by Jaie Helier
(10/4/00)

Win had stared at the drawings for fully twenty seconds in total silence. It felt like an eternity, and Cate was certain she was sunk. Okay, it was an experiment -- she would learn from experience and never do it again. Abruptly the tall editor grabbed Cate's arm and shook it, her wild laugh echoing in the small room.

"Darling, that's the whackiest thing I've ever seen! Gimme more. Can you?"

"Yes. You like it?"

"Of course I do! Look there's six of these damn boring articles and I've got no choice but to print them. If you can do the others like this, darling, you'll save us. What can we call it?"

"Call it?"

"It's a little series, sweetie. Needs a title."

"Er ... Cate's Eye View?"

Win whooped and departed, leaving Cate stunned with the success of her first real contract. Cate did a little dance for joy. Win was brilliant -- she had been encouraging Cate since before she left art school. She always seemed to believe in her, and she had given her the time to develop. For Cate, that had been particularly important. Her college time had been interrupted for a while when she went completely off the rails. It had taken real strength for her to find her way back, and the encouragement of Win and so many others had been crucial.

Cate's curiously distorted little illustrations of everyday life were, in a sense, inspired by her worst times, and the girl with the blank expression who figured in most of them was definitely her. The girl's face still scared her. At times like now, with Morgan away, she felt she could just slip back in spite of having come so far. It was her ability to make pictures out of her feelings that had helped her escape the self-destructive cycle of sex and drugs she had been drawn into. Now, the same weird girl, used in a more everyday context, was going to help her succeed. It felt a little like playing with fire, but at this point she didn't care. It worked.

Cate arrived home, elated, wishing like hell that Morgan was there. He had been away for ten days now and, though he phoned every night, she missed him like a part of herself. She put her folder down on the table and took the drawings out. The girl stared back at her with her strange dead eyes and Cate felt the emptiness of the flat like a wound. Meeting Morgan had been such a big part of her recovery. He had held her together with love and trust, and sometimes just literally by holding her, when everything around her had seemed more distorted than her drawings. She missed him now. Her body missed him.

She smoothed back her long dark hair and closed her eyes. Thinking about him took her breath away. Her imagination had always been her salvation and her downfall, leading her body wherever it wanted to go. She could feel his fingers on her skin, so strong, so sure; melting away her terrors, calming her. He could make her cry with the sweetness of the feelings he gave her. Or he could make her wild. She would ride him like a stallion; lost in the exhilaration of freedom, consumed with fiery pleasure. She touched her breast through the unbuttoned top of her shirt. She wanted him; she needed him now. She groaned aloud with the frustrated desire. She could feel him all through her body and taste him in her mouth, but he wasn't there.

She sank on to the couch with a moan and laid back, letting his presence fill her mind. Her fingers massaged the soft flesh at the top of her breast, and a glow spread through her body. She remembered the morning he left, when they had woken before it became light. She had no idea of when she had become aware of him, but he was kissing her neck so softly, awakening her senses and her desires. She turned, and they kissed while his fingers caressed the valley between her breasts and over her belly. He was whispering beautiful things into her skin, and tickling her just a little in the places she loved. It was so painful to think of it now when he wasn't there. In that early morning it was as though her dreams had slipped over into reality. The delicate pulsing of desire had left her so weak she could hardly tell where his fingers and lips merged with the warm sheets and with the air. She had moaned aloud in delicious confusion and he just laughed softly and took her nipple in his mouth. She bit her lip and tried to hold back her cries as tiny waves of pleasure enlivened her body.

Now, as she thought of it, her fingers touching the places where the memory in her skin could still feel him, she realised he must have woken much earlier. She had been so aroused. Thinking of it now made her want to cry. Why did he stay away so long? Desire was dangerous for her -- didn't he understand that? It was the first time she had been so long on her own since she had met him and it seemed endless. The idea scared her. She was terrified of slipping back, of losing control of her life again. She hadn't told him how afraid she still was and she had avoided thinking about it all the time he had been away. She kept busy; told herself he would come home soon -- getting in her way, distracting her like he always did, making her crazy with love.

Morgan. She groaned in frustration. How could she be so wracked with desire? It was stupid. Why didn't the strength of her need make him appear? She clamped her hand roughly between her legs, pressing hard. He had made her climax so easily that morning, his fingers awash in her sex, squeezing her nipples one by one with his tongue and biting them softly with his teeth. She had felt almost ashamed to be so consumed with pleasure and he, delighted, had drawn back to watch her, his dark eyes glowing in the thin early light.

After that he held her close, his body curling round beneath her legs in their favourite position; his penis pressing urgently against her slit. She had bathed him in her moisture and taken him deep inside her. For a time they lay quite still, holding each other close, kissing and murmuring. He filled her and it felt good and so necessary for him to be there -- she felt almost surprised that he was ever not there. When they began to move it was slight, delicate. In between the broken fragments of conversation, the endearments, the longings, the murmured disbelief that they could be separated and for so long, she tilted and eased her hips and felt his body respond. Just these slow small movements bound them, filled them both with the same breathless pleasure and made them one. Aware of his breath on her cheek in the unearthly dawn light, of his arm across her breast, of her body turning to warm honey, of her need to cry and beg him not to go, she had lost herself in their lovemaking, and somehow when it was over he had gone and left her sleeping. She woke later, her head aching, fear clutching her and a feeling of desperate emptiness. Perhaps it was better than waving him away -- in any case she knew he had meant it like that. She had gotten up and worked, locking away her heart.

Lying back on the sofa thinking of Morgan, Cate fell asleep. It was strange -- she knew she was asleep and was aware that she was dreaming, yet she didn't wake up. The room seemed hazy and full of shadows. She felt she wasn't alone, and yet she could see no-one else. On her drawings, the girl with the blank eyes had disappeared, but that didn't seem odd -- somehow Cate hadn't expected to see her there. Now only the distortions were left. She found her way to the bedroom. There was a shower there, the water running hot and steaming on to the bedroom floor. She realised she was wearing only a t-shirt. She took it off and stepped naked under the shower.

The hot streams of water licked at her body. She gasped. It seemed alive, finding its way into every crevice, filling her with erotic feelings. She leapt out with a cry, then turned and stared, but it looked like water, nothing else. She moved under it again and let it run over her skin, trying not to be alarmed. The feelings returned, making her breathless with the sensations of hot tongues slithering between her breasts and buttocks, over her belly and all down her legs. She let herself relax in it, wondering how far it would take her, how far her dream would let her go. Not scared anymore, she began to touch herself, cupping her breasts in her hands and rubbing her thighs together in the warm stream.

The water tickled her delicately like Morgan did. It slipped between her legs and made her moan. She turned her face up into the falling water and closed her eyes. It felt like fingers, not just hers, but someone's, driving her, knowing all the secret places that only she knew. She opened her eyes and smiled.

In front of her was a girl, naked, touching her. She should have known. The girl was beautiful, utterly beautiful. Her body was full and sensual, her lips were parted and deep red on her pale, glowing skin. One of her hands was between her thighs, painting her sex with long, soulful fingerstrokes. Cate looked at her, entranced, but the girl's eyes were expressionless, like an empty space longing to be filled. She recognised her -- it was the girl she had drawn -- herself. The girl came close until their faces were almost touching. She leaned forward and kissed Cate's open mouth.

"You belong to me," she said.

They kissed again and Cate was consumed with her. It was the strongest and strangest feeling she had ever had. She had never felt such desire for anyone. She drew her under the streams of water, kissing her passionately, their hands exploring their undulating flesh. Cate felt she was climaxing, yet the desire only became greater. The girl smothered both their cries with her mouth and clamped Cate's fingers hard against her sex.

"Morgan," Cate moaned. She thought of him now, desperate to feel him inside her.

"He won't come," the girl said.

"Why not?" Cate cried out in frustration.

She wanted to wake up, but the girl held her and wouldn't let her go.

"Because you will kill him," she said.

Cate stared at her in horrified astonishment. How could she kill Morgan when she loved him so much? He was so much more powerful than she was. She felt tiny in his hands, totally dependent on him. Behind her the wall was dissolving and she sensed the space growing around her. The air was filled with seductive sounds and enticing scents that made Cate's head spin. She turned and peered into the gloom. People were standing in soft pools of light, drinking and laughing. They were beautifully dressed. It was almost like a cocktail party, but the atmosphere was heavily erotic. Couples were making love in alcoves and corners, and one couple was in the centre of the room on a divan. Nearby, a woman in a long black dress was kneeling in front of a man, taking him in her mouth, while another woman, standing beside him, whispered intensely in his ear.

"I shouldn't go in here."

"You have no choice."

"Morgan ... "

"He won't come back," the girl said again.

"But I belong to him."

"You belong to me," she said, and disappeared into Cate's mouth.

It was strange that she did that. Cate turned to look at herself in the mirror. Utterly beautiful, tall and poised, her rich, naked body glowing, her eyes expressionless. She was strong, powerful. It was Morgan who made her weak. He had turned her into a hopeless dependant, needing him for everything, terrified to be alone. She was his sex slave, trapped by her own desires. How sweet to belong to herself again.

Cate stepped into the darkened room. She was naked, but it didn't seem to matter. She drifted from one group to the next. People spoke to her, but she heard nothing that they said. She felt their eyes on her, making love to her, and when she replied to them she heard only the sexual purr of her own voice. People kissed her and touched her breasts; they seemed to linger in the luxurious warmth of her skin. Cate's fingers followed theirs, fascinated by the feeling. By a table filled with fruit, a woman with almond eyes lifted the side of her skirt and pressed Cate's hand over and over again to her sex, licking her own moisture from Cate's fingertips. Cate felt delighted by her and they laughed. The softness of the room and the murmur of voices seemed to hypnotise them.

When she turned away, she saw a man standing near her, being kissed by a beautiful dark-haired woman. He told Cate he would like to penetrate her from behind, and she smiled at him. His companion knelt in front of Cate to support her as she bent down. Cate's body seemed to draw him in easily, though she couldn't remember ever being penetrated that way before, and his companion kissed her cheek and stroked her softly. Cate leant patiently on the woman's shoulders until he had finished, drinking in the fragrance at her neck. She kissed the woman and turned to look at him. His penis was softening. Cate thanked him and drifted away.

Cate leaned against a pillar beside a young woman whose lover had his penis inside her. She was writhing on the end of it, holding her skirt around her waist. She seemed as graceful as a dancer. Cate closed her eyes and listened to the young woman's cries; they were sweet like music. It awakened such desire in her as she gazed at the boy's glistening penis pumping in and out of the girl's vulva. Cate felt herself getting wet, and she pushed her fingers between the lips of her own sex. It felt beautiful to listen to the girl's song of ecstasy, and to feel her own pleasure mounting, but very quickly it was not enough.

She caught the boy's eye and felt herself sending powerful waves of heat and desire in his direction. Within a moment, he withdrew from his lover and plunged his erect penis, deliciously wet with the girl's juices, into Cate's pulsating slit that she held open for him. The girl screamed with frustration and pushed her fingers in to fill the space he had left. Intoxicated, the boy thrust into Cate, grasping her breasts and crying out as she surged back powerfully. People paused in their conversations to look at their magnificent bodies caught in each other's thrall. Even the girl paused in her anguished masturbation to stare in wonder. Cate switched him round to push him against the pillar, driving her body on him, paralysing him with the force of her desire. They climaxed together, the boy arched back, howling, falling to his knees. She let him fall, and leaned against the pillar, moaning. The conversations resumed.

Amid the murmur of voices Cate heard one that was familiar. Deep male tones from across the room. She listened to it, letting the sound resonate in her belly. The girl beside her was whining.

"What will you do for me now? He is crippled and useless."

She was standing with her hand clapped hard over her sex, her face wet with tears of desperation.

"I can't come anymore on my own."

The voice Cate had heard was stirring her wildly. It came from long ago, though she couldn't place it. A harsh growling voice that she knew instinctively would arouse her to the pitch of madness. Nothing the boy had done had even begun to satisfy her, and her needs were twisting her insides. She thought for a moment of Morgan -- how stupid to ever think of him as a lover. He was less than that boy. She grasped the girl by the hair.

"Come with me," she said.

The girl squealed and tottered behind, as Cate led her across the room. At a table under a fierce lamp two men sat talking in intense murmurs. One was clothed in black leather, his chest bare. His body was scarred and huge; his jet hair reached to below his shoulders. The other was dressed in an expensive suit and had white hair and rings on his hands. Cate threw the girl at him and watched as she climbed inside his suit, impaling herself on his cock. They seemed to attack each other like animals. He laid her on the table and copulated furiously with her.

Cate laughed in wild contempt for them. She looked back towards the man in black leather but he had gone. He was behind her now. His arms closed around her and he held her tightly, hissing into her ear.

"Your skin is stinking of desire." He grasped her hair, forcing her head back.

"You've had the whole room and still you're not satisfied."

"No," she groaned.

"As ever," he said, laughing harshly at her.

She snarled at him.

"That's why you had to come back, isn't it? For this."

From behind his back, he brought out a huge whip and held it in front of her. The stock was black leather, like him, and the tip was gleaming silver. For a moment it was the most exhilarating sight she had ever seen. She could feel the wicked thongs biting into her flesh. She threw back her head, howling in triumph; and suddenly the girl with the empty eyes leapt from her mouth, laughing.

Cate stared at the girl in horror as his grip tightened around her. She was naked in a room. Defenceless. Trapped in the arms of this monster she had escaped long ago. Cate screamed. She was betrayed.

"Morgan," she cried out. "Morgan!"

The girl with the dead eyes screeched with laughter. Cate was hurled to the floor, weeping in terror, and the man in black leather raised the whip over her. She was waking -- with nothing in her mind but emptiness. At that moment the telephone rang.

Cate woke up, trembling and struggling. She had been crying in her sleep and she felt very shaken. She realised the telephone really was ringing. She took deep breaths to calm herself, and picked it up.

"Hello ... " she said.

"Cate?"

"Yes."

"Are you alright?"

"Morgan ... " She tried not to sob. "Where are you?"

"Bellfield."

"Where?"

"About 150 miles south. You sound terrible."

"I'm ... " She desperately wanted to tell him but ... "I've been asleep."

"We finished this morning. I wanted to tell you last night, but I wasn't sure we'd make it."

"You're coming home!" Her heart leapt as the message began to penetrate. He had to come home. She needed him.

"We finished later than I'd hoped. I couldn't set off until two this afternoon. I didn't have lunch -- I haven't stopped driving since."

"You must be exhausted."

He had to keep driving -- he had to come. She couldn't bear another night without him.

"I didn't get much sleep last night either," he said.

She looked at the clock on her wall -- it was nearly ten. She'd been asleep for hours.

"Is the traffic heavy?"

"Horrendous -- and I was falling asleep, I'm so tired. But now I hear your voice I think I can go on. There's a kind of sad motel here but ... to stop when I 'm so close."

No. She could feel it screaming through her body. She wanted to plead with him to keep driving. The words were forming in her mouth, when suddenly she caught sight of the drawing spread out on the table next to her, and saw the blank expressionless eyes staring out at her.

'He won't come back.' She could hear the girl's contemptuous laughter, and she thought of the beautiful, powerful young woman she had seen in the mirror. Why was it that Morgan always made her weak?

"Cate ... " He sounded anxious, and she realised she had been silent. "Shall I drive on?"

A thought began to form in her mind -- a way to take control.

"I want you so much," he murmured.

"I want you too. You can't imagine," she breathed into the phone. "I've missed you like hell but ... if you are killed on the road, I won't have you tonight or tomorrow or ever again."

He said nothing. He could hear the catch in her voice and the strange slowness when she spoke.

"Eat something, my love." Tears were streaming down her face. "Sleep a little and tomorrow ... could you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Start driving to me before it's light." She began to feel a little stronger. "Let yourself in with your key. Get undressed and I will pretend to be asleep. I won't be, because I don't think I'll sleep a wink tonight."

He laughed softly.

"Climb into bed beside me, my darling. You don't have to make love to me if you feel tired but ... hold me."

"I love you, Cate."

"Take care on the road."

Cate sat staring into the empty room. She wasn't afraid anymore. For the first time, the girl with the blank expressionless eyes was just a drawing. Cate was real, like her love for Morgan. She thought of tomorrow morning. Maybe she would sleep a little after all. She wondered if her crazy nightmares would return as soon as she shut her eyes, but she didn't think so anymore. From now on the Cate's Eye View was just a way to make a living.