Shameless Exposure

by Robert Fanshaw

  Delayed by searching for the thong which goes with my basque. She pressed send. It was no exaggeration. She had looked through all her knickers three times before finding the ones that matched. And then one of each pair of stockings had a ladder. How did they end up back in the drawer? Why was she searching out her favourite big-night-out underwear when she was going to Erik’s studio again after work? She knew the answer to that one: his indifference had bugged her. She wanted to be wanted, even if he couldn’t have her. She couldn’t believe he would choose Xena over her.

  Andreas must have been in-between meetings because her phone beeped almost immediately. Wow, having fun imagining that.

  Channel the anger. She got up from her desk and went to the ladies room, whipped off her dress, and took a photo of herself in the mirror looking sassy. Back at her desk, she sent the photo to Andreas, no text required. Poor man was obviously missing his wife.

  She threw herself into researching South America and started compiling the presentation for the board. Channel the anger. Perhaps an early trip to Brazil to start making contacts wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  Despite all her efforts, she was still channelling the anger when she pressed Erik’s buzzer in Whitechapel that evening. He responded quickly this time, and came down to meet her, tucking his shirt into his trousers. In the studio, Miss August was pulling on cowboy boots.

  “Caroline, you know Xena. She’s a designer.”

  “Yes we’ve met” said Caroline, forcing a smile.

  “How did you get on at the Orgatron Centre?” asked Xena.

  “I haven’t been yet,” said Caroline. She didn’t explain that she’d gone to the wrong address.

  “Oh you must go, darling. It does wonderful things for a woman’s self-control, doesn’t it Erik? It adds a spiritual dimension to the act of love.”

  Erik grinned and kissed Xena on her full red mouth. “You call it spiritual? That makes me a convert.”

  “Yes, but you should practice as well, Erik. Do you need me tomorrow?”

  “Most men practice all the time. I need you, more than once more. Bring Craig if you like. I’m sure he’d find it interesting.”

  “I’m sure he would,” said Xena, speaking over her shoulder as she clicked her way over the floorboards to the door.

  The lift doors closed on the previous model and Erik turned his attention to Caroline.

  “How are we today? Less tense than yesterday, I hope.”

  “No chance,” said Caroline. “I’m trying to direct anger into positive outlets but I’m not sure it’s working. You suddenly seem to have become good friends with Miss August.”

  “It’s Craig I know really. They’re both artists like me, but their big thing is the design of everyday objects. Things you probably wouldn’t even notice. Like this.”

  He tossed her a plastic phial of nasal spray. “That’s one of Craig’s. I should introduce you – he might be a useful contact for your outfit.”

  “We don’t do medicines.”

  “Yes but you do design. Everything today is a compromise between functionality and design.”

  “Functionality wins out every time in our world. It’s purely about what works to save lives.”

  “Is it? We’d better make a start.” He pointed her towards the Japanese screen. She removed her dress and stepped out from behind the screen on a pretext.

  “Do I need to take everything off again?”

  He laughed. “You’ve proved my point. What you’re wearing is a beautiful compromise between function and design.” She twirled round to let him see the sheer back of the basque and her round bottom neatly framed by thong and stockings.

  “Though I think design has probably been the dominant force,” he continued. “But you have to take it all off.” She obeyed his instruction, only half behind the screen, checking that he was watching.

  Once she was naked on the sofa she relaxed. Instead of the crowd of everyday thoughts fighting for attention, her mind was filled with nothing much. It was getting easier to do nothing, like when she had done the life class modelling for him in her student days. She noticed that the knot of anger had softened. Robert could be an idiot, but it was ridiculous to think he would leave her for that madwoman. There must be some plausible, if slightly unsavoury, explanation for what she had heard.

  “Were you having sex with her when I arrived?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’m helping her with her orgatron practice. You should try it, you know. It really builds up the power of the female orgasm.”

  “What does Craig think of that?”

  “I don’t know if they’ve discussed it.” He didn’t pause in his brush strokes. “I’ve slept with him too. He’s says he’s bisexual but I think he means he’ll shag anything.”

  “Oh, I can’t imagine you and a man.”

  “It’s not my thing but Xena made it a condition that I had to sleep with him before she would agree to a threesome with both of us.” He hid himself by getting close up to the canvas.

  “You live in a completely different world to me, Erik. The business world is so conventional and if anyone wants anything unusual they have to pay money for it. What was it like?”

  “Sex with Craig?”

  “I’m more interested in hearing about the threesome. I would hate two women and a man but I can imagine two men and a woman.”

  “I expect it could be arranged. Do you have two men in mind?”

  “No, I don’t mean me, I mean in theory. What was it like with Xena and Craig? Did Xena enjoy it?”

  “I’ll tell you when we’ve done it. It hasn’t happened yet. It has to happen naturally. We’re going out tomorrow to a party, the three of us. Maybe then?”

  “A party? How long is it since I’ve been to a party? I mean a proper one with music and dancing and interesting people. I only go to business functions where everyone’s brown-nosing and pretending to have a good time with people they don’t like at all.”

  “Come along with us then. The music should be good – it’s at Omar Zidane’s place in Notting Hill. They’ve gone to his concert tonight.”

  “Wouldn’t Omar mind me turning up uninvited?”

  “It’s not that sort of party. We won’t be sitting down to dinner. It’ll be a load of people hanging out. You don’t have to decide now. It wouldn’t hurt for you to let your hair down, Caroline. You seem jaded. That’s it for tonight. Get dressed.”

  She stood up and walked round to look at the emerging picture. It shocked her. Is that what he saw, stripping off the layers? Her body was hunched, her shoulders rigid with tension, her toes pointing like they did in a meeting. And was that her face? Yes, it was. It was her work face. Tight, bland and false.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Robert worked away on the desk in the undercroft. He was now two-thirds through Regina’s confessions. She had remembered some details – ornaments on fireplaces, gilded mirrors in bedrooms – which would send shivers down the victim’s back, if they were true of course. He might need to check one or two details out for himself to make sure that Regina had not just penned elaborate fantasies.

  He tried to imagine asking a director’s wife if she had a small rose tattoo on her left thigh, or checking with the pension fund manager that he only had one testicle. Perhaps the wife of the human resources director could confirm or deny that he smelled of cheese and needed to watch an hour of Japanese pornography before he could engage in the sexual act?

  He tapped notes into his tablet for later consideration. A draft announced that someone else was descending to the undercroft. Regina’s morning teaching had finished and Georgina wanted her coffee and smoke.

  “Shall I make enough for two?”

  “Rather,” said Robert. Georgina pulled out some boxes of dried beans and removed her secret supplies and a small cafetiere. She carried them, stooping to avoid disturbing her hair, through to the dungeon where there was a sink and a calorgas stove. Robert followed.

  “Christ, it po
ngs a bit,” said Robert. “It reminds me of the gym.”

  “That’s because Ness uses it for exercise at night. He does pull ups from the manacles and lifts the rack up and down. He must be extremely strong because I can’t budge it an inch.”

  “Who is this Ness? I heard his name whispered a few times at breakfast.”

  “Regina brought him over from Barlinnie. You must know it, the Glasgow gaol. That’s the story, anyway. None of us have actually seen him. He’s in seclusion – through there.” She pointed at a large steel door. “It’s the gaol pit of the castle. They used to throw the prisoner down into it from the courtyard above. Regina’s turned it into an isolation cell.”

  “Does he need representing?”

  “Regina says he’s there of his own free will. Apparently he’s doing the programme alone and he’s not allowed to ejaculate until the moon ceremony. Regina says Ness will be used for initiations when someone is ready to join Regina in the priestesshood. There are lots of rumours about Ness, about his, you know, prowess.”

  “So now I understand the giggles I heard over the porridge. They said he’s a recovering heroin addict.”

  “That’s one version. I heard it was murder, or manslaughter at least. There was a fight and someone died. The one thing everyone agrees on is that he’s a big man in every respect.”

  “But you said no-one’s seen him.”

  “No, but we’ve heard him. The grunts of him practicing and working out come up out of the goal pit at night. Those are his shaving things by the sink.”

  “What a strange life,” said Robert.

  “Oh, I could live quite happily down here,” said Georgina. “It’s got everything I need. I suppose the bed is a bit uncomfortable.” The bed of the rack had two rows of spikes across the middle.

  “Have you tried it?”

  “I had to once when I overstepped. It’s not too bad if you can relax.”

  She struck a match on the brick wall, lit up, and inhaled deeply, and blew smoke in his direction.

  “Won’t you get found out?”

  “The nicotine police don’t come by this way very often. There’s a no smoking rule on the island but it’s not a capital crime like having an orgasm outside of the moon ceremony. Only two days to go. I’m hoping I’ll get in touch this time, but if necessary I’ll practice at home and come back for the solstice.”

  “Have you seen the giant pussy?”

  “Joni says I must call it a wild cat. No. But the spirit helpers are different for different people. I’m sure mine is a dog. It has long white hair and floppy ears and it encourages me to be cheerful. But then sometimes I think it’s a fish.”

  “Couldn’t you just have a real dog?”

  “Not in my line of work. I fly all over the world for shoots. Last month I was doing bikinis in Mauritius.”

  “Somebody has to do it,” said Robert, having no difficulty picturing Georgina in a bikini.

  “It’s not glamorous like you think. It’s bitchy and boring. And I’m hungry all the time. That’s why I smoke.” She waved ineffectually at the smoke around her head, stubbed out the cigarette, and put the butt down the sink.

  “Do men have any role to play in day to day practice?” asked Robert. “I mean, are you allowed to have sex with a real man?”

  A gust of wind dispersed the cigarette smoke. “I think someone’s coming,” said Georgina. “Can you give the cups a quick rinse and I’ll hide the coffee?” She scooped up her contraband and Robert swished the cups under the cold tap. She still had the cafetiere and cigarettes in her hand when two apparitions wearing wimples appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a tearful woman sandwiched between them.

  “Hello Jocasta,” said Georgina. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” she sobbed. “It’s happened again. I’ve begged Regina to let me stay and she says I can as long as I learn my lesson.” Regina was a few steps behind the miscreant and her spooky guards.

  “And your lesson starts right now,” said Regina. “This way.” The guards, who appeared to be draped in white net curtains, marched Jocasta into the dungeon. They shot a bolt across the door behind them.

  “I’m sorry, Regina. I’m really sorry.” Robert strained to hear Jocasta’s muffled voice, then Regina’s.

  “What do you have to do to show you’re sorry? That’s right… just there.”

  It went quiet for a minute and then Regina continued barking orders.

  “It’s no good. Your tongue’s not strong enough. Take your robes off. Wimple One, unlock the stocks.”

  Robert and Georgina looked at each other.

  “That was a lucky escape. Regina didn’t even notice the cigarettes,” said Georgina.

  “What sin has Jocasta committed?” said Robert.

  “She’ll have gone into the red zone again, third time. Regina’s being very understanding to let her stay.”

  They heard a shriek and a strained voice from the other side of the door. “No, please, not that.”

  “That doesn’t sound understanding to me,” said Robert.

  “Legs apart, Jocasta. Now repeat after me: I must not come…”

  “I must not come…” Smack.

  “Until the day of the moon…”

  “Until the day of the moon…” Smack.

  “Delivers me to…”

  “Delivers me to…” Smack.

  “The animal spirit.”

  “The animal spirit.” Smack, smack. “Again please, Jocasta.”

  “I must not come…” Smack. “Until the day of the moon…” Smack.

  Robert looked to Georgina for some help in deconstructing the events on the other side of the door, but she just shook her head.

  “You have to trust Regina, she knows what she’s doing. There’s no lasting damage. It’s part of the desensitisation process.”

  “But won’t pleasure and pain get mixed up in her head?” said Robert. “It’s gone quiet again.”

  “Release her, Wimple Two.”

  “Thank you Regina, I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “That’s not the lesson. This is the lesson. Up you get. Wimple One, arms and legs please. Make sure she can’t move.”

  They heard the teeth of a wooden ratchet being engaged by the turn of a wheel.

  “Oh my god, be careful. I’m getting splinters in my bottom. I have sensitive skin.”

  “You are learning to control your autonomic system,” said Regina. “Now stop moaning.”

  Robert looked horrified and grabbed Georgina’s wrist. “We can’t let the poor woman suffer.”

  “It’s for her own good,” said Georgina. “And it’s really not that bad. I kind of liked it. Anybody but Jocasta would have been off the island by now. She’s had problems with tranquillisers and booze. She’s on three month’s leave of absence from her job. The deputy editor is covering for her. Jocasta told me she hadn’t felt a thing for two years but since she stopped the drugs everything has become incredibly sensitive. She only has to touch herself and… boom.”

  Georgina’s diagnosis was confirmed by a crescendo of cries from the dungeon. Robert edged to the door so that he could better hear what was going on.

  “Can’t we do anything?” he said. “Could we rescue her?”

  “She’s on the other side of a locked door and the only other way in is through the shaft down from the courtyard and the steel door. So unless you’re Batman and you want to take on Ness single handed…”

  Regina’s steely voice pierced the door: “Continue, Wimple One and Wimple Two, until she learns to control herself. Or would you rather leave the island, Jocasta?”

  “No, please, I want to stay. I want… to feel the power… of the vagina spirit… one day.” Her words were interspersed with sharp intakes of breath as she desperately tried to postpone or better still cancel the approach of the next orgasm. Her gasps became rhythmic cries. Robert sat down at his desk but it was ridiculous to pretend he could calmly carry on his research. Georgina hovered, d
iscomforted but fascinated by the sounds coming from the dungeon.

  “Christ, I know it shouldn’t, but this is making me feel randy as hell,” said Georgina. “It’s like when we do group practice. One of us sets the others off.” She looked at Robert’s crotch and it was obvious that he was having a similar reaction.

  “No, no, please no more…I can’t…oh…yes…yes…YES.” Jocasta’s instruction evidently still had some way to go.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Georgina. “I can’t listen to any more.”

  Georgina led him up the stairs and along the courtyard to the spirit room, decked out in yellowish tapestries and scattered with cushions. Above the fireplace was a vivid painting which could have been a ripe fig or possibly a burst pomegranate. Georgina sat comfortably crossed legged on a big cushion. He stood and looked at her, amazed by the symmetry of her oval face. Shiny black hair fell to her shoulders then curled under her chin, framing dark eyebrows and red lips. She ran her fingers through her hair and her robe slipped off one shoulder.

  “You asked me if men had any role to play in our practice. Let me give you one possible answer.”

  Six

  “I hope you can finish this tonight,” said Caroline. “I have other things to do you know.”

  “I can’t promise,” said Erik. “There’s something missing at the moment. After you left yesterday I nearly stuck a palette knife through it.”

  “God that’s weird. I had terrible indigestion.”

  “Funny how we have the urge to attack the ones we love.”

  “Love? Are you talking crap again Erik?”

  “Why don’t you take your clothes off and I’ll get started. The sooner I start the sooner I’ll finish and then you can go and do your more important things.”

  “But I thought you’d invited me to that party? I’ve bought a little black dress and some heels with me.”

  “Do you still want to come? You don’t mind that I’m going with the friends you disapprove of?”