Dark Rose

"Leave that to me," smiled Zabi, "How'd you feel about having your photo taken tomorrow?"

* * * * *

A week or two later Zabi handed me an Irish passport complete with a US visa and a scattering of stamps showing countries I'd supposedly visited. The passport even looked a bit worn as if it had seen some use. This was obviously why she'd taken me to the local photographer. I was astonished to see a green card too. "Problem solved," she grinned.

I regret I was a bit ungracious at the gift. "These must be fakes," I said.

"Any immigration service in the world will accept those as genuine, including the Irish passport office," she told me, adding: "My family has some unusual connections and we are owed a lot of favours.

"Now, you will be met by Dominic, my brother and his lady, Jinn. Jinn is lovely but you might find Dom a bit intimidating at first, even scary. As a child and teen he was variously diagnosed as having psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies, if not those then possibly high-functioning Asperger's. Every shrink had a different view. I don't really think he's any of those. Deep down he's kind and caring but he is emotionally... detached, perhaps... he doesn't seem to think the way others do and finds it difficult to relate to people."

I asked Ellie if she wanted to come to California with me. I thought I would have to tether her down as she virtually leapt about with glee at the thought. She was almost like the small child on a car journey who constantly asks: "Are we there yet?" Within several days, her passport miraculously contained a US visa and there was a green card for her too. Her one regret was leaving the horses but that would have happened anyway when the usual stable-girl returned to work. Zabi promised to find a suitable replacement before we left. A few weeks later and we had airline tickets from Florence to Los Angeles. And without saying why, Zabi suggested to me that the apartment's second bedroom might be more acceptable to Ellie.

There were last words of advice for me, too. "Roisin, there are scars deep inside you, mental scars, probably the cause of your bad dreams. Sooner or later you will have to face your problems head on if you ever want to be free."

* * * * *

Santa Monica

We landed at LAX and then it took a good two hours or so to get through Immigration. When we got to the desk I landed a female officer who was cold-mannered but fast and efficient. Ellie got stuck with a particularly officious dickhead who questioned her closely about her green card. Zabi had anticipated this and had tutored us well. Eventually he accepted her story and waved her through. This guy was as tall as Ellie but his eyes hardly rose above her chest level. She was wearing a loose, sleeveless low-cut top and her bountiful bra-free boobs with their prominent nipples swayed and jiggled about, threatening to escape. I guess this is why he took so long to question her---the pathetic creep was hoping she'd have a wardrobe malfunction.

Can't say I blame the creep too much. I reckon the eyes of every straight man and every gay woman were on Ellie as her boobs wobbled their way across the concourse. I didn't say anything to her---by Ellie's standards she was vastly overdressed.

The apartment was something else, finer than anything I'd ever lived in, one attraction being a great picture window overlooking Venice Beach and beyond it sparkling blue ocean. There were a number of packed and sealed storage boxes on the floor but Zabi had hold me that she'd arranged for them to be picked up. "There're two bedrooms, Ellie." I pointed. "Zabi told me that you might like the second room. Don't know why. Check it out and if you like it, settle in."

Ellie sauntered off and moments later came bouncing back like a great friendly Labrador puppy. She grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the bedroom. "Come and see what I've found, Rosie. Fun stuff! Lots of fun stuff!"

I guess it was fun stuff if you're into that kind of thing. There was a small, stand-alone cupboard packed to the brim with BDSM equipment. "Rosie, will you fix me up with something here? Please?" She fluttered her eyelashes at me and I could barely keep from laughing. Although not my thing, I couldn't deny her the pleasure.

"Okay, Ellie, but later. I promise. Right now I'm worn out, I'd like to grab some shuteye and then perhaps some food."

"Good idea, Rosie. You go for your nap and I'll go out and get something for a meal."

I gave her strict instructions to go no further than the grocery store across the road. I didn't want Ellie wandering off and maybe ending up in the wrong hands. She rolled her eyes but promised to be good.

There was one item of decoration in the main bedroom, a full-length portrait of Zabi wearing very little at all. It was signed by Alex---I had no idea she was so talented. I removed my boots and heavy leather jacket and collapsed on the bed. I was asleep in moments.

I slept for a couple of hours and was jerked awake by a bad dream, not the horrific dream of the autopsy room but a memory dream, accurate in most detail, about the event that had ended up with me on the run.

I'd been out dealing in a poker game and when it broke up I couldn't find anywhere suitable to sleep so I went home. Making sure all the lights were out, I climbed onto the outhouse roof just below my bedroom window and sneaked in that way. Having dried myself and put some fresh clothes on, I settled down to sleep.

I don't know how long I was out of it but was awakened violently by my door slamming wide, the unshaded light going on and the heavy buckle of my father's belt whipping down on my legs, opening fresh wounds.

"You stupid, filthy little slut, I'll fucking kill you so I will!" The belt came down two or three more times and that was when I finally cracked. Despite knowing the punishment would get worse, I kicked him in the belly and he went down... for ever...

I don't know now if my mother really did scream "Murderer!" or if that's conscience-led false memory. I just got out of that place and spent most of the next day hiding out in a disused building, convinced the Gardai would be hunting me. I bummed a lift to Dún Laoghaire and smuggled myself onto the Liverpool ferry with a crowd of rugby fans.

I was still shivering as I came out of the dream then I realised there was a lovely cooking smell. Bless you, Ellie! I got up and made my way to the kitchen to find that my favourite chef was naked save for some kind of chain contraption wrapped round her waist and between her legs. Every time she moved it put pressure on her vulva and clit and she gave a little shiver. "I was just going to call you," she smiled and put a plate of pasta with a tasty sauce in front of me. As a bonus, there was a glass of beer. I knew we'd need to be careful for a few days, our cash going down fast. Maybe I could con a few bucks at the beach, setting up a Find-the-Lady game. As Barnum is supposed to have said: "There's a sucker born every minute."

When we had eaten I kept my promise to Ellie, taking her to the bedroom and fixing her up with the various BDSM items she indicated. The final piece was some kind of battery-controlled vibrator, shaped to stimulate both clit and g-spot. It could be set to go on and off at irregular intervals with varying strengths, the wearer never being sure what was coming next. I lubed it thoroughly before easing it into Ellie's pussy, even though she was already very wet with anticipation. Finally I placed a small alarm in her hand. "I'll check on you in an hour," I told her, "but if you need to, sound this and I'll come running."

"Thanks, Rosie," Ellie grinned then then squeaked as the toy switched on and made her jump. When the thing turned itself off, she added: "You'd make a great dom, sweetie."

"Maybe, but you know that's not me." I kissed her forehead and left her to it.

I was relaxed on the sofa, half-heartedly watching some horror movie when the doorbell summoned me. When I opened the door I was confronted by a tall woman, easily the same height as Ellie if not a bit extra and even more fit-looking.

"G'day," she said, "You'll be Rosie. I'm Jinn. Zabi texted us to look in on you, check you were settled in okay and shift all these boxes." Zabi had told me about Jinn but she hadn't mentioned how damn big the Australian woman was. My eyes were on a level with her boobs.

Us? Then as Jinn stepped in I saw that she had a man with her. The likeness was marked. This had to be Zabi's brother, the big difference being that Zabi's eyes were as warm as Italian sunshine whereas his were dark and icy like a shark cruising the depths. He nodded to me. "Roisin. I thought you might appreciate a little welcome gift." He showed me a case of Guinness. A case of Guinness---it had been a long time since I tasted that.

"I've got wine for me and Dom, Rosie," said Jinn, "I'll get the glasses. I know where everything is."

When we were settled with our drinks, I raised my glass of Guinness to them. "Slàinte! Erin go bragh!"

Not to be outdone, Jinn grinned, returning my salute saying: "Once a jolly swagman..."

Dominic regarded us with a faintly tolerant air then raised his glass. "Salute." Looking round he said: "Is your friend here?" At that moment there came a little cry of ecstasy from the far bedroom. "Ah yes, Zabina said she might spend a lot of time in there."

"I'll just go and see how she's doing," volunteered Jinn, "I know you have things to discuss with Rosie and a naked woman in bondage is definitely more appealing."

When Jinn had gone nothing was said for some minutes. Dominic's gaze had the same laser-like intensity as his sister's and I guessed he was assessing me, something else Zabi had said was likely. I kept quiet, leaving it to him.

"Erin go bragh," he mused eventually, "Ireland for ever... But it's not, is it Roisin, not for you. You're scared to return believing that you'll be arrested and put on trial for your father's death, Alannah Bronagh..."

"How the hell do you know my name?" The other details he could have got from Zabi but I hadn't told even her my true name.

"I have many friends, many more useful acquaintances, and information is a valuable commodity." Dominic reached into an inner pocket of his immaculate jacket and produced a thin sheaf of papers, passing them to me. "Zabina asked me to get these for you. There is your father's autopsy report and a summary of the inquest findings. You didn't kill your father, Roisin. He had a very serious heart condition, could have dropped dead at any time. His own rage probably killed him. So you see, you can return to Ireland with impunity."

"I don't think so, not seeing I've only just arrived here." I stared into those eyes that now seemed a little warmer. "There's no-one there I care for. Never was, really. In fact, when I think about it, I don't really care for anyone."

"I don't think that's completely true," Dominic said. He pointed towards the bedroom door. "I'll bet that you care a great deal for your friend in there." He was right, although I had never given much thought to my caring for Ellie---it just was. "I can read you, Roisin," Dominic continued, "because in a way we are two of a kind. You perhaps worry that your lack of caring shows you are a sociopath. Dismiss that worry, you're not, just a poor soul whose childhood has warped your outlook on life. You have wrapped your emotions tightly and buried them deeply in the belief that no-one can ever hurt you again. I can relate to that. Although not suffering the brutality that you did, something lacking inside me had much the same effect. That said, I think that you have the capacity for caring if you sever your internal bonds. One day, Roisin, you will have to face your past and conquer it."

Others might not have noticed but I could hear the echo of a strange loneliness in Dominic's voice. We were two lost children, two lost souls. On impulse I went to him and pulled him to his feet so that I could embrace him, offering a kind of comfort. I buried my face against his chest, struggling to hold back tears. After a few seconds he reciprocated, his arms encircling me, stiffly it's true but it was something.

* * * * *

The doorbell buzzed and when I answered it I was greeted by a scrawny little fellow who respectfully removed his chauffeur's cap. "Ms Roisin? I'm Danny. Mr Vitelli asked me to drive you to the club."

I called out to my friend and we followed the driver to the car. I don't know what I expected but it certainly wasn't the large and gleaming limousine waiting at the kerb. "You can drop the 'Ms', Danny," I told the man as I stepped into the limo, "I'm Rosie and this is Ellie."

"Sure thing, Rosie," he said as he closed the door.

"Wow, I could get used to this," Ellie enthused as she wallowed back into the leather cushions.

"Make the most of it, kid," I said, "If we're going to be employees at this club, I doubt we'll get this treatment every day."

Ellie wriggled about, luxuriating in the limo's comfort. "I wonder what this club will be like."

"Well, Zabi said we might find it an unusual sort of place. We'll soon find out."

After about ten minutes' smooth drive the car pulled up in front of a nondescript building with a plain, dark-grey metal door. You could tell where other entrances and windows had been bricked up. It looked as if the place might have been an old warehouse or similar at one time. Danny came around to open the limo's door and I began to wonder about his motives, thinking: This can't be the right place.

Then the metal door opened and Dominic---now elegant in tuxedo with black tie---stepped out. "Welcome to The Ascension, ladies." He lifted Ellie's hand to brush it with his lips and came out with a stream of Italian. I only caught the odd word or two, involving the sun and the moon and the stars, so I guess it was some kind of excessively flowery compliment. I know that Ellie went pink and, giggling like a schoolgirl, said: "Grazie!"

Dominic turned to me and to my surprise gave me a brief hug, whispering: "Figlia della mia anima." I know it meant 'something of his' but that's all. Later Ellie was to tell me it translated as 'Daughter of my soul' whatever that was supposed to mean.

"Please..." Dominic stood to one side and gestured that we should precede him into a spacious entrance hall. The door closed behind us and suddenly I felt like Alice through the looking-glass. The outside of the club had been plain and ugly, forbidding almost, but the inside... The best I can say is that it resembled a Florentine palazzo. The panelled walls were highly polished wood, the floor was laid in Italian marble and the ceiling was layered in concentric circles, at the hub of which was an image of heaven. In the centre of the floor was a small fountain, waters bubbling and chuckling. There were three ornately patterned doors off the reception area, each one bearing a title: a delicate and flowery script read 'Paradiso'; bolder and sharp-edged lettering read 'Purgatorio'; and sinister and forbidding scarlet Gothic lettering over the third door read 'Inferno". This third door alone was black and had a large plate with what looked like some kind of quotation: 'All hope abandon; you who enter!' These few words were also in scarlet and cunningly painted to appear three-dimensional.

Finally there was a plain fourth door marked 'Private' which I later learned led to the offices.

The one jarring note in the foyer was a desk with several security monitors manned by someone who looked like a Mob enforcer. Dominic introduced him as 'Tony' and within moments Ellie and Tony were engaged in some sort of cross-talk from a gangster film. I was getting hungry by now so I literally dragged Ellie away. Dominic led us to the 'Purgatorio' door and we found ourselves in a dimly-lit short corridor leading to another door. Ellie squealed and clutched at my arm at the sight of the sinister figure waiting for us. Tall, wearing a tuxedo and scarlet shirt, the figure's face was partly covered with a skull-like mask leaving just nostrils, mouth and chin free, very 'Phantom of the Opera'. "It's okay, Ellie," I reassured, "It's Jinn. You can tell from the eyes and the way she stands."

Dominic glanced at me and nodded. "Impressive," he muttered.

As we drew level with Jinn, she held out two black masks, a simple highwayman-style for me and lacy and feminine for Ellie. "All members and staff wear masks," Jinn explained, "It enhances the atmosphere and anyway, some of our guests are very keen on anonymity." The four of us stepped through into 'Purgatorio'. I saw that Dominic did not have a mask and I queried this. His reply was enigmatic. "Dante didn't wear a mask." Once more, what the hell did that mean?

Ellie put it best. "Wow! It's a film set."

The room was huge, part dining-room, part dance floor and for all the world resembled an old MGM musical sound-stage. One wall was dominated by a huge mirror, making the place seem even larger. The other walls were furnished with heavy velvet drapes, a very dark red in colour. Like the approaching corridor, lighting was subdued. To one side was a dais occupied by a beautiful harpist, upper body bare, lower clad in light drapery. Most of the tables were full and in the muted lighting I could see that the serving staff---male and female---were just about naked, wearing only tiny aprons that barely covered the essentials. I did notice that a few comprised a separate group and wore collars---they seemed to work exclusively at a few tables well-separated from the majority. "They're guests," Jinn explained, "Submissives who get a kick out of serving their partners."

"So, Roisin and Ellie, what do you think?" asked Dominic.

Ellie. could hardly keep her head still, goggling at the near-naked waitresses. A small, Asian-looking waitress bearing a tray of drinks walked past us and Ellie's tongue almost hit the floor. All the others were instantly forgotten. "Cool," she breathed, turning her head to watch the waitress serving at a table.

I thought for a moment. "Impressive but I'd like to see a lot more before deciding."

Jinn laughed and pointed at me. "And tonight's prize for the best Dom sound-alike..."

"I think we'll eat in the private dining room," Dominic said, leading us to a wall where slight pressure on a panel opened a concealed door. He pointed to the little Asian waitress. "Do you think Ellie would like Rio to serve us?"

"You'll make her night," I replied.

The meal was superb, better than anything I'd ever eaten in my life. Ellie seemed to barely notice the food. Her eyes followed Rio around as the petite Asian served our meal. Rio was now dressed more formally in white shirt and black skirt---obviously the near-nudity was for the club's members, not the private dining room. And the way Dominic spoke to Rio as she attended us suggested that he had great respect and caring for his staff.

When Rio exited to fetch our coffee, Ellie turned to Dom. "The job offers you mentioned, could I be a server, please?" I could guess why. The prospect of spending her working day near naked must have had quite an appeal and having Rio as a colleague doubled the appeal.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. "I was going to offer something better than that, Ellie," he said, "Something more in keeping with your abilities---as part of our finance administration team, say. Are you sure about this?"

For all that she was submissive by nature, Ellie could be surprisingly stubborn at times. She set her lips firmly and repeated: "Yes, I'm sure---could I be a server, please?"

Dom shrugged. Rio returned and served our coffees and liqueurs. Dom turned to her saying: "Thank you, Rio. Why don't you take the rest of the evening off? Oh, and Rio, Ellie here will be joining the serving staff soon. Perhaps you'd kindly give her a tour of the premises."