Don't Be Shy 14 (Patreon)

Her hands trembled, but Lena opened the door to the apartment. She shut it behind it, then locked it. Only then did she call out.

“Kara? I’d like to hear from you if you’re in here.”

“I’m here,” Kara called back to her.

In the living room. Still, Lena didn’t go to her. She went through the rigmarole of undressing from the city. Of taking off her coat and her hat, stepping out of her shoes, taking her kimono from the rack and putting it on over her light blouse and pencil skirt. She still didn’t feel settled, but it was much more proper.

She went into the living room and found Kara. The cheerleader had recently showered. She still wore a bathrobe; her face showed no make-up and her curly mop of dank hair had to have dried where she’d let it hang. She wasn’t doing anything. Just sitting on the couch, staring into space.

Lena didn’t know what to do with her. She sat down on the couch beside her and like they were on a seesaw, Kara straightened up, suddenly realizing herself. She combed through her messy hair with plain white fingernails.

“Oh. Oh, I meant to fix myself up—you’re home already—I sat down to think and I, ha, I didn’t get much thinking done, even though I thought a lot. I didn’t worry you, did I? I’m really sorry if I worried you—”

Lena held up her hand. “Bad memories?”

“Yes,” Kara exhaled.

“It takes a lot of work not to remember them, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Lena scooted closer on the couch. She stopped when her shoulder was touching Kara’s. “I didn’t intend for there to be any kind of… unpleasantness.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But what… led to it?”

“The spanking,” Kara admitted.

“You didn’t tell me that would be a problem.”

“I didn’t know it would be.” Kara hung her head. “God, you deserve… you’re paying me enough that I… thought it wouldn’t be a big deal…”

“Kara, I’m not angry. Look at me. Look at me when I’m talking to you, Kara.”

Kara turned her head.

“Do I look like someone who doesn’t understand boundaries?” Lena asked through her mask.

“I just wanted to give you what you needed,” Kara said, voice small.

“You can’t give me what’s not yours to give. Kara, how would you feel if I told you there would be no more spanking in our… arrangement?”

“Relieved,” Kara admitted.

“And is there anything else that might prove a problem?”

Kara shook her head. “No. I promise. It was just…” She put her face in her hands. “You’re nothing like him.”

“I know I’m not.”

“I was enjoying that. I was enjoying it a lot. Then something in me just wouldn’t—”

“Kara, you’re upsetting yourself. I believe we’ve settled the issue. Now I want you to get dressed and make yourself presentable. We’re going to watch a movie.”

“A movie?” Kara repeated. She stood up and turned to face Lena. “You’re going to pay me five thousand dollars to watch a movie with me?”

Lena sprawled back on the couch. “Oh, I won’t be making it that easy on you. I like old movies, Kara. Some of them even have subtitles.”

Kara smirked for a moment, then grew serious. “I want to make it up to you… you called me to help you out with your issues and here we are, dealing with mine…”

“I like your issues. They’re easier than mine.”

“Still, I…” Kara knit her fingers together. “I don’t want you to pay me tonight. I didn’t earn it.”

Lena cocked her head. “Look at that. I’m trying to spoil someone with a genuine Protestant work ethic.”

“I know you were worried about me—”

“You wish to believe I was worried about you.”

“Are you saying you weren’t?”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Kara, I’m your mistress. My concern for you is… tempered.”

“Tempered by what?”

“By the knowledge that we only have so much time together. That this is, in the end, about my pleasure and your money.”

“I…” Kara began before biting her lip. “Then why did you care so much that I came for you?”

“My pleasure is complicated. I don’t like the thought that you’re not enjoying yourself.”

Kara shifted her weight hard onto one leg, like she was stomping without lifting her foot. “So it’s not just your pleasure.”

“It’s complicated,” Lena stressed. “Love is simple. Two people want to be together. You want to be here because you’re being paid. That will always be part of the dynamic. I will never be loved.”

“That’s not—”

“I didn’t say,” Lena interrupted, “that it was a state of affairs that held no appeal to me. If I loved you, I would’ve been very worried today. Since I don’t—”

Lena held her hands up.

Kara turned her head to the side. Looking away from Lena. “Do you want me to love you? Even when you—when you aren’t going to love me?”

“I want you to do your job,” Lena answered. “Get dressed. Put your face on. Come back and sit with me.”

Kara nodded. “I think I will take the five thousand after all.”

“I thought you might.”

***

I rap on the door—bang, bang, bang—and the speakeasy-like peephole slots open. I hold up Edmund’s medallion to the eyes staring out. The peephole shuts and the door swings open. The doorman has big muscles, but no idea how to drape them; he looks like a gorilla stuffed into a tuxedo. I nod to him. He nods back to me with what little neck he has. I walk past him and into the lobby.

I’ve never been in a brothel before. My imaginings of it are somewhere between old Playboy pictorials and a Wild West saloon. The real thing looks about like a modeling agency, disturbingly so. There are art prints on the wall… all of them revolving around the female form… the walls are dark rosewood, the carpet is gray.

It’s all upscale corporate, down to the black leather chairs in the waiting room, the sweeping front desk that could’ve been scavenged from a bank, the cheery receptionists. There are two, a blonde and a brunette. They shut up their gossiping as I stroll in.

“Hello there,” the blonde calls. “Is this your first time with us? I think I’d remember you…”

I find it all a bit off-putting. Her skirt is a little too high, her V-neck a little too low, her manner more like a Hooters waitress than the temp she’s almost dressing as. Still, I take it in stride.

“Yes, it is.” I show her the medallion. “I’m in town for about a week on business and I don’t feel like puttering around the hotel bar, looking to get picked up. Friend of mine said that if I come here, well…”

“Oh, you will be,” the brunette assures me. “You’re familiar with our rates?”

“Yes, and I’m not too interested in the value menu.”

They titter appreciatively, but if they were good enough actresses to pretend to be charmed, they wouldn’t be working here.

I take out my roll from my pocket—it’s my entire savings, but it’s not like my bank account isn’t going to be frozen before this is done anyway—and peel off five hundred dollars.

The girls aren’t good enough actresses to be blasé about a new big spender either. They gawk at the wad of bills as it goes back into my pocket.

“There was this girl—” I laugh disarmingly. “I hate to say she was recommended, but I’m told she was the best. Redhead, tall, tattoo on her left shoulder…”

“Gina!” The blonde pipes up. The money I’m flashing has her eager to be of assistance.

“Well, if you know her, think you can arrange an introduction?”

The blonde checks a ledger in front of her. There’s no computers here, no cameras, no electronic trails. Funny how luxurious it is to be low-tech.

“Yes, Gina’s available,” she says. She looks at the cash in my hand. “And that should cover it.”

I hand the five hundred over, flashing her a smile. She bats her eyelashes. The brunette hands me a room key. It’s an actual key, not a card.

“Would you like to set a wake-up call?” she asks.

“I’m sure I’ll be out soon, if it means seeing you again.”