Dark Rose

"Yes, please..."

"Okay, turn over." I did so and the unknown woman crawled in behind me. I was conscious of a bare arm around me and a hand taking mine and then I slept again. No more dreams this time.

* * * * *

When I woke up again it was daylight. My night-time saviour was sitting on the edge of the bed, unselfconsciously naked. "Hi there," she said, bright and cheerful, "Feeling better now?"

"Thanks," I nodded, "and thanks for last night."

"No worries," she said, "I've got the makings in my room. Give me a minute and I'll get you a coffee. How'd you take it."

"Black, two sugars."

She was back in a moment with two coffees, still naked. She was a big girl, perhaps six-foot or so, broad shoulders, light-brown hair, with ample red-nippled bouncy boobs and an abundance of slightly darker hair on her pubes. I said 'big' but she wasn't fat, more like well-muscled (not body-builder muscled but rather hard work muscled). She sat on the bed again, held out a hand and said: "I'm Ellie." There was a familiar accent there.

I shook. "I'm Roisin. Call me Rose or Rosie if you like, either will do. You Australian?"

"Nah, New Zealand. We like to think our accent's a little more refined than Oz. You're obviously Irish." She gestured to her unclad body. "Hope you don't mind the outfit, Rosie. It's just me, I like being naked. If I had my way the whole world would be one huge nudist colony."

And that was how I met Ellie who became what was probably the first real friend I ever had.

* * * * *

I've said that the bad dreams were recurring. This doesn't mean that they happened every night—every four to five weeks is about how it was. That didn't make them any easier to cope with as each one was a little worse---in each dream I found myself in that corridor but try as I might I couldn't escape it. And once in that sinister autopsy room, inch by inch, Daddy's corpse seemed to be getting closer to me.

* * * * *

Ellie was lovely and I came to adore her (in a strictly platonic sense---after a few weeks I found myself looking on her as a sister I'd never had). For all that she was several years older than me, she was a true innocent abroad and I found myself looking out for her a lot of the time. I think it was this new-found fondness for Ellie that made me realise how little I had come to care for anyone. That's why it hadn't bothered me when Liliana and others dumped me---I just didn't care about them.

There was a bonus to my friendship with Ellie. She worked in an Indonesian restaurant and was often allowed to bring tasty leftover dishes back for our main meals. If she didn't have anything from her workplace she was a decent cook in her own right. No more living off junk-food and stale sandwiches.

I quickly got used to her penchant for nudity. As she'd told me when we first met, that was just her. She'd get in from her afternoon shift, call me to come and eat and before I could get half-way across the landing she'd be gloriously naked. I couldn't have brought myself to do the same. I guess I'm a bit like an old saying: you can free the girl from Catholic ways but you can't entirely get Catholic ways out of the girl. Something like that, anyway.

Ellie had been brought up on her parents' horse and sheep farm and loved animals. When she left school she'd taken a local college course in simple book-keeping and basic accounting and took on that work from her father. Then despite her love of the farm, she became a bit bored with the same old, same old. With her parents' blessing Ellie had done what a lot of young Aussies and New Zealanders do, she took a couple of years off to cross the world and go bumming round Europe. When she asked me about my family and why I was in Amsterdam I gave her some vague story which seemed to satisfy her.

"Have you got a boyfriend waiting at home?" I once asked her in a private moment.

Her laugh was raucous. "Hell no, I'd sooner be fucked by a yeti than any of the blokes I've ever known. You'd better know now, Rosie, I'm gay. Hope that doesn't scare you off..."

I squeezed her hand. "That's okay Ellie, I'm gay too." With a grin I added: "But I'm not a gay nudist."

There was never any romantic attachment between us, just friendship, but we did make love a few times and it was usually Elli rescuing me from a bad place. The first time I was in that dreadful autopsy room and I must have been a bit loud because Ellie came in and held me until I woke up properly and calmed down.

"That bloody dream again?" she asked.

I nodded. I had never told Ellie the details of the dream. At that time I didn't know her well enough and thought that she might call the cops if she knew everything. Extradition back to Ireland was the last thing I wanted. I told Ellie something that happened to me when a child kept coming back, implying molestation.

"Okay, Rosie, I'm going to stop the dream coming back for tonight, at least, " she told me, "move over." She climbed in and wrapped strong arms around me, pulling me in so that I was crushed up against those lovely big breasts. "Let's get your top off."

"I haven't got much," I mumbled.

"So what? Got nipples, haven't you? Big enough to play with, aren't they? Where's the problem, Rosie? Here, try this..." 'This' was a thick nipple pressed against my lips and I didn't have much choice but to suckle on it. Not that I was objecting.

My t-shirt came off. "Pants too?" asked Ellie, seeking permission. I nodded.

Ellie ran her fingers through my pubes. "Good!" she said, "I like a bit of hair. More natural. When it's too smooth it's like licking a porcelain piss-pot and a load of stubble is like kissing a hedgehog's arse!" She massaged the area gently. "I had a mate at home once, another dyke. One of the horses died and I cried buckets, couldn't stop. Sandra took me for a walk away from the farm and did this for me. Soothed me and I came all over her hand. Twice. Now let's see what I can do for you."

Moving her hand down a little, Ellie started to rub my pussy with her palm and I felt myself getting moist. "That's a good girl," she murmured and slipped one, and then two, fingers into me, at the same time caressing my clit with her thumb. I clung to her, whimpering, and I felt that I was getting close to the edge, far more quickly than usual. Ellie speeded up as she moved her fingers in and out and I came with a little cry.

"There, sweetie, feel better?"

I mumble thanks around whichever nipple I was sucking on and reached between Ellie's legs. She was right, hairy did feel more natural, and she was oozing. I did the same for her as she'd done for me but whereas I came fairly quietly, Ellie let out a yell which could have awakened half of Amsterdam.

Afterwards she said: "Right, now I'm going to cuddle you and keep you safe. Okay?"

"Mmmm."

"No more bad dreams tonight, right?"

"Mmmm."

In the morning we were both a bit sheepish. "About last night..." I started.

"Yeah, about last night... it was nice, Rosie, but... I don't want to upset you... well, I love you as a mate, not as a girlfriend. I just wanted to help you get over the nightmare."

I sighed relief. "Thanks, Ellie, I'm not upset. You're a lovely friend and I feel the same towards you. We'll write it off as you being concerned." (We did make love three or four more times but only in similar circumstances.)

"I've got a confession to make, Rosie," Ellie once said, "I hope it doesn't spoil our friendship. I'm a sub."

"What's that?"

My friend looked astonished that I didn't know. "I'm a sub... a submissive. I like to be dominated, not cruelly but my partner should be like a stern parent putting her child right. You know, like telling me what outfit I'm allowed to wear when we go out or if I could have a second glass of wine, things like that. I enjoy some gentle BDSM too." My puzzlement must have shown because Ellie seemed to be surprised and then explained submission, domination and BDSM to me.

"Oh... that's ... interesting... I guess..." My lack of enthusiasm was evident.

Ellie looked disappointed. "Sounds like it's not for you, is it Rosie?"

"Sorry... no... I don't think so..."

"It's not going to muck things up between us, is it Rosie?"

I pulled her in for a hug. "Of course not, we're good mates and good mates accept you for what you are. They don't just drop each other for petty reasons."

"Well, if ever you fancy trying it, you can be my dom any time."

* * * * *

One day when we'd been friends for several months, Ellie came to me bouncing with excitement. She grabbed my hands and danced me around. "Rosie, I've been offered a six-month job in Italy. There was an elderly couple on holiday in the restaurant today, name of Vitelli. They own vineyards and horses in Tuscany. Their stable girl is going on maternity break. When I said I loved horses and had been brought up with them, they offered me the job. I asked about something for you---they said there was no other position open but if you'd be prepared to do skivvy jobs for food and a bed with a little pocket money, okay."

"Sounds great, Ellie," I replied, "But what about the language problem? I came to places like Amsterdam because so many people speak English."

"No worries," Ellie grinned, "I speak fluent Italian. That's how I got talking to them, when I heard them speaking to each other. My mum's mother is Italian and I grew up talking both languages. I can teach you some. You're a super pal, Rosie. Please say you'll come..."

Who could resist? We were on our way to Tuscany...

* * * * *

The Vitellis were a lovely couple, probably in their late sixties and very warm and welcoming. We moved into the stable girl's hut which was a bit basic but comfortable enough---hell, after where I was brought up almost anything could look good. It was a single room but apart from that not unlike the Amsterdam flats with two bunk-beds, a shower-room and a small kitchen area. I was doing all manner of crap jobs, mostly in the open, and I enjoyed the change. My efforts at learning Italian weren't all that successful but at least I could say 'Good morning' and 'Thank you'.

Ellie was very happy with the horses but a bit twitchy otherwise. She hinted several times she'd like me to be her dom but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Poor Ellie! I felt guilty at not giving what she needed. I simply couldn't. Or I could, I suppose, but it wasn't in my nature and my unwillingness and discomfort would have shown. Ellie was so kind and loving, I believe she would have been upset to think I was going against my own inclinations simply to please her. But there were several evenings, when we had put the horses down for the night, that she seemed ready to bounce off the walls of our accommodation. I decided there was something I could do without getting too deeply involved myself. Ellie owned a set of handcuffs and that gave me inspiration. One morning I borrowed a small item from her bag---I didn't think she'd miss it immediately.

That evening I told her: "Ellie, I've got a fun idea. It's only a little thing but it might please your sub side."

Her eyes lit up, childlike. "What? Tell me... tell me..." For all that Ellie was several years older than me, much of the time I felt like the adult in our friendship.

"Well, I got hold of your handcuff key today. When we closed up the stables tonight, I taped the key on top of one of the lower fence-rails. Supposing I suggest that you strip off, then I cuff you and send you out to find the key. Would you like that? There're quite a few yards of rail to search."

"Oh wow!" she breathed, her clothes already coming off. Hands pinioned, she set out on her adventure. As I said, such a little thing but it seemed to give Ellie so much pleasure.

She was back much sooner than I expected, dangling the cuffs in one hand. She was also wearing a t-shirt I didn't recognise. "You were quick," I commented, "and you found the key easily. And where did that shirt come from?"

Ellie shook her head violently. "I never made it to the stables," she said, "I bumped into two other people in among the vines, Miss Vitelli and her girlfriend." One of the other estate workers had told us that an American niece of the Vitellis and a companion were occupying the estate's guest bungalow, a bit posher than the stable-hands' hut where we slept.

"Oh, that could have been awkward."

Ellie shook her head again. "Well, I tried to hide but they caught me out and they seemed to take it in their stride. Rosie, I think that the girlfriend was doing the same thing I was. She was doing up her blouse and it was out of whack, lop-sided---the buttons were all in the wrong holes like she'd tried to do it up too quickly. And she was clutching what looked like a handful of panties." She started giggling. "And here's the clincher, Miss Vitelli had a handcuff key so she freed me and loaned me this shirt. Rosie, how many people walking at night just happen to have a handcuff key in their pocket?"

Early the next morning when Ellie was exercising the horses and I was mucking out the stables, two women, both much taller than me, approached. "Hi, I'm Zabina Vitelli," one said, "You can call me Zabi. And this is Alex Rowe."

"I'm Roisin Donavan or Rosie if you prefer. Ellie's out with the horses." I put out a hand to shake, realised it had traces of horse-shit and pulled back hastily, wiping it down my overalls.

Zabi grabbed my hand between beautifully manicured ones. "Don't worry," she grinned, "horse droppings are healthy enough, they're only recycled grass and oats after all." Alex followed suit with an enthusiastic handshake.

If I was a lowly Goth, Zabi was an expensive Super-Goth. Her eyes were a fascinating gold-flecked hazel colour and black hair was shaved both sides into a Huron crest with a long braid down the back. She had top to bottom piercings in both ears, tiny silvery rings similar to those in my eyebrows, with a slim steel bar through her left eyebrow. Outstanding was a perfect tattoo of a black rose on her neck, so realistic it could have been freshly plucked.

In contrast, Alex was attractive in a tomboyish way, green-eyed, athletic build and blond hair close-trimmed and tousled. She was wearing shorts revealing a long, nasty-looking scar down the outside of her left leg, the result of a surfing accident she told us later.

"Nice tattoo," I said, pointing to Zabi's neck. I was a little envious of the skin art. I'd always fancied having tattoos but I'd heard so many horror stories about the pain I'd never followed through. My piercings had stung but they were over quickly. Tattoos took time.

"Yes, I'm very proud of it and it's special in more ways than one." Zabi looked lovingly at her companion. "It's what first attracted Alex to me. Before we got together, about once a week she'd come into the restaurant I owned and sit there staring at me. It's a wonder food ever passed her lips. Anyway, I hope we didn't shock Ellie too much last night."

"No," I replied, "I think that once she got over the surprise she quite enjoyed it."

"Good. I think Alex enjoyed it too." Alex added: "You bet!" and both women laughed

"Okay," Zabi continued, "Thing is, we'd like the two of you to come for a meal this evening. Nothing formal and don't think of bringing anything, we've all we need, especially wine---we've got countless barrels of the stuff here."

Following that first encounter, we were invited to supper with Zabi and Alex several times and friendships were born. One of those evenings changed my life forever. We seemed to slip naturally into two pairs: Ellie and Alex, whose sexual recreational tastes were similar, were constantly chuckling together as they swapped stories; Zabi and I would just sit and talk. The impression I had at times was that as we talked, Zabi was studying me very closely with a laser-like eye. It was as if she could read my soul. I must admit to having a very slight crush on Zabi but that's all it was, a slight crush---it was obvious that she and Alex adored each other and I wouldn't be the one to put that at risk. But Zabi was all you could want in a friend: caring, clever and classy---most of all, classy.

Although Zabi had a number of business interests in California, including fashion outlets and similar, she and Alex had come to Tuscany with a view to learning how to manage the vineyards and winery. Zabi's uncle and aunt were considering semi-retirement and hoping that she and Alex would be able to take over.

On the evening in question we had all indulged rather freely in Vitelli estate wines and were probably more open than we might otherwise have been. At one point Alex and Ellie came over to us, Alex dangling two pairs of handcuffs. "We fancy going for a fun run through the vine fields," she said, "if that's okay with you, Zabi."

Zabi waved a languid hand. "Of course, little one. Have fun. But you're both a bit tipsy so be careful in the dark."

Ellie turned to me. "All right with you, Rosie?"

"Yes, why shouldn't it be?" I could have put it a little more kindly, maybe, for a slight flicker of disappointment crossed Ellie's face and I felt a touch of guilt. Then she brightened, the two stripped off, handcuffed themselves together, and set off into the gloom, giggling like schoolgirls.

"I think Ellie would like you to be more dominant," said Zabi.

"I know," I replied, "but I'm afraid it's not in my nature. Even if I was like that, it might not work out---we're just friends, not lovers. It seems to work well for you and Alex, though, with her being submissive."

Zabi shook her head. "It's not that simple for us. She may be submissive for now but we're both switches."

"What's that?"

"We both like being dominant at times and submissive at others. It's a bit more complex than that but the simple explanation will do for the moment. Alex is going through a submissive phase right now. We might change tomorrow or the current situation may last months."

It was the several glasses of potent wine that did it, of that I'm sure. I stood and dropped my jeans. "I'm not making advances, Zabi, I just want you to see this." I pointed to the scars down my legs. "The fruits of my childhood and teen years," I said, "this is why I could never dominate or submit. I couldn't contemplate doing to anyone else what was done to me, even if it was gentle play rather than vicious." And then it all spilled out, the brutal treatment I'd suffered, how I had killed my father and spent the past couple of years on the run, how my dreams served as a constant reminder of my crime.

Zabi showed no sign of shock or horror. Instead she took my hand in hers and said: "You were lying on your bed when your father attacked you. Barefoot?"

"Yes."

"On your back or your side---what?"

I thought for a moment. "On my side as far as I can recall."

"Doesn't sound like a position to deliver any kind of powerful kick, let alone a lethal one."

I shrugged. "Whatever, I'll be spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."

Zabi shook her head. "Not necessarily. I've got a suggestion. Why not go to the States when Ellie's contract here finishes? I'll cover your air-fares. As for when you get there, my family has a number of businesses in California and we can find work for you. I'm sure Ellie would like to go with you. I think both of you would find our nightclub interesting---it's called The Ascension and is a little... unusual. Regarding accommodation, we have an apartment overlooking Venice beach. Alex and I intend to stay in Italy for the foreseeable future so the apartment's yours for as long as you need it and rent-free. It'll just be a relief to know that it's being cared for."

"Oh, but that's a grand idea," I said, tone sarcastic, "And here's me without a passport and likely to be arrested by Immigration and deported to Ireland as soon as I get off the plane."