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Pyrmont, 26 July (cont.)I release her from the ropes and retrieve the plug; wash the sweat from her skin with a warm cloth. Traces left by the rope and the rest of her exhausted body, I massage with healing oil. She earned it. It had been wonderful to witness her surrender to lust without reservation. A surrender I unleashed in her, rewarding me with a cerebral orgasm.I succeeded, despite her inexperience and the fear that often comes with it. But above all, it is to her credit, her guts, to jump into the deep end with me. During the massage, she falls into a restless sleep. It gives me the opportunity to send the letters she wrote and have lunch prepared.Her diary lies next to the stack of letters, but I resist its temptation. For now, I assess her well enough without violating the privacy of her thoughts. When I return, she is still asleep, and I put clothes for her on the dressing table, before focusing on some letters I must write myself. It remains warm and stifling, but I want to know how she is when she awakes. A few hours later, the sun breaking through an overcast sky wakes her, hungry and in need of a toilet.?I can?t help you with the latter, but I suggest we use the terrace to enjoy a late lunch. It may be warmer than your atelier, but there is a gentle breeze outside.?She picks up the mask lying on the folded dress. ?For me???If you like,? I say, ?I assume you want to remain anonymous.?She holds the mask before her eyes in the vanity?s mirror. It is an elegant model made of white voile concealing her eyes and nose, with embroidered decorations in the thin translucent fabric. ?Who is there to hide from?? she asks.?With the weather as it is, we might run into residents seeking a breath of fresh air,? I say, and gather my papers. ?They?re free to do so.??Your other whores, you mean.? The reproach is obvious, but her slight smile gives her away. It?s an act.?Jealous?? I ask, equally playful. She puts the mask on the dressing table. ?A little, maybe. They get paid for it.??You have my attention and interest, but if you prefer money...?Grinning, she shows me the door. ?Now go, oh great lover, unless you like to witness me visiting the toilet.??Don?t give me any ideas,? I say, and leave the room.*The terrace covers almost the entire width of the manor?s main building. It?s also the roof of the gateway to the former fortress. Standing there offers you a view of the stone bridge over the wide moat that turns the estate into an island.Boastful tales tell that the stronghold resisted every siege during the Thirty Years? War, but there wasn?t much fortress left after. On the remaining ruins, previous owners commissioned the Baroque-styled Schloss.The fortifications which now house the dungeons serve as its foundations. The schism in architectural styles fits in perfectly with the dual role of the estate, with a dark underworld supporting a pleasant facade. Not that the two worlds cannot mix.When Milena and I arrive for lunch, several ladies and a young man are enjoying a good glass of wine and a faint breeze. We greet with a hand wave, but the terrace is wide enough to keep us separate from their lively conversation. The staff served our lunch on a table under a large parasol, and we recline next to each other.?It?s nice to be outside again,? Milena says, filling her plate with the delicacies on offer. She nods to the young man in the group. ?Is he staff or guest? He doesn?t look like he would have to pay for sex.?Indeed, he has a pleasant appearance, dressed in simple trousers with his torso bared. ?Ferdinand lives here,? I say. I take the wine bottle from the cooler and pour two glasses. ?Interested??She chuckles and picks up the glass. ?For now, I?m glad you?re letting me catch my breath. Adana Escort Are there many women among your ?guests????There is one sitting next to me if I remember correctly,? I say, which earns me a scowl, ?but of course, there are other ladies who visit the house for their pleasure. I think women, like men, have every right to enjoy their sins. Unfortunately, only a few dare, and they often wear masks like the one you?re wearing now. As for Ferdinand, he doesn?t really care. He is as dedicated to men as he is to women.??A real martyr for the cause, just like you apparently are,? she says and enjoys a bite of smoked salmon, washing it down with a sip of wine. ?Are your whores here voluntarily to be screwed by your clientele??I sigh in exasperation. It?s a justified question, but the derogatory words she uses are not. ?Listen, I won?t deny desperate circumstances can force people who work and live here to fulfil the role they play. Or that I sometimes manipulate them to do so. But in the end, they choose that role over the few alternatives they have. Everyone who visits the House of Seven Sins is free to leave whenever they want, on condition of secrecy. That goes for the guests, but also for the staff.?She doesn?t react, just keeps eating in silence. I guess she suspects this isn?t the entire story. I know it isn?t.?Yes, sometimes things go wrong,? I say. ?When someone decides they?re old and wise enough for this work, and it?s the wrong decision. The risk you run when you play with intimate desires.??That goes for me as well,? she says.?That goes for anyone who dares to live. Do you regret the choices you made so far??Her answer is as direct as her gaze. ?No. At least not the choices you forced on me. But they frighten me.??You aren?t the person you thought you were, but you don?t know who you are now?? I ask.?Yes, something like that. It feels that way,? she says. ?I don?t recognise myself sometimes, how I react to things, to what you do to me. It scares the hell out of me. Not during our game, but when I look back on it.?So her derogatory words weren?t meant for my staff, but for herself, comparing her actions to their work. Shame can return with a vengeance once you?re out of the game. I put an arm around her and kiss her on the cheek.?For some time, dear Milena, this will remain so. Gradually, you will recognise the person you face in the mirror again. You took the leap. Now you have to wait and see where you end up.?Grinning, she pokes me in the side. ?Between the lions, apparently,? she says and nods at the company leaving the terrace, ?with a Sybarite as a tamer.?I laugh. The hedonism of ancient Sybaris was so legendary it outlived the city by centuries.?The latter I can?t deny. But if I am anyone?s tamer, I?m yours. From the other animals in the pack, you have little to fear but much to learn.??Excuse me???It was their testimonies that you read. They inspired you.?It?s true, and she knows it. Whether she wants to accept it is another matter. ?Don?t worry, you?re in good company. A brilliant young scientist from Vienna studies them as well.??Pleasant research, no doubt,? she says, ?for him anyway. Surely also someone who comes over to do fieldwork???No, he?s serious about unravelling the human mind. If he wants to come by and ask my staff questions, he?s welcome.??Well, I?ll admit it,? she says. ?I?m curious about their experiences and how they deal with them. Although I?m not sure if I dare ask such personal questions.??A question often says more about you than the answer tells about the other,? I say. ?It helps if you get to know them first. You?ll meet with them before we embark on a journey with part of the troupe.??On a journey???Even though you learned Adana Escort Bayan to appreciate your dungeon, I never intended to lock you up for an entire month. As much as I enjoy your company, as Duke Von Anhalt Bernburg I have other obligations. Some of those obligations involve managing investments made by me and others. Most I can handle with letters and telegrams, but some matters require a personal conversation. Trust me, I?ll make sure it will be anything but boring.??With you as companion, that?s the last thing I?m afraid of,? she says, ?but what if people see me with you in public when I?m supposed to take care of my great uncle?s estate???That?s why you?re not going as yourself but incognito; a member of my entourage with a suitable identity. I have just the choice of roles that fit you like a glove. You can choose between acting as a servant or a courtesan apprentice.?She shakes her head with a grin before considering her options. ?I can play servant at home. Besides, the state of your tableware shows my talents don?t lie there. I?m your courtesan, anyway,? she says. With a weary sigh, she decides. ?Very well then, your personal whore in training. Have you trained all your ?staff??? she asks, still grinning; the spectre of shame averted for now.I chuckle. ?You really overestimate my libido. Besides, I have my preferences. At the moment, I prefer you.? Rising to my feet, I offer her my hand. ?Come, let?s start by introducing you to Yvette.??Yvette???My dresser and couturier, responsible for the staff?s clothing. Besides a mask, you?ll need proper clothing and a stage name to remain incognito. Yvette takes care of the clothes. I leave the alias to your imagination.?*?Jesus fucking Christ, Damian. Worth is driving me crazy with his totally impracticable designs for the Palace. Then everything I have to make for your pleasure trip with the girls; let?s not forget the usual work for the House and now this to top it all off?? With her long legs in high heels, Yvette strides ahead of us through her domain, wildly waving her arms.?A whole fucking custom-made ensemble within two days.? Milena and I struggle to keep up with her, passing changing rooms left and right. The gangway is littered with open trunks filled with extravagant clothes and paraphernalia, ready to be packed for the journey. It looks like a bomb exploded in a department store.We reach her workroom and with a thud, she slams the double doors behind us. Milena looks at me, startled. Yvette silences us with an elegant but resolute wave of her hand and closes her eyes. This is her space, her home, the place where she finds peace and quiet.A room with a high ceiling and large windows, filled with mannequins adorned with creations in various stages of development. Work tables covered with drawings of designs and strewn with instruments and machines used to force unwilling materials into the right folds and sizes. Wall cabinets full of luxurious fabrics in all shades, drawers filled with haberdashery, and books with images of the latest fashions. It could be a chaos like the dressing rooms, but it isn?t. The overcrowded studio exudes an atmosphere of order and serenity.Serenity, which Yvette seems to have regained when she turns to Milena. ?I?m sorry, darling,? she says, and waves a condescending gesture at me, ?but this character gets under my skin now and then, with what passes for planning,? she says, with a biting emphasis on the last word. ?I don?t have to explain that to you, I guess.? Then she looks at me again. ?Planning, Damian, look it up in a dictionary.?I offer Yvette a friendly smile. ?Let me try it. The Palace assignments aren?t that pressing. The official opening is a month away. During Escort Adana the first week, we don?t use everything you have to make. You can let that slide for now. As for the trip, we don?t need new items. We?re not going to perform in Paris or Berlin.? I gesture to Milena. ?This lady is about the same size as Alice, I guess, so what you can?t make, you borrow from her collection.??It?s all in the details, Damian, you should know that.? Yvette sighs wearily and turns to Milena. ?Let me have a look at you,? she says, studying Milena?s dress with disdain. ?Those rags were his idea, I suppose??With Yvette towering over her, Milena stands a little lost, seeking my support.?Don?t mind him, he is as useless as he is clueless,? Yvette says. She grabs a notebook and a tape measure. ?Raise your arms, please??Milena follows the instructions, and Yvette takes her measurements in a business-like manner.?Exactly the right proportions to make men?s heads spin. Even dressed in a burlap sack, they will chase you like little dogs. Do you have a name already??Milena shakes her head, turning red behind the mask.?Then we?ll just stick with ?darling?, shall we??Milena just nods, probably a little shaken by Yvette?s overbearing approach.?Are you complimenting yourself because you can do magic with burlap, or her, because not even you can improve on her looks?? I ask, trying to deflect Yvette?s focus on Milena.?Both, of course. Never be stingy with compliments, Damian. People are insecure enough as it is.? She turns to Milena. ?You don?t need the mask here, love, he is lucky with what you offer and you certainly don?t need to be ashamed with me.??Well, that?s fashion for you. Every year another nonsensical attempt to improve on Mother Nature?s perfection,? I say, and I want to bite my tongue.Yvette glares at me. ?That?s low, even for you, Von Anhalt Bernburg. We aren?t all blessed with a dream figure like hers. For some of us, every improvement counts.?She?s right. I am a blunt klutz. ?Sorry, Yvette, my apologies.? I mean it. ?Try to take it as a compliment that I just forget about it sometimes.?She coolly looks away, kneels in front of Milena, and continues measuring.?It?s all right. With your sense of fashion, you?ll never understand anyway. You wear clothes to hide your body, while my creations frame its beauty. If you don?t like my work, you can spend the winter playing outside naked. By the way, I need measurements for your new winter wardrobe. I think you?ve put on weight again.?I answer her fake grin with an equally sincere hand kiss. ?As if your creations offer any protection against the elements.??Armed with my fashion, you won?t have to enter the cold. They?ll carry you on their hands from one warm place to another. With the shoes you have in mind for her, she?ll have to, sadist.? Yvette stands up and hands them to me. High heels that can compete with Yvette?s pair.?It?s not the shoe, it?s what it does to her stature,? I say.Yvette sneers. ?Say, you?re going to teach your mother how to fuck?? She snatches the shoes out of my hands in exchange for a teasing slap on my rear. ?Now go, out with you. This is a girl thing. When we?re done, I?ll send her back.? I look at Milena to make sure she agrees. Her smirk tells me all I need to know.**To say that Yvette is not the sort of dresser I expect is putting it mildly. Tall and slender in insanely high heels, she scowls in front of us as we follow her down a corridor of messy dressing rooms. There is something coarse about her, masked by the elegance of her movements, her luxuriantly long hair, and her clothes. A lady like I imagine mannequins in Paris to be. She also speaks with an obvious French accent. Her sophisticated attitude isn?t reflected in the way she treats you like a little boy. You let her. I am a bit afraid of her, but in the end your banter is amusing and there is a mutual respect that suggests a close bond. Although the picture of you two sharing the bed strikes me as comical, the way she towers over you.