Fanchon's Book

Chapter 4

Fairy tale princess-and mine, all mine! Only I would have to woo and win her first, surmount the obstacles, break the spell, climb the ladder of flaxen hair to the top of the tall tower; ah, would that I were a knight on a white charger!-how tidy it all was in those days, how simple to rescue the fair damsel and carry her off to have and to hold and be listed in the record books forevermore.

I sat there in the darkness, loath to click the switch and dissolve the vision I was still seeing. The pretty pink-nip pled breasts, the creamy S-curves of waist and hip (like parentheses embracing the exquisitely lewd toison d' or) and the legs, the impossible legs, could such beauty be real? Oh, I had some heavy wooing and winning to do, but with that kind of incentive I knew I was damn well going to do it. Cajole her, flatter her, tell her how beautiful she was-and bind her close to me. Bind her with the chains of love.

"Ma'm?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yes, of course." I brought the lights back on, blinking away my dream.

"Were you sitting in the dark all that time?"

"It couldn't have been very long, Kristi." I glanced significantly at her bare feet and legs below the hem of the uniform. "You got dressed in a hurry, I see."

"Well, it was so near bedtime. But I'll put my shoes and stockings on if you-"

"No, don't bother. You could have left everything off, now that I've seen you."

She giggled. "Oh, no. That show is over." Then, just a bit timorously, "Ma'am? Was it all right?" She knelt and started unplugging the electric wires. "Did you like what I did?"

"I liked it very much. Your show was fine."

"Oh, I'm so glad… "

There was a note of genuine relief in her tone; I watched her moving around to set the lamps back in their places, bending this way and that with a kind of nervous exhilaration; she had pleased me and was obviously happy about it. And so was I, of course, far more than I had let on. Perhaps it was only the infection of her mood that I caught, but it didn't seem right that I should sit so quietly nonchalant while she practically bubbled over. I got up from my chair to lend a hand.

"I'll help you, Kristi."

"No need for that, ma'm. I can do it."

The job was nearly finished, anyway. But I still wanted to do something to show what I felt-my gratitude, my elation, the joy of knowing that I had at last managed to put a crack in the wall between us. Much of it had been Kristi's doing, I realized, the peepshow had been entirely her own idea; by this time I was certain that the sweet child was in love with me but just didn't know how to go about saying so. She deserved a reward, a token of my appreciation, something more tangible than the compliments I planned showering upon her. It was up to me to sustain this cordial glow of camaraderie.

"Kristi, I have something for you."

"Ma'm?"

"A present. To thank you for such a charming performance."

"Oh. Is that it? Perfume?"

I nodded, somewhat taken aback by her lack of enthusiasm. It was good perfume, a brand ranked among the best, and I had broken the seal on the flacon only a few days ago. But she didn't seem overwhelmed by my expensive gift.

"You don't care for perfume, Kristi?"

"Oh yes, I do, ma'am. And thank you. But I'd rather not take it, if you don't mind."

"You-you don't want it?"

"Please, ma'm, don't be offended. It's just that-well, I didn't put on my show in hopes of earning payment for it." She smiled mischievously, the green eyes glistening. "Besides, if I needed perfume I could use yours and you wouldn't even know about it. And even if you did, I'll bet you wouldn't scold me."

"'Hmph! Little rascal. All right, I think I understand. We'll share the perfume. You may go ahead and use it any time you care to. And that goes for all my cosmetics and hairspray and lotions and things. Fair enough?"

"Uh… yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"But I still want to do something for you. Now, I mean. Because your show pleased me so much. Kristi, you were beautiful. When the lights went on, you took my breath away. From the top of your head right down to your pretty toes, you were perfect. And I'll be unhappy unless you let me reward you in some way. Now be honest with me, my dear. What would you really like?"

"Ma'm? You-you mean it?"

"Yes, dear. What can I give-"

"No. Not that. I don't want any presents. But did you really think I was beautiful? Even my toes?" She giggled again, a sharp sound, more like a peal of giddy excitement. "Ma'm, I know what you can do for me. Uh, it will be such fun. Let me put on another show for you sometime. Will you do that?"

"Another show? But "of course, my dear. I'd like that very much. But then you'd be giving me a gift, wouldn't you?"

"Well… " She hesitated. un-no, ma'm, not exactly. It's kind of funny and I'm not sure how to tell you. Please, ma'm, you won't be angry with me? Promise?"

"Silly girl. I promise."

"It's silly, I'll admit. I guess I'm even a little bit ashamed of it. But as long as I'm going to work for you, then it wouldn't be right to keep secrets and' hide-"

"Kristi, stop that. There's nothing to be ashamed of. At least not in front of me. Whatever it is, I'll understand and I'll sympathize and I'll love you as much as ever. So come now, you sweet thing, just turn your beautiful face up and tell me all about it. Don't keep me in suspense."

"Well… it's about my being an actress."

"Hmm? An actress?"

"Uh, not a real one, ma'm, just make-believe. I know I could never be in the movies or anything like that. But it's a kind of game I play when I'm by myself-I think up a part and then try to act it out. And sometimes I get so wrapped up in it that I even forget I'm acting. Isn't that awful?"

"Awful? Why, no, Kristi, I think it's cute. But you mustn't frighten me like that; the way you were talking, I thought you were hiding some terrible, horrible vice that might bring the gendarmes down on our necks."

"Uh. I'm sorry, ma'm."

"Nothing to be sorry about. But tell me, uh, this game you play, was that what you were doing when you posed under the lights? Were you being an actress then?"

"Yes, ma'am. Couldn't you tell?" A sheepish grin curved the corners of her lips. "I guess you think I'm pretty silly."

"Not at all, my dear. I only wish I had known about it beforehand. Maybe I would have played the game right along with you. Hmm, now that's an idea, isn't it?"

It was an idea, all right, an important idea, even though I spoke in a bantering tone. So the little imp wanted to be an actress, eh? Well, why not? What a marvelous opportunity for both of us! The more I thought about it, the more I recognized the possibilities involved, wild, erotic; oh, there was no end to the number of delightful scenes we might play together. With a little inventiveness, I could have her eating out of my hand in no time.

"Ma'm? I-I don't understand. You mean you would have stood up and come under the lights with me?"

"Something like that. But only if we had figured out what parts we were going to play. Next time we'll do that, shall we? We'll make up something and have fun."

"Oooh, yes! Ma'm, would you really do that?"

"If it would make you happy. Since I can't reward you with a gift, I suppose I ought to do it in the way you like best. Yes, dear, I'll play your game with you. In fact, we might even attempt it right now."

"Now? But the lamps-they're all-"

"Pooh-Who needs lamps?" Excitement gripped me; Kristi was still exhilarated-flushed face, shining eyes-why not take advantage of such an opening?" All we have to do is choose our roles and start playing them. The entire room can be our stage and-oh, what an idea!-I just thought of something, a good scene to begin with. Shall we give it a try? Just as an experiment?"

"Ma'm… you're so nice. I'm ready. Just tell me what to do. Ooh, I never dreamed it would be like this. Working for you, I mean. I-I-"

"Hush, dear. Don't tell me how you feel; act it out instead. Now there's a part for you to play-you can be a slave girl who worships her mistress. Hmm, we could make something really dramatic out of that, couldn't we? How does it strike you, Kristi, do you think you can playa slave girl?"

"A slave girl… " The green gaze lost some of its luster. "But that wouldn't be acting, would it, ma'm? I'm already your maid and you're my mistress-it's just real life, isn't it? We wouldn't be playing a game at all. "

"Hmm. You do have a point, my dear. But that's easy to fix. Let's say you're not a maid, you're a captive girl in ancient times. And I'm a Roman matron who has bought you at the market-so now you have to please me by being my beautiful love-slave."

"Oh. Ma'm… I-I couldn't. I wouldn't know how."

"That's no problem. I'll show you."

"Ma'm? You? You'll show me? Ooh, yes, that would be fun. Please show me."

"No, dear, I don't think you understand. Once we start playing our parts, I'll tell you exactly what to-" I struck a snag; the woebegone look on the poor child's face stopped me cold. The game meant so much to her and I was apparently spoiling it by changing the rules. What could I do? The little darling loved me-and I did recall having made some sort of promise. Could I disappoint her? Wouldn't that build up the wall of shyness again? And run the risk of another setback just when we were making such wonderful progress?

"Ma'm? Is there something wrong?"

"Not a thing, Kristi. We'll do it your way. And I'll give you a demonstration of how the slave girl's role should be played. Only you'll have to help, of course."

"Yes, ma'm, I'll help. But if you're the slave girl, what part do I play? I don't think I could be a Roman matron."

I chuckled. There was nothing very matronly about the dainty little creature. But I already had a name for her, and in this case it seemed to fit the situation: she had tucked her hair up and it didn't take much imagination to visualize that golden crown as a symbol of royalty.

Still smiling, I went into a curtsy, low, graceful, the kind I had been taught in finishing school. "No, not a matron," I said, peering up at her. "A princess. You're a beautiful princess. And I'm your slave." But my smile was a pasted-on mask; I felt its falseness and dropped my gaze to the level of her legs, her beautiful bare legs, and then I couldn't wait any longer, I just couldn't, I had to kiss the cream-smooth skin, I had to know its softness with my own lips.

I heard her giggle, a silvery obbligato to the clamorous twang of my heartstrings; in a crouching glide I followed her moving body and strove to retain the delectable contact as she edged backward to sit upon the bed. Kissing, kissing, leaving a damp trail of a thousand kisses, I sought the young thighs and mouthed my way between them under the tucked-up hem of her uniform, moaning ecstatically at the unexpected discovery (ah yes, she had dressed in a hurry: no panties!) and at last smothering my moan in the hot silk-thatched mound of flesh that split invitingly and yielded to the thrusting pressure of my face. And oh, the mystery of it, the dark depths, moist, pulpy, tart-sweet to taste and breathe, a vortex of lubricity luring me liquidly ever deeper, mushy, slippery, oily, perhaps even slimy-but did it matter? Did anything matter but this?

For me the play-acting game had ended. I found myself in a mindless abyss of passion; there was no princess, no slave, no mistress, no maid, no sense of identification whatsoever. Only the thrill. The thrill of turning all of my entity into a sucking mouth. It was too enormous to comprehend, but then again I must have been too dazed to even try. And too busy.

Too busy being a mouth. Too busy sucking.

And too busy losing my head, although I didn't recognize it until I heard a shriek and felt Kristi's hands shoving me away roughly, small hands but strong, and I came up out of the wet softness reluctantly, drunk with desire, dizzy with the ineffable sensuality of it all; a sob of desperation tore itself from my throat and I knew only that something precious had been taken from me-but why, why?-and would it never return?

"Ma'm, you're hurting me!"

"Uh… "

"You-you bit me. Your teeth-"

"I-I'm sorry… "

Only it was too late; she was already out of my embrace and racing across the floor-through the door and out of sight, gone to her own room-gone-and I could do nothing but writhe in frantic yearning and sink my fingers into the seething maelstrom of my need, hoping beyond hope that I might find some solace in what I was doing. But I had hardly touched myself when I felt the drawstring of orgasm tighten around my hot flesh, and it wasn't until a century later that I realized that my tongue was out and that I had been licking my lips. Even at the very peak. Licking the taste of Kristi.