the karmic feast
the domestic minx
36 Comments
I like to believe in Karma.
There is delicious pleasure in amusing myself with visions of poetic justice and a timely taste of the just desserts; for there is nothing more satisfying than a good comeuppance.
Indeed, dear reader, there are countless times I have been forced, in the enactment of my own karmic feast, to eat my words, suffer a slice of humble pie and wear a little egg on my face.
And for one who enjoys a little haute cuisine, it has never been a dish I've enjoyed, for it is inevitably accompanied by a scarlet demeanour, an uncomfortable griping of the lower intestines and the wretched smear of shame.
Yet it is a dish I am fully familiar with and one which I first had a good taste of in the thick of my teenage years.
I was a typical private school girl and flaunted my teen spirit with reckless abandon.
Proud, cocky and arrogant, I drove my mother mad with my incorrigible smart arse, my sharp tongue and my ballsy bravado.
No one could tell me a thing, for I was seventeen and knew it already. My hauteur was horrendous, my hubris knew no bounds.
All good advice regarding boys, booze and the "bad stuff" was taken with a nod, a wink and a raspberry behind my poor mums back; the grain of salt I added to anything submitted by 'the olds' thrown over my shoulder with a foolhardy flourish.
"Bring it on!" I'd shout at The Devil, "Is that all you've got!"
For I wanted more and I wanted it immediately. I was greedy for experience and all the dark and delicious pleasures that sat as His accompaniment.
The spiral into debauchery sent me spinning from one party to another, drunk on indulgence and insurrection and the overconsumption of anything that slid down my throat and got me high.
My grades suffered, my attitude disintegrated and a vile combination of insurgence and indulgence that resulted in the inevitable expulsion from school on the eve of my final exams.
Yet I cared not.
I was a runaway train that the proverbial lock and key could not constrain.
Degenerate and devious, I found ways to escape.
And I did of course, until I was caught.
It's just a shame it was not my mother that caught me this time, instead of a web too dark and dangerous for me to pit my wits against.
Oh, I couldn't believe my luck when I met him.
He left my schoolboy friends for dead.
Smooth and streetwise, uncomfortably handsome and intriguing in the way that all older men were to me, I fell straight into his trap. Ah, forgive me, I strode in, wearing a red dress.
And while I cannot tell you his name, dear reader, I can assure you his name means Karma in any one of the world's tongues and he arrived bearing a lesson I learned the hard way.
He also came with baggage:
Three suitcases filled with more drugs than I will ever see in a lifetime, and something far worse, that I simply will not discuss...
I will spare you much of the horrible detail, dear readers, except to say that at seventeen I was far less experienced, far less scarlet than my demeanour and dress implied.
But I was a good deal more foolish.
And terribly, deceptively, dangerously naive.
After luring me back to his hotel room for a drink on the balcony before the movie we had arranged to see, he proceeded to introduce me to the contents of his suitcase. I was intrigued of course, fascinated by the chance to walk on the wild side with this handsome dangerman, ridiculously, unbelievably unaware of the course my path was taking me.
"Try it" he whispered, pulling a spliff from one of the cases, "You've never had anything as good as this before, I promise you.."
"Oh yes, I've tried it heaps of times." I crowed. "It doesn't really affect me."
"I guarantee you'll be purring like a pussycat after this," he winked, as my lips surrounded the weed. "While you sit and relax, I'll just get dressed and then we're off to that movie."
I remember smiling as he left the room, curled into a ball on the sofa, the smug certainty of my charms deluding me to the danger of my situation, the haze of marijuana smudging my senses in a rapture I had never experienced before.
Oh, what a coquette I was, what a saucy soubrette indeed, enchanting such a man of the world, beguiling him with my minx, fascinating him with my fabulous insouciance and mischievous wit. I imagined the wonderful times we were going to have together, watching movies, having lush and lavish dinner dates, partying til all hours, wrapped in each others arms as one day we made sweet and endless love, or fucked each other hard heavy hot, whatever, right now it was as languid as a Langkawi day and it was all going so ...mmm... I gazed out the hotel window to the setting sun, the errant vapours about me fluorescent and merging with the orange light in a miasma mordant and mesmerising.
I closed my eyes to the crazy collusion of colours, stretching my legs out in front of me, pulling the drug closer to my lips once more, not really sure what else to do with the treasure my friends would have killed for, drawing on it deeply, closing my eyes to the delirium that was slowly disabling me.
It was dark as he stood before me, his shadow blocking the sun as it descended into the sea in a final hurrah.
It was darker still as he drew the curtains behind him, the turgid announcement of his intentions as certain as the whiff of karma that wafted around me.
"The movie," I slurred as his mouth covered mine, red dress pulled away as he cupped my breasts and pushed himself on top of me.
"Mmm, you're just a little kitten, aren't you," he whispered into my ear as he lifted my red dress to my waist.
"So soft, so little", kissing me as he breathed deeply against my neck, pulling down my panties as he thrust himself against my body helpless now, entering me despite my cries, pushing deeply inside me as I squealed and pushed against him, my fear, my pain, my cries lost against the side of his neck as his thrusting pushed me against the back of the sofa, the fragile fluttering of my beautiful butterfly futile, pierced by the pin of his cruel lepidoptery, tears rolling down my cheeks as he moaned against my ear, his moans, his awful moans echoing the ruin, the pain and the horrible, horrible desolation.
It was wretched and it hurt like hell. I will spare you the uncomfortable details of my sordid experience, dear reader, suffice to say that my pillaging continued, uninterrupted, unabated for an ungodly time; there was no escape and no respite, my will depleted, my fight dissipated by that which I had sought so hard.
"You're such a little pussycat," he whispered; the dangerman delivering me home that night as if nothing had happened.
It may as well not have, for although I could barely walk, more disturbingly, I could not talk.
There was not a soul with whom I could share my tale of woe; sure, certain, convinced the fall from grace was my fault.
For another three weeks, further convinced that my undignified entry into the world of sex carried consequences even more diabolical, I wandered in a haze, considering the consequences of a possible pregnancy.
And when the worry of that was relieved, there was the sickening discovery that he had left me with something far worse...
And of that we will not speak, suffice to say that it was gruesome, it was ghastly and far too long before all traces of my vile consignment with Karma were gone.
Gone, but not forgotten..
For surely it's purpose was a lesson learned?
It is what I choose to believe, dear reader, for while being battered and bruised,
I have never been bitter.
I am in one piece. I am bolder and brighter despite it.
Instead, despite my own unpleasant brushes with comeuppance, I still relish the concept of Karma..as well I might, for as poetic justice dictates, I now have my own difficult teenager.
Proud, cocky and arrogant, he drives his mother mad with his incorrigible smart arse, his sharp tongue and his ballsy bravado.
Sadly, I fear his comeuppance is certain, the karmic feast being laid as I write, for I know too that he scoffs at my advice and blows the symbolic raspberry behind my back.
I know of his excess. I know of his brush with the bad stuff. And, following a weekend, his horrible weekend, dear reader, of black eyes, a broken nose and a horribly dented spirit, I catch the whiff of karma in the air.
Sadly, I recognize it far too well, and while I begrudge it's sour taste, I welcome the lessons learned.
For, while I prepare to catch his fall, I believe life is the best teacher.
Indeed I know this well, for I am his mother.
And if Karma dictates that we reap what we sow, it appears we will be harvesting a bumper crop this year...
Ah, The Karmic Feast.
Indeed, it is sweet. Alas, it is sour.
Yet all must eat!
Bon Appetit!
Post Script: I vehemently avoided all contact with my dangerman after our horrific interlude, and eventually lost contact with him entirely.
Indeed, I like to believe in Karma.
There is delicious pleasure in amusing myself with visions of poetic justice and a timely taste of the just desserts; for there is nothing more satisfying than a good comeuppance.
I have always hoped that Karma dealt with him appropriately...
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Reader Comments (36)
I believe in KARMA too. I loved me a walk on the wild side just as much as you did. I was the same exact teenager you described in this beautifully written, gut wrenching post. But that guy was just an ASSHOLE.
Poor poor defiled Minx. I hope you're all better now. Your horrible experience is alas all to common. Thank God he only gave you '......' and not a baby as well. Your teenage terrors must be twisting the knife of the memory of all those adolescent, never to be remembereds
my word!how sad!i do not know what i wud have done.i am so sorry you had to go through that.it brought tears to my eyes reading this.aw...come 'ere...
mz minx :: sinsational story and yet so sad ... and then the karma w/yer own son... i fully have had some karma kick'n me own arse as of late. Best of wishes yer minxiness & yoo still have prevailed and are much stronger. Best of wishes with yer son, too! *and thanx for the most delectable comment on me lil'ol blog
My dearest Minxy:
I had a similar experience in my wayward youth, not quite as viciously planned but still...feeling as if I had no one to tell...and thinking that in some way I had brought it upon myself. No one deserves that, my friend. No one. You couldn't possibly have done anything bad enough to deserve that.
I think the hardest part of being a parent is seeing your kids make choices that you know will lead to their sorrow and being utterly powerless to stop them. I suppose the best we can do is to be there when they fall. I am more than certain you will be.
xoxo
Mistress M
first let me start by saying i'm very proud to be one of your boudoir boys :) we all are overseen by the karma police and shall reap the benefits and pay the price all the same. your story boiled a bit of anger in me, as i have a friend who went through a similar incident. today, she is very strong, smart, and beautiful inside and out. i like to think the same of you, minx.
And I still love me a walk on the wild side, dearest Meleah...I'm just a little more discriminating in my choice of walking partners..
This man was evil.
I do hope he fell foul of the law, Karma style...
He deserved a good bludgeoning at the very least.
xox
Dearest Thinista,
Defiled, deflowered and degraded...
A truly horrible experience and not one talked about much, back in the day...
Alas, it is too common...date rape is a constant worry for young women.
The worst part is feeling that you were responsible in some part for what happened.
I still do, really...
I lament my naivety masquerading as cool coquette...
I am grateful I was soiled but not spoiled.
xox
Thank you darling Maisha,
So glad to see you back!
I honestly don't know how I weathered that particular storm.
While the experience was vile enough, what happened later was disturbing and frightening on a whole new level.
xox
Darling Julian,
Karma loves to kick my arse...
It's kicking it good right now as I confront my horrid teenage self, reincarnated with way too much testosterone and a dangerous penchant for walking on the wild side...
My son is giving me a taste of my own medicine...
It helps me understand him, yet in doing that I see so clearly what he does not. I know what's round the corner, as all parents do...a kick in the arse.
Sometimes life is the best teacher.
xox
Darling Margot,
Indeed. I can't imagine anyone deserving the insufferable vileness I endured at the hands of that man.
I was not Bad. Just Naughty and Naive.
I remain forever grateful that the price I paid for my catastrophic curiosity and flagrant foolishness was no greater.
While it was a horrendous exercise it certainly taught me a lesson...one of many, unfortunately..
I see the same "jumping in at the deep end" behaviour in my son and lament the cruel consequences of his poor choices.
Despite a lifetime of love, security and cautionary tales, he is compelled to act in the most dangerous manner and the powerlessness I feel is tragic.
I lay like a mattress to catch his fall.
xox
Our experiences shape us, don't they Raffi?
Yet we decide what form that will take.
My experience left me battered and bruised but not bitter.
Instead, it pushed me in a direction where I was ready to meet people who became my dearest friends, who reaffirmed my faith in men and allowed me to walk on the wild side in good company.
I'm so glad you're one of my Boudoir Boys!
xox
This story makes me want to believe in Karma, if only to make certain justice was dished out to that disgusting prick. Poor minx. I am so sorry for you and cannot believe you think you may have deserved anything like that. I'm glad you're not scarred.
Your son will be fine. He sounds like a chip off the old block! So I have faith.
Oh Minx how awful!
That's not kharma Claire, that's just an evil lech! No matter what you'd been up to you didn't deserve that. Kharma is metered out in nice even measure, and an atrocity like that on a butterfly such as yourself is not an even measure, no matter how bad you felt you had been.
I'm sure your dangerboy has found his way into prison for some little thing and been nicely pinned himself by now. ;)
Kisses to you and a SMALL fall from grace for your beautiful boy....
All the delicious prose aside, that was a very vunerable and moving tale. It makes me sad and angry, but I thank you for sharing it.
I fully believe in Karma, and that evil deeds will beget evil rewards, I hope his was sooner than later, as I'm sure that wasn't an isolated incident.
My best for your son, may he go easier on his mother than she before him.
SA
Indeed Eddie,
My belief in Karma, just desserts, good old comeuppance, is often motivated by the desire to see some justice done.
While I do think my foolish recklessness was my own undoing, the consequences, vile though they were, taught me much.
Although I am sickened, I am not scarred. I am not bitter. I became a lot more 'careful'.
In many ways I think it made me a better person.
It stopped me in my tracks - the runaway train tracks - before I did myself some serious damage,
and I began to appreciate the gentle advice of my long suffering mother...
In many ways I see this happening with my son.
He is young and beautiful yet blind to his own destructiveness. A few little brushes with the consequences of his actions are opening his eyes..
xox
Oh Michelle,
An evil lech indeed!!
I shudder when I allow myself to think about it now.
I really wish I could have seen it coming.
Ugghhh...
I imagine he has found himself a sticky end, for that seems inevitable.
Hopefully at the end of someone else's cruel lepidoptery, for that seems appropriate...
xox
Dearest SA,
It has taken me such a long, long time to write this story...even then I have left out the vileness, the degrading and disgusting elements of my horror.
Not because I can't deal with it, but simply because it is just too horrible.
While I don't think I deserved "it", I choose to look at it as a valuable and vital part of my growing up. I know it sounds crazy but I am almost grateful for my horrible "lesson on evil". It shook me to my core. And made me appreciate all that was beautiful in my life - and all the beauty that was yet to come...
xox
Should I ever meet this awful bounder, he would soon get what is coming to him! Except I do not call it 'karma'. I call it a swift kick to the balls.
xx
Minx,
Thank you for sharing your story. I had the same thing happen to me only add two more "dangermen". For a very long time I thought that I must have done something to deserve it.....it also took a very long time for me to realize that it was not my fault. But like you, I am also thankful for my horrible "lesson of evil". I have grown into an amazing woman.....never once forgetting that night.....