The Ultimate Submission (Jacqueline's Story)
By Gato Medio

Chapter 12

[Caroline - Part 1]

When Arlette and I arrived at the bistro, Caroline and
Claude, who had gone there directly from work, were
already waiting. Claude did the introductions. I ignored
Caroline's outstretched hand and kissed her on both
cheeks. She looked wonderful. Her pitch-black hair and
dark eyes contrasted beautifully with her pale skin, just
as Claude had told us. And her mouth! Her full lips were
always slightly apart. It made me think that she was
permanently ready to plant a kiss on a cock head in front
of her.

The pin-stripe suit and loose pullover she wore did a
good job of hiding her figure but showed just enough for
my trained eyes to detect that there probably was a
magnificent body hidden beneath all these clothes.

The situation was too artificial for the conversation to
flow naturally. Nobody felt at ease. The person who was
most interested in the get-together was Claude because he
was hoping somehow that he might persuade Caroline to
sleep with him. This wasn't likely to happen soon, but he
wanted to maintain a closer social contact, hoping he
might eventually get what he wanted. However, this
evening his desire had to take a back seat as he played
the role of the one who had made Caroline's encounter
with me possible.

Caroline probably wasn't all that keen on meeting me but
kept up the façade because she had once told Claude that
she'd rather go out with me than with him.

I myself never thought that I would fit into the famous-
model-meets-fan role, simply because I didn't consider
myself a famous model. So I didn't find it easy to
contribute.

And Arlette? Arlette had come along to prove to herself
and anybody else what a liberated woman she was and that
it didn't bother her to see her boyfriend chase another
woman.

We ordered some wine to go with our meal. Something light
because we didn't want to get drunk; we just hoped that a
little alcohol might help to break the ice.

"It's funny how some things you do take on a life of
their own," I said to no-one in particular.

I had decided to steer the conversation to the infamous
poster, a subject which had slightly erotic undertones,
to see how Caroline would react to this.

"When I posed for that poster I did not imagine that it
would end up on your office wall, that my room-mate's
boyfriend would see it and later recognize me and that we
would be going to _Le Chambre Séparée_ as a result of it.
How did you actually get this poster?"

I had turned to Caroline who had been awfully quiet,
trying to get her involved in the conversation.

"Yes, it's strange how it turned out. I got the poster
from the shop where I usually buy my lingerie. The owner
knows my taste and immediately told me about the new
products which were about to be launched. I adored what I
saw and felt quite frustrated when he told me that the
products were not yet on the market. Anyway, I asked him
if I could have the poster. He said he would still need
it as an attention-catcher for the survey but as soon as
the survey period ended he would let me have it. That's
how I got it. And I think you look very sexy on that
picture."

Arlette found that this was the right moment to join in.
"So you like to buy sexy underwear?" she asked, and after
Caroline had nodded, she continued, giving me a little
wink, "I know somebody who thinks it's kind of like a
gift wrap, a way of giving yourself to your partner. What
do you think about that idea?"

"Hmm, I don't have anybody to give myself to. I just like
to wear these silken lacy nothings because they make me
feel..." Caroline hesitated for a moment, "desirable."

"Ah, so you do want to look and feel desirable?" This
time it was Claude who joined in.

"Yes, but before you get the wrong idea, it's not the
kind of desire that men think of all the time."

                         -----

It was only a short walk from the bistro to _Le Chambre
Séparée_. When we arrived there, the place was starting
to fill up. The entrance to _Le Chambre Séparée_ looks a
little like the lobby of a five star hotel with guests
checking in and finalizing the requirements for their
rooms.

As we walked towards the reception desk a man patted
Claude on the shoulder and said, "You're a lucky fellow,
young man."

He was referring to the fact that Claude was arriving at
_Le Chambre Séparée_ accompanied by three attractive
females, something most men can only dream of. I had
never thought about what effect this might have had on
Claude's ego.

I told the clerk my name. He checked his computer, looked
back at me, seeming a little surprised, and then handed
me four keys. "You're in the VIP suite on the third
level. I hope you all have a good time at _Le Chambre
Séparée_," he said with a smile.

Access to the elevators and the rooms is controlled by
small micro chips embedded into little pieces of plastic
which function as keys. They come on an adjustable strap
which allows them to be worn around one's neck, wrist or
any other place one might chose. They open doors without
needing to be inserted into any slot or similar device
and prevent people from strolling - accidentally or
intentionally - into places where they're not supposed to
go. The chips also serve as charge mechanism and allow
guests to put any food, drinks or other items they order
on their bill.

Our box faced the stage and offered just about everything
one might expect from a top class lover's nest. The
adjoining room had two double beds and a sliding wall
which could be used to create two separate bedrooms.
There was also a fully equipped bathroom including a
Jacuzzi large enough for four people.

Soon after we arrived, Caroline excused herself and went
to the bathroom 'to powder her nose'. Claude, Arlette and
I looked at each other, all thinking that this meant she
would 'slip into something more comfortable'.

Arlette took the opportunity to take off the dress she
had been wearing. Underneath she wore a see-through baby
doll nighty and a matching thong. Her seamless suntan had
started to fade a little but she was still very proud of
it and didn't want to miss the opportunity to display it
to everybody in this place - and nobody could say she was
naked.

"It seems like you've caught on to this gift-wrap idea,"
I said jokingly. I had prepared for the occasion by
wearing the black bra and panty combination from the
famous poster with the intention of shedding my dress at
a convenient time and letting everybody appreciate that
picture in the flesh. I had also brought along an
identical set, only in white, for Caroline to wear. But I
decided not to rush things and stayed the way I was,
wearing a simple, unspectacular black dress.

The performance had just started with a number called
'Carnival in Rio'. The number probably didn't have much
in common with the real event in Rio, but that didn't
matter. The rhythm was contagious, the girls were
beautiful, and their costumes, although miniscule, had
everybody wonder what treasures might lie hidden beneath
them. The audience loved it.

When the doorbell rang, I went to answer the door. It was
a waiter carrying an ice bucket, a bottle of Champagne
and four glasses.

"There must be a mistake," I said, "we didn't order any
Champagne."

"This bottle comes with the compliments of Monsieur
Meunier," the waiter said, pushing past me and depositing
everything on a little table. "He apologizes for not
being able to be with you tonight and hopes that you have
a wonderful time. If you require anything else, please
let me know. It's all on Monsieur Meunier."

We asked the waiter not to open the bottle as we were
still waiting for Caroline.

When Caroline returned she was still wearing the same
clothes as before, so we all felt a little disappointed.
She didn't seem very pleased about the Champagne and at
first didn't want to drink any. But we jointly convinced
her that she had to at least join us in a toast to our
generous host.

The dancers had completed their first performance and the
band was now playing some smoochy number to give the
audience a chance for some close encounters of the
sensual kind.

"Let's dance," said Arlette, grabbing Claude by the hand
and pulling him after her.

I watched the two leave, then I turned to Caroline and
asked, "Shall we dance too?"

She agreed, reluctantly. When I suggested that she would
be more comfortable without her jacket, she took it off,
just as reluctantly, and followed me to the dance floor.

She was about two inches taller than me but she let me
take the lead. I danced with her cheek-to-cheek, holding
her body close to mine. As we moved through the multitude
of dancers we happened to meet Arlette and Claude. He had
put his hands under her baby doll top and was caressing
one of her breasts. This had caused the garment to move
up and gave everybody a good view of her thong-framed
bottom.

"They're really enjoying themselves," I said to Caroline,
"shall we do the same?" With that I put one of my hands
under her pullover, hoping I might be able to move up to
her breasts.

The moment my fingers touched her skin she froze. With an
expression of terror in her face she moved away from me
and said, "No, please, don't. It's all so sordid. Please,
can we go back to the box."

Her reaction surprised me, but I wasn't going to force
her into anything she didn't want, so I followed her back
to our box. On the way I concluded that she had probably
never been touched by another woman, and had quite
clearly never slept with a man - a double virgin!

Caroline sat down on the bed, supporting her head in her
hands, looking down at the floor. I slid the dividing
wall into place, assuming that Arlette and Claude would
soon want to use one of the beds in privacy.

Then I sat down next to Caroline and put my arm around
her shoulder.

"Listen, Caroline," I said gently, "I'm sorry if I went
too far too soon. I just thought if you don't want to be
desired by a man, you would prefer to be desired by a
woman. And all this talk about sexy lingerie made me
think you already had some experience. Look, I've even
put on the clothes from the poster to get you interested
in me."

I got up, undid the zipper of my dress and let it drop to
the floor. I stood in front of her naked except for a
tiny bra and some miniscule panties. She looked up and
seemed impressed.

"You are very beautiful," she said almost inaudibly.

"I'm sure you're at least as beautiful as I am," I
responded. "Look I've brought exactly the same model for
you to wear. Would you like to try it on?"

She looked at the bundle of frilly textile in my
outstretched hand and was clearly tempted. "Only if you
promise not to look," she finally said.

I went out on the balcony watching the multitude dance in
close embrace. When I returned to the bedroom Caroline
sat huddled together on one corner of the bed like a
trapped animal, covering herself with her arms as if she
were ashamed of her body.

In spite of her efforts, she was not able to completely
conceal her beauty. The sheer white lingerie almost
matched the colour of her skin, her breasts seemed to be
wanting to jump from their lacy prison. And the legs! It
seemed that her slender legs would never end. If women
were capable of getting hard-ons I would have had a huge
erection, just from looking at those legs. Oh, how I
longed to trail my tongue along them until I reached the
point where they met!

But such thoughts seemed to be idle fantasy, because she
could hardly bear letting me look at her, let alone touch
her.

"God, you look fantastic," I said, "why don't you stand
up and let me have a look at you?"

"It is an offence, punishable with expulsion, to try to
entice members of the teaching body."

Where on earth did that come from? She had pronounced the
sentence in a trance-like voice, as if reciting some rule
book she had memorized. Was this some trauma she had
experienced? Had she been thrown out of a school for
displaying her underwear, or possibly more, to a teacher?
I didn't know how to handle this sudden outburst from
deep inside her psyche and made the common mistake of
concluding 'If you don't understand it, ignore it'.

I wanted her to become comfortable with her semi-
nakedness by letting her see that I was comfortable that
way. I walked deliberately around the room from one end
to the other, briefly went out to our balcony to check
what was happening outside and then returned. Then I lay
down on one side of the bed, hoping she would lie down
next to me. That didn't happen but she did turn around to
see what I was doing and it seemed to me that she was a
little more open, relaxing her cover a little.

"Did you ever feel like touching another woman, caressing
her most intimate parts?" I asked, trying to make it
clear that I would be available if she felt like trying
out what that felt like. She didn't react.

I tried again. "Did you ever long to be caressed or
kissed all over your body by another woman?" Still no
reaction.

"Do you never touch yourself, your breasts, between your
legs, and feel that beautiful sensation of lust?"

She looked at me as if she didn't have a clue what I was
talking about.

I said, "Before I used to go out with men I had a very
close relationship with another girl. We used to spend
hours lying on the bed like this - well, not actually
like this, we didn't have a stitch on - bringing each
other off. I used to enjoy that very much. Would you like
to try it?"

She barely acknowledged that she had heard my voice but
didn't react to my suggestion. I decided that a practical
demonstration might help. I took off my bra and started
pressing my breasts against each other to make the
nipples stand upright. Then I ran one of my fingers
around one nipple. I got hold of her hand an placed it on
one of my breasts. It lay there without moving.

In the other half of the room I could hear Claude and
Arlette returning from the dance floor. They noticed that
the dividing wall had been moved into position. Arlette
said, "I think they're at it," and Claude replied, "Let's
do it too."

They seemed to be quite excited and hot for each other.
Soon I could hear them dropping onto the bed and only a
few seconds later there were the unmistakable sounds of
two people making love. In my mind I pictured Arlette
lying on her back with her legs spread wide and Claude on
top of her, pounding his hard cock into her moist pussy.

As the rhythm of the humping got faster I took Caroline's
hand and slipped it inside my panties. I hoped somehow
that the activity next door might inspire her to move her
fingers in the same rhythm.

The humping noise behind the wall soon stopped. Now I
could hear Arlette complain. "Oh no, not again! You
promised you would be slower this time, you would wait
for me!"

Then there was Claude's voice. "I'm sorry, I just got so
terribly excited by it all. It's going to be better next
time, I promise. There will be a next time, won't there?"

Arlette mumbled something which indicated that she hadn't
completely given up on him, then the room became quiet
again.

"Oh dear," I thought to myself, "their relationship isn't
going too well either."

I could feel my frustration rise. Caroline's hand rested
on my sex, but from what I could tell it didn't make any
difference to her if it rested on my pussy or on a dead
fish. There wasn't a spark of desire in sight. My own sex
life was going very well, thank you very much. I didn't
have any need to seduce her. Why should I have to
struggle with other people's hang-ups?

I removed Caroline's hand from my panties, got up from
the bed and put on my bra. Then I got her clothes which
she had placed neatly folded on a chair and handed them
to her.

"We don't have to do this, if you don't feel like it.
Let's get dressed and watch the show."

She hesitated and looked towards the dividing wall. Maybe
she was worried what the others might think, or maybe she
was worried that they might hear me.

I lowered my voice and said, "We don't need to tell
anybody what happened or didn't happen between us. We'll
just behave like two discreet lovers."

She still didn't want to take her clothes from me.

"I think I can do this, but I need your help. I need you
to tell me," she said timidly.

"You mean teach you?"

"No. Order me."

Flashbacks of my relationship with Charlotte passed
through my mind. Of course, that had been a completely
different situation, but I had been only too happy to
submit to Charlotte's wishes because it meant I wasn't
responsible for what I did, I didn't have to feel any
guilt. Could it be that Caroline needed someone to order
her so that she could overcome some kind of taboo, some
feeling of guilt?

I asked Caroline, "Do you really want this?"

"Yes I do, very much."

"Do you want to be my slave and do whatever I tell you to
do?"

"Yes I do," she answered, surprisingly lively. She seemed
to have become animated by the thought.

"Okay, this is how we'll do it: I'll give you a slave
name - Isaura. When I call you Isaura, you have to do
what I tell you, when I call you Caroline, you're a free
human being."

I wanted to try it out immediately, so I said, "Isaura,
put your hand inside your panties and stroke your pussy."

She did exactly as I had told her and sat there with one
hand inside her panties, stroking her pussy.

After a while I said, "Isaura, stand up and pull down
your panties so I can see if you're already wet."

Again, she followed my orders to the T. I couldn't
believe that I was finally going to see that closely-
guarded secret between her legs. I knelt on the floor in
front of her to have a good look. Her pussy lips were
slightly puffed up and I could see some moisture between
them. I concluded that not all hope was lost. As my next
step I wanted to give my slave some public exposure and
ordered her to put her panties back on. Then I pulled her
behind me to the dance floor.

Our arrival, two beautiful young ladies, scantily dressed
in matching underwear, caused quite a stir. We were even
noticed by the band's female singer who announced that
the next song was dedicated to the 'black and white
couple'.

The applause which followed this announcement grew even
stronger when she added that the next number would be
'_Je t'aime_'. This old Jane Birkin song was still
pulling in the crowds and the dance floor filled rapidly
with dancers wanting to do the song justice by
demonstrating their affection to their partners.

I had seen the band perform the song before and knew that
the singer used to emphasise the words by caressing her
breasts and eventually rubbing her crotch through her
dress, a gesture which would have looked vulgar in most
women but she performed it with so much style that it was
extremely arousing to watch her.

As we danced, I pressed Caroline's body close to mine.
She seemed a lot more relaxed now than during our first
dance but I still had to tell her exactly what I wanted
her to do. As soon as the singer started to caress
herself I turned Caroline around so she was facing the
stage and held her from behind, caressing her nipples
through the thin material of her bra. I also told her to
put her hand into her panties and to masturbate.

I could feel how she slowly moved her hand up and down
her slit as I squeezed and rubbed both her nipples and
whispered encouragement into her ear. Her movements
became more frantic and as the song reached its end her
body shuddered and she climaxed with a moan that sounded
like the last yelp of a drowning man. Her legs became
weak and I had to support her weight to avoid her
dropping to the floor.

People near us had noticed what had happened and looked
at her in amazement and admiration. I decided that this
had been enough excitement for the moment and guided her
back to our box.

When we arrived at our room I could hear the rhythmic
breathing and the movement of two bodies in close
contact, noises which told me that Arlette and Claude
were having another go at growing their relationship. I
made Caroline sit down on the bed and offered her some
more Champagne. She refused at first, saying that she
didn't want to drink any more, but I insisted that we had
to celebrate her orgasm. When she finally agreed, she
only took a little sip.

The powerful orgasm she had experienced seemed to have a
detrimental effect on her mood. I was in danger of losing
control, letting her retreat into her shell again. I
kissed her face, ran my fingers through her hair and
tried to cheer her up by telling her how wonderful she
had been, and how everybody had enjoyed watching her come
to such a beautiful climax.

My declarations were interrupted by an outburst next
door.

"For Christ's sake, Claude, you're such a bloody egoist.
Can't you think of me for a moment. I want to come too,
you know. Otherwise there isn't anything in it for me."

There was a humble mumble from Claude, then a long pause,
and finally he said something else to Arlette, not loud
enough for me to understand.

She reacted angrily, "You cannot be serious! No way am I
going to take your filthy little prick into my mouth!"

"Oh boy," I thought to myself, "there speaks a liberated
woman."

I had an idea. I told Caroline to rest a little, I would
be back in a minute. Then I knocked on the dividing wall
saying, "It's me, Jacqueline, can I come in for a
moment?"

The two were lying on the bed, obviously sulking, as far
apart from each other as possible. They had pulled up the
sheet to cover themselves when I announced that I was
coming in. Claude used the opportunity to have a good
look at my semi-nude body.

This was the first time he actually saw me in my
underwear and he said, "In the flesh you look even more
appetizing than on that poster."

This earned him a huff and a black look from Arlette. I
told them that I wanted to talk about Caroline with them
and explained that I had discovered that inside Caroline
there was buried a slave personality who would do
anything she was ordered to do.

The two didn't quite know what to make of my story, so I
said, "If you don't believe me, come and see for
yourselves. And there's no need to get dressed."

Caroline had dozed off and needed to be woken up. This
was also the first chance for Claude to see his colleague
from work down to some flimsy underwear. He must have
felt like some kind of Don Juan, being surrounded by
three beautiful women in various stages of undress, even
though his performance didn't seem to live up to this
role.

I addressed Caroline as Isaura and told her to kneel on
the floor. The short rest seemed to have done her good
because she followed my order immediately and without
hesitation. I motioned Claude to stand in front of her
and then told Caroline to suck his cock until it was hard
again, but to be careful not to let him go over the edge.

She took his flaccid member into her hand and licked its
tip. When it started to harden she took his cock into her
mouth and moved her lips up and down his hardening shaft.
Claude probably couldn't believe this was happening. Ms
Touch-me-not from the office was kneeling in front of
him, giving him a blowjob, something his girlfriend had
just refused to do.

Arlette herself was watching the scene with a mixture of
amazement and disgust. Claude's excitement mounted
rapidly. When he started to moan, I told Caroline to
stop. He looked a little disappointed as he stood there,
his throbbing penis glistening with Caroline's saliva.

Next, I got Arlette to lie on the bed with her legs
spread and ordered Caroline to eat Arlette's pussy.
Again, Caroline followed my orders without hesitation, as
if this was the most natural thing in the world. In fact,
it seemed that Arlette was more uptight about the whole
thing than Caroline.

But she relaxed as soon as she felt Caroline's tongue
sliding up and down her pussy lips, circling her clitoris
and finding its way into her love hole. It was obvious
that this wasn't the first time Caroline had performed
cunnilingus - which cast serious doubts on my double
virgin theory - and it seemed probable that Arlette's
pussy had never before been visited by such an expert
tongue - or by any tongue, for that matter.

Soon Arlette was writhing on the bed, emitting little
moans of pleasure. Caroline had to hold on to her
victim's thighs, pressing them down onto the bed and
forcing them a little further apart, to be able to
continue. Arlette's moans grew louder. Unable to move the
lower part of her body she moved her head from one side
to the other, her hands clasping the bed sheets. Then she
erupted in an almighty orgasm.

For a few moments there was silence in the room, except
for the heavy breathing of the two women on the bed.
Claude was obviously shaken. Watching what he had just
witnessed probably ranked amongst his wildest fantasies.
But hopefully he also realized how much pleasure his
girlfriend was able to experience if she received the
right treatment. His penis stood out from between his
legs like a soldier ready to march.

I helped Arlette get up from the bed and walked the two
to their side of the room, suggesting they give it
another try.

I thought the time had finally come for me to have some
fun with Caroline, but when I turned around I found her
slumped on the floor, her upper body resting on the bed,
her face buried in her arms, crying. I lifted her up,
asking what was wrong.

She said, "The floor of the cathedral is hard and cold."
It was that trance-like voice again, a voice which seemed
to come from somewhere else and simply passed through
her. Something had happened in a cathedral somewhere that
still gave her nightmares.

"What happened in the cathedral? Please tell me."

I tried to order her as her master, persuade her as a
friend, but she did not react to my questions. She was
trembling, her eyes were wide open.

With a terrified look on her face she whispered, "His
weight is pressing me onto the stones."

The stones? Would that be the stones of the cathedral
floor? And who was it that was pressing her to the floor?
Was this a rape? By a priest? She sure had had her share
of problems with figures of authority! First a teacher,
then a priest! Had she provoked them? Had they been so
enthralled by her beauty that they could not resist her?
And then blamed her for it? And why did all this
resurface now?

My mind had no problem coming up with lots of questions,
but there were no answers. I felt absolutely helpless,
not knowing what to do.

Suddenly, Caroline's mood changed again. She looked at
herself and said, "My god, I'm almost naked. How did this
happen? Where are my clothes?"

This was the shy, almost sex-less Caroline I had met
earlier that day. She noticed her clothes on the nearby
chair and put on her pullover, skirt and jacket. Then she
said, "I'd like to leave, please."

The request was voiced in a tone that did not leave any
room for negotiation. I slipped on my dress but removed
my underwear - I wanted to feel the cool air on my body -
after all, nothing else had touched me that night. I
wrote a brief note to Arlette, then I accompanied
Caroline to the exit. I put her into a taxi and offered
to go with her, but she assured me that she'd be okay on
her own.

I decided to walk. It would take me about an hour to get
home but I wanted to be alone and I expected that the
fresh air would help me get some order into the jumble of
thoughts which were floating through my head.

                         -----

Paris never sleeps, but this was probably the quietest
part of the 24-hour cycle. It was the time when the late-
night revellers had gone to bed and the early risers had
not yet started their day. Nevertheless, there were some
people out and about, walking or driving along the
deserted streets.

A few times my silhouette (or maybe more than just my
silhouette?) was caught in an oncoming car's headlights.
Some of these cars turned around for a second look; one
or two slowed down and the drivers shouted unambiguous
invitations. I ignored them. I needed to think.

The temperature had dropped considerably from the
pleasant early autumn warmth we had enjoyed during the
day. I felt cold, particularly when I crossed the side
streets which lead down to the Seine. I shivered and
braced myself as the wind blew the cold air from the
river right through my thin dress. I could feel my
nipples harden from the cold.

I was furious with myself. I had chosen to ignore
Caroline's problems although the indications had been
clear from the beginning. I had manipulated her into
doing what I wanted her to do. She had trusted me and I
had betrayed that trust. My obsession with sex had made
me think that everybody else wanted to spend their lives
fucking and sucking.

But, as I always do on these occasions, I also looked for
arguments in my defence - in the interest of a fair
trial, so to speak. After all, I hadn't forced her to
come with us to _Le Chambre Séparée_ which was well known
as a place for sexual adventure.

Intervention by the prosecution: But she didn't exactly
come dressed for sexual adventure, did she? Was she one
of the handful of people in Paris who didn't know what
_Le Chambre Séparée_ was about? Had Claude not told her
we were going to _Le Chambre Séparée_?

But - my defence continued - Caroline had displayed great
skill and experience in performing both fellatio and
cunnilingus. She had done these things before, and
probably others. I hadn't corrupted a pure person, just
stimulated her into doing things she already knew how to
do. And wasn't sex one of the most wonderful things
people could do, no matter what form it took?

My mind wandered off momentarily to the things Caroline
had said in her trance-like state. I wondered what it
might feel like to be thrown on the hard stone floor of a
cathedral, half-naked, or naked perhaps, and then feel
the weight of your castigator on top of you. The scene I
pictured wasn't that of a rape but of an uncontrolled
outburst of lust provoked, perhaps, by a lack of
humility, by too few clothes, by an excessive display of
female charms. I felt aroused by the thought of being
taken roughly on a stone floor. Maybe not in a cathedral,
but there should be plenty of abandoned churches, maybe a
disused monastery, even the ruins of a castle would do.
We could find such a place and Ramon could play the role
of the priest or monk.

When I became aware of my thoughts I scolded myself for
having turned Caroline's suffering into a sexual fantasy.

I decided to postpone the question whether I was guilty
or not and to concentrate on how I could help Caroline.
Independent of whether I had done her any wrong, I felt
an enormous compassion for that woman with the doe-eyes
and the never-ending legs. I wanted to approach her, as a
friend, as a fellow female, and offer my help. I would
not try any do-it-yourself therapy but would steer her in
the direction of a professional who might be able to help
her.

                         -----

"Good morning, beautiful lady. Would you be kind enough
to assist a less fortunate fellow citizen?"

I had been deep in thought and the voice which seemed to
come from nowhere made me jump. It took me a while to
realise that it had come from a narrow gap between two
buildings. After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could
see a man sitting on the ground near the entrance to the
gap, his back leaning against the wall. He seemed to have
made this narrow space his home. There was an old
mattress on the ground, his clothes were hanging on wire
coat-hangers which had somehow been fixed to one wall. He
even had a little gas stove which was giving off a
limited amount of heat.

"Please forgive me if I have startled you. Sometimes I
forget that people can't see me when I'm sitting in the
shadow of my front porch. Would you be kind enough to
give me a cigarette?"

His unshaven face and his huddled posture made it
difficult to guess how old he might be. He spoke clearly;
his voice sounded like that of an actor or a television
announcer, although living under the open skies, drinking
cheap booze and smoking had turned it slightly hoarse.
The antiquated politeness in his speech was his way of
maintaining his dignity: he wasn't really a beggar, he
was someone left over from a previous century, unable to
cope with the demands of modern life.

"I don't have any cigarettes," I said. "I'll give you
some money, but first I want you to do something for me."

"Anything you desire, oh noble mistress." He said in his
theatrical fashion. It made me think how the meaning of
the word 'mistress' had changed over the centuries.

"I want you to eat my pussy," I heard myself say,
surprised how matter-of-factly I had voiced my request.

"What? Here? Now?"

He was so taken aback that his usual flowery speech was
reduced to monosyllabic questions. There were probably
many other questions going through his mind. Was I
serious about this? Was this a joke? A setup? Why would a
pretty young girl like me offer her pussy to a scruffy
beggar like him? And offer to pay for it? Weren't there
hundreds of willing young men out there who would give
their eye-teeth for a chance of getting their mouths on
this juicy morsel of flesh?

All these questions remained unasked and unanswered as I
stepped into the gap and positioned myself facing the
man. I lifted the hem of my dress above my hips and
spread my legs, leaning against the wall behind me for
support.

The street lighting shone some way into the gap. It
reached the place where I was standing and gave the man
and anybody else who happened to pass by a good view of
my pussy. I could feel my excitement mount, making its
way to my exposed sex. Suddenly, I felt an enormous
tenderness for the man in front of me. "_S'il vous
plait_," I said.

I wanted him to be rough, I wanted relief for the
frustration which had built up inside me. The world,
including myself, had turned out to be less perfect than
I had wished and I wanted to purge all the negative
feelings from my system by letting a complete stranger
bring me to an earth-shattering orgasm - and I wanted it
now!

He hesitated for a moment, then he got onto his knees and
moved towards me. He stopped when his face was less then
a couple of inches from my sex and took his time
contemplating the sight.

This delay only served to heighten the tension that was
building up inside me. It became almost unbearable. I
held my breath waiting for the first contact. Suddenly,
he lunged forward and took my whole crotch into his wide
open mouth, as if he was literally going to eat me,
trying to suck my whole pussy into his mouth.

Next he covered my pubic mound with short little sucking
kisses which caused my pussy lips to open and my clitoris
to peek its head through the gap. Having found a new
target for his attack, he moved his tongue rhythmically
up and down my slit until I was shivering with delight.

Unable to remain passive, I pushed down the top of my
dress to release my breasts and started to knead them
frantically, squeezing and rubbing my hardened nipples.
The man's attention shifted again and my clitoris was
given the full treatment. He put his lips around the
sensitive knob and sucked it into his mouth. At the same
time he used his tongue, alternating licks and stabs with
rapid flicks which sent shivers up my spine.

After a short while he retreated, then shot forward again
and thrust his tongue into my pussy. He grabbed hold of
my buttocks with both hands and pulled them apart,
forcing me to open my legs wider and pushing my pussy
into his face. He continued stabbing his tongue into my
love hole, plunging it a little deeper each time. His
tongue was twisting and turning inside me, then his
fingers found my anus. He forced one of them in the tight
little hole, using short circular movements to get deeper
inside me.

The double penetration by his finger and his tongue was
too much to bear. I came, releasing all my tension in a
primal scream which echoed through the deserted streets.

The man, probably thinking that he had completed his
task, removed his finger from my rear and started to move
away from my pussy, but I wanted more. I pushed his head
back into position and begged him to continue. "No, don't
stop, I need more, eat me, stab me, make me come one more
time," I pleaded hoarsely.

He returned his attention to my now soaking wet pussy and
fastened his grip on my buttocks, this time inserting two
fingers into my anus. His tongue seemed to work even
faster, exploring every crevice of my pussy and sending
wave after wave of delight through my body. My excitement
had reached a plateau and it didn't take long for my
second climax to arrive, this time less noisy but just as
satisfying.

I released the man's head and he moved slowly away from
my pussy. While I straightened my clothes, I tried to
think of something to say, but everything that came to my
mind sounded so trite, so meaningless, so out of place
that I just said, "Thank you," as I handed him a generous
reward - much more than my financial situation allowed -
and left.

"It's been my pleasure," he shouted after me, "you know
where to find me if I can be of service again!"

In fact I did make a mental note of the place where I had
stumbled upon him. "Maybe next time I'll let him take me
in the ass," I thought to myself.

When I arrived at my room I took a shower and, having
promised myself that I would contact Caroline the next
day, I soon fell asleep.

                         -----

When I woke up the next morning I saw that my room mate
had also found her way home. She was still sound asleep.
I went about my normal duties during the day and only met
Arlette again in the afternoon.

"I just want you to know that Claude and I broke up last
night, thanks to your efforts."

The way Arlette said this implied, "And I'm finished with
you too."

I wasn't in the mood for an argument, so I just said,
"Listen, last night didn't turn out the way I had
expected and if that was my fault then I apologize. But
as far as your relationship with Claude is concerned you
ought to ask yourself if this relationship really had a
future, if the two of you really are compatible."

I had planned to ask Claude through Arlette for a
telephone number or some other means of getting in touch
with Caroline. The fact that the two had broken up and
that Arlette was now sulking with me complicated matters.
I didn't even know their full names, nor the exact name
of the department where they were working. While I was
still pondering whether I should ask Arlette how I could
contact Claude, the phone rang.

"If that's Claude, I'm not in," Arlette said.

I answered the phone and found to my delight that it was
Caroline.

"I'm glad you rang. I was just thinking of you. I think I
owe you an apology."

"I can't see why. It's me who owes you an explanation."

I wasn't going to argue with her; I was glad she had got
in touch and agreed immediately when she suggested we'd
meet for a conversation. Caroline said she'd leave work
early the next day and suggested that I come to her place
around four so we'd have enough time to talk.

                    To be continued