Page 9 of The Secret Stalker
“My real name on your lips is something I’ve longed to hear since the first time we met.”
“Rob— Rory,” I correct myself. “That’s been over two years,” I say. “What is happening now?”
“I want to make our time together more personal, more meaningful, and that starts with sharing my real name and ends with you moaning it. Shall we get started?” We are still standing just behind his front door after all, one I’ve never visited.Did he get a new apartment or does he have many?I wonder,not knowing much about Rory like most of my clients. I turn my head to look around at the dark paneled walls painted in a luxe navy blue. I want to ask him a question about wherewe are but I know better than to ask. I know he said things are different but until I see how different he intends to be, I’m going to stick to how I usually conduct myself on our bookings.
Rory reaches for my hand, his warm fingers sliding around mine, making me tense initially and then I let myself relax into the feeling of being held by Rory. His hand feels big and soft around mine, engulfing mine firmly and holding it hard enough to know he’s holding it tight but not to hurt, to mean something else. What, I do not know. If I thought using his real name felt personal, holding his hand feels positively intimate. I feel like I’ve been booked for the girlfriend experience rather than an electro play job and the Clarendon doesn’t even offer a girlfriend experience. We haven’t moved from the door still, but I can feel the warmth of his forearm brushing against mine, he’s standing so close. “Would you like a glass of champagne?” he asks brightly as though he’s offered me a glass of champagne every time I’ve arrived for one of his bookings.
“Sure, Rory, that would be lovely,” I reply, happy for the drink yet unsure why it’s being offered. It’s definitely backing up my girlfriend experience theory. Pleased by my answer, he begins to walk us down the corridor past a number of closed doors and to the right into a lofty, high-ceilinged room with a sleek black marble kitchen bench and expansive lounge room. What catches my attention is the view. I stare at the glistening waters of the Melbourne Bay. The blue sea extends for as far as my eyes can see and the view is breathtaking. “Rory, the view,” I say, stunned and taking it in. Rory leads me past the kitchen, the dining table and sofas to stand at the far end of the room looking out to sea. I have a fairly decent apartment and can see glimpses of the sea from a great distance away, but not this close and this beautiful.
“Do you love it?” he asks, standing close behind my back so I can feel the warmth of his breath close to my ear.
“I love it, is this view all yours?” I ask.
“I knew you would. Yes it is.”
“You did?” I ask, wondering when I’d mentioned sea views before. Our previous sessions are nearly always the same; Rory says very little except the minimum pleasantries, he undresses me, directs me to lie on his bed and blindfolds me. Then he proceeds to terrorize me with the impending pain of the electro shocker. He likes to watch me come undone in the anticipation of where he will strike on my body next. I like the exhilaration of every shock and how the pain tingles through my body. There is no denying I also like giving myself over to him, for him to get riled up in his power of dominance, in his control. Then I come undone, completely at his mercy. And as the time has gone on, I know what to expect from him, our working relationship is now one of trust and familiarity. But never personal. Never talking, never champagne, not like right now.
“I just want the best for you, Sophie,” Rory smiles at me proudly, squeezing my hand gently.
I’m not sure how I should reply to this. Robert—RoryI correct myself in my head. He’s not acting himself. Mack sent me here, and that is not normal either. Why is everything not as it seems any more? Everything I am experiencing is nothing like what I was expecting. I like this new deviation from my usual though, so I’ll play along. “Thank you,” I say, “but you really don’t need to do anything for me, you’re the client.”
“Everything is for you,” he stares into my eyes and all I see are blown pupils of desire. I bite my tongue with the ‘huh?’ that comes to mind. Instead I ask with my eyes but leave the question unsaid on my lips.
“Here. Come sit,” he guides me over to a low sleek black leather sofa. “I’ll open the champagne while you enjoy the view,” as though it’s me who is the client and we have switched roles.
“T-thank you,” I say, confused and pleased by the offered drink as I settle myself down on the sofa to watch the waves break out to sea. I hear a fridge open and glasses being arranged on the kitchen counter. Then I jump at the sound of the popping of the cork. I turn to see Rory, in his usual dark trousers and crisp white polo shirt open at the neck, walk towards me holding two flutes of champagne. He hands me a flute and sits down at my end of the long sofa to touch his glass to mine.
“To new beginnings,” he repeats his words from earlier. I repeat the words, having absolutely no idea what our new beginnings actually are but I’ve made the decision, I’m ready for a new beginning, whatever it looks like. Apparently Rory and potentially Mack know what that is about to look like. Seems odd, but fuck it. I take a sip of the bubbling golden liquid and enjoy the popping on my tongue as I swallow the crisp liquid down. I sit back a little deeper into the sofa and look out of the window, absorbing the view. I can feel Rory’s eyes on me so I turn to see him enjoying his view. He’s smiling at me like whatever is going on in his head is making him happy.
“What’s changed?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Nothing has changed per se. I’m dropping the act. I want our time together here today to feel less like a paid exchange and more relaxed. Do you mind?”
“Do I mind?” I can’t help but laugh. “Of course not. You have no idea how much I want to speak to clients. I’m used to being professional, doing my job and understanding what a client wants but I always crave knowing more. That’s often the downside of the job. The disconnect caused by the privacy policy.”
“It’s felt on our side too,” Rory confirms which is nice to hear actually. I had always assumed my clients liked it this way. No questions, no-strings-attached job bookings. I can feel thewarm glow of the champagne hitting my bloodstream as I lower my professional guard and try to give in to the allure of what feels more like a date than a work commitment. How can it not? I am in the company of a sophisticated, attractive man in his thirties who wants to share a view and a glass of champagne with me. I’ve been around a lot of men and clients but Rory knows I will always apply for his jobs if I see them. I’m pretty sure I am the only playmate he chooses each month but I don’t know for sure so I ask him.
“May I ask, do you post any jobs other than the electro play ones?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I can’t help myself, let’s blame it on the champagne.
“It’s my thing, my kink. I have considered trying something new, but the thought of playing with your body in such a way, nothing ever feels even close to inviting.”
“That’s fair. What about if it were a partner’s kink, would you try that?”
“Absolutely. What is your kink Sophie?” Rory’s direct question makes me blush.
“Well, I always take your jobs,” I say coyly.
“And…” he prompts.
“I enjoy being dominated. But you know that already. I think that is my number one. I think you are asking the wrong person. I have many kinks, I don’t think I would be a very good playmate if I didn’t. I am game for a lot of things.”
“You are, but I am the lucky one, that you choose to always apply for my kink jobs.”
“It’s not just the kink,” I say way too boldly—now I know the bubbles are going to my head. I look at my glass in surprise to see it’s almost empty along with Rory’s. I will be the first to admit I have my favourite clients. Jobs I can guess are theirsby their wording, those are the ones I always apply for. Luckily for me, I’m always chosen for the ones I apply for. And I try not to miss my favourites too. Then I follow up with another question. “Does anyone else apply for your jobs, do you play with any other playmates?”
