Submit to Desire
Page 4
Kingsley smiled at her over the top of his glasses.
“Your father is not a good man?”
Charlotte pulled the robe tighter around her. “He’s strict, conservative. I stayed out an hour after curfew when I was sixteen. I was at the movies with a girlfriend and we got ice cream after. He assumed the worst and called me a slut, a whore, everything. He and mom divorced that year finally. I couldn’t let Simon move in with him. Especially since—”
“Your brother is g*y.”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“He interned with g*y rights groups while in college and law school. You dropped out of university and started working so your g*y brother wouldn’t have to live with your conservative father. That’s rather noble of you, Charlie.”
Charlotte stared at the floor.
“My dad would have destroyed Simon. It wasn’t noble. It was my only choice.”
“It wasn’t, but it’s quite telling that you think that. Let’s see,” he said and flipped a few more pages. “You worked as a receptionist at a salon after you quit school and apprenticed there. You were a cocktail waitress at Le Cirque de Nuit a few nights a week as well. Must have been before I bought the club. I would have remembered a fire-breather.”
“You got much better tips if you could do a stunt. The bartender there before Steele taught me the fire-breathing thing.”
“Your brother is in law school now. Full scholarship, I see. There’s no reason you can’t go back to school.”
“I’m a little too old. Besides, I like working. I’ve been out in the real world taking care of myself and Simon since I was nineteen. Don’t think I can go back.”
Kingsley closed the file and leaned forward. He started to open his mouth but a knock on the door interrupted.
“Entréz,” he called out. The butler entered carrying a breakfast tray. He sat it on the floor in front of Charlotte and quickly departed.
“So now you’ve had your shower and you are currently having your breakfast. Let’s discuss the business opportunity you’ve already said no to.”
“Discuss away,” she said after her first delicious bite of pancake. “But it’s still a no.”
“Understandable.” Kingsley stood up and removed his wire-rim glasses. “I’ll talk. You eat.”
“Happily.”
Kingsley strolled leisurely about his bedroom.
“I told you I was no pimp and that’s true. There is a sexual aspect to the work my employees do, but none of them have sexual intercourse for money. At least not on my time clock. The clients we serve are an unusual lot with unusual desires. If they wanted mere sex, they could get that from their husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends. What they want from us is more complicated.”
“You’re talking about kink, right?”
Kingsley nodded. “Oui. Kink. Bondage, domination and sadomasochism. I said I was a talent agent. It wouldn’t be far off the mark to also call myself a matchmaker. I have clients with specific desires, and I try to find a good match for those desires among my coterie. I have a client now—a wealthy businessman, not unattractive—who has found himself longing for a deeper connection than what he has experienced in his recent short-lived relationships. He prefers a beautiful woman somewhere between the age of twenty-five and thirty-five. No preference on race, height, or religion. Strong preference on intelligence—i.e. she must have it. And she must be very brave.”
At his last word he turned around and looked down at her.
“A woman who breathes fire while drunk and comes to my home while sober is about as brave as this town has to offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie?”
Charlotte stared at him. She couldn’t believe what he was asking her.
“Okay…I’m not saying yes or anything. I’m only asking out of curiosity—what exactly would this whole arrangement entail?”
“This particular client enjoys S and M on occasion but is more interested in absolute sexual dominance. He is particularly aroused by fear.”
“So he’s a ra**st?”
“Hardly. Dominants in the lifestyle, as we call it, find submission erotic. Overpowering a woman and taking her by force is an act of assault and violence. A dominant desires his submissive trust him enough to allow him to take her even when she is afraid. Yes, he takes but she gives as well. And you, ma chérie, have all the makings of a world-class submissive.”
“This is bizarre.”
“Is it? Tell me, Charlie, those two blond Barbie dolls you were with last night—that was Sasha Walsh and London Faber, yes?”
“Yes. We met at the salon. I cut their hair.”
“Their parents are worth roughly the state budget of Vermont. They are vapid and dull and spoiled. They are your opposites. Why do you spend time with them?”
“Rich people are easy to hang out with. They have all the money. They make all the decisions.”
“And they left you alone passed out on the floor of my club. Anything could have happened to you—you could have been robbed, assaulted, raped…they are not your friends.”
“I know. That’s why I like hanging out with them. It’s easier that way.”
“Easier to be with people who don’t care about you?”
“Easier to be with people I don’t have to care about. I know—it’s stupid.”
“Your father is not a good man?”
Charlotte pulled the robe tighter around her. “He’s strict, conservative. I stayed out an hour after curfew when I was sixteen. I was at the movies with a girlfriend and we got ice cream after. He assumed the worst and called me a slut, a whore, everything. He and mom divorced that year finally. I couldn’t let Simon move in with him. Especially since—”
“Your brother is g*y.”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“He interned with g*y rights groups while in college and law school. You dropped out of university and started working so your g*y brother wouldn’t have to live with your conservative father. That’s rather noble of you, Charlie.”
Charlotte stared at the floor.
“My dad would have destroyed Simon. It wasn’t noble. It was my only choice.”
“It wasn’t, but it’s quite telling that you think that. Let’s see,” he said and flipped a few more pages. “You worked as a receptionist at a salon after you quit school and apprenticed there. You were a cocktail waitress at Le Cirque de Nuit a few nights a week as well. Must have been before I bought the club. I would have remembered a fire-breather.”
“You got much better tips if you could do a stunt. The bartender there before Steele taught me the fire-breathing thing.”
“Your brother is in law school now. Full scholarship, I see. There’s no reason you can’t go back to school.”
“I’m a little too old. Besides, I like working. I’ve been out in the real world taking care of myself and Simon since I was nineteen. Don’t think I can go back.”
Kingsley closed the file and leaned forward. He started to open his mouth but a knock on the door interrupted.
“Entréz,” he called out. The butler entered carrying a breakfast tray. He sat it on the floor in front of Charlotte and quickly departed.
“So now you’ve had your shower and you are currently having your breakfast. Let’s discuss the business opportunity you’ve already said no to.”
“Discuss away,” she said after her first delicious bite of pancake. “But it’s still a no.”
“Understandable.” Kingsley stood up and removed his wire-rim glasses. “I’ll talk. You eat.”
“Happily.”
Kingsley strolled leisurely about his bedroom.
“I told you I was no pimp and that’s true. There is a sexual aspect to the work my employees do, but none of them have sexual intercourse for money. At least not on my time clock. The clients we serve are an unusual lot with unusual desires. If they wanted mere sex, they could get that from their husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends. What they want from us is more complicated.”
“You’re talking about kink, right?”
Kingsley nodded. “Oui. Kink. Bondage, domination and sadomasochism. I said I was a talent agent. It wouldn’t be far off the mark to also call myself a matchmaker. I have clients with specific desires, and I try to find a good match for those desires among my coterie. I have a client now—a wealthy businessman, not unattractive—who has found himself longing for a deeper connection than what he has experienced in his recent short-lived relationships. He prefers a beautiful woman somewhere between the age of twenty-five and thirty-five. No preference on race, height, or religion. Strong preference on intelligence—i.e. she must have it. And she must be very brave.”
At his last word he turned around and looked down at her.
“A woman who breathes fire while drunk and comes to my home while sober is about as brave as this town has to offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie?”
Charlotte stared at him. She couldn’t believe what he was asking her.
“Okay…I’m not saying yes or anything. I’m only asking out of curiosity—what exactly would this whole arrangement entail?”
“This particular client enjoys S and M on occasion but is more interested in absolute sexual dominance. He is particularly aroused by fear.”
“So he’s a ra**st?”
“Hardly. Dominants in the lifestyle, as we call it, find submission erotic. Overpowering a woman and taking her by force is an act of assault and violence. A dominant desires his submissive trust him enough to allow him to take her even when she is afraid. Yes, he takes but she gives as well. And you, ma chérie, have all the makings of a world-class submissive.”
“This is bizarre.”
“Is it? Tell me, Charlie, those two blond Barbie dolls you were with last night—that was Sasha Walsh and London Faber, yes?”
“Yes. We met at the salon. I cut their hair.”
“Their parents are worth roughly the state budget of Vermont. They are vapid and dull and spoiled. They are your opposites. Why do you spend time with them?”
“Rich people are easy to hang out with. They have all the money. They make all the decisions.”
“And they left you alone passed out on the floor of my club. Anything could have happened to you—you could have been robbed, assaulted, raped…they are not your friends.”
“I know. That’s why I like hanging out with them. It’s easier that way.”
“Easier to be with people who don’t care about you?”
“Easier to be with people I don’t have to care about. I know—it’s stupid.”
