policy for me and my butt.

“Ahoy, Matey!”

Oh for fuck’s sake. You have got to be kidding me. Who the hell was this clown with his arms flaring about like he was about to fly or some shit? Although the surround sound burst with satisfying music, I didn’t want the whole beach, hearing. Something about pouring sugar on me came from my boat. What the hell was he listening to? I jerked my arm away when he tried to help me up the little boarding bridge.

“I’m Sam. You must be Kendra?” he questioned with a ridiculously stupid smile.

“Mrs. Ashby,” I corrected. “Turn that off,” I demanded, walking right past him and right to the bow where I stood behind the glass wall. I could feel his stare boring into the back of my head. I didn’t care. Did this guy really think we were going to be friends? Flipping my hair, I glanced back, ordering to get a move on with my eyes, my raised eyebrows, and the nod of my head. I even added the circling of my hand for a little animation, just in case he didn’t get the look. 

“Right…here we go,” he cheerfully sang.

Oh brother. I could have said something equally lame back to him, but chose not to. What was the point? He would still be equally dumb.

The sun felt warm on my eyelids when I closed them, soaking in the oceanic atmosphere. There wasn’t a more peaceful sanctuary on earth than the ocean. The breeze picked up, brushing past my skin as our speed accelerated, fanning my hair behind me. I forgot how much I loved this boat and being out in the middle of the mammoth waters. Nothing could have made it more impeccable. Hmmm. Except maybe a glass of wine.

I removed my over shirt and walked to the back of the yacht to the bar. The bar was beautifully lit at night with four fixed stools correspondingly illuminated. I looked forward to sitting out here once the moon was the only thing lighting our way.

I sat on the white leather stool with a delicious, ice-cold glass of wine. This is why I kept Olivia around. She knew what I liked and how to take care of me. Nobody else would have made sure I had Challis-North white wine. I sort of loved that girl.
That wouldn’t be disclosed to her. She was beneath me. We were far from friends.

After a couple glasses of my favorite wine, I made my way up to the upper deck. Garrison made sure the yacht had the sunbathing deck. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing me in a bikini. That wouldn’t be very conservative.

We once came here with Garrison’s parents. His mother wore the most ridiculous swim suit I had ever seen. It reminded me of something from one of those silly Norman Rockwell calendars of women back in the day. Mine was just as puerile. Garrison picked it out. I couldn’t be showing that much skin around other people. God forbid.

This bikini was hidden from my husband. He wouldn’t be seeing me in this one. It barely covered my nipples and the dainty strings holding the bottoms in place would have been tossed out with the Thursday morning garbage disposal. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I had things disappear more than once. Rarely did Garrison call me out on anything I purchased. He would just wait until I wasn’t around to get rid of them. Perish the thought of us having a confrontation. We couldn’t be having anything like that.

Gulping the last of my wine, I reclined myself in my lounge, not too much, though. I wanted to be able to see the waters, and enjoy the view. I loved the way my new bikini looked on me from this angle. My breasts were firm and full with exposed deep cleavage. The white trim stopped just above my hairline. Looking behind me to make sure I was alone, I lifted the elastic a little. I loved the way my pussy looked beneath the white. I liked it so much, I took a few selfie shots with my phone.

I looked around again for whatever reason. I knew I was alone, the boat was moving. I still checked before posing for a few more shots. My legs spread and my fingers held my lips open with the material moved to the side. That was a very nice picture. The one with my middle finger inside the warm, wet well was even nicer, erotic even. Damn. I needed to come.

Being alone on top of the world, I considered it safe to take care of the needed relief. My psychosexual thoughts took over again. I was still on the yacht, just not alone. My fingers, sliding wet arousal between my folds weren’t my fingers at all. I didn’t feel my fingers. I felt long strides of a very happy tongue. Whose tongue, I didn’t know, nor did I care.

The unbearable way the organ felt while I envisioned the sucks, the slurps, and the lapping were out of my control. I bore no responsibility, I had zero agency, I was one giant plexus, responding with moans, writhes, and then—”

“Lunch is served,” I heard the driver of my yacht from behind me. FUCK!

“Who’s driving us?” I yelled, trying to hide what I was doing.

He was behind me. Maybe he hadn’t seen. Looking at his flushed face, I was sure he witnessed it all. My first instinct was to fire him on the spot for even coming up there. My second instinct was absolute mortification. My third instinct was my true self. I was aroused at the thought of someone watching me.

“It’s on autopilot. This is a pretty sophisticated machine. I could set the GPS to take us anywhere we wanted to go, and never touch a control,” he explained the refined navigation system. He walked even closer. What the hell? The throbbing between my legs was autonomously chaotic. I never moved my right cocked leg. I sickeningly hoped the material between my legs exhibited the wet discoloration.

“We are not going anywhere. Why are you even up here?”

“Look, lady, you don’t have to be so uptight with me. We’re in the middle of the ocean, just you and me. Why would you want to be so nasty? We’re going to be spending a lot of time together if you plan on taking this thing out. May as well make the best of it, huh? Let’s start over. I’m Sam.” He smiled, offering his hand.

I looked up to his hand querulously. Like I was really going to take his hand. Really? Unbelievable. I didn’t take it the first time, and I sure as hell wasn’t taking it now, although the thought of him touching my saturated fingers was appealing. “Look, Sam,” I retorted with a mocking tone laced with my superfluous attitude. “Your job is to navigate the yacht, not hang out like we’re buds. I’ll be down shortly,” I intrepidly concluded, ordering him away.

“Great. I should have known better. That’s why Warren was so giving.”

“Who?” I asked, moving my legs to the side. Jesus, I could come just by the pressure of the seat beneath my ass. My posture straightened on its own, trying to make the needed contact to my crazy clitoris.

“Warren. He escorted you the last time you were here. I was so excited about this amazing yacht, I begged him to let me have it. I know why he was so eager to give it up now. You people are all the same.”

“And you people should do what you’re paid to do. I’m not paying you to be my friend. I don’t want to associate with you. You can take us back and get off if you would like. I’m sure I can replace you rather quickly.”

“I’m sure you can,” he smirked. “If you want me to stay behind the controls, maybe you should have someone else prepare your food. Better yet, maybe you can warm up your high-class lunch yourself next time.”

My lips parted in shock. The nerve of this guy. He walked away, uncaring of my pretentious expression.

My fingers moved quickly back to my wetness and I came in about three seconds. The previous tongue down there never returned to my thoughts. It was Sam. Sam replaced my earlier fantasy, watching on his knees in front of me. Kneeling on his knees, I ordered him to eat me. There was no way I would make it through lunch without discharging myself. I didn’t even try.

Garrison would have a few dozen heart attacks if he saw me like this. I never covered myself up. Not one inch of me. I descended the upper deck in my pussy soaked bikini and breasts baring top. I walked right to the door where Sam was sitting, feet propped on the control deck.

“I would like my food out on the bow.”

“Okay…” he replied with raised eyebrows, looking up from his magazine.

“Carry it there,” I retaliated with the same knowing expression.

“You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I am joking?”

He snorted. Coming to his feet, he brushed past me, glared down at me, and did as he was ordered. Oh, how I missed having someone to instruct.

“Your dinner is served your Almighty Highness,” Sam smartly spoke, retrieving the silver covered platter and walking past me.

Following him, I jumped, startled when he dropped the tray loudly to the table. He was so fired. I wouldn’t be seeing him again after this day. Asshole. Dismissing him with my eyes, I opened the lid. Idiot. My shrimp was shifted into the peas and noodles, and now my Kaiser roll was soggy, too. I wasn’t paying him. He didn’t deserve to be paid.

My restrained mood soon returned. It was impossible to feel irritable with the ocean breeze in my face. I always loved the ocean. Ever since I was a little girl, I remembered loving the ocean. Of course, the very first memory is one with Adriana. I remember being so excited that Christmas morning. Paris wasn’t born yet and Katie was maybe two, I guess that would have made me around six.

My father let me unwrap the small package. I gloated, trying not to exult it to Adriana, although I could see the glare from my peripheral vision. The brochure was of a beautiful yacht, even bigger than this one. Katie and I had our own shared room and all. We were going to Miami to spend the entire week abroad. I was looking forward to my father being close to me. The witch couldn’t be mean to me around him. She would put on her loving façade and make a show of our happy relationship.

It didn’t really pan out the way my six-year-old mind planned, though. I’ve learned not to trust what I think will happen in life. It’ll be the opposite anyway. Karma didn’t work with me. I had to create my own Karmatic results if I wanted them.

I can remember exactly what I was wearing that day. Adriana took me shopping for our trip. It was freezing in Connecticut and I was tired of being pulled in and out of stores for clothes I didn’t get a choice in wearing. Like the red and white striped shirt with red shorts. That’s what I was wearing the day we climbed aboard the prodigious ship. My six-year-old excitement soared, even if I was told to wear the red boy shorts. I didn’t care. The ocean was majestic to me. I was fascinated by its magnitude.

That may have been the longest five days of my life. I wasn’t expecting to get sea sick. Katie and I both were green from motion sickness. The only difference is, Katie got the medicine, I wasn’t allowed. Most of my time was spent in my bunk, curled in a little ball and trying to keep from throwing up again. It only made things worse when I had to clean it up. Drown the thought at sea to make it easy on me with a trashcan. Watching me clean it up was more fun.

I didn’t really get to enjoy the trip like I had hoped. I did see a dolphin, and a fin I was sure was a shark, through my little round window. I’m sure I lost five pounds that week. Stale saltine crackers seemed to be the only thing my sea stomach could handle. One good thing about it was I was alone most of the time. I didn’t have to deal with Adriana until she brought sleepy Katie in to sleep in her custom designed crib. She should have been out of the crib anyway by two, but the new baby coming in seven months explained that.

The very last day on the yacht, my belly decided it would tolerate the waves. I woke feeling better than I had since my feet hit the wooden deck. I was famished and managed to keep down oatmeal and toast. My father was locked away inside with the air conditioning, working. I would bet my pinky finger he was there the entire week. I spent the entire day on the bow, pretending to be a pirate looking for sunken treasure.

It wasn’t until I went to bed that night that I received my first spanking that week. I wasn’t being a lady when we ate supper. I was begging for attention from my father when I asked a million questions about the ocean, what lay beneath it, and if he thought there really could be buried treasure. I was a normal, excited six-year-old little girl that night, and my daddy happily told me about the treasure of Lima. It was buried by pirates on Cocos Island, somewhere in the Pacific.

“Can we take our boat there?”
I asked.

“Maybe we already did, while you were sleeping your trip away,”
Adriana meddled her nose in the conversation, using her fake ass tone. I really couldn’t help it. I wanted to make her look stupid. She was stupid.

“Doubtful,”
I said, turning my attention back to my father.
“Can we, Dad?”