One Week in the Private House (15 page)

'Concentrate on me, please, not the TV,' Dave said. 'You can watch that over and over again, if you want. Shall I make you a copy of the edited highlights?'

'No thanks. Just do that again, only more gently. That's better. Do they know they're being filmed?'

'It's hard to tell. The ones who have been here before know, of course; some of the others must guess. But what can they do? If they're here, in the Private House, they're already in too deep to get out. In for a penny, in for a pound: they might as we|l lie back and enjoy being captured on videotape. The field operatives know which guests are newcomers, of course.'

'Field operatives?'

'Ye gods, you're persistent.'

Tell me or I'll stop playing with your lovely big knob.'

'You win. Emma and Clarice are field operatives - Miss Howard and the Headmistress. They organise the routines; I just film the show, and I'm on hand to jump in if anything goes wrong.'

'You're certainly on hand today, Dave. How much more of this treatment can John Thomas take?'

'I don't know, Jem. Perhaps you'd better give him a big sloppy kiss.'

'What a wicked idea. Are you sure you wouldn't like me to spank your bare bottom, you naughty boy?'

'Quite sure, thanks. And we're going to have to kiss and say goodbye, anyway. I have to adjust all the gear for shooting a history lesson in Room Nine. Come on: get up, Jem, I have to move.'

Jem kissed him, stood up, and made for the door. 'So long,' she said, 'I guess I'd better continue my tour of the estate. See you around!'

'I hope so,' Dave said. 'If you want to know the time, ask a Security man.'

Security, thought Jem as she descended the stairs and walked back to the MG. Where would I find the Security headquarters? Inside the walls of the old castle, that's where. Let's go and take a look.

She pointed the little roadster back towards the House, but instead of turning towards the courtyard she continued along the track that led north alongside the stream and towards the mound on which stood the battered remains of the castle's square keep. At the base of the mound the road turned sharply to the right, and the MG stopped at a gap in the castle's curtain wall. A wooden barrier
extended
across the gap, but the Security sentry recognised Jem, lifted the barrier, and waved her on, into a vast
hexagonal
yard full of huts, vehicles, and leather-clad Security personnel. She was inside the walls of the oldest part of the Private House.

* * *

Julia sat on the wooden bar and plucked at her sweat-soaked garments. She was alone in the gymnasium, which was one of several in the sports complex that sprawled at the base of the old castle's Sallyport Tower. In the distance she could hear the shrieks and laughter of her fellow trainees in the showers, and from elsewhere the erratic ricochets of a ball game.

Unarmed combat training had been surprisingly enjoyable, she reflected. Instructor Goltz was a hard task-mistress whose plimsole-slap was as vicious as her tongue, but she had taken a lot of trouble to explain and demonstrate the techniques to Julia, and Julia had found that she had rapidly picked up the rudiments of judo throws and the disarming of attackers. Although she was the newest recruit, and was smaller, slimmer and older than most of the rest of the class, she had found that by the end of the session she had been throwing her opponents more often than they had been throwing her. Instructor Goltz had commented on her progress, and in the last few minutes it had been Geoffrey, a skinny lad with a slight stammer, rather than Julia who had been the victim in the game of chase and kick that, the other trainees told Julia, was a regular feature of Goltz's class.

Goltz had told her to stay in the gym for some individual tuition; and Julia had been rather pleased with herself until several of the trainees had whispered comments like 'tough luck' as they had escaped to the safety of the showers. Now, as she cast her eyes round the bleak and clinical walls, she wondered what the Instructor had in store for her; and then she spotted a figure standing in the viewing gallery.

How long's she been up there? Julia wondered. That's not a Security uniform ... I know! It's the Master's new consort. She looks terrific. I wish I could get out of here. I don't know what Goltz is up to, but with that woman watching .. . It's going to be so humiliating! Oh God, she's definitely seen me; she's waving.

Half-heartedly, Julia returned the greeting. The auburn-haired beauty in the gallery grinned. Julia turned away. Instructor Goltz crashed through the swing doors.

Goltz was a big woman, tall and athletic and full of energy. She fixed Julia with a steady stare and advanced slowly towards her on the balls of her feet. In her right fist she continuously flexed the battered plimsole that was never out of her grasp. Julia stood up and stepped hesitantly backwards.

'Don't run away, little one,' Goltz said, smiling broadly. 'We're going to have some more fun. You've still a lot to learn.'

Julia stood still, trying to control her rising panic. Goltz was so much bigger and stronger than her; Goltz could do anything. Julia didn't care to look across to the gallery; she just prayed that the Master's consort had gone and that no one would witness her fear and weakness.

Goltz's helmet of cropped blonde hair advanced relentlessly. The Instructor stopped in front of Julia and stood with her plimsole-flexing hand behind her back. 'Now then, girlie,' she said, 'it's just you and me. And I'm one-handed, see? So come on: attack me!'

Maybe it will be all right, Julia thought. Maybe she just wants to teach me some more moves. And Julia reached for Goltz's collar and swept her right foot towards Goltz's legs.

The Instructor had moved; she had side-stepped and advanced and turned before Julia could begin to regain her balance.

Julia felt herself being lifted into the air as Goltz's hand grabbed the waistband of her track suit trousers and Julia flailed her arms, attempting to stay upright. There was a sound of tearing cotton and Julia was sliding head-first towards the mat, naked from the waist down, leaving her trousers in Goltz's clenched fist.

Julia lay on the floor. There was an ominous silence. She lifted herself to her hands and knees; Goltz's plimsole splatted against her buttocks and sent her sprawling. Tears filled her eyes.

'Come on, girlie,' Goltz said through gritted teeth. 'On your feet! I haven't finished with you yet; not by a long way. Up! And come at me again.'

Julia dragged herself to her feet, turned, and stepped towards the Instructor. Goltz jumped aside, tripped Julia's feet, grabbed her arm as she fell, and twisted her wrist up to the back of her neck, clutching a handful of Julia's black curls in the same fist.

Julia yelped. She staggered as Goltz thrust her forward, bending her over the wooden bar that crossed the gym; once again the plimsole crashed against her bare backside, shaking the bar with the force of the blow.

Goltz's hand released her. She shook tears from her eyes and breathed deeply, hanging limply over the bar. She felt the plimsole probing the crease between her buttocks. 'Lovely bum,' Goltz said. 'I think you need a great deal more training, girlie. Stand up or I'll whack you again.'

You'll whack me anyway, Julia thought, and threw herself backwards towards the sound of Goltz's gloating voice. The back of her head struck something hard. She reeled, and her eyes focused at last on Goltz, standing with her hand to her chin and a dazed expression on her face.

Julia moved backward, warily, a step at a time. The exit was on the far side of the gym, beyond the Instructor. A look of concentrated malice replaced the surprise in Goltz's glittering blue eyes. Julia ran.

Made it! she thought, as her hand touched the door. And then a hand grabbed her shirt and she found herself whirling in a circle that ended in a collision with the wall-bars. She dropped to the floor, and felt herself being dragged to the centre of the gym. She tried to stand, but her legs were kicked from beneath her. An arm went under her torso, and lifted her to her knees. She tried to scurry away, and the plimsole slammed upwards between her legs, lifting her and then propelling her face-down across the floor.

She lay still. She was past hope, but past desperation too: nothing mattered anymore, except to get away, curl up, find somewhere warm. She started to drag herself across the floor.

A foot stood on her spine. 'Oh!' Goltz said, in a friendly voice. 'You'd like some more, would you?' And Julia could only wail helplessly as she felt the arm around her waist lifting her to her knees again. She didn't try to move; she waited for the blow to fall.

But the Instructor didn't strike immediately. There was a long silence, during which Julia could hear only her own racing heartbeat. She remained on her hands and knees, her hair brushing the wooden floor. She wanted to close her legs together, at least, but she didn't dare move. And then she heard the sound of Goltz's training shoes walking slowly in a circle around her.

She looked up as Goltz stopped in front of her and squatted athletically. She saw Goltz's powerful calves and thighs, and couldn't help looking at the junction of Goltz's legs where the taut material of the Instructor's shorts was gathered into the crease of her vulva.

'Keep very still, girlie,' Goltz said. 'You'll get harder whacks if you try to run away.' She spread her thighs wider. 'When I've finished with you, you'll wash me in the showers. And you'll use your tongue when you wash me there. But first,' she said more briskly, and jumped to her feet, 'I think you need a bit more physical education.'

Julia heard Goltz's footsteps move behind her again. She felt her track suit top being pulled, and suddenly it was gathered at her shoulders and she was as good as naked. Something cold - Goltz's plimsole, she realised - touched the small of her back.

'Now then, girlie. Let's have a good look at the target area. Dip your back. Come on, exercise those vertebrae. Dip your back and push the target out. That's the way.'

Under different circumstances, Julia thought, there was nothing she liked better than to show off her long legs, her slim buttocks, her ripe, bushy sex and her dark, deep anus. These were, she felt, her best features. And although she feared and loathed Goltz, and was sure that Goltz was about to belabour her most intimate parts with that awful, springy, stinging, rubber plimsole, she could feel the familiar tingle of desire stirring between her parted legs.

The plimsole tapped the inside of her right thigh. 'Get those thighs wide open,' Goltz said. 'Get some tension in those muscles. You're not here for a rest, girlie. You're here to learn.' The plimsole touched the centre of her left buttock, and then of her right. 'First lesson: how to keep quite still while the target area is getting nicely coloured up.' And Julia heard a whistle as Goltz lifted the plimsole into the air.

The plimsole didn't hit her. Instead, she felt the shock of something landing on the gymnasium floor, and heard a voice shout 'That's enough!' She lifted her head to see the Master's consort standing, hands on hips, below the gallery.

Instructor Goltz was advancing towards her. 'Get out!' Goltz said. 'This is a private training session.'

The leather-jacketed redhead didn't move; she just smiled. 'Do you know who I am?' she asked.

'No, sweetheart,' Goltz replied, 'and I don't care. You could be the Queen of Sheba but if you don't get out of here now I'll give you a lesson too. Understand?'

Julia managed to sit up. The Master's consort was looking decidedly less confident as Goltz strode towards her, fists swinging. She raised her hands as if preparing a karate strike, and Goltz laughed softly. The redhead started to circle the room towards Julia. Goltz pursued her steadily.

Julia felt hands grasping her under the arms. She moaned. 'Stand up, for God's sake,' whispered a voice in her ear. 'This woman can make mincemeat of me, but if you can clobber her while she's not looking, we might both get away.'

Julia staggered to her feet to find Instructor Goltz only an arm's length away, staring at the auburn intruder. 'I know you now, sweetheart,' Goltz said. 'You're the Master's new tart. He won't save you if you tangle with me. He appointed me personally. I'm a volunteer, not like most of the scum in this place. Get out now or I'll bruise your bottom for you.'

The Master's consort backed away. 'I'm not going without her,' she said, 'and if you lay a finger on me Terence will flay you alive.' And in the moment of shocked silence that followed her use of the Master's real name, the leather-jacketed young woman hurled herself at Goltz in a whirlwind of pointed toes and clawed hands. The Instructor took a step back - and Julia had only to extend her foot and pull the back of Goltz's shirt. The tall woman toppled backwards like a felled tree, and Julia twisted her as she fell, using all the remaining strength of her two arms to force the Instructor's right hand up towards the back of her neck. Julia collapsed across the woman's back, pinning her to the floor and, as if in a symbolic gesture of defeat, the Instructor's hand relinquished its grip on the plimsole. With an expression of distaste, the Master's consort lifted her leather jacket and sat with her naked hindquarters imprisoning the Instructor's head.

Julia felt gentle fingers stroking her hair, and looked up into smiling blue eyes. Tm very grateful,' she said, 'you really shouldn't have put yourself out for me -'

'Cut that out. You're damned lucky I happened to be here. I'm Jem, by the way. Pleased to meet you.'