“We talked about kids, if I’d ever had them. But we didn’t really finish that conversation, did we?”
“Gee, I…I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, Kerri, you asked if I had kids, and I told you I didn’t.”
After a subtle, nervous pause, Kerri said, “Yes.”
“But you never told me if you had any.”
What?
“What?”
The little boat’s pilot stood in front of them, facing forward, rowing them down the canal.
“I admit I’ve just assumed, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have some kid in foster care or something.”
“No, Harden, no, I most certainly don’t.”
“Would you like to?” Kerri’s confusion and anger drained quickly away. You clever bastard! “Well? Would you like to have kids with me, Kerri?”
Kerri glanced around. “Um…now?”
Harden chuckled, pulling her even closer, their eyes locking. “Because…I’d like to,” he went on, his voice very heartfelt and sincere as it so often was—a beautiful and raw vulnerability that surprised Kerri. “I want to have several, in fact. I’d love a son, Kerri, and a daughter that looks just like you. And I want you to have those children, Kerri—you and that magnificent body of yours, fostering my seed, creating the fruits of our love and lust.”
Kerri gasped, already quivering with sensual delight.
Even the helmsman was glancing over his shoulder, but he was quick to turn back and look ahead.
“And I know we are going to have children—dynamic and incredible children. And you’re going to love them like the perfect mother, just the way you love me like the perfect wife. Because we’re soulmates, Kerri; we’re meant to be together; we always were and we always will be. I told you it didn’t matter to me who I was before I met you and it still doesn’t, and it never will. It’s who we are together that counts; it’s what we are together. We’re a single living soul, Kerri, one thing inseparable from itself.”
“Yes.” Kerri was amazed at his candor.
“And that’s the way it’s always going to be, Kerri. We live…and die…together.”
“Yes!” she blurted out uncontrollably
“And we’ll raise those children together, Kerri—our children, our love born in life, love creating life and life creating love…”
“Oh yes, Harden, yes…”
They locked in a deep, hard kiss, Harden pulling her close, Kerri’s hands resting on his iron chest, slowly falling to his sculpted abs.
The boat jostled a bit, and Harden and Kerri looked up to see the distracted canal boat captain staring at them, then turning away and redirecting his boat, another canal captain yelling at him in Dutch.
After the beautiful boat ride came to an end, they ventured on foot to see more of the city. The sun was going down as Harden started walking Kerri along Amsterdam’s infamous Red Light District, several blocks of neon signs in the shapes of naked women, cocktail glasses, the triple-X.
The dance clubs had a feature Kerri’d never seen in the United States: windows visible to the street, behind which women danced and stripped hypnotically.
Kerri couldn’t help but ask, “What are we doing here? We’re not going to go into one of these places, are we?”
Harden smiled. “No, of course not.”
Kerri looked at him, at his calm repose, then at the decadent world of prostitution that was enveloping them in all directions. “Is this another step into your past? How many formative years did you spend here?”
“None, Kerri, none. This has never been my scene.”
What was your scene, Kerri almost asked. Where did you learn all the amazing things you’ve taught me?
Instead she said simply, “Glad to hear it. But…why are we here? Are we investigating, looking for that—?”
But Harden put two fingers, middle and index, against Kerri’s lips to silence her. She instantly complied and Harden lowered his fingers. He said, “We’re here because this is something you have to see, something you have to understand.”
Kerri looked around, her mind drawing a blank.
“But…what is it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Harden! Is this one of your role play games, some big puzzle or something?”
Harden couldn’t seem to have helped but smile, subtle on his handsome face. “No, Kerri, no. You have to see this because this is a big part of what we’re facing.”
“In them, or ourselves?”
“Very good, Kerri, very good. The answer, of course, is both. This is an alley of decadence and scandal—”
“Not like us?”
“That’s just it,” Harden said, ignoring the prostitutes who blew kisses at both of them as they passed. Kerri found it hard to ignore, but she did her best. Harden explained, “What we do is explore what most would call the dark side of ourselves. And I guess that’s fair enough.”
“I don’t see exactly why. We don’t hurt each other, there’s never any blood or anything, no animals or bodily functions or anything. Those people are nuts! We’re just…exotic, that’s all. And you said it yourself many times—there’s something intrinsic about the dominance and submission, something primitive and natural.”
“You really have learned,” Harden ascertained.
“You know I have.”
They shared a chuckle before Harden went on, “Still, there are darker sides to the human character, as far as society is concerned, and society is right. Where we fall on that spectrum will be our own affair.” Kerri thought about it, knowing Harden was right. “As you just said, exotic as we are, we’re not really that dark. Wherever we fall on that spectrum, there will be darker…much darker. And those are the people whose brains look like this, Kerri. You want to see inside the mind of a sex maniac? Take a look around.”
Kerri did, taking in the bacchanalia of craven lust around her. But none of it compared to what she imagined Elias Olafssen inflicted on his innocent victims: blood and cum and screams and smothering plastic bags, arching brows and contorting faces begging for life.
“I’d have thought it would be much worse.”
Harden nodded, looking at Kerri with that quiet admiration he seemed to reserve only for her. “Good. Then we have a chance.”
They walked on, but Kerri couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mind would cradle such images as these, and much worse. And then she realized that precisely that kind of mind resided in her own brain, driving her own soul. She looked up at Harden, knowing that if she was susceptible to those base instincts and notions, he could be too.
Is this the kind of people we are? Are people like this worthy of raising children, or of being in society at all? We’re here to retrieve a person whose mind is more or less like our own. How long will it be before they have to come after us? And what will happen to us then?
Chapter 10
Kerri had seen the work of famous Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh: the textural swirls of A Starry Night to the sad face of the doomed man himself, staring out from the thickly painted canvas, yellows and oranges and greens telling his sad story.
But walking through the three-story museum dedicated to that master’s work, Kerri was struck by how sharp and three-dimensional the paintings were. It was a quality that never came across in any of the many reprints and posters of the man’s famous still-lives—white roses in vases, and blue posies. And his pastoral pictures were even more striking and haunting: crows flying through a darkening sky over an ominous field of waving wheat. It was as if every object in the foreground seemed to jump off the canvas in a way that even modern pictures with all their laser technology and software couldn’t come close to replicating, much less originating.
Kerri couldn’t ignore the throngs of young artists, staring up at the pieces in wide-eyed wonder, some sketching feeble replicas, hoping to decipher even one of the master’s grave-bound secrets.
“About tonight,” Harden said in whisper, “rem
ember that we stick together. We’ll be approached, but you stay with me, no matter what.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Kerri whispered back. “They’re not gonna try to drag me away or anything?”
“No, I just don’t want you to wander off. Remember the reason we’re there. We don’t know what this guy is capable of, or what he’ll have in mind.” Kerri nodded and the two wandered into another room of that colorful, bewildering museum. “First time, they’ll be watching us, cameras all over the place. Our guy’ll be in a room somewhere, scoping everybody out. So from the moment we walk in, think of yourself as being under the microscope. Nothing’s gonna get by them.”
Kerri nodded again. “I know what it’s like to be on camera.”
“Not hidden camera,” Harden reminded her as they walked on.
“How do we get in? Is there a password or something? How’d you get into that auction back in L.A.?”
They strolled on, the grim visage of Vincent himself staring them down from across the long hall. “I’ll buy our way in. That’s all they want. First time, they’ll be watching us, make sure we’re not troublemakers. That’ll help us get in the second time; that’s when things’ll start to heat up.”
“Heat up?”
Harden answered with a nod, “Something else: don’t talk—not a word after we walk in.”
Kerri looked around the paintings, pretending to be nothing more than another tourist. “We just walk around saying nothing?”
“For the most part, that’s exactly what we do. But if anybody approaches, I do the talking.”
“Because you’re the man?”
“In this case, yes. It’s a hardcore S&M orgy palace, Kerri. We go in with me as the dom, you as my sub. That only makes sense.”
Kerri felt that little smile curling on her lips. “I dunno. I could bring you in on that dog leash. I think you’d look pretty great as Scooby Doo.” But Harden wasn’t amused, and Kerri knew he was right. “I didn’t mean to make light of it; I know how dangerous it is.”
Harden looked her over. “Don’t forget it.”
Harden had his rented limo drive them right up to the front of the big, old church. It was ornate and distinctly European. The majestic steeple arose in the center of the sanctuary—the main building where all the worship and ceremony would have taken place back in the building’s heyday. On both sides of the church there were offices and other chambers of study, to accommodate theological discussion and debate, conferences, and conventions.
But it wasn’t a church anymore, and those were not the uses to which any of those rooms were now being put.
A few elegantly dressed people lingered out front, most of them caucasian and wearing elusive black masks. Harden and Kerri approached the massive oak doors at the front of the sanctuary. Kerri’s arm was slipped into Harden’s as they faced a large man in a black tuxedo, the favored clothing for the men in attendance. Kerri wore a black, mini slit-cut dress, several horizontal slashes across one side of her tight minidress.
The doorman looked at her, then at Harden, head tilting slowly, otherwise disinterested. Harden pulled out several bills, folded, no fewer than ten.
And Kerri could see that they were all five hundred dollar bills. The doorman took the money, looked at it and then slowly at Harden and Kerri. With his other hand he revealed two black masks. He handed them to Harden and stepped back. Harden gave Kerri one of the masks, identical and only meant to cover the eyes and bridge of the nose. Kerri put on hers, Harden put on his, and they stepped into The House of Shadows together.
The church’s old lobby was still intact: a wide, shallow room which served as a vestibule between the sanctuary and the outside world. A few stately men and women lingered in this small area, but Harden and Kerri glanced at one and walked straight into what had been the sanctuary.
This massive room resembled a church, only because of the stained-glass window of sad-faced saints, staring down in judgment. There were also statues: white marble saints with perfect faces. But pews had been pulled out, and the chamber was just as expansive as it was tall—a vacuous and ornate chamber. Every corner was covered with carved angels and cherubs, scenes from the Old and New Testaments. Kerri thought she saw David slaying Goliath in one corner, and Jesus turning water into wine in another corner.
But the carved corners of the high walls weren’t where the action was.
Harden led Kerri though the sanctuary, crowded with people wearing masks exactly like theirs. And some were strolling around the way they were, calmly observing the more eager participants of what their thousands of dollars had bought them.
Kerri and Harden walked by two men and a woman engaging in sex. They were unbothered by a group of aroused spectators, who were in various stages of undress: tuxedo shirttails hanging, and breasts naked from behind loose-fitting satin dresses. A man stood with his legs astride, raising a whiskey bottle to his lips and tipping it upward to gurgle it down.
In front of him, a standing, half-naked woman took him into her ass, body bent forward at the hips at a perfect ninety-degree angle, breasts dangling and swinging beneath her as her back-door man increased the speed of his pace.
The man removed his cock from her ass as they changed positions and lowered down onto a plush couch. She climbed on top, reverse cowgirl, and slid on and off that slick prick, big and long but nothing compared to Harden. Another man’s cock hovered over her, then he jammed it in her wet, cock-hungry mouth. The musk of their passion surrounded them, filling the room with a sickening stench.
Kerri stood for a moment, watching these two men spit-roast the woman, and she was loving every minute of it, eyes dipping shut as she devoured that ramming dick in a trance-like pleasure. Back and forth, in and out, licking and sucking and fucking, the three were lost in a world all their own. Kerri was content to leave them there.
They walked on to find a woman on her knees, also at the center of a crowd of spectators—many masturbating or fingering one another, most looking on and others wrapped up in other things. The woman on her knees had her face buried in a naked man’s ass. His legs were spread wide as he was on all fours. The small of his back arched to give her greater access. She pulled her face out and then slipped it back into his crack—tongue flicking, lips kissing. With one free hand, the woman reached around to his long cock, pumping it while she licked—the man hissing and quivering but remaining upright. He finally had to reach out to the wall for support.
And the tromboning continued.
Kerri clung to Harden’s arm as he led her through the rest of the expansive sanctuary, finding a man in a baby’s diapers, his hairy legs up, his jumbo diaper undone, a pretty young woman playing the part of his soothing, adoring mother.
Kerri was almost relieved to see a woman being gang-banged before turning around to head for the exit. At least she was screaming, “Yes, yes!” before they jammed another big dick into her mouth.
Harden led her toward a side door marked Exit. But just before stepping through it, a man stepped in front of them and looked them both over. He had the same big build as the doorman, but Kerri hadn’t paid much attention to the doorman’s hair, and since everybody wore identical black masks; it was impossible to tell if it was the same man or just an associate.
Kerri’s heart slowed to a crawl.
Not only couldn’t Kerri tell who this man was, she didn’t want to be the one to make that determination, much less act on it. He stared Harden down, and Harden stared right back. Those two, big men went face-to-face, neither one of them flinching. Kerri didn’t know what was going to happen, but the invisible tension between the two men was almost enough to strangle the life out of her right there and then.
What is this; she wondered, what’s happening? Who is this guy, what does he want with Harden, or with us?
Kerri’s heart finally ceased to beat, frozen in anticipation.
Finally the man stepped aside. But instead of rushing out the door, Harden paused, glaring at him a
nd sending him back another step before leading Kerri out of the sanctuary and into the balmy night.
Kerri’s heart finally resumed beating, but it wasn’t easy.
Chapter 11
The Keukenhof Gardens were in full bloom, flowers arranged in rows of descending shades: purple into red into pink into white, rolling over hills of brilliant light green grass. The manicured brilliance of its beauty, disciplined and delightful, was a wondrous and necessary contrast to the events of the night before. Instead of that musty stench—cologne and perfume, liquor and cum and balls and pussy—Kerri could take a deep breath of fresh air, and marigolds and roses light on that refreshing summer breeze.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kerri couldn’t help but mutter. “It’s funny, I feel like I say that all the time these days.”
Harden looked her over, winsome in a light, floral summer dress. “Me too.”
She smiled and gave him a playful slap, but her smile melted away. “It’s nice…to be out like this, everything fresh, y’know? Real.”
“Do you think that what we saw last night wasn’t real?”
“Well, no, I… It wasn’t real…in a way…” But Kerri’s certainly slipped away even as she charged for it. “That man wasn’t a baby; he didn’t need to have his ass wiped! That was disgusting!”
“It wasn’t pleasant for me either, Kerri. But he did need that; that’s why he was there. And it’s every bit as real to him as our lives are to us.”
“No,” Kerri blurted out, “no, that’s not true, that can’t be true.”
Without challenging her, Harden calmly asked, “Why not?”
“Because you don’t wear a diaper!”
“No, you wear a gag.”
“But that’s natural, you’ve said so—man, woman, all that! It’s not baby, woman…”
“For some people it is.”
“And…what about us?”
Billionaire Bash: The Complete Steele Series Page 23
