Jon Reskind - The unholy Master

"If we were in Paris, M'sieu' Arden, with the facilities of my clinic, I would certainly be more definitive," Leduc was saying, interrupting his thoughts. "However, we must do with what we have at hand. This morning I administered a tranquilizer I often use in these cases, which seemed to have a satisfactory affect. I would suggest that she see me daily throughout the voyage for a booster… else we might see a recurrence of these emotional seizures…"

"Emotional seizures? These cases…?" Paul reiterated, his phrases piqued with an anxiety of his own. "I don't know what you're talking about, Doctor."

Leduc studied him. "I see," he said finally. "Undoubtedly, M'sieu' Arden, you are truly unaware of these seizures… or perhaps it is simply that you do not recognize them for what they are. I feel safe in saying that regardless of what manner of love-making you had employed last night that you would have brought about the same reactions in the Madame. Your wife, M'sieu', is suffering from a form of Dementia praecox."

"Dementia prae… prae… What the hell is that in English?" Paul blurted.

"Schizophrenia… in English, M'sieu'," Leduc replied, never losing his professional composure. "And from what I have seen so far, quite curable with proper treatment."

Paul sighed heavily. "Well… thank God for that anyway," he said, draining his glass in one nervous gulp and motioning the barman for another round. He commenced shaking his head. "I… I had no idea."

"I understand, but let us not get alarmed, M'sieu' Arden… and let us not in any case mention to the Madame what we fear. It could only serve to worsen her condition, and as I've said, with proper treatment I am sure she will come about nicely."

"Yes… yes, of course, Doctor," Paul agreed. "I'll see that she stops by your office daily… in fact, I'll bring her by…"

Leduc raised his hand. "No. I would caution you not to do that, M'sieu'. Let her act through her own initiative. The thought of forced treatment often does more harm than good with the schizophrenic."

"All right," agreed Paul once more. "Whatever you say, Doctor Leduc. I have to place her in your hands now."

Briefly, the doctor's eyes narrowed but Paul Arden did not see this. Both men raised their drinks and sipped. A hollow empty gnawing at his entrails had begun in Paul's abdomen. He still could not comprehend the blow. Finally, Leduc said, "Just one more word, M'sieu'… if I may… should the Madame be willing to copulate, then by all means accommodate her, but should she not, I suggest you be… shall we say… understanding?"

Paul felt his face redden. "Naturally," he snapped, as the French physician slipped from his stool.

Leduc smiled and bowed curtly. "Bonjour, M'sieu'."

Paul gave him a short nod. "Bonjour," he bade, turning back to the barman and ordering another. He sat contemplatively, his brow knitted in worried thought. So, now he realized the source of her elation when she had returned to the stateroom after consulting Leduc. The good doctor had plied her with some sort of tranquilizer. Split personality! Dear God, he'd had no idea, but now that he thought back on different things it all seemed to make sense. And to think of the way he had forced himself upon her last night… Rape! Pure rape! Nothing else… Good Lord, he ought to be horse-whipped!

Except for the soreness between her legs and of her breasts, Janet felt in the finest of spirits. She had in her heart, although she had said nothing to him yet, forgiven Paul entirely for last night. The day had been a beautiful one and her darling had leaped at her slightest caprice. And dinner had been so romantic with his holding her hand at every opportunity, dancing so gallantly when she knew how he despised it, walking in the moonlight and stopping to kiss her in the same manner he had when she used to fly down to Princeton to visit him on the weekends.

She thought of these things as she prepared to go to him and give herself as she had not done last night. She thought of Doctor Leduc and the genteel, professional manner in which he had soothed her jangled nerves. She had damn sure been on the verge of doing something drastic… her whole world had been so shattered. But now, all seemed well once more… yet, she could remember very little of what had taken place in his quarters after he had given her the tranquilizer shot… with the exception of the wild, hallucinatory dreams… and those she had not mentioned even to the Doctor.

She blushed a bright crimson as the vague, lewd visions again brushed through her mind and little butterfly-like sensations flitted about in her tummy. The amazing, shameful part of them was that her partner in these sexual fantasies had been the noble doctor himself. Dear God, how debased can one get… even in thought? Still, as guilty and disgusted as she felt with herself, she realized the libidinous affect those dreams were having upon her and how her darling Paul was about to profit from them.

She smiled at her naked self in the dressing-room mirror as she thought of Paul lying in the bed out there, waiting anxiously for her to make her appearance. Sweet, sweet darling, he was so sorry for last night, and now she was about to make him the happiest husband alive. She would not only forgive him, but she would make love to him as he had never dreamed it possible for her to do. She trembled at the very thought and hurriedly slipped on the sheer black, hip-length nightie, then with one last look at herself, opened the door and stepped out.

Paul raised slowly to an elbow and gaped in utter fascination at the breathtaking sight. It was a replica of the vision he had beheld the previous night, an erotic spectacle that was about to have the same effect upon him, and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands in an effort toward controlling himself. Leduc's words rushed through his mind. He swallowed tightly and said, "C-Come here."

She smiled, turning slowly to extinguish the light in the dressing-room, luxuriating in the knowledge of how beautiful she was to him this night, almost feeling the heat of his eyes on the curved length of her legs. She stretched to reach the small wall switch, knowing that it made her diaphanous nightie creep even further up her thighs, then, tantalizingly, she had moved toward him to ease down onto the bed beside him.

Paul reached for her wordlessly, his hand slipping gently beneath her golden tresses behind her head drawing her to him, their lips momentarily apart… reaching out but not quite touching. He drew her closer, grasping her lower lip between his teeth tenderly, pulling the moist, soft flesh into him… his teeth slipping off, and his lips enfolding her as he sucked her lips into his mouth.

Janet felt a tingling shock run icily into her mouth. Her darting tongue wedged beyond his lips, back inside over the roof and across the front of his teeth, caressing the soft underside of his upper lip.

Paul leaned forward, his momentum carrying them both back onto the pillow, and he crushed his mouth hard against hers, thrusting his tongue deep into the yearning heat beyond her lips. Her arms reached to encircle his neck but he held them apart, spreading them wide as he pressed her back into the softness of the pillow. He raised himself to one knee and rolled, half sitting, to her side. She lay back against the pillow obediently, her arms wide and her legs slightly spread… lashes shadowing her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

"Oh, my darling," she whispered softly. "I'm sorry… so sorry about last night… Please, be gentle with me…"

"Yes… yes," he managed huskily, running his hand over the awakening mounds of her breasts and down over her belly to the soft, fleshy folds of her cunt below.

Janet moaned, her body coming immediately alive to the caresses of his magic hands now stroking her flesh into a lamina of hot desire. Tiny goose-bumps sprang out over the creamy whiteness of her satin-like skin. God, how she wanted him! Her body cried out to be loved tenderly and with understanding… as he was now doing. She pressed the horrible memory of his assault on her last night out of her mind, wanting nothing more than to make up for all the times she had denied him and her own self the pleasure of merging their bodies as one. She wanted him to crawl up inside her, to possess her completely and quell the raging torrents that were building up in the very depths of her from his maddening fingertips playing over her defenseless nakedness.