Natasha fingered a gold wedding band in her pocket. She would wear it when she wasn’t on the prowl. She signaled the bartender for another round. She wondered vaguely whether she was losing her touch. Normally at least three men would’ve offered to buy her drinks by now. She quickly downed a shot and was about to down a fourth when she felt a hand over her own on the bar. A deep voice said, “Maybe you should slow down honey.”
The bartender hadn’t been detected by Natasha’s radar but now she found herself looking into dark eyes. He was cute. He was more than cute. He was muscled in a lean way, and clearly fit. A tattooed snake wound its way around his neck, disappearing behind his left ear.
“Oh yeah,” said Natasha, “and why’s that?”
“I don’t want you to be too wasted when I fuck you.”
“What makes you think you’re going to fuck me?” teased Natasha. She was pleased. This was the game she liked to play best.
“I don’t think. I know.”
He grinned at her, his black eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’m off in five.”
“I don’t even know your name,” said Natasha.
“It’s Mike. What’s yours?”
“Elizabeth,” said Natasha. “Elizabeth Harding.”
Mike lived above a Chinese restaurant on Spadina Avenue. When he wasn’t working at the hotel he was a personal trainer, helping fat businessmen lose their bellies. Natasha could believe it. Mike’s buttocks appeared to be made of steel. She got a good look at them as he led her up a steep flight of stairs into his apartment.
As soon as they were inside, he pushed her against the wall, kissing her ferociously. His fingers wasted no time finding their way to her damp crotch.
“Easy baby,” said Natasha. “You wanna fuck me you gotta wear one of these.”
She reached in her purse and handed him a condom. He rapidly folded it over his large erection. Natasha noticed his penis was also tattooed with a snake.
“What’s with the serpents?” she murmured.
Mike slammed into her, coming more quickly than she liked.
“Sex,” he panted. “They represent sex…and sin.”
The sex she’d just experienced was boring but Natasha wasn’t done yet.
“Sin,” repeated Natasha. “Now there’s an interesting word. Are you a sinner Mike?”
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s a sin to leave a girl like me unsatisfied,” she purred.
Mike looked concerned. “That was no good for you?”
“Let’s just say you’ve given me an appetizer,” said Natasha. “Now I think I’m ready for the main course.”
“Alright,” Mike agreed enthusiastically. “And where would you like the main course to take place Elizabeth?”
Natasha looked around the apartment. The front room contained a double bed with an old-fashioned iron frame.
“That’ll do,” she said indicating the bed. “Nicely.”
Natasha sauntered into the bathroom and relieved herself. She decided to take a look in the medicine cabinet. Mike might have a few drugs she could help herself to. Nothing. He was Mr. Fitness. Ah, but what were these. Natasha picked up a pack of birth control pills. Mike had a girlfriend. He was a cheater. Natasha hated cheaters. Well. Well. Well. This was an unexpected turn for poor Mike and his innocent girlfriend. She’d make sure Mike got what he deserved.
Natasha stripped out of her clothes but kept her high heels on. She sauntered back into the front of the apartment.
“Go lay on the bed Mike,” she ordered. “Naked.”
Natasha used her bossiest tone. She could see him getting hard again. She’d guessed right. Mike liked to be told what to do. Mike did as she said, all the while admiring Natasha’s firm breasts and tight ass, made even sexier by the high heels she was wearing.
Natasha sat down beside him on the bed, brushing a lock of her hair over his nipples, making them stiffen. She leaned down and gave each one a tiny nip.
“Elizabeth thinks you’re indeed a sinner and that you deserve to be punished.”
“You’re right. I do,” said Mike.
Natasha gave the tip of his erection a flick with her long, red nail.
“Tell me,” she said, “do you have any restraints?”
“Restraints?”
“Yeah, you know…handcuffs?’
“Er, no,” he said.
Natasha kissed him, giving his lip a gentle bite.
“Lucky for you Mike. I never travel without ‘em.”
As soon as Natasha had Mike’s hands shackled to an iron bedpost, she decided to take a look around. She found what she was looking for in a drawer, a woman’s scarf. She tied it over Mike’s eyes so he was blindfolded. His erection was massive.
“This is some kinky shit Elizabeth,” he panted.
Natasha was momentarily annoyed by Mike’s continuing use of ‘Elizabeth’, that fucking red-haired bitch who’d stolen Declan Thomas from her. She didn’t know how she’d do it yet but she’d make sure Elizabeth suffered. Meantime, there was Mike to deal with.
“Yeah, kinky shit,” said Natasha. She ran her tongue up the length of Mike’s shaft.
“Got any candles Mike? I think I need a little atmosphere.”
“Yeah, there’s one on the table over there,” he said breathing heavily.
"So Mike,” she asked when she returned with the lit candle. She placed it on a bedside table.“There’s some pills in the bathroom. You trying not to get pregnant or what?”
Mike lay completely still.
“Oh shit. I forgot. They’re Cindy’s.”
Natasha straddled him and began moving slowly up and down, letting her moistness slicken his dick.
“Cindy huh? She your girlfriend Mike?”
Mike moaned.
“Yeah, well, sort of,” he said.
“I’ll bet Cindy wouldn’t be at all happy with what you’re doing now would she Mike?”
Mike groaned.
Natasha leaned across to the bedside table and grabbed the lit candle. She turned it to one side and let a drop of hot wax fall on Mike’s chest.
“Ow,” he cried. “What was that?”
“Just a little taste of what’s to come Mikey.”
Natasha let another drop of hot wax fall, this time onto one of Mike’s pink nipples.
“Christ, stop it you crazy bitch,” he said, struggling against the handcuffs.
“Tsk, tsk,” said Natasha. “I’m not sure you should be calling me names in your present position.”
“Undo these handcuffs right now,” he ordered.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” murmured Natasha. “Not when I’ve got you exactly where I want you.” She let another drop of hot wax fall on his chest. Mike lay still.
“What is it you want? Do you want money? There’s some in the top left hand drawer of the desk. Just let me go,” pleaded Mike.
“Oh no, Mikey. I don’t want money. I want power over you and now I’ve got it. You gave it to me remember?” said Natasha.
Natasha began running her tongue up and down his shaft, stopping to swirl her tongue around the very tip. Mike was rigid.
“Just fuck me you crazy cunt and go.”
“Now Mikey. That’s no way to talk to a girl. And because you just used that bad ‘c’ word, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”
Natasha took a butt plug from her purse and lubricated it with a jar of Vaseline beside the bed. As he felt Natasha reaching between his buttocks, Mike began frantically kicking.
“This will be so much easier, and so much more enjoyable if you simply relax,” cooed Natasha. “And then, just maybe, I’ll leave.”
Mike let forth an anguished moan. His lower half was now twisted sideways so Natasha had no trouble inserting the plug into his ass. She pushed him flat and straddled him. His hard-on had subsided but soon regained itself when she started licking him. She took another condom from her purse and slipped it over his erection. She lowered onto it and start
ed playing furiously, with herself. Within minutes she had come. Feeling Natasha’s spasms and groaning loudly, Mike came as well. He hoped to hell this ordeal was over.
“There now,” said Natasha, getting off him and putting on her clothes. “That’s better. It’s not just enough to stick it in a girl Mike. Sometimes you have to use a little imagination.”
“Elizabeth,” Mike whimpered. “Please undo me now.”
Natasha dropped the key to the handcuffs on the nightstand. She gathered up her clothes, dressed, and was soon out the door. Going down the long flight of stairs onto Spadina Avenue, Natasha passed a young blonde girl struggling in the front door with a bag full of groceries. Natasha took a chance.
“Cindy?” she asked as the girl made her way past.
The girl stopped.
“Yes,” she said. “Do I know you?”
“Not really,” said Natasha. “But I know Mike better than you possibly could. He’s a bit tied up right now but soon he’ll be all yours again. G’night.”
Leaving Cindy looking puzzled, Natasha pushed the front door open onto Spadina Avenue. She hailed a taxi and laughed aloud. What a great night it had been.
The next day, Natasha decided on a little shopping spree but first she booked her flight. She clicked on the Air Canada website and bought a first-class ticket to Glasgow. There seemed to be no connecting flights to Inverness but she discovered she could easily take a train. That might be fun. Next, she booked herself a rental car. After a bit more Googling on the Scottish tourism site, she found a place to stay just a few miles from Handa, the island where Declan Thomas had perished. Now she’d had time to think about it, she decided it was good that Declan had died. He was extremely useful to her as a memory. Her book would be a best seller, she was certain of it. .
CHAPTER TWENTY- ONE
Joan knew Eleanor Springfield from her book club and suggested to Elizabeth that it might be a good idea to enroll the twins in Miss Springfield’s Academy. The school wasn’t far from her house and had a sterling reputation. It also offered a full day pre-kindergarten program that would be perfect for Jack and Camille. Elizabeth agreed and made an appointment.
Miss Springfield was a tall, thin woman with a stern demeanor that came from telling children off; however, she clearly liked them because when she talked about her program, and how it benefited little ones, her narrow face lit up.
“At the academy we refuse to treat children as if they are tiny morons,” she told Elizabeth. “They’re sponges. Their brains can easily absorb all manner of information including languages. We start off teaching in both French and Spanish, then later move on to Italian and German.”
“Do they learn English as well?”
“Goodness me yes,” said Miss Springfield looking momentarily offended. “They learn proper grammar, parts of speech, how to spell and how to parse a sentence.”
“Great,” said Elizabeth wondering if she herself could parse a sentence. Likely not.
Miss Springfield continued, “as far as foreign languages go, they get a basic grounding in all four and are then encouraged to pick one in order to become fluent.”
“That’s marvelous,” said Elizabeth. She imagined the twins arguing in German and not being able to intervene. “And what about the other subjects, math, science, history?” asked Elizabeth.
Miss Springfield beamed.
“All well taken care of. Classical music has been shown to benefit learning so we have it piped into all the classrooms. Learning to play an instrument is compulsory, as is dancing, both good for development of mind and body.”
“I see,” said Elizabeth impressed. “When could they start?”
Miss Springfield consulted a calendar.
“You’re in luck Ms. Harding. It is Ms. Harding, not Mrs.?”
“No it’s Ms.,” said Elizabeth.
“May I inquire as to your relationship status?”
“Widowed,” said Elizabeth. She added, “Well, sort of widowed. We hadn’t actually married although we’d been planning on it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Miss Springfield. "You’re young to have experienced such a loss.”
“Yes,” agreed Elizabeth.
Miss Springfield let the subject drop.
“I have just two openings left in the pre-k program. Your children could start tomorrow.”
“Good,” said Elizabeth in some relief. The twins were requiring more attention from her than she felt she could adequately give these days.
“We don’t require uniforms for the first year, just to let the children get comfortable. After that they must wear our requisite school blazer and black skirt or pants, with a tie,” said Miss Springfield. “We find uniforms egalitarian. They impart a sense of belonging. It eliminates clothing one-upmanship, particularly among the girls.”
“I agree.”
“Now, the fees. We require them up front. In the pre-k , the cost is ten thousand dollars per year, per child,” said Miss Springfield.
Elizabeth extracted a cheque book from her purse and wrote out the required amount. It was certainly expensive but she hoped it would be worth it.
“One last thing,” said Miss Springfield. “We require a photograph of every adult that is allowed to pick them up. I would also like a photograph of their father.”
Elizabeth glanced up sharply. “Whatever for? I told you he’s…”
“Yes my dear. It’s just a preventive measure against any other man claiming to be their father.” Miss Spingfield gave a gentle sigh. “We’ve had a couple of nasty situations with divorcing parents.”
The idea of providing a photo of Declan pleased Elizabeth. It was almost as if she could tell herself he was still alive and would be coming to pick up their children.
“That won’t be a problem,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll bring the photos tomorrow. Jack and Camille miss their father so much. He was Declan Thomas, the rock musician. Do you know him?”
Miss Springfield shook her head,
“I’m afraid popular culture is not my thing at all. I don’t pay any heed to it. Junk food for the mind.”
Elizabeth couldn’t resist a smile. Miss Springfield certainly had definite opinions.
“I’ll bring Jack and Camille in tomorrow.”
“Nine a.m. sharp,” said Miss Springfield. “And no iPads or other distracting devices. How can children learn social skills when they’re focused on a computer game all the time? Lazy parenting is what I call it.”
“Neither of them has an iPad,” said Elizabeth although she’d been considering buying one to keep them occupied. Lazy parenting. How about desperate parenting, she thought.
Miss Springfield stood up and shook Elizabeth’s hand.
“Very well, Ms. Harding. I look forward to meeting Jack and Camille tomorrow.”
“Wonderful,” said Elizabeth.
“And don’t forget the pictures,” said Miss Springfield, “otherwise Jack and Camille won’t be allowed to leave. They’ll have to stay here forever.” Miss Springfield trilled with laughter at her own weak joke.
“I won’t,” said Elizabeth. “I’m glad you’re careful.”
That afternoon, Elizabeth went hunting for a place for her and the children. They’d imposed on Joan long enough. Joan, a tidy woman, had been extremely good about the inevitable mess of the children’s toys. Now it was time to give back her privacy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Callum rarely wore shoes. Declan marveled at the man’s feet. Not only were they large and leathery but his toes also curled in a prehensile claw-like way. Fionnaugh’s feet also had this strange quality. Declan soon discovered it was a useful adaptation.
One morning in August, when the weather had been calm and clear, Callum and Fionnaugh set off on an expedition. Around their neck, they each wore a wide pouch of sacking. Curious about the outing, Declan accompanied them. It quickly became clear they were heading to the precipitous rocky cliffs at the far end of the island where seabirds whee
led and screeched in the thousands.
The very edge of the cliff was a sandy, grass covered ledge. Callum indicated Declan should lie down and peer over. The drop to the rocky sea below was interspersed with tall columns like turrets. Theview was dizzying. Declan, prone on the ground, felt his heart thumping. He feared he might’ve have fallen if he’d been standing. Callum and Fionnaugh had no such fear. They turned around, dropping nimbly to a rocky ledge several feet below. Callum went in one direction while Fionnaugh took the other. They made their way along the cliff face, stopping at various points along the way, collecting eggs from the nests of outraged birds.
Declan stared in amazement at the skill and agility Callum and Fionnaugh exhibited. Their balance and nimbleness seemed both super-human and animal at the same time. Declan watched slack-jawed as they used their claw-like toes to cling onto the rocks to steady themselves. After half an hour they clambered easily back to where Declan lay, proudly showing him their cache of eggs. It was nothing short of miraculous.
Even though Moira wouldn’t permit Declan to leave the island on Callum’s boat, Declan found ways to make himself useful. He gathered eggs amongst tall grasses, where Moorhens nested. Callum demonstrated how to make a tiny hole in the egg’s shell with a twig in order to suck the sweetness out. He also fashioned a slingshot for Declan using only a length of rope with a small leather pouch. Declan made use of stones he picked up from the beach as projectiles. He practiced for hours on end until his aim was deadly. The first time he bagged a rabbit, he was triumphant and at the same time distressed as he watched the rabbit’s body twitch through its final throes of death.
Dragonfly of Venus Page 10
