The Perils of Mandy Ch. 02

"Your first thought was probably correct," Mandy conceded after they left the group area. "They are probably in one of the rooms. Do you have an idea how long they may be?"

Henri did not. "One can never predict the passage of time in the club."

"It's getting late, and I want to contact my boyfriend tonight to let him know how the evening went. I think I may head back to my room at the institute," she said. "Would you inform M. Duval when you see him?"

Henri said he would. They went back to the bar, where he procured a public transit map for her, and advised her on the best route to take, adding, "It should be safe for an unescorted lady, even a beautiful one." Mandy retrieved her wrap, happy to have it to disguise her crimson dress. She was a little uneasy at first, going out alone at night in a large city, but soon relaxed. Henri was correct on safety - there was a visible police presence and several people out and about on the well-lit streets, with no gangs of young males. Before long she was back at her residence. The worst incident was a couple of anonymous wolf whistles and sucking sounds when she got off the bus.

She took a shower, and it was a little past 1 a.m. - early evening in the U.S. - when she Skyped John to go over the evening's events, emphasizing how pleased she was at the audience's positive reception. She also described the raunchy setup of the club, including the private rooms and the orgy in progress in the back. This time she did not omit M. Duval's heavy-handed hitting on her, as she knew she was not imagining it. But she reassured John that the headmaster gave up easily enough and disappeared with Angelique while she conversed with the congenial Henri.

"I'm happy you were a hit," he said, "but I don't like the sound of that club scene, and I'm pissed that the big musical cheese practically raped you, then dumped you so he could crawl under the sheets with some nympho. He's like a pimp - supplies the club with girls and gets gratuities for himself in return. If he can't talk you into the sack, he just abandons you to get his rocks off with someone else. If another guy jumped your bones, he'd just shrug and say tough shit. You were lucky tonight with that Henri guy. Next time you may not be."

"I don't care for Monsieur's style either," she told him, "but don't see any real threat. The way people were mixing it up at the club, it might be the most rape-free place in the city. Anyone could get laid without much effort. If a guy is turned down he just has to go to the next girl or to the swingers lounge."

"I don't like to think of you there," he said. "You don't need the bucks that badly, and in the future when you list your credits how much weight will The Orgy Cabaret carry?"

She laughed, as the door opened and Julie came in.

"Well, Julie's here. I don't want to keep her up. As usual, you leave me with some things to think about," she told John. "Kisses."

Julie looked weary, her hair mussed, clothes wrinkled. She threw herself down on her bed. "How was your club debut?" she asked, with a weak smile.

"Interesting," Mandy replied, and related the evening events again, including M. Duval's disappearance after she spurned his advances.

"Duval is a prick," she commented. "That Henri sounds nice, and an importer living in a building with a concierge means big bucks. I will try to meet him on my next night there, and divert Monsieur with that Angelique.

It was not the first time Mandy realized her roommate had different goals than herself. "How did your date go tonight?" she asked Julie.

Julie gave a so-so wave of the hand. "That man I told you about, Louis, took me to another club. He introduced me to the manager. We made a deal for the job, and for more money. Of course, when a man gives you something, you must give him something in return, and Louis was insatiable." She smiled absently. "If he was the age of Romaine down the hall, it would have been more enjoyable, but even so it was not too bad."

Mandy slept restlessly, her dreams incorporating the club scene, with people engaging in various sexual acts, urging her to join in. In the worst nightmare, she was being held down by two naked men, while a furry satyr approached. The half-beast had the face of M. Duval, flashing his broad lecherous smile, with the lower extremities of a goat, including a huge hairy erection. The Duval-Satyr tore off her red dress, forced her legs apart, and mounted her. She shut her eyes as he penetrated her and began thrusting, each thrust accompanied by pain and a heavy pounding sound as her insides were pummeled by the rock-hard animal phallus.

"Qui est-ce?" a female voice shouted, bringing her out of the horrible nightmare. She was alone in her bed, still feeling pressure against her pelvis, but found it was just a small, firm pillow. It was daylight. Julie was in her bed, sitting up. The pounding sound came again - someone was at the door - and Julie cried out once more, asking who was there.

"A message from the headmaster," came a voice from the other side. Julie, in a pink nightgown, went to the door, and a young courier handed her an envelope, also giving her an up and down appraisal. "For Mlle. Beaufort," he said. "Important. I am to bring back a reply."

Julie came over to Mandy's bed, handing her the envelope. A handwritten scrawl on M. Duval's letterhead instructed her to see him in his office "this morning, as soon as possible," and to tell the courier when she expected to be there. "Tell him an hour from now," she said to the courier, then looked at the clock and saw it was about 9 a.m. The courier left.

She remarked to Julie, "In his office? This is Sunday."

Julie nodded, yawning. "I suppose Angelique was not enough. He must feel a desperate need to fuck you."

Something told her she should take precautions, go there prepared for trouble.

* * *

He was no longer the suave, suited-up, self-assured academic with the broad smile. M. Duval was dressed down in joggers and a plain shirt with coffee stains, looking weary and hung-over. He rose from his desk, hands on hips, scowl on face, brows arched in indignation. He did not attempt la bise.

"Why did you walk out on me, humiliate me by leaving?" he demanded sternly.

"Monsieur, I did not think you would miss me. I did try to find you before going, but you had disappeared with someone who appeared to share your tastes for la vie douce, and I was uncertain when you would be back. It was getting late and I wanted to contact my boyfriend. Didn't Henri inform you?"

"Yes, he did, but I do not understand you." He continued to glower. "I personally introduce you to the club and intercede with its management to get you a job with additional benefits that many young women would relish. Others have been happy to reward me for such efforts, but you not only spurn my affections - you walk out and leave me looking like a fool."

He was almost pouting like a small boy, she thought. It actually amused her, but she apologized, saying she meant no disrespect.

"American women of my generation are independent and do not always feel in need of an escort," she said modestly. "I naturally assumed that an accomplished academic and man of the world would be so self-assured he would scarcely miss me." She hoped she was not smiling as the words came out.

"Well, I will expect more from you following your Wednesday performance," Duval said sternly. "You must treat me more appropriately - get into the spirit of the club. But of course, you will perform for the audience first. Expect to put in a half-hour on stage. I will see that you receive more than any other student has begun with. You may expect €200 in remuneration. Be here tomorrow afternoon so we can go over songs and choreography."

"Monsieur, I do not think I am interested in either the club or the job," she told him.

His mouth fell open, and it was a moment before he cried out, "Are you mad? This is a wonderful opportunity for your financial and career advancement. The audience was enthralled by your debut. If they are as receptive in the future, who knows what contacts we may meet - producers, agents, principals of other clubs looking for talent."

"Who would undoubtedly wish to interview me in one of the private club rooms," she said dryly.

Duval shook his head. "The road to the stars is not attained without some earthly work, Amanda. There is not a single popular female entertainer who has achieved what she has without showing her talents and personality in la chambre à coucher. You are surely aware of that with your background."

"My background? Monsieur, my background before last night consisted solely of a few open mic nights, and they had nothing to do with any bedrooms I may have visited."

He smirked. "Why you play these little games I do not know, Amanda. Do you think fellowships are handed out at whim? There is much screening of qualified candidates. You are here following the evaluation of an academic colleague of mine that you are a young woman whose sophistication matches her beauty. I expected you would relish the opportunities in front of you, and embrace necessary libertin activities outside of the classroom, considering your experiences in la cinema carnal.

It took a moment before it sunk in. She slapped her forehead. "Now I understand - Sam!"

"Samantha, your nom de plume in the cinema, if I remember correctly," M. Duval said, his smirk accentuated.

"No, Monsieur, not my stage name. The name of my identical twin sister, Samantha." Mandy laughed. "We have always been confused with one another, and since Sam got involved in porn the confusion has grown." She laughed again. "I do apologize, Monsieur, but you've made a mistake, as has whatever 'colleague' gave you that evaluation of me."

M. Duval was looking at her with a thin, skeptical smile. "You maintain that the videos I have seen of you en flagrant délit were not of you but of your sister - an identical twin?"

"Yes, and I apologize if her porn enterprise had a positive influence on my music fellowship selection," she managed to spit out, before laughing again. "Oh, I can't wait to tell Sam. She should have gotten the fellowship. She doesn't sing or play an instrument, but you would have been so happy with her." She laughed even harder.

"Enough of this nonsense, Amanda," he shouted, putting an end to her laughter. He looked stern as well as skeptical. "You should carefully consider your choices. The institute frowns on students leading double lives, especially so if they attempt to obscure facts with silly stories. You should think about your opportunities, and something else too: Your fellowship could be withdrawn for refusal to cooperate with me - with my educational direction. When you have considered everything, come back here tomorrow afternoon and we will talk more." He made a curt gesture of dismissal and turned to papers on his desk.

Despite the dire warning about her fellowship, Mandy was still smiling to herself with small bursts of laughter as she made her way back toward her room. Being mistaken for a porn star had apparently helped secure the fellowship because the pervert headmaster expected her to be an easy conquest. But it was now working against her since she was not delivering the goods. It was just so ironic. As she arrived at the residence she encountered Philippe, who said he had stopped by to inquire about her experience at the club, and been informed by Julie of her unusual Sunday morning summons by M. Duval, at which point she laughed again.

"Can we go somewhere to a nice, quiet little cafe to discuss it, and so I can get a bite of breakfast," she asked.

"Bien sûr," he replied, "but only if you allow me to treat you."

"Lead on," she said, taking him by the arm. "I can use a treat. I'll probably be broke and out on the street soon."

Over croissants and coffee, she told Philippe about the previous night, her positive reception by the audience, her negative impression of the club, her rejection of M. Duval's advances, and his anger that she left without him, resulting in her being called on the carpet; also his even greater anger when she told him she was no longer interested in working at the club. She decided to omit Duval confusing her with Samantha, as the humor was wearing thin, and she also saw no need to inform Philippe that she had an identical sister who was a porn star, which was a source of embarrassment.

Philippe smiled as she recounted events. "I respect your decisions, Mandy. While I should not say this, considering my position, M. Duval is a lecher who does favors for women students in the expectation he will be favored in return. He influences the admissions procedure of the institute, often advocating for the most attractive women even if their level of talent and potential is less than that of more plain women. I hasten to add that he chose well with you, who are as talented as beautiful, and certainly deserved consideration."

"It's nice to hear you say that. I was beginning to think my selection was based entirely on M. Duval's idea of how hot I am, and that an essential criterion was to be in heat at Monsieur's club."

Philippe laughed. "You are not the first student he has attempted to ingratiate himself with through placement in a club libertin. Of course, some reject him outright, and even those who cooperate for reasons of personal gain usually move on from Monsieur to other men who provide better hope of advancement. That is why he continually looks to help new students 'advance,' as they are also his tickets to access the clubs. He usually brings in prospective students for private interviews, supposedly to determine their skill level, but perhaps also to deduce how likely it is they will reward him. In your case an interview was not feasible due to distance, so he must have assumed he could bend your will."

"An assumption based partly on wrong information, perhaps," Mandy said. "Tell me, when others decline to work with him and leave him for other 'patrons,' does he usually get angry and threatening?"

"I have not witnessed it, but none of the other students Monsieur has approached have so rapidly rejected both him and the jobs he brokers them into. Perhaps it is a shock to his ego resulting in anger toward you."

"That is sort of the way I saw it too, but could he retaliate by canceling my fellowship? He suggested that was a possibility."

"The pig!" Philippe exclaimed, his customary reserve and facade of respect for his employer cracking momentarily. He paused, then added, "Such would not be good politics for Monsieur or the institution he represents. What valid reason could he claim for such a draconian action? How could he justify turning away a musically talented student for not prostituting herself before him? He must rethink it. Do not be concerned. It most certainly is an attempt to intimidate you into doing his bidding."

She reached across the small table and took his hand. "Thank you so much for being straight with me. It's great to be able to talk with a friend. Johnny is good for me that way too, but he's an ocean away."

He turned his hand slightly so that their palms were touching. "It is my pleasure, Amanda, and more so as I get to know you."

They did not say anything for a moment. She reflected that the silence was not uncomfortable and how nice it was just to sit there with someone who showed every sign of becoming a good friend. And truthfully, there was a hint of exhilaration. He was, after all, a handsome man as well as a nice one. And it had been over two weeks since she had said adieu to John.

* * *

It was a warm evening. She stepped out of her room onto the small balcony, bringing a resin chair to perch on while she Skyped John, bringing him up to date on what she now termed The Perils of Mandy: Her Sunday morning summons to the headmaster's office and severe dressing down for leaving the sex club without him, his belief that she was a pornstar, the ultimatum that she must get into the "swing of things," his fury and veiled threat to her fellowship when she declined the club job.

"One thing I've been wondering about: Duval said I was recommended to him by a 'colleague.' I imagine that person must also have referred him to Sam's videos, which apparently iced the fellowship for me. Who do you think the colleague is?"

John thought a moment. "I'll bet it's Dean Jeffords, the head of our college music department. At your celebratory farewell, didn't he sort of beat his chest that he had contacts at the institute, and told them how talented and deserving you were? He probably heard the rumors you were in porn, looked up the videos online, and didn't get the word that you and Sam were two different people before cluing in his buddy Duval in return for a free pass to that libertine club next time he gets to Paris."

"I bet you're right. Who else could it have been? And sometimes I thought I caught Dean Jeffords sort of leering at me. Wow, are all music administrators lechers?"

"They pass around women like a game of 'musical chairs' maybe," John suggested, chuckling.

"Now I have to convince Duval that Sam and I are not one and the same, just to get him to stop coming on to me. Philippe thinks I don't have to worry about the fellowship, that Duval is just blustering about that."

She heard Julie exclaim something in Italian. Looking inside the room, she saw Julie seated in front of her computer, but her head was turned, gaping at Mandy on the fire escape.

"E-mail me that twins video," Mandy asked John, "the one Daryl made. I can't find it on my computer."

John said he would. They talked a little more before breaking off the connection. When she re-entered the room. Julie was looking at her strangely.

"You have been keeping things from me," Julie said, wagging her finger. "And I thought you were so prim and innocente." She moved her monitor so Mandy could see it. A porn video of a wild college party was playing. It featured sister Sam in one of her premier performances, taking on two guys at the same time. It was Mandy's turn to exclaim.

"Fuck! Where did this come from? You didn't just stumble upon it, did you?"

"I received an e-mail from the institute, directing me to click on a link, and this came up," Julie said. "I have to compliment you. It is very sexy. And I see by the search there are several videos under the name, 'Samantha.' That is your stage name? How much do you get paid? Is it by the video or by the cock? You must get to many parties, meet a lot of guys."

Mandy buried her head in her hands.

"I am saving it to favorites. I will use it later to stimulate Romaine," Julie said.

"No!" Mandy cried out. Julie looked at her in surprise.

"Julie, wait just a few minutes, please," Mandy asked.

"Then again, maybe I should not show it to Romaine," Julie said, frowning. "He will share it with his friends and they will all want to fuck you, and I will be left out in the pasture."

"Just wait a few minutes and John will send me something that will explain this," Mandy said. "Meanwhile, may I see the e-mail address of whoever sent you the video link?" Julie clicked on the message. It was an obscure address with the provider Orange, but Mandy had no doubt who sent it. Monsieur knew Julie would share the message with her. He was raising the ante, hoping to pressure her into complying with his demands or maybe harass her into leaving. Checking her e-mail she saw that she had received the same message, and wondered if copies had gone out to other people as well. A new message came in, from John, and she opened the attachment, named "Twins video."

"Julie, please look at this," she asked.