The Jeweller – Part 2: Setting

The valuation took hours. She turned him in the light, one angle at a time. She told him, in a low flat voice, exactly what she saw: his posture, his hands, his habit of apologising with his shoulders. She made him recite his own faults, as a catalogue entry, and corrected each omission with a tap of her tweezers on the bench. She had him stand, kneel and hold, and graded each movement aloud. Every comment was exact, every pause deliberate, and under the cool inventory ran a long, patient tenderness that left him dizzy.

Every half hour: "Does Mr Weir wish to continue?" "Yes, Madam." "Say it clearly." "I do. Thank you."

"The Jeweller does not require thanks." But she lowered the loupe and looked at him, and her eyes were bright.

At midnight she laid her tweezers on the velvet and looked at him for a long time.

"Flawless," said Cordelia, softly.

It was the word, and also her verdict, and she meant both. The gloves came off. The loupe came off. She came round the bench and stood in front of him, and then, without warning, she knelt, took his face in both hands and kissed his forehead.

"How are you?"

"Graded," said Anthony, laughing shakily. "Better than I expected."

"You were perfect." She sat on the floor beside his stool and drew a shawl round them. "A very rare stone."

"Is there a certificate?"

"I'm preparing one." She smiled. "It will have a great many conditions. And a very detailed appendix."

"I'll read it," said Anthony.

"You will wear it," said Cordelia, and the lamps hummed on over the velvet.

More consensual femdom stories: Velvet Contract · Silk and Steel · Gentle Hands, Gentle Femdom