by Q. Zayne
Maybe in part the age difference got to me. It hadn’t escaped me that my dapper benefactor was old enough to be my father. As someone who grew up without one, maybe I couldn’t help a deep sense of satisfaction that I finally had the full attention of a man full of power and authority, a man who seemed kind, benevolent, generous — and in a nearly forbidden way, excruciatingly attractive. Yet unlike an actual dad or my priest, he wasn’t forbidden. He was single. And he seemed interested in me. I misstepped and my ankle buckled. I reached out for the wall to steady myself.
“Don’t worry about anything. If you want to leave, I’ll take you back.”
“Okay.” I fought to keep my face and voice neutral. Back. Panic clawed in me. I couldn’t go back. Not yet anyway. “I’d rather stay,” I whispered. My voice disappeared in his grand hallway.
“Is your ankle all right?”
“Yes.” If it wasn’t, would he bandage it for me? I pictured his big hands on my leg and foot. I felt too warm.
He led me to a love seat on a veranda overlooking the sea. Cormorants nested on a massive fist-shaped rock offshore. Their flapping wings gave me a place to look besides at the stunning man next to me. He sat so close I felt the warmth of his thigh. A formation of pelicans flew by, just beyond the cliff edge. The birds looked prehistoric. Why did I keep thinking Gabe might be impossibly ancient?
We sat in silence. Finally, I had to ask.
“What kind of entertainment? I’m not an entertainer. Far from it. I’m the girl you’d find against the wall at a talent show, praying to be left in peace.”
“Oh, Pia. You won’t be a wallflower here. You’re the star of the show. Allow me my little mysteries for a short while longer. Trust me.”
I wanted to, but I didn’t. I looked into his deep sea eyes and wondered if he might have more in common with Lucifer, the fallen angel. I suspected he relished not telling me his purpose in bringing me to his secret compound. I was a fool. I looked back at the top cormorant. Her wings pumped up and down like a warning signal for a train.
“Come on, I’ll show you your room so you can get comfortable. We’ll save the tour for later.” He had an uncanny knack for sensing my moods. It was true that right then I wanted to be alone more than anything else in the world.
I didn’t meet his eyes, just nodded gratefully.
I followed him up the stairs. The midnight blue modest dress touched my knees as I climbed, a letdown after my vision of the pale gown floating over the treads around me.
“The room will suit you, I think. It has a view of the sea and those nesting birds you liked. There are binoculars.”
Such a thoughtful host. Why did I persist in demonizing him? What triggered my toxic suspicion? But there was no free ride. When my car broke down an old hippie who gave me a ride said, ‘Ass, cash or gas — nobody rides for free.’ I didn’t know the crude saying was an old line. I threw a couple dollars on the seat and jumped out at the next stoplight.
Did Gabe honestly find me attractive? If I dressed up like an elegant lady, would he find me beautiful?
I needed to put those thoughts in the hatbox. I tried, but they seemed determined to lift the lid with wiry gremlin arms and get out to devil me.
I peeked at some of the photographs as we passed. My body. Was my body as good as that, or that? He’d said beautiful women, as though I was one.
It was a relief when Gabe stopped at a door and opened it.
“Here, take your time. No one will enter without knocking, and it locks, in any case. Dinner is at six. My friend Javier will escort you.”
“Oh.” My face must have shown my disappointment.
“Forgive me, I have other guests. Javier isn’t a billionaire, but he’s smart and most of the women on the island turn their heads when he walks by them. He’ll take good care of you.”
“Okay.” I looked down at my shoes, not wanting him to see how crushed I felt. Handing me off to his friend didn’t help, but I supposed it was part of his hospitality, as in an old-fashioned novel where young women must always be provided a suitable escort.
“We’ll have dessert alone later. I’ll fill you in on my idea for you then. In the meantime, make yourself at home. The kitchen is always open if you want anything to eat or drink. The paths near the house have seating areas and views of the beach, and the room should have everything you need. If not, pull the tasseled cord and there’s an intercom to let the staff know what you want. Don’t be shy. You’re my special girl. We’re set up to provide every comfort.”
“Thank you. I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know how to thank you enough.” I brightened at the thought of dessert alone with him. I couldn’t help it.
He winced and waved my thanks away.
“Relax. We’ll talk later.” He turned and left the room.
I was left with his scent.
The suspense was too much, but all I could do was accept that I was on my own with full access to Gabe’s hospitality — while I endured the agonizing wait to find out what he wanted me to do in his mysterious show. Meanie.
I watched him walk down the stairs. When his handsome head was almost out of sight with its streaks of silver catching the light, my dignity asserted itself and I shut the door. I locked it.
Pressing my back against it, I surveyed my temporary domain.
Such a well-designed room: earth tones with splashes of orchid and coral, vivid greens. Furniture with curves, sensual fabrics and thick cushions. My generally overactive mind faltered at the pleasures of the simple, yet luxurious room with its harmony of textures, colors and shapes. It had an oval desk, picture windows, French doors, translucent cream drapes, a canopy bed with gauze-like curtains billowing around it like a fantasy. A quick flash of Gabe’s muscular body, his mouth. I shut my eyes.
Alone at last. Privacy. A place to be where I didn’t have to move along soon to avoid being hassled for having no place to go. Unimaginable luxury. What should I do?
I took a bath.
A knock startled me. I wrapped my arms around myself, even though I stood there fully dressed in the lingerie and new dress I wore on the flight.
“Come in.”
The man who entered filled the doorway with an even more impressive physique than Gabe’s. Thick arms stretched the sleeves of his form-fitting white T-shirt tucked into dark jeans that fit him like flesh. His dark eyes, reddish brown skin, and strong features with a prominent nose and full mouth resembled the artwork of the ancient Mayans.
He grinned and whispered something under his breath in a melodic language that might have been Spanish. I didn’t catch the words, but it sounded like a compliment or a prayer. I blushed.
“I’m Javier. Forgive me for staring. You’re beautiful.”
I looked down at my new shoes. Beautiful. The magic word again. I’d never felt beautiful. My mother’s criticisms and fears for me cut deep, left me feeling that no man could ever want me — except to ‘ruin’ me. And that I should never want a man.
Such a man, this Javier. Younger than Gabe, yet mature and confident. And those muscles, those appreciative, sparkling eyes.
“I’m Pia,” I choked out.
“Pia. Lovely name.” He seemed to savor my name in his mouth. My skin flamed from my hairline to my breasts. I regretted leaving the top button unfastened. Or maybe not. I liked his eyes so much.
“Here.” He extended a package to me, his eyes veering from my face to my body and out to the sea behind me.
I accepted the package.
“That’s from Gabe. For you to wear for the show. Okay. I’ll give you time to change and come back at 5:50. Uh, he said you can eat dinner here in the room if you want — and I can keep you company, if you like.” He glanced at the floor.
“Yes, I’d like that.” A reprieve. I hadn’t relished the prospect of dinner with strangers. And I liked the idea of dining with this confident yet abruptly shy man. Maybe Javier would help me understand what Gabe wanted from me.
He nodded and turned, s
hut the door on his quick exit.
I opened the box. I pulled out a black and white garment and stared at it. No, oh no. I threw it on the floor. How could he?
I sat in the armchair looking out at the rock with the diamond dusting of stars around it. The moon’s path went across the calm sea like a marker for flying carpets to navigate their way to other realms. The ripples increased the otherworldly quality. Tear tracks felt tight on my face.
I seethed when Gabe announced himself at the door.
He approached me with a tray. I smelled chocolate. And him.
He set the tray on the table between the armchairs: Elegant glasses of dessert topped with whipped cream and big shavings of dark chocolate.
“Chocolate mousse. No flames this time.” He smiled. He faced me, immaculate in a black evening suit. His smile collapsed. “You didn’t dress.”
I stared at him. I’d buttoned all the dress buttons. I swallowed. I didn’t know what to say to him. I’d left the costume on the floor.
“Oh. You’re offended.” He sat and extended a spoon to me.
I shook my head. He put the spoon on the tray, looked at the desserts.
“It’s for the show, Pia. Come on. It will turn the men on. Hell, it will turn me on. You don’t have to wear it for long, believe me. It’s a show. It’s what I’m paying for.”
I clenched my teeth, crossed my arms over my breasts and shook my head.
“It’s a travesty, an obscenity. I won’t wear it, not for any amount of money.” Maybe Gabe should learn there were some things money can’t buy.
I pictured my priest and hot tears ran down my face. At least the good father was alive and had no trace of second sight. He could have no idea how low I’d fallen, that I endured a man who treated me like a prostitute of the lowest sort. My anger rescued me from diving deeper into despair. I felt as enraged with myself as with Gabe. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and dug in the purse for a tissue. The purse fell and I left it on the floor. Gabe reached toward me, saw the warning in my eyes and sat back.
“I didn’t intend to upset you. You see, my club is exclusive to powerful men. Billionaires come here from all over the world for exquisite entertainment. You’re perfect. So beautiful, so fresh. You have an engaging quality of being new to everything! You’re delightful. And so petite!” He held the side of his hand against his chest at my standing height. “A grown-up Thumbelina. You’ll drive the men mad. The fact that you’re an ex- uh, former nun, adds spice. That’s all it is, an entertainment, some fun. I meant no disrespect.”
“No disrespect.” My voice shook.
“Granted, it’s risque —.”
“It’s obscene.” I took the spoon and threw it at the strip of tiles bordering the French doors. It clattered. An unsatisfying gesture, but I felt ready to explode. The kind of girl I was raised to be didn’t do or say the things raging through me.
“Gabe, you okay?”A man called through the door.
“Yes, Ralph. I’m fine.” He glanced at me. “My bodyguard.”
Maybe girls attacked his smug face all the time.
“I should leave. I should leave right now.” I gripped the chair arms. My legs vibrated as though ready to leap off running blocks in track.
“Why don’t you?”
“I want to give you something.” I spread my hands in the air, dropped them. “I want to do something for you for the day you’ve given me.” I looked at my hands in my lap. I didn’t know how to express all that I felt, the elation of being in the fairy tale palace, the sense of betrayal by the duplicitous prince who belonged to another and had just treated me like a hooker, and the confusion from my enjoyment of my conversation with Javier, who seemed so intelligent, and grounded — and kind. I sensed something protective in that big man I wanted to shelter in. The kind of shelter I used to look to religion for before I concluded I was damned.
“You think you need to pay me?” His eyes narrowed and his mouth became a hard line.
“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean —” I didn’t know how to explain it. How do you say, thank you for lifting me up? I was caught in quicksand and you lifted me out. You saved me. Even if it ended badly, even if I had to take him up on his offer to leave at any time and I left without the $10,000, I’d had a day of being treated as though I mattered. He lifted me out of the mire of invisible homelessness and brought me back to feeling like a worthwhile human being.
“Gabe, this day has meant everything to me.”
“Pia, this day is nothing compared to what this night could be for you. Trust me. Look, you don’t have to wear the costume. Forgive me for sending it to you. I should have discussed it with you. I so enjoyed my mystery that I didn’t think about how you might feel. I’m truly sorry for that.”
His sincerity, waves crashing in those deep, blue-green eyes. How could I stay mad?
Trust me. I shouldn’t. But I did. Did this man always get what he wanted?
“I believe you’re sorry.”
“Listen. I’ll send up some other things. Pick whatever you want to wear. How’s that?”
“Wear for what? You haven’t told me about this show. Though based on that costume, I have an idea.”
“It’s an auction. The members of the club write down their desire — the performance they want to see. The man who wins the auction gets to have his desire enacted. That’s where you come in as the star of the show.” He spread his hands. “So you see, I can’t tell you the details of the show because no one will know until the end of the auction. My bodyguard and security staff monitor the show. No harm will befall you.”
“You mean,” I cleared my throat, “You want me to — do sex things, some stranger’s sex things, in front of a bunch of men.”
“Yes, that’s it,” he said as though congratulating me on being a good student. “In front of a bunch of billionaires, to be precise. We all look forward to these shows.”
Shows. I wasn’t special. I was just another girl, brought here to perform. My heart plummeted into the hollow pit of my belly. I felt so duped. How stupid could I be? No wealthy, handsome man like Gabe picked some girl up out of the dirt and offered her 10 grand to become his girlfriend. I was an idiot. But I was here, and I needed money. If I left now, and despite all my fears, I did believe Gabe would keep his word and let me leave, I’d be going back to sleeping in my car and washing myself with shaking hands in public bathrooms. If I made myself follow through with this depraved — show, I’d make enough money to have a normal life. What kind of choice was that? How could I consider losing my virginity in a public show for a bunch of billionaires to ogle? But I had to consider it. Gabe had the power to change everything. I needed his help.
“Well, if not specifics, in general, then. What happens in one of these shows?”
That galled me still. There had been other shows. I wasn’t special. Was that why Javier looked at me with glowing eyes; he imagined me as one of the island’s performing hookers?
“Generally, the girl submits to whatever is required. Usually with multiple men. The auctioneer reads the desire of the winner, and the men start in on the girl. All you have to do is let them do what they want.”
I felt all the blood leave my face. Faint, I lowered my face to my hands and focused on taking a long breath. Gabe was a sick man. I peeked at him through my fingers.
“I’ll leave the contract here for you to sign.” He withdrew a sheathe of papers from inside his jacket and put them on a tray with a gleaming pen. Another well-engineered thing of beauty. Didn’t the devil usually require a signature in blood written with a sharpened plume?
I couldn’t tell him my secret. I thought about it, but I couldn’t.
No harm will befall you. I believed that much. I did trust him. Not to care about me or want me, but to honor his word. I trusted him that far.
“So sorry I botched this, Pia. I become consumed in my games. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I forgave him. I had to. But I did
n’t lift my face from my hands. Still peeking through my fingers, I saw him bend and pick up the lingerie nun’s habit, the X-rated sort, stuff it in the box and take it away. He shut the door. Masculine voices receded down the hall. No doubt his bodyguard buddy had remained to make sure I didn’t damage Gabe with a dessert spoon. The tray with twin chocolate mousses sat in the moonlight. Who said Gabe wasn’t Satan?
But I wasn’t hungry. I had no appetite at all.
Auctioned
Lights in my eyes. The auctioneer led the silent sale, collecting the bids from the faceless men in the audience. It went so fast. I felt dazed, not understanding any of it.
I stood on the mansion’s basement stage in the white gown I chose that covered me completely. Let Gabe and his club members make a fetish of my innocence. At least I won the battle not to be treated as a nun used as a whore. I shook as the auctioneer reached into a fishbowl and pulled out the winner’s envelope.
He opened it and read, “She gets tied up and tag teamed up the ass by my six massive Black African security guards. Our host and his friends are welcome to her pussy or sloppy seconds.” Impossible that such words were coming out of the elegant middle-aged man’s mouth in that sonorous voice. This couldn’t be happening to me.
A roar of laughter and approval filled the room. I lost the war. I saw Gabe’s logic. Whatever I wore would be gone in minutes. The show, the ritual of my defilement, that’s what all the men were here to experience.
But that last part, our host and his friends — that must mean Gabe. Would he use me, too? I was afraid of the unnatural act. It hadn’t occurred to me that men would want to do it to me in the wrong place, but did that mean Gabe might be the one to —. I didn’t want to think about it. I closed my eyes and swayed on my feet. I felt faint. It was a strange relief when strangers surrounded me and lifted me in their massive, muscular arms. Male musk enveloped me. I shut my eyes. Even the padded leather cuffs being buckled on my wrists and ankles gave me comfort. This was not my fault. I was not responsible for any of it. They’d tie me up, do what must be done. I’d endure. I’d be paid. That’s all I had to think about for however long it lasted. But six men. Six big Black African security guards. I pictured them as muscular and tall as Javier, only dark as coal. I’d heard coarse comments on the street, the fabled genital size of Black men. How could I stand it? And then Gabe. And his friends. Would Ralph who I knew only from his gravelly voice, and Javier, join in the show and ravish me, too?