Slow Satisfaction

by Cecilia Tan

  I got to hear a lot of opinions at the party, because I was in bondage for it, suspended above the crowd. James had rigged me himself, of course, starting my preparations with a remote-controlled bullet vibe, then a spandex bodysuit, and then the flying harness. The vibrator inside me buzzed while he added ropes and a blindfold.

  The preparations took place in a room high above the main floor of the restaurant where I was hooked to a motorized track and then flown slowly over the crowd. I was comfortable, with all my limbs supported by ropes, but I guess from the reactions of the people I passed over that I made a striking image.

  James wasn’t out there, though. He stayed in the prep room, and each time I came through, he would check on me, kiss me, fondle me a little, and make the vibrator go on and off.

  “Don’t you have to go out there?” I asked, on one of my trips through the room.

  “Don’t be silly,” he said. “My public appearances are rare and fleeting.”

  “Ah, right. Of course.”

  “Ben and Pascual will each appear at moments, along with some of the band. Chandra, Alicia, and some of the others are there to actually speak about the production. But this is mostly about unveiling the cover of the album.”

  I had a sudden thought. “Am I on the cover?”

  He chuckled. “You might be.” Then there was no more time to talk as I reached the trapdoor that swung open and let the sound of the crowd wash over me. As I glided away from him, I felt the vibrator click on.

  I wondered if he meant for me to come while flying over all these people. It had been nearly an hour of the vibe going on and off and I was edging closer.

  As I passed over the crowd, though, I thought I heard a familiar voice. An unwelcome voice. A slightly nasal twang and an oily manner, that sure sounded like Phil Betancourt. I tried to see, but no matter how I moved my head there was no seeing past the blindfold, and my wiggling intensified the sensation of the vibe inside me. Then I heard people making comments about my movements so I stopped. The vibe stopped when James must have seen me squirming. Long agonizing minutes passed before I reached him again.

  “Are you here?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” he said, running a hand down my side. “Are you all right? Do you need to come down?”

  “No no, it’s not that. It’s just… I thought I heard Betancourt’s voice, schmoozing someone. I mean, maybe it’s how smarmy people sound, but can you look? Can you see?”

  “I will look once you’re out the trapdoor. From up here I can see almost everyone in the room. As you go over, listen again and see if you can figure out where he is.”

  He didn’t turn the vibrator on this time, I guess so I could concentrate on listening. Most of the voices weren’t familiar at all, and I couldn’t make out much other than the general buzz. The room seemed to have gotten more crowded, as if anticipating something. Perhaps they were waiting for the cover reveal.

  I heard the doors swing open as I sailed slowly into the prep room again. “James?”

  The doors swung shut behind me and I could hear the whirring of the motor that kept the track moving. I sensed as he stepped close to me.

  The whirring suddenly slowed and stopped. “James?”

  Someone’s hand ran along my side, but no one answered me.

  I shivered. Was he doing it to freak me out? The vibe came on suddenly and I relaxed, thinking that meant he was giving me the silent treatment but it was all another game he was playing.

  A rough hand massaged between my legs, where I was getting quite wet under the spandex. Gushing it around like that was surely creating an obvious wet stain. I moaned into the touch.

  The next thing I felt, though, was the cool fabric being pulled away from my skin, the pocket of air forming, and then I heard the unmistakable sound of scissors, snip-snip-snip.

  My pussy was now bare to the air. A finger traced the edges of my lips and I jumped. That wasn’t James. That was someone with long fingernails. “Who is that? Who’s there?”

  “Just me,” came Ferrara’s voice. The vibrator clicked off and I heard her put the controller on the ledge.

  “Ferrara, what the fuck? Where is James?”

  “I’m here to tell you the bad news, Karina. It’s all been a setup. I tried to warn you, didn’t I?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “James is about to come back in and fuck you like the little fuck toy you are. And you have a choice. You can either shut up and take it like a good girl, or you can scream and cry and protest. Either way works for me. When the video hits the Internet, you won’t be able to deny it. Everyone at this party saw you in bondage flying overhead. They’ll all know it’s real.”

  “Ferrara, don’t be stupid. You’re going to film this? This is rape. You’ll go to jail.”

  “Will I? Karina, don’t be naive. Judges and juries blame women for their own rapes simply for wearing a skirt. You’ve been displayed to everyone as a sex object. Are you going to convince the judge that you were coerced into this? Hmm, let me see. You’ve been on the payroll for months. That harness was specially fitted for you. You were even in one of the earlier rape tapes that came out. Oh, weren’t those faked? Well, obviously this is faked, too.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “I’m driven. There’s a difference. Here’s what’s going to happen. James is going to come in and fuck you now, and the entire thing is going to be on the Internet.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense!”

  “Doesn’t it? Think about it.” She flicked her nail across my clit and I tried to squeeze my legs together to no avail. “It doesn’t matter if you fight, because afterward we’re going to fly you over the audience with your ravaged cunt hanging out, just at the moment we unveil the album cover, which happens to be a painting James did of you in rope bondage. If you fight though, you’ll see I was so right about him, that that’s what he really wants. That’ll work better with the theme of the publicity videos we’ve been releasing. Haven’t they been brilliant? The whole campaign is brilliant. The whole Internet is on fire about it.”

  She was lying. She had to be. That old fear fluttered in my stomach, that maybe there was one more layer to James, one more layer of deception.

  “If you don’t fight, well, it’ll still be a good show. I love a good, hard assfucking. Especially of an anal virgin. But that’s why I think you’ll fight.”

  Was that why he kept winding me up about anal sex? Because it was all a setup for this?

  “Now, stay where you are. Don’t move.” As if I could. She laughed at her own joke as she went to open the door to let someone in from the hallway.

  I heard the shuffling of feet. It sounded like more than one person came in. One of them squeaked in distress. Becky?

  I swung in the suspension, unable to move my arms or free myself. I couldn’t even kick my legs. I felt large hands massaging my buttocks.

  “Get the camera closer,” Ferrara hissed. “Film his thing.”

  I could hear the wet, rhythmic sound of a penis being stroked. Then hands on my thighs as someone positioned themselves between my legs.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I said.

  A hard erection rubbed my thigh.

  “I’m telling you right now to stop. I didn’t consent to this.” That couldn’t be James. It couldn’t.

  Ferrara egged him on, though. “Go on, James. Her ass is ripe for the taking. Why are you going so slowly?”

  His hands pulled my buttocks apart, massaging my flesh. For a moment I felt a flicker of fear, but his touch felt unfamiliar. “You’re not my James!” I cried out. “I don’t know who you are, but this is rape!”

  I heard Becky sob.

  “Becks! Tell me who that is! That’s not him, is it?”

  “No, Karina, it’s not! I don’t know who that is!”

  I heard a scuffle then, and Ferrara’s voice. “Of course it is! You don’t know what he looks like!”

  “I do! I’ve
met him! The real him!” Becky cried. It sounded like they were wrestling. “That’s not him.”

  “Ben? Pascual? Which one of you is it?”

  I heard Pascual’s voice then. “Ferrara, this isn’t the way you said the scene was going to go.”

  “Pascual, let me go! She lied to you! Where’s James? Where’s Jasper! Get me down!”

  My heart surged with relief as I felt him working at the ropes. He couldn’t quite figure out how to get them off me, but he did figure out how to release my legs from the suspension and my feet touched the floor. He took the blindfold off next and then unhooked me from the track, which freed my arms. I still had gauntlets made of rope running up my forearms and shins, but they didn’t hinder me from moving now.

  I turned around to find Becky had Ferrara in a headlock. I guess those self-defense classes her parents made her take were good. I slipped the Gucci scarf from Becky’s shoulders and got it around Ferrara’s wrists.

  “You bitch!” she shouted. “Now who’s committing assault?”

  “Enough. I’ve had it with you and the videos and the threats to my family.” I stepped back so I could see her face and I put my back against the door. “Now we’re going to talk.”

  I noticed Pascual had put his clothes back together, at least. He was in a typical James-style suit, no tie, his jacket slung over one shoulder. He stood to one side, looking calmer than I would have expected.

  “Becky, put the camera on.”

  Becky did as I asked, but she gestured at me, as if asking if I wanted to cover up or something. I looked down. There wasn’t much to see now, with the flying rig hanging down and my legs together. Plus I didn’t care. Nudity didn’t make me weak unless I made it out to, so I ignored it.

  “Pascual, do you mind telling me what’s going on here?”

  “Honestly, Karina? I’m hoping to find out. I mean, when you take a Lord Lightning gig, you know that a whole lot of secrets come as part of the territory. I’ve been a stand-in for Jasper for years now. Hell, that first six months he was so cagey I thought he was some kind of stand-in, too.” He took a step toward Ferrara.

  “Uh-uh. Stay put. I’ll tell you what’s happening. Ferrara has been trying to blackmail him for months, claiming he married her and now she’s entitled to half his net worth.”

  Pascual looked at her curiously. “Using that video we shot?”

  “Yes. She’s claiming that’s Jasper. Or as she calls him, James.”

  “Well, he couldn’t go do it himself, so I stood in.” Pascual shrugged.

  Ferrara sobbed.

  “All right, Ferrara, spill it,” I said.

  She shook her head. “I’m not telling you anything. You have no proof. All you have is a lot of lies. It’s a house of cards. Just let me go and I’ll never bother you again.”

  “I believe that about as much as I believe your lies.” I folded my arms. “Blackmail seems to be something you understand, though. So how about this? You tell me everything that’s been going on, and then you get the hell out of our lives for good, or—” I paused to think of how to word it, but she took it as a dramatic pause.

  “Or what?” she snapped.

  “Or I’ll have you thrown out of the Crimson Glove Society for filming that ravishment scene with Vanette you showed me. You know, the one where you said she was being raped? I hear it was quite a specialty of hers.”

  “How do you…?” She stared at me.

  “I imagine the society takes very, very poorly to anyone flouting their rules. I heard stories when I was a trainee about how they ruined someone they expelled, financially and socially.”

  This time when she started to cry I think they were the first real tears I’d seen from her. She struggled to hold them in, and made an ugly snorting sound, nothing like the dramatic weeping she’d shown so many times before. “Well, it hardly matters, since I’m ruined anyway!”

  Pascual went and dabbed her nose with a handkerchief and this time I didn’t stop him.

  “What do you mean, ruined?”

  “In the divorce from Huntington. He was an imbecile, wrecked our personal finances first and then looted the company. I inherited a company on the verge of bankruptcy. And then I find out our biggest earner is going to retire? I had no choice. I won’t go back to a life of destitution! I’m too old to model now. I’ve already sold off all the property I could to try to pay off the company’s debts, but without continual income from the Lord Lightning franchise, we’re sunk.”

  “And forced marriage was the best plan you could come up with to keep him?”

  Her only answer was to cry harder. Pascual put an arm around her.

  I looked at him. “You know what? I think you’re the one who is actually legally married to her.”

  “I know,” he said, and pulled her close so that she was crying on his shoulder. “That’s what Jasper told me.”

  Ferrara’s head snapped up. “Since when are you in cahoots with him?”

  “Since he explained what you were trying to do. He knew it had to be me or Ben in the video. He took us both for a long car ride and I spilled the beans. There’s only one reason I made all those videos with you Ferrara, the marriage one, the wedding night one—”

  “Why?” She looked up through mascara-damp eyes.

  “Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you since we first met. I mean, sure, I knew you were interested in Jasper, but I had to hope that once you realized he was never going to give in, you’d realize I was waiting to take his place, once again.” He hugged her then, and reached behind her and undid the knot in the scarf, and held her while she cried. I took the scarf and handed it back to Becky, who wrapped it around my waist like a sarong.

  Someone knocked on the door. I opened it and was relieved to see James standing there. He slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.

  “Where have you been?” I demanded.

  “Catching Phil Betancourt and delivering him to the police, who want him in connection with a certain hotel camera porn scandal,” he said coolly. “I see you’ve been busy, as well.” He nodded to Pascual. “Did you get a confession out of her?”

  “Yes, I did,” I said, poking him in the ribs. “Thanks to Becky, too. She’s got it all on camera.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Becky handed him the camera, which had a small screen that stuck out from it like a wing. James took his phone from his pocket and used the headphones to plug into the sound jack. He watched, his face betraying no emotion while he did.

  When it was done he said to Pascual, “Are you still interested in the plan we talked about?”

  Pascual brightened. “Very much so. More so after hearing what she said about the company.”

  “Good. Go get into costume. Take her with you. I’ll meet you downstairs by the stage.” He ushered them out of the room. “Now, Karina, you and I need to get into costume, too. We’re going to do just the first two minutes of ‘Balladeer.’ Mandinka is waiting in the back room. Becky, you can come too, if you like, or go out and get in a good spot for the show. I really am going to want a lot of good video of this one.”

  “I’ll do that!” She checked the camera. “There’s plenty of memory left!”

  We went down a set of back stairs and then into the small private dining room that had been turned into an impromptu green room. I changed quickly into my show costume and Mandinka swooped down, surprised me by kissing me on both cheeks, and then redid my makeup.

  The stage at the far end of the restaurant was small, so instead of the whole ensemble, it was only seven of us dancing, including James, Ben, Pascual, and Roland. So each woman had a partner for while James was singing. I was used to being paired with Pascual.

  But when we took our places, it was James who paired with me. James, in no mask, no special makeup other than the standard stage makeup Mandinka had put on us. I gave him a look, but there was no time to ask what was going on. The prerecorded music began and we moved into the first step
s of one of the new songs.

  Pascual took center stage with a cordless microphone, his eyes hidden by the half-mask I had seen before in one of the videos. Cheers went up, including some very excited screams from the fangirls scattered throughout the crowd. People pressed against the small stage.

  It was only a two-minute version, so the music faded out at one point when the dancers were all on the floor and Pascual was still on his feet, holding a long note. As the music dropped away, his voice was all that could be heard, and the longer it went on, the more frenzied the cheers became. And then he ended it at last, flung off the mask, took a bow, and then retreated from the stage amid a flurry of flashbulbs. The dancers, myself included, scrambled up to follow him, but someone caught me by the hand and pulled me back.

  James led me to the mic stand, took the microphone in his hand, and cleared his throat. “If I could have your attention for a minute, please. Indulge me.”

  People began to quiet down. Someone clinked the side of their glass the way you do to get attention at banquets and weddings.

  He cleared his throat again. “I have a very important announcement to make and I may as well make it in front of you all.”

  I stood, stunned. Was he going to announce his retirement?

  “I love you, Karina,” he said. “I love you more than anything. More than dancing, more than art, more than life. So I have one question for you.”

  Before I was aware of what he was doing, he pulled a small velvet box from inside his costume. It was exactly like the one Phil Betancourt had shown me in my mother’s dining room.

  No. It was the same one. James dropped to one knee and cracked it open. The diamond shone insanely bright in the spotlight.

  “Will you marry me?”

  I don’t know how the audience heard me say “yes!” since I forgot to say it into the microphone. But the way I attacked his face with kisses was probably as good as words, and the way I bowled him over onto the stage, with my mouth locked on his, cleared up any doubt about how I felt. By the time we sat up they were chanting “Yes means yes! Yes means yes!”