This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Ending
An Encounter at Rick's
By
Starship <starship_64@yahoo.com>
I turned to see a slender girl with short black hair, wearing a dark green gown that looked a bit threadbare. Her face had the hollow look of a refugee, one of the thousands thronging to Morocco from all over Europe, fleeing the Nazis and hoping somehow to make it to America. I nodded. "Yes."
"You own this club?"
Again I nodded. "Such as it is. And you don't look old enough to be in here, Miss...?"
"Suzanne Delecorte. I'm here with the police chief, Captain Renault, and I... well I wanted to ask you if he can be trusted."
I glanced across the room. Renault was at his usual place, in front of the roulette table. "I suppose I'd trust him as much, or as little, as anybody else," I said. "Did he send you over here?"
She nodded, quickly glanced both ways, then leaned closer. "What I mean is, suppose he promised to provide papers so my husband and I could get to America in return for certain, um, considerations. Would he keep his word?"
I took a sip of my martini. "As far as I know, he always has."
"Oh." She looked down at the floor for a moment, then sat down on the stool beside mine. "Tell me," she asked quietly, staring down at her hands, "if a person truly loved another person and she did something bad so that the person she loved could be safe, that would be forgivable, wouldn't it?"
I set down my drink, knowing only too well where she was going. "If you want my advice, forget Captain Renault." I told her. "Forget America. Go back to wherever you came from. Or stay here. You'll be better off."
"I wish I could," she said, still looking down at the bar. "But I'm just so afraid. If the Gestapo comes here..."
I nodded. "There is another way," I said slowly, "if you've got the stomach for it."
She looked up at me. "What?"
I took a deep breath. "Go with Louie. When he tries something, stop him. Tell him he's a naughty boy for even imagining something so wicked. Tell him you're going to punish him. And then do it."
Suzanne blinked. "I don't understand."
"It's called the English vice. You must have heard of it."
"Oh. That's..." She looked back down at the bar and blushed, then shook her head. "I couldn't."
I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Renault chose that moment to arrive, grinning broadly. "Ah, there you are my dear," he said.
Suzanne stood up. "Thank you Rick," she said. "I shall... consider... your advice." She kept her voice carefully neutral, but in her eyes I saw sadness and resignation.
"It was my pleasure," I told her, then turned back to my drink. Across the room, Sam began playing something energetic on the piano.
Renault extended his arm toward Suzanne. "Come, love, it's time."
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
Frank <sswitcher(at)yahoo(dot)com>
It's nice to see an entry in the all-too-rare endings category, and even nicer when it's one of Starship's highly atmospheric and seemingly well-researched "Second World War" series. I found the characters to be very convincing, although from a contemporary spanko perspective it is perhaps difficult to appreciate the full extent of young Mlle Delecorte's dilemma.
Pablo <Pablo(dot)Stubbs(at)newsguy(dot)com>
Is this the beautiful friendship? It's a bittersweet little vignette that borrows neatly, and speculates provocatively. The voice of Bogart/Rick maybe isn't quite captured, which results in some loss of mood. But the setting is ripe for perversion, and it's done cutely and effectively.