Chapter 15
Compelling Desires
The successful launch of Ramon's collection was one of the happiest periods of my life. I was pleased to see Ramon get the deserved recognition for his talent and hard work. I was pleased that I had been able to offer him Lola for a memorable night á trois and I was looking forward to the promised rematch in Berlin.
I'll admit freely that part of my happiness came from basking in Ramon's reflected glory. More pictures of me appeared in the papers, particularly one taken when Ramon had offered his thanks to me and I had joined him on the runway, dressed only in lingerie designed by him. Casual acquaintances at the university and even some people I had never met before approached me when they recognized me. They expressed admiration because of my courage and good looks and wanted to know about my relationship with the now famous fashion designer. Even my roommate Arlette changed her 'I'm not talking to you' stance and started to become friendly again.
These demonstrations of sympathy and approval by friends and complete strangers helped me overcome the bitterness I felt about the expulsion from my parental home. My mother had phoned me secretly - disobeying my father's express prohibition to speak to me - to tell me how upset my father had been about seeing my picture in the media. He had declared that I was no longer his daughter and wasn't allowed to set foot in his house ever again. He was going to remove all traces of my existence and donate the things I had left in my room to a charitable organisation - provided they accepted a slut's possessions. My mother suggested that I come to Villiers while my father was at work and retrieve whatever I wanted to keep.
I refused to return to my former home like a thief in the night and decided to write off as lost whatever had been left there. Although I felt unhappy about this outcome, I also felt relieved that the conflict had come out into the open and I no longer needed to worry about hiding the real me from my father. Comments I received from Sylvie and Mirabelle indicated that not all of Villiers was condemning me. The local papers seemed to find it quite remarkable that a girl from Villiers-sur-Seine had made it onto the front pages of the national press.
In spite of my happiness, there was something gnawing inside me which I couldn't quite explain. It was a desire to raise my devotion to Ramon to a higher level. The feeling was not new, it had been with me almost from the day I met Ramon, but it came back more and more often and with greater urgency: I wanted Ramon to own me, to accept and use me as his possession.
During one of our visits to Le Chambre Séparée I had steered Ramon to the bondage corner. I told him how curious I was about the various contraptions and implements available and suggested he try out some of them on me. Reluctantly and with the help of a fierce-looking expert he had tied me into a frame where my body was practically doubled up with my legs spread wide and my hands near my ankles.
The position this left me in was similar to that of a person in an old-fashioned pillory. But in this modern version of the stocks - all shiny chrome and black leather - the victim was suspended in mid-air. My bottom was sticking out, inviting to be spanked or whipped. The frame was set inside a series of wheels which allowed the master to move his victim around, even flip her over, and make her bottom and pussy accessible at every possible angle.
I thought this was a wonderful toy and suggested that Ramon should have one installed in his apartment. The bondage expert pointed out that the victim could also be blindfolded and subjected to punishment and abuse without knowing who the aggressor was. All three orifices were freely available for use.
Even though Ramon did not share my enthusiasm for the gadget, the castigator handed him his card 'in case he needed some help with training his slave.'
Ramon did not show any interest in taking up the offer for help, but accepted the card and put it in his pocket. Later, I used his absence to retrieve the card and copy the address and phone number on a slip of paper. On the card it said: 'Marquis de Sade, Consultant in Education and Discipline'. This was obviously not the man's real name, but a blunt hint at the kind of service he offered. I waited a couple of weeks and when Ramon had not taken any initiative, I contacted the 'Marquis' myself and made an appointment.
The address was in a part of Paris I had never been to. I had to ask several times to find the house which had no number or name sign. When I rang the bell, two men let me into a small, dimly-lit room where they conducted a thorough body search to make sure I didn't have any hidden tape recorder, camera or microphone on me. Then they lead me into a larger room where the man I had seen at Le Chambre Séparée was sitting behind a massive desk. There wasn't any place for me to sit.
The 'Marquis' was not at all pleased when he found out that I had come on my own.
"When you phoned I assumed that you did so on your master's instructions, but now it seems you contacted me on your own whim," he growled.
I explained that my partner didn't actually consider himself my master and hadn't shown any interest in taking ownership of me. I, on the other hand, wanted to be disciplined and I was looking for advice on how to get him to use and punish me.
My desire to submit to a master pleased the man. His manner became slightly more amenable, but he explained to me that it wasn't possible to train a slave on her own. The master had to give permission and specify his exact requirements.
"We train slaves on the specific request of their masters. We also provide opportunities for masters to exchange ideas and experiences. A slave cannot be trained without a master, or without the master's active participation. The master decides how strict the training will be, how much pain the slave will experience, how much abuse and humiliation she will suffer."
This explanation terminated my visit as far as the man was concerned. He called his assistants to accompany me to the door.
I wasn't going to give up so soon. "Can't you at least tell me what's involved in the training? Can't you test me to see if I'm suitable?"
The man looked at me. His eyes seemed to pass straight through me. Was he going to insult me? Was he going to tell me to leave before he lost his temper about my insistence, about my wasting his time?
He sighed. "What your training will involve depends on your master's decision. There's no way I can tell you what he'll want us to do to you."
After a short pause, the man suddenly said, "Take off your clothes, quick!"
The tone of his voice didn't allow any hesitation. Luckily, I wasn't wearing anything under my dress. I just had to undo the zipper in the back and let the dress slide down to the floor. Then I removed my sandals and stood naked in front of him.
"Spread your legs, show me your cunt!"
I did as he had ordered, pulling my pussy lips open to let him have a clear look at my clit and vagina. Without warning he pushed a finger inside me. I couldn't help gasping at this unexpected touch.
"I didn't give you permission to react," he barked. "But at least you're wet. That's a good sign."
This remark pleased me. It felt like getting an A at school.
"Now your ass."
I turned around, leant forward and pulled my cheeks apart with both hands. I tried to relax my hole to show him that my ass was ready and willing. Again, he pushed a finger inside me. I almost lost my balance, but managed to suppress any sound.
"You seem to be a quick learner."
This pleased me even more than his first praise.
"Bend down, hold on to your ankles."
I saw a cane in his hand. There was a swishing noise as the cane moved rapidly through the air. I screamed as it bit into my bottom. He didn't give me any time to recover. A quick succession of blows rained down on my bottom and the back of my thighs. The whole punishment probably took less than a minute, but when he stopped hitting me I was sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face.
"You may stand upright." He handed me paper tissues to dry my tears.
"You have a lot to learn. But you show some promise. The punishment I gave you was only a small foretaste of what you will go through if you decide to persevere with your wish. Think about it carefully. Talk about it with your master. He is the only person to whom you may mention this conversation. If he wants you to be trained as his slave, and if you agree, then come back to me."
My bottom and the back of my thighs hurt when I put my dress back on and left. I was pleased with the man's comments about my suitability and frightened thinking about the pain which might be involved. But the main problem hadn't gone away: I still needed to find a way of convincing Ramon that he wanted to train me as his slave, that I needed the discipline of a firm hand.
Ramon had not reacted to my repeated declarations that I belonged to him. He treated me as an independent woman who had the right to decide what she wanted to do. I expected him to tell me, to order me, but he merely suggested. He never asked me what I got up to during the week. But what may seem to be lack of interest in me was merely the reflection of his deep respect for women, particularly beautiful women.
As far as Ramon was concerned, I was his when we were together, but a free individual when we were apart. He only took control when we made love. But even then I felt that he was constantly checking my reaction, concerned not to do anything that would hurt or otherwise displease me. When he fucked me hard and fast, it was because I begged for it, not because he had decided to use me that way.
I'm sure he would never have forced me against my will to take his cock in my rear - and in a way I was grateful to him for that. I had taken it upon myself to get my ass ready for his big cock. I would have loved it if he had ordered me to do so.
I had decided by myself to appear near-naked at the cocktail party and on other occasions, and only wearing underwear during the fashion show. Maybe he didn't want me to expose myself like this to the public at large? Had I been presumptuous, attracting so much attention to myself on his big event? I would have loved it if he had told me how much or how little he wanted me to wear on these occasions and would have followed his instructions to the letter. I wanted him to lay down the law and punish me mercilessly in case I didn't obey.
I felt that I couldn't handle the freedom he gave me. I was in danger of letting my 'insatiable horniness', as Charlotte had called it, take control, of pursuing my own sexual gratification. Even when my actions had the declared purpose of pleasing Ramon, I knew deep down inside that I was mainly satisfying my own lust.
The 'anal training' sessions with Roxy had given rise to some of the wildest sex I ever experienced. I enjoyed it so much that I accepted the ensuing punishment without much trepidation. And how much of my eagerness to be able to offer Ramon my ass had been driven by the desire to feel three cocks inside me at the same time?
I was in serious danger of getting out of control. I wanted Ramon to put me on a leash, keep me on a short rein. Otherwise my rampant sex drive might make me overstep the mark. I was worried that I might offend or hurt Ramon with my wayward behaviour - if I hadn't already done so. The big problem was to make him understand that I needed him to take control of me.
How could I get Ramon to the point where he'd want to punish me? Should I do something that would make him angry about me? But what? Refuse to have sex with him? Impossible! As soon as I came near him, I wanted nothing more than offer my body to his hands, his mouth, his cock; let him fuck me whichever way he pleased. I wouldn't be able to refuse him anything.
Roxy knew that she would be disciplined whenever she committed a punishable offence. Although it seemed that Michel made up the rules about what was punishable as he went along, punishment usually came after Roxy had sex with a guest or a maid.
Roxy didn't consider herself a slave. She simply accepted the role of the wife in an old-fashioned marriage and Michel exercised his right of sole ownership and sentenced her to whatever castigation he considered appropriate. If that resulted in his wife appearing naked in front of servants or visitors, so be it. And Roxy enjoyed exposing herself and loved the wild sex that usually followed a punishment.
Should I tell Ramon about my sexual adventures, my nights with Caroline, for example? If Michel punished Roxy - and me - whenever I had sex with her, wouldn't Ramon have reason to punish me - and possibly Caroline - for the passionate sex I enjoyed in her bed?
What if I confessed that I had been unfaithful to him, that I had had sex with another woman without his knowledge or approval? My guess was that he would probably forgive me. Or say that I was an independent person, that my desire to try out different things was only natural, and as he didn't have a pussy I could lick, it was logical that I would find a woman who was willing to oblige.
What if someone else denounced me and told him that I needed to be disciplined, otherwise I would get out of hand?
Who could this someone else be? Could I get Michel to have a word with Ramon, from man to man, from practicing disciplinarian to not yet practicing castigator? I was worried that Ramon would regard such advice as unwanted interference by Michel. Ramon might say that he prefers to cure me with love and understanding rather than by spanking my bare bottom.
What if the denunciation came from a woman? Would Caroline, my fellow offender, be willing to confess to Ramon? And possibly risk to be punished as well? I remembered that Caroline had told me about playing 'slave for a day' games with Billy. This was a lot less than what I wanted for myself, but she might be able to give me some advice.
Ramon had clearly enjoyed the threesome with Lola. Should I serve him by bringing him other women he could fuck? Caroline would be a possible candidate. I was sure that Ramon would enjoy making love to this beautiful woman with the never-ending legs. I was also convinced that Caroline would jump at the opportunity to experience for herself what it's like to be fucked by Ramon. Should I arrange another threesome? I was even willing to let Ramon fuck Caroline on his own if it should turn out that that was what he wanted.
But was Caroline keen enough on such an encounter to risk being punished for our escapades? My idea was to let her tell Ramon about our weekly get-togethers, maybe also denounce me for my other trespasses. And let her declare that I needed firm control for my own good. It seemed risky but possible. I decided to talk to Caroline as soon as I had a chance.
My weekly visits to Caroline's apartment, usually on Wednesdays, had become a permanent feature of my timetable. We would enjoy a light meal together and then feast our eyes, hands and mouths on each other's body.
Caroline had embarked on an active sex life, just as she had said she would during our first night together, but she always kept Wednesday night free for me. I had managed to arrange my schedule so that I didn't have any commitments on Thursday morning. More often than not, I would laze a little longer in bed after Caroline left for work; then I would shower and enjoy the breakfast Caroline left ready for me in the kitchen.
Caroline knew about my relationship with Ramon, of course. The poster on which I was wearing lingerie designed by him had been the reason for our first encounter. I had told Caroline how much I adored him, how his touch made me tingle all over, how much I enjoyed it when he made love to me. But I had never gone into any details about the kind of things Ramon and I got up to when we were together.
Caroline had turned into one of Ramon's most faithful customers. She was constantly scouring the shops for his creations and most weeks she would welcome me wearing her latest purchase. I was in the enviable position of first admiring this most beautiful of women in her sexy attire and then being allowed to remove the ethereal garments to reveal her curvaceous body.
Our evening together had only just started. We had undressed each other without haste, the way gourmets approach a meal they know they are going to enjoy. Caroline's gentle hands had caressed my breasts ever so lightly, brushing over my nipples. She had kissed my lips; her tongue had invaded my mouth while her hands had roamed over my neck, my back, my bottom.
I thought the time was right to present my dilemma and a possible solution to Caroline. I started by asking her casually whether she would like to meet Ramon. Her answer was emphatic. "I thought you'd never ask."
Caroline had seen the famous picture of Ramon leaving the launch party framed between two semi-nudes, and had commented on his good looks. She had also asked who the other women on the photo was and I had told her a little about Lola and what the three of us got up to the night that picture had been taken. Quite possibly, Caroline was already hoping for a similar experience, but if that thought hadn't yet invaded her brain, I was going to make sure that it would turn into an obsession before the night was over.
Explaining to her what I wanted, what I felt I needed, turned out to be more difficult than I had expected.
"What do you mean, 'be his slave'? This is the twenty-first century. Slavery belongs in the dark ages. Luckily it has been abolished a long time ago - at least officially.
"What do you mean 'share you with whoever he wants to'? Do want him to be your pimp?"
She clearly thought I had taken leave of my senses.
However, she could relate to my wish to let Ramon do with me what he wants, because that urge had been present in her relationship with Billy. I could demonstrate to her that my desire was just an extension of this concept. If Ramon could do whatever he wants with me, then he was my owner. If he was my owner, then I was his slave and he could share me with others if this pleased him.
Caroline shook her head. "I never thought you were the submissive type. That's not how you come across to me. I always thought of you as an independent, liberated woman who does pretty much what she wants - modern rather than medieval."
"What makes you think I'm independent, liberated, modern rather than medieval?" I asked, making a point of repeating the words she had just used.
"Well, let's take us for example. Does Ramon know and approve of our weekly get-together?"
"That's exactly the point. He doesn't know and he never asks what I get up to when I'm not with him. He seems to think what I do when I'm not with him is none of his business. He makes it too easy to betray his trust. I'm worried that having too much freedom may lead me astray."
I wanted to make sure Caroline understood what exactly I expected from Ramon. "It doesn't have to be that way. I have a friend who gets a good spanking whenever she has sex with another woman," I explained.
Caroline grew apprehensive. "You mean you want him to punish you for seeing me? Wouldn't that spell the end of or weekly get-together?"
"Not necessarily. My friend gets punished regularly, but it doesn't stop her doing it," I said with a defiant smile.
"How do you know all this? Has she told you?" Caroline wanted to know.
"Not only did she tell me, I saw it happening. In fact, Ramon was there when I witnessed her punishment for the first time."
"For the first time? You mean you've seen it more than once?"
"I have indeed, and I got spanked as well for my part in her offences."
"And the other times Ramon was not present?" Caroline sounded a bit like a detective unravelling a murder mystery.
I told her the story about my birthday present to Ramon: how I had asked Roxy for advice, how she had put me through her 'anal training' course, how I had licked her pussy in return and how Michel had punished both of us for our transgressions - but I was careful not to mention any names. I also talked about Marie's involvement in my training, my visit to the sex shop and the events at Ramon's birthday party.
My account left Caroline open-mouthed, not knowing what to say.
Finally, I told her how I had 'paid' for our visit to Le Chambre Séparée by letting Michel spank and belt my bottom.
"It seems that my friend had been well-behaved that day, because she was fully dressed and wasn't due to receive any punishment. But she undressed in sympathy with me and held me tight when her husband marked my bottom with his belt, making sure that I wouldn't try to wriggle away and expose the tender parts of my body to his fury.
"Later, when I lay on the carpeted floor, sobbing uncontrollably, when the heat had moved from my bottom to my pussy and I begged the husband to fuck me, my friend had guided his cock into my sopping wet pussy and kissed my tears away as her husband pounded into me, giving me instant relief."
This story left Caroline even more aghast. "God, you're a real slut," she said eventually.
I didn't like the way she pronounced this word. It hurt a lot more than when my father used it.
"Do you realize what you've done? How could you get another man to fuck you behind Ramon's back? It doesn't matter whether that man's wife was present or not. What matters is that you have betrayed Ramon's trust. You say you consider yourself Ramon's property and yet you lick, suck and fuck everything that crosses your path."
I was astonished how forcefully she expressed her opinion.
"Don't get me wrong. I don't want to sound like a moralist. Hell, during the last six months I've probably slept with more men than you've had in your entire life. But in my case it's always clear that I'm only after a one-night stand. What you did is morally wrong because it goes against the fabric of your relationship, something which should be based on mutual trust and respect."
Caroline continued, "I can see now that you need someone to collar and shackle you."
"That's what I was trying to tell you from the beginning! I told Ramon many times that I want to belong to him," I explained. "I want him to treat me like his possession, like his slave, but he doesn't take any notice of my desire.
"Maybe, if somebody tells him what I've done, he'll punish me for it. And once he accepts that he has the right to punish me, he'll also agree that he has the right to decide what I may and may not do. Maybe, if somebody explains to him that I need it for my own good, he'll take note."
"And you think that 'somebody' should be me?"
I nodded, hoping she would agree.
Caroline went into thinking mode. When she had examined all aspects of my proposal she said, "I don't feel comfortable with this. Picture this: we meet, you introduce me to Ramon and I say, as casually as possible, 'By the way, I have been sleeping with your girlfriend once a week for the last couple of months.' That doesn't seem a likely scenario.
"And if Ramon uses the same logic as your friend's husband I'd get spanked as well for my part in this story. Thanks, but no, thanks. There has to be a better way of getting the message through to him. Maybe we could arrange for him to find out by accident?"
Caroline turned to me. "Listen, my brain isn't functioning very well right now, because my pussy has been waiting for a visit from your tongue for almost an hour. I can think much better after a 'Jacqueline's special'."
She rolled onto her back and spread her legs, leaving no doubt what she expected from me.
I couldn't possibly ignore her request and deny myself the pleasure of tasting her delicious pussy. I put my tongue to work and soon her entire body responded to my touch. She had been waiting far too long for this treat and tried to make up for lost time, climaxing only minutes after I had started to lick her in earnest. But one orgasm wasn't enough to get her brain cells activated. She wanted more and I promptly delivered.
After Caroline had recovered from my assault on her pussy, she declared, "I've had a brilliant idea!" Then she explained her plan to get the message that I needed tighter control through to Ramon without anybody having to confess or denounce me. What she found best about her plan was that she would come out of it smelling of roses, completely innocent, a victim of my deviousness.
I listened carefully to her idea. It seemed risky but possible. What left me feeling a little uneasy was that I was going to carry all the guilt on my shoulders, but if I was honest I had to admit that this was a fair reflection of the truth.
The plan having been discussed in detail and agreed on, I thought it was now time for me to receive some attention.
We had been rolling around on the bed in a tight embrace while we discussed Caroline's strategy, each one taking the top position when she spoke. As soon as I voiced my request Caroline got on top of me, her moist pussy rubbing against mine. Her breasts swayed tantalizingly close to my mouth but I was unable to reach them because she had my arms pinned down onto the bed, raised above my head. There was a devilish glint in her eyes as she asked, "Would you like to find out what it's like to be a sex slave?"
I knew that saying yes would mean delivering myself into Caroline's hands, unconditionally, to be completely at her mercy. But how could I possibly chicken out? Hadn't I implored her to help me become Ramon's slave?
"Yes, I want to be your slave," I said, not knowing what this meant.
As she tied me spread-eagled to the four bedposts, Caroline explained that a large part of the slave games she had played with Billy had been about getting the other person to do exactly what one wanted. The slave was ordered to pleasure the master without consideration for his or her own satisfaction. But as I had already satisfied her lust many times over, she wasn't going to use me this way. She was going to let me experience some of the things Billy used to do to her.
I heard Caroline rummage through her drawers until she found what she was looking for. When the item came into my field of vision, I knew instinctively what it was. Something I had read about many times but had never seen in real life: a pair of nipple clamps, linked by a thin metal chain. I stopped breathing as she fixed the frightening and at the same time innocent-looking contraptions to my nipples.
There wasn't much pain as the clamps firmed around my tender flesh, just the feeling of a tight grip. The discomfort increased, however, as time went on.
A gaggle of vibrators descended upon my pussy and the surrounding area. Caroline used them to take me to a wonderful state of arousal, just short of reaching an orgasm. But rather than pushing me over the edge, she left me hanging there. Vibrators danced along my slit, darted inside my pussy, teased my clit, peeked into my ass in a seemingly never-ending succession of assaults. Whenever I arched my hips towards the vibrator to achieve a more intense contact, the chain attached to the nipple clamps tightened and increased the pain in my poor, tortured nipples.
I begged Caroline to let me come, but I could see from her face how much she enjoyed my ordeal and that she had no intention of ending my agony anytime soon. Every time a vibrator entered my pussy, I tried to grab it, hold on to it, but they always slipped away, leaving me yearning for a deeper penetration, a firmer touch.
I had already resigned myself to the thought that my torment would last for a lot longer, when Caroline suddenly stopped, switched off all the vibrators and started to put them away.
"Oh, no!" I cried. "You can't stop now. Not without letting me come. Come back with those vibrators, you rotten bitch." My protests turned into a scream when she pulled on the chain linking the nipple clamps and tore them off with a quick jerk.
My nipples were on fire. It seems that they had been deprived of blood supply which was now rushing back with a vengeance, filling the tiny blood-vessels to bursting. It felt like a thousand needles had been thrust into my nipples, all at once. They felt raw; they seemed swollen, about to explode.
The feeling made me think of Caroline's nipples. I had always admired her porous nipples which seemed to expand in size when she was aroused and were extremely sensitive to the slightest touch. Was this the result of her husband torturing her like this? Would my nipples become like hers if she used the clamps on me more often?
A large feather had appeared from somewhere and Caroline trailed it over my upper body. It was an electrifying sensation, strange but very exciting. When she passed the feather over my nipples, barely touching them, my body seemed to lift off the bed, my arms and legs tearing on my restraints. I erupted in an explosive orgasm that left me drained of energy.
Caroline untied me and wrapped me gently in her arms. My nipples felt as if they had been sandpapered; they ached when they made contact with her skin.
"You're a dangerous lunatic," I said. "You ought to be locked up. You nearly killed me."
"If you tell me in all honesty that you didn't enjoy this, I promise that I'll never do it again."
I decided to keep my mouth shut and my options open.
"This is only a part of what Billy used to do to me. Sometimes he would put a clamp on my clit. It was fantastic. The sensation was so overwhelming, I used to pass out when he stroked my clit with the feather afterwards."
This gave me something to look forward to as we fell asleep, locked in a tender embrace.