CHAPTER 1
The street, like freshly laid tar, shone under the yellow streetlights after the storm. A
tallish, slim figure tightly wrapped from head to toe in a black coat and hood passed
under a circle of light near the end of the block then disappeared again, slipping through
into darkness, leaving ovals of boot prints on the slick sidewalk, all shining.
Moments later, a second figure appeared, dark hair uncovered, blowing wildly in the misty
wind, barely avoiding the spotlight of the streetlamp as she moved her hair out of her
eyes and pulled her coat more snugly against her body. Nina leaned tightly against the
side of a brick warehouse building, one of many that lined the sidewalk. She squinted in
the darkness, looking nervously in the direction she`d come, then closed her eyes for a
minute, breathing heavily, envisioning the woman nude, the shine of her smooth skin, how
she would feel, why she was doing this stupid thing...
The rumble of distant thunder seemed to approach and push at her like the swipe of a
strong hand. "Keep moving," it seemed to say, "keep moving." With a
shiver, she looked up into the eerie night sky. Thick grey clouds moved heavily, like
regiments above her, as if leading her in the direction she must go. The sound of
footsteps was disappearing quickly down the deserted industrial street. Nina hesitated
only a moment longer before crossing quickly to the other side. There was no moon for
guidance. She strained to catch the direction of the footsteps. As she followed they
suddenly seemed to fade, a deeper sound, a slight echo, and then silence.
"Shit," she mumbled under her breath, squinting into the misty fog that snarled
her view, trying to make out the figure that had been there only moments before. Nothing.
The wind whipped at Nina, her coat and hair now drenched with moisture from the heavy fog.
She listened, straining. No footsteps. Just the amplified sound of water trickling
steadily out of metal drainpipes that hung from the sides of the buildings; down the pipes
and into the gutters it tumbled until dropping at last, down, down, down into the black
maze of the sewers deep beneath the surface of the street where Nina stood, undecided.
Frustrated, she kept moving on to where she thought she had last heard the footsteps. On
her right an archway appeared, and a set of heavy iron steps leading down into what looked
like a dark chasm, a gash in the earth`s surface, but it was only a passageway leading
down into the building made alien by the eerie whiteness of the fog-cloaked night. Nina
leaned in and listened. The sound of muffled footsteps escaped unobtrusively into the
night air. Quickly, she followed.
The short flight of iron stairs let her off at the beginning of a long tunnel that
stretched out before her. Nina hurried along, hoping she was following the right person,
but too worried about the alternative of being completely alone in the middle of nowhere
to turn back now. The tunnel sloped downward slightly and curved around to the left. The
wind chased her from the street, whistling through the tunnel, forcing her to move faster
and faster and faster until boom! She found herself suddenly teetering at the top of a
dangerously steep metal stairway. Nina grabbed onto the railing with both hands, making
herself a barrier against the push of the wind at her back. The steps seemed to sway
beneath her as they swooped down in a tight, steep spiral that disappeared into the
dimness. She could see right through them, right through the intricate metal grating.
Nina`s heart skipped a beat and she clutched more tightly at the railing, suddenly ill,
trying to steady herself, while the world spun around her.
I can`t go down those, she thought in a panic. I can`t, I can`t.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself. The footsteps were so faint now
she could barely make them out. Again the alternative presented itself: alone in this
place, on whatever street this was. She had no choice. She had followed too quickly, too
blindly to find her way back now, alone, she was certain.
But what if I`m not following the right footsteps? The thought made her stomach tighten.
The sound was so far away now it was almost silent on the landing. Her chest ached with
tension and she growled in frustration, never one to enjoy the pressure of split-second
decision-making. This time, before thinking another thought, Nina plunged breathlessly
down the steps, moving steadily, concentrating only on the next step and not allowing her
eyes to focus beyond the grate, letting her body, and adrenaline, lead her into the
depths.
Tiny lights were set into the walls that Nina passed as she moved swiftly downward. They
cast strange shadows through the grating, creating patterns of dim light and frightening
abstract forms on the walls that moved as Nina did. She felt drugged, a slow motion
apparition, nothing familiar here. Time seemed to bend and warp as she moved deeper and
deeper underground and through the passage. The air grew icy the further she descended.
Her soft-rubber-soled rain boots took note of the grating pattern and made little sound.
A sudden rush of warm air stopped Nina with a jolt, every muscle flexed, ears straining
for sounds. A door shut with a muffled, carpeted sound, then silence. No footsteps. She
held her breath, didn`t move. It seemed a long time that she stood this way.
When, after a few moments longer, there were no other sounds, Nina proceeded cautiously.
One step, pause, one step, pause, barely enough light to see anything at all. The
staircase ended at last. A tiny blue light seemed to hang in mid-air a few yards away.
Nina turned and looked up at the endless spiral of steps now overhead.
I did it, she thought, smiling just a little. Something about having conquered the steps
gave her a new wave of confidence, and she turned back towards the tiny light with new
purpose, careful to be silent as she approached it. The walls released a chill that
penetrated clean through to her bones. She pulled her coat in close about her and sunk her
hands into her pockets.
As she focused her eyes in the dimness Nina saw that the light actually lay flush in the
wall above a door. There was no sign, no marks on the door. A painting of a small black
whip circled the light on the wall. Nina smiled. There seemed to be eyes looking through
at her, beckoning, seducing. She inhaled quickly, feeling dizzy and disconnected, brushing
her hand across her damp forehead. The door had no handle, but stuck out, not quite shut.
With both hands Nina pulled gently. It moved only a little. She pulled harder and it
sighed open, the feel of air escaping slowly from a sealed compartment. She peaked in.
There was a room with candles lit, hurricane lamps and carpeting, gold plush, not new but
clean. No one seemed to be around. The air was warm and dry as she slipped in and slowly
let the door close out the cold behind her, making sure it didn`t seal shut.
The place reminded her of a scene from a horror film; lit with candles, stony walled,
with two chairs along one wall, a desk and a huge bookcase along another. Over the chairs
a sign announced "Basement Consulting Firm." No other pictures or plaques hung
on the walls. She approached the bookcase, curious. All the books were bound in red
leather but there were no titles printed on them. She pulled one out and opened it. The
binding was crisp and tough as if no one had ever looked inside. She turned a few pages.
Blank. Nina slipped it nervously back into the case, her hand shaking a little. Slowly,
the door closed behind her, as if someone had pushed it carefully shut from the other
side. Nina froze. Then, looking out of the corner of her eye she turned cautiously. There
was no one there.
Nina shook her head, trying to clear it. Taking a big breath, she turned towards the
hallway then, removing her coat as she went, her body overheated in the sudden warm
environment. She knew she should call out to see if anyone was around and to let them know
someone was in the office, or whatever it was. But, for some reason, that didn`t seem the
thing to do. Nina passed under the archway that separated the room from the hallway.
As she continued silently down the short passage it opened up suddenly into a large room.
High cathedral ceilings curved gracefully overhead. On the far end to her right, thick
chains with metal shackles hung in a rectangular pattern, the bottom two close to the
floor where the gold carpeting continued.
Wide-eyed, Nina took in the red and black lighting illuminating a black leather hammock
that hung suspended from the ceiling on chains. Her eyes followed the chains up to hooks
that stuck out wickedly from the wall. A large black lacquer wardrobe sat along the wall
to her right. Black lights shone off its surface creating a blue, eerie effect.
She`d found it: the infamous hideaway! It really did exist!
Amazed, frightened and excited all at once, Nina`s body responded, growing warm and
tingly. She could feel her pulse between her legs, and blushed with embarrassment as she
realized what she was doing, how far out she`d gone this time. She had never traveled
beyond the dark curtain of her fantasies, only lived them in photographs and drawings, too
afraid to go to any of the places rumored to be meeting spots for people of a more
demanding passion.
She looked curiously at the wardrobe, one door ajar, inviting her approach.
Moving around to face it, Nina reached out her hand and opened the double doors. Whips
and tools that were unfamiliar to her hung from racks that covered the entire back of the
wardrobe. Some had spikes embedded in leather, some were smooth, some braided. Black
gloves, lying as if they`d just been tossed onto the shelf, sat on the left.
Different-sized bottles and jars surrounded the gloves, some without lids. Sandalwood and
almond scents wafted up sensuously, and something she did not recognize, a heavy smell
that made her dizzy.
Tentatively, she reached in and picked up the gloves, ran the smooth leather between her
fingers, smelling the animal scent, closing her eyes. They were supple and smooth against
her skin. Nina held on to them and slowly circled the room, lost in the scent of leather
and desire.
A huge black and white photograph of three beautiful women, nude, each in a different
position of domination and submission, filled an entire half of the far wall. Another
corridor led to the left. Nina stared at the photograph. One of the women was the one in
her photograph at home, the one she`d been following: Carrie. Her eyes absorbed the
woman`s smooth body, shiny, sleek in its darkness. She touched the photograph, ran a hand
along the woman`s curves, laying her cheek against the wall, closing her eyes, imagining
what the woman would feel like and remembering the past few months, the long nights--the
obsession. Nina could almost feel her body on the bed in her room, feel the cool darkness.
The room around her seemed to disappear as she remembered...
"Moonlight pierced through the window and bathed her bed in a foggy passion of
shadow and light. Nina pushed off her covers, moving her body into the pattern of
moonlight. Stretching her legs out, arms overhead, she grasped the wooden headboard,
watching the fingertips of light caress her smooth body as she arched and twisted slowly,
eyes following the shadows and patterns. A photograph of a woman, barely clothed, wearing
only chaps of smooth black leather and holding a whip, hung pinned to the wall over Nina`s
bed--a dark-skinned woman standing, legs parted, deep brown eyes dramatically lit, burning
into the camera lens the fury of her sensuality. Nina sighed, her body aching in the
moonlight that touched her, but whose touch she could not feel. Her eyes found the eyes in
the photograph. The woman seemed to look back at her. Nina`s imagination raced in a
fantasy begun many nights before: the woman live, not at the restaurant where Nina saw her
everyday but did not speak to her. No, here, in Nina`s room, glistening naked in the
moonlight, whip raised, eyes able to see Nina`s passion, her need; Nina`s body moving now
in a rhythm that began each night, over and over, a thin veil of sweat forming between her
creamy white breasts, along her belly, her body moving now as she slipped her fingers down
to meet the fire that raged between her legs, the liquid desire that flowed now, slippery
and wanting as she arched, thrusting, and building ... building."
| 
