The New Rakes (11 page)

Kara cocked an eyebrow at Lina. The older woman had settled herself into one of Jerome’s bucket chairs and looked as though she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She nodded at Kara.

‘Jerome has worked with the best,’ she said pointedly, as though that absolved him from perversion. ‘Do as he says now.’

‘Quick, quick,’ Jerome added, snapping his fingers at Kara. ‘No point in being coy.’

Kara undressed as quickly as she could, pulling her top over her head and shuffling out of her denim skirt. She dropped them, as Jerome had directed, on the chair, and stood awkwardly holding her elbow, as though one arm over her belly could cover her nakedness.

‘Everything, Kara,’ Lina said, ‘latex is very unforgiving.’

And so, while Jerome chose a hanger and turned to lay the bundled plastic in his arms reverently on the table, Kara unhooked her bra and draped it over the rest of her clothes, pulled off her knickers and bunched them in her hand. For some reason, she didn’t want to let go of them, no matter that she was standing gloriously naked under the studio’s strip lights with two strangers. Her skin was prickling with goosebumps and her nipples pinched tight in the suddenly cold daylight.

‘Not shaved,’ Jerome said, frowning at Kara’s pubis. ‘Shame.’

Silently, Kara gave thanks for the triangle of dark hair that curled over her pussy and covered her most intimate parts. Without it, she would be one degree more naked, one particularly
obscene
degree. It might be obvious how her clit had darkened and swelled, how she was bizarrely excited by the situation she found herself in – ashamed, but unable to stop her body from reacting. She kept her thighs pressed together and hoped the wetness between her legs was not visible. When Jerome approached, she held herself rigid, arms clutched at her sides.

Apart from her shame at being so publicly exposed, she hadn’t showered that morning, had changed at breakneck speed to accompany Lina on this twisted ‘shopping’ expedition. There was a lingering smell on her, the rosemary scent of Mike’s aftershave and pungent traces of the night before. She was nervous now, starting to sweat, and the sweat was enlivening every sweet and earthy fragrance that clung to her. Kara was keenly aware of the rich scent of body odour trapped in all of her hidden crevices.

But Jerome wanted her to lift her arms. He held a bottle in his hand with his finger on the spray nozzle and he aimed it at her while he motioned for her to put her hands up. Kara put her hands on her head, like a criminal surrendering. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. The spray hit her body with a cold tingle that spread and lay on her skin, cloying and slick. Jerome worked steadily over her, coating her from her neck to her ankles.

‘Lube,’ Jerome said, turning her and spraying her back, bottom and legs. ‘You can use powder, but this –’ he smiled, spritzed the crevice of her buttocks and let the liquid dribble slowly into the crack of her arse ‘– I think this gives more pleasure.’

Then his hands were on her, surprisingly rough and warm. He brushed lightly over her skin, as though trying to warm her, slapping at her hips and sides, gliding gently over her breasts, moving so fast that Kara didn’t have time to protest or even register how his rough massage made her skin thrill all over.

‘OK. Let’s try this baby out.’

Jerome unwrapped the hanger and pulled aside the plastic to reveal his creation. It was purple – vivid blackcurrant purple – and shone like polished fruit. The dress held its shape even without a body to fill it, curving round at the hips and bust, tapering at the edges where it would fit tightly to her.

Kara nearly burst out laughing. ‘It’s a cartoon dress,’ she said, suddenly feeling ridiculous. ‘It doesn’t look real.’ Nervously, her eyes darted to Lina, but she was smiling and Kara relaxed. The dress was jiggling as Jerome removed the cocoon from its wrapping, the gleaming surface quivering like jelly, and although it was bizarre and surreal, she really had to touch it suddenly, like a kid reaching out for sweets.

Kara felt her legs gliding together as though they were oiled when she moved across the floor. When she pressed the rubbery sheeting of the dress between her fingers she felt it bounce a little, slippery and cold, almost like wet flesh. A faint plasticky smell rose from it, tangy and artificial. Despite her bemusement, Kara wanted this against her skin, wanted to feel herself encased in it.

Jerome helped her ease into the dress. She stepped into it, holding on to his shoulders for balance, and let him slide it inch by inch up over her hips, felt the tight, slick rubber pull at her skin and suck at her. Somehow she felt quite comfortable, even when he pushed the flat of his hand in between the dress and her body to drag it up, even though she could feel his breath hot on her side, panting as they worked together to shoehorn her into the crazy outfit.

It hugged every part of her body, stretching tight over her curves and following every dip and crevice as though it were painted directly onto her skin. Her breasts and belly and ass were cupped and moulded, squeezed into the hourglass form, constricting her breath and pulling at her in an all-enveloping
embrace.
Jerome led her to a mirror, Kara shuffling in tiny steps because the skirt restricted her movement, and when she looked up, her eyes widened.

‘I look like a computer graphic,’ she said, ‘not real.’

‘Perfect,’ Lina said, approaching from behind and placing her hands, with their long painted nails, on Kara’s hips.

Where the dress stretched tight, it reflected a distorted image of the studio around them, and when Jerome spritzed more, it gleamed. Kara watched in the mirror as he worked more lubricant onto the dress and was so mesmerised she hardly noticed he was rubbing her breasts, her nipples, her hips through the rubber. The wetness between her legs had smeared on her thigh, merged with her sweat and the spray Jerome had applied and she was all liquid, pliable and taut and rippling, trapped in the dress and glistening with ripe sexiness.

‘But where the hell would I wear this?’ Kara asked, turning to check the eye-popping curves the dress gave her, lifting herself up on bare feet to curl into a Jessica Rabbit ‘S’ shape. The slit from neck to crotch showed a long pale wedge of flesh, her breasts straining at the latex and threatening to spill out of the dress altogether.

‘We’ll take some pictures here,’ Lina murmured, dragging her palms across Kara’s flanks, all the while holding eye contact in the mirror. ‘Jerome’s studio’s set up next door.’

Just then, a tinny blast of music sounded from her pocket and Lina pulled her phone out and flipped it open.

‘Good,’ she said, a smile dancing over her lips, ‘I’ll send Jerome down.’

Lina was holding Kara’s chin and smudging dark-crimson lipstick over her lower lip when the door opened. Jerome approached them, rubbing his hands, nodding at the sight of Kara sprawled across his white leather sofa in the ludicrous
dress.
And although Lina held her chin with a firm grip, Kara twisted round, curious to see who was behind him.

‘Jon?’ she asked, bewildered.

‘Wow,’ he said, shoving his hands in his back pockets and bowing his head. He was wearing a red T-shirt and blushing to match it. His eyes didn’t leave Kara, not for a moment. ‘You look …’

‘Why’s Jon here?’ Kara demanded, looking straight at Lina.

The other woman slipped the lid back on her lipstick and shrugged. ‘Symmetry,’ she said simply. ‘The two of you look good together.’

In the background, Jerome was setting up a tripod, screwing a camera onto the base and sweeping the lens over Kara where she lay on the sofa. He fired off a few quick shots, the bursts of the flash half-blinding Kara so that she froze, uncertain, with the feeling she was trapped somehow and not in control of what was happening.

‘Just try to relax,’ Jerome said, ‘and let Lina direct you.’ He stood and folded his arms across his chest. Beside him, Kara noticed that Jon was looking at her curiously, almost as though they didn’t know each other. ‘You should be pleased to be working with her,’ Jerome continued. ‘Very clever woman, Lina, very clever.’ He smiled again, and walked over to the high windows to draw the blinds.

10

‘THAT’S IT, LEAN
over towards her. Turn your chin a little. More.’

Jerome had put a CD in the stereo and a lush string symphony spilled from the speakers. The music bounced around the high echoing space of his living room, softened the edges of Kara’s nerves and lulled her into silence.

Of course they’d need promo shots. And she might feel slightly ridiculous in her porn-star get-up, but she had to admit at the same time she also felt curiously sexy. Confused, a little dazed and yet weak-at-the-knees sensual.

She lay back on the giant velveteen cushions and allowed Lina to direct her, meanwhile listening to the strings and the tight clicks of the camera shutter. Jon hovered behind the sofa, holding himself stiff and awkward as Jerome took the shots.

‘You really need to loosen up,’ Lina said. ‘Come down on the floor here, Jon, in front of Kara.’ He did her bidding silently, sinking onto his knees on the zebra-print carpet and flicking his hair out of his eyes. His usual light-heartedness had evaporated, and Kara almost reached out to touch his shoulder, give him a little shake. Something held her back. Jon had avoided her eyes since he’d arrived, his gaze darting over her rubber-clad body but quickly sliding away, and where his delicate lips would normally twist into a smile so easily, today his expression remained dark and unreadable.

‘Oh, they’ll love it, Jon,’ Lina said. ‘Just curl in a little closer. Your hand on her hip, maybe? Yes. Now look at her.

‘Delicious naif, isn’t he?’ she asked Jerome, who was pushing the tripod closer and refocusing.

‘Hm,’ he agreed, straightening and running a hand over his shaved head. ‘We should maybe work with that.’

‘Props?’

‘Good idea.’ Jerome nodded and disappeared into the other room, leaving the others hanging in uncomfortable tension. Jon’s hand was as heavy as lead on Kara’s thigh and under the dress she was growing hot and sticky.

‘You’re doing wonderfully,’ Lina said, dropping into the armchair facing them. ‘This is just what we need to sell The New Rakes – tension, a little shock value, lashings of sex.’

‘And here I was thinking we should be working on the new songs,’ Jon muttered, pulling at a loose thread in the rug under him.

Lina ignored him. ‘Of course, it’ll all feel a little strange at first, but trust me, you’re in professional hands. If you want to win, you need to play the game.’ She gave them a twenty-four-carat smile. ‘And I know the rules.’

Kara flinched. The mention of rules tended to bring her out in a rash. Part of her wished she was back in Tam’s bedsit with the band, cranking out rough and ready songs, listening for the hook and arguing with Tam about guitar riffs. She was ready to tell Lina where she could stick her rules, but at that moment, Lina’s phone rang. She stood up to take the call, talking fast and loud, as though there was no one else in the room.

‘This is kind of weird, isn’t it?’ Kara said to Jon.

He still hadn’t looked at her and although he was sitting only inches away he kept his back turned when he spoke. ‘I don’t trust her,’ he said, watching Lina as she gestured wildly with her free hand and jabbered into her phone.

‘Fair enough, Batman. But I guess it’s part of the deal. You
know,
get on the merry-go-round, sell your soul, become a superstar. The end.’ Kara shrugged, trying to keep the mood light.

‘I just don’t like the way she’s ordering us around.’

‘Yeah, well you’re not the one in rubber,’ Kara said, and watched as a faint crimson blush swarmed over the back of Jon’s neck, ruddying his china-white skin. Was he actually that innocent? She smirked before she could help herself. ‘D’you like it?’ she asked, wriggling further down the seat until she was close enough to smell his shampoo. Pursing her lips, she blew into the nape of his neck, where the hairline trailed to a point. He shuddered and Kara laughed quietly, just as Jerome walked in with a cardboard box.

‘Should be something we can use in here,’ he said, laying the box at Lina’s feet.

She glanced inside it, snapping her phone shut at the same time. ‘Oh, Jerome,’ she said, ‘this is wonderful. Give me a hand?’ She pointed at Jon, who got slowly to his feet. Lina lifted out a coil of black rope, knotted into a neat bundle. Kara felt a little thrill rush up her spine as she watched. This was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. Lina was smiling at Jon as she unwound the rope, her movements slow and deliberate.

Kara could tell she was enjoying herself from the way she pulled the rope through her hand and from the way she looked at Jon with lowered eyelids. The rope fell silently to the floor and Lina doubled it over, held on to one end, tensing it between her hands. Finally, she reached out and pinched the hem of Jon’s T-shirt between her finger and thumb, lifting it so that Kara caught a glimpse of his belly, pale as paper, flat and perfectly hairless.

‘Uh,’ Jon started to protest, shrinking away from Lina’s curling fingers.

‘Come on now. Kara’s not been shy, has she? Let me tie you.’

Lina motioned with her hand, a little beckoning gesture, asking Jon to take off his T-shirt. When he did, sullen and kind of helpless, pulling it over his head in one movement, Kara swallowed. A half-naked man in the room made her feel somehow that she was also a layer more exposed. Jon’s body was slim and long and pale, with baby-pink nipples and muscles drawn in delicate pencil line across his abdomen and along his arms. He shrank away as Lina moved closer, squeezing and releasing his fist so that the tendons in his arm flexed.

‘OK?’ Lina asked. ‘Remember, we’re just play-acting. You can stop anytime you want to.’ She smiled. ‘But I don’t expect you will.’

For a moment nobody moved. Kara realised she was chanting to herself, in her head: Do it, do it, do it. At last Jon nodded and held his wrists up readily, the gesture making it look for a moment as if he was begging to be tied.