Promises Pt. 03

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are at least eighteen years old.

As always, any political, social or religious views in this story are those of the characters and their circumstances, and don't necessarily reflect those of the author.

SPECIAL NOTE: Be aware that part of this installment includes a character's recounting of a disturbing and nonconsensual situation in her past. It's necessary because a large part of the story's plot revolves around it and its effects on the character. I've edited it a bit to make it less graphic than in its first publication, but it's still not pretty.

* * * * *

PART THREE -- Disturbing Secrets are Revealed

"Hey Kira," I say, keeping my voice mild and casual despite my inner agitation, "I need to visit the boy's room. I'll be back in a bit." Then, a little louder, "I'm sure no one will bother you while I'm gone." Several male heads casually turn away.

"'Kay."

I feel bad about not telling Kira what I'm up to, but if she acts the least bit suspicious, I probably won't be able to pull this off. I walk to the restrooms, set at the back of the beach area against the overgrowth, but I don't go in. Instead, I go around the far side and melt into the jungle. I have to circle around because there are a group of twelve bungalows situated just inside the foliage.

Walking through the jungle in the nude is a strange experience. Just me and the wilderness. I'm feeling like a true primitive, but I'm careful about where I step, both to protect my bare feet and to stay as quiet as possible.

I approach him from behind. He's got his towel spread at the back of the beach, almost in the trees, and nowhere near anyone else, which makes what he's doing possible, but also works well for me. He looks to be in his late fifties, quite short, and thin to the point of being bony, but with a large potbelly. He's winter pale and wearing a ridiculous little Speedo.

At the last second, my foot comes down on a dried leaf and makes just a small sound. The guy's head whips around. When he sees me, he's off like a shot, leaving everything behind. The fact that he knows to run should be proof enough. I start after him, but after a few steps I pull up. There's no need to run him down. I walk over to where his stuff is spread on his towel.

His beach bag has the Hidden Springs logo on it, and all it's got in it is his shorts, sandals and shirt. No ID or anything like that, but it's the expensive item he's left behind that I really want. I feel very little guilt about wrapping it in his shirt and taking it with me as I walk back across the beach.

Kira is still on her back as I approach. Her face is pointing the other direction, perhaps watching for my return. I startle her a little when I sit down on my towel.

Her head whips around to look at me. "Where did you come from?"

"I stopped to visit a friend and picked this up along the way," I say, indicating the wrapped item in my hand.

"What is it?"

"Let's check it out together."

I glance over at where I've just come from. The towel and beach bag are gone. We reassemble our makeshift sunshade, then put our heads together.

Digital SLR's have come a long way, and this one is top of the line, with an ungodly number of megapixels and a very large telephoto lens. "Who exactly did you get this from?" Kira asks.

"The nice fellow up in the trees who was taking pictures of us. He decided to take off when I showed up, so I didn't get a chance to introduce myself."

"You stole this?"

"I borrowed it. Depending on what's on it, I might even return it."

I'm fiddling with the controls. My cheaper camera at home is the same brand and works pretty much the same way, so we're reviewing the pictures within seconds, beginning with the oldest.

The first shots are of random women on the beach, most of them still in suits. Then there's one of Kira spreading her towel, one where she's pushing her suit down over her knees, and another of the two of us standing face to face with Kira staring at my erection. Again, I marvel at the magnitude of our size difference.

"Why was he taking pictures of us?" Kira murmurs.

"Because you're by far the most beautiful woman on the beach."

"Harrumph."

There are a bunch of long-range pictures of Kira and me running out into the surf, then one of her high in the air, a shocked look on her face. This is followed by a couple of pictures of me holding her in my arms out beyond the surf line.

Next, there are quite a few pictures of other nude and topless women walking around or lounging on their towels. Then there are several amazingly clear shots of Kira and me out at the buoy, especially from when I was holding her to my chest. Our expressions clearly show we were having a serious discussion.

He took some more pictures of women who were evidently shedding their suits as we were swimming in, but then the focus is back on Kira as I carry her back up onto the beach on my shoulders. There are a ton of pictures of us applying sunscreen to each other. After that come pictures of Kira all by herself on the towel. The last shot is a blurred image of the jungle. He must have pressed the shutter as he dropped the camera and ran.

"He's got a serious crush on you," I say.

I glance over at Kira, expecting her to be a bit embarrassed, but she's seriously upset to the point of being near tears. "Hey, Kira, it's just pictures. And I'm going to erase them."

"What am I going to do?" she asks, her voice cracking. "I think I may have screwed up royally, coming here. I should have known that Angelo wouldn't just let me walk away."

"Wait, you're not saying that the creep has something to do with your husband, are you?"

"It's all right there on the camera. He knows I'm here and he hired a private detective to get some dirt on me."

"How could he know you're here?"

"I don't know, but he has a lot of resources at his disposal," Kira says. "And that guy is still out there. He could be watching us." She ducks out from under the towel and reaches into her bag for her suit.

"Okay," I say. "We've probably had enough sun for one day in any case."

Our freewheeling vacation mood destroyed now, we pull on our suits and gather our things, then troop back toward the hotel. We're gritty with sand, goopy with sunblock, and chafing from the salt water, so when we get back to our room, we take turns in the shower.

Kira goes first, so I take the opportunity to call the front desk. A male voice answers with a New York accent of all things, so I know it's not Raul.

"I'm calling to let you know about a serious lack of security at your resort," I say, sounding quite concerned, but not quite belligerent. I peek around the corner into the bathroom and see that Kira is still in the shower, so I walk in and noisily go through my Dopp kit by way of an excuse to be on the other side of the curtain from her. I want Kira to hear this conversation.

"I'm sorry to hear that sir. What seems to be the problem?"

"Your brochure said that the clothing optional beach was 'discreet and private.' Explain to me just how discreet and private it is if some creep is out there waving a huge camera around and taking nude photos of my wife?"

Kira snorts loudly from the other side of the curtain.

"Sir, I'm very sorry to hear that," he sputters. "We normally have at least one member of security on the beach at all times. I'll check into it and find out where the slip-up occurred."

"Well, it will be quite unfortunate for the resort if those photos ever see the light of day, because in that event I will contact my legal staff and sue this resort for the kind of money that will forever encourage its management to make damn certain that their guests' privacy is protected."

"Sir, I will immediately alert management to the issue. You can rest assured that the beach will be properly patrolled in the future."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll expect to see uniformed security out there henceforth."

"I'll see to it personally, sir," he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Please do," I say, then hang up.

"Wife?" Kira asks, sticking her head around the edge of the curtain. She seems to be amused, but also grateful that I'm taking this seriously.

"Hey, that's what it says on the registration."

"Touché."

* * * * *

When I'm done, I sit on the bed, leaning back against the big, padded headboard. Kira gets up from her computer and surprises me by snuggling up against my side. I'm already dressed in what I intend to wear to the restaurant tonight, but she's in a bathrobe. I wrap an arm around her, as always liking the feel of her against me.

I've promised to be a gentleman and that our vacation would be platonic, but what's on my mind right now is how much I want to kiss her. Somehow, this little slip of a girl has wedged her way into my heart in a manner that no other woman has even begun to do. After dating as much as I have, I thought that any long-term relationship I eventually formed would consist of me keeping up my front long-term. But with Kira, my heart is open for the first time. I want so much more from her. I want to ask her... but I promised.

"Can you tell me more about the situation with your husband?" I ask instead.

"Yeah, but it'll make a lot more sense if I tell you the story from the beginning," she says.

"That's always the best place to start."

"See, it kind of begins with my size. I was normal at birth and for the first few months, but then I started to grow much more slowly than average. My parents were concerned, but my pediatrician said I was fairly normal and that eventually I'd get a growth spurt and catch up. Unfortunately, it took my parents a long time to realize that he had no clue what he was talking about.

"They finally took me to a specialist who diagnosed me with Growth Hormone Deficiency. With hormone therapy, I gained four inches the year I was eleven, but then I stopped growing altogether not long after I turned twelve. Four foot five is what I'm stuck with.

"I got teased a lot for being so small, so I kind of just retreated into my own world of books and writing. At least with no outside activities, I had time to write and study. I was too timid to go off to college, so I enrolled in an online degree program, but when my parents died near the end of my freshmen year, I was so devastated that I gave up on it. I was an only child and had no other close relatives, so I felt totally alone in the world.

"It turned out that my folks had been in debt up to their eyeballs and didn't leave me much of anything. I was making money by doing editing for a publishing house, but it wasn't enough to make payments on the house and the mortgage was underwater anyway, so I turned it over to the bank.

"My friend Bethany Kozlowski was three years older than me and had just graduated from Berkeley. She was moving back to Minneapolis to get her master's locally, so we got an apartment together that summer. Her dad was an attorney and he got me an interview for a file clerk job with his firm. I got the job and he was kind enough to drive me to work and back with him. I was too timid to get a driver's license.

"I'd only been working at Hopkins, Peterson and Chen for a few weeks when one of the associates began to stop and chat with me every now and then. Angelo was barely five foot one and thin as a rail. He was reasonably good looking, though, and not terribly intimidating to talk to, especially in a professional setting. After a couple months of that, he asked me out. It was my very first date.

"Angelo took me to a really nice restaurant and seemed like a perfect gentleman. He admitted that he'd done very little dating himself. I think he was almost as nervous as I was. He was a decade older than me, but we seemed to have a lot in common. I felt that I had to be honest with him, though, so I told him about my condition."

"Condition?"

She looks up and meets my eyes. "Peter, I'm going to be just as honest with you as I was with Angelo, even though it's... well... embarrassing." She takes a deep breath. "I have Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser Syndrome."

That's a mouthful, and doesn't sound good. "I'm not familiar with that one."

Her voice is nearly inaudible. "It's a woman's disorder. Basically, it means that I was born without a vagina. I have all the usual external paraphernalia, so I look normal, but I have no vaginal canal or uterus."

I've let my guard down so much that I almost let the distress show on my face. This is awful news. I've been falling hard for a girl who is never going to be able to have intercourse with me, and would never be able to bear me the children I want so very much. Almost is the operative word, though, and I quickly come up with words and an expression that I hope won't reveal just how devastated I am.

"Kira, I'm so sorry. That's awful. I've never even heard of anything like that."

For her part, Kira is obviously working hard not to let her own pain show. The embarrassment is more obvious. "Well, it's pretty rare, but maybe one in five thousand women have it. Not all is lost, though. All of my, uh, outer stuff works just fine. I even lubricate when I get horny. I'm also lucky because I do have ovaries and the normal female hormones that come with them. Other than my lack of a vaginal canal and uterus, the only thing that's different about me is that I don't grow pubic or underarm hair. My doctor says she doesn't know why, but supposedly it's not due to the MRKH."

"So what did Angelo do when you told him?"

"Well, I expected him to get up and walk out."

"But he obviously didn't."

"And neither have you," she says. "Thank you, Peter."

"Why would I walk out? It doesn't affect any of the things I like about you." Though it would affect some of the things I think I would have potentially liked about her.

"You're a good man, Peter."

That embarrasses me, so I change the subject. "What did Angelo have to say about it?"

"He already knew."

"What? How did he find out?"

"Evidently, someone in Human Resources got careless and copied him on an email to our health insurance company. He'd looked up MRKH and had been intrigued. He said it was one of the reasons he had asked me out in the first place."

"Really? Did he want a date or a lesson in women's medicine?"

"Actually, he admitted to me that he had a problem of his own. He said that due to some medical issues during his childhood, he was impotent."

I think about that for a bit. "So, he figured that your two conditions would be complementary?"

"Well, I could see the logic in it. He seemed kind of embarrassed to talk about it, but he said he figured he would enjoy other types of sexual activity."

I don't like the mental picture that follows, and suddenly realize that I'm jealous. That's not something I've ever felt about a woman's previous partners before, but this is Kira we're talking about. "Well, yeah," I say, almost reluctantly. "There's a lot more to sex than just intercourse."

"That's what I figured too. I liked him, and he treated me well. One thing led to another and after only three months, he proposed and I accepted. We didn't do anything sexual during our engagement, though. I was willing, but Angelo said he was raised in a strict Catholic tradition and didn't believe in any form of premarital sex. I worried that we might not be sexually compatible, especially since we hadn't really talked about what kind of sex we would have. Still, I was a nineteen-year-old virgin and figured it would all just work out.

"We got married on my twentieth birthday," she continues. "I was excited about our wedding night and was ready to do whatever it took to make our sex life work for both of us. Unfortunately, when I got my courage up and did a little strip tease for him in our bedroom that night, he asked me to stop when I was down to my panties. He apologized, but said he just didn't find my naked body attractive."

I shake my head. "Not only is Angelo monumentally ignorant about what's attractive," I say, "he's also a grade-A asshole for saying something like that to you. And on your wedding night." On the other hand, it makes me secretly happy that he didn't touch her in that way.

Kira nods. "I realize now that I was being hopelessly naïve because I actually apologized to him for not being pretty enough. I hoped that as we spent more time together, he'd come around."

"I can't imagine that with such a rocky start, things would just magically improve."

"And you'd be right, of course. But as disappointing as it was, over the next year it went from bad to worse. Angelo told me it was unseemly for me to work my low-paying job since he was a senior associate at the same firm. He had me quit, but at least I had more time to write. But then he started doing other things, little by little, to isolate me from the outside."

"Like what?"

"Well, first he told me he disapproved of my friends, the few that I still had. I stopped seeing them to make him happy, but he didn't introduce me to any of his. I wanted to start working on my online degree again, but he said there was no reason for me to do that since I wasn't going to have a career. He gave me no cash and had me buy everything with a credit card, probably so he could track my purchases. He said he didn't like the way I looked in makeup and only let me wear it on the rare occasions when we went out in the evening."

"Knowing you now, I'm amazed that you would have put up with that," I say.

"You've never met Teri, only Kira. I was so timid that a sharp look from Angelo could make me back down, even when I knew I was in the right. Soon I was almost totally isolated. Angelo had me ordering groceries through a service, and any time I needed to go out for clothes or anything like that, he would hover over me the whole time.

"He had an alarm system installed so that in the unlikely event I left the house, he'd get a text. Then he'd call me, ostensibly worried that I was putting myself in danger. As a matter of fact, my phone rang about five seconds after I got back into the house on that morning when I met you."

"So you were a virtual prisoner?"

"Yeah, but I resented it and wanted to rebel in whatever small ways I could. One morning, after my shower, I realized that the panties I really wanted to wear were in the load I'd put in the dryer the night before. Even though Angelo had already left for work, I was about to put on my bathrobe to go get them, but then it occurred to me that since no one would see me, it would probably be okay if I didn't wear the robe. I hadn't been nude anywhere but the bathroom since our wedding night, so it felt weird and a little scary, walking through our big house with nothing on.

"I knew that Angelo would hate it if he knew what I was doing, and that added to the thrill. When I got to the laundry room and was about to pull my panties on, I decided I'd wait until I'd folded the whole load. Then I decided to wait until I'd finished the rest of the laundry. Then it was 'after the dishes.' By noon, I was reprogramming the thermostat to keep the house a few degrees warmer during the hours he was gone.

"I started spending all of my alone time in the nude. It let me feel a little bit like I was free. I especially liked working naked in the greenhouse, feeling the sunshine on my bare skin. I wouldn't throw my clothes on until I heard the ding of the alarm when the garage door started to open."