Dangerous (4 page)

“Hello, Koishi.”

That mind-reader thing again. Or was it just caller ID? But more disarming was the silver sound of her delight in my inevitable return, my persistence in letting the phone ring so long. Did she see that as desperation? Was
everything
a test with her?

“Hi, Val,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You mentioned getting together for drinks, the other night…”

“
The Blue Nile
, in Century City. Nine pm?”

“Tonight? Um, sure.”

“I’ll make reservations. See you then.”

“Okay,” I said. “What should I—”

“Ta.” And she was gone.

§

I arrived ten minutes early and was seated after giving Val’s name to the hostess. Val appeared precisely at nine o’clock. She didn’t offer her hand when I rose to greet her, but simply gestured for us to sit, facing each other across the small table. A waitress took our drink orders.

A small band played a subdued improvisational piece, with piano, sax, and bass tumbling over slithery, bumping percussion. It was quiet enough for us to talk without having to shout. A couple dozen other customers were there, chatting quietly at their own tables.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Val said.

I’d agonized over what to wear before deciding on my Little Black Dress, a stretchy rayon off-shoulder thing I hadn’t worn in years. I’d put my hair in a loose up-do, Audrey Hepburn style.

“And you look terrific, Val,” I replied.

Tonight she wore narrow glasses that gave her an air of gentility. Her appearance was less severe than at the party, but still slightly masculine: a plum-colored vest over a white blouse with lace cuffs, and soft gray-blue slacks with smart-looking darts in front. Her dark, low-heeled pumps had slightly squared toes rather than points.

Surprisingly, though, she’d worn her hair down. It reached to the middle of her back and framed her face in a way that gave her an androgynous, slightly vampiric appearance. She was more classically beautiful tonight, but also more feral.

Val watched me for a minute, pale and intimidating in the soft light from the candle in the middle of our table. She waited for me to speak and the moment dragged on until I was forced to laugh nervously. “I see you didn’t bring Millie this time,” I said, privately relieved. “How long have you two…” I didn’t know how to finish that question.

She smiled. “Millie just flew back to New York last night. She visits every couple of months, when she comes here on business.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, not seeing at all. “I’d thought…”

“Thought what? There’s very little about my life you could possibly know, or even guess. Now…tell me why you called this afternoon.”

What kind of a question was that? I struggled to compose a suitable answer. What
did
I expect from this meeting?

“You said you wanted to have a few drinks with me, Val.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, like a cat’s. Ready to pounce.

“My exact words were, ‘buzz me if you’d like to have a drink sometime’. Isn’t that right?” Chastened, I nodded. This wasn’t turning out the way I’d imagined. “Which means we’re sitting here because
you
wanted to meet
me
. Surely you had something in mind?”

I sat back, blinking back the sting of a tear in my eye. “I don’t know. You’re unique. I thought we’d have a good time together.”

Her shark smile again. “I’m sure we could have a splendid time together. But what do you imagine that might involve?”

Her questions were like hot pokers, touching me in tender spots I didn’t know I had. It was impossible to have a normal conversation with this maddening woman who delighted in stripping away pleasantries.

Our drinks arrived just as my cheeks began to color. I didn’t object when Val paid for both, believing I deserved something for my grief. Maybe this meeting was a mistake after all.

But when the waitress left, Val relented.

“I was making a point, dear. You see, I don’t waste my time with people who can’t communicate honestly. Sadly that rules out most of the human race. But you seem at least partially aware of your true feelings. Better yet, you act on them. You may even be capable of breaking through your barriers of self-deception. What do you think?”

Was this praise, or a goad, or both? I was a butterfly pinned to a display board, trapped yet admired.
Is this how cult leaders do it? Tear people down and rebuild them?

But she had a point. An unnamed yearning had brought me here, and I had to confront it. Suddenly I was a little girl again, gathering the courage to whisper my sins through the confessional screen. If anyone could be the perfect sin-eater, it was a creature like Val. With her I could be brave.

I nodded humbly, and received her look of approval.

“Now tell me. Why did you want to see me again?”

The word—her word—rose from some dark, unexplored part of my mind.

“I’m…hungry.” And felt foolish saying it.

Val closed her eyes as if savoring a bite of Belgian chocolate. This was what she’d wanted to hear. The truth. My heart pounded as blood sang in my ears.

I can stop any time I want to.

She opened her eyes. “That’s a good girl. As a reward, I’m going to ask a few questions. Answer honestly. If you don’t know an answer, say so. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you find me attractive?”

I nodded. “I do, actually. Which is surprising because you’re not really my typ—”

“Please answer with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, unless I say otherwise.” She paused. “Do you want to experience the kind of relationship I share with Millie?”

How could I answer that? Deep breath. “Yes.” It felt less wrong than
no
.

“Do you have any idea what it is we do together?”

“Um, maybe. I wanted to ask y—”

She frowned. “
Yes
or
no
, please.”

I thought about it. “No.”

“Yet you’re willing to dive in anyway. Brave girl. You appear to trust me a great deal.”

“Yes.” Strangely I did, though I couldn’t say why.

“That wasn’t a question, Koishi.
Please
try to follow my instructions or I’ll have to call this off.”

I nodded, off-balance. This game of Simon Says was exasperating. All my social skills were completely wrong for it, and I had to think carefully about each answer before speaking. It felt…perilous.

“Have you ever had sex with a woman?” she said, loud enough for the next table to hear.
Sex
, not
made love
.

I blushed. “No. Well…”

Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight. “Either you have or you haven’t. Explain.”

“Yes. If you consider one time of heavy petting as sex.” I said quietly, leaning forward.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Had I? Lacey Dalton and I had been college classmates and good friends. One night, after her messy breakup with a long-time boyfriend, the two of us had gotten pretty stoned and one thing led to another. It never happened again. She and I drifted apart soon after, and one of the unspoken reasons was our awkwardness over that unplanned intimacy.

I’d never really considered what happened with Lacey as sex, but still….

“Yes,” I said, surprised by my own answer.

“Have you ever been tied up?”

“No.” Though one boyfriend had wanted to try it, and I’d refused.

“Would you consent to it?”

My heart raced. Wow. Could I do that? After looking to see if anyone was listening, I forced myself to reply.

“Yes.” I was sure my eyes betrayed my misgivings.

She had that sated look again. I waited for the next dreadful question, taking a drink just to busy my hands.

After a long pause, she said:

“You’ve done fairly well considering you’re new. We’re done with the ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions.”

“Thank god,” I laughed. So far, this encounter felt more like a job interview for the CIA than a date.

She pushed her glasses up and sat back. “Anyway, you’re spirited, and bright enough for me to invest some time into. You might just grow into the role I have in mind. What do you know about dominance and submission?”

Ah. Now we’d come to the point.

The term evoked a swarm of impressions, all off-putting: corsets, studded collars, and bellicose, bare-chested men in leather chaps. “Only what I’ve seen in movies. Some guy in college gave me a book about it,
The Book of O
or something. It…”

“Yes?” she prompted.

“It seemed crazy at the time.”

“And now?”

I grinned meekly. “It still does, kinda.”

“And yet here you are. Why?”

“Is that what you do? The whips and chains thing, I mean.” Because it held no appeal for me.

Was it amusement which raised the corners of her mouth, or something darker? “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Neither have you,” I said playfully, and immediately knew my blunder by the change in Val’s expression, like a door closing.

Val stood and smoothed her vest, preparing to go. “Thank you for coming.”

I reached out a hand and blurted, “No, no, I’m sorry, Val. Please don’t go.”

That stopped her, but only just. She waited for more.

“I’m here because you’re interesting,” I said. “I don’t really know anything about that other stuff. Really, I’m sorry.”

She took her seat again. “Let’s try this once more. Why did you call me?”

“I wanted to see you again.”

“That’s nice. What do you want from me?”

My mind raced, unaccustomed to such direct questioning.

“I…You gave me a taste of something at the party. I don’t know what, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I guess I want more.”

Judging by her expression, this was progress.

“You said you were hungry. For what?”

“Really, I don’t know. I want something
different
, and you’re definitely that.”

My appeal to her vanity had the desired effect; she sat back and took another drink while considering her next words.

“Millie is a submissive. Surely you figured that out, at least.”

“I knew there was something weird—I mean, unusual—going on there.”

She continued: “Submission comes in different flavors. For some it’s a little spice in their sex. Silk blindfolds, light spanking; that sort of thing.”

I nodded.

“For others it’s a total power exchange. It all depends on the tastes of the participants, what they agree to beforehand. But in general a submissive is obedient. Attentive. Available.”

“Isn’t that sort of one-sided? What does Millie get out of it?”

“My undivided attention. Which, she would tell you, can be quite fierce. Mind you this isn’t about sex; it’s more of a discipline. An art form. Not unlike the Japanese tea ceremony, which I expect you know something about.”

I nodded. Mom had tried to teach me, but I was a poor student. I’d almost preferred being dragged to Mass by Dad.

“Some people might call Millie a
pet
, which is one kind of submissive. But pets require too much maintenance, so I prefer to keep dolls. It’s my own term.”

I’d heard her use the word
doll
several times with Millie, in a not-quite-innocent in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. Now I knew why.

“A doll is a toy I play with, then put away for another day. Unlike pets, my dolls don’t require constant supervision. They’re self-sufficient until it’s time to play again. But when we do play, a doll must obey me. Completely.”

Yes, my Queen
, I thought, as a tumbler clicked into place deep inside my soul. I knew this game, or at least its basic outline.

“Does that frighten you?”

“Yeah. A little.” Val would be a more demanding Queen than my cousin Lupe, that much I knew.

“With my personality and line of business, it just works out better this way. Millie’s been my doll for a year now. Did she appear to be a victim?”

I shook my head. A bitch, maybe, but not a victim.

“Most people are not cut out for this. I’ve let several dolls go because they demanded more attention than I could spare.” She studied me closely. “I choose my dolls carefully. I can’t stand drama or co-dependence. But you don’t strike me as having those flaws, which is why you received my card. You’re interesting. You’re motivated. And emotionally mature enough to avoid being a burden, I’m betting.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Any thoughts? Questions?” She regarded me over the rim of her glass while taking a drink.

I was, in fact, piled high with questions but they refused to coalesce into words. Finally I said:

“I don’t know the first thing about any of this. I’d probably do something stupid and you’d…” Several scary verbs came to mind; I chose the least worrisome. “…get upset with me.”

“Dolls aren’t expected to know anything right out of the box. You’ll learn what’s required of you.” Her head tilted down slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on mine. “You strike me as a girl who enjoys roller coasters. Yes?”

“I haven’t been on one in years. But yeah.”

“I sensed that about you. Very well. Understand that I’m considered a rather extreme person, and this game involves intense interactions. Strong feelings.” Val paused. “Feelings such as lust. Bliss. Humiliation. Anger. Even fear.” The slithery coolness of that last word made me shiver.

“What if it’s too much for me? I mean, I think I trust you but this is way beyond anything I’ve ever done before. I’m not sure I can…make an informed choice at this point.”

“I’m patient. There’s an art to training a doll. Each one is unique, and it takes time, so we’ll go slow. Also I want you to remember this word: frogspawn."

I laughed uncertainly. “Frogspawn?” The word triggered a nauseating mental image of a Surinam toad, the kind with a layer of eggs wriggling in its back. I willed the image away with a shudder.

“Yes, it’s a safeword. If you ever have a problem, just say that word and we’ll stop whatever we’re doing.”

That was reassuring.

“Understand this, Koishi. It will be
you
driving this process. Exploring your own subconscious. Not me. I’m only a tour guide. We can go as deep, as slow, or as fast as you like. If you need a break, just say so and we’ll stop. And besides, I have other dolls to play with if one is resting."