**WARNING! This post is of a graphic nature and involves sexual abuse and/or content. Reader discretion is advised.
Whatever you do in the dark will one day be brought to the light.
Journey of Miles—Part IV
“Why did he do that to me?” Miles asks Natalie. He has bathed and slept and is now eating crackers and sipping apple juice to settle his stomach. He has explained what occurred with Oliver over the past five days and Natalie can only shake her head. She is feeling a myriad of emotions right now—mostly anger at Oliver. Their veiled conversation not only confirmed for her that Miles was telling the truth, not that she doubted him, but also let that fucker know that she was on to him.
However, she is feeling those strange emotions that she has felt before—something that she knows she shouldn’t be feeling, but she can’t seem to resist. She knows what they are. She knows what they mean, but she is a grown woman—an adult! She has felt this way more than once and so far, she has not acted on the urges; but right now it’s almost unbearable, the presence of this child—this young man—that she has taken care of for many years and is now asking why his brutal stepfather sodomized him.
“Has no one talked to you about the birds and the bees, Miles?” Natalie asks and Miles scrunches his face.
“About girls and boys and sex,” she clarifies. He shrugs.
“Well, I kind of know some stuff,” he says.
Natalie proceeds to have “the talk” with Miles and they engage in a long conversation about sex and orgasms. She tries to explain to Miles that what Oliver did felt good to Oliver even though it didn’t feel good to Miles. Miles almost erupted into vomiting again but managed to control himself. Once he was settled, Natalie needed to leave the room. The feelings were bombarding her again. She doesn’t know what started them or why they have returned at this moment. She only knows that she needs to get out of this room to avoid succumbing to her urges.
Miles’ 12th birthday came and went without incident. He was tall for his age—not boney or lanky, but firm and trim—5′ 7” and still growing. He and Natalie were closer than ever. He liked it when she touched him on his back and his chest. Occasionally, her hand would brush in… lower places, and although he saw them as unintentional, he couldn’t help the way that it made him feel. Her touch was soothing, even when she touched his aching arms and shoulders. Now… this new touch—it brought out feelings he didn’t have before and he didn’t know quite how to react.
Oliver became a master at torture—slicing his shoulder in the same place with the same knife so as not to make a new scar. When people stopped paying attention—and when the scar tissue built up too much that the cut wasn’t bleeding enough for him—Oliver made a new cut. This went on for years, so many cuts that Miles lost count, so much torment that it was nearly impossible to come near his shoulders now—top or sides.
Natalie’s accidental touches in other places, however, were causing feelings to spring in him that he couldn’t identify.
He remembered the times that he saw Oliver in the Black Room. It happened many times since Oliver’s abuse guaranteed his silence. Women were distorted in all kinds of positions in that room. Some of them were being beaten with various objects while others had implements of all types used on them… and in them. They seemed to enjoy it but Miles never knew why. When Oliver choked them, they liked it. When Oliver choked him, Miles lost consciousness. When he bent them over and drilled into them, they seemed to enjoy it. When Oliver did it to Miles, it was the worst feeling ever—like the cutting, only worse. Miles couldn’t understand why the women liked these things that seemed so horrible to him… and why Oliver loved it! What was it all about?
He then remembered the conversation that he had with Natalie a year hence—about how the feeling was desirable to Oliver… in his private parts… even though it was horrible to Miles. Was it horrible for those women? It didn’t seem like it. They kept coming back! And why did he always have to tie them down? Was he afraid that they would run and tell, too? He had so many questions.
It was the summer of 1994, and Oliver had abused 12-years-old Miles again. This time, he hit Miles several times in his stomach and in his side. Miles ran from the house screaming and sprinted the entire four miles to his father’s house…and to Natalie. Adrenaline helped him make the trip, but when he got there, he doubled over in pain. Natalie laid him down and saw the blue and purple bruises forming on his stomach and sides. She instructed him to get undressed down to his underwear and after giving him some pain killers, she begins to treat his bruises with a medicated salve. As she touched his bare skin, he felt the shivers he always felt—the unfamiliar tingle that he couldn’t identify. His breathing became shallow—he couldn’t stop it.
Natalie could feel it, too. She tried to avoid it, she knew this feeling all too well. She had felt it before, around Miles and others. She tried to ignore it, but it weakened her. She loved the fact that they depended on her—that they trusted her, that she could mold them to whatever she wanted as long as they listened to her—and Miles was perfect. Not only was he beautiful and growing even more beautiful with time, but he needed her. He listened to everything that she told him and he confided his worst secrets to her. He was ripe—so ripe and ready—groomed perfectly for her and by her, and his erection proved that her touch affected him. His size was impressive for such a young boy, more impressive than any she had ever seen at his age, and she couldn’t resist it.
For the first time, she deliberately touched him…and he liked it. She knew it was wrong and he didn’t care. When it was over, he looked at her in awe as she rose from his bedside and went to the en suite without a word. Is that what Oliver feels? Is this why he does what he does in the Black Room with those women? Is this what he felt when he did it to me? Good God, Miles thought as he fought to catch his breath! He was convinced now… Natalie is an angel.
The weeks… and the months passed… and the abuse continued… and so did the sex. Natalie and Miles went from fondling to a full-on sexual relationship before he even turned 13. Natalie taught him many things about sex and the woman’s body, about kissing and about touching—but she never taught him about the emotion, about feeling. She wouldn’t have been able to explain it anyway…he was far too young to understand. All he knew was that Oliver abused him and afterwards, Natalie had sex with him. After a while, he couldn’t separate one from the other. He understood why the women kept returning to that room—although he did not want to keep returning to Oliver—but what he was feeling inside, he couldn’t identify.
He was drawn to Natalie. He wanted to be around her more and more, even if they weren’t having sex. He wanted to just sit in a room and watch her body move. He tried to tell her once what he was thinking, but he couldn’t find the words. She brushed it off and told him that’s how men feel about sex. It makes them feel good. Miles knew that it was more than that, but he couldn’t identify what it was.
Just before his 13th birthday, his life hit a precipice. Oliver was drunk again… very drunk… and he came after Miles. Once again, Miles had come home and was doing his homework and Oliver burst into his room immediately opening his pants. Just as he dropped them to his ankles, he lunged for Miles who scrambled off the bed and out of his reach. Oh no, you won’t do this to me again, Miles thought. As Oliver reaches for his pants to come after him, Miles attempts to escape from the room. He is tall, but Oliver is strong and he manages to grab onto Miles’ ankle and pull him to the floor. Oliver is dragging Miles back towards him and Miles is screaming, “Nooooooooooo! Nooooooooooooooooo!”
Apparently, in his drunken haze, Oliver must not have realized just how late in the day it was, because as he is dragging Miles back to have his way with the teenager, there’s a stampede coming up the stairs. The door bursts open, and there stands Julia with several members of the house staff behind her. She is horrified to find her husband naked from the waist down lying on top of her son trying to pin him to the floor.
“Mom! Get him off of me! Get him off of me!” Miles screams frantically. “He’s trying to rape me! He did it before!” The whole room fell quiet at this declaration. Even Oliver has stopped moving. No one moved anywhere until Miles managed to scramble from underneath his stepfather and move as far away from him as he could.
He is crying now… it will be over soon… it will all be over soon…
“He did it before, Mom,” Miles wails, “two years ago when you thought I had that virus. He did it every day for five days. I had to get out of here. I thought he was going to do it again.” He is screaming as he confesses his torment to his stunned mother before he loses his nerve. His mother stands there horrified as Oliver slurs,
“He’s lying. Don’t believe him Julie Babe.”
“You’re naked, you fucker!” Julia screamed as her pump-clad shoe meets squarely with Oliver’s ribs. He cries out then groans in pain.
“It was all him, Mom—the bruises, the cuts—it was all him,” Miles confesses finally. Julia looks from her son to her soon-to-be-ex-husband.
“You son of a bitch. You convinced me that it was my son, and I let you punish him. How long have you been abusing my son, you sick fuck?” There was no answer from Oliver. “I swear you will regret this for the rest of your life!” she seethes. Oliver laughs through his pain.
“You know what? I’ve been fucking other women the entire time we were married, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. You take that little bastard and your other little bastard and get the fuck off of my property!” he hissed.
“Oh, no, Ollie Dear,” Julia hissed back, “we’re married. This isn’t just your property anymore, and when I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if you still have those pants around your ankles.” Oliver laughed again.
“And just how do you plan to do that? Yeah, I fucked the little piece of shit, and beat him within an inch of his fucking life—the little coward—and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, because you can’t prove anything!” He laughs a laugh so fiendish, it sounds like it came straight from the pits of hell. Once Julia snapped back from the horror of realizing that this actually happened to her youngest son, she replied,
“I have the fact that I and about five other people walked in on you trying to fuck my son,” Julia growled.
“They all knew! They did nothing about it! You think they’re going to testify against me now?” Oliver mocked. Julia turned around to look at the staff.
“Ma’am, we knew about the abuse, but we thought you knew that,” the housekeeper admitted. “We couldn’t see how that boy was being abused the way that he was and you had no clue, but I can only speak for myself when I say that I had no idea that Mr. Anderson was having sexual relations with Miles.” Julia looked at the faces of the staff and they all pretty much say the same thing. She screamed at the top of her lungs and unleashed hell on a still half-naked Oliver. No one stopped her as she landed kick after kick and blow after blow to this useless chunk of flesh lying on the floor. He’s writhing in pain but still manages to throw a blow at her.
“Be mad all you want, but you still can’t prove anything,” he growled in pain.
“I’ll testify, Ma’am,” the housekeeper piped in, “to the abuse and the other women.” Several of the staff concur that they will testify as well.
“No matter,” Oliver mumbles. “My attorneys will just make it look like a conspiracy.”
“Not if I have pictures,” Miles adds, and Oliver’s face blanches. Again, the whole room goes silent and everyone turns to Miles. “I’ve got pictures of every bruise, every cut, every time he hit me, and of the rope marks when he tied me in the barn for hours.”
“How? When?” Julia asks. Miles’ face fell. He knew the cat was out of the bag now.
“They’re at Dad’s house,” he says contritely.
“Your father knew!?” she asks horrified. Miles shook his head.
“Natalie.” Julia drops her face into her hands and weeps. “I swore her to secrecy, Mom. He told me that if I told anybody, he would kill us all… and I believed him, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let him do that to me again.”
“H… how long?” Julia breathed.
“He hated me from the beginning, I don’t know why. He told me that you hated me, too… because I look so much like Dad. He made me feel awful… like nothing… for years. It got really bad after Emily was born. I guess he started hurting me when I was five or six.” Julia gasped.
“That long?” she breathed. Miles nodded. Julia pulled herself up and squared her shoulders. “Justin, Holden, stay here with Mr. Anderson. Make sure he doesn’t leave before the police arrive. Miles, Sweetheart, get me those pictures… quickly. Hillary, call the police to get this piece of shit out of my house—now!”
Julia set things in motion immediately and before the end of the next day, Oliver had been arrested and charged with no hope of making bail since Julia had emptied all of the accounts and filed for divorce.
Please forgive me, I could not describe the seduction of Miles. You guys know how much I love attention to detail. As a writer, I have to feel empathy for my characters. As a woman, I can imagine the fear and pain of being forcefully sodomized and abused, which is why I was able to describe it in some minor detail in the last segment without getting gross and graphic. However, as a grown woman, I couldn’t relate at all to the wanton seduction of a 12-year-old boy, so I couldn’t write it. I hope it doesn’t take away from the story.