Kinky(38)
It goes to voicemail.
I try again.
Voicemail again. His phone is switched off. He always switches it off for our ‘sessions’.
My head swims with indecision. An impulse forms, quickly, and before I can question it I am heading down the back stairs and out of the building.
I approach Kinky Cupcake from the least visible street corner, scurrying in past the lone morning bouncer, who tilts his head and looks at me with unabashed curiosity. I am hoping that Anton has relinquished his post and is actually getting some work done.
‘Is O in the office?’ I ask breathlessly, signing in.
‘She’s in the dungeon. Checking the equipment. Do you need to see her?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
‘She won’t be long. Grab a coffee upstairs while you’re waiting.’
‘Cheers, I will.’
But I don’t.
The café is almost empty, just me and the barista and a guy covered in tattoos eating cupcakes in the corner.
I order the coffee and take it to the table nearest the door to the private rooms. It’s a bit of a blind spot, invisible from the bar area, tucked in a corner. I take two sips, wait for the barista to start messing about with his phone then sneak down to the dungeon.
Schoolroom, empty. Medical room, empty. Dungeon …
I push the door and fit my eye to the crack.
I nearly run back upstairs.
O is completely naked, her arms cuffed to a wooden cross, her head thrown back, her spine rubbing against the varnished post in near ecstasy.
After my initial pang, my eye is drawn back to her. She looks so beautiful, so wanton, so desirable. Her legs are slightly parted, exposing her shaved pussy lips and the teeny-tiny tip of her clit, which is pierced, like her nipples. Even when I watched her fucking the other day, she didn’t look this … rapt.
I feel guilty but I can’t stop watching. My forehead nudges the door and it creaks, unexpectedly.
‘Is that you, Mal?’
Her eyes have focused, snap, just like that, and she looks straight at me, expectantly.
I want to run, but my legs have gone. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I gabble, pushing the door. ‘It’s me. I didn’t mean to spy. I just … I wanted to ask you something.’
Her eyes widen and she stares for a silent age. ‘Rosie. Come over here.’
I look back, still contemplating escape, but there’s no point now, so I walk over to her. What can she do to me with her arms strapped to the cross anyway?
‘You can see how I’m fixed,’ she drawls. ‘Mal’ll be here in a minute. He’ll be interested to see you.’
I try to keep my eyes from dropping to her breasts and crotch. I feel a bit like a pervy old man must feel. But she’s so gorgeous, all naked and spread-eagled there.
‘I just wondered,’ I say, feeling ineffably stupid, ‘if you’d seen Dimitri at all this morning.’ I pause. ‘I can’t get hold of him, you see,’ I add helpfully.
‘Ah, Dimitri,’ she says, rolling his name around in her mouth like a fine wine. ‘Isn’t everyone trying to get hold of him?’
She seems to enjoy my anxiety. ‘Are they? Really? Like who?’
‘Oh, just people in general. He’s such an attractive man, isn’t he? Seems tragic to keep him all to yourself. A man like that has so much to offer the community.’
My admiration of her turns to dislike.
‘That’s rather up to him, isn’t it?’ I say tightly. ‘I like this idea that community spirit involves whipping every backside that bares itself to you. Do you think the government would go for that idea? Beats the Big Society, doesn’t it? So to speak.’
She laughs. ‘You’re an interesting girl too, Rosie. To be fair, a lot of the tops have their eyes on you. Including Mal.’
‘Well, I’m not available. Except to Dimitri. Look, do you want me to undo those cuffs?’ O is starting to look uncomfortable.
‘No, it’s fine. Mal won’t thank you for it. I’ve orders to stay like this until he comes back. What you said about only being available to Dimitri though … are you sure he feels that way?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s a free spirit, Rosie. Don’t you see that? He can’t be caged by one person’s jealousy or possessiveness. He needs his space.’
‘You seem to know him very well.’
‘We’ve spoken at length, every time he’s booked a room here. You can’t hang on to a man like that. He’s not for hanging on to. He’s for experiencing and adoring and remembering all your life. But you can’t expect to keep him.’
‘What the hell have you been talking about? You sound like some kind of hippy dippy sixties song lyric.’