Odalisque

by Annabel Joseph

  How would you feel if he looked at you that way?

  Dark-haired Minya shrank away, fell to her knees. Theo pulled her up again, not roughly but not gently either, and pushed her face down over the edge of a box. Kelsey waited for Minya to pull away, but the quivering woman stayed still, her legs pressed together and her face buried in her arms.

  Kelsey knew she shouldn’t witness this private moment, but she couldn’t look away. She watched with horrified fascination as Theo rummaged through his gym bag and then straightened. Some kind of belt or strap dangled from his hand. Oh my God. Kelsey felt traumatized and yet aroused by the menacing way he stood, his stern expression. She sucked in a silent breath as he put his hand on the small of Minya’s back. The sound of the strap’s impact made her jump.

  Kelsey dug her nails into her palm, shocked that Minya didn’t try to get away. But she didn’t. She actually seemed to be enjoying it, squirming and pressing her hips against the edge of the box. Kelsey could hear her low, erotic moans each time he brought the strap down again. How did Minya stay so still? The only sign of any distress was a small kick of her feet--and those muffled moans.

  Kelsey stared as Theo wielded the strap without mercy or hesitation. He was clearly enjoying himself too, from the aggressive pleasure written on his face. She’d read about people doing this kind of stuff, but to see it going on right in front of her eyes...to hear the cracking sounds of impact and Minya’s intimate noises...

  Kelsey’s knees gave out. She huddled behind the crate and hugged herself, listening to the sound of the steady blows and Minya’s whimpers. She slid her hand between her legs, trying to soothe the shocking, unexpected bloom of lust. Her stomach was in knots as the strapping continued, but her clit signaled something else altogether. You like this. This violence against her.

  You want it yourself.

  At last the sound of the blows stopped. Kelsey scrambled to her feet and peered over the top of the crate. Theo squeezed and patted Minya’s ass cheeks through her leotard while she remained submissively draped over the box. A snap of his fingers, and she was down on the floor again. Kelsey’s pussy seemed to pulse in time with the petite woman’s movements. How would it feel to lie at his feet, conquered by him, her ass burning hot from his strap?

  Kelsey held her breath as Theo thrust his hand down his gym pants and...oh my God. He fisted his engorged, jutting cock, beckoning his partner. His lover. Minya didn’t resist him, even when he grabbed the back of her hair in his hand and... Wow. How could Minya take him so deep in her throat and still breathe?

  Minya reached out to brace herself against his legs. He took her hands in his and pulled her closer. Minya gagged slightly, but she didn’t fight, didn’t resist, and he didn’t back away from her. It was so carnal, so animalistic that Kelsey forgot herself and gasped aloud. His gaze flew to hers at once, over boxes and crates of equipment. Their eyes locked, and then his lips twisted into a grin.

  “Hey you, girl, hiding there. Either join us or get out.”

  It was the first words he’d ever spoken to her. Kelsey ducked her head and ran for her life.

  *** *** ***

  After that, Kelsey saw him constantly, no matter how much she went out of her way to avoid him. They were all working on Tsilaosa together, so it really couldn’t be helped. She was in training, slated to replace one of the acrobats who was taking a break to start a family. Theo and Minya were a well-established act, one of the anchor acts for the production. With a cast of only fifty-odd people, Kelsey was pretty visible as a trainee, and there was no chance he hadn’t recognized her. When he met her eyes the next day in the weekly production meeting, he made it abundantly clear that he remembered her and what she’d seen.

  Minya, on the other hand, ignored her. The doe-eyed trapezist seemed lost in her own world. Kelsey had always interpreted her stand-offishness and dreamy quality as artistic affectation, but now she couldn’t stop picturing her cowering at Theo’s feet. She wondered what Minya had done to deserve that punishment--if it was even really punishment--and how often the two played out scenes like the one she’d spied on.

  Damn. She had to stop thinking about them. It was after seven, and the troupe was assembling in the backstage area to prepare for the evening’s show. Kelsey stretched on mats by the back wall while performers warmed up on tightropes, treadmills, and training bars in the center. She kept her back to the structure where Theo normally warmed up with a series of chin-ups. Kelsey had learned to resist the urge to sneak looks, because damn it, he always caught her. He’d pin her with those coal black eyes, and she would flush hot with embarrassment. But there was no reproach in his gaze, only an all-too-knowing assessment--that was the worst part of all.

  Kelsey had a sick feeling he knew she hadn’t been scandalized by what she’d seen. God, if he had any idea how many times she’d masturbated over it, hiding under her blankets in the company dorms... Even now, in the middle of the busy backstage, the scene replayed itself in her mind for the hundredth time. Minya’s graceful submission and Theo’s muscular arm rising and falling--

  “Hey, Kels. How’s it going?”

  Kelsey swung around, hoping her train of thought wasn’t written all over her face. “Oh. Hi.”

  Jason Beck was one of her coaches, a fellow Californian who made the unfamiliar French headquarters feel a little more like home. Like all the Cirque’s employees, he was supremely fit and staunchly professional. He put a hand on her back. “Want me to help you stretch?”

  She didn’t take it as a come on even though, before Theo, Jason would have been her type--tall and muscular, with longish chestnut hair he tamed into a ponytail most days. Kelsey knew the countless times Jason touched and manipulated her each day had nothing to do with sex or flirtation. It was just part of his job.

  Jason had a reputation for being zealous about his new recruits, about getting them acclimated and involved in one of Cirque du Monde’s fifteen currently operating shows, which is why she’d been glad to end up under his tutelage. Kelsey tolerated his poking, pushing, prodding, and general questioning as the practice space around them ratcheted up in motion and noise. Unfortunately, since she’d turned to talk to Jason, she saw Theo saunter past jugglers and a troupe of musclemen to lean against the pull-up bars. He scanned the room with haughty disinterest. Kelsey looked away before he caught her staring, but Jason noticed and turned to find the object of her scrutiny.

  He turned back to her a moment later and pursed his lips, pushing her ankle back nearly to her shoulder. “I wouldn’t recommend getting tangled up with the likes of him.”

  “‘The likes of him?’ You sound like my grandma.”

  “Grandma knows best,” he said, releasing her. “Listen, all the new girls--and guys--get fascinated with him in the beginning. But he’s not exactly relationship material.”

  “Minya likes him.” Kelsey watched Theo’s partner start warm ups on the practice trapeze. Theo glanced at Minya, then away. Kelsey studied them from behind Jason’s back, trying to decode their body language. “So, are they a couple or what?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “I’ll go with or what. You’re probably better off not knowing.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I mean, they’re weird. He’s weird, she’s weird. They belong together. You, on the other hand, are very normal and well-adjusted, and I’d hate to see that change.”

  “Well-adjusted? Really?” Kelsey frowned. “That basically means I’m boring.” Since coming to train at the Cirque, Kelsey had the sinking feeling she was horribly dull compared to everyone around her. Being detail-oriented, focused, and responsible had worked great for her in the world of competitive gymnastics, but now...

  “Kelsey, you are a breath of fresh air,” Jason assured her. “Too many over-the-top personalities around here. It gets old.” He finished with her other leg and chucked her under the chin. “What is this place, when two Californians are the most normal people to be found?” He started on her core, h
elping her twist and warm up her arms and shoulders. “While we’re on the subject, I would also avoid the parties he and his cronies attend.”

  Kelsey frowned. “Drugs?”

  “God, no. You know they test here. Therefore…they get their thrills in other ways. They call him the Rakehell, if that tells you anything. He’s not a nice guy.”

  “He doesn’t seem that nice.”

  “But he’s good at what he does. One of the best in the business.”

  “So I should admire him professionally, but avoid him socially.”

  “Like the plague.”

  Kelsey laughed. “Okay, I’m sensing you feel strongly about this.”

  “I just think you should be concentrating on your training right now. This is a transitional time for you in the company. They have high hopes for your future, but you have to give them what they want.”

  “Do you think I haven’t been concentrating on my training? I’m working damn hard. Ow!”

  Jason ruthlessly worked at a knot in one of her back muscles. “I didn’t say anything about you not concentrating. Let’s keep it that way. New people come in sometimes and get caught up in the partying and backstage shenanigans. I call it the circus underbelly. I’ve seen more than one promising recruit go down.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, way down.”

  Kelsey looked around at the assembled company as the stage manager called out “Ten minutes to animation!” None of the performers looked especially dissolute or seamy. Well, most of them didn’t, she thought, with a sidelong glance at the object of her obsession.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, shrugging away from her coach’s prodding fingers. “I’m not taking chances with anything right now.”

  “Genevieve says you can take Marisol’s place in just a few weeks, if you feel ready. How are things going with you and the other acrobats?”

  Kelsey turned to take in the group of Argentinean tumblers she’d been rehearsing with. She was getting the routines okay. They were certainly within her physical skill set. The greater challenge was growing more natural as a performer, and tapping into the communal synergy. The Argentineans were a smooth, well-oiled machine while she was still a misfiring spark plug. She didn’t even speak their language. She looked back at Jason and shrugged. “I just need practice. I don’t feel ready yet, but I’ll get it.”

  “Yes, you will.” He was manipulating her feet now, paying careful attention to her joints. “You can do all the things Marisol does. Easily. It’s just about getting into the rhythm of the group.”

  “And learning Spanish.”

  “Sí, querida. It will come. If you want to stay with Cirque du Monde, it wouldn’t hurt to learn French and Russian too. Mandarin, if you’re really ambitious.” He winked and patted her thigh, then moved off to help some of his other charges.

  Kelsey lay back with a sigh and stared up at the beams in the ceiling, and air conditioning ducts painted in red, orange, blue, and fuchsia. Kelsey had on a similarly multicolored leotard, and her puffy blue plastic wig with her light blonde hair tucked securely underneath. Her makeup was just as involved as the main performers, even though for now she was only an extra, cavorting during act changes and helping move equipment.

  She was anxious to get involved in one of the actual acts, but in the circus, you paid your dues and worked your way up. In the world of gymnastics she’d been a luminary, making it as far as a U.S. Olympic team alternate. Now she was an alternate again, training to step in for someone else. But she was here. The Cirque du Monde. Isn’t that what she’d wanted? She was tired of being the good girl, the disciplined Olympian. She was as creative and passionate as anyone else, and she was eager to let that side of her out into the light. That’s what she’d said during her interview with Genevieve, the director of the show.

  Now she just had to get it done.

  Kelsey sat up and looked around the room at her colorful cast of co-workers. Only Theo and Minya weren’t outfitted in rainbow hues. He was stark black from head to toe. No wig needed...his hair was black too. Minya was light to Theo’s dark, in a shimmering white and yellow bodysuit studded with crystals and topped off by a wig of fiery orange hair. For performances, she streaked the wig with red and gold highlights, to stunning effect.

  Theo took his partner’s hand, and Minya looked up at him sideways. Kelsey couldn’t see her expression. Was she smiling? Seductive? Or questioning? Theo looked at her so intently, so...possessively. What must that feel like? He cupped Minya’s face in his hand and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

  “Three minutes to animation!” The stage manager’s voice boomed in the backstage area. Kelsey shook off her horny daydreams and leaned to fish a red sugar straw out of her bag, tearing off the edge and upending it. A small, tart cascade of candy landed on her tongue. Across the room, Jason shook a finger at her, but she didn’t care. It was her pre-show ritual. The tart sugar was the taste of her dreams coming true.

  Kelsey pranced through her roles in the production, enjoying every moment of it. Bystander #3. Villager. Spotter. Minor roles, but each necessary, a small opportunity to shine. After she finished helping the juggler pull all her stuff off the stage, Kelsey settled down in the shadows of the wings to watch Theo and Minya’s act at the top of the vast auditorium. The couple clasped the trapeze together and a cable pulled them up, so far up, at least sixty feet in the air to the bird’s nest. They checked lines and the balance of the bar, and the act began.

  Kelsey had watched them fly so many times, she knew every release, every trick. Minya catapulted from Theo’s arms into a breathtaking somersault, and then back to his grasp. They flew side by side sometimes, in a sinuous dance of strength, and at other times, Minya hung from his hands, his knees, his shoulders. It amazed Kelsey, their strength and dexterity while swinging from a bar so many feet off the ground. There was no net, no spotters. For the final, most difficult trick, Minya wore a single safety line.

  Kelsey could never have done it. You can never have him, trapezist or no. He’s not for you. No, they belonged together, Theo and Minya, the gypsy king and his orange-gold shadow, flung and then caught up again in space. The beauty of their dance brought tears to Kelsey’s eyes. Theo swung high, higher. It was time for the big finish. Minya flew upwards, her arms spread wide--

  Kelsey knew right away something was wrong.

  The angle was too great, the height was off. The audience didn’t know. They gasped in awe at the way Minya soared. Kelsey watched Theo, her blood pounding in her ears. He swung back, a twist of his body, and tried to catch her on the way down. His legs strained and he arched, reaching for her. Even from sixty feet below, even petrified with horror, Kelsey noted the mortal concentration on his face. He caught his partner for a moment, grasped her by one hand. His grip arrested her arc and she jerked. She no longer looked graceful.

  Now, with that jerk and break in formation, the audience knew something was wrong, and the gasps turned to silence and panicked sharp screams. Kelsey’s own scream caught in her throat as the trapeze still swung and Theo lost his grip. Minya flew down, down, her yellow-red-orange-gold hair streaming behind as she dove head first toward the earth. It might almost be part of the act, it looked so graceful and dramatic. Kelsey waited for the safety to jerk Minya back, to halt her swan dive toward disaster. She saw the spotter pull the rope, faster and faster.

  The safety never caught.

  Look for Cirque du Minuit, the first novel in the Cirque du Monde series by Annabel Joseph, arriving in spring of 2012.

 

 

 
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