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The Wreckoning Chapter 16: Christmas
🕑 Added 2020-01-28 21:43:40 +0000 UTCIt is later in the evening of Christmas day. I had spent the day with my family, talked to Dylan over the computer for a long time, and was now in my car parked out in front of Robyn’s townhouse. It was a plain gray two story place identical to the dozen others along this row. There are no decorations but I do notice some flower pots lined up near her stoop, currently covered in snow. I could see by her undisturbed white of her sidewalk that nobody had come in or out of the place all day.
Without me asking for it Robyn had given me the day off and heaven knows I needed it. Goliath, as I had dubbed D10, was one bad mother fucker. 16 inches of insane pussy destroying rubber, as thick my husband’s arm at the bicep. The pain was delicious and it made me cum like a geyser but sweet Jesus it was enormous. All but the truly depraved would assume such a toy were a grotesque novelty, but the real freaks knew better. We were now reaching my true physical limitations, my pussy and asshole might stretch but my pelvic bone could not.
I stare at her house. The lights were on though the blinds closed, I knew she was home. After everything that had taken place since Thanksgiving she had nowhere to go and nobody to be with today. Despite her assurances that simply did not sit right with me.
I prepare myself for her anger. She would not be happy to see me in the flesh. Even now she insisted we never make contact, she didn’t even realize that I knew where she lived. For my own curiosity a while back I tracked her down at her work then tailed her home. I wasn’t sure if I would ever use that knowledge but it felt important to have, and now here I was.
I pull the leather mask on and zip up the back. Nat might have been embarassed to be seen with it on but Missy gave no fucks, Missy was proud of her mask, Missy was a good girl. Then I take the bag Tupperware and two wrapped gifts from my passenger seat and start off up the front walk. I think of all of the packages she had left on my doorstep over the months, turnabout was fair play. There was the sound of music and merriment in the house to the left but otherwise all was quiet. I climb the steps then stand before her door. I nod my head knowing I was doing what felt right. I ring the doorbell and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I try it again. Then after a bit I knock instead. She was probably trying to ignore whoever was at her door, little did she know that I would wait here until morning if I had to. I ring again. At last I hear movement from the other side of the door.
“Hold on.” I hear her familiar voice. A moment later the door swings open.
The stunned look on her face was priceless.
“Merry Christmas.” I smile.
“Wha…what…are you doing here?”
I show her the bag and the presents. “Playing Santa Claus. Ho ho ho!”
“Missy, you shouldn’t have… How did you…? I told you never to contact me!”
I shrug. “I’ve been a good girl all year, I thought today of all days I might be naughty.”
She looks to my left and right nervously, looking to see if anyone was on the street to see this strange leather masked woman at her doorstep.
“No one saw me.” I assure her. “Though that might change, can I come in?”
“Uhhh.”
“Please?”
She shakes out of her surprise. “Uh, yeah. O-of course. Come in.”
I step in and she quickly closes the door behind me. I kick my boots off then turn to her. “Where can I put these?”
“Um, in the kitchen. Follow me.”
Her discomfort was palpable as she lead me through her tidy kitschy home. I half expected a sex dungeon or some crazy altar to Dylan and I but her home was completely normal and delightfully tacky. There wasn’t a single seasonal decoration to be seen but that did not surprise me. Christmas would only have been a sore point for her this year as she spent it alone. In the corner of her living room I see her desk and computer and that distinctive chair. So that’s where she sits. It was surreal seeing the other side. The kitchen was open and attached. We walk into it and I deposit my armful down onto the table.
“You shouldn’t have come.” She says quietly.
“Pish. Nobody ought to be alone on Christmas.” I start pulling containers from the bag. “We’ve got turkey, taters, stuffing, glazed carrots, the whole shebang. And enough goodies to send you into a sugar coma. Hope you’re hungry.”
“We?” She whispers.
“I held back so I’d have room. I mean, who wants to eat alone if they don’t have to?”
“Missy…”
“And I brought presents.”
I look back to see her rooted on the spot. Her arms are at her side and her expression one of complete bafflement.
“Come on, open them.”
She shakes her head no but says nothing, she was struck mute by my kindness.
I chuckle. “Then I will.”
“Please…don’t…” She mutters.
I ignore her and open the larger of the two gifts. I tear the shiny paper and toss the wrapping to the floor. I present the framed piece of art to her. “For the wall.” I motion over toward her computer. “Remember how I said…”
“I remember.” She gasps.
“It’s a Georgia O’Keeffe print. The green and pink reminded me of Pixania. Don’t you think?”
She nods yet remains standing there like a statue. I invite her to come take closer look but she just stands there staring.
I set it down. “Something to remember.” I then take the other gift and unwrap it. Opening the squat square box I pull a new handmade ceramic mug. It was a rich brown with a splotch of cream color in across the middle, it had reminded me of her skin and hair when I first saw it. “I noticed yours has a chip.” I tilt it up to show her the bottom, scrawled into the base was M1. “M1, Mug 1, get it? Like the dildos. If you ever break or crack this one let me and I’ll get you another one, a bigger one.” I laugh. “I was going to get you a bunch of different teas and make you up a schedule. M1-chamomile 9 pm, and stuff like that. But I thought of it too late. Do you like it?”
Again she gazes at me with a comatose stare. The ticking of the wall clock and the dull thrum of the gathering next door is the only sound in the house as I wait for some response. I offer it to her but once more she stands petrified. I set the gift down.
“Well.” I rub my hands together. “You must be hungry.” I pick up two of the food containers to take to the counter in order to begin serving out our meal but when I turn back I see her bottom lip trembling and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her face a mask of pain and confusion.
I set down the containers and hurry forward. “Come here.” I pull her into a hard hug. “Hey, don’t cry. Shh, don’t cry baby.”
“Why are you doing this?” She whimpers. “After all I’ve done to you…why? I should be in jail, not getting presents. Why!?”
I tenderly wipe the tears from her face while I continue to hold her close. “Because I love you Robyn. I don’t know if I am in love with you, but I do love you.”
She is shaking her head. “No. No, no, no, no, no. You can’t say that. I’m a bad, rotten, evil…and you’re…perfect. You need to get away from me and never…”
I interrupt her there. “Stop that.”
“I’m a monster!” She weeps.
“You’ve done a terrible thing, a really terrible thing.” I admit. “You can’t undo it but you can’t let it define you either. Not if you want to grow from it.”
“Grow from it!?”
“Yes grow from it. You’ve had your dark night of the soul. You know what your capable of. You know just how bad you can be. How many people can truly say that? You’ve been the monster, become that demon that exists in us all, yet you didn’t let it consume you. You could have let spite and hatred rule you forever but instead you found yourself. You found the courage to come out. You found the bravery to reject your father. You found love. And you found a friend. I love you Robyn.”
“How can you say that?”
“I don’t know, it doesn’t make much sense but…love is a funny thing.” She slumps in my arms and I embrace her with all my might.
She buries her face in my neck and whispers. “Forgive me.”
“I’ve already have.”
