One Week in the Private House (26 page)

The woman shook her auburn curls with exasperation. 'No, nothing like that. The whole thing is run by a man who calls himself the Master. I know it sounds crazy! He acts like he's the king of his own little kingdom. The whole thing is set up to serve his sexual requirements. He's a bit weird, if you know what I mean.

Lucy was beginning to wonder whether she was listening to the ramblings of an escapee from a mental hospital. Asmita's hints and behaviour supported the sex angle; perhaps there was a germ of truth in the pretty redhead's story. Maybe she'd been held captive so long that her sense of reality had snapped. 'I know you've probably had unpleasant experiences,' Lucy said, speaking slowly and clearly, 'but can you remember how long you've been held prisoner?'

Two days,' the woman said, and Lucy had to admit that she didn't sound even a little bit confused. 'I'm not losing my mind. You don't believe what I told you about the Master? Take a look at this.'

The woman untied her cloak, turned, and let it drop" to the floor. From her waist to her thighs her skin was crisscrossed with red weals. Lucy overcame the urge to run her fingers across the latticed perfect curves. The woman half-turned, and looked over her shoulder. 'The Master did that, about an hour ago,' she said, with a tremor in her voice that made Lucy feel .weak at the knees. 'Now do you believe me?'

'OK,' Lucy said, is there more?'

'Only this: the Master is some kind of big noise out in the real world, I think. Someone from outside, someone with authority, has got to get inside and collect evidence against him. It's not just the wall and the guards that keep everyone imprisoned; there's also the knowledge that if one of us could escape, and could find anyone to believe the story, the Master has enough power and money to make sure the case could never come to trial. We need the help of a professional evidence-gatherer. Someone like you, perhaps?'

Lucy was lost in thought. Was it possible that Terence Headman knew that his Health Club was being used as a front for an organisation run by a man calling himself the Master? It was unbelievable. But how could he fail to know? Lucy had come to the Health Club on the trail of a handful of missing persons, and she'd unearthed a story about a madhouse - or from a madhouse. She was still suspicious of her auburn informant.

'What do you know about a woman called Julia?' she asked urgently. 'Your height and build, dark hair and eyes?'

'Be careful of her,' replied the woman re-tying the ribbons at the neck of her cloak. 'She's in the Master's Security Corps. I don't know whose side she's on. Ours, I think. But don't tell her anything you know or suspect.'

'I wish I'd known that yesterday,' Lucy said, and then realised that she was falling in with the woman's bizarre story. 'Let's assume I'm interested; how can I get into the Private House?'

The woman laughed. 'By invitation only. You'll get in if the Master thinks you're sexy or useful. Preferably both.'

'So what do I have to do?'

'Let me think. I guess you could try using Julia to carry information. Or disinformation, I should say. You're big, blonde and busty; you'd pass the physical for sure. So spin Julia a line. Tell her you're the wife of some wealthy industrialist; tell her that you're bored and frustrated, that you want excitement and danger. If Julia reports back, that little story should be enough to get you in.'

'And if I can get inside?'

'You're the expert, lady. Gather evidence, and get back out with it, I guess. I'll be there, and I'll help you if I can
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But don't even look at me unless I give you the all-clear first, OK?'

'You mean, we have to be alone to talk freely?'

'Alone, and out of microphone range, and away from cameras. I'll tell you when it's safe; otherwise, stay in character and under cover.'

Lucy scanned the walls. 'The pavilion?'

'Don't worry. It's clean.'

'Ah! The avenue of silver birches?'

'Video camera trained right down the middle. You didn't - ?'

'No; I followed your directions.'

'Fine. Well, that's it. They'll be looking for you. You shouldn't have worn the tennis outfit. They'll follow that up. I bet when you get outside you find Julia warming up on the courts. Get out of here - and good luck.'

Lucy made for the door. She turned back. 'What about you?' she said.

'I'll be OK. Leave me here. Get going.'

'I don't even know your name.'

'You'll find out - when you get inside the Private House.'

'Maxine!' Julia's head was spinning. 'For goodness' sake, Maxine, do be quiet, girl! I can't hear myself think.'

It had been another exciting, exhausting day, and Julia couldn't decide whether or not she'd enjoyed it. From the moment she'd woken to find Jem still asleep in her arms, the day had seemed full of omens and portents. Her triumphant morning at the firing range had ended with the news of Asmita's disappearance; her afternoon of incompetent tennis against the invincible Lucy had ended with a humiliating game of sexual forfeits in the dusty pavilion, and Lucy's remarkable assertion that she was the unfulfilled wife of a leading criminal lawyer.

She had returned to her room in the House, with her

face sticky with Lucy's juices and with the imprint of Lucy's tennis racquet on her throbbing bottom, to find Maxine bubbling over with eagerness to know the contents of the letter that had been delivered to Julia's room.

Julia had refused to even look at the letter until she had had a long bath.

'How's the Master's consort today, Miss?' Maxine, patting talcum powder on to Julia's breasts, made yet another attempt to start a conversation.

'I've told you, Maxine, you silly goose. I haven't seen her since first thing this morning.'

They say she's been all over the estate again this afternoon, Miss.'

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Do they. Have your gossip-mongers heard anything about a special punishment session in the dungeon this morning, by any chance?' Anderson's prevarication had made Julia fear the worst.

'I've heard it was pretty nasty, Miss. One of the Master's specials. I don't know who it was he had it in for, though.'

'And Jem was with the Master?' Julia forced herself to ask the question, dreading an affirmative answer.

'Not that I've heard, Miss. Not really her cup of tea, I shouldn't think. She was out and about this afternoon, though. She did a complete tour of the garden, and everyone came out of the temples and summer houses to talk to her, and then she led a whole crowd down to the lake and had everyone rowing about in those little pleasure-boats, you know, and then when John, the Master's chauffeur, appeared in the Rolls to take her back to the Round Tower, she pretended she couldn't hear him. She was in a boat with that bloke Sebastian, who's a servant now, and Rhoda from the airstrip who shouldn't have been there because she was supposed to be on duty, and they were all pretending that they couldn't understand John because he was talking in French, which of course he wasn't, and he was so angry he was hopping up and down on the bank, and everyone was laughing like mad, and even John saw the funny side of it in the end, and when she came ashore she told him to take her to visit the South Farm, so she never did go back to the Round Tower. I'll bet the Master was furious, silly old sod. Oh! Sorry, Miss, I meant no disrespect to the Master, Miss.'

'Don't worry, Maxine. I'm too tired to care. Shall we have a look at that mysterious envelope now?'

'Oh, yes, Miss. I'll fetch it.'

Julia opened the envelope and studied the brief note it contained while Maxine fidgeted in front of her.

'Take off your uniform,' Julia said at last. 'You're going to be a slave, just for this evening. You are required to be naked, except for a collar, shoes and chains round your wrists and ankles. I'm to take you to the Round Tower.'

Julia watched surprise, anxiety and excitement vie for supremacy on the girl's flushed face. 'Is it the Master who wants me, Miss? the maid asked in a tremulous voice.

'Well, of course, Maxine. But I'll come with you. And Jem will be there too.'

'Thank you, Miss. I'm so excited! But will the Master want me to serve him, do you think? What will he do to me?'

Julia unbuttoned the maid's black blouse, and pulled aside the material to caress the white mounds that overflowed the corset's half-cups. 'When he sees these, darling, he'll want to do what all your boyfriends want to do. Although, knowing the Master, I imagine he might decide to tie you up first, or something like that.'

Maxine smiled happily. 'That's all right, then. What about you, Miss?'

'Me? It seems I'm going to be there in my capacity as Jem's bodyguard. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but I rather hope I won't have to do anything but watch. But tomorrow, Maxine, when I'm feeling a bit less weary, tomorrow I'll claim these beautiful big breasts of yours!'

As it turned out, Julia found that she had very little to do. She knocked at the Master's suite, and the Master himself opened the door. He hardly noticed her, as his bloodshot eyes were instantly fixed on the bounteous charms of Maxine, quivering and wide-eyed in her slave-girl's chains. He grasped her right nipple and led her into the room, leaving Julia to close the door and stand guard just inside it.

Julia didn't notice Jem at first. She was glancing round the room, admiring the tapestries and the ornate carving of the groins of the stone arches, when she noticed a movement above the vast bed that occupied the centre of the room. Suspended from the centre of the ceiling there was a circular chandelier; Jem was tied to the underside of it, spreadeagled within the metal circle like the spokes of a cartwheel. She caught Julia's gaze, grinned, tossed her head, and raised her eyes to the heavens. Julia had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle.

'Master! Oh, Master!' Jem's musical voice echoed in the vaulting, isn't it about time you let me down from here so I can join in the fun?'

The Master's face was buried between Maxine's luscious breasts, and he seemed not to have heard Jem's question. But Maxine, sprawled against the cushions on the bed, looked up to see her auburn-haired idol hanging from the ceiling.

'Oh! Miss Jem! Whatever are you doing up there?'

The Master covered Maxine's face with his left hand and with the other delivered a series of resounding slaps to the girl's pendulous globes. 'Slaves,' he said, once he had succeeded in bringing tears to her eyes, 'are to be seen, and toyed with, but definitely not to be heard. Don't speak again unless I give you permission. Miss Jem is tied up because it seems that unless I keep her on a leash she has a habit of running off; she is above the bed so that she has a bird's eye view of the entertainment she's not allowed to participate in. No doubt I will relent at some point and bring her down; I suspect that I will require her to flog you while I'm fucking your wondrous cleavage. Now stop snivelling and undress me.'

During the evening Julia stood and watched while the Master organised a succession of games. He lay on his back, staring up at Jem over Maxine's swivelling bottom and squeezing the girl's dangling breasts as she crouched over him and licked his member to its first orgasm of the evening.

While Maxine refilled his glass with brandy and soda he turned the handle, next to the bed, that lowered the chandelier, and released Jem, kissing her passionately before she had time to stretch her limbs. Propped against a pile of cushions, he sipped his drink while Maxine kelt between his outstretched legs, under orders to stimulate his flaccid organ by massaging it with her rose-tipped mounds. Jem, in basque and stockings the colour of peonies, was told to encourage Maxine with occasional use of the Master's riding crop. Maxine obeyed her orders conscientiously, but Julia could see that she spent much of her time looking over her shoulder to smile at Jem, wiggling her plump bottom to invite another swipe. Julia began to feel decidedly left out of the fun.

The Master's second spurt came in the deep valley between Maxine's breasts, his gaze fixed on Jem as she lashed Maxine's bottom in time with the Master's grunts of breath.

As far as Julia could tell the Master's energy was failing now. After another drink, and a brief rest during which he lay with his head on Maxine's chest and with Jem's arms encircling his waist, he seemed content to amuse himself with decorating Maxine's body. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Jem knelt between his legs trying to breathe some life into his exhausted member. Maxine stood in front of him, biting her lip as he experimented with the placing of an array of bejewelled clips, silver clamps and gold chains. When Maxine was festooned with glittering chains, he leaned back to view the effect - and fell asleep.

Jem lifted his legs on to the bed, and covered his body with a blanket. He murmured something about having her flogged, and she kissed his forehead. He began to snore softly.

The three women looked at each other. 'We could kill him now,' Jem whispered, and then grinned. 'Only joking. I'm not sure I could do it, anyway. Let's go to bed.'

'I thought you'd never ask, darling,' Julia said.

'Should I come, too, Miss?' Maxine said. 'Only, I'd like to take these bloody chains off, if that's all right, because my nipples are ever so sore.'

Julia hugged Jem. She felt a wave of affection for her lovely friend and her dear maid. Take them all off, Maxine, and go back to my room. Stay there until I return, but don't wait up for me. I've a lot of things to discuss with Jem.'