Special Family Games novel · Chapter 1 of 12
Chapter 1: The Video Call
Ever since I became a simpleton, my stepmother took care of me personally.
She bathed me, combed my hair, fed me with a spoon.
She massaged my legs every morning and took me to exercise in the pool.
She let me rest my head on her lap while we watched cartoons, stroking my hair without a word.
My stepfather, Eladio, was sure I was an idiot.
That's why he never bothered to hide anything from me.
He'd lift his wife's skirt in the living room, right in front of me.
He'd bite her neck while I ate my porridge.
He'd take her to the bedroom mid-afternoon, leaving the door ajar, and I'd stay there listening to what went on like it was just rain falling.
"He doesn't understand anything," he'd say, laughing. "He's a piece of furniture."
But what Eladio didn't know was that I was already back to normal.
I'd been back for six weeks.
One stormy night I woke up in my bed and understood everything at once: who I was, where I was, what day it was, how much time had passed.
I was twenty-three years old.
I'd spent fourteen months half dead.
And by instinct, without knowing why, I said nothing.
I kept drooling.
I kept staring into space.
I kept being my stepfather's piece of furniture.
Until Monday night.
That night I got up at three in the morning and went to the kitchen, without making a sound, to get a glass of water.
And there she was, sitting on the counter, in a silk robe with a nutrition book open.
Rosalía Vargas.
Thirty-nine years old, long brown hair, honey-colored eyes, a mole above her lip.
She looked up.
She saw me standing there, glass in hand, looking straight at her.
With my usual eyes.
With the eyes of someone who thinks.
She froze for a second.
Then, very slowly, she brought a finger to her lips.
"Shh," she said.
I set the glass down.
"Rosalía."
She covered my mouth with her hand before I could say anything else.
Her palms were warm and her pulse was racing.
"How long?" she whispered.
"Six weeks."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I thought I should pretend."
"Why?"
"Because I heard my dad talking to someone. He said that if I stayed like this, he'd be able to 'fix the paperwork.'"
Rosalía closed her eyes.
"I know," she murmured. "I know. I heard it too."
She didn't let go of my face.
Then she looked at me differently, not like a stepson, not like a sick man.
Like a man.
"Keep playing dumb," she said. "Until we find out what he wants."
"Will you help me?"
"I'm going to help you."
"Why?"
"Because your father disgusts me." She smiled, with an old pain at the corner of her mouth. "And because you're not a child anymore."
Three nights later, Wednesday at eleven, Rosalía's phone rang on my stepfather's bed.
A video call.
Eladio was at a hotel in Arequipa, for a construction job.
Rosalía looked at the screen.
Then she looked at me, sitting on the bedroom carpet with my plastic bucket, pretending to play.
"Come here," she said in a low voice.
I got up.
"You won't need this tonight," she added, putting the bucket in my hand. "Tonight he's going to see something else."
"What?"
"Shut up and watch."
She sat on the edge of the bed, fixed her hair, and answered.
Eladio's face filled the phone, propped against the pillow.
Shirt open, glass of pisco in hand, glassy-eyed.
"Hello, my love."
"Hello, darling."
"Is the simpleton asleep?"
"Yes. I put him to bed at nine."
"Good boy. I want to see you."
"You're seeing me."
"Open the robe."
Rosalía opened it.
Underneath she wore a black lace set, and me, standing a meter away, out of frame, felt my throat go dry.
"More."
She slipped it off her shoulders.
It fell onto the bed.
Her breasts, big and heavy, moved inside the bra.
"Take it off."
She did.
Eladio groaned.
"Get the toy."
She opened the nightstand drawer.
She took out a thick pink silicone vibrator and showed it to the camera with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
I watched her.
She watched me.
With her free hand, she made a gesture almost invisible: come.
I moved closer.
I positioned myself behind her, on my knees on the bed, out of the camera's view.
I felt her warm back, the coconut scent of her hair.
She turned on the vibrator and ran it over her nipples.
A real moan escaped her throat.
"That's it, my love," Eladio said. "Lower."
Rosalía lay on her side, knees bent, the phone propped on the pillow at the height of her face, and pulled her thong down to her knees.
I took off my shirt.
I pulled down my pajama pants.
My cock was hard as stone.
She noticed out of the corner of her eye.
She looked at me.
And without her face changing, with her mouth open for the man on the screen, she moved her lips toward me, silently:
"Do it."
I grabbed her hip.
With my right hand I guided myself, slick and hot, open for me.
And I sank into her slowly, all the way to the hilt, while her eyes rolled back and she bit her lip.
"Oh, God," she said.
"What's wrong?" Eladio asked.
"Nothing. I'm just… so hot."
"You like the toy?"
"I love it."
"Tell me how it feels."
"It feels… big. It feels really big."
I almost laughed.
I thrust into her again, slow, feeling her whole body clench.
She moved the vibrator over her clit, her hand trembling, while my pelvis slammed against her ass.
"Harder," she whispered, so low only I could hear.
I gave it to her harder.
Her body shuddered.
"What happened?" Eladio said, laughing. "You moved."
"I… I was just getting comfortable."
"Tell me how close you are."
"A little."
"I want you to come for me."
"Yes, love."
I sped up.
My whole body was pounding.
I grabbed her hips with both hands, sinking into her heat, listening to her breathing quicken, the vibrator buzzing, her voice turning liquid.
"Eladio," she moaned. "Eladio…"
She wasn't saying his name.
She was saying mine.
With her lips, silently, looking at me over her shoulder.
Rodrigo.
Rodrigo.
She came with a stifled cry, arching against me.
The walls of her sex squeezed me so tight I couldn't hold back.
I came inside her with my forehead pressed to her back, biting my lip to keep from growling.
"That's it," my stepfather said, satisfied. "That's it."
Rosalía panted, sweaty, with a shaky smile.
"So good, love."
"I'm going to bed now. I have to get up early tomorrow."
"Rest well."
"Oh, I almost forgot."
"Tell me."
"I'm going back to Lima on Thursday. I'm bringing a doctor to see the simpleton. It's time to sort out the boy's situation."
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