Fools for Lust (29 page)

Finally, the circle of Masters decree the ultimate punishment at the next party he is to be brought to. Which is when he awoke.

‘A companion in slavery,' Thalie remarks. ‘Yes, I think that would be quite appropriate for you ...'

‘Would I?'

‘But it's all a dream, you know, Anne-Louise hates men, she would never want you as her slave. If you had a wife to offer in exchange for time with me, maybe then she might entertain your proposal. Dream on.'

‘I will,' he says.

Q & A

‘What did you do when Anne-Louise threw you out?'

‘I pleaded, made a fool of myself, threw myself at her feet. Even begged to be retained if only as a servant, so that I may look after her and her new young mistress.'

‘Did you meet her – this new girl?'

‘Yes, some months later. Tall, blonde, everything I wasn't. New. Virgin territory for Anne-Louise's cruel whims.'

‘But she didn't allow you to stay on?'

‘No. I was desperate. I knew my parents would never have me back. I had given up my studies without obtaining any diplomas or qualifications, how could I find a job, somewhere to live? During the two years I had spent with Anne-Louise I had deliberately lost the few friends I had before our encounter, I had nothing, I never even had any more normal clothes to wear. Anne-Louise had once mentioned, almost as a joke, a couple who had on two occasions visited her soirees and been witness to my servility and asked where they could find a similar maid. Maybe I could go and place myself in their service. The idea didn't appeal to me. Become a servant to people I had already privately served as a slave. But I had no other alternative. Anne-Louise phoned them and a deal was agreed.'

‘And that's where you are now?'

‘I've now worked here two years almost. They leave for work – they are both senior managers for a large insurance company in a nearby town – early in the morning and my duties are to keep the house clean, wash, iron, dust, prepare the food. I am not allowed any mail or telephone calls. I play on the internet. Watch TV. They are hard on me. The woman has custody of the padlock key, but she is capricious and often declines to set the rings free, particularly when I'm having my periods. It amuses her. Most of the time, I am just their servant, but sometimes they remember my nature and my past, usually when they have drunk heavily. He fucks me, she watches, has me lick her. Christmas last, I was seemingly too enthusiastic while he used me extensively and the next day, out of jealousy, she beat me badly.'

‘Do you still hear from Anne-Louise?'

‘Not often. She keeps in touch though.'

‘Do you still love her?'

‘Yes, as much as ever.'

‘Will she ever have you back?'

‘I live in that hope, but I realise how unlikely it is. I'm realistic.'

‘Are you happy?'

‘Yes, in my own way. But living with my owners is boring. The house is in the middle of nowhere. The only contact I have with other human beings is when they take me on holiday with them. Spain in the summer; a house in the mountains in France near Easter. In Spain, I am allowed to wear shorts and bikinis. The padlock is taken off and I am allowed to be naughty. I fuck boys, with rubber protection of course. They don't mind as long as I'm not late back at their villa to cook the meals.'

‘Can you see your life remaining the same for years to come, Thalie? A leading question, I know.'

‘I'm only 20. I am a sub ... But I do harbour hopes of convincing Anne-Louise of giving me to B.'

‘But he's the man who tried to brand you?'

‘I know, but I think he would be a good Master for me ...'

‘It's your life.'

‘It is.'

‘And I'm no knight in shining armour, Thalie. I have no mission in life to change your nature. You touch me, though. I feel much tenderness for you.'

‘Do you think you could be my new Master, then?'

‘I'm not sure. Willing to give it my best shot ...' I hear my smile between these lines.

‘If you were a true dom, you would know already. I don't think you are somehow.'

‘I'm sadly aware of the fact. But I still want to see you. Badly. Can you find a way to get away for a few days? Meet me somewhere? Anywhere? There must be some pretext you can use, a white lie. That aunt in Paris who's left you the deeds of the apartments she owns and rents out, for instance. You could invent a reason to go there, to sign legal papers ... Please, Thalie.'

‘Maybe. Let me think.'

He packs.

He had asked the day before whether they should purchase a case for the clothes they had bought together, but she had declined. She came with nothing and insists she should return to her owners similarly. It would be suspicious otherwise and, unlike Anne-Louise's, she does not appreciate their beatings. He realises he had never even asked her what alibi, what lie she had used to justify her trip.

He watches as she stuffs the barely-worn chenille jumper, the rainbow skirt, the cream see-through blouse, the stockings and sundry knick knacks into the hotel room's wicker waste basket. He's packed the cuffs and the strap-on in his own case, although he's thinking of disposing of them in a washroom at the airport. It would be too embarrassing to be searched at customs.

They take the lift in heavy silence. He settles the bill with his credit card and the doorman hails a cab.

‘Newark.'

It's early morning, ahead of the commuter traffic. The journey barely takes half an hour. Throughout, he holds her hand in his.

Way down his throat, there are a million words he wishes to say, but they break up like flotsam against the rampart of his lips. He knows he hasn't the eloquence to change her life. Or his.

Her flight is a whole hour earlier than his.

Her thin, fragile silhouette disappears down the neon-lit corridor that leads to her departure lounge. He has checked: her plane is on time. They haven't even said goodbye. Before the bend, she turns, smiles and blows him a kiss.

He knows he will never see her again. The letters will continue for a short time, then they will slow down and a day will come when she just disappears, the property of a new Master, who will forbid all contact with her former life. And his mind will imagine the worst. Violation. Torture. Death. Because the life she has chosen is a one-way street.

And his heart doesn't own the right passport.

www.xcitebooks.com