Perhaps he wants me to suck him, she thought, her heart beating faster. Perhaps tonight she would taste his cum. She itched to go ahead and unzip his trousers, but she knew better. She kneeled, hands in her lap, and waited.
“Slip off your undergarments,” she heard him say, a little muffled by the table between them. “If you are wearing any, that is,” he added, in a tone she knew was calculated to embarrass her. With some difficulty due to the cramped space, she complied.
“Now, lay yourself across my lap, with your skirt up around your waist.”
No! she thought. Not here, in this public place! Yet even as her mind protested, her body obeyed. He leaned back on the upholstered bench, away from the table. She pulled up her skirt, then wriggled up into the space he had made, trying to cause as little disturbance as possible. In a moment, her abdomen and hips rested against the textured silk of his suit. With some satisfaction, she realised that she could feel the delicious hardness of his incipient erection pressing into her. Meanwhile, her bare bottom was available and exposed, just below the level of the table-top. Her head and shoulders rested, fairly comfortably, on the plush upholstery of the bench. She buried her face in the crook of her elbow, as if by shutting out the visual world, no one would see her.
They remained still in this position for what seemed like eons. Kate was intensely aware of her naked flesh; she imagined it gleaming in the dim bar like some secondary moon. Ghostly fingers seemed to be caressing her buttocks, but she knew this was only the suspense acting on her mind. Then came Gregory’s voice, soft and commanding.
“You ran off last night, Kate, before the last act. I had planned a final performance for you, with just me as the audience. Too bad. I understand why you ran, without my permission, but I still need to punish you. You understand that, don’t you?”
Kate replied with a muffled assent.
“So I am going to spank you now, because you need to be punished. It won’t hurt as much as the cat o’ nine tails. However, you don’t really know who will be watching, do you? There could be a crowd gathered round, admiring the reddening fullness of your lovely ass.”
Kate shook her head, still shutting out the light. Incredulous, she realised that her sex was damp and tingling. Merely by describing her humiliation, he could make her hot.
She had been expecting further discourse from her beloved torturer, but instead she felt the sting of his palm on her skin. It hurt for a moment. Then the warmth spread across her flesh, creeping between her legs. A second slap followed on the other cheek, and then a dozen more, until her whole ass burned, tender and alive.
He stopped for a moment, and then Kate heard the accented English of the waiter.
“Would you like another beer, sir?” With his left hand, Gregory spread her thighs and sank three fingers into her drenched vagina. With his right, it seemed, he drained the last of his beer mug and handed it to the waiter.
“Yes, thank you.”
“And your lady companion?” Kate wanted to sink into the ground. She had no idea whether she was visible to the Thai across the table from Gregory. “Will she be returning?”
Gregory worked her cunt with his fingers. Meanwhile, he pressed his thumb against the tight muscles of her anus, seeking access. Her heart beating wildly, Kate relaxed and let the thick digit enter her.
“She went off the powder room. Please bring her another gin and tonic.”
“Of course, sir,” said the waiter. Kate could only hope he was gone. Meanwhile, she writhed in Marshall’s lap, as he clenched his hand, bringing thumb and fingers together. He rubbed his thumb against his fingers, through the thin wall of flesh that separated her rear passage from her forward one. The pleasure was so acute, Kate thought she would faint.
Her orgasm began, deep, deep inside her, welling up irresistibly. Part of her fought against it, unwilling to be so easily manipulated and controlled. But there was no help for it. Gregory’s hand blazed within her, urging her on, teasing, commanding. She stuffed her wrist in her mouth to stop her screams as the climax raged through her like a forest fire. Just as she was coming, Gregory roughly removed his hand from her sex and rained a new set of blows on her raw buttocks. This only fanned the flames.
“Your drinks, sir.” Kate lay panting in Marshall’s lap, his hard cock pushing rhythmically into the space between her open thighs. He’ll ruin his lovely suit, she thought, deliriously happy despite the pain and embarrassment. However, he seemed to be in complete control of himself.
“Thank you. Could you bring our cheque please?” Then he leaned over and whispered into Kate’s ear. “Sit up. Pull yourself together.”
Kate did her best to obey. Her skirt clung to her sticky thighs. Her nipples ached, and she was still breathing heavily.
Gregory took her chin in his hand, his left hand, and leaned over to kiss her. As his hot tongue probed her mouth, she smelled her own mingled scents on his fingers, the salty musk of her cunt and the sweet, dark, scary fragrance of her butthole. It was enough, almost, to make her come again.
“My little Kate, it is so difficult for me to be stern with you,” Gregory sighed. “I suspect that you need a firmer hand than mine.”
No, thought Kate to herself, your hand is exactly what I need. Your hand, your whip, your cock. She snuggled against him. He did not resist or chastise her. Rather, he seemed lost in thought.
Kate was a little worried. Gregory appeared uncertain, at a loss, for the first time in their acquaintance. She did not know what to say, and so she sipped her drink and said nothing, acutely aware of his silence.
After what seemed like a long while, he gave a little laugh. “I have just the thing.” he said. “Just the right sort of punishment for Edward Harrison, who clearly does not have sufficient respect for you or for women in general. And just the right sort of scene for you.”
Kate’s eyes grew wide as he recounted his plan. It was bizarre, crazy, perhaps a little dangerous. It played like a scene from some pulp detective story, full of intrigue and drama. But it might work.
Meanwhile, Kate could tell even from Marshall’s brief description, it would be more extreme and perverse than anything she had experienced under his tutelage so far. She had to admit to herself that she was looking forward to it.
Kate arrived at DigiThai before seven o’clock the next morning. She needed some private time, free from interruption or surveillance by her co-workers.
The first thing she did was rename the archive holding the projective 3D work, and move it to an out-of-the-way area on her temporary disk. Then she began to systematically construct a decoy archive. She grabbed whatever files she could find—computer games, word processor software, jokes emailed to her by friends back in the U.S.—and renamed each one to match one of the files in the original 3D archive. To avoid suspicion, she made sure to include some source code, tutorials that had come with her compiler. She loaded all the renamed garbage files into a new archive called PROJ3D, and added the real documentation file she had produced, which included details on the files included and their contents. Finally she encrypted it all, using the password she had shared with Malawee.
By eight o’clock she was writing the decoy archive to a CD-ROM. The process was nearly complete when Edward Harrison startled her.
“Good morning, Katherine! You are certainly here early. And you are hard at work already.”
“Good morning, Edward,” Kate replied, her calm voice hardly betraying the anxious pounding of her heart. “I was just finishing up fixes for the final bugs in this first version of the 3D software.” She smiled sweetly. “I thought we might want to invite Mr Marshall in later this week for an initial demo.”
Her suggestion produced the desired effect. Harrison was visibly flustered as he replied. “Oh, no, I think that is premature. You told me yourself, Katherine, that work was far from complete, that you needed to deal with multiple viewpoints and a host of other details.”
“Still, Edward, since Mr Marshall has commissioned
this work, it seems that we should keep him apprised of its progress.”
Harrison squirmed. “Well, perhaps next week. This week is impossible; I already have too many commitments.”
I’m sure you do, thought Kate as he left her office. Such as your commitment to sell out DigiThai. She put the decoy CD in her briefcase, and waited to hear from Gregory.
Just before she left for lunch, her phone rang. Anchana was at the other end of the line. “I have a call for you,” she said. “Someone named Gary Murdock. He sounds British.”
Kate did not find the name familiar. “Go ahead and transfer me,” she said, curious.
“Ms O’Neill?” The voice was suave, cultured, higher in pitch than she had expected.
“Yes, this is Katherine O’Neill. How can I help you, Mr Murdock?”
“Well, you could get down on your hands and knees, and stick your hot, juicy cunt in my face.” The crudeness was totally inconsistent with the tone and delivery.
Then light dawned. “Gregory!” Kate could not help but laugh a little. “You are impossible!”
“At your service, Madam,” he said, reverting to his normal voice. He paused, then continued. “As I know that you are at mine.”
Kate tried to ignore the thrill that ran through her.
“I have spoken to Malachevsky, in the persona of Edward Harrison. The transfer is arranged for tomorrow morning. Do you have the fake material?”
“I finished it this morning,” she said, glad that she had been so diligent.
“Great. Can you drop it off at The Grotto tonight, on your way home? I will not be there, unfortunately, but you can give it to Noi.”
“Whatever you say,” she answered demurely.
“Indeed. Well, we’ll see about that.”
“Now, tomorrow, you should skip work, as we discussed. Leave home early in the morning, and spend the day somewhere you will not be recognised. Don’t talk to anyone, especially not your maid. Then, meet me at seven in the evening, in front of the Montien.”
“I’ll be there,” said Kate.
“Come prepared to be kidnapped,” Gregory added. She could imagine the glint in his eye. Then he hung up.
Kate reviewed the plan in her mind. She would disappear; Harrison would wonder where she was, would worry that something had gone wrong. Then, late in the day, Gregory would telephone Harrison, masquerading as some anonymous thug. Katherine had been kidnapped, Gregory would tell Harrison, and furthermore, the plot to defraud DigiThai had been discovered. To save Katherine, and himself, Harrison would obey Marshall’s instructions. Gregory would lure the American to some out-of-the-way spot. Then he and Noi would use their skills to humiliate and punish her boss—while Kate watched in satisfaction.
Kate wondered just what Gregory and Noi would do to Harrison. She was still turning over ideas in her mind when she reached The Grotto. Noi was waiting in the doorway, a strange smile on her lips.
“Kate,” she said softly. “It is good to see you again.”
Kate blushed as she remembered the last time Noi had seen her, with her face buried in another woman’s sex.
“Good evening, Noi,” she said, struggling for composure. “Here is the material for the swap.” She handed Noi a sealed manila envelope that held the CD.
“Would you care to come inside?” asked Noi, her smile widening. “I am sure that the girls would love to say hello.”
“No, thank you, I have to be going.” Kate was surprised at her own discomfiture. Then she realised that it was more from anticipation of the next time they would meet than from recollection of the last time.
The next day had the vague, portentous quality of a dream. She left her house early, in tourist garb, sunglasses and a floppy hat. She spent the morning in the National Museum, admiring the grace of the Buddha statues and the gilded complexity of the paintings. Resolutely, she shut out the vivid, obscene images that assailed her imagination. At lunch, in an open air restaurant overlooking of the Chao Phraya River, she ordered a beer to calm her nerves. The alcohol intensified her feelings of unreality.
The afternoon flowed on, bright and endless. Kate tried to go shopping but instead found herself just sitting in the cafe at the centre of some busy mall, sipping her ice tea and staring at the passers-by, while one perverse scene after another unrolled in her mind.
Finally it was twilight. She stood under the awning at the entrance of the Montien Hotel, relaxed and still. She did not know what to expect, but somehow, she was prepared.
A black sedan with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Gregory pushed open the back door.
“Get in,” he said. Kate obeyed. He kissed her lightly, almost playfully, then produced a black silk scarf from one of his pockets.
“Close your eyes,” he said, almost in a whisper. She felt the cool fabric on her eyelids, and a small tug as the knot was tied.
“Why a blindfold?” she asked, though in fact she really did not care. All she wanted was to be where she was, with him, in his power.
“I don’t want you to know all my secrets just yet,” said Gregory. The back of his hand brushed her cheek and then was gone, leaving a stroke of heat in its wake. “Besides, it adds verisimilitude.”
“Let’s go,” he said to the invisible driver, perhaps Noi. Then he did not speak again.
Encased in darkness, Kate could feel the warm bulk of Gregory’s body seated close beside her. Please touch me, she begged silently, please. Of course he did not, as ever teaching her to be pliant and patient. Strangely, though, Kate had the idea that he was disciplining himself, that he yearned to reach for her but would not allow himself to do so.
The ride seemed to last a long time. Heat radiated from Gregory’s flesh, so close to her and yet so distant. She remembered her back seat encounter with Somtow, on the way to Ayuthaya, but she did not dare try any such manoeuvre with Marshall. She knew he would only mock her and tell her she must learn how to wait.
Once she felt him shift, and thought for a moment that he might be about to encircle her with his arm. Then he settled back into his seat, a little further away. Again Kate sensed an inner struggle within the heart and mind of her master.
Finally the car slid to a stop. Without removing the scarf from her eyes, Marshall helped her out of the car. She smelled salt and rotting seaweed, and heard the distant boom of a foghorn. They must be somewhere on the Gulf of Thailand, she thought, near the mouth of the river.
Gregory held her elbow, steadying her as he led her forward. She heard the crunch of gravel under the heels of her sandals, then the muted click of wood, which gave a little under her weight. A bridge or causeway, thought Kate, wondering where they were headed and feeling, for the first time, a tiny prick of fear.
Squeaky hinges as a door swung open. “Step up,” her guide said shortly. She followed his instructions, then felt a more solid floor beneath her. “Stop,” said Marshall, then circled around her and removed the blindfold.
They were in a rough wooden shack, apparently on stilts over the water; Kate could hear the lap of the waves against the pilings beneath them. Two kerosene lanterns provided a yellow light that left the corners in shadow. Iron hooks and rings were scattered over the unfinished walls and embedded in the heavy beams that supported the corrugated tin roof. The shutters on the single window were fastened back. A salty breeze drifted in through the opening, and Kate could see the lights of the squid boats and tuna trawlers twinkling in the misty distance.
“Strip down to your underwear,” said Gregory, his voice unexpectedly harsh. “We don’t have much time.”
Kate obeyed silently, handing her clothing to Noi, who had followed them into the room. The mamasan looked stunning, in spike-heeled boots with silver zippers running from ankle to thigh, and a brief black dress with matching zipper down the front. Noi smiled enigmatically as she took Kate’s skirt and T-shirt, but said nothing.
“Sit there,” said Gregory, indicating one of several straight-backed wooden chairs in the room. T
he only other furnishings were a utilitarian-looking wooden table, and a battered steamer trunk in one corner, in which Noi was rummaging. She emerged holding several lengths of rope, which she brought to Gregory, her heels clicking on the linoleum-covered floor.
Dressed only in her simple cotton brassiere and underpants, Kate seated herself demurely in the chair. Marshall pulled her hands behind her, a bit roughly, and tied them at the wrists, weaving the rope through the rungs of chair so that she was thoroughly attached. Then he bound her ankles together, looping the rope around the chair legs in the process. Although he did not seriously hurt her, he was not gentle.
The twinge of fear grew stronger. “Why are you tying me up?” she asked, hesitant to speak without permission.
Marshall leered at her. “Well, you are a kidnap victim, after all.” He leaned closer. “Why? Don’t you like it?”
Kate looked down and said nothing. It was true. Immobilized by the bonds, she felt helpless and aroused. Still, his strange mood and manner made her uneasy.
With my legs tied so tightly together, she thought, he can hardly access my sex.
As if to answer her thought, Marshall came up behind her. In one swift motion, his left hand swooped into her bra, captured her breast and twisted the nipple until she gasped. The other snaked between her pressed-together thighs and into her panties. His fingernail raked roughly across her clit.
“Keep quiet, Kate, or I will have to gag you. You are my prisoner now. Remember that.” He lingered a moment longer, wiggling his finger in the tight confines between her legs until she was wet and breathless. From across the room, Noi watched, that same strange smile on her lips.
A knock on the door made them all jump.
“Harrison,” said Marshall. “Be still now, Kate.”
“Come in,” he called, deepening his voice and adding a hint of some foreign accent.
Hinges squeaked as Edward Harrison opened the door and hesitantly entered the room. Kate’s half-naked, bound figure was the first sight to meet his eyes.
“Katherine!” he said, rushing toward her. His concern seemed genuine. “Are you all right?”
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