At the base of the occasional table snaked a pile of heavy steel chains, wound around and around upon themselves like a metal ball of yarn. Balanced on top of the chains were two heavy steel padlocks plated in brass, with old-fashioned skeleton keys sticking out of their keyholes. I knelt to pick them up, and found the chains and locks surprisingly light. I surmised they must be made of lightweight aluminum, not steel---but that isn’t what I asked for.
I unwound the chains from their snaked pile and found two sets of cuffs at the bottom. Those were steel, at least----but I was unhappy that my request hadn’t been followed to the letter.
Becoming a bit of a diva are you, Delaney? my inner self remarked. My, my, my. how you’ve changed.
“Shut up,” I said aloud, then bit my lip in dismay. Good God, I was talking to myself. I was fast losing my grip on reality. Either that or I was just at war with myself, two competing selves---Nancy Delaney, innocent American college student, versus Domino, mysterious international sexpot.
But after I inspected the chains more closely, the use of a lighter material made a lot of sense. I balanced the heavy padlocks in one hand versus a handful of chain in the other and discovered that had the chains been forged of the same heavy solid steel as the padlocks, they’d have been far to heavy for me to handle, rendering any effect they’d give me as a Dominant moot, making me far less marketable. Elzbeta must have known that, and altered my request accordingly. I couldn’t help but smile slightly to myself; I hadn’t booked a single client yet, but my madam was already taking good care of me.
How swiftly I fell into my new role! Once upon a time, not so long ago, the notion of whips and chains would have terrified me. Now I just accepted them as the required tools of my newfound occupation.
I arranged my new toys on my bed and rang for Elzbeta. She appeared in less than a minute, letting herself in to my room with her master key. I noticed she carried a thick black file folder tucked underneath one arm. “I trust everything is to your satisfaction?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I replied. “And thank you for, um---“ I trailed off, and motioned in the direction of the chains.
“Of course.” She fingered one of the sets of steel cuffs, which I noticed for the first time were lined with the highest-quality shearling wool. “I already have some idea based on your request on what kinds of services you plan to offer, and as such I sent a bulletin out to our list of contacts. Even without providing details of your persona and fantasy scenario, we have already received three confirmed bookings for you. Your first shall arrive within the hour. Are you ready?”
My stomach fluttered. “No.” It was the truth. Then again, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready.
Elzbeta seemed to expect this. “It’s all right to be nervous,” she said, patting me lightly on the shoulder. “And you’ve had a very rough couple of days. That’s why I made a point to book a very gentle, nondemanding client for your first appointment. He was my own first client, in fact. I think you’ll like him. His name is Ludwig and he’s a Swiss banker. I serviced him for several years, and his generosity is one reason why I was promoted from hostess to my current position as manager.”
She took the file folder out of the crook of her elbow and handed it to me. “You’ll find everything you need to know about him in there. Read it over while you’re getting ready. I’ve arranged for my personal maid Katerina to assist. She’ll do your hair and makeup and provide any assistance you might need with dressing and setting up your props.” She pointed a red-lacquered nail towards the ceiling. “Katerina will also explain how to use your harness apparatus.”
I cast my eyes skyward as Elzbeta flipped a switch on the wall. A trapdoor slid open in the ceiling, and the crystal light fixture disappeared inside, soon to be replaced by a descending steel pole system that held a series of metal hooks. “The hooks are of various sizes and capable of suspending various weights,” Elzbeta explained. “Ludwig is a large man, so I suggest you use the ‘G’ hook, at the end of the pole.” She didn’t explain exactly what I’d use the ‘G’ hook for, but my mind was already racing with the possibilities. I only wish I had access to the Internet for research purposes.
As if reading my thoughts, Elzsbeta produced a small tablet computer from her dressing-gown pocket. “This tablet is preloaded with several articles and diagrams about suspension bondage,” she said. “Feel free to peruse it while Katerina does your coiffure. But active internet usage and outgoing phone calls are prohibited on the premises, per Mr. Bluschencko’s orders. Do not make any attempt to do either. If you do, we will know, and there will be consequences.”
I took the tablet, but a cold shiver went up my spine as I again noted just how astute Elzbeta was. She could read me like a book. I wondered for at least the third time if she was psychic. Was that how she became so successful as a hostess here at the House of Pleasure? By reading her clients’ desires before they even knew what they were, and then fulfilling them, only to deny them satisfaction in the end? Small wonder she’d been given charge of us prisoners. She could kill anyone with kindness.
“Tell me what your fantasy plan is, Domino,” she said, peering deep into my eyes in a manner I found more than a little unsettling. Still, her penetrating stare served as an inspiration of sorts. There could be no dilly-dallying, no compromise of ideas as long as she was present. I supposed that was yet another attribute that put her in a position of power here. I also supposed I could learn from that, and from her.
I returned her stare, tit for tat, feeling suddenly older and stronger as I did so. “I shall be a Dominant,” I said. My voice changed as I spoke these words---becoming deeper, heavier, with a sort of gravitas I’d never known myself capable of. I felt as though I were watching the scene unfold from somewhere up above, not recognizing myself or my surroundings. “I will be a Dominant in the Victorian tradition,” I said. “I will rely on my knowledge of the literature of the period for inspiration. I shall portray a chaste Victorian woman, but instead of being the traditional passive, mewling sort, I shall turn that archetype on its head. I will rule my clients with my feminine wiles. They will never lay a hand on me, yet I will bring them more satisfaction than they ever thought possible.”
I hadn’t planned these words, they just sort of fell out of my mouth like so many stars. My inner self had taken over; she was calling the shots now, not I. Domino had arrived.
Elzbeta seemed pleased. “You have very good instincts, Domino,” she said. “You will do well here, and so will we. As I said before, your inexperience can be a great advantage in our line of work, if you channel it properly.” She got up and headed for the door. “Katerina will be here shortly. Take a shower now, and be sure to wash your hair to give Katerina a clean slate to work with. Ludwig should be here soon, but I will not send him back to you until you ring me that you’re ready to receive him. Ring your call bell three times, that’s how I’ll know.”
She made a motion to leave, but stopped short just before stepping over the threshold. “Ludwig likes to be bound, hung, and gagged in various ways,” she remarked. “You’ll see some photographs of his past sessions that give examples. But he’s done it so many times and in so many ways that I think he’s grown bored. Your job is to find a new way to satisfy him.”
With that, Elzbeta left.
I ducked into my private bath and took a quick shower and Katerina was waiting for me by my vanity table when I came out. I seated myself on the padded vanity stool in my bathrobe while Katerina worked on my hair. I flipped through the documents and photographs in Ludwig’s file while she combed, tugged and pulled my locks into an elaborate Victorian-style updo.
Ludwig was a high-ranking banker and economist with the Swiss bank UBS. A graduate of the London School of Economics, he was a native of Zurich and currently made his home in Geneva, maintaining pied-a-terres in Moscow, Berlin, and Sevastopol. A corporate-style headshot showed a man who looked to be in his early fifties, with a prominent jaw and a receding hai
rline. Nothing seemed unusual about him at first glance, but under the surface lay a lusty, kinky man----as evidenced by the stack of bondage photos that displayed him naked in a series of ever-more-elaborate restraint poses. The first had him naked, with hands cuffed behind his back. The second, naked in a spreadeagle position, each limb cuffed to the four posts of a bed. The third in an upside-down pike position on a spreader bar suspended in midair while wearing a ball gag and a leather vest; the fourth in an allover leather catsuit that left only his genitals exposed, as he was suspended and chained from the ceiling in the teardrop position. He appeared slightly older and heavier in each photograph, as if they were arranged to show a chronological projection of his ever-more-kinky tastes.
I studied the final photograph carefully, searching for ideas on what I could possibly do to top it, and came up with nothing. Elzbeta had said several times now that my inexperience came as an advantage here, but I no longer believed her. I’d never seen anything like these photos before, and what little I knew of bondage came from books or my imagination, not personal experience. My soon-to-be client was a connoisseur who had seen and done everything there was to do in that world, and my future life and safely lay in my ability to please him. What would happen if I failed? I was stranded in another country without so much as a passport, and nobody knew where I was----what was stopping Bluschencko from taking me out and having me shot if I proved unsuccessful? Nothing. The very idea terrified me.
I had to stop this line of thinking. I was nothing if not resourceful, not to mention creative. I prayed that a solution would present itself, and fast.
Katerina tugged hard on my hair, jerking my head backward. “Ouch!”
“Sorry,” Katerina mumbled in her heavily accented English. “I only try make you look good.”
I studied Katerina’s reflection in the mirror. She looked to be in her mid to late forties, with graying hair and a double chin, though her features were sharply drawn and perfectly symmetrical. She was short, paunchy, and might once have been beautiful, but now she looked like any middle-aged housewife you might meet on the street. I wondered how much a lady’s maid like her got to see in a place like this. “My client, Ludwig---do you know him?”
She gave a single nod as she tucked bobby pins into the chignon she’d fashioned out of my shoulder-length hair, but said nothing more. Despite her reticence I was impressed with her handiwork so far. Then she started on my makeup. “You wish to look Victorian, yes?” she asked, opening a trunk filled with expensive MAC cosmetics and brushes.
“Yes.”
“Virgin or whore? Virgin, no makeup. Whore, lots. That was how done in olden times.”
“How about something in between?”
She nodded her understanding and set to work, carefully selecting an array of pots, powders and brushes. “Turn around,” she ordered. “No look in mirror until done.”
I obeyed and let her do her magic. I thought about striking up further conversation in an attempt to glean some more information about her, about Elzbeta, about Ludwig, about anything---but figured that would only interfere with her work. Plus I figured that in her years here Katerina had learned discretion. She wouldn’t be an easy mark, I was certain.
After nearly twenty minutes of painting, blushing, and powdering, she stood back for a moment and admired her handiwork. “Only one more thing you need,” she said, and tucked back into her makeup case, rummaging around until she found a thick black stick of kohl. She produced a cigarette lighter and touched the end of the kohl stick into the flame, then dragged the warm tip across both my eyelids. She dusted me with light powder, then stood back to give me a once-over. “That will do,” she said, and spun my vanity stool around to face the mirror again.
I almost didn’t recognize myself. My face resembled a porcelain mask, with heavy black lines around my eyes, which were almost devoid of shadow, and a thick red gash for a mouth. She’d placed heavy streaks of blush not on my cheekbones but just below them, which gave my face an almost sunken, skeletal look. What wasn’t heavily colored was powdered bone-white. I almost resembled a porcelain doll----if porcelain dolls were made up to look like clowns.
“Are you sure this is right?” I asked. “I look----well----“
Katerina held up her hand. “Wait. Not finished.” She went to the mirrored cabinet on the wall and returned with my silver domino mask, which she placed on my face, tying its ribbons in a tight knot at the base of my skull. She went to the wall switch and turned down the electric lights, and lit the multiple pillar candles that were scattered around the room. “Now look,” she ordered.
I glanced into the mirror again, and this time was pleased. Between the mask and the dim light, now I resembled a sultry temptress. I could tell that Katerina had done this many times; without her skilled makeup application, my face would have disappeared behind the mask and the darkness. “I suppose I should get dressed now,” I said. “I’ll need some help getting into the corset.”
Katerina nodded. “I know,” she said, her voice seeming to come from far away. “In other time, it was mine.” She picked up the steel contraption and stroked two of its bones lovingly, her eyes closed. “You will enjoy very much. I did. Here, stand by bed.”
I did as ordered. She stripped me of my bathrobe, leaving me naked there in the middle of the room. Then she went to my wardrobe and came back with a black satin bra with matching panties and garter belt, and then helped me into them. She selected a pair of black fishnet stockings and handed them to me to slip on while she prepared the corset and bustle.
“Once you wearing these, you cannot move much,” she said, unfastening a row of dozens of tiny hooks and eyes. “You must use words, not body. Ludwig, he speak English, French and German. He obey, but only if you amuse him.”
She didn’t elaborate further on how I might amuse him. I supposed that Katerina must have once been an entertainer like me, but now she was relegated to doing up hair and makeup, and maybe washing out used laundry. I noticed then that she moved languidly, as if it pained her, and her eyes seemed to have had the light knocked out of them. They were the eyes of a defeated woman just going through the motions. Was this what was in store for me in ten or fifteen years?
I resolved then and there never to let such a thing happen to me. I would use my wiles, skills, even my body to ensure I would not suffer Katerina’s fate, and I would start that very day.
I stood still to allow Katerina to dress me in my elaborate steel costume and feathery accessories, biding my time as I waited for an opportunity to ask my last and most important question. Only when my upper body was encased in the corset’s steel cage, with the wide-brimmed feather hat atop my head and my feet balanced on the sculpted heels of the kidskin highbutton boots did I dare venture into what I was sure was forbidden territory. “Why did you stop seeing clients, Katerina?”
She was fastening the last few buttons on my left boot then, and stopped short. The words of my question hit her like a blow, but she didn’t reply at first and instead just kept on with her task. When the last button was fastened, she looked up. “I no longer do my job, so Mr. Bluschencko find another one for me.” She pursed her lips tightly then, as if to signal that was all she intended to say on the subject. But I pressed her further. “You serviced Ludwig, didn’t you?”
She gave a single nod, and looked away.
“Was it him that you failed to satisfy?”
She did not meet my eyes, but nodded again.
“Why? Tell me. I don’t want to fail.”
She winced then, and I realized that my last statement came out sounding like a direct insult to her. I softened my expression and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me this evening. I just hope you can help me with this one thing. Because truthfully, I’m scared to death.” That last part was probably the first honest thing I’d said all day.
“Ludwig, he love to fear,” she said, finally. I didn’t understand what she meant at first. Kate
rina guessed this and went on. “Frighten him. Use your power to do this. Your words are your power. Anything you do, make it part of the game. This is what will save you.”
This is what will save you. I didn’t quite know what to make of that. But then, as Katerina gathered her things to leave, she shot me a probing look with those dead eyes of hers. “You have power,” she said, with more force and clarity than she’d said anything so far. “Use it.”
She turned on her heel and left.
I stared at the empty space where she’d stood a moment before, and suddenly, an idea came to me. I decided I’d have to thank her for it, if I ever had the chance.
That’s assuming it worked, of course. There was only one thing to do now.
****
Ludwig arrived in my quarters about an hour later, wearing a silk paisley bathrobe and carrying a glass of fine cognac. He was older and paunchier than the pictures in his portfolio; by the looks of him now, those photos had to have been taken at least ten years ago. Either that, or he’d been living hard and fast recently----doubtful, since he was a Swiss banker who came to establishments like the House of Pleasure mostly out of boredom.
But it was Ludwig’s boredom I was counting on. After careful thought I realized that Katerina had been trying to warn me about this place. After going over and over the few cryptic things she’d said about herself and Ludwig, I could draw only one conclusion. She must have had a chance to get out of here at some point, probably through him, but for whatever reason had squandered that opportunity. I would not make the same mistake. I wouldn’t disappoint Katerina, who obviously looked at me as a successor of sorts. I’d inherited her steel corset, her bustle, maybe even her locks and chains----but I would not inherit her fate.
Domino (The Domino Trilogy) Page 30