Buying the Virgin

Chapter 78: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Thirty-Four

Michael rants on. “… As a kid, she was abused, beaten, locked in the dark. At fourteen she was

assaulted and threatened with everything from gang-rape to torture. In escaping, she believes she has

committed murder. She has a loveless, failed marriage. God knows you ought to sympathise with that.

She has exactly one friend, a teacher, who shows her way out. He later dies on her, but to follow the

dream he started, she quite literally sells herself to a man… let’s face it, to a pair of men… who take

her down a track that must have felt very familiar to her, and yet, in which she still managed to deliver

with very good grace….”

There is a break in his words. Is he panting? Then he starts again. “… And when, finally, she has the

chance to start it all over, her slate wiped clean, the man she loves most in the world, the man she has

fallen deeply in love with…. and it’s not me by the way, don’t think I don’t know it…. sulks at her, for not

having mentioned all this in casual conversation.”

Michael is incandescent… “Fucking well get your act together, James! She’s missing you. She’s

unhappy. Hell! I’m missing you…”

“And you think I don’t miss her, being close to her?” My Master’s voice is quiet.

“You still love her? Yes?”

“You know I do.”

“You and me both. How long do you think she’ll hang around if you keep this up? Cutting her dead?

And if she does stay, how do you think she’ll behave in the future, if this is your response to something

she really couldn’t help?”

“Couldn’t help? She had plenty of chances to speak.”

“When? Exactly? All those weekends when we’d meet up for a day or two and fuck like mink, because,

really, we barely knew each other? Or was it earlier in the summer, when she got the shit beaten out of

her, by you, while I sat and watched, and she ran? Or over the last couple of weeks when she’s been

working hard, and concentrating on making a good impression with Haswell?”

There is a break in the shouting, but the sound of pacing feet.

“What was that about a teacher?”

“The teacher? So, you don’t know about him? Have you considered just listening to her, instead of your

own voice all the time?”

“Alright, alright. What’s this about a teacher? And no, I don’t know about him.”

“When she was at the farm, she had a school teacher. He was obviously an inspirational figure for her,

perhaps even something of a father figure, from the way she was talking. He showed her the value of

an education; how to escape…. She started all this because of him; the drive to get to university, to

raise the money to do it…. You and I only ever met her in the first place, because of him. And when she

went back at Christmas to see him, he’d died. Her one friend. Remember, at that point, you and I were

just a couple of guys who’d fucked her. How alone is it possible to be? I think you could make a bit of

allowance for her taking time to get to know us. Wasn’t that the whole point of us doing this summer

holiday thing? To get to know each other, rather than just screwing all the time? To see if it is actually

possible to make something like this work?”

I choke on my drink, spluttering.

Oh God, that’s why they took the whole summer for it….

There is a pause, silence, then footsteps, coming towards me.

My Master looks out, then down at me. “And how long have you been there?”

“Um, quite a while…. er…. I got back from my walk…. I was coming in, but you were rowing and ……”

He looks embarrassed, flushed. He nods, holding out a hand to pull me up. “You’d better come in.”

Michael is red-faced, furious. Where is my calm and placid, Golden Lover?

He looks apologetically at me. “I’m sorry Charlotte. I didn’t mean you to hear all that.”

“I could hardly avoid it. The sound carried half-way down the beach.”

My Master doesn’t look me in the eye. “Charlotte, I’m… I’m sorry. Michael has given me a lot to think

about…. If you’ll excuse me...” And he leaves.

Michael raises his hands to the skies. “Oh, for pity’s sake…” And he brings his fist down on the table

with a crash.

I start, and he looks sheepish. “Sorry, that wasn’t aimed at you,” he says. “It’s just frustration.”

“I know.”

He wraps his arms around me, rocking me in circles.

“When did this all become so complicated?” I say.

He sighs. “When you fell in love with my best friend, then I fell in love with you, then he fell in love with

you…”

I wait… “You missed out the last part.”

“Did I?”

“You still think I don’t love you?

“I think you’re not in love with me.”

“It’s not the same for you. The two of you are different people. Very different.”

Arms still around me, he rests his head on mine. “Charlotte, once, just once in all this, I’d like a straight

answer.”

I break free, looking him in the eye. “Alright. Try a straight question.”

He cocks his head at me, his smile self-mocking. “Fair enough. Okay, straight question. Do you love

me? Are you in love with me? As well as James?”

I take my time, choosing my words. He looks down, arms folded. “I think,” I say, “that the straightest

answer I can give to that, is that the ‘sub’ in me, is in love with him, but the woman in me, is in love with

you.”

He continues to stare at the floor and my nerve trembles…

“Is that straight enough for you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it good enough for you?”

He looks up, smiling, eyes warm. “Yes, it’s good enough.”

*****

The following morning, Michael’s phone rings.

“Yup? So? Can’t you get a replacement? No…? Oh, right. Okay, I’ll be there in an hour or so.” Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

He clicks the phone off. “I’ve got to go to the Centre for a few hours,” he says to me. “I’d like to take you

with me, but I’d prefer to do that on a day when we can relax and I can…. er… pamper you a bit… You

alright staying here?”

“I’m fine. You go do what you have to do. I’ll have a swim and try to get some sun.”

“Don’t forget your sun-blocker.” He tosses a tube at me, and I catch it mid-air.

*****

I know what I need to do.

My Master is in the lounge, sitting in an armchair. Hands behind his head, long legs stretched out,

crossed at the ankles, he stares, pensively, into space

“Master, may I…. come in?”

He tilts his head at me, expression somber. “Of course you may, Charlotte. It is hardly for me to tell you

where you may, or may not, go.”

I am wearing only the lightest of clothing, a beach robe, nothing underneath, my hair long and loose.

As I approach him, I slip off the robe, letting it fall to the floor. I kneel, naked at his feet, head bowed,

hair spilling around me.

“Master, I’m sorry.”

“It’s done, Charlotte. Let it pass. Michael was right. The problem is mine, not yours.”

“No, it isn’t done, because you are still thinking about it. I hurt you, even if I didn’t intend it. I want to

make it right between us again.”

“And how do you propose to do that? I am what I am. You are what you are.”

“I think you want to punish me, Master….”

He is silent.

“Master, punish me, however you want to do it. Whatever it is, I’ll simply accept it. I won’t make a fuss,

and I won’t run afterwards.”