The Brokerage

The cell phone light blinked, indicating an incoming call; this was the third time in as many minutes. Clicking her tongue in annoyance at the disturbance, Shaila pushed away the strands of dark, slightly damp hair clinging to her temples, and reached for the offending instrument.

"Oh, god, no!" she groaned out loud as she saw and recognised the number. It was Giri, her real estate broker. Shaila had been trying to avoid the man but he was simply too persistent. "Might as well find out what he wants and get him off my back," she grumbled to herself, and pressed the answer button.

"Ah, Mr.Giri," she exclaimed, "What a surprise! I wasn't expecting your call..." There was no trace of impatience in her high, clear voice, and the conversation, where she only contributed the occasional "yes," "of course," and "not a problem" was pleasantly brief.

When it was over, Shaila remained at her desk, staring unseeingly at the flickering images on her monitor for a few moments. It had been a long day, and she couldn't wait to get back home, and grab a few minutes for herself, maybe soak in a tub of warm sandal scented water, if there was time, before her husband and daughter trooped home demanding one thing or the other. Now, thanks to Giri's call, she had to make a detour to her flat first.

She rose and slipped her feet into the high heeled slippers she had kicked off under her desk, dropped her cell phone into her handbag, and left the office, locking the door behind her.

*

Giri, Shaila's real estate agent, had called, saying her previous tenant had returned the remote control of the a/c she had reported missing, and asked if she could please come by to the flat so that he could check if this was the actual instrument, before handing it over to her. Shaila was not a little surprised that Giri was being so pleasant and helpful. After all, he had put in a lot of work to find her a new tenant, before another agent had stepped in and closed the deal; he had lost a fat commission.

She had expected Giri to be upset; she even thought she had seen a brief flare of anger in his eyes when she broke the news to him, but he just smiled and dismissed it as something one had to be prepared for in his line of work. The anger, if it ever existed, never surfaced again - not in his words, tone of voice, or in anything he did.

"I must have imagined it," she had consoled herself then, but she still felt guilty about the money that had slipped through his fingers, and it made her interactions with him awkward and uncomfortable. Shaila prayed this meeting would be very brief, and that she would never have to see him again.

Shaila wore a slightly crumpled, parrot green tunic with tiny gold flowers and her hips swayed under an ankle length, vegetable dyed cotton skirt. Long, leaf shaped gold earrings dangled from her ears and chunky beads circled her neck. As she walked to her car, Shaila looked what she was - a confident, 30 something, urban Indian mom.

She had thick dark hair that tumbled down her back in unruly waves. She was curvy, not very tall, with big breasts and hips flaring generously beneath a softly rounded belly; she looked ordinary till she smiled. And then, her eyes crinkled, and dimples appeared tantalisingly at the corners of lush lips that stretched wide in genuine pleasure. You couldn't look at Shaila smile and not smile back.

****

The apartment building was lovely, and at this hour, when the skies were already darkening, the gardens looked almost fairy-tale like with their hidden lights glowing through the foliage. The sound of water rushing through stepped fountains was soothing, and you could hear the laughter and delighted shrieks of children splashing in the pool.

Shaila usually lingered to watch the children and talk to some of the mothers, but this evening, not being in a very chatty mood, she quickly let herself into the building with her security key, and then into her flat. She felt along the wall of the living room for the light switch and flicked it on. Nothing happened. Puzzled, she flipped the switch off, and then on again. Still nothing.

Wondering what was wrong, she walked to the wide bank of windows and looked into the garden - the concealed lights glowed softly. The apartment complex had 24 hour back up power, there was no reason for the lights in her flat not to come on. Shaila picked up the intercom phone and punched the managers' number.

"Alex, this is Shaila from D28. There's no power in the flat..." She listened with a frown as Alex explained apologetically that the electricity connection had been disconnected earlier that day. The bill had not been paid.

"Ma'am, as Giri is the representative for your previous tenant, I called him about it. He said the bill would be paid only on Monday, and that he had already sent you a mail giving you the information."

Angry words welled up in her throat, and Shaila bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to stem them. She didn't answer. "Should I send up an emergency light?" Alex continued, hesitantly.

"Please do that Alex," Shaila replied finally, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice. She was quite upset at the turn of events. Her new tenant was due to occupy the flat on Monday, and there was so much last minute work to be done before that. "And please buzz Giri in when he arrives," she added before replacing the receiver with an angry click. Damn the man Giri. Friendly or not, he just couldn't seem get his act together!

The emergency light was brought up to her in a couple of minutes, and even though it helped bring a little light into the darkness of the large living room, it did nothing for the sticky heat of the evening. Sweat beaded on Shaila's temples and pooled in the hollow of her throat. Angrily swiping at it with the back of her hand, she cursed Giri some more, and flicked open two buttons on her

kurti

. She pressed the fabric against her breasts, trying to mop up the sweat. It darkened with moisture immediately.

Shaila walked around, opening the French doors, and the windows, hoping to entice a cool breeze into the dark, empty spaces. That monotonous action of reaching up, easing the bolts down, and gently pushing the windows open had a calming effect on her, and soon she was smiling as she leaned against the balcony railing and looked down into the garden. How she loved this place, how beautiful it was. She thanked heaven for giving her the courage to take on a huge loan to buy the flat. Even though she would be in debt for at least 10 years, it was worth every bit of hard work that went into paying it off.

***

The first indication Shaila had of another person in the flat was the sound of the front door closing. Startled, she walked back into the dimly lit living room. The soft hair on her arms rose in a frisson of fear when she saw the shadowy outlines of a tall, male figure turn away from the door. Her mind screamed at her to run, to call for help, to do something, but her body refused to respond to the urgent commands, and panic stricken, she remained rooted to the spot.

The man stepped into the weak pool of light - it was Giri. A rush of relief mixed up with embarrassment at her needless fear and inaction washed over Shaila, and brought back with a vengence her annoyance with the man before her. She grit her teeth, trying to calm her frazzled nerves.

Giri smiled and held up a set of the front door keys and security card. "Sorry if I startled you Ma'am," he said, polite as always. "I rang the bell, but nobody answered, so I let myself in. I didn't know you were already here."

Shaila forced herself to smile back, fighting not to let her irritation show. "It's perfectly alright Mr. Giri, I was startled, that's all," she said, her voice just a little snappish. "There's no power. I believe it's been disconnected..."

He interrupted her as he walked towards her. "I'm sorry Ma'am," he apologised again. "The cheque from TRC services is taking a while to come in. It will be done on Monday, I promise."

Giri was standing in front of Shaila now, uncomfortably close, holding out a package for her to take. His eyes flicked down to the invitingly open neckline of her

kurti

. He could see the gentle swell of her breasts, and the tantalising shadows in between. A rush of desire shot through him.

She must have been waiting here in the muggy apartment for a while; even in the rapidly fading light he could make out the sheen of sweat on her skin. His eyes travelled up to her face, and stopped at her lips; slightly open, plump, kissable lips painted a delicious dark pink. Ah, how he wanted to run his tongue between them, and dip into the treasures they promised. He cleared his throat, and forced himself back to the present.

The air was tight with awkwardness and sexual tension. Shaila didn't know what it was, just knew that she was uncomfortable, and had a desperate urge to get out of here as soon as possible. She snatched the package from Giri.

"This is useless now." she said curtly, "How can I check if it's the right control when there's no current. Anyway, it doesn't matter," she dismissed. "I'll let you know if there's any problem."

Giri cringed as he heard his voice forming yet another apology, saw that his placating tone simply increased her annoyance. He felt a warm blush of humiliating wash over him.

"Giri," Shaila snapped. "Sometimes I think you need to get your act together. It's not enough just to be nice. You had one month to pay this bill and still nothing's been done." She held up her hand as he started to talk.

"You know I have my new tenant moving in on Monday, and there's so much to do here before that."

Shaila was surprised at the nastiness dripping in her voice It was almost as if the pent up feelings of guilt, annoyance, fear, and now this terrible awkwardness, had taken control of her mouth and she couldn't stop the ugly words from tumbling out. "Even

that

you messed up." she accused, "dragged it on for so long that I had no choice but to find another agent..."

Giri's face twisted at the mention of the new tenant. Desire for this obnoxious woman, anger at losing his commission and humiliation at the way she was speaking to him fused together in his stomach like a potent, toxic poison. Raw anger flashed across his tight features, but Shaila didn't see it. She had already turned to walk towards the door.

He took one quick step towards Shaila, grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her hard against the wall. She yelped in shock and hurt as the back of her head smacked the hard surface.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Get your hands..." Giri slammed his hand over her mouth.

"Shut up," he snarled, "I've had enough of you giving me orders and expecting me to jump every time you snapped your fingers."

Terrified, Shaila clawed at his hand and kicked out at him. The toe of her slipper connected with his shin, Giri grunted with pain, but didn't let go. Fighting to get loose from her unexpected assailant, she sank her teeth into his palm and bit down hard.

"Argh! Bitch!" he screamed and yanked his hand away, but before Shaila could take advantage of the momentary break, and run, or reach for some kind of help, he slapped her so hard across her face, she fell back against the wall, stunned.

The room seemed to sway before her in a haze of grey. Tears welled up in her fear filled eyes. She cupped her palms against her burning flesh and looked up at the man looming in front of her. Her breasts heaved as she gulped in air. With the top buttons of her

kurti

undone, her hair falling loose about her face, shivering with fright, Shaila looked so vulnerable, and yet so desirable.

For the first time, she saw Giri as a man, and not just her real estate agent. In his early thirties, he was tall, many inches taller than her own 5'2". He was lean and lightly muscled, and obviously stronger than he looked. He was breathing hard, and sucked at his hand where she had bitten him, as if to soothe the pain.

"Leave me alone," she pleaded in a half-choked voice, trying to appeal to his better nature, "you're hurting me."

His hand was a blur as it connected with the other side of her face in a hard slap again. The sharp sound of flesh striking flesh echoed loudly in the empty room, and then, after a long drawn out silence, the sound of a woman sobbing filled it. Shaila slumped hopelessly against the wall. Her legs trembled, and she knew they wouldn't support her.

Bright flashes of light exploded in sharp bursts in front of her eyes, and she shook her head to clear her vision. Her mouth filled with the sharp salty tang of blood. She raised shaking fingers to her lips, and they came away sticky with the redness of blood, and dark lipstick.

"

You

hurt

me,

bitch," she heard him snarl as pressed his hard frame into her soft, quivering body. He cupped her face in his hands, looking at her with hunger and something else that she couldn't quite identify, but frightened her to the core. She felt the growing hardness between his legs against her, and repulsed, struggled to push him away. She twisted her face away from him and shoved against his chest, but, held down forcefully, with the wall behind her, she couldn't do much, except maybe scream for help.

Giri seemed to read her intentions, and even as she opened her mouth, clamped one hand over her the lower portion of her face, and the other around her throat. Pain shot through her lips and the ravaged insides of her cheek. Shaila gasped but with his hand over her nose, she couldn't breathe; her air was supply cut off. Her eyes widened and she moaned behind the press of his flesh. Frantic, she scrabbled at his hands, trying to shift them away from her face, to get a little bit of respite, some room to breathe.

"Shut up." Giri snapped. "One sound, and you're dead. It will be easy enough for me to drag you out of here and dump you in the nearest river. Nobody will even know. Do you want that?"

The words, and the force with which the man spat them out terrified Shaila. This snarling stranger was not the polite and friendly man she had come to know over the last year. She looked at him out of wide and frightened eyes, and shook her head slightly.

He eased up on the pressure and she slid down the wall, coughing, and greedily gulping in life giving air. She was on her knees now, hunched over, one hand on the floor, supporting her weight, and the other at her throat. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook with the effort to keep her sobs silent. With one last, futile attempt to somehow get out of this nightmarish situation, Shaila lunged for her handbag, lying next to Giri's feet. May she could get to her cell phone...

Giri took a quick step forward and kicked the bag out of her reach. He fell to his knees by her side, grabbed her hair, and yanked her head back.

"You snobby little bitch," he barked, if only you had waited half an hour for my call, I could have closed this deal for you. But you had to go to somebody else. You cost me almost 2 lakhs, and you're going to pay for it."

Open mouthed with pain, Shaila could only mewl in protest. She reached back with both her hands, trying to free her hair from his cruel grip. To any observer with a bit of compassion, Shaila looked pitiful- her face was streaked with dark lines of tears, and her eyes were filled with horror, her neck muscles strained as she arched back to try and ease the pain of having her hair savagely pulled back, but to Giri, burning with anger towards the woman whose impatience he believed had cost him a huge commission, and filled with the humiliation of being ignored by her, she was simply an object he could take his fury out on.

He grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back, holding her by the wrists. For a minute he thought about trying them with his belt, but then decided it would take too much time and effort, and god knows what the whore would do in that period.

"Whore?"

That harsh word echoing in his mind shocked him back to the ugly reality of the situation he had plunged into. Where did that word come from? Giri felt a sudden rush of panic shoot through him. He never spoke like that. Hell, he never even thought about a woman like that, and now he was on the floor of a darkened apartment, holding down a crying, struggling woman, thinking about taking her with brutal force, even calling her a whore? How had he even got into this mess!

When he had come up to the flat, he had been angry, yes, but had merely intended to hand over the remote control and keys, and leave. Then she looked at him with her 'touch me not' arrogance, rubbed that bloody new tenant in his face, and started off about inconvenience and incompetence. It was as if a thick curtain of blinding rage had fallen in front of his eyes, and before he had realised it, he had slapped her, had pushed her to the ground and even threatened to kill her!

Giri laughed at himself mirthlessly. No, he was not normally a violent man. But now he was so close to this she-devil he could feel the warmth of her body through her thin

kurti

, and smell the fear rising from her skin. He felt a strange, and very heady, combination of power and sexual excitement course through his veins at the sight of this woman, terrified, trembling before him. She had tormented him in his dreams for more than a year now, as he tossed on his damp sheets, knowing that women like her were not available to working class men like him.

And here she was - he looked at Shaila almost as if for the first time - she was sobbing, arms pulled back tightly, shoulders pushed to the ground, ass high in the air, and hair, loosened from its clip, damp and clinging to the sides of her neck and face, trembling, pleading. He had come this far, and he had her lying on the floor in front of him in a classic fuck me pose, too scared to put up a struggle worth the name. He was damned if he wasn't going to take her, and take her rough, and hard, and quick.

Leaning forward on the sobbing woman, holding her motionless with the force of his weight, he let her hair go and quickly yanked his zipper down. The sound grated harshly in the nearly complete darkness of the flat, and Shaila, moaning with renewed fear, bucked against him and heaved, trying to twist out of his grip. Giri grabbed her hair hard again, and pressed his other hand over her mouth and nose once more.

"Stop it," he hissed, bending close to her ear. "I don't want to hurt you badly, but I will, if you continue this way." He twisted his hand in her hair, and Shaila's head jerked around along with it. She looked back and up at him, eyes wide. "If at any time you try to bite me, or hurt me, you're dead. Do you understand?" Giri said nastily.

She nodded her head, suffocating behind his rough palm, filled with dread at the horror of her situation, desperate to have some air in her lungs. At that moment she would have agreed to anything he asked.

He moved her around to face him, yanked her head back by her hair, so hard that her mouth fell open in a wordless cry. He eased his hard and aching cock out of his trousers and rubbed it against her lips. Pre-cum oozed from the tip; he tasted briny. Shaila gagged and tried to turn her face, but his hand in her hair wouldn't let her move. He roughly shoved himself into her mouth. Shaila gagged again, this time with the force of his action, and her mouth closed involuntarily over him.

"Don't you dare, bitch.' he snapped, thinking she was going to bite him, and pushed himself inside her completely till he felt himself bumping against the back of her throat; her face was pressed close against his groin. Shaila closed her eyes as if to escape this nightmare, and silent tears fell down her cheeks. She grabbed onto the waistband of his trousers, trying to get her balance, not knowing that she looked like an eager lover, desperate to get more of her man's cock into her hungry mouth. He held her as she was for a minute, till he felt her struggle and twist in his arms as she tried to come up for air.