Chapter 7: Alfred’s end

“I still can’t believe how small it is,” May said. “It’s got to be some sort of disease. I can’t believe it even works.”
“But it does work,” Phryne said. “And it looks like he can use it. Is that right Alfred? Did you enjoy that? Fucking us with your little dick?”

There was no good answer, so I might as well go with the truth.
“Yes.”
They giggled.
“You want to do it again?”
I felt disgusted, frightened.
“I can’t do it again.”
“Oh, can’t you?”

Then one of the girls, I could not immediately tell which, lay by my side and started to caress my shriveled organ, but much more gently this time, as if she had finally taken pity on me.
“Sophie?”

Beloved lips kissed me and I understood nothing. She took off my blindfold and she was there, sitting on the bed on a little white dress, smiling.
“Isn’t he great?” she asked.
“He’s fine.” Her three friends stood by the foot of the bed, in bathing robes, still looking at my nudity. By now I was beyond modesty; I just blinked stupidly at the light.
“You saw it all?” I asked, dumbly.
“I watched it all, Alfred. Lover.”
“She was seated in that armchair,” May said.

There was indeed an armchair in the corner, and just by it a camera on a tripod. Phryne had a smaller one in her hand, which they must have taken turn operating. She brandished it.
“Yes, we recorded you, all of it. It was a good show. And if you keep everything that happened here to yourself, we’ll keep it to yourself. Our little secret.”
The other too giggled at the word little, and again I felt bashful.
“What matters,” Sophie said, “is that my friends approve of you. Of us.”
“I do,” said May.
“I do,” said Phryne.
“I do,” said June. “Barely. So it’s a deal. You’re Sophie’s now. Completely hers.”

I knew then that the episode I had experienced would go unmentioned in the future, but not unremembered. Every dinner with the Quartet, every outing, every chance meeting, I would be in the presence of women who had seen my nakedness and my shame, and abused me. I did not quite look forward to it.

They looked at each other and Phryne spoke up: “Since we looked at you I think it’s fair you get one last look at us, bachelor.”
They had done a lot more than look, thought I. But when she disrobed I was stunned by her lithe body. Her skin was a very dark brown, and completely black areolas tipped her narrow breasts.
“Do you want to touch them?” she asked.

Now that my eyes were uncovered she was looking at them searchingly, judgingly, as if gauging every move and decision I made in light of the time I had spent between her legs. But of course the answer was yes.I looked at Sophie, who nodded, and extended my arm. Phryne stopped me.
“Just one last thing, Alfred, you have to choose. You can touch me once, anywhere, and then never again. But just in one place, no more.”

I looked her beautiful body up and down; there were so many places where I wanted to put my hand. In fact the thought just to touch her skin, anywhere, maddened me.
“What do you chose, Alfred? Do you want to touch my pussy?”