Friday, 1 July 2016

Farewell, my fair child

The place is a café - as always, in this kind of encounters, everybody wants them to happen in some public area, with plenty of witnesses.

Lord Jonathan Maxwell and is Wife, Lady Anna Motblanc-Maxwell, feel out of place, but only almost imperceptibly. Noblesse oblige, after all, to meet the plebe mid-way - but only some times, of course.

Lord Maxwell keeps his face straight, but he is nervous - the P.I. on his retainer has found no proof that the minute blonde girl on the other side of the table, on the left,  is anybody but who she affirm to be.

Isabel Medina, a 26 years old kindergarten teacher that is fed with her vanilla life.

The second part of her affirmations, and the reason why they are all here, is still to be proved.

It is her companion, that makes him nervous...the woman on the right.

The one who's not as much as beautiful as she is... impressive.

Maybe taller than Lord Maxwell's own 6'2, with a bright open smile in a big, round, black face, and arms thick as those of a  male heavyweight wrestler.

She also shows the confidence of someone who clearly knows, not just believes, that nothing - in the world - can harm her, and the behavior of a natural "dom". Of one of those lucky fellows  that doesn't even have to give orders, to be obeyed - and who do not really care if they are obeyed, either. Because it never happens that their orders are contested.

Not now, for sure, as she talks to Isabel.

"Izzy, I'd like a hot chocolate -  the waitresses seems all very busy. Would you mind going to the bar and fetching it? You really are a treasure, dear" - the pretty blonde now gone, the couple faces in an awkward silence the unknown black woman. This latter doesn't keep her silence for long.

"I am Keisha Lawson, Isabel current 'master'."

Jonathan and Anna exchange a glance, surprised.

"We thought that she was unattached,... with no current sentimental ties." -  the voice of Lady maxwell is 
calm, but a shade of worry reverberates below its velvety surface.
"In a way she is. We were lovers, I do not love her any more..." - a pause, and both Anna and Jonathan think that this is not really true -  "... at least, not in the way that she needs."

"So, you are not a top, any more?" - Jonathan  sees his wife become more attentive, as he does... They never met an "ex" "dominant". Their share of fakes, of course, as these are ubiquitous, but never an "ex".

"I used to be, but I have been freed from the demon that nourished that part of me - quite literally -..." - the strangest smile appears in her face; whatever she meant, it is funny for her- "... so, I  am not  able to give her... that. Which is where you people come in."

"Wait, is this a 'cession'? I thought that these things happened only in bad erotic novels."

Jonathan signals Anna to stop... remarking how odd is the situation is not going to change it, and this stranger could easily take it for a sneer.

"Indeed... I do not love her that way, but I still care for her, and she still considers me her master. She fancy your proposal, Lord Maxwell,  but she will defer to me. If I decide that you are unworthy of her devotion, she will respect my opinion and wait for someone else."

"You are giving her away?"

"Only to someone that can care for her, and safeguard her as well as he, she, it or they can satisfy her urges. Which is not so straightforward, after all." - she takes a peek above her massive shoulder - "Here she come... isn't she marvellous?"

And, indeed, the small blonde is very pretty, but this is not what primes in Jonathan's mind... could he do the same? Say farewell to the woman he loves, only because he cannot satisfy her sexually? Or, better said, para-sexually.

Probably not - he would feel rejected, diminished, angry, jealous and petty, like most males would.He suspects that the fact that Keisha is a woman may have a part, in the unnervingly calm demeanour of the tall black. Maybe not - some people are just that big, inside, that nothing can make them small or petty; in the rare occasions he meets some of them, they unnerve Jonathan deeply.

His lavish childhood notwithstanding, he could not really say the same about himself -or his like-wise high-born wife. If he was not sure that the big black was a waitress, or something, he would feel an atrocious pang of jealousy.

"You three seemed quite busy. What were you talking about?"

"Oh, the usual - weather, sport, world politics and the fine ethical quandaries of BDSM relationships. I was going to ask our guests what provisions were going to make, to accommodate your presence in their house, and to obviate the fact that, to take your new position, you will have to forego a work that you love."

Big hearted, but still practical-minded - Jonathan was reassured. Nothing is more dangerous than a big-hearted idealist who has no connections to reality.

Isabel weaves her head, and looks at the older couple interrogatively - with a very child-like air.

"Well, it is our intention to - officially - employ ms. Medina as my wife's second personal assistant. She will receive a remuneration substantially higher than her current one, full health and social security benefits. and a generous exit bonus, should her employment be terminated by us."

Pocket change, really, but Jonathan understood that this what a basic matter of survival, for a  younger plebeian. Following the dream is much more nice, if it doesn't entail the spectre of complete destitution in old age, so he decided for a similar treatment for whoever was the woman that decided to become his, and Anna's, "unicorn".

After meeting Isabel's formidable guardian - God, the strength that emanated from that black bulk - he now knew that it was, likely, the main reason why they were here today. 

Isabel smiled warmly, raising her eyebrows while looking at her companion, for counsel - or confirmation.

"We'll have to take a look at the paperwork, after. What about her living quarters?"

"We are having a big steel cage being assembled in our dungeon, even as we speak." - Lady Maxwell's voice betrays her excitation - it is evident that she already tastes the show of the young blonde completely shaved, naked and enchained inside the cage.

"Of course, we have also reserved her a normal room, in case the harshness of the imprisonment proved to be too much for her body" - Jonathan feels pressed to add, to mitigate his wife's blunder; "what's the matter with Anna", he thinks, before seeing the smile suddenly appeared on the black woman's face.

What was so hilarious in "the harshness of the imprisonment proved too much for her body?"

The four continued chatting, for a while...

It became evident that Isabel didn't really care much for her own destiny, and had completely delegated the issue of her future to Keisha.

This was more than a bit disconcerting, as Jonathan shared his wife scepticism - this things never happens in real life, only in bad books.

An accord was reached - Isabel would have spent the next three weeks unloading her old life, while the Maxwell finished the preparations for her captivity.

Finally, Isabel said "Let's see again in 21 days, at the top of Foel Lûs" and sprinted off, leaving  her friend and the Maxwells, ever more perplexed, behind.

"She is a bit of a airhead, isn't she?" -  Jonathan Maxwell said it, in a tone between amusement and worry.

"In a way, she is" - Now that she was out of the slightly encroached position she had in the coffee table, Jonathan could fully appreciate the huge - the word took a new sense for him - woman.

She was 6'4", with arms like the chains of a battleship's anchor.

If she had been "the master" of Isabel, he and Anna had some big shoes to fill - size 12 and a half, by the look of them.

"Does she understand that she is going to become a property? Our property?"

The big woman turned her head toward him, suddenly... quizzical? He had made a mistake, he shouldn't have used those words- he clearly felt it.

"I think that you are under some misconceptions, Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell" - there was irony, in that calm voice - "You have been offered the possession of one Ms. Isabel Medina, for the length of your natural life. Possession, not ownership."

"Wait, you said that you couldn't care for her anymore - now, she'll be yours even while she is with us? Fascinating."

"Her ownership stays with her creator. I was in charge of taking care of her, which entailed being her master, giving her order, and satisfying her peculiar necessities. Now, you will be... but her owner does not change."

"Her creator? God?" - "The world is beautiful because there is one of anything, indeed", the thought crossed Jonathan's mind in a flash.

"Kind of 'god' - different spelling." - again, the big woman oscillated between pensive, mocking and serious, in the space of a phrase - "You are now her guardians..." - the smile suddenly opens wide - "...which doesn't really represent much of a change, for her; She has always been an owned property under guardianship, she still will be one. Why should she be fazed by the change, when there is none?"

The tall woman's eyes pierce Jonathan - he could swear that he feels her gaze rebound inside his skull - "So, you see... being under my command, under yours, working as a teacher with a bunch of ass-hole kids, lying naked of the floor of your mansion day in day out, she doesn't care. For her the change is, really, negligible"

It took Jonathan some seconds, to try to digest all this - and fail.

Looking at Keisha walking away, he tells his wife "What have I gotten us into, Anna?"

"Oh, man-up, Jonathan. It is going to be fine... if things will not work out, we'll rescind her contract, pay her and look for someone else. But I think that Isabel really is the one for us."

They were both right.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to point me out conceptual, orthographical, grammatical, syntactical or usage's errors, as well as anything else