Emilie lay the sponge down and began to touch her already erect nipples with the hand that had been holding the sponge. Meanwhile, her other hand encountered her sex where her clitoris had already emerged from its protective sheath. The sound of the running water suppressed any soft moans that she uttered. Emilie shut her eyes; she knew she was close… Then the door to the tiny bathroom opened and a voice said, “Enjoying yourself, my love?”
Startled, Emilie opened her eyes to see Denis standing there in front of her, still in the suit he usually wore to his job at the publishing firm. “Showering so early in the day?” he asked.
Thinking quickly, Emilie replied, “I had a bad day at work. I thought a hot shower might relax me.”
Denis reached into the shower, took Emilie by the hand and pulling her out of the still running water and said, “Oh yes. A hot shower and a little masturbation do wonders to relax a girl.” Then he turned off the water and began patting Emilie dry with a towel that had been hanging on the rack by the shower. Emilie, a little embarrassed to be caught surreptitiously masturbating, did not protest as he ran the towel over her body. Nor did she speak.
Then Denis took her by the hand and pulled her into the small living area of the loft. Emilie protested, “Denis, I am naked, and my hair is still wet. Just what are you doing?”
He pushed her onto the single easy chair in the room and said, “Lean back. Spread your legs and hang one over the arm of the chair.” Emilie noticed a strange look in Denis’ face, but did as he said. Then he went to the chair, and with Emilie in it with one leg hanging over the arm, moved the chair so that it was directly in front of the full-length mirror where both checked themselves before going to work in the mornings. Emilie saw herself in the mirror – fully open. Denis said, “Now! Finish what you had started in the shower.”
Emilie looked at him and said, “Whatever do you mean?” “What I mean is for you to masturbate. And watch yourself while you do.” Saying that Denis stepped behind her and squatted down so that his head was on the same level as hers. He leaned close and in a near whisper said, “Play with yourself I want you to watch yourself as you do, and I want to see the expression on your face when you come.”
Emilie stroked herself half-heartedly and moments later, looked up and said, “I’m not sure I will be able to come.”
“Of course, you can. Fantasize. Think about fucking me. Or think about fucking Thierry Henry. Or whoever.” Then he reached his hands down and caressed her nipples. “Please do it. Do it for me.” Emilie began anew. This time with more success. She thought to herself, “Okay, my darling. I’ll fantasize. But not about you or Thierry Henry, but about Thierry my mechanic. My dirty Arab mechanic who swabbed axel grease in my ass before taking me there.” Her clitoris emerged again; a soft moan escaped Emilie’s lips. Denis squeezed her nipples harder and whispered, “Look at yourself. God, how I love you.”
And as he did this, Denis fantasized about Emilie, naked writhing under another man at Roissy.
Thierry said to Emilie, “Here are the keys to one of the other D2CV’s. Take it back to the rental agency and leave the Renault with the busted hose. Tell that asshole boss of yours that I’ll have it fixed by tomorrow.” Then without another word, he pulled up his coveralls and went back to work while Emilie stood there with a shocked look on her face.
After a moment Emilie composed herself. She pulled up her own pants, got into the D2CV and drove away. As she drove the short distance back to the agency, she thought to herself, “My God! What just happened? I let that mechanic tear off my panties, swab me with axel grease and then fuck me in the ass. And I not only loved it, I actually asked him to do it. What a slut I am!” Then a moment later, reality set in. “Oh my God? I have no panties. I am completely naked beneath my pants. What if what he has left in me begins to seep out while I am at work. What if I leak? I still have almost three more hours on my shift and then I have to take the Metro back to our loft in the city center.”
Emilie fretted about this before remembering that she had left a jacket by her desk at work. When she got back to the office, she quickly parked the ancient Citroen and scurried to her desk. There she picked up the jacket off the back of her chair. She looked at Michelle and said, “Be back in a jif,” and dashed to the restroom. As she did, the manager lurked from his office, Emilie went by him and said, “Thierry says he will have the Renault fixed by morning, now excuse me.” The manager looked at Michelle as Emilie closed the bathroom door and said, “What’s up with her?” Michelle answered, “Perhaps, it is her time of the month.”
++++++++++++++++++++++
The rest of the day, Emilie wore her jacket tied around her waist – just in case. The same on the Metro and up the stairs to the loft she shared with Denis. Once inside the loft, she ran a shower. As the water was heating up, she undressed. There was only a small spot of axel grease on the rear seam of her pants. Standing there naked, Emilie thought to herself, “Good. Nothing but a small spot. The cleaners will be able to take care of that.” She then put the soiled pants in the dirty clothes pile and stepped into the hot shower. As the water ran over her, Emilie used a soapy sponge to clean herself, thinking, “Thierry and Denis are so different. Both care about me in their own way. I know Denis loves me even if he has this fantasy of seeing me with other men. As a matter of fact, I have fantasies of other men.” Then her thoughts turned to Thierry, “Now he certainly thinks about me in a different way. I am never sure whether or not he loves me. Probably not. But I do know he loves to fuck me. And the sex is always great with him. It’s not always that way with Denis, although Denis does usually maker sure I come. One way or another. I don’t think Thierry cares one way or another if I reach orgasm. Today, he sure didn’t. I let him fuck me in the ass, and once he came, it was over. He didn’t even play with me afterwards. Just pulled out, stepped back and lit a cigarette.” Emilie continued to sponge herself under the hot water, working down from her breasts to her flat belly and lower. “No. Thierry didn’t make me come. I wonder if the men at that Roissy place that Denis talks about would make me come after they fucked me.”
Emilie turned in the shower. Letting the hot water splash on her blonde streaked hair and well-muscled back. She ran the soapy sponge across her breasts and noticed that her nipples were erect. Her other hand slid down her flat belly to her sex. She thought to herself, as her fingers encountered her waiting slit, “Perhaps I’ll ask Denis to tell me more about this Roissy place.”
The remainder of the week, Emilie’s mind wandered at work. If she didn’t concentrate on the task at hand. Her thoughts wandered to what might await her when she had dinner with Monsieur Waingro-Valmount. She wondered what type of man he might be. Certainly wealthy. Robert had told Denis as much. And powerful. Robert had also mentioned that he owned a publishing company and that he was in the process of expanding its operation into Spain. Bit Emilie wondered about his physical characteristics. Was this Monsieur Waingro-Valmount young or old? Handsome or ugly? And was he well endowed? She thought Denis to be lacking a bit in that area while Thierry was perhaps overly so.
Emilie almost blushed at the last thought and then remembered that on that very morning, she had surreptitiously gone into the small office restroom and masturbated to the memory of the German man who earlier in the week had rented the big BMW. She thought to herself, “ I bet he was – as Goldilocks said about the porridge - just so. And perhaps Monsieur Waingro-Valmount and his associates at this Roissy place are the same.”
×××
It was finally quitting time on Friday. Emilie shut her computer off and headed out the door. As she did so, her friend Michelle said, “ Have a nice weekend. Do something new and unusual.”
Emilie said thanks and thought to herself, “It will certainly be unusual. Auditioning for a role of …What? Not an adulteress. After all, Denis and I are just lovers at present. He hasn’t proposed. So just what am I auditioning for? Perhaps the role of a slut?”
Emilie got off the Metro and made her way to the loft she shared with Denis. He was already there with an excited look on his face. He said,” Make yourself even more beautiful. I want to watch and then I’ll help you choose an appropriate outfit.“
Emilie rolled her eyes and began redoing her hair and makeup. Once finished, she turned to Denis. “Do I pass inspection?”
Denis looked at her. She usually wore her blonde streaked hair in a loose ponytail, but had put it up for tonight. She chose a light pink lipstick and smoky eye shadow that emphasized her hazel eyes. Eyes that would flash almost yellow in the throes of passion.
Denis said, “You look outstanding. Now let’s choose an outfit.”
As Emilie docilly followed the valet and the other two slave girls, her mind raced. She had agreed to come to Roissy at the behest of her lover Denis who said he wanted to see Emilie having sex with other men. As Emilie had been having a discrete affair with Theirry, the mechanic for the car rental company where she worked and had been having sexual fantasies about some of the customers, she agreed. Especially after she had been introduced to Gaspar Waingro-Valmont, a wealthy businessman whom she later learned was a Master at Roissy. She, Denis, and Denis’ friend Robert, who was a photographer, had met with Gaspar and worked out the details. Emilie had two weeks’ vacation at the rental car office coming and would be brought to Roissy. There she could live out Denis’ fantasy (and her own).
Now Emilie looked back on her first night at Roissy and realized she had no idea what she was getting into. She had expected a somewhat romantic tryst or trysts with rich, powerful, and relatively handsome men like Gaspar. Perhaps wine and bedding in a luxurious hotel-like room and gentle, slow love making. But instead, it had been more like a gang rape. Emilie wasn’t sure how many men had taken her as she was blindfolded, but thought it was at least four. She thought, “True I did have at least two great orgasms, but then one of them pushed his member into my rear. Fucked in the ass, like a common whore! I’ll be sore for a week. And then I was tied to a post and flogged. Neither Denis, nor Gaspar ever said anything about that!”
And afterwards, she had been taken to a solitary room where she was chained to some sort of bed. Then Denis had come in and sat on the bed beside her. “I remember Denis sitting down and telling me that he was very proud of me. That’s when I unloaded on him! I said, ‘Denis, you son of a bitch! Just what in the hell have you talked me into? I agreed to come here to have sex with other men so you could watch, but I never, NEVER agreed to what happened to me tonight! No, unchain me and get me the hell out of here!’ But Denis had calmly said, ‘Darling, I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to. I don’t have the keys to the chain, plus I am afraid even if we did try to leave, Gaspar or another of the Masters here would have us stopped. Remember you told him that you would stay for at least a week. I’m sure tonight was the worst of it. Maybe from here on out, you’ll be treated better. Just remember to do what they say and obey the rules.’ And then he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and said, ‘And you seemed to enjoy the sex. I am sure I saw you have at least two orgasms. And also remember I love you very much.’ Then someone, I’m not sure who, knocked on the door of my little room and said that Denis should leave me alone, so I could get some rest. Then I fell into a deep sleep.
“And this morning, I was awakened and taken down by some guy in a butler’s suit to some sort of breakfast area where there were four naked women sitting at a table drinking coffee and some older guy in a similar suit talking to them. He told me that I was to accompany them to work in the library. That’s when I forgot the rule of silence that one of the Masters had told me about the previous night. I wasn’t supposed to speak unless spoken to. After last night, I certainly didn’t want to break any rules and get whipped again. Anyway, I followed the man - he said he was a valet, and his name was Rupert – as he took two of the naked women to get dressed. He told me their names were Jeanne and Claudia. As they walked, I noticed that the one called Claudia was wearing what looked like a chastity belt and the other one had a heavy looking medallion hanging from a short chain that pierced her labia. Rupert must have noticed the shocked look on my face because he told me that Claudia had been caught masturbating and had been whipped and now had to wear the chastity belt for two weeks as additional punishment. Emilie noticed she also had marks on her rear, no doubt from a more recent flogging. As for the other, shorter girl, he said Jeanne was the property of the Waingro-Valmont family, specifically the younger one called Louis and that she had agreed to having her labia pierced so that she could wear a medallion proclaiming her as their property. Then I watched as they put on dresses similar to the one that I’m wearing.”
As Emilie was mulling her thought, the foursome encountered a tall valet in the hallway outside a closed door. Rupert halted and spoke, “James, I take it you are the valet on duty in the library?” The valet, whose names was evidently James answered, “Yes. Until six pm, then Charles takes over.” As the two valets were talking, Claudia leaned over and whispered to Emilie. “Now be sure not to talk and keep your eyes downcast and follow all the rules. That’s James. He is a stickler for rules, unlike Pierre. And he can be very cruel.”
Suddenly James turned, looked at Claudia, and shouted, “I heard you talking, wretched whore! You know the rules! No talking unless you are called on. Now you’ll be punished!” Saying this, he pulled the riding crop he carried from his belt and grabbed Claudia by the wrist.
Claudia immediately dropped to her knees in front of James and said, “Oh, please don’t whip me. I beg of you. I was flogged by a Master last night and still have the marks to prove it.” Hearing this James pulled up the rear of Claudia’s dress to reveal a fresh set of stripes across her buttocks. He said, “But you broke the rules. You must be whipped again.” With tears already forming in her eyes, Claudia begged again, “Please no! Don’t, I beg of you!” And as she spoke, she began unbuttoning James’ trousers. “Don’t flog me! I’ll make it up to you! Please!” And she reached in and took James’ member, already stiffening, in her hands and brought it towards her mouth. Saying, “I’ll be good. I promise I’ll make you happy. I promise!” And her mouth engulfed him.
Rupert, pushing Jeanne, and Emilie away said, “Just bring her to the library when you are through. I’ll go ahead and take these two there. Then the three soon entered what really did look like a library. There were shelves and shelves of books, tables with newspapers and a fireplace against one wall. Keeping her eyes downcast as she had been told the previous night, Emilie discretely glanced about the room. There were several easy chairs and a couch. An old fat man was sitting in one of the chairs. He looked a little drunk. And two men standing in front of the fire with their backs turned. It was Gaspar and the man who had driven Emilie to Roissy the previous day.
The six slaves from the morning had been given their assignments, and now garbed in their Roissy gowns - gowns that were cut tight in the waist but flared at the hips and slit so that the gown might be rolled up in front or back to reveal a slave’s rear or sex, while the corset -like top was cupped and stopped just below the breasts so that the breasts were pushed forward and visible. Additionally, a type of transparent veil could be used to cover yet reveal the breasts. Now the six were escorted to their assigned duties for the day. Marloes and Therese and Zoe, recently released from the Roissy dungeon and deemed fully trained by her Master Alex followed old Pierre to the restaurant and dining area, while Rupert, another valet, led Jeanne, Emilie, and Claudia, who still was wearing the chastity belt to the waiting area and library.
The restaurant and bar area of Roissy was located in the ‘public’ area of Roissy on the left side of the entrance to the chateau. There anyone – Master or guest – might have a drink or eat a meal. Interestingly enough, the cuisine served at Roissy was excellent: locally grown vegetables. Beef or lamb from local herds, duck or chicken dishes or seafood which was trucked in from Honfleur once a week. All prepared by a world-renowned chef who was not only paid handsomely, but also allowed the slave of his choice as if he, too, were a Master. Of course, the wait staff was composed of the women who were slaves of the Chateau.
As Pierre turned over the three to the Maitre ’d who was standing near the Vietnamese girls Quy and Binh, he said, “Here are the other three assigned to you today. Now, my shift is over and I’m off to home where my fat wife and ugly children await.” The Maitre ‘d, whose name was Phillip, looked over his assigned staff and said, “You all look nice today, a veritable rainbow of beauties waiting to serve. And ‘ladies,’ please remember to keep the veil over your breasts when serving. No nipples dragging in the salad dressing.” Then, “Oh, it’s eleven and here comes our first customers for an early lunch.”
Zoe recalled the first time Axel had brought her to Roissy. Surprisingly, it was not to be trained. Instead, at that time she and Axel had just become loves after being introduced by a mutual friend. Zoe had just completed her schooling and was awed by the several years older Axel. The same mutual friend who had introduced them had told Zoe that Axel came from a very wealthy family. While Zoe’s parents were staunchly bourgeois. Besides being wealthy, Axel was handsome in a chiselled sort of way. Everyone said they made a nice couple. Zoe remembered, “Axel said he wanted to take me to a fancy restaurant where the food was fabulous. Of course, I said yes. We went for lunch. It was a fairly long drive from Paris, but we went through the countryside in his BMW. And then we were here. The first thing I noticed was that the wait staff were all beautiful women in fancy dresses resembling 18th century styles I had seen in school textbooks. The two who waited on our table seemed to fawn over Axel as if they knew him well but were cold and aloof to me. Now I understand why. I was at that time a free woman and they were slaves as I am now.”
Zoe’s reverie was broken by Therese’s voice, “Come on. We need to take their order.” And Zoe followed her to a table where a handsome man and pretty woman, who looked a bit uncomfortable were seated.
After Michael had led Collette away, the remaining four women – Marloes, Jeanne, Therese and Claudia – went back to their coffee. Shortly afterwards, old Pierre said, “Drink up ladies, it’s time for you to earn your keep. And remember to follow the rules, so you’re not flogged today. Understand?” Four voices said simultaneously, “Yes, Daddy Pierre.” Followed by small giggles, as the four truly liked Pierre and enjoyed bantering with him when they could.
Pierre began reading the day’s assignments, “Therese and Marloes. You will join the two Vietnamese girls, Quy and Binh, in the dining room. All four of you are servers today.” Then he turned to Claudia and Jeanne. “You two will be in the waiting area and library.” Then, “Everyone got it?” Again, four voices in unison, “Yes, Daddy Pierre.”
This time even Pierre smiled, dropping his usual dour expression. He said in mocking exasperation, “Like herding cats.” Then from behind came a voice, “Well old fellow, you are supervising the pussy.” Pierre turned quickly and saw Rupert another valet approaching with two more women in tow. Rupert had a good relationship with Pierre, the senior valet at Roissy and often joked with him. Pierre had trained Rupert when he first came to Roissy and like Pierre- and unlike Michael and James - saw no need to be overly cruel to the slaves unless they disobeyed.
The women following Rupert were Zoe, just released from the dungeon and Emilie, who was on her second day – first morning – at Roissy. Pointing to the shorter girl with the honey-colored hair, Rupert said, “This one is Zoe. You may remember her from her previous short stint here a year or so ago. Then her Master had to move to Indonesia to manage the family’s rubber plantation, so he pulled her out. About a month ago, he brought her back to complete her training. Now, her Master decided that her training time in the dungeon was completed, and she should be put in the general population.”
Pierre nodded as Rupert continued, “And this other one is Emilie. I’m not really sure about her story, but Gaspar told me a while ago to bring her to you for assignment.”
Hearing this, Emilie who looked like she might be in shock, started to speak, but decided better and remained silent. She remembered, “Last night, after those men finally finished with me, I was taken to a small bedroom. I guess I was still stunned at having been taken so roughly and then whipped. I was laid on a hard bed and my hands were chained to the headboard. Then Denis came in and sat beside me on the bed…”
Emilie’s thoughts were interrupted by Pierre who said, “They both look a little worse for wear this morning. Are you sure they should be put to work already?”
Rupert chuckled and said, “Pierre, I know you are getting old and have become rather fond of these bitches, but if a Master says they should be put to work, I don’t think we should even consider otherwise.”
Pierre considered for a moment what the younger valet had said, then, “You’re right. Not our decision.” Then looking at the two women, “Okay. Zoe, you go with Therese and Marloes to work in the restaurant area. And you, new girl, go with Claudia and Jeanne to the library.”
Hearing this, Emilie, who still had a bewildered look on her face, said, “Library?”
Hearing this, Jeanne took her by the upper arm and said, “Oh, don’t worry; it’s easy work. Mostly you just tend the fire and hand newspapers or books to the Masters who want to read them. Perhaps fetch drinks.” And Claudia added, “And mainly look available and ready for use.”
Denis and Emile were lovers. They shared a loft near the Ile de la Cite. Denis worked at a publishing firm, while Emile was a clerk at a rental car agency near the airport. One morning after the New Year, Denis awoke from a vivid dream. He looked at the digital clock on the bedside table. It read 5:45 am. Then he rolled Emile over in the large bed which they shared. She murmured slightly, “I have to go to work today. My shift begins at 7:30.” As Denis slid between her legs and pushed her knees apart, he said, “I know. So, you must come quickly.” Then, spreading her lower lips slightly, he brought his mouth to her waiting sex.
Denis’ tongue slid along the entrance to Emile’s vagina bringing forth a soft moan., before moving to inflame her clitoris. Emile felt a finger – one, then two invade her and move in and out. She moaned again. Denis worked his tongue in small circles around Emile’s clitoris which had emerged from its protective sheath. As his fingers thrust in and out of her vagina, Emile felt a pressure on her anus. Denis’ finger slid it; Emile was effectively skewered by his fingers. She felt an involuntary ripple in her lower stomach as her hips began to move. Soon afterward, her entire body convulsed, and a loud moan came from her mouth followed by, “Je t’aime! Je t’aime! Je t’aime!”
His fingers still impaling Emile, Denis looked over at the clock. It read 5:53 am. Propping himself up on his elbows, still between Emile’s knees, he looked at his lover and said, “Do you really, Emile? Do you really love me?”
She responded, “Yes, of course. I adore you. I worship you. I would do anything for you.”
“Anything?”
“Of course. Anything. Roll over now and I’ll prove it.” She reached down and pushed on Denis’ shoulder in an effort to roll him over.” She felt his fingers slip out of her.
Denis rolled over as Emile’ hand ran down his chest and stomach. He watched her head, her hair falling about her face as her hand sought out his already erect member. He said, “I might ask for something other than a quick morning blow job from you to prove your devotion to me.” Emile turned her face to him grinned and said, “Well go ahead and tell me while I do you. I can multitask, you know.”
As Emile’s mouth encircled Denis’ member, he stroked her long, straight, blonde hair and said, “I had lunch with my friend Robert the other day and he told me about a most interesting place. A place where women…”
*******************************
Now it was Emile’s time to look at the clock. It read 6:14. She said, “Very interesting, this place. What is it called again? I would like to hear more, but I must hurry and get ready and catch the Metro.
Denis did not have to go in until 9 am, so he remained in bed. “It is called Roissy. Would you be willing to go there?” said Denis as Emile got out of bed and went to the dresser where she kept her clothes. “Would you go for me?”
“Roissy? Like the airport?” Emile slipped into her panties – the black thong that Denis had bought her for Christmas- and then the matching black bra. She said, “Would you like to see me with other men? Wouldn’t you be jealous?” It was a statement as much as a question.
Denis replied, “If you were doing it to prove your love to me, I think I should rather enjoy seeing you with another man. Besides you have told me that you fantasize about other men.”
By now Emile slapped on lipstick – a pale pink shade, and some eyeliner. Then she had gone into the tiny bathroom of the lost – really just a partition that had been added. It had a small shower just big enough to stand in, a single sink with a mirror above and toilet. As she took her toothbrush from the glass on the sink’s edge, she looked at herself in the mirror. Pleased with what she saw, she pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet. As she emptied her bladder, she considered what Denis had told her. It was true she fantasized about other men. She remembered one night – she had drunk nearly a bottle of wine – Denis asked her to masturbate in front of him. It was something she normally would not have done, but with her inhibitions loosened by the wine, she agreed. Denis had watched her intently and he had said, “Tell me one of your fantasies.” Nearing orgasm, she had said, “I fantasize about fucking Thierry Henry.”
Emile heard Denis’ voice from the other room. “Well, what do you think? Are you willing to go to Roissy?”
The unknown man in the three-piece suit secured a blindfold around Emilie’s eyes and then had her lean forward so that her could tie her hands behind her back. Emilie felt far more vulnerable and afraid than before. “I cannot see a thing with this blindfold. Blessed darkness, I guess. But at least, I won’t see the chauffer staring at my tits hanging out from my dress,” she thought.
Then Emilie felt her head being turned to the left and her face being lifted up. Then she felt the man’s lips on hers. She felt her jaw being pulled down so that her mouth was open. Then his tongue insistently probing her. He kissed her deeply, so deeply that it took her breath away, and she felt her loins melting. His hand, still sheathed in the soft kid gloves was on her inner thigh. She heard him say, “Spread your legs a little more.” The gloved hand ran up her thigh to her waiting sex. “Good, you are already wet,” he said as he caressed the outer lips of her sex before plunging a finger into her. Emilie gave out a soft gasp as the finger probed more. Then she felt the soft leather caress her clitoris which had already emerged from its protective covering. A mouth, gently alternating between sucking and soft bites was on her nipple. Emilie uttered a soft moan. Images of the man and others – Denis, Gaspar, Theirry, even Fritz Kubel flashed in her mind’s eye. She knew she was close to orgasm. And then… Suddenly the man withdrew, but still held Emilie’s knees apart. He said,
“You are easy. Almost too easy. Now just sit there and stew. We will be at Roissy shortly.”
And Emilie thought, “Oh God! I was so close! This is torture.”
+++
And in the panel van carrying Robert and Denis – one of the men in the front, the driver, perhaps- said, “We are here. We’ve taken a more direct route. Your girlfriend was driven here the long way. Perhaps to give her time to contemplate what is going to happen to her.”
Denis heard another voice say, “Or perhaps to give her time to get acquainted with our associate. Either way, you may now remove your blind folds and look to the right at the large BMW.”
Dusk was approaching, but there was still enough ambient light to see the car. As Robert and Denis watched, a man in a three-piece suit emerged from the back seat of the BMW. He was joined by a man dressed in a chauffer’s uniform. They watched as they assisted a woman – a slender woman, blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back – from the car. Denis instantly recognized Emilie and noticed that the front of her dress was unbuttoned, and her breasts were visible in the evening light. He and Robert watched as the two men from the BMW guided Emilie across a stone bridge to a large chateau. In the fading light, they saw a door open and watched as Emilie was guided in.
From the front seat of the van one of the men said, “It’ll take a while to fully prepare her. Let’s go inside and have something to drink while we wait for the festivities to begin.”
An hour after Emilie had been picked up at the entrance to the small park near the Orsay Museum, a panel van pulled up beside the building where Robert the photographer lived. He and Denis, his friend and Emilie’s lover were standing outside. There were two well dressed men in the front of the van. The one closest, leaned out and said, “Monsieur Waingro-Valmont sent us. Get in back.” They did so. A short time later, the same man the two blindfolds, the type some people use as sleeping aids in the backseat. He said, “You know the drill. Put the blindfolds on, so you cannot see where we are going.”
Once Robert and Denis had done so, the van pulled away. And from an upstairs window, Marie, Robert’s favorite prostitute watched. As she lost sight of the van, she said out loud, “Robert, Robert, Robert. What on earth have you gotten yourself and your friend into this time?”
They rode in silence for several minutes. Emilie stared straight ahead for the most part; however, she noticed the man driving adjust the rear-view mirror of the large BMW so that he could see her image in the mirror. Emilie thought to herself, he’s looking at me. At my breasts, pulled free of my dress.” Then the man next to her, the man in the three-piece suit, the man who did not give Emilie his name, but instead told her to only address him as Sir, spoke. He said, “In a bit I am going to blindfold you and tie your hands behind your back, but first I am going to ask you several questions. Do you understand?”
Emilie answered meekly, “Yes.”
“Yes what?” he said gruffly.
“Yes, Sir,” she answered.
“Good. Now, in the last week have you had sex?”
Emilie hesitated, then said, “No, not really.” And to herself, she thought, “Here I am being quizzed about my sex life by a total stranger.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I went down on Denis, but that was all. And I masturbated for him most days.”
“So, you masturbated?”
“Yes. But I didn’t come. Denis said that Gaspar said I should masturbate every day, but not to orgasm. You know, just edge, but no coming.”
“And how did that make you feel?” asked the man. Emilie hesitated again. The man said, “Answer me.”
“Like they say, on edge. Irritable. Unfulfilled. Frustrated.”
“That’s good. Now I am going to put on the blindfold. You cannot see where we are going. And I am going to tie your hands behind your back. Understand?”
Emilie felt as if she had crossed some sort of forbidden threshold the moment she reached over and kissed Gaspar on the mouth, and it startled her. She pulled back, not only her head, but also her hand from his crotch. “Forgive me!” she uttered.
Gaspar pulled the Porsche over to the side of the street. He looked into Emilie’s eyes and said, “Forgive you for what? For being human? After all, my dear girl, wanting pleasure is as natural as breathing.”
“But you must think I am some sort of nymphomaniac. “Emile paused, then continued, “Or a world class slut.”
Gaspar chuckled and said, “And if you were, would that be a bad thing? As I said, all human beings seek pleasure. And sexual pleasure is the greatest pleasure of all.” Then Gaspar took Emilie’s head in his hands and kissed her. Kissed her so deeply that she felt her own sex melting. And with one hand he took her hand and placed it on the bulge in his trousers. He pulled away from Emilie’s face and said, “You see. You are a most desirable young woman, and I desire you. But now we must go on to my apartment and meet with Denis and Robert to work out the details of your journey to Roissy.” Then he put the Porsche back into gear and pulled out into the street.
+++++
Twenty minutes later, the old Peugeot pulled up in front of the address Gaspar had given to Robert. Gaspar’s Porsche was already parked by the curb. Denis, clearly irritated, said, “Well, finally we are here. I think you should have ridden with that Gaspar fellow and Emilie rode with me. After all, she is my lover.” He emphasized the word ‘my.’
Robert, also frustrated, not only with traffic, but also his friend’s attitude, responded, “But this car belongs to my lover, not you. Besides, you’ve said several times that you want to watch Emilie have sex with other men. And she had confessed to a desire to have sex with rich, powerful men. This is no time for you to get all possessive and controlling.”
Denis sniffed, “Well, this apartment doesn’t look like the home of a rich, powerful man.”
Robert replied, as he rang the buzzer, “Gaspar Waingro-Valmont owns a publishing firm, the largest one in France. He is one of the richest and most powerful men in Paris. This is only his city apartment. He has an estate just outside Paris. Trust me, he is both wealthy and powerful.”
The door opened. Gaspar waved Denis and Robert inside. Denis noticed Emilie standing to the side, holding a drink in her hand. Her hair looked disheveled, and her lipstick was slightly smeared. Gaspar said, “Do come in. Would you like a drink? Emilie liked her martinis at Le Cinq so much she asked for another one.”
Gaspar escorted Emilie from the private dining area to the front of the restaurant with Robert and Denis close behind. Once out front, Gaspar waved to the parking valet and said, “Please bring my car around. It’s the red Porsche 911. Also bring my associate’s car.” Then turning to Robert, “Robert, what are you driving?”
Robert replied, “It’s the four door Peugeot sedan. It’s sort of gray in color.” Emilie smiled and added, “The one with the loud muffler.”
Hearing this, Gaspar chuckled and said, “Although I am a Frenchman through and through, I much prefer German autos.” When the valets arrived with both vehicles, Gaspar said, “Emilie will ride with me. Follow us.” Then he paused, cast a disapproving eye at the Peugeot and said, “If you can. If not here is my address.” He handed a slip of paper with the address to Robert and watched as the valet helped Emilie into the two seat sports car.
Once underway, Gaspar reached his right hand over and placed it on top of Emilie’s thigh. She did not flinch or protest. He said, “My dear, don’t be at all embarrassed. Everyone has sexual fantasies and one of the most common is to have sex with someone other than your normal partner. And as for Denis to want to watch is also quite common. After all, who wouldn’t want to watch a beautiful woman – and make no mistake, you are truly beautiful- receiving pleasure?” Saying this, Gaspar slid his hand over to the inside of Emilie’s knee and ran his hand upwards, pulling the hem of her dress higher. This time he felt Emilie flinch and stiffen a bit. So, he stopped, but did not remove his hand. Instead he changed the subject. “Robert told me that you work in the rental car business. Do you often rent cars like mine?”
Emilie, trying to regain her composure, said, “Occasionally. Mostly to German tourists.”
“That is understandable. And I’m sure renting a car like this is rather expensive. Yes?”
“Yes,” replied Emilie.
“And have you ever had fantasies about these men? These obviously rich men?” As he said this, his hand inched higher.
“Dear God! He has read my mind,” thought Emilie as thoughts of Fritz Kubel ran through her mind. She couldn’t answer.
“Answer me, please,” said Gaspar with a slight edge in his voice.
Emilie, feeling all her defenses were conquered said finally, “Yes. I have fantasies of sex with rich, powerful men like the men who rent Porsches.” Then turning her face to Gaspar, “And men who own them.” She paused. Placed her own hand in Gaspar’s lap and added, “Like you.” Then she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.
And three blocks away in an old Peugeot, Denis said to his friend Robert, “It’s a good thing Gaspar gave you his address. I knew this heap of yours couldn’t keep up with the Porsche.”
Once Emilie said, “Yes, it is also my fantasy to have sex with other men besides Denis, Gaspar said, “Good! It is decided then. Let’s finish our meal and adjourn to my apartment where we can work out the details.“ Hearing that Robert and Denis had very different reactions. Denis felt as if his fantasies of seeing Emilie receiving pleasure from other men were vindicated, but Robert felt as if he had just heard a condemned prisoner consent to their execution. Robert looked at Emilie’s face. He thought he had seen that look before – when a sinner confesses to the priest their sins and receives what? Not redemption, but acceptance that we all sin – at least in our minds? Nevertheless, he felt a pang of pity for Emilie.
The waiter appeared with the meals for the foursome. Denis wolfed down the steak that he had ordered, all the time looking at Emilie with an expression of complete happiness. As Emilie ate the duck that Gaspar had ordered for her, the effects of the martinis began to wane. She thought to herself, “What have I done? I admitted to three men, two of whom I do not really know that I have fantasies of having sex with other men! They must think I am a complete slut! And Denis told them that it was also one of his fantasies! My Love wants to see me fuck other men! He says it turns him on! What if he knew about Thierry? Would he think it so erotic if he knew that I had fucked that Arab in his shop, him all sweaty, smelling of onions and covered in grease? No! I doubt it! Denis has a different vision.” And then as she ate her meal, Emilie reconsidered. “But Gaspar seems worldly and wealthy. And he is undeniably handsome. He and men like that German fellow that rented the large BMW are the men in my fantasies. And probably in Denis’ also. Perhaps I was just being truthful.”
Once the meal concluded, Gaspar said, “Let’s go to may apartment. We can have after dinner drinks and work out the details of Emilie’s entrance to Roissy.” Then turning to Robert, “Emilie will accompany me in my car. You and Denis may follow in yours. That is suitable, yes?”
Robert looked at Denis who looked nonplussed, but finally said, “Okay.”
Fritz Kubel led Emilie into his room in the hotel wing of Roissy Chateau. She surreptitiously looked around and noted that it resembled an upscale room in the finest of Parisian hotels. Large mirrors facing the bed, which itself was quite large – what the Americans might refer to as a ‘King Sized Bed.’ There was a dresser and wardrobe, as well as two easy chairs. “It is twice as large as the loft, I share with Denis,” thought Emilie. Kubel broke the silence saying, “May I undress you? I want to see you naked again.” Emilie did not speak but stood quietly as Kubel unhooked the stays along the side of the corset-like top of Emilie’s dress. Due to the weight of the rolled up bottom skirts, it fell in a heap on the floor, puddling around Emilie. Kubel took her hand as she stepped out of the ’puddle.’ He said, “I must say, I like the leather collar around your neck and the bracelets on your wrists. Knowing that you are wearing them so that you might be tied up is truly appealing to me. But I think it will not be necessary to bind you tonight, will it?” And he guided Emilie to the bed.
In a moment, Kubel himself was undressed. He joined Emilie on the bed and took he in his arms. He said, “Seriously, why are you here? When we met when I was renting a car, I noticed how attractive you were, but I had no idea! Yesterday, Gaspar invited me to participate in what he called a ‘ritual initiation’ for a new girl. But I had no idea it would be you! Why are you here?”
As Kubel said this, he was kissing Emilie’s neck, before moving down to her breasts and running his hand down her flat belly towards her sex. Emilie knew she really had no choice and was getting aroused herself, so she decided to tell Kubel. “You see, my lover Denis said he wanted to see me having sex with other men. He said it was one of his fantasies. Somehow through a mutual friend, a photographer named Robert, he met Gaspar. Then we all met. I agreed to come here. I had vacation time coming - I think I saw you on my last day of work. I guess I was thinking of it as some sort of a lark. Anyway, I met a man – the man you and Gaspar were talking to in the library. He brought me here. Two other women ‘prepared’ me. Then I was led into the library. There were several men wearing masks. You were one…”
Emilie stopped talking as Kubel’s face was now at her sex. He said, “Aah. I love he musky odor of a woman in heat. Please continue your story. “Then she felt his mouth on her waiting and wet sex. Kubel gently spread her nether lips and ran his tongue around Emilie’s clitoris which had already emerged from its protective sheath. Emilie let out a soft moan, as Kubel took a breath and said, “Continue.”
“There in the library the men used me. I now know you were one of them. I recognized you when I saw you in the library earlier today and realized it was your voice last night behind one of the masks.”
“You seemed receptive last night. I do not recall you struggling much,” said Kubel as one of his fingers pushed lightly on Emilie’s rectum. Then his tongue went back to tease her clitoris. Emilie began to feel a familiar sensation deep within her. She knew she was vanquished.She could not deny it.
“No. I didn’t really struggle. At least while I was being taken. But the flogging. No! That I did not like! Denis, nor Gaspar told me I would be flogged. But the sex. In truth I enjoyed the sex.” Then Emilie ceased speaking as Kubel’s tongue retreated and instead he delivered a sucking bite on her clitoris as his finger gently entered her rear. Instead of talking, Emilie’s body gave way to a crushing orgasm.
Old Cyril dozed off in the easy chair. Gaspar, Eric and Fritz Kubel were talking at a table in an alcove of the Roissy library, and Claudia and Collette – till sweaty and naked, but released from Inigo who had wandered away- stood on either side of the fireplace. As foe Emilie. She remained in the shadowy nook, trying to look inconspicuous and avoid Kubel. But her efforts went for naught. As she was facing the bookshelves, pretending to straighten the books, he came up behind her and said, “Fraulein, I would like to rent a car from you. Perhaps a large BMW. Do you have such?”
Taken by surprise and completely flustered, Emilie spun around to face the handsome German. She started to say something, but no words came out. Instead, Kubel spoke again, “Sorry for startling you, but did you not think I would recognize someone so beautiful as you? Although, I must say your ass looks better unclothed than it does when you are wearing those dreadful slacks at work. And I must also say, I am somewhat surprised to find you working here at Roissy.” He paused a moment, looking Emilie up and down, before continuing, “And you are much more enticing when you are nearly naked in this dress which exposes your breasts and rolled up to view your sex and rear.”
Now Emilie composed herself a bit and nodding to old Cyril, said, “I was told to wear this dress and that man in the chair there said I should roll it up so that one could see where I was flogged last night.”
“Yes, I noticed the stripes. Rather becoming and sexy, don’t you think?”
Now Emilie realized that it was Kubel’s voice last night. She thought, “That voice. That’s the one that said to me when I was bent over the ottoman, ‘Lift up so that I can play with your nipples.’ That was his voice.” And looking Kubel in the eye, she said, “You were one of the men who took me last night. Weren’t you?”
He answered, “Yes. And you seemed to enjoy it. At least until you were flogged. But you did enjoy the sex, didn’t you?”
Emilie started to deny it, but she knew she had already blushed deeply from the remark and that her red face had signaled assent. Instead, she remained silent. Fritz Kubel showed a wide smile and said, “I thought we might go up to my room and get even better acquainted. Then he took her hand in his. And to herself Emilie thought, “I really have no choice. But if I did, I would agree to it.”
And as Colete and Claudia looked on from their posts by the fireplace, Fritz Kubel led Emilie from the library. Outside, the sun began to set.
From her nook in the library at Roissy, Emilie watched in disbelief as yet another man sauntered into the large room. She shrank back into the shadows, pretending to straighten some of the books on the shelves, but watched closely from the corner of her eye as the man went to Gaspar Waingro-Valmont and Eric, the man who had driven Emilie to Roissy the previous day, and engaged in a quiet conversation. To herself, Emilie thought, “Dear God! That is Fritz Kubel. I recognize him from the rental car agency where I work. He’s that handsome German man who rented the large BMW 750. He seemed quite rich and powerful. No wonder, I fantasized about having sex with him. I flirted with him a little and it seemed like he flirted back. And now he’s here at Roissy. What if he sees me! Me with my dress rolled up so the welts on my ads where I was whipped last night showing. Oh God, if he recognizes me, I may die from humiliation!”
Of course, what Emilie did not know, and had no way of knowing, was that Kubel already knew she was there. He had been one of the men who had participated in her initiation to Roissy the previous night. As all the men had been masked, Emilie was unaware of their identities and had only just discovered that the young Spainard who had just finished with Collette was one of them when she recognized his voice.
As Emilie tried to remain inconspicuous, Kubel, Gaspar and Eric retired to an alcove on the other side of the immense room. Mercifully, Emilie noted that Kubel sat with his back to the side of the room where Emilie was “Perhaps, he won’t see me,” she thought, as her attention went back to the center of the room where Claudia was now straightening the trousers of young man who had finished with Collette. Seeing this, Emilie’s thoughts again returned to the young Spainard. “I still cannot believe that pipsqueak was one of the men who used me so brutally last night. Why, he’s shorter than me and I’ll wager he doesn’t weigh sixty kilos. And a Spainard at that. But his cock! Why it’s half again as large as Denis. Maybe bigger even than Thierry! And he rammed it into me at least once. Maybe more. And I’ll bet the little turd was one of the ones who whipped me. And Denis, my supposed lover, my Denis who talked me into coming to this place, just stood by and watched!”
While Emilie was working herself up into a fill snit, a conversation was taking place at the table in the alcove across the library. “Okay then. We seem to have settled on a deal, correct Herr Kubel?” said Gaspar.
“Yes, I believe so. I will let Herr Weber know that you and Eric here wish to invest in his repurposed Yugo factory, an assembly portion of which will be situated in Spain. There he will receive tax incentives. And in return, Herr Weber will support the elder Montoya’s bid for the Spanish presidency. Yes, I am sure Herr Weber will agree to it.”
“Excellent,” said Gaspar. “And on another note, I trust you have been enjoying your time here at Roissy. It seems obvious that young Montoya has been.”
“Yes. Quite so. I wish I did not have to go back to Stuttgart in the morning.”
“Well, I do hope you will avail yourself of mote of the pleasures of the flesh before you depart. Shall I have a valet bring you another girl.”
“No, that is all right. I believe I will just take the one we used last night, the one who seems to be hiding in the nook over there, up to my room if that is okay.”
Gaspar laughed and said, “Of course. She is here only for a week. We want her to have the full Roissy experience. “
Emilie had her dress unbuttoned so that her breasts were exposed, and her hands were bound behind her back. The man in the three-piece suit and the other man in the chauffer’s uniform helped her to alight from the large BMW after a trip that lasted half an hour. Then they guided Emilie across a stone bridge to a large chateau. In the fading light, they saw a door open and watched as Emilie was guided in. Then, with her blindfold still on, she was led through one or two doors. When Emilie’s blindfold was removed, she found herself standing alone in a dark room. She was there for half an hour, or an hour, or two hours, Emilie wasn’t sure, but it seemed forever. Then, when at last the door was opened and the light turned on, you could see that she had been waiting in a very conventional, comfortable, yet distinctive room: there was a thick rug on the floor, but not a stick of furniture, and all four walls were lined with closets or mirrors. The door had been opened by two women, two young and beautiful women dressed in the garb of eighteenth-century chambermaids: full skirts made from some light material; tight bodices, laced or hooked in front, which sharply accentuated their bust line; lace frills around the neck; half-length sleeves. Both women were wearing eye shadow and lipstick, and both wore a close-fitting collar and had tight bracelets on their wrists.
At this point that they freed Emilie’s hands, which were still tied behind her back. The taller of the two women, both of whom had dark brown hair and slender figures, told her to get undressed, they were going to bathe her and make her up. It was easy enough – all Emilie had on was the summer weight floral dress and her high heels. Gaspar had instructed her not to wear a bra, and the man in the car had taken her panties after she had removed them at this request - at his order? – and placed them in the pocket of his suit. Once Emilie pulled the dress over her head, she hadn’t a stitch of clothing on. She handed it to the taller of the two women, neither of who had yet introduced themselves. She then put Emilie’s dress and shoes away neatly in one of the closets.
It was at this time that the taller woman said, “My name is Collette,” then nodding to the shorter one, “And this is Therese. I was told that you are Emilie. Correct?”
Emilie, who was not sure if she was supposed to speak, and feeling somewhat vulnerable in her nakedness, only nodded her assent.
The one called Collette continued, “We are going to bathe you and do your hair and makeup. You must be beautiful for your presentation.” Then, after a moment, she added, “Actually, you already are.”
Collette guided Emilie to a large tub and helped her in. She was not allowed to bathe herself. Instead, Collette and Therese used sponges to apply the warm soapy water to her body, carefully soaping her breasts and lower regions. As Therese slid the sponge down Emilie’s belly, she quickly thrust a finger into her slit. Emilie gasped slightly and Therese asked, “The man in the car. He played with you some, didn’t he?”
Again, Emilie didn’t speak, but nodded her assent.
Collette declared the bath complete. Therese helped Emilie from the tub, dried her with a soft towel and guided her to one of those large chairs found at hairdressers which tilts back when they wash your hair and straightens back up after the hair has been set and you’re ready for the dryer. Emilie sat down and the two young women began working on her hair and make-up. At her hairdresser in Paris, this always took at least an hour. Tonight, it took more than an hour, but Emilie remained seated on the chair, naked. She unconsciously tried to close her knees, but the young women kept her from either crossing her legs or bringing them together. And since the wall in front of her was covered from floor to ceiling with a large mirror, which was unbroken by any shelving, Emilie could see herself, thus open, each time her gaze strayed to the mirror.
When she was properly made up and prepared – her straight blonde-streaked hair done up fashionably; mascara applied; her eyelids pencilled lightly; her lips bright red, instead of the light pink she had been wearing when the chauffer approached her at the entrance of the park near the Orsay Museum. Therese had used a small brush to highlight the nipples and areolas of her breasts with a dark pink. The edges of Emilie’s nether lips were rouged; her armpits and pubis generously perfumed, and perfume also applied to the furrow between her thighs, the furrow beneath her breasts, and to the hollows of her hands. Collette surveyed Therese and her work, and declared Emilie was ready.
Just as the orgasm within Jeanne’s sex began to swell, she heard – as if in a dream – the sound of Gaspar’s voice say, “Why look. It’s my nephew Louis come to grace us with his presence.” Hearing this, Jeanne wanted to hold back. She thought, “Dear God! Please do not let me come now. Not like this. Sprawled over the lap of this lecherous old man fingering my sex and rear. I am so humiliated. If Louis sees me like this, he may leave me. And I wouldn’t blame him. His lover brought to orgasm by this old man. Almost old enough to be my father’s father.”
But Jeanne was too far gone. She gave way to old Cyril’s insistent fingers. Despite her humiliation, she uttered a weak cry and her face changed to that face that indicates a woman reaching her pleasure. A face that is eternal, and beautiful. As Louis looked on, Jeanne’s cries turned to gasps as the orgasm swelled and convulsed throughout her body.
Claudia stood by the end table, not uttering a sound. And from the shadows by the fireplace, Emilie watched, feeling her own self becoming wet and aroused at seeing Jeanne. Then as Jeanne’s orgasm subsided, her sex made a few ‘pfft’ sounds, and old Cyril laughed and said, “Ahh, pussy farts! What a lovely sound.“ Then he pulled his fingers and thumb from Jeanne’s sex and rear, the thumb making a slight noise similar to that of a cork being pulled from a bottle of wine.
For a few moments silence ensued within the Roissy library before Cyril broke the silence saying, “Louis old chap, you might want to think about enlarging your young whore’s asshole. She’s quite tight. I had a bit of trouble even inserting my thumb. I can only imagine how troublesome it must be for that young cock of yours.” Jeanne’s face burned red with shame and humiliation. She dared not look up at her lover’s face. She thought, “I know Louis will leave me now. I’m sure he thinks of me as the lowest sort of whore. I’m sure he will just turn and leave. Leave me to my Fate. And then I shall kill myself.” And tears began forming in her eyes.
But Louis spoke, “Jeanne, you were even more beautiful when you came. It is no wonder that I love you so.” Then he came over and took Jeanne’s hand, raising her up from old Cyril, saying, “Now I must take you upstairs to my room. To bed.” With Louis’ hand guiding her, Jeanne stood up from the sofa and pushed her skirt down. As she did so, she could feel the weight of the medallion on the small chain hanging from her labia, and thought, “Perhaps Louis does love me. After all, he thinks enough of me to mark me as his property.” And she looked up at Louis and mouthed the words, “I love you.”
As the young lovers left the room, Old, fat Cyril brought his fingers under his nose and chuckled to himself. Gaspar made a slight frown and then resumed his conversation with Eric in whispered tones. The wood in the fireplace crackled as it burned. It was as if Time stood still. Then Cyril broke the near silence, looking at Emilie and saying, “You there. New girl. Bring me another brandy.”
