A Castle of Sand
Chapter 17 (Baby) Can I Change My Mind
“…as I took those steps, toward that open door, knowing all the time, oh Lord, I just didn’t wanna go…”
Gerry and Christine were together in the bathroom, brushing their teeth. Christine of course was naked, her negligee hanging on the back of the door, and she was on her knees.
When they had rinsed, Gerry placed Christine on the toilet, opening her legs, then dropping her own pyjama bottoms as she straddled the seat. Squatting, she aimed her stream of urine directly onto Christine’s shaved labia, with Christine closing her eyes and enjoying the warm sensation, spreading her legs as wide as she could.
When she was finished, Gerry straightened up saying, “Wipe me, Slave-girl.”
Christine blushed slightly (although considering all she had done in the last month, this was not excessive) and she carefully wiped the outer and inner labia of her ‘Miss’, smiling up at her when she finished.
“Okay,” Gerry said, looking down. “Now lick me, make sure I’m clean, and keep looking at me as you do this.”
Christine did as commanded, tasting a little acrid urine but aroused still by her ‘service’. When Gerry was satisfied, she murmured, “That’s a good Slave-girl, what do you say?”
Christine looked up into Gerry’s face, a shy smile on hers, “Thank you, Miss Gerry….”
Gerry chuckled. “I think I’ve got you figured, Miss Chris. You’re a beautiful and innocent farm girl on the outside, and a raging street whore on the inside, one who likes being naughty and obedient, hmmmmm,” Gerry smirked and Christine snickered, thinking that could mostly be true. “But you know what, sweet bitch?”
“What?” Christine asked quietly, her legs still spread.
“Now you need to rinse your mouth again.”
They both snickered.
* * * *
Thursday, and Christine was trying hard not to think about the evening, but it was challenging as they were not onto any new projects, still doing odd (and boring) tasks given to them by Gibbons.
At least this morning after bathroom chores, she’d had some fun with ‘Miss Gerry’, who had spanked her and then ‘gone down’ on her, producing a small but pleasant moment, its memory still lingering.
* * * *
With only a few days until the shipment arrived, Bob Fuller was making sure he was ready, without arousing any suspicion. He was quietly organizing the work details so the men he would call out were ones he knew, inside and out. Ones that would simply accept his orders with no questions asked.
* * * *
Anne sat on a bench, in a different park today, having her usual cigarette. She had left a note alerting her superiors that a week from today the Mays would be hosting a dinner at their home for the general and a small group; eight or so. Like-Hot-Cakes Catering would be on site, so Anne would be there.
She felt odd today, sitting by herself; she was thinking about Laverne, and that bothered her. Don’t grow attached, was a cardinal rule in her line of work.
Sometimes things are easier said than done.
* * * *
“So,” Lana said, sitting down beside Christine, “thought any more about what I said.”
Christine looked up into that mesmerizing face, thinking it should be so easy to lie in order to have this woman approve; but lying was one thing she couldn’t do. “Oh, only like every hour,” she grimaced and Lana chuckled.
Christine sighed. “It is like Margie would say, heavy sister. I, um, I’m meeting Dhang tonight, and tomorrow I have another, private event, but I promise that on Saturday I will sit down with you and really go over this.” Christine stroked Lana’s hand. “You are deadly serious; you’d leave this and try, um, that? Isn’t that, incredibly risky?”
Lana shrugged. “Everything has risk, sweet Chris. Look what you’re doing. And I’m not judging, just saying, you’re taking risks. But yes, I’ve pretty much made up my mind, but I really want it to be us.”
Christine sat, moved by this comment. She looked into her friend’s dark eyes, “Why me? I don’t get it.”
Lana shrugged again. “Two are better than one, I think, when it comes to this. And I think we could make great money. Oh, and you’re beautiful.” She chuckled. “Remember, my plan is two years and out. Hey,” she said, standing, “good luck with your, queen.”
* * * *
“God, it seems like I’ve been away for months,” Frank May sighed, leaning his head back on the couch and accepting the martini Laverne handed him.
“What all did you have to do; oh, and where did you go?” Laverne asked, sitting on the chair opposite.
Frank smiled at her. “Here, there and everywhere. You know, my dear, that’s all classified.” They both smiled, “And speaking of that, what all did you do to keep busy, besides the party on the fourth that is, these weeks?”
Laverne looked at her husband and smiled thinking, wouldn’t you be surprised, before murmuring, “Sorry dear, that’s classified.”
* * * *
The car was waiting for Christine when she came out, first and alone, from the Annex building. The driver opened the door for her and she was surprised to find she was alone. In a few minutes she was being deposited at the doors of Dhang’s hotel and in moments was making the ride up to the seventh floor and then, heart pounding, she knocked and waited, anxiety building.
But instead of the annoying Hyun, Dhang herself opened the door, looking exquisite in a sheer, black negligee. Christine dropped to her knees and crawled into the room, Dhang standing and smiling benevolently.
* * * *
Dinner over, the ladies placed the dishes and cutlery into the double sink. Connie was washing tonight, and Dolly drying; neither Lana nor Christine were there and Margie and Gerry now headed upstairs. “So how are things going, with the, um, switch?” Margie asked quietly.
Gerry looked at her housemate; she and Margie had not spent a lot of time together, and she didn’t really know the girl well. “It’s going, um, good so far. Are you okay?”
Margie smiled, “Yeah, I’m dealing with it. It’s easier dealing with, uh, feelings or whatever like this, away from Christine.”
They had reached the second floor and stopped. “You care for her,” Gerry said quietly. “That’s understandable.”
“Yeah, I do, and so that makes it complicated. You must like her, too?”
“Oh shit yeah, I like her. I like her a lot. But she’s not inside me, I guess, like I think she is with you.”
Margie nodded her head, “That’s a good way to put it, she’s inside my head and I need to deal with it.”
Gerry considered for a moment. “Um, you know, you can use her, hey. And you should. She wants to be used Margie, that’s the way it is.”
Margie looked at her. “What are you suggesting?”
Gerry started walking toward her room. “Come to our room and have her serve you, eat you out, stuff like that. Treat her like a doll or whatever, get over this attraction you have and just have fun. You know, she’ll never belong to you or me, so what the hell, like I said, have some fun. I’m going to.” Gerry stopped and looked at the younger woman. “I’m going to use my Slave-girl, which is what she is now, every day I can, and you should too.”
Margie considered. “I don’t know; I care, I guess it’s different, personal…”
Gerry shrugged, “Only if you let it be, girl.”
* * * *
Christine and her mistress lay together on Dhang’s bed. It wasn’t yet even nine, but they had eaten, drank and made sweaty love for over an hour; and it had not been mistress and slave love-making, but two women doing everything to each other they could.
While Dhang could be self-centered, demanding, even cruel, she could also be wonderfully loving and passionate; it was her paradox. And after Christine had brought her mistress to a climax, the woman had, as she seemed so capable of doing, taken Christine to the edge over and over again before lifting her over the top, in an orgasm that seemed to take Christine out of this existence and into something else. Somewhere where she was soaring and floating, away from the bed and the room and the hotel they were in.
Christine could not describe it in words, she could only feel it, and it was spell-binding and bewildering.
As they lay, Dhang talked in her soft, melodious, compelling voice, of whatever was in her mind. To Christine it was hypnotic.
“You have never been out of the states, have you?” Dhang asked, and Christine murmured her acknowledgement. “You should, you know, travel.”
“Why?” Christine asked, quietly, while snuggled against the warm, brown body, her hand allowed to rest on the thick, black patch of her mistress’s pubic hair.
Dhang lay in thought. “Well, my, slave-to-be, this is only one way of existing; there are other cultures, many of them, that hold a different view on many, many things.
Now Christine considered. “Well, I am happy here. It’s the greatest country in the world. We have so much, why would I want to leave?”
Dhang chuckled. “That is so, American of you, my sweet bitch.” She paused. “We live in a world of lies, my love; everything is made of sand. The only thing that lasts is that which you cannot touch. You have been raised on American lies, not everything is as you’ve been told.”
Christine lay now, slightly troubled and not knowing why. “Why do you say lies, Mistress. Who is lying to me?”
Dhang propped herself on one elbow and looked at her companion. “You are like a child,” she said, stroking the thick brunette hair. “Everyone lies, my sweet. Your parents, your teachers. And now you are working for the government; they are the biggest liars of all.”
Christine just stared, in silence. She knew she was clueless about most things and she had no doubt Madame Dhang was far more sophisticated and knowledgeable about, well, everything. “Land of the free and home of the brave, that’s the motto, the slogan, right? Yet you have a large part of your society that, even now, after demonstrations and legislation, still remains segregated. It took armed guards to allow Negros into schools. And you, white, but a woman, do you feel free?”
Christine considered. “I, um, can go where I want. I’m here, in Washington, alone, by my choice.”
“Yes,” Dhang nodded her head, “but there are many things you, as a woman, are not allowed to do. And, there are many things you are expected to do. Have you ever wondered why authorities are so fixated on sex, like the big fuss happening in New York City; people of the same gender having sex. Are those people free?”
“Well, I know a lot of stuff, even laws, comes from religion, especially about sex.” Christine murmured, thinking of her mother; and Elizabeth Devers.
“That is true, and yet, why is it anyone’s business where a man puts his penis or if a woman wants to lay with another woman, like we are, right now? What harm are we causing, yet you could be fired for this behavior. Open to public ridicule and shame.”
They sat in silence, Dhang then continued. “But I’m thinking of bigger things, my whore. Things like war, which your country has become very good at.”
Struggling with this discussion, Christine said, “But the world depends on us, to keep it safe.”
“Safe from what?” Dhang smiled.
“Well, um, Communists, for one thing.”
Dhang chuckled, “Do you know any communists? Could you tell a communist if you saw one? Could you, for example, tell me the difference between what Stalin believes and what Marx believes? Two famous communists, but very different men.”
Christine knew she was in over her head and decided to just listen, rather than appear foolish.
“Is that why your country has thousands of soldiers in Vietnam, to save the country from communists?”
“Well, um, yeah, that’s what they say.”
Dhang rolled off the bed and stood naked, looking down at Christine, “I saw Vietnam as a young woman; it was called a Garden of Eden then. I saw it again not long ago and it has been changed by war; by daily bombings, by your American army. And the thing is, my young white whore, those bombs can’t tell the difference between peasant villagers and communists. But the American companies that are profiting by this war don’t care about that.”
Christine looked up into Dhang’s face, feeling uncertain and insecure.
“You should get away, and, I have a proposal.”
Christine stared, a growing unease slowly spreading through her gut. “Y-yes?”
Dhang stood for a moment in contemplation; a smile playing on her plump, red lips. “I am being ordered back to my country. I leave Tuesday morning.” She paused and stared hard at Christine. “I want you there, with me, in my home, as my slave. I will care for you and teach you; you will be safe with me, and never need to worry about a job or a husband, or any other expectations. You would only need to do one thing; serve me.”
Christine lay in silence, overwhelmed, unable to speak.
* * * *
Lana picked up her small purse and stood, smiling at the gentleman. “Ah’d love to see you a-g’in, darlin’,” he said in his southern drawl.
“That would be wonderful, just call Madame Lu and we’ll meet for another date. But I warn you, steak and lobster is always my thing.”
The man chuckled, “Y’all kin have as much o’ that as y’all wants. Ah luv t’see a woman eat. S’pecially one’s as purty as y’all.”
Lana smiled and left, checking the envelope as she walked to the elevator. Six hundred dollars, four for her. More than a month’s work in the crew, unless they had several events. And she hadn’t even slept with the man, just given him a hand-job and some cuddling. She smiled.
* * * *
Anne entered her favorite hotel; a message had come to her that a phone call was coming through tonight and so she had made haste, checking her watch to see she still had four minutes. When the call came it was not what she was expecting.
“Okay, so this young Negro man will be part of the staff at next week’s function, why do I need to know that today?” When the answer came she sat, stunned. “So he’s a patsy, okay, but what’s going down?” She listened, growing more agitated. “Alright, I agreed to gather info and compromise individuals, I never agreed to anything close to a fucking…bomb. Jeezus! How the hell are you going to take out the general with all of us there too?”
Anne listened now with a growing sense of dread, hanging up the receiver without saying anything more.
She was to help get the parts of a small bomb to this new fellow, who would be prepped to think it was for something far different. But it was intended to go off near the general, at the home of the Mays, and collateral damage was expected. This would then be blamed on the young man with a history of public disturbances and two arrests on his record.
‘Collateral damage’, Anne shivered at the term. Laverne was possibly to become collateral damage.
* * * *
Christine sat on her steps; a bell somewhere was chiming the hour of ten, but she was in no hurry, sitting as if she were in a daze. She looked up as a taxi pulled along the curb, and watched as Lana climbed out and paid the fare.
As the tall woman strolled up the sidewalk, Christine lifted her head and smiled, but Lana stopped and regarded the woman, “What’s wrong, Christine?”
Christine smiled feebly and said, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t give me that, kid. You look like your dog just got run over. Things didn’t go well with your, mistress?” She said, sitting beside her friend.
Christine wavered for a moment, then threw her arms around the woman and sobbed into the collar of her expensive jacket. Lana made gentle, soothing noises and stroked the lovely hair, as Christine slowly calmed down. When she was under control, she summarized the evening, and Dhang’s proposal.
“Well, shit, that’s a kick in the gut. Did you have any idea this was coming?”
Christine wiped her nose and patted her face, then sighed. “Well, you know she asked me to be her, um, slave, which I didn’t really get, because I was already doing whatever she asked. But leaving the country, no, this was never even hinted at, and you know, I don’t think Dhang knew about it.”
“Well, damn, that beats my news.”
“Yeah,” Christine tilted her head and regarded her friend, “what’s that?”
Lana sat quietly for a moment, then pulled out the envelope with the cash. “I had my first john tonight, well, at least my first official john, one arranged through an agency.”
Christine stared at the wad of bills. “Well, damn,” she said.
* * * *
“So,” Gerry murmured, as she and Christine stood in front of the sink, having slept together again but with no ‘extra-curricular’; “with last night’s deal and your event tonight, my Slave-girl is going to have to make things up tomorrow, hmmmm?”
Christine bent slightly and kissed Gerry’s cheek, “Thank you, Miss Gerry, for being an understanding, mistress. Tomorrow I’m all yours; most of the day, anyway (she knew she needed to talk with Lana at some point).”
Gerry slipped her hand between Christine’s thighs and gently squeezed, “That’s very good. I’ve actually bought a couple of things for my Slave-girl.” Christine looked at Gerry and raised her eyebrows. “You’ll see,” the woman smiled.
* * * *
A message was waiting for Christine when she walked into the office; she was to head upstairs to meet Julia Sullivan. This wasn’t a surprise, as they knew Christine had met with Dhang last night and had the event tonight, but Christine was surprised that this wasn’t a ‘private session’.
Christine was shown into Sullivan’s office and waited as the woman finished up some paper work. “So,” the stocky assistant began, looking business-like this morning, before getting right down to business, “I’ve had word from Dhang that she’s leaving; you’ve heard this too?”
Christine nodded, “She told me last night. She said it will be Tuesday and she’s heading home.”
“This was a surprise?” Sullivan observed.
Christine nodded again, “To me, certainly, but I think um, Madame Dhang was surprised as well.”
Sullivan nodded and sat in thought for a moment, then said quietly, “She’s gone through, um, back channels you might say, above Director Silverberg actually, to have paper work and passport expedited for, you, Miss Callister. She wants you to accompany her.” Sullivan looked at the young woman and Christine could not read her.
“Um, she, well, proposed that to me last night. I was taken by surprise; I’m still, uh, confused or not clear. So much has happened so quickly.” Christine paused and looked at Sullivan, sitting solid and stoic.
“That I can understand, Miss Callister. The decision, obviously, a huge one, is yours to make. We will move things along very quickly if this is what you wish, just know…” She looked hard now into Christine’s eyes, “the department is very interested in the, oh, possibilities in this. You could be a real asset to us, being right there.”
Christine sat and considered. She had always been someone to not make waves. She accepted things, assignments, duties, whatever, often to avoid conflict. She could feel the pressure on her right now, and the easy thing, the normal thing for her, would be to just say, “Of course, I’ll do it.” This without the added consideration of her overwhelming feelings for Dhang.
She spoke quietly, “But where would I be, Mrs. Sullivan? Does the department even know where Dhang is headed? Do you know where she actually lives? Will there be any way for you to check on me, or contact me? Will I be totally alone?”
Sullivan sat back in her chair and studied the beautiful woman before her. She could understand someone wanting to take this creature away, but it seemed at this point Callister might be growing a bit of a backbone. She wasn’t prepared, it seemed, to go along to get along.
“What you ask is fair, Miss Callister. You would be on your own, pretty much. Dhang has an estate in Seoul, her main residence and our group, with Gary England, will be based in the city. But we would not be, watching over you, no. You have reason to fear this woman?”
Christine sighed, “I, um, fear being isolated and vulnerable in some place where I don’t speak the language and under the supervision of a powerful woman. Dhang and I have enjoyed, um, each other’s company you might say. I have feelings, well, strong feelings for her as a woman. But I really know nothing about her.”
All that was true, Sullivan contemplated, they were asking an untrained office staffer to walk into a potential lion’s den. But, many do that each day, she thought, considering the war in Vietnam.
After Callister had left, Sullivan walked over to her boss’s office. He looked at her, aware of why she was there. “I think you may need to talk with her, Sir, if we’re going to um, move things along.”
(End of Chapter 17)