Chapter 8

Back.

The journey had been a hazy, floating affair. The world moved about her in shrouds and murmurs. Someone must have carried her in strong arms. It made her feel like a helpless baby. Long stretches were missing from her memory. Throughout the journey she had been wrapped in a buzz of transportation.

Maybe she had been drugged to save her the hassle. Maybe it was her sheer exhaustion. But when she heard the wheels of the car crush the pebbles of the driveway, she woke up to a new and brilliant clearness. She lifted her head out of the fluffy blankets. Over her arched a crystal sky. Around her rolled an emerald sea of pine trees. Her door opened. And an overwhelming wave of memories returned. It was the fragrance of a lost paradise. A tear ran down her cheek. She opened her ravaged mouth with a gasp.

Near the steps to the front portal of the house waited her Mistress. Arnold started to help the blonde girl up and out. But she smiled at him. She pushed him aside and crawled out of the blanket. She slid out of the car and stood on shaking legs. The glaring light made her blink. Then she took the hem of her long T-shirt and raised it over her head. She wriggled out of her panties and walked ever so slowly up to her Mistress. She showed Angique her mauled body in all its touching nakedness.

One step away she sank to her knees. She put her hands behind her head and arched her body. She knew her Mistress loved to see her like that. Her eyes shone with a newfound energy. Her body caught the brilliance of the sun and her hoarse voice whispered: "Kristie is back, sweet Mistress. Do with her as you please".

The pale woman in tight dark leather reached out to the kneeling girl. She wept.

She pulled her up and hugged her in a long embrace. Both women shook with emotion. Neither had the intention to let the other go. Arnold and Maria scurried around them. But they sank into a long, deep kiss. They were oblivious to the world around them.

Through force of will, Angique let go of the girl's mouth. She cleared her face from strands of golden hair and said: "Don't you ever hurt me like this again." She laughed out of mascara dripping eyes. Then she grabbed the girl by her shoulders and led her into the cool, shadowed Villa.

Kristie had slept another eight hours. Dusk crept in when Maria rapped on her door and entered. She carried a tray with tea and cake. She also brought a pile of soft thick towels and medication.

The woman poured Kristie a cup. She watched her drink and eat. Then she took her to the bathroom where she had drawn a hot, fragrant bath.

Maria shaved her mound and washed her hair. Then she dried her and poured soothing oil all over the bruised and scratched body. She took extra care of the pierced nipple and the eye that still had a dark shade over it. The swelling had almost gone. She sat her on the bidet and rinsed her twice with a warm, soapy enema.

Kristie brushed her teeth. Then she did her make up the way she knew her Mistress liked it. On her bed lay a tiny satin dress. It had an iridescent sea green colour. She slipped it over her head and enjoyed the slithering sensation. It aroused her glowing skin and happy nipples.

She felt reborn. The numb sadness that had clung like wet canvas to the emptiness of her soul had evaporated. She wondered what it was about this place. As soon as she entered, she felt like sliding into a narrow velvet slot of time. The past did not seem to exist, nor did the notion of a future.

It had been like that the first time. Now it was the same. But there was a difference. The first time it had bothered her. It had given her a claustrophobic feeling. Not knowing what lay ahead had made her nervous. It had always been the foundation of her proud independence to see a glimpse of direction. In hindsight it had been the foremost reason for her to return to Florida and her old life. She had feared the loss of control.

That nervousness had gone entirely. The velvet glove now felt like an intimate second skin. There had not even been a shade of a struggle to accept it. She knew the difference was trust. She had learned the hard way that her new life could only be lived here. She had craved to be the new Kristie. She needed to leave her dull, stupid existence behind. Now she knew that this new Kristie could only live where she was born. Only with her Mistress could she be this unashamed sexual creature and survive.

Of course none of these thoughts were as articulate as this. But she knew she felt a new freedom. She wasn't at all puzzled that it was a freedom gained by captivity.

She stood in front of the mirror. She turned her newfound body in the shining light of her newly earned confidence. The lovely sling back heels were in the same elusive sea-green colour. They very elegantly shaped her bronzed calves. She pushed out her satin tits and sighed. God, wasn't it wonderful to be back where one didn't have to look cheap to feel sexy.

In the mirror she saw her Mistress at the entrance of her room. She wore a dark red silk kimono. It opened wide at the front to show her corset-hugged body. The corset was made of a transparent black lace that looked as if it had been tattooed on the porcelain skin itself. Kristie flashed a smile of a million Watts. She danced into her arms.

"I love you", she whispered. She planted a kiss on Angique's smiling lips. But the woman put a finger on Kristie's mouth. She shook her black bob-styled hair. "Be careful, darling", she said and laughed her silver laugh. "I prefer smaller promises."

She slid her arm through Kristie's. Then she lead her down the corridor and down the stairs. The playful duet of their tapping heels lasted all the way to the terrace. A lovely low table was set amidst dozens of candles. Huge pillows lay strewn around it. Angique went for the silver cooler. She filled two high-stemmed glasses with champagne. Then she picked two plump strawberries from a basket and plunged them into the sizzling wine.

She presented one glass to Kristie. Then she took her to the edge of the terrace. She toasted by moving the glass up into the direction of the deep, shimmering lake below.

"To our future, little pet", she said. "Let's empty it to the bottom." She made the glasses touch. Then she finished hers in one slow, long swallow. She sighed and smacked her lips very un-ladylike.

Kristie took after her example. She took care not to chase the bubbles up her nose and spoil the effect.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth", Angique said. She did. Then she felt two fingers and a fragrant, plump object slip between her lips. It was the champagne soaked strawberry. It felt on her tongue like the most sensual of things. In fact it made her gasp.

She sucked on the fingers and the fruit. To her own surprise a low moan rose from her throat. A gush of warm summer wind pushed the satin against her tits. It painted lovely highlights where her nipples rose.

The ring showed its circle of irrefutable bondage.

Angique asked her to sit with her. They both sank into the soft pillows at one side of the low table. Kristie leant against her Mistress. Her golden hair mingled with the black, where their heads lay together.

Angique fed her another piece of soft round fruit. It was a fat white grape. Then she closed her eyes and received one from Kristie.

"Aren't these the most wonderful of table manners, darling?", Angique asked. She smiled. Kristie could not agree more.

"Welcome back, sweet Kristie", Angique continued. They shared a few more grapes. Then they licked each other's fingers and lips. "Things must have been awful for you."

Kristie hung her head and blushed.

"I got all I deserved, Mistress", she whispered. "I have acted like an ungrateful bitch."

Angique tipped Kristie's chin up. She gazed into her eyes.

"It has been a cruel test, please forgive me", she said. And she kissed the girl's half-open lips ever so softly. "I knew your world would not accept the new Kristie I had created. But the new Kristie had to come out. She can't be subdued, can she?"

Kristie swallowed.

"I am so proud of the woman you made me, Mistress. I did not know who I was or where I was heading."

Angique chuckled.

"I have not made you into any woman at all, yet, darling", she said. She traced Kristie's face that shone in the light of the candles. "You are only at the brink of a journey. And I haven't even asked you to take it with me."

From the deep shadows a huge form appeared. It was the gray Dane. He moved almost dead quiet on the soft pads of his paws. He came closer and nudged his massive snout into Angique's hand.

"Hello, sweet Brynn", she said. "Did you already say hello to your lovely bitch? She has returned, you know."

The hound seemed to understand. He changed over to Kristie. He pushed his head into the crotch he remembered. Then he slid the slick satin higher up her thighs. The girl stiffened in the embrace of her Mistress. She moved away from the animal. Then she gasped. A small oooh slipped from her mouth.

Angique laughed.

"Ah well, Brynn, good boy. Leave the girl alone for a bit. You lustful creature, you!" She patted his head and threw him a piece of cold meat. He devoured it with a snarl. Then he scuffled off into the shadows again.

"Brynn has upset you", Angique said. She reached out to pick up a piece of bread. She dipped it into a small bowl of virgin olive oil and sucked on it, her eyes closed.

Kristie did not answer. Her head had turned crimson.

"The experience must have been intense, when the sweet boy licked your clitty", Angique continued with a smile. She broke off another piece of bread. She dipped it in and slipped it into Kristie's mouth. It painted her lips with oil.

"I... I...", the girl said. She chewed the new delicacy.

"I remember you shook with ecstasy, love", Angique said. She covered her bread with a green tapanade and savoured it slowly.

Kristie's head glowed. She blessed the darkness.

"Must have been a shock, though, when the blindfold was lifted from your eyes."

"Yes, Mistress", Kristie said. She looked down on her hands.

"It was a night of humiliations, wasn't it, darling?", Angique said. She laughed and kissed the embarrassed girl full on the lips. Her hand kneaded aroused flesh through the satin.

The first course was a delicious minestrone. It was filled with the freshest of early summer herbs and vegetables. Angique spooned it out of a lovely china bowl. She fed Kristie. Then she took a spoonful herself.

"Mmmmm," she exclaimed. "Maria must really like you, darling! She never made a soup like this for me." Their combined laughter even stopped the eternal hordes of cicadas in their tracks.

When half of the minestrone had gone, Angique put the bowl aside. She pulled Kristie towards her, and started one of the many endless kisses of the evening. Kristie felt her frame melt as though she dissolved into her Mistress.

Oh God, to be back here. To be with her again, inside her. To feel my moans vibrate in her throat, and hers in mine. My pussy must be so very wet by now. Ever since I have been with her again, my cunt has run. I feel its juices leak down my thighs. So embarrassing. So delicious.

She felt the soft, dry hands of Angique slide under the short hem of her dress. They roamed freely over her thighs and belly. Then they went all over her aching tits. Oh my, dear Lord, to hover on this tempting edge for so long. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the wriggling eel that captured her tongue. It strangled hers, made it dance. It pulled it out and sucked it in. And all the while the hand caressed her.

It took her to the brink of insanity.

Suddenly, all had gone. The tongue, the hand. Kristie gasped for air and felt her abandoned body tremble. A soft, low moan left her mouth. She sagged into the pillows.

Angique poured a bottom of red wine into her glass. She smelled it, then tasted it carefully. Her eyes were closed. "Mmmmm, good!", she said and poured two glasses. She handed one to Kristie.

"Please taste this, darling", she said. She raised her glass. "This wine is a Volnay from Bourgogne. It is a treacherously named wine. There are five different Volnay wines, all from the same tiny hillside. But they taste as differently as though they came from five different continents. So much like us women, don't you agree? This one is the best, though. It grew on the toughest, poorest part of the hill. Taste and tell me."

She watched Kristie take a tiny sip and protested. "Mais non, ma petite! Take a good swallow. That is the only way to taste a good wine." And she took a sizeable mouthful.

"Now close your eyes, darling. Don't tell me you don't know much about wine. A sensual girl like you must be a natural. Use your senses. Taste it like you would my tongue..."

Kristie leaned back and closed her eyes. She felt Angique's hand return. It lingered inside her cleavage. It slowly started kneading her breast.

The wine spread its glow inside her head and throat. It sent a tingling sensation everywhere. She slowly swallowed. Then she opened her eyes.

"Oh, Mistress", she whispered.

Angique pulled her up and engulfed her mouth with hers. Hot red wine seeped from hers into the girl's. Then she sucked it back.And pushed it out again.

"You like my wine, darling?", she asked, grinning.

"Am I in heaven, Mistress?", Kristie asked.

"Yes, love", Angique said. "And you earned it."

Then she asked about Florida. She was shocked when Kristie told her what had happened. "Oh my sweet God", she whispered. Kristie told her about the two Negro guys and the awful yuppie blokes who had pushed her into the streets, an easy prey for the horrible pimp.

"You tried to reach me several times, my sweet child", she said. "And I wasn't there. Oh God, that must have been so awful. You must have felt lost and forsaken."

Angique took Kristie in her arms again. She could feel how the memories brought back the fear. They made the girl's body quake.

"But I am here now, love. Nothing to fear, all is over. You are save with me."

Again they kissed under the infinite copula of darkest velvet. It sparkled with diamond stars around a silver moon.

Art.

That first night back in the lavender fields of her pillow Brigitte knew she had blown it. Ah, mais oui, who was she kidding? She had already felt the mistake the minute the car had left the hills. She had strained her neck to catch a glimpse of the stables or even of sweet Thibault. But trees and shrubbery had covered everything. A well-known emptiness returned to the pit of her stomach. The last glimpse of Villa d'Este disappeared behind a steep knee of the mountain. She sank into the leather back seat of the speeding car. She touched her hair, freshly washed and blown. A crooked smile crawled over her face. Ah, yes. She ought to be proud of herself. She had not budged; she had not sold herself to this arrogant woman. This bitch who had tried to humiliate her when she herself wasn't even there. What did she think Brigitte was? A toy? A silly teenager so overwhelmed with awe that she would accept anything?

One small thing didn't help much, though. She did not feel proud at all. She felt sad and frustrated. At the centre of her soul was a gaping emptiness. That feeling did not leave her at the airport or on the plane. It just grew. And it was in blatant contrast with the feeling she'd had when she had flown in, only days ago.

Québec was Québec. It was the city where she had been born and had grown up in. The difference was, she could smell it now. A mixture of traffic exhausts and the deep, oily undertone of the big river that passed through it. She had never smelled Québec. The scent had nothing to do with a feeling of home or with emotions of the same nature. It just stank. She realized she wasn't a city girl at all. City air sets you free, they say. But the ancient proverb wasn't at all hers. Québec fell on her like an old mouldy blanket, one without holes.