Karma (10 page)

Marcy
dreamed of her mother again. This time while her mom had still been trying to
communicate to her, she seemed less anxious. The nods her mother gave her
seemed to be approving. Marcy still had no idea what the dream meant or what her
mother was trying to tell her. Was her mom watching over her?

It
was a comforting thought.

Meanwhile
Marcy loved her new job. For a start, she was so grateful to be working school
hours, and making more money. How lucky was she?

Wearing
a black dress with a white apron for a uniform, Marcy did whatever she was told
by Gustave, her boss. Sometimes she helped out in the kitchen, or she cheerfully
cleaned and stripped beds or cleaned bathrooms. She wore disposable gloves
while taking care of all Mr. Chevalier's weird sexual toys and merrily polished
the St. Andrew's cross, the spanking bench and numerous other interesting or
torturous devices.

Could
anything bother her? Hell no! Not when she had it 'made in the shade' as she
did now.

Because
she wore a uniform and was obviously part of Mr. Chevalier's staff, she was
unremarkable and had been placed well outside the whole BDSM culture, yet able
to look in. In truth, she found the whole subject rather fascinating.

From
what she had seen, which admittedly wasn't much, it wasn't scary because it was
all consensual. It all seemed to her like a great big sex game being played in
real life with others, kind of like a fantasy role play maybe.

She
had discovered that André was a "Dominant" – which was also called a
"Dom" or sometimes a "Top" or a "Master." The Dominant
"Master" or "Mistress" was in control of a
"submissive" or "sub."

Most
days, around noon she was sent to dust, vacuum and empty the bin of the
security room while the staff took lunch. This room was about the size of a generous
master bedroom. It was stark and painted white, with a complex array of monitors
and screens that kept track of everything that went on in André's penthouse,
the staff level (one floor down) and his dungeon areas in the basement.

It
was only a few days into the third week of her employment that Marcy found she
was alone with all the screens left on. Utterly captivated, she sat down in the
comfortable black leather chair, and watched her first scene involving
Dominance and submission.

Marcy
had watched porn before, so that was nothing new. Trent had introduced it to her
from the moment they had been married. Unfortunately, the sex movies he bought seemed
unnatural and unreal. Every woman in them gave the impression that they were
less of a person than the men. That they were being used while being treated only
with contempt.

There
was a lack of respect that just felt wrong. Consequently Marcy had never really
enjoyed them.

This
scene was being played on all eight screens, from eight different points in the
room. As she watched a woman walked in, and to Marcy's shock and surprise, André
Chevalier came after her.

Marcy
shifted slightly in her chair, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Holy shit,
she thought.
What am I doing? Should I be doing this?

But
it didn't matter for Marcy could not pull her eyes away. Her curiosity was
overwhelming. André was here with another man's wife. Clearly this was going to
be one of the famous sexual lessons that he gave to paying couples. She didn't
plan to leave this room until she saw what actually went on, here in her
workplace.

André
as ever, was elegantly dressed. His three piece suit that was no doubt Armani.
The man always looked so powerful, contained and self-assured. Trent, her ex, was
like that, too – but his confidence was built on self-deluded fantasy.

André
was the real deal.

Marcy
recognized the woman from the Bellagio where she and her husband had first meet
André. Jennifer Whittington and her husband Charles were on vacation in Las
Vegas. In the last week they had been coming daily to André's penthouse,
presumably to have relationship counseling. Marcy had served them lunch a few
times.

The
Whittington's had a Boston accent, and the kind of sophisticated confidence and
address that came from old money. About five foot three, blonde with hazel eyes;
Jennifer Whittington was an attractive woman. She appeared to be perhaps in her
mid-forties. Her body had thickened, as middle-age women's bodies so often did.

At
the casino Jennifer Whittington had seemed elegant, rich and in control.

Here
she trembled like a frightened child.

"
Oui,
stand right there, Jennifer,
bon,
" André said in a low, seductive
voice when the woman had moved to the middle of the room. The woman seemed very
small next to him, for he was a great deal taller than she was. "I see
that you wore no jewelry, as I requested. It is very well,
ma petite
."
His knuckles grazed gently down her cheek and jaw line approvingly.

The
woman looked uncertain, tense and panicked, yet she seemed to relax at André's
heavy praise and his touch. Her dark blonde hair had golden highlights, and the
soft wavy style was mature yet glamorous. Her cream blouse was sheer silk, her tan
skirt tailored.

"You
will call me, Sir."

"Yes…
Sir," she said tentatively.

"We
have discussed this at length, yet I wish for you to tell me once again why we
are here," André said.

The
woman licked her lips. "I am submissive and you are going to teach me
submission."

"You
must call me, Sir," he reminded her.

"Oh,"
she said quickly, "Sorry, yes, Sir."

He
gave her an approving smile. "You are doing well,
ma petite
,"
he assured her. "We were discussing submission.
Pardon
, I am
devastated to have to correct you, but I do not teach you submission.
Non.
You are what you are. I have no wish to change who and what you are. My intention
is to free you,
ma petite
. I am here to help you understand exactly
what
it is to be submissive
."

There
was a long silent moment while Jennifer processed that. When understanding lit
her eyes, André nodded appreciatively. "Just so," he said. "Can
you remember the other reason that we are here?"

She
blushed. "You're going to help me discover my sexuality."

"Very
good," André replied and his tone was soothing, and gentle, perhaps as
someone might speak when calming a skittish horse.

"I have five rules for you to remember, Jennifer. First,
you must call me, Sir. Two, you will speak only when spoken to. If you have a
question you may ask me if you are allowed to speak. Three, when I give you an
order, you must do exactly as I say."

André paced back and forth for a moment, stopping in
front of her again. "Four, you will never avoid telling me the truth or directly
lie to me, Jennifer. I assure you, I will know if you are lying. This is a most
important rule. Lie to me and I will punish you. I will have much more from you
than just your body. I will know everything, your hidden thoughts and secret fantasies."

He paused. Marcy could almost see the electric sexual tension.
It was a palpable force that lay thick between them. She could almost feel it,
too, even though she was nowhere nearby.

André looked at the woman with hard eyes and a no-nonsense
manner that froze her in place. "Right now you are
mine completely
,"
he said with confidence and authority. "Body, mind, heart, and soul."

Marcy shivered at the power he displayed. André's heady
male dominance thrilled and scared her, and she was just watching from afar.
How was Mrs. Whittington coping with that kind of intensity?

"Five, if you want or need something you must ask me,"
he said. "You must not do anything without my consent. You are not allowed
to orgasm without my permission, Jennifer," he added with dark humor,
"I expect that you will
beg
me to allow you to come, oh so many
times. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

He made her repeat the rules, making sure she understood
them completely. André stepped close to her then, took her face in both hands
and gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead. "What is your safe word,
ma
petite
?"

"Red, Sir."

"Do not be afraid to use it," he said.

"What happens if I use it?"

André's eyebrows lifted encouragingly. "What happens
if I use it…"

"Oh, sorry. I meant to say what happens if I use it,
Sir?"

"Then all action will cease and we will discuss what
must be discussed." He arched one elegant brow in a cocky, playful manner.
"It has been many years,
ma petite
, since a woman has used her safe
word with me."

Jennifer giggled.

"My absolute authority over you is an illusion,
Jennifer," he said. "It is from your own will that you give me this
power. You have control. You can stop me at any time. This scene is your
choice,
comprenez vous
?"

"Yes, Sir,"
Jennifer said. "Thank you, Sir."

Marcy sat back in the chair,
and took a deep breath.
Wow!

Marcy had learned more about
her boss in the last ten minutes than she had since she had begun working here.
She checked the time, grimly wondering how long before the Security guy
returned. Not that it mattered.

There is no way I'm leaving
this show just yet,
Marcy
decided. Whatever this was, it was nothing like Trent's porn.

"Do you trust me?" André asked Jennifer.

Her lips curled up into a grin at that, and a more
confident personality shone through. "You know that I do, Sir."

"
Bon,
" he gave her a panty-melting
charismatic smile. "You will not regret it,
ma petite
, I swear. And
so, you are ready to begin?"

The woman swallowed and took a deep, steadying breath, as
if preparing to jump off a cliff. In many ways, she was, Marcy figured. Marcy
admired the woman. Having never experienced an orgasm or not, Marcy didn’t
think she had the guts to try anything like what Jennifer was doing right now.

"I'm ready, Sir," Jennifer said

André stood back a pace. "Then you will strip for
me, right now."

Jennifer's face reddened and her eyes lowered, but she
began to unbutton her blouse. "Stop," André said. "Look at me,
ma
petite
. During this scene I wish for you at all times as much as possible,
to meet my eyes. Undress while looking at me."

"Yes, Sir."

Jennifer dropped her clothes to the floor where she
stood. It was difficult to do otherwise while meeting André's eyes. When she
got down to only her bra and panties, she flinched and seemed embarrassed, or
perhaps ashamed. André noticed instantly.

"Stop, Jennifer," he commanded his eyes hard upon
hers. "You will tell me what is in your thoughts right now."

She bit her lower lip.

"Do not think to lie to me,
ma petite
,"
he said in a deceptively mild voice. "For of a certainty, I shall
know."

Jennifer swallowed and her voice became louder as she managed
to get up the angry courage to say what she felt. "Sir, I was thinking
that I'm old and fat and ugly. I was thinking that you are handsome and at
least ten years younger than I am. I felt ashamed because you'll be disgusted
to see me naked. How could you be physically attracted to me?"

"
T
rès bon
,"
he said softly. "
Y
ou have
pleased your Dom. You are very brave to be so candid,
ma petite.
Remain
still for me now." He came toward her then and took her right hand in his,
pressing it against his cock. Marcy watched Jennifer's eyes widen in
astonishment. André's thick shaft bulged, big and stiff in his pants.

"I am so very hard for you,
ma petite
, and
while these most sensual undergarments are enticing," he gestured to her
bra and panties, "it is not these that have aroused me."

They stared at each other for a long moment, with André
holding her hand firmly pressed against his rigid shaft. Jennifer, blushing and
unable to meet his eyes, looked away.

"Stand up straight, hands to the side," he ordered
abruptly and Jennifer instantly complied. He trailed his fingers along her
stomach and up her shoulder as he walked around behind her. Then he unfastened
her bra, letting it fall to the floor. He made the full 360 degree circle,
stopping in front of her, studying her face.

"Shall I tell you what I see when I look at you,
Jennifer?" he asked in a low, sexy voice. "I perceive a strong woman,
a woman who has the courage to bravely submit to another in her desire to
discover more about herself. How many, young or old, would have the valor to
face such a test?"

André's words and the tone and manner in which he spoke
them were compelling. Utterly absorbed, Jennifer stared at him. Marcy, sitting on
the edge of her seat in the security room, barely breathed.

"My eyes observe oh, so many things." He teased
a gentle finger over her mouth, running along her bottom lip, and moving along
the top. "There is botox here," he said. He traced along her
eyebrows, and gently touched between them, from where her frown lines would be.
He smiled. "And botox here, too, I think."

"Yes, Sir."

He stroked the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. "There
are fine lines, under the make-up." Using both hands, he slowly ran them
down her neck, across her collar bones. He palmed both of her heavy breasts,
holding them and feeling the weight of them.

The woman swallowed and licked dry lips.

"I do not think that you and I see your body with
the same eyes. I observe these large breasts that hang low without the bra, and
see here?" he trailed his fingers over the side of them. "Stretch
marks. You have carried children inside you,
ma petite
. I knew this before
this moment, of course, yet now my eyes witness the truth of it. Your nipples are
longer and darker than before pregnancy, no?"

He plumped and squeezed them between his thumb and
forefingers. They responded by peaking into hard nubs. Jennifer's breath
caught. She began breathing faster.

He traced her areola with a gentle finger. "Your areola
is large and has become quite dark against your pale flesh." André's hands
moved down her body, as he squatted down in front of her and pulled her panties
down to her ankles. Jennifer quivered.

Marcy was stunned to see that the woman, who she had assumed
to be so conservative, had no pubic hair at all.

"Step out,
ma petite
," he said and the
woman did.

He was on one knee before her, and he traced the long
thin scar just above her pubic area. "It was the cesarean operation that
made this mark." He put his hands on her hips squeezing her generous rolls
of soft skin. Bending close, he kissed her scar with reverence.

"Do not be ashamed of your most beautiful body,
ma
petite
," he said, placing a hand flat on her abdomen. "Me? I
would be proud. For you have given life! This strong female flesh has carried
and born children. Such scars, wrinkles and imperfections were honorably
earned. You are a mature woman, with many life experiences."

André's pupils flared with lust, yet his eyes softened
with understanding as he met her gaze. "You have so much wisdom that I, as
a man, could never hope to know. Do you begin to comprehend why I find you desirable?"

Marcy's chest tightened. What a beautiful thing to say. André
Chevalier was not like anyone she had ever known. Those words came from the
man's heart and soul. Mike had told her that André understood women, but Mike
hadn't been able to explain how much André obviously treasured them.

Wow. Just wow.

She studied the older woman, a contrast with the younger
man on the video before her. The intimacy between them was obvious. Marcy's
eyes stung.

Jennifer was timidly smiling at the man kneeling before
her. Marcy could see the emotion in her expression – her eyes were bright, with
tears perhaps? Yet the woman laughed it off with a shy, nervous chuckle.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I've never seen myself
like that before."

"You are so very beautiful
, ma petite,
"
he said, and his face reflected his admiration.

"Thank you," she whispered once more.
"Sir."

André gave her a playful grin back. "Besides, your sharp
unyielding bones are covered in exceptionally soft female flesh. When I lie on
top of you and push inside, it will be a most comfortable ride."

Jennifer's pale face and chest colored brightly at that,
and André gave her a low, sexy laugh.

Grinning at André's outrageous charm and audacity, Marcy
checked the time again.
Crap,
she thought with a disappointed sigh.
I
really have to go. Just when it was starting to get good, too.