Amelie takes the quartz and the onyx, closes her eyes, mutters something e throws them toward the amethyst. The quartz falls right next to it almost touching it; the black onyx rolls far from it, in the perfect clockwise direction of the spiral. The old lady shakes her head and looks at Sibylle.
«You will choose Claude.»
Sibylle cheers with a joyful scream, then a long silence follows, a silence in which both the women are lost in their thoughts staring at the stones.
«But— What about the onyx», says Sibylle, «will it disappear from my life?»
Amelie sighs and nods slowly.
«I'm afwaid so, deaw. When you choose a man you do it to follow youw heawt, don't you? What's wwong, Sibylline? Awe you stawting to have doubts?» asks Amelie with a sly smile.
«No, simply I feel a bit sad, but it's the right thing to do, believe me. As you said he is just a shadow, a man with no face. And I want to go back with my husband, Amelie, I want to get back together with the man I fell in love with many years ago.»
«That man doesn't exists anymowe, my deaw. If that man wewe been the same you would have been still with him. But he left without looking back. So why do you pewsist in wanting him back?»
«Because that's what I want and I fight for what I want!»
Amelie frowns heavily.
«Sibylline, deaw, awen't you Taoist? Shouldn't you follow the “non-action” pwinciple?»
«Yes, but I can't! I must—», she pauses realizing she is saying something stupid.
«Sibylline, deaw, can you please explain to me what “non-action” means again? Does it mean non acting, pewhaps?»
Sibylle shakes her head.
«No, it means not to force the events, not to struggle in order to push things in the direction you want them to go, because we don't know the whole picture of destiny.»
«That's wight, my deaw. Please, wemind me why is that.»
«Because we are children of the universe, of the events, of the changes. We shouldn't fight against those forces, we must accept them.»
«That's wight again, my deaw. Now, you have to undewstand what's the wight thing to do, the thing that will bwing peace in the futuwe and then you just have to accept it. As it will be done into you it will be done in the univewse. Nevew gwieve ovew when things don't go the way you want, and you — my deaw — awe doing exactly that. Youw desiwe to have Claude back at all costs it's moving the whole univewse so that it can happen. And it will happen.»
«But that's exactly what I want!»
«What you want could not be what you weally need, silly! You awe fowcing the events!»
«But I do love Claude.»
«And he'll be the one you'll choose. You will have youw Claude, losing this one.» says Amelie picking up the black onyx to putting it back in the white lace sachet. But she stops and hands it to Sibylle.
«Hewe, deaw, keep it.»
«What? No! I don't want keep it, I know what they mean to you!»
«It's the stone that asked me to be given to you. It told me that wants to be kept by you fow a while.»
«But I—»
«One day you'll give it back to me, deaw, don't wowwy, I'm just lending it to you.»
Sibylle takes it and, as soon as her hand touches it, she feels a strange chill on her back. She looks at Amelie.
«Who gave it to you?»
«It belonged to my gweat gwandfathew. My fathew told me that his gwandfathew found it in the wood duwing a full Moon night. A moonbeam coming thwough the twees lit the stone which was laying on the gwound neaw a stweam.»
«Beautiful. I fear to lose it, Amelie.»
«Well, if you'll lose it... it means it wasn't meant to be with you.»
«But in this way you will lose it too!»
«Same thing goes fow me: if it won't come back to me it means it doesn't belong to me anymowe. It's the stone that choose with whom to stay.»
«Intriguing.» murmurs Sibylle looking at the black onyx.
«Keep it safe, Sibylline, because it nevew asks to be given to someone, that means it wants to guide you somewhewe.»
«What I have to do then?»
«Nothing. Live youw life as always, fowget the stone and don't think too much befowe doing things. Follow youw instinct. It will talk to you when the time will come.»
A tremendous thunder echoes in the sky. The two women looks up at those huge black clouds.
«I better be going now, Amelie. I must get home to the cats and Verdâtre, I don't see them since yesterday!»
Amelie half-closes her eyes.
«Vewdâtwe?»
«Yes, it's a chrysalis. I look forward to see it turning into a beautiful butterfly.»
«It's a moth, deaw.»
They both get up.
«Oh? How can you be so sure?» asks Sibylle.
Amelie smiles, walking arm-in-arm with her and leading her out of the garden maze while the dark clouds amass in the sky.
«Because I've seen it in a dweam.»
«And why you think it's Verdâtre?»
«Because in the dweam it was in youw home. And fwom thewe it went to lay on a man's shouldew—»
«Was the man Claude?»
«Sowwy, deaw, I didn't see his face.»
«Don't you remember any other clue?»
Amelie stops and closes her eyes, recollecting the dream.
It is night and she is fluctuating in Sibylle's apartment like a spirit. She sees Sibylle sleeping alone on her bed with the cats sleeping next to her, and then she sees the moth coming out of a glass case. She follows it for all its flight above the city then she sees it heading to the Notre Dame cathedral, where a bare chested and barefoot man is perching among the gargoyles. The moth goes to lay on his left shoulder, and in that moment he turns his head to look at that delicate creature. He just looks at her without touching it.
«No, deaw, nothing. His face is wwapped by the dawkness, I'm sowwy.»
Just before it starts to rain, Sibylle arrives at her car, greets Amelie with a big hug and departs noisily. The old lady waves at her while she honks. Amelie sighs and heads inside where her friends are waiting for her in the ballroom for the— Oh! She stops and turns to Sibylle whom now is too far away.
«The scaw...», murmurs the woman remembering clearly a fresh scar on the left shoulder of the man in the dream, just when the moth rested on.
- Chapter XII
"Because one accepts oneself, the whole world accepts him."
— Lao Tzu
~
That night everything is ready for Sibylle e Nymphe's sapphic rendezvous. Saphir has organized an evening in a wonderful place: an luxurious historic villa. The two women are dressed in fine lingerie and high heels, trembling of emotion. They are in the hall of a large living room and Saphir is with them, dressed in an elegant pink sheath dress with black buttons and trims.
«So, mesdames, in the master dining room seven men chosen by the Club as onlookers are awaiting for you. In addition to Drakkar and Tarasque, there are five other men who are members of the levels Ruby and Diamond. They have been chosen for their particular good manners, sensitivity and for their self-control. They gonna need it.»
«This puts me in awe...», whispers Sibylle feeling uncomfortable.
Saphir smiles gently.
«It shouldn't, madame Améthyste. You have no idea of the precious gems that you are. As soon as the rumor of two women willing to share their first Sapphic experience in front of men spread in the Club, we received dozens of requests from member of any level. Believe me, you have no reason to worry, the lucky ones waiting for you will treat you with respect, as you deserve. Just show them your natural docility. True sensual femininity is a docile attitude, a sweet smile and a soft voice. Do that and all the men will fall in love with you. Go there and do what you would do if you were alone. You are two young women who are discovering the pleasures of Sapphic sex, I don't think there is something more exciting than that.»
Sibylle and N
ymphe exchange glances and smile, hugging each other. Saphir smiles sweetly: they are so naturally sweet that they don't actually need any advice.
«Now tell me your requests, so that I go there and inform the gentlemen before the rendezvous.»
«Requests?» asks Nymphe confused.
«Yes. You want them to be silent all the time, or can they talk? If so, can they talk to each other or just with you two?»
«I want them to be free to say whatever they want. In fact, I thought — if Nymphe agrees — to let them ‘guide’ us telling what they want us to do.»
Nymphe nods vigorously.
«Oh yes, I like that! In this way we'll avoid those embarrassing moments in which we wouldn't know what to do.»
Saphir tightens her lips.
«Oh dear, I can't believe girls, you are wonderful. These lucky men will remember this night for a long time. Please, wait here while I go to announce them your requests.»
She enters the room and after a few minutes she is back.
«The gentlemen are waiting for you, ladies. Please, enter and follow their directives.»
The two women smile and enter holding hands. They find themselves in a small antechamber with two black velvet curtains instead of a door to close the entrance to the dining room. They move the curtains a bit and peek in the room: it's large and illuminated by two huge crystal chandeliers and the atmosphere is delighted by a sensual music that fills the air. There are pictures of nude art, wrought iron candelabra, wooden tea tables and other elements of style. On the left there is a large table of at least twenty seats and to the right there is the living room. There is a wonderful blue rug in front of a fireplace which is strangely lit even though it is Spring, perhaps to give the atmosphere a touch of intimacy, or perhaps because the room is so big and old that can be pretty cold also in that season. In front of the fireplace there is a large red chaise longue, and in front that there are three black elegant couches.
The seven men are standing near the long table, chatting and sipping red wine. They are tall, imposing, dressed in a stylish dark suit, only one is wearing a red jacket. They are also wearing a soft black masks. Sibylle watches them trying to figure out which one is Drakkar, she understands it when she hears him laughing out loud. There he is, the one with his back to the door. He's whispering something to Tarasque.
The two girls look at each other, nod and take a deep breath before to move to the center of the room. All men fall silent instantly, turning to look at them.
“Bon sang!”, exclaims one of them, while another coughs because the wine has gone askew.
They look at them in silence for a long time, feeling like teenagers on their first time. Yet that is not the first time they participate to similar situations. But the beauty of these two young women is very touching: they exudates femininity. Their face is delicate, their gaze is sweet and their smile is deliciously shy. And their bodies are just magnificent. Nymphe's lingerie is all black; she wears a chiffon dressing gown, a pair of stockings, a thong and a lace bra.
Sibylle is wearing a purple and black laced guêpière with satin laces, a violet tulle thong, a pair of black stockings and high heeled red shoes. Drakkar approaches them with a big smile, shaking his head and then hand-kissing them both with extreme elegance.
«I don't think I've ever received a more splendid surprise than this one. Thank you, mesdames.»
The women smile flattered. Tarasque goes to them too.
«You are wonderful.» whispers the man hand-kissing them.
«Would you like some wine?» asks one of the other men.
Sibylle and Nymphe decline politely.
«Saphir told us that you want us to tell you what to do.» says another.
The girls nod.
«Please, forgive us», begins to say Sibylle nervously, «but we are a bit in awe.»
All men say kind reassuring phrases at once.
«You have no reason to feel uncomfortable.» tells them a handsome black man.
«We are here to admire you in your whole femininity, you should not feel embarrassment or fear. You are beautiful.» adds another.
The men are all so polite, so calm and relaxed that they also relax. Sibylle directs a glance to Drakkar, who smiles.
«My name is Améthyste.» says Sibylle.
«Mine is Nymphe.»
The men nod and then introduce themselves one by one, with a bow of the head. Apart Drakkar and Tarasque, there are: Taurus, a tall and impressive man, almost as massive as Drakkar; Tribal, the black man with amazing dark eyes; Richelieu, a man with a beautiful mouth; Lupin, the slim man wearing the red jacket. And finally there is Caligula, an imposing and apparently shy man, since he keeps aside. He finally gets closer to greet them with a proper hand-kiss, as the Club D etiquette request, but he doesn't introduce himself, is Lupin that speaks for him. Sibylle thinks he is mute, but actually he is not. She cracks a smile feeling a strange vibration running along her spine, when the man's eyes meet hers. Those eyes... Funny, that man looks familiar.
She cannot imagine how right she is since that man is Claude!
Drakkar frowns from under the mask, annoyed that Caligula-Claude is leering on Sibylle. Actually, Drakkar is annoyed that he is even there. He doesn't like him, but Saphir judged him suitable for the occasion.
«Ladies.» invites Tarasque indicating the red chaise longue on the blue rug.
The girls go over there but don't sit. The men, however, sit down on the three blacks couches gathered around the rug.
Claude and Tarasque sit on the couch on the left, and Drakkar sits on the one in front of the chaise longue.
Taurus sips his wine and smiles at them before to suggest:
«Why don't you embrace and dance slowly? It would help you to relax.»
There is not prurience in his voice, it's really a genuine advice.
Nymphe and Sibylle look at the men one at a time, fixing their eyes behind the masks, then they smile and move in to an embrace starting to dance slowly, swaying gently like two flowers touched by the breeze of the sea. The men look at them without saying a word, enjoying the sensuality of those bodies moving sinuously. Sibylle kisses softly Nymphe's neck, making her moan; then she strokes her back and shoulders and gently goes up to the hair. Nymphe lowers her eyelids to better enjoy that gentle touch, returning the attentions by caressing Sibylle's bottom. Sibylle's hands slide on Nymphe's waist, on her legs, her back and the neck again. Now they both have closed eyes and really feel like they are alone. The women open the eyes at the same time smiling at each other, prey of the excitement. They exchange soft caresses on the face for a long time, then they kiss on the lips; first they just suck each other's dry lips in a playful way, then they insinuate their tongue and suddenly the atmosphere become electric for all. They kiss deeper now. They moan, lick their lips, then kiss again, stick out the tongue and rub them together. All the men feel breathless, beginning to find hard to contain the pleasure which flows into their veins. The young women stop kissing and open their eyes as if waking from a dream, they smile shyly and hug again. They are adorable. They sit on the chaise longue maintaining eye contact. That sofa isn't only extremely elegant, but it's also velvety and has the fragrance of a cured garden in springtime.
«Touch your beautiful breasts.» murmurs Tribal hoarsely.
Their hands immediately begin to caress the breast of the other, as well as the shoulders and the neck.
«Améthyste, take off Nymphe's bra.»
For a second Sibylle thought it was Drakkar talking, but it has been Richelieu instead. She removes slowly Nymphe's bra making it slips down gently. Nymphe covers her abundant breast with her arms playing bashful. Their eyes are veiled by pleasure and complicity. Nymphe lays back sitting more comfortably so that all the men can see her. Sibylle caresses her arms, her face, her lips, her hair; then moves gently her arms and when her generous breast is exposed the men emit a sound of appreciation with their throats and some whisper polite comments. Sibylle care
sses her for a long time, biting her own lips seeing that soft and pale breast. She touch those puffy areolas and her sweet flat nipples, then grabs a boob in her hand and hold it tight, squeezing it, shaking it, feeling an unknown desire growing inside. Nymphe pants hard, enjoying that resolute touch.
«Kiss softly her breast, Améthyste.»
This time is really Drakkar. Only hearing his warm and masculine voice Sibylle shivers. She then bends over to lick Nymphe's lips before to slowly kiss her way down her breast, and when she reaches those inviting nipples she pulls one into her lips and begins to suck them gently making them erect instantly. The man groan cheerfully. Sibylle opens her mouth and takes the whole areola in it.
«Good girl.» praises Drakkar.
Nymphe moans loudly and throws her head back, begging Sibylle not to stop. But Sibylle has no intention of stopping. She suck greedily feeling an indescribable pleasure, a pleasure that she couldn't image she could experience with a woman. She moves to the other breast licking and sucking it passionately, making noisily swallow many of the men.
Drakkar and Tarasque exchange a complicit glance: “They are wonderful”, is the thought of both.
Sibylle is completely intent in adoring that breast.
«You're beautiful, Nymphe.» says to the girl.
Nymphe smiles, reaching out a hand to caress her face.
All men exchange glances to share their thinking: they are heartwarmingly sweet!
The Black Onyx Pact Page 25