I was 10 or 11 years old. Both of my parents were high-ranking (Olympic caliber) professional athletes, so when the school holidays rolled around and they were in some other city training, they would often have me fly to that city to spend time with them. It was never both of them at the same time, as they were in different sports and were training in different cities-they hardly saw each other.
I think that’s when I first got bitten by a “travel bug”-I absolutely loved flying,airports,hotels,restaurant meals… It was great!
This went on since I was about 7 and continued all through my school years-until I was 17.
Mostly, it was my Dad who traveled extensively (my Mom’s career was over by the time I was 10). I didn’t get to see him much even when I was in the same town with him-after all, he was working.
For him it meant getting up at 5:30am for morning training, then I would join him and his teammates for breakfast at 9am, then he would be away at sea training all day (he was a Chef Coach of Soviet National Team in yachting) until dinner at 6 pm and then he would be in the room watching TV and falling asleep by 8pm-yachting is a very intense sport.
So I learned how to entertain myself since I was very young. I think it really was a good thing, as I’ve learned how to be responsible, how not to get lost and how to look after myself in general.
When I was really young (6-9), Dad would leave some money with a front desk receptionist for my lunch, and later I took care of all that myself.
I very much looked forward to these holidays and saved up my allowance. I was very good at budgeting even then 🙂
In Russia, summer (June-August) is a traditional holiday time. All schools have this time off and a lot of people try to schedule their annual leave for those months as well.
Very popular tourists spot in Russia is Sochi-city by the Black Sea.
A lot of people would flock to Moscow as well,as it was a capital.
During summer months,especially when Mom’s volleyball career was over, we would try to spend a month together as a family somewhere (after my Dad finished his last competition of the season,usually held in Tallin in July).
During one of those holidays we were staying in a hotel in Sochi for the whole month of August.
Normally my parents would get a room with 3 beds and we would be sleeping in the same room.
Hotel rooms during summer months were at a premium and if you didn’t have “connections” you simply could not get one.
As you can imagine, it was very corrupt environment, where hotel and duty managers were taking bribes for reserving and distributing the rooms (everything was owned by the Government, but still managed locally).
Each floor had a receptionist as well. She (always a “she”, was seated right by the elevators and asked to see your room keys when when you attempted to enter the hallway leading to the rooms. Those receptionists had a list with the guest names corresponding to the room numbers. Again-plenty of opportunities for bribery, as you couldn’t, technically bring someone in who wasn’t a registered guest in that particular room.
My Dad knew a lot of hotel managers and those receptionists, as he traveled all over with the Soviet National Team. Those women loved him: he brought them presents from overseas AND he was a very good-looking men and slept with fair share of them as well.
One night, during our stay, receptionist told my Dad that one of the rooms on our floor will be unoccupied overnight and he can have it, if he wanted to have some “private time” with my Mom (obviously,otherwise impossible with all 3 of us sleeping in the same room).
So off I went to sleep in that other room, while my parents, presumably, engaged in hot love-making.
As I’ve mentioned before, I was very self-sufficient and welcomed the opportunity to just lay in bed and watch whatever TV channel I wanted.
I will never know exactly how it happened, but I woke up in the middle of the night and there was a man standing by my bed. I didn’t know who he was (or,at least, I don’t think I did)
He was saying “Shhhhh, your parents sent me over. They wanted me to make sure you’re OK”. Although the whole scenario was a bit strange, I was not alarmed at first. I was also a bit disoriented in the dark,having been asleep just a second ago.
The man sat down on the edge of the bed and started stroking me. Very gently at first and just my arm and back. Very soon, though, he was moving his hand between my legs. I froze. He was an adult and he said he was in my room at my parent’s request. I was brought up to obey adults. He kept saying “Just be quiet”.
I was scared now, but didn’t want to scream and bring any kind of attention to myself, as I felt it would be interpreted as my fault, somehow. So I just lay there.
In the meantime, the man unbuttoned his pants and took his penis out. He was now stroking himself at the same time as he had his hand between my legs, molesting my vagina.
He was clearly getting excited. Before I knew it, his finger was inside of me, but he was quite careful with it, not being rough, probably because he was afraid that I will scream if he hurt me.
That went on for a few moments and then he maneuvered himself so he was rubbing his penis on the side of my leg,still having his finger inside of me.
Then I heard him groan and I felt something warm on the side of my leg. Next thing I knew-he was gone.
I never saw his face, because he never turned the light on.
I was laying in bed,scared and shaking. I knew I could never tell my parents about this,as I really thought that my Mom, especially, will somehow make it all my fault and I will be severely punished,as I instinctively knew that what had happened was a really bad thing,indeed.
I went to the bathroom and washed myself carefully. There was a bit of blood between my legs and I was a little sore, but not too much-bastard made sure that he wasn’t roughing me up, so I won’t scream.
I will never know how exactly he got in the room and who he was. I do suspect it was someone who knew my Dad and my family (there were few of his teammates staying in the same hotel)-that’s how he knew I would be in the room alone that night. I don’t know how he got the key, but back then hotels used old-fashioned keys and a lot of those fit different locks.
It could have been that the floor receptionist wanted to make some money “on the side” and set the whole thing up in order to “sell” me to some pedophile she knew…
I blocked the whole thing from my memory for a long time.
It did come back to me when I was 15.
I’ve decided that it was the day I will allow my boyfriend to have sex with me “all the way” (before then he never penetrated me, just rubbed himself on my vagina lips).
Well, we did it. When he finished and a few moments later realised that there was no blood, he didn’t say anything, just got up and got dressed.
The atmosphere was tense and awkward and I was trying to make a small talk, but he was responding with “yes” and “no” only and clearly couldn’t wait to get out of my house.
We’ve never talked about it again, but I knew he thought that I’ve slept with some other guy ( we were dating for 2 years). “Code of honour” was a pretty serious thing in my hometown back then. No one just “slept with somebody”. Having sex (especially at the age of 15) was a very serious decision, often leading to an engagement and marriage.
I also knew that no matter what I said, he would never believe me and it would just make me look guilty. So I said nothing. Our relationship didn’t last much longer after that.
I haven’t had sex again until I was 17.