Return to the Fold

The next morning, she took him into the city and they spent the morning furnishing him with a wardrobe fit for a prince. If he was to accompany her in society, she told him, then he would have to dress to the highest standards. The morning totally wore him out and, on returning to the mansion, Aline suggested that he take a warm soothing bath to relax. He had never had a bath before, partly due to his particular condition and partly because of his lifestyle. His daily ablutions consisted generally of sponging himself down with cold or, at best, lukewarm water but the idea of immersing himself in a tub of hot water appealed to him and he instantly accepted the offer.

In his room, he unpacked the silk dressing gown the mistress had bought for him and hung it in the bathroom. There was a full length mirror on one wall and he was able to see his naked body for the first time in his life; apart from a couple of platelets which still clung on, he was entirely normal, just like other people, though his skin was incredibly smooth and totally devoid of hair. The bath itself was big, as befitted its place in the house and he realized that he would be able to stretch out in its vastness. As he lowered himself into the warm water he felt a stinging sensation like he had never felt before but it was not unpleasant. Fully immersed, he breathed in the fragrance of the bath oils and swished his hands around, producing bubbles on the surface. He felt better than he had ever felt before but it soon turned to one of discomfort and he felt as though his entire body was being weighed down. Panic began to take over and he lifted himself out and stood before the mirror. He raised his eyes from the horrific sight of his lower limbs and saw himself in the mirror. A scream of anguish erupted from his throat.

A chamber maid who was passing, fearing the worst, made her way into his room and opened the bathroom door. The cry of horror, which she emitted before fainting, was heard throughout the house and, within moments, Aline was witnessing Mathieu's distressful condition; the previous smooth, pink skin now resembled a mass of white blubber. She quickly threw the dressing gown around his shoulders and led him towards the bed before looking after the chamber maid who was now regaining her senses. A quiet word ensured that her silence would be maintained.

Instructions were given for a doctor to be called and Aline returned to the bathroom to fetch a towel to dry Mathieu and, in passing, pulled the plug to empty the bath tub. The young man was now in a state of shock and shivering, so she gently eased him under the bed clothes to keep him warm. With nothing more to be done until the doctor arrived, she returned to the bathroom with the towel only to discover the two remaining platelets lying in the now empty bathtub. Unsure of what they were but suspecting that they might have something to do with the present situation, she took out her handkerchief and wrapped them up.

The doctor, though admitting he had never witnessed such a condition before, diagnosed a keratin deficiency which meant that Mathieu's skin was not waterproof and his fatty tissue had absorbed the warm water. He recommended that absorbent towels be wrapped around him and predicted that he should recover in a couple of days. Furthermore, it would be best to avoid warm baths and use a shower instead. As he was about to leave, Aline showed him the platelets she had recovered from the bath and asked him if they could be related to the problem.

"Can you leave these with me?" he replied. "I have a friend who specializes in skin conditions and I'd like to ask his opinion on this."

"Certainly," she said, handing the handkerchief over to him. " I have the feeling there is more to our young man than meets the eye."

A couple of days later Mathieu, now fully recovered and dressed in a tuxedo, accompanied Aline to a concert at the Carnegie Hall. The new beau was now the sole subject of discussion. Everyone wanted to meet him and all were amazed at his simplicity and honesty. He was in no way a gigolo, an attention seeker, a gold-digger, and everyone wanted to know more about him. During the interval, Aline introduced him to her good friend Mrs Godbar and her daughter Amelia, an extremely beautiful but demure young woman who blushed when he spoke to her.

"Perhaps I could borrow your young man to help Amy with her French conversation?" asked Mrs Godbar. "I think she could use the help with her studies."

"Oh, most certainly," replied Aline," that is if Mathieu is in agreement."

"J'en serais ravi. I be very happy to help mademoiselle with her studies," Mathieu agreed and as Aline had little need of his services during the afternoon it was decided that he should spend a couple of hours each day with the young woman.

The first two afternoons passed by quickly. He discovered that she was 19, was studying French and history at university and that she had an older brother, John, who a cadet at West Point. It also turned out that her French was much better than her mother imagined and merely required a little help with pronunciation. On his third afternoon, however, things took a turn in a direction he was not sure he wanted to take.

"What is 'rapport sexuel'?" she asked him. He blushed and thought for a moment.

"Is not something young lady should discuss," he answered.

"Oh please, " she pleaded. "I found it in a book and need to know what it means."

"Is when man and woman want make baby. They make 'rapport sexuel'" he replied, somewhat embarrassed by the turn of the conversation.

"And what is 'bite'", she asked. He rose to his feet, obviously upset.

"Is not word for young lady. I go now."

She threw herself on her knees before him and looked up into his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Mathieu. I have upset you. Please don't go."

He looked down at her and saw a look of despair in her eyes. At least he thought it was despair, as at that moment, her right hand moved forward and began to rub his manhood through the fabric of his trousers. Totally shocked, he made to take a step backwards but her left hand shot out and gripped his testicles. He stopped and took a deep breath.

"Mademoiselle!" he cried but got no further. She carried on rubbing him and, noting the reaction, moved her hand and began to unbutton his trousers. Much as he hated what was happening, he had no control over it and his penis soon reached full erection. He tried to think of Marie but the image of her face now eluded him as though departed with the last remaining platelets. He was now a normal man, facing an uncomfortable situation with an extremely desirable young woman.

His clothing now free, she pulled his trousers and pants down around his knees, his manhood, now liberated from its confinement, springing to attention. As the fingers of her left hand jostled the testes contained within the glabrous scrotum, her right hand retracted the foreskin, enabling the tip of her tongue to work its way around the extremity of his penis with an expertise unbefitting her years. Her lips parted and she absorbed him into her mouth with a relentless to-and-fro motion as though trying to suck the very soul from his body. He lost all inhibition and placed his hands on her head, pulling her towards him as he thrust his hips forward, forcing himself deeper each time into her mouth. As she felt his body stiffen, she pulled her head away and stood up.

"I want you inside me, Mathieu," she said and kissed him on the mouth, thrusting her tongue between his lips to meet his own. She pulled away, breathing deeply, her lips apart and her teeth clenched, a look of desire on her face and her eyes ablaze with passion.

"Je veux que tu me baise," she gasped, arching her back onto the table and lifting up her skirt to reveal her sex. She was wearing no underwear and had obviously planned this from the start. "Baise-moi, Mathieu," she cried. "Fuck me!"

Now reduced to the state of a wild animal, he shuffled towards her and, with no thought of foreplay, thrust himself deep within her. He held her hips, his fingers stroking the soft female flesh which he had never felt before. He moved his hands higher, under her dress, discovering the exquisite sensuality of her body under his fingertips.

"Fais-moi mal", she cried to him. "Plus fort! Hurt me. Fuck me harder!"

He pumped harder and deeper into her, drawing gasps of pain and delight from her until, as an enraged bull, he gasped and bellowed, pumping his seed deep within her. His legs went weak and , with nowhere else to go, he dropped down to the floor and lay there gasping for breath, his heart pounding fast. She lay down beside him, kissing him and gently stroking his cheek with her elegant hand.

"Oh, Mathieu. Je t'aime," she whispered in his ear.

That evening, Aline noticed a change in his demeanour. He seemed happier than he had been since he arrived and when she asked him about it he merely replied that he was, indeed, happy. Perhaps it might not last but, God willing, his life might get better. The words came out without thought and he had never spoken of God since his days in school. Indeed, he had always considered that he and people like him were totally ignored by God. Hadn't the people who visited the circus said that he and the other freaks were the spawn of Satan? Perhaps he had unknowingly repented for some sin he had committed and was now redeemed. Whatever it was, he could not get Amelia out of his mind.

Over the next few days they spent their conversation time in bed together, making love more gently than the first time, somewhat to Amelia's disappointment, while she suggested things they could do together, some of which Mathieu found totally abhorrent. He tried his best to inflict pain on her while she was tied up but he could not bring himself to sodomize her. Why would two human beings undertake such an unnatural activity when the whole point of making love was about producing children. Putting it down to her young age, he decided she would soon grow out of it. He arrived one afternoon to discover her in a state of extreme excitement, as her brother John was due home that evening on holiday. For some reason he could not put his finger on, she appeared somewhat sedate in bed, as though lost in thought, and he lay beside her, stroking her silky hair and caressing her immaculate body. One day, he told himself, when his future was more secure, he would ask her to marry him and they would have children, free from any fears of producing monstrosities.

He walked home; 'home' he thought to himself, how extraordinary that, in the space of a few days, he now considered that enormous and opulent mansion to be his 'home'. On arrival, he discovered that Aline was feeling unwell, nothing very serious, she told him, just a head cold. She went to bed early and left him to dine alone, leaving him with a sense of frustration as he wanted to give her the good news about his love for Amelia. The next morning he woke to discover that the doctor had been called as Aline's condition had worsened during the night. Coming face to face with the doctor, he asked for news about her condition, only to be informed that she was merely suffering from influenza and she would be as right as rain within a few days.

"However, " began the doctor, " I'm glad I have met you, eh..."

"Mathieu, monsieur le docteur."

"...Mathieu, I've had a reply from my colleague about your condition and he would like to meet you. Would it be convenient if we visited you tomorrow? Shall we say at 10 am?"

"Certainly, monsieur. I await your visit."

As it was now obvious that madame would not be taking him off to the city that morning, he decided to head off early to visit his darling Amelia and make the acquaintance of her brother John. He was shown into the house and met Mrs Godbar who was apparently on her way out.

"Mathieu, darling. I'm so glad to see you. Amelia never stops talking about you. I seems she is coming on in leaps and bounds with your training. I believe she is upstairs in her room with John. They will be delighted to see you. Must dash!"

She strode out of the front door, leaving Mathieu speechless, as he had understood little of what she had said but he understood that Amelia was in her room. He made his way upstairs and was about to knock on her bedroom door when he heard a cry from an adjoining room. He tiptoed towards the door and listened attentively. Beyond any doubt, it was her voice and the gasps, groans and shouts precluded any possibility that she was holding a normal conversation, while repetitive cries of her brother's name made it clear that they were indulging in abnormal activity between two siblings. His heart told him that he should throw open the door and confront the two of them, no matter what scene of iniquity he might discover, but his head took control and his self-esteem refused to permit himself to be the target of their attacks; he was on foreign ground, the language was not his own and he would find it hard to defend his position, correct though it may be. Worse still might be any attempt by Amelia to justify what was happening and her trying to win back his confidence. In an instant, all of his dreams of happiness had been extinguished and he preferred to abandon Amelia to the past. He walked away from the door, trying to shut out the continuing sounds of ecstasy emerging from the room, and slowly made his way back to the house, a desolate journey in stark contrast to that which he had made less than 24 hours previously.

At lunch, he had little appetite for food but drank a bottle of wine, which did little to raise his spirits and, instead, left a dark cloud of misery hanging over his head. He was totally unprepared for what had just happened and the only person who could help him in his present situation was unwell. He found himself thinking about Marie once again but he could not focus on her face and she seemed no more real than a hairy dog he might have stroked in time of depression. A further bottle of wine consumed that evening ensured that he required the help of the butler to make his way to his room and into bed. Whatever he dreamed about that night disappeared from his mind as soon as he opened his eyes and he woke up the next morning to his first and monumental hangover. He would gladly have spent the rest of the bay in bed but he was reminded that the doctors would be arriving at 10 and so he made an effort to appear respectable, despite the continual pounding in his head.

He was shown along to Aline's room and was delighted to discover that she was feeling somewhat better than the day before. Dr Green, whom he had met before, was present with his colleague whom he introduced as Dr Cummings. To simplify linguistic matters, Aline suggested that she act as translator. Cummings began by explaining that he had had Green's description of the situation and had inspected the platelets which Aline had recovered and, though initially reticent, Mathieu finally gave them the details of his life. Cummings then exposed the details of the disease, which was untreatable, and explained that Mathieu seemed to suffer from an extreme and very rare form of it. What was to follow was not good news.

Cases of milder forms had disappeared in sufferers but this was not due to some miracle cure or remedy but rather the interaction of another disease. Ichthyosis, or fish skin, could go into remission due to the effects of certain types of malignant cancer which severely reduced the production of keratin in the body. Aline gasped in shock when she heard the word, though Mathieu remained unmoved, unaware of what it meant.

"To put it mildly, Mathieu," Cummings continued, "we want you to go into hospital for medical tests."

He spent the next few days undergoing tests during which time it was diagnosed that he was suffering from a tumour on one of his kidneys. Amelia tried to see him but was extremely upset when he refused her visit. The prognosis was extremely favourable and he should make a total recovery but a doubt remained in Aline's mind.

"You did say his condition had gone into remission?" she asked Cummings on the phone. "Does that mean that when the cancer is gone there is a chance his condition may return?"

"I'm afraid it is highly likely it will," he replied.

Mathieu returned to the mansion and spent long days enjoying the gardens. Aline no longer took him out in public to be inflicted with the prejudices of a social class which she found increasingly unsavoury. Soon it became evident that his skin was beginning to harden and crackle and he became a virtual prisoner, secluded in his room. Aline had a table installed so they could continue to eat together but logic told her that this was not a situation which could continue indefinitely. She made a number of phone calls, setting the wheels of a plan in motion and it was one evening that she sat opposite Mathieu, now fully returned to his Snake Boy appearance, and announced to him that she had discovered that the Circus Fantasia would soon be performing just a relatively short distance away. She had been in contact with the owner and he was willing to take Mathieu back.

He broke down and cried like a baby at the news, though whether it was from joy or despair he could not tell. He loved Aline; he had never met anyone so generous and caring in his entire life and the idea of leaving her made him sad but he knew that this place was not for him. He would always be an outcast in the normal world. His place was with the freaks, the monsters, the abominations of this world. Perhaps this had been a dream after all and he would wake up to find himself back in his old camp bed in the tent.

His last week was spent visiting the sights of the region. People looked at the strange character dressed in a suit, wearing gloves and a balaclava, but quickly averted their eyes as the woman who accompanied him was evidently a person of social standing and importance. He could remember no time when he had ever been happier, his moments with Amelia having been confined to the depths of oblivion, but all too soon the time to leave arrived. As though to cast off a shedded skin, he left behind his fine wardrobe of clothes and entered the car carrying only his battered suitcase. During the trip Aline never took her eyes off him.

"Don't you find me hideous?" he asked, "Everyone else does."

"Why would I do that? No matter what you are on the outside, you are a good person inside. You are going back to people who love you and you will find your own type of happiness. Look at me; I am rich, I have a big house, a beautiful car and yet I am lonely. I despise all the people who surround me. I don't belong there any more than you do. I almost wish I could throw it all away and find a circus to take me in."

As the car pulled up at the park where the tents were set up, she gave him a hug.

"If you ever need any help, you know where to find me," she said, handing him an envelope stuffed full of bank notes.

"Merci, Madame," he replied.

"No, not madame. Please call me Aline, just this once."

"Merci, Aline," he said. She planted a kiss on his forehead and tears came to both of them as he opened the door and stepped outside to discover Marie, followed by the rest of the company, forewarned of his return, running towards him. He took her in his arms and spun her around, kissing her passionately before accepting the hugs and welcomes of all the others. Aline looked on for some moments, wiping tears of joy and sadness from her eyes. Mathieu was now back with his own, the prodigal son returned to the family fold and it was with this comforting thought in her mind that she instructed the chauffeur to drive her home.