by Kinkychic
Chantelle had been looking under the weather of late. Not enough so most would notice, but I did.
“I’m fine, Francine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Perhaps a little tired, but there is no need for concern.”
“Chantelle, you needn’t spare me,” I persisted. “Something is troubling you, I can see. Have you seen the physician?”
“I don’t need the pox doctor, if that’s what you mean. I told you, I’m all right.” I was surprised at the terse way she spoke. It was quite unlike her.
“Oh, you know that’s not what I mean,” I said. “I have every right to worry over you, and I am worried.”
I watched her closely over the next few days, and I saw little things I had not noticed before – the way she would clutch the bannister whenever she ascended the stairs, the occasional grimace of discomfort with no apparent cause.
At last, I had had enough. “Chantelle, I don’t care what you say, I’m going to fetch the physician. If, as you say, there is nothing wrong, then there’s no harm done. But I want to know.”
I saw the resigned look on her face. She almost looked defeated. “Very well,” she whispered.
The physician lived quite close by. I went to see him myself. Although I was worried for Chantelle, as I walked I still had the time to marvel at the difference in the streets compared to a while ago. The Americans had brought law and order. It was now possible to walk, at least in the daytime, in reasonable safety.
The physician wasn’t very long with Chantelle. He came straight to see me. “I do believe it is a good thing you called me. It is not too serious at the moment, but it very soon might have been. It would appear that Madame has a partially blocked intestine. At least I hope that’s what it is. One can never be sure with these things. I will prescribe a physic for her, and we shall see. In the meantime, she must rest. Can you see to that?”
I assured him that I could, and that I would collect the medication later that day.
Not without some difficulty, I finally persuaded Chantelle to go home. “You will stay there,” I added. “Antoinette will come to take care of you.”
The next few days were a worry. She seemed to get worse. The pain she suffered was plain to see. Then there was a turning point, and things began to improve. It appeared as though the physician had been correct in his diagnosis.
But I was shocked at her appearance. Her beautiful features were quite drawn, and she seemed badly debilitated. Antoinette told me that her weakness most likely arose from her lack of appetite and her inability to consume anything but the thinnest of soups. Our only comfort was that, despite her suffering, she seemed happier, somehow, within herself.
“I will be in to see how things are tomorrow, Francine,” Chantelle told me.
“You most certainly will not,” I said. “Things are fine. You will stay and rest. Antoinette will remain with you, I will pay her a wage to make up for what she is losing by not being at work. There is nothing for you to worry about. Our business is as it should be.”
It seemed as though she was going to argue with me, but Antoinette took her hand. “My love, please let Francine look after things, She’s doing very well in your absence.”
I was startled at Antoinette’s endearment, but then I saw the look they exchanged, and all became clear. Why had I not seen it before? It should have been obvious.
“Very well, just as long as you’re managing, Francine,” Chantelle said. “But promise you will tell me if there are any problems.”
Naturally, I assured her I would, even though I had no intention of troubling her. Not that there were any problems. Things were running smoothly.
It seemed that Chantelle and Antoinette were enjoying their time together. Clearly, they were happy. Then Antoinette came to see me. She was nervous, that was plain. I sought to calm her. “Antoinette, I know you so very well. You needn’t worry. Simply tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I want to ask something, but I don’t want to let you down. I want to leave the Palacio. I want to live with Chantelle, and I am not happy with the work anymore. She told me she didn’t mind if I kept on here, but it was plain she didn’t mean it. We want to be together. ”
I took her hands in mine. “I’m happy for you, both of you, and there’s no need to worry. I’ll find another girl.” I laughed. “Perhaps prettier than you?”
She seemed hurt, but then she saw my look and heard my laughter. “You are quite wicked I’m sure, Francine, but thank you for understanding.”
“In any case, I planned to see Chantelle this afternoon,” I said. “There are some changes I want to make, and I need her approval. Perhaps I should walk back with you now.”
I felt that the lower salon needed renovation. Perhaps it would not be so elegant as the upper salon, but it should certainly be more comfortable. The drunken brawling had come to an end – Americans preferred duelling to fistfights – and there was no need for furniture that could be replaced cheaply. I also wanted a small stage for various sorts of entertainment.
Chantelle listened to all I said. She looked over the drawings I’d made with Veronica’s help as I awaited her verdict.
“I think it’s marvellous,” she said at last. “And I have to agree, it’s overdue. But has it been costed?”
I passed her the sheet of estimates. They were quite dear, but I was confident that they would soon show a benefit and shouldn’t take too long to recoup the expense.
She pursed her lips, and I felt my heart drop. But then she smiled. “Francine,” she said, “I believe you have it just right. Yes, we shall do it. You will be in charge. Just be careful though. These rogues will try and cut corners, and then they’ll tell you the costs have gone up.”
“Not with me they won’t,” I said. “And not with Bill standing behind me.”
***
I sat in the garden, sipping my wine, marvelling at this new luxury called ice and waiting to see the girl Veronica had found to succeed Antionette. “She will surprise you, that I promise,” Veronica had said.
Old man Bill brought the girl to me. So young, so pretty. Oh my God – she was delicious. Perfect, even, at least in appearance. I experienced an old, familiar feeling, thinking of the day I had first walked into this garden for my interview with Chantelle. It now seemed so long ago.
“Come, child, sit and talk with me.” I couldn’t help it, but I had to laugh at myself. Here I was, just seventeen, and I’d called her “child”. “Now, tell me all about yourself.”
She wasn’t apprehensive in the least. Indeed, she quite over bubbled with enthusiasm. “My name is Josephine,” she said. “I’m twelve years old, which I heard is what you wanted. My sister is a friend of one of the girls who works here, and she thought I would be right for the job. I want to work for you because it’s what I want to do. And I heard the money is good.”
I held up a hand. “Wait. Why exactly is it what you want to do?”
Her grin was broad and delightful. “I love sex,” she said simply. “And I’ve been told that this is the best place to work, especially for you. I know all about you, Madame. How you taught Antoinette. Would you teach me as well?”
“But, if, as you say, you love sex, how much is there for you to learn?” I said. “In my day, we were much more innocent.”
“Well,” she said, “I’m sure there is room for improvement.”
I had to laugh again. What could I say? She looked to be so right for what I needed. Even her name met Chantelle’s standards. If anything, she was even lovelier than either Antoinette or I had been – though of course, I would have to make a more thorough inspection. But first, I asked her about her family and said I would want to meet them, to be reassured they would accept her working here.
She told me she had expected that, and I could come around whenever I pleased.
Chantelle’s old room was now mine. I let Josephine study the paintings, and I noted her expression as she stood before the most explicit of them. Her pleasure in the details was evident. When she turned to face me she looked quite flushed.
“Will you undress, Madame?” she said. “Then lie on the bed, and I will show you what I can do.”
Her flush deepened when she saw my body. She appreciated me for a moment, and then waved me to the bed. I wasn’t at all used to such a young girl telling me what to do, but I played along, intrigued by her initiative.
Her method of disrobing was almost exactly as I would have taught her. Certainly, it was more provocative than I had cause to expect. When she stood naked and posed for me, I applauded. “Who showed you that – someone, surely?”
“Oh yes. It was Emmanuele, my sister’s friend.”
I made a mental note to give Emmanuele a bonus.
“So, Josephine. Will you show me what else you have learned?”
She was exquisite. I would find it difficult to explain exactly how she was different. Perhaps it was the way she touched, or how she teased. Several times, she brought me close to my peak, but then she backed off, plying me with a few light touches as I calmed down. Sex with a woman was nothing new to this girl, that much was plain. I wondered who had been fortunate enough to enjoy her first.
I also noticed that she had played with her own pussy throughout our session. And so, when she sat on me, and her treasure came down on my mouth, she was as ready for release as I was. She had timed it to perfection.
My tongue went straight for her clitty, and my fingers ploughed up into her vagina. I felt her lips and tongue on me. Her delightful aroma filled my senses as her juices flowed over my face.
Then, suddenly, she pressed down hard, forcing herself against me. My hips rose, and we both began to shake. The orgasm wracked my body, wonderfully intense, and it seemed to last forever.
When she turned about and lay next to me, I could only smile. “Don’t even ask. You start tomorrow,” I said. “I may have the perfect lady for you. She likes a firm hand, and I think you might be just the one to give it to her.”
“I’ll try, Madame.”
“You won’t try. You’ll succeed. Can you handle a whip?”
“Oh!” she said. “Shall we be going riding?”
“I see I do have some things to teach you after all.”
***
Chantelle made her first visit for several months, chatting with Bill and several of the girls before following me to the office. She riffled through the account books, not really seeming to absorb them in any detail. All she looked at was the bottom line.
She seemed to be her old self again, and if her vitality was not yet what it was, it soon would be. She looked better, but moreover, she looked content.
“Well, Francine, I must say that I’ve enjoyed my forced holiday. And you’ve done well on your own. The upward trend in our profits has continued. Your new salon is a success. I can see that my faith in you was well placed.” She took my hand in hers. “I’m proud of you.”
She looked at me, perhaps seeking a reaction. I suppose that I must have looked both pleased and relieved.
“I have decided to retire properly,” she said. “Would you like to take over the Palacio, become the Madame, working partly for me and partly for yourself? I would like to offer you an equal share of the business, perhaps fifty-one percent in your favour, so you may do as you please.”
She had astonished me once again, just as she had done the year before. “I would love to, Chantelle, but I don’t have the money to buy half of the Palacio.”
“Oh, but you do, at the price I’m offering it to you for. I already have more money than I will ever need, and I will still get a share of the profits.”
It was true. I could easily afford the figure she put forward. “But Chantelle, why? It’s a fraction of what the business is worth.”
“You have been the daughter I never had, or ever will have. I want to see your future secured and to know the Palacio is in good hands. It is my bequest to you.”
***
I took my coffee to the upper balcony, just as Chantelle had always done. I felt like a queen surveying her domain.
I thought of Veronica and how happy we were together, how we loved each other. I would ask her whether she would like to stop work. Her mother had remarried and was content with her life. The man ran a small business supplying ships with produce. He was by no means wealthy, though he did own his own house. I had already insisted that my mother leave as well. She had also met a man, a kind and thoughtful sort who knew her past and did not judge it. He treated her well, and I liked him. I hoped they would marry.
Over the next year, I would introduce a cabaret style of entertainment and add gaming tables. Although the bordello would continue, I wanted it to occupy a less prominent position. The time was coming – it might be soon or it might not be for years – when a more respectable façade would be needed, and I wanted to be ahead of the game.
My only concern was that Bill was getting too old to continue in what could at times be a dangerous job. I didn’t want to lose him. Perhaps I could find him a tough assistant. Most likely, he would know someone himself. Yes, I would ask him.
Down in the street, I saw Veronica walking toward the Palacio. She looked up and waved to me. I waved back and beckoned for her to come up. I’d suddenly thought of having a stable built. We would have horses, and go for long jaunts together. I was eager to tell her, for I knew how she loved horses.
Life was good, so very good.
The End