by Eliza Master
Renata lowered herself to her oriental carpet and sat cross-legged. She was feeling kinky with her right hand bound. She moved her finger from the bound hand to her clit. Damn, she was sensitive. With the tiny flick, she stimulated herself and felt her pearl swell. It felt good; so good. Then Renata was gasping, breathing faster and faster. She strained against her own knots, but they held tight as she climaxed. Renata surrendered and heaved a sigh of relief.
What time is it? Would she be late for shibari practice? Renata’s mind was no longer fogged by her libido, and she worried she had spent too long practicing. She didn’t want to miss the shibari class, after all! She freed her right hand and quickly untied herself. Then she pulled on her jeans and put her hair in a bun. She filled a large shoulder bag with ropes, long fabric strips, and a few leather straps from the trunk. She felt excited and jittery all at once. Should she show off some of her new knots or keep them secret? Despite the relief she had felt just moments before, she was still throbbing and wished she could cum again.
8
Nima
Renata arrived at the Castro Theater quietly. The studio lights were dimmed, so she stood in the back and watched. Dmitri was finishing up a huge presentation. He had created a realistic, three-dimensional spider web from white rope and tied four girls into it, where they looked like flies waiting to be eaten. Renata wondered if he had used a ladder to tie them up so high. She figured he planned on having his next performance here so he could use this rigging. It must have taken some time to complete and was obviously semi-permanent.
She examined Dmitri’s web. The support ropes had been looped through two trapeze platforms overhead and down onto floor rings. They crossed in the center like a haphazard star. Dmitri had woven colored rope with reflective streamers inside and around the support ropes, causing the web to glow like it came straight from a fairy world. Renata could tell it was very strong, but it appeared delicate like a filigree cobweb. Dmitri was an artist, mused Renata. She felt honored that he had invited her to tie with him.
She examined the faces of the four women that were already part of the shibari sculpture. They were the same girls from the performance she had seen with Cherise; the ones on the ruby circles. Renata watched as Dmitri laced the last woman onto the web with a black cotton cord. She knew that cotton kept the girl secure without rope burn. Dmitri encased her in a fetal position. She was suspended and pinned against the web at an off angle. The woman closed her eyes and quietly blended into the piece. Was it the same woman who had been in fetal position at the Club Destiny show? Renata wondered if each woman chose the positions to be tied in, and whether or not they had the option to choose between one or multiple positions. Renata herself liked versatility.
Renata observed the four other women in the web. They dangled in sprawling positions, looking very much like they had been poisoned by a big spider. One hung upside down with her face roped towards her chest. The position was creepy, but Renata knew it probably controlled blood flow and allowed her to stay in that posture longer. After all, this was art, not sadism.
Now Dmitri led a sixth girl on stage. She was wearing a leather leash and collar. He tied the leash to his web and walked off stage. The woman sat down with deliberately sluggish movements, keeping her expression vacant. Dmitri dragged out a knotted blanket. He must have made it, thought Renata. The blanket was knotted from the same rope as the web. He tied it to the web above the leashed woman and laid out the rest like a rug.
Then Dmitri led the woman onto the rug blanket, where she lay on her side with one knee drawn in. She made a pillow with both hands and rested her head on it. Gracefully, Dmitri lifted the end of the rope blanket and rolled the woman inside it, keeping her arms and face exposed. The woman spayed her fingers and separated her arms as if in distress. She was lying free of the web but cloaked in the knotted blanket. Renata’s eyes landed on the fallen girl, she looked lost but at peace too. Was this the feeling Dmitri had intended?
The studio was very quiet – so quiet that Renata could hear Dmitri breathing. She had never seen shibari on this scale before. Dmitri finished his rehearsal and padded around checking the tension of the ropes. He had an extension pole with a metal hook on the end that he used to pluck the web in different spots; some strings were tight enough that the vibration made a musical tone. Dmitri studied which way the suspended girls turned and pulsed, and made some notes on a white pad.
Effortlessly he climbed up the web and looped in his own leg. Maybe he had trained as a trapeze artist, thought Renata. He hung backwards and swung his back against the rigging, shaking the whole structure. It rattled on the metal above, but all the girls stayed in position. They were docile and appeared unafraid. Dmitri raised himself back up and loosened his leg, then climbed to the very top of the web and looped both of his arms and legs into the rigging; the effect reminded Renata of Da Vinci’s famous Vitruvian Man. Dmitri held perfectly still. The room seemed to get darker as the web billowed in Renata’s vision.
“Okay!” Dmitri shouted from the web, breaking the tension. He had noticed Renata in the back of the theater. She walked to the front as Dmitri limbed down stealthily. “Take down please,” he commanded someone. A young man appeared, one Renata hadn’t seen before, and handed Dmitri a small towel. “Thank you,” Dmitri said, wiping sweat from his brow.
Dmitri did some simple stretches while the young man untied all the girls. Renata watched him climb as deftly as Dmitri had. “How’s it hanging?” one of the women said to him. She was still tied in a sideways fetal position. The woman fell into his arms as he loosened her, and together they climbed down the web.
“Awesome,” the man responded when he reached the bottom. The woman gave him a warm kiss on the cheek. After the women were all down, the young man wrapped the cord in neat loops. He wound them between his palm and around to his triceps and then secured them into skeins.
The atmosphere changed as the girls chatted.
“Shelly, can you give me a ride?” one called to another.
“Sure, want to grab a beer?”
To Renata, it felt like the women were a team that had just won a game, hugging each other and gathering up their belongings to leave.
Dmitri’s young man greeted Renata with a big smile. “I’m Nima.” He offered his hand, his grip gentle and sweet. There was something familiar about him. He was the same height as Renata, so she looked straight into his brown eyes.
“Have we met before?” asked Nima, reading Renata’s mind. Renata took in his button nose and almond eyes. He had shiny black hair and was freshly shaved. Renata thought he was probably Middle Eastern. There was something else there too, in the young man’s eye, but it flitted away before Renata could catch it. Nima handed Dmitri a stack of perfectly folded fresh clothes.
“Welcome. Excuse me. I’ll be right with you,” Dmitri said to Renata, as he left to change.
“So you are…?” Nima’s eyes drifted to her mid section. He broke off as Renata’s lips tightened. Could he tell she was pregnant? “Renata,” he answered, as if she had answered the question.
“Yes. Nice to meet you,” said Renata, relieved that Dmitri wasn’t there.
“He’ll want you to sit here,” said Nima, gesturing to an old Victorian-style dining chair. Up close it looked scratched and worn, but from a distance the shabbiness was veiled by the chair’s elegance. There was a plush beige cushion on the seat that looked rather inviting. The chair was on the corner of the stage with its back to the audience. Renata wondered if it was the same one they had used in other shibari shows.
She sat down without asking why she was supposed to. Nima brought a small table and folding chair and placed them in front of Renata, and then he took a seat in the folding chair. Renata sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
“Have you been working with Dmitri for a long time?” she finally asked.
“Oh, darling, it seems like forever.” Nima’s voice lilted up playfully as he dropped his hand from his
wrist dramatically. Renata suddenly warmed to Nima; he was disarming and comforting. She thought they might become friends. And Nima definitely had his fem on. “Here’s my number in case you need anything,” he went on, handing her a business card. His eyes dropped to her belly, and he smiled conspiratorially.
Dmitri returned in flip-flops and clean clothes. He cleared his throat, interrupting Renata and Nima.
“Is that all, Mr. Dmitri, sir?” Nima’s tone was formal as he leapt from the chair, holding it out for his superior to sit in.
“Yes, thank you very much, Nimayah.” Dmitri raised his hand in dismissal. “Good to see you again, and thanks for coming.”
Nima quietly slipped away.
Dmitri inclined his head towards Renata. “Do you like my web?”
“Very much,” Renata purred. Her chair faced the web head-on. Her mind was far from her own problems as she took in the magic of Dmitri’s shibari sculpture. She felt her own creative juices flowing. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said.
“It’s my largest so far.” Dmitri’s Russian accent was sexy. “My first web was made in a window.” Renata raised her eyebrows questioningly. “I will tell you the story, yes?”
Renata nodded.
Dmitri began. “When I first came to San Francisco, I lived in an apartment near Chinatown, and my bedroom window faced directly into my neighbor’s bedroom window.” Dmitri casually slipped off his flip-flops and stared beyond Renata like he was talking to the audience.
“You see” – Dmitri’s gaze resettled onto her face – “my neighbor had a very pretty girlfriend and a big mirror on his wall. So when she came over, I couldn’t help noticing the activities they had going on.” He chuckled. “The girlfriend had long, blonde hair and small curves. My neighbor was tall and lean, and large in a manly way. I would dim my apartment so they couldn’t see me. Then I sat just out of view to watch their show. They went at it during the day and night, so I would watch whenever I wanted to.”
Renata was fascinated but curious as to why Dmitri would share something so private. She crossed her arms under her breasts and slid back in her chair.
Dmitri continued. “Then the girl didn’t show up for a while. I glanced out the window now and then, but the guy was just there sleeping, so I stopped watching. Meanwhile, a spider had moved into the window frame and wove a gorgeous web over the glass. Then one morning, the girlfriend was back. First she straddled my neighbor and held him down. Then he handcuffed her to the bed. She was like a fighting animal, fierce and wild. It was a show I’d never seen before. I watched the whole thing through the web my friend the spider had woven.
“After that I started wondering what it would be like to be that spider and see what a spider sees, how a spider sees. I tied small webs on furniture and then on people.” Dmitri paused while Renata waited. “And now this is my own web, and I am its spider, “ he finished. The story had awoken Renata’s libido; she was hot and horny without wanting to be.
“It is unique,” she said shifting in her seat, trying to elevate her pussy from the chair. She didn’t need any extra stimulus. Renata had made her tone professional. After all, this was a meeting, not a date.
“Would you mind sitting up and uncrossing your arms?” Dmitri had caught her off guard. Was he on some weird ego trip? “Only if you want to,” he added casually. Somehow she did want to. She felt her pussy against the chair cushion again. Sitting up, a little giggle popped out accidentally.
“I also tie my own knots, and I’ve been trained professionally by several teachers,” Renata added, giving her credentials. She was trying to back-pedal from the accidental giggle, her mind now going in several directions.
“Could you spread your knees two inches and move your hands off your lap?” Dmitri interrupted. Renata narrowed her eyes at him, but then did as he asked. “Could I tie you in my web?” he asked.
That was pushing it, thought Renata. Her dragonfly tattoo itched. She purposely deflected his question by pretending he hadn’t asked it. “So, I have some new patterns I could exhibit,” Renata continued in her professional tone. She had enjoyed Dmitri’s testosterone-laden commands, but she wasn’t here to be tied. Renata was a rope master too. “I like to use men for my subjects,” she challenged, asserting dominance.
Dmitri laughed loudly. “Really? How wonderful!” He seemed genuinely surprised. “I have Nima, if you want to show me.”
“Umm, sure, if he doesn’t mind.” Renata had thought he was gone, but apparently he was backstage somewhere.
“Oh, he doesn’t mind. I’m sure you two will be fast friends,” proclaimed Dmitri generously. “I will get him.”
Renata flushed. “I have to go, but thank you.” She was feeling horny and vulnerable, and she didn’t feel like performing for Dmitri right now. Plus it was getting late.
“So I will see you next week at the same time?”
“Yes, I’ll be here.” Renata stood.
“Next time we tie.” Dmitri rose and kissed Renata’s hand formally.
She grabbed her shoulder bag and quickly left the theater.
9
Gayle and Katrina Collaborate
Katrina started her morning in the break room again. The coffee machine sat innocently percolating on the counter. She knew Renata didn’t suspect anything and loved the fresh cup she received every morning.
Katrina was making progress at Agri-Gen. Despite not having the looks or specialness that Renata possessed, Gayle trusted her, and she was in the know now that she had gotten more information out of Gayle about Renata’s pregnancy. The coffee powder contained a special ingredient that would increase the strength of Renata’s proteins. The proteins would then be used for a female sex drug, of which Gayle was to be the supplier.
Gayle had also said that Renata’s child would be a gold mine for this product, especially if it were a female. She told Katrina that they had secretly implanted Renata’s own fertilized egg back inside her. They had only inserted female embryos, she had said. Gayle had not mentioned whose sperm it was, and Katrina had no idea who “they” were. According to Gayle, Renata was promiscuous enough that she thought she had an accidental pregnancy. Katrina smirked. Apparently Renata didn’t know everything.
Katrina poured the coffee into a mug for Renata and mixed in the powder. Looking over her shoulder, she took a gulp and then another of Renata’s tainted coffee. She wondered if the powder could make her proteins valuable too. She pondered starting her own gray powder regimen. Then she refilled the mug and wiped the rim clean.
Marching down the hallway, she paraded into her boss’s office. Handing over the hot mug, Katrina awkwardly said, “Good morning.”
“Thanks,” said Renata, barely glancing at Katrina. Katrina inspected Renata to see if the gray powder had any noticeable effects. Her boss looked as ravishing as ever. It just wasn’t fair! She was typing away on her computer screen like Katrina didn’t even exist.
Although dosing Renata’s coffee was not part of being Renata’s office assistant, Katrina made more money from that tiny act than working all day for her boss. She had searched online for the punishments for drugging someone, but hadn’t found anything about what could happen if you were doing it as a job for your superior. Gayle would be the one in trouble, not her, reasoned Katrina.
Katrina also searched for the use of genetic material in medical research. A lot of sources said different things; they didn’t have any cold, hard regulations that Katrina could decipher. She did learn that the free use of medical waste was a resource for all the big drug companies. In fact, the whole world was a litter box of DNA that was up for grabs. Katrina reassured herself that it wasn’t a crime to give Gayle Renata’s coffee cup with skin cells on it. Those cells were simply trash that the dishwasher got rid of anyhow. They didn’t belong to Renata anymore.
Please come to my office. The text was from “NewBossLady,” Katrina’s contact name for Gayle Anderson. Katrina pirouetted on the white carpet towards the
executive office at the end of the hall; the powder had lifted her mood. Gently Katrina tapped on the door.
“Come on in,” called New Boss Lady from behind her desk.
Katrina had only been in this office once before, when it had belonged to Erik. Now the office was Gayle Anderson’s headquarters. The office had transformed from the masculine sophistication of Erik’s Danish design to Gayle Anderson’s Americana. Katrina stepped in and looked around.
Gayle was sitting behind a heavy lacquered Judge Judy-style desk, which sat bricklike in the center of the room. On the walls were framed documents and a painting of horses running beneath a sunset. Two walls were floor to ceiling windows with the same sweeping view as ever. Gayle’s office chair was as big as a La-Z-Boy with thick cushions. There were three smaller chairs for visitors. Gayle ushered Katrina into one of those. “How are you, darling?” Gayle asked like she was a relative.
“I’m fine, thank you,” replied Katrina. Suddenly she felt nervous about the unexpected meeting. An eagle statuette on the desk drew her gaze. She worried that the powder was making her act weird. Gayle’s face looked crinkled and her boobs were huge. Until now Katrina had not realized how stacked Gayle was; maybe a double D? Gayle was big all over, and probably strong too, realized Katrina. She propped up her own boobs, proud that guys had always appreciated them. Katrina imagined them as delicious cantaloupes and held back a giggle as her nervousness disappeared.