Double-Crossed

by Barbra Novac

  Here, a collection of activities played out in front of them, and they all centered on one woman who sat in the center of a large, luxurious leather lounge suite. She was very tall and very round, but not jolly at all. She was commanding and sophisticated. She had an air of royalty about her.

  The men at her feet kissed and licked her shoes, shoes spiked very thin at the toe with tall, pointed heels. Shoes obviously made for her because Marianne had never seen anything like them. They were shoes at the bottom, but filled in at the ankle to become boots, and from there they rode all the way up her thighs. Her thighs were large, round, and white, and the leather of the boots accommodated her perfectly.

  On her body, the woman wore a perfectly sculpted leather hot pants suit that molded into her curves. Long hair ran straight down her body like orange rain. Above her breasts, which bulged out of the top of her suit, she wore a glittering jeweled choker. People were talking with her, handing her food, filling her glass with wine, and generally paying as much attention to her as they possibly could.

  Marianne tried not to stare openly at her as Peter talked with a man who called himself Mr. Alex, but she found it hard as this was without any doubt the most beautiful woman Marianne had seen in her life. Round, full, voluptuous, elegant…the ultimate female archetype. She looked like the very act of creation itself.

  As if reading her mind, Peter leaned in and whispered, “It's Magenta. She's the woman who runs this place, and the most successful, sought-after Madame I've ever encountered. She has houses like this all over the world. She started in Paris, and these days she mostly attends these parties as she has no need to work anymore.” Peter paused for effect while whispering his explanations to her. “She has a remarkable talent for teasing the deepest part of a person's fetish from them, then matching them with their perfect sexual partner. People pay thousands and thousands of dollars for her services.”

  “Peter, darling!” Noticing Peter in the room for the first time, Magenta cried out to him, standing as she did and knocking over one of the men at her feet.

  Like a goddess descending from the clouds in all her haughty splendor, she walked toward Peter, staring him in the eye as she did. Her mere act of crossing the room had everyone stop in their conversation and turn to look at her.

  She walked over to Peter, and towering above him, leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Her lips still pressed to his face, her eyes traveled in the direction of Marianne. She pulled her head away slightly, moved her lips to Peter's ears, and asked her question in a heavily accented whisper that all could easily hear.

  “Who is this that you have brought?”

  Peter slightly pulled his head away and turned it toward Marianne.

  “Magenta, allow me to introduce to you Marianne Ferguson.”

  With eyes glowing like fire, Magenta extended a perfectly manicured hand toward Marianne. She looked directly into Marine's eyes, and it felt almost like she advanced into Marianne's soul. She'd never encountered a woman so sure of herself, so in control of her situation. She mesmerized. A feeling came over Marianne that wasn't lust or love but a kind of adoration, an almost instant sycophantism. Marianne felt strangely drawn to her and immediately worshipful.

  Magenta leaned in and said to her, “Don't be fooled, darling. I'm a woman, just like you.” She smiled deeply and warmly, meeting with Marianne where the wells connect. Then she stood tall again and turned, returning to her seat.

  Marianne couldn't take her eyes off Magenta. Vortex-like, commanding, the center of the small universe. Everything in the room seemed to be falling into her. The two submissive males fell at her feet again, and she went back to her deep conversation with a very elegant man who, Peter informed Marianne, was a citizen of Dubai who liked to remain anonymous, but who dealt in oil all over the world. Marianne couldn't imagine what the life of a woman like that was like.

  This, then, was a completely new world opening up for Marianne. Everything revealed itself around her, and she seemed to be traveling deeper into herself and deeper into life than she'd ever done before. A surge of peace and happiness overcame her. She turned to Peter.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said in earnest. “A woman like that makes me see what's possible, and I'm amazed by the world you've brought to me. I want this, Peter. I want to be with you, and I want this!”

  Peter's eyes radiated warmth and desire, dark, hot pools of need. He stared right into her. “I knew you'd understand. I have one more surprise for you. It won't top meeting Magenta, but I think you'll enjoy it.”

  As he held her hand again, Marianne felt that each bridged touch took her into a more complicated level of existence than she'd ever been. Every time he held her, he led her into a deeper place and introduced herself to a part of her own interior. This little world, here on this suburban street in the city of Sydney, belonged to a parallel universe. A world like no other, timeless. She felt, for the briefest of moments, immortal, as if something outside of herself were connecting her to a woman she would be in the future. Peter guided her into the back part of the room to a group of people who were standing, drinking elegantly together. This was a stylish existence. Courageous and graceful. Then Marianne stopped in her tracks. She knew one of the people there. She could pick out her right away! It was The Blue Sub!

  Peter tugged at her warmly as if he knew what she'd just realized. As they approached the group, the woman in blue turned and spotted Marianne and Peter walking toward them, and she smiled. She turned gently to the man next to her, and he nodded and motioned in Marianne's direction, and she came toward them as they approached. She glanced at Peter, and he smiled, and then she reached out and embraced Marianne.

  “I am thrilled to meet you properly, Marianne. Tonight we are playing the game, but I predict that we'll become firm and fine friends. I'm so glad to see you here.” Then she turned to Peter. “Thank you for bringing her.”

  Peter smiled at her, and Marianne turned around in amazement. “You know each other?”

  The Blue Sub moved in and took Marianne's arm as Peter walked forward and started to talk with the man who had stood next to her.

  “Our masters are friends. When you told him so beautifully of our conversations the other day, Peter knew me and hooked us up to attend Magenta's party. Not that I would have missed it for the world anyway! Isn't she divine? Have you met her?”

  “Oh, yes! I think I almost fell in love!”

  “Did she introduce herself to you?”

  “Yes! She stood up and came over to us!”

  “Then you'll probably get some time with her at some point. She's a genius. She can liberate a woman in thirty minutes. She's a potent and direct feminist, and she'll give you as much of herself as she thinks you can handle.”

  “This feels like a strange, contradictory world,” said Marianne. “One minute I'm in complete submission to a man, and the next, I feel more forceful and strong than I've ever been.”

  “That's because Peter prefers you more free than contained. He's like my master. They ache for the freedom of women. They know that it's the key to their own liberation. They don't fear it. What we do here is a game. Eventually you'll see that this is the place to role play all the submissive feelings that have been conditioned into you, and you won't have them control you subconsciously in life. Then Peter will have the mate he desires, and you'll have the best freedom you can hope for in this life. Magenta appeals to you because she has evolved past those conditions. No man will ever dominate her. Not in a game, nor in life. She's untouchable.”

  “I am not so sure that all that can be found in a sex game,” said Marianne, uncertain.

  “That's because it's not just a sex game. But, come on now. This isn't the time for this conversation. Isn't it wonderful that we get to meet? I've known Peter for a while, and for me, it was very exciting to learn that you were with him.”

  A sudden pang of jealousy hit Marianne unexpectedly. “Have you and Peter, er…been together?”


  She smiled in a knowing way. “Now, now, you have no business being jealous of Peter's past. You have a past too, after all. However, no, there's never been anything between Peter and me. Peter rarely plays. He brings women, and he gets them to play. In answer to that question, yes, I've played with a number of Peter's dates. You should know my name. I'm Suzanne.”

  Marianne felt a flood of relief surge through her and scolded herself for being so jealous. Suzanne was right. She had no business being jealous of Peter about a time before she'd met him.

  At this point, the two women joined the other members of the group, and Peter introduced her to John, Suzanne's master. Marianne liked him right away and enjoyed watching the easy banter between the two men. Marianne learned that Peter and John had been friends for years. John spoke to her at one point and told her how special she must be to have so captured Peter.

  “He's been looking for you for as long as I've known him.”

  Marianne smiled self-consciously and again wondered that he could be so sure about her in such a short period.

  They spoke socially for a while, Suzanne openly flirting with her. The excitement of being attractive to a woman intoxicated, but at the same time, Marianne wasn't sure how Peter would react to it. Suzanne looked gorgeous, and tonight she wore a shimmering silvery blue corset with tight, silvery blue PVC pants beneath it. She looked stunning with high heels on and her long, blonde hair flowing over her naked shoulders.

  Marianne felt as virginal as intended in her beautiful white. She'd received approving looks all evening, but she couldn't help feeling the inexperience she wore in her clothes. Marianne felt provincial, and wanted the sophistication she saw in those around her.

  She started to flirt back with Suzanne, in subtle ways so as not to embarrass Peter. When Suzanne stared suggestively at her, she connected fully with the gaze and held it. This sent waves of delight directly to her pussy. She felt herself growing wet again.

  Soon Peter noticed and smiled at her. Then, as if to directly humiliate her, he said aloud to John, “I've noticed our playthings want to play with each other, my friend. How would you feel if I told your Suzanne to kiss my Marianne?”

  “Fine by me. I'd like to see it myself.”

  Then Peter turned to Suzanne.

  “Suzanne, you've misbehaved by flirting with my new submissive without asking me or your master. I think the decision about a punishment needs to come from him. Because you have aroused my interest, I want you to kiss Marianne now, and I invite the rest of the group to watch.”

  With a smile on her face, she looked like the Cheshire Cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Suzanne walked over to Marianne. She whispered, “Are you ready?” and Marianne nodded.

  Then Suzanne placed her hands on Marianne's shoulders. The women were the same height, so when Suzanne stepped close to Marianne, Marianne could feel Suzanne's breasts against her own. Suzanne leaned in, and Marianne moved toward her. Suzanne brushed her lips very gently across Marianne's, and Marianne felt the first tingle in her pussy caused by a kiss from a woman.

  Then Suzanne got a little more insistent. Her next kiss was firmer, and she parted her lips and softly swept her tongue around Marianne's lips. Marianne met the warm tongue, connected with her own, and soon the women were in a full embrace. Marianne thrilled to the feel of a lipsticked mouth on hers and the way that her pussy lurched, knowing a woman kissed her. She had broken a big taboo.

  When Suzanne pulled away, Peter stepped up to Marianne and put his hand between her legs.

  “Mmm…so wet, my little one! I think we may get you to do that again some time!”

  There was a small amount of applause from the small group, as everyone seemed to know that this was Marianne's first attempt at public play. Glancing toward Suzanne, Marianne let her eyes linger on Suzanne's for just a minute. Suzanne, clearly turned on, stared hard at Marianne. Behind her, John had his hand between her legs. Her eyes told Marianne she languished in the throes of deep passion.

  Suddenly, Marianne felt very tired. Feeling Peter's eyes on her, she turned toward him, hoping he'd notice her fatigue. Straightaway, he announced, “We need to go, folks. We both have obligations tomorrow, and we should be off. But, and I speak on behalf of Marianne here, we'll both be back for other nights.”

  Then Marianne drowned in a sea of good-byes and thank yous and kisses on her cheeks and hand shakings. Suzanne, unable to move from where John was pushing fingers into her, smiled and blew Marianne a kiss. At the end of everything, these people were her new friends.

  Peter led Marianne by the hand again, and they walked up to Magenta. Peter took her hand, kissed it, and thanked her for the wonderful party. She smiled back and said she always loved to see Peter and that she hoped to see a lot more of Marianne in the future. She gave Marianne a wink, told her she looked beautiful and that Peter was the best dresser she'd ever known.

  Marianne smiled, Peter took her arm, and they headed back into the corridor again, where they were met by the girl in the red shorts with their coats.

  Peter placed her coat over her shoulders, and with a “Bye, Kimberly” to the frozen woman, they were out in the small domestic street like any other lovers getting to their car in the heat of a Sydney night. Only the watchful eyes of a human mannequin gave any indication of what went on behind the door of that house.

  In the car, Peter explained to Marianne that he wasn't coming in tonight.

  “I hope you understand, cherie, but tonight you need your sleep. I know I told you I'd make you come, but I'm worried about the time now. Do you realize how late it is? You need your rest.”

  Marianne suddenly felt very tired, and it must have shown on her face.

  “That's right. Plus, you've been through a lot this week. This party won't come up again for twelve months, so I wanted to take you tonight, so you could have the full feel of it, but we both need to get rest now. I'm going to kiss you good night in a very chaste fashion at the front door.”

  Marianne could only agree. Exhaustion set in by now. She ached for her bed.

  When they got to her apartment building, Peter walked her upstairs, and true to his word, he waited until she opened the door, then walked in behind her when she turned on the lights.

  “I was very proud to be with you tonight, Marianne. You're my perfect partner, and I love that I can start right at the beginning with you like this. I'm very happy about what's going on between us. Go to sleep now, my love, and I will call you first thing in the morning. Good night.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, and then in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

  Marianne leaned against the door that had shut him out into the night. Her mind blurred, and she could hardly think. She only wanted bed. I can digest all of this tomorrow, she thought. Right now, I need sleep.

  Just at that moment, she heard a knock at the door.

  Peter back again! Maybe he is going to stay after all.

  Marianne opened the door with a grin on her face, forgetting to check through the peephole, to find herself staring into the pale, fluid face of the doctor. She instinctively drew her coat closer around her body to hide her outfit.

  “Marianne, I don't mean to disturb you this late in the night, but as a doctor, I am very concerned that you are out this late. Do you even remember you had a terrible accident earlier this week?”

  Marianne felt so tired, but not too tired to see how inappropriate this was.

  “Doctor, please. It's very late, and I'm uncomfortable about you being on my doorstep at this time of the night. Have you been watching for me at your door?”

  In the pause that followed, Marianne could swear she saw his thin lips tighten.

  “Of course not,” he said evenly, with that touch of sarcasm she had come to know. “Your door activity woke me up.”

  Marianne felt foolish again. He had a way of making her feel stupid every time she spoke.

  “God! I must be exhausted. I'm so sorry. But I really do need to get so
me sleep.”

  “I'm assuming Peter has no idea that you were hit. Otherwise a man who really cared about you would never have you out this late. I'm also assuming you didn't do anything too mentally taxing?”

  Marianne stared hard at him. Did he actually know these things, or did he have an intuitive knack of knowing what to say to throw her off balance?

  “Um, I feel fine, except I have to get some sleep.”

  The doctor let out a brief, frustrated sigh.

  “I will leave you to get some sleep, and I'll try to go back and get some myself. I'll be here in the morning. Not too early. Let's say ten. I want you to rest, and then I'll give you an examination tomorrow. In addition, please, do nothing else tonight. Get straight to bed.”

  With that, he'd left, and she was alone again in the heat of the night with nothing but the endless thoughts of the evening's events whirring about in her head.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That night, Marianne dreamt strange dreams. She loved the night at Salon Kitties and everything that happened to her right up until the doctor had put fear into her heart.

  Was he right? Why did Peter take her to something like that when she'd been so badly hurt that week?

  Her head filled with conflicting voices. Part of her said not to worry, that Peter loved her and had watched her very carefully all night. He looked after her and promised she would always be safe. Another part of her asked why wasn't he doing everything he could to get Don for what he did to her? God, she hadn't even filed a police report.

  She had dreams of people floating around her, telling her different things. The doctor's face, and then Peter's flew at her and away again. They drifted around in the air, both men smiling and caring for her. Soon other faces crashed through these two as if they were sheets of glass. The face of Joe coming to the fore, then suddenly disappearing, replaced by Don's fist belting into the side of her head again.