Author's Note: I was originally planning to make this a series, but every time I went back to read the original piece, I just felt like it stood well enough on its own, and I didn't want to mess with it. Still, ideas kept popping into my head and before I knew it, I just had to get it out. So, this is part two, and there will definitely be a part three - but I haven't started it yet, so it might be a little while, because I like it to sound just right. This isn't perfect, but it's close enough for now. Thanks for your patience :)
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It was the second day of the new year, and in her apartment in the city, one young soprano was curled up under her thick covers, watching the clouds scudding by and thinking of a man. A certain tall, slender man with a commanding manner - and other talents - the symphony's conductor, Sebastien Boulet. She had not seen him for three weeks, and yet the feel of his hands on her hips, the sharp stinging of his baton against her bare bottom had plagued her every thought. Her womanly pride was a bit wounded that she could allow a man to treat her in such a way. Still, she had never felt so alive. Not with any other man, and certainly not with her boyfriend of three months, Todd. He was sweet in his way, but not sensual, not oozing with raw sexuality, and power, and... oh! She had to get a grip on herself.
Claire rolled over, pulling the covers together around herself. When Sebastien had last left her, he had thrown out the very tantalizing offer of private instruction. She had not had the courage to take him up on the offer yet, but her patience was wearing thin (and her vibrator was wearing out!). She glanced at the phone on her bedside table, the small, heavily creased slip of paper beside it. Without another thought, she grabbed the phone and dialed the number.
It rang twice, and then there was a short silence before a thickly accented voice came onto the line.
"Allo. Qui est à l'appareil?"
"Ahhh hmmm," Claire breathed out in barely a whisper. "C'est la soprano." When silence followed, she followed up with, "de la symphonie." More silence. "Je suis désolé de vous déranger à la maison, Maestro," tumbled out of her mouth, hoping her grammar wasn't too laughable. The silence this time was so long that she wondered whether she had gotten a wrong number or the line had disconnected. She was beginning to feel silly holding the receiver, when the voice spoke again, crisply.
"Mon abeille. C'est toi?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"I did not know that you spoke French."
"A little."
"Interesting. May I ask why you are calling?"
"The last time we saw each other, you mentioned private instruction."
"So I did."
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble..." she trailed off.
"I will send a car for you. Tomorrow, at noon," he said, followed by the click of the receiver.
Claire twisted her fingers together, already feeling nervous. She did not stop to wonder how Sebastien knew where to send the car.
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She was up early the next day, fretting about her outfit, her hair, whether she would be able to tell which car was the one Sebastien had sent. Standing in front of her closet doors, she finally chose a long-sleeved dark green dress. She slipped it on over her naked skin - why bother with underwear, considering the circumstances? She let her thick, reddish-brown hair out of its braid and finger-combed it to let waves of it fall halfway down her back, and pronounced herself ready to go. Ten minutes early, she was standing on the sidewalk outside her apartment building. A shiny, black town car was already parked at the curb.
As she watched it, a man of medium height and complexion in a dark suit got out of the driver's seat and wordlessly held open the back door for her. In the backseat there was an envelope that contained a slip of black silk and a note. The note was written in a thin, slanted scrawl and said only "Blindfold yourself." Frowning slightly, Claire glanced up at the rearview mirror, where she could see the dispassionate face of her driver. It was embarrassing to be involving this man in something so private, but what else could she do? Sebastien would certainly know if she didn't obey, and he had been quite clear that she should do as he said.
She tied the black cloth around her eyes. Almost immediately, the car drove away from the curb. At first, she could determine where they were from the turns they took. Soon, however, she lost the position of the car, and then stopped thinking about it entirely. After what she assumed was about twenty minutes, she felt the car driving downward, and then stopping. A door opened. People were talking softly somewhere. Another door opened. Gentle hands guided her out of the car, and then jerked her arms firmly behind her back, tying them there.
She cried out softly, in surprise, and felt fingertips brush her cheek. A familiar cologne tantalized her, and her knees suddenly felt weak. Strong arms caught her, and pulled her upright. Was it Sebastien? Or had he sent his scent along with his emissary? It didn't feel safe to speak.
Whoever it was pushed Claire ahead until they had passed through a doorway. Her boots clicked on tile now instead of cement, and she supposed they had been in an underground parking garage, and were now in a building. They stopped. After a moment, Claire shuffled her feet slightly. What if someone saw them? What would they think about a girl blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back? She shuddered to think. Then she felt someone bend down, putting their lips very near her ear.
"I will remove your bonds, as well as your clothing, for the remainder of this journey." Ahh, it was the Maestro. For a moment, she relaxed, but then her mind began to race. Were they alone ? Did he own this entire building, whatever it was? When he nudged the blindfold down with his finger, she saw that they were in a sort of hallway, furnished with cream tiles and warm, glowing lights. Straight ahead was an elevator - a fancy one, with carved doors - and she could hear the dull hum of street traffic somewhere to her left. Someone entered from that direction, pushed the button for the elevator, and was admitted immediately. They pushed a button, and the doors closed on them - they had not appeared to notice Claire and Sebastien at all, but Claire was not much appeased by this.
