His expression must have arrested her, if not the pleading note in his voice.
“Give me a minute to explain. You have to understand--” He drew her close, not wanting her to flit away again. His fingertips traced her curves under the water. He made sure she was looking before he spoke. “It scared me at first, okay? The responsibility of communicating with you. I wasn’t sure I could do it. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. Bastien misunderstood...” Or maybe he had understood all along. “Wait. Did Bastien tell you to come here tonight?”
Constance thought a moment, and then rolled her eyes in a perfect approximation of Kai’s own feelings.
“That manipulative bastard,” Kai said with a laugh.
Constance pulled away from him. She didn’t swim away, but bobbed in the water at arms’ length, dissecting him with an astute gaze.
Kai drifted beside her, moving his legs slowly to stay afloat. “Listen, I know now... Now that I’ve thought about it... Look, I want you, and you’re the only one I want. Everything else is secondary, and I’m sorry--so sorry--if your feelings were hurt.” He looked down in the water, where her hand floated next to his. He took it, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’ll learn sign language. Whatever. We’ll figure it out as we go along. I can even live with your insect thing.”
She looked confused. He said it again, more slowly. “Your insect thing. It said on your profile that you were interested in etymology.”
The most amazing thing happened then. She laughed. She threw back her head and laughed out loud. The melodic sound echoed off the rocks around them while Kai watched in wonder. Obviously, she was laughing at him, but he didn’t care. He thought to himself, she can’t even hear how beautiful her laughter sounds.
She swam to the edge of the pool near the fire, and he followed her. She pulled herself half out of the water and picked up a little notebook and pen. She wrote two lines while he floated in the water beside her, and then thrust the page under his face.
Etymology--the study of the origins of words
Entomology--the study of insects
He looked back over at her. “I see. Well. That’s actually a relief.”
She laughed again, her face alight with happiness, and tossed the notebook down. He picked it up and drew her close, handing it back to her. “Tell me. Write for me. How do you feel? Do you want to come with me to the U.S.? Be with me for a year? My odalisque?”
She didn’t even glance at the notebook, nor did she write a word. Instead she put her arms around his neck. She laid her cheek beside his, trailing fingers through his hair. “Yes,” she whispered against his ear. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He caught the last yes in a kiss. He took her mouth with all the pent up frustration--and now relief--of his desires. Yes, she would come with him. She pressed closer, and it was all he could do not to spear her on the head of his cock and drive all the way in. If only he had protection, he would have. But there would be plenty of time for that.
Instead, they spent an hour swimming together, exploring one another’s bodies and getting one another painfully aroused. The shadows danced around them, lending an air of unreality and timelessness to their play. In the absence of condoms they resorted to hand jobs. She rode his fingers under the water, braced against him with her arms clutching his neck. He bit and sucked her nipples, hard and cold in the air above the water, and thrilled to each jerky twitch of her hips. By the time she came, he was nearly bursting himself. She reached eagerly to grasp his cock, running her fingers over it in breathless exploration. It felt naughty and secret. Kai had no doubt they weren’t alone here in this deserted place. He hadn’t attempted to locate the camera, but assumed it was there. But it couldn’t see under the water, to their grasping fingers. It couldn’t hear her sigh in his ear, or his low answering moan as she caressed his balls.
When he came with a growl, spent his cum in the currents of the murky water, she watched with her hyper-observant gaze. He knew she could never just be some mindless, inert body for his usage. Again, he felt the specter of awesome responsibility he was taking on. But it would be worth it. He was one hundred percent convinced of that.
So, the next morning, when they sat across the table from Bastien and Maison Odalisque’s elderly lawyer, Kai didn’t feel one iota of doubt. Only impatience--it would be a full month before Constance could come stay with him. Of course, that made sense. Such involved arrangements couldn’t be undertaken in one night. Odalisques weren’t a cash-and-carry kind of thing.
Kai signed releases for background checks and credit inquiries. He agreed to present medical tests and physicians’ references so he wouldn’t have to use condoms while she was in his care. He signed agreements to require barriers for any others who shared her, agreements to provide needed medical and dental care, and a “privileged” level of keeping and shelter. He agreed to allow her freedom from any menial obligations.
He learned some things too. That odalisques were guaranteed one day a week free of sexual use by their Master, unless they voluntarily granted him rights. He learned that odalisques were given respite during the days of their period. That odalisques were, by agreement, to be allowed “adequate” time to sleep, to the tune of a required eight hours a night. Kai mentally added it up. All that time he wouldn’t be allowed to fuck her. He chuckled inwardly at the anxiety that provoked. It would never be enough time, never. In the event a year wasn’t enough, the contract allowed for a renewal, up to five times. Six years. After six years of service, all odalisques retired with the small fortunes they had accrued.
It was all very fascinating. Kai slid a look at Constance perched on the edge of her chair beside him. For the first time since he’d made her acquaintance, she was wearing clothes--and she looked very fetching in her long black jacket and pencil skirt. In negotiations and the signing of documents, odalisques were equals, not slaves, and so clothes were a necessity. Her hair was pulled back in a chignon--a loosely elegant one his fingers itched to bring down. Her legs were primly crossed. Somehow he knew those stockinged legs ended in a garter belt and nothing more.
A month. It’s not possible.
But he had a lot to accomplish in that month. He had to take a crash course in sign language--that was task number one. He had to give her a method of communicating with him besides the pen and paper she clutched in her lap. He wanted her to be able to look at him and speak to him without fumbling for a pen.
He also had to outfit her personal dwelling rooms, explicitly described within the pages of the code. An odella--sleeping quarters--and an adjoining saray outfitted for many lustful hours of pleasure. Sofas, beds, cushions, curtains, lush and plentiful plants, and maybe a spanking bench or two. He would give her the rooms near the rooftop garden and the infinity poo
l. She would be a naked, willing captive in his tower.
So involved was he in all his excited fantasies that when the meeting came to a close, he was caught off guard. Constance was gone too soon--he only had time for a soft kiss and a quick grope beneath her skirt. Yes, stockings, garters, no panties. Sigh. One month. One month. He’d just authorized a one million dollar bank transfer. The least he was owed was a see-you-in-a-month sendoff fuck!
“The month will pass quickly,” said Bastien, watching Kai’s crestfallen gaze follow Constance’s legs from the room. “If I might have a moment to speak privately with you…”
The lawyer left, and for the first time, Kai picked up on a confrontational vibe from Bastien.
“First of all, I’d like to thank you for visiting Maison Odalisque. I’m very happy that we were able to accommodate your needs.”
“And I’d like to thank you for suggesting a swim in the grotto last night.” Kai gave him an accusing look. “You really are very good at what you do.”
Bastien chuckled. “I’ve been doing it a long time. I’ve developed a sense for good matches. I’ve developed a sense for a lot of things.” He leaned forward on his elbows, sobering. “I just want to caution you, as I caution all our candidates for ownership, that the Code d’Odalisque does not outline or delineate, in any way, a binding emotional attachment between owner and odalisque. Sometimes the newness and excitement of the relationship carries the risk of a romantic misunderstanding, from both sides. This is, in fact, something we advise you to avoid.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned this before. But as I said, I don’t have time in my life for ‘romantic misunderstandings.’ There’s no need to worry on that account.”
“Of course. I’m only telling you to be on guard. A woman who enters odalisque slavery is not, how do you say, girlfriend material. She expects--and very much needs--to be used sexually, and not led to expect relationship-type things. Your cock should remain the center of Constance’s concern from day one, and as her keeper, the burden of responsibility in this falls on you. Odalisques are naturally submissive and given to worship. Just be certain, from the start, that she is worshipping the right thing.”