by Sofia Paz
'Tell me, why am I here?'
'To learn to serve.' Madame Sworde said simply, as if it was such a matter-of-fact thing to say.
Taking the bottle from the ice bucket, she refilled her glass, and topped up Katharine’s. She was looking intently at Katherine now, openly, in a manner that was totally unashamed, her grey-green discerning eyes searching Katharine’s face.
'What?' Katherine asked, squirming slightly under the close scrutiny.
'His exquisite taste in women still holds true,' Madame Sworde said, 'you, my dear, are a fine specimen indeed.' Katherine blushed and gulped at the champagne, then in a whisper she asked;
'So you know him? You know Sir ummm...Dominic?'
'Oh yes!' Madame Sworde said with a soft laugh, 'he and I go back a long, long way.'
And Katherine saw a wistful look of remembering in the woman's eyes, a flash of hidden, happy memories but also a fleeting shadow of regret. Katherine felt at once that somewhere, sometime in the past, Madame Sworde had also served a man, and her intuition told her it was the same man she was trying to serve now. Her man. Her Dominic. Katherine felt a mixture of jealousy, excitement and almost overwhelming curiosity welling up inside her.
'Tell me about him. Please.' Katherine pleaded, eager to learn something, anything about the man she felt she had known for so long now, yet in truth she knew absolutely nothing about at all. Madame Sworde smiled and shook her head slowly from side to side.
'I am not allowed to tell you much,' she said softly, 'there are certain things about him he insists you learn personally from him. He chooses which knowledge you shall have at your disposal and which you shall have not. I...,' Madame Sworde sipped her champagne and then continued in a hushed, almost reverent tone, 'I serve him too. And I have my instructions.'
Katherine felt a rush of disappointment. Here she had hoped to finally discover something substantial about her Master. She pressed on.
'He said we would meet soon,' she told Madame Sworde, 'but he didn't say when. Do you know when I will finally stand face to face with my Sir?'
Madame Sworde shook her head again.
'I am sorry, my dear, I know nothing of any meeting between the two of you. But I can reassure you, if that is what he said, then that is what will come to be. He is a man of his word. Now, olives, and more champagne. Then let us attend to this night's particular business.'
A wave of her hand brought the waiter back to their table. Madame Sworde ordered another bottle of champagne and a huge tray of thick, ripe, black olives. Over the next few hours, Katherine would learn just how much Madame loved champagne, how much she adored olives, and exactly how she had become the Dominant Mother responsible for the training and cultivation of all of her Sir's submissives...
Born the only child of Christian Arab parents, Madame Sworde grew up on a thriving olive plantation on the outskirts of Jerusalem. She'd had a different name then, and a different life. Her father had been a man with acute business skills and over the years the family became what Madame Sworde described as 'obscenely wealthy'. Nannys, au-pairs, private tutors, servants and chauffeurs, this was the childhood Madame Sworde had enjoyed.
Then as a young teenage girl she had been sent away to the most exclusive and expensive boarding schools, where she was taught how to behave within the circles of the fabulously rich, taught the etiquette of the movers and shakers of the financial planet. Taught to be a Lady. Aged 21, she had returned home with majors in Art, History and Philosophy from Cambridge University. By then she was fluent in six languages and was quite simply, beautiful. She settled back into her happy, carefree life of luxury, and waited for a potential husband to call...
The mortar bombs came without warning. Ripping huge craters into the olive groves, blinding and maiming a dozen of the migrant workers. In the confusion that followed, a small band of Arab terrorists overran the main house, shooting dead anyone that got in their way. Madame could vividly remember the shouting and the clatter of machine guns as she cowered with her mother on the library floor. Her father, pale and shaking, stood behind the door, a scimitar held high over his left shoulder.
When the first terrorist burst into the library, her father swung the sword in a high, sweeping arc, which cut off the intruder's head with one clean swipe. He had just enough time to plunge the weapon into the heart of a second attacker when he was caught in a hail of automatic gunfire, his body twisting and turning and bleeding. He was dead before he hit the floor. Dragging the kicking, scratching, screaming women up to the master bedroom, Madame and her mother were blindfolded and manhandled onto the bed. What happened next would leave her mother dead, and change Madame forever.
Madame Sworde told the rest of her story in a blur. Penniless and alone she had drifted into Egypt and taken up the world's oldest profession simply to survive. Her ordeal back at the plantation had robbed her of any kind of self-esteem. As a woman, she thought, she had lost all virtue and value, had become totally worthless. It was there she had met Dominic for the first time. And it was he who had rescued her, saved her, gave her life a new direction and new meaning. It was he who had made her feel like a real woman again. And for that, she would always love him..
'Stockings and high heels, my dear, nothing makes a man's heart beat faster.' Madame Sworde was suddenly firmly back in the here and now and Katherine, completely absorbed in the tale was jolted out of her reverie.
'Huh?' she said, smiling apologetically.
'Presentation,' repeated Madame Sworde, 'a woman's first chance of pleasing a man is by how she looks. Therefore our clothes must be chosen with utmost care. Ditto hair and make-up must be perfect at all times. But not to any kind of standard or penchant of our own. No, we tailor our looks, our bodies, even our conversation, the way we even think, to his needs and desires.'
'But how do I do that?' asked Katherine wide eyed.
'It's simple, my dear,' answered Madame Sworde, a wry, knowing smile spreading across her champagne-wet lips, 'you just follow his instructions to the letter, and if you are good, very, very good, then you will learn how to read his mind.'
'Absolute obedience, complete sexual submission,' Madame continued without pausing, ' of course these are the things a man like your Sir will expect from you, and if you so choose, you will give them to him. However...'
Madam Sworde talked for hours. The restaurant filled and emptied again. Katherine hung on every word that passed her new companions lips. Tips, tricks, and secrets. An entirely new way of life. By the time the waiter respectfully asked the pair to leave, Katherine felt she had gained a whole wealth of valuable information about a world she had previously never known existed. Madame Sworde agreed to meet Katherine same time, same place, next week.
'You simply must try the oysters.' She chuckled as she and Katherine said their goodnights outside the entrance of the restaurant. It had begun to rain. The two had ordered separate cabs; the champagne really had been good and neither was fit to drive. Madame's cab arrived first and she kissed Katherine on both cheeks before getting into the back. She turned to wave through the rear window as the yellow Dodge pulled away from the restaurant and sped off down the deserted street.
Katherine stood alone on the sidewalk. It was late on a weeknight for a small town and the streets were deathly quiet. She suddenly remembered she had left her cigarettes in the Volvo. Cursing the rain, she began to make her way along the narrow alleyway beside the restaurant that led to the parking lot at the back. The alley was dark and silent with large puddles already forming on its shiny, concrete surface.
*****
Then, chaos struck. Two men, coming at her in the rain, coming at her out of the dark, hands reaching out towards her. Panic and fear seized her. Unable to run, Katherine opened her mouth to scream but then the blade of a knife was pressed cold against her neck. She could feel and smell a man's whiskey-breath on her cheek. From behind her there is a low, growling laughter as the other man pinned her wrists to the small of her back and called h
er a dirty cunt. She could feel mauling hands inside her clothes but she did not struggle or make a sound because she did not want to die. Not tonight, not in the rain amongst oversized garbage cans filled with throwaway cardboard cartons and restaurant slops.
There was a sudden movement beside her and the shape of a shadow in the corner of her eye. Then, whiskey-breath was gone from her sight and the laughter behind her stopped abruptly, cut-off as if someone has pulled the power plug from a mechanical clown. The sound of bones breaking, followed by the pathetic screams of bad men hurt, filled the alley. Katherine fell and was caught, strong arms cradling her gently to the ground where she lay for a while, vaguely aware of the musky leather jacket that has been placed beneath her head as a pillow.
In the distance, Katherine could hear sirens. Then, in a flash of white and blue halogen light, a chorus of car doors opening and slamming shut, a bland staccato of emotionless emergency radio transmissions, she could hear the heavy, flat-booted splish splash of policemen running on wet concrete. Her eyes focused to find Officer Hanlan crouched over her, his forehead creased and his eyes full of concern. He was talking to her and Katherine strained to understand what he was saying.
'OK Kitten, you're hurt but you'll be fine. Just lie still. Don't try to move, you'll be in the hospital in minutes.'
His words confused her. She was shook up, frightened and confused, but apart from that, she was physically fine, she thought. But Hanlan was holding his hand to her neck, his grip uncomfortably strong. It was then Katherine first noticed the thin swirling blood mixing in with the puddles and the rain. The front of her dress felt sticky. She realized she was bleeding from the throat. Dizziness returned to fog her mind, and she knew she was about to lose consciousness.
'Dominic...?' she said in a faint, croaking whisper, her eyes fixed on Hanlan's worried face.
'He knows,' Hanlan said, 'he's on his way.'
Two green-suited medics pushed Hanlan aside and began barking questions at Katherine, all the time busy with bandages and pressure pads, one of them held a syringe up in the rain and flicked the tip with his forefinger, then plunged it into a vein in her arm. Katherine did not feel anything.
'What's your name honey? Do you know where you are? What happened?'
And then,
'You'll be OK, just relax, we're taking you in honey, you'll be fine...'
Katherine was hoisted onto a gurney and wheeled to the open doors of the waiting ambulance. She turned her head and was just able to see a group of policemen huddled around Hanlan, and the shapes of two bodies lying motionless on the wet concrete. Then her mind gave up. Katherine fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. She slept for almost 24 hours.
She woke to find Hanlan slumped asleep in a chair at the foot of her bed. Katherine blinked rapidly to focus her vision and sat up. Pain shot through her heavily bandaged neck and her head spun. She waited for the dizzy spell to pass then reached for the pitcher of water and a glass on the table beside her. She thought she had never been this thirsty in all her life. She poured herself one, then another glass of water. Her throat hurt when she swallowed. Katherine looked around the room. It was obviously a private medical suite, certainly not the sort of thing her own medical insurance would provide. Dominic again, she thought. Was there no end to his influence? Hanlan stirred in his chair, snorted and woke up. He jumped when he saw Katherine awake and looking at him.
'Kitten!' he said and rushed towards her. 'How are you feeling?'
'Groggy but OK. My throat is sore. What happened? Am I badly hurt?'
Katherine had a vague recollection of the incident in the alley, but the details were blurred and the order of events was all jumbled up in her head. Hanlan sat beside her on the bed.
'You were attacked,' he said, 'two hobos, drifters just passing through. We have both of them locked up. They won't be going anywhere for a while.'
Katherine touched the bandage around her neck. 'And this?' she asked.
'One of them had a knife. When I jumped him, the blade nicked your jugular. But the doctors say you'll be fine. There'll just be a small scar. I'm sorry Kitten. I should have got there sooner.'
Katherine saw the cop was genuinely sorry. There was something akin to guilt in his eyes. She put her hand on his arm and squeezed.
'Don't.' She said. 'If it hadn't been for you, I might have died.'
She smiled at Hanlan and he seemed to relax. Then he smiled back down at her.
'There's someone here to see you.'
Katharine’s heart skipped a beat.
'Dominic? He's here? she asked, anticipation soaring through her tired, aching body.
'He's talking to the doctors. I'll go get him.'
He got up from the bed and left the room in a hurry. Katherine could hardly contain her excitement. At last she was to meet the man who in such a short space of time had changed her life completely. She instinctively fussed with her hair.
'Damn. I must look a mess.'
The door opened, Hanlan came in with a huge wolfish grin on his face. With a bow and a theatrical twist and turn that surprised Katherine and made her laugh, he gestured with both hands towards the figure standing in the doorway behind him.
'Kitten,' he said, 'meet Dominic.'
And there he was. Her Sir, her Dominic. Katharine’s breath caught in her throat. It was the man from the mall, the man with the onion soup...
Dominic approached the bed and smiled down at Katherine. She still couldn't quite believe what was happening. How could it be him? She had chosen the man at the mall completely at random. Or so she had thought.
'Hello, Kitten.' Dominic said and his voice, that clipped, precise accent sent shivers down her spine.
He cupped her chin gently in his hand and bent down to kiss her on the lips. Katherine, still too stunned to react, just let it happen. But Dominic's kiss lingered, became passionate and Katherine found her mouth, her entire body responding to his touch and the taste of his mouth on hers.
Dominic pulled back and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a warm, seductive smile.
'At last,' he said, 'at last I have my Kitten...'
He sat down on the bed and held her hand in both of his. He glanced once over his shoulder and gave Hanlan a brief look. The cop understood immediately and quietly left the room. Dominic spoke and Katherine listened. He had a lot to say. She struggled to take it all in…
The next few days flashed by in a haze of medical check-ups and police interviews. When at last she was released from the hospital, Dominic was outside waiting for her. Katherine stared in disbelief at the black metallic stretch limousine. Dominic held the door open and gestured for her to get in.
'Wow,' she thought, 'ostentatious he is not...' Katherine giggled.
Dominic greeted her with a gentle hug and a kiss on the lips and helped her into the back of the car, then got in beside her.
'Oh, a chauffeur?' By now, Katherine wasn't at all surprised. The uniformed man behind the wheel turned and tipped his hat towards her.
'Miss Kitten.' He said, his face absolutely motionless.
Dominic completed the introductions. 'Kitten, this is Charles. He is a rather grumpy bastard. But you'll get used to him. We all did.'
Katherine couldn't help but laugh and even Charles had to smile.
'The hotel, please Charles.' Dominic said.
'Yes, Sir.'
Charles put the limo into drive and pulled away from the hospital.
Katharine’s heart was pounding, her mind racing. What happens now? she thought. A new life. She realised that this was what she had secretly yearned for ever since that first cold call from Dominic. He had awakened emotions within her she never knew she had. She felt thrilled, but also a little afraid. She knew the time had come for her to make some big decisions. And there was still Sam to consider. She would have to do the right thing by him. It was over between them, but she did not want to hurt him more than was absolutely necessary. She owed him that much, at least.
; Dominic squeezed her hand tightly. Katherine looked deep into his eyes. Was she in love with this man? She wasn't sure, but she did know that he did something to her, something that deeply excited her. Katherine leant towards Dominic and pushed her open mouth onto his. She slid her hand over his thigh to his crotch. His cock became instantly hard. Katherine unzipped his trousers and with a finger and her thumb she pulled his erect penis out into the open. She pulled her mouth away from his and smiled a wicked smile. Dominic grinned back at her and his eyes were full of expectation. Katharine’s head sank down towards his crotch, her lips closed around the tip of his hard cock. Dominic closed his eyes and lay his head back onto the plush leather seat.
'Charles,' he said, a slight quiver in his otherwise so certain and commanding voice.
'Yes, Sir?' Charles did not take his eyes off the road.
'Take us the long way home.'
'Yes, Sir!' The driver indicated and changed lanes to head for the freeway. In the back of the limo, Kitten worked hard with her mouth and tongue, enjoying the delicious taste of her Master. Her new life had now truly begun.