Calliope's Master

by Melinda Barron

  “Wanna try that again?” the man said. He wiggled a wooden spoon in front of the woman’s face.

  “Sir Buddy?” the woman said after a pause. More laughter. This time Calliope recognized Silas’ voice as he joined in the merriment.

  The man swung the spoon back and it landed on the woman’s bottom. She jumped, but Calliope watched as her eyes closed in obvious pleasure. Jealously ripped through her, and she stepped to the side of the entryway not wanting anyone to see her watching.

  Life wasn’t fair. She clenched her fists as the man ordered the woman to lift her skirt and drop her panties. The sound of the wood striking bare flesh reached Calliope’s ears and her body reacted instantly: nipples tightening, clit twitching.

  She gasped for air as she imagined herself being spanked. Damn, she wanted a good hard whipping, but how was that supposed to happen when her mind and body couldn’t connect?

  Justin had done all the right things. He’d warmed her up, talked to her, gotten her in just the right frame of mind. Yet, she’d still cried out in real pain when the whip had kissed her flesh.

  Damn Henry for dying on her. If he were still here, they could join the party. She reminded herself that he hadn’t died on purpose, but that didn’t stop the anger she still felt from time to time. He’d promised to be with her, always.

  Fresh tears threatened but she blinked them away. She shouldn’t have come here. She wasn’t ready for it.

  Bullshit. Buck up and be a real woman again. The words reverberated in her mind, and she gasped. The voice sounded just like Jolie telling her she had to start living again, she had to find her way back into the real world.

  “Damn you, Jolie,” she said, even as she knew her agent was right. She couldn’t sit in the dark forever, watching movies of things that she could be experiencing again if she would just allow herself to live.

  “Calliope?”

  She turned her head to find Silas standing in the doorway. “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine. I just didn’t want to interrupt… you know.” She felt her cheeks heat. She waved her hand toward the kitchen even as she looked out the window.

  Silas chuckled. “Nella would have loved it. She’s happiest when Phillip puts her on display like that. Come on in.”

  She turned back and nodded, trying not to react when she stepped in front of him and he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her.

  “Hi!” The woman’s cheerful greeting gave Calliope something to think about, rather than the man behind her. “I’m Nella.”

  “Calliope.” She gave a small wave, then mentally kicked herself, something she was doing a lot of lately. You didn’t wave to people you were doing business with; you shook their hands.

  “Phillip Wells.” Nella’s husband held out his hand, Calliope shook it. Then she offered her hand to Nella, who accepted it with a smile.

  “Welcome to Augstown,” the couple said in unison. Nella snapped her fingers, then pointed to her husband. “Jinx, buy me a drink.”

  “You got it.” He smacked her bottom as he moved toward a refrigerator. “Calliope, can I offer you a beer, or a glass of wine? Or something softer?”

  “Wine would be good.” It will help relax me. “Red, if you have it open.”

  “If we don’t, we’ll open it for you,” Silas said. He indicated a barstool near the kitchen island. “Have a seat.”

  He took the stool next to her, then reached into a basket of toast triangles. “One of the things I want photographed is our wine cellar. It’s fully stocked, and it puts other hotels’ selections to shame, if I do say so myself.”

  Silas popped the triangle into his mouth. The sound of the crunch as he chewed reminded her of how hungry she was.

  “Try one,” he said after he’d swallowed. “Nella makes them with a secret blend of spices.”

  Calliope took one and bit into it. Her eyebrows lifted, and she nodded. “Delicious.”

  “Thanks.” Nella’s smile lit up her face with a shy smile. “I made lasagna, with roasted asparagus and almonds, and a salad with a vinaigrette. For dessert I made a chocolate and ricotta pie with an apricot glaze.”

  Calliope’s stomach rumbled, and they all laughed.

  “I’ll take that as approval of the menu,” Nella said. “And it’s almost ready.”

  “My Nella loves to cook.” Phillip put a glass of wine in front of Calliope, then stepped behind Nella. He grasped her hips and pulled her back into him. Calliope thought about the delicious feeling she would get when Henry would do that to her after he’d spanked her.

  “And it shows,” Nella said, patting her belly.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Phillip replied. He reached over her shoulder and captured a few of the toast triangles in his fingers. “So, Calliope, how was your flight?”

  Calliope sipped on her wine as they discussed her trip and the new fees airlines imposed on travelers. The conversation changed to backgrounds, and she found out that the Wellses were older than she’d thought, Nella at forty-two and Phillip at forty. They had two eighteen-year-old sons, twins, who had just stared college this fall.

  “They have empty-nest syndrome,” Silas said. “They sold their house and moved in here. Otherwise, we would have had to hire an on-site manager.”

  Nella announced that dinner was ready. Calliope offered to help her transfer dishes to the kitchen table, where they would be eating, but the older woman refused. She told her to relax and enjoy herself because she was sure Silas would work her hard over the next few weeks.

  “We thought this would be cozier,” Silas said as he held out a chair for her at the table. “We’ll use the dining room when the guests are here.”

  When they all were seated, Phillip offered a blessing and then Silas dished up the food, filling everyone’s plates from the hot dishes. The setting was relaxed, and Calliope found herself joining in the conversation with ease and forgetting her earlier distress about being back at the place where Henry died.

  She realized that right before Nella served dessert, and she felt guilty because she’d forgotten that her husband wasn’t there with them.

  You need to stop that. She took a large sip from her wine. Remember, life goes on and people face loss all the time. Her mother had told her that right before Henry’s funeral. Her parents had never been very emotional people. They kept their feelings inside and had raised their children to do the same. Neither of them had hugged her when she’d returned to Denver after Henry’s death. Her father had patted her on the shoulder, and her mother had handed her a batch of cookies and told her “things would be fine.”

  It was no small wonder it had been hard for her to learn to trust Henry. He’d teased her about the length of time it had taken for her to tell him how she felt, to explain what she wanted from him. Sometimes, she’d wondered why he’d bothered.

  Because he loved you, just like you loved him. Jolie is right when she says you’re dishonoring him by slipping back into the shell he worked so hard to get you out of.

  “Are you all right?” Silas was touching her arm, the pressure just enough to get her attention.

  “Fine, just enjoying the good food, and the wonderful company.” She hoped he accepted the explanation without pushing her.

  “Shall we take a walk after dinner, or do we want to bowl a few frames?” Silas was filling her glass again. “Or we can sit and discuss the book. I can show you what the other two photographers came up with and…”

  “Silas.” Nella set a plate of dessert in front of him. “For you.”

  Calliope was surprised to hear Silas chuckle. “I’m pushing it, aren’t I? We need to let you get used to your new surroundings, Calliope. We can start work in the morning. So, we go for bowling, or maybe a movie in the TV room.”

  “A movie sounds good,” Calliope replied. “I like anything except slasher movies.”

  She wasn’t ready to tour the grounds just yet. She knew it would have to happen sooner or later, she v
oted for later. They finished dessert, then settled in one of the parlors. Calliope tried not to notice how Nella and Phillip snuggled together in a chair.

  Watching the movie wasn’t easy as she thought how wonderful it would be to feel a man’s arms around her again—arms like the ones that belonged to the man sitting just one cushion over from her. She was sure Silas could wield a whip in such a way she would whimper with painful pleasure.

  Her clit twitched again, and she wiggled. She was wet. How embarrassing was that? The other three were watching the movie, and she could think of nothing but the taste of a whip.

  “I’m tired,” she said suddenly, standing. “I hope you don’t mind if I call it an early night.”

  Silas was on his feet before the words were barely out of her mouth. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, I just think I had too much good food and wine. I’m getting sleepy, and I want to be bright-eyed for the start of work tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk you up.”

  She held up her hand. The less time she spent with this man alone the more chance of her ignoring the pull of her body. Her little foray with Justin had proven she wasn’t ready for any sort of connection with another man. “No, thanks, I’ll be fine.”

  “I insist,” he said, standing far too close to her for her liking.

  “Afraid I’ll get lost?”

  “No, I just like your company.” His blunt statement made her gasp ever so slightly. She looked behind him to where Phillip and Nella were kissing, paying no attention to the other two people in the room. “Besides, it will give us a chance to plan out tomorrow.”

  It would be rude if she argued, so she just nodded. She prayed he would keep his hands off the small of her back. Should she say something to him about it, or would he think it strange that she was making a big deal out of being touched?

  Calliope headed for the door, and Silas fell into step behind her. He didn’t touch her, and she was grateful. Maybe she should take control of the situation now, keep the conversation on business.

  “I’d like to see the shots the other photographers took, and I think tomorrow would be a good time for it. That will keep me from duplicating their work.”

  “Sounds good,” Silas replied. “I have a computer set up in one of the spare rooms in my house. We’ve used that to upload everything. Tomorrow I’ll show you the room, and I’ll give you a key, so you can come and go as you like.”

  She wasn’t sure she liked that idea. It would be too private there. “There’s nowhere in the hotel to set up the computer?”

  “Everything’s been allocated for the guests.” They were at the elevators now, and he pressed the Up button. “Besides, I didn’t want to leave a hotel computer available for anyone to use. We have a computer room for them.”

  “Makes sense.” They stepped into the elevator, and Calliope looked up at the numbers as Silas closed the cage. She’d read somewhere that people looked at the numbers because they were uncomfortable about being in enclosed spaces with people they didn’t know.

  Since she knew Silas, Calliope deduced her glance upward showed him how nervous she was around him. That wasn’t a good thing. She needed to get ahold of herself, act like a professional.

  The elevator started to rise, and she kept her gaze on the dial. “What time tomorrow?”

  “You like to work early, or late?”

  “I’m not much of a morning person.”

  “Me neither.” The cage drew to a silent stop, and he pulled open the doors. “What say we meet around ten in the kitchen. We can have some coffee and discuss the day.”

  “Sounds perfect.” They were at her door now, she reached into her pocket for the old-fashioned key. “Thanks for walking me to my door.”

  “Any excuse to smell that wonderful perfume you’re wearing.”

  Her heart fluttered. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Until tomorrow.” He turned back toward the elevator, turning at the stairs. She could hear his muffled footsteps against the carpet runner as he moved down.

  Her palms were sweaty. Her clit pulsed. Her nipples were tight. She was never going to make it through this month without having sex with Silas Hope. It was obvious he wanted her, and her body craved what she knew he could provide. But she couldn’t do it, mentally. Her attempt with Justin proved that.

  How embarrassing would it be to have him order her to her knees, only to have her burst into tears and run screaming from the room? She couldn’t stand the humiliation. And the only way to avoid it would be to make herself unavailable to him.

  The pain of physical need would be easier to handle than the shame of breaking down in front of him.

  Calliope’s teeth clicked together, and she grasped the covers closer to her. When Henry was alive she’d slept naked, and she’d continued the habit while she was at home. But she’d brought one of his T-shirts to sleep in while she was here. It fit her tightly since she’d gained some weight, but it was a wonderful reminder of her husband.

  When she’d put it on last night, she could swear she smelled the woodsy cologne he always wore. She sniffed the cold air and sighed in appreciation.

  Why was it so cold in here? She closed her eyes and thought back to last night. After Silas had walked her up, she’d poured herself a glass of wine from the minibar; then she’d walked around the room, looking at the furniture and wall hangings in detail. Before going to bed, she’d opened the French doors in the bedroom to take in the cool evening air.

  She’d told herself that she would shut them before she fell asleep, something she’d obviously failed to do. Mornings in Augstown were too cold to have the windows, or should she say doors, open.

  Calliope sat up, then froze as she looked toward the doors. There was a figure there—a man. Her heart flew into a tizzy as she clutched the sheets. Silas and Phillip were the only ones around, except for the workers. But it was still dark outside, so she didn’t think they would be here yet.

  Her mouth opened, and she croaked out what might have been a scream, if her vocal cords hadn’t been frozen. Then the figure turned, and her heart caught in her throat.

  “It’s changed so much, hasn’t it?”

  “Henry.” She clutched the sheet tighter. After the first dream she’d had of him, when he’d told her not to die too, she hadn’t seen him. She’d felt him, imagined him, wished so badly that she could see him; and now, this was so… real.

  “They’ve gotten a lot done in a short amount of time. The village is impressive. You’ll have fun there.”

  “Henry, I…”

  His smile was bright, his eyes twinkling. He walked to the bed, and she tried not to run. Was she seeing his ghost, or was she dreaming? When he was at the edge of the bed, he held out a camera, the one he’d used the day he’d died. Although she’d brought the camera with her, she hadn’t used it since that day. The only time she’d touched it was to take out the battery.

  She stared at it, then looked up at the apparition of her late husband. “What?”

  He wiggled it, and she took it, staring at the image on the LED screen. It was the same thing he’d shown her the day he’d died. The photo was of a woman, in Puritan clothing. Bright beams of light surrounded her body.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.” He leaned over, and she could swear she felt his lips on her cheek. “I love you.”

  He backed away from her, and she sat up. “Henry, don’t leave me!”

  “Don’t forget, you owe Silas a blowjob.” Calliope recognized the grin on his face. She’d seen it quite often before he initiated a session. He licked his lips, and she almost laughed. Could ghosts be aroused? “One last one for me, little slut. Suck him good, baby. You know how I love to see you with a dick in your mouth.”

  When he reached the curtains, he faded, as if the softly moving fabric had wrapped him in a cocoon, one that sheltered him from her sight.

  Calliope looked down at her empty hands, then p
atted the covers around her. No camera.

  “Dreaming, that’s all. Just wishful thinking.” But it was the second vision she’d had about the photo of the Puritan woman. She bolted out of bed, hurrying to the camera bags. She found Henry’s camera and loaded it with batteries. It whirled to life, and she flipped to Review mode.

  There were photos of the hotel where they’d stayed; of her tied to the hotel bed, a dildo stuffed up her ass; of Henry’s cock in her mouth. Then the photos changed to the site. Pictures of the trees, the grass and one of her and Silas talking. Henry must have taken it before he’d walked into the weedy area.

  He’d focused on several patches of overgrown weeds, and then—Calliope almost dropped the camera. One of the frames featured a woman in Puritan dress, a halo of brilliant light surrounding her.

  “Holy shit.” Her hands shook as she traced her finger over the woman’s shape. “What the hell?” She flipped to the next photo. The only dominant feature in the frame was grass. “Henry, what? Did you see this woman before you died? Is she… I don’t know… Augstown’s version of the grim reaper? Are you trying to warn me to look out for her? Talk to me!”

  Silence.

  “You ass!” She wanted to throw the camera against the wall. “How dare you show up for seconds, throw some cryptic photo in my face, then disappear! Get back here!”

  No answer. Calliope swallowed her anger as she flipped back to the previous photo. The phantom female’s face was blurred, her expression unreadable. What did Henry think when he saw this woman? When he’d come out of the weeds he’d been calm, excited about what he’d seen. Why didn’t he run screaming from the overgrown grass, babbling about seeing a ghost?

  The answer was obvious. It was because he hadn’t seen her. The camera had picked up her image, but her husband’s human eye hadn’t captured her. But if that was true, why did he show her the photo in the hotel room? How had he known it was there?

  And the better question: was the spirit still there?

  “One way to find out.” Calliope went to the bedroom and checked the clock. It was a little after four in the morning. Ghosts came out at night, didn’t they? Of course, this one had been out during the day, but Calliope didn’t want to wait that long. She threw off the T-shirt and quickly dressed in jeans and a sweater. She searched through the camera bags for a flashlight. After loading it with new batteries, she exited the room, opting to take the stairs.