by Paul Preston
“Yes. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could wave a magic wand and make everything right again, Mrs. Merriweather? Please shut my office door. I don’t wish to be disturbed,” Williamson said, quietly.
He walked in and sat down at his executive desk and Mrs. Merriweather closed his door without a sound. Williamson spent less than three minutes in the office. He typed out a short letter of resignation and indicated his recommendation for the management changes. He printed the letter out, signed and dated it and left his office, handing the letter to Mrs. Merriweather on his way out.
“Mrs. Merriweather, please see to it that the Board of Directors of both companies receives this resignation letter. Try to keep it out of the press, if possible. Please treat this news with the utmost confidentiality. Thank you for your discretion in this matter.”
“Resignation letter? Mr. Williamson, why are you…”
By the time Mrs. Merriweather looked up, Williamson had walked across the office in long strides and disappeared inside the elevator.
Inside the limo, Williamson instructed Cogworthy to drive him to the Adam and Eve Club.
It’s the one place, the last place I will fit in, amongst all the other degenerates, lurking in the shadows.
On the way to his club, Williamson downed his last shot of Remy and stared sullenly out of the window.
A freak. I am a freak…
Before the limo turned off the main road toward the Warehouse District where the A and E Club was hidden, Williamson spotted the woman again, standing in very plain clothing on the dingy street corner. He rapped his knuckles on the metal partition separating him from the front seat and pressed the button on the side door panel to roll it down.
“Pull over on the right side of the street on the next block and shut off the engine.”
“Yes, Sir,” his driver said.
The limo stopped and Williamson stared at the forlorn woman, selling the product that nobody seemed to want, herself. He had never seen her up picked once, even though she was a fixture on that corner. Cars rarely even stopped to roll down the window and look at her. She had a sad aura around her, like she was not of this world, completely cast off and alone. The cars kept driving by, ignoring her. Phillipe was about to tell his driver to continue on to the club when he saw a Hispanic man and a young black prostitute cross the street toward the woman. As soon as he saw the man aggressively poke the woman in the shoulder, Williamson bounded out of the limo.
“Boss!” Cogworthy said out of his window. “What are you doing?”
“Sit tight,” Williamson said over his shoulder.
He cut through the oncoming traffic and crossed the street in a few long-legged strides. The black woman had grabbed a handful of the woman’s pretty copper-colored hair and the Hispanic man continued to jab his finger at her aggressively. Williamson finally found the full throated volume and passion of the voice.
“LEAVE HER BE!”
The Hispanic man looked over his shoulder to see who had yelled.
“Who the fuck are you?” the Hispanic man yelled back.
“That skanky old bitch is scaring away all my customers!” the black woman shouted, pulling the woman’s hair.
Williamson immediately grabbed the black woman’s forearm in his fist. She immediately released the woman’s hair and sank to her knees.
“Ouch! That hurts, you mother-fucker!”
The Hispanic man pulled a knife out and threatened Williamson with it.
“Don’t touch the merchandise, hombre.”
Williamson released his grip on the woman, took off his hat and mask and angled the burned side of his face to them.
“Oh my God! Fuck,” the black woman said, holding her hand to her mouth.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck happened to your face?” the Hispanic man said, lowering the knife.
Williamson stared at the man with a crazy look in his eyes.
“This is nothing. You should see what I did to the other guy,” Williamson said.
The Hispanic man helped the black woman to her feet and they quickly backed away.
“Find yourself another street corner!” Williamson yelled after them.
After they left, Williamson felt the woman’s soft gaze upon him. Ashamed, he placed the mask back over his face and held the brim of the Fedora respectfully in his hands. He looked toward the ground.
“Thank you, sir… I’d like to show you how much I appreciate your help. Would you care to…?”
Williamson nodded his head no.
As Williamson turned to go back to his limo, the woman spoke in a quiet sad voice.
“Are you disappointed in me, sir?”
Hearing the horrible words again, Williamson stood frozen on the street, his heart thundering painfully in his chest. He pictured the dark cellar with the single light bulb hanging overhead, the wall of names, the displayed knives and especially the sadistic face of his foster father, Joseph Buquet.
Just one cut, just one little cut…
Williamson gritted his teeth, red rage burning through him. He breathed deeply once to compose himself, and slowly turned around to the woman.
“What did you say, miss?”
“I asked if you were disappointed in me. If you’re married, I won’t say a word… I won’t tell anyone, I promise…
I won’t tell anyone, I promise…
Williamson felt a shiver up his spine, even after all the years.
The little scared girl, with the lost expression in her eyes. Could it be her?
“No, not at all, miss. I’m not disappointed in you at all…”
As he looked up into her green eyes, she looked down at her feet.
“I know. I’m old and not that pretty anymore,” she said.
“That’s not true. I think you’re very… beautiful and charming. You have very pretty eyes…”
“Thank you…”
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Christine…”
Christine… It was her. It was Christine…
“Christine?”
“Yes.”
Williamson felt a chill in the air. The sky looked like it was about to rain. Christine had on a threadbare jacket two sizes too large and appeared to be shivering in it.
“Would you like to come into my limo for a moment to warm up, Christine? It’s parked right across the street. I assure you, you’ll be perfectly safe. Perhaps you’d like refreshment? I will pay you for your time…”
“OK,” Christine smiled.
They crossed the street and Luman opened the door for them as they got into the back seat.
“Wow, this is nice. I’ve never been in a limousine before.”
Like a curious child, Christine wanted to touch every compartment she saw in the limo, and see what was inside. Williamson saw Christine shiver and he told Cogworthy to start the car, leave it parked and turn up the heat. Then he rolled up the partition for privacy. He got out the money clip in his wallet and took out a one thousand dollar bill. Then he changed his mind and took out all of the largest bills and handed them over into her small palm. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she counted the money.
“This is close to ten thousand dollars. I’ve never made more than one hundred. What… do you want me to—”
“Nothing, Christine. Just sit here and keep me company. Would you like a sparkling water?”
“OK.”
Williamson poured her a glass of water and she took a large, long drink of it, as if she hadn’t had a drink all day.
“Thank you. It’s very…bubbly.
After they finished their drinks, Christine smiled at Williamson.
“I can’t possibly take all this money.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve done nothing to earn it.”
“You’re sitting in the back seat next to an exceedingly unattractive man. You should get paid for that.”
“I don’t think you’re unattractive at all. You look very nice to me. May I ask what
your name is?”
“Phillipe Williamson.”
“That’s a nice name… What happened to your…?”
“It’s very ugly, isn’t it?”
“No, that’s not what I... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t be so noisy.”
“No, it’s OK, Christine. There was an accident. A terrible accident. My face was burned. I’m still recovering, but I’m afraid it is permanently ruined. It’s ghastly to look at, I know. People used to tell me how attractive I was, but when they lay eyes on me now, it sickens them.”
“You know, Phillipe, women don’t care so much about those things, I think. A woman’s heart is kind. It is men who care so much about looks. Not you, but most men are…unkind. Some are cruel, even. Very cruel… But not you, Phillipe. I can tell you are different. You are… kind…”
“Are you feeling warmer now, Christine?”
“I feel much more comfortable now, thank you.”
They just sat silently for a long moment.
“You know, you paid me so much, and I’ve not done anything to earn the money. Phillipe… is there anything you would like me to do?”
“No, Christine. Just sitting here, getting to know you is good enough for me.”
“Still, I can’t take this money. It’s more than I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s too generous.”
“You are worth every penny of it and more. Go ahead. Take the money, Christine.”
“Thank you, Mr. Williamson.”
She smiled and folded the bills into her small purse.
“Are you hungry, Christine? Why don’t I take you out?”
“Hey, I’ve got a great idea. Let’s go get a milkshake! My treat!”
Christine said it with such unexpected girlish enthusiasm; it made Williamson laugh for the first time since Bella Lisa was alive.
“OK.”
“There’s a Carl’s Jr. nearby. I’ve been, like, living on those things. They make the best ones. Not McDonalds. Theirs taste like chemicals.”
“OK. I’ll tell the driver.”
The limo pulled up to the fast food place and parked. Christine couldn’t decide what to order. At first she wanted chocolate, and then strawberry, and finally quite definitely decided on vanilla with extra whipped cream on top. He rolled down the partition, conveyed to Luman their order and told them to buy two large milkshakes for themselves. When she reached into her purse and pulled out the money she was given, Williamson said they probably wouldn’t take such a large bill.
“But I told you I would pay for it!”
“You can pay next time.”
Christine smiled.
“OK.”
Luman went out into the drizzling rain to buy their milkshakes.
“I’m super excited about this! It’s about a gazillion calories, but I don’t care.”
Christine kept chatting away to Williamson as they waited for their milkshakes. She talked about an assortment of stray cats she knew from childhood and described each one, remembering each of their names and personalities. The milkshakes came and she attacked hers with pleasure, sucking hard on the straw and licking the whipped cream from the top.
“Can I have a taste of your milkshake?”
“Sure,” Williamson said, smiling.
As Christine took a sip, Williamson gently brushed a strand of hair away from her drink. Christine jerked her head back and flinched when she was touched.
“Please, don’t…”
Christine handed the milkshake back to Williamson.
“I’m sorry, Christine. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s not your fault. I just hate being touched. I’m sorry. I’m not a very good prostitute. That’s why no one ever stops for me. I’m sorry, Phillipe. Here, take your money back.”
“No, Christine, that money is yours. And I understand, perhaps more than you know. Don’t worry about it. Please…”
“You’re a very kind man. Thank you.”
Through the rain, they drove by her bank and Williamson helped her use the ATM to safely deposit the cash in her account, keeping some money out for her living expenses.
“Now the tellers will treat me a little better, I bet,” Christine said, raindrops dripping off her smiling face.
“I hope so,” Williamson said, taking her hand to lead her out of the rain and back inside the limo.
When Williamson felt Christine becoming more comfortable with him, he made a proposal to hire her at his club as a waitress.
“It’ll be safer for you, Christine, if you’re not on the street, and it’s getting cold out.”
She was nervous about the job, so Williamson drove her to the Club to show her where it was located and to introduce her to Andre Firmin, the security guards, and a few of the girls working the shift that night. Everyone greeted Williamson with warm kisses and embraces, and expressed sympathy for his recent loss. He asked Cindy to take Christine under her wing and show her the ropes, starting tomorrow. Though Williamson looked strange in his mask, none of the people at the club even mentioned it. The employees of the Adam and Eve Club were just glad to see him again.
Phillipe drove Christine to her home. He told her to take a cab to the club tomorrow, as it was located in a dangerous neighborhood. He escorted her right to her door, disapproving of the dimly lit stairways and shady characters hanging around her apartment complex.
Perhaps there’s a condo unit I could move her into in my building? It’s much safer for her there.
They went inside and Christine turned the lights on. Williamson glanced around to see the few sticks of furniture she owned. They sat down on an old musty couch.
“I’m sorry about…before.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling your luck is about to change.”
“I hope so.”
“Are you still nervous about working as a waitress?”
“A little,” Christine confessed.
“It’s easy. You’ll do fine. I think you’ll fit in really well there. All the girls seem to really like you. Just shadow Cindy tomorrow; you’ll pick up on it quickly. I’m sure you’ll make great money, with the tips you’ll get. Be at the club by 6:00 tomorrow to help Cindy set up. You’re really smart, I’m positive you’ll do fine.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, Phillipe.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m afraid I have to be going now, Christine. Good luck tomorrow, OK?”
“OK.”
As Phillipe turned to leave, Christine took her face in her hands and wept.
“I’m really sorry about before… in the limo. I’m…sorry, I…”
Williamson put his arms around her to comfort her.
“Now, now. Please don’t cry, Christine. I told you, I understand completely.”
“You do?”
Williamson used his handkerchief to dry her tears.
“I do. And I promise to explain why when I see you tomorrow night. OK?
“OK.”
Christine breathed deeply in and out once and stopped crying.
“Also, when I see you tomorrow, I have a very big surprise for you.”
She perked up and smiled.
“Another milkshake?”
“Oh, much bigger than that.”
“I can’t wait. Tell me now!”
“I can’t. If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise. Remember to lock your door when I leave. Also Christine, please be sure to take a cab to the club tomorrow night. And when you get in the cab, hand the driver this.”
Williamson gave her his Adam and Eve Club business card with the address on it.
“I will. I promise.”
Christine stepped forward, removed his mask, got up on her tiptoes and kissed his burned raw cheek, and then put his mask back on. As Williamson turned to leave, Christine spoke very quietly to his back.
“You’re a very nice person, Phillipe…”
Williamson turned to her, nodded, and left. On the way back to his condo, Williamson texted Firmi
n on his cell, instructing him to pick a contemporary upscale furniture store that could deliver and completely furnish a 2 bedroom condo within 24 hours and that he would text him the unit number within an hour where he wanted the furniture delivered. Williamson received an immediate response from Firmin.
“Will do.”
Chapter Seven
The Perfect Dom
When Williamson returned to the condo, he found Carlotta asleep, her wrist still tied to the bed post. He took a shower and shaved. Changing into his black silk robe, he looked at himself in the mirror and scowled.
My face looks like road kill.
Williamson put his black mask back on and sat down in a chair to relax and watch Carlotta sleep.
At that moment, the Voice came to him, quite unexpectedly. At first it sounded soft, as if calling to him from the distant end of a long dark tunnel, but grew in volume the more it pervaded his consciousness.
“Phillipe…Phillipe, my old friend. How good it is to speak with you again. I can’t express to you how relieved I was you survived, that is, we survived the accident. Not a smart move, jumping on top of the hood of a burning engine. But it is well known how inclined you are toward grand romantic gestures. Well, at least you and I have a little more in common, now that you too suffer from a… deformity. By the way, love the mask, hate the Fedora.”
Williamson heard his own voice speaking to himself in the dark room.
“What do you want? Say what it is you want and leave me in peace.”
“I want nothing of you. I’m just happy to be with you again, my old friend, my dearest friend, and share in your first day of retirement. I suppose congratulations are in order. Now I suppose you have time for more… pleasurable pursuits. I must say how impressed I am by you, Phillipe. Not one day out of the burn center and you have already seduced two new subs, despite your newly ravaged appearance. If you can just find twenty three more, you can have a sub living on each floor of your building, yes?”
“Say what you want and get out of my head, Beast.”
“I’ll get right to the point… It’s the new submissive, Carlotta. Look at her sleeping there. Look at her beautiful full breasts, so cozy. Nice touch, leaving her tied up. May I say, your Bella Lisa was enchanting, but she was not really a part of our world, was she? It remains to be seen how little Christine will behave, but Carlotta… She is… perfect for you, Phillipe. Need I remind you of what she said before you left? I believe this is her exact quote. ’Phillipe… I’ve decided. I want you to mark me. I want you to do it to me, when you get back, later tonight. I have never been marked. I am a virgin submissive and I am yours to mark.’ What do you think, Phillipe?”