Mark April 15, 2013

I had a horrible dream today. I can’t quite remember what it was anymore, but I know for sure it’s about Sir Mark, and I knew how much I hated it and how much I felt disgusted when I opened my eyes. God knows how relieved I feel when I see that it is all naught but a dream and that I’m finally gazing at reality. I don’t even know what the dream is all about, but I am relatively sure that a massive chunk of it involves Sir Mark being naked and how powerless I was in his mercy. I remembered how sexual the dream was, but I can’t describe what made that dream carnal in any sense of the way. All I know for sure is that I was naked throughout the whole damn thing, and I’m feeling hands groping my body, and something was grazing my insides, and I’m looking up at the gigantic figure of Sir Mark before me as I notice my mouth forcefully opening so I could take his massive member. I could vaguely remember that the song Strangelove by Depeche Mode is playing throughout the entire dream. It was disgusting, and I felt like I had lived a thousand years of sexual assault before I opened my eyes after hearing the loud beeping of my phone’s alarm clock.

Instantly, when I woke up, I saw Ivan inside my room. He’s sitting on my wooden chair in the middle of the room. He’s just looking at me with tired eyes. The black rings all around his eyes made me instinctively flinch as I wrapped my body underneath my blanket. When Ivan saw that I am now awake, he shot down on his knees and kowtowed before me the same way he did in that dreaded room, but this time, I am the subject of his worship. I started hearing him sob as he buried his forehead on my carpet. His tears wet my carpet as he uttered a few words at me with a sharp and hoarse voice. I got off my bed right away when I saw him looking like that.

I raised him from the floor, and we both sat at the edge of the bed. I’m still very much dizzy and half-asleep, but his agony-filled expression instantly awakens my senses. Spit covered most of his face, and it doesn’t seem like his tears would subside anytime soon. I wiped his face with the sleeve of my long-sleeve shirt, and I gently grabbed his shoulders to ask him what’s going on and that he could tell me anything that's ailing him. At this point, I thought maybe Janine is at fault again and that Ivan is finally fed up with his mother’s bullshit.

But as it turns out, that’s not the case at all. Ivan told me about how his father forbade him to go to that sick orgy room and that it started fucking up his head. Ivan said that that place is his only solace in this world full of hurt and that not being a part of the depraved activities in Room 5010 anymore brings him so much pain and agony that he couldn’t even find the right headspace to be in peace anymore. My older cousin said that he finds his true self there. The truest colors of his life unravel within him when Ivan attends the debauchery inside of Room 5010. Ivan furthered this by saying that he only truly finds goodness in this world whenever his naked body touches the ground of that room or touches the skin of the other members of his group. Ivan told me he knew that he’s doing something awful in there, but it’s also the only place in the world where he could genuinely feel happiness. Room 5010 makes him happy, according to Ivan. Not just fake smiles and half-assed chuckles. Really happy.

I asked him what he wants me to do. Ivan said that if I could talk to his father and approve of him returning to Room 5010, he said that it would mean the world to him. Ivan said that his father, my uncle, really trusts and adores me better than any of his children, so he’s sure that my uncle would listen to me. He then kept repeating over and over again that it would mean the world to him if I give him his happiness back to him. Ivan begged me hard. He really wanted this.

I hugged him and told him I would talk to my uncle about this and reassured him it would all be better. Ivan then gave out a dazzling innocent smile. It was the most beautiful smile I have ever seen, the most genuine of them all. It was filled with glee and hope. He then left my room with a radiating glow of happiness spewing out of his weakening body as he returned to his room. I promised him I will talk to my uncle and said that we should permit Ivan to return to that place.

Or at least, that’s what I told Ivan.

I know what’s best for him. And I know that that place is poison for his head. Nothing good will ever happen to him if I allowed him to stay there. This is better. What’s happening to Ivan now is just momentary sadness. Soon, he would realize how fucked up that place was and remember these days as him being a victim of abuse. I will protect him from those awful people who dare to use him in such a sexually depraved manner. I never told my uncle about this issue today. I also never asked my uncle to allow Ivan to return to Room 5010. I’m not even sure if I could ever bring that place up in a positive light.

I just ate lunch, showered, and went to my job without talking to anybody. This is right. I’m doing the right thing. This is best for Ivan. This is how much I love him.

The hardest part comes later that day on my job. I don’t know yet if Sir Mark would be present at the shop, but I’m already feeling scared and nauseated just by thinking of meeting him.

Sure enough, I saw him. And that was when I realized that the universe had turned its back against me.

Right away, I saw Sir Mark standing in the middle of the shop with his hands on his waist while donning a silly and businessman-like grin. One that is full of fake enthusiasm and spewing a sort of mockingly dumb radiance. I think it’s because his teeth are so white that I could almost see it shining under the pale light.

I then saw an image in my head. It was that of Sir Mark’s towering naked figure before me, spreading his hairy legs wide. I shook my head as I looked at my boss approaching me. Sir Mark instantly wrapped his arms around my shoulders and swiftly led me to the backroom, to his office. He immediately made me sit on his office chair while he laid his ass on the table in front of me. Sir Mark placed his hand on my shoulder with the same distorted smile that he’s showcasing when I first saw him. I wondered if his cheeks had started hurting at that point since he was donning that broad smile for what seemed like an eternity by then.

Sir Mark then tells me that I must have been so confused and that I must have a lot of questions for him after what I had seen yesterday. He told me he would be more than willing to answer any inquiries and confusion I may have regarding my trial stay in his sex suite. At that point, I have so many things I wanted to ask that I’m sure this entire meeting would take forever to finish if I ask all of them. Thus, I just hamfisted all of my worries in a straightforward question.

“Why are you doing this?”

I remembered that Sir Mark looked like he was deeply thinking about the right answer to this question. However, it’s also vivid in my brain how he suddenly chuckled when he finally had that eureka moment, when he finally found the right answer. He then hesitantly explained, unsure if he was uttering the right answer. He said some shit like, “Uhmm... I dunno...” but then proceeded to look at me with bloodshot eyes and a voice filled with confidence as he told me the one real answer to my burning question.

“It’s more of a power thing.”

Sir Mark said that he would often ask his members to offer some donations to pay for the suite. However, he added with a chuckle that the monetary contributions his members give would usually be more than what they need, so he would announce to everyone that he would take it as his money. Not theirs anymore. His. Sir Mark laughed when he explains that his members would rejoice and feel so much hornier when they knew that their money is being taken away from them and that they would pay a bigger bill from that point on when they saw Sir Mark taking the excess. He said that my cousin is his most generous contributor. He expresses how upset and frustrated he was that I took my cousin away from him.

Sir Mark said that taking what’s theirs makes him feel powerful. That’s just what they do in his group. My boss further noted that not all the other small groups like his have the same initiative and the same goals, but he’s proud to say that his group is the only one that has helped everyone become better people once they became a member. He said that they are working under a bigger and much prominent organization that helps people. However, Sir Mark is very adamant in saying that his “sex therapy” is the only method that truly and genuinely works. Most of the small groups under this said organization he’s working for have a lot of unorthodox methods that never work. Sir Mark expresses that his group’s approach is the only real cure for the sickness of the mind. Sex is the only way to cure the soul. Servitude brings true happiness to the mind. Nothing else could compare to his method, he says.

That was then when he said the name of his group.

Heal; Soul.