I approached the Chateaux with mixed feelings. I knew my father was inside. After so many years apart, I wanted to see him, but I was also scared. The chauffeur-driven car he had sent for me approached the front of the building and I felt dizzy, light-headed, maybe even a little excited. I gripped the leather hand-rest and thought back to my mother's words of warning, words she had told me so many times as I changed from a little girl into the eager twenty year old woman I was now.
"Your father is a handsome and clever man." she said, "He is also dangerous. He is a good psychologist and expert of the mind but he has a side to him that wishes to ... dominate."
"Dominate what?"
"Me. Us. Women. He tries to use his powers to take control of our minds and make us do the things that he wants."
"What does he want?"
Mother's face hardened but there was a sad look to her eyes.
"He has tried this with you, mother?"
"I was smart. I studied his techniques in secret. I was able to resist him. But it only angered him. This is why he left us, darling. He left us and went to Europe because I refused him."
I had never seen my mother like his before and it disturbed me.
"It is not your fault."
I reached for her hand but she refused to take mine.
"This is not about me. It is about you. I am telling you to forget your father. It is like he never existed. Otherwise you will wonder and he may take advantage of that."
"What ... things ... did he want from you?"
Mother sighed, slowly, as if she was finally letting out a painful truth about herself.
"He wanted me to degrade myself completely. To give myself up to him -- not just in body but ... well ... he wanted to destroy my mind. He wanted to take me over and use me for his pleasure alone."
When she said this I was surprised to find that my body jolted as a tongue of excitement uncoiled from my pussy to my breasts. Was it even possible to be excited by the thought of being taken over in this way? How could that be?
Mother spoke sharply.
"Look at me Bella. You need to be your own woman, free, smart and independent. Focus on your studies. Learn, do well and forget your father"
***
I do not know how he found me, but last week I received an email from my father's personal assistant on my college account. It described the location of his Chateaux in France and came complete with a coupon for a return flight ticket attached. He urged me to come and see him. My first instinct was to wait. I needed the time, both to think and to prepare my studies. I was training to be a mathematician and was considered the brightest girl in my year. I had a lot to do and exams coming up. For some reason, I never told mother about it.
Soon another email came and then a third. The former had a picture of the Chateaux attached. The building sat on a hill near a river. It looked serene in the French air. Gazing at it filled me with peace. The third email had a picture of my father when he was younger. He had a serious look about him, soft eyes and swept back hair. I laid a finger on his mouth and my mind was suddenly filled with curiosity about him. Perhaps I could do with a break from my studies. It was probable, after all, that my mother had exaggerated his bad qualities to me. The man in the photo looked endearing and harmless. The tip of my finger felt warm. I felt something else too. A kind of sweet excitement, deep within me. A sense of the delights of surrender. Whatever this feeling was, I knew at least that it was mine and that I could only discover more by exploring things further by myself.
Early yesterday, and despite myself, I found myself slipping out of the front door into the morning darkness and a low rumbling taxi. It felt like I was being taken on a trajectory that was not of my own making. I constantly questioned if I should be doing this, even as I was welcomed aboard the plane and took my seat. I told myself that I was to remember always that this was my idea and that I was in control. I needed to learn more about my feelings. I was simply going to question my father and get some answers. Then I could return to my mother, my home and my mathematical studies. I opened my laptop and started editing my thesis. The time passed quickly to landing and now I was here, approaching the Chateaux.
I walked up a set of honey-colored stairs and pulled a rusty chain by the stout entrance. There was a deep chiming from within the house. Soon after the door was opened by what I took to be one of the maids. She was dressed in a tight black uniform covered by a lace apron. He skirt was quite short and her stockinged legs shapely. Her face was petite and very beautiful with large brown eyes and long lashes. She wore an expression that I could not place -- a slight smile, maybe knowing, maybe even slightly lascivious. For a moment I was unsure of myself. I had never thought about women in a sexual way before. I swallowed the thought down and extended a hand.
'Anna Bella LaRange'
'Pleased to meet you Bella. I am Greet, your father's personal assistant. May I say that you look as a lovely in life as in he has described you to me.'
Something in Greet's voice made me dizzy. I reminded myself again that I was supposed to be in control.
'I am just here to ask my father some questions. I do not have long. Is he available?'
'Of course. Do come in.'
The Chateaux entrance was enormous and covered with baroque moldings, painted angels and sparkling floor tiles. I saw myself and Greet reflected a hundred times in crystal mirrors. Greet's heels tacked and echoed as we walked. I was filled with a sense of wonder and contentment. I knew it had been the right decision to come. I knew I was in control. Everything felt so wonderful and I was happy. Greet showed me into a chamber that looked out onto the back garden through huge bay windows filled with roses. The floor was softly carpeted. I sank into one of the waiting chairs and lightly dropped my bag and laptop to one side. Greet offered to get me a coffee and told me my father would be with me shortly.
After ten minutes of waiting, I got bored and walked around my new surroundings in a slow circle, humming to myself and running my fingers long the spines of the many books that lined the shelves. I stopped and picked one book at random and was surprised to find that it had no title, just a number:114. Inside it was filled with pictures of young girls being used by older men. I was shocked but enthralled and I turned the pages slowly. In one, a girl was pinned down against a sofa, her arms held behind her back while a man entered her from behind and slapped her hard, on the ass. In another, two girls kneeled and looked up adoringly as a man came copiously over their faces. I gazed at them, the imploring look in their eyes, the cum running down their cheeks and dripping onto their swelling breasts. A heat spread through me. My free hand moved, seemingly of its own accord, to the rim of my summer dress. A finger slipped under. A thousand soft voices seemed to whisper in my ear, telling me 'yes... do it'.
Perhaps it was the sound of a door slamming somewhere deep in the building or maybe it was just the silence but something jolted me back to the reality of that strange room. I imagined I could hear my mother's voice pleading with me through soft clouds. Something was badly wrong. 'Leave here now.' I told myself. 'I am in danger of losing everything'. I dropped the book. How could I have come here and let myself be swayed by such crude and disgusting images? How perverse of me to think that I would actually want anything from this.
I ran to the chair and grabbed for my bag as behind me, the door opened and suddenly my father was there in the room. He was older than in his photograph and touched with grey hairs. He smiled at me but his eyes were harsh and cold. He was dressed in a tailored suit and smelled of cologne, whiskey and cigars. I knew, seeing him there, that I had made a bad mistake. Worse, I could see, he knew it too.
'I'm sorry, I have to go.', I said. I clutched my laptop to my chest like a broken toy. My voice was tiny and cracked.
My father turned and closed the door, blocking my exit. Then he stared right at me and said,
'Oh, I think it is too late for that, don't you?'
I remember the fear, descending on me and running through me like cold water. I remember assessing how easy it might be to push past the man, open the door and run. My legs went from under me and I collapsed to the floor and put my arms over my head and whimpered...
'Please, don't ... please...'
My father laughed and said,
'Oh, but I am going to and you are going to thank me for it.'
And then, suddenly I remember the strange sense in my mind, like a push into my thoughts, and suddenly I was relaxed and calm. I lifted my arms from my head and looked up at my father's face. My previous fear seemed distant, silly even. He looked so lovely and tender and I felt safe. My father continued to gaze lovingly into my eyes. His face seemed softer now, and his hands too, as he gestured at the easy chair in the center of the room, the one I had been sitting in.
'Why don't you sit?' he asked, and it suddenly seemed like the most natural thing to do, so I sat in the chair and crossed my legs. I was wearing a simple summer dress, patterned with flowers. It felt soft against my skin. My father took a chair and moved it directly in front of mine, about a meter away, and sat with his chin resting on his hands, smiling at me -- almost leering in a way, but I didn't mind.
