Randy White - Black Widow

There wasn’t much I could say. She was right.

Sometimes life’s weird symmetry gets weirder. The same technique used to seduce my unlucky friend was now being used to entrap me.

I was naked, faceup on the table, draped with a sheet, while Norma stroked the inside of my legs, forcing blood up the thigh into the femoral triangle and genitals.

Spa literature was right. It is an ancient technique. The geishas of Japan study it; the massage prostitutes of Southeast Asia are masters. Squeegee strokes up the inner thigh affect even unwilling men and women for reasons that have more to do with hydrology than sexuality.

The clitoris and penis are the same organ but for the differentia of an X chromosome, a few inches, and thousands of years of sexual taboo. Both have spongelike regions of tissue. In the penis, the tissue is called corpus cavernosum; in the clitoris, it is glans clitoridis.

Male or female, penis or clitoris, the spongy tissue becomes engorged with blood when stimulated-or when blood is manipulated into the region. The primate brain reads the increased pressure as arousal. The body readies itself.

But my body wasn’t reacting as Norma expected. She kept at it, though, applying more oil, cupping the inside of my thigh, using strong fingers to accelerate blood through the saphenous vein, and also to stimulate the sensitive pudendal nerve, a high-voltage link between thigh and genitals.

A couple of times she pretended to slip and her fingers made contact- teasing what Tomlinson refers to as “Zamboni and the Hat Trick Twins.” No results.

It wasn’t the first time in my life I didn’t respond to a woman’s touch, but it was the first time I was ever happy about it.

Not that it was easy. Almond-scented oil… the woman’s knowing hands… sound of ocean waves rolling from the stereo… waves and the occasional caw and moan of sea birds.

I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be unaware of what the woman’s fingers were doing. I concentrated mightily on lofty topicsshark dissections… jellyfish… befouled water filters-because I was enjoying Norma’s frustration a hell of a lot more than I would’ve enjoyed what Norma was offering.

It helped knowing that this classic massage finesse had been used to hurt a friend. It also helped knowing that I was being filmed. Filmed… or, at the very least, watched on a monitor.

There was a miniature camera lens mounted over the massage table, disguised as a sprinkler head. There was another built into a smoke alarm hanging on the wall at the foot of the table. Common little minicameras-amateur spy shops sell them.

I’d located the cameras as I got undressed. The discovery wasn’t accidental. Recalling my friend’s experience had provided linkage to what should have been obvious: Shay, Beryl, and friends had been entrapped by a similar ploy using gradual sexual persuasion.

My friend’s hotel “therapist” had done it for his own amusement. .. or maybe he’d had a hidden camera, too. But Norma was doing it because she worked for a woman who profited by luring wealthy people into this orchid-scented trap.

A health spa with snob appeal on a tropical island-the perfect vehicle for someone like Isabelle Toussaint. I reminded myself of something else: Toussaint enjoyed humiliating her victims.

Of course there would be cameras hidden in the treatment rooms. In the cloisters, too. I’d already confirmed there was one in my room-a mini-lens in the clock radio. Someone had searched the place, too; expected-which is why I’d stashed my contraband gear in an overhead gallery bay outside my door.

"You got big, thick muscles, Mr. North, you sure do. And some scars here and there, more than most. That tells me you live a man’s life.” Norma had switched to the other leg and was lathering her hands with oil. She had also switched her approach.

“I feel bad now, being sharp with you earlier. Man like you deserves to be treated right. So you just… you just let go for Norma, and Norma will make you feel very fine. Sure you don’t want a drink of my herbal tonic?”

I said, “No, but I’m just about ready for a beer. Hey-take it easy.”

“Little pain’s good for the body, but I’ll be real gentle from now on.”

Norma cupped her hands around my thigh, and began forcing the blood upward. You can’t remain sexually disinterested when someone you find attractive does what she was doing. Physically, Norma was attractive-an abundance of curves in a select few places.

Focusing on sharks and jellyfish was a battle. There was also something oddly arousing about the stereo sounds of those ocean waves with birds crying in the background. Why?

It was a battle I began to lose.

“Well, well… I can see you like that. Um-huh. Yes… you like that a lot…

“… nowwwwww you’re starting to relax. Why… yes, you are. I bet you’d find it even more relaxing if I started massaging this part right here-”

There was a delay of a foggy few seconds before I put my hands under the sheet and stopped her.

“Why… what’s wrong, Mr. North? You’re enjoying what I’m doing. That’s very obvious.”

“Yeah, I am. Feels great.”

“Then why stop me?”

“Surprised, I guess. I’ve never had a doctor do that before.”

“Didn’t say I was a doctor. Said I was highly trained like one.”

“You’ve had a lot of practice, I’m convinced. But what’s the catch? You aren’t selling. You’re not the type… or are you?”

The woman pulled her hands away. “I don’t tolerate that kind of talk, mister. Why say something so nasty?”

I sat up. “Because you’ve got too much going for you to make a living giving hand jobs to strangers. There has to be another reason.”

She was flustered by my reaction. “I’m… I’m just trying to make you feel good. You’ve got knots and ching chi blockages from your feet to your neck. You don’t want me to get rid of those things?”

“Sex isn’t allowed-that’s what they told us at orientation. You’re a pretty woman, Norma. Beautiful, in the right gown, the right makeup. I’m attracted-obviously. But who am I supposed to believe?”

People paid to act like drill sergeants seldom receive compliments. I was surprised at how she softened. The woman touched a hand to her hair; her tone became confidential. “You’re right, but not all the way right. Novitiates aren’t allowed to have relations with their partners. It’s a way of purifying-so the man and woman can start fresh together after they leave.”

I asked, “But it’s okay to have sex with someone who’s not your partner?”

The woman gave me an odd look, her expression asking, Are you kidding?"It’s possible that’s why some clients come back. It’s a spiritual thing, experiencing other human beings. Just another form of therapy, like we’re doing right here. Don’t think of it as sex.”

When she reached to continue, I took her hands in mine, and squeezed them fondly. “It is tempting. You’re more than attractive-you’re spectacular when you get rid of that frown. But what would I tell my lady friend?”

Norma looked at me like I was crazy. “Man, why do you have to tell the woman anything? What happens in this room stays in this room, I promise you that.”

I was tempted to wink at one of the cameras. Instead, I said, “If you were dating a man who didn’t tell the truth, how would you feel?”

“Not surprised. I buried one man, got engaged to another, but it didn’t last. Neither told the truth.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But I think the lady and I should at least be engaged before I start lying to her. Don’t you?”

Instead of bristling, Norma smiled, then chuckled. It was genuine, and she softened even more-a good-looking woman with tropical eyes, sweat beading on her skin where her blouse was open, showing rims of beige bra cupping her breasts.