#gonzalo

¿Pena de muerte o absolución? ¿Matrícula de honor o suspenso en proyectos? 

Pierre smiled broadly, “It’s Noelle. She showed up at the main entrance early yesterday. Said she had to speak to Anne Marie.”

Hearing this Collette hissed, “Noelle! That cunt! I bet Anne Marie shot her on sight.”

Pierre chucked and said, “Perhaps Anne Marie did, but if she did, Noelle’s body is still in Anne Marie’s private quarters. I haven’t seen either of them emerge since yesterday morning.” Marloes gave a puzzled look. “I do not understand. Who is this Noelle and what is her story?” “That’s right. You weren’t here when all the scandal took place. Claudia was.” Then looking at Claudia, Pierre said, “You tell Marloes what happened.”

Claudia began, “It was several years ago, maybe five. I can’t really remember. Anyway, it was shortly after Uta first came to Roissy. Noele was probably a teenager. She just showed up one day and sort of became a mascot. She could tell jokes and was always full of gossip. Everyone loved her…”

Colette broke in, “Not everyone, dear.”

Claudia ignored her and went on. “And then there was Julianne. She was a piece of work. Her Master/lover had earlier brought her here for training. Then suddenly, he just disappeared. Rumor was that he was involved with a crime syndicate and got himself killed. So, Julianne had nowhere else to go; she was here when Noelle showed up. There was something about Julianne. Everyone, except maybe sourpuss there (Claudia pointed to Collette) had the hots for her. Masters, valets, guests, other slaves, but especially Anne Marie. She put Collette out of her bed and took Julianne in her place. And since young Noelle had a crush on Julianne, Anne Marie took her to bed, also. Julianne told me that Anne Marie enjoyed watching Noelle and Julianne make out before Julianne went down on her.”

Marloes said, “That doesn’t sound like a scandal, just lesbian drama.”

“There’s more,” said Claudia. At that time there was a valet here named Gonzalo. Really handsome. But he, too, fell under Julianne’s spell. He mooned over her like a teenager. Noelle probably sensed that eventually Anne Marie would tire of watching her and Julianne, so she came up with a scheme. She convinced – I’m not sure if it was Julianne or Gonzalo – that the three of them would just run away from Roissy. Go to America, get rich and live happily ever after.”

Marloes interrupted, “Girls like us don’t usually live happily ever after.”

“Anyway, one morning, as Anne Marie was making her rounds, Julianne left her private quarters, met up with Gonzalo and Noelle and just left. Poof! Gone! But even worse, Noelle left a letter for Anne Marie stating that Julianne never loved her, in fact despised her. After that, things got bad around here. Anne Marie was more of a witch than ever. Poor Doutzen and Uta got the worst of it, but we all suffered some. Some of the girls who weren’t private slaves, left because of her. Finally, one of the Masters sat Anne Marie down and gave her a stern talking to. Threatened to remove her as day-to-day manager. And honestly (Claudia cast an eye to Collette) after she took this one back, she lightened up a bit.”

Collette smiled and said, “You are all welcome. But then that little bitch Yvette came along.”

“But back to Noelle. After that, things returned to what passes for normal here.” Then, “Pierre, was Julianne with Noelle?”

Pierre answered, “No. Just Noelle.”

Noelle looked at Anne Marie with tears welling in her brown doe-like eyes and said, “Julianne is dead!”

This seemed to take Anne Marie aback. She stuttered, “What? How?” Then, “And why are you here telling me this?”

“She died of an overdose. I found her lying against the bed in her room, slumped over. A needle in her arm. I think it was fentanyl laced herion.”

Anne Marie gasped, “No! I thought she, Gonzalo, and you…” Her voice trailed off.

Noelle began to sob, and the story came pouring out. “After we left Roissy, we went to America. To Miami. Gonzalo said he had family there. It turned out that he only had a sister living in Miami – an older sister who lived with a much older man. He was very strait-laced and disapproving. He said that he certainly wouldn’t help out a man traveling with a couple of French whores! We didn’t have much money and neither Julianne nor I spoke very good English at the time. Gonzalo asked around and finally got both of us jobs working as dancers in a nude dancing club. So, we became strippers. Gonzalo had trouble finding work – all he could do was work as a day laborer. We lived in one of those long term stay motels that seem to be prevalent in the worst parts of American cities. The three of us in one small room.

“We lived basically hand to mouth. Working in the strip club wasn’t so bad. A girl might make close to a hundred U.S. dollars or more if she went into one of what they call a VIP room – a private room away from the dance floor. There she might give a discrete blow job to a customer. And we both knew how to let a man know we were available for that. After all, Julianne and I had been basically whores here at Roissy. But the club took most of what we earned, similar to here. So, we were nearly always broke. Julianne accused Gonzalo of not even trying to work. And to an extent it was true. We would come home after the club closed and he would say that he had looked for work but couldn’t find any. That often led to quarrels. Gonzalo would quiz us about what we did at the club, calling us whores. I remember him saying more than once that he should have just left us at Roissy.

“Drugs were easy to find in that neighborhood. And we found them. I mostly smoked marijuana, but Julianne preferred pills. She said, she liked the way it made her feel – drifting away from her unhappiness. Then she turned up pregnant. She wouldn’t say if the baby’s daddy was Gonzalo or someone else. I’m not sure she knew who it might be. But she miscarried. After that it was a downward spiral. She began using heroin. She was still dancing, so she had to hide the needle marks. Sometimes she would shoot up between her toes or in her labia. I’m sure she was blowing the guy the dealer because she never had any money. Then most days she was too zonked to work.

“Gonzalo heard about a job at the port of Tampa, so he went there, leaving us in Miami. That depressed Julianne even more. I would work every day, so we wouldn’t get evicted. Julianne began hanging around with her dealer and some other guys. I think they would give her drugs and then take turns using her. She was being treated way worse than she ever had been here.

“And then one day, I came home from work and found her slumped beside the bed, a needle still in her arm.” By now, tears were streaming down Noelle’s face. She continued, “I couldn’t bear it. I had saved some money, so I bought a plane ticket to Paris, and here I am. Anne Marie, please. Please take me back. Roissy is my home. Please take me back!”

As O was telling Uschi about how she came to be a slave in the cellar of a home on the outskirts of Amsterdam, other events were unfolding near Paris. Pierre, the senior valet at Roissy was sitting by the main door to the Chateau, in a straight back chair dozing slightly. It was nearing dawn and he and Charles (usually called Charles Martel, or merely the “Hammer” due to the size and length of his member which some of the Masters said brought to mind the weapon used by the Medieval Frankish king) had put the slaves away a couple of hours earlier, carefully chaining each one to their beds. His shift would end in a bit, and Pierre looked forward to going back to his cottage where he lived with his fat wife and ugly children. But a soft knock on the door awakened Pierre.

Pierre got up from the chair and peered through the peephole in the massive door. He saw a short, slender woman, dressed shabbily, standing outside in the darkness. In an instant Pierre recognized her. He opened the door and said, “The bad penny returns! Noelle is that really you?”

The small figure replied, “Yes. It’s me.”

“What on earth are you doing here?” asked Pierre as Charles was walking up to see what was going on.

“I need to speak with Anne Marie. It’s important. Now, let me in and take me to her, please,” she said.

Pierre responded, “Okay, it’s your funeral,” as he opened the huge door. Then he turned to Charles and said, “You guard the entrance while I take this one to Anne Marie.” The “Hammer” plopped down in the chair Pierre had vacated and said, “I’ll be right here.”

+++++

About twenty minutes Pierre returned. Charles looked at him and said, “Just what was that all about?” Pierre replied, “Several years ago, probably at least five, that girl – her name is Noelle- was here. She was quite young, barely of legal age; I think she was a runaway. She hung out with the other bitches, sort of a mascot. Anne Marie saw that the slaves for the most part liked her, so she let her stay. At that time Anne Marie’s ‘girl’ was that bitch Collette; this was way before Yvette, her current ‘girl’ came along. Then Julianne appeared. Her Master, lover, whatever, had brought her here and basically abandoned her. She cozied up to Anne Marie, and before you knew it, Collette was out of Anne Marie’s bed and Julianne was in it.”

“Okay. I got that, but what does that have to do with this Noelle girl.”

“I’m getting to that,” said Pierre. “You see there was something about Julianne. Noelle had the hots for her. Anne Marie didn’t mind that so much. She rather enjoyed seeing Noelle and Julianne kissing and going down on one another, so long as Julianne came running when Anne Marie snapped her fingers. But there was a valet here then called Gonzalo. He was a Cuban from Miami in the United States. Tall, good looking,” Pierre paused, then, “And almost as hung as you, my friend.” Anyway, one day he came to me and said that he had fallen in love with Julianne. And she with him. I told him he was crazy. He was a valet at Roissy. He could have any of the other slaves here. All he had to do was threaten to whip them unless they blew him or submitted to him, but ‘NO.’ He said he only wanted Julianne. He wanted to ‘save’ her. Take her away from here.”

Charles said, “Okay. I got that, but still, what does that have to do Noelle.”

Pierre continued, “Noelle came up with an idea. A scheme really. She convinced Gonzalo to take both Julianne and her and leave. Go to America. So, one night when he was supposed to be chaining the slaves to their beds, he slipped out with Julianne and Noelle. He had a car waiting just by the old bridge. And ‘poof,’ they were gone. And the worst part was that Noelle had penned a letter to Anne Marie basically saying that Julianne and she would rather be with Gonzalo than her.”

“Oh, I bet Anne Marie was not happy about that,” said Charles.

“Yes. She was a terror for a long time. Acted almost crazy. Taking out most of her anger on the slaves that were here at the time. It was so bad that many of the free prostitutes just left rather than put up with her mood swings and unpredictable violence. Finally, one of the Masters sat Anne Marie down and threated to fire her if she didn’t become a little more reasonable. After a while she did. She took Collette back- at least until Yvette came along- and things got back to normal.

“But why on earth do you think Noelle returned. And what does she want to talk to Anne Marie about?” asked Charles.