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“Jealous, are we?”
“No.” It was only half a lie.
Martine looked down at her with sultry eyes. “You know, you’re very good being this coy. I’d be pissed as hell if it were me.”
“Well, I’m not you,” Tessa reminded her.
“I know,” she replied triumphantly. “And I’ll be on his arm tonight, I’ll be in his bed, and I’ll eat breakfast from his plate in the morning,” she said, waving her ass near Tessa’s face. “Have a nice night.” She swaggered out the door, leaving traces of her spicy perfume in the air.
The bitch returned in the morning with her face beaming, though she said little about her escapade. Tessa couldn’t be sure if that was because sex with Miles was indescribable, or disappointing. She decided that she would rather not know—especially since her body was screaming for some completion, besides what she gave herself with her own hand, and she didn’t like hearing about what she couldn’t have.
As Tessa climbed the long stairway toward Miles’ garret on the third floor, the only thing she could think about was how much she wanted to be spirited away into this lost world where nothing made sense, nothing was normal and nothing was logical, where everything was a function of pure carnal satisfaction. She liked thumbing her nose at rules that condemned her for her inborn desires. “Let them have their morality, and have no fun,” she would say to herself. While the straight world was busy being desperate and unsatisfied, she realizing herself in the bosom of utter, sweet decadence.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she was almost out of breath. The door to the garret ajar, she pushed it open, surprised to see that the scene inside had changed, in much the same way that a theatre set changes with a new act of a play.
There was a darker hue about the large room. The drapes no longer soft white, now deep cranberry-colored velvet. The bed on the platform, once draped in white, was now also covered by a darker shade of cloth, a bedspread with a muted paisley design. The day was overcast, so the light entering through the massive skylights was gloomy at best. And there was one distinct addition to the room: a strange apparatus hanging from the ceiling, a rope dangling from a heavy hook, with leather straps hanging down from that. She shivered know that this was for her, but her fear did not deter her excitement.
A quiet comforting beauty accompanied the new arrangement. She marveled at the changes, knowing the atmosphere suited Miles’ purposes, mystical and enigmatic like Miles himself. Her body responded with a gentle erotic rush, even though she knew that there was something ominous about this unexpected transformation.
Hearing a shuffling sound behind her, Tessa turned to see a strange man. Across the room opposite the bed, he was setting up a video camera and a bank of lights.
“Hello?” she said. She approached him cautiously.
“Tessa?” he guessed.
“Yes.”
“Hector,” he introduced himself, politely holding out his hand for a conventional handshake.
Tessa nodded, still puzzled by his presence. She gazed about the room. “It’s changed.”
“Like it?” he asked.
“Yes, I guess I do,” she said, letting eyes drift form corner to corner to corner. Returning her attention to the stranger and his video camera, she concluded only one thing. “You’re going to film me?”
“Yes he is,” Tessa heard Miles’ voice answer the question, coming from behind her in the direction of the bathroom. She turned to see him walking toward her, beaming broadly. He was wearing a black silk shirt and pair of black pants, his hair tied neatly in a pony tail, and the ring in his ear gleamed. Oh! How she’d missed him and this garret!
“Are you still going to sketch me?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“But this?” She gestured to the lights and the video camera.
“Hector’s going to record what we do… when I want him to,” he said while wrapping an arm around Tessa’s waist and walking her to the bed.
“But why?”
“Isn’t the thought exciting?”
A little snicker crossed her face. She wondered if he was joking. “Just to excite me?”
“It’ll be fun,” he assured her. “Then, I can watch the video and have you any time I want.”
“But you can have me anytime you want now.”
“I know, but I want other people to see you too—and there’s a decent market for porn with a genuine sadistic, masochistic flavor.”
“My God, I never thought of us that way.”
