Chapter Four

A normal leisurely drive home now becomes more frantic... interspersed with flashbacks. Once understanding that my encounters with Antoinette De La Corte were photographed, probably videotaped as well, the memories become more vivid. In place of the reserved smile that usually accompanies my recollections of the episodes of kinkiness, consternation instead overtakes.

I was young, inexperienced with women, not to suggest that I am now more gregarious with regard to the female gender. A confident and authoritative Antoinette De La Corte saw something... something she secretly desired... not as one would covet a lover. But more as a child is wanting of a fascinating toy... and one that he or she is given to breaking in attempting to understand how it works.

Yes, during the ensuing two weeks of my internship I arrived every morning with coffee and various fruit. I was instructed that it was only for her. If I was to partake, it was before Miss Antoinette. During those morning meetings, I was present to serve not to share.

“Do you like my dress?” she would typically inquire, insisting on a humble compliment.

Sometimes it was the hair, though it never noticeably changed. Or the make up. Nails. Jewelry. My internship became more training in comportment and polite verbal folderol than the complexity of the law.

“You look very nice today, Miss Antoinette,” was my rote reply.

“Yes you do enjoy looking, don’t you Willie?” she would mock in sitting back and extending a leg for my visual examination, sipping on hot brew.

She would correct my posture, demanding that I remain sitting upright in a straight backed chair while she leisurely had her fruit.

“You discipline well, Willie,” I recall her observation later in that first week. “Quite obedient. Here waiting for me every morning... coffee hot... fruit fresh. What do you think about when you wait for me? Dream about looking at my legs? Giving my gams the visual humping my little puppy once tried. He only frottaged once before I had his balls removed. After that his entire attitude changed.”

“I think about how nicely shaped they are... strong but with curves. Quite athletic,” my words well chosen but seeming to squeak forth with her more graphic description of her puppy’s fate.

“There is more than just legs. I stay in shape. Lot’s of exercise. Do you exercise, Willie?”

“No Miss Antoinette. Probably not as much as I should.”

“That means never. I can tell. With guys like you it’s never. We’ll need to change that. You’d do that for me wouldn’t you, Willie? A little exercise? It would please me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ostensibly, I needed a few weeks in the U.S. Attorney’s office to just get by. Then return to my third and final year of law school with the de rigueur recommendation, which hopefully my demeaning morning c