The Scarlet Cord

by Eliza Master

  Dinner arrived. The spanakopita was warm, filled with rich, dark greens, and the pita was thin and tender. The thick baba ganoush and hummus filled her as well any hamburger would but without the heaviness. Renata set out a ginger candle and dimmed the light just for herself. Undisturbed, she ate with a single-minded hunger, like a jaguar over a kill.

  After dinner, Renata practiced shibari. The weight of the seven-meter rope felt comforting in her hands. Normally the rope lived in the bottom-most kitchen drawer, under the dishtowels. Pulling off her blouse and dress pants, she stripped to her bra and panties. Renata draped the rope around her neck and made one double cord down her middle. She tied three knots, the first a pendant and the next two about six inches down, falling at rib line and navel. Then she stood and brought both ends between her legs, up her back, and under the rope necklace beneath her hairline. A few pieces of hair were hijacked but quickly recovered. This was the karada knot, one of the knots she’d learned in Japan.

  In Tokyo, her shibari workshop had comprised self-tying and demonstrations only — no participation. The instructor had been good but austere. His knots were precise and elegant, but he never smiled, and he kept the students at a formal distance.

  Because her sensei only spoke Japanese, Renata took in the class much like a silent film. She always chose a front seat and took notes on a small pad. The attendees were conservative Japanese middle-aged men and women, the same type of people that she saw in the grocery stores around town. The students never interacted with one another, and no questions were asked. It was like sitting in a movie theater. Even those who arrived together would sit in respectful silence. It was strange and very unlike the American education that insisted on participation. Still, she had learned a lot, and appreciated the privacy.

  Renata reached back and held each rope end in one hand. She pulled them gently under her armpits, above her breasts and bra cups. Each strand looped under one strand of the double rope between rib and pendant, pulling them apart. The cord formed a comfortable diamond, containing each bra cup nicely. The rope was taut but not tight, and Renata felt sexy and calm. A soothing geometric pattern was evolving. Her body relaxed. She envisioned all her worries and worked them into beautiful knots that she could untie, just like the shibari.

  Renata wished she had removed her bra and panties before starting the karada. She felt the soft fabric bunching, but she mostly missed the feel of the rope against her bare skin. She wandered over to the windows and pulled all the shades down. Next, she looped the rope back under her arms, still above the breasts, and mirrored the diamond in front. She tucked each end around one of the double ropes in back and pulled them around again. A lovely crosshatch divided her back into triangles, like a symmetrical tangram.

  Light thoughts breezed through her mind as she tied herself. Images of the spanakopita, Japan, her office, and Erik in bed coursed through her mind. She repeated the same tie, creating a third diamond. This one perfectly lay between her breasts and navel. The rope length was used up, so Renata tied the last bit into a flat knot with the ends dangling. They hung in front of her soft mound, covered by the triangle of her satin thong. She fantasized that each knot was a chakra. Her sensuous energy traveled down to the loose end of the rope as it swayed against her, arousing her. Renata’s thoughts turned back to Erik and his long manhood. She smiled and put a finger between her legs. Just a little pressure down there was what she wanted.

  The intercom buzzed. Who could that be?

  Renata went to the doorway and held down the button. “Yes?”

  “It’s Kenny.”

  That’s weird, she thought. Why wouldn’t he have texted her first? They had a business relationship, after all. Even though they had spent time together in Africa, she didn’t consider him a personal friend. Renata threw on her blouse on top of the shibari.

  “What’s up?” She asked through the intercom. She was annoyed. Her zen was totally out the window. Now the pants were on too.

  “Hey, sorry. I have something for you. I was gonna call, but I was driving by.”

  “Ok, I’ll buzz you up,” she said without enthusiasm. She really didn’t have a choice; the man was downstairs, and he knew she was home. Glancing in the mirror, Renata could see the lines of the shibari under her blouse, but the pants hid the lower portion. She threw on her black hoody to cover the knots and diamonds on her torso. Much of the karada had settled into hidden crevices, like the one between her legs.

  Kenny seated himself at her table, looking around the room awkwardly. His eyes grazed over the mostly eaten feast left on her plate.

  “Nice place.”

  “Would you like some coffee or a beer?” She remembered the delicious African coffee in Yakadouma.

  “Uh, sure, beer would be great,” replied Kenny. Renata opened two bottles and set them on the table after clearing her plate. She swigged the beer. The bottles formed small, wet rings on the wood table. She was definitely unwinding, despite the company.

  “So? What’s up, Kenny? How ya been?” she asked. Kenny seemed awkward. Renata noticed he wasn’t in his standard gear. “Been working a lot?” This was the only time she’d seen him not working. She hoped he wasn’t trying to date her. She straightened against the back of the dining chair, and the shibari slipped further into her cleft. Kenny was nice-looking in some ways, but too uptight. He might need to be her bodyguard again, too, and getting personal would be a bad plan.

  “You know, same old thing. I’m still working for Fitz mostly.” He tightened his lips and went on. “I’m between assignments at the moment, so I’m taking the time to get back into shape. You know how it is.” He looked Renata up and down like he could see through her clothing. His biceps pushed against his shirtsleeves. “I brought you something.” Kenny thrust a small case in a plastic bag her way. It slid across the table, dragging to a quick stop. A white thread held a tag that read, “Charcoal Black TWAW.”

  Renata unwrapped the gift. It was a gun holster.

  “Thank you.” Renata turned the case over in her hands. It was petite and classy. She scratched the surface lightly with her fingernail, feeling for the metal strands that were usually in bulletproof material. It felt solid. Renata liked the style of the holster, and it was small enough for to be concealed.

  “It’s for your Taurus. You might be able to use it for the Pitbull, too,” Kenny said.

  “Nice. I like it. Really, thank you,” Renata said hesitantly. It was a thoughtful gift, but she wondered why he was giving it to her. Did he want something in return? She stood up and clipped the empty holster inside her pants, careful to keep her shibari hidden from him. With the holster, she could carry her gun without bringing a purse. Her weapon would be easy to grab if needed. The holster was comfortable, but it created a small bulge at her waist. She pulled the hoody down to cover it completely.

  “Wanna try it with your gun and see if it fits?” Kenny asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll get it.” Under her bed was a fingerprint lock box in which Renata kept both firearms. She hadn’t used them lately. Upon bending down to retrieve the box, the karada shibari sank deeper into her camel toe. Renata shivered as her pussy said hello. She reached into her panties and swiped the rope into her left thigh leg crease so she could squat to open the gun safe. Against her bare skin, her finger felt moist and cool from holding the beer bottle. She had to wipe it dry and press it onto the keypad three times before she heard the click and the lid snapped open. She wondered if she could conceal her gun in her beautiful bulletproof dress. It was unlikely as the dress was form-fitting. The Pitbull company probably made custom holsters, though; she’d check later.

  At the table, Kenny’s eyes darted quickly around Renata’s living room, under and around her furniture. Finally, they rested on the vintage crown molding that framed the room in a beige rectangle. Without a sound, he placed the device, and the tiny microphone bug held stable on the horizontal surface of the molding. Kenny tipped it toward the ceiling so it was out of vie
w. Three more steps and he was back in his seat like nothing happened. Kenny slouched forward to project his awkward, boy crush performance.

  He thought about the gun he had given Renata and now the holster to go with it. Tim, Fitzer’s man, had paid for the gun, but Kenny had picked it out. Tim had given him the job of getting Renata armed and trained. At the time, Kenny figured they were considering recruiting Renata away from Agri-Gen, but now he thought it was to protect their interest from competitors. If Renata was attacked, she could defend herself when he wasn’t officially guarding her. The truth was that Kenny really didn’t want to know any more then he was required.

  Though Renata was lovely, Kenny wasn’t interested. That was what he told himself, anyway. Her big nipples and wide hips flashed in his memory, thickening his junk. For some reason, he had needed to fuck her in Africa before calling the Fitzer’s nurse to do his job. “He’s going to take some eggs and plant some material,” Tim had said. “Make sure she has a good time.”

  “That ain’t gonna be a problem,” he had replied.

  “I mean, if she doesn’t cum, the tissue sample won’t be any good, so it’s going to have to be about her.” He stared down at Kenny.

  “Hey, man, if you want to do her, be my guest. Otherwise, I got this.” Kenny wanted to tell Tim to back the fuck off, but this was the guy that signed his checks, so he bit back the comment.

  That night had turned out to be dick heaven. Even half-conscious, Renata was a tiger in the sack. She came three times, and by then Kenny couldn’t hold back. She passed out for a couple minutes and tackled him again. He had just enough time to get hard again. They both came after some more fucking, and then Renata fell into a drugged sleep.

  Okay, she’s out, and I did her good, Kenny texted. The guy, a local nurse, was all business, and he made quick work of his duties. He had a portable machine, which looked expensive, that pierced a tiny hole to extract the eggs. Tim probably shipped it over as a loaner, Kenny figured. Renata didn’t flinch when the nurse used the machine and pulled out her eggs. Then he scraped away a bit of skin from inside her vagina, and she bled a little. Kenny left the room for that part — it turned his stomach, and he was spent from cumming twice. When he returned, the guy was putting the used gauze into a small trash bag.

  “They’ll pick up the cooler in the morning and send it to America. Keep it closed,” he instructed Kenny. Renata was sleeping peacefully. After the nurse was gone, he dressed her in her bra and panties and crashed in his room. He hadn’t looked in the cooler, figuring that it wasn’t his business. Kenny was a good soldier and did not question his bosses; he did whatever they paid him for. He chose not to think about what the nurse did.

  Renata placed both guns on the dining table and emptied the ammo out onto a kitchen towel. The holster was big for the Pitbull, but it still fit. It held the Taurus like panty hose. She clipped it into the inside of her waistband, and the black hoody went over the bulge again. The gun lay comfortably between rib and hip. With the right outfit, it would stay hidden nicely.

  “Really, thank you Kenny.” Renata was pleased with the gift, and she put her hand over his briefly. Since they had butted heads a bit in Cameroon, Renata wondered if the holster was an apology gift. Was he making nice, or trying to get in her pants? She was headed to Guatemala soon; would Fitzer require a bodyguard for that trip too? Perhaps he was angling for another job.

  “See you around?” Renata was ready for him to go home. Then she could untie her karada.

  Kenny took the hint and headed for the door. “Hope so. Enjoy the holster. Good night.”

  12

  Kamber

  The elevator closed behind Renata as she left the office Friday evening. She slipped into the contoured seat of her Audi, put on some loud music, and sloughed off her work worries as she cruised San Francisco with the top down.

  Following a whim, Renata drove by Club Destiny. The antique store and five-and-dime were still there, but the Club’s glittery sign was gone, and the building looked vacant. She pulled up in front of the former club. The door opened, and fluffy Kamber tumbled out. Who was Danny’s dog with? Attached by a leash was Cherise, sporting a thin fountain ponytail on top of her head like a poodle. There were four silver rings through her lower lip and matching rings through one eyebrow, more piercings than Renata remembered. Kamber was pulling the leash toward Renata’s car.

  “Hi, pup, how ya doing?” Renata cooed to the fluffy animal.

  “Hey… you were Danny’s friend, right?” Cherise said.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I was.” A dart pierced Renata’s insides, and her back tingled where Yume had carved the white tattoo.

  “I miss him too. This is his dog, Kamber.” The dog’s big, furry head reached into Renata’s car window, and her iridescent eyes stared up adoringly. “My apartment doesn’t allow dogs, so I’ve been keeping her here until they end the lease. No one else can take her. Do you know anyone who wants a dog?” Cherise was barely able to keep Kamber from jumping on Renata’s car door.

  “I could take her,” Renata offered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She’d never had a dog of her own and always shied away from caregiving responsibilities. Kamber was such a beautiful beast, though, and Danny wouldn’t want her to be left uncared for. It seemed meant to be.

  “Really? Could you take her now?” The girl’s face was a mixture of relief and regret. “But could I still come see her sometimes?”

  “Of course.” Renata handed her card to Cherise.

  Renata opened the car door, and in popped Kamber to the passenger’s seat. She weighed more than Renata, and the seat belt alarm beeped. She fastened the belt behind the animal and brushed Kamber’s warm fur. Renata fell in love. The two sat side by side as they rode back to her apartment. Renata planned to settle her in and then go on a dog food run.

  Kamber curled up on Renata’s cowhide rug like she had lived there her whole life. Caressing her deep fur, Renata said, “You are beautiful. So pretty, so sweet.” It felt good to lavish attention on someone without any obligations. Renata wove Kamber’s leash into little diamonds down her front left leg. The shibari was loose, and the big dog started licking it fondly. Renata wondered if it was Kamber’s first shibari experience. Had Danny ever covered his best friend in knots? “I love you, Kamber,” Renata told her new friend.

  Kenny’s ears perked up. Finally, Renata was speaking out loud in her apartment. This was the first visitor she’d had since he had begun listening in. Unfortunately, she was mumbling. Kenny heard her say ‘pretty’ and not much else. Why did Fitzer care so much about Renata? The surveillance seemed pointless, but Kenny would follow orders. After all, that was what he got paid for.

  13

  Appetizers

  “So, how goes the yohimbe?” Erik asked. The lovers sat across from each other on the creamy leather sofas in front of the sweeping bay. They were in the only room that had shades on the windows, and the shades were up. Renata knew that closed shades and a locked door were signs that this would be an encounter of the sensuous sort; this encounter was much different. Their activities, for one, didn’t usually include food in a private setting. That was more Alexa’s style.

  Erik had never cooked a meal for Renata. The set-up was closer to a cocktail party, but she appreciated that he had taken the time to arrange the snacks. Crudités of olives, black grapes, brie, and rosemary crackers sat on the coffee table along with glasses of wine. Renata was settling onto the sofa, thinking of what might happen next. She didn’t respond to Erik’s question. He handed her a cracker covered with brie and repeated the question.

  “The yohimbe is going well?” Erik’s deep voice and elegant features got Renata’s attention at last, and she finally heard his words.

  “Yes, yohimbe is good,” Renata replied, now focused on the conversation and the fine man who lived in this office. She looked him over – something was different. Was he a bit trimmer?

  “You ready for Guatemala?” Erik put h
is hand on hers and looked deeply into her eyes. His fingertips were cool compared to his warm palm. Renata always ran hot.

  “Yes, I think so.” Renata gave him the update. “The rootstock stumps and seed are ready to be shipped from Cameroon. I have tractors on order, and they say it’ll all be ready by Friday. Then the tractors will go in a container right away onto a cargo ship. Some of them are custom made – from Oregon, actually. I’ll be in Guatemala to receive everything and do the initial set-up.”

  She was surprised Erik wanted to talk shop. Usually their interaction was of a physical nature, but maybe this was part of her new position. At the moment, yohimbe was the biggest project at Agri-Gen, so it made sense that Erik, as the CFO, would care about it. Still, the lovely bites on the table were certainly not about business.

  Renata tried to turn the conversation. “And how are you?”

  Erik looked a bit stricken by the question. Her inquiry had been innocent, but she saw a flash of pain cross the man’s face. Of course, the divorce, she reminded herself. Had he changed, or had she? She blamed the lovely cocktails and aura of his presence for distracting her.

  “Everything on track with the divorce?” Renata said the words gently. She had never given divorce much thought because she doubted she would ever marry.

  “Yes, of course. I mean, I want it, but at the same time I feel like I’m failing,” said Erik. What did that mean? Erik hadn’t mentioned failing before, and Renata wondered how long he had been feeling this way. She only hoped that this failing idea had to do with Allison only. Renata wondered how to share her feelings with Erik. Maybe they could move in together if he felt the same way.