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From: "Mac Eddey" <smilodon@postmaster.co.uk>
Subject: {ASSM} Metamorphosis of Narcissus (M+F anal oral nc)
Date: Sun,  8 Dec 2002 17:10:02 -0500
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Metamorphosis of Narcissus


I was down at the gym with Phil and David. We went there three
times a week after work. Phil was a bit of a bodybuilding nut but
David and I were just trying to keep the middle-aged spread at
bay. Phil was spotting for me as I puffed and grunted my way
through the third reps, or, more accurately, tried to prevent the
bar from crushing my rib cage. There was the usual early evening
crowd of overweight business types plus a few guys from the local
Rugby Club. And there was Charles. 

As usual, Charles was over by the full-length mirrors doing bicep
curls and studying his image in the mirror. He was one of those
people you've just got to hate. I would guess he was in his early
thirties, extremely good looking, like a male model, and rich. He
ran some property development company and had made a killing in
the redevelopment of derelict land in one of the scruffier parts
of London. Suddenly this grotty patch is fashionable -
gentrification, they call it - and our boy Charles is rolling in
it. He came to me for legal advice in his early days but I'm no
property lawyer so I sent him to one of the big City firms. To be
honest, I was glad to see the back of him, there was something
about him that didn't sit quite right with me, I don't know why.
He accepted my advice with good grace and he later claimed I'd
done him a huge favour, describing me as `a man honest enough to
know his own limitations'. Patronising git! 

I don't know how he did it but he managed to produce this
incredibly toned body with an apparent minimum of work. I saw
guys sweat blood in that gym and not achieve half the results.
Charles was one of the favoured few. He dressed superbly, drove a
new Aston Martin and always had some trophy girlfriend hanging on
his arm and every word. I think we could have accepted all of
that if he'd the good grace to have some flaw - any old small
blemish would have made him tolerable - but no, Charles was
perfect. Irritatingly, sickeningly, unendurably perfect. 

Phil looked his way and said, "What do you give to the man who
has everything?" David gave a wolfish grin as he hoisted the bar
off my chest and said, "Syphilis, I hope!" That about summed up
our feelings. I know it's petty and admit it's entirely motivated
by insane jealousy, but Charles was hard to like. The women in
the club seemed to have less of a problem, though. That part
didn't bother me so much as David and Phil. Both of them had lost
out to Charles in the pursuit of a particularly luscious young
lady called Rachel. I have to admit she was gorgeous, even if she
wasn't my type. Rachel was a tall, willowy natural blonde who
graced the gym for aerobics classes. She ran her own PR Agency,
so she was no dumb blonde, but on the odd occasions I'd met her,
there was something about her that jarred. I couldn't put my
finger on it for ages until I realised that she was a bit too
much like Charles. One of the chosen few: beauty, brains and
success. Again, there were no obvious flaws.

I suppose I'm a bit odd that way. I like my friends to be more
human, more ordinary, if you will. You need a blemish or two to
keep you humble, in my opinion. I have enough imperfections to
keep me abject but I like being ordinary. The way I see it, if
you're too perfect, you can only go one way. All the time I had
room for improvement, I could keep trying. There's also a
difference between liking who you are and being in love with
yourself. One is healthy; the other makes you a pain in the arse.
Charles was firmly in the latter camp. He was one smug bastard,
in short. 

Anyway, the three of us finished our work out and staggered off
to the showers. I guess I'm lucky have to friends like David and
Phil. We'd met at the Law College in Guildford and hit it off
straight away. We all served our time in one or other of the big
City firms and had then decamped en masse to set up MacDonald,
Harvey and Le Clerc, `Solicitors to the Gentry' or something.
Eight years on and the practice was thriving. We weren't making a
fortune, few solicitors in small country towns ever get rich, but
we were comfortable and happy enough with our lot. David handled
the domestic stuff, Phil was an employment specialist and I kind
of swept up with the litigation, intellectual property and bits
and pieces. We had a couple of newly qualified assistants for the
drudgework and although we worked reasonably hard, we still had
the time and inclination to play. 

We showered off and headed into the Jacuzzi to ease the aching
muscles. It was a bit of a ritual for us to sit in the tub and
chat about nothing in particular for a while after we'd worked
out. We have an unwritten rule never to discuss business outside
of the office. Anyone attempting to breach this rule is
immediately set upon by the other two. I think it helps us to
stay friends as well as business partners. 

That particular evening we were sitting in the tub chatting away
about life, the universe and everything when Charles came
waltzing in, not a hair out of place, as usual. 

 
"Ah, the Legal Eagles. How are we this evening, gentlemen?"

"Fine, Charles. Just dandy, thank you for asking."

"Good, good. I've been meaning to come to see you, James. I think
I can put some work your way."

"That's kind of you Charles. Why don't you give a ring tomorrow?
We can fix something up."

"Well, if you have a minute now? It's, ah, a rather delicate
matter. If we could meet in the bar in say, ten minutes? You can
follow me back to my place and we could have a chat."

I could feel Phil and David getting ready to pounce. There was no
need. The bastard assumed I'd jump at the chance. I smiled
sweetly. "Terribly sorry, Charles, I'm about to arrange a prior
engagement. Call me tomorrow and we can make an appointment." His
eyes flickered very briefly. I couldn't say whether it was anger
or disappointment. He gave a curt nod and left us. "That will
teach him to mind his manners," said Phil, "cocky bastard!" I
nodded but there was something nagging at me, something that
hadn't been quite right with the exchange. I shook my head, no
need to worry about it until the morning. Either Charles would
call or he wouldn't. I didn't care too much either way.  

Charles did call. He was most insistent on seeing me urgently. I
did have a free slot, as it happened, and it would have been
churlish to put him off just for the Hell of it. We made a date
for 4.00pm. I went through the daily grind without breaking
sweat. There was nothing interesting on my plate and, it being
just before Christmas, I wasn't expecting too much new activity
until after the holidays. On the dot of Four O'clock, Janet, our
secretary-cum-receptionist announced Mr Forsythe-Wheeler was
there to see me. "Mr Harrington will see you now," she said, or
rather tried to say, before she was even half way through the
sentence, the egregious Charles was into my office like a
long-dog after a rabbit. 

"James, good of you to see me."

"A pleasure, as always, Charles."

"I won't beat about the bush. I know you for a pretty discreet
sort and it's discretion I most need right now. I'm in a bit of a
fix and I need your help."

"Are you sure I'm the right man for the job, Charles? As you
know, commercial property is not my forte."

"This isn't a business matter. It's personal. In fact, James,
it's highly personal."

"If I can help you in my professional capacity, of course I
will."

"James I know that you don't like me very much, which puts you in
the vast majority in this town, but I do believe that you're a
fair and honest man. Let me explain the situation to you. I hope
you will see that I'm not asking you to do anything that would
impinge on your integrity or professional ethics."

"Ok Charles, fire away!"

Charles began to explain his problem. It seems that about four
years ago he had bought some property, a flat in Caxton Street,
Westminster, to be precise. He hadn't put his name on the deeds,
for tax reasons, as he explained it. The flat was actually
registered to a girlfriend. Unfortunately for Charles, she was
now an ex-girlfriend and was cutting up rough. He wanted to sell
the property; she had to sign and would get the proceeds. He was
prepared to `see her all right', as he put it, but as matters
stood she would waltz off with the whole six hundred thousand
pounds. I questioned him some more. No, there was nothing in
writing. No, there were no reliable witnesses to the arrangement.
Yes, she had turned down Ł50,000. He didn't seem to have too many
legs to stand on. 

"I see the problem, Charles. We could hit her with some sort of
`implied trust' thing but it wouldn't stand up if she has a
halfway competent lawyer."

"Ah. That's one of the difficulties. You see the young lady in
question is actually Sally Rodwell."
 
I took a minute to absorb this piece of information. Sally was
the daughter of Lord Justice Sidney Rodwell - Sid Vicious to the
legal profession. Rodwell LJ was one of the most feared Judges
ever to sit, even including Judge Jeffries! If his darling was in
a legal wrangle, any lawyer with an ounce of brains would be
running for cover. Whoever said I have an ounce of brains? I knew
Sally fairly well. She was a close friend of my ex-girlfriend,
Pippa. Pippa and I were on good terms and still occasionally
partnered each other to formal `dos' if we didn't have a current
romance on the go. To tell the truth, I still carried a bit of a
torch for her. No one else had come close after we broke up.

"OK, Charles, I'll tell you what I'll do. I will meet with Sally
and see if we can resolve this amicably. I'm pretty sure that
you've already been advised that, legally, you're dead in the
water?" 

He grunted but then agreed.

"Right then, you know that I know Sally and you are hoping that I
can talk her round, correct?"

Again he nodded. "I'll pay your normal rates, of course." 

"No you won't, Charles, you'll pay what I say it costs, because
you have no choice."

He looked startled and about to argue but then caved in. "How
much is it going to cost me, then?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. At least, not financially. No, I
will talk to Sally because she is a friend and I don't like to
see my friends involved in shady dealings. No, Charles, hear me
out. If you wish to evade tax, that is between you and the Inland
Revenue. If you'd done the thing properly in the first place it
would have cost you what, Ł100,000? It could cost you all of that
and more to get out of this mess of your own making."

"If you don't want a fee, what do you want?"

"It's simple, Charles. I want you to stop putting us down. I
mean, this practice and particularly me. No more of this `knows
his own limitations' stuff. No more `perfectly competent in their
own way' and definitely no more `adequate for a town this size.'
For whatever reason, Charles, people in this town listen to you,
especially business people. You're the `Golden Boy.' I can't
prove it but I know you have cost us some good accounts with your
damning of us with faint praise. It stops now or you're on your
own."

The bastard had the good grace to look uncomfortable for about
ten seconds and then agreed. He left shortly afterwards and I sat
for a while thinking about how to approach Sally. In the end I
decided that the direct approach was best and called Pippa to get
her number. A few minutes later Sally answered the phone. 

"Sally, it's James Harrington."

"James, how are you, long time no see!"

"I'm fine, Sally, in the pink, in fact. I've just had a very
unhappy Charles Forsythe-Wheeler darkening my door. He's asked me
to have a chat."

"James! I'm surprised at you! You're not working for that shit?"

"Not exactly, Sally, not working. Look it's a long story but I do
think we need to have a chat. It's in your interests as much as
his."

"James, ordinarily I'd be delighted to see you but not if you're
going to take his side. Anyway, you'd be wasting your time. Daddy
says he doesn't have a leg to stand on!"

"And did Daddy also tell you, Sally, that you would be committing
theft?

She was silent for a moment. "OK, James, so I didn't discuss it
with Daddy." There was an air of resignation in her voice. "When
do you want to meet?"

"Look, Sally, this isn't at all formal. What do you say I buy you
dinner and we have a chat and see if we can't put an end to this
business amicably?"

 
She sighed but agreed and we arranged to meet at a little Italian
restaurant I know in Sicilian Avenue in a couple of days time. 

***************************************************

I was early, Sally was late, but at least she showed up. She was
bright and brittle and avoiding the subject at first. She
loosened up after a couple of glasses of Barolo. When she did
start to talk, she rocked me to my foundations.

"Pippa says you're a nice guy, James, one of the `good ones'.
Charles is quite the opposite, but then again, so am I. I'm a
party girl. I love to have fun and am a teeny weeny bit short in
the inhibitions department. By the way, did you know Charles owns
that Health Club you all go to? No? Well, take my word for it, he
does. At least, he owns the building. Charles is a Grade A shit,
James. I know you have experience of it so I don't mind saying
it. However, he is wildly attractive.

"The point is, there is a private room at the back of the Gym. It
has a two- way mirror or whatever you call it, into the ladies'
changing rooms. Charles watches the girls getting undressed and
so forth. That's not really important. The room is also a fully
equipped `dungeon' for S&M fetishists. All sorts of chains and
benches and racks, all black leather or rubber or PVC. I'm sure
you get the picture. Well, it isn't really my scene but given
enough Columbian Marching Powder and a bit of booze I was up for
it, well anyway, I agreed to give it to a try. 

"Charles also invited three of his cronies so in short order I
found myself stretched backwards over something like a vaulting
horse with, well to be blunt, a prick in each available hole and
another wanking off over my tits. Now, don't get me wrong! I do
enjoy a good gang-bang as much as the next girl, especially in my
rather spaced-out state. I wasn't objecting at that point, in
fact, if I remember rightly, I was in the middle of some
screaming orgasms. I was that original `good time had by all'. 

"It started to turn ugly from my point of view when Charles,
having just come royally up my arse, started pissing on me and
got the others to do the same. He was also slapping me around and
calling me filthy names. The cronies did what cronies do and
followed suit, and I ended up pretty well roughed-up. I couldn't
go out for a fortnight, because of the bruises, and my insides
were pretty messed up too. Did I say he shoved this enormous
leather dildo everywhere he could? I was bleeding for two days! 

"I vowed that I would have the bastard for what he did. I
couldn't very well go to the Police - Daddy would have a
shit-fit! So I bided my time. When he wanted to sell the flat in
Caxton Street, I saw my chance. So now you know what you're up
against. By the way, he's done it to quite a few girls over the
last few years. We could form a club. Charles's ex-whores!"

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I'm no prude and
if Sally or anyone else got their jollies by being fucked in very
hole by a bunch of guys, that's their business. I have never been
able to stomach the rough stuff, though. The whole thing made me
feel sick and I couldn't eat another thing. There I was thinking
it was a case of `Hell hath no fury'. It wasn't a woman scorned I
was dealing with. It was a woman violated. I tried to gather my
scattered wits. I managed to pick up the pieces after a while and
a couple of hefty swallows of Barolo. That noble wine isn't
really meant to deaden one's sense of outrage. I tried to be
professional. 

"Sally, I don't want to belittle in any way what must have been a
horrible experience. My concern now is to find a solution to the
present impasse over Caxton Street that satisfies you and doesn't
leave you open to criminal proceedings. I understand he offered
Ł50,000. I know he will go higher, we can probably double that,
is there any chance you'll settle?"

She almost spat at me, she was so angry.

"Did you understand a word of what I've been telling you? It
isn't about money; it's about revenge. I won't even call it
justice. It's revenge, for me and the others. That's what I want.
By the way, Pippa is another of Charles's victims."

I didn't know what to say. I could see no way out. Hearing Pippa
had suffered similar treatment made me feel cold to my core.
Pippa wasn't a `party girl.' I felt close to tears. Whatever
loyalty I had felt to Charles as my `client' up to that point
evaporated instantly. 

"Hasn't anyone reported him to the Police?"

"Oh, James, come on! We all went in consenting. OK, judgement was
impaired by various substances, but can you imagine what Plod
would make of it?"
 
She had a point. Getting a straightforward rape investigated
seriously is difficult enough. Given the circumstances, it's hard
to see the Met exactly jumping through hoops to get a conviction.
Also, girls like Sally and Pippa wouldn't want the scandal.
Knowing Charles, it was unlikely that any of the victims would
have been anything other than solidly upper-middle class with a
lot to lose if things came out in Court. 

"What does Pippa say," I asked at last.

"Oh, you know Pippa. She doesn't want to see me in trouble and
doesn't want the World and his Wife to know that she got
gang-banged and beaten up by that little shit and his pals.
Pippa's into `let's pretend it never happened' mode."

I recognised that. Pippa always shied away from any sort of
confrontation. That was the reason we split in the end. Rather
than face any difficulty she would sidestep neatly. That's just
the opposite of me. I like things out front where I can deal with
them. Nothing ever got dealt with, so we drifted apart. I was
hurt at the time but recognised it wasn't her fault. I thought
for a moment. "Who else got the treatment?" I asked. 

"Just about every one of Charles's paramours in the last five
years. It's been getting worse, though, more violent. I swear
he'll do someone some permanent harm before too long. Rachel is
in for this Friday night, although she doesn't know it yet."

"Haven't you warned her?"

"Oh yes, even if she is a stuck-up bitch. Too like Charles in so
many ways. But no, we of the sisterhood should stick together. Do
you know Penny Atwater? Penny gave her the gypsy's warning but it
didn't faze our Rachel one bit. So I called her and told her what
had happened. She told me I was exaggerating or must be jealous
because I couldn't keep my man satisfied. Imagine! The bitch!"

"OK. I have an idea. It's strictly illegal, wholly unethical but
I frankly don't care. I think we can fix Charles's wagon. I'll
need your help, a couple of others too. I don't suppose Pippa
would be up for it but you might ask her. There is only one
condition. If I succeed in sorting out Charles, you agree to
settle on Caxton Street for, let's say, a hundred grand?" 

She agreed and I told her my plan. Her grin got wider as I
explained what I had in mind. 

I explained the whole situation to Phil and David; I needed them
on my side if the plan was to succeed. I needn't have worried.
Once they heard that Pippa had been a victim and Rachel was to be
next, they were in like Flynn. We left the office on the dot of
Five O'clock that Friday and went straight to the Gym. Sally was
there to meet us with Penny Atwater, a pretty redhead, and, much
to my surprise, Pippa. 

"Right, I need one of you three to clear the ladies' changing
rooms for us. Phil and I are going into the glazing business.
David, you go with Sally to Charles's private room and set things
up there." 

Pippa and Penny duly obliged and cleared the changing room. Phil
hung a prepared sign reading `Out of Order, Please use Swimming
Pool Changing Rooms' and then we set to work. We took out
Charles's trick mirror and reversed it. We could now look into
the Dungeon but he couldn't see out. On the other side of the
glass, we watched as David and Sally made their preparations.
They joined us in the darkened changing room and we settled down
to wait. A couple of hours passed slowly. Sally was flirting with
David and Phil was showing Penny how the video camera and
concealed microphone worked. I sat quietly with Pippa. She
reached out and squeezed my hand. 

"I only got involved with Charles because we broke up," she said.
"I didn't know what he was like, of course. He seemed ...
exciting somehow."

"Pippa, you don't have to explain."

"Oh, but I do! James, it was horrible. I don't know how it
happened but we'd been out for the evening and ended up back
here. I hadn't drunk much but I was feeling really woozy. He
showed me that Room." She gestured towards the mirror. He started
laying out a couple of lines of coke and snorted them. He asked
me to give him a blowjob and I don't know why, but I agreed. Then
these other men appeared. They literally ripped my clothes off.

 
 
"James, it was horrible. They were doing all these things to me
and it was like I was watching it happen. I was powerless to stop
them. I couldn't even struggle, I felt so weak. Then Charles
started to have me, you know, anally. It really burned but it was
like it was happening to someone else. I knew it hurt but I
couldn't really feel it properly. Charles got really angry
because I was just lying there. He wanted me to show how much I
was enjoying it! But I wasn't. I hated very second but I couldn't
do anything about it. My arms and legs seemed to weigh a ton. He
stared at me with this really cruel look on his face and then he
started to hurt me.

"He twisted my nipples and bit them hard, then he got a riding
crop and whipped me all over my front, from my breasts to my
thighs. The others were getting a bit concerned and saying things
like `you must have given her too much; the bitch isn't feeling
anything. Be careful, you don't want to do any lasting damage.' I
must have passed out about then and when I woke up, I was alone.
They'd left me on the settee in the foyer. The place was all dark
and closed up. I got a taxi home and went to bed. It wasn't until
the next day that I fully realised what had been done to me. I
called Sally. I wanted to call you but I was too ashamed.

"Sally told me that Charles must have drugged me with that
date-rape drug. That was why I was so detached and helpless. I
thought about going to the Police but I was afraid. Mostly I was
scared that you'd find out." 

Any lingering doubts about what we were going to do left me then
and there. I put my arms around Pippa and wept softly into her
hair. "I still love you, you know," I whispered. "I never
stopped." I saw she was crying too. She shook her head. 

"How can you when I've been such a whore?"

"It wasn't you, it was that bastard and his sick mind and sick
friends. Well it stops here, tonight!"

Suddenly a light came on in the private room and we all saw
Charles and Rachel walk in. Charles nonchalantly dangled a bottle
of Champagne and two flutes from one hand. Rachel was looking
tipsy and we could hear her giggles over the hidden microphone.
Charles pulled her towards him and they kissed passionately. He
unzipped Rachel's dress and she shrugged her shoulders to send it
sliding down and pooling at her ankles. Someone, I think it was
Sally, said, "Will you look at that? She's got artificial tits!"
We all laughed like maniacs, it broke the tension.

It was true. Rachel was definitely surgically enhanced - or
otherwise - depending on your point of view. She slipped her
fingers into the waistband of her thong and stood, totally nude,
in front of Charles, striking a pose with one arm raised and her
head thrown back. Her pubes were trimmed to a thin stripe down
the centre of her mons. You could see her lips pouting pinkly and
her erect nipples signalled her arousal. Her long blonde hair was
a silky frame to her beautiful face. She looked wonderful and
wanton. Charles's face was a picture of lust. His too-perfect
features were contorted into a satyr's mask. Rachel turned and
wiggled her backside at him. "Come and get it, Lover-boy." Her
voice was loud through the amplified microphone. Phil had started
the video camera. 

Charles stripped quickly. His body was flawless, as was his tan.
He was sprouting a semi-hard on and Rachel grabbed it and began
to rub him feverishly. He pushed her hand away and propelled to
her to one of the leather bench-like things that were scattered
around the room. She pushed him back and walked to a sort of
X-frame. She lay against it, face forward and indicated to
Charles to secure the manacles at each corner of the X over
wrists and ankles. It was clear that our Rachel was something of
a player. I was starting to have my doubts about the plan. It may
have been kinky but it was clearly consensual up to this point. 

The frame twisted and spun in both the vertical and horizontal
planes. Charles twisted her upside down and started to rain a
series of light slaps on her thighs, buttocks and crotch. Rachel
shivered and gasped. Charles then bent his head and started to
lick her with feather-light flicks of his tongue. We could see
the muscles in her buttocks flexing as she struggled to push her
pussy up to his teasing mouth. He took a twist of paper from a
hidden recess and we watched as he poured a sprinkling of white
powder at the junction of Rachel's thighs. "Got him!" said David
as Charles proceeded to snort the cocaine off his human table.
Two more figures entered the room. Rachel was incapable of
noticing anything at that point. She was lost in the middle of a
very loud and vocal orgasm.

Pippa's grip on my arm tightened as the two new arrivals
stripped. They were in good shape but didn't compare with
Charles. In the meantime, he had lowered the top of the frame to
the horizontal. Rachel was now suspended face down at about waist
height. One of the newcomers went around to her head and thrust
his engorged cock into her mouth. All Rachel could see was his
legs and feet so I suppose she thought it was Charles at first,
for she sucked avidly, making moaning noises in her throat.
 
It was only when Charles rammed two fingers into her arse that
she realised her mistake. We saw her jerk, shaking her head to
get way from the insistent cock battering at her mouth. The frame
and the guy fucking her face wouldn't let her move. The second
guy was now crouched beneath the frame, rubbing his hands over
her breasts and pinching her nipples. Charles grabbed a tube of
something from the recess and spread it on his fingers and prick.
He jabbed forward and we saw Rachel's eyes go wild with pain and
shock as he rammed her into her with no warning. 

The guy at Rachel's head suddenly convulsed and yelled aloud as
he orgasmed into her helpless mouth. There were tears in her eyes
and she was choking and retching. The one who had been on the
floor playing with her tits swapped places with the now sated
head-man. Charles was pumping like a demon. Rachel's scream of
"Nooooo!" was cut off as another rock-hard prick was forced into
her mouth. 

"I think we've seen enough," I said. "Time to surprise our friend
Charles." 

I nodded at David and he thumbed the button on a remote he took
out of his pocket. The five flashguns he'd hidden previously in
Charles's playroom all went off simultaneously. We raced around
to the door marked `Private - Staff Only' and pushed inside. The
two strangers were frozen in place, visibly wilting. Charles,
too, had stopped thrusting, but was still buried deep in Rachel's
arse. Rachel was the one who seemed to recover quickest. She
began screaming and cursing and threatening Charles with the
direst and most anatomically impossible of fates. Charles was
thunderstruck. He saw the six people in front of him and then he
spotted the video camera. Comprehension dawned. He relaxed. His
two pals grabbed their clothes and fled. We let them go, it was
Charles we were after.

 "How much do you want, Harrington, you bastard? Giving it all
that about only wanting me to stop talking you down. You're just
as money-grabbing as all the other shysters!" 

"Yet again, Charles, you are woefully mistaken. This isn't about
blackmail, it's evidence." 

His face paled and his withered dick slipped out of Rachel. She
was still screaming blue murder. I gestured to Sally and Phil to
get her out of the contraption. It was a mistake. She flew at
Charles with claws extended like an avenging fury and raked him
from eye to chin. Phil grabbed her and hauled her off. Charles
put his hand to the side of his face and gave a twisted grin as
it came away bloody. You could almost see him calculating the
odds. 

"You daren't use it, Harrington. You'd have to explain how you
got it. Not a good career move, I'd say."

"Oh we've thought of that. We all agreed if that what it takes to
stop you, so be it. Of course, we'll have to explain about your
two-way mirror and the ladies' changing room. We also have three
women at least prepared to testify that you also raped them. We
may get drummed out of the brownies, Charles, but you are going
down."

I was so angry; I must have sounded absolutely sincere. He became
conciliatory.

 "Can't we find some other way of dealing with this? After all,
no harm done, eh? Just a bit of a misunderstanding."

"No harm done you bastard!!!" Rachel succeeded in evading Phil's
grasp and launched another attack on him. "You raped my arse you
sick Fucker! You got your slimy friends to join in. I agreed to a
bit of fun, not some fucking fantasy by the Marquis de Sade." 

Rachel suddenly spotted the Champagne flutes and before anyone
could move, she grabbed one and darted towards Charles, smashing
the fragile glass and ramming the broken stub into his face. He
screamed as the razor-sharp shards tore at his face. Phil, David
and I all grabbed her together and dragged her away. Her own hand
was badly cut and we had some difficulty prising open her
fingers, slippery with blood as they were. 

Sally grabbed the Champagne bottle and hurled into the two-way
mirror. The bottle shattered and the mirror cracked in two. Our
hasty reversal had not secured it too well and it fell from its
frame onto the changing room floor, where it smashed. Things were
now well out of hand. It was Pippa who pulled it all back
together. She slapped a now hysterical Rachel into a stunned
silence, crushed Sally with a glare and grabbed Charles and sat
him down on one of the leather-covered benches. She sent Phil to
get towels and Penny to fetch the first aid kit out of my car. 
 
Fifteen minutes later calm was restored. The glass had punctured
Charles's right cheek but fortunately the damage was limited to a
single jagged cut about two inches long. Rachel, now dressed and
calm, had a bandage over her cut hand but still had murder in her
eyes. The rest of us were feeling pretty subdued. Charles,
particularly, looked deflated. His face had three livid scratches
down one side and a bloody hole in the other. Winter had come
with a vengeance for Narcissus. 

"This has all gone far too far," Pippa said. "Charles, You should
get a Tetanus shot. You too, Rachel. I don't think you need
stitches but you might." She turned to glare at me. "James, I
don't what you were expecting to happen but I can't believe we
all agreed to do this. We should have known better, all of us!" 

Sally started to protest but Phil and David looked shamefaced,
which was precisely what I was feeling. Only Rachel looked
defiant but she was still flying on whatever cocktail of booze
and drugs Charles had fed her. Pippa continued in the same vein.

"As for you Charles, I dare say you deserved what happened here
tonight. You are a low, odious creature that doesn't deserve to
be called a man. Well, now you know that we all know and that we
have the evidence to prove it. You even look hard at any girl in
future and I'm going straight to the Police with this tape." 

We left it like that. We were all too drained to think straight.
A couple of weeks later I got a call from Sally to say she'd
settled with Charles on the Caxton Street property. I called
Pippa a few times but she was never there and never responded to
any of the messages I left. I asked Sally but she didn't know
where Pippa had gone. Christmas was an anticlimax. Phil, David
and I joined another Gym. There was no trace of Charles. 

A few weeks into the New Year, I got a real surprise. I had spent
the morning in Court and just got back to the Office when Charles
walked in. I ushered him into my office. He looked as prosperous
as ever and, apart from a pink-ish scar on one cheek, just as
good-looking. His demeanour, though, was something else again. 

"James, this is going to sound very odd indeed, but I want to
thank you. I've been in rehab for the past two months and I have
been fortunate enough to discover some things about myself before
it was too late. Those poor girls I abused, it wasn't the sex. It
was because I felt I could, It was largely the drugs, of course,
gave me this feeling of omnipotence. But I have learnt, James,
that it was there in me, lurking. I haven't ever believed in good
and evil or light and darkness but I do now. 

"We all have a dark side. Basically good men, like you, keep it
under control. Weak men, like I have been, find excuses to give
it free rein. Anyway, I am off drugs now and swear to you I will
never go back. I have stopped drinking as well. I don't think
drinking was the cause of it but I'm afraid that if I get drunk,
I might weaken. I have apologised to all those I hurt and
humiliated, except Pippa. I couldn't seem to find her. I have
offered to compensate them all. Some have accepted, others told
me where to go. 

"I know it's hard for you to believe but I really am a changed
man. I just wanted you to know that you did me the greatest
service anyone can do for another. You held up a mirror and I saw
myself, truly, for the first time."

I just sat and stared at him in wonder. He took my silence for
disbelief, no doubt, but the funny thing is, I did believe him.
His face was different, somehow. Then I twigged. It was his eyes.
They were human. They showed pain and hurt and pleading. The old
Charles's eyes were cold and dead like a shark's, the effect of
gazing too long at his own reflection. I got to my feet nodding
and shook his hand. I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

I got another shock when I got home that evening. Pippa's car was
in the driveway. She was sitting on my porch, two suitcases at
her feet. She smiled as I hurried towards her. I just grabbed her
and hugged her to me for the longest time. At last I let her go.

"James, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I went to stay with my
cousin and her husband in Edinburgh. I finally realised that you
only did this insane thing because of what Charles did to me.
Sally told me that you got really mad when you heard I'd been
involved. I am not proud of what we all did that night but I hear
it seems to have worked out for the best. 

"I also remember you saying you still loved me. I hope that's
true because I've come to stay, if you'll have me, of course"

For the second time that day, I couldn't think of a thing tosay.



-- 
 


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