Isabel

It was late when Isabel returned from Toronto. She creeped quietly into the house and softly shut the door behind her. She was two steps up the stairs when she heard Marianne quietly call her name from the dark living room.

Marianne turned on the lamp just as Isabel entered the room. She was slumped in one of the easy chairs, covered with an Afghan, her feet up on an ottoman.

"Are you all right?" Isabel asked, "What's wrong?"

Marianne sat up. "Come here, sweetheart. "Sit next to me."

Isabel sat on the end of the couch nearest her sister.

"How was Toronto?" Marianne asked.

"It was lovely," Isabel said, "But tell me why you're sleeping downstairs."

"I was waiting for you to get home so we could talk."

Isabel put her hand on Marianne's arm. "What is it, dear heart?"

"I did not want to spoil your trip, so I waited until you came back." She paused, sighed deeply, then said, "A week ago I discovered a lump in my left breast. On Friday, I received the biopsy results."

"Oh Marianne, no..."

"It is malignant. I begin chemotherapy on Wednesday."

Tears ran down Isabel's cheeks as she grasped Marianne's hand between hers.

"Don't cry," Marianne said, "My prospects are good. You will help me, and we will defeat this."

"I will do anything for you."

"I know that. You are a good sister."

Isabel shook her head. "No, I'm really not."

Marianne waved her hand dismissively. "You are who you are, and I would not have you change. Do you know that I love you very much?"

"I do. Do you know that I love you very much?"

"I know it like I know the sun will come up in the morning."

Marianne rose from the chair, and Isabel stood to help her.

"Don't do that," Marianne said. "I am not an invalid."

They went up the stairs to their bedrooms. Isabel lay awake a long time. She could not imagine what she would do if something were to happen to Marianne. When their parents had died, it was her sister who held her, comforted her, taught her that life would go on. If she lost Marianne, who would be there for her?

CHAPTER FOUR

The sun was shining into the room when Isabel woke up. She stretched and yawned, then snuggled against Natalie's back and kissed her shoulder.

"Welcome back," she murmured.

Natalie sighed and rolled over to face her. They kissed, and then she nestled her head against Isabel's breasts. They cuddled for a while, then she got up and started the coffee maker.

"Oh, did I tell you that Arturo called me?" she asked.

Isabel laughed. "Perhaps his other girls have cast him aside."

"Well, I have been thinking about that."

"How so?"

"I am not interested in marrying him or anything like that. So, if he treats me alright, and I enjoy going to bed with him, why should it matter to me if he sees others?"

"So, you are going to see him?"

"I think so. And he asked me about you."

"The dirty bastard," Isabel said, laughing.

"Oh, not like that," Natalie said with a grin, "He thought that you might like to meet his friend."

"I met one of his friends, it didn't last."

Natalie's expression turned serious. "But did you really want it to?"

Isabel considered that for a moment. "No, I really didn't. We had a good time for a while, and it ended. I have no regrets."

"Maybe that's the way it should be," Natalie said. "I mean, isn't that the way men usually look at us?"

"Surely, not all men."

"No, but a lot of men with money do."

"I remember when you were worried that we were whores for fucking Max."

"And you said that it was the same as any date where the man paid, he just paid more."

"That's true, I did," Isabel nodded.

"So, if that is true, then why should we date men who can't spend more?"

"You make a good point."

"And Arturo and his friends have money. So, he wants me to go with him to a party on Saturday. Shall I tell him that you will be his friend's date?"

"Alright," Isabel said. Natalie bent forward and kissed her.

"I will tell him that his friend is a very lucky man."

****

Arturo's car pulled up in front of Natalie's dormitory. He got out of the driver's seat and his friend stepped out on the passenger side. Arturo and Natalie hugged, then Arturo gestured for the other man to come forward.

"James, this is Isabel," he said. James was younger than she had expected. He was not particularly handsome, but had a cheerful round face that she found pleasant. He shook her hand, then opened the back door for her. She got in and he came around to the other side.

They made small talk on the way to the party. Isabel learned that James was the scion of a very wealthy family. His father was a top executive at the Royal Bank of Canada, his mother was related to the Molson family. When she asked him what he did, he just chuckled and shrugged.

Arturo turned into a long circular driveway and stopped in front of a huge Victorian mansion. A parking valet took the car and the men escorted Natalie and Isabel into the house.

A uniformed servant stood just inside the door with a tray of champagne in crystal flutes. James took two and handed one to Isabel. He held out his arm and she took it, sipping her champagne as he led her into the mansion's ballroom.

As they circulated through the crowd, Isabel caught Natalie's eye, and raised one brow. Natalie smiled back at her, and Isabel knew they were sharing the same thought; if you are going to date men, why not date men with money?

Many of the guests greeted James and Arturo warmly. Isabel noticed something interesting, though. There was a subtle difference between how they spoke to each man. They treated Arturo like a celebrity guest, but James was one of them. Even among the wealthy, there were distinctions of rank and status.

They did not stay long at the party. Arturo spent some time speaking to someone who Isabel took to be an art dealer, while James stood by kibitzing, and she and Natalie browsed the hors d'oeuvres table.

"I get nervous in places like this," Natalie whispered to Isabel, "I can't help thinking everyone knows I don't belong."

Isabel shrugged. "You just have to always act like you do. People won't question you, because if they are wrong, they will be the ones who are embarrassed."

The discussion with the art dealer ended, and they left the party, piling back into Arturo's car. When he got in, James slid across the seat until he and Isabel sat hip to hip, and casually laid his hand on her thigh. She smiled and made no effort to rebuff him, but she was finding him dull, and did not expect she would want to see him again.

"So, where will we go now?" Natalie asked Arturo.

Arturo looked back over his shoulder at James. "Shall we go to that club we went to a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yes, we should," James replied enthusiastically.

"A dance club?" Natalie asked.

"No," Arturo said, "Something different from that."

Isabel was puzzled as he drove to a part of town dominated by industrial facilities. He pulled into an alleyway behind a large warehouse. There were cars parked all along the side of the building, and a few knots of people standing about.

"This is a club?" Natalie asked.

"Yes," James said as they got out of the car. "It is called The Black Rose."

They went to the door and entered a long hallway. At the far end, a young woman stood behind a hostess stand. A burly man in a tight black t-shirt stood behind her.

"She is wearing a dog collar," Natalie whispered to Isabel.

James spoke with the woman, and handed her some cash. She waved them through, and the burly man opened the door.

They entered a cavernous, dimly lit space, dotted with small pools of red and blue light. There was a bar to the left side, surrounded by a tangle of round tables. The rest of the room was crowded, many of the people grouped around the lit areas. Techno music played loud enough to nearly drown out all conversation.

They went to the bar and shouted to get drinks, then waded into the crowd. Isabel could not see beyond the nearest people, but James took her hand and led to an open area.

In a blue glow, she saw a naked man, his arms raised above his head, shackled to the cross beam of a wooden frame. He was blindfolded and gagged. A tall blonde woman was standing beside him, hitting him on the ass with a large leather strap.

Isabel looked up at James. He smiled back at her, his eyes wide with excitement. She smiled back, more tentatively. She watched the woman strapping the man. That actually could be fun, she thought, and she liked the woman's leather outfit.

James pulled her away and they moved on to where two men were tying a woman up in an elaborate bondage configuration. At another spot, a man was using a wooden paddle to spank a woman who was cuffed to a wooden post.

Somewhere along the way, they lost track of Natalie and Arturo. Thinking they may have gone for another drink, they made their way back to the bar. Not seeing them, they refreshed their drinks and found seats at one of the tables.

Isabel looked up from her drink and saw a couple come through the door. The man was remarkably handsome, tall, slender and broad shouldered. He had wavy dark hair and fine chiseled features. He was carrying a large black leather bag. His companion was a beautiful raven haired woman. She wore a sleek white full length gown that was low cut and clung to her hips. The man raised her hand and held it as he led her across the room. Isabel was disappointed when she lost sight of them in the crowd.

Natalie and Arturo rejoined them at the table. The men conversed, shouting loudly into each other's ears and laughing.

Isabel could not stop thinking about the elegant couple. When she saw Natalie gesture with her head towards Arturo and James and feign a yawn, she tapped James on the shoulder and shouted that they were going to the lady's room.

They found the bathrooms near the front door and went inside.

"Finally I can hear what someone has to say," Natalie said when the door shut behind them.

As they sat in side by side booths, Isabel said, "Well, this is quite an interesting place they have brought us to."

"It is," Natalie replied, "I don't know if I want to run away or become a regular customer."

"Did you see a really handsome man and a woman in a white dress come in?"

"No, there was a woman fucking a man's ass with a big dildo, so you know Arturo wanted to watch that."

"I guess we know what you'll be doing later tonight."

When they exited the bathroom, Natalie started toward their table, but Isabel took hold of her hand and pulled her in the other direction. They weaved their way through the crowd until Isabel saw the woman in the white dress. She was facing a large X shaped wooden frame, her hands cuffed to it above her head. Isabel moved closer and saw the handsome man securing her ankles to the bottom legs of the X. He rose and put his hands on her shoulders, leaned close and speak into her ear.

Whatever he said to the woman, she nodded her head. He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulders, the side of her face. Her head lolled back and he whispered to her again.

Suddenly, with a swift motion that startled Isabel, he gripped the top of the woman's dress and ripped it down the middle of her back. He reached around her, his hands beneath the torn fabric and appeared to be touching her breasts. He pressed his groin against her, speaking to her again. After a minute or two, he took the right shoulder of her dress between his hands and tore it. The fabric dropped down her arm. He ripped the other sleeve and the top of her tattered dress tumbled to her waist and hung on her hips.

Isabel glanced at Natalie. She was staring at the couple, her mouth hanging open. Isabel imagined that her own expression was similar.

The man pressed his body against the woman's back, and this time when he reached around her, his hands went down below her waist. Isabel could see the woman's legs trembling and thought that she must be close to an orgasm, but the man abruptly turned and stepped away. He squatted down over the leather bag and pulled out a long black leather flogger.

Turning back to the woman, he grasped her dress and yanked hard, tearing it away. The woman hung on the crossed beams, naked but for a pair of thigh high stockings and her stiletto heels.

He spoke to the woman again and in response she arched her back and tilted her ass upward. He stepped away and dragged the tails of the flogger slowly over the curve of her hip.

Isabel felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head reluctantly.

"We are going to be leaving now," James shouted. Isabel sighed and nodded. As she turned to go with James, she looked back over her shoulder. The man was softly swinging the fogger, just tapping the woman's ass with its tips. I want that, she thought, I want to know how all of that feels.

****

Isabel did not tell Natalie that she was going back to the Black Rose. She was not sure if that was because she was embarrassed to admit that she was fascinated with the things they had seen there, or because she wanted to be free to indulge herself if the opportunity arose. Natalie could be a bit of a mother hen.

She had not been sure that they would grant her entry, but the woman at the door waved her through without hesitation. And why wouldn't she? Pretty girls in tiny dresses were certainly good for business.

She took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of ginger ale. She was wary about drinking when she was alone in a public place. It was not as crowded as it had been the week before, but it was earlier in the evening. She nursed her drink and watched as the club filled up. Two men and a leather clad woman each offered to buy her drinks, but she politely declined.

She was not sure what she would do if the man did not show up. She thought about asking around about him, but she realized that this was the kind of place where people would be very close mouthed about sharing information. It occurred to her that the bartender would likely know him. If she described him and gave him her contact information, he might pass it on.

But then she saw him. He was standing just inside the door, talking to another man and smiling broadly. She glanced around but did not see anyone with him. The realization that he had come alone excited her, but scared her as well. She had assumed that he would bring a woman, the one she had seen him with, or someone new. She had thought that she would try to introduce herself to him anyway, in hope of catching his interest for a future encounter. Seeing him alone, she realized there was no excuse for her to get cold feet about approaching him.

He moved in the direction of the bar, stopping again and speaking to another man.

It probably would not have been any problem to find someone who knows him, Isabel realized, chuckling to herself.

He ordered a drink, and as he took his first sip, they made eye contact. With a great effort of will, Isabel held it. He tipped his glass to her and she smiled.

Without hesitation, he came to her. "I don't believe we've met," he said. When he smiled, Isabel thought he was even more handsome.

"I've only been here once before," she said, "My name is Isabel."

He held out his hand and when she raised hers, he took it and kissed it.

"Jules Martel," he said, "I'm very pleased to meet you. May I buy you a drink?"

She nodded and he signaled the bartender, who brought her another ginger ale.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to assume you have an interest in the sort of things we do at this club?"

"Well, I'm not sure what all that might entail, but I did see something that intrigued me, which is why I returned."

"You must have been quite intrigued. It's unusual for women to attend unaccompanied. Can I ask what it was that captured your imagination?"

"That's fair," Isabel replied. "Because it was you and the woman you had bound to that X contraption."

"It is called a Saint Andrew's cross."

"And now, I have learned my first lesson in your arts."

Jules laughed. "Perhaps the first of many."

"I would need a good teacher."

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked.

"Of course not."

He perched on the stool next to her and ordered another drink. Isabel expected him to ask her more about her kinky interests or sexual experiences, and was pleasantly surprised to find out that he was interested in just learning more about her.

"I'm in my senior year at McGill," she told him, "Majoring in business administration."

They made small talk for a while, but as the crowd grew, the volume of the music increased and it became hard to hear each other. Jules leaned closer to be heard.

"Your interest in what you saw last week," he asked, "Does it rise to the level of wishing to experience it yourself?"

Isabel hesitated only a few seconds before answering yes, quickly adding, "I need to wear this dress home, though."

"You have my word no harm will come to you or your garments. Shall we see if the equipment is available?"

Isabel nodded but said, "You don't have your black bag with you."

"It is in the trunk of my car." He stood, took her hand and led her through the crowd. Isabel felt a rush of excitement when she saw the Saint Andrews cross, and saw that it was unoccupied.

Jules put his hand on the small of her back and positioned her facing it.

He lowered his lips to her ear and said, "I shall get my bag and return in a few minutes. I want you to stand here in this position. Please put your hands behind your back."

Isabel obeyed him, and felt a tingle of excitement that she had.

"I'll expect you to be standing here in this position when I get back. If you are, I will know that you have agreed to submit to me for the evening. If that is not your desire, I would ask that you go to the bar and we will share a drink and part as friends. Do you understand?"

Isabell nodded and said yes.

"From now on that will be 'yes sir'."

Isabel mumbled, "Yes, sir," but realized he had already left.

She took deep breaths while she waited for him to return, determined to rein in her nervousness. This was a public place, he couldn't do anything to harm her in front of all these witnesses. And something about his confident demeanor was reassuring. Still, she regretted that she had not asked Natalie to come with her. It would have been good to know she had someone trusted watching over her.

It could not have been more than a few minutes before Jules returned, but it felt much longer to Isabel. He stepped behind her, placed his hands on her hips, then ran them up her back, and slowly pulled down the zipper of her dress. She shrugged her shoulders and let it fall.

He deftly unfastened the clasps of her brassiere. As she removed it, he knelt behind her and lifted her feet, one by one from the tangle of her dress. He put a hand on each of her ass cheeks, softly squeezed them, then hooked his fingers into the sides of her thong and pulled it down.

Isabel watched from the corner of her eye as he opened his bag. His back was turned to her and she could not see what he was doing. She wondered what sort of things he might pull out.

He rose and told her to lean forward against the cross. When she had done so, she watched as he strapped a wide fur-lined leather cuff around her right wrist. He adjusted it until it was snug, but not too tight, then repeated the process with her left wrist. He raised both her arms and clipped the cuffs on either side of the wooden cross.

She tugged at the the restraints, testing them. They were secure. She felt Jules moving her legs apart. He attached similar cuffs to her ankles and fastened them in place. While he worked, she looked over her shoulder and saw that there were at least a dozen people gathered around, looking at her naked body. She felt embarrassed, but there was something in that embarrassment that was titillating.