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He kissed her hard against the wall outside her apartment. His lips on her mouth, her neck, the top of her breasts. He bit the side of her neck, and she shuddered. Too long, she thought, it had been too long. They entered the apartment, mouths still locked together. She pushed him onto the sofa in her front room. He stopped kissing her and grabbed her arse hard enough to hurt and make her moan, “Stand up and strip for me Elle. I want to see you remove your clothes,” James commanded. She stood up in the middle of the room, now unsure of herself. She felt nervous, like the first time again. She desperately wanted to please him. “Take off your skirt. Now,” said James. He watched as she slowly unzipped the side of her short skirt and let it slide to the floor seductively. James looked at her naked legs, the small gap at the top of her thighs tempted him, but he knew he had to remain in control. “Now, the shirt.” Her face blushed crimson as she undid the buttons one by one. The first. Finally she relaxed as her job was done for now and she too relaxed. The wax impressions were hopefully worth the risks she had taken. Growing up in Île de France Florette had learned all about the sins of the world and the violence of living on the edge of grandeur. Florette had met hubris personally in the aristocracy. Florette dealt with avarice daily and she knew extravagance and gluttony lived only a few meters away in the stone chateau. Envy was all around as was the sloth of the ruling French class. But above all else, when it came to the human heart, Florette knew lust. As Florette’s sad soft eyes gazed down at the slumbering young Marie, her chest rising and falling softly in deep sleep, finally free in dreamland, Florette knew it was her duty and that of her daughter Manon to free this young girl for a better future. They had a plan and the plan must work. Back in the basement of the huge stone chateau Jean was continuing his debasement of beautiful young Martine, the.
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