Trance Ch 01

Author's note:

Comments, feedbacks and criticism are welcome. This chapter might appear slow. But from next chapter on story will pick pace. Certain details are intentionally omitted for now. It is open to interpretation. Readers are welcome to suggest.

I remember standing behind the bathroom window, excited and nervous. It was a hopeless endeavour and if caught, the price would be too much to pay. The time she will come for a bath was registered in my mind. That day I have decided to take my chance. I will see her completely naked for real. I keep imagining her in poses like how some nude models would do. I felt something moving inside my stomach, twitching. After what felt like an eternity, she walked inside. Actually it has been only 5 minutes since I have started standing behind the bathroom on the ground floor. She took her clothes off. She was wearing a violet colour nightie (womenswear at home). With a single motion up she took it off. It was disheartening when she turned around before taking it off completely. What surprised me was that she wasn't wearing anything inside. Which means it was only the thin fabric of her nightie that was between her and the outside world. She sat down and I could not see her anymore. She was below the view from the bathroom window. With great effort I tried to rise my foot up to see but at that exact moment someone grabbed my shirt collar from behind.

He turned me around and slapped hard. It was a hard hitting slap. Both physically and emotionally from embarrassment for me. It was numbing. I was shaking.

'You son of a bitch', he yelled and hit my face again. It was paining. The shock passed through my body and tears begin to fill my eyes. I got down and crouched in the corner, shivering and crying. He didn't beat me again. He knows if he hit me once more I will be dead. He calmed down. He sat next to me. I felt anxious like how a scared lamb would be like in front of a tiger. He didn't shout at me.

'do you realise what you were doing? What would happen if somebody come to know about this?'

'I... I am..', words would not come out of my mouth. Part of it because of the beating I have received from him, part of it because of the embarrassment.

'I AM SORRY', I blurted out and tears flooded my eyes.

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The day was nearing its ending. And before the darkness hit the ground, it rained. He sat there in his bed motionless and in pain. Looking at the rain through the window he felt a certain calm. His face was swelling. It was the first time in his twenty year old lifetime he was physically beaten by someone. At least he thinks so. During the time he passed out in his bed, he dreamt of her. Or rather he imagined her. He doesn't know whether it happened naturally or he did it intentionally. He was sure that it was her again in his sleep, as she did a thousand times before.

She stood in front of his room window. The cloudy sky and tree branches behind has given her the appearance of a goddess. She smiled and opened her hands as if asking to be in her embrace. Her breasts were white as snow. Her nipples like a cherry on top of a very special cake were erect. He looked below at her beautiful navel and it gave him an uncomfortable erection. He wanted to touch it, feel the warm of the smooth skin. He wanted to kiss her belly button. She turned around to watch the road. He saw the side of her buttocks, shiny as metal, smooth as butter. The curves of her body were perfect as if it was drawn by some god. He stood up and walked next to her. He took his hand around the curves of her buttocks. His heartbeat were rising. He was about to feel the smoothness of her royal buttocks. He shuddered. It's like some force hitting him again from behind and he woke up. His pants were wet . He had cum. Like hundred times before, in his dreams.

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She sat in the wooden chair in her house. It was an old chair. The smooth mica covering of the chair had peeled off and it was uncomfortable for anyone to sit on it. The surface was scratchy. But she liked to sit in that. It was her favourite chair. She liked the roughness brushing her smooth skin when she sit on it. She was thinking about the incident in the morning. She stood up and looked in the mirror. It has been many days since she admired her own beauty. Being a young widow she did not bother of such things anymore. Suddenly she remembered the dream she had in the morning, before the incident. She slipped her nightie down and stood in front of the mirror. She know she isn't the most beautiful looking. But in a way she was perfect in her own world. She turned to one side and saw the curves of her own body. She remembered it was exactly this way she stood in front of that window, in front of him. The thought made her feel vulnerable. But it also made her feel excited and thrilling in some unquestionable way. Some kind of high energy was taking form in her stomach, godly. She touched the opening between her thighs. It was moist and she was feeling high. She hasn't shaved around there in days. Those dark curly hairs in her bright white body made her look like an unfinished drawing. Like someone drew her in a white paper with black ink but forgot to add colours. The colours were lost in her life.

to be continued...