Room 2D

A story  by John Undermeyer  from Janus 58  with an American connection to mark Indepence Day  Dawson Kendall, senior executive of Supremacy Studios (Hollywood) spoke tersely into his car telephone. ‘We shall be home in 20 minutes,’ he told his butler. ‘Please see that Amelia and Romy are prepared, and waiting for me in the Blue Room.’ Prepared was a euphemism. It meant undressed — stripped to the skin, showered, lightly dusted with powder, and with a touch of expensive perfume to the nape of the neck, the inside of each elbow, behind the knees and at the back of each ear. It was important to Dawson that girls smell nice. Clean, fresh, wholesome, even toothsome, he thought, and swallowed some saliva that had gathered in his mouth. If Dawson’s 28-year-old beautiful driver had overheard the telephone call she showed no sign of it. Dawson dressed her all in black, with calf-length boots, breeches and a wide, ti...

From Blushes 39 Mr Lindop is a very bookish man. You could imagine him as a professor or something. With that serious expression, the half-rimmed spectacles, his balding head. Do professors have balding heads? They probably do. Most of all he almost always has his head in a book. As he does now. Even here in this hotel room. While she, Miranda, is in the cupboard. On her knees… Not Miranda, Teddy. ‘I think I’ll call you Teddy then,’ he said. In that shop, in the lingerie department. ‘What’s that called?’ and she said, ‘It’s a teddy.’ He wouldn’t believe her but of course she was right. He bought one, pale cream, silk. It was expensive. And then he said, ‘That’s what we’ll call you then: Teddy.’ Here in the hotel room she had to put it on. The teddy and the white high heels. Everything else off. And get in the cupboard. Kneeling on the bare floor with her arms raised above her head. Why was he making her do this? To torment her? ...

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