The Interrogation

by Robin Roseau

  "Ah. All right. Can you at least tell me what company you work for?"

  That was safe. "Harmon Software," I said. Katrina's eyebrow rose again. "Have you heard of us? We're very small."

  "No. I'm sorry," she said. "How long will you be in town?"

  "I'm not entirely sure," I replied. I wasn't. They told us to plan to be here until at least Tuesday. They would present whatever job offers they were going to present by Tuesday. If we accepted, we were to stay the week. Those without offers would go home Wednesday morning with a fresh severance package. "I'm pretty sure I'm going home on Wednesday."

  "Why don't you know how long you're staying?" she asked.

  "Um. It's sort of a job interview."

  "Oh," she said. "Thinking of leaving Harmon Software then."

  "Something like that."

  "Whom are you interviewing with. Maybe I know someone there."

  "I'm sorry, I can't tell you that."

  She lifted an eyebrow.

  "Really, I'm sorry." She looked at me with disappointment. "The NDA."

  "Of course," Katrina replied. She smiled. "Perhaps we should talk about something else."

  "That would be good," I replied, sipping from my champagne. It was half gone, and I could definitely feel the alcohol.

  Katrina raised a hand and seconds later, the waitress was back. Katrina didn't even look at her but said, "Water for us, please."

  "How old are you, Bethany?" Katrina asked.

  "Thirty-eight," I replied automatically.

  "Did you enjoy the show?"

  "I enjoyed watching you."

  "What were you thinking of when you were watching me?"

  I looked down. "Um."

  She waited for a while, but I was too embarrassed to answer.

  "Bethany," she said firmly. "Look at me!"

  I looked up into her eyes.

  "This is the way it works. I love your accent. I love your outfit. But when I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Or I can find someone else to talk to."

  "I'm sorry," I replied, looking down.

  "God damn it," she said. "Look. At. Me."

  I looked back up.

  "If you look away from me again, I am leaving," she said. "Do you understand?"

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  "That's not what I asked. Do you understand?"

  "Yes. I understand."

  "If I ask a question, you will answer it. I will allow you to hide behind your NDA, but if I ask you anything else, you will answer, or I will leave. I am not patient and I do not enjoy when you act the coquette. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Katrina," I replied.

  "Good. Now, what were you thinking while you were watching me."

  "I wondered about a lot of things."

  "List the first three that come to your mind."

  "I wondered what it would be like to have you doing those things to me," I told her immediately. "I wondered if-" I paused. "Oh god." I was about to tell her I wondered if she was a professional.

  "Tell me. Right now!" her voice was firm.

  "I wondered if you were a professional sex worker." I was mortified. "Oh god. I'm sorry." I started to slip from my chair, ready to flee as fast as my feet would carry me. But she reached out and grabbed my arm.

  "Do not leave," she said. "Sit."

  I sat, and she released my arm. "That's two. One more."

  "I wondered, if you were a professional, whether you took female clients and whether I could afford you."

  She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

  "Did you come to any conclusions on thought number two?"

  "No." I almost looked down at my hands, barely catching my eyes and snapping them back to hers. "I'm sorry-"

  "Silence." She studied me, then her expression softened. "Are you really this nervous, or is it an act?"

  "Terrified, Katrina."

  "Why?"

  "I'm making a fool of myself and probably insulting you. Why are you here with me when there's all these far sexier people to talk to?"

  "You are not making a fool of yourself," she said. "I find you intriguing. Does that frighten you?"

  "A little," I admitted. "I don't know what you want."

  "And that makes you nervous, but not terrified?"

  "Yes." I paused. "I don't want to disappoint you."

  She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. "Very good. That's a good attitude. You disappoint me when you do not look into my eyes. You disappoint me when you do not answer me honestly. Do you understand?"

  "No. Yes. Um. I understand what you said. I don't understand how I'm not a complete disappointment."

  She took a breath and held it for a moment before exhaling. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" she asked softly.

  "No, Katrina."

  "Good, Bethany," she replied. "I didn't want to leave. You are the most intriguing woman in the room. Would you like an answer to your question number two?"

  I started to look away, but she captured my chin and waved her free hand in front of my nose before releasing me. "I asked a question," she said.

  "Yes, I'd like an answer."

  "I am not a professional," she replied. "Although I hold myself to professional standards. Do you understand the difference?"

  "You don't get paid but you take pride in what you do."

  "Exactly. And so I don't take female clients. I do, however, very much enjoy taking females." She looked me up and down very slowly, and I felt the blush again. "Do you think you would enjoy if I took you?"

  "I don't know," I said honestly. I looked around, and she let me this time. She knew I wasn't hiding from her this time. "I'm not an exhibitionist." I turned back. "I thought about you touching me, but not everyone watching me. And I don't know what you would do to me. No one has ever done anything like that to me before."

  "But you've thought about it."

  "Yes."

  "And you're very curious."

  "Yes."

  She smiled again. The waitress arrived with our water, and Katrina turned to her. "Have someone bring one of my masks," she said. "The feathered, red one."

  "Yes, Katrina." The waitress disappeared.

  "Does everyone know you?" I asked.

  "They should. This is my party." She paused. "How much did you have to drink before you arrived?"

  "Nothing."

  She studied me. "Do you normally drink?"

  "Are you asking me whether I can hold my liquor?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes," I said. "I can." I looked at the champagne. "But I took a cab, and I wouldn't drive after three."

  "Prudent," she replied.

  The waitress returned carrying a costume mask. It was gold and red leather, adorned with a plume of red feathers on one side. Katrina thanked the waitress then held the mask in place over her face. She looked stunning.

  "I love masks," she said. "One can hide who one is behind them while being exposed at the same time." She gestured to her mouth. The mask surrounded her eyes closely, but the effect was to make her eyes look much bigger. Her nose poked out, and her face was bare below the mask, her bright red lips a complement to the red mask. "This one has ties. If you were to wear it, I would tie it in place so that your ravishing hair secured the tie at the back of your head. The mask would stay firmly in place, even if you were to be somewhat active."

  I smiled, not sure where she was going. But the mask was beautiful. I told her the second part. She returned my smile then set the mask on the table facing up.

  "When you wear a mask, no one knows who you are. Oh, if you wore my mask, I would know who you were, and you would know." She gestured around the room. "But no one here would know."

  I nodded, still not understanding where she was going.

  "Are you still frightened of me?"

  I thought about it. "No. Nervous, but not frightened."

  "Good." She caressed my cheek. "I would like to play a game. Do you think you would enjoy playing my game with me?"


  "I don't know," I admitted. "Yes. Maybe."

  "Yes or no," she said.

  "You haven't told me the game," I replied.

  "You already know the nature of the game, Bethany," she said. "You know my nature, and you know your own. Do you want to play my game or not?"

  She let me think about it. I smiled. "Yes, but I don't know what to do. But-"

  "But?"

  "Would you hurt me?"

  "Do you want me to hurt you?"

  "I don't know. Um."

  "Do you want me to spank you if you misbehave?"

  "Yes," I said in a small voice.

  "Do you want me to whip you?"

  "No!"

  "So you do not find pleasure in pain?"

  "No."

  "But you are excited about being helpless for me, aren't you?" I nodded slowly. "Well then," she said, "if you misbehave, I am obligated to punish you. But otherwise I have no intention of hurting you."

  "I don't know how you want me to behave, so I don't know what misbehaving would be."

  "You know how to behave," she replied. "I have already told you. And you have figured out the rest."

  "All right," I said.

  "So you wish to play my game?"

  "Yes," I said. "But not here!"

  She smiled. "That is why we have a mask," she said. She tapped a finger against her lips. "This is the game. You will don the mask. I will securely tie it in place, and I promise it won't come off, but if it does, I will protect you from all prying eyes."

  "Here?" I squeaked. "You want to play here?"

  "Yes," she said. "I want to play my game here. Yes or no, Bethany?"

  I looked around. No one was paying particular attention to us. Oh, Katrina got the occasional look, but no one was staring at us, and no one was bothering us. I turned back to face her. "If this is your party, I am surprised everyone isn't stopping by, hoping to take you away for someone more interesting than me."

  "They know better. Yes or no, Bethany?"

  I bit my lip. "I want to play," I said, looking around nervously. "With you. But-" I looked around.

  "Put the mask on," she said gently. "No one will think twice of seeing a woman in a mask here. Look," she said, gesturing with her nose, and I saw a woman in a mask not that different than the one Katrina was offering me. I looked around and saw other masks worn by both men and women. "Put the mask on and I'll tie it for you, then we'll talk a little more. If you do not want to play my game, I'll take my mask and leave you alone."

  "Can't we go somewhere more private?"

  "I wish to play my game here, Bethany," she said. "Put the mask on now."

  I looked down at it then carefully took the mask and placed it over my face. It felt good, the leather cool. I could smell leather and a scent I didn't identify at first, then realized it was her perfume. I smiled, holding the mask in place. Katrina returned my smile then slipped from her stool to move behind me. She gathered the leather laces from the mask, pulling the leather more firmly against my face, and did something to tie them at the back of my head, tangled into my hair a little bit.

  "Quite secure," she said when she was done, sitting back down on her stool. "How does it feel?"

  "Really good," I said. "It's soft and feels good."

  "This is one of my favorites," she admitted. "It looks very good on you. It hides your identity while not hiding you from me. It definitely complements your hair. I like this much better than a confining hood. I can touch your cheek." And she did exactly that, brushing her fingers across my skin. "And your lips." She traced her fingers across my mouth, her fingers lingering in place for a moment before withdrawing. "Very lovely."

  She talked quietly to me for a while, asking innocent questions, offering little about herself, but slowly I grew more comfortable as I hid behind her mask.

  "All right, Bethany, I am going to ask you a few questions. If you can't tell me, I understand. When did you arrive in San Francisco?"

  "Late last night," I said.

  "Did you have meetings today?"

  "No. I was a tourist. I went to Pier 39 and Ghirardelli Square." I smiled, remembering. "The sea lions were fun to watch."

  "And your plans for this weekend?"

  "Spend more time around town deciding if I could live here." I paused. "I do not believe I will be offered a job, but even if I am, I do not believe I could accept."

  "Why not?"

  "I can't imagine they could pay me what I'd need to be able to live here. I know how expensive it is."

  "Is that the only reason?"

  "So far," I admitted.

  "So you don't have family in Winston-Salem?"

  "I do, and we're close, but my older brother and younger sister have both moved away. Mom and Dad visit them and have always been supportive of our careers."

  "But they're getting older."

  "They're both doing very well, and they've assured all three of us that we are not responsible for taking care of them. They're both in great health and both sharp as tacks."

  "Good," she said. "I'm glad. So your plan is to spend the weekend deciding if you could live here."

  "Yes," I said. "Is the weather always this pleasant?"

  "Yes," she said. "Depending where in the Bay Area you live. There are portions that are always cloudy. They are easily avoided."

  "How?"

  "If you go hunting for a home, if it's cloudy, but it isn't cloudy in San Jose, then you're somewhere that's always cloudy."

  I laughed. "That's easy enough."

  "All right, Bethany. Tell me three things you absolutely refuse to tell me."

  "How can I do that?" I asked.

  "Oh, sorry," she said. "The first is this: you refuse to tell me the name of the company you are visiting on Monday. Is that correct?"

  "Oh," I said. "Yes. All right, that's one. Two. Um. I won't tell you why I'm interviewing."

  "All right," she said. "One more."

  I thought about it. "All right. I won't tell you whether anyone from my company knows I'm here."

  "All right," she said again. "That's unexpected, but all right. Now, are you interested in hearing the game I have in mind?"

  I nodded.

  "Good." She caressed my cheek again, and I found myself laying my cheek in her hand. She held me like that for a moment. "This is our game. I am going to try to convince you to tell me the things you just said you wouldn't tell me."

  "No!"

  She smiled. "Listen to the entire game before you decide. You are under no obligation to answer. You will answer any other questions I ask. I have an hour to get you to tell me those three things. If you have told them to me, then I win. If you have kept all three of them from me, then you win. You will allow me to do whatever I want to do to you, and you will obey anything I tell you to do."

  I thought about it. "No. You could tie me up and hurt me. Or order me to do something disgusting. Or dangerous."

  "Oh, no," she said. "I won't do anything like that. You will tell me your secrets because you want me to do something different to you, something more pleasant, or to continue doing something I am doing to you. You won't tell me to make me stop doing anything. Nothing like that."

  I studied her. "You could-"

  "No," she said. "I won't do anything to you that you don't like. No one will touch you but me. The worst that is going to happen is you'll become frustrated because I'm not giving you want you want. Well, if you're naughty, I'll punish you, but you aren't going to be naughty, are you? And you're not going to give up your secrets just to avoid a spanking, are you?"

  "No," I said. "I'm not telling you any secrets." I said it firmly. "All right. And what do you want if you win?"

  She smiled. "You will spend the weekend serving me. You will do anything I order you to do."

  "Um-"

  "I have a good idea what your limits are, and we'll talk more. I'm not a sadist."

  "I still should get to know the area better," I said. "Even if I don't think I
'm staying."

  "I'll show you the area myself. Are you able to tell me what part of the bay you need to get to know?"

  "Silicon Valley," I said.

  "All right, so San Jose and Mountain View area. Are we agreed?"

  "All right," I agreed. "And if I win?"

  She smiled. "Then I will still show you the area, and I will grant you a wish."

  "A wish?"

  "Yes. Any wish I am able to grant that is comparable to you giving yourself to me for an entire weekend."

  I smiled. "All right. I don't do guys. You don't loan me to anyone."

  "Of course not," she said. "So we are agreed?"

  I smiled and nodded. "All right." I looked around, suddenly nervous again. "Are you going to embarrass me?"

  "Not intentionally, but I suspect you will blush. You are quite lovely when you blush."

  I looked away then back at her. "I'm nervous."

  "I know. Last chance to change your mind."

  "Is there a safe word?"

  "If you ask me to stop, I will stop. Do not ask me to stop if you do not mean it. If you ask me to stop before the time limit is over, then we will privately discuss whether it is a forfeit."

  I nodded understanding.

  "The time starts once we're on the stage and I either touch you more intimately than needed to guide you or issue an order more complicated than where I want you."

  I nodded once more.

  She smiled broadly. "All right. What do you want me to call you?"

  I was puzzled. "My name is Bethany."

  "I thought perhaps you would prefer I call you something else on stage."

  "Is Katrina your real name?"

  She laughed. "Yes. But you perhaps would appreciate more anonymity. Tonight you are my Southern Belle. Perhaps I should call you Belle."

  "Yes," I said. "I'd like that."

  "All right, Belle," she said. "Come with me." She took my hand, and docilely I followed her to the stage, barely remembering to grab my purse.

  * * *

  We stopped at the right edge of the stage. It was dark here, but the stage itself was brightly lit. The front area of the stage in front of the curtains was bare; someone must have removed the rack Katrina had used earlier, but I hadn't noticed.

  "The rack is gone," I said.

  "Yes. I have something else in mind."

  "Promise you won't hurt me."

  "Only if you misbehave," she replied. "And then only enough to convince you not to misbehave further."