The Red(5)

"You're a very beautiful young lady," Malcolm said. "I like very beautiful young ladies."

"Do you?"

"I'm a connoisseur."

"Are you? Do you have a favorite type?"

"Elegant prostitutes," he said. "A perennial favorite."

"You know I'm not a prostitute, yes?" she asked.

"Not yet. But I think you'll make a fine whore."

She flinched at the word although he didn't say it like an insult. It sounded rather nice coming from him. Like a pet name almost.

"You enjoy using women for their bodies," she said.

"Yes, very much so."

"Most women prefer to be used for their minds."

"Foolishness," he said.

"Foolishness?"

"The mind is seated in the brain, yes?"

"Well … yes."

"The brain is an organ of the body. Whether I use you for your mind or use you for your cunt, I'm still using you for an organ of your body."

"You make an interesting point." The brain was indeed a bodily organ as were the genitals. She could hardly argue his logic.

"You're sitting on a goldmine, Mona. Literally."

She blushed. "I've never had my vagina called a goldmine before."

"Perhaps I was referring to your arse."

"Oh yes, hadn't thought of that."

"Why do I want to be generous with you, you asked me earlier. The answer is simple: I want to. Reason enough for me. If you want more to specifics, well, you're a beauty, as I said. Magnificent legs, marvelous ankles. And I love a girl with red hair, even if it is artificial. Your complexion is lighter than I prefer but it will show bites and blushes well. You wear your hair tastefully. Most women these days wear their hair shorn off or unbound and undone. Takes the magic out of the hair if it's already down and loose before we've gone to bed. You wear yours pinned up and it makes me imagine what it looks like down. I like that very much." 

She warmed at the compliments.

"You could have seduced me for free, you know." If he had no qualms about admitting his attraction to her, she'd have none about admitting hers to him. "You are very handsome."

"Am I?"

"I like … " He'd enumerated her best features in detail. Surely he expected the same from her, yet she shied away from telling him how attractive she found him. He didn't seem the sort to need his ego massaged. "I like your hands."

"My hands."

"They're big," she said. "And muscular. Sort of. They have lovely veins in them. I like male hands with veins. I noticed them the first time I saw you. And surely you noticed me noticing them if you're such a connoisseur of women."

"I did."

"And yet you want to pay me for sex instead of simply asking me out on a date and getting it for free."

"Let me explain, darling." He leaned forward and rested an elbow on the chair arm. He used the hand attached to that arm and elbow to gesticulate as he spoke. "When a woman such as yourself and a man such as myself are lovers … " He pointed at her and then at himself. "Expectations are raised. Marriage being one of them. Lovers often love each other. I have no interest in love or marriage from you. Nor do I wish to take you to dinner. I simply want to fuck you in various ways that please me. It's my preference."

The phrase "in various ways" brought images into Mona's mind. She warmed even more. She started to cross her legs but caught herself in time.

"I have heard that men don't pay prostitutes for the sex itself. They pay prostitutes to leave."

He laughed softly, a warm sensual laugh. Now she did cross her legs.

"There may be some truth to that," Malcolm said. "A man can get the same thing from his wife as he could get from a whore, but the wife might want to talk after."

"God forbid."

"Indeed. I wouldn't pay you to leave, however. I'll do the leaving after. What I'm paying for, in fact, is permission. Carte blanche, shall we say."

"Carte blanche? Meaning?"

"I want your permission to do whatever I want to do with your body."

"Whatever you want? That doesn't sound safe."

"I realize that," he said. "I'll make you this promise-I won't damage you in any way. Will there be bites? Of course. Bruises? Undoubtedly. One can hardly kiss a girl as pale as you without leaving a mark. Will I make you bleed? Probably not, but it's happened before. I won't pull out your fingernails or submit you to water torture. If you genuinely thought I wanted to do you real harm, I wouldn't be in this office negotiating with you, would I?"

"No."

"On the other hand, it's a virtual certainty I'll chain you to the bed and bugger you. I'm sure it will come as no shock to you that I am also very fond of riding crops."