Dangerous (8 page)

“You’ll learn to accept my gifts with the proper gratitude. Count, and thank me."

“Yes, Ma—”
Smack.
I jerked at the sudden stinging pain, and gasped. “…One, Ma’am. Thank you.”

Smack. A little harder. “Two, Ma’am! Thank you."

Three
and
four
weren’t quite as bad, but number five was much harder, hard enough to make me cry out against my will. That’s when I really did start to struggle.

“Five! Ma’am. Thank you!” Goddamn, this sucked. She had a way of pulling her hand away just as it hit that made her fingertips sting like whips. I think the leather glove made it hurt worse, too.

By the time she got to
twenty
I was crying, writhing in her arm-hold, begging her to stop.

At
twenty-two
I twisted so hard I slipped off her legs and caught myself with my free hand. She still held my other wrist in a tight grip, bent back now at an angle, forcing my head down.

“The doll will take her place again, or leave,” Val warned icily.

Frogspawn
, I thought.
Say it.
But the word would not come.

I considered leaving then, truly. I imagined standing, pulling up my pants and storming out, away from this madness. But in that direction was nothing but a cold, lonely void.

My ass burned. I gasped like a fish, my heart hammering in my chest. The rug felt scratchy against my cheek.

And as I took the measure of these sensations, something like liquid sunlight flowed through my body, starting between my legs and spreading outward. I should have been angry, or frightened, but what I really felt was
alive
, truly alive as I hadn’t in years. And that feeling became a warm surrender, a hungry gravity bending me toward this fierce, crazy woman.

I tried to rise, and she relaxed her lock on my arm enough to permit it. Gently I lay my torso across her legs and closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I said in a small voice.

She stopped at twenty-five. The last three blows were especially hard, but the cries they tore from me were more release than outrage. Then Val’s gloved hand stroked gently where I burned, and I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. She did this for a minute as my breathing slowed and my sight cleared. The fear which had gripped my heart now flipped inside out, to become pride at having survived. And with it came a deep yearning.

“Has the doll learned to accept my gifts without complaint?” She prompted.

“Yes, Ma’am. I have,” I assured her.

“Then it is time for doll’s reward. I expect her to show the proper gratitude."

She unhesitatingly thrust her hand between my legs, and began to touch me there. The textured leather of her glove felt alien against such tender flesh. This wasn’t at all how I’d imagined our first truly intimate contact: thrown head down over her legs, my arm wrenched behind my back. It was clinical, and humiliating, and utterly insane, and, and, and…and I thanked her again and again, and cried anew as she woke golden sunlight in my belly.

§

When at last she grew bored with that game, Val released my arm and commanded me to dress. I wiped my eyes and wondered how awful I must look. Now that I could see her face, her expression was calm, a bit amused. Tender, even.

“Doll has learned something about gifts, I trust?”

I nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” I whispered meekly.

She motioned me to a spot beside her legs, and pulled my head to her lap, where she stroked my hair. A storm of emotions whirled within me.

And then Val said, “Are you free on Saturday? I’ve arranged for a photographer friend of mine to take pictures of you.”

§

I spent the next few days anxiously tracking the progress of the bruises on my ass, praying they’d fade before Saturday. I had no idea what Val planned for the photo shoot; she wouldn’t tell me. But knowing her, the bruises might very well prove an issue.

As it was, they didn’t completely fade in time.

6     
elements

IT WAS BREEZY that Saturday morning—Groundhog Day, actually—but not so hot as the last few days had been. The trees in Val’s front yard rustled and swayed as I parked and rang the doorbell. As usual, the maid did not speak, but only motioned me to follow. She’d spoken fewer than a dozen words to me in all the time I’d known her.

The entire morning I’d fretted over how to tell Val about Trish’s unexpected phone call last night. She was flying in for a couple of days to celebrate her mother’s birthday, but the friend who agreed to pick her up at the airport had suddenly canceled because of an emergency. Trish asked if I could step in, and offered to buy me dinner on the way to her mother’s house. We hadn’t seen each other in over a year and I was eager to catch up. On impulse I agreed to give her the ride, being reasonably sure Val’s photography session would be over by then. Now however, I had the nasty detail of informing Val of these events. Suddenly I wasn’t quite as sure she’d approve of my change in schedule.

I found Val reading the paper on her rear patio, finishing her omelet, served with tea and a croissant. Having delivered me, the maid removed Val’s plate and returned to the kitchen to tidy up.

I walked to a point two paces from Val’s chair and knelt, saying, “I’m here for you, Ma’am."

She regarded me over her narrow glasses. “And so you are. Good morning. Are you ready for your photo shoot, Koishi?” I told her I was. “Splendid,” she said, putting the paper down and rising to her feet. She touched my hair and gazed into my eyes for a moment before tapping her left thigh,
heel
. I stood and moved to the proper place, a half pace behind and to her left.

Val led me to one of the guest bedrooms. “Undress,” she said casually, and I did so, folding my clothes in a neat pile on the bed. “Turn about,” she commanded. My heart began to race as she inspected my body, and my lingering bruises elicited a chuckle. “I guess you’ll need some makeup there, too. Or perhaps not. We’ll see."

I turned back to face her but kept my eyes lowered. From a pretty Art Nouveau-style vanity she picked up a black scarf and folded it a few times, then placed it over my eyes and tied it in back. When she was done I could see nothing. The loss of sight left me unsteady on my feet. I experienced the bizarre sensation of being naked yet clothed in darkness, and it made me shiver. I heard her pick up something that sounded like cloth.

Val took my hand and said, “Come with me.” I was guided carefully through the hallway to the main entry, where she left me standing for a moment as she retrieved her bag. I heard its catch, and the sound of keys.

She opened the door and led me outside into the warm, swirling air. Palm trees rustled overhead and the tiled porch was smooth under my feet, except for the occasional bit of leaf or gravel. There, she helped me down the low steps to the driveway. I wondered if any of Val’s neighbors would see me here, and hoped the eucalyptus windbreaks on either side of the property gave enough cover. We stopped beside her car, which made me jump when its alarm deactivated with a double-whoop.

We were driving somewhere. With me naked and blindfolded? The enormity of these new unknowns forced me to blurt out, “But, Ma’am…”

“The doll has a question?” she said, testily. A car door opened.

“No, Ma’am."

“Careful now,” she said, guiding me down, down, into the too-low passenger side of her sports car, the seat hard and cool against my body. Val buckled me in, smoothed the wide strap where it crossed my bare chest, and fluffed a light sheet over my body, tucking it in under my legs, behind my back, shoulders, and neck. In my mind’s eye, I imagined the sheet as being robin’s egg blue. “You’d better pray this doesn’t slip off. I’m not stopping to fix you,” she warned. Then she opened the glove compartment and slipped a pair of bulky sunglasses over my blindfold. They didn’t sit quite right with the blindfold covering my nose, but it was snug enough. She withdrew, closed the door, and walked smartly around to her side and got in. The wind rocked the car slightly. In this small space, the air felt close.

The car beeped as it woke up, and then we were off, gliding in her strangely quiet electric car down the winding road that lead to the freeway, with only the sound of tires on roadway and airflow over the canopy. I hoped the tinting on her windows was darker than I remembered it.

This time
there was no stopping
, the safeword could not halt this scene; I was committed. My clothes, my very identity, had been left behind. For the very first time I’d let Val maneuver me into total vulnerability, which was terrifying, yet shockingly erotic. Could I trust her?

I prayed Val wouldn’t have an accident, that she wouldn’t get pulled over by the highway patrol, that no busybody housewife in a passing SUV would see down into our car and phone in a kidnapping. I mentally pictured the Amber Alert sign at the White Oak exit glowing with the urgent message:

ABDUCTION IN PROGRESS
BLK SPORTSCAR LIC#7PYJ643

I clutched the thin sheet tightly and tried not to think about the million ways this could go horribly wrong.

Usually Val played music while driving, but not this time. I think she she wanted me to hear every car we passed.

§

By the time we pulled into a sloped, curving driveway, twenty minutes later, I was slightly motion-sick from the blind ride. I knew we were near the ocean from the sound of gulls and the breaking of waves to my right. I could smell it, too, and the air was cooler. I guessed we were somewhere in Malibu.

She stopped the car and got out. My stomach fluttered with the knowledge that whatever Val had in mind, it began now. She opened my door and took the sheet and sunglasses from me, but left the blindfold as it was. After putting the things in the trunk she helped me rise from the car, apologizing when I bumped my my head lightly on the roof. The sensation of warm sunlight and cool wind swirling over my bare body was delicious, made sweeter by my lack of vision.

The concrete driveway was almost too hot for my bare feet. But it was only about twenty paces before she brought me into shadow, up a couple of steps. A door opened, and I was led inside. Here I heard voices and the sounds of activity in another room. The door closed behind me.

Val untied the blindfold, and my dark-adapted eyes took a moment to adjust. I stood in the foyer of a large house at least as large as Val’s, and saw open crates stacked against the wall as if equipment had been brought in and set up. She explained: “This is a friend’s house. She was kind enough to lend its use while she’s away in Europe. Isn’t it lovely?"

As I looked around, taking it all in, she had eyes only for me. Presently she said, “Doll will stay here,” and walked down the hall. Left there by myself I felt small and lost, unsure of what to do with my hands. Presently she returned with a man, saying, “Stephan, this is my doll Koishi; she’ll be our model today.” She pronounced it
Steh-FAHN
, accent on the second syllable, making it sound Continental, or maybe just pretentious. I noticed, also, that she made no counter introduction, him to me.

“Hello, Koishi.” His handshake was light, pleasant. He was younger than Val, about my age, but I could easily imagine them existing in the same social spaces. He also had a slightly vampiric flavor about him, though more tan and dark-haired. He wore dark slacks and a sky-blue buttoned shirt that complimented his blue-gray eyes.

“Give us a nice little turn, pet,” Val told me, and I obeyed self-consciously.

Apparently Stephan was not at all put off by meeting one of Val’s naked, shivering dolls. He regarded me with a photographer’s jaded eye, yet I thought a trace of prurience flickered there.

“Delicious,” he said, studying me the way Val did, like a CAT scan. “How long have you had her?”

“Almost a month. She’s been very pleasing, so far."

“She must not have been
entirely
pleasing,” he laughed. “I see we’ll need some makeup on that pretty little behind." He touched me there, circling the bruises with a fingertip.

I would never get used to being discussed and handled in this way, like an object, a non-person.

“Let’s get started, hmm?” Stephan said, after glancing at his expensive wristwatch. He called out, “Jenn!” A mousy-looking woman came over. “Jennifer, this is Koishi. She’s all yours."

“Hi. I love your name,” she gushed. “Come on over here and we’ll start on your makeup."

Did
none
of these people feel the least bit awkward talking to a bruised, naked girl? What planet were they from?

Jennifer led me down a hallway, into a bedroom that had become a temporary makeup facility.

There was something alien-looking on a plastic sheet on the bed. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but had the impression of a giant, filleted koi fish. When I poked at it, it proved to be made of fabric and rubber, covered in white, orange, and black scales, with a big fin at the end. “What’s this?” I asked, somewhat sheepishly.

“Your costume, sweetie. You’re going to be a mermaid. Didn’t Miss Stregazzi tell you?"

I shook my head, no.

I sat patiently at the vanity while she applied makeup to my face, my body, then glued scales here and there from my shoulders to just below my ribs.

“You’d better use the little girl’s room before we put the tail on. You’ll be stuck in it for a while,” Jennifer told me. She pointed to the bathroom door.

I took her advice. After, it felt exceedingly strange to emerge from the bathroom without having covered myself first, and my hands were acutely aware of that ritual’s absence.

Putting on the tail took forever. As I lay on the bed she loosely bound my legs together with elastic bandage, from ankle to knee. The big tail fluke was actually a diver’s monofin, with the feet covered in false fish skin. Jen zipped up the tail, then painstakingly painted scales around my waist where the costume ended, creating a subtle fade with my natural flesh tone. She glued a few more scales over the painted parts. The final result was stunning; the most elaborate mermaid costume I’d ever seen, with its hand-sewn scales, tiny pelvic fins, and a frilly dorsal ridge hiding the zipper in back. I looked exactly like a koi-mermaid. Val must have had it specially made for me, and now I knew why she’d taken those measurements of my body, weeks ago.