In a blinding flash of light the temporal transport chamber vanished and I found myself standing within the secret torture chamber
of one of history’s most infamous authors, a man renowned for his diabolical cruelty toward women, I’ve traveled back over 300 years
in time, it’s early evening, April third 1768, Easter Sunday, the place Château Lacoste, my intent, to change history.
Pausing to smile seductively at the surprised French nobleman standing before her, Natalie stated, in nearly flawless
French, “Marquis de Sade, save the prostitute, do me instead.”
Smiling back de Sade responded in English, “An unexpected but rather intriguingly delightful offer, my dear. And I must say you have
the most unusual accent, one I’m at a loss to place.”
Briefly glancing at the riding crop in de Sade’s hand Natalie smiled as she replied, “Let’s just say my accent is of little consequence in this place.”
Seeing Natalie’s interest in his riding crop, de Sade asked, “So, now that you’ve appeared with my secret playroom, whatever am I to do with you?”
Still smiling, Natalie replied, “Do with me? My dear de Sade, why amuse yourself of course, and please dispose of my corpse when you’re
through. And, if I may, a word of advice, you really should consider getting a divorce and as soon as possible taking up residence in
England, before your amusements come to the attention of your wife and the French government. You should also know that the Earl of Wessex
shares your interest in amusement.”