Rite of Passage

Five o'clock. Finally - she had begun to think the day was going to last forever. With several quick keystrokes Valerie signed off on the computer on her desk. As the machine powered itself down and the soft hum of the processor seized, the phone rang. She glared at it. It was five o'clock on a Friday afternoon, for crying out loud! What was so urgent that it couldn't wait until Monday? If it were that pesky Mr. Mackey again... For a minute she contemplated to simply let the phone ring; whoever it was could call back on Monday. The noise was insistent, hard to resist and at last, with a roll of her eyes, she lifted the receiver.

"O'Leary's Real Estate, Valerie speaking," she announced herself.

"I want to take you out tonight," a deep, familiar voice echoed in her ear without preamble. "Somewhere special."

"Nathan!" Valerie breathed. A delicious shiver ran along her spine at the sound of his voice. "I didn't think you'd be back yet."

He didn't reply. Instead, he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Wear the burgundy dress. Be ready at seven." He didn't wait for a reply. Somewhat taken aback by his abruptness Valerie listened to the beep-beep of a disconnected line.

He could have at least waited for her consent, she thought. But she wasn't upset. Truth be told, the unexpected surprises he sometimes sprung on her were one of the things she liked about Nathan. They had been seeing each other for five months now. And he was wonderful. Kind, caring, with a great body: anything a woman could wish for.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day she first met him, all those months ago. What had started as the worst day in her life, had turned out to be one of the best. Mr. O'Leary called in sick that morning and she spent most of her day rescheduling appointments and calming irate clients. At Mr. O'Leary's special request, she had gone that evening to meet one client herself, an elderly lady who lived in the Hollywood hills. On the way home her car broke down. To make a bad situation worse, her cell phone battery had gone dead. Desperate, and a bit frightened to be alone in the hills so late, Valerie had rung the bell of a whitewashed villa with blue doors and shutters. Nathan had opened the door. He had been most chivalrous, allowed her to use his phone and call the AAA, and then told her she should wait inside until the service truck arrived. Two days after that, he had called her and asked for a date.

At first Valerie had tried to keep him at a distance. She wasn't ready for a new relationship, still hurting about the way Matthew dumped her for that ballet dancer. But Nathan had been insistent. And how could she refuse a man who sent her flowers and gifts and who desired to take her out to dinner on the moonlit terrace of the Bellarosa with its grandiose view across the city? In the end she relented and accorded him one date. They had been inseparable since. Except when he had to leave town on business. Nathan worked as a producer for a production company that specialized in commercials. He had left last Wednesday for Santa Fe to shoot a shampoo commercial and she had not expected him back until Monday evening. Valerie had already resigned herself to a lonely weekend of enforced celibacy when his unexpected call came in.

Invigorated by the much brighter prospect of a weekend spent with Nathan, Valerie hastened to close down the office and go home. She soon found that most of Los Angeles' work force had had the same idea and her white Hyundai Accent got hopelessly stuck in traffic. It was a quarter after six when she entered her apartment. Only forty-five minutes to get ready. And Valerie wanted to be ready when Nathan arrived; he didn't like it when people were late. He saw enough of that in his work, he said, to accept it in his private life as well.

She stripped off her dark blue business suit and turned on the shower. She allowed herself to luxuriate in the warm stream for a few minutes before washing her hair. After she toweled off she applied generous amounts of the expensive body lotion Nathan had given her. He said its scent on her skin reminded him of wide-open, green fields covered with sweet flowers. Valerie half-suspected it was a quote from a commercial for the product but she didn't care. When Nathan whispered such things in her ear while she basked in the afterglow, she was inclined to believe him unconditionally.

She wrapped a towel around her dripping hair and pattered back to the bedroom to get dressed. Tonight was going to be special, and she wanted to look her best. She held the red dress in front of her and studied her reflection. Nathan had bought it for her one Saturday afternoon when they had strolled hand in hand along Santa Monica Boulevard. It wasn't the sort of dress she would have picked out herself, she thought as she caressed the soft fabric. It was a dark, burgundy color, with a brighter red lining emphasizing the low neckline. The very low neckline, Valerie chuckled, lower than she was truly comfortable with. Nathan said it was sexy. And yes, she admitted to herself while taking another look in the mirror, the dress would look good on her.

She dropped the garment back on the bed and walked over to a chest of drawers. Nathan had requested she wore his gift; it was up to her to add the right underwear and create an immaculate appearance. Not that anyone but Nathan would get to see the full picture, of course. However, he did have a taste for perfection. Valerie opened one of the drawers and rummaged through its contents. Most of her underwear was brand new, bought in the last four months since she and Nathan had started sleeping together. Her hand brushed across a white, silk scarf and she pulled it out, a smile forming around her lips at the images associated with the scarf. It was yet another present from Nathan, one that he had given her after one night of especially naughty sex. Her cheeks colored at the memory.

About a month ago, he had taken her to see a movie and after the show invited her over for a late night cup of coffee. In the few months of their dating those words had become their code for 'I want to make love to you'. Once they entered his house, they headed straight for the master bedroom where Nathan quickly undressed her. Then, to her surprise, he had pulled several white scarves from beneath the pillow, saying he had an idea. His voice had been honed with excitement.

Valerie had protested at first, naturally. However, it hadn't taken him long to convince her it was perfectly safe and that he would let no harm come to her; she had given in to her curiosity and his desire and allowed Nathan to tie her to his bed. Helpless, she had lain there, vulnerable, exposed to his eyes and hands and unable to prevent whatever he had in store for her.

She hadn't needed worry. Nathan had lavished his attentions on every inch of her body, making her itch, twitch, quiver and squirm until she came again and again with the most violent orgasms she had ever known. Before he took her home he gave her the four scarves. "A reminder," he had said, "of what we can be, you and I." She hadn't quite understood what he meant but the scarves brought back good memories every time she touched them. Sometimes, when he was away for a shoot and Valerie felt lonely, she tied the silk around her wrists and ankles, lay spread-eagled and naked on the bed and imagined his hands on her until she shook with desire.

Somewhere, outside, a horn beeped. With a start Valerie returned to the here and now. It was six forty-five. Fifteen minutes to finish getting dressed, dry her hair and apply her make-up. She was going to have to rush it; she'd lost quite a lot of time day dreaming about the past. Valerie put the scarves aside and concentrated on searching through her underthings. She settled on a peach-colored, satin string that was brand new. She slipped it up her legs and allowed herself a few precious seconds to watch her image in the mirror. Yes, it looked great. Once Nathan saw her in this string, he would be hard pressed to contain himself. She grinned, snatched the dress from the bed and dropped it over her head. The thin material conformed itself to the curves of her slim figure and accentuated her long legs and firm, round breasts that didn't need the support of a bra.

She blow-dried her hair and cast another glance at the clock. Five minutes to go. She reached for her make-up kit and applied a dab of lipstick, mascara and some eye shadow. Not too much, Nathan liked her au naturel.

Just as she snapped the small container with colored powder shut, the doorbell rung. Valerie looked at the clock again. Seven exactly. Right on the dot. Sometimes she wondered if Nathan was waiting in front of her door until it was the exact time. How else did he always make it on the strike of the appointed hour?

She slipped into her black heels and went to open the door.

"Hello Valerie," he said in greeting. His blue eyes traveled down the length of her body; they seemed to penetrate the thin fabric of her dress as they took in the soft curves of her breasts and hips.

"Nathan," she whispered. Her voice was husky and she felt her cheeks color beneath his gaze while at the same time butterflies fluttered in her belly. He smiled a knowing smile and for just a second she hated him. How did he always manage with one look to make her feel as nervous as a schoolgirl on her first date?

He leaned forward and pecked a chaste kiss onto her cheek. "You look wonderful. Just as I imagined you would. Shall we go?" He didn't ask if she was ready, he simply offered her his arm. Valerie grabbed her purse, house keys and a woolen shawl -nights could be cool this time of year and the spaghetti strap dress didn't offer much warmth- and followed him to his car. The black Porsche gleamed in the light of moon. He opened the door for her and she slipped into the passenger seat. Nathan walked around the Porsche's front and got behind the wheel. She studied him from the corner of her eye. He was dressed casually: dark gray slacks, black turtleneck sweater and a lighter gray jacket. Not at all the formal wear she had come to expect from the way he instructed her over the phone that afternoon. She wondered if she was overdressed.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Nathan smiled. "Dinner, for starters," he said. "I assume you're hungry?"

Valerie nodded. "Starving." Lunch had been seven hours ago.

"Good," he nodded. Valerie wanted to ask about his plans for the rest of the evening but Nathan had put the car in motion and was carefully winding his way through the busy downtown traffic. Valerie settled back into her seat. Nathan would tell her in his own time, and not a second before.

It took them half an hour to reach the restaurant he had in mind for their reunion dinner. He parked at the side of the building, helped her climb out of the car and offered her his arm once more to lead her inside. Valerie smiled to herself. Always the gentleman, he was. Once they entered the restaurant, she stopped in surprise. From the outside, the place had been fairly non-descript. Inside, it was decorated with impeccable taste. The walls were paneled with expensive walnut polished a warm reddish-brown. Heavy, cream-colored tablecloths covered several small tables laid neatly with glittering silverware and shiny thin-stemmed glasses. Soft music played from invisible speakers. What really shocked Valerie, however, was the lack of customers: the restaurant was empty. A rare sight on a Friday evening, even if it was still early.

Valerie turned to her escort. "Nathan, are you sure this is-"

He smiled and patted her arm. "Do you trust me?" Valerie nodded. "Then don't ask any further questions." Valerie swallowed and nodded again. He brought her to the one table in the middle of the restaurant that had two burning candles on it, pulled back her seat and motioned her to sit. From the dark shadows a waiter appeared. His appearance startled Valerie; she hadn't noticed him before. He handed them their menus.

"Mr. Wells, Madam."

It slowly dawned on Valerie that Nathan must have leased the whole restaurant that evening for a private dinner for the two of them. She beamed a smile at him. "This is... really special."

"You're a special lady," he said. He reached across the table and took the as yet unopened menu from her hands. "Will you let me choose tonight?"

Valerie blinked and gave a nod. "If that's what you want."

"It is," he confirmed. He opened his menu and studied it for a few minutes. The waiter returned with an unopened bottle of red wine.

"Sir?" Nathan glanced at the label and gave a nod of approval. The waiter opened the bottle and poured them both a glass before setting the bottle down beside Nathan's glass. "Have you made your choice?"

"Yes, we have," Nathan said. "The lady will have the Caesar salad and I'll take the fettuccine."

"Excellent choice," the waiter commented as he took away the menus.

While they waited for their food they talked about the week that lay behind them. Nathan complained about the many tasks of a producer. He entertained Valerie with stories about the stuck up actress that the company had hired for their shampoo commercial. "Sometimes," Nathan confessed in a whisper, "I wanted to take her over my knee and spank her until she pleaded for mercy."

Valerie began to laugh. "That would be something," she said. "I don't think her agent would stand for it though. They'd probably get you fired."

Nathan nodded. "Unfortunately, yes," he admitted with a theatrical sigh. "Not everyone appreciates a proper tanning. So, how was your week?"

Dinner arrived and Valerie told Nathan about her week. She mentioned Mr. Mackey who called twice a day every day, demanding to know why Mr. O'Leary had not yet found him the condo he desired. "Another person, who could do with some spanking," she giggled, blushing a little at the thought of paddling the sixty-six year old pensioner.

The waiter came for their plates. "Desert?"

"Just coffee," Nathan told him.

After the two cups of steaming black liquid had arrived, his expression grew serious. "Valerie..."

She blinked at the sudden intensity in his blue eyes. "Yes?" she replied, feeling a twitch of apprehension. Was all this an elaborate way of breaking up with her?

"Valerie," he repeated, "we've been seeing each other for, what, five months now? I've enjoyed every minute of it; I think you're a very special girl. So special, in fact, that I want to take you to a place that means a lot to me." He paused, collecting his thoughts, and she waited.

"What you are about to see might shock you. I want you to keep an open mind. Give it a chance. I see something in you; a quality that you probably don't even know you have. I'd like a chance to bring it out."

Valerie stared back at Nathan, confused. She had no idea what he was talking about and the perplexed look on her face spoke volumes. He sighed.

"I better show you," he said. "It's a lot easier to explain that way. All I ask of you is that you stay for an hour. If you still want to leave after that time, we'll go, and I won't ask you to come with me again. Can you do that for me?"

That didn't make things much clearer. Apprehension and a trace of excitement coursed through her veins. His blue eyes were so serious, the expression on his features so grave, it had to be important to him. Valerie nodded. "Yes." She felt like she had just made a decision that would forever change her life.

A pleased smile played around his lips. "Then, let's go."

He led her back to the car. After driving for fifteen minutes through the dark streets of Los Angeles, Valerie, a born-and-bred native of the city, would not have been able to find her way home without directions. Nathan had taken her to one of the downtown industrial areas, deserted and dark at this time of day. He pulled over the car, took something from his pocket and turned in his seat so he could face her.

"Valerie, I must ask you to wear this." He held up something small and after a few seconds of staring at it in the dim light of a distant street lamp, she realized it was a blindfold. Her eyes widened and she shrunk back.

"Nathan? Where are you taking me?" Her voice was uncertain and bit frightened.

Nathan reached out and trailed his thumb along her jaw. "Valerie, I care for you, greatly, and I would never let any harm come to you. Do you believe that?"

She scanned his face for a full minute, then gave a slow nod. "I guess so."

"Then please put this on."

Reluctant, Valerie reached for the blindfold and placed it over her eyes. What light there had been disappeared and she was shrouded in pitch-blackness. She tied the straps behind her head and gave a shuddering sigh. Nathan's lips brushed along her temple, just above the blindfold.

"You're doing great," he whispered in her ear. The affection in his voice made her feel a bit better and she settled back into her seat with a thin smile. Nathan shifted gears and drove off.

It didn't take long. Some five or ten minutes later -it was hard to tell when the blindfold robbed her of one of her most important senses- the car stopped again.

"You can take it off now," Nathan said as he killed the engine. Valerie snatched the blindfold from her eyes and blinked at the sudden influx of light. They were in a parking lot. Several expensive cars were parked beside theirs; she recognized a Mercedes, another Porsche and two BMWs. Other models she couldn't make out, but every car gleamed in the moonlight and looked worth more than twice her yearly salary.

Nathan had stepped out and opened her door. "You coming?" She accepted the offered hand and let him help her climb out of the car. She smoothed the dress nervously across her body. "Don't worry, you look wonderful," Nathan said, his hand resting on her upper arm. "Remember that. One hour, all right?"

Valerie nodded, not quite trusting her voice.

He led her around the corner of a dark, two-story building and knocked on a door. Two quick raps followed by three more. "This is a very private place," he explained. "Members only." The door opened to reveal a black man at least three inches taller than Nathan's six foot two. He wore a tuxedo and the jacket strained over his wide chest. The muted thump-thump of a popular beat followed him. Apparently, this was some sort of club. Valerie wondered what all the secrecy was about. If Nathan had wanted to take her dancing, they could have gone just about anywhere downtown.

"Hey Bob," Nathan greeted the doorman.

A grin appeared on the big man's face. "Hello, Mr. Wells. Long time no see."

Nathan smiled back. "I've been busy."

"So I see," Bob commented while his eyes took in Valerie. She gave a shiver and inched closer behind Nathan's body. "She new?"

"Yeah," Nathan nodded. "This is Valerie. It's about time I introduce her to my friends."

Bob chuckled. "She'll be quite an asset."

Valerie blinked. Asset? She didn't like the way the bouncer talked about her, like she was a... an object, instead of a human being. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. "Can we go in now?" she asked Nathan, pointedly ignoring the bouncer. "It's cold out here." She realized she had left her shawl in the car.

Bob chuckled again. "Like I said, quite an asset." He stepped aside and waved them in. Valerie followed Nathan on his heels, pressing herself closer against him as they shifted past Bob. She had half expected the beefy bouncer to cop a feel off her ass and was surprised when he didn't.

She followed Nathan through a short hallway, only illuminated by a single, shaded lamp, until they came upon another door. The music had grown louder and light peeked through the cracks at the top and bottom of the door. "Ready?" he asked. Valerie gave a nod, although she had no idea what she needed to be ready for.