O-A Little Later Ch. 07

"As dawn was staining the eastern sky he closed the rear door and drove back to the studio. I was left exhausted on the floor, covered in seed, saliva and worse. Their fluids leaked from my bruised mouth, sex and rear, both of which were stretched such that they would need hours to reclose.

"He took me in this state to the plinth and began to work in a frenzy. I think he saw a sexual glow in my abused state that he wanted to capture. He did not include the marks left on me by the fingers, fists and belts of those that had taken me that night. He carved for a couple of hours then snatched some food and fell dead asleep on his bed. I eased myself down from the plinth and its phallus, found some food and crawled to wash myself before wrapping myself in a rough blanket and falling into unconsciousness. Always I had Jeanne's cold eye on me, looking for my suffering".

As she was speaking I was moving my hand across those parts of the statue that I could reach, caressing the entry point of the shaft, the wide-flung thighs and the brand marks I knew so well in those stone haunches. The sculptor was a genius, clearly he knew that the sexual abandonment he subjected her to would be transmitted to the art work.

I was in a reverie and it was some time before I realised that O had stopped speaking. I turned to look for her, and once again lost my breath.

She had laid her coat on the dewy grass and was kneeling naked in the pose of the statue, facing to the moon and showing that same rapture. I went to her, crouched down and ran my damp, icy fingers across her breasts, shoulders and face. I dragged my fingers through her thick rich hair. Her skin was dimpled with the cold, her nipples were like rocks and a tremor was beginning in her core.

I shoved her roughly back on the lush fur and tore open my pants. Her thighs opened wetly and I drove into her. After my initial violence was spent, I took her slowly and with gentleness, to which she softened and responded until we climaxed as one.

"Monsieur," she breathed, when we had recovered a little," today is 15 Novembre, my forty-seventh birthday. As my gift, I offer myself to you in that most complete way. Despite my slave's heart, I have wealth, property and a body with which to worship you. You have seen the depths to which I have been plunged, yet you seem to understand the meaning behind my life. All I have done and endured has been by my own choice, with my consent to be used

"I have come to realise that Sir Stephen had become a dream that I had pinned my hopes to. He will never return to me, had probably given me up at the time he passed me to Eric's hands. Earlier this year Rene came to visit me and my daughter at my apartment. He was much greyer, yet he stirred that need within me- I had to sit stiffly to avoid throwing myself at his feet begging to be used by him. He told us that Sir Stephen had never returned to France to avoid the consequences of some business arrangements and was now dead of a gunshot in his home in Indonesia.

"His will had made Rene his executor, and mentioned the daughter I had borne him. He was there to offer my girl the benefit of the large estate, and to tell me that his apartment I had used was now mine. She is to pursue the career she has chosen in photography, and will study in Scotland for the next two years, in the town house she now has to use.

"I know little about you, except that you are the firm master that I crave. I see you have an honest heart, I have seen through many men in the past to their crooked souls. You are older than I, yet strong, intelligent and handsome. I would be proud to be yours."

My head spun at the enormity of the options open to me. My life on the other side of the planet seemed a distant detail at this moment.

Some hours later, we woke the sleeping driver and bade him return us to the city. As he drove through the dark countryside she leaned lovingly towards me, naked beneath the fur.

I was tired, yet satisfied. In my minds eye she was still strapped naked to the dusty columns in the Music Room, her legs splayed as I stood astride her and laid the multi-corded lash to her tender smooth skin. I was pleased of the sound-proofing as her cries rose with abandon.

As I lay with her, stroking her reddened skin with my fingertips and feeling her breathing return to normal, that question came back to me. "What name did you give to her?"

"Why, Stephanie, of course! Though lately she calls herself Stevie, like that American girl" and she laughed happily.

Sometimes it is better to give oneself to the will of another, to take unplanned paths, to abandon possessions, ego and history and follow down that rabbit hole...

Th- th- th -that's all folks. Thanks for your comments.