Бруно Травен - Aslan Norval

Aslan smiled with some melancholy. “Maybe I really deserved the ‘spanking,’ as you call it, Lita. In any case, I am his wife, and as his wife I have to respect and obey him.”

“Whether you deserved a spanking or not, I cannot say, señora. As my mother always said, ‘Never get involved in family affairs if you want to live in peace.’ And therefore, I never get involved in family affairs and live peacefully.”

Lita was holding out the evening gown for Aslan to slide it over her head when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” called Aslan.

“Beg your pardon, dear, I didn’t know that you were not dressed yet,” said Holved. “And now you don’t need to anymore. Elmer Tuckers just called and canceled the night shift for today.”

“And why?”

“First, he told me that his car was not running, and he wanted to postpone till tomorrow. But then he confessed that they had run into a couple from home and had gone to a bar to drink to their meeting. They toasted so much that his always-faithful wife is a little drunk now. She downed more than she can handle and if we took her out to drink, we would be fishing her out from under the table, as Elmer Tuckers said so sweetly.”

Aslan wrapped herself in her bathrobe. “You know, Holved, life is funny sometimes. I owe the fact that I am not forced to move from one hard chair to another during our bar crawl tonight to the fact that Mrs. Elmer Tuckers can only handle a limited number of strong cocktails. I think I would do better lying on my belly in my soft bed.”

She looked at him with an innocent expression.

“What did you just say, Holved?”

“Me? I didn’t say anything.”

She looked at him playfully. “And I thought you had said something or were just getting ready to say something.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he answered blankly, looking from Aslan to Lita and back to Aslan.

“I—I—yes, I will still read a little. A murder mystery, you know.” With those words he reached for the doorknob.

“Lita,” said Aslan, “hang up my evening gown in the closet again. Maybe you can choose another dress tomorrow by singing for me.”

Lita picked up the dress. Aslan playfully snatched her garters, which were holding up the nylon stockings.

Indecisive and feeling superfluous, Holved was just about to open the door when he happened to glance at Lita, who was trying to hang up the dress in the closet. He could only see her back and her long black hair, which was hanging down one side of her neck. His glance enveloped her youthful hips, and when she bent over to put the dress carefully back where it had been, the soft, well-shaped curves of her bottom swelled lavishly toward him.

With a thoughtful expression, Aslan began taking out her earrings.

Lita was still bending over to organize the dresses properly inside the closet. Holved’s eyes ran up and down Lita’s shapely legs and again finally landed on the inviting curves of her bottom.

When she had organized the dresses in the closet, Lita turned around and whether intentional or not, caught Holved’s glance. Half dreaming, half fascinated, Holved assessed her body as if he were undressing her. For a few seconds they were lost in each other’s eyes. A little confused, Lita then hurried toward Aslan.

Aslan looked up. “What is going on with you, Lita, you are shaking.”

“Nada, señora, nada, nothing—I—I hit my hand against a sharp hook. It hurts a little.”

She shook her hand and blew on her fingers.

Aslan turned toward Holved, who was still standing by the door in silence. She intended to ask him whether Elmer Tuckers had said when they were going to do the bar crawl, the next day or the day after that.

Since she could not catch his eye, she followed his glance and found his eyes stuck on Lita. He was following the snakelike coils and movements of her body as she kept conspicuously busy rushing around Aslan, nervously helping her take off the few pieces of clothing she was wearing. Aslan looked swiftly from Lita to Holved and back. Keeping him in view she casually said in an innocent tone: “You know, Holved, since the evening has been ruined, I am going to bed. Of course, tonight I will have to sleep on my stomach.” A few seconds later she added: “Did you say anything, Holved?”

“Me? No. Not a single word. Why?”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to say something.”

He pretended to yawn—as he thought convincingly—holding his hand in front of his open mouth.

“So, good night, dear!” He came to her and kissed her.

She returned his kiss, pulling him close and throwing her arms around his neck. As soon as Holved had left the boudoir, Lita said unexpectedly: “I think, señora, you should be truly and seriously happy in your marriage, even if you get a spanking every once in a while.”

“Why do you think I should be happy in my marriage?”

“ Bueno , señora, su viejo . When I look at your old man from the side and see how he devours you with his eyes I could swear that he knows how to fulfill his husbandly duty!”

“Now listen to this,” exclaimed Aslan, surprised. “It seems you have studied my husband carefully. Too carefully, I might say. Come here and look at my face, Lita!”

Lita came closer and blushed under Aslan’s intense scrutiny.

“How old did you say you were, Lita?”

“Twenty years old, señora. Should I help you take off the nylon stockings?”

Without waiting for the answer, Lita sank to the floor in front of Aslan and began to take off the stockings carefully. She did not look up while doing this but kept her eyes on Aslan’s legs. Aslan looked Lita over, assessing her body, and bit her lips roughly. Lita smoothed the stockings almost lovingly and placed them back in the drawer.

She came back to Aslan and stood in front of her to see whether she needed anything else. Aslan pushed her bare feet into the slippers. She observed the playful movements of her feet as she was lifting and dropping them back to the ground. It’s strange, Aslan said to herself, I only need to think about moving my feet and they do it independently. Suddenly, she looked at Lita, observing her face silently.

For the moment, there was nothing else to do. Aslan was by now completely undressed. She was only wearing her bathrobe, which was draped over her shoulders. Lita knelt in front of her on the carpet, as she loved to do so often in the evenings when Aslan was in the mood to gossip. Aslan stretched her naked legs, wriggled her feet, and the slippers fell to the floor. Lita picked them up and put them back on Aslan’s feet.

“You know, Lita,” she said, squinting at the girl, “you know, when I look at you, as you are kneeling in front of me, and when I think about what you said a little while ago, I am convinced that you are mature enough at twenty to know that if you get too close to fire you can get burned badly. Even if it is nothing more than”—she stopped for a couple of seconds and then continued—“yes, as I said, even if it is nothing more than that he is fulfilling his duty.” She repeated, emphasizing the word “his”: “Yes, fulfilling his duty.”

As she finished saying this, she forcefully slapped Lita’s face.

“Why, señora? Why? I really don’t understand what you are talking about or what you are implying. If you seriously think that I did something wrong, then beat me up with this slipper. But I have done nothing wrong, or I would confess immediately.”

“It depends, Lita, on what you consider ‘doing something wrong’ or—as—as the desire to please someone.”

Lita felt that she was blushing bright red again, and not only on the cheek where she had been slapped. To hide it, she jumped up from the floor, and standing behind Aslan she said: “Señora, here are your pajamas. I will help you put them on.”