Darkest Fantasies (3 page)

But there was
also the fact that he really didn't want anyone to talk to her
about what he got up to on those executive weekends, and long
evenings when he worked late and stopped over in the city. Of
course, she probably knew what he was up to; she might not be
socially geared, but she wasn't stupid. He had a reputation for
being a lady's man when she married him, and she must have known
that wouldn't change overnight. That was another of her strengths,
that she accepted a man's needs without continually harping on
about it. But there were rules, and one was that the wife was not
regaled with details. He was going to have to stick to her like a
glove to keep her out of the reach of the bitches, and behave
himself all night to boot, which was a pain. But the damage was
done, he thought grimly, and he would just have to live with
it.

On the day of
the dinner Esther was as excited as a child. She knew these
business meetings often involved social events, but so far she had
never been invited to one, although it had always been on the
cards. Now Kevin was finally rising within the firm she was very
happy for him, and even if she felt a bit insignificant beside
those highly confident career women, she would do her utmost not to
let him down. She had bought a new dress, assisted by Kevin, as she
hadn't known what kind of thing to buy. And if she looked a bit on
the dowdy side, she supposed that he was trying to make her dress
the same as the other wives who were mostly older than her, and
that was a very kind touch. Anyway, these dull browns were
fashionable right now, the lady in the shop had assured her.

Upon their
arrival at the venue her excitement was dampened by the sight of
the ranks of expensive cars outside the hotel, and the ostentatious
glitter of jewellery within it. She realised instantly that Kevin
hadn't realised it was to be such a formal event, or he would
surely have persuaded her to buy something with a little more
panache.

'Esther,
darling
. So nice of you to join us.'

Esther smiled
nervously at the chairman's plump wife, Amanda, whose vast family
jointly owned the majority of the company's shares. Then she
endured a two-cheeked embrace before being left standing as Amanda,
duty performed, swept past and homed in on one of her cronies.

Kevin took a
firm grip on Esther's arm and led her in. Her heart sank as she
gradually realised there were three kinds of women present: the
wives of businessmen who exuded all the confidence of ranking
officers, the younger female executives who had nothing feminine
about them whatsoever, and herself. She felt as dowdy and
uninteresting as they believed she was, but inside she felt a
quiver of resentment. Just once in her life she would like to show
them all, and Kevin. Only she didn't know what she would like to
show them. But something. If only she knew how.

She would have
been surprised to know that she was not as disliked as she
supposed. Most of those who knew Kevin realised that though his
wife was not what they would have expected of the most lecherous
man in the company, perhaps it was just as well, as no one else
would have put up with him. And they did admit she seemed to be
very nice, classy almost, in a quiet sort of way, and perhaps she
deserved better in a husband.

Esther,
though, not realising she engendered such sympathy in those
present, felt her confidence shrink to the size of a peanut during
the course of the evening.

For Kevin,
from a business point of view, the evening was undoubtedly a
success, in spite of his having to stick to Esther like a limpet.
He managed to sweet-talk the manager of FairBank into another
business meeting, one he made sure was an overnighter in the city,
and came away happily content to be mothered by Esther for the
remainder of the weekend, which had already been ruined as far as
assignations were concerned. He needed that now and again, just as
relief from his high-flying life. In bed he responded as well as he
could to her sexual overtures, but was nearly asleep when he slid
away from her in the dark.

Esther stayed
awake a long time thinking about the evening in its awful entirety,
but in particular about meeting one woman by the name of Chrissie.
In spite of the smile, which had all the charm of a cobra about to
strike, Esther knew the woman was vindictive for some reason and
yet she had given Esther just what she needed. In her handbag - her
own personal space where Kevin would never venture, through some
misguided sense of ethics - lay an embossed card.

She hugged
this information to herself. Lessons in self-awareness and
assertiveness were just what she needed, but she had finally
realised what she wanted to do. She would like to surprise Kevin at
the next business function, show him the kind of wife she really
could be given the opportunity.

Back in work,
Kevin had another surprise. Personnel had taken on a new
secretarial assistant by the name of Gloria. She was tall, rounded
in all the right places, and had the most amazing shock of curly
red hair he had ever seen. He desperately wanted to know whether
she had another shock of curly red hair down below. His imagination
pictured it in detail, but he really had a hankering to see for
himself. The only problem was Gloria herself, who for some reason
seemed to be standoffish. No matter how charming he made himself
she responded politely, giving him no indication whatsoever that
his charm was having its usual effect. He was sure that beneath the
cold front she was as warm and wriggly a lay as he had ever
enjoyed, and was probably playing hard to get. And if she was
intelligent, which he thought she probably was, she would
undoubtedly hold out for some kind of inducement, i.e. a raise. His
teeth bared in an avaricious smile. If she was playing games, he
was a past master at changing the rules. But then, he had plenty of
time, and Michelle had recently, against his expectations, been
making all the right signs. Each in its turn, he thought
smugly.

Even though
she could have quoted the message verbatim, Esther stared at the
card, feeling butterflies fluttering in her stomach. It had seemed
such a logical move in the comfort of her own home, but here and
now was a different matter. She turned it over. On the other side
the embossed card detailed the name, Madam Tisset, a telephone
number and the address, outside of which she was standing.

Ladies

Are you lacking
in self-confidence?

Are you fed-up
with being a doormat for your partner?

Come and learn
the art of

DOMINANCE

with an
expert

She had
consulted Jenny, a long-standing friend, about the card, including
her misgivings about the manner in which it had been acquired, and
also whether Kevin would really appreciate what she was doing.
Jenny had pooh-poohed her misgivings, said even if Kevin didn't
want it, it was about time she stood up to the male chauvinist
dickhead she had married (she knew Esther well enough to be
honest), and said even if he didn't approve, after the event it
would be too late. And anyway, Esther needed to regain some of the
self-confidence she used to have before Kevin relegated her to
housewife. It was about bloody time. Then she had phoned up Madam
Tisset and made the appointment for her.

Esther
realised dismally that Jenny was right. For some reason her few
years of marriage to Kevin had not been all she'd expected. It had
been very obvious, after the short but determined courtship, that
the marriage was dull for him, too, otherwise why would he be
running around with other women? She sighed. She couldn't even do
this properly. Jenny had done the hard bit; the phoning. All she
had to do was arrive, and even that she found difficult. She was
sure she didn't use to be so spineless.

She knew she
was at the right place because there was a small bell, above which
a sign proclaimed this to be the residence of Madam Tisset. Was
that as in French or English, she wondered, and took a step back to
look up. The building that surrounded the grim barrack-room door
looked like a warehouse. It was constructed of blackened bricks,
and had a vaguely sad, unused air about it. This was definitely not
a good idea. She took another step back, suddenly filled with a
burning desire to turn tail and run.

'Stop.'

She froze
without realising she had indeed turned to go. The word had not
been shouted, but was a command all the same. She turned slowly.
The woman behind her was not so much big, as powerful. Featureless
in the dusk, and disguised by a dark plastic raincoat tied tightly
around her middle against the chill wind, she radiated authority.
'Oh, boy. You really are under the thumb, aren't you, dear?' Esther
sensed amusement in the rich, husky drawl. 'You only have two
choices, you know; to carry on being the good little wife for the
rest of your life, or to take control of your life now. Only you
can decide.'

It was
November, and the freezing cold was sapping whatever small amount
of courage had been summed up to get her this far. Esther thought
longingly of her warm safe living room with the co-ordinating decor
and the easy-clean carpet Kevin had chosen. He wouldn't be there,
though, he was at some conference or other, as he so often was
these days. She felt instantly guilty for being pleased at the
thought, but she had learned a while back that the word conference
could cover a whole multitude of sins.

The woman
walked forward, opened the door and flicked a switch. Harsh yellow
light spilled out from a bare bulb. Esther noticed that the woman
was older than she sounded, had bright red lips, and wore
exceedingly high heels. She had been expecting some young, bouncy,
health freak with a black belt in something nasty.

'You made it
this far, dearie. Go the rest of the way. You won't get a second
chance.' Then the casual attitude dissipated. 'You have to
choose... now.' Madam Tisset walked inside. She paused, waited with
her head cocked to one side, then shrugged, and the door began to
close.

Esther stepped
forward as though she had been shoved in the back. 'Wait! Please
wait. I - I need to do this.'

Madam Tisset
stood back wordlessly to let her pass, and Esther could feel the
uncomfortable pounding of her heart as the door closed behind her
with a reverberating thud. It had a sort of finality about it. What
had she let herself in for? She had now entered the forbidden zone
- there was no turning back...

The woman
patted her shoulder in a motherly fashion and set off down the
corridor. 'It's all right, dearie, don't you worry about anything.
We'll take it all nice and easy. Now, you come on in and tell me
about this man of yours.'

'What has that
to do with anything?'

'Everything.
Tell me if I'm wrong. You were fairly self-sufficient. Had a job.
Enjoyed life. Went out - drinks, parties, the like. Then this
good-looking hunk of a man came along, swept you off your feet,
gave you a romantic wedding, and suddenly there you were, his wife,
the honeymoon period over. He liked his sex three times a week, a
roast on Sunday and his slippers by the fire. Before you knew it
you became his ideal wife. You don't have to go to work, you don't
go out unless he takes you, and the biggest indignity of all is
that you have to ask him for money.'

Esther was
taken aback.

'You're not
the first, dearie.'

'You make it
sound awful. I should consider myself lucky that I don't have to
work. He doesn't realise what he's doing, you see.' The words
sounded slightly sanctimonious even to her ears, but Madam Tisset
agreed without even sounding sarcastic.

'No, of course
he doesn't. He's a man, poor dear. He probably thinks he knows
what's best for his little wife, and talking won't make him change
his mind. He's probably got a few good points we can eventually
work on. But darling, if he's a model husband he's unique.'

As they were
talking Esther followed her down the corridor, up some steps, and
to another door, which opened to reveal a plush, if not
over-decorated living room.

'W-where are
the others?' she asked uncertainly.

'I don't do
classes. I work with individuals.'

She was
horrified. 'But won't that cost a lot?'

'Don't worry
about it. I get paid for succeeding. You let me know if I fail.'
Madam Tisset threw off her raincoat. She was wearing a sexy, red,
body-hugging dress, and her bust spilled from the low top. She
unlaced her ankle boots and collapsed on the worn settee with a
sigh. 'God, those shoes kill me.'

Esther smiled
nervously. 'Why do you wear them, then?'

'Image,
dearie. That's one of the first lessons I'm going to teach you. Men
see in a woman what that woman let's them see. It's all about
image. Trust me! What I don't know about men doesn't exist. You
see, this isn't only about training you, it's about training him
and, believe me, ducky, he'll enjoy the experience.

'Right,' she
went on casually, 'take your clothes off.'

'Pardon?'

'Strip.' She
crossed her legs and rubbed her foot. 'Tell me if I'm wrong, but
I'd guess you never used to wear such middle-aged frumpy rags
before you got married. You decided it was time to mature, to do
the married lady act, and hubby encouraged it.'

'Well, Kevin's
very conscious of the image we present. He's right to be, you
know.'

'Of course he
is. Even men are right sometimes, but with you it was probably
downright jealousy. He was afraid of other men taking a shine to
you.' Her nose wrinkled. 'And if you go out looking like that you
can be sure no other man will. It strikes me he achieved his aim,
only the trouble is before you know it he won't look twice, either.
Very soon he'll just see a dinner-maker, vacuum cleaner and
baby-making machine when he looks at you, and he'll find his bit of
pussy outside the marriage chamber. Ah, I see by your face he
already does. Now, don't get me wrong, you can do the motherly bit
for him if you want to, but you can also play several other parts,
according to the situation at hand. Bring him back into the fold,
so to speak. Let him know you won't stand for any nonsense. It can
be fun, believe me.'