1 - Morning of Passion

 

The air was sweet and the sun, still low to the east, spread a gentle warmth. Reaching the shallow rise between the house and the valley, Karen stopped, eased a wisp of corn-pale hair from her cheek and, shading her hazel eyes, looked back at the house whose white painted arches, terracotta roof, surrounding gardens and trees basked in a peaceful glow. Beyond the house, the tennis court lay deserted and a little sad. Between the front of the house and the curving driveway, the pool shimmered invitingly, its cluster of tables, chairs and bright sunshades accenting the background greenery with splashes of colour. The steady chirping of insects served to broaden the feeling of peace and tranquility, which enveloped the land. Beyond the gardens lay the main road, beyond which the vineyards of Languedoc stretched into the distance as far as the eye could see. Karen did not expect to find anybody up and about at so early an hour. She had awakened at daybreak, showered, and with no special goal in mind, set out walking. Reaching the shallow rise between the house and the valley, she stopped, feeling the world was her own.

She thought about how her life had been altered during the year she had been at the house, recalling how she had applied for the secretarial job and remembering, too, the rainy day when first she had met Sonia at the interview in England. She recalled her initial misgivings upon being informed Sonia and her girls were involved in the SM and fetish scene on a commercial scale, recalled, too, the initial loneliness she had experienced because her situation excluded her from the esoteric and bizarre activities with which the others there were so involved. How could she have foreseen that, in spite of her upbringing and attitude, she would have found such good company amongst them? And how could she have known that the one whom she had regarded as devious and manipulative would draw her so deeply into her web of sensuality? Everyone at the house must by now have suspected, without the slightest hint of disapproval, that she and Sonia were more than employer and employee, more than just friends. She hoped they did not realise how Sonia had introduced her privately into some of the most voluptuous and devious of practices, inducing her orgasms as easily as others might induce laughter.

Karen placed fingers upon the silver locket where it sat above her breasts. The locket was precious to Sonia, but Sonia had given it to her as a token of their intimacy, to keep secretly so that no one else should know. Even when she had returned to England, to consider the direction her life was taking, she had kept the locket. But Karen saw no point in pretending, for some, including Valerie, surely knew of that which had remained unspoken. But their world had its own frame of references, just as real and relevant as those Karen had been brought up with and had once taken as being the norm. In her wildest imaginings, she could not have envisaged some of the things that had happened to her since her arrival.

At first she had felt deep shame over what seemed to be the most improper acts of carnality but if the demons of guilt were stalking her, then at least she was in good company. There was a demon, of course, and she was getting to know it well, for it was the demon of lust which had been allowed too little freedom for too long. And having tasted freedom, it wanted more, even more than she had so far ventured to permit, for she had not yet dared acknowledge that it might one day be given full rein. Sometimes her conscience spoke to her in silent disapproval, arising most often when she was alone at night.

Karen continued over the grassy rise until the house was out of sight and she could see across the wooded valley to the distant sea. There to her right, empty now in the sunlight, was the wooden bench where she often sat, sometimes alone, often with Angela, the one who had shown understanding and helped her through times of doubt. The seat stood beneath the pine tree that provided it with welcome shade when the sun was higher and the day hotter. Perhaps Angela would join her in this idyllic place. If not, she would read for an hour or so then take a swim before breakfast, for under the loose-fitting purple and white beach dress, was the little gold and blue striped swim slip she had bought late last summer in Beziers. It was auburn-haired mischievous, Annette who had talked her into buying it from the boutique, for such an audaciously brief garment was not one she would have cared to be seen in until that day. She was aware of the cord passing down between the cheeks of her behind and of the small, elasticated front cupping her shaven pussy, caressing like a soft hand. The hair in that region had been removed permanently in the beauty parlour. She had been held down, unable to speak or to prevent them doing it. Afterwards, they had served her voluptuously, had driven her to a wild climax. The memory of it made her heart beat faster.

She sat and placed her shoulder bag down on the bench. With eyes closed, she listened to the insects then reached into the bag to pull out her cigarettes and lighter. Smoking was her concession to another sin, but one that was forbidden in the house. The smoke drifted, coiled lazily upward. Karen browsed through a paperback novel then laid it aside. Delighting in the gentle warmth, she remained as she was until the cigarette was finished. Kicking off her shoes, she arose, and looking about to confirm she was indeed as alone as she wished to be, Karen removed her dress. She placed the dress over the back of the seat, turned to face the sun and stretched out her limbs. It was good to feel the caress of the morning heat. She ran fingers down over firm breasts, over the pink nipples, down her sides and over the curve of her thighs. Sitting down, she leant back against the dress and closed her eyes, telling herself that this was the first morning ever and that she was quite alone in the world.

Her thoughts drifted, a petal upon a lazy stream, touching upon the things she had done and enjoyed doing, and the secrets that had been revealed in the new life she had embarked upon. Her hand moved over her stomach until her fingers rested against the smooth flesh above her pussy. She listened to the birds and heard the whine of jet engines above. Opening her eyes, she pushed down the G-string slip, and laid it aside. Spreading her legs, she watched as the airliner, coming in from the west, banked and began its descent towards Montpellier. Her fingers alighted upon her focus of pleasure and she began to stroke, slowly at first. As she watched the passing jet, she thought that if it came down low enough, they might all see and know what she was doing to herself. But, of course the plane was too far away. Even so, the thought of being observed by all those passers-by, people who would never know or see her again, amused and urged her on. Her fingers moved more quickly and entered further into her inflamed pussy, stroking with the rhythm of her heartbeat. The heat Karen felt now was much greater than that from the morning sun. She dismissed the world from her thoughts, letting back her head as the effervescence welled up from her loins and spread throughout her every nerve. Karen began to sigh, quietly at first, but as unmeasured time drifted by her breathing grew louder. Her hand moved quicker still, her mouth fell open as she approached the point of no return. The tide of pleasure overwhelmed, Karen let out a long cry, her body set rigid as crystal with the flames of pleasure glowing through.

When she opened her eyes, the light dazzled and she raised a hand to shield her face from the glare. The wide blue sky was empty, the airliner gone. She was reaching out for her g-string when a voice from behind called, 'Hi Karen!'

She twisted about, startled. 'Oh, Angie! I - What are you -?'

Angela, with blue-grey eyes and long, silver-blonde hair wound about her head and fastened at the side with blue clasp, stood a few paces away. 'I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to creep up on you. I was strolling along the ridge. I thought I heard someone call out just now. Did you hear anything?'

Karen's face reddened. 'No, I've been dozing in the sun. Look - er, I'm sorry,' she reached behind for her dress, 'I didn't expect anyone about so early. I just thought I'd -.'

'There's no need to be embarrassed,' laughed Angela. 'I sunbathe in the nude here myself sometimes. Who cares!'

Karen smiled sheepishly, got up and pulled on the dress. She regarded Angela in her white sleeveless cotton top and flared, blue satin mini-skirt. Angela was in her early twenties and like all the girls at the house, like Karen herself, she was beautiful. 'There's no need to get dressed on my account,' she continued. 'I'm sure we're the only ones out here.'

'No, I think I will anyway. The seat's a bit uncomfortable.' She moved along to make space. 'Are you staying for a bit? D'you fancy a cigarette?'

'Yes, I will, if you don't mind; if you don't prefer to be left alone, that is.'

'Angie, of course I don't mind. I always enjoy your company, you know that.'

Angela sat beside her. 'It's a lovely time of the day, isn't it? I always think so, anyway.'

'Yes, gorgeous,' agreed Karen.

'How come you're up and about so early on a Saturday?'

Karen held out a cigarette, saying, 'It's one of those things I always thought I should do, but never managed until now. How about you?'

'Oh, I usually get up early. The only time I have a lie-in is when we have visitors to entertain or when we put on a show. Well, you know -.'

Karen did know. Sonia had made that clear at the interview. She knew about the erotic theatre that was played out and recorded for the ever-demanding market and about the wealthy visitors who appeared at the house from time to time. And she was aware that Angela often played the submissive role in these fantasies, even though none of the girls ever broke the rules of discretion and discussed the details of their work openly.

'It doesn't seem possible that you've been here over a year,' said Angela, drawing on the cigarette.

'I did have a few weeks break back in England,' remarked Karen, 'but I know what you mean. The time has gone by quicker than I could have imagined.'

'That must mean you're happy now.'

'Yes,' replied Karen, 'I suppose I am.'

'But you're not terribly sure.'

'Well, it's not that -.'

She looked into Angela's eyes, hoping she might understand what stirred in the depths of her mind because Karen dared not express it openly. Not even to Angela.

'Look,' said Karen, 'I was thinking I might go for a swim and then have breakfast. I'd be glad if you came along too. Unless you were planning something else, that is.'

'No, I wasn't,' Angela said with a knowing look. Karen wondered if Angela understood her better than she did herself.