Raw Silk

by Lisabet Sarai

  Kate was silent, remembering her own barge trip with Khun Somtow.

  “I can see why you like it here, Kate. It’s fascinating.”

  “Yes,” she said, wondering if he would pick up on the irony in her voice. “You never know what to expect.”

  “And Somtow really is charming,” he continued quietly. “I can understand why you would be attracted to him.” There was a brief but awkward pause.

  “Anyway, I feel much more energetic today. How about dinner tonight?”

  Kate felt torn. She craved the familiar comfort of his casual presence, the lack of pressure or tension. On the other hand, she did feel the need to be alone, to sort out her thoughts and calm her anxieties before the coming contest.

  “I don’t think so, David. As I said, I need some space tonight, to sort things out.”

  “You know you can trust me, Kate. I won’t try to come on to you or to influence you. Let’s just have dinner, as old friends.”

  Kate was tempted. She knew he was telling the truth.

  “I don’t think it would be a good idea, David. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Whatever you say, Kate. I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.”

  Dusk was falling. Kate let herself into the garden and wandered barefoot in the grass, breathing deeply. She sat down on the bench under the miniature temple, close to the spot where she had observed Ae and Chaiwat’s tryst that first night. Since then, she had learned that this was called a spirit house. The Thais believed that when a new building was constructed, it was critical to provide a dwelling for the spirits of the land who were being displaced. Incense was smouldering now on the platform holding her spirit house. Ae had placed little bowls of rice and fruit as offerings.

  She remembered finding Ae in tears, a few days after Harrison’s punishment and flight. The girl had sat on this very bench, her head in her hands, long black locks tangled around her face. Chaiwat was gone, the maid informed her when Kate inquired as to her trouble. He had disappeared without a trace, without even saying goodbye. His landlord had told Ae that Chaiwat left in the middle of the night, owing two weeks rent. The landlord had even wanted Ae to pay.

  A new storm of tears shook the woman’s slender body. Chaiwat had promised to marry her, Ae told Kate. He came around nearly every night, after Kate was asleep, to make love to her, and to ask her questions about her mistress. He was always very curious about you, added the maid, sounding a little jealous.

  The bastard! Kate was not surprised that Chaiwat had dropped out of sight. By now, Harrison’s would-be business associates would have discovered the double-dealing, and they surely knew his driver. Clearly, Chaiwat has used Ae to keep tabs on Kate’s private life. No wonder Harrison had known so much about her relationship with Somtow.

  Kate comforted Ae as best she could. Chaiwat was a crook, she told the girl. He and his master had been plotting to steal millions of baht from their company, her company, Khun Somtow’s company. The girl perked up at this news. As Kate had surmised, Ae knew who Somtow was. The planned crimes had been discovered, and Harrison had fled the country. Chaiwat had probably gone with him.

  Ae sobbed on Kate’s shoulder. Kate had awkwardly patted her head, trying to resist the urge to caress her more intimately. Eventually, Ae had calmed herself. Kate even brought a smile to her face by promising to give her a raise in her salary in gratitude for her faithful service.

  Kate sighed. She closed her eyes and sat quietly, listening to the soft music of the fountain. Peace. She needed to centre herself, to find the truth in herself that would guide her in tomorrow’s choice.

  The doorbell chimed, waking her from her reverie. Ae had left for the day. Kate got up wearily, reentered the house, and padded over to the front door. She was too tired to speculate on who it might be.

  It was Noi. The long-limbed beauty was dressed more casually than Kate had seen her before, in a simple black shift and sandals. Silver earrings dangled to her brown, bare shoulders.

  “Good evening, Kate,” she said quietly. “I know that you were not expecting me. May I come in?”

  Kate felt clumsy and stupid, as she often did in this imposing woman’s presence. She felt Noi’s appraising gaze taking in every detail of her dishevelled appearance: her unbrushed locks, her wrinkled skirt, the bra strap peaking out from the neckline of her blouse. Noi must know, Kate thought, that she was bare underneath, that the tattered remnants of her underclothes were stuffed at the bottom of her purse.

  Kate blushed. “Of course, Noi. Please do.” She stood aside and the dominatrix slipped off her sandals and strolled into the living room. Noi took a seat on the couch. Kate remained standing, somehow unable to move without permission.

  “Sit down, Kate. Don’t be nervous. I am here as a messenger from Gregory, not on my own.”

  She paused thoughtfully, her eyes still bearing down on Kate. Kate tried to meet her gaze, and failed.

  “Gregory is very fond of you, you know. Perhaps too fond. If you were my slave,” she paused to lick her lips, “I would be more strict.” She settled back a little into the cushions. “Still, I can understand why he wants you, little Kate. Even I find you hard to resist.”

  Kate was silent. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her nipples ached. What did Noi want, she wondered. She did not dare allow herself to imagine.

  Noi reached into the black bag hanging from her shoulder. Kate half-expected her to pull out a whip or a set of nipple clamps. Instead, she retrieved a flat box covered with red velvet, which she handed to Kate.

  “In case you do not choose him, tomorrow, Gregory wants you to have this. To remember him by.”

  Kate opened the box. Inside, cradled in more velvet, lay her leather slave collar. She touched one of the studs with her fingertip, and understood the underlying message. Gregory was acknowledging that the choice was hers to make. It would be up to her to decide whether to cross the line and commit herself totally to him. If she decided otherwise, though, he would say goodbye. He was no longer willing to share her.

  “Thank you, Noi. Please tell Gregory thank you from me. And tell him that I understand. I look forward to seeing him tomorrow.”

  Noi smiled, almost kindly. “I am sure that he is full of anticipation as well.” Then she grew serious. “Do not disappoint him, Kate. I would never forgive you if you hurt him.”

  Noi turned and was gone, leaving Kate bewildered. How could she hurt Gregory? He was the master manipulator, the prince of pain. She was just his slave. Yet, despite his arrogance, she saw now that he was not sure of her. If he were, he would never have sent Noi to her with the collar.

  She fastened it around her neck and went to look in the mirror. The black leather made her flesh look pale, tender and vulnerable. She gave a little shiver. Then she noticed the sparkle of Somtow’s sapphire, hanging just below the collar in the hollow of her throat. She felt a pang, understanding that tomorrow she would choose one or the other of these ornaments.

  Kate leaned against the balcony railing, watching twilight enfold the Chao Phraya. Twinkling lights marked the long-tail boats zipping up and down the river and the barges proceeding at their more leisurely pace. The towers of a new luxury hotel stood tall on the opposite bank, silhouetted against the still-golden sky. A cool, moist river breeze caressed her bare arms and she breathed deeply, inhaling the now-familiar fragrances of tropical flowers, frying garlic, and car exhaust.

  The suite was spacious, lavish, gorgeously appointed with rare textiles and antiques. Plush oriental carpets soothed her feet. Low couches of carved teak, brocade-upholstered, invited her to recline. On a low table in the centre of the room, someone had provided a porcelain vase of orchids, an assortment of succulent-looking fruit, several bottles of wine, crystal goblets and a corkscrew. Kate sipped her chilled Pinot Grigio as she contemplated the twists that had brought her to this point in her life.

  She had always viewed herself as sober, resp
onsible, practical, one who considered the alternatives and weighed the consequences before making any decision. Yet she had come to Bangkok, half a world from home, essentially on a whim, veering wildly off the course she had plotted for her life. She had allowed herself to be seduced, used, abused, fingered, fondled, and fucked. She had plunged willingly into a sea of debauchery and depravity.

  She did not regret it, any of it. As dusk settled over the City of Angels, she knew finally that the controlled, pragmatic, sensible self she recalled was just a mask. She had found her true self here, in the embraces and the bonds of those who had possessed her.

  And now, the final act in this passion play was about to start. Kate refilled her glass and drank deep, trying to relax.

  There was a soft knock. “Come in,” she said without rising from the couch. Somtow had the key, and he had promised that they would all arrive together, to avoid any awkwardness. The door swung open soundlessly, and her three lovers filed in.

  David came first, a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye, a remarkable contrast to the weary, dishevelled young man she had met at the airport only a few days before. He wore blue jeans and a shirt of multicoloured batik that set off his rich brown hair and tanned skin. Before she could stop him, he knelt beside her and took her in his arms, his tongue probing her mouth, his hands wandering over her breasts.

  “David!” she said, laughing despite herself as she pushed him away. “That’s not fair. We’re supposed to draw lots.”

  “I can’t help myself,” he said, grinning. “After all, it has been ages since I’ve seen you.”

  Somtow entered next, elegant in a teal silk shirt and linen trousers. He too knelt beside her, opposite David. He took her hand and kissed it gracefully. Then, just as she was admiring his gallantry, he took her middle finger into his mouth and began to suck it. He ran his tongue in the sensitive groove between her fingers. The warm, wet touch sent electric sparks through her.

  “Somtow, you have no excuse,” she said. “Play by the rules.”

  Finally, Gregory entered, and stood towering over them all. Kate was interested to see that he had dressed all in white, vaguely nautical, a softly flowing shirt open at the neck and tight pants of white duck. With his jet hair pulled back from his broad forehead and a silver hoop gleaming in his earlobe, he reminded Kate of some eighteenth century pirate. His expression fit the role; his eyes blazing and his sensual lips pressed together, he look fierce, desperate, dangerous.

  His voice was as melodious and controlled as ever. “Good evening, my little Kate,” he said. He held out his hand to her, and she could not help rising to take it. Heat travelled from his fevered skin, up her arm, through her nipples, down to her sex. He didn’t make any further advances. For a long moment they simply stood together, as the flames flickered through her body.

  Somtow spoke, finally, breaking the spell. “So, here we are, Katherine, at your service, yours to command.” Gregory dropped her hand and looked at her sharply. “How can we please you, mistress?” he said, with an edge of mockery she suspected that only she could hear.

  “Have some wine, all of you,” she said. “Relax and get comfortable.” As they followed her instructions, she continued. “Thank you for coming. I’m grateful that you are all willing to indulge me.”

  “Our pleasure,” said David with a gentle smile. “And yours too, we hope.”

  An awkward silence fell over the group. They sipped their wine.

  “So, gentlemen, let’s get started.” Kate felt the alcohol coursing through her veins, making her bold. “Strip, please.” She heard a hint of authority in her voice that she liked. Her guests began to obey. She sank back into the cushions to watch them.

  Gregory worked quickly, pulling his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it. The conflagration tattooed on his flesh came alive as he unzipped his fly and peeled off his trousers. He wore nothing underneath. His cock was already half-erect. Finished long before the other two men, he stood with his legs slightly apart, his hands clasped at the small of his back, as his penis continued to harden. She smiled at him, but he merely stared at her with unnerving intensity.

  Somtow undressed as if he were dancing. In fact, Kate felt sure that he was being deliberately seductive, entertaining her with an amateur strip tease. He lingered over each shirt button, then stretched languidly as the silk slid over his skin and onto the floor. Using both hands, he slowly pulled open his zipper. He stepped gracefully out of his pants and folded them neatly. Finally he turned half-away, coquettish, as he removed his undershorts, revealing his gorgeously smooth buttocks and quivering cock.

  David’s style was simple and unselfconscious. His broad smile never left his face as he shrugged off his shirt, and pulled off his jeans and boxers. Kate ran her eyes over his bronzed, compact body, remembering the delightful feel of the curly hair on his chest and around his penis. Like the others, David was already showing his excitement.

  Kate suddenly became aware of her own arousal. She was wearing a halter-style dress of thin, floral-patterned silk. She felt dampness where the fabric bunched between her legs and circles of sensation where it brushed over her nipples.

  Her throat was bare of adornment.

  She stood proudly in front of the three naked men, and unfastened the straps tied behind her neck. The dress drifted to her feet, revealing her to their hungry eyes. The curtain rises, she thought.

  “Now,” she said, “each of you has a chance to please me. You may do whatever you like—whatever you think that I would like. I want to feel, smell, touch, and taste each of you separately.

  “I don’t know whether it is best to be the first or be the last. However, let chance decide the order.” She took a pair of ebony dice from a celadon bowl on the table and handed them to Gregory. “Whoever rolls highest, goes first.”

  Without taking his eyes from her, the tattooed man shook the cubes in his palm and threw them on the table. Each die showed a single spot. “Two,” said Gregory, almost growling. “That represents the two of us, my Kate.”

  Somtow rolled a three, David a six. “I’m first.” the young man exclaimed in delight. He took a step toward her. She held up her hand.

  “One moment.” She turned to Somtow and Marshall. “Please sit, if you’d like, be patient, and wait your turn. You are free to watch, of course.” She smiled mischievously. “I just hope that you don’t lose interest.”

  Somtow relaxed on the sofa. “I prefer to stand,” said Gregory softly. “I’ll have a better view.”

  Kate was annoyed to realise that she blushed. She turned toward her visitor from Boston and reached out to him. “David,” she said, “come to me.”

  He needed no further invitation, but was at her side at an instant. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her deeply. His familiar taste brought back warm memories of shared pleasure and simple trust. Kate returned his kiss, trying to convey all the love and gratitude she felt toward him.

  “Place your hands behind you head, Kate, and close your eyes,” said David softly. “Just let me touch you.”

  Kate followed his suggestions. She felt her breasts pushed forward as she crossed her arms at her neck. Memories flashed through her mind, unbidden: the last time that she had assumed this position, the clamps and the pain. She pushed those images away. I must concentrate, she reminded herself, focus on the one I am with.

  For a moment there was only the evening breeze stirring against her skin. Then she sensed the lightest of touches. Something like velvet brushed over the exquisitely sensitive area exposed by her upraised arms.

  The touch sent electric currents down her spine to her sex. She adjusted her stance, slightly separating her thighs.

  Barely in contact with her skin, symmetrical caresses travelled across her breasts and traced circles around her throbbing nipples. What was David using to arouse her in this way, Kate wondered? It was not his hands, she was sure, and it felt softer than any feather, though just as light.

  The
velvet left her for a brief instant, then she felt it again slowly tracing the line of her neck, along her collarbones, down into the hollow between her breasts, across her belly to her navel. She caught a whiff of sweetness, and then she understood. The orchids. The velvet of their petals left a tingling wake. Everywhere he touched her, her flesh came alive.

  Now she felt the fronds brush the insides of her thighs. She spread them a little wider as she sensed that her companion was sinking to his knees. “David,” she entreated, “kiss me.”

  The flowers continued their leisurely dance over her flesh, but now she felt a new, sharper pleasure. David gently pushed his tongue through the curly thicket hiding her sex and flicked at her swollen clit. Kate moaned and pressed herself against his mouth. Still without using his hands, he burrowed into her, lapping and probing, hungry for her womanflesh, thirsty for her juices. She buried her fingers in his wonderful hair and pulled his head deeper into her groin, urging him to consume her completely.

  David felt her urgency. He became less gentle. He used his teeth to nip at her labia, sucked her clit into his mouth and pulled on it until she screamed. “Oh, David!” Kate cried, forgetting her audience, forgetting everything except the frantic storm of sensations between her legs. “Fuck me, David. Give me your beautiful cock.”

  “Only too happy to oblige, my love,” said David, his voice muffled by her hair. “Why don’t you get down on your hands and knees?”

  Kate scrambled into position, thrusting her rear into his face. David spread her wide and gave her one last hard lick, starting at her clit and ending at her anus. Then, before she could catch her breath, he slipped inside her. Her passage was so wet with her lust and his saliva that she felt no resistance at all, just the smooth slide of his hardness and then the delight of being full of him.

  He grasped her hips and began pumping. It was so familiar, so right. Kate felt his scratchy pubic hair rubbing against her butt, smelled the muskiness of his sweat. Yes, she thought, yes, as he plunged deeper, already swelling toward climax. She could feel every motion he made, sense the blood pulsing in his flesh. She breathed in time with him, letting go of the taut, strained climb to orgasm, focusing instead on him. She loved him, she knew it within her heart and within the hot depths of her sex.