Buying the Virgin Box Set Four - The Virgin and the Masters: BDSM, Punishment, and Ménage between a Young Woman, her Master and her Lover

by Simone Leigh

  The following day, Richard and Beth come to visit. “Got everything you need?” asks Beth.

  “Yes, everything except the magic wand it needs to provide overnight healing for a strong, arrogant, bad-tempered patient.” comments Michael.

  “That bad?” asks Richard.

  Michael shakes his head. “You have no idea….”

  “Um, by the way….” says Richard, rubbing the side of his nose, “Er, there’s no non-embarrassing way to put this, but when you’re um…. busy…. in the middle of the night, you might want to keep the noise down. The matron down there….” He cocks his head at the door. “…. was laughing, but a bit indignant.”

  I’ve never seen Michael blush before, but he flushes scarlet, looking anywhere but at Beth and Richard.

  “Was she very annoyed?” I ask.

  “Richard chuckles. “What if she was? Oh, by the way….” He fishes in his pocket. “Will Stanton asked me to give you these. They were taken off Klempner.” He holds out his hand, dropping something into mine….

  … Two somethings: my rings. The two beautiful rings, in red and gold, and white and gold, gifted to me by my Master and my Lover, drop into my palm.

  And as I slip them back onto my finger, to sit, interlocked as one piece again, the sun is shining and my sky is blue.

  __________________________

  I sit at the table, a screen dividing the room, separating us, as Klempner seats himself at the other side. His body language is all arrogance, insolence and ‘Why am I bothering with this?’

  Two guards are here, one on either side of the screen, impassive but alert.

  Michael stays in the background, leaning against the wall, silent, purse-lipped, arms folded, watching.

  Klempner glances across at him, dismissively, then back at me. “That’d be Michael then? Where’s the other one? James, is it?”

  Michael tilts his head, but impassive, doesn’t speak.

  “Yes, this is Michael.” I say. “And James isn’t here, because he’s recovering in hospital from when your friend Corby shot him.”

  Klempner’s eyes widen.

  Surprised?

  “You didn’t know about that?”

  He sniffs. “No, they’d not told me that.” He hesitates….

  So, what do you think of that then?

  “…. What’s his condition?”

  “He’ll live, but it was touch and go for a while.”

  “And Corby?”

  “Dead. The police took him down.”

  He nods pensively, then the sneer is back. “And why are you here? For that matter, why am I here?”

  By God, but you’re an arrogant bastard….

  “Will you talk to me?”

  Let him think he’s in control….

  He leans back in his chair, arms folded, shrugging. “I don’t know. It depends what you want to ask. I don’t have a lot of incentive to co-operate, do I? They’re going to lock me up and throw away the key. And you’ll be testifying against me.”

  It’s all about control with you, isn’t it?

  Who do you remind me of……?

  Michael comes up behind me, touches me on the arm. “You want to go? You’re going to get nothing from this one.”

  I shrug him off. “No, not yet.”

  Klempner looks at Michael, his hand on my shoulder. “So, how does it work then?”

  “How does what work?”

  “You, with two of them? How does that work? Two men with one woman.” He sounds genuinely curious. For the first time since I met him, some of his naked hostility has faded. “Okay, regardless of what I said when we met before, I know you’re not a whore. So, how does it work?”

  Flushing, “I don’t see that’s got anything to do with you.”

  He sits back in his chair, coolly watching me. “Oh, you might be surprised…. You going to answer my question?”

  Why would you be interested?

  “No, because I don’t see that it’s any of your business.”

  His eyes glaze over, the aggressive stone-walling returning.

  “What’s your grudge against me?” I ask. “You said it was because of Jenkins, but I don’t believe you. There’s more to it than that. It’s not really me at all, is it? It’s to do with my mother and father?”

  “You’re going to testify against me. That hardly fills me with warmth.”

  “I don’t believe that either. If that was it, you would simply have had me murdered. You wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble you have, to capture me, hurt me, make my life miserable….”

  He sits back in his chair, regarding me, one finger pressed to his lips. “Alright Jennifer…”

  Who do you remind me of…?

  “It’s Charlotte….”

  “Alright, Charlotte. Quid pro quo. I’ll talk to you, if you talk to me.”

  ?

  What…?

  “What do you mean? You hate me. Why would you want to talk to me?”

  “I want to know about you, and how you make it work with two men.”

  What the Hell…?

  Uncertain, I glance up at Michael. He shrugs. “Your call.”

  “Alright. I’ll talk to you.” I say. “If in return, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

  Arms folded, face non-committal, “Okay. Shoot.”

  “How did you know my mother and father? What were they to you? I know you murdered my father.”

  His eyes drop.

  “Did I?”

  “I’m told by the police that you did. And I believe it.”

  “Okay, I killed Frank Conners, yes; if you’re determined to call him your father….”

  “Why?”

  “He was my friend, or I thought he was. It turned out I was wrong.”

  “So why did you think he was?”

  “We’d go out together, drinking, chasing women. You know, the things men do.

  “What was he like?”

  He sniffs. “The reliable type. Solid, dependable….”

  “Was he…. a good man?”

  His head tilts, eyes narrowing. “What sort of question is that?”

  “Did he know you were a trafficker?”

  He doesn’t reply, folds his arms, stares me down.

  I gulp. “And my mother? What about her?”

  “She was a hooker.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “He sighs. “Jennifer….

  “Charlotte….”

  “Charlotte, you don’t want to believe me. But I assure you, she was a hooker, and rather a good one. She actually enjoyed what she did; worked at the top end of the market. Charged a lot of money.”

  I swallow hard. “You said you ‘ran her’, with a string of other women….”

  “Yeah, well, I lied about that. I was running women, but your mother wasn’t one of them. Frank and I were in one of the classier hotel bars downtown. Some of the call girls would hang out there, looking for rich marks. She hit on us there….”

  Please let him be lying….

  He sees my expression. “You still don’t want to believe me? She was very good at her job. Good enough that, at first, we didn’t realise she was a professional. We thought she was just being…. friendly. And I’ll admit, when I set eyes on her, I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen….” He pauses, looking long at me. Michael’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “…. So did Frank. We took a room for the night and…. well, you know the script from there. You’ve had two guys together often enough I’m sure….”

  Don’t let him bait you….

  “So, what then?”

  “She was fun to be with. Not just a good fuck, but actually good company. We both liked her. And she seemed to like us…. Really to like us I mean, rather than just pretend to because that’s part of the job description. In the morning, we took her number, and later, we called her back. It went from there. We’d meet up with her a couple of nights a week. It became regular. And then.…”

&
nbsp; Michael’s voice is soft. “And then you realised, that you’d fallen for the woman you thought you’d just bought.”

  Klempner looks at him from under hooded eyes. “Which of course, is something you know about….”

  Michael shrugs, non-committal, then takes the seat next to me. “So, what happened then?”

  “Conners was crazy about her. Never stopped going on about her. Talked about marrying her…. She was a whore…. A high class prostitute.”

  “But a whore you were in love with too….”

  Klempner’s face freezes. The arms fold again. The aggression is back. I’m not sure where to go from here. I try another tack.

  “So, quid pro quo. What did you want to ask me?”

  “I told you. I want to know how you make it work. And why? Two men sharing you? I know all about you up to the point I had you shipped out to that farm, up north. After that, I lost track of you for a while. When Corby first told me you were testifying, I gave him instructions to find out as much as he could about you from the last few years. He tracked the records; told me about you auctioning yourself, living with two men. I thought at first, you had just grown up into just another whore. But that’s not it, is it?”

  How do I answer that?

  So, I don’t answer, just wait for more.

  “Why did you auction yourself?” he asks. “You’ve grown up looking just like her. You’re beautiful. You could have had men throwing themselves at you; throwing money at you.”

  “I didn’t want to be some man’s property. If I did that, I really would be a whore. I wanted to be myself, to go to university, have a life I chose. But I needed to raise money for the fees.”

  He frowns, looking bemused. “You sold yourself for a week, no holds barred, just to go to college?

  “Just to go to college? I needed the education it takes to get somewhere in my own right. Yes, I’ve got looks, but a woman who relies just on that, always ends up as property at some level. And looks fade in the end. What happens later? I want more than that.”

  He ponders this. “So, you had your week with them. Then what?”

  “I had the money. I started at university.”

  “And later? What? You went back? To the man, the men, that bought you?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He’s shaking his head, disbelief written large. “Why?”

  “They’d been good to me. Better than anything else I’d had up until then…”

  Klempner looks sceptical.

  I lean forward, as far as I can with the screen separating us. “Remember where I grew up.” I hiss. “You dumped me in that hellhole at Blessingmoors. Two guys being good to me, and paying me well for it, felt like Heaven.”

  Michael’s head swivels to me, but he doesn’t speak.

  “So, you went back because they were paying you again?” says Klempner, still looking confused.

  “No, they weren’t paying me. I went back, because I wanted more of it. And later, I realised …. I wanted them.”

  “You wanted them? Or you’d fallen in love with them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Both of them?”

  “Yes, in different ways.”

  “You didn’t choose between them? They didn’t try to make you choose?”

  “Choose? Why would I choose? I love them both. They both love me. They get on together. Why should I choose?”

  Michael breaks in. “That’s what happened isn’t it? With you and Conners. You both fell in love with Charlotte’s mother, and you made her choose between you. She chose Conners. And you murdered him for it, and took revenge on her.”

  My heart pounding…. Of course, that’s it…. It’s so obvious when someone else sees it first.

  My Golden Lover. You see it every time don’t you….

  Klempner’s face is a study in …. what? Regret? Self-loathing? Grief?

  He stares at the desk-top. “Yes, that’s what happened.”

  “Did she know what you were? A trafficker? A slaver?”

  “No, of course not. She only learned that later, after….”

  “After she’d already rejected you? Chosen Conners? What did you do? Threaten revenge by enslaving her? Like you did with Charlotte? Ship her out to some godforsaken part of the world where she had no hope of rescue, or of anything but a short, miserable life?”

  Klempner is silent, his expression sick.

  “The two of you paid for her in the first place….” Michael continues, relentlessly. “You knew that you didn’t have to have a conventional relationship with her; that there can be other ways of living. But when it came to it, you forced her to decide between you….”

  Klempner gazes down at the table-top. “When she learned what I was, what I did, she said I sickened her. She wouldn’t look at me.”

  “Well most people don’t like the idea of slavery….” Michael voice drips disgust. “So, for the sake of a convention you didn’t really believe in, you threatened and drove your lover into hiding, murdered your best friend, and have spent the years since trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing…. to the point that you continued your revenge against someone who was completely innocent in all of this…. Charlotte, probably Conners’ child, but possibly yours.”

  My gut clutches. I’d tried to convince myself Klempner was lying when he said he could be my father, but if all this is true, then….

  Oh God….

  “And your final revenge on her was to steal the child, to force her to grow up into slavery herself…. To fit your idea of….”

  Michael is sputtering his words, shaking his head in disbelief. “And when you found she’d grown up to look like her mother, you became obsessed with it again, determined to have the daughter forced into a life that the mother had already told you repelled her….”

  Still struggling over his words, looking sick. “Is she alive? Charlotte’s mother?”

  Klempner turns away, won’t meet Michael’s eye. “I’ve no idea. The police gave her a new identity, hid her from me. I couldn’t find her and I’ve not seen her for over twenty years. But if she’s not still alive, it’s nothing to do with me.” He shakes his head. “Don’t the two of you get jealous over her?”

  His tone acid, Michael replies, “He’s my friend. Friends share things. They don’t go to war over them.”

  Klempner stares at him, then at me. “I thought you were a complete lunatic with that performance you gave, you know. Daring us to rape you. I know what you were doing, keeping us off the other one… Whatever else you are, you’ve got balls.” He glances at Michael. “No wonder it takes two of you to keep her in line.”

  It is such an unexpected thing for him to say. Both Michael and I burst out laughing. “I’m glad you think we do.” he snorts.

  Klempner gazes at me, eyes wide. It’s disconcerting. I shift in my chair, uncomfortable.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’ve never seen you laugh before.”

  “You were always threatening to have me raped or assaulted before. Why would I be laughing?”

  He looks down.

  Is that…. regret….?

  “You do look like your mother.”

  I don’t know how to react, and I’m becoming a little nervous. Michael’s fingers creep around mine. Klempner notices. “Looks after you, doesn’t he?” Then, glancing at our hands. “Nice rings. You getting married? To this one? What about your James then? Where does he fit in? I see you have your two rings back. Is he wearing one too?”

  I ignore the question. “So, what happens now? I testify against you and your…. gang. You keep the dogs set on me…. ‘Cause I don’t doubt that even though you’re in here, you’ve still got contacts out there….” My voice chokes…. “ …. Everything I’ve done, and gone through, to make something of my life….”

  …. My voice is rising, growing louder, and I don’t care. “…. Right now, it’s wasted, isn’t it? I can’t return to my college, because if
I step outside I’m hunted, kidnapped, assaulted. You’ve made my life impossible; threatened and endangered my friends. You took my mother from me. Murdered my father. You tried to murder Michael. Corby shot James, even though he was aiming for me. He barely survived. Your men set an office tower aflame. It’s sheer luck that no-one died there. You were going to gang-rape my friend, and me. Where does my life go from here? Everything I did to drag myself of the hole that you dropped me in as a baby has been trashed. And all because you’re obsessing over something I had no hand in. I wasn’t even born for most of it….”

  My eyes are welling. Michael’s hand squeezes mine.

  Klempner watches me. “Obsessing?”

  “What you would call it?” The tears stream down my face.

  “And now you cry?” he says. “Not over threats to enslave you, ship you out, gang-rape you? But because you can’t go back to your university?”

  “What the fuck have you done to my life? I never hurt you. And my mother really did nothing either. No-one chooses who they fall in love with. But she might have stayed with both of you if you’d let it happen…. But it’s all about you, you selfish, evil bastard…. And with what they’ve got on you now, my testimony isn’t even going to make any difference. You’re in here to stay, but you’ve got me in prison too….”

  I’m crying hard, sobbing, Michael’s arms around my shoulders, but as I look up, Klempner is watching us, his expression unreadable.

  It becomes embarrassing. I wipe my eyes on the back on my hand, my nose on my sleeve, before Michael, from somewhere, produces a tissue.

  Finally, from out of the silence, Klempner speaks. “Jennifer…. Charlotte. Go get your life back.”

  I gulp down, hard. “What?”

  “I said, get your life back. You’re right. You appearing in court, no matter what your testimony, isn’t going to make a difference to me at this point. Go home. Go back to your university. Go find your mother if you want to, if she’s still alive. You won’t have any more trouble, or at least none that I’m responsible for.”

  Incredulity dripping from every word. “You’re kidding.” says Michael. “Just like that, it’s all different?”

  Klempner stares up at the ceiling. “Yeah… just like that. I suppose you won’t believe me, but, for what it’s worth to either of you, you have my word. Whatever else happens in your lives, I won’t be behind your problems…. But there’s a price….”