The Descent Ch. 05

Lena was hypnotised by Yvette's story. Repelled by it and at the same time hungry for more. The account of the party in the Avenue de Roule had a physical effect on her. She had become a vessel for feelings which a few days before she had not known existed and yet which now they were here threatened to overwhelm her.

When the day finally dawned Yvette took time with her preparations. She drew a deep bath and as she soaped and oiled her young limbs found her thoughts drifting back to her encounter with D. In the days following the party, ashamed of what had happened she tried at first to put it from her mind. It was no use. Memories of the dark room and the heavy furniture came back unbidden. She remembered him turning towards her, a particular moment when the angle of his head, and the deliberateness of his movements, combined to produce a powerlessness in her that even now could make her heart stop. The sensation ambushed her once more as she lay in the bath and deep under water she felt herself grow moist. It was the sense of inevitability that undid her. The knowledge that she could do nothing to stop what was about to happen. She could no more prevent it than she could raise her hand and hold back an avalanche. Stretched out in the warm embrace of the water she longed to let her fingers stray between the folds of her wet lips but conscious of what was to come she held back. She would keep herself for D, indeed it seemed he already owned the moment she longed for and to spend it before their meeting would have felt like an act of betrayal.

Since the party something had changed in her lovemaking with her fiancé. She loved him no less -- she was going to spend her life with him after all -- but for the first time she had begun counterfeiting her release in order to please him. She was shocked to discover how easily he was fooled and found herself despising him for it . Unwilling to let this state of affairs continue she had begun to summon the image of D to her aid. Now she cried out in genuine passion, not at her fiance's bidding, but at D's as night after night she raised her hand and let the avalanche take her.

Yvette dried herself carefully. She trimmed and scented the hair between her legs, and then in a gesture she was sure would please him, lightly rouged the lips of her cunt.

She took time over her dressing. She chose each item with care, holding it up to the mirror and trying to anticipate his reaction. She paid particular attention to her panties, selecting a pair made of lace so fine that their touch felt like no more than a warm exhalation against her skin. She smiled to herself as she imagined D's response and the moment he was forced to acknowledge that she looked even more desirable dressed like this than naked as his note requested. When she was ready, she looked at herself in the mirror, and allowed herself a moment's pleasure at what she saw.

She left the house in plenty of time and made the short journey to the Rue Chevert. Arriving early she stopped for coffee in the very café where she sat now with Lena. Somehow during the preparations for their meeting she had managed to block out the promise that she would be caned. Or rather to hold it apart and to one side, so that as she dressed for the man she must now think of as her lover, it was no more than a shadow on the horizon, a distant sense of anticipation mixed with the heady scent of her perfume. Now as she waited alone at her café table she tasted a moment of simple fear. How would she react? Was it the pain that frightened her, or the humiliation? Unable to resolve these questions she simply put them from her mind and waited.

She was determine to arrive exactly as he had asked at 3 o'clock so with two minutes showing on the clock above the door, she left her table, the coffee untouched, and walked the last hundred yards to her rendezvous.

A large black car pulled up alongside as she reached the hotel. The door opened to receive her and dipping her head she joined D in the back seat. She could see nothing of the driver but his broad back as he concentrated on the road ahead.

She expected D to compliment her on her time keeping but evidently he accepted it as no more than his due.

"We are going for a drive," he said.

They drove in silence for a while. D looked out of the window and made no further attempt at conversation. Yvette saw the familiar streets of the centre give way to anonymous suburban sprawl, content to stay in this suspended moment lulled by the sense of forward motion.

She was not sure of how it began. But slowly she became aware that D's attention had shifted. He had turned away from the window and was staring at her. From the corner of her eye she saw him turn in his seat to face her. She glanced up at him. His face was dark with disapproval.

"Lift your skirt," he said abruptly.

His tone was harsh. Shocked by the sudden change in his manner she hesitated.

"You have had my note. Your instructions were clear. Lift your skirt."

She blushed and started to stammer an explanation. D cut her off at once.

"Lift your skirt, damn you!"

This time she did as he asked, sliding the hem of her skirt above her stocking tops to reveal the pale white flesh of her thighs and higher still her soft mound encased in fine black lace. Even at this late stage she was sure the picture that presented itself to D's gaze would appease him, and melt the displeasure that had appeared in his face.

She was disabused by a sharp stinging slap on her cheek. And before she could cry out D's hand had seized the lace of her panties and was tearing at the fabric. The force of his assault lifted her bodily from the seat as she felt the material give and begin to tear. With two more sharp tugs the lace parted and came away and she was deposited on her back in the footwell. D loomed above her.

"Open your legs! Open them!"

Frightened now, Yvette did her best in her awkward position to obey. The back of the adjacent seat got in the way and she struggled to raise herself from the floor. D reached forward and down between her struggling legs. She felt his hand forcing its way between her thighs. She wasn't ready to receive him. But it made no difference. He pushed harder, forcing his fingers into her, first one and then a second, until she was pinned to the floor of the car.

"If you are asked to do something you do it. Do you understand?"

She felt brutally violated by his hand. Unable to speak.

He slapped her again, another stinging blow, and pushed harder into her. "I said, Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes -- I'm sorry, I --"

"You do not choose to do something different. You do not choose to disobey me. It's very simple. You do as you are asked."

His fingers were asserting his rights over her. Forcing themselves deep into the cunt she had so carefully prepared for him. It was powerful gesture, at once dismissive and deeply humiliating. For a long moment he held her there, pinned to the floor. Then he withdrew his hand.

"You disappoint me. I had expected more of you. Stop the car."

The driver brought the car to a halt at once.

D leaned across and pushed open her door.

"Get out. Now."

"Please --," Yvette started to say.

"Get out!"

He turned to look out of the adjacent window.

A moment later the door slammed and D drove away, leaving a stunned Yvette staring through her tears at the disappearing car.

Lena, eyes wide with disbelief, reached across the table and took Yvette's hands in hers.

"He did that? He really did that?"

Yvette smiled softly.

"I don't remember how I got home," she said.

In the days that followed Yvette's emotions were in turmoil. She was in turn, angry, tearful, and afraid. One evening she almost blurted out the whole story to her fiancé, but watching him chewing contentedly on a chicken bone, she realised a world had opened up between them, and that the chances of him understanding what she had gone through were non existent. So instead she said nothing. Weeks passed. Slowly her anger subsided and she was able to return to her normal routine with a degree of equanimity. But this did not last.

After a while she was overtaken by a growing sense of unease. At first she could not account for it. Exactly what she felt was difficult to formulate, other than in the simplest terms. If she had to explain it, all she could have said was that something was not as it should be. Something was wrong.

Her thoughts drifted back as they always did to the darkened room with D. At the moment he had taken her she had surrendered all responsibility. It had been entirely stripped away. And that had somehow felt unaccountably right. As if the wheels of her existence had shifted slightly and something had dropped into place. It was as if for a moment in surrendering her will, she had found herself.

At this realisation she felt the anger she had directed at D drain away. After all, what had happened? She had disobeyed him. And he had punished her. There was a symmetry here, a simple justice even a child could understand. But that he should have dismissed her so finally - that she could not bear. She was under no illusion that she could repair the damage she had done by her disobedience. But at least she could acknowledge that she had been wrong and perhaps in doing this she could set the world right again, and get on with her life.

The following day she handed a short note to the father of her pupil and asked if he would be kind enough to forward it to his friend.

D -- the note began - forgive me for writing to you now. I wish only to say that I understand how wrong I was to disobey your instructions and that I fully comprehend the reason for your displeasure. I do not expect you to think more kindly of me for saying so - and of course I do not expect a reply. Please accept my profound apologies for treating you with such lack of respect. It was unforgivable. Yours, Yvette.

The next morning as she left the flat she found the car waiting for her. D opened the door and she got in. He took her to a room in the Hotel Nancy, tied her hands to the cross rail of a chair and thrashed her until the skin broke on her cheeks and back.

So began the most intense relationship of her young life.