HOW WE SERVE MASTER

“What did you tell her?” I ask.

“I told her I couldn’t,” my friend Martha tells me.

We’re having lunch at our second favorite cafe, discussing Martha’s appointment last night with Mistress Kaylish.

“What did the evil redhead say then?”

Martha shakes her head. “Nothing. She just nodded at Yoshiko — who dragged me by my hair back to my bedroom and beat me with that whip of hers.”

Yoshiko is Mistress Kaylish’s sex slave assistant. An evil Japanese pile of crab shit who enforces discipline for her owner.

“And …”

I’m gonna egg her on until I get the whole story.

Her voice is more subdued now.

“Vera. If you see them again … Vera, she’ll do you, too.”

“I have an appointment with her next week,” I say.

Kind of off point, she says, “I couldn’t do it the way you do. At a hotel.”

Martha meets and serves the mistress in a hidey-hole she has in the Bronx. I always reserve a motel room.

I shrug.

She suddenly shudders.

“Awful,” she says. “Just awful. The only thing good about it was that it was so damn humiliating.”

She’s back to smiling. Says …

“And you know how much I like that.”

Last night …

Under Mistress Kaylish’s direction …

Yoshiko fisted Martha.

Anally.

Her voice is subdued again.

“I’m warning you, Vera. She’ll do you, too.”

I pat her arm and say …

“Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play.”

We laugh and get started on the real reason for meeting here.

To bad mouth our friends.