Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 116

"Come on, I want you to meet my sister, she's the only decent member of this family."

Mark took my arm and led me over to a tall woman with the same dark complexion as he did, with almond eyes and a beautiful smile. The Selzer family certainly were blessed, genetically.

As soon as she saw Mark, the woman beamed and excused herself from the conversation she was having.

"Marky! How are you?" she asked, coming over and embracing him gently.

"I'm good Sam," Mark replied, returning her embrace before motioning me over. "I want you to meet my girlfriend, Caroline. Caroline, this is my sister Samantha."

"h.e.l.lo, Caroline. Lovely to meet you," Samantha said. "You can call me Sam, everyone else in the family does. I had no idea my brother even had a girlfriend, he's been keeping you a secret!"

"I didn't want to taint her too quickly, I figured if she met everyone right away she'd run off screaming."

Sam laughed. "Well, I can't argue with that logic. G.o.d knows I lost more than one boyfriend after they met mom."

After having met Mark and Sam's mother, I couldn't tell whether or not Sam was joking. She took me by the arm.

"Please, Caroline, come and have a drink with me while Mark goes and does the rounds."

I dutifully followed her, flashing Mark a smile as we headed towards the bar. I could practically feel his eyes on my a.s.s as I moved away, and for a brief moment I wondered if I was going to feel the vibrations from the egg still inside of me. When there was no movement, no buzzing, I couldn't tell if I was relieved or disappointed. To tell the truth, it was probably a little bit of both.

Sam handed me a gla.s.s of champagne and held hers up in a toast.

"To love, I'm so glad to see my little brother happy," she said, and we both sipped, the bubbles fizzing as they hit my tongue, but doing nothing to satiate the b.u.t.terflies in my stomach. Even though Mark had told me Sam was the nicest person in his family, I was still nervous. I didn't want to make a complete mess of things. After all, I knew I didn't fit in here. I might have a nice dress, but I knew that didn't matter. These people came from money. They lived and breathed this environment. To me, it was so foreign. I didn't know what to do, how to act. I felt like a fraud, like the instant I did something wrong, made a mistake, slipped up somehow everyone would stare at me and laugh at the poor person who thinks she's one of them.

"Relax, Caroline," Sam told me. "You're doing fine."

I tried to give her a small smile.

"Is it that obvious I feel out of place?"

"No, I'm just really good at reading people. See that guy over there?" She pointed out a man in his forties with a woman who had to be half his age hanging off his arm. I nodded.

"He grew up in Washington Heights. His father was never around and his mother died of a drug addiction when he was ten. He ended up somehow getting out and going to college, made a fortune designing apps for major companies. He's only had money for about two years."

"Really? I never would have guessed."

"That's because it's all about how you act. If you act confident, act like you belong here, you belong here. I'm sure that even though he's got all this money, he's feeling exactly like you are. He's not like Mark and I, who grew up in this kind of crowd. But he hides it. Shoulders back, chin up, smile like you're the most beautiful woman in this room and you'll fit in perfectly."

I did as Sam suggested, and funnily enough, I even felt more confident as I was doing it.

"There you go. You're too gorgeous to hide against the wall."

"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it," I told her, flashing her a smile. I liked Mark's sister.

"Don't mention it. Here comes Mark, making sure I'm not scaring you," she joked, motioning as Mark came over.

"Well, that's about all I can take of mingling through the crowd. I always forget, living on the West Coast, how much I hate the people that live on this one."

"That's not nice Mark, that includes me!" his sister retorted.

"Well, obviously I don't include you in that, you're lovely. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to enjoy a few minutes alone with my date."

Sam smiled at me as we walked off, and I practiced my new look of pretending I belonged. Mark led me up the stairs to the small balconies overlooking the rest of the party.

"You're looking more comfortable than you were earlier, that's good," he told me, and I repeated the conversation I had with Sam.

"Oh, good. She does notice these things, Sam. She's a good sister. Just like you've been a good date."

Suddenly, the little egg inside of me began to buzz once more. For the second time this evening, my eyes widened as vibrations coursed through me. Instantly it felt like the vibrator had never been turned off at all. All the feelings from before rushed back. My body was on fire. My legs felt like jelly. Pleasure radiated through me from my s.e.x, from my most sensitive areas.

Once again, I was completely mortified.

"Oh G.o.d," I whispered, not sure if it was more out of pleasure or fear.

I clutched at the edge of the balcony, looking out at the crowd of people huddled below. There had to be over a hundred of them, the elite wealthy, the who's who of New York City all here tonight, all only a few feet away from me, none of them aware of what was happening to me, of what Mark was doing to me without even putting his hands on my body.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at Mark.

"Please..." I started to beg, but I wasn't sure what I was begging for, so my brain wouldn't finish the sentence. Did I want more of this? Of course I did. My blood had reached a rolling boil now, there was turmoil inside of me. I needed release, and I needed it badly. But at the same time, I was so embarra.s.sed. What if Mark gave me the release I wanted? What if he turned up the motion on the vibrator? It would all happen here, in public, so close to all these people! The thought horrified me.

Mark touched my arm gently as he smiled. The feeling of his fingers against my skin made me react like I never had to his touch before, and my back automatically arched towards him as I inhaled sharply. His fingers were like velvet.

"Yes, Caroline?" he asked, looking as innocent as a schoolboy, his eyes widening as he feigned ignorance at what I was pleading for.

"Please... oh G.o.d, I need... more," I finally begged.

"More? I don't understand, you have to tell me exactly what you want," Mark whispered into my ear, the feeling of his hot breath on my skin driving me insane.

"Ohhh," I moaned involuntarily, my lips quivering. I knew what Mark wanted. He wanted to hear me say it, he wanted me to spell out what I wanted.

"I want you to make me come," I whispered back to him, my legs feeling weaker and weaker as I said the words. A part of me was horrified that I'd done it, that I'd actually said it, but at the same time it turned me on to hear myself say those words, to have to beg for it.

An instant later, Mark didn't say another word, but the buzzing inside of me grew even stronger. Another low moan escaped my lips as my body was finally getting what it had wanted, what it had needed for so long now.

The pressure inside of me building, I knew it wouldn't be long now until I came. I could feel my breath coming faster, my heart beating at a quick pace. My legs tensed up as I could feel it, the waves washing over me.

Mark knew exactly what was happening, and he took me into his arms. I collapsed into his embrace as the o.r.g.a.s.m overtook me completely. Burying my face into Mark's shoulder, I opened my mouth in a silent moan as I fell into an ocean of pleasure. Wave after wave of pure ecstasy crashed over my body. My eyes squeezed shut, I stopped thinking, I stopped breathing, I stopped everything so I could focus entirely on the pure pleasure coursing through my body.

It felt like the o.r.g.a.s.m lasted both an eternity and only seconds at the same time. When I finally came back down to earth, Mark switched off the vibrator inside of me. My legs were like jelly, and I suddenly realized just what I'd done in public. I grabbed the balcony and looked down at the mult.i.tude of people milling around, as though nothing had happened. No one had noticed anything, n.o.body had realized that only seconds earlier Mark had taken me to the ultimate peak of pleasure.

Relieved and satisfied, I looked up at Mark, who was still holding me in his arms, and smiled.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he teased, and I punched him lightly on the arm as I finally trusted my legs to hold my weight once more and stood up once more.

"I guess it wasn't too bad," I replied. I still felt such a mult.i.tude of emotions, my head was spinning.

"Good. We're just in time, too, I think they're about to get us to find our tables and serve dinner.

Sure enough, a couple of minutes later someone went up to the podium and it was announced that the meals were about the be served. Mark slipped his arm in between mine, and we made our way back down the stairs towards one of the tables at the front of the room.

"This is going to be the worst part, our family is all going to have to sit at the same table and pretend to be civil to each other."

I could only nod in reply. I had to admit, Mark's mother scared me. His father wasn't so bad, but I knew there was something more there, something Mark wasn't telling me.

Mark and I had seats facing away from the stage. To my relief, Sam's name card was on the other side of me.

Mark's father was the next to arrive at the table, seating himself down. He immediately turned to me.

"How are you doing, Caroline? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am, thanks. I'm getting to know Sam, we're getting along wonderfully."

"Excellent, it's good someone's taking care of you while you're here."

I glanced discreetly at Mark when I heard the comment, but his face was like marble. Still, I knew he'd heard the comment, and I knew it had been meant to be heard.

Before I had a chance to reply, however, Mark's mother arrived, being attended to by two of the wait staff who had evidently been charged with helping her into her chair.

"I'm just old, I'm not useless," she snapped as she grabbed the back of the chair herself, steadied herself for a second, then sat down.

"Now, give me my cane," she ordered, and the staff did so before immediately leaving, obviously glad they were away from the cranky old woman.

"I swear, it's like they think I'm a cripple," Andrea Selzer complained to no one in particular as she settled into her seat.

"That's because you are a cripple dear. We're old, get used to it. Embrace it," Mark's father retorted.

"Easy for you to say, you can still walk without a stick holding you up."

"Yes, well, you would be able to as well if you'd ever listened to what the doctors told you."

I wasn't sure if I should be amused at the old married couple fight, but going by the look on Mark's face, he was horrified that I had to see this.

"Come on mother, it's fine. You're in your seat now, and they're going to start bringing out dinner."

Sure enough, the waiters came by with the first appetizer. Mark immediately grabbed the smallest fork on his plate, making sure I noticed, and I did the same. I was thankful for his subtle help, there were three forks on the table alone, I wouldn't have had a clue which one to use without him, and being here with his parents was absolutely not the time to make any major social faux-pas.

The first few dishes went relatively uneventfully. We made small talk, his father asked me about my work, and his mother refrained from making the comments about it she obviously wanted to.

All through the meal, however, I could tell something was wrong. It was something I couldn't quite place, couldn't put my finger on exactly, but I knew it was there. There was a tension, like an unspoken secret between all of the members of the family. I had thought I'd felt it when Mark spoke about his family, but I didn't know what it was. Now I knew I wasn't imagining it, something was definitely up.

When desert was brought out, an absolutely beautiful dark chocolate and raspberry souffle that tasted like heaven, Mark's mother made the comment that sparked everything.

"Well, goodness me, I couldn't possibly eat this dessert, it's so rich, and I have to watch my figure."

I noticed out of the corner of my eye as she said this Sam putting down the spoon that had been halfway to her mouth with her first bite. Not realizing the implications, I still took a bite of mine, and Mark's mother glowered at me.

"Of course," she continued, "I suppose some of us don't really need to care about our appearance."

It took me a second to realize that she was insulting me, saying that I didn't need to care about my looks because I didn't belong in society, but before I had a chance to say anything in reply, Mark had already opened his mouth.

"Shut up, mother. Caroline's my guest, my date. Let her enjoy her meal without gracing her with your pa.s.sive aggressive bulls.h.i.t for once in your G.o.d d.a.m.ned life, would you?"

I had never, ever heard Mark speak that way with anybody before in my life. h.e.l.l, I wasn't even sure I'd ever heard him swear before. Going by the reaction of everyone else at the table, neither had they. Our mouths were open, eyes wide. Mark's mother's face had gone such a deep shade of red I was starting to worry she may have had a heart attack.

It took me a second to realize I wasn't breathing as I waited with bated breath to see what else was going to happen.

Mark's father was the first to speak.

"If it wasn't for the fact that it would look bad in front of all our guests, I would kick you out of here so fast," he told Mark in a low voice, nothing at all like the friendly, kindly old man I'd met earlier.

"Don't worry father, I wouldn't want to embarra.s.s you," Mark replied icily. "You know what? We're leaving. The two of you have abused me emotionally my entire life. I'm not about to let you do it to Caroline as well, who deserves a h.e.l.l of a lot better than this family."

With that Mark suddenly stood up and took my hand. I stood up as well. He grabbed our souffles and our spoons and I followed him out of the hall, all too aware that this time all the eyes in the room were on us. We had been seated at the front of the room, we had to pa.s.s by nearly everyone else to get out, but I didn't notice. I didn't care that everyone was staring. All I could think about were those last few words Mark had said to his parents before he stormed out.

That explained everything. That explained why he was always so furtive when it came to talking about his family, that explained why he was always so happy for us to talk about other things.

I hadn't realized that Mark had gone through the exact same thing that I did.

My heart was crushed for him. I wanted to hold him close to me, to comfort him, to tell him it would be ok. For a parent to betray that trust that a child puts in them, for a parent to abuse their child, it's one of the worst things I could possibly think of.

As soon as we left the room and found ourselves in the lobby of the hotel, Mark grabbed his hair with his hands.

"f.u.c.k, I'm so sorry Caroline. I'm so sorry." He kept repeating the phrase, over and over as he moved in circles around the room.

"Mark, it's ok. Calm down, I'm here," I replied, moving over to him and gently taking his hands in mine. He stopped pacing when he felt my touch and looked me in the eye.

"I'm sorry. That must have been humiliating for you."

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. I had no idea you were emotionally abused by your parents, honestly, I really admire your strength for even being able to be in the same room as them. Come on, let's go back to our hotel."

Mark hailed a cab and ten minutes later we were in the room of our hotel. Mark took off his jacket and collapsed on the bed. I sat behind him and rubbed his shoulders.

"I'm here, if you want to talk," I told him. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine too."

For a minute I thought Mark was going to choose the second option, but then he got up and went into the suite's living room. It was like I instinctively knew what he wanted me to do; I followed him over and sat down next to him on the couch.

"I just... I just couldn't take it anymore, you know?" he finally said.

"I know. I know exactly what you mean."

"It's been so long. And it's so hard. I mean, everyone always thinks I have the perfect life. I have money, I'm not bad looking, I'm constantly named one of America's most eligible bachelors. But none of them know this secret, this horrible, terrible secret that I'm hiding inside. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, but I couldn't talk about it. Who was going to believe me? My parents are some of the richest, most respected people in the country. Besides, what can even be done about it? I'm an adult now, I have to take care of my own problems. There's no one to tell."

"I know exactly what you mean," I replied softly. "I understand so much better than you know. Even when you do tell people, they don't always believe you."

Mark looked up at me, but I barely noticed. I was staring into s.p.a.ce, my own bad memories coming flooding back to me.

"You've been through the same thing," he finally said, and I nodded.