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The room smelled different. “New perfume?” I asked.“No, it’s a room fragrance, saffron tangerine,” she said. “It’s supposed to be the smell of Africa.” Her comment was so matter-of-fact, but the aroma didn’t do that much for me. We had been in western Kenya and among the beautiful peoples of the Kikuyu, Luo, and Kalenjin, but this smell did not smells take me there. This had to be something else.“Does it work for you?” I asked.“Not even close,” she said. When she was in the shower, I picked up the book. Turning to the table of contents, my eyes fell on a story entitled “Saffron.” I could still hear the water running as I read the story of a sixteen-year-old girl named Fay who was both beautiful and innocent. She easily fell under the spell of the much older Albert, a man in his forties who had sophisticated ways, a good family name, and a large home with many attractive female black servants. Fay was not used to such luxury or kindness from everyone, including Albert. He visited her. I waited, letting her compose herself, calm herself. And then I spoke again: "Alexander always asks me to punish the girl for her misbehaviour, and teach her a lesson she won't forget. You've had your punishment." I paused. "And so now it's time for your lesson. Lie on the bed, face down, hands behind your head."A look of panic crossed her face, and she drew backwards: "But I thought... I mean... I have learnt my lesson, sir. I don't need any more. Please..." And your refusal to do what I've just told you classes as 'full co-operation', does it?" She bolted forward, face down, and I strode along the side of the bed. I extracted a pillow from beneath the covers, and lifted her hips, sliding it under her.I made sure she heard my belt unbuckle, heard it slither out. A much-used belt; thick black harness leather, carefully stitched. She knew all about the belt, of course - she'd told me about her father strapping her sister; now, at last, it would be her turn.I folded it double."Thank me.
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