The Collectors Read Free Page B

modern art. As we moved from one room to the other, I found myself hoping the pretend part of the evening would soon come to a close and we could start getting on with the business at hand, which was for this woman to act like a mistress. She gently put her hand on the small of my back as she moved us along. She held doors for me. She looked intently in my eyes as I spoke about her pieces of art. When we walked down the hall to go back to the study, she gave me her arm and I took it, as if we were entering a ballroom. Adele was seated in her previous place, poised at the front of the chair, while Mrs. Kirchberger was placing a coffee service on the large table between the chairs and sofa. She quietly left the room and closed the door. No one spoke as Jeanne nodded to Adele, who stood to pour the coffee and pass the cups around before returning to her chair. I was uncomfortable with the sudden silence after so much lively conversation, but it didn’t seem like my silence to break. I concentrated on my coffee.
    After a few almost unbearable minutes of silence, Jeanne spoke to Adele.
    “Undress, please.”
    Here was another magic door opening. All seemed normal, and then bang.
    Adele stood at once and reached behind her neck to undo her zipper. Her dress was off in a moment, her bra and panties an instant after. Jeanne motioned her over and Adele came to her side, fell to her knees, and remained still while Jeanne reached into the drawer of the end table and pulled out a collar and leash, fastening the collar around Adele’s neck. Adele now held her head high and stared at me, even as Jeanne seemed to tighten the collar one notch beyond comfort. Mrs. Kirchberger entered the room just as Jeanne rose from the sofa holding the leash. She turned to me with her other hand extended.
    “It’s been a delightful evening. I do hope you’ll join me for dinner again.”
    Nonplussed wouldn’t describe what I felt. Paralyzed might. It was as if I had been given a puzzle involving a nonsensical sequence of objects and I was supposed to figure out what came next. Jeanne gave my hand a slight tug, not to pull me to my feet but rather to give me a hint as to what I was expected to do.
    “Mrs. K. will see you out, if that’s all right?”
    I looked at Adele. She looked serene, waiting patiently to be led to some darkly atmospheric room furnished with everything Jeanne’s excellent imagination could think of to use on her, waiting only for me to get out of her way.
    “I had a wonderful time,” I said, my voice a little squeaky. “I hope we’ll see each other again.”
    Mrs. Kirchberger led me out of the study, down the stairs, and out the front. As she closed the door on me without a word, I felt my face warm with humiliation. I felt like I’d done something wrong and my punishment was an early exit from the house. It was not the sort of punishment I’d been hoping for.

Chapter Two—The Auction
     
    I’m a collector myself, I wanted to tell Jeanne. I collect lesbian BDSM novels and stories, and I collect them more out of a desire to be close to the subject than a driving need to acquire this or that piece. My collection was the only thing between me and a complete vacuum, for I’d always been a submissive with no dominant in sight. A world of real possibility rushed in the instant I met Jeanne, and suddenly my collection of books seemed to be merely a collection of books.
    It had been three weeks since the dinner at Jeanne’s, and I hadn’t heard a word from her or Adele. I went to some of the drop-in drawing classes to see if Adele was there, but she never was. I walked by Jeanne’s house several times, but found no clue about its owner. I assumed I had flunked my audition and even thought they’d both fled town to get as far away from me as possible. That was a little grandiose, but I was so miserable I invited each and every thought about them to take root in my crazy brain. I pulled out a chair and invited them to stay