[The Story Of O Return To Roissy Pdf Rar
Rancul Ratha
The apartment where O lived was situated on the IleSaint-Louis, under the eaves of an old house which faced south and overlookedthe Seine. All the rooms, which were spacious and low, had sloping ceilings,and the two rooms at the front of the house each opened onto a balcony set intothe sloping roof. One of them was O's room; the other, in which bookshelvesfilled one wall from floor to ceiling on either side of the fireplace, servedas a living room, a study, and even as a bedroom in case of necessity. Facingthe two windows was a big couch, and there was a large antique table before thefireplace. It was here that they dined whenever the tiny dining room, whichfaced the interior courtyard and was decorated with dark green serge, wasreally too small to accommodate the guests. Another room, which also lookedonto the courtyard, was Ren's, and it was here that he dressed and kepthis clothes. O shared the yellow bathroom with him; the kitchen, also yellow,was tiny. A cleaning woman came in every day. The flooring of the roomsoverlooking the courtyard was of red tile, those antique hexagonal tiles whichin old Paris hotels are used to cover the stairs and landings above the secondstory. Seeing them again gave O a shock and made her heart beat faster: theywere the same tiles as the ones in the hallways at Roissy. Her room was small,the pink and black chintz curtains were closed, the fire was glowing behind themetallic screen, the bed was made, the covers turned back.
Yes, a white pleated nylon nightgown, tailored and tasteful like theclothing of Egyptian statuettes, an almost transparent nightgown was unfoldedon the edge of the bed, on the side where O slept. O tied a thin belt aroundher waist, over the elastic waistband of the nightgown itself, and the materialof the gown was so light that the projection of the buttocks colored it a palepink. Everything - save for the curtains and the panel hung with the samematerial against which the head of the bed was set, and the two small armchairsupholstered with the same chintz - everything in the room was white: the walls,the fringe around the mahogany four-poster bed, and the bearskin rug on thefloor. Seated before the fire in her white nightgown, O listened to her lover.
He began by saying that she should not think that she was now free. With oneexception, and that was that she was free not to love him any longer, and toleave him immediately. But if she did love him, then she was in no wise free.She listened to him without saying a word, thinking how happy she was that hewanted to prove to himself - it mattered little how - that she belonged to him,and thinking too that he was more than a little naive not to realize that thisproprietorship was beyond any proof. But did he perhaps realize it and want toemphasize it merely because he derived a certain pleasure from it? She gazedinto the fire as he talked, but he did not, not daring to meet her eyes. He wasstanding, pacing back and forth. Suddenly he said to her that, for a start, hewanted her to listen to him with her knees unclasped and her arms unfolded, forshe was sitting with her knees together and her arms folded around them. So shelifted her nightgown and, on her knees, or, rather, squatting on her heels inthe manner of the Carmelites or the Japanese women, she waited. The only thingwas, since her knees were spread, she could feel the light, sharp pricking ofthe white fur between her half-open thighs; he came back to it again: she wasnot opening her legs wide enough. The word "open" and the expression"opening her legs" were, on her lover's lips, charged with suchuneasiness and power that she could never hear them without experiencing a kindof internal prostration, a sacred submission, as though a god, and not he, hadspoken to her. So she remained motionless, and her hands were lying palm upwardbeside her knees, between which the material of her nightgown was spread, withthe pleats reforming.
What her lover wanted from her was very simple: that she be constantly andimmediately accessible. It was not enough for him to know that she was: she wasto be so without the slightest obstacle intervening, and her bearing andclothing were to bespeak, as it were, the symbol of that availability toexperienced eyes. That, he went on, meant two things. The first she knew,having been informed of it the evening of her arrival at the chteau:that she must never cross her knees, as her lips had always to remain open. Shedoubtless thought that this was nothing (that was indeed what she did think),but she would learn that to maintain this discipline would require a constanteffort on her part, an effort which would remind her, in the secret they sharedbetween them and perhaps with a few others, of the reality of her condition,when she was with those who did not share the secret, and engaged in ordinarypursuits.
As for her clothes, it was up to her to choose them, or if need be to inventthem, so that this semi-undressing to which he had subjected her in the car ontheir way to Roissy would no longer be necessary: tomorrow she was to gothrough her closet and sort out her dresses, and do the same with herunderclothing by going through her dresser drawers. She would hand over to himabsolutely everything she found in the way of belts and panties; the same forany brassieres like the one whose straps he had had to cut before he couldremove it, any full slips which covered her breasts, all the blouses anddresses which did not open up the front, and any skirts too tight to be raisedwith a single movement. She was to have other brassieres, other blouses, otherdresses made. Meanwhile, was she supposed to visit her corset maker withnothing on under her blouse or sweater? Yes, she was to go with nothing onunderneath. If someone should notice, she could explain it any way she liked,or not explain it at all, whichever she preferred, but it was her problem andhers alone. Now, as for the rest of what he still had to teach her, hepreferred to wait for a few days and wanted her to be dressed properly beforehearing it. She would find all the money she needed in the little drawer of herdesk. When he had finished speaking, she murmured "I love you"without the slightest gesture. It was he who added some wood to the fire,lighted the bedside lamp, which was of pink opaline. Then he told O to get intobed and wait for him, that he would sleep with her. When he came back, Oreached over to turn out the lamp: it was her left hand, and the last thing shesaw before the room was plunged into darkness was the somber glitter of heriron ring. She was lying half on her side: her lover called her softly by nameand, simultaneously, seizing her with his whole hand, covered the nether partof her belly and drew her to him.
The next day, O, in her dressing gown, had just finished lunch alone in thegreen dining room - Ren had left early in the morning and was not duehome until evening, to take her out to dinner - when the phone rang. The phonewas in the bedroom, beneath the lamp at the head of the bed. O sat down on thefloor to answer it. It was Ren who wanted to know whether the cleaningwoman had left. Yes, she had just left, after having served lunch, and wouldnot be back till the following morning.
It was past one o'clock, and the weather was lovely. A small pool ofsunlight fell on the rug, lighting the white nightgown and the corduroydressing gown, pale green like the shells of fresh almonds, which O had letslip to the floor when she had taken them off. She picked them up and went totake them into the bathroom, to hang them up in a closet. On her way, shesuddenly saw her reflection in one of the mirrors fastened to a door and which,together with another mirror covering part of the wall and a third on anotherdoor, formed a large three-faced mirror: all she was wearing was a pair ofleather mules the same green as her dressing gown - and only slightly darkerthan the mules she wore at Roissy - and her ring. She was no longer wearingeither a collar or leather bracelets, and she was alone, her own solespectator. And yet never had she felt more totally committed to a will whichwas not her own, more totally a slave, and more content to be so.
When she bent down to open a drawer, she saw her breasts stir gently. Ittook her almost two hours to lay out on her bed the clothes which she then hadto pack away in the suitcase. There was no problem about the panties; she madea little pile of them near one of the bedposts. The same for her brassieres,not one would stay, for they all had a strap in the back and fastened on theside. And yet she saw how she could have the same model made, by shifting thecatch to the front, in the middle, directly beneath the cleavage of thebreasts. The girdles and garter belts posed no further problems, but shehesitated to add to the pile the corset of pink satin brocade which laced up inthe back and so closely resembled the bodice she had worn at Roissy. She put itaside on the drawer. That would be Ren's decision. He would also decideabout the sweaters, all of which went on over the head and were tight at theneck, therefore could not be opened. But they could be pulled up from the waistand thus bare the breasts. All the slips, however, were piled on her bed. Inthe dresser drawer there still remained a flounce and fine Valenciennes lace,which was made to be worn under a pleated sun skirt of black wool which was toosheer not to be transparent. She would need other half-length slips, short,light-colored ones. She also realized that she would either have to give upwearing sheath dresses or else pick out the kin of dress that buttoned all theway down the front, in which case she would also have to have her slips made insuch a way that they would open together with the dress. As for the petticoats,that was easy, the dresses too, but what would her dressmaker say about theunderclothes? She would explain that she wanted a detachable lining, becauseshe was cold-blooded. As a matter of fact, she was sensitive to the cold, andsuddenly she wondered how in the world she would stand the winter cold when shewas dressed so lightly?
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