A Promise Made

Michael lay on his side, quietly, hoping beyond hope that Mirielle wasn’t toying with him about calling Lucie as she got up from the bed and vanished down the hall.

Once she had gone, he examined the ligature marks on his body left behind by the dental floss, rubbing at the red marks. A wry smile crossed his lips. If Lucie could undo this situation, there would be payback. Let’s see how any one of those girls would like to be tied to his dick while he fucked another girl. See how they like that. The thought filled him with some measure of glee. Pacing over the disheveled sheets on the bed, Mirielle seemed to be gone for quite a while.

The sound of her returning quickly banished his revenge fantasy thoughts. She entered the room wearing a bathrobe and toweling her hair.

Swallowing hard, “Did you make the call?” he asked meekly.

Pausing in her deliberations, Mirielle smiled and shook her head, “Not yet,” she answered before resume drying her hair.

Letting out his breath slowly, he nodded, “Okay,” he said.

She laughed, dropping her bottom onto the bed near him, shaking the bed with enough force to knock him from his feet. “I need the number silly,” she said, fishing out her cell phone from the robe pocket and holding in her hand while looking at him.

He felt he had memorized the numbers, at least he prayed he remembered them in the right sequence. As he spoke them out, she repeated them.

“Got it,” she said, getting up from the bed.

“But,” he said, reaching a plaintive hand after her as she walked out of the room.

Pulling out one of the chair at the table in her dining room, Mirielle sat down, touching the green phone icon on the screen of her cell.

On the third ring, a female voice answered, “Hello?”

“May I speak to Lucie?” Mirielle asked.

“Speaking,” replied the voice.

“My name is Mirielle, I work for the Heart Group out of the building of the same name. I hope I am not disturbing you,” she introduced.

There was a pause followed by the sound of a soft chuckle. “You found him?” asked the voice.

“If by him you mean Michael Heart, then yes he is currently, how to say this delicately, in my care,” she answered.

“I warned him,” Lucie stated.

“There are a couple of reasons why I am calling, first, I feel connected to this situation in that Michael was taking your grandmother’s flowers and giving them to me as tokens of affection. I honestly didn’t know he was pilfering them until just yesterday when his sister explained it to me,” she explained.

“She is my dedanya, my great grandmother and she bears no ill will toward you,” assured Lucie.

“Thank you. Secondly, he seems to feel maybe you can help fix him, restore him to his former self?” she said.

There was a prolonged silence before Lucie responded, “Perhaps, it is not a simple thing to undo a curse of this magnitude. You say you have him with you?”

“Yes, currently we are at my apartment not too far from Hearst Plaza,” Mirielle replied. “I would very much like to meet with you to discuss this situation in greater depth?”

“Alright, if it’s close to the plaza I can see you within the hour. Can you give me the address?” prompted Lucie.

Providing the details, Mirielle disconnected the call. Getting back up, she sauntered down the hall. Michael was sitting cross legged in front of one of her pillows, looking timid and meek. Despite his frail and battered appearance, she had no doubt, somewhere in his tiny little brain, he was carefully tabulating a list of grievances he intended to seek retribution for.

“Well, she is on her way,” Mirielle announced, sitting back on the edge of the bed.

“Truly?” he asked, heart soaring.

Mirielle frowned. “I said so didn’t I? Do you think I would lie to you? I told you yesterday I would make the call and I did. Frankly, I’m a little put off by your lack of faith in the things I say,” she said.

His expression switched to panic. “No, I’m sorry, I mean I didn’t think you were lying. I am just excited is all,” he tried to explain, stumbling over his words to try and erase any unintended offense he had given.

Reaching over, she pushed him over onto his back, pressing down on his chest with her right index finger. “I know what you’re thinking, what you’re planning,” she stated, serious expression on her face.

Pushing weakly and ineffectively at her finger, “I just want to go back to the way I was before,” he asserted.

“You have experienced too much, too many things that mean you can never go back to the way things were before, no matter how much you might wish it. If you’re restored to your former self, you’ll be bigger and stronger than any of the girls who had their way with you Friday night and Saturday during the day. You will be bigger than me. I know you are harboring some ill will toward them and maybe me, fantasizing about what you might do to punish them or me,

“No,” he replied emphatically, shaking his head back and forth across the sheet. What he wanted was for them to be small and then he would exact his revenge.

She shook her head and chuckled, “You’re not very good at lying. If I get the impression any one of those girls is in danger, or you mean to cause them, or me, harm, that’s a straight up deal breaker,” she warned.

He was on the edge of crying, “You don’t know how they used me,” he sobbed, composure slipping.

Mirielle snorted, “Please, save your self-pity. You are alive and uninjured and have gotten to explore the feminine mystery in ways no one ever has before, well, to my knowledge,” she said.

She was right, he was feeling sorry for himself, powerless and at the mercy of others. He could have been killed by any one of them at any time.

“Tell me the last time you have this much pussy?” she asked with a grin. “Ever?”

He shook his head again.

“Exactly. Now remember, I think you are going to get violent and try and hurt me or any of those girls, it won't be pretty. Do you understand?” she inquired, pressing down a little more firmly to emphasize her point.

“Yes,” he bleated, trying to nod.

Removing her finger, she stood up, getting herself ready to meet with Lucie, pulling on a pair of black yoga pants and dark colored t-shirt.

Michael remained on the bed, trying not to hyperventilate.