Desire in Any Language

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Desire in Any Language Page 7

by Anastasia Vitsky


  “How do you know Ah-ee?” she asks, but I can only watch those powerful fingers curl around the glass beer bottle, nails perfectly aligned and sparkling.

  Ah-ee nudges me. “Tell her we’re in the same class, dummy,” she says. When I still don’t answer, she stares at me. Stares at the other girl, then stares at me again. As realization starts to set in, she begins to laugh. Pushes me onto the couch right next to the girl and ignores my discombobulated squeaks.

  “We’re in the same class,” Ah-ee tells the girl. Ah-ee leans to whisper in my ear. “Aren’t you glad I made you get your sexy new dress?”

  I nearly choke on the beer the girl has handed to me, and I shoot Ah-ee the most dire glare I can manage while still trying to make a good impression on the new girl. Ah-ee laughs again and leaves to continue making the rounds.

  “Hi,” I say intelligently.

  The girl runs her hand through her gleaming black hair. I watch, mesmerized.

  “Hi,” she replies with a laugh. I desperately try to think of something witty and brilliant, but I can only think of the television jingle for the beer we are drinking.

  “Hi,” I say again before I can stop myself. The full, open bottle of beer in my hand tilts dangerously.

  She lets her hair fall to her shoulders again and reaches to take the bottle from me. As her fingers brush against mine, I gasp and my leg twitches.

  “What’s wrong?” she says, setting the bottle on the coffee table and placing a hand on my thigh. It’s the Fourth of July and the 1812 Overture all at once, and I can’t get out a single word over the relentless internal explosions.

  “What was your name? Mira? Are you okay?”

  I subdue my gasps by sheer willpower, and I cover her hand with my own. “Kiss me,” I say.

  I drop her hand and cover my face in horror. I meant to ask her name. I meant to just think it, not say it. I didn’t even mean to think it! The only reason I don’t run to the bathroom to hide is that I am afraid if I move the tiniest bit that someone will see me. Maybe I will melt into a puddle right on this couch. Yes, an invisible Mira-puddle.

  Something soft brushes against my lips, and the fireworks soar in cascading brightness throughout my pelvis, my stomach, and every single inch of my skin. I don’t dare open my eyes. I don’t dare move. That is, until I hear a low whisper.

  “Don’t you know it’s bad manners not to kiss back?”

  “I can’t kiss you back,” I murmur. It’s difficult to talk. “I don’t even know your name.”

  She reaches down to squeeze my bottom. I yelp, and she gives it a gentle slap. “It’s Hana. Don’t make me make you scream it.”

  Then her arms are around me, and despite being in view of a houseful of strangers I choose to know nothing more.

  In the end it is Ah-ee who has to drag me away from the discreet bedroom where Hana has brought me, and Ah-ee reminds me that we have to go to class tomorrow to get our results. I couldn’t care less, but Ah-ee takes down Hana’s phone number and gives her mine, then shoves me not very gently to the door. “Night!” she calls, holding onto my arm.

  “Just how much did you have to drink this time?” she asks, exasperated. “Do we have to take the elevator again?”

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Didn’t you find a hot guy?” If I think hard, I can keep the syllables from slurring together. I don’t bother to say I only had that one sip of beer. She won’t believe me.

  “No,” Ah-ee says crossly. Then she smiles. “Tell me about her.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “You didn’t learn anything about her in four hours? What did you do, kiss the whole time?”

  I blush. “Sort of.”

  Ah-ee leads me into the subway car. “Yuriko says she’s some kind of diplomat. Works with the embassy.”

  I stare at her, startled into soberness. “How does Yuriko know her?”

  “Says she’s really lonely. She was in some fancy high-security compound but she likes to go walking, and Yuriko met her one day at a street cart. She broke up with her girlfriend before coming here, and…”

  I cover my face again. “…and I kissed her. I’m an idiot. She probably has no idea I’m a student without even a job.”

  Ah-ee nudges me. “From what I saw of you two tonight, I’m not sure she really cares.”

  I moan. “Everyone saw us, didn’t they?”

  “No, not everyone. I think one or two of the neighbors couldn’t see that far in the window.”

  “Ah-ee!”

  She only laughs again. “Don’t mind me. I’m just jealous you found someone and I didn’t. When you’re rich living with the big-shot diplomat, don’t forget your friends in little places, okay?”

  “No, no…” What have I gotten myself into?

  As we fall into our beds that night, I can only think one thing.

  Does she believe in love?

  Desire Set Free

  “Mira!”

  She is laughing, hugging me, and even wiping away a tear.

  “It’s okay?”

  She shows me the papers. “Excellent” in three subjects! I’d hoped for the reading, but translation and even writing made it! Even listening and history received “Good.” The culture and etiquette class, my least favorite, received an “Acceptable”. I expected as much. Jung Sonsengnim hates me.

  “Is it good enough?”

  In answer, she fans out several sheets of paper with a flourish. I can’t read the difficult official words, though, and I give her a helpless look.

  “Sign here,” she says. I obediently lean over to sign each sheet.

  “What am I signing?” I ask.

  “Removal of temporary probation. Acknowledgment that you will maintain satisfactory progress. And…”

  Something in her voice makes me look at her. The other parts sound like good news, so why is she avoiding my gaze?

  “Transfer to a new advisor for the fall.” She fiddles with her cup, her pen, her books. I grip the edges of my chair. I must have misheard her. Didn’t I?

  “Mira?”

  “What did I do wrong?” It comes out in a whimper. I passed probation. I’m back in good standing. Why now?

  “Mira-ya…”

  Even through the tears that rush to my eyes, I see that one hand is resting on her stomach. A stomach that is no discernibly bigger than before, but to a very carefully observant eye might look the tiniest bit softer.

  “Are you…”

  “I’m sorry, Mira-ya.” She makes a move as if to hug me, but then she withdraws her arm. As if, for the first time, she is the one who is afraid.

  Jung Sonsengnim would be appalled to see me throw my arms around my tutor’s neck. It is not proper for a student to physically approach a teacher. But it is Eunji Oni, not Jung Sonsengnim, who kisses my head and draws me in close. Strokes my hair and murmurs little sounds I imagine she will soon be crooning to her baby-to-be.

  “I’m so proud of you, Mira-ya,” she says. “I’ll be back after the baby is born. And we’ll have you over sometime for dinner during summer break. My husband wants to meet you for real, when we can sit down and talk.”

  My mind is whirling.

  “Will it be a girl or a boy?”

  She beams, lost in thought. “I keep dreaming of peaches…”

  “Will you name her after me?”

  She laughs and cups my cheek in her hand. “Will you be a good student and stop getting yourself in trouble?”

  “No more probation,” I promise. Then I think of something. “Who will be my advisor while you’re gone?”

  She pats my arm. “Listen before you get upset.”

  A few weeks ago, I would have gotten upset. Maybe run out of the door and kept running. But I’m a different Mira now.

  “Lee Sonsengnim wants to be your advisor.”

  I stare at her in shock. “You’re kidding.”

  Jung Sonsengnim would chide me for contradicting a superior, but Oni laughs.

  “At least I
know he won’t let you get away with anything.”

  I blush. I’m not sure if I want anyone besides her to have that kind of authority over me. “Will he…”

  I don’t finish my question, but she nods. “Do you need him to?”

  I shake my head. “Not from him, please not from him.”

  She thinks. “I’ll still be here for the rest of this term, and we can check in over summer vacation. But I don’t want you backsliding, Mira. Are you going to be able to manage on your own?”

  I glance at her rod and give an involuntary shudder. I’ve found out its effectiveness the hard way over the past few weeks. Painful as it might be, I’ve been more settled, more focused, and more at peace.

  “If I’m here for you the rest of this term and a bit over summer and then again next spring, can you do fall with Lee Sonsengnim? Or will you let yourself get back into bad habits?”

  I think of Hana. We have just had a few phone calls and one date, but her interest in my bottom was quite clear.

  “I don’t think that will be a problem,” I answer.

  On the bus, laden with snacks and treats from Eunji Oni, I pull out my scratched-up grey rental phone. Flip it open, dial a number, and wait.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Mira!” she exclaims. “I thought you’d never call.”

  “Sorry I’m late but I had to stay a bit afterward…”

  “We’ll discuss that when you get here.”

  “Yes, Hana,” I say meekly.

  “I’ll show you some love,” she answers.

  The rush of warmth is indescribable. Who knew that the Fourth of July could arrive more than once a year?

  Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us!

  There are plenty more stories such as the one you’ve purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our might selection!

  http://www.blushingbooks.com

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of Contents

  Desire Discovered

  Desire Lost

  Desire Frozen

  Desire Dreamed

  Desire Searching

  Desire Endangered

  Desire Expressed

  Desire Begun

  Desire Courageous

  Desire Encountered

  Desire Set Free

  Table of Contents

  Desire Discovered

  Desire Lost

  Desire Frozen

  Desire Dreamed

  Desire Searching

  Desire Endangered

  Desire Expressed

  Desire Begun

  Desire Courageous

  Desire Encountered

  Desire Set Free

 

 

 


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