The Ring and the Garter

On a Day when the Weather was Fine, I rented a gondola and escorted the charming Mademoiselle C. to a certain private garden.

The caretaker knew me well. For a few coins, he would unlock the gate and leave the garden in my charge for an entire day, to use as I wished. It was a convenience for which I had often been grateful in the past.

Once alone with the girl, my problems began. For she was so young and so innocent that bold methods would only frighten her. As an example of her childlike simplicity, let me tell you that no sooner had we entered the garden than she began to run here and there among the trees, laughing like a little girl. Indeed, she even challenged me to a race!

"Very well," I said, eager to please her; and being likewise eager to please myself, I had the foresight to add: "But the loser must do anything the winner commands. Do you agree?"

In her naïveté, she replied, "I agree."

You are thinking, I know, that I planned to win the race and then demand payment in the form of love. Not so. This would have been too crude. Rather, I intended to let her win Ring And The Garter(continued from page 56) and submit myself to whatever commands her fancy might dictate. As you will see, my strategy proved fruitful.

We set a goal not too far distant ndash; a shady arbor of latticework and vines ndash; and began to race. As we drew near our goal, I permitted her to gain on me and soon she threw herself upon the cool grass under the arbor. Panting and laughing at the same time, she cried, "I win! You must do as I bid you!"

Kneeling beside her, I said, "Command me."

She thought for a moment, her lips pouting quite prettily the while, and then she removed a ring from her finger. "Turn your back," she said. I obeyed, wondering what she had in mind. "Now turn around," she said soon, and again I obeyed. "I have hidden my ring," she told me, "and you must find it."

This childish sport was not to my liking, and I replied, perhaps somewhat irritably, "Where have you hidden it? In the grass?"

"No," she laughed. "On my person."

In any other woman, I would have interpreted this as an invitation to unbridled license, but I knew that this sweet child meant it in all innocence. Nevertheless, the opportunity now presented filled me with an immoderate, an overwhelming desire.

Does the reader condemn me for my designs on this blameless young virgin? To such censure I can only reply that her beauty, her form, her fragrance, her winsome charm would have been the undoing of the sternest conscience. And my conscience has ever been anything but stern.

I searched her pockets. I searched the folds of her jacket and skirt. I removed her shoes and looked inside them. I explored her stockings. By this time my desire was so great that I felt quite dizzy with it, but still I did no more than continue the delicious search. And, at length, I found the ring.

She had hidden it between two of the most tender guardians ever created, and as I withdrew the ring from its snug hiding place, my hand trembled.

"Why do you tremble?" she asked.

"I tremble with pleasure," I replied, quickly adding, " – at having found the ring. But come ..." I rose to my feet. "You owe me a return match. I perceive another arbor at the opposite end of the garden. Shall that be our goal?"

She assented, and we raced again. This time I made certain I was the winner. Her delightful bosom rose and fell as she strived to catch her breath. "What is your will, o victor?" she smiled. "I shall obey you."

I had in my pocket a gift for her; an intimate gift I had purchased many days before but had not presented because I felt she would think me too forward. As the winner of the second race, I saw an opportunity to give it to her. "I command you," I said with mock solemnity, "to exchange garters with me."

She frowned-but it was not the frown of offended modesty, for she saw nothing improper in my command. "Your garters are so plain," she said.

"Nevertheless, that is my command and you must obey."

Lifting her skirts, she removed her garters and handed them to me. At this, I produced her gift from my pocket: a pair of elegant garters, intricately embroidered. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "How pretty they are!"

"May I-put them on you?"

"Of course you may!"

Trembling anew, I slipped one of the garters over her leg, fighting down the flood of desire that was rising within me. Before I could put on the second one, however, she seized my hand. "Why, there are words on the garter!" she said. "You must read them to me."

It was true. Although I had not taken note of it before, the delicate embroidery was actually a verse. I read it aloud:

Garter most fortunate,

Garter of love,

Blest be you always, for

Heaven's above!

I laughed at this, but in her innocence she did not understand the double meaning of the last line. "It is a pleasant verse," she said, "but why do you laugh?"

This question, I realized with sudden intuition, was the perfect chance I had so long been awaiting. Gently, and with great patience, great tact and great tenderness, I explained to her the meaning of the verse – indeed, of life itself.

The joys of Heaven have not been exaggerated, I assure you.

"The loser," I said, "must do anything the winner commands."