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When the pain relief kicked in, everything and everyone dwindled away until I felt like Alice in Wonderland who just swallowed the shrinking tablet and everyone standing around me seemed to move so quick, speak so loud and hover above me. When I awoke from my induced state, I was alone in a different room. Not knowing at all what went on but feeling a little better, I called in the nurse who looked through my charts and checked my vital signs. Then told me the doctor would be in shortly to inform me of the conclusion to my illness.

He was a tall man with dark hair, and a hardened look about him obviously from his job and constantly seeing the worst horror stories man could think of, he just bluntly told me I had miscarried in early stages of pregnancy. I should be fine to go home as soon as my course of intravenous antibiotics was complete. The news sunk in fast and hit a deep nerve. I waited for the doctor to close the curtain before I let out any emotion and cried for my disastrous lifestyle that was dragging me into a world that I wanted to break out of. This reoccurring cycle of believing I needed men like Jeffrey to succeed in my life was draining the last bits of sensitivity left in my heart. I was picked up by Jeffrey himself who took the doctor alone to the side of the busy hallway to have a private conversation about something. Jeffrey wasn’t comforting at all, instead he sent me back home to rest for a couple weeks, and I only fell deeper into a depression, using all forms of self-medication to treat my sorrows.

Two weeks later, as if Jeffrey was trying to lighten my spirits, he told me I would be going to his island to meet a new client. He is a Harvard Professor, named Stephen Kosslyn. I would be spending two days with him showing him around the island, dining with him, and treating him to a massage whenever he wanted. Without Jeffrey even verbalizing the need to have sex with him, he told me to keep him happy like I had my first client. I packed my suitcase with island apparel, and kissed T.J good-bye, who had at least offered me a warm embrace upon the news of my miscarriage but none other than that knowing it wasn’t his.

Stephen was a quirky little man with white hair and a mad scientist look about him. We arrived separately and I greeted him when one of the housekeepers picked him up from the airport and arrived by boat, instead of helicopter as Jeffrey and Ghislane often arrive on. We made our acquaintances and he looked as if he was tripping over himself with words, obviously delighted with his company and location for the weekend. I showed him around as Jeffrey had asked and took him on an adventurous quad bike ride around the small curvy paths, leading the way and letting loose my hair, doing something that gave me a natural high instead of the prescription one. The sights alone were breathtaking from the mountainous peaks of the untouched parts of the island, we sat at a cliff and just sat there, not saying a word to each other besides to compliment the sights mother nature that appealed to us. I didn’t feel as if I owed this stranger anything but what was expected of me by Jeffrey and I could be polite, I just couldn’t be myself.

We got back to the main villa to see what time dinner would be served so we could have time to unpack and clean up beforehand. We both met at six pm for dinner on the outside veranda. He sat at the head of the table and I sat next to him, politely folding my napkin to put in my lap. The first time Jeffrey and Ghislane had seen me cut meat and eat with a fork and knife they were so appalled, making fun of my unsophisticated habits. Ghislane took the fork and knife in her hands and proceeded to show me how to politely cut my food and eat. Now that my mannerisms had improved they wouldn’t have to be worried about my etiquette when someone important was around anyone. We both drank the red wine supplied on the table and it seemed to warm me up on the breezy night. By the time dinner was served and another red wine bottle later, he seemed to get funnier. I made fun of his tousled hair and he poked at me for my skinny legs, calling me a wanna-be- anorexic. When dessert was brought out, he asked if he could receive one of the delightful massages he has been hearing about from Jeffrey. I gulped more red wine down and sweetly complied with his offer, dreading the moment I’d have to see his naked body, let alone touch it. I asked the housekeeper Kathy that had been serving us that night to please have someone set up a massage bed in one of the cabana’s. I went to my room to down a few Xanax, telling him I wanted to freshen up after dinner but to meet me in his cabana in twenty minutes or so. I was ready to go as I had said, twenty minutes later, with the effects of the tablets mixed with the red wine, and I would be free not to feel anything. He was still dressed when I got in the cabana, obviously not accustomed to this and a lot shyer than what I had been used to, I told him he’d need to undress and lie face down on the table, putting a towel to cover his bare bottom to prevent him feeling embarrassed during the massage. I gave the massage my earnest as I always had, and quickly got through having intercourse with him. Not wanting to make any foreplay or anything extravagant out of it, I let him think that’s as good as it got, and by the smile on his face, I thought I had done enough.

The next day I took him down to the beach for a real massage under a tiki-hut on the waters edge. It was one of Jeffrey’s favorite places to have a massage, as he droned out to the sound of the waves and my gentle therapeutic strokes. Afterwards we had lunch back at the main villa and went back down to the beach to swim out to the water trampoline about one hundred meters off the dock. He didn’t do any bouncing around or anything like that. It was just a good base point for a rest spot after a long

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