Gregory, Lisa (37 page)

The
door opened and Pearl unceremoniously entered. Her eyes flicked over Katherine
shrewdly, and Katherine tried to keep her own gaze steady. Pearl sat down
heavily on the bed.

"Well,
dearie? Made up your mind yet?"

"Your
proposal has its merits," Katherine said, amazed at how calmly her words
came out. "It is true that I would be making them pay for what they would
only take by force otherwise. And I'd like the thought of making my own money,
not having to depend on them." Would the woman buy this about-face? She
certainly looked suspicious. Perhaps she ought to put up more protest.
"But the thing is, I'm not very good at it. I don't like men and I don't
enjoy their pawing me."

Pearl
laughed harshly. "Nobody says you have to enjoy it, luv. In fact, you're
better if you don't. Girls who get too concerned with their own pleasure forget
to concentrate on giving
him
pleasure, and that is what you get paid
for. Best whores I've known have been cold as ice or found their fun with other
women."

Katherine
stared, and again Pearl cackled. "Shock you? But no matter; you won't be
innocent long. We'll fix you up. Dress you right. Show you a few tricks of the
trade. I think gold would be best for you. Set off those wild eyes of
yours."

Katherine's
heart leaped. She had believed her bluff. Now they would let her go down into
the red room and from there it would be easy to escape, surely.

As
if she could read her thoughts, Pearl snapped, "Don't think for a minute
that I trust you. I've got my eye on you, and if you try anything, you'll
regret it." She opened the door and called, "Paul! Come in here. It's
time for a little demonstration. Bring Sally with you." She closed the
door and turned back to Katherine. "The first thing to remember is to do
whatever a customer asks. If he wants you to stand on your head, then do it.
That's what he pays for. And always pretend you enjoy what he does to you.
Pretend he brings out passion in you. Build him up; admire him; praise
him."

She
broke off as the door opened and a large, muscular man entered followed by a
woman with red-tinted hair and aging skin. Katherine felt sick—what were they
going to do?

"This
is Paul, dearie, he throws out the customers when they start breaking up the
place—and helps keep my girls in line." She grinned evilly and Katherine
felt more than a touch of fear. He could break her in half. "Now, Paul,
this girlie don't know much about men; so we are going to show her. Take off
your clothes."

Paul
grinned and began to disrobe, obviously proud of his physique, but Katherine
blushed furiously. Yet to her shame, she found herself comparing him to Matthew
and thinking with longing of Matthew's lean, sinewy frame.

"Now,
unless he tells you different, you don't attack a man; tease him at first.
Touch him very lightly, like a feather. Sally, show her what to do."

Katherine
watched, shocked, as Sally began to caress him. She reeled inwardly, watching
the two obey without question any direction given them by Pearl.

Good
Heavens, she thought, what was she doing; she ought to be thinking about
escape. The door was unlocked and the guard naked and hardly paying attention.
But Pearl stood between her and the door. If only she could maneuver to get
closer to the door, get Pearl on the other side of her. She slowly moved away
from the bed, as if to get a better view of the demonstration. She stood a
little behind Pearl and to one side. Pearl didn't seem to notice; she was
intent on the couple on the bed.

So
that's it, thought Katherine: she enjoys watching. No wonder she wanted to hold
a demonstration for me. Suddenly Katherine shoved Pearl hard and she went
tumbling onto the bed on top of Paul and Sally. Katherine whirled and darted
through the door and closed it behind her, shoving the heavy bolt to. Let
them
be the prisoners, she thought in satisfaction. Then she scampered down the
narrow, winding staircase. The stairs ended abruptly after one flight, and she
found herself in a sumptuous red-carpeted hallway. Above, Pearl and her
employees were shouting and beating on the door, and all along the hallway,
doors opened and curious girls peered out. Katherine ran blindly down the hall
and at last came to the main staircase. None of the girls tried to stop her;
she caught a glimpse of her voluptuous visitor of yesterday, laughing.

Down
the stairs she darted and across the salon to the heavy double doors leading
into the hallway. Futilely she tugged at the doors; they were locked tight. For
a moment she froze. What on earth was she to do? Over her head the clamor
continued, and now she heard the heavy, running footsteps. There must be
another guard. Frantically she looked around her. A window! She ran to it and tried
to push it up, but it wouldn't budge. Then she saw a small hassock, lifted
it—Lord, how heavy it was!—and hurled it through the window. The glass broke
with a gratifying crash, but before she could throw herself through it, someone
grabbed her from behind, squeezing the breath from her. Ineffectually she
flailed about with her arms and legs. Painfully he twisted one arm behind her,
and she cried out. But one frantic hand grabbed a heavy ashtray and she blindly
struck back at him with it. Luckily she managed to hit his head and he released
her, crumpling to the floor.

Katherine
retained her wits enough to kneel beside him and relieve him of his knife and
pistol. Then she ran for the window and crawled out, not even noticing that she
cut her arm in doing so. She looked back to see Paul and Pearl at the top of
the stairs, he ludicrously naked and wielding a gun. She fired at him to slow
him down, but didn't come close to hitting him. She whirled and ran out into
the street—and stopped short at the sight of her phony rescuer casually
strolling down the street. He at once took in the situation and begun to run
toward her. She raised the gun and fired again, but it clicked uselessly. Damn!
It wasn't a revolver, just an old single-loader. She hurled it from her in
disgust. Then she remembered the knife still gripped in her other hand, took
it, aimed, and tossed it at him. He went down heavily, clutching his shoulder.
Thank God for Peljo's lessons. She dashed across the street and began to run in
earnest, hoping she was running in the direction of Matthew's ship.

Behind
her she heard running footsteps, but forced herself not to look back; it would
only slow her down. The sound gained on her; it was right behind her—soft,
slapping steps. Barefoot? Paul! Had she had the breath or time, she would have
laughed. A woman clad only in her chemise and a stark naked man racing through the
city streets. Suddenly he thudded into her and she went tumbling to the
pavement, striking her head sharply. Everything went black.

When
she came to, she was back in the room in the bordello. Softly she began to cry.
They had caught her; she was back—worse than when she started. Her head ached
terribly; her throat and mouth were dry, her stomach nauseous. And she couldn't
move. Was she paralyzed? She turned her head and the world swam sickeningly.
She closed her eyes and waited for the world to right itself, then cautiously
opened her eyes again. She was tied! Her arms were outspread and a rope tied
around her wrists and around the bedposts. Gingerly she lifted her head and
looked at her legs; they were tied the same way. And she was naked, with no cover.

The
door opened and Pearl entered. She walked to the bed and leaned over Katherine,
her face filled with anger. Suddenly her hand lashed out and slapped Katherine
twice. Katherine's head buzzed and she almost passed out again. Those pudgy
hands, covered as they were with rings, packed a wallop.

"That
was stupid, girlie," Pearl spat out. "I gave you a chance to
cooperate. Now I'll have to be less pleasant. You have wounded Parker so badly,
I'm afraid he is not up to dealing with you. But we have a customer who enjoys
a little taming; I have sent a special invitation to His Lordship. Just
think—you'll be entertaining a baron tonight!" She grinned wickedly.
"But for right now, we have Paul to help prepare you for the honor this
evening. Poor boy, he's somewhat out of sorts. You see, his feet—and his
pride—are somewhat sore. Paul!"

His
bulking shape loomed above her; his look was far from pleasant. He unbuttoned
his trousers and began to stroke himself until his manhood stiffened. She tried
to restrain her fear as he lowered his body onto hers and roughly entered her.
She refused to cry out, biting her lower lip until it bled, digging her
fingernails into her palms. Finally he stopped and removed the crushing weight
of his body from her. Gratefully, she relaxed her tense body, but then she
realized that he was not leaving. He unfastened the ropes from the bedposts and
roughly turned her over on her stomach. Then he began to retie the ropes. What
in the world was he doing to her? She began to struggle, suddenly struck with
terror. Her arms and legs were stiff from being tied and he was far stronger
than she, but Katherine managed to land a few blows before he got her retied.

For
a moment he did nothing, just looked down at her, then said, "You put me
to a little trouble, girl. And I intend for you to remember me."

The
bed creaked under his weight as he straddled her. She choked back her cries as
he entered her, held in her tears of pain and humiliation; she wouldn't give
him the satisfaction. At last his body shuddered and he withdrew. He patted her
bottom and strolled out of the room. Only then did Katherine burst into tears,
burying her face in the bed to stifle her sobs.

"Oh,
Matthew," she moaned. When would he come for her? He had to come.

Hours
crept by. Her arms and legs ached from their spread-eagled position. She was
hungry and thirsty. Her face was sticky and itching from crying. Stubbornly she
refused to call out, to ask for anything to eat or drink. That was what they
wanted; they wanted to break her, to bring her so low that she would submit to
anything. Well, she wouldn't; she would show them they could not break her. She
would hold out until Matthew arrived.

At
last someone came and untied her and turned her over. She was too stiff and
cramped to move, let alone put up a struggle as they retied her. Tears of rage
sprang into her eyes and she began to curse them, screaming every insult she
had ever heard Matthew or his men use. Pearl just chuckled gleefully.

"Go
ahead, dear; His Lordship will like that. Gets him all excited."

Her
tormentors left the room and Katherine subsided.

A
few moments later the door again opened and a well-dressed, graying man
entered.

"Hello,
my dear," he said pleasantly and strolled over to look at her. "Very
nice. Very nice indeed. My compliments to Pearl."

He
squeezed the inside of her thigh painfully, then slid his gloved hands up over
her body. His hands roamed her, squeezing and pinching, till she yearned to cry
out. Why on earth did he keep on his gloves? It was so ludicrous that, but for
the pain and humiliation, it would have been almost funny. His eyes took on a
new glitter as he withdrew a small stick from his pocket, a stick to which were
attached tiny leather thongs. Katherine flinched involuntarily and he smiled.
He applied the tiny whip to her in sharp little slaps. The little strings of
leather hardly cut her flesh but were extremely painful, like hundreds of
stinging little nettles hitting her skin. Finally she began to cry from the
pain of it, and then he unbuttoned his trousers, shoved himself into her, and
came quickly. He withdrew, rebuttoned his trousers, replaced the tiny whip in
his pocket, and withdrew a small brown bottle.

"A
parting gift," he said and smiled agreeably.

He
took a little dab of ointment from the bottle and rubbed it into her wounds. It
felt nice and warm; how peculiar he was. Then he replaced the bottle, removed
his gloves, and said, "Good-bye."

Katherine
stared after him in stunned silence. Her mind and body felt so bruised and
battered she couldn't even come up with any coherent thought. Gradually the
warmth of the ointment changed into a burning, itching torment and she writhed
with the pain of it, choking and gasping on her own sobs. They left her for
hours in her debased position, wracked with the burning. At last they came and
untied her, threw a blanket over her and left her to huddle into a little ball
and cry herself to sleep.