Sex, Lies and Her Impossible Boss

‘You’re kidding?’

‘No. It’s where Miss Kitty lives. Her clients are some of the most well-known people in Sydney. High society. Celebrities, soap stars, footy players. Anyone with cash goes to Miss Kitty’s parties.’ Faith glanced at him. She wondered if Miss Kitty’s world would be his scene.

‘What happens at these parties?’

‘I’ve only been to one. I’ve seen men being led around on dog collars and women whose butts were red raw from spanking.’

To be honest, she’d been a little frightened and mortified when she’d first visited Kitty, but if her show had taught her anything it was to open her mind and find the source of pleasure in every act.

‘That doesn’t sound very sexy.’

‘It’s not the action so much as the feeling. Of being dominated. Of dominating. Of being in control or out of control. Like I said—sex isn’t always just sex.’

‘Is this what you’re into?’ Cash asked her quietly. She felt his eyes on her and was glad her window was down. He seemed to be asking as if he were interested in her answer. As if he wanted to know. As if the mistake she’d made earlier didn’t matter. As if he liked her anyway.

‘I like to try and understand relationships. The idea of being dominated or dominating has a lot to do with what one needs outside the bedroom. Sex is a manifestation of our whole life. Our attitude towards it is shaped by our lives—the way we feel about ourselves, our fears, our pasts.’

He reached for the knobs of the radio and twisted, finding a station that was playing country music. Faith glanced at him—she didn’t take him for a country-music fan.

‘Sounds like you’re reading way too much into it.’ Cash stared ahead. ‘In my experience, sex has nothing to do with how you feel and more to do with what you want. Which is usually power. Sex is about power. Who has it, who wants it. And once you have the power, you can make someone do anything you want.’

Faith’s neck prickled and her mouth dried up. ‘Is that what you do? Have sex with women to have power over them?’

She felt his eyes hot on her. She knew he was looking at her intently, in that way he always did.

‘I have sex for pleasure. I don’t let emotions play any part. No one gets hurt that way.’

‘Someone always gets hurt.’

Cash didn’t say any more; he just turned to look out of the window and they stayed in silence as the sound of Johnny Cash singing ‘Ring of Fire’ rang through the car.

* * *

Miss Kitty was in a bad mood. She’d had a load of cancellations. Apparently a competitor had opened up close by and was offering discounts.

‘As if it’s a supermarket!’ Kitty had bright blue hair and black fingernails but other than that she didn’t look too different from the other women walking the streets of the leafy northern suburb. She had on jeans and a long white top with colourful beads slung around her neck.

While they toured her seemingly suburban house, Cash asked her about being a submissive. He wanted to know what it meant and why anyone would want to submit to another. Faith almost laughed. Trust Cash to not understand submission. It was a question, however, that seemed to make Kitty bristle. ‘It’s men like you who make the best submissives, honey. Men who think they can control everything and everyone. Being a submissive is about being attentive. Being aware of the needs of your dom. Doing whatever they need whenever they need it. It makes you a better lover. A devoted lover. Which is the best kind.’

Faith watched Cash’s face. He wasn’t comfortable here. He wasn’t comfortable in Kitty’s dungeon. He wasn’t interested in her pulleys and straps. He didn’t even touch her collection of whips.

‘Can we have a minute to look around ourselves?’ Faith wondered if Miss Kitty would agree. She was mostly a private person but Faith had managed to gain her trust over the last few months. Kitty blinked and folded her arms.

‘What about him?’ She nodded towards Cash as if he weren’t there.

Faith winked and met Kitty’s suspicious stare.

‘I’ll take care of him.’

SEVEN

Kitty nodded and left, clicking the door shut quietly behind her. When she left, the room seemed darker and eerily quiet. Silence. That was what Cash had said he wanted, but as she turned to him he looked anything but comfortable.

‘I think I’ve seen enough.’ He unfolded his tightly wound arms and moved towards the door but Faith moved quicker. She laid a hand on his exposed forearm and felt his dark hairs tickle her palms.

‘Wait, not yet.’ She needed him to understand. She needed him to see what this was about and why people needed to know. ‘Let’s just take a little look around.’

In the little light they had down here, Cash looked taller, darker and angrier. Faith shivered. His scowl should have frightened her, but it didn’t. It was making her feel soft and almost liquid. She let go of his skin and moved to the leather-covered massage table at the side of the room.

‘This is the “whipping table”,’ she explained and he moved a little closer to inspect it.

‘Sounds barbaric.’

‘Nothing happens down here that you don’t want to. There are rules to make sure everyone’s safe.’

‘Whipping someone for pleasure doesn’t sound safe to me.’

His arms were twisted again and his face still hard. Faith’s stomach flipped. She recognised the feeling. Desire. She’d felt it before. Plenty of times. It wasn’t unusual to feel desire for a handsome man. But not her boss, not Cash. And not here.

She moved away from the table and to the cage that stood in the corner. It was big enough for two and when she’d come to Miss Kitty’s party there were two scantily clad women inside, kissing and licking and working themselves up into a frenzy. Faith stepped in. It was a small space and she felt fear for a moment, before turning to meet the eyes of Cash, who was watching her. Who hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

‘Safety is about trust. When you trust someone, you let them do things you wouldn’t normally,’ she said as he stepped closer and watched her through the bars.

‘It’s very dangerous to trust someone,’ Cash said, his eyes narrowing.

He moved closer to the door and placed his hands either side of the opening. His presence there made Faith’s heart speed up. He still looked big and angry. Definitely not safe.

‘If you don’t trust anyone, you can never be yourself. Isn’t that exhausting? Putting on a face? Trying to keep everyone at arm’s length?’ she asked.

‘I am myself. I don’t pretend to be anyone else.’

‘But you’re worried about trusting someone. Why?’

Faith watched a shadow fall across Cash’s face. A shadow that made his eyes go dark and his lips clamp together. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?’

Faith stepped back as Cash finally stepped into the cage. It was only a small space. Just enough room for two. He wasn’t touching her but she could feel the heat from his chest against hers.

‘I’m a journalist. That’s what I do.’

‘A good journalist listens—they don’t talk.’ His voice had deepened dangerously and Faith felt it vibrate around her. He filled the space with his body and his heat and his voice. Faith felt a little overwhelmed by it, by him. Something was happening as she stood watching him. Here in this dark space she felt less like herself. Bolder. Braver and a little out of control. She lifted her hands to grip the bars on either side of her and tilted her chin.

‘I’m listening now.’ His face was inches from hers, his dark eyes intent on hers, not moving—not even to watch her talk. He was looking into her and something warm and a little reckless washed over her. Trust. She trusted him. Carefully she moved her hands and splayed them across his chest. It was hard and tense. She shifted her fingers, massaging—trying to loosen him up, relax him. She wanted him to melt a little, as she was.

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