Raw Silk

by Lisabet Sarai

  He shook his head. “Regretfully not. I have promised my children that I will take them to the Elephant Festival in Chonburi on Sunday. I really cannot disappoint them.”

  “Well…” Katherine began. Just then a woman approached them, stunning even in this crowd of the wealthy and beautiful. She took Somtow’s arm, and smiled at Katherine. “Hello,” she said graciously.

  Katherine was confused. Somtow looked momentarily discomfited, but quickly recovered his poise.

  “Katherine, I would like to present Nongseurat, my wife. Nong, this is Katherine O’Neill, from DigiThai.”

  The woman extended a graceful hand. “I am delighted to meet you at last, Katherine. Somtow has told me so much about you.”

  Katherine wished that she could drop through the floor. She could not bear to imagine what tales this dignified and elegant creature had heard about her.

  Meanwhile, she felt like a drab little mouse next to Nongseurat. Somtow’s wife was as lovely as he was handsome. Her gleaming black locks were piled high on her head in an intricate pattern, framing her flawless oval face. Black brows arched over almond eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Full, red lips brought a sensual touch to her otherwise cool and classic features. Her slender, curvaceous body was garbed in a tight, strapless gown of turquoise silk, shot with threads of gold. Around her neck was an exquisitely-wrought necklace of sapphires, while matching gems dangled from her earlobes. Katherine glanced down at her plain black frock, felt the tiny red-gold studs in her ears. “I—um—I’m pleased to meet you,” she said, ignoring Nong’s outstretched hand and stumbling over even the simplest pleasantries. “But I must go now. I hope that you will excuse me.”

  She turned and fled, nearly tripping on her high heels as she raced for the door. Even as she ran, she saw in her mind’s eye the puzzlement on Nong’s face, and the hurt and concern on Somtow’s.

  Katherine searched the hotel corridors until she found a door leading to the garden. She pulled it open and stepped from the air-conditioned interior into the warm, humid night.

  The air was heavy and still. The heat of the day had not fled with the darkness. The garden was empty, the hotel patrons preferring the comfort of the salons and ballrooms inside. Katherine removed her shoes and wandered barefoot and aimless along the deserted paths.

  Her feet ached. Her heart ached. Tears gathered in her eyes as she remembered the humiliating meeting with the gorgeous Mrs Rajchitraprasong.

  Somtow had told her that his wife knew about his extracurricular activities, and that Thai custom accepted and approved multiple sexual liaisons. His wit and sincerity, not to mention his consummate skill as a lover, had soothed Katherine’s scruples when his wife was an abstraction. But to come face to face with her, this was too much to bear.

  It did not help that Nong had been so friendly and pleasant, so beautiful and charming. In some ways, this was worse. If Nongseurat had been cold, sarcastic, or accusing, Katherine might have felt some slight justification for her activities with Somtow. To see her act so graciously toward Katherine, and so affectionately toward her husband, made Katherine feel lower than dirt.

  Katherine heard the unmistakable sound of falling water. She came into a clearing centred an elaborate fountain. The sculpture dominating the fountain, she recognised, was a kinnaree, a woman-swan from Thai mythology. She remembered the tale, how a man spied on the kinnaree while she bathed, stole her feathers, and refused to return them until the creature agreed to marry him.

  The bronze figure had a bird’s feet and tail, a woman’s face and breasts. The main jet of the fountain rose from between the woman’s hands, held together at chest height in the traditional wai gesture. Around the sculpture, six other jets rose and fell, pulsing in a complicated cycle.

  Katherine sat down on the edge of the fountain and put her face in her hands. She began to sob, finally releasing the pressure in her chest. She just couldn’t bear it, all the beauty and strangeness. She didn’t belong here, she was not safe here, where she was prey to decadent, polygamous princes and seductive, irresistible sadists.

  She sensed a brightening through her closed eyelids. Looking up, she saw the moon was rising, ripe and full. Katherine remembered the night of her arrival, the cold, mysterious moonlight washing the city. Had she really been here a month? How lost she had become, in these few weeks!

  A fresh storm of tears shook her. Her eyes burned. She knew that her mascara was smeared over her cheeks, that her dress was streaked with dust. Like the little tramp I am, she thought harshly.

  “Katherine.” She looked up to see Somtow approaching.

  “Leave me alone,” she said, looking down at the runs in her stockings. “You don’t need me. Go back to your beautiful wife.”

  “I do need you, Katherine. You do not understand.” He seated himself beside her on the narrow edge of the basin, and lifted her gaze to his.

  “Nongseurat is beautiful, yes, cultured, refined, loving, a wonderful mother and a jewel of a wife. But she is not like us.” He laid special emphasis on the pronoun. “To Nong, sex is at best a mildly pleasant activity, at worst a duty. She has no comprehension of the infinite variations, the wild impulses, the rich, tangled web of the erotic, which you and I know so well. Most of my ideas, my desires, I cannot even discuss with her. She would find them distasteful, or worse, silly.”

  “Katherine, I have waited so long for someone like you. Someone who combines intelligence and loveliness with a randiness that matches my own.”

  Katherine tore her gaze away. “I can’t do this, Somtow. I can’t be the other woman. Here in Thailand that might be considered acceptable or even honourable, but I am not Thai. Every time I touch you, I will be thinking about her.”

  “But she wants you to, Katherine. She is delighted that I have found someone who fulfils my needs so completely. She says that I had never been such a loving and considerate husband, before meeting you.”

  Katherine shook her head, once again feeling that she was wading through quicksand. Were her scruples silly, inappropriate? She remembered Nong’s kind smile. Perhaps Somtow was telling the truth.

  Somtow leaned close. She smelled the faint trace of sandalwood on his skin. He was breathing heavily. “Katherine,” he murmured, moving to kiss her lips.

  “No.” Katherine twisted away, still not sure that she was comfortable with this arrangement. As she moved, Somtow continued to approach her; his looming bulk threw her off balance. There was a blurry moment of confusion, then Katherine found herself tumbling backwards into the fountain.

  The water was cold, a shock to her skin. Her head went under and she came up sputtering, half-laughing and half-crying at her ludicrous position.

  “Katherine, are you all right?”

  “Of course,” she said, a little scornful. She looked down at herself. Her dress was probably ruined. Ah well, that seemed symbolically appropriate. She reached under her skirt and pulled off her knickers and stockings, which clung unpleasantly. She looked around, then threw them at the centrepiece of the fountain. They caught on the kinnaree’s tail, and dangled there. Someone will wonder, tomorrow, thought Katherine with just a hint of an inner smile.

  The cool water washed pleasantly against her bare legs. After a moment, she grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. She stood naked in the moonlight, framed by the jets of the fountain.

  Somtow stood watching her in confusion and amazement.

  “Come here,” she said, with a trace of impatience in her voice. “What are you waiting for?”

  The impetuous Thai began to climb into the basin.

  “Take your clothes off, first,” she ordered, stifling her laughter. “No reason why both of us should destroy our fancy best.”

  Somtow stripped off his jewel-toned tunic and white trousers faster than Katherine would have believed possible. In two breaths he was beside her, taking her in his arms.

  “You see, Katherine,” he murmured, nibbling at her ear lobe while his hands
roamed over her body. “We are two of a kind.”

  Katherine did not answer. She leaned her head back, savouring the silky touch of his skin against hers. Mist from the fountain settled on them, till everything was wet, inside and out. Somtow rubbed his erection against her; she grabbed it, guided it into the hungry space between her legs. Then she clamped him between her thighs, her ankles locked behind his back, and began to ride his cock.

  Her strong muscles flexed and strained as she ground herself against him. He supported her, one hand on each buttock, but allowed her to control the pace and intensity. “Ah, Somtow,” she moaned, realising that she had never known a lover so devoted to her pleasure. His body was familiar now, but no less exciting. It was not merely his lithe frame and hairless flesh, his delicate touch and exotic scent. It was the desire that burned in him, like a lamp, illuminating him from within. She almost felt the light, streaming out of her cunt as she moved on his rigid cock, stroking her way ever closer to climax.

  The water rushing around them drowned any other sound. Katherine remembered, fleetingly, how exposed they were. Any hotel guest or employee, retreating into the garden, might happen upon their mingled flesh. She did not care.

  Somtow was moaning too, as she gradually accelerated her thrusts. He grew larger, and if possible, harder inside her. Yes, thought, Katherine, he is right, this is right. How could it not be?

  Her partner began to move, in an awkward gait enforced by her legs clamped around his waist. What? she thought, then had no time to think any more. A burst of cool liquid flooded her cunt, washed over her still-loose anus. Somtow had manoeuvred her over to one of the jets, which now spurted directly up into her sex.

  She had an instant to admire his inventiveness, then the sensations took her: hot flesh, cold water, the alternating flashes and chills of orgasm singing through her. As the fountain pulsed against her, she felt an answering pulse within, as Somtow’s cock released its hot shower.

  In the fountain, in the moonlight, clenched in her lover’s arms, drenched with water and sweat, Katherine felt the world shift. Maybe this was where she belonged, she thought, this was the person she was meant to be. Maybe the Boston Katherine was a mistake, a diversion, a displacement. Perhaps she was not lost at all, but had finally found her real self.

  Chapter Seven

  Performance

  Kate arrived at work early, eager to tackle the technical problems that she knew awaited her. Complex as they were, she knew they would be less of a challenge than the riddles of her personal life.

  She checked her email immediately, half-expecting a commanding note from Gregory. She struggled against disappointment when she found only a reminder from Anchana regarding the weekly staff meeting.

  Every ring of the phone raised her expectations. But there was no word from her unpredictable master. Well, it is only Thursday, thought Kate. Still, she burned with curiousity, wondering what plans he might be laying.

  The staff meeting was routine. Kate found her attention straying to the previous evening. She recalled vividly her humiliation and despair, yet somehow the time with Somtow had washed all the hurt away. He had left her with a promise to call soon. Her cunt dampened and her nipples hardened merely at the thought of seeing him again. Then she wondered what Marshall would think, if he knew of her relationship with the Thai.

  It’s my business, not his, she thought. After all, who knows what other women he ‘entertains’ in that devilish hotel room? What would she do, though, if Marshall demanded that she break off with Somtow?

  Edward Harrison’s voice interrupted her worried reverie. “Katherine, could I speak with you for a few minutes?” The meeting was breaking up, the employees leaving the room in twos and threes. She heard Wang’s boisterous laugh, telling Roengroj some joke. In a moment she and Harrison were alone.

  “Katherine, I’m quite concerned about the security of your work on the 3D project. If there were a leak, what is to prevent someone from hacking your PC and stealing your work right from under our noses?”

  “I’m very careful, Edward. I back up my work every night, and encrypt the archive. Even if someone broke into our network, found and downloaded the files, they could not use them without the password.”

  “What if something were to happen to you, Katherine? I mean, what if you became ill? Or, heaven forbid, what if you were involved in an auto accident? You know how reckless the taxi drivers are. Does anyone else know the password?”

  Katherine was irritated, sensing that he did not trust her care and professionalism. “If you like, I will make sure that Malawee knows how to access the files, in case of an emergency. Will that make you more comfortable?”

  “Definitely.” The burly man beamed at her. “Your work is one of DigiThai’s most valuable assets. We must protect it at all costs.”

  When Kate returned to her desk, her first thought was to check her email. Then she realised something was odd. Her computer screen showed her work as it was when she was called to the meeting: various windows showing code, diagrams, video stills, documents. What should have been showing was her screen saver, a kaleidoscope of geometric patterns that she always triggered when she left her office.

  The screen saver served the dual functions of extending the life of her computer monitor, and protecting her work from prying eyes. Once started, the patterns could only be dismissed by someone who knew her password.

  Could she have forgotten, this one time? She was preoccupied, true, enmeshed in thoughts of her twisted relationships. But turning on the screen saver was practically a reflex, an automatic act that required no thought.

  Was it possible that someone had stolen her password? She knew that there were software packages that surreptitiously recorded keystrokes. Or perhaps someone had simply watched her typing.

  Edward’s paranoia is rubbing off on me, Kate thought. Of course I forgot. Is it any wonder, with everything that I have on my mind? She sat back down to work, resolving to be more careful in the future.

  Thursday and Friday were uneventful. There was no word from Marshall, no email, notes, or phone calls. Kate began to wonder if she had misunderstood him. Or perhaps he had sent her a message via some esoteric medium, which she had not recognised. Contrary emotions stormed through her: frustration, longing, relief, annoyance. Damn him, she thought, he’s doing it again, playing with my mind. Patience. He was trying to teach her patience, knowing full well what a difficult lesson it was for someone like her.

  By Saturday morning, Kate was sure that he had forgotten. Sitting out on her patio, lulled by the birdsong and sound of falling water, she was philosophical. Perhaps it was for the best. A week had passed since the shameful and delicious scene at the Montien, but she was still not sure that she could look him in the eye.

  She began to wonder if Somtow was still available that evening. How could she get a message to him without having to speak to his wife?

  Kate jumped as the telephone rang inside. She caught it on the second ring, breathing heavily, a little dizzy from standing up so quickly.

  “Good morning, Kate.”

  It was, of course, Marshall.

  “I hope that you have had a relaxing and productive week.”

  “Ah—yes.” Kate found herself tongue-tied.

  “And you are fully recovered?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good. Then I can give you your next assignment.” He spoke so softly, she could barely hear his words over the sound of her own heart was pounding in her ears.

  “Tonight, I want you to perform at The Grotto.”

  “Perform?” Kate felt a little thrill of nervousness.

  “Yes, I want you to dance, up on the stage with the other girls. I want to watch you, along with all the other horny men, as you flaunt your body and your sex.”

  “But—” Objections clamoured in Kate’s mind. She would be so obvious, a westerner among the Thais. If anyone from DigiThai heard about it, she would be ruined, professionally. What if on
e of the customers tried to buy her a drink, or take her out of the bar? Underneath all these excuses, though, Kate acknowledged the hum of excitement. She wanted to do this, despite the risks and the embarrassment.

  “Noi will arrange an appropriate disguise. No one will recognise you, Kate. You can be the anonymous, outrageous slut you have always dreamed of being.”

  Kate was silent. What could she say? Knowledge or intuition, she could not tell, but once again Gregory Marshall saw her true desires.

  “Be there around seven. I will meet you and introduce you to the girls. Then I’ll leave you in Noi’s capable hands, and just blend into the audience. But you will know I am there, watching.”

  Of course she would. Didn’t she feel his gaze even now, when he was half a city away?

  “I’ll be there,” she said simply.

  “I will look forward to it,” he replied, laughter lurking in every word. “Till tonight, my Kate.”

  Till tonight. Kate wondered how she was going to live through the daylight hours.

  She was early. She wandered through the district for while, watching the vendors setting up their tables and the girls arriving for work. She had dressed like a tourist, T-shirt, sandals and shorts. No make-up. No one gave her a second glance. That was fine. She was about to become someone else.

  By ten minutes to seven she could wait no longer. The neon sign lit up just as she pulled open the heavy door of the Grotto and began to climb the stairs.

  The bar was mostly empty. Rock and roll played in the background, but the stage was bare. The video wall was blank. The light was still tinged with red, but much brighter, Kate thought, than on her last visit. A pale, balding, heavy-set man nursed a beer in the corner, the only customer.

  She stood just inside the entry, at a loss. The customer looked up from his drink and gave her a bleary-looking smile.

  “Welcome, Kate!” She started at Gregory’s voice in her ear. He had come up behind her, silent as a cat. “Welcome to my world.” His hands were on his shoulders, and then, naturally, on her breasts, gauging the stiffness of her nipples. The customer watched, his beer halfway to his mouth. Marshall turned Kate around to face him, then bent to kiss her fiercely.