Caving In

Copyright © 2017 Tilly Snow

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidence.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this work may be used, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission. 

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"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns."

—Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

~ Prelude - Sex Education ~

Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita provided my sex education when at the tender age of twelve the man of my heart, international singer Nick Caviar let slip that Lolita was his favorite book. I loved books so I immediately procured a copy and commenced reading, my twelve year old eyes growing wider with every page. For those of you who have not read it, here is the most shocking passage in the center of the book.

"... Roman law, according to which a girl may marry at twelve, was adopted by the Church, and is still preserved, rather tacitly, in some of the United States. And fifteen is lawful everywhere. There is nothing wrong, say both hemispheres, when a brute of forty, blessed by the local priest and bloated with drink, sheds his sweat-drenched finery and thrusts himself up to the hilt into his youthful bride."

One can't fully comprehend what this does to a girl of said age, just reading it or otherwise. I read Lolita when I was twelve and in the character Lo, I saw bits of myself.

Soon after the reading, my sex education was supplemented by sneaking into my mother's closet to watch her entertain her benefactor. I saw the crudest angle possible what it means for a man to "thrust himself up into the hilt" into ...well, in this case, a woman in her late thirties and a retired prima ballerina.

Soon after witnessing this, I pledged my virginity and everything attached to it to my darkly beautiful rock god, Nick Caviar. But I'm getting ahead of myself. First I have to talk about the bedtime ritual ... for that is when our romance truly started, in the springtime of my innocence.

~ 1. Perfect Innocence ~

"Momma never lets me stay up for her parties," I said. I remember stamping my foot, trying to look as serious as I could in my frilly pink nightgown, my long hair spilling down my back.

Nick sat near my bed, his tailored suit in sharp contrast to my girlie pink bedroom. He ran a hand through his glossy black hair. "I like to get away from parties," he said in his characteristic moan of a voice.

I remember well, Nick Caviar had left the party in our swanky Manhattan apartment, agreeing to come into my room, the hostess' child, so we could do our ritual called 'tucking Lola into bed.'

My lower lip thrust out in defiance.

"Parties are not for eight year olds, kitten," Nick said, taking me by the hand and leading me to bed. "Come be a good girl and hop in." The music from the party faintly reached us from behind the closed door.

"It's not fair!" I said.

"I know. Come on, sweetheart," Nick said softly, drawing my attention back again. With a sigh, I skulked across the carpet, climbed up over the soft mound of blankets and sank deep into the cavern Nick had made for me.