Teena: A House of Ill Repute (10 page)

'You'll need to watch your head at the top here, Teenie,' Anne-Marie warned, 'but it's higher once you get down the first half dozen steps.' And it was, but in my towering heels I still felt as though my head was about to scrape on the rough-hewn ceiling. Anne-Marie went first, walking in a sideways fashion so she could keep an eye on my progress, but I didn't fancy her chances if I toppled forward on to her, nor my chances if Andrea, who was bringing up the rear, fell on top of me. Thankfully, however, the steps grew wider as we descended and we finally made it to a level area some twenty-five feet below ground level and maybe even more, for I had completely lost count of the number of steps I had negotiated.

We found ourselves grouped together in a rectangular antechamber, which I guessed had to be about ten feet by eight feet and which was illuminated by electric light units fitted on each of the longer walls. The roof here was higher than on the stairway, but even now it could not have been more than a foot above my head, and the overall effect was therefore quite claustrophobic.

'C'mon,' Anne-Marie urged, gathering our leashes and giving them a sharp tug. 'The best bit is yet to come.' She turned and made her way towards a sturdy looking door set in the far wall, and opened it to reveal a short passageway with a vaulted ceiling. A single lamp hanging from this ceiling burned about midway along its approximate twelve-foot length, showing a second door at the far end. Anne-Marie paused before it and knocked three times.

We waited in silence, but only for a few seconds, then there was the sound of a bolt being withdrawn and the door swung open. Standing close behind Anne-Marie my initial view of what lay beyond was very much obscured, but as she moved forward again and I passed through the door, what I saw was almost enough to take away what little breath my tight corset allowed me.

I realised straight away that my estimate as to how far beneath the ground we had come had been much too conservative, for the long chamber into which we now emerged stretched upwards for what had to be at least thirty feet, with stone vaulting supported by huge pillars set near to the side walls along its length forming natural alcoves at ground level. At the furthest end was a wide raised area like a stage, at the back of which several arches were lit by blue and red lights, giving an eerie backdrop to a scenario that looked as though it had been well underway for some time.

Roughly in the centre of the 'stage' stood a huge wooden wheel, against which a featureless rubber figure was bound in a spread-eagle position, straps securing it at wrists, elbows, shoulders, chest, waist, thighs and ankles, so that as the wheel turned slowly, the figure did not sag with its own shifting weight, but remained stiff and unmoving, like yet another doll. As we came closer I saw the rubber skin stretched over firm breasts and wide hips, but I knew that was no guarantee the victim was actually a female, any more than Andrea's initial outward appearance meant that she was actually a girl.

The wheel seemed to be driven by some kind of motor unit I could see standing behind the support beam on which it spun, and the rest of the stage area was deserted, although to either side there were matching empty pillories I guessed would be filled before the night was over. So engrossed was I at the sight of the slow spinning mannequin, that we had walked halfway along the main hall before I realised that the dozen or so dark recesses formed by the pillars on either side each contained a similarly garbed and equally silent figure.

I shivered slightly wondering just who they all were and how long they had been there, before another thought struck me and I tried to look harder at the next figure. Maybe they weren't real, living people at all. Perhaps they were simply the statues they resembled, placed there for theatrical effect. I peered through the gloom that persisted at this end of the hall, trying to identify and sort out straps or manacles that might be binding arms and legs, but the lenses made seeing clearly difficult enough even in good light, and this low level of illumination most certainly wasn't helping my vision.

'Good evening, girls.'

I recognised Carmen's voice, but otherwise the tall figure that emerged from the shadows as if by magic could have been anyone, for her face was hidden by a black leather mask and hood, the eyes and lips of which had been picked out in white for a truly devilish effect. The leather bodysuit was similarly decorated, the white piping lines emphasising breasts and waist and running down the outside of each long leg. The gloves and boots that encased her hands and feet were, I saw, part of the main cat suit, extensions connected to the end of each limb so that when she moved, Carmen appeared like some sort of dark insect, deadly on her spiked heels with glinting steel talons attached to the tips of her fingers.

Anne-Marie was clearly very impressed with the effect. 'Oh, now that I do like!' she enthused. 'Expensive though, I should think?'

'A present from an admirer,' Carmen replied. She nodded towards the illuminated stage area. 'As you can see, I'm rewarding him this evening for his generosity.' She turned back and appeared to study Andrea and me with a critical gaze, although her actual eyes were barely visible through the slits in her mask. 'The Dolly twins!' she exclaimed at last. 'Very sweet, I must say. Which one is which? No, don't tell me, I'll try to guess, and it'll be such fun finding out later on. Perhaps we could have a sort of competition among the guests? And don't for one moment think I'm going to be influenced by that one's big rubber cock. I know you only too well, Annie. That could just as easily be your idea of a joke.'

'Is anyone else here yet?' Anne-Marie asked, smiling confidently back at our hostess. 'We're a bit early, but I always prefer to be early rather than late.'

'There are a few here already,' Carmen replied. 'I had two mistresses and a master as houseguests last night and they're busy freshening up their slaves just now. Two of them spent fifteen hours together in one of the old penitence cells, so we thought it best to give them a bath and a fresh outfit for tonight.'

I felt the squelching sensation between my toes as I shifted my weight, and glumly wished that maybe someone would think about affording me that luxury, though I suspected it wasn't going to happen, at least not for some few hours yet.

'You want to run a brothel?' The huge brown eyes looked larger and rounder than ever.

I grinned. Well, at least Andy was still back here with me, so we must have made the last hop together. 'Not a brothel, exactly,' I countered, although there really wasn't another description for it. I opened my mouth to speak again, but then paused. 'Hang on a sec,' I said, after thinking for a moment. 'I only just remember being back here and I'm sure I never got as far as making that suggestion. Come to think of it, I'm not sure it
was
entirely my suggestion. I mean, a sort of idea was forming when we were looking around the house, but then the last thing I remember was starting back in the carriage, and then suddenly we were back with Anne-Marie again.'

'Then how—?'

I interrupted, quickly trying to put into words all the suspicions and theories suddenly doing an impression of a tumble inside my head. 'Angelina,' I concluded. 'She must have some way of knowing what I'm thinking, saying and doing when I'm here, and Indira must be retaining some of your memories and you some of hers. I know I didn't mention anything to you, so Angelina must have said it to her in the moment just before we came back here from the present.'

'You must be kidding,' my astonished lover snorted. 'Angelina prepared to run a bloody brothel? Doesn't sound like her, not from what I've heard from you, anyway.'

'But I don't really know that much about her,' I rejoined. 'I made a load of assumptions, but that's all they were. Maybe she's just prepared to go along with what she thinks I'm thinking.'

'Like running a brothel?'

'I wish you wouldn't call it that,' I complained. 'That's not what I have in mind, not if you mean a simple whorehouse where any old Tom, Dick or Harry can go for a quick leg-over. No, I was thinking about something a lot more sophisticated than that, something that would cater to the less usual tastes.'

'Oh my, we should have Anne-Marie back here if that's what you're thinking, but then I don't suppose they had rubber gear back here, did they?'

I shook my head. 'Not as far as I know, but there's plenty of leather - the dog suit and other things they used on me are proof of that - plus all the usual lace, silk, satin and so on. What they don't have is nearly a century-and-a-half of other people's inventiveness to benefit from, and they almost certainly don't have an Anne-Marie.'

'Well, I hate to point out the obvious,' Andrea drawled, 'but neither do we, not unless you reckon she's going to suddenly start time hopping with us.'

'Well, if we had a real need for her,' I replied slowly, considering this possibility, 'I wouldn't discount the idea. After all, you popped up in this time at a very opportune moment for me and I'm far from convinced that was just some sort of lucky coincidence.'

'But,' I went on thoughtfully, 'we don't actually need Anne-Marie, do we? I mean, we've both experienced her cunningly inventive little mind, you especially, so all we have to do is make use of what she's already taught us, and maybe change a few things to suit our own particular circumstances. I'm sure between us we could conjure up something the right people would be more than willing to pay handsomely for.'

'But why?' Andrea protested.

'Well, for a start there's the money angle,' I replied. 'Our funds won't last forever. Besides, as I said before, I don't think we've been brought back here just to play hide-and-seek with Hacklebury and Meg.'

'So instead you want to start a new career as a Madame, is that it? And I suppose you think I'm going to be happy to play the whore for you? I don't think that'll sit well with Indira when she's back in her body.'

'I'm sure there will be female clients soon enough,' I said. 'And I reckon we could recruit a couple of girls easily enough, especially if Erik goes up to London with a few quid in his pocket.'

'Ugh!' Andrea looked disgusted. 'I've heard about London whores in Victorian times!'

'So, we get Erik to rescue a couple of young girls, bring 'em back here and scrub 'em up and get them some decent things. Afterwards we can give them enough money so they don't have to go back on the street again, which means at least someone else will get something good out of all this.'

'After what?' Andrea demanded.

I winked. 'After we've settled Hacklebury's hash, and hopefully Megan's, too.'

'And how are we going to do that and run a brothel at the same time?'

'I think I prefer the term
House of Ill Repute
, actually.' I smirked. 'And that's all part of the plan.'

'Oh well, that's all right then,' she muttered, 'just as long as you have a plan. Silly me for thinking you were just making this up as we go along, but if there's a plan, well, who am I to argue?'

'Well,' I admitted, 'I only have part of the plan so far, but I'm working on it and I'm sure it'll all come together, no pun intended.'

Andrea pursed those full Indira lips and stared hard at me. 'Would it be too much to ask you to share this part plan with me, or is it going to be a surprise?'

'Only for Hacklebury and Megan,' I assured her, 'but if I tell you, you've got to promise to trust me, because this is likely to be just a bit tricky and perhaps more than a bit dangerous.'

She continued to stare at me for a moment, and then heaved a long sigh of resignation. 'How come that's not a complete surprise to me?'

Unless you've experienced it for yourself, it's more than just a bit difficult to understand how much of a struggle it can be to come to terms with a time-shifting habit that always lands you back in your own century mere seconds after you left it, but which deposits you back in the past almost at random. One time I would go back only seconds after I had last left eighteen thirty-nine, yet another time it might be days, even weeks later, when I next turned up there, and it would take me a good few hours to catch up and fill in the blank bits.

But I digress and, in any case, this particular stay in the past turned out to be quite a lengthy one, so much so that when I was finally whisked back to that huge underground crypt at Carmen's, I had all but forgotten what had been happening when I was originally there. But more of that in a while...

For the particular moment - that is in eighteen thirty-nine - I set about preparing to put my half formed plan into action, not anywhere near sure of how the thing would eventually be executed and yet somehow certain I would think of something when the time came. For now there were simply basic things that had to be done, and so I set about making sure they were dealt with.

I started by negotiating a price for two of us - Andrea/Indira and myself - to remain at the inn for anything up to a month, which was the time I calculated it would take to make the old mill house at least partially habitable. I then despatched Erik to find a local builder who was prepared to undertake the work needed. Then, having haggled for an afternoon with one Mister Jonas White and finally settled on a figure, I sent our giant Viking to London with sufficient funds to accomplish the task of finding our first recruits, and with a diamond necklace to sell for the best price he could get.

The next several days were really quite boring, although my sweet little Andrea/Indira was becoming adept at finding new ways to distract me and pass the chilly evenings. Initially, I was expecting to be thrown forward to my own time at almost any moment, for our last few time-shifts had been of short duration and taken place with rapid regularity. Now, for some reason, it seemed I was destined to spend a protracted period as Angelina, which considering we had fallen into quite a boring routine struck me as curious. However,
ours was not to reason why
, as Tennyson was to write a few years hence, so I contented myself with daily visits to the house to keep an eye on the builders (believe me, builders haven't changed much in the past century-and-a-half) and with finding a local dressmaker who could give substance to one or two of my own particular designs, and who I could trust to keep quiet about their uniqueness.