Read Online Return to the Chateau by Pauline Réage - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Pauline Réage
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kissed O, and taking her around the waist led her back over to the men with whom she had been sitting.
“I’d like you to meet O,” she said. “Do you mind if she joins us? You won’t find anyone any better.”
So saying, she kissed the tip of one of O’s breasts through the black lacework covering it.
“They won’t tell me their names,” she said. “But they look nice, don’t they?”
Nice was hardly the term, thought O. In fact it was absurd as applied to them. They looked both embarrassed and vulgar, and their third drink had failed to provide them with any degree of self-assurance. As O reached for her drink on the bar, her arm grazed the knee of the man on her right. He put his hand on her arching bracelet and asked why they all wore iron bracelets.
“As if they didn’t know!” Yvonne exclaimed. “Never mind, we’ll explain it to them during dinner. Come on, let’s sit down.”
Then, glancing at the man who had asked the question about the bracelets, who was getting down off his barstool, Yvonne said to O, as she herself made a point of doing the same to the other man:
“Quickly, O, touch him with your hand. Then let him try and tell you he doesn’t like you.”
In the restaurant, they took a table for four. The three men who had earlier taken Noelle in the library were dining together at a neighboring table. As for Noelle, she had left the bar five minutes after O had joined Yvonne, going out the door that led to the bedrooms, followed by a rather corpulent, Middle-Eastern looking type.
=46rank came into the restaurant just as they were finishing dinner. Neither O nor Yvonne had ordered an after-dinner drink, but they were waiting patiently for the men to finish their cognac. Frank made a discreet sign to O, then went over and sat down by himself at a table by the window. But O, who was seated in such a way that she had a good view of him, from a slight angle, noticed that as soon as the girl who was scheduled to wait on him approached his table he had slipped his hand into the slit in her skirt. In the restaurant or bar, this was the only liberty allowed, and even then on condition it was done discreetly.
=46inally, the time came when Yvonne said:
“Shall we go upstairs?”
One of the hotel waiters showed them to two adjoining, but noncommunicating, rooms; he indicated where the telephone was, the bell for service, then shut the door behind him as he left.
O, without even being asked, removed her mantilla and went over to her customer to offer him her breasts. He was seated on a chair. The three-sided mirror which graced one of the walls of every room reflected him, and O, standing between his legs and leaning over in order to make it easier for him, was nonetheless slightly astonished to find how natural it was for her to offer her breasts to this unknown man. Since that morning, four different men had, as Anne-Marie put it, entered her body: Sir Stephen, the driver, Frank, and Jos=E9. This man would be the fifth, which would bring her even with Monique. But this one would pay her. He told her to get undressed, and when he saw her encorseted, he stopped her. Her irons (about which Yvonne had not said a word, whereas she had offered, gratuitously, long after either of the men had thought of querying her further about the wrist bracelets: “Our bracelets are so that we can be tied up whenever anyone wants to whip us”) made a profound impression on him, as did the double opening which was offered to him when he held her by her hams sprawled back on the edge of the bed. No sooner had he emerged from her than he said:
“If you’re really good, I’ll give you a fat tip.”
She got down on her knees.
He left before she was dressed, leaving a handful of banknotes on the mantel of the fireplace: about a third as much as O earned in a month in the photo studio on the rue Royale. She washed herself, put on her dress, and went back downstairs, after having neatly folded the banknotes and
“I’d like you to meet O,” she said. “Do you mind if she joins us? You won’t find anyone any better.”
So saying, she kissed the tip of one of O’s breasts through the black lacework covering it.
“They won’t tell me their names,” she said. “But they look nice, don’t they?”
Nice was hardly the term, thought O. In fact it was absurd as applied to them. They looked both embarrassed and vulgar, and their third drink had failed to provide them with any degree of self-assurance. As O reached for her drink on the bar, her arm grazed the knee of the man on her right. He put his hand on her arching bracelet and asked why they all wore iron bracelets.
“As if they didn’t know!” Yvonne exclaimed. “Never mind, we’ll explain it to them during dinner. Come on, let’s sit down.”
Then, glancing at the man who had asked the question about the bracelets, who was getting down off his barstool, Yvonne said to O, as she herself made a point of doing the same to the other man:
“Quickly, O, touch him with your hand. Then let him try and tell you he doesn’t like you.”
In the restaurant, they took a table for four. The three men who had earlier taken Noelle in the library were dining together at a neighboring table. As for Noelle, she had left the bar five minutes after O had joined Yvonne, going out the door that led to the bedrooms, followed by a rather corpulent, Middle-Eastern looking type.
=46rank came into the restaurant just as they were finishing dinner. Neither O nor Yvonne had ordered an after-dinner drink, but they were waiting patiently for the men to finish their cognac. Frank made a discreet sign to O, then went over and sat down by himself at a table by the window. But O, who was seated in such a way that she had a good view of him, from a slight angle, noticed that as soon as the girl who was scheduled to wait on him approached his table he had slipped his hand into the slit in her skirt. In the restaurant or bar, this was the only liberty allowed, and even then on condition it was done discreetly.
=46inally, the time came when Yvonne said:
“Shall we go upstairs?”
One of the hotel waiters showed them to two adjoining, but noncommunicating, rooms; he indicated where the telephone was, the bell for service, then shut the door behind him as he left.
O, without even being asked, removed her mantilla and went over to her customer to offer him her breasts. He was seated on a chair. The three-sided mirror which graced one of the walls of every room reflected him, and O, standing between his legs and leaning over in order to make it easier for him, was nonetheless slightly astonished to find how natural it was for her to offer her breasts to this unknown man. Since that morning, four different men had, as Anne-Marie put it, entered her body: Sir Stephen, the driver, Frank, and Jos=E9. This man would be the fifth, which would bring her even with Monique. But this one would pay her. He told her to get undressed, and when he saw her encorseted, he stopped her. Her irons (about which Yvonne had not said a word, whereas she had offered, gratuitously, long after either of the men had thought of querying her further about the wrist bracelets: “Our bracelets are so that we can be tied up whenever anyone wants to whip us”) made a profound impression on him, as did the double opening which was offered to him when he held her by her hams sprawled back on the edge of the bed. No sooner had he emerged from her than he said:
“If you’re really good, I’ll give you a fat tip.”
She got down on her knees.
He left before she was dressed, leaving a handful of banknotes on the mantel of the fireplace: about a third as much as O earned in a month in the photo studio on the rue Royale. She washed herself, put on her dress, and went back downstairs, after having neatly folded the banknotes and
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