Free Love's Sacrifice by Georgia le Carre Page A

look at each other—both our eyes are shining. She doesn’t know it, but both of us have just made a bargain with the devil.

Eleven
    Lana Barrington
     
     
    There is hardly a breeze to ameliorate the relentless humidity that extends into the night like the embrace of an unwanted lover. The wet heat hits us like a wall when we exit the hotel. We have dinner in a beautiful restaurant in the middle of Bangkok then Blake takes me to a club. It is darkly lit, smoky, and throbbing with sultry music, but it is also air conditioned and wonderfully cool. It seems full of European men and scantily clad, snake-hipped local girls. All the tables and booths face a round stage.
    ‘ What is this place?’ I ask Blake.
    ‘ It’s a place where everything is allowed.’
    There is a stage lit with a red light.
    We are taken to a booth by a girl in a lace bustier, leather knickers and black stockings. ‘You like something to drink?’ she asks.
    ‘ Give us a couple of your most potent cocktails,’ Blake says.
    She nods, smiles and leaves.
    I look around me. ‘We are in a sex club, aren’t we?’
    Blake grins. ‘I love that it’s taken you all this time to figure that out.’
    The drinks arrive, umbrellas galore. I take a sip. It is deceptively cloying. I should be careful. I have already had a few over dinner.
    ‘ I’ve changed my mind. Get me a whiskey,’ Blake tells the waitress.
    She nods and leaves.
    The blue neon light comes on over the stage. A girl walks on. She is dressed in a white bikini top and matching thong. The costume glows against her dusky skin. She has long black hair that reaches her waist. A tiny little man with a sickly yellow complexion runs in front of her and deposits a stool at the edge of the stage. She gyrates and dances around the stool. I have a sudden fear that she is going to drop a wet gerbil.
    Slowly she peels her sticky thong off. Underneath she is wearing a Brazilian wax. I squirm in my seat. The memory of Billie telling me she felt as if she had stolen a part of their soul by watching them is still fresh in my mind. Besides, I am jealous, I am not sure I want Blake to be watching this. He turns his eyes toward me.
    ‘ Just think of her as a performer. I only want you.’
    I look into his eyes. Unconvinced, I touch him between the legs. He is un-aroused. It may be childish of me, but that makes me feel a whole lot better. I leave his eyes and concentrate on the stage. The girl sits on the stool and suddenly lifts her legs athletically off the ground. With her knees held straight she opens them into a wide V towards the audience. All her bits are exposed to the audience. A spotlight is shone onto her vagina. It is an uncomfortable moment for me. I keep thinking that Blake might be attracted to her. I hate the thought.
    I take a huge gulp of my drink. The same man who brought the stool brings a cigarette box to her! He offers it to her and she takes one. With a face as serious as murder he lights it for her and she puts it into her mouth. I stare with astonishment as she transfers the cigarette from her mouth to her vagina and starts blowing perfect smoke rings! I turn to Blake, but he is looking at me.
    ‘ I don’t want to watch.’
    ‘ Then don’t,’ he murmurs in my ear. I feel his hand slide up my thigh.
    ‘ Blake,’ I protest.
    ‘ Everything is allowed here. You didn’t really think I came to see that performance, did you?’
    ‘ What did you come for?’ I ask breathily.
    ‘ I came here to fuck in public.’
    I draw in a mortified breath. ‘What?’
    I feel his fingers moving up my thighs, parting them and entering me.
    ‘ No,’ I say, shaking my head, but the alcohol I have consumed at dinner is singing in my blood, and the blood is pounding in my veins. A crackle of magical static is throbbing wetly between my legs.
    ‘ Nobody can see us. And,’ he adds persuasively, ‘even if they can we will never see them again. So what do you care what they think?
    The truth is I