Ashamed tears of forgiven nudity

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June 12th 2014  |  0  |  Category: Bedtime , Drama , Fiction , Moral , Satire  |  Author:  |  2417 views

Dedicated to womanhood…
Entrance made to the sin city with game planned motives to squeeze out the maximum information from the needy girls and women within the caged den of prostitution was eventually an easy task in the impoverished land of Philippines initially. Being a reporter from the Western world TV channel, my priorities were to highlight the lifestyle of womanhood under the grave identity crisis there. Mingled among the shameless striptease artists, my prime goal never diverted the mind with secrecies maintained within them and me beyond the nightclub razzmatazz ofAngeles City. At someplace of the subconscious mind, it repeatedly appealed me from avoiding the Filipino charisma of nudity. However, melting into the mindsets of those performers grew tougher, whenever I tried to develop closeness to collect personal information of the lifestyle they spent on the backdrop of nightlife. Starting off with a playboy attitude to explore the cross-cultural studies was shaping up to be an uphill task, till the final discovery of a face mould with touch of innocence was made.
Subdued about the fact-finding points to provide evidential reports to my organisation would have not come with ease, if I had not met Arianne with the guidance of a professional pimp that required hefty money to be spent out of my pocket then. The memories are still clear when I required to pay two-thousand peso bill into his pocket prior to entering the private chamber of hers every night after 11 PM. And the payments did not end there as I always had to add another two-hundred peso bill before leaving the private chamber of Arianne in the morning, to win over the confidential secrecies that we shared between each other for a precise period of one month. However, at certain point of instances during the developing phases of our relationship, refrained her from accepting that additional money; because somewhere her inner voice found a purity of humane love grooming between us rather than lustful lovemaking.
Our rendezvous though began with a masked mindset of mine being disguised as a foreign tourist from America inside the dim and stuffy cabinet, where she was prepared to allure me by removing her strappy T-shirt instantly after welcoming me to get seated beside her on the spongy mattress laid over her bed. Usually, she does not expect a customer to stay beyond an hour to fulfil the quench of lust they borne in; but I appeared as an exceptional case before her who barred her from removing the clothes that she wanted to do in haste. ‘What’s your name?’ I asked her with surfacing doubts in my mind by keenly observing that she rolled down her T-shirt, though her cleavage was prominent before my sight. ‘Arianne Dialino,’ she replied in a mild note and shot back an immediate question on me, ‘What’s your name baby?’ I was initially unprepared to reveal the truth, but certain living impulse allowed me to answer back the real name of mine, ‘I am Prince Jenkins’.
Without certainties of knowing the probable routine life she experienced amid the red light zone of Philippines, the next tendency vibrated the vocal cords of mine to ask her, ‘Can we be friends Arianne?’ with lurking doubts surfacing on my mind. For a while the words made her mum as I noticed her face turned pink with short reply in shivery tone, ‘Yes, but how?’ Altogether, the interactions between us began with emotional talks discussed between us with my disguised motives to hunt for excavating into the entirety of her life among livelihoods. Dressed in a yellow coloured strappy T-shirt and bluish shorts she sat beside me with her left limb crossed over the right one. Somewhere I observed her waxed skin being sweating due to the sultriness of the climate in that country on the month of April, that displayed a glazed look of hers under the dimness of light inside the closed door chamber.
Fondness grew between us with friendly titbits been shared with covered up lies from my side, as I had to maintain the professionalism underneath whatever dramatic sentimental acts blew out of my mouth to eventually sway her into a world of optimism gradually. The first night spent in the ambience of a twenty-year old girl did provide the first appearance of hope to extract needful meanings of communication with certainty of substantial report coverage in near future. Nights rolled by beside her presence, with the bond of friendliness shaping deeper with conviction of heartfelt affections from both angles. Arianne never tried to allure me with her sexual prowess anymore, rather welcomed me with a cheesy grin into her cabinet every night. She also maintained secrecies of the developing relationship as I had to switch-on my digital camera to get the evidential prove of the discussions being held between us.
Belonging to the family of seven sisters where a father earns a paltry wage of around five-hundred peso every month for livelihood has had gradually pushed her to accept the profession of prostitution despite understanding the moral compass of life. ‘You know Prince… my sisters do not know how I earn money for them, but they are happy till I manage to contribute a fruitful amount at the end of the month,’ said the weeping face of hers with moving lips that was getting recorded on my video camera. Economic hurdles are the major drawbacks in this island nation, where girls accept the deceptive nightlife glitz with the known facts of losing morality in the society, and Arianne was not an exception from them either. Unable to continue with good education, she left her home a year back to accept this profession; where she finally opted to give in her morality and expose the fleshy beauty of hers being tasted by several sugar daddies in the society within that yearlong time space.

We never slept together inside the closed chamber of hers, as she chose the floor as her bed and left the bed for me to take the late night nap after holding several talks; because those were necessary for me and growingly attentive for hers. And on the break of dawn she used to wake me up, as time maintenance inside those prostitution hubs was severely monitored by its pimps there. Nobody in the outer space knew the information I had collected from her till then, and on a fine night she told me in a mild note, ‘Mahal kita Prince’ in Tagalog. Unable to catch her language I asked her to translate it in English, and then she said after a sigh of pause, ‘I love you Prince’. For a while my inner voice wanted to oppose her emotional call, but then certain impulse dragged me towards a spontaneous reply, ‘I love you too’.
Inside the glamorous caves of sin city where lives wake up to the roars of nightlife charisma, Arianne and I still maintained a bond where the skyline grew with shaping up of new horizons alike a diamond ring molten in the fate of developing goodness in relationships between each other. From someplace of my heart, I could listen to the heartfelt voices of hers, even when we used to be out of sight; but then the question of committing myself to her, kept me in pondering labs of cultural acceptance in future. Moreover, the appointed project was on verge of completion and I needed to bid her goodbye. ‘But, how shall I utter those final words to her?’ was the question that repeatedly placed me in awry situation.
Quite noticeably she welcomed me on that final night that coincidentally appeared to be her birthday. Yes, she was a Taurean woman by zodiac sign born on the fifth day of May and had turn 21 on that specific date. I discovered the glamour heat oozing out of the entirety of hers in differently dressed beauty to draw certainties of sex appeal at the centre-stage of my presence. With feet covered with a pair of pink coloured high-heel shoes, the ankles were cross postured as my eyes browsed from the bottom towards the top to notice herself being wrapped in a pink smudged kimono with robe loosely fastened at the waistline of hers. ‘How do I look today?’, she asked me in ecstasy and I replied in mild tone, ‘Absolutely gorgeous’ with vibes of dual characters surfacing on my mind.
She moved sidewise from where I observed a small cake with a lighted candle over it being kept over the bed where we used to sit during our long chat sessions in the pasts of past. ‘Prince today is my birthday. So, I wanted to make it a special night for us’. But then, I replied by being baffled with the situation, ‘You should have told me earlier about it’. ‘Surprise… Haa… Haa…’ was laughter of hers that filled the dim chamber of Arianne. She blew off the candle and pieced the cake with a knife to offer me with its taste. Eating the creamy cake, I noticed her sit closely beside me by placing her arm on my shoulder. Probably she sought certain closeness to shape up in a different mood of rejoicing on the day.
However, my pre-planned motives did not move me from the presence of her speciality on that specific day, because the flight ticket was already booked to fly back to my homeland the next evening. ‘Prince I do not need a gift, but would like you to fulfil any desire you opt today,’ mentioned the enthusiastic voice of hers. With dual nature that remained submissive in mind of certain men, I could not resist myself from exploiting the situation in both ways. ‘Arianne, I wish to see you naked. But I promise that I shall not touch your body,’ was my reply in a firm voice then. Such an answer had taken her aback for an instance, as she probably did not expect such humiliating desire from me. But it did not stop me and I rather insisted her by adding, ‘I’m your customer, so you’re bound to do as I wish’.
Gradually I noticed her unfastening the robes of the kimono and slowly removing the loose garment to bare the body covered with inners. She paused as I adored her skin under the dimness of my naked eyes. ‘Why did you stop there?’ was a further insistence in my voice. And then I observed closely as she unstrapped her bra and pulled down the panties, but sat quietly with tears rolling down her eyes with limbs and arms critically articulated to cover her beauty of breasts and pubic area. I turned back with feeling of regretting to mention the last words, ‘Goodbye Arianne’.
Those are the tears of hers that still reveals several unspoken words of love amid existence of sin city life that hundreds of Arianne must have experienced with silent pains that grow deeper and deeper to become accustomed in the satanic den of lovemaking. But back at home, the shadowy image of her signifies ~ Ashamed tears of forgiven nudity.


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