Authors: Breanna Hayse
"I promised them to a
reputable breeder, hon. He shows mastiffs and studded Kena. Sorry."
"At least we have
Rodin. He's so happy."
Alex didn't miss the word
'we'. He touched her hand. "Yes, but are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Are you happy?"
He looked at her with warmth in his eyes.
She pulled her hand away.
"I have nothing to complain about."
"But are you
happy?" he asked again. She didn't answer. Alex sighed.
Does she even know how to be happy?
"I got you a present. It's a belated Welcome gift. Kena thought of
it."
"Why did you do
that?" Misha asked sharply, taken aback.
Alex studied her for a
moment. "Hasn't anyone ever given you a present? Just because? Oh My Lord,
are you serious?" he asked, as she shook her head. "Well, my sweet
Tiger, that will be changing. I hope you like it. And no arguing. Kena did a
lot of thinking to come up with this idea."
"Well, I can't exactly
say no to Kena, can I?" Misha said sullenly, as she pulled the cub onto
her lap. She stuck her finger into his mouth and started playing with his
tongue and gums, telling him 'no' when he bit too hard.
"Do you realize that
you do the same thing to me as you do to that cat?"
"What do you
mean?"
"Every time I start to
get too close to you and you feel uncomfortable, you tell me no."
"I do not."
"Yeah, you do. At least
you don't flick me on the nose. I'll be right back. Wait here and no
peeking."
Misha was extending the
claws of Rodin's paw when Alex returned with a very large bundle in his arms.
He set it upon the table with a smile. "Go ahead, unwrap it. Be
honest."
Misha's discomfort was
plastered across her face. With a slight frown, she removed the cloth covering
the bronze Rodin reproduction of The Danaid. She gasped, her hands covering her
mouth, seeing the artist's signature on the woman's right thigh.
"You said Rodin was
your favorite artist. I didn't know which one was your favorite piece. I looked
around at different renderings from different artists and found this one. I
thought it was beautiful because, well, it looks so much like you. Misha?
Mish!" Alex called, as she fled into the house and slammed the house
behind her. What did he do wrong?
Misha held back her sobs
until she was safe, alone in her room.
How
did he know? What gave me away? Who tipped him off?
She thought of the
statue; the beautiful graceful flow of the woman lying on the ground, her naked
body raised to expose every luscious curve and every delightful crevice. Hidden
in the ground was the face, and it remained unseen. Misha cried into her hands,
ignoring the tapping at her door.
Alex walked inside and
placed Rodin on the floor. The cub immediately jumped on the bed, and mewed
plaintively as Misha cried into her arms. Alex sat next to her and touched her
shoulder.
"Mish? What's wrong?
Please talk to me."
"Just go away! How
could you do that to me?!"
Alex leaned toward her and
began to stroke her trembling back. "Do what? Give you a gift? I'm sorry,
I didn't know which one you would like, so I just picked the one that reminded
me of you. I didn't mean anything negative by it."
"Are you telling me you
just randomly chose one of the statues from a random artist and ordered
it?" Misha demanded, glaring at him through wet, red eyes.
Alex nodded. "Actually,
yeah. That's the truth. I looked at a bunch of different ones but I kept coming
back to this one. I'm sorry you hate it…"
"Hate it? Oh my God, I
don't hate it. I love it. It is one of the most intimate things that anyone has
ever done for me. But, oh shit, Alex, I'm a big fat liar. You're going to lose
all respect for me," Misha sniffed, placing Rodin over her shoulder.
Alex looked confused.
"I think you need to start from the beginning. And leave nothing out. I
want the truth," he said firmly.
Misha nodded shamefully and
began her story…
"Everything I shared
about my parents and my upbringing was true. When I was seventeen, I ran away
from home because I found out my foster mother was making plans to get me to
sell myself as a professional escort."
"She was trying to pimp
you? This ultra-religious woman was flesh peddling." Alex was appalled.
"Yeah. Just like so
many of them, she was a fraud. She got the church to give her food and
donations and stuff because she did such 'good deeds' by taking on kids in the
system."
"Did you report it to
your social worker?"
"No. I had the bad habit of fibbing
that I developed to supplement my lonely existence. Because of that, no one
would believe anything I told them by that point, and I think she was counting
on that. Anyway, you might know that Pahrump is known for its whorehouses. I
overheard them talking about the price a virgin would bring in the market, and
realized that they were talking about me. I was terrified, and did what I do
best. I ran."
She paused to take a deep
breath, afraid to look into Alex's eyes. "I hitched a ride into Las Vegas
and lived on the streets, while taking every menial, piss-ant job I could to
keep myself alive. I wandered into the white tiger exhibition at the Mirage and
had an idea. I was depressed and suicidal, but didn't have the courage to take
my own life, so I figured I would let the tigers do it for me."
"Misha! Please tell me
you are kidding!" Alex sounded angry.
Misha shook her head.
"No, Alex. This is the whole, pathetic, pitiful truth. I climbed into
their enclosure after everything had closed down and walked straight into their
den. I didn't even hesitate, that was how little I cared about myself. But the
weirdest thing happened. Instead of mauling me, they knocked me to the ground
and started to groom me. I fell asleep between the pair, and the female
actually wrapped her body around mine. I was discovered by the zookeeper the
next morning. Both tigers took a stance between him and me, and bared their
teeth at him. I can't explain it, but, for the first time in my life, I felt
safe. These giant cats were actively guarding me."
"Go on," Alex
said, wondering whether or not to believe the tale.
Misha saw the doubt in his
eyes. "You don't believe me. Well, you can ask him yourself. The
zookeeper's name was… is… Jack. Jack Leden."
It was Alex's turn to be
stunned into silence. He knew that Jack had recommended the girl for the
position, and that they had a casual acquaintance that he'd assumed originated
from her work up north.
"Continue," he
ordered.
"Jack took pity on me
and gave me a job helping with the tigers. I was there until they closed the
show and sent them away to a private preserve. He talked me into starting
college but I was broke. I… he doesn't even know about this." Misha
started to cry again. Alex waited patiently. She finally regained her
composure.
"Vegas has lots of
opportunities for girls to make some quick bucks. I knew I had a nice shape and
decided I would audition for a strip joint in the older section of town, far
away from where Jack lived. He was the closest thing to a parent I've ever had,
and I didn't want him to be burdened by me like, like…"
"Like your parents
were?" he finished for her.
"Yes. I was waiting in
the back of the studio when I was approached by this little Italian man with
the longest moustache I've ever seen. He was very nice and polite, and informed
me that he was a living artist and wanted me to pose for an exhibit he was
doing at Caesars. He gave me a card and promised that I would make enough money
to get me through college if I was willing to give him three months of work. I
couldn't refuse. Hell, I was going to try my hand at stripping, so what could
be worse, right?"
"I can imagine far
worse, Misha. You poor kid…"
"When I arrived at the
exhibit, I remember just staring in shock. He called it Living Rodin. My very
first pose was Le Danaid. I hid my face, naked to the world, for six hours a
day, five days a week, while thousands of people photographed, painted and
sculpted me. It was hard work, and very humiliating. People think that she's
submitting, but she's not. She's lamenting, and the intensity of the pose is
very hard to maintain. But I did it, and surprised myself. Her position is very
awkward and painful, and it would take me hours to recover."
"You posed nude?"
"Yeah, and I am so
ashamed of myself, but I saw no other way to make the money I needed to start a
life, apart from being a pseudo-whore. The Danaid saved my life, but also
shamed me. I sold my body to survive, and all these strangers saw parts of me
that only a lover should. Carlos was so impressed with my pose, and the
response, that he kept me there. And, after three months, he released me with
enough money to pay for most of my college."
Misha accepted the bottle of
water that Alex offered her and took a long drink. "Jack helped me get
accepted to Davis through a friend of his—"
"I wonder if it was my
dad," Alex tapped his chin. "A senator's referral is a big thing, and
Dad rarely said no to anything Jack asked of him."
"I don't know, but it
worked. Carlos was thrilled for me and gave me a gift of the rest of my tuition
as a going away present. His final request was that I would permit him to
sculpt me as The Danaid. I couldn't refuse. I owed him. His name is Carlos
Mariani and you bought his piece. You bought me, Alex. That
is
me on that table."
Alex was quiet, not knowing
what to say. The whole story was too inconceivable to be true, but she was
right about the artist's name. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Do you
regret it?"
"Not until now. I feel
so ashamed. I swore I would never expose myself like that to anyone again, for
any reason. Now you know how I whored myself out to get where I am. If Jack
found out, he'd never speak to me again. He had hopes for me and I failed him.
I became exactly what he didn't want me to be; a whore."
"I think you know
that's not true. We all do things we regret, but it's knowing the reasons why
we made those decisions that helps us grow beyond the shame and humiliation of
those poor choices. The fact that you rose above yours says everything to
me."
"It does?" Misha
saw his tenderness as he nodded, taking her hand. This time, she didn't pull
away. "How?"
"Yes. I guess the best
way to explain is to compare it to our animals. Let's say Kena had a litter and
was overly protective of it. I put my hand in to touch the puppies and I get
bitten. Whose fault is that?"
"Yours, you big
dummy," Misha forced a smile.
"True. Do I have a
right to be angry with her?"
"No. You violated her
boundaries and probably ignored her warning. It was a stupid move."
"Precisely. I touched
the puppies because Kena's warnings meant nothing to me until that minute. I
did what I wanted to do, without considering her reaction. I have to take
responsibility and accept that being bitten was a consequence of my own
stupidity. If I learn that, then I am capable of making better choices in the future,
and avoiding a nasty bite."
"That makes
sense."
"You and I are so alike
in so many ways. Let's promise not to lie to each other, okay?"
"I'll try. Please don't
tell him."
"I won't say a word.
Since we're being up front about things, I need to tell you the other reason I
chose that piece," Alex said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. Misha
waited. He looked at her. "It's how I could see you. How I wanted you. How
I… desire you."
She blushed. "Naked and
hidden, with my face in the ground?"
"No, submitting to
me."
Misha pulled back, clutching
the tiger cub. Rodin hissed and she relaxed her hold. She was trembling.
"I don't submit to anyone," she choked out gruffly.
"But you want to. You
want the safety of being able to release all your fears and doubts without
worrying that you'll be left alone. You can't deny it. I see it in your eyes
every time you are backed into a corner. I hear it in your voice when we
play."
Shocked by his words, Misha
shook her head. "That is so untrue. I don't want to rely on anybody for
anything."
"Why do you deny
yourself the very thing you desire? I've been at this for a long time. I can
sense the submissive as easily as a lion senses his mate in season."
"You're a psycho. Go
away," Misha suddenly sparked, her self-preservation and suspicious nature
taking over.
"Even the tigress
submits to her mate. She puts up a bit of a fuss, but he knows it is what she
wants. Why are you denying this, Misha?"
"I will not be anyone's
doormat. Not yours, not Jack's, not anybody's!"
"This need has nothing
to do with being a doormat. It doesn't mean you're weak. None of us can do it
alone. Look at Rodin. Full grown, he will be able to take on an opponent and
win. But now, he needs love, nurturing, and direction. Misha, you are so much
like him. Let me give to you what you are giving to him."