He pressed his body against her and felt himself falling. Over. and over, spinning, going, gone! Although things were foggy, maybe he noticed then he didn't really know that all this while she just lay there with her legs straight out and face turned to one side. That was strange.. She stirred and kissed him. She reached over and tickled his stomach.. Then she eased him back onto his back.
"You're drunk," she said, touching the tip of his nose with her finger.,
"Gloriously so darling!"
She got up and started pulling his clothes off. He tried to help, but couldn't. Vaguely, he remembered that she went to the bathroom and came out with a wet wash towel.
Paulette got him to his feet and he staggered around to the bed. She began kissing him again. No man could drop off to sleep with that He started to pull her down beside him but she said no, she would make love to him.
Nathan was really vague by then, but it was glorious. There he was naked, and she ran her
hands over his body, over his arms… down his 1egs… across his chest. She felt and massaged every nook and muscle she could find. The massage was soothing and all he had to do was enjoy it. He half dozed and got ready to make love to her again.
"No, don't exert yourself. I love to look at your body. You're so handsome. Let me massage you," she said. She did! Dainty little twinkle-fingers walking up and down his spine and he loved it.
That was the night she did something strange for the first time. He didn't think anything about it then, because he had been drinking.
"Nathan, darling," she said. "I want to do something different. Do you mind?"
He understood her. For some reason, he didn't care. He imagined Paulette might want to do something odd. What she did was odd enough, all right, but he wasn't sober enough to realize it then.
"Sweetheart, you just go right ahead."
"Then close your eyes!"
He did, but nothing happened right away. She just kept tickling and kissing him. He drifted off to. sleep. He felt his hands and legs being moved about.., but this was part of the sensuous pleasure he was enjoying. He was vaguely conscious that she was giving him some ever-so-light flat hand slaps around his legs and hips. It stung but he didn't really mind. Not then, anyway.
Nathan wanted to turn over. He pulled, but his arms wouldn't move. Little Paulette giggled. He opened his eyes, and pulled again. He woke up, groggy
"Don't be silly, darling," she said. "Just sleep."
He tried shaking his head to clear it. He wanted to know what it was she liked to do. It seemed to Nathan his legs were stuck to something.
"Nathan, guess what! I've put tape on your arms and legs and tied you to the bed,"
"Damn my soul. You have?" he said groggily. He looked and there were two-inch wide bands of tape around his wrists and ankles and running off the edge of the bed. The joke was on him. He laughed. "Empress, you got yourself a slave now."
"I like to watch your body this way," she said. Oh, well. Everybody's got a different tuning fork.. Some vibrate on various levels. He tried to turn his wrist so he could check his watch, but Paulette had already taken it off his arm. It couldn't last long. he, figured. He'd go soon. "Honey, enjoy what you like," he said.
"Can I, Nathan, darling?"
"Sure" And there's more for sale, he wanted to
say.
She kissed him, all soft and tender, and started massaging again. He wasn't uncomfortable so he drifted off. Then he became conscious of her patting him again just enough to cause a stinging sensation. She was busy at it. It hurt a little.
"Whoa there girl," be said. "A beat mule can't work, you know."
She just laughed – little tickling sounds, he was later to recall She popped him a few good flat-handed licks and let it go at that. She started twinkle-fingering him again. Ah, this was pleasure,
he thought.
But then, to Nathan's horror, he saw Paulette held a leather whip in her hand! She began to lash the bare flesh of his legs, and the whole scene took on a wild, weird frenzy that, even in his grogginess, Nathan found both repellent and overwhelming in excitement. Feverishly, Paulette brought the whip down twice three times, the urgency of her strong tensions most apparent as the whip again thrust up and down like a flickering light.
He could see in her eyes that she wanted to become more frantic in her attack on his bristling fresh. It was evident, too, that she wanted to have his pain mount in intensity as her own urgency increased and yearned to be released. Her fiery eyes said she wanted to come this way; some of that explosion found its way to Nathan's bare legs, and his wandering brain had to come to grips with the fact that this was real.
Paulette's face left no doubt of what had. happened. It was real, all right. She was in ecstasy! Then she put down the whip and kissed each little bruise on his legs, licked them warmly. All pain disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. And Paulette was smiling! A sort of victory smile…
His head was bursting for sleep. Shortly afterward, he felt her on his stomach. Vaguely, he knew he had to get with it. He wished he hadn't played so long because when a man doesn't feel like marching up the walls of Jericho and blowing the bugles, it's hell. He tried remembering the money. Nathan was working at it when it
happened for her all little moans, quivers, tremors, animal cries, squeaks. and hisses. The works. Paulette was something to behold when she went into orbit, he realized. He was glad that she'd been satisfied at last for of course it was with his diligent assistance. He opened his eyes and it was dark. Damn. She'd turned the lights off and he didn't know it.
She turned around, found his ear and whispered. "Thank you, Nathan darling."
"Anytime, Empress," he said. 'I'm your driver, remember."
"You will be more to me. Much, much more," she said. "I like you very much. I need you."
For some reason, Nathan felt an ice-cold prick of intuition twist in his stomach. The tone of her voice, perhaps. A last thought of Nancy came to his wind. He'd cross that bridge tomorrow. He was beat. He dozed off to a long and deep sleep. The last thing he remembered was Paulette being very easy and gentle as she undid the heavy tape from his wrists and ankles.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Nathan Warner woke up the next day, there were little men with booster rockets aimed at each other across the broad span of his brain. They were firing them one by one. His mouth tasted like an Alabama election, it stank. His body was bruised slightly and his skin was stinging, as if he had a sunburn.
She was gone. He got up and went rummaging around for aspirin. Five tablets down, with water, and a second glass lull for a gargle; "I wonder if that dame ever sleeps?" he muttered to himself, talking out loud. He staggered around the room, looking. Where was the white envelope? He checked the carpet to see if it maybe had fallen down. No note. No forty bucks. "The damn bitch," he said aloud.
He showered, shaved and dressed. The aspirin was rumbling in his stomach, doing more work there than on his head. He winked at his watch on the table by the bed He sneaked another glance at it. Two-twenty. Then a hunch hit him for some odd reason. He whipped out his wallet and opened it. There was a note all right in his wallet! "IOU $l20. Thanks, darling. We have a trip to make. Please bring a small overnight bag. Be here at seven, dear! Paulette."
"The hell you say, woman," he said.
He crumpled the note in his hand and threw it on the floor. He stalked out of the room, not even bothering to take down the DO NOT DISTURB sign. He walked the three blocks to his MG, fuming, all burned up. "I got in the MG and drove back to his apartment. He was halfway up the steps to the door when it started hitting him, and he came to a dead stop.