Chapter Two

Jon disturbed her breakfast the following morning, again not knocking before he came in.
”I half expected you to still be fast asleep, recovering,” he said, eyes dancing as he walked in. “Morning, pet.” He bent down to give her the usual two kisses, one on each cheek.

“Morning,” she said. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
”Hours ago,” he said. He picked up a piece of her toast anyway and sat down on the second little wrought-iron chair. Most men would have looked silly on it, but Jon didn’t look silly doing anything.

“So?” he asked. Caroline glanced into those mischievous, curious green eyes, and then down to her food again.

“So?” she responded.

“Oh stop it!” he insisted. “I want to know all, Carrie. Come on. All the details.”
”What details?” she asked. She knew he was going to persist, but she was not prepared to play this game. It was bad enough that she had to remember it all – she didn’t see why she had to relive it. And apart from that, there were some personal, oddly pleasant memories in there. And they were hers. And André’s, of course. Although she didn’t like to remember that bit.

Jon let out a loud, exasperated breath.

“Was he a brute?” he asked. “Did he hurl you on the floor and have his wicked way with you? Did he tear your clothes off and terrify you with his passion?”
”Much you’d care if he had,” she said bitterly. Jon laughed.

“Oh dear,” he said. “Was it that bad?” The desire to show him that he had no right to be quite as smug as he was made her answer honestly.

“Actually no,” she said nonchalantly. “It wasn’t bad at all. He knows what he’s doing.” Jon’s face lit up.

“Oh really?” he asked. “Tell me more.”

“No,” she said. “Have some more toast.”
”I don’t want toast, I want to know what happened,” Jon insisted. “Did you do it twice?”

“Yes,” she said. “As per instructions.” He grinned.

“And did you come both times?” he asked. Caroline’s blue eyes flashed to his and her mouth opened.

“How can you ask something like that?” she demanded.
”Easily,” he responded. “I want to know. Did you?” She focused her attention on the strawberry conserve she was spreading on one of the last remaining triangles of toast. Ah well, she could boast a little.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Twice the first time and once the second.” Jon burst out laughing.

“Lucky girl!” he approved. “Full marks to André. Were they good, long orgasms, or just stingy little ones?”

“Jon!” Caroline glared at him this time. He looked totally unrepentant. And he was obviously waiting for an answer. She sighed.

“They were the first ones I’ve ever had, so I don’t have a basis for comparison,” she admitted. Jon’s jaw dropped open.

“Say what?” he asked. Caroline bit delicately into her toast triangle. He’d heard her.

“You’d never had an orgasm before last night?” he asked, incredulous.

“That’s right,” she said. Before last night, she’d have said that it was no big deal. Now, she knew otherwise. Jon was shaking his head slowly.

“Sweetie, if I’d known that, I’d have given you a few myself,” he said. That was too much for Caroline. She stood up and walked away from the table, toast in hand.

“Or I’d have bought you a vibrator and shown you how to use it,” Jon went on. He pounced on the last piece of sliced peach on her plate. “That’s just appalling, Carrie.”

“Well, it’s not an issue any more,” she said. “I’m going to have a shower now.”
”Okay,” he said, standing up. “I’ll come talk to you in there and you can give me some more details.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You are not coming into the bathroom while I’m showering.”

“Oh come on, it’s just us,” Jon said. “And besides, I want to see if he left any bruises on you.”

“He didn’t,” she said quickly. She was walking towards the bathroom as she spoke, but Jon was advancing as well. “No, Jon!” she said, steel in her voice. He moved fast, slipping between her and the door.

“Slip the nightie off and let me have a look, pet,” he said. “Robbie and I both want to be sure that he’s not being too rough with you.”
”He’s not,” she said, trying to push round him. It didn’t work. It was a wide doorway, but he was blocking most of it and his arm was preventing her from getting through the rest of it.

“Jon, I’m going to get angry soon,” she said. He just grinned. Infuriated, she pushed at his arm with her full weight, rocking on it, trying to hurt. His arm didn’t move, and Jon laughed.

“All right,” he gave in. “Since it obviously bothers you so much. But don’t think I’m going to let you off so lightly in future, Carrie. And I’m going to want lots and lots of details.” She started to tell him what she thought of that, and was stunned when he bent down and kissed her hard on her open mouth.

“And you must tell me if he gets too rough with you,” he added. His arm slid around her waist, pulled her tight against him for a quick hug, and then he was walking away. Caroline stood where she was for almost a minute, confused by what had just happened. Not his kiss, so much – Jon didn’t normally kiss her on the lips, but he had done it every now and then. No – what was baffling her was the fact that when he’d pressed his body against hers, she could have sworn that he had an erection. And where she was concerned, that was definitely a first. An unsettling one, at that.

It said something for her state of distraction that she was completely dressed for her luncheon with Isabel and Dara before it occurred to her that André would be driving her there. At that point, she started trying to think of good reasons to cancel. Commonsense prevailed. Eventually, she was going to have to go out. Eventually, she was going to have to face him again. She’d just have to make it clear that he was not to be too familiar with her. She gave a snort of laughter. Given how very familiar he’d been with her already, it was difficult to define what “too familiar” might be, but she wasn’t going to put up with anything other than appropriate behaviour during the day. What happened at night between them had obviously been taken out of her hands.

She waved to Robert and Jon, both engrossed at computers in the library-office, as she was on her way out of the house. The limousine was waiting at the foot of the stairs, as usual, André standing beside it, handsome and impressive in his black uniform.
”Madame,” he said, opening the door. As always, he held out his hand for her to rest her fingertips on as she climbed in. His face was impassive. Caroline said nothing.

She continued to say nothing, as did he, for the drive to the restaurant. It was exceedingly uncomfortable. And ironic, considering that it was exactly what she’d told herself she wanted to happen. She wanted no fraternisation with him, no presumption on his part that just because he got to do whatever he wanted to her body at night, he was entitled to be friendly with her during the day. And here he was, behaving perfectly, and it was irking her something dreadful.

“What will you do while I’m in the restaurant?” she asked him. She’d never wondered this before.
”I will probably drive to the park and read the newspaper,” he said, glancing back at her in his mirror. “And be back by one-thirty, in case your lunch finishes early.” She nodded. No other conversation suggested itself, and he didn’t offer anything.

Lunch was predictable, the food excellent, the ambience pampered and expensive. Isabel wasn’t one of Caroline’s friends, but she was the head of two of the charitable committees Caroline served on, and had been persistent in inviting her to lunch. Caroline had eventually agreed, but had taken the precaution of inviting Dara as well. Dara, the wife of a baron who’d made his name and earned his title by manufacturing beauty products, lived for much of her time in an estate not far from Robert’s. Ten years older than Caroline, she was little, blonde and witty, and Caroline had been instantly drawn to her when they’d met at a “Benevolent Ladies Association” gathering almost three years before. They’d been friends ever since.

They exited the restaurant together.
”That was delightful,” Caroline said. It hadn’t been. Much of it had bordered on boring, but they were all polished small-talkers, and Dara filled the conversational gap whenever one occurred. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Isabel.”
”Such a pleasure, Lady Caroline,” Isabel assured her, holding her hand and patting it. “The least I could do with all that you and Sir Robert do for our worthy causes.”
”We’re always pleased to help,” Caroline responded automatically. She noticed that Isabel’s eyes had slid off her and were looking over her shoulder. She turned just enough to see André standing beside the car.

“Your chauffeur is very…” Isabel lowered her voice. “Striking.” Since they were only steps away from him, Caroline had no doubt that André could hear that. Why, on today of all days, would someone decide to have this sort of conversation with her?

“He is,” Dara agreed, smiling directly at him. “I’ve been trying to lure him away from Caroline for some time, haven’t I, André?” His only response was a professional smile. Isabel’s “gracious lady” persona had slipped dramatically. Encouraged by Dara’s flirting, she leaned in towards Caroline.

“Does he have a tight bottom?” she asked. “I do like a tight bottom in a man, particular when he’s in uniform.” Caroline wondered what Isabel would do if she responded with “well yes, actually, Isabel. His bottom felt very tight under my heels last night while he was screwing me senseless.” She decided not to find out.

But then she glanced over at him, standing there so tall, so confident, so comfortable in his role. And remembered how he’d taken charge of her the night before. Mischief struck.
”Turn around, André,” she said. “And lift your jacket up.” Dara gave a surprised, delighted gasp. André’s eyes met Caroline’s for just an instant before he complied, turning round, flipping his hip-length jacket up to his waist and staying that way, feet together.

“See for yourself, Isabel,” Caroline said.

“Ohh!” Isabel was obviously both shocked and amused. “Well yes, very nice indeed. If Myron and I ever decide to have a chauffeur, I may try to lure him away as well.”

”Thank you again for lunch,” Caroline said. “It was delightful.” She kissed Dara. “You can turn around now, André,” she said. He did. Not meeting his eyes, she rested her fingers on his hand and stepped into the car.

He said nothing on the drive home, but he didn’t have to. The line of his shoulders, the way he sat stiffly in his seat, told her that he wasn’t happy. But Caroline didn’t care. It was a small, possibly nasty victory on her part. But it was a victory, over the man who had so thoroughly possessed her body, and over the circumstances that had given him the opportunity and the right to do so. For once, she spoke to him as she alighted from the car.

“Thank you, André,” she said sweetly.
”My pleasure, Madame,” he replied, surprising her. “I look forward to seeing you tonight.” This time it was her shoulders that stiffened. She didn’t turn around, didn’t respond. She walked away, knowing he’d scored a point in return.

………

At eight-thirty, she knocked on his door. He opened it, wearing another t-shirt and the same pair of jeans.

“Right on time,” he said by way of welcome. He stood back to allow her in and shut the door behind him. It closed with a soft thud, shutting out the outside world, her life, and enclosing her in this private little cell with him. Caroline stood just inside the room, awkward. She wasn’t often awkward, but she didn’t know what to do here.

“Do you want to sit down and talk?” she asked when he said nothing. With a little twist of his lips, André shook his head.

“We don’t need to,” he said. “Why waste time? Let’s just go straight to bed.”

“Oh,” she said. It occurred to her that if he’d been like this the night before, she’d have run screaming out of the door. “Well, I’ll just go into the bathroom, then.”
”Why bother?” he asked. “You can undress here. I’ll help you.”
”No,” she said, backing up a step as he advanced. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” he agreed, walking towards the bed and sitting down.

He was watching her. She was very conscious that every move she made, every button she slipped undone, every piece of clothing she shifted, was observed closely by him. He missed nothing, including her hesitation when she stood before him in just her bra and panties, uncomfortable and embarrassed. He raised his eyebrows at her. What was the hold-up? Her jaw tight, Caroline reached behind her to undo her bra. She took it off, feeling her breasts settle into their natural, still high positions, and then bent forward to slide her panties down and off. She straightened up, forced herself to look at him.

“Come here,” he invited. No compliments tonight, obviously.

His hands weren’t rough on her, but they weren’t the gentle touch of the night before, either. And when he had her lying on the bed, he opened her legs up wide and looked steadily between them, despite her protests.

“What?” he asked as she tried to close them again.

“Surely I could keep them closed for now?” she asked.

“Why bother?” he said again, as he had when she’d been intending to undress in the bathroom. “They’re going to have to be spread wide soon anyway.” He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and felt her tremble. And then he smiled wickedly, but with a total absence of amusement. “To accommodate me and my tight butt.” Caroline’s legs came together with a slap, his hand still between her thighs.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, going to sit up. “That was just a silly little…oh!” He had put his hand on her stomach and firmly pushed her back down onto the pillows.

“You’re right,” he said, leaning over her, his blue eyes bright. “It was just a silly little thing. Like your desire to have privacy while you undress. Or your wish to keep your personal parts closed off to me while you can. Just silly little things.” His hand was moving up and down between her thighs. Caroline glared at him. It made no difference. In fact, he smiled again.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?” she asked.

“It might, if you meant it,” he responded.

“Why was it a problem?” she asked. “I mean, I know it was a little tacky, but you’re a good looking man. You have to be used to women admiring you. To people admiring you,” she amended, thinking of Jon.
”You’re a beautiful woman,” he responded. “How would you feel if Sir Robert asked you to turn around and lift your jacket so people could get a good look at your backside?” She chewed her bottom lip.

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she said, avoiding the question.
”No, of course he wouldn’t,” André agreed. “He treats you with respect. You’re not a servant, after all. Not just a piece of meat.”

Well now, she did feel bad, but it wasn’t in her nature to just back down without an argument.

“I felt like a piece of meat last night,” she said. “And I do now, too.”

“What happened last night was between us, not in front of an audience,” André responded. “The circumstances of this arrangement necessitate intimacy. Yes, I could have allowed you to stay mostly dressed, but I did not think that was a good way to start out a sexual relationship which may extend for up to two years.”
”You kept your clothes on,” she pointed out. He smiled, as he had when she’d said the same thing the night before.

“Skin on skin is much more intimate still,” he said. “Hot and sweaty, too. If, when we’re more used to each other, we feel comfortable about being naked together, I will take my clothes off. Until then, I will keep this barrier between us, so that it is less…how do I put it? Less lover-like.”

“Which leaves me as the only one naked,” Caroline said. “Why don’t we take turns?” He laughed at that. He pried his hand out from between her tightly clamped thighs and ran it up her body, lightly, over her pubic hair, up to her breasts. His fingertip circled one nipple, then drew a figure eight, an omega symbol, from one breast to the other, stopping to circle the other hard little point.

“I need you to be naked,” he said. His smile turned into a grin. “To be honest, I want you to be naked. You are physically beautiful, Caroline. I enjoy looking at you and touching you.” She wriggled under the touch of his fingertip.

“Well, Isabel and Dara enjoyed looking at your butt today,” she countered. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I signed on to be a chauffeur, not a model,” he said. “And what happens between us at night is very separate to that. You, here, for this arrangement, have agreed to give me your body a minimum of twice a day until you are pregnant. The circumstances are somewhat different, I would say?” His fingertip was flicking at her nipple now, lightly, teasingly. She moved sideways on the bed to get away from it. It moved with her. She sighed.

“All right, I am sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I did it.”
”Yes you do,” he corrected. “You were retaliating for your embarrassment last night.” She paused for an instant.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. He smiled, then smoothed his hand out over her breast, her nipple digging into his palm.
”Don’t do it again,” he cautioned before he bent down to kiss each of her nipples, just once. “Now, would you like me to fetch you the robe and we will have coffee?” Although that meant that there would be two more times when she would have to lie naked on this bed tonight, the offer was too tempting to refuse.

“Yes please,” she said.

………….

His determination to make her apologise (and mean it) wasn’t the only surprise of the night, and the other one was hard to take as well – in any number of ways. Still breathless from the orgasm he coaxed from her, from the hot and heavy drive of sex, Caroline was surprised when he pulled back from her almost immediately and tilted her hips up so that her bottom was resting on his thighs. He tucked himself away and zipped up his jeans, then leaned forward and pulled something out from under the second pillow.

“I didn’t go to the park today,” he said, easing her thighs apart. She squirmed, unable to prevent herself from doing it. She didn’t like it when he looked there. “I went to a specialist shop instead. An adult shop. And I got this.” He held up a cylindrical black thing. It looked like rubber or hard plastic of some sort.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s called a plug,” he said. “It goes inside you, like this.” He opened her with the fingers of one hand as he spoke, and he pressed it against her, rotating it slightly until it moved inside her. Since she was slippery and dripping from what they’d just finished doing, it slid in easily. Which was not to say that she found it easy to just lie there and let him do it.

“And now, I press this little button here,” he said. Caroline felt the pressure as he did it, and then the thing inside her seemed to expand, a lot.

“Ummm,” she wriggled uncomfortably, protesting.

“It fills with air,” he explained. “Which keeps it there, so you can’t dislodge it. There is a second little button to push which releases the air, so it comes out easily again.”

“Tell me why this is necessary?” she asked. He was moving out from under her, but still holding her thighs up.

“To keep the semen inside you,” he said. “To give nature more of a chance to take effect. And here, we will put your legs up to let gravity help, too.” With that, he tugged her around on the bed so that her legs were at the headboard. “Move your bottom up onto the pillows,” he instructed. “Just lift there…there, that’s it. And we put your legs up here against the wall. Like that.”

Wonderful. Just wonderful. Caroline was now lying with her head on the mattress, her butt on top of two pillows and her legs vertical, resting against the wall. Naked.

“That should help,” he said.

“This is not comfortable,” she pointed out.

“You want a pillow under your head as well?” he asked, concerned.

“No,” she said. “I want some clothes.” He grinned.

“Always, she wants clothes,” he said, shaking his head. “In a minute, Caroline. Just open your legs wider for me.”
”Always, he wants the legs wider,” she said, responding without thinking. André laughed delightedly.

“You know me so well already,” he said. “Wider, Caroline. Ah yes. That is sealing you nicely.” He ran his fingertip around the edges of the plug, making her jump as he traversed some very sensitive skin.

“How long do I have to stay like this?” she asked. He picked up his robe from the floor and draped it over her, tucking it between her legs and draping it over her breasts.

“Five, ten minutes,” he said. “Give it time to drain. Although I don’t know that we have the right angle here.”
”Perhaps you could tie my ankles to the ceiling?” she suggested sarcastically. To her horror, he looked up, as if considering it.

“No,” he said. He grinned at the look on her face. “But I am thinking about something else. We’ll see.”

Finally, he decided that enough was enough and let her turn around. He spread a towel under her and pressed the button on the plug, easing it out of her. He shook his head and tutted.

“Still some wastage,” he said.

“Does it matter?” Caroline asked, trying to close her legs again. His blue eyes looked into hers.

“Do you want to make a baby fast or slow?” he asked. She shrugged.

“One time can do it, I believe,” she said. He nodded.

“Yes, it can, but if we make it as easy as possible, you will not have to tolerate this arrangement for long, will you?”
”And neither will you,” she said. His smile flashed.

“I don’t mind how long it takes,” he assured her. “This is for you, Caroline.”

She decided to change the subject.

“Where did you grow up?” she asked.

“The south of France,” he replied. “On the coastline.”

“St Tropez?” she guessed.
”Not quite,” he replied. “But close.”
”Tell me about it?” she asked. He smiled.

“All right,” he said, and for the next fifteen minutes he talked, about sun-drenched beaches and the annual influx of tourists, about simple villages which strained to cope, but wouldn’t have existed without the holiday-makers. He talked about wine and fish and village rituals, and painted a picture of an idyllic childhood. And then, just when she was thoroughly engrossed, he returned to the matter at hand.

“Take the robe off, Caroline,” he said.
”But I wanted to hear about…” she started, then stopped as he smiled and shook his head.

“We will have plenty of time to talk,” he reminded her. “Take it off and then roll over, up onto all fours.”
”Why?” she asked, fumbling with the robe.
”Variety,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “And besides, I want to look at your bottom now. It’s my turn. It’s only fair.”

“You’re still making me pay for that?” she exclaimed. “I apologised!”
”You did,” he agreed, watching as the silk fell away from her upper body, leaving her breasts bare to his gaze. “But I have a long memory. There, now just turn over for me, and oh yes. Very nice. Not tight, I would think, but very nice anyway.” His hand stroked over her soft, padded backside. He laughed when she protested and tried to move away.

“Keep still,” he teased. “I’m looking here. Now, open your legs up wider again. I want to look there, too.” Glad that he couldn’t see her face, see the blush that she could feel was suffusing her cheeks, she parted her legs, wide…then wider again, until she knew she was displaying absolutely everything for him, including her dangling breasts, which he could no doubt see through her legs.

“Good, now just hold that position and don’t move,” he said, knowing she’d find it impossible. He brought both hands up, his fingertips resting on the sensitive skin under her buttocks, his thumbs settling in to administer some exquisite torture between her legs.

When she eventually collapsed, gasping from the orgasm, he rolled her over and leaned down, smiling, as if to kiss her. He remembered in time and pulled back, bending lower to kiss her neck. And then he unzipped his jeans, and it began again.

…………………….

“It takes longer this way,” Caroline complained as they walked back to the house afterwards.
”What takes longer?” André asked.

“This having to lie around with my legs up,” she said, trying to banish the mental picture.

“But it may make the process shorter,” he reminded her. “So it may be a good investment of time.”
”It may be a complete waste of time,” she retorted.

“Never,” he argued, humour in his voice. “Something that provides me with such viewing pleasure could never be a complete waste of time.” She gave a huffing noise that made him laugh.

“The other thing we need to work on is the strength of your orgasms,” he suddenly said after a silent couple of minutes. Caroline tripped in surprise. “Are you okay?” he asked, catching her elbow and steadying her.

“Yes,” she said. “Umm…they seem strong already, André.”
”That’s because you haven’t had much experience with them,” he said. “No, don’t bother to deny it. I can tell, Caroline. Anyway,” he went on before she could interrupt. “What I am thinking is that if orgasms make a woman’s cervix open, then a stronger orgasm should make it open more, so we need to work on that. And you can help by doing pelvic floor exercises.” There was a strained silence from beside him. He interpreted it effortlessly and smiled in the darkness.

“Your muscles are very good and you are tight,” he said. “Very tight, believe me. But the tighter the muscles are, the better the orgasms will be, so do those exercises – what do they call them – Kegel? Do them every day. All right?”
”Could we please stop talking about this?” Caroline asked tersely. She had no intention of doing any exercises with that part of her body. She saw him shrug.

“Okay,” he said. “We will talk about it some other time. And here is the door. Good night, Caroline.”
”Good night, André,” she said. He took her hand and kissed her fingers again. “Thank you,” she said softly. He smiled and turned away.

………..

Jon was later the following morning, and to Caroline’s dismay was waiting for her when she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in one of her bath sheets.

“Morning, beautiful,” he said, reclining comfortably on her bed.

“Same to you,” she said, provoking a smile from him. He was wearing a green button up shirt and grey trousers, and he wore them with the flair of a model. His golden hair was bright against the dark blue of her pillowcases.

“How are we today?” he asked.

“Just peachy, thanks,” she responded sweetly. “Go away so I can get dressed.”
”Such modesty,” he shook his head. He sat up and rolled off the bed. “I’ll go as soon as you’ve let me have a look at you.”
”You’re looking at…oh…no, Jon.” She realised what he meant as he walked towards her, determination in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Yes, pet,” he insisted. “Robbie has asked me to confirm that you’re being treated well, and I want to know, too. I let you get away with it yesterday, but today, I’m going to look.”
”I have no bruises,” she said, standing her ground as he advanced.
”Let me just confirm that,” he replied, reaching for her towel. She took a step back.

“No,” she said. She went to step around him, to reach for the towelling robe that was draped over the end of the bed, but he caught her, his arm around her middle. She tightened her muscles and tried to break free. Jon tightened his arm and lifted her off her feet.

“Oh stop it!” Caroline said, kicking her bare feet against his shins. “You are the last person I expect this sort of display of machismo from, Jon.” He laughed at that and put her down.

“I’ve got some testosterone,” he pointed out. “And every now and then, I have to let it out to play. Now, are you going to open that towel like a good girl, or am I going to have to go all he-man and drag it off you?” He was teasing, but she knew him well enough to recognise that he was serious.

“Jon, don’t do this,” she protested. But she moved her hands to the top of the towel anyway. It was just Jon. He was her closest friend, and he was certainly not in the category of “ordinary man” in any way, shape or form. He let her go and stepped back, sitting down on the bed again.

“Open it, Carrie,” he said. “And not just a quick flash. I want to have a good look at you.”

It wasn’t as hard as being naked for the first time with André. That had been nightmare material. But standing nude while Jon’s familiar green eyes slowly scanned her from head to toe was no picnic either.

“Turn around and drop the towel, Carrie,” he said. Sighing her annoyance, she did it, standing motionless while he checked her out from behind.

“You have a few marks on you here,” he said, his hand touching her bottom and making her jump. She hadn’t heard him move from the bed. “And, turn back round…just open your legs a little bit…it’s all right, I’m not trying to see your girl parts, just…there. Some thumb-bruises on the inside of your thighs, too. He’s being a bit too rough, Carrie. Tell him to be more careful.” He bent down and picked the towel up from the floor and wrapped it round her, taking his time covering her breasts and tucking it in between them.

“He’s not rough,” she said, not sure why she was defending him. “I bruise easily and we…Jon, we’ve been doing it twice a night. I mean, it stands to reason that there would be some marks.”

“No beard burn?” he asked, opening the towel at the top again before she could stop him. Her hands rushed to cover her breasts, but he was already closing the towel again.

“No. He must be shaving before you get there,” he approved. “So. With that out of the way, we can settle down and you can tell me all about it.”

She had to tell him something to make him stop pestering her, so she told him about André’s last comments about pelvic floor exercises.

“Good idea,” Jon approved. “Very good for pregnant women too, I believe. Do you know any?”
”No, and I don’t intend to do them,” Caroline said. He shook his head.

“Naughty girl,” he said. “Heaven knows why I love you so much. All right, I will research the exercises and come up with a plan for you.” Jon loved plans. Caroline didn’t. She particularly didn’t like this plan.

“Jon, I’m not doing any of those exercises,” she said. He grinned.

“You are going to stand out against Robbie and I AND André?” he asked. “Brave girl. Or silly one. I must fly now, but I’ll be back to look at your paintings later, pet.” He kissed her cheeks and left.

………..

Caroline didn’t go out during the day, so she didn’t see André. She painted for most of the afternoon and lost herself in a scene she was painting from her imagination, a seascape with a storm brewing on the horizon. When she became truly engrossed, she could taste the salt tang from the ocean, feel the chill in the air as the storm loomed. She stopped for dinner reluctantly, mainly because the daylight had gone and it was harder to paint under the electric alternative.

For the first time since the arrangement began, she joined the two men for the meal that night, served as usual in the first floor dining room, with candles and silverware and fine china on the oval table.

“Nice to see you again, pet,” Jon toasted her with his wine glass when she walked in. He and Robert were already seated. He’d visited her as promised in her studio, but had left her to it when he saw how into the painting she was.

“I was beginning to think you were never going to dine with us again. We’ve missed you, haven’t we Robbie?”
”Yes,” Robert said, smiling vaguely at her. The thought struck Caroline that Robert probably wouldn’t notice if she never showed up again. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her or care for her, it was just that she wasn’t one of his priorities. Work and Jon were it – that, and occasionally playing to the world press to ensure that his image was upheld.

“I have some exercises for you,” Jon said, once she was seated and a bowl of soup had been placed in front of her by a handsome, dark-haired man in a white uniform.
”I don’t want to know,” Caroline said. The soup was delicious. Jon grinned.

“We’ll go through them tomorrow,” he insisted. Caroline ignored him.

“What exercises are these?” Robert asked, making conversation.

“Kegel exercises,” Jon answered him. “They’re for tightening pelvic floor muscles in women – good for health reasons, and brilliant for giving wonderful orgasms to all concerned, Robbie.”
”I’ll take your word for it,” Robert responded, while Caroline rolled her eyes and wished Jon would at least wait for the servant to leave the room. The servant’s face remained expressionless as he stood to one side of the table, but there was no doubt that he’d heard. Jon continued blithely.

“Well, I’d be doing them if I had a c…”

“I’m sure you would,” Caroline interrupted him. “But I’m not going to. Did you have a productive day?”
”Very,” Jon said, allowing her to change the subject. “And you were painting up a storm, Carrie. Pun intended.” At her quiet groan, he turned to Robert again. “You should see this painting,” he said. “It’s marvellous. All wild and passionate and roiling and dangerous. I think the Frenchman is having an interesting effect on our Carrie.” Robert looked at Caroline, raised his eyebrows questioningly, then went back to his soup.

…………

Eight-thirty again. She stood outside his door, wondering whether it was ever going to get easier. She couldn’t deny that some parts of the arrangement were surprisingly easy to deal with – not just the actual sex, but the conversation and companionship. Dinner with Robert and Jon had highlighted for her just how small the connection was between them – particularly between herself and the man who was nominally her husband. With André, conversation flowed, and they talked about all sorts of things. That part was good.

But there was no denying that other parts of the arrangement continued to be extremely difficult to deal with. Knowing that once she was on the other side of this door, it was only going to be a matter of time before she was going to be expected to be naked again…knowing that he would once more take charge and place her, position her and play with her body as he wished…that was all difficult. Caroline was a biddable woman, but not a pushover, and André, knowing that she was going along with her husband’s directive for whatever reasons, was clearly not above taking advantage of the situation. There had been no need for him to make her go on all fours for him the night before, for example. That had just been something he wanted to do, and something he gave her no choice in. She found it…

“Coming in, or are you going to stay out there all night?” André asked from the door she hadn’t heard him open.

“Hello,” she said, feeling silly.

“Hello,” he responded with a smile. “Please, come in.” She walked past him and stood still while he shut the door. Again, she was not sure where to go or what to do. She jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

“You are so tense,” he commented. “Relax, Caroline. Tension is not good for you.” His fingers dug in, feeling wonderful on her tight muscles. The fact that he was the cause of her tension was not lost on her, but he was going a long way towards alleviating this particular symptom of it.

“Come,” he said, his arm around her. He led her over to the two chairs, sat down on one, and surprised her by pulling her onto his lap, her legs over one arm of the chair. “Snuggle in,” he invited, easing her down against him, her head on his shoulder. “Tell me about your day.” He was being so nice, so sweet, and Caroline had a totally unreasonable desire to hit him. She smothered it.

“I painted for most of the day,” she said.

“You paint?” he asked. She nodded, her silky hair moving against his jaw.

“What do you paint?”

“Mostly landscapes,” she said. “Usually from my imagination. Sometimes I paint still life arrangements, and I’ve painted Jon a few times, too.”
”He keeps still long enough?” André asked. Caroline smiled. André’s arm was around her, his hand on her hip, warm and soothing.

“He likes posing,” she said.
”I’m sure,” André replied dryly. She laughed at that.

“And he’s a beautiful model,” she said. “His face is perfect – almost too perfect. You can’t even see any pores in his skin.”

“I can’t see any in yours, either,” André said. He touched his finger-tip to her cheek. “Your skin is like alabaster. But not the skin on your body. That is like marble, because it is so translucent you can see the veins through it. Particularly on your breasts.” Caroline forced herself not to squirm on his lap. She looked around the room, missing the smile he controlled before she glanced back at him. He was embarrassing her, and he knew it.

“What’s that?” she asked, looking at a large metal frame that had materialised since the night before.

“That is a surprise,” he said. “No, don’t get up yet.” She was trying to climb off his legs to get a closer look at the thing. “Do you remember the craze a few years ago for anti-gravity boots? The ones that made it possible for you to hang upside down and exercise that way?”
”Yeeees,” she said, fearing that she knew where this was going.

“Well, this is a copy of that,” he said. “It was in the house gym and no-one was using it, so I brought it down here. There were boots in different sizes, and I took the smallest ones. I think they will fit you.”

”They must have been Jon’s,” Caroline said, doing her best to not think about what she was now sure he had in mind. “His feet are only one size larger than mine.”
”That’s very small for a man,” André commented.

“He’s a small man,” she stated the obvious. “He’s an inch taller than me, and he fits into my dresses.”
”And you know this how?” he asked.
”He put one of them on a few months ago,” Caroline said, smiling in memory. “A blue-green designer original that came to mid-thigh and looked fabulous with his eyes. It didn’t look good on me, and I said it wouldn’t suit anyone. He decided to prove me wrong.”

André looked dubious.

“At the risk of being obvious, he does not have your curves, Caroline. I would think a dress would just hang on him.”
”If he hadn’t borrowed one of my bras and stuffed it with cotton wool, it would have,” she agreed. “But he did, and he jammed his feet into a pair of my high heels, and strutted around looking drop-dead gorgeous. Most men don’t look good dressed up as women, even if they’re handsome, but Jon looked better than most women do.”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t look good dressed up as a woman,” she observed. She leaned back against his arm to study him, taking his jaw in her hand and turning his face to see different angles. His skin was olive-toned, his eyes rimmed with lashes almost as long as hers. His nose looked as if it might have been broken at some stage, and his bone structure was strong, and very nicely shaped.

“I promise you that you will never find out whether you are right or wrong,” André said. “I don’t think there’s a dress in the world that would fit me, for a start.”
”Those shoulders would make it difficult,” she agreed.

It was easy to be lulled into comfort, sitting cuddled up on his lap like this. She didn’t remember ever doing this before, even with her parents. But still, she’d stalled long enough and it was time to bite the bullet.

“André, I don’t want to use the anti-gravity thingie.”
”I know,” he grinned. “But we will give it a try and see if it works.”

“No, I don’t want to,” she persisted.

“I know,” he responded.

“And?” Caroline asked, exasperated.

“We will give it a try and see if it works,” he repeated simply. “Now, are these buttons on your blouse just for show, or…no, I see that they aren’t.”

He kept Caroline on his lap while he undressed her, despite two attempts on her part to get up. Unlike that morning when Jon had lifted her with a show of strength, André didn’t appear to expend any effort at all in restraining her. She’d try to get up, he’d move his hand, and all of a sudden she’d be back down again. Just like that. And just like that, she was soon sitting naked on him, wriggling helplessly as he used his hands on her, arousing her, stirring her and slowly, steadily, driving her crazy.

“Have you started those exercises yet?” he asked as he kissed her neck. His hand was between her legs, and his finger had just slid inside her, leaving her in no doubt as to what he meant. Caroline squirmed. It felt so weird, so intrusive and so damned good at all once. She was never going to get used to this.

“No,” she said in a strangled voice. “And I’m not going to.”
”Bad girl,” he scolded. He looked up, into her eyes. “Still, I think I will take you to bed anyway.” He shifted his hands, closed his arms around her and stood up with her cradled against his chest, walking with her like that as if she weighed less than nothing.

The plug again. She didn’t like the plug, but André seemed determined that it be used, so she put up with it when they’d finished, not protesting this time as he inserted it into her and pushed the button. But she did protest when he eased her feet into the big black, heavy plastic boots.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, sitting up and trying to pull her foot away.

“Lie back down,” André said. “That plug is good, but it is best if you don’t get vertical yet, Caroline.” Sulking, she flopped back down onto the bed, wishing immediately that she hadn’t when her breasts bounced madly. André’s appreciative laugh didn’t help. She crossed her arms over the offending items.

“Can you pass me the robe?” she asked, conscious that the rest of her body was still on complete display.” He shook his head.
”I am going to want to check on progress down here,” he said, patting the top of her thighs. “And unless you are wearing knickers, which you won’t be, there will be no way for anything else to stay up. Or down, as the case may be.” Caroline groaned.

“This is ridiculous,” she said again.

It got worse. Once he was satisfied that the boots were on properly, with special straps around her ankles, he lifted her again and carried her over to the frame, keeping her hips tilted up.

“Now, the tricky bit,” he said. “When I have seen people use this, they have taken hold of the bar and swung their feet up, but I don’t think you have the upper body strength for it, even if it did suit our purposes, so just lift your feet up – yes, like that, and slide the bottom of the boots into those grooves…that’s one, and…yes, well done.”

He lowered her down slowly, making sure that her head was well clear of the floor. He’d tried the frame himself that afternoon and it had provided enough room for his much longer body, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Caroline’s heavy breasts flopped upside down on her chest, and her short crop of hair reached for the floor. She copied it by reaching over her head to the floor to steady herself with her hand. She put her other arm across her breasts.

“Now, we just move these slides further out,” André said, shifting the bars her boots were now locked into. The boots parted company, each shifting further out along the bar, parting her legs as they went.

“André!” Caroline protested. “Let me at least keep my legs together.”
”No,” he said, smiling down at her. “I want to be able to check to see how the drainage is going. And what are you trying to do now?” She had folded herself in half, and was, with great effort, trying to reach up to where her feet were. She wasn’t succeeding. She did manage to get a hand between her legs, however, where she fumbled with the plug, trying to find the release button.

“Stop that,” André scolded, catching her wrist. “I didn’t want to use these, but obviously I’m going to have to.” With that, he bent down and pulled out some long, wide cloth bands from under the curved base of the frame. Still holding her wrist, he wrapped one end of one of the bands around it, then stretched it out and fixed it to the side of the frame, while she protested and struggled and tried to break free of his grasp.

“No!” she all but yelled, reaching over herself with her free hand to try to pull the Velcro tie free.

“That’s not going to work, and you know it,” he said, speaking in a calm ‘you’re being a very silly girl’ voice that made her want to head-butt him. He caught her second wrist and did the same thing to it, leaving her hanging upside down, naked and spreadeagled.

“I am NOT impressed,” she said tersely. André bit his lip and tried not to laugh. She was using her best “Lady Caroline” tone, somewhat incongruous in the circumstances.

“Of course you’re not,” he sympathised. “Let’s see if it’s working.” He walked behind her, pressed the button on the plug, which was now very easy for him to see. All he had to do was look down, between her widely splayed, pale thighs to see that and everything else, stretched open and vulnerable. He slid the plug out and, to her discomfort, slid his finger in.

“Hmmm,” he said. “Perhaps you should wriggle a bit, shake it down.”

“I will not!” she said. The blood had rushed to her head and she felt overheated as well as overexposed.

“Oh go on, just try it,” he said. He put his hands on her hips and moved them vigorously from side to side. Her breasts thumped heavily together and she hung there, fuming and helpless. She couldn’t even stop them now that her hands were tied.

“Stop it,” she said through clenched teeth.
”Then you do it,” he replied calmly.

“I don’t think so,” she said, still through her teeth.
”Would it help if I tickled you?” he asked, managing to sound helpful. Her quiet scream of annoyance provided the answer. Unfortunately, it made him laugh.

“Here, perhaps?” he asked, dancing his fingers under her bottom. Or here?” He reached around and tickled her navel with his other hand while she squirmed and protested. His hand moved up, his fingers prancing over her pubic mound.

“No! No!” she was gasping. “Stop it!” Eyes brimming with laughter, he moved around her and crouched down so she could see his face.
”Then wriggle,” he said. “Not a lot, just enough to help gravity.” Mortified beyond belief, she jiggled her hips.

“More than that,” he said, disgusted. “That’s a pathetic attempt, Caroline.”
”I am not doing any more,” she said, definite on the subject.

“I wonder whether your breasts are more sensitive when they’re upside down?” he said conversationally. “They’re very, very sensitive anyway, so it will be interesting to…ah, that’s better. Just wriggle like that every now and then.”

“I’m going to faint,” she said.

“No you’re not,” he responded. “But you might bruise yourself with all that bouncing around. I’ll just hold these steady.”

For the next five minutes, a lifetime, she hung there, furious and humiliated, his hands cradling her breasts, his face level with her pubic hair. Every thirty seconds or so, in response to his instruction, she shook her hips. If she refused, he played with her nipples until she did. Finally, finally, he undid the bindings on her wrists, straightened up and untied the boots so she could slip her feet out.

“Any leakage?” André asked, putting her down on the bed. She scrambled off it instantly and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m leaving,” she spat at him. “I can’t believe you did that to me!”
”I did it to help the process,” he shrugged. That Gallic shrug again. At the moment, she disliked it intensely, along with all of the rest of him. “I’m sorry that you found it so difficult.”
”Of course I found it difficult you…you dolt!” she said. “You try hanging upside down naked, while someone tickles you! I’m going.” She wrenched open the door.

“Like that?” André asked. The cool air on her skin alerted her to what he meant. She looked down, gasped, and slammed the door again.

“Give me my clothes,” she demanded. He crossed to the chair, picked them up and grinned.

“No,” he said. “And no, to that, too.” He dived for the bed and put a hand on the bedcover she was trying to grab.

“I am not staying here,” Caroline said.

“Then off you go,” he encouraged. “You know where the door is.”
”I can’t go naked,” she said.

“Then you can’t go,” he responded.

The stand-off continued. Too angry to care about modesty, Caroline stood with her hands on her hips, her body trembling with rage.

“This arrangement is over,” she said. André shrugged again.

“Okay,” he said. “You go tell Sir Robert.” She was almost angry enough to do it. Except for one thing.

“Give me my clothes,” she said again, holding her hand out. He shook his head. She made an inarticulate sound that nevertheless expressed exactly how she was feeling.

“I will have you sacked!” she said. He grinned.

“Off you go, then,” he said again. With another wordless sound, Caroline lashed out and kicked the bed in frustration. Hard. And cried out as she cracked her toes on the frame. André was beside her in a second.

“Are you all right?” he asked. He picked her up and sat her down on the bed, dropping to his knees in front of her. He reached down for her foot. “You’ve probably just bruised your toes, but they must hurt. You poor little thing. I’m sorry I teased you.” He drew her foot up to his mouth and kissed each of her toes.
”I’m sorry, Caroline.” His face, his words were so sincere. She was still angry though. And her foot hurt.

“I am never going on that thing again,” she said. He nodded.

“It didn’t work anyway,” he said. He put his hand on the inside of her knee. “See? No more of it stayed in you than before.” At that, Caroline gave up and flung herself back onto the bed again, not caring this time that parts of her body took a long time to settle. André crawled up onto the covers beside her, lay down and draped one long arm across her middle.

“Still going to end the arrangement?” he asked.

“I can’t,” she said, staring at the ceiling.

“Why not?” he asked. Caroline was silent.

“I just can’t,” she said.

“What sort of hold does he have over you?” he asked quietly. Caroline turned her head to look at him.

“Nothing,” she said shortly. She winced. “My toes hurt.”
”Don’t kick the furniture in future,” he advised. “It doesn’t bruise.” She lifted her leg and looked at her foot.

“Well, Jon will be happy,” she said. “I think he was almost disappointed that he only found a few tiny bruises on me today.” The words were out of her mouth before she realised what she’d said. André pushed himself up and rested on one elbow.

“Explain that, please?” he asked. Caroline sighed.

“He insisted on checking me for bruises this morning,” she said. “He wanted to yesterday, but I wouldn’t let him. Today he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He made me take my towel off and let him look me over.”
”Nude,” André clarified. She nodded. André did not look pleased. “He thought I was mauling you, perhaps?” he asked.

“No…well, I don’t think so, but he and Robert wanted to make sure that I was all right.”
”Despite the fact that they sent you here to have sex with a man they know almost nothing about,” André continued. “Their concern for your wellbeing is almost overwhelming.” She didn’t have an answer to that.

“Does he make a habit of seeing you nude?” he asked. She shook her head.

“That’s the first time,” she admitted. “And it was very uncomfortable. He has seen me in underwear before. In fact, he comes with me to buy underwear sometimes. He flirts up a storm with the salesladies and has a wonderful time. But he’s never seen me naked.”
”Jon flirts well with women?” André sounded disbelieving.

“Oh yes, and he’s very good at it,” Caroline assured him. “He’s so beautiful that woman are normally stunned just by his appearance, and when he turns the charm on as well, they’re putty in his hands.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he obviously knew he wasn’t. “But isn’t he supposed to be gay?” Caroline nodded.

“Of course,” she said. “But he can turn the over the top gay behaviour on and off. With me, he’s usually nothing like what he is when Robert’s around. I’d be prepared to bet that none of the salesladies would know that he’s gay.”

“And yet women are supposed to be able to sense things like that,” André said.

“That’s sexist,” Caroline pointed out. “He’s good at it. He has a way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the world, whether you are male or female.” André nodded.

“He looked at me like that the first time I put the chauffeur uniform on,” he said. “That was before I took it to a tailor and had some of the seams let out so I could actually move without cutting off the circulation from the waist down.” Caroline laughed softly.

“Yes, he does like our men to wear tight pants,” she said. She glanced down at the jeans André was wearing, and in the process realised, startled, that she was still stark naked.

“Can I have my clothes now, please?”
”No,” he smiled. “But you can have them after we’ve made love again. And I won’t hang you up on the frame this time.”

“Or ever again,” she said as he rolled over, one hand on either side of her naked body on the bed. The teasing light was in his blue eyes, but he relented.

“Or ever again,” he agreed.

……..

As he was saying goodbye to her at the house, he took something out of his back pocket.

“Here,” he said. “I bought this at the adult shop today. I’m becoming a regular there.” Caroline really didn’t want to look down, but she did. A very slim, very small white cylinder lay in his palm, about twice the width of a pencil and not as long.

‘What is that?” she asked.

“It’s a tiny little vibrator,” he said. “Take it.”
”I don’t want it,” she said. He smiled, took her hand, turned it over and put the item in it, curling her fingers over it.

“If you are not going to do the Kegel exercises, then you are going to do this,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “Tomorrow night, when you walk down to me, before you leave your room, slide this up inside you and leave your panties off. Hold it inside you, tight, not letting it slip out, all the way to my door. You don’t have to turn it on this time.”

Caroline just looked at him.

“Understand?” he asked.
”I understand all right,” she said. “But if you think I’m going to do it, you’re…”
”It’s a deal-breaker, Caroline,” he said firmly. “If you don’t do it, I will have to end the arrangement.”
”But…”
”It’s just a little thing,” he said, echoing their words from the night before. “It won’t hurt you, and your muscles will get a workout.” He drew her hand, still clutching the vibrator, to his lips. “Good night,” he said.

………

It was bad luck that she was still holding it when she got to her room, because Jon was stretched out on the bed again, and he saw it, or saw that she had something, even though she tried to hide it.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she responded. He was off the bed and coming towards her. She put her hands behind her back.

“It’s personal,” she tried.

“Oh good. I like personal,” he smiled evilly. “Show me, Carrie.” He held his hand out. “Is André giving you presents now?” Knowing he’d take it off her anyway, she gave in and held her hand out, intending to show it to him quickly and then close her fingers over it again. He snatched it from her palm.

“A mini vibrator. How cute,” Jon said, turning it on and off. “What are you supposed to be doing with this? Clitoral stimulation?”

“Give it back,” Caroline demanded. “Jon, I want it back.”
”I’m sure you do,” he teased. “But you’re not getting it until you tell me all. What is it for?” She gave up and sat down on the bed. She wanted a shower, but she didn’t want him walking off with the vibrator. Not if it was going to be a deal-breaker, as André had threatened.
”Because I won’t do the pelvic floor exercises, and no, I won’t, so don’t start with me,” she said. Jon had opened his mouth, but he shut it again. “He said I have to…putsidemenwalktohisdoor.”

“Say that again in English?” Jon asked. He moved towards her and sat down on the bed. Caroline sighed.

“He said I have to put it inside me tomorrow night and walk down to his door without any panties on,” she said bitterly. Jon burst out laughing.

“He’s a wicked man, isn’t he?” he said when he’d stopped. “I like him more and more. But what’s going to stop you from just pushing it back in if it starts to slip out?” Caroline didn’t answer him.

“Dear me. If you want anything done properly around here, you have to do it yourself,” Jon said. “I’ll be here at 8.20 tomorrow night, pet. To help out. Sweet dreams.” With the vibrator still in his hand, he kissed her cheeks as she was protesting, and sailed out of the room, beaming with mischief.

She waited for a few minutes to be sure he wasn’t coming back, then walked into the bathroom, opening the second drawer in the cabinet. She shifted a couple of boxes of tampons, some tissues and a comb out of the way, and pulled a rectangular cardboard box out, sliding a metallic card out of it. Then, musing that all of the upside down discomfort she’d suffered tonight, along with all of the embarrassment inherent in sharing her body with André had been as futile as it had been humiliating, she popped the yellow pill out of the card and swallowed it. No-one, not even Jon, knew she was on the pill. She’d gone on it after a month spent panicking after the short-lived liaison with the professor, and had never gone off it again. Fortunately.

She had two years to work out what she was going to do next, but she was not planning to have a baby.