Isabel

When she finished and opened the stall door, she saw Natalie leaning on the sink, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Oh good," she said, "Mom's here."

Natalie ignored the snide comment. "Isabel, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, "Can I please wash my hands? And what's the etiquette with these things? Is it okay that I took it out, or should I have asked permission?"

Natalie moved aside. "Show me your ass."

"You've seen my ass plenty of times."

"He hit you pretty hard with that strap. Show me."

Isabel dried her hands and lifted the back of her dress.

"You've got welts. Did you like it when he did that? I mean, spanking I understand, it's playful."

"I didn't like it, no."

"Then why did you let him do it to you?"

"Because I like that he did it."

"That makes no sense. You didn't like it, but you liked him doing it?"

Isabel stared at her own eyes in the mirror, and then at Natalie's. "We are graduating in the spring..."

Natalie scowled. "What does that have to do with it?"

"I majored in business because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I still don't. I'm definitely not interested in a business career."

"Alright, but..."

"Let me finish. I lost my parents when I was a little girl. I have a brother that despises me. My sister, who I love more than anything in the world, has fucking cancer."

She turned to speak directly to Natalie.

"When I came here last week looking for Jules, I knew what I wanted, even if I could not articulate it. I wanted to be taken out of myself, to give control to someone else, and at least for a little while, he did exactly that. I was in another world, where all those other things just left my mind."

Natalie opened her arms. "Come here, sweetheart," she said.

They embraced and Natalie said, "I just want you to be careful."

"I will. Thank you for worrying, but please, stop it."

When Isabel returned to the bar, she was surprised to see Jules in conversation with the older man who had been watching them. They both smiled at her as she approached.

"Isabel, I would like you to meet my good friend, Charles," Jules said.

Charles took her hand and kissed it. "I am delighted to meet you," he said.

"Thank you."

Charles looked back at Jules. "As you know, my friend, I do not share all of your erotic interests, but by God, I admire your taste in women."

Jules handed Isabel a drink and Charles offered a toast.

They drank, then Charles set his empty glass on the bar. "I am certain that chatting with an old man was not on your list of things to do this evening, so I shall take my love."

He tipped his head to each of them, then turned away.

"He seems like a lovely man," Isabel said to Jules after they had said their goodbyes.

"Yes, he is," Jules replied, "Unless you have to face off against him in a court of law."

"He's a lawyer?"

"Charles Fournier is one of the top corporate litigators in Canada."

"You have not told me what you do for a living."

"I develop commercial real estate."

"Like shopping malls?"

"No, dear, not like shopping malls. Would you like another drink?"

"No," she said, I am feeling pretty drained. I wonder if we could go."

"Would you like to come to my apartment for the night?"

"I would love to, but my sister is very ill and I need to check in on her."

Jules nodded sympathetically. "Of course," he said, "There will be other times."

As they walked towards the exit, Isabel glanced around the room. She saw Natalie and Arturo sitting at a table with a group of people. Arturo was engaged in an animated conversation. Natalie was watching her.

****

Isabel did not take Natalie's concerns lightly. Over the next week she spent a good deal of her spare time on the internet, reading about dominant/submissive relationships and the BDSM lifestyle. She had to acknowledge that Jules did not seem to do things by "the rules", but on the other hand, she was skeptical about the notion that passion could, or should, be bound by rules in the first place.

On Thursday she was sitting in the waiting room of the cancer clinic. She heard a bell ringing, and looked up to see the door to the treatment area open, and Marianne walk out smiling. A small group of nurses followed her. They began to clap their hands, and the receptionist and other people in the waiting room stood and joined them.

Isabel rose and Marianne came to her. They hugged. "You did it, honey," Isabel whispered in her sister's ear.

"Done with chemo," Marianne said. She kissed Isabel, then went to the nurses and thanked them, one by one.

"How do you feel?" Isabel asked on their drive home.

"Better than I have in a long time," Marianne said. "We must be cautious though. Remission does not mean cured."

"No, but it means you're better."

"Yes, it does, but now, my dear, let's talk about you."

"I'm fine."

"I don't doubt it, but somethings going on with you the last couple of weeks. Is it this new man you're going out with?"

Isabel didn't answer for a minute, then nodded and said, "Yes. It seems like it's getting rather intense pretty fast."

"Too fast?"

"How do you know when it's right to be cautious and when you should just charge ahead?"

"You never know, I guess. You just have to take your chance when the opportunity comes."

Isabel forced herself to grin, but said nothing. Marianne had never taken any such chance, as far as she knew. She felt sad that she could not tell her sister that she knew her secrets, and how much she loved her and accepted her for the person she was, but if that conversation ever occurred it would have to be Marianne who started it.

With Marianne's treatment finished and her health improved, Isabel felt free to spend more time with Jules. He has been patient, but she did sense that he was disappointed that, while she was attending the Black Rose with him weekly, she had not agreed to see him more often.

On the first weekend after Marianne finished her chemotherapy, Jules picked Isabel up after her last class, and she went home with him for the weekend.

He lived in a spacious modern high-rise apartment with a spectacular view of the river. Except for a few hours at the Black Rose on Saturday night, they did not leave it until he took her home late on Sunday.

It was a weekend of many first experiences for Isabel. Jules aimed to introduce her to the widest range of fetishistic delights. She learned that, while she enjoyed being cuffed and blindfolded for sex, she did not care for more elaborate bondage. Nor did she like having her nipples clamped or having hot wax dripped on her.

She enjoyed spanking and flogging, as long as they were not too severe, but what she enjoyed most was his forceful, commanding approach to sex. He was rough, but always in control. He seemed to possess a sixth sense for her arousal, always knowing how to incite it, manipulate it, satisfy it.

When they were not engaged in sexual activities, they prepared meals together in Jules' well stocked kitchen. They listened to music; Jules had an impressive knowledge of opera and taught her the rudiments of appreciating it. Mostly they talked; about places they would like to travel, favorite films, life in general.

At one point on Sunday morning, Isabel told him that she was frustrated that she had not been able to decide what she wanted to do after graduation.

"Why do you need to do one thing?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I mean my profession, my career. I majored in business but it doesn't much interest me."

"So what does?"

Isabel thought for a moment. "I am tempted to say nothing, but the truth is, everything. So much so that no one thing calls to me for long."

"There is one thing, I suspect."

"You mean sex?"

Jules shook his head. "That is a limited view. Not sex, but more broadly, the exploration of pleasure."

Isabel laughed. "If only I could earn a degree in that."

"What is the purpose of life, Isabel? Do not most people live lives in which they work and make sacrifices in order to, as the Americans say, pursue happiness?"

"I suppose they do."

"Then why is it that when the laborer toils to attain a brief respite of pleasure, we consider that noble, but when a woman like yourself achieves it through grace and beauty, we castigate her?"

"Because he earned it. His leisure time was purchased by his labor."

"But you do not just take pleasure, you give it as well. Is that not also a fair exchange?"

Isabel had no ready answer and she spent a great deal of time contemplating their discussion.

With Jules occupying her weekends, she saw less of Natalie. Still, they managed to lunch together a couple of times each week.

"So things are going well?" Natalie asked her one day over croissants and espresso at a little coffeehouse on Rue University.

"Going very well," Isabel said.

"I'm glad and if my worrying was for nothing, I'm pleased. By the way, I have a date with someone new next weekend. If it goes well, then perhaps after that we could double date. It's been a while, honey."

Isabel felt uncomfortable. "I will certainly talk to Jules about it, but it seems like he just wants the two of us doing things together."

"That's not a good sign, Isabel."

"I think it's natural in a new relationship."

Natalie laughed. "Darling, you're no expert on relationships. And is that what you're calling it now?"

Isabel thought for a minute. "I suppose I am. But tell me, who is this new man you're seeing?"

"His name Emilio Diaz. His father is something or other at the Spanish consulate."

"Well off, I presume."

"Very."

"So, you have graduated from dating rich men to rich foreign men."

"Rich, young, foreign men."

"My God, you have found the magic formula!"

When Isabel suggested going out with Natalie and Emilio to Jules, he smiled and told her it sounded like a fine idea, but when she and Natalie made arrangements he said, "I am afraid we will not be able to do that."

"But I asked you, and you said you would love to do it."

"You did not specify a date. I have already made other plans."

Isabel noticed a subtle change in the tone of his voice. He had switched into his dominant mode.

"Very well," she said, "I will have to tell her we will do it another time."

The following week she brought it up again, and again he had an excuse to decline. When she called Natalie to inform her, she could hear anger in her friend's voice.

"Perhaps you should be considering whether or not he's deliberately trying to keep us apart," Natalie snapped.

"I don't believe he is," Isabel said, although she had considered that possibility.

"Well, is it just me? It sounds like he's isolating you from everyone, to keep you solely to himself."

Isabel changed the subject and quickly, but politely, ended the conversation. That evening, during supper, she raised the issue with Jules again.

"Isn't this your friend who told you it was wrong for you to be with me in the first place?" he asked.

Isabel shook her head. "No, she did not say that. She just said that I rushed into it without taking proper precautions."

"So she believes me to be a danger to you."

Isabel tried to hide her frustration. "She doesn't really know anything about you."

"Then why should she try to divide us? All I can think is that she want you all to herself."

"She says the same of you."

"Again, judging me with no knowledge of who I am. She's not just your friend, Isabel, Haven't you been lovers?"

"Well, in a way."

"Can you see this from my point of view? I feel we are building something special, you and I. Is it not reasonable that I be concerned about your ex-lover involving herself in our business?"

Isabel could not think of a response. He had made her question not only Natalie's motivations, but her own. It was clear to her that Jules expected her to make a commitment to him. Was she using Natalie as a hedge against doing so?

Jules reached across the table and put his hand on hers. "Isabel, I have no intention of keeping you from your friend, but nothing will work between you and I if I do not feel that our relationship is your priority."

Isabel nodded. "It is my priority," she said. She did not bring up Natalie again.

The next time they met for lunch, Isabel and Natalie said little to each other, and the following week they did not meet at all.

As the weeks passed, she spent even more time with Jules, until she was sleeping more nights at his apartment than at home. In December, they flew to Jamaica during the holiday break. In January they spent a long weekend at Mont Tremblant, where his attempts to teach her to ski met with limited success.

Most weeks, they still attended the Black Rose on Saturday nights. Jules would sometimes invite others, usually dominant women, but occasionally men, to join in their play. One night, he allowed Isabel to assist one of the women in dominating her male submissive. Isabel enjoyed learning how to be at the other end of the flogger.

"I think we will be careful, you may have enjoyed that more than I would prefer," Jules said, laughing.

Isabel thought of Natalie and how she had dominated Arturo, and she felt a tug of regret that they had not spoken for several months. When that still gnawed at her the next day, she called her, but her phone number was out of service. She thought of looking for her on campus, but as the days went by, she could not get up the nerve to do so.

CHAPTER SIX

Jules had told Isabel that he had something different planned for the weekend, but did not tell her details until they were finishing their supper on Friday night.

"Do you recall meeting my friend Charles at the Black Rose?" he asked her.

"Yes, that very charming older gentleman."

"He has a country estate about an hour from here, near Lake Champlain. He occasionally has parties there, and this weekend he has opened the house for spring and he has invited us."

"That sounds lovely."

"Yes, well, his parties are known for their hedonism, although he does not play the kind of games we do."

"So, like a swingers party sort of thing?"

"I really don't like that term," Jules said with a frown, "But yes, along those lines."

"Is it people pairing up and going off together or is it a group orgy or something?"

"I believe it is some of each. And also, wonderful food in a beautiful country setting."

"Sounds like fun."

"Very good. We will leave mid-morning tomorrow and be there in time for lunch."

Saturday was one of the first warm days of spring. As they drove through the countryside, Isabel enjoyed the early signs of greenery along the road. It was beautiful, but she couldn't imagine living away from the city. Where could one even get a good cup of cappuccino?

They readily found the Fournier estate, and turned into a long drive, passing a wooden fenced paddock, where a small herd of horses grazed.

"Are those his horses?" Isabel asked.

"Yes, he breeds thoroughbreds," Jules replied.

"Perhaps he could teach me to ride."

"He might. I could lend you a riding crop."

They parked in front of a large Georgian mansion and got their bags from the trunk of Jules' Mercedes. Charles stepped out of the door as they mounted the porch steps.

"Welcome," he said in a jovial voice. He shook Charles's hand, then took Isabel's overnight bag from her.

"I apologize that there's no one here to help with your luggage," he said, "When I have guests, I give the staff the weekend off, for the sake of privacy." He turned toward the door, then looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "Except for the kitchen staff, of course."

He took them inside and led them up a broad marble staircase, then down a long, wood paneled hall, stopping at the last door on the right.

"As early arrivals, you'll get one of the better rooms," he said, swinging the door open.

It was not just a room, it was a suite, comprised of a sitting room, a full bathroom and a large bedroom with a king size four poster bed. Isabel looked out the bedroom window. Directly below her was a terraced garden, showing the first signs of new life. Beyond the garden was a wide expanse of manicured lawn and, behind another rough hewn wooden fence, thick woods.

"This is a beautiful room," Isabel said.

"Well that is only fitting, is it not?" Charles replied. "Now, feel free to relax if you'd like or come downstairs. Brunch is on the table in the sunroom."

They'd only had a light breakfast, so Isabel and Jules followed Charles downstairs. When they entered the sunroom, the light was so strong that Isabel had to blink her eyes. As they adjusted to the brightness, she looked around. The room was bursting with green, from a variety of parlor palms, umbrella trees and hanging spider plants.

In the center of the room, a long glass topped table was surrounded with cushioned wicker chairs. A couple sat near the far end. Isabel was surprised to see that the woman was probably around fifty. She was attractive, with piercing blue eyes and long straight silver hair. She wore a half dozen strands of pearls around her throat. Her companion was a young man, perhaps younger than Isabel. He had a trim body and close cropped blonde hair.

Charles introduced them as Sophia and David. He took a seat at the head of the table and gestured for Jules and Isabel to sit down across from the other couple.

The table was covered with platters of pastries and cut fruit. Charles picked up a pitcher of sangria and poured them each a glass.

"Isabel was admiring your horses," Jules told him.

Charles looked at Isabel and smiled. "Perhaps I could give you a tour of the grounds and introduce them to you," he said, "Do you ride?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, perhaps I will teach you sometime."

There was more small talk as they nibbled on danishes and sliced melon. Isabel complimented Sophia on her pearls.

"Thank you," the older woman replied. "To me, pearls perfectly convey grace and beauty without vulgarity."

A man entered the room. He was big, well over six feet tall and shaped like a barrel. He had dark hair streaked with white. He smiled, but there was something in his expression that struck Isabel as melancholic.

"Paul," Charles said, "Come in and meet our new guests."

Jules jumped to his feet and vigorously shook the man's hand when Charles introduced them. Paul took Isabel's hand as well, and held it a few extra seconds before releasing it and sitting down next to David.

Jules and Paul chatted. Although they had not met previously, they had some mutual business connections.

Charles put his hand on Isabel's arm. "I would love to show you around the grounds now," he said, seeming to sense her lack of interest in the conversation, "But more guests will be arriving and I need to be available to greet them."

Paul turned from his conversation with Jules and said, "I'd be more than pleased to do the honor of showing Isabel around," he said. Looking back at Jules, he added, "That is, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Jules said, "I'd be happy to entrust her to your care."

Isabel could tell from his tone that he was anything but happy about it, but she smiled and thanked Paul for the offer.

Paul rose from the table and she followed suit.

"I promise I won't keep her too long," he said.

At the far end of the sunroom, a door led out to a small patio. There were a few scattered wicker tables and chairs, and a hot tub in the far corner.

"May I take your arm?" Paul asked, as they stepped outside.

"Certainly," Isabel said. They stepped off the patio, on to the garden path, and strolled a winding course between raised beds of seedlings and under budding ornamental trees.

"You'll have to return in a month or so to see it all in bloom," Paul said.

They exited the garden and strolled across the lawn, scattering a flock of robins before them. Paul asked Isabel about herself and seemed genuinely interested in her answers. He was an alumni of McGill and had a number of questions about how things had changed there since he had graduated, some fifty years earlier.