by Darkscribe
So we do not change. And yet we still lose. So maybe changing does not necessarily have to mean loss, but rather an altering of its value in relation to the changes in one's being; therefore we do not lose, we simply re-evaluate what is important and ascribe it a value.
This brings me to the moral of this diatribe. Change means loss, loss will bring about change. To become something else is it better to lose the important things and keep the minutiae of life yet become better than before if that is what the change allows, or is it simply preferable to keep what is important and change the minutiae REGARDLESS of becoming better?
I need your guidance in this My lady.
DL x
Nicole read the letter three times, each time she was on the point of understanding until the meaning slipped away with the end of the statement.
“That’s all I need, a fucking riddle!”
She tossed the letter down onto the floor and stomped upstairs to bed.
“A fucking apology would have been nicer…”
DL was awake when he heard the car pull back into the garage. He quickly threw on a robe and headed down stairs, intercepting Christopher as he crossed the hall.
“Did you give it to her? How is she? Did she have anything to say?”
Christopher was startled by the barrage of questions.
“Err… yes… and she seems fine my Lord… and no… she didn’t have a message back for you!”
DL’s shoulders slumped slightly at the news, or rather the lack of it. After some more questioning about what had happened, how she seemed, what they talked about, DL instructed Christopher to get to bed as he must be tired after the drive. The boy mumbled an affirmative and made for his room.
“One more thing,” said DL quietly.
“Yes my Lord?”
“If you touch my Ferrari again without permission, I’ll rip your arm off and beat you to death with the soggy end. Understood?”
Christopher looked fearfully at the man in the shadows until he saw the glint of teeth. He was smiling.
“Yes my Lord, of course my Lord… the soggy end…” and the boy ran laughing up the stairs.
*
Douglas Vaughan sat on the end of his bed. He had taken the first steps in repairing the bridge between him and his chosen one, now it was up to her to respond. Repentance did not come easily to a man like him, so it had taken him a while to find the words without it making him seem weak. He hoped she had the intelligence to understand what he was trying to tell her, and that she would come to realise that his actions had been for the best, and that she must forgive him. Once they were talking again he was sure he would be able to sweet-talk her into continuing the relationship, his confidence in his own abilities to persuade her was unshakeable.
“I’ll make all the right noises, say the things that she wants to hear, but in the end it will be ME that gets the ultimate reward!”
He chuckled to himself as he slid under the cool sheets. There would be no problem now.
*
The following morning Christopher walked into the kitchen to find DL already seated at the table with a plate of eggs. This had been Rachel’s job, preparation of breakfast, so Christopher was mildly surprised to find that DL had adjusted so quickly and helped himself.
“Morning laddie!” boomed DL, “how you feeling this morning?”
Christopher looked at him warily, DL’s morning moods were legendary in their house, and you usually tip-toed around him.
“I am fine thank you my Lord; however my shoulder is a bit sore…”
DL looked up at him.
“I see… I’m sorry I hit you the other day, but you were in the way and…”
“I understand that,” said Christopher, “I think things were just a little bit fucked-up there for a minute?”
He had never spoken so candidly before, and DL straightened and appraised him with a quizzical look.
“I do believe you are right there Christopher!” he smiled, “fucked-up describes it perfectly!”
“I have been thinking,” he continued, “it is about time I involved you in things more, taught you some of the ropes. I take it you are still interested?”
“In the LifeStyle my Lord?”
“Yes sonny, the LifeStyle. We need to decide the role you will take.”
Christopher sat at the table having poured himself and DL a glass of juice. It had been nearly a year since DL had raised the issue of him becoming more involved in the Life; in truth he had forgotten all about it, and the things he had witnessed recently had raised doubts.
“I am not so sure my Lord,” he ventured, “I am not that confident in what I should do.”
DL granted him a rare large smile.
“Then we must find out your strengths and weaknesses my boy. I will arrange something for you to get a taste, and then we will go from there, ok?”
Christopher tried to look enthusiastic.
“As you wish my Lord.”
“Good, that’s settled then!” DL rose from the table. “When you are finished I’ll need the Jag ready as I have some business to attend to, so smart clothes please, I need a driver!”
He whisked out the kitchen and disappeared up the stairs. Christopher sat and stared at his glass for a minute, drained what was left in a gulp and followed his Master and Tutor upstairs.
*
Nicole had woken with a blazing headache. Three Aspirin later, she sat slumped behind the wheel of her car on the drive. She had no enthusiasm for shopping on a GOOD day, so today she had to force herself to start the car and head out to the shops. As she left her small road, the Postman stepped off the pavement in front of her waving his hands for her to stop. She wound down her window.
“What is it Brian?”
“I’m glad I saw you Nicole, I’ve a registered letter here that needs signing for, and if I’d missed you it would have gone back to the sorting office!”
He rummaged through his bag and produced a small square parcel, not much bigger that a cigarette packet.
“Here you go, and just put your usual scribble on that line there,” he smiled, offering his clipboard.
“Cheeky!” Nicole laughed, and signed for the package.
She tossed it onto the passenger seat, waved goodbye to Brian, and resumed her trip to the shops.
During the trip she glanced at the brown paper box a couple of times (not knowing what it was or who from), but decided it would wait until she got home. She was forced to break as someone pulled out in front of her, and the parcel slid from the seat into the gap by the passenger door. As it could not be seen on her return journey, she quite forgot it was there, so busied herself unpacking the shopping and planning the rest of her day.
At 03:00 pm she went to collect her son from school, and it was only when he climbed into the car that the package fell out into the road.
“What’s this mum… for me?”
“I have no idea!” she smiled, “why don’t you open it?”
The boy tore at the paper, obviously hoping it was something fabulous for him. Nicole turned from concentrating on the road when she heard him sigh.
“What is THIS for?” the boy moaned, holding a small object up.
“Let me see!” she extended her hand, and when the object landed in her palm, and she had glanced at it, she swerved and nearly hit a parked car.
Her hand instinctively went to her throat and touched the collar that was always there.
It was a small key.
THE key.
~~*~~
CHAPTER 11
***
Choices
Nicole placed the key in the top drawer of her trinket box. Three times during the following day she had taken it out and looked at it, once even going so far as to slip it into the lock but she couldn’t turn it. She went online, but instead of going into a chat room, she opened her private page. This had details about herself, her likes and dislikes within the LifeStyle, lists of friends, a message board and (for
a chosen few) pictures of herself that could be seen by others on request.
She clicked on the “friends” list and highlighted DL. She looked again at his picture, and noticed that the site recorded that he had not visited Der Unterworld for over a month.
“What are you doing DL?” she asked his picture, “where are you, and why haven’t you been in touch?”
She logged off, and reached for the key again.
“I miss you” she said quietly.
*
“Come into my study Christopher, I have something to show you!”
Christopher jogged across the hall and walked into DL’s room at the order.
DL had just turned his computer on, and was going through the process of entering his passwords.
“It is time to start your education, so I want you to see this as I am going to arrange for you to meet someone.”
Christopher looked at DL, then at the screen, as DL brought up his instant messenger service. Scrolling down a list of names he double-clicked on one near the end. Jacqueline.
A little box appeared with the words “Calling” fading in and out across the center.
Suddenly a smaller box appeared at the bottom of the screen with words in it.
“It has been a while since You called me, Dark One.”
DL Typed.
“I know that J, My sincere apologies lady. I need your help.”
“I will help You if I can My Lord, pray tell what You desire.”
“I have someone I want you to meet and educate for Me J, someone who needs O/our guidance in the LifeStyle.”
Christopher swallowed heavily.
“Who is it that needs my help Dark One, someone I know?”
“No lady J, but someone very important to Me, one who may well become My heir…”
Christopher looked with shocked eyes at DL.
“Your heir?” he stammered.
DL didn’t respond.
“Ahhh, the young boy I have heard so much about! If he is to become as You say then I will be pleased to give any help You need or command My Lord.”
DL smiled at the response he had received.
“Thank you lady. I will bring him to you tonight so prepare well for Me.”
“So soon? As You wish My Lord, tonight it is.”
DL signed off, and closed the message service down. He turned to face Christopher who stood with his mouth open still looking at the screen. Reaching up, he held Christopher’s chin and closed his mouth. The boy looked at him.
“My Lord?”
DL chuckled and stood, turning his back to the boy as he walked across to the window.
“Fear not, young Christopher, lady J is a very dear friend of mine and is the best at what she does, she will teach you the basics so that you will not appear uneducated, and then take you on a journey very few have the pleasure of making.”
He turned back to face the boy.
“Tonight I will drive, you will be too nervous. I want you to prepare carefully for this, make sure you shave well, and wear that dark suit you have, as it looks good on you. It will take us an hour to get there, so I will explain more in the car on the way. Now go and relax my boy, it will be an exciting night!”
He waved his fingers at Christopher in a “shoo-ing” manner, so the boy quietly left the study.
Returning to his desk, he used his computer mouse to highlight a folder. A double click brought up a selection of small pictures; he peered at them closely then selected one for enlargement.
The face of Nicole looked back at him, his favourite, the one with her hair all wild, colour in her cheeks, and a large innocent smile. His hand moved across the screen, stroking the glass face.
“It has been too long my love. Once I have set in motion what must be done, then I will come for you.”
He turned off the computer.
“I just hope you are still there…” he said as he left the room.
DL had chosen the Aston Martin for their journey (another first for Christopher) and he was slicing through the traffic at not quite legal speeds.
“Do you know why I indulge myself with my cars?” he asked suddenly.
“Because you can?” Christopher replied.
DL laughed at the candour of the boy.
“No laddie, it is because of the engineering, the style that has gone into these beautiful machines that makes them head and shoulders over everything else. Listen to this…”
He dropped a gear and accelerated past a row of cars in the middle lane.
“Do you hear that note? The sound the engine makes when you let it loose and give it what it craves… the chance to show what it can do! It roars approval back at you, almost shouting at the world “Listen to ME!! I am powerful and sophisticated, and I can do ludicrously high speeds!!!”
DL slowly eased the car down to his “cruising” speed of 80 miles per hour. He was laughing.
Christopher watched him closely. He had never seen this side of him before, an almost child-like enjoyment of something.
DL broke the mood by glancing at Christopher.
“Lady J is what we, in the Life, call a “switch”. She can be Dominant when the mood and the subject requires it, or can be submissive and compliant to those she feels deserve her subservience. Note I said “deserve”. She does not give herself lightly to someone, unlike others within the Life who give themselves to EVERYONE, so her respect must be earned. Tonight we will find out a bit more about the route through the LifeStyle that suits you best.”
“But what do I have to do?” asked Christopher, more worried than before!
“You must be yourself, use your instincts, and do what comes naturally to you. If it feels wrong stop, if it feels right exploit it some more. There is no judgment involved, your route may be different from others, but above all, try to be true to yourself. I have an idea of where your journey will take you, now we must see if I am right!”
He turned to smile at the boy.
“Don’t look so worried, she won’t bite! Well… actually… she might do if you deserve it!”
He threw back his head and laughed at the fear in Christopher’s eyes.
The boy sat in the car looking down at his hands. His mind was in complete turmoil.
“What the fuck have I got myself into NOW,” he thought, “it’s as bad as the first time I met HIM…”
Christopher
As an orphan, life had not been kind to Christopher. Beaten by several foster fathers, he had eventually run away from the last one, and found himself in London. Without money and a job, and only 16, he found himself living in a cardboard box community under the arches of a stretch of disused railway. Though not a city boy, his upbringing had given him the necessary edge to fend off unwanted advances from those who preyed on the helpless, but it didn’t solve his money problems. So he came up with a scheme. He noticed how people shied away from the homeless and street people, mainly due to the way they looked (and in some cases smelled) so each morning he went to what was laughingly called the “public convenience” and made sure that he was at least clean. He also stole. He became very good at it, so much so that soon he was taking orders from people for goods from some of the better department stores. This meant he could buy better clothes; move out of his damp box and into one of the cheaper hotels down by Kings Cross station. He managed to avoid the law by simply not LOOKING like he was stealing anything. He became adept at befriending staff at shops he had orders for goods from, visiting them several times and actually buying stuff prior to taking what he wanted. His looks always turned the female shop assistants heads (which was useful) and his politeness meant that soon he became above suspicion. Then he would steal what he needed. Next time he visited the store, if it was mentioned that something had gone missing in their department, he would stand and commiserate with them, tut-tutting at the things these criminals do! It was a perfect system, or so he thought.
*
He was in a high-class store when he saw a man
standing at a perfume counter. He was obviously buying for a wife or mistress or something, and was being offered different scents by the girls behind the counter. He had placed his briefcase on the floor at one side, and during the course of his testing fragrances, had moved a little way from it. Now Christopher knew about this type of briefcase, he had whistled at the price of one exactly the same, so he figured that the guy had money, and whatever was in that ridiculously expensive case must be worth something. It wasn’t what he normally did, but the urge became too strong. He casually walked over to the counter, winked at one of the girls, and made his way to the door with one briefcase gently swinging in his hand. He turned left out of the main entrance, heading for a narrow alley, about a hundred yards away, that ran through between two stores. He was just turning into the alley when the excruciating pain started in his right arm, and he was lifted from his feet and carried down the narrow passage.
Christopher bounced off one of the walls and hit the floor hard. He tried to scramble to his feet to fight back, but something hit him in the throat, he couldn’t breathe and fell back to his knees.
Through tear-filled eyes, he looked up at the outline of the person who had attacked him, silhouetted against the light from the street 20 yards away.
DL stood looking down at the boy gasping for breath. He had seen him approach, saw the lightning-quick snatch of his case, then carefully followed him out of the store. He couldn’t believe his luck when the boy had turned towards the alley, so struck immediately. He retrieved his case, and was about to leave when the boy called out in a rasping voice.
“Hey mister, that’s my case!”
DL stopped and turned to face him.
“If this is yours little boy, then why don’t you come and get it?” he said this very quietly whilst extending the case to the boy.