House Rules (20 page)

‘Gretchen here is one of Margaret’s young ladies. She stayed at the country house where you now dwell for something like two years before she came to work for me. So you two will have something in common.’

Gretchen looked suddenly at Richard as if seeing him for the first time. Her face flushed. Richard felt his own face grow warm as he imagined what she had learnt with Margaret. They looked at one another silently, until Frau Bern broke the tableau.

‘Pamela here has been watching you. I think she has noticed how erect you carry yourself. I wonder if you would mind explaining the matter to her?’ Frau Bern warned Richard with a glance to remain silent.

Gretchen grew even redder of face. The flush, Richard saw, extended down her throat, where a pulse suddenly beat.

‘Come, Gretchen, speak up. I will not ask you again,’ Frau Bern said.

The young woman looked once at her employer, and then at Richard, as if to let him know that she had no choice but to obey. ‘Very well, Madame,’ she said. To Richard she said, ‘I am wearing a saddle strap, which makes it very painful to bend or stoop.’ Her voice was almost a whisper, and her embarrassment was obviously acute.

Richard looked closely at Gretchen, but could see nothing out of the ordinary about her except her carriage. He looked questioningly at Frau Bern, who spoke again to the young woman.

‘Our visitor is not familiar with the terminology. Perhaps you had better show her, please,’ she said. The command behind the polite phraseology was clear to both Richard and Gretchen.

Gretchen took off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. Then, carefully looking past Richard, she reached behind her back to unbutton her skirt. Her legs, in the black tights, were long and slender, and Richard was unable to tear his eyes away as she let the garment fall around her feet. She stepped out of it and began to unbutton her blouse. Gretchen wore a pale-green lace bra, sheer enough to see her nipples through the cups. They were not erect, suggesting even more clearly her embarrassment.

Richard spoke. ‘Gretchen, you don’t need to continue.’

Frau Bern cut in. ‘Yes, she does. I give the orders here.’

Gretchen, however, carried on as if neither of them had spoken. The blouse came off, and Richard could see she wore a harness of soft leather that came over her shoulders from behind, crossed between her breasts and became a single strap that continued down to her belly. Richard could see the darker line of the strap beneath her tights. It went between her legs, seeming to be drawn very tightly into her crotch, judging by the way it bit into her flesh. Gretchen hesitated, looking briefly at her employer for further instructions.

‘Take it all off,’ Frau Bern said.

The young woman again reached behind her back to unhook her bra. The clingy material fell away, allowing her full breasts to spring free. Richard felt his cock stiffen in sudden excitement as he saw the thin red lines in her flesh. He knew enough by now to recognise the marks of the whip. Gretchen had endured having her breasts lashed. How had that felt, he wondered, and how had she reacted? Had it been torture for her, or did she share Helena’s ability to transmute the pain into sexual arousal? He shifted in his chair in order to conceal the bump of his erection from the two women in the room.

Gretchen, meanwhile, had begun to peel her tights down her legs. When she stood nude before them, Richard noticed that her flush was an all-over one, her skin pink with it. She stood erect as before, her back straight and her arms by her sides. She was not looking at either of them.

‘Turn around,’ Frau Bern ordered.

Gretchen turned her back to them, and Richard could see the rest of her saddle strap. It ran between her buttocks and rose up her back to meet the shoulder straps. In the small of her back there was a buckle to adjust the tension, with a small padlock to prevent her loosening the harness. The whole contrivance had the finished look that only a skilled leather worker could produce, and Richard wondered if Helena had made it.

‘Turn around and face us, Gretchen,’ Frau Bern said. To Richard she said, ‘You can see why she stands so straight now. If she bends her back, the strap is drawn more tightly against her crotch. She wears it every day as a reminder to her of who is in charge. In the same way,’ she continued, ‘that you are reminded by your ring and chain that Margaret is in charge of you.’

Her knowledge of his own arrangements took Richard completely by surprise. He had not given any thought to the possibility that Margaret had told Hannelore Bern about that, yet when he thought of it, it was only logical that she had. It would be one way of identifying him to the person on the other end, and of letting that same person know who was giving the orders to whom.

‘Now that Gretchen has shown us her little secret, I think it would be only right for you to show her yours. And I must admit I am rather curious myself. So stand up and take off your skirt for us.’

Richard stood slowly, flushing in his turn at the thought of showing what had been done to him, but never considering a refusal. Margaret would be sure to learn of it if he refused, and would be sure to take steps to punish him on his return. Hannelore Bern might take a refusal badly as well, and she seemed to be the sort of woman who could punish others as easily as Margaret did. He unbuttoned the waistband of his skirt and let it fall to the floor as Gretchen had done. Then he lifted the hem of the black nylon slip to reveal the chain dangling between his thighs.

‘Gretchen, go over to Pamela and give her the Crocodile Dundee test,’ Frau Bern ordered.

‘Which test, Madame?’ Gretchen asked.

‘Never mind,’ Frau Bern said. ‘Just go over to Pamela and feel how the chain is secured.’

Gretchen flushed again but did as she was told. Her eyes widened, and she gasped in surprise when she touched Richard’s balls. She let the chain fall as if it had burnt her and turned away in embarrassment.

Hannelore Bern laughed quietly at her employee’s discomfiture. ‘You see now that you are not the only one who has a hard time, Gretchen. Margaret expects her people to do anything she asks.’ To them both she said, ‘Get dressed. We are going to finish early today and go out to my chateau. There we will have the privacy to get better acquainted with one another.’ Hannelore watched as Gretchen put on her clothes.

Richard picked up his skirt, but hesitated before putting it on. ‘May I use the toilet before we leave?’ he asked.

Hannelore Bern pointed to the file storage room. ‘There is a toilet in there. Be quick about it.’

Inside the smaller room, Richard saw another door which had to be the toilet. When he was finished, he readjusted the tights and corselet before putting the skirt back on. As he left the toilet, he saw that the file room also contained a bank of video monitors, which he guessed were part of the bank’s closed circuit-security camera system.

When he returned to the office, he saw that Gretchen was dressed again. Hannelore Bern pushed a button and spoke into an intercom on the desk, ordering the chauffeur to bring the car around to the private entrance of the bank and to wait for her. Without another word, she led the way to the door and out into a courtyard which formed a private entrance to her office. There was a chauffeur-driven Mercedes waiting, the motor running and the driver standing by the door to help his employer in. He said nothing about his extra passengers. The gates opened to an electronic signal from the car, much as those at Margaret’s estate. They drove out into the streets of Basle and on out of the city.

The country house of Hannelore Bern was much grander than Margaret’s. There was the same high wall and electronically controlled gates, the same long drive from the road, and the same air of a guarded fortress. But there were real guards too, walking through the trees and over the lawns. Real guards with real dogs. It would be much more difficult to escape from this house than from Margaret’s. The chateau itself was of stone, a villa with a columned portico, a vast building in the Roman-revival style so admired by Albert Speer. The grounds stretched so far that the enclosing wall could not be seen on the far side. A stand of mature trees, really a small forest, grew down the mountainside and marched almost to the door of a small cottage and a large barn in the distance.

It was towards this distant cottage that Hannelore Bern directed the chauffeur. Richard guessed that these might be the guest quarters, and he was partly right. They all got out in front of the cottage, Gretchen carefully keeping her back straight to ease the strap running between her legs. Richard was once more conscious of the chain dangling between his own legs as he slid across the seat and got out. The chauffeur opened the door for Frau Bern and stood aside as they entered. There was a look of speculation in his eyes as he glanced at Gretchen, but he said nothing.

‘Pamela, where are you staying in Basle?’

‘At the
Alte Hannover
in Bahnhof Strasse,’ he replied.

‘Give your key to Gunter here,’ she ordered. Turning to the chauffeur, Hannelore said, ‘Go to the hotel, collect Fraulein Rhodes’s belongings and bring them back here.’

Hannelore Bern dismissed him, and as soon as he had gone she became once more the mistress among her slaves. ‘Gretchen, go to the barn and bring back your harness.’

Gretchen nodded and departed silently.

‘Pamela,’ she went on, with an ironic smile, ‘you can make tea for us. Come with me.’

Hannelore Bern led him towards the adjoining cottage. ‘We are going to have some sex games, we three,’ she explained. ‘Margaret says you are quite an interesting person, adaptable, malleable. She says you are learning to submit. We shall see. I like submissive people: they are so much easier to deal with. Though I can deal with almost any kind.’

Richard didn’t doubt it.

‘Go through into the kitchen,’ Frau Bern directed, with a wave of her hand. ‘Make some snacks for us, and something to drink. Something to sustain us through some strenuous exercise.’

Richard went through into the kitchen, while Hannelore disappeared towards the rooms at the rear of the cottage. The kitchen was large and airy, with tiled floors and oak cabinets. The ceiling was high, with varnished exposed beams from which hung the cooking utensils. Through the curtained windows, he saw Gretchen walking towards the barn, with her characteristic straight-backed stride. She went into the barn through a side door, and presently emerged carrying a leather holdall. Richard set about making sandwiches. Gretchen came in through the kitchen door, and he could see by the pinkness of her cheeks and the shortness of her breath that she was excited. She was obviously looking forward to what was to come, and he wondered what she had in the holdall to affect her so strongly.

She started to speak to Richard, then abruptly looked beyond him. At the same time, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps: the distinct clack of high-heeled shoes. A transformed Hannelore Bern entered the kitchen from the house side, and Richard forgot about Gretchen as he stared at her. She had shed her sober business clothes and stood before them in a shiny black leather corselet. It hugged her figure, and Richard felt himself growing erect as he stared at her. It was impossible to take his eyes away. Her breasts were pushed up and forward aggressively, her already small waist was almost wasplike now, her sex was both covered and yet somehow emphasised by the tight leather between her legs. She wore dark grey tights and black shoes with stiletto heels to complete the effect.

Hannelore Bern was at the same time immensely charged with sexuality and beyond reach of any contact. The tight leather garment both offered her to view and protected her from any approach. Richard felt his breath grow short as he stared at her. Naked, she would be just a beautiful, desirable and available woman. The world was full of them. But, garbed in this tight leather sheath, she was menacing and impregnable as well. The effect was stunning. And daunting. Hannelore Bern carried a whip in her hand, the end trailing on the floor.

‘Gretchen,’ she said, ‘come with me.’ To Richard she added, ‘Come back into the front room when you have finished here.’

Richard finished making the sandwiches, found a tray, and arranged the food on it before going back into the front room. Gretchen was nude. Hannelore Bern was in the act of unlocking the padlock that secured her saddle strap. When the strap was loosened, the younger woman relaxed her taut muscles and gave a low groan of relief. She slipped out of the strap and laid it on the sofa beside the holdall she had brought from the barn. Without being told, she opened it and began to take out a different type of harness, more elaborate, more suitable for a horse, it seemed to Richard, than a woman. Yet there was no doubt that it was intended for Gretchen. She was flushed and short of breath as she finished laying the straps out on the sofa.

‘Pamela,’ Frau Bern said, with another of her ironic smiles, ‘you and Gretchen are going to play pony girls. Unfortunately, we don’t have a harness prepared for you, but I’ll make do with what we have. But first we’ll have some tea and something to eat. That’s so much more civilised.’

Gretchen looked even more tense at Hannelore’s words. Richard guessed that she was already aroused by the presence of her harness, and wanted to get on with it. By forcing her to wait, Hannelore was deliberately toying with her. When Hannelore sat down, she crossed her legs, causing Richard to become aware of his own excitement. He could feel his cock growing erect as she swung her leg idly. Richard and Gretchen drank their tea in a tense silence. Gretchen nibbled at a sandwich, obviously preoccupied. Hannelore was quite relaxed, smiling from time to time as she dawdled over hers.

Finally she was finished. As she stood, she said to Richard, ‘First you will help me fit Gretchen into her harness, and then I will deal with you.’ She beckoned Richard to her.

Gretchen stood still, silent and expectant, a fine sheen of sweat now breaking out on her face as she waited to be harnessed. Her nipples were taut and crinkly with her excitement. Richard wondered how many women who loved bondage, pain and submission he was going to encounter before this was over. If it ever was going to be over. He didn’t want this to end, he admitted to himself. And, if Helena meant what she had said, it needn’t. He wondered just how many women and men walked the streets looking for what he had stumbled upon, and never found it. He was one of the lucky ones.