Chapter 29: Fleur De Lys

"Wow," Angique gasped. "That is one angry woman."

The text lingered on the cell phone's little square until the light died. Angique looked up at Alicia.

"Why would you think she is Anna, honey?" she said. "I never saw her this ... venomous." Alicia shrugged. A wry smile touched her lips.

"My cell gives no caller identity. Maybe she isn't Anna," she said. "With the reputation the woman accuses me of it could be anyone. I must have a lot of enemies. But if it is Anna, I guess I deserve what she says." She blushed and her eyes went down. She fingered the cell phone nervously. Angique closed her hands around hers.

"Alicia," she said. "Now listen carefully to me. I know you are a slut who thinks with her cunt whenever she is seduced. I have no illusions about that anymore. But I also know it was me who almost challenged Anna to seduce you. I used you to make her jealous, just as I have been using Anna to punish you. Then she again used you to pay me back in kind. If anyone is to blame here, it isn't you." Alicia started to object.

"Don't," Angique said, raising her hand. Alicia's mouth stumbled halfway through a soundless protest. Then she sighed.

"I just feel so guilty."

Angique squeezed her hands.

"Don't," she said, again. "This isn't about you. There is no reason for guilt or it must be on Anna's part. She promised me things she could not deliver. She is a proud woman with a large ego that can be easily wounded — too easily for the slave she promised to be."

There was silence. Then Angique groaned with frustration.

"But of course I can't blame Anna. Wouldn't that be too easy, too cowardly? No, it is me!" she said, protracting the "me." "I am the guilty party — and a hypocrite to boot. It was all about you, Licia. I had to have you. And when I couldn't get you, I turned all my pain and frustration on poor Anna. I used her; I just used her — and she retaliated in kind when I dumped her."

Angique once more waved away Alicia's protest. Then she sighed. It made her pale tits press into the half-cups of her leather corset. The Salon was quiet and still almost empty. The tea in their glasses had turned into a dark, cold slush.

"Sweet Licia," Angique went on, her voice warm and soft now. "Please tell me who you really are. You can't be this meek person who is always sorry for the wrongs she inflicts on the world. I won't let you." Her smile removed the irony from her words. Alicia mirrored it with a twitch of her lips. Then she sighed.

"You are so lovable, Angique. But believe me, it is all wasted on me. The texts on my phone are wrong in many ways. I am not a cruel person, but yes, I am weak and I hurt people. I never mean to hurt, though. I am just a confused, silly woman — shallow as you once said. I am only here to forget, but you insist there should be more; that I could be a better person. I never was. I never will be." She shrugged until her shoulders almost touched her earlobes. Her eyes widened to apologize for what she said. It made her look entirely lovable. Angique grabbed both her wrists, pinning them down.

"I love you, Alicia," she said, her voice carrying a tremor. "I know you don't love me, but it doesn't matter. I love you. I must have you. It goes against all logic and wisdom, but it kills me not to have you."

The sudden outburst caused the girl to freeze in her chair. Her eyes dashed left and right — like birds before a cobra. Alicia probably didn't even feel Angique's fingers when they started to undo the upper three buttons of her blouse, pushing up her soft, sheer bra. Only when cool skin touched her exposed nipple, her eyes went down to watch Angique's hand cupping her left breast. A shudder ran through her when fingers started to softly massage her flesh.

"I want to give you a present, Licia," Angique said, her eyes focusing on what her hand did. Her thumb rubbed the nipple, making it swell.

"Would you accept a gift from me?"

Alicia didn't answer. Her emotions were jerked in every direction. She closed her eyes. The tip of her pink tongue showed between her lips.

"Is that a 'yes, ' honey?" Angique asked, wetting her fingers on the girl's peeping tongue. She pushed the fingertips in, feeling soft lips closing around them. They automatically started to suck. She pulled out and returned to the massage of the dark nipple, making it shine with rubbed-in saliva. Angique pinched it and pulled it out. Alicia moaned. Then, just as sudden, Angique abandoned the aroused flesh. Alicia's eyes flew open, puzzled.

"Look," Angique said. Her open hand displayed a piece of jewelry. Its white gold gleamed — or was it silver? Alicia had to focus her eyes, still misted over from her arousal. There was a ring, she saw. Attached to it was a pendant in the shape of a French lily. How did they call it? A fleur de lys. Its setting was white gold too, but the stone at its center sparkled a greenish light — emerald, like Angique's eyes.

"So beautiful," she whispered, tentatively reaching for it. She wondered what it might be — an earring? But there was only one. Then her mind connected her exposed breast with the jewel that lay close to it. She shivered.

"Nooo," she said in awe, breathing the word. An excited tingling gripped her nipple. It stiffened more and pulled the flesh of her oblong areola with it. Goosebumps ran all over her body.

"Oh God, you wouldn't," she said. "Would you?"

"Would I what, honey?" Angique asked, reaching for the nipple with her other hand.

"The true question is," she went on, "would you?"

The moment the elevator doors opened at the floor of Villa, darkness fell over Alicia's eyes. The black velvet of a hood clung to her face, reminding her of a day not long ago. She gasped. The hood smelled of flowers. Small and distant sounds rushed in, amplified by her lack of vision. The beat of her heart pounded in her temples. She forced herself to breathe. Then she reached for Angique's hand to guide her.

There was the familiar creaking of the main door; the clicking of heels on cool marble. Then she noticed the one-sided glow of the fireplace. She felt warm lips touching her throat and a voice whispering, "stop." She stopped, waiting. Hands started taking off her clothes — the torn blouse, the skirt. Fingers carefully rolled down her stockings. Her tits spilled out of her bra and the air caressed her exposed, hairless crotch. She was naked. She felt moisture collecting in the folds of her vagina. The forced helplessness made her feel like she so often did with this woman — scared and yet overwhelmed by an incredible arousal. She wanted to run and yet longed to crawl into Angique with every atom of her body.

The conflict caused her eyes to burn with unshed tears.

"Honey."

The hood made Angique's voice sound muffled and distant. Alicia tried to move her face in its direction.

"My gift will involve pain," the voice went on — toneless, matter of fact. "That pain will be your gift to me in return for my present. The pain is as precious as the jewel — maybe even more precious. Honey..." The voice was closer now. "This is your last chance to refuse."

Alicia kept silent. She was scared, but incapable of responding. Once more she felt like so often with this woman — suspending her reactions, unable to even move. A cool slick object slipped around her throat. She heard a click. Something heavy rested on the base of her neck — was it a collar? Then there was the rattle of a chain — a tug urged her to follow.

She followed.

Doors opened and closed. Cold stone chilled the bare soles of her feet. She was carefully guided down the steps of a spiraling staircase. Sounds caused echoes. The air got chillier, sending shivers down her body. Heavy metal seemed to scrape on stone, as if a large door was opened — and shut again. A last handful of steps led her up to an elevation — a stage? An altar? Hands pushed her into an upright position, forcing her legs to spread. Leather closed around her ankles. Chains rattled. There was a metallic click — and another. She could no longer move her feet.

She felt a kiss on her ass cheek. Then two hands folded her arms behind her back, making her hands grip her upper arms. Cool, soft leather was wrapped around them until they were tied together, forcing her chest out. She exhaled a very scared little moan. It made her breasts shiver — her tits.

Another kiss touched her skin, now right between her ... tits.

"You are so brave," the muffled voice said, followed by a silvery chuckle.

She once more heard the tapping of heels. The sound diminished as Angique obviously left her. There was the scraping of the metal door again, opening, closing. And at last the clicking heels were gone. Silence ruled, filling gradually with tiny creaks and murmurs — sounds that otherwise would have stayed well beyond her level of hearing. Her eyes stared into the hood's darkness as she wondered about the rustling and the scratching she heard — were they scurrying rodents? Insects? Birds even? Or just the sighing of a huge and ancient building? Memories of an earlier spell of waiting returned, but this time she felt no panic, no anger — not even fear. There was just — waiting, a slow and well-known waiting, measured by the beating of her heart. There also was the ice-cold air, seeping into her flesh. But she did not care. She'd learned how to concentrate her warmth, leaving the marble-like outer layers of her body to guard her. She never even shivered.

Horses were able to sleep standing up, she once heard. She wondered if they felt what she felt now. And then she stopped wondering, her thinking becoming too slow to even be aware of her thoughts. Her consciousness became like the static of an abandoned tv-set. A smile stretched her cold lips inside the hood — for no one to see.

She wondered how a statue might feel.

Moist heat closed around her nipples, but they were too numb to feel it. Her skin was like stone, too cold to feel the glowing hands caressing it — her cunt was too icy for the licking tongues. But she thawed and started feeling — trembling. A slow, tortured moan rose from her mouth. In her darkness she felt every glowing inch of naked skin that hugged her — radiating their warmth to seduce her back to life.