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A Bestiary of Unnatural Women




  A Bestiary of Unnatural Women

  Ashley Zacharias

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2010 Ashley Zacharias

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share it with others. This book may be reproduced, copied, and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided that the book remains in its complete original form, including the authorship and copyright notice.

  Contents

  Forward

  A Most Surprising Date

  Suzie's Lessons

  Riding the Devil's Horse

  Notes from Roissy, Cleveland, Ohio

  Topper

  A Wife of No Small Promise

  A Necessary Beating

  INR

  Portrait of a Wife as a Middle-Aged Woman

  Afterword

  Forward

  This is an anthology of short stories that I wrote between 2008 and 2010. What species are these kinky women who willingly submit to bondage, humiliation, and pain? They have their reasons. But one must wonder why they chose to solve their problems in the ways that they did if each didn’t have at least some tendency toward masochism.

  These stories are not presented in the order in which they are written, but in the approximate order of the development of an intimate relationship, from stories about the first date to stories about mature marriages.

  Like many relationships, they get darker toward the end.

  In “A Most Surprising Date”, a young woman hypothesizes that the most desirable man is the one who is best able to compete against other men. Being a good experimental psychologist, she puts her hypothesis to an empirical test.

  In “Suzie’s Lessons”, a woman with an odd breast fetish submits to a nerdish young man for his use and abuse. But he can’t satisfy her until someone tells him how to act dominant.

  In “Riding the Devil’s Horse”, a woman is intrigued by medieval torture devices. She asks the man she lives with to build one of them and torture her with it, all in the name of research.

  In “Notes from Roissy, Cleveland, Ohio”, a young wife is shocked when she reads her parents’ diaries and discovers that they acted out scenes from The Story of O. Can that kind of thing be done in the Midwest?

  In “Topper” a dinner party with the boss turns out differently than anyone expected. It’s hard to tell who is the most surprised.

  In “A Wife of No Small Promise”, a woman decides to give her husband the sexual adventure of his life. Her mistake is that she thinks that he still loves her. His mistake is that he thinks that he does not.

  In “A Necessary Beating”, a young wife rues her infidelity to her husband and will do anything to win back his trust. She takes it upon herself to introduce him to a new sport.

  In “INR”, a woman thinks that she can make her rape fantasies a reality by unleashing the beast in her husband. But she is more successful at organizing her own rape than she planned.

  In “A Portrait of a Wife as a Middle-Aged Woman”, a wife agrees to spend an hour letting her husband do anything sexual to her that he wants. She thought she knew him but is shocked to discover what kind of sex he desires most of all.

  I hope that you enjoy reading this collection of fantasies as much as I enjoyed writing them.

  Ashley Zacharias, 2010

  A Most Surprising Date

  When Felicity answered the door, Roy was surprised to see the way that she was dressed. Though he had only seen her once before, this was not the first time that she had surprised him.

  The first surprise had been two weeks ago when she had given him her phone number.

  He had invited researchers from a number of local companies to his laboratory to discuss collaboration on a grant application for the development of new human-robotic interfaces. She had come in the company of two engineers from the Barton Kinematics Group so he assumed that she was part of their team. She had not said a single word, but from the moment that he sat down until the meeting ended, she had maintained almost constant eye contact with him across the boardroom table.

  He assumed that she was part of Barton’s strategy. Their engineers had been arguing that he should investigate an interface model that was compatible with their latest product to the disadvantage of their competitors. Their model had some good characteristics – not surprising since they had already based their most successful product on it – and he had been fighting valiantly for a neutral model that would allow others to compete on an equal footing in the marketplace.

  He wanted Barton onside but not at the cost of driving everyone else away.

  Barton, expecting a tough fight, had apparently brought a beautiful woman along to flirt with him across the table on the oft chance that she could distract them. It had almost worked; Roy had had a hell of a time keeping his mind on the details of the two competing models.

  She had said not a word, but as everyone was leaving, had slipped a piece of paper into his hand and had whispered, softly, “I’m Felicity. Please call me at home soon.”

  That was considerably more distraction than was required or expected. In fact, the head of Barton research team, the redundantly named, Tom Thomas, had appeared somewhat taken aback to see the young woman pressing close to him and whispering intimately into his ear.

  For a moment, he wondered if maybe she was some kind of industrial spy, but he shrugged that idea off. He might be a university professor, but he was worldly enough to know not to discuss proprietary information with anyone until they had been straight jacketed with the most restrictive possible non-disclosure agreement.

  He got his second surprise when he phoned her the next day and she had suggested that he come to dinner at her place rather than going out somewhere. That seemed inappropriately intimate for a first date. He had almost balked but she bluntly told him that her invitation was strictly personal. She said that she did not want him to get the wrong idea just because she had met him at a business meeting. She said that she didn't normally attend research-planning meetings but had gone to his only so that she would have a general idea about what was happening. When he probed her a little about which model she supported, she insisted that she didn't give a damn which model he wanted to develop if his grant was approved.

  With that assurance, he had agreed to let her cook dinner for him. She said that she wouldn’t be free until the following weekend and had taken his number and then called back yesterday to give him her address and exact time.

  He had been further reassured by the delay. She was not pressuring him to move quickly but seemed to be in no special rush.

  And now, the third surprise: her dress.

  In the meeting, she had been wearing a conservative navy business suit with a pale beige blouse and low, practical heels.

  Tonight, she had answered her door in rather different attire. When she turned and stepped back from the door, to admit him, he had a chance to appraise her from the floor up. She was wearing black patent-leather stiletto-heeled pumps over black boldly-patterned stockings with a seam up the back. He black miniskirt was so short that it did not cover the clips where her garter belt held up the tops of the stockings. That was the reason that miniskirts did not become the fashion until after pantyhose was invented. Miniskirts and stockings made a wildly immodest combination. When she turned back toward him, her white silk blouse that was so sheer and tight that he could see her pink nipples pressing against the material. No bra constrained her full, round breasts.

  He wondered if she were a junior engineer looking for romance on a Saturday night or a call girl on assignment? The thought of industrial espionage flashed into his mind again. This new mi
llennium Mata Hari was going to be sorely disappointed. While there would be considerable value in his research on human-robot interfaces when it was complete, his work at this stage did not merit this degree of seduction. It was still early in the planning stage and was neither all that secret nor all that important.

  “Don't just stand there enjoying at the view, come on in,” she said, smiling coyly.

  He blushed to realize that he had been standing on her threshold, staring at her, too openly for too long. He told himself that if she were going to dress like a sex object, then she should expect to be appreciated as a sex object, but that logic did not trump the deeply-ingrained social taboo against staring at women's tits and drooling.

  This was no way to start a relationship with a nice girl.

  Then, when he was inside the apartment, he was surprised for a fourth time; and, for the first time, not so happily. He heard low voices coming from the other room. Male-sounding voices.

  She pulled him gently inside, reached up and kissed him lightly with soft lips slightly parted, holding the kiss for long enough to promise much more to come. “Mmm,” she murmured. “You taste good.”

  Was she saying that just to make sure that he understood the meaning of her perfect kiss?

  She took the bottle of wine from his limp hand and led him through a sparsely but tastefully furnished living room into a dining room.

  The round dining table was set for four; two other men were already seated at their places. They looked at him with expressions of ill-masked displeasure. What kind of romantic date was this?

  “Stan, Timothy, this is Roy,” Felicity said. “He is the third player in our game tonight.”

  “Game?” Stan asked, frowning darkly.

  “Not really a game. More like an experiment. There are only a couple of ground rules. Not enough structure to really be called a game. It'll be a kind of interesting life experience for all of us. I’ll explain the details while we eat. First, let me get dinner on the table. Roy, you sit here.” She gestured to one of the empty chairs. “I'll be right back.”

  Roy shrugged and sat down, ignoring glares from the other two men. “What's up?” he asked casually.

  “I don't know,” Stan replied. “I was invited here for dinner. I expected to be dining with Felicity alone.”

  “Me, too,” Timothy volunteered.

  “How do you know her?” Roy asked.

  “I met her at Starbucks last week,” Stan replied. “I was minding my own business, negotiating a deal on my Blackberry and, as soon as I hung up, she started talking to me. She didn't tell me much about herself. She just gave me her number and asked me to call her. Before I could chat her up, she said that she had to get back to work and left the store.” He frowned. “She didn’t even stay to buy a coffee.”

  “So you don't know her any better than me,” Roy replied.

  “How do you know her?” Stan asked.

  “Almost the same story, but it was after a business meeting. I’d never seen her before. She gave me a card and asked me to call.” He looked at the third man at the table, “Do you know anything about her?”

  The man who had been introduced as Timothy shook his head. “Nope. I was working out at the gym last Sunday and she came up to me when I was cooling down and gave me her number. She wasn't wearing sweats, just jeans and a sweater. I'd never seen her there before so I think she came as a guest.”

  Roy nodded thoughtfully. Timothy looked like a gym rat. Not an over-developed body-builder but a real athlete under his off-the-rack polyester suit. Stan, on the other hand, had more of a vice-president-of-sales look. His suit was properly tailored and, from it's slight sheen, Roy guessed that it was probably a blended silk-wool worsted that would be light and comfortable in the summer heat but wouldn't be particularly durable. Stan looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't wear the same suit for two seasons in a row.

  The three men at the table couldn't have been more different from each other. Felicity didn't seem to favor any particular type when choosing men for her group date.

  Or maybe she was very particular about getting exactly the right assortment of men for whatever “experiment” she was planning.

  He didn't have long to think about it before she bustled back into the room with plates of food. She set one in front of him and another in front of Stan. Both men waited politely while she went back to the kitchen to retrieve two more plates.

  When she sat down, she said, “Okay, gentlemen. Bon appetite.” As soon as she lifted a forkful of mashed potatoes to her lovely lips, the three men dug in themselves.

  Each plate was appointed with a half dozen baby carrots, a scoop of mashed potatoes, already dressed with gravy, a slice of roast beef with a spoonful of horseradish next to it, and a large spoonful of cole slaw. Simple, hearty food that was easy to cook and easy to eat.

  Roy noted that she had not opened or served the wine that he had brought, nor had she offered drinks of any kind except for the glass of ice water that had already been set at each place.

  As soon as the men began eating, Felicity began to speak. “Gentlemen, welcome to my home. I know that you are feeling a little confused right now, so let me explain myself. The situation is simple enough. I recently met each of you and was strongly attracted to you. I would like to spend the rest of the evening making love with one of you. This is unusual for me. For the most part, I have had a fairly average sex life. Tonight, though, you will find me rather adventuresome in bed. No reasonable consensual sexual act is off limits, except for group sex. I will be available to only one of you. It's now six o'clock. There's an alarm clock in the living room that's set to ring at seven o'clock. If there is only one man in my apartment when the alarm sounds, I will give him a night that we will both long remember. If there is more than one man here, then I will ask you all to leave and I will spend the night alone and disappointed. That's it. Oh, except for one other thing. I will absolutely not make the decision about which man will spend the night here. In fact, I will not contribute to the decision in any way, direct or indirectly. It is entirely up to you to decide which one of you gets me and which two will leave empty handed. I don't care how you make your decision, only that you decide before seven. The clock is ticking, gentlemen, so I suggest you get to work.” She fell silent and began eating her dinner.

  The three men sitting at the table looked at each other in shock, the implications of her rules slowly sinking in.

  After a minute, Roy looked at Felicity with amusement. He had come prepared to seduce her. Undoubtedly, the other two men had come with exactly the same intention. But, under her rules, seduction was irrelevant; no one had to convince her of anything. She had presented herself as nothing but a passive prize, leaving it up to the men to devise their own game and honor their own rules.

  Felicity broke the silence. “Eat up, gentlemen. I hope you like the food because this is all that I have prepared. Dessert won't be served until seven. That will be me and only one of you can partake. But I will do my best to make sure that I'll be the most enjoyable desert that one of you ever had.”

  The men ate their food in silence, each thinking about how he might win the prize from the other two.

  Roy appreciated the woman's wisdom of not serving alcohol with the meal. A drunken brawl at this point would be a stupendously bad idea.

  The meal did not last long. Maybe five minutes, tops. When Felicity began clearing the table, Timothy stood up as well and said, “Okay. This is pretty clear to me. We clear the furniture out of the living room and get to it. Last man standing gets the girl.”

  Stan replied, flatly, “And you're sure that you're going to be the last man standing.”

  “I can press two fifty.”

  “You think you can take both of us together?” Roy asked.

  “One at a time would be more reasonable, but I'd give odds that I could take both of you weenies at the same time in a fair fight,” Timothy sneered.

  “But can you take on four cop
s?” Roy asked. “They don't fight fair. They use nightsticks and tasers and handcuffs.”

  “Huh?”

  “You assault one of us and the other one is going to call nine one one. The cops will have you out of here before you can blink and that will give Stan and me lots of time to flip a coin for the girl.”

  Timothy flushed with anger. “You pussy. Only an asshole would call the cops on a fair fight.”

  “Whatever. Just put the whole free-for-all brawl idea out to pasture. It's not going to happen. The first guy to throw a punch will be the first guy out the door.” Roy glanced at Felicity. Her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Then he glanced at Stan. He was smiling confidently.

  There was a minute of silence, then Stan said, “If it's up to us, we can make a rather different decision than the one that she gave us.” He spoke as though Felicity were not in the room; or maybe as though she were an object with no volition of her own. Which was exactly how she had presented herself. “Her rules don't have to be binding. There's nothing to stop us from deciding to stay and share equally. The only question is who gets which hole first. I think a couple of coin flips will decide that.”

  “Oh, no,” Felicity said quickly. “I made that clear. Only one guy gets dessert. The other two get nothing.”

  Timothy looked back at her with flat, reptilian eyes. “You don't get to set all the rules, lady. You've had your fun; now we're going to have our own kind of game.”

  Stan nodded. “It'll be your word against ours. And, considering that you invited three strange men to your apartment all at the same time, your word won't carry much weight.”

  Felicity smiled enigmatically. “It's not about my word, it's simple physics.” She stood and stepped back from the table to give all three men a clear view. To their surprise and joy, she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. As Roy and the others had already realized, she was not wearing a bra. Her breasts, full and round underneath the silk, proved to be wonderfully nubile when exposed to view. He heard Timothy gasp and Stan chuckle softly.