Seoul Spankings

by Anastasia Vitsky

“I…thank you for showing me your country tonight, but I’d like to get some rest before my flight tomorrow.” She refused to look at me, crumpling the edge of her sash.

  My heart sank. “You didn’t have any dinner. Let’s get something besides seafood. You’ll like….”

  She gave an abrupt shake of her head. “Thank you, but no. Please take me back.”

  If I knew her better, I could persuade her to tell me the problem. If she were my employee, I could reassure her with food, alcohol, or plenty of both. I stared at this girl from another land, wondering where we went wrong. At last, I asked with as much gentleness as I knew how. “Are you sure?”

  She dried her eyes and stood taller. “Yes. Please. Thank you for taking me to the concert.”

  I could force her, if I wished. I could tell my driver to take us anyway. But I looked down at her tearstained face. “All right.”

  ***

  “Fresh samgyopsal! The best! The sesame leaves aren’t absolutely perfect, but they are fresh, too. We couldn’t get a net canopy, but we got some netting instead. Minhee-ssi found a big flashlight we can attach to a pole and use for a floodlight. She also brought a change of clothes for each of you.”

  Thankfully, Minhee delivered her report in Korean. She kept flicking her gaze toward Indigo and pretending not to.

  “That’s all right. We won’t need them, after all.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s take Indigo-ssi home.”

  Indigo looked up at her name, but I gave thanks she couldn’t understand.

  “What’s wrong?” Minhee fluttered with anxiety.

  Miss Cha could have handled the situation better, but she had stayed at home to prepare for our evening together. I laughed to myself. What evening? Then, inspiration struck. I might not have been able to coax Indigo to talk to me, but underlings had their uses. Giving thanks again for the language barrier, I explained the situation to Minhee. “I don’t know why Indigo-ssi is upset. Please take her to the foyer and try to find out, and I’ll let Miss Cha know we are coming home early.”

  “But my English….”

  “Just do it.” I walked away before Minhee could stop me. I needed to cool down, and I needed to do it away from this impossible enigma. Faced with someone I could neither understand nor command, I paced the hallway. I’d meant to investigate the new wing of the Arts Center, after all.

  “Wait, please!” Minhee’s alarmed voice carried through the echoing halls. “Miss Indi Go would like to accompany you.”

  I shrugged and waited for Indigo to follow.

  “I told her she would like to see the light fountain,” Minhee explained, and I could have kissed her. Of course. I should have thought of it myself.

  “Don’t cancel the picnic yet,” I said in Korean over my shoulder as I took Indigo’s hand. “Come with me. You’ll want to see this.”

  Surprised but obedient, Indigo followed me out the door and through the courtyard. Already the long, narrow water fountain danced in time with a Wagner overture. The multi-colored lights sparkled as the gathering crowd oohed and aahed. Little children ran up to the fountain, dancing and shrieking with excitement when the water hit them unexpectedly. Mothers parked their strollers, and young couples leaned arm in arm.

  “Oh!” Indigo’s eyes widened as she took in the display.

  Bemused, I watched her gasp as the water climbed higher and higher, only to collapse in a glorious crash of chords. Traditional symphony not your fare? Try a little water and light in the outdoors. She shivered, and I put an arm around her. She pushed away, nicely but firmly.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “You don’t have to pretend I’m your newest girlfriend or business partner. I won’t embarrass you.”

  Her words, echoing mine to Leila and Miss Cha, stung my conscience. “Okay,” I said. “I deserved that. One word of gossip gets out, and—”

  “What gossip?” She stared at me. “You bring me over for a job interview, and your people dress me up like Cinderella, and….”

  It was my turn to stare. “A job interview?”

  She blushed. “Forget it.”

  “You thought you were coming here to interview for a job?”

  She hunched her shoulders. “I’m stupid, okay? I get it. I said forget it.”

  Stammering, I tried to find words to correct the misunderstanding. “Indigo,” I murmured. I took her hand in mine. “I’m not looking for an employee; I’m looking for a wife.” Madame Eve-nim promised one night, but my research showed her clients often spoke of receiving so much more. Marriage. A perfect mate.

  Chapter Seven

  A wife. Hyunkyung’s words rang in my ears, and my head spun with conflicting reactions.

  She likes me. She really likes me.

  What am I, some modern-day picture bride?

  Maybe it meant something to her, too, when we talked at dinner. I knew it wasn’t just a business conversation!

  Wife? In this a backward country? What kind of barbaric rituals do they have? Will I have to eat dog?

  Indi, she’s rich. She could be your sugar mama.

  At the crassness of the last thought, I recoiled. I might not know Hyunkyung well yet, but I liked what I did know. Whatever I liked about her, it could not be money. The ice princess had surprising depth and tenderness.

  The fountain display shuddered to an end, and the children around us groaned. Parents packed up strollers and backpacks, and whining rose from kids who had been content three seconds earlier. It surprised me, the universal tone of whining. Without understanding a word, I could feel the nagging petulance of children and the weary, long-suffering replies from parents who had already yielded in many ways.

  The kids should be in bed by now. It was easier than facing Hyunkyung’s answer.

  “Indigo-ssi? Does that upset you?”

  “No,” I lied. You idiot. She said she was looking for a wife, not you as a wife. She might mean someone different.

  “Indigo,” she said, taking my arm. “I’m not proposing.”

  “I know.” My voice came out louder than I’d intended. “I’ll go home tomorrow, and you can find your wife.”

  “Tomorrow….” She colored. “Excuse me, I shouldn’t have been so hasty. You don’t have to go back so soon. If you don’t want to.”

  “But I do.” I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t get into nebulous territory. Already I’d been yanked around more times than I wanted to admit. I, who had considered myself too civilized for a backward third-world country, found myself wanting to stand on equal ground with this aristocrat. “I’d like to go home.”

  The white collar set off her petite collarbones, drawing attention from the sleek, black bodice and regal carriage. In the shadows of the bright lights against the night darkness, her figure slumped. I wanted her to argue with me, but I didn’t know what that would mean.

  “At least, you must eat.” Satisfied with her decision, she nodded for Minhee to precede us.

  The two exchanged rat-a-tat Korean before Minhee pulled out her phone and seemed to convey Hyunkyung’s instructions. Standing in the darkness, all at once a wave of homesickness washed over me. Maybe it was jet lag or fatigue or the newness catching up with me, but I wished I could crawl into my bed at home. I sighed. I’d broken down my bed and donated it to the local thrift shop.

  “Come in,” Hyunkyung said, seating herself in the limousine. Minhee reclined the seats almost horizontal and covered us with pink blankets decorated with rows of flowers and edged with pink piping. They gave me a fluffy soft and exquisitely warm hug, bringing instant drowsiness. “Sleep now, and you will feel better when we arrive.”

  I wondered why we should sleep when the trip to the concert had taken half an hour, but I accepted the creature comforts with pleasure. I fell asleep before Hyunkyung’s driver pulled out of the driveway. I dreamed of fields full of pink flowers.

  ***

  “Indigo,” a voice insisted, interrupting my frolic in the fields. I cracked an eye
open to see Minhee turning the handle on the car door. Her sleek suit contrasted with the tumble of weeds, dried grass, and gravel road, and Hyunkyung stirred beside me. Her chauffeur turned off the car’s ignition, and Minhee took out a picnic tote bag, a tinfoil-lined seating mat, and a boxed cake. I stared at her, stupid with confusion. Wildly, the worst fear came to mind.

  She’s going to abduct, rape, and sell me into sexual slavery under an assumed name. I’ll never be found alive.

  When I got home, I would stop watching far-fetched cop shows.

  “What?” I asked, unable to make the adjustment from posh concert hall to dilapidated countryside.

  Greg, I thought, against my will. With a jerk of mental effort, I added, Go to hell. Already, her efficient assistants had set up a small grill, netting, and an enormous flashlight to illuminate our efforts. Or, rather, their efforts. The crackle of cooking meat gave a tang to the fresh, unpolluted air. As Minhee set up tiny dishes of various green and red colored vegetables, Hyunkyung used long wooden chopsticks to turn the pieces of meat. As they cooked, she snipped them into perfect rectangles with a red-handled pair of kitchen shears. My stomach rumbled, despite the ominous pile of kimchi sizzling next to the more innocuous meat. Spicy spoiled cabbage. Hyunkyung placed some translucent teardrop shaped pieces on the grill. Garlic cut into slices, most likely, but I had never seen it grilled this way before. Most of my garlic came powdered in a plastic spice container.

  “Come,” she repeated. She stepped out of her shoes and sat cross-legged on the bamboo mat, a place for me at her side. Minhee and her driver took their cue and melted into the darkness. Perhaps they returned to the car to continue their nap. I, on the other hand, tingled with alertness.

  “Okay,” I answered. Before I could sit down, she offered me a bite-size piece of meat from her chopsticks.

  “Taste it,” she commanded me. “You’ll like it.”

  I opened my mouth like a baby bird, and she deposited the burn-inflicting meat. “Ack! Ooh! Ouch!” I grabbed at a bottle of water and doused my mouth with coolness. “Ow!”

  “Really, Indi,” she said with amusement. “Is your tongue that sensitive? Come here.”

  Slightly afraid of what she might do, I edged closer to her. She picked up a new cooking chopstick and rapped the end against my buttocks. I stared at her, unable to comprehend her actions.

  “Taste,” she ordered.

  This time, I accepted the meat between my teeth and blew on it before chewing. Crispy, juicy, flavorful goodness. My stomach rumbled, and she laughed as she picked up the clean chopstick.

  “Oh, no.” I backed away. I liked her feeding me, but I didn’t like the weird games.

  Ignoring my protest, she set the chopstick down. I breathed a sigh of relief, but too soon. She reached around and pulled my sash to the side, applying a crisp smack to my bottom. I gaped at her, only to be fed another piece of meat. I wanted to protest, but the pork filled my mouth and belly with a new and wonderful sensation. Hyunkyung picked up a string of the nasty cabbage, and at that I drew the line.

  “No, thank you.” I turned my face away and squealed when she pulled me next to her. I breathed in her scented hair products, close enough to reach out and caress the velvety neck. I had to clench my hands tight in order not to touch, and she caught me by surprise with another clap across my buttocks.

  “Ah,” she said, and she cupped her left hand underneath the piece of kimchi wrapped around a bit of meat.

  Ah must be a command to open my mouth. How else could she use that order? Stop it, Indi!

  I wrinkled my nose but obeyed, and she placed the salty-sour package onto my tongue. I expected to wince at the sharp, acidic spice, but grilling had softened the kimchi into pleasant warmth. Paired with fresh meat, it offered the perfect combination. Without thinking, I swallowed and opened my mouth for another taste.

  Hyunkyung laughed when she saw it. “No more turning your nose up at good food,” she said with satisfaction.

  Spank.

  Yum.

  Swat.

  Delicious.

  Mesmerized, I watched her wrap a piece of red leaf lettuce around a bundle of grilled meat, kimchi, and a slice of garlic. She slapped the back of my dress, and I couldn’t taste my prize fast enough. The garlic stung my taste buds, but the lettuce added a soothing moisture to the salt and spice. I licked my lips, cheeks bulging.

  Hyunkyung fed herself, watching me with evident pleasure. I jiggled my leg in impatience, reaching for the extra pair of chopsticks. She swatted the back of my hand. I should have been outraged, but instead I laughed. I scooted next to her, and she put her arm around me.

  “I was born here,” she said, looking out at the countryside. “Halmoni insisted her first grandchild should be born in the Cheongju countryside where our ancestors lived, instead of the pollution of Seoul. My mother had to travel, nine and a half months pregnant, miserable, and angry.”

  “Nine and a half?” I must have heard wrong.

  Hyunkyung nodded. “Ten months, we say for a pregnancy. Not nine months like Americans. I came into this world a country girl, as Halmoni wished. Down that way is a stream where she taught me to catch fish. We won’t find any now, but I used to come here every once in a while.”

  “Let’s go.” I jumped to my feet. “I want to see you catch the fish.”

  For the first time, Hyunkyung looked nonplussed. It was a nice change from her self-composure in every area. “The stream is much smaller now,” she demurred. “We’ll have to take the flashlight with us, and that will scare the fish away.”

  But she led me toward the stream, and I followed with the flashlight tied to a stake. When we got to the stream, she motioned for me to secure the light. Still shoeless, she stepped into the water while crouching and holding her hands together. I held back, afraid to disturb her. What we would do if she actually caught a fish, I had no idea. I didn’t eat fish or like it, but I had a feeling Hyunkyung would enjoy teaching me otherwise.

  She waded through the water, gliding as if she were part water creature. “Shh,” she mouthed, but I hadn’t made a sound. She dipped her hands in the water, walking them across the sand on the bottom. It was too dark for me to see any fish, and I didn’t want to walk closer and startle any she might have found. I waited next to the flashlight, holding my breath.

  Hyunkyung laughed, holding up a fish so small it must have been a minnow or its Korean equivalent. “Got it!” She held it aloft, cupping the wriggling baby in a double handful of water.

  “Poor thing!” I couldn’t help pitying the desperate fish. At the same time, I was relieved we wouldn’t have to filet and roast it on the grill. Hyunkyung in her pantsuit back at the office building might not have done it, but this happy-in-nature Hyunkyung looked capable of anything. “Let it go home to its mama.”

  For a split second, Hyunkyung’s frown made me think of a six-year-old denied a cookie. Then she lowered her hands and released the terrified fish back to its wild. I stepped into the stream, shivering with cold. Hyunkyung was tougher than she looked.

  In a flash, she propped one bare foot on a rock and pushed me over her knee, and I straddled her leg in the most arousing position possible. I yelped but gave only a token fight. She raised my skirt, and I shivered once more but not from the cool night air.

  “You are not impressed with my talents?” She hiked my dress up and wrapped it around her left wrist, sliding a cool hand over the nylons Miss Cha had chosen with such care.

  “Let me go!” I gurgled with laughter, my stomach spinning with something crazy and wonderful. “If that’s what you call a fish, no wonder everyone thinks American stuff is big. We like to see our fish without a microscope.”

  “Ah,” she purred, delight mingling with pretend sorrow. “Honor in Korea is a sacred thing, you know. I will have to teach you a lesson.”

  I danced with impatience, primed from her earlier lessons with the meat. This time, I didn’t need any incentive to accept the swats cracking li
ke slightly soggy gunshots. I hoped I wasn’t blushing. “What if someone hears?”

  “Hears? I don’t think you should worry about hearing. What if someone sees?”

  Hyunkyung split the borrowed hosiery at the seams, working deft fingers into panties now drenched with desire. She grabbed and squeezed, kneading my virgin flesh and slapping as if to tenderize. Hungry for a taste too slow in coming, I rocked back and forth on her thigh, willing her to satisfy me.

  She spanked, slowly at first and building into a controlled burst of energy. My heart raced as I crossed my legs in the effort not to climax in her lap. Then, just as I could not bear one more second, she cupped my chin and lowered her mouth toward mine. Gently, at first, exploring the meeting of our lips for the first time. The smoky taste of grilled meat lingered on her lips, and I dared to anchor my fingers in her hair and draw her toward me.

  And then a voice called out in the darkness, the way God’s voice must have called out to Adam and Eve after they discovered nakedness.

  “Ee Sajangnim? I smelled something burning, and I worried when I saw the unattended grill. Are you all right?”

  Chapter Eight

  Indigo bolted from my touch, throwing her skirt down and soaking the hem. I couldn’t make out whether her face showed shame, but my own cheeks burned. Like a wayward schoolgirl, I followed the voice back to the picnic site.

  “It’s late,” I apologized. “We should go home.”

  Minhee bit her lip. “Of course, Ee Sajangnim.” She tutted at Indigo’s torn stockings and wet skirt, but she avoided asking unwanted questions. Minhee might not have been Miss Cha, but she was a serviceable substitute. “Here’s a dress for you to change into,” she said, holding out a yellow chiffon creation perfect for Indigo. The butter-yellow full skirt and draped gathers around the neckline were an inspired choice for Indigo’s pink complexion. I pretended to look the other way as she changed into the new dress. The layers of skirt floated in a graceful shimmer, and it hurt to restrain myself from touching her.