Teena: A House of Ill Repute (25 page)

Again he shook his head, though I noticed it was less forcibly, but then maybe it was just that his neck muscles were getting tired.

I moved backwards a pace and thrust my hand between his splayed thighs, forcing it beneath him, palm uppermost. I felt a satisfying bulge under the leather. Men can't help but betray themselves, yet I always find it funny when they do. I moved my hand in a truncated circular motion and was rewarded by a long groan from behind the gag, and further exploration revealed something more.

'Oh dear, Paulie,' I sympathised. 'It would appear there isn't an opening down this end.' I eyed the row of lacing tracing the shape of his spine up to the nape of his neck. That represented a lot of time and effort. 'It would seem Archie has sealed you in here, in this suit, I mean. This poor piece of meat is going to have to wait quite a while, I fear.' I withdrew my hand and patted his buttocks again.

'Ah well,' I sighed, stepping back and transferring the cane again. 'I suppose you shouldn't really enjoy this anyway. After all, this is supposed to be a punishment, isn't it?' I gave the cane one testing swing, adjusted my grip and braced myself.

Of course, the leather of the suit prevented any real damage, ensuring his skin wouldn't be broken, but even so, I think I went pretty easy on Paulie. It was, after all, his first proper punishment. Whatever he had suffered during his school years would have been brisk, brash and to the point. This, as I knew only too well from my own experiences, was a different kettle of fish entirely.

Crack!
The first cut produced a very pleasing report, even though I did not give it full vent. A mangled gasp blew out around the gag and despite the straps, I saw the shiny black backside rise from the horse at least an inch.

Crack!
The second stroke landed a little lower, cutting across the crease between his buttocks and the top of his thighs, a much more painful area. This time, a high-pitched wheezing squeak echoed around the walls, chasing the echo of the cane. I paused, eyeing his upper back and shoulders, but decided against. Instead, I landed the third cut about an inch higher than the first. He moaned, his head tossing from side to side, and I saw he was crying. I considered for a moment and then stepped up and stooped alongside him, grasping his chin in my hand and turning his face towards me.

'Bloody hurts, doesn't it?' I whispered. 'Well, just you remember this, Paulie, when it's you on the other end. How does it feel to be helpless, eh? Not nice? No, but exciting at the same time, eh? Is your cock getting even harder under there? Well, don't you worry, young man, we'll let it find its own release before long.' I straightened up, moved back again and resumed the beating. By the time I reached the eighth stroke, and well before Archie returned, Paulie unloaded all his frustrations in a manner so explosive I thought he had passed out. I quickly undid the gag-strap and wrenched the sodden leather from between his teeth.

After about another thirty seconds he groaned, shook his head slightly and opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds longer to focus and then, when he saw me stooping alongside him, my face only inches from his, his expression suddenly changed, assuming what could only be described as a beatific look.

'Oh, Mistress Contessa!' he gasped. I saw that his entire body was still quivering from tiny aftershocks, something that is quite common in women, but which I had, and have since, rarely seen in men. I smiled, and though there was no way he could see this, his own mouth wreathed into a crescent of contentment. 'Oh Mistress,' he gasped again. 'Oh Mistress, I adore you. I love you!' I'm sure that, in his chaotic mental state he really did love me, at least for those few minutes before I decided to give him another two cuts just for good measure, making absolutely sure I delivered them at such an angle that they would land right across the welts I knew were already rising on his youthful skin beneath that gleaming black leather.

7.

The remainder of our Chichester assignment was somewhat low-key, to be brutally honest. With Paulie reduced to little more than a slavering mass prepared to throw himself under my heels had I demanded it, his interest in what happened afterwards between Archie and our three girls was minimal. Archie himself seemed more than a little confused. I suspected he had been hoping to draw Paulie in to a mutual session where the girls were a common bond for excitement, but after that punishment session Paulie appeared to be almost withdrawn, and certainly paid little heed to anything that was going on that didn't give him the opportunity to fawn over me. Which, I was forced to admit, was quite a shame and certainly a waste of the facilities at our disposal. Archie's friends were obviously both rich and inventive and had spared neither money nor artistry in their efforts to turn the cellar region into a fetishist's dream world. Archie should have been content with that, and the fact that my little troupe were more than compliant, but somehow, when confronted with a totally different version of Paulie from the one he expected, the gloss seemed to go off the proceedings for him and he went through the various scenarios like an automaton.

For my part, whilst I detected the mood shift from the outset, I was still determined we would give Archie no grounds for complaint when it came to our input. And whether or not Archie was getting from this what he expected, the facilities here were far in advance of our own and it would have been a shame to waste them. I therefore resolved that, if nothing else, the session would prove to be an invaluable training addition for Milly, Molly and Mandy. With Indira's eager assistance, I brought our trio on by leaps and bounds over the course of those next few hours and, at the same time, began formulating a few improvement ideas of my own.

The sight of Mandy and Molly sitting in identical chairs facing each other, their lower orifices filled by twin polished wooden shafts attached to the seats, their wrists, arms, legs, and even their necks, strapped to the woodwork, whilst Indira and Archie whipped their breasts with lightweight multi-thong cats, was both erotic and at the same time educational. When I then had Paulie suckle their nipples - Indira whipping his backside while he did so - until they each climaxed, I not only had the outline of what I was convinced would be my final plan to finish off Hacklebury, I was pretty sure I had me a new recruit.

Forget business ethics. Long before we finally met the dawn light for our short trip back to our hotel, I had added Paulie to our team, although poor stupid Archie had no idea, and I knew Paulie would not tell him in the meantime. Not that Archie really appreciated what he had held in his hands, but then that's men for you. Lead them by the balls and the hearts - and everything else, for that matter - and they are bound to follow. As our coach rattled down the street and a watery sun struggled to climb above the rooftops, I knew we had left behind a more than satisfied first customer, or at least a customer who was too exhausted to know the difference.

'I'm actually doing this for your own good.' Anne-Marie stood over us, hands on hips, her facial expression set somewhere between neutral and grim determination.

I peered up at her and yawned behind my mask. 'How do you work that out?' I protested. 'All we want to do is crash. I feel like I've been run through a combine harvester and my brain has turned to mushy peas. Can't you just let us sleep?'

'Oh, you can sleep all right, if that's what you want,' she said, 'but you'll sleep the way I want.'

'Can't we just do this tomorrow?' Andrea whined. 'I need a shower and I'm ready to fall over. I've been in this doll skin thing for hours now.'

'Listen, you pair of silly cows,' Anne-Marie snapped, 'stuff has been happening back there, right Teenie? You've flipped out several times in the past few hours. I'm getting so I know the signs, even though you haven't had the chance to tell me.'

'Yeah, okay, you're right,' I admitted. 'But so what?'

'So you've been going back on your own, haven't you? Our dear little Andrea here has been left very much in our own time.'

'So what?' I retorted.

'Yeah, so what?' Andrea echoed.

'So,' Anne-Marie said, 'you can call me Miss Silly, but I reckon it would be a lot better if both of you were back there when things start coming to a head. I take it I'm right when I say the crunch is coming soon, eh Teenie?'

I nodded, almost without thinking. 'It's getting close, certainly,' I confirmed.

'Right then, so you need all the help you can get.'

'Well, the real Indira is doing okay so far,' I said. 'She seems to have a good idea of what's going on and she's adapted to it pretty well, all things considered.'

'Yeah, okay, but Andrea would be a better bet, wouldn't she?'

'Possibly,' I admitted. 'Particularly with what I've got in mind now.' I quickly related what had happened during my last time flip, keeping the details to a minimum, but stressing what I thought would be the importance of Paulie's role in what I was now planning. Andrea found it particularly funny, and would have had trouble keeping a straight face had not the doll's head mask been doing it for her.

'Well then,' Anne-Marie said, '
my
plan is this. I'm going to keep you two sweet dollies together for as long as this now takes, as it seems Andrea goes back with you mostly when the pair of you are, well, connected at this end, as it were. If that Davina bitch had paired you together instead of being intent on humiliating me the way she did, it's odds on the fact Andrea would have gone back with you earlier, in my opinion.'

'And what happens if we don't time flip?' I protested, visions of what Anne-Marie intended flashing before my eyes. 'You intend we play fuck-a-dolly together
ad infinitum
, is that it?'

She shrugged. 'If that's what it takes,' she replied simply, 'though I think we all know it won't be that long. Things back there are speeding up out of all proportion to the passage of time here, aren't they?'

'Yes, but—'

'No buts. Besides, I seem to be the one here who's in the position to call the shots, so let's have no more crap. Let's get things set up properly and then see what happens. Worse scenario is you spend the rest of the night shagging each other silly, and you aren't going to try to convince me that would give either of you much trouble?'

End of argument.

Archie may not have got quite what he was expecting from our visit, but he was certainly well pleased enough to add a bonus of ten guineas when he paid Erik the balance of our fee and booked us to return on the following weekend. He also passed us a brief letter from a friend of his from Oxford, who would be visiting Brighton the weekend following, who wondered if we could accommodate him for an afternoon and a night if he extended his stay. Back at the hotel I penned a brief affirmative reply, together with instructions for the fellow to rendezvous with Erik at the hotel in Arundel, and Archie undertook to ensure it was conveyed to him in good time.

'Not bad at all,' I said to Indira and Erik when we were finally back at the mill house. 'One very satisfied customer and one new one and we've hardly started up yet.'

'Another letter there is,' Erik said. 'Collecting it from the shoemaker I was as we coming through this morning were.' He took out the packet, unfolded the contents and passed them to me.

There were two large five-pound bank notes and a sheet of paper, which I saw was a brief note from Julian Corner-Browne, requesting an 'appointment' at the earliest possible opportunity. 'We'll need to start a proper diary,' I chuckled. 'I'll write and let him know we can fit him in just after we get back from Archie next time. Perhaps you could make sure it gets delivered, Erik? Oh, and I have another little job for you, but it will mean riding to London.' No wonder the railway was greeted so enthusiastically in the next decade, I thought, but Erik seemed unperturbed at the prospect of several hours in the saddle.

'I have a name from Mister Marsh,' I elaborated. 'The gentleman in question is French, but he speaks very good English. He has a device that is available for sale I need you to bring back. It is very delicate, so it will need wrapping very carefully. You may need to buy another horse to bring it back on.'

Erik nodded and did not question me any further. As I have said, our funds had taken quite a pounding over the weeks, but I had put some cash aside for this particular phase of my plan as soon as it started forming in my head. The sudden appearance of young Paulie on the scene could possibly be an unexpected bonus, but it all depended upon whether what M. Delascier had to sell us, and on whether it could be made to work properly in the circumstances in which I wanted to use it.

As I considered this, I realised it was time to do a quick sidestep and try for a slightly different approach. 'On second thought, Erik, take the carriage and I'll write you a letter for the gentleman. It could be useful if we could persuade him to come down here for a few days, even if we have to pay him a bit extra. Nothing like having an expert when it comes to new technology.' That last word flummoxed not only Erik, but Indira as well. 'It's a new invention,' I explained. 'It's a sort of box for taking pictures of people. They call it a camera, but at the moment it's very new and probably very tricky. This Frenchman is one of the very few people who knows anything much about it, so we'll need his help and advice.'

'Why do we need a box for this?' Indira asked. 'What is wrong with an artist? Surely there must be a portrait painter living in the town?'