The Sitters Club

Mandy's eyes met mine, an unspoken command passed. I kneeled beside Paulina then crouched over her, slipped my cock into her mouth, and she, so accepting now, took it. Mandy crawled down her body, went down on her, our slave princess, and we used her as a vessel, filled her up with our lust.

When I woke up, Paulina was beside me, pressed as close as possible, her body weak and tired, but her eyes wide open and watching me. On her other side was Mandy, fast asleep, no panties, but her black dress still on, pulled up sloppily past her hips. I had fucked her several times as well, for the first time in a long time, but she hadn't allowed me to come inside her, she had forced me to come on Paulina each time.

Paulina looked used up, the sparkle in her eyes had burned out. She placed her arm over my chest and hugged me close.

"You can never let me go now," she said, her voice hoarse, "you and her."

I said nothing to her. What could I say? What I had done was inconceivable, unconscionable. I had taken something pure and destroyed it.

"You can't."

"I know."

The next morning, when we all woke up, there were no words spoken. Paulina watched Mandy silently as she stepped out of bed, took off her fancy dress and tossed it in the corner, then slipped into a light robe. She looked down at Paulina with a look of pity on her face.

"Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up, sweetheart."

Paulina did as she was told, disappearing into the bathroom, and before long, the sound of the shower began. Mandy slipped back into bed and snuggled up beside me.

"How do you feel, Jack?"

I stared at her, my eyes open and uncomprehending. "I feel—what I did to that poor girl—"

"You can never get well until you face your sickness. Paulina knew why she was here."

I stayed silent. Nothing I could have said, nothing she could have said, would have taken away the feeling of dread inside me.

"You were wonderful last night, Jack. We haven't made love in so long. Not since we lost the…"

But I wasn't listening to her. What we had done wasn't making love; it was something far beneath that. Far beneath. I wasn't even sure I knew how to love anymore.

The shower turned off. A few minutes later, Paulina emerged from the bathroom, dressed again in her jeans and sorority sweatshirt, looking a bit more pale and haggard than she had the night before. She stood at the end of the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, unsure of what to say. Mandy rose from the bed, found her purse on top of the dresser, and began to pick through it. What she took from it was a wad of cash.

God, she can't do it like this, can she?

"Seven dollars an hour, I think we said," she told Paulina, who could only stand motionless, her eyes locked on the money in Mandy's hand. Mandy held it out to her, and Paulina only stared. "Here's eighty-four, thank you so much, sweetheart."

A shaky hand reached for the money, clutched it until her knuckles turned white. Paulina shifted her tired eyes to me as if looking for answers, and I wanted to vomit. I wanted to take the money from her, throw it on the bed and light it on fire, I wanted to burn the whole God damned thing down, the house, myself, Paulina, Mandy.

But I did nothing. Mandy placed her hand gently on the small of Paulina's back and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"I'll see you at the meeting on Sunday, okay?"

"Okay… Professor Ellison."

As she walked out of the room, Paulina's eyes met with mine for a moment, and then she was gone.

That day, when Mandy went back to class, it was as if nothing happened. My day carried on as usual, I watched television, drank beer, made lunch for Robbie, slept away the afternoon in my beat up easy chair. In the middle of it all, I thought about Paulina, about the glow of life in her eyes that I had stolen from her.

To make matters worse, Robbie was incredibly distant with me all day. He didn't even eat the lunch I prepared for him. When he wasn't hiding away in his room, he was standing there, on the staircase, not speaking, only watching me. The look in his eyes was that of silent judgment, as if he knew everything that had gone on the night before, and now even he condemned me for my sickness.

As evening settled, I wandered upstairs to the bed, laid down, tried to pick up Paulina's scent from the sheets I had not yet cleaned. She was there, all over. Mingled with my scent and Mandy's, but she was there.

I settled into the bed, hoping if I closed my eyes, I could imagine what it was like to be there with her, sharing loving, tender moments. In my mind, there was no leather or chains, no pain or tears. In my mind, I didn't use her, nor did we use each other, rather, in our moments of breathless ecstasy, we made each other whole, two pieces of something broken brought back together. And in my mind, Mandy wasn't there.

Before my imagination could wander any further, the sound of the front door opening echoed up the stairs. I slipped from the comfort of the bed where I had taken Paulina and moved to the top of the stairs. Mandy was there, and following the monotony of my day, I was pleased to see her. But she had with her another girl.

She gazed up the stairs at me and smiled. "I brought home a sitter, Jack. For Robbie."

The girl had a stuck-up air about her, and I disliked her almost immediately. She had a wise grin on her face as she spoke, like she knew something I didn't. "Yeah," she said, "I'm here to watch Robbie."

Her name was Linda, or Lisa, or something. She was nothing like Paulina; she was older, more aggressive. When we discussed her pay, she demanded eight dollars an hour. Paulina had demanded nothing. Even when we tied her down, she was noisy and belligerent, demanding to be fucked, not submitting. Her moans were loud and transparent, probably the same noises she used when she fucked Jimmy Frat-boy in the back of his pickup truck on Friday night. She was not sweet, she was not pure, she was used already.

And so it was with the other girls Mandy brought home. They were all different, they felt different, smelled different, tasted different. Like nothing. I was nothing with them. Night after night, Mandy brought sitters home, all of them Sigma Sigma Delta sisters, all of them the same, yet none of them like Paulina. I found myself becoming repulsed by them, to the point that I could hardly bear to be with them, yet it was only through sheer will and my sickness that I took them.

It wasn't until a Monday night, two weeks later, that I saw Paulina again. That night, when Mandy arrived home, Linda or Lisa was with her. I could hardly bring myself to look at the disgusting girl, her face was plastered with makeup, her body packed into a tiny, form-fitting red dress that exaggerated every curve of her filthy body so that she looked like a hooker. When she saw me, her ruby-red painted lips curled into a sneer.

"Hi, lover. I'm here to baby-sit for Robbie again." She laughed.

And Mandy laughed. She was still my wife, and I loved her as much as I could love anybody, but at that single moment, I resented her for bringing that filthy cow back into our house.

I was unable to hide the scorn on my face any longer, and I knew both of them could see it. The girl only snickered, and I could see that my scorn was only making her more excited.

"What's wrong, lover?"

"You disgust me—"

Mandy stepped forward, shocked. "Jack!"

"It's okay, Professor," the girl said, her voice so full of sass that I would have done anything to shut her up, "he's just feeling a little hostile because it's been so long." She moved closer to me, and I stepped away, not wanting to be touched by her, not wanting to be anywhere near her.

"You're a filthy little bitch," I said, my voice not much more than a hoarse growl. "I fucking hate you."

"But it doesn't stop you from fucking me," the soothing, melodic tone of her voice making me want to choke her."

"I fuck you because I'm sick."

"That's right, Jack," Mandy said, her eyes full of panic, as if she knew what I wanted to do to this girl. "You're very sick, Jack, but everything's going to be okay."

"It's not. You brought her home."

"I did it for you, Jack. All of them. I did it because you're sick and you needed them."

The girl turned and scowled at Mandy. "Wait," she said, her voice full of attitude, "what do you mean all of them? All of who? What, are you fucking all of the sisters?"

I kept my eyes locked on the girl, despised everything about her, the way her face crinkled angrily when she spoke, the way she jabbed her finger accusingly in the air. She turned to me, and the anger disappeared, replaced by a contemptuous smile.

"Oh, I get it. Mister—I'm sorry, Doctor Psychopath here can't get his jollies with just one girl, he needs variety—"

"Shut up, god damn you," I muttered, my fists clenching at my sides, my fingernails buried in my palms.

"Lisa, you have to stop this," Mandy said, "you have to stop, otherwise Jack is going to do something, isn't that right, Jack?"

"Jack isn't going to do shit, we all know who wears the pants in this house, don't we?"

"Stop it," Mandy continued, "stop it now or you'll make him do something rash. Jack, it's okay, you don't have to do anything, everything will be okay, I know you're very sick, but—"

"Oh for Christ's sake," Mandy taunted, "he's not going to do shit, he's a loser, a fucking sick loser—"

"No, Jack, don't—"

"—stupid-ass loser—"

"—Jack—"

It was like their voices were pounding viciously and ceaselessly against my skull, making my head hurt through and through. Their voices—all I wanted to do was quiet them, to make it all stop. I wanted to fade away, slip back up the stairs, collapse into bed and think about Paulina. Paulina, sweet Paulina, who only spoke when she knew it was appropriate. She was not a slut, she was not a slut, she was an angel of a girl who I took advantage of, and now I was paying the consequences, paying dearly with the horrible words pouring out of Lisa's whorish mouth.

"Jack!"

There was one horrible second, which played through my eyes in slow motion, as I saw the girl's dirty tongue poke out between her lips in a childishly defiant gesture, and when I made the decision to grab for her, I saw a smile playing on the corners of my wife's mouth, her eyes twinkling with excitement. She was enjoying it, every second. My hand lashed out and clutched a wad of Lisa's hair. I dragged her close to me, then forced her down on her knees. She only smiled.

"Ooh, Daddy wants to play rough now. What would poor little Robbie say if he saw you treating his beloved babysitter like this?"

I wanted to shut that awful mouth. With my free hand, I pulled my zipper down.

"Go ahead, Jack," Mandy said, "do it. Shut her fucking mouth."

I reached into my pants, pulled my cock out, and though I hadn't realized it, it had already gotten hard in the past minutes. I couldn't understand why. Just the sight of this girl made me want to vomit my guts out. In a flash, however, her mouth was on me, and mercifully quiet except for the voracious sucking sounds. My hands still clutching her hair firmly, I watched her red lips engulfing me, wishing they were Paulina's. I glanced up at my wife, whose eyes locked with mine.

"It's okay, Jack," she said, sadness in her eyes, "everything's okay."

And then everything changed, the world blurred, grew dim, fuzzy. I saw the next minutes from outside of my body, a third-person looking from the outside in.

There was a sharp knock on the front door, and Mandy opened it.

Paulina. She looked even more emaciated than she had that morning two weeks ealier. Her hair, coarse, unwashed, stringy. Dark patches beneath her eyes, she hadn't been sleeping. Lips chapped and broken, nails chewed off, skin pale. She was wearing her baggy sorority sweatshirt, and beneath it I could imagine her small, sallow breasts.

Absolutely beautiful. My Paulina.

Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Lisa on her knees before me, and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. Her hand went to clamp over her mouth. I stared back at her, not wanting her to see me like this.

"I'm sorry, Paulina," I said, "I had to, I'm very sick."

Lisa pulled her mouth off me with a wet sucking sound and turned to look at Paulina.

"Surprise, surprise," Lisa said, "another babysitter?"

"Leave," Paulina uttered, voice rough and gravelly.

"Forget it, Paulie, it's my job tonight."

Paulina, God bless her, only glared hatefully at girl. She reached into her back pocket and revealed something I couldn't quite make out from where I stood. It was Lisa's turn to be shocked, and she jumped quickly to her feet. My face red with shame, I pulled my cock back into my pants and zipped. Mandy only stayed by the door; none of this seemed to be a surprise to her.

"Paulie, what the hell are you doing with that," Lisa said, and I could hear panic in her voice, "you know you're not supposed to take that out of the house."

"Leave," Paulina repeated, and I could see through the haze that she was holding a gun. A revolver, snubnose .38 by the look of it. Loaded.

"I'm calling the police," Lisa said, but she seemed to lack conviction. She very carefully tiptoed to the front door, as if walking quietly would save her from a bullet. But Paulina stepped out of her way, and Lisa, without taking her eyes off the girl, slipped out the front door. As soon as she was gone, Paulina stepped in the house and closed the front door.

She looked at me, her eyes glazed over with tears. "How could you?"

I was speechless. "I—I'm very sick, Paulina, I'm so sorry..."

"Not you," she said to me, and turned to Mandy, whose eyes widened in horror, and she slowly backed away.

"Paulina, sweetheart, I never meant to—"

"You told me to come here tonight, you bitch." Paulina had the pistol fixed firmly on Mandy, who held her hands up defensively. "You knew, you knew what would happen. How could you do this to me? To him?"

For a moment, I thought Mandy was about to cry. I hadn't seen her cry in years, not since that day in the hospital. She gazed at Paulina with an expression bordering on envy. "I did this because it wasn't supposed to happen this way," Mandy said, "he wasn't supposed to fall in love with you."

But in a heartbeat, the sadness disappeared from Mandy's face, replaced by the expression of professionalism I had seen countless times before. It was her psychologist look, her analyst look. She wiped her eyes absently and straightened up again. "Paulina, dear, you're very sick, now I can help you, but you need to—"

"Stop talking to me like that, you ugly bitch!"

There was a deafening pop, and I saw Mandy fall to the floor. Oh my God, what have I done? I ran over to my wife, dropped to my knees next to her. I felt numb, but when feeling came back into my body, it was all pins and needles. This is all my fault. Blood was quickly pooling on the floor beneath Mandy, and I knew I couldn't help her. I had seen her bleed like this once before, years ago, during the third month of her pregnancy, but I hadn't been able to help her then, either.

...all my fault.

Mister Ellison, we have some bad news...

I turned to Paulina, the roaring sound of blood rushing through my head, dizzy, frightened. I didn't dare turn around, I didn't dare look and see if Robbie was watching all this from the stairs, because I knew he was. I couldn't look at him now.

"Paulina, please go call an ambulance," my voice was calm, but she didn't seem to hear me. She only stared expressionless at the body of my wife.

"Why did she do it to you, Jack?"

"Paulina..."

"She let you think you were sick for so long, when all you wanted—" her voice choked off and a tear ran down her cheek, "—all you wanted to do was remember. How could she take it away from you?"

"I don't understand, Paulina. Can you please go call someone? She'll die."

"She's already dead."

Of course I knew she was right. There was so much blood, and Mandy had turned a ghostly shade of white.

Mister Ellison, I'm very sorry, but the baby...

It's Doctor Ellison...

"All the lies," Paulina muttered, "and then she made you—" she stopped, her free hand dropping to her belly, an expression of horror passing over her face. I watched dumbly as she raised the pistol, pressed it under her chin.

"God, Paulina, no—"

And there was a flash.

I remember everything now, standing over the grave of my wife. It's all beginning to grow blurry, like the memory of a nightmare. Afterwards, the newspaper, the media, called it a love triangle tragically ended. There was no triangle. I loved Paulina, and she loved me.

The sisters of Sigma Sigma Delta never breathed a word. They said everything had been fine, except for Paulina's behavior, which had grown increasingly erratic over a period of weeks. Even the whore Lisa claimed not to know. It doesn't matter; Lisa, the other sisters of Sigma Sigma Delta, none of them matter now, they mean nothing.

"Just you and me now, buddy."

I bend down and carefully place a bouquet of flowers in front of the gravestone. Robbie, as usual, watches me silently, standing off to the side where I can barely see him out of the corner of my eye. But he's always there. I can't do it alone; I'll need to find him another sitter soon.

Mandy, my dear, you're the only one that understood.

I run my fingers over the lettering engraved in the stone: 'Amanda E. Ellison, beloved daughter, wife, 1963-2003.'

"You and me now, buddy."