Stiletto Dolls

by C. L. Black

  “Thank you, Miss Jane.”

  “Thank you for what, my dear?”

  Natasha’s eyes dropped. A younger voice spoke. “Thank you for that gentle caress of my hand, Miss Jane. I find it so lovely.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. I too find it pleasing.”

  Dinner was served. Not a minute later, Nina returned with their wine.

  Jane continued her focused observation of the, lovely Natasha. She appeared quite capable, yet quite innocent. Her posture was, perfect. Her table manners were, exquisite. Yes, she was the perfect Teufelmaus. But, was she the same one? Had Boris trained her too? “Enjoying your Caesar, my dear Natasha?” Impossible. She’s dead. They’re all dead! This is Krump’s doings.

  “Oh yes, Miss Jane. Thank you for asking.” Natasha’s face grew brighter with each word sent her way.

  “You have such a lovely smile, my dear.” She held Natasha with her eyes. “So innocent, yet inviting.”

  “Thank you, Miss Jane.” Natasha was blushing. “It’s the wine. It gives me much joy to know that I please you so.”

  “How long have you been a linguist, my dear?”

  “What? Oh, since, I came, to America, Miss Jane.”

  “Sie sprechen Deutsch? (So you speak German?)“ Jane spoke in fluid German.

  Natasha answered, also in German. “Yes, Miss Jane. Russian, Polish, Dutch, French, some Italian, and English of course.” She giggled like a schoolgirl. Their words would remain in her native tongue for the remainder of the evening.

  Slicing deep into her juicy strip, their conversation moved overseas. “Where in Berlin did you reside, my dear?”

  “We lived in an old hotel. I forgot the name. Just to the east of the Brandenburg Gate. About three kilometers past the Wall.”

  “So you’re a communist, then?” asked Jane, only half joking, with a tinge of slyness in her eye.

  “Oh no, Miss Jane. Never!” Natasha had lost the sweetness. “We’re not communists. We—Oh! I, I’m an American citizen. I love America. I hate the fucking communists. Fucking pigs! All of them.”

  Jane quickly released her steak knife, replacing it with the doll’s hand. “Please forgive me… Natasha?”

  Natasha breaths turned short and rapid. “They killed my mama.” She started to tear up. “They killed my papa too. I hope they all die!” She was shaking. Her left hand twitched in Jane’s. Her face was on fire. Natasha’s eyes locked onto Jane’s, searching for, Katrina; a sign she knew the real reason they were there. She had to wait. The code… Did she get it?

  Jane reached out, taking both hands. “There, there, my sweet little princess. Come back to me. Miss Jane can see what a brave girl you are. I’m sure your mama and papa died a brave death protecting you from the evil iron fist of communism.” She leaned closer, seeing both fear and hope held captive in those soft blue eyes. She held tight. For two minutes, they stayed locked together, neither saying a word. It worked. Natasha settled. Jane released, but only to remove a tissue from her bag. She placed it in the doll’s trembling left palm.

  “Finish your dinner, sweetie.”

  They resumed their meals, finishing without further conversation. Jane remained sensitive to Natasha’s state. No doubt, whoever she was, her past held great pain and sadness. The gentle touch and approving smile, along with a few mousy bites, worked to settle her newfound sweetie. Nina returned and cleared the table.

  Jane, still speaking in fluid German, said, “Well then, my sweet, I greatly enjoyed our dinner date. It seems that my hour with you is lost. We are almost upon the time that I must release you.”

  “Thank you, Miss Jane. I too have enjoyed you.”

  “Do you see your tardy senator, my dear?” They released their eye hug, just long enough for one complete scan around the lounge. Each searched with concern for the one person neither wanted to appear.

  “Why no, Miss Jane, I don’t. Maybe she’s not coming. What should I do?”

  “Well, my dear sweet little girl, I think you shall hand me your mobile.” Jane held out her open hand. “Right this second!”

  Natasha reached into her Prada then placed an iPhone in Jane’s eager palm.

  A false check for recent texts. “Just as I thought. My dear, sweet little girl, your naughty senator has left you a message apologizing for stranding you in this scary place. She insists you call her office tomorrow to reschedule. Well then, my dear, I still have you all to myself. Don’t I, my little sweetie?”

  “Yes. Yes, Miss Jane. You can have me.” She blushed. “At least until eleven. I have to get home. I promised my kitten.”

  Jane held Natasha’s attention as she dropped the iPhone into her own bag and then removed a small leather-bound writing pad. The pad was red—bloodred. Next to it was a fancy fountain pen. She removed it, slowly unscrewed the cap, and scribbled out a brief note then read it aloud.

  I Natasha, give my true self to Miss Jane on this day, 2009.05.27

  Starts: 2000 / Expires: 2300 local

  Switch Phrase: Boris sent me

  Safe word: Bullwinkle

  Signed: Dame Jane the GoodKnight of Sterling

  Jane slid the coded proposal across the table.

  Natasha read it. She read it again. She sighed. You received her note. She wanted to cry, but didn’t. Something was wrong.

  Jane Sterling looked directly into those glazed blue eyes and slowly spoke her next words in flawless German: “Do you, little Natasha, give yourself over to Miss Jane, as per the contract, with free will of your one true self?”

  She answered timidly. “I do, Mistress.”

  “Do you promise to obey Miss Jane’s every desire?”

  “I do, Miss Jane.” Her word barely registered. Something was terribly wrong. Where is my Katrina? She realized her Katrina wasn’t there. A single tear escaped, falling to bleed, the note.

  “Sign it now, dear.”

  With quivering hand, Natasha took the fountain pen and carefully signed her true and given name: Kristina Natasha Teufelmaus. She then lifted the small red pad, blowing over the black ink. Only after being certain it was dry, and with the greatest of care, did she present the executed and now binding contract back to her new mistress. She studied the pen. On it, the initials: K.G.B. She slowly screwed the cap on, Mistress’s pen, and handed it back.

  Miss Jane examined the signature for some time before returning the pad and the recapped pen to her bag. “We’ll then, my sweet little Natasha.” She rose to her feet. “Let us retire to Miss Jane’s bedchamber where she can better attend to your needs.” She offered her hand.

  Natasha took it.

  With a firm grasp she eased Natasha’s chair out, enabling a most graceful departure from the table. Everyone noticed the Cougar and her catch. They withdrew, arm in arm, leaving the T & C to the drooling wolves and their howling eyes. Jane escorted her beautiful white swan out to the lobby and direct to the elevators.

  “What floor, Miss Jane?” asked a soft, almost childish voice. She waited, eager to press Katrina’s button.

  “Eight. Remove those big-girl shoes.” She wasn’t about to take any unnecessary risks.

  “I’ve never done anything like this before.” Natasha pressed the button.

  The door slid shut with a thud. “Never?” Jane raised a brow. “Really?” The elevator rumbled.

  “Never! I’m really a good girl.” Natasha complied, removing the stilettos. “Really.” The ride up got a little bumpy.

  “I’m sure you’re a very good little girl.” Taking her into her arms, Jane continued with a cursory weapons search, whispering into the left ear. “But, if you were a naughty girl, I’d have to put you over my knee and spank your soft little bottom. Wouldn’t I?” She loosened her hold just enough. Each looked into the other’s soul. “Wouldn’t I, sweetie?”

  Natasha closed her eyes and in a barely audible voice said, “Ja.”

  “Look at Miss Jane.” She waited for the eyes. “Ja, what?” Jane’s voice was stern.

&n
bsp; “Ja, Miss Jane. I promise to be a good little girl for you tonight.”

  “Does my little Natasha promise to do everything she’s told?” She spoke the words softly.

  “Ja, Miss Jane.” With each reply, Natasha regressed, growing younger and younger, becoming less the woman and more the girl, the little princess she longed to be.

  Jane sensed the regression. She knew the intensely submissive trait all too well from experience. By the last response, Natasha took on the personality of a child, one totally dependent and unconditionally trusting of her new guardian. Was Natasha under Miss Jane’s spell? Jane hoped that was the case as the elevator arrived at eight. Or, was it someone else’s spell? Was this another bloody Krump honey trap?

  The rogue looked down at her pretty little gift. “That’s much better, sweetie. Pick up those big-girl shoes.” The elevator doors opened. “Take Miss Jane’s hand. Hold on tight.” She led her out into the hallway as if she were guiding a child. They walked hand in hand down the long carpeted corridor, almost to the end. “Here we are, sweetie. Room eight-six-nine.”

  Jane inserted the key card and removed it. Click. With a twist and a push—“In you go”—they entered. She handed the agent provocateur the Do Not Disturb sign, “to stand guard, love.” With a thud, the door closed tight. She let the sweet little girl turn the lock, sealing out the real world, a world full of evil and lies. The rogue smiled. “I don’t think these will be of any further use to us.” She took the ill-fitting stilettos and dropped them by the door. “Come, my sweet, I may have a present for you.” Someone’s in the mood for candy.

  Meow…

  Sweet Dreams Baby

  Catherine’s Bedroom, 23:04 local

  Still dressed, she lay on her bed ready to go and pissed. Her friend hadn’t responded since dinner to her repeated texts. She waited a few minutes and tried again. Fuck! No reply. She felt herself seething with anger. She reached into her Coach and removed her almost-empty perfume, applying a healthy dose. Its scent brought instant pleasure. She sent another message and waited. Still, there was no reply. Cat couldn’t understand why she hadn’t received any reply. She promised. Bitch! The next time she typed it out longhand, pressed the Send key, and waited. It read:

  Where the fuck are you? MK is going to whack my BP silly. Meet me around the corner at 11:30. I can’t wait to kiss you again.

  Love MK.

  11:11 PM. MK’s phone purred. “’Bout fucking time.”

  Sorry MK. Can’t. Going to be tied up all night in DC. BP will call MK tomorrow. MK can whack her BP then. Can’t wait to kiss MK too.

  Love BP.

  12:01 AM. Catherine sent her plea:

  But YOU promised! We have to leave now!

  12:02 AM. She received her reply:

  BP very sorry love. Still tied up in DC. You’re on your own until tomorrow. GoodKnight my love.

  For close to an hour, she simmered in denial. She should have been here by now. “That bitch lied.” She really isn’t coming. After taking some time out to quell her demons, Cat’s anger remained at bay. She lay there, atop her bed, wide awake and still dressed. From the bed, she went to the window, still trying desperately to come up with a new escape plan. Make a run for it? Why? My mom will know where I went. “Fuck!” she peered out into the darkness.

  She didn’t know that Miss Christi had planned ahead too. Two Blachmann Cougars were stationed in the black Mercedes parked around the corner. Monitoring the sensors was Danielle. She had installed several earlier that day. Any movement in the bedroom would arouse her. From their position, they could also maintain a visual on her bedroom windows and the street. If she made a break for it, she wouldn’t get very far.

  “Not in those hot boots.” Danielle turned down the brightness on her iPhone.

  Cougars were what the academy Blachmann alumni called each other. The school’s mascots were a pair of female cougars, one black, one blonde. Catherine really should have just gone to sleep. Did she really think her parents would leave her alone with Miss Christi? She really didn’t want to come face to face with a Blachmann Cougar, let alone two, in the dark of the night.

  “Fuck! They’re back.” A taxi pulled into the driveway. Her parents got out and their ride was gone. They’re arguing again. She jumped on her bed and waited, weary, but ready for another fight. She expected her mom would check in on her. Footsteps. Catherine could feel her mom’s presence on the other side of the bedroom door. She sat up and said, “It’s open.”

  The door creaked. Her mother stood there, in silhouette. The light from the hallway illuminated Kate’s statuesque form with a soft glow.

  “Still awake, I see.” Her mom sounded tired standing there. Her gown dragged the floor.

  “Yeah, I guess.” She sounded whipped.

  Her mother didn’t say another word. She couldn’t. Those damn boots. Kate advanced.

  “You’re beautiful, in that dress. Where’s your heels?” She needed to hear her mom’s voice.

  “Thanks. Your father left them in the taxi. They were killing. I’ll be glad to get this corset thing off and get to bed.” She forced a yawn. She couldn’t show it, but Kate was stressed to breaking over sending their Catherine to the Castle.

  “Have a nice time with daddy tonight?” She left her defiance out in the darkness.

  “Yes, kitten, we had a nice time. Until his damn Blackberry went off, and off.” Her mom hadn’t called her kitten in a long time. “Sorry. Aren’t those stilettos killing you?” She stepped closer. “Want some help out of those damn boots?” Shit. She froze.

  “No!” Catherine recoiled. “I love them. Might even sleep in ’em.” The truth was, her arches had long-since-needed a break from their bondage.

  “Suit yourself kitten. I love you…always.” Kate wanted desperately to take her misguided kitten and run. She knew what lay ahead. She wished it could be different. It was out of their hands.

  “Goodnight, Mother!”

  Her mom cringed. “Happy dreams, Cat.”

  Her dad’s head popped through the doorway. “Love you.”

  Catherine allowed the child imprisoned within to speak. “Love you too, Dad,” and Mom.

  Her father said something about calling the cab company. It was just after one when the he pulled her bedroom door shut. He worried it might be for the last time.

  1:53 a.m. Catherine finally had a new plan. She sent a text to her accomplice.

  Be at DCA by 11. MK will kiss her BP all over. GoodKnight yourself, slut.

  Whack, whack!!!

  Love MK

  Parked around the corner, Danielle continued her sentinel. She took another hit of her Black Stallion. Her iPhone smoldered in her lap. Without warning, it buzzed, the screen lit, and the earpiece teased her right ear. “Motion detected. Motion detected.”

  Her partner, asleep in the back, had the next watch at 02:00. Danielle sat in the driver’s seat, motionless, studying the composite image burning in her lap. The system used the latest in video surveillance technology. It’s like being a bug on the wall. No, it’s way better. She hadn’t taken her bug off the wall since dropping the Blacks off at the Mayflower.

  Catherine slid her long legs off the bed and walked to her desk, connecting the phone to its charger next to her closed laptop. She returned to her bed and sat.

  Unzipping the boots. Need any help?

  She pulled them off.

  Maybe next time, baby. Danielle had chosen the perfect location to position the covert sensor package. She took another hit from her Black Stallion. Empty. She eased the thin aluminum container into a plastic bag. Too soon to wake, Sam.

  Danielle observed the subject hop off her bed. Here we go. Unzipping her leather mini. Let it fall. “Yes!” Crap. She glanced over her shoulder. Still sleeping like a baby. Close one.

  Catherine kicked it up from the carpet, snatched it out of the air, and tossed it on top of the boots.

  Very nice, baby. Subject made a visit to the bathroom. Waiting for the
flush, Danielle took both eyes off the screen for the first time since the subject entered her bedroom. She reached for her mini cool pack, taking out another energy drink.

  On her return to camera view, the subject added, that ugly top and totally wrong bra, to the pile and then crawled in bed, under the sheets.

  Catherine was finally ready to allow herself to sleep. Her eyes closed. She allowed some slumber, but only after one last thought. You better be there. You promised.

  Sleep? Danielle was way too aroused. Not after that performance, not to mention the caffeine-laced energy drinks. One eye still on the screen, she noted the time, 02:02. “Nighty-nights, princess baby.” Time for Sam to relieve me. She hadn’t slept in twenty hours. Too wired. She stared at the darkness guarding her lap. We’ll let Sam sleep a bit longer. She downed the last of her fourth Black Stallion and switched to IR mode. Oh yeah…

  That form looked just as hot under the sheets. White hot. Danielle dimmed the screen to its lowest setting. The car was getting hot and steamy. She switched on the ventilation. The windshield cleared. Outside, the temperature had dropped to 61 degrees. It began to rain. She set the temp selector to six and nine. She didn’t need Sam getting hot and waking up. At least not until her shift was done. Oh yeah, that’s my baby.

  Wake Up My Sweet

  Room 869, Wednesday, 29 May, 08:46 local

  “Wake up, my sweet beautiful princess.” Jane gently stroked Natasha’s exposed thigh and stepped away. “Miss Jane has ordered a lovely breakfast, just for you, love.” Like yesterday, she stood before the room’s mirror, this time repairing her lipstick. Satisfied, she capped the tube, a souvenir from Dubai.