The Freshman - Chapter 1

Smith Hempstone III was excited to be starting college life in Washington, D.C., well away from his native Roanoke, Virginia and two-faced Ginette Frum who had called him a pervert because he had asked her to fulfill his boyhood fantasy of being tied up and peed on by a woman.

Relieved to have completed his registration at George Washington University (GWU), he headed for the flat he had seen advertised in the Washington Post. What had caught his eye was the statement, "Ideal for a college freshman." The address was only four blocks from GWU, and not far from the White House. Actually, GWU's proximity to the White House was one of the things that had drawn him to the school. There was something about the power that the Presidential mansion represented that appealed to his latent sense of inferiority.

Although the Hempstones were considered one of the First Families of Virginia, more commonly know as FFVs, he had never had that sense of being an aristocrat held by so many in his family. His early years had been dominated by a strict and unforgiving nanny, and his entire life had been so sheltered and controlled that he had a feeling of pure liberation over being on his own so near the seat of American power.

The flat in the advertisement turned out to be an old brownstone in the middle of a block that had seen much of America's history. He stared up at it and started fantasizing that the woman who might fulfill his darkest desires might be within.

Shrugging off such wishful thinking, he climbed the steps to the door. But, when the commanding presence of a tall, stylishly dressed and stately woman in her mid thirties confronted him in the brownstone's small hallway, he had the momentary feeling that his fantasy might actually come true.

The woman exuded the heat of a furnace. Her black pants suit appeared to have been specially tailored and her scarlet silk scarf reeked of the far Pacific. There was something feline about her face, and she wore a rich red lipstick on full sensual lips. Her flowing hair was coal black.

Her eyes bored into Smith's and, for a moment, he was frightened. He felt like running, but before he could act on that impulse, her voice, which was simultaneously soothing and severe, stopped him as she said, "I am Madam Kendra. I am from San Francisco, but I own this building now, and I live and work upstairs. Do I take it that you are a freshman at GWU, young man?"

Smith, realizing that if he was allowed to live here, this woman would be his landlady, muttered through an increasingly dry mouth, "Yes, ma'm."

She gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Good. I will show you the lower flat, unless, of course, you came here to merely look at me."
Thrown totally off balance, Smith muttered, "Yes, I mean, no, I mean you are wonderful to look at, but, yes, I would like to see the flat."

The music in Madam Kendra's laughter had a sinister undertone. "Of course you would. Come with me."

They walked past stairs that obviously led to the flat above where Madam Kendra lived and worked. Smith couldn't help but wonder just what kind of work she did? But, before he had time to give it much thought he found himself in the middle of a fine old room with a bay window and a fireplace that had seen many fires. The fireplace did it for him. Or was it the fireplace? Actually, it was the presence of Madam Kendra. He turned to her and said, "Thank you. I would very much like to live here."

She studied him for a full minute. Finally, "Yes, I think you will do. Although my flat, which will be above you, is fully sound proofed because of certain practices I find it necessary to engage in, I will expect you to maintain a proper sense of decorum."
Puzzled, "Proper sense of decorum?"

Impatiently, "You will behave yourself unless I indicate otherwise. I assume that you have references and I will, of course, require two months rent in advance."

Rendered almost speechless by the woman's impact on him, Smith gurgled, "Two months?"

Madam Kendra gave him an enigmatic smile as, a slight edge to her words, she said, "Yes, my dear. Two months." She paused. Then, added, "But I think that you will do very nicely. You may move in tomorrow, if you wish."

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