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Chapter 29 – Do Butterflies Have Teeth?
The trip back from Betsy-Jo's fortuitously avoided the start of evening peak hour. Charlotte and Jane remained silent during the trip. Charlotte had learnt a great deal, not only about herself but also about Mr Campbell.
For herself, she no longer dreaded the flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach. Her time with Lisa had assured Charlotte that she was neither outlandish nor depraved. The self-fear and loathing that had coerced her into confronting Mr Campbell with her darkest fears was now behind her. However, now a daunting challenge faced her.
Confronting Mr Campbell.
Charlotte was unsure how to approach him. He had made it abundantly clear that he regarded her behaviour as an aberration, as something to be squashed and suppressed. Yet Charlotte was now convinced that how she felt was anything but deviant and sick. How could she convince him otherwise?
That problem sat prominently in her mind as the Jaguar pulled up outside the apartment building. The comic routine of disembarking from the car now repeated itself. Jane stepped from the back seat of the car as soon as the chauffeur opened her door and pulled on Charlotte's toddler harness. She clambered across the leather upholstery following the red headed psychologist into the lobby. A few people were walking past on the sidewalk, each stared in turn at the sixteen-year-old in her virginal white dress, tights and Mary Janes. Charlotte by this stage ignored the passers-by; she was too busy composing herself for the upcoming encounter.
The elevator opened for the two women and Jane swiped the security card over the scanner to grant them access to the penthouse. As the lift ascended Charlotte felt her apprehension growing inside her. Eventually the lift ceased its ascent and the doors opened out onto the foyer of the apartment, its soothing water feature imposed a modicum of calm on the angst-ridden girl.
Mr Campbell must have been informed of their arrival, for he met them in the foyer. A curious look sat on his worried face. Jane had been less than forthcoming in discussing where she was taking Charlotte, he was clearly curious as to what the two woman had been up to.
He welcomed them back and suggested they all take afternoon tea in the sitting room. Jane replied promptly for both of them and the three of them walked into a room that Charlotte had only briefly walked past before. Soft lighting lit the room in the absence of any natural light, family portraits, photos and tasteful early-period impressionist art hung from the walls. A coffee table sat in the middle of the room, a decanter of Mr Campbell's favourite brandy sitting in the centre. Four dark leather couches sat arranged in a semi circle about the table.
Each of them took a seat, Jane sitting between Mr Campbell and Charlotte while Bosker materialized to ask them whether they wanted drinks. Jane asked for a chilled chardonnay while Charlotte remained cautious and asked for some coffee. Bosker disappeared to fetch the drinks while an uneasy silence settled over the room.
Mr Campbell finally broke the silence moments before Charlotte could no longer bear the quiet: "Well, how did your outing go? Do you mind if I ask what the two of you got up to?"
Charlotte was considering when Jane beat her to it. "I'm sure Charlotte will fill you in later on Frank. For the moment though there are a few things that I feel I must say as a professional psychologist.
"I'm sure you've meant well in how you've handled Charlotte's arrival here, but the way you have been treating her is inappropriate –"
"I haven't done anything. In fact, I resent –" Mr Campbell interrupted, clearly outraged at what he considered to be an unfounded accusation.
"Frank, let me finish first… Thankyou." Mr Campbell closed his mouth and let the red head continue: "It inappropriate Frank because you've been punishing Charlotte for something that she cannot change. You may as well whip a leopard for having spots, you're not going to change anything, actually what you've been doing is entirely counter productive."
"What are you talking about Jane? I asked you to talk to Charlotte because she thinks that something's wrong with her."
Charlotte recognised that she should step into the conversation: "But there's nothing wrong with me Mr Campbell."
"Whatever do you mean Charlotte? Only last night you were crying about being how you thought you were a freak." He replied, switching his attention to Charlotte.
"That was last night, but today I met some people and saw some things that have made me realise that I'm just as normal as the next person." For the first time in days she steeled herself to meet his blazing gaze. His eyes pierced her, searching her soul, searing into her brain.
Jane interrupted this pseudo staring contest. "Frank, Charlotte shows all the classic signs of being a submissive woman. I knew from almost the first moment I spoke to her. Our outing has reinforced that view in my mind."
Mr Campbell's eyes remained fixed on Charlotte, yet he addressed his words to Jane: "Go on…"
"In light of that discovery, everything makes a perverse sort of sense. Ever since Charlotte arrived you instituted a strict behavioural regime. Correct?"
"Yes."
"Problem is that your regime has resulted in Charlotte undergoing her sexual awakening. She's discovering who she is, and as they say: 'the apple never falls far from the tree.'"
Mr Campbell raised his eyebrows questioningly toward Charlotte: "Is that right, is it?"
Fighting a burning desire to break from his stare Charlotte replied. "I guess so."
"So what's your point Jane? Charlotte's still full of these disgusting thoughts. What exactly have you achieved today? I asked you to help my little girl and this is all you can come up with? That my behaviour is inappropriate?" Mr Campbell now turned to face Jane.
"Frank –"
"No Jane, be quiet. I can't have Charlotte running around like some gangbanger. What will people think of her? What would her mother say if she were alive today? You didn't see her when she came here: 'Fuck this, fuck that'. Never a 'please' from her. Not a single piece of polite language. Thankfully that's changing. Now you're trying to tell me that what I'm doing is inappropriate? Get out of my house."
"Not until I'm finished. What this is all about Frank, is that these feelings of Charlotte's are far from inappropriate. How Charlotte feels and reacts to what you've been doing to her is perfectly natural."
"I won't accept that." Now he turned to face Charlotte directly: "your mother tried to tell me the same thing, but I simply won't accept it. No-one could possibly enjoy what she wanted me to do to her." Mr Campbell spat out those final words in disgust.
Jane continued: "Yet that hasn't stopped you from performing on Charlotte a number of the things that Jeanine wanted you to do to her…"
"How dare you - How dare you! You have no comprehension at all do you Jane. Nor do you Charlotte. You march in here after spending the morning traipsing across the city and suddenly you think you can understand completely what I had to cope with. The pair of you are ludicrous. You have no idea. If you think I've even touched upon the horrific things she talked about then you have another thing coming.
"'The things she wanted me to do to her', as you so eloquently put it Jane, are so far removed from anything that I have done to little Charlotte here, that it beggars belief. I'm not even going to discuss this topic with you. You have no comprehension."
"Frank – " Jane began again.
"No Jane, no more."
"Just listen to me –"
Charlotte felt that it was time to intervene: "Stop it! Both of you!"
The two of them surprisingly shut up as Charlotte raised her voice: "Jane – enough! I can handle this by myself. Mr Campbell, I'm sorry for all this. I'd like to talk to you privately about it if I could."
Jane quietly whispered to Charlotte: "I don't think this is such a good idea Charlotte."
"Shut up! Look, this is my life we're talking about here, my feelings, who I am. I'm sick of having other people dictate how I live. I'm sick of being pushed around, I'm sick of being told who I am, whether I'm sick or normal or whatever! I'm fucking sick of it Jane. You're almost as bad as he is you know. If anyone is going to work out who I am - it is ME for fuck's sake!"
"Charlotte –" Mr Campbell warned her sternly, she ratcheted her fury, and her language down a level or two.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have sworn. What I am saying Jane, is that I will deal with this with Mr Campbell by myself, on my terms. Thankyou for your help, I really do appreciate it, but I think I need to do this myself."
"Really, I should stay, he might –"
"No Jane. Now. Thankyou, but I'll be fine."
"But –"
"Look, if you're that worried, I'm sure Mr Campbell will let me call you on a phone later tonight to let you know I'm okay. Would that be okay Mr Campbell?"
Mr Campbell regarded the newly forthright Charlotte, he also looked at the frantic and furious Jane. Slowly he came to a conclusion of his own. He nodded gently.
Jane took hold of her purse and rose to her feet, before she left the room she handed Charlotte the bag of magazines and DVDs from the sex shop. She stopped briefly to kiss Charlotte lightly on the forehead and then regarded Mr Campbell with a withering look. Charlotte accepted the bag gratefully, and simultaneously kept a firm eye on Mr Campbell.
Finally the red headed psychologist left the sitting room with Mr Campbell and Charlotte looking across the room at each other carefully. Moments passed, Bosker entered with their drinks and carefully set them down upon the table. Noticing the apparent departure of Jane he left the wine glass on his tray and silently departed the room whilst the two remaining figures cast appraising stares across the quiet room.
"Mr Campbell. It's time for some honesty. From both of us. This simply can't go on.
"I've come to realise a few things recently; one of them is that until now I've never known who I really am. I still don't know entirely, but I'm not Charlie, nor am I who you want Charlotte to be. I am me, and I'm still discovering just what that is. But most importantly, I would never have discovered that if it wasn't for you.
"So, I feel I owe you something, but at the same time things can't go on as they have, that bit I think Jane is right about. What has been happening is not right, things have to change and they have to change on terms agreeable to both of us." Charlotte paused for a moment, seeking acknowledgement of her point from Mr Campbell.
He indicated that she should continue.
"Until today I wanted to escape, I wanted to run away back home. I'd even hidden away some stuff to help me get out of here." Mr Campbell didn't even flinch, perhaps he had been aware of her preparations the whole time.
"Now I'm not so sure. I think I want to stay here… with you.
"I've thought long and hard about this. It hasn't been an easy decision to make. So what I'm proposing is this. I will give up trying to escape and I will promise to follow your instructions, all of them, but some of our rules have to change first."
"Go on. I'm listening."
"I met someone today, someone very special, someone like me. She lives with her boyfriend in a full time BDSM relationship. She taught me a lot of stuff and some of it is important to us."
"What do you mean us, Charlotte?"
"Oh come on Mr Campbell. Us. You and me. I don't know what your intentions are, but I can guess. When I first arrived you told me that you were going to 'rectify' my upbringing. But there's more to it than that isn't there? The dresses, the punishments, the humiliation – more than just a part of this is for you - isn't it? You enjoy inflicting them on me don't you?"
He regarded her for a long moment before quietly stating: "Charlotte, there is no 'you and me', nor is there a 'you and I' which I think you will find is the appropriate English in this instance.
"I am your guardian and I will do as I see fit. These childish notions of romance are nothing but your imagination running wild." His words hit Charlotte like a train. Was he telling the truth, or was he merely denying to himself what had been patently obvious to her?
"My patience is wearing thin with you right at this moment. You've said that the rules have to change. Why exactly? All I can see is that you continue to be an undisciplined, disobedient little girl. I don't know what garbage Jane has filled your head with but it was obviously a mistake to ask her to help you. Clearly you won't acknowledge that the thoughts you are having are wrong, therefore I am going to have to devise some new approach to this problem."
No. Charlotte thought to herself. No. This has to stop. It was time for a different tack.
"I don't think so Mr Campbell."
"What did you say?" He shuffled forward in his chair, readying himself to rise to his feet.
"I said I don't think so. Earlier I said I had met someone special, like me. We talked to each other and it became clear to us both that what you are doing is abuse. There are laws against that. We also agreed that if I didn't contact her, that she would report you to the police." It was a complete fabrication, a total sham; Lisa and Charlotte had discussed no such thing. But Charlotte hadn't imagined that Mr Campbell would be so pigheaded, and she hoped that the lie would give her the leverage she so desperately needed.
"You what?" He uttered the words, mainly to himself and sat back in his chair.
"If I don't talk to her by a particular time, then she will have protective services banging down your door. So you will listen to what I have to say."
The seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity while Charlotte waited for his reply to her ultimatum. Finally he spoke, calmly, quietly: "Alright. What do you want?"
"I don't want much. In fact I don't want anything to change around here except a couple of things. First, I want a safe word."
"A what?" His voice rang with incredulity, a rapid change from the calm of a few seconds ago.
"Oh please Mr Campbell, don't play coy with me. I know all about your trips to Besty Jo's and Leanne. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I want a safe word. Something I can use if I feel uncomfortable or scared. A word I can use to stop whatever it is that you're doing to me that I think is dangerous or too much."
"You know about Leanne?" He asked, clearly troubled by her knowledge of his visits to one of Betsy-Jo's pain sluts.
"Yes I do. So now you can see how I very much doubt that there is 'nothing going on here'. Particularly given your regular visits to Leanne that have strangely ceased since I arrived here."
"Enough! Alright Charlotte. Please go away. Go to your bedroom right now. I'll talk to you after dinner."
"So you'll think about the safe word?"
"Yes."
Charlotte stood up slowly and gracefully walked out of the room, as she turned the corner into the hallway she almost thought she heard him mutter under his breath: "That and a lot of other things as well…"
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