earlier.” She stood up and left. How she managed to walk so quickly in heels that high with bootlaces half-untied was beyond me.
With Jillian out of the room again, I took a moment to consider my situation. It wasn’t exactly what I would describe as promising. I was trussed up better than a freshman pledge during a frat initiation. The chains showed no signs of wanting to come out of the wall. The leather restraints around my wrists and ankles could be unbuckled if I happened to have a hand free. But I didn’t. I clenched my muscles and pulled...no leeway whatsoever. Jillian knew her business.
But let’s see...
If I could just reach that buckle with one finger, just a single finger, I might be able to...
Nope.
I bent my wrist until it hurt and didn’t get within a fingernail of the thing.
Maybe I could slide a hand out of the restraint. The skin was certainly sweaty enough. If I just squeezed my fingers together and pulled with all my strength...
By the time Jillian returned a few minutes later, I had managed to wedge my hand so firmly into the shackle that I was unable to move it in either direction, in or out.
She sat on the divan, poured herself some tea, took a sip, and then resumed the process of unlacing her boot.
“So, you were saying?” she said.
What had I been saying? Oh, right. “I was saying, don’t you think this looks suspicious? I take a few sips of tea, next thing I know, I wake up naked and strapped to your wall.”
“You came to a pro domme and wound up in chains? I don’t think anyone would consider that suspicious,” she said. She called out over her shoulder, to the closed door behind her, “For crying out loud, are you ready yet?”
“Me?” I said.
“Not you, silly. You’re ready for whatever I tell you you’re ready for.”
From the other side of the door came a negativesounding grunt.
Jillian sighed. “Looks like we have a couple minutes to kill, Jonny. What did you want to talk about?”
“You mean, other than who’s on the other side of that door?”
“Yeah, that would be telling.”
“Well, all right,” I said. “Let’s talk about Victoria, then.”
“What do you want to know?”
“To start, what happened between the two of you,” I said. “The rumor going around was that you were pissed because she opened up a burlesque school and you thought yours should be the only one.”
“Yeah, guess who spread that rumor,” Jillian said, after downing some more tea. “That’s not why I was pissed. You want to open a burlesque school? Go for it. Be my guest. I don’t own the idea. But I do own the materials I created for my school. And when she opened hers, in Philly? Guess what she handed out to her students.”
“Your materials?” I said.
“She covered up my name and wrote in her own. That was the extent of her original work. I had a lawyer friend (who shall remain nameless and about whom we shall never speak again) draft a cease-and-desist, and she ceased. And desisted. And then,” Jillian said, “started saying I was an arrogant bitch who claimed the exclusive right to teach burlesque on the East Coast. Now, I may be an arrogant bitch—but I don’t claim any such thing. Hell, other people teach burlesque in New York City, you don’t see me sending lawyers after them.”
“So she made you pretty mad?” I said.
She smiled a sly smile. “Mad enough to kill her— that’s where you’re headed, right?”
“Not at all,” I said, “just—”
“A month or so ago, I found out that she’d started using my handouts again. This time I just let it go. First off, I had revised them since, and who cares if someone is using your old crap? And second of all, by now everyone in the business knows what she is. It wasn’t worth my time even to send her another C&D—you think it would’ve been worth it to kill her? I mean—”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Ah, finally,” Jillian said. “Yes, he’s all set,” she
With Jillian out of the room again, I took a moment to consider my situation. It wasn’t exactly what I would describe as promising. I was trussed up better than a freshman pledge during a frat initiation. The chains showed no signs of wanting to come out of the wall. The leather restraints around my wrists and ankles could be unbuckled if I happened to have a hand free. But I didn’t. I clenched my muscles and pulled...no leeway whatsoever. Jillian knew her business.
But let’s see...
If I could just reach that buckle with one finger, just a single finger, I might be able to...
Nope.
I bent my wrist until it hurt and didn’t get within a fingernail of the thing.
Maybe I could slide a hand out of the restraint. The skin was certainly sweaty enough. If I just squeezed my fingers together and pulled with all my strength...
By the time Jillian returned a few minutes later, I had managed to wedge my hand so firmly into the shackle that I was unable to move it in either direction, in or out.
She sat on the divan, poured herself some tea, took a sip, and then resumed the process of unlacing her boot.
“So, you were saying?” she said.
What had I been saying? Oh, right. “I was saying, don’t you think this looks suspicious? I take a few sips of tea, next thing I know, I wake up naked and strapped to your wall.”
“You came to a pro domme and wound up in chains? I don’t think anyone would consider that suspicious,” she said. She called out over her shoulder, to the closed door behind her, “For crying out loud, are you ready yet?”
“Me?” I said.
“Not you, silly. You’re ready for whatever I tell you you’re ready for.”
From the other side of the door came a negativesounding grunt.
Jillian sighed. “Looks like we have a couple minutes to kill, Jonny. What did you want to talk about?”
“You mean, other than who’s on the other side of that door?”
“Yeah, that would be telling.”
“Well, all right,” I said. “Let’s talk about Victoria, then.”
“What do you want to know?”
“To start, what happened between the two of you,” I said. “The rumor going around was that you were pissed because she opened up a burlesque school and you thought yours should be the only one.”
“Yeah, guess who spread that rumor,” Jillian said, after downing some more tea. “That’s not why I was pissed. You want to open a burlesque school? Go for it. Be my guest. I don’t own the idea. But I do own the materials I created for my school. And when she opened hers, in Philly? Guess what she handed out to her students.”
“Your materials?” I said.
“She covered up my name and wrote in her own. That was the extent of her original work. I had a lawyer friend (who shall remain nameless and about whom we shall never speak again) draft a cease-and-desist, and she ceased. And desisted. And then,” Jillian said, “started saying I was an arrogant bitch who claimed the exclusive right to teach burlesque on the East Coast. Now, I may be an arrogant bitch—but I don’t claim any such thing. Hell, other people teach burlesque in New York City, you don’t see me sending lawyers after them.”
“So she made you pretty mad?” I said.
She smiled a sly smile. “Mad enough to kill her— that’s where you’re headed, right?”
“Not at all,” I said, “just—”
“A month or so ago, I found out that she’d started using my handouts again. This time I just let it go. First off, I had revised them since, and who cares if someone is using your old crap? And second of all, by now everyone in the business knows what she is. It wasn’t worth my time even to send her another C&D—you think it would’ve been worth it to kill her? I mean—”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Ah, finally,” Jillian said. “Yes, he’s all set,” she
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