Mabel Shot Part 2

"I don’t understand... How can this work?" I feel lost, unable to comprehend if such a relationship is possible in everyday life. "I thought it was something just for the moment…"
"Of course it is, many couples appreciate BDSM," Yelena speaks, smiling as she refills her drink and mine. "It’s a normal relationship in their world, not like conventional couples, but still a relationship."
"Like the one he had with Valéria, his first wife?" I ask quietly, looking at my glass.
"In this world, there’s loyalty and fidelity. The open relationship he had with Valéria came from the loyalty they had to each other within the open relationship they built." Yelena puts the bottle down and grabs my glass, stretching it out to me. "Come on, don’t leave me drinking alone." I hold the glass and look at her, bringing it to my lips. "Valéria understood that she couldn’t fulfill all of Huslan’s needs, so she accepted other women sharing that role with her, even knowing the risks. And the truth is, she enjoyed sleeping with other women too."
"She just didn’t expect Aunt Melissa to come along one day and bring down that two-meter bear with just a look," Sieta says mockingly, letting out a low sigh. "Fulfilling everything Valéria couldn’t give Uncle Huslan."
"What do you mean…?"
"Melissa and I had a stricter upbringing, my little child," Yelena says sadly, as if remembering something painful. "Our parents were poor, and they believed a good marriage could save us from misery. They practically handed us over like pigs to the first buyer who offered good money."
"Sorry, but I don’t think I understand." I bite my lip, narrowing my eyes and shaking my head.
"Melissa and I were raised from childhood to be good wives, obedient, quiet, and flexible." Yelena closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Melissa looked like a frightened rabbit whenever someone got close to her, from all the beatings my mother gave us. She was working near our house, at a snack bar owned by the man our parents arranged for her to marry. They wanted her to get used to being near him."
"And then the big bear appeared!" Sieta exclaims, excited, looking at me and laughing.
"Yes. By an unfortunate coincidence of fate and a flat tire, Huslan showed up at that snack bar. Melissa told me she felt like he took all the air from her lungs with just one look from his brown eyes when he stared at her." Yelena opens her eyes, softening them, and I feel a sense of kinship with what Melissa must have felt. "The next day, Huslan Gregovivk showed up at our house to get Melissa, and she went. My sister didn’t think twice and didn’t look back when he extended his hand to her."
"Weeks later, Mom ran away from home to avoid marrying her suitor." Sieta laughs louder, her cheeks reddening.
"Thank God!" Yelena bursts into laughter, nodding her head. "I met my Yure on the roads of life, and I married the man I chose for myself and loved. If I hadn’t done that, Sie would be the daughter of a milkman, and I’d be a woman without a profession."
"I hear an amen!" Sieta fills her glass and mine, speaking and laughing.
"Amen!" I laugh with the two of them, and we drink together.
"I’ll get another bottle; this one’s done!" Yelena says, laughing, and gets up, heading out of the room.
"What happened to her?" I ask Sieta, turning my face, hugging my body, and leaning back on the sofa.
"Marijuana, cocaine, I think she also ate mushrooms with my dad when he was alive..." I start laughing, feeling the intoxication taking over me more and more as I hear Sieta’s giggly voice. "I never understood my mom’s eccentricities."
"No, I don’t mean your mother." I lower my face, trying to stop laughing, sighing slowly. "I mean Melissa, what happened to Mr. Gregovivk’s mother?"
Sieta takes a deep breath, opening and closing her mouth as she stretches her legs on the sofa.
"Aunt Melissa died when Greg was still a teenager," Sieta responds, her words no longer filled with laughter or sarcasm. "There was a fire in the boathouse on her property. She inhaled too much smoke, and her lungs were severely damaged; she didn’t make it. Greg was inside the boathouse, and my aunt went in to save him…"
The large red scar on the lower part of his back makes my heart clench as I imagine the pain the burn must have caused him.
"Everyone carries scars, little bird," he says softly, without looking at me, as if he knows where I’m looking.
I feel my heart tighten, and my eyes water as I recall his words and the large burn mark on his back. He wasn’t referring to the scar on his skin but the loss of his mother.
"Let’s play!" I jump, turning my head immediately to Yelena, who enters cheerfully, holding two bottles of vodka, one in each hand. "And drink!"
"Oh, actually, I think it’s already late..." My voice is slow, and I blink a few times, trying to keep from feeling too drunk, as if that would really help. "It’s already getting dark."
"Of course not, no time of day is too late for vodka in Russia, Mabel!" Sieta laughs, standing up and taking the vodka from her mother’s hand.
"Come on, it’ll be fun! I used to play this with Melissa. Talking about the old days made me nostalgic!" Yelena approaches me and strokes my face. "Give this old lady a little pleasure, abandoned and lonely, forsaken by her ungrateful daughter!"
"Oh, here she goes with her huge neediness!" Sieta opens the bottle and laughs at me. "Trust me, Mabel, if you don’t play with her, she won’t let us leave this house."
"Alright, what do you like to play: cards, chess?" I look at Yelena, smiling.
"No, it wasn’t that kind of game Melissa and I used to play; it was something a bit different…"
"Oh my god!" I close my eyes, curling up on the couch. "I’m still trying to understand the last 'different' game I agreed to play." I open my eyes and meet the gaze of the strange woman I’ve come to like, after the shock of our first encounter. "Okay, one round won’t be bad."
"Come on, Sieta, help me with this coffee table!" Yelena says, laughing.
I get up and clear the empty bottles off the floor so they can push the coffee table to the side.
"It’s better like this for playing, facing each other." The woman sits naturally, looking at me eagerly.
After letting her inspect my vagina from top to bottom, what would be so bad about playing with her? I hand the empty bottles to Sieta and bend my legs forward, pressing my knees together. I sit crouched, with my calves spread to the sides, my hands resting on my thighs, and my back straight. I smile at Yelena, who’s watching me curiously. She glances quickly at Sieta, and I do the same, meeting the gaze of the short-haired woman, whose eyes are locked on me.
"So, what’s the game?" I ask, laughing, watching her sit down slowly, still observing me.
"Mom, show her," Sieta murmurs, lifting the neck of the bottle she opened to her mouth and taking a large gulp.
"Look at me, Bel," Yelena speaks affectionately, making me look at her. "I can call you that, right?"
"Woman, you can call me whatever you want after seeing my vagina inside and out." I laugh, nodding.
"Great, call me Lena. No need for formalities between us, Bel." She holds my hands and lifts them slowly. "Keep your hands flat, with your fingers tight together."
I do as she says, feeling her hand adjust my forearms, positioning them flush against the sides of my body, with my palms facing forward toward her. Yelena does the same, mirroring me, her flat hands below mine.
"It’s like truth or lie, but the difference is that one of us will tell the truth about the other. If I’m wrong, you slap my hand; if I’m right, you take a drink and I’ll slap you, and I’ll ask another question until I’m wrong. Then, it’s your turn."
"I’m not sure I want to play a game where I have to slap you." I tilt my head, feeling dizzy from the amount of vodka.
"Mom never loses," Sieta says, smiling, placing a full bottle of vodka next to us.
"There’s a good chance she’ll lose if she doesn’t know anything about the other person." I laugh, looking at Yelena, who’s smiling sweetly at me. "I don’t know what to say about you, Lena."