The Dark Side of Eleanor Warwick
CURSES

There’s a one-bedroom apartment in Nickletown that is not like the others. In apartment 7-J, a slim, middle-aged Asian woman speaks into her cell phone.

“I told you I’m not going.”

Nora Chen, professionally known as Mistress Kim, paces the room, her tight leather skirt squeaks as she goes. Her phone is in one hand and a spool of rope is in the other.

“It’s in Thailand. I made the trip to Hawaii last time. One destination wedding was bad enough, but I draw the line at two destination weddings.”

She sits on the edge of her large four-post bed, ignoring the whimpering and squirming of the naked submissive thereon.

“Of course, money is an issue. Isn’t it always?”

She stretches her long, slender legs, adorned with thigh-high leather boots.

“I said it was an issue. I didn’t say I needed a loan. Business is…,” she turns the rope over in her hand, “fine. I’ll just catch the next one.”

She shares a laugh with her caller. “Yeah. I’m sure this one is forever.”

She raises a curious eyebrow. “No. Why? What’s she doing now?”

There’s a loud moan behind her. She takes the phone from her ear and covers the mic with her thumb.

“Quiet!” she barks over her shoulder. “One more sound out of you and you’ll regret it!”

The sounds soften but continue.

Back to the phone call, she lowers her voice. “Oh, not that nonsense again. Just ignore her. That’s what I do. She just wants attention.”

She giggles. “Yeah. Daughter of the year over here. Look, I’ve got to go. Yeah. See you then. Love you.”

She ends the call and sighs. Setting the phone aside, she stands and turns to the bed. “Were you actively trying to intrude on my phone call, Eleanor?”

Eleanor glances in her direction, her glasses awkwardly off-kilter. “No, Mistress Kim. I was trying to stay quiet, but…this position is…really tough.”

Kim looks over her work. Eleanor’s arms are strictly tied behind her back at both the wrists and elbows. Another rope is attached to her bound wrists and fed through a metal ring hanging above. More ropes bind her calves and thighs together, forcing her into a kneeling position on the mattress. Her arms are pulled up at such an extreme, it forces her to bend forward, her chest touching the bed.

Uncomfortable, sure, but it gets worse. The rope feeds through the ring, comes down, and is knotted around Eleanor’s thick curly hair. The tension pulls her head back, trapping her in a painfully contorted pose.

Mistress Kim is unmoved by her plight. “Sounds like you’re making excuses.”

Eleanor groans. The stress casts her face a light shade of pink. “Please, Mistress Kim. Can you untie me?”

Taking up her phone again, Kim checks a running timer. “Nope.”

Whining, Eleanor shifts her knees, trying to replace a more comfortable stance. There is none to be found.

“In fact, I’m adding some time, since you were so rude during my call.”

“No, Mistress Kim! Please!”

“20 more minutes should do it.”

“Mistress Kim!” Eleanor pleads. She grits her teeth and considers using her safeword. She steels herself. She can do it. She can bear it.

Suddenly the tension disappears.

Eleanor’s head crashes down on the mattress, her glasses finally bailing. Her body relaxes. She breathes heavily.

Kim twirls a pair of medical shears. The rope lies limply on the bed, severed in two. Kim watches her client gather herself. She waits but quickly grows impatient. Grabbing a handful of Eleanor’s already-taxed hair, Kim roughly jerks her head up off the mattress.

Eleanor cries in surprise. Kim speaks clearly into her ear. “What do we say, Eleanor?”

“Thank you, Mistress Kim.”

“Good girl.” Kim pushes Eleanor’s head back down to the mattress.

Crawling onto the bed behind her, Kim begins to slowly pry apart the knots keeping the ropes cinched around Eleanor’s arms. Eleanor holds as still as she can, humming softly as the painful grip of the bondage begins to disappear. As each rope is relieved of its duties, Kim haphazardly tosses them to the floor.

Once the untying is complete, Eleanor sprawls on the bed, stretching her limbs. Kim offers her glasses. Eleanor smiles as she returns her spectacles to her nose. “Thank you, Mistress Kim.”

Kim only offers a haughty expression. “Get all this rope picked up and spooled. Now.” She walks away without awaiting a response.

She gets one anyway as Eleanor scurries off the bed and obediently gets to work. “Yes, Mistress Kim.”

Mistress Kim exits her dungeon, such as it is, and enters her living room. The trappings of a dominatrix’s lair are all absent here. Only the typical furnishings of a working-class home are present.

Kim gathers a bottle of water and steps over to the window. She looks over the lights of the city and sighs. Talking with her sister is always difficult. Emily is younger than her but more successful. Financially, at least.

The internet has made the commoditization of her talents easier than ever, but you wouldn’t guess that from her bank statements. Much like the city she loves, Kim is behind the times. She doesn’t replace fulfillment in online interaction. She prefers face-to-face sessions. Personal connections. Then there are the overhead costs of her profession. Ever priced a high-end latex catsuit?

Even if she was pulling down big money, her family would not replace hers to be a respectable vocation if they knew about it. Maybe dropping out of college was a mistake, she wonders for the 1000th time in her adult life.

Glancing down at the street, she nearly spits out her water. She spots an elderly Asian woman crossing to her building.

“Gan,” she curses in Mandarin.

Turning from the window, she hurries back into the bedroom/dungeon. Eleanor looks up from coiling a length of rope as she bursts in. “Forget the rope,” she orders. “Just get dressed.”

Eleanor is confused as Kim sits on the edge of her bed and begins to loosen the laces on her leather boots. She looks to replace Eleanor lingering. “Now!” She snaps her fingers. “Now! Go!”

Shaking off her fluster, Eleanor springs into action. She hurries over to the neat, folded stack she left her clothes in and begins to dress.

Kim pulls off her boots and throws them in her closet. She puts on a silk robe and ties it around her waist as she hurries back into the living room. She checks herself to make sure none of her fetishwear is showing. “Come on, Eleanor. Hurry up.”

A knock on her door makes her heart sink in her chest. The old bat can really move when she wants to. Eleanor rushes through the door, dressed but for her shoes, which she carries in her hand.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

Kim just looks at her with an aggravated expression. “I’m sorry, Eleanor.” Without further explanation, she moves to the door and opens it.

Eleanor watches a short old woman march in without invitation. She wears a green hooded raincoat, despite a lack of rain outside, and clutches a bag in her hand. Eleanor looks back and forth as she and Kim speak animatedly at each other in Mandarin. She desperately wants to leave, but they’re in front of the door.

She nearly jumps back as the old woman snaps her head towards her. The old woman gestures at her and speaks to Kim. Kim responds and Eleanor hears her name.

“Eleanor,” Kim says with an annoyed voice, “this is my mother, Rita.”

“Oh. Hello. You’ve got a great daughter,” she says with a smile.

Rita isn't flattered by the compliment. She speaks directly to Kim, but clearly about Eleanor.

“You know,” Eleanor draws their attention again, “I actually speak a little Mandarin.”

“She speaks English,” Kim says.

“Oh, good, because that was a lie.”

Rita finally speaks directly to her. “Who are you?”

Kim interjects. “She’s just a friend, Mother. She was on her way out. Weren’t you, Eleanor?”

“Yep. Just…on my way to…meetings. Business.”

“Why are you holding your shoes?”

“It’s polite to take your shoes off when you enter someone’s home, right?”

“Yes,” Rita shoots Kim a look, “but my daughter has never cared about that. Despite what I tell her.”

“Well, I’m older now, Mother. Eleanor really needs to be going, so if you’re done interrogating her…”

“Yes. Go. I need to talk to my daughter. Very important.”

Rita sits down on the couch. Eleanor quickly makes for the door. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Chen.”

There’s no response from the old woman. Kim, on the other hand, stares daggers at her. Eleanor quickly realizes her error. Grasping Eleanor’s arm, Kim pulls her out into the hall of the apartment building.

Eleanor squirms under her gaze. “You know my name?” Kim asks.

“Um…yes.”

“What? Are you investigating me? You wouldn’t be the first, but I don’t appreciate it. I’d have told you if you asked.”

“No, no. Please. It was nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

Eleanor has no desire to dredge up the memory of Evelyn Grey and experience the guilt that comes with it. If Kim knew she was under surveillance for weeks by a shadowy government agency due to her connection to Eleanor, that connection would be severed.

“It’s not what you think, but I really can’t get into it. Just please trust me that it was entirely incidental.”

Kim crosses her arms and looks her in the eye. “Alright, Eleanor. I trust you. I’m sorry. I’m just on edge. With my mother showing up.”

Eleanor nods. “I guess she does it a lot?”

“More so recently. To me and my sister. My grandmother died a few years ago. 94 years old. So now Mother has it in her head that she’s cursed.”

Eleanor stares at her. “Cursed?”

“Yeah. My grandparents were born and raised in rural China. They believed in a lot of myths and mysticism and things. Mother does too. She thinks her mother carried the curse, and hers, and hers, and one day it will be mine. It’s a bunch of superstitious nonsense.” Kim shakes her head and heads back to her door. “I’m sorry about this, Eleanor. I’ll make it up to you next time.”

Kim stops short when Eleanor suddenly grabs her arm. Kim looks back at her in surprise. The look on Eleanor’s face is deadly serious.

“I need to see her.”

“What?”

“Your mother. I just need to step back inside and look at her. It’ll just take a moment.”

“No. You need to go now, Eleanor.”

“Kim, please. It’s important.”

Kim’s nostrils flare. “You’re pushing a boundary here, Eleanor. This is my real life, okay? Stay out of it or we are through. This is your only warning.”

Kim goes to return to her apartment, but Eleanor speaks softly.

“Nora.”

She turns back to her, astonished at her gall.

“This is going to be very hard for you to hear, but I need you to listen. If you don’t let me see your mother, I’ll just wait outside for her. I have an obligation to help her if she needs it. You think she doesn’t, but she disagrees. If she tells me to get lost, then I will. But you don’t get to make that decision for her.”

“Are you talking about the curse? For God’s sake, Eleanor, it’s the delusion of an old woman. And believe me when I tell you, she’s only trying to manipulate.”

Eleanor nods. “Yeah. That’s probably the case. It’ll only take me two seconds to replace out. But if she’s right, I can help her. I can help you.”

“Help her how?”

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor prepares for the talk. “Long story short, curses are real. Magic is real.”

Kim narrows her eyes.

“And I know this…because I’m a wizard.”