by Arwen Jayne
Simon arched his brow, “Ready then?”
Inside the pub they found a table against the wall. The room smelled of beer, old carpet and polished wood. There was a clink of glass as the waiter behind the bar stacked a small dishwasher. Tyra was not surprised that Simon had chosen a position where he could easily see everyone in the room.
“Two of your usual?” asked an obviously tired but friendly young waitress.
“Thanks Melissa. That would be great, keep the change”.
Melissa beamed at him. Being Australia tips were almost unheard of as everyone expected to pay a fixed and fair price and no more, good service was just expected. No one ever complained about bad service, they’d just go elsewhere.
Tyra nodded in the direction of the bar as the waitress walked away. “That was nice”.
“They’re good to me here. They don’t rib me too much over my drinking orange juice and it’s useful to come in here and catch up on what’s going on it town. Also, she doesn’t know it yet but she has a bub on the way. Try not to stare but look at her and then at her belly.”
Tyra concentrated on the colours around the waitress, figuring that that must be her aura, not that she knew anything about auras or how to read them. But she did notice a point of white light in the belly. Guessing from the tiny size, if that light was from a child then it must be pretty new.
“Last night’s winter solstice ritual with her boyfriend Rob.”
Tyra glanced around the pub, noticing a couple of patrons at the bar, again with auras, even if a little muddier than the waitress’s. Suddenly she stopped breathing as she notice the guy at the end of the pub who was eating his counter meal. He’d glanced up at them, lifted his glass in salute and then went back to finishing his meal. What had her in a state of shock was what was in his aura, or more precisely what was his aura. He looked to be encased in the impression of a very large reptile. Its scaly lion shaped head and cruel eyes swung around to peer at her. Tyra quickly averted her eyes and took an ice cold swig of orange juice from the glass that had just been placed in front of her. “Flipping hell! That’s not real. It can’t be real.”
What was even worse was that the wily looking businessman had just finished his meal and was now stalking over to them, beast and all.
The stranger licked his lips. “Simon, I see you’ve acquired a tasty morsel for me”.
Simon made a noticeable growling sound, gritting his teeth. “She’s mine Steven, if you value your men you will keep them away from her”.
Steven raised his eyebrows as if surprised. “So the great Mr Harris is reduced to making threats”.
“I only deal in facts Steven, not threats, you know that. If you don’t want your men getting a quick trip to reincarnating into their next lives then they’d better leave Tyra alone.”
“Then she’d better not be the prophesied one better she? The big boss doesn't want those bastards let loose and interfering with his global business.” At that he stomped out.
7
Tyra stood outside Simon’s door looking at the clear night sky. This far from the city and its pollution the sky sparkled with many constellations. The Milky Way formed a white road of a zillion stars. Wrapped in Simon’s warm ankle length bluey wool felt coat, thick gloves and a cap she felt like she was in her own cozy observatory.
Around the bend came a deep blue Bentley GT Continental, coming to a stop outside Simon’s door. The menacingly sleek sportscar looked new, its enamel ‘B’ on the front grill declaring to all the world its pedigree.
The driver reassured his passenger that yes he would wait.
Tyra was no expert in high fashion but taking in the cut of the coat and the mass of jewellery on the fingers there was little doubt the lady that stepped out of the car was in the rich league.
Tyra nodded politely and gave what she hoped was a good business-like smile. “Evening”.
The tall blonde truly looked down her nose at Tyra. “Evening”, then looked hesitantly at the door as if psyching herself up for something.
Tyra opened it for her.
The lady steeled herself with a deep breath and entered.
Tyra wandered down to chat to the driver. Simon had said he’d be busy for a while.
George Morrisby had gotten out of the car to have a joint rather than sully the hand-crafted dark fiddleback eucalyptus interior and sumptuous upholstery of the magnificent car. He didn’t really look like a George Morrisby. He had an ancestor who had been a British army major stationed in Sudan after Britain and Egypt retook Sudan in 1898 and made it a protectorate. As the fifth son of a minor British lord William Smythe Morrisby had little back in Britain to interest him so when he fell in love with a local girl he decided to make Sudan his home. His descendants had made a reasonable living importing and exporting goods from Britain. Never really accepted in his homeland, partially because of his mixed blood and partially because his family were Anglican rather than Orthodox Christian or Sunni Muslim, he had left his country in his late teens and gone to Oxford to study engineering. One summer he came home from college to find his family had been massacred as collateral damage in one of Sudan’s many sectarian struggles for power. After five years in refugee camps, two years in an Australian immigrant detention centre and one year in a settlement program he had finally gained his citizenship and become an Australian only to find he couldn’t get work. His English might have been immaculate but times were hard and even though no one was openly racist he knew his skin colour went against him. He tried not to blame them, few outside of Africa knew anything about his country and most had only seen the worst of his fellow Africans on their new bulletins, brutal dictators, machete wielding madmen and the like. Simon had found him and offered him a job as his personal chauffeur. When he wasn’t running clients up to Simon he made a bit extra hiring the Bentley out for Weddings. He smoked the dope to help forget the pain of the past. His large hand gripped Tyra’s and he smiled. “What’s someone like you doing watching Simon’s door?”
Tyra decided George seemed an honest down-to-earth character so she decided on an honest reply. “I had reason to need a security license so Simon gave me the job. I’m still learning. This is my first night. By the way what is it that Simon actually does that has the rich elite making a two hour drive to this neck of the woods?”
George frowned, searching his brain for a safe answer. “Ah. That’s not for me to say, you’d better ask Simon for the specifics. But that one tonight’s from Melbourne. Nearly all of them I pick up at the airport. Simon pays me well so I don’t ask too many questions.”
Tyra sensed she wasn’t going to get any more out of George. They spent the rest of the evening casually discussing the weather, the footy and engaged in the Australian pastime of bagging the politicians from all sides of politics. Once or twice she thought she heard a cry or shout coming from the house but George calmly told her to ignore it and went back to their conversation.
Some three hours later the lady re-emerged, no longer looking hesitant but instead she held herself with grace and calm. As she walked to the car peace and serenity wafted off her in waves. She ignored Tyra and nodded to the passenger door for George let her.
George gave Tyra a quick hug in farewell “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then. Take care.”
“You too, see you ‘round.”
Tyra watched as the Bentley disappeared in the night, turning when she heard a call behind her.
Simon had partially opened his front door. “Tyra, you give me a hand here?”
“Yeah, sure, coming.”
Tyra’s eyes bugged as she took the sight of Simon and his lounge room. Simon was dressed, if you could call it dressed, in black leather boots, black leather undies and some kind of studded strapping that criss-crossed his back and chest. At one end of the lounge stood a sturdy wooden cross frame with what looked like furry cufflinks hanging from its ends and around the floor were an array of ropes and whips.
Simon pointed to the catch
at the back of his body harness. “Can you undo that for me, it’s always a struggle to get out of this thing and since you’re here...”
“Um...okay? Tyra came over to him and helped. “So, um, this is your job then?” She unhooked the costume, despite her confused feelings she paused momentarily to touch his smooth warm skin.
Simon turned to face her, gently caressing her cheek. “It’s more than my job Tyra, its part of the way assigned to me by my spiritual mentor Meta, Thex’s father. I’ve been a kadesh, sacred whore all my adult life.”
Tyra, stilled, horrified. “Spiritual? This?” She indicated the equipment in the room. She shook her head in denial. “plain sex I might understand as a physical act of love but how can this be anything spiritual?”
Simon took Tyra firmly by the hand, leading her in the direction of the frame.
Tyra resisted vigorously “oh no you don’t!”
“Not you silly, I would never force anything on you, you are Goddess to me”. He walked up to frame and placed his right hand in a cuff, securing it firmly. “Now you do up the other one.”
Horror wrote itself across Tyra’s face. “You can’t be asking me to hurt you, surely?”
“You can’t hurt me, I’m almost immortal remember, and you don’t even have to whip me hard if you don’t want to. I simply want you to act a part and consider the viewpoint for a moment, call it role play if you will. I’d have thought that you would have caught on by now that I prefer demonstrations to long-winded explanations. Consider it part of your training. You don’t even have to enjoy it”.
“Enjoy it? You’re bloody joking!” Tyra considered the situation for a moment and decided that Simon wasn’t going to let up on this until she at least acted the part and yet for Thex’s sake she was supposed to follow Simon’s guidance. She couldn’t tell what expressions might be on Simon’s face because he was facing the frame, simply patiently waiting for her as if he had complete faith that she would do as he asked. So she walked over and attached the other arm cuff and picked up the least dangerous looking of the whips. Maybe she could give him just a few quick swipes with one and that would be enough for him to have made his point, whatever his point was. At least this whip seemed to be made with soft strips of pliable leather. “Okay what do I do now?”
“Hit anywhere you want across the shoulders or the buttocks, the backs of the legs are also fine but don’t go as hard. Avoid the kidney area, the neck, head and the back of the knees as they’ll hurt more than I’d enjoy and you could do real damage there...if I was human”.
Tyra couldn’t get over that he was letting her take control like this. “You’re putting an awful lot of trust in me”.
“Exactly, the given and receiving of trust is one of the pleasures of this. Now whip me!”
Tyra’s heartbeat sped up. Okay I can do this, carefully. She aimed for his shoulders.
“I didn’t feel that”, came a grumble. “Harder!”
Tyra aimed at the other shoulder and hit harder.
Simon cried out in exaltation. “Yes! Again!”
Tyra was awed that he was enjoying this. It gave her a small thrill that she was standing here giving a man pleasure in this way, even if it wasn’t anything she had dreamt of doing. “More?”
“Yes, but a good mistress would randomly intersperse the whipping with some soft caresses, kisses and licking”.
Yeah, sure...then again, why not? It wasn’t like she’d get a man in this position again, take your chances when you can. Tyra walked over and kissed the reddened areas of Simon’s back.
He moaned.
Tyra got a little more creative but took her time. An unknown mean streak in her didn’t want Simon guessing when she’d whip him so she kept things random, trying occasionally for the buttocks like he’d suggested, changing the pace and stopping once to lick her tongue up the full length of his back. Simon’s moaning and squirming were making her hot in places she hadn’t expected. Her panties were damp and she was sure she was smelling her own arousal as well as Simon’s.
Simon was panting. “Enough! Release me!”
Sad that her unexpected foray into the dark side of life had come to an end Tyra reluctantly released Simon from his cuffs.
Simon grabbed Tyra by the back of her hair and bruised her lips in a punishing kiss. “All-spirit, it didn’t occur to me that you would take to that so well.” When he came up for breath he drew back and looked at her with adoration and wonder. “Your turn.”
Tyra broke free of Simon’s embrace. “in your dreams fella”. Not looking back she made a dash for what looked like a spare bedroom, snibbed the lock and braced the door with chair. Aroused, confused and horrified she wasn’t really sure if she was protecting herself from Simon or the other way around.
Back in the lounge Simon grinned and licked his lips “in your dreams then”.
8
Tyra lay back on the bed in Simon’s spare room, at least she hoped it was his spare room and not the master bedroom. Why did that thought make her hot? She counted on her fingers all the ways she was so morally screwed. Disgust, definitely she’d been horrified when she’d realised what Simon did but more the disgust was because he had called it spiritual. Shame because she’d was sorry to have left Simon the way he was in the lounge and shame that she had enjoyed what she’d done. Envy of all those women. Did he only do women she wondered? How many could there have been over thousands of years? Delusion because she was surely deluded if she tried to deny that she’d become completely turned on. Fear that she could easily be tempted to do it all again, fear that she might actually enjoy it herself, what other hidden aspects of herself were lurking? Lust for Simon’s body, she hadn’t been able to not notice his firm bum, modest six pack and well developed but not overly built up muscles. Greed because she wanted his body to belong to her. Where had that thought just come from? Lastly, raging anger because Simon had put her in a situation that made her realise all these truths about herself.
Tyra groaned and collapsed back on the pillows. The room was not cold but she kept her clothes on and just lay on top of the bed, letting her mind drift back over the last few days events. Bit by bit the exhaustion from recent events took her and she drifted off to sleep.
Thex was there in her dream. She was lying back against him. One arm wrapped around her, the other tenderly caressing her hair. She started but he shushed her. “Rest Tyra, let go.”
Tyra’s dream self trusted Thex, she had known him all her life, there was no place safer than in his arms. She let her hand wander down to the place between her legs, letting her fingers play in the warm damp there. She arched back and Thex gently kissed her neck, encouraging her but her hand was pulled away and suddenly she felt a tongue in its place. Simon had nestled himself between her legs and was gently spreading her further apart.
Tyra woke with a start, embarrassed at the threesome in her dream and yet hot as hell from arousal. She was further startled when she looked up and realised Simon was standing at the foot of the bed, heat radiating from his eyes. His tongue briefly licked his bottom lip. The chair was still against the door and the lock still in place. What had she been thinking when she thought she’d keep Simon out?
“Take off your pants!”
Tyra hesitated for only a moment and then did as Simon had commanded. Why she complied so readily she wasn’t sure. She blamed her recently discovered dark side. She could feel the damp heat gathering inside her, bathing her in her own arousal.
Simon got up on the bed and he spread her legs. Tyra did nothing to stop him. It was like she was watching a movie, a dream come to life.
“Let me make it real Tyra, let me worship you.”
Having positioned her on the bed Simon paused to place a finger on Tyra's third eye. “Thex wants in on this too”.
A doorway in Tyra’s mind crashed open and suddenly she felt like Thex really was there. His body might still be trapped in stone but his breath was real and hot on the back of her neck. She really d
id feel his arms around her holding her against his strong warrior trained body.
Simon used his fingers to gently nudge Tyra’s pubic hair and the lips of her vagina apart. He let moisture gather on his tongue and then bent down and tenderly kissed her inner folds. His warm tongue deftly fucking her.
The pleasure was more intense than anything Tyra had ever felt. She struggled against her own need to yield to the pleasure but Thex held her fast.
Come for us Tyra. Thex whispered in her mind. Let us give you this. Accept it. Accept us.
Tyra cried out as a ripple of pleasure started at her heart and travelled all the way down to where Simon’s tongue touched her insides. A burning, building pressure took hold of her and she clamped down around Simon’s tongue, pressing herself into his face, urging him on. A tingling of electricity built at her ass and a wave of electricity shot up her spine to the crown of her head as she let out an earth shattering scream.
As she collapsed back on the pillows her mind and the world stood. Then she fainted.
9
Two running shoes hit the bed with a thunk. Tyra peered, bleary eyed and only half awake, at the direction from which they had been thrown. Simon was leaning against the door frame grinning at her.
“Rise and shine, Tai Chi in the park before breakfast.”
Tyra groaned, pushed back the covers and reluctantly swung herself out of bed. She reached for her clothes but Simon grabbed them out of her way first.
“Just for a sec before you get dressed, turn and look in the mirror”
Bemused Tyra stood up and faced the mirror. “Okay, what am I meant to be looking at apart from my embarrassingly naked body?.”
