One Week in the Private House (34 page)

There was more metalwork on Asmita's body. There was another ring at her navel, and a chain connecting it to the ring between her breasts. From either side of the ring at her navel chains encircled her waist. And from the bottom of the ring, connected not by metal but by a length of elasticated red velvet, a fourth chain ran down her belly, through her pubic hair and between her legs. Julia assumed that it ran between Asmita's labia, between her buttocks, and up to the chain at her waist. Julia could imagine that a chain in such intimate places would be difficult to ignore, even if it were not being used to hold in place one or more vibrators or dildoes.

Julia knew Asmita's temperament: wearing this metal costume the Asian girl would be always ready for sex. And always ready for a spanking, of course. Julia's hand grasped the handle of her flicker. Asmita let out a sob.

'Asmita, what's the matter? You look scrumptious in all that silverware. Come here and let me play with you.'

Asmita started to cry. i can't. I just can't. Go away, Julia. You must.'

'Absolutely not,' Julia said. 'You'll jolly well come here and tell me what is going on. At once, do you hear.'

'All right.' Asmita sniffed and tried to smile. 'But you must promise not to touch me, OK? I'll explain everything.'

Asmita walked towards Julia, jingling delightfully. She stopped about a metre in front of Julia, just out of reach. Julia thought she had never seen Asmita look more beautiful, and found it almost impossible to restrain herself from gathering the girl in her arms and tugging on those interesting chains. But she managed to remain still.

i'm going to be tattooed,' Asmita said. 'That's why I'm still in the dungeons. It's going to be all across my bottom. And it's going to say, "By order of the Master, no person shall touch any part of this slave, and in particular shall administer no corporal punishment to her or assist her in procuring sexual pleasure for herself, on pain of punishment up to permanent exile from the Private House." I have to repeat that to everyone I meet. That's why you mustn't touch me. The Master's made me untouchable.'

Julia was speechless for a moment. 'Oh, Asmita,' she said. That's horrible. And that costume ...'

'Yes, I want sex all the time. I'm desperate for you to flicker me. And you can't even touch me.' Asmita's shoulders shook as she dissolved into weeping.

Julia started forward to comfort her friend, remembered the camera above the door, considered banishment from the Private House, and held herself in check. She seethed. Asmita was helpless, hopeless, and friendless. Julia was appalled by the fiendishness of the Master's decree. The full implications of Asmita's predicament were still occurring to her, moment by moment. She could have screamed with the frustration of watching her friend in the depths of her misery and being forbidden even to touch her.

Julia tried to think calmly and rationally. She took a deep breath. And she took a decision. She stepped into Asmita's cell.

This is too much,' she said gently, waving her hand in a gesture that included the white-walled cell, the silver chains, Asmita's despair, and everything that seemed to be going wrong in the Private House.

Asmita started to back away. 'What are you doing? Julia, you must keep away.'

'Come here, Asmita darling. That's right. I don't care what happens to me. You need a cuddle. That's all that matters.' She folded Asmita in her arms, and held the dark girl tightly as she sobbed with relief.

Asmita looked up into Julia's face. 'Thank you,' she said. 'You've sacrificed yourself for me.'

Julia kissed her, several times. 'Maybe,' she said between kisses. 'We'll see. Doesn't matter. I'd do it over and over again. And anyway, you're irresistible in these chains. I want to play.' She tugged on a chain and watched
Asmita
's lips part in a sigh as the areola of her left breast was stretched. She vibrated the chain, and the breast jiggled. Asmita's lips sought hers again and they kissed
passionate-

ly-

'We should get out of here, I think,' Julia said at last. Tve got top level security clearance. We won't be stopped.

We'll have a long time playing in my room before someone senior comes to arrest me.'

'Can you take this horrid costume off me? It reminds me of - him.'

'Of course, my darling. But slowly.'

'Thank you,' Asmita whispered. She started to cry again. 'I've been so frightened, Julia. Why did the Master do this to me?'

Julia felt her own face wet with tears. Supporting Asmita's body, she started the long walk out of the dungeons. 'I don't know, Asmita. I don't know why he does these dreadful things. Don't worry, my dear, we can take all of the chains and rings away. I'll make you as good as new, I'll look after you. I know one thing, though,' she added, to herself.

'What?' Asmita said.

'The Master won't get away with this, Asmita. I don't know how, but I'm going to make him pay.'

Day 7:
Saturday

Asmita stirred and moaned questioningly, but her eyes remained closed.

'Shhh,' Julia breathed as she continued to smooth ointment into Asmita's wide nipples. 'It's all right. You're safe. You're in my room. All the horrid chains have gone. Sleep a little longer. It's Saturday. The weekend. You can lie in.'

Julia watched a smile appear on her friend's lips. She placed a soft, lingering kiss on each dark brown nipple and then pulled the quilt up to Asmita's throat.

She stepped back from the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Today she was off duty until the evening, and she had dressed in one of her old costumes. Apart from the tiny pink suspender belt and grey stockings, it consisted of no more than two scraps of the sheerest shocking pink silk; one piece was tied abut her shoulders and ended just below her breasts, while the other she had tied around her waist to make a long, backless skirt. She turned and looked over her shoulder to admire her small round buttocks peeking impertinently between the curtains of silk, and as her fingers were still covered with the ointment she had used to soothe Asmita's nipples and earlobes, she slid her hand up her ribs and rubbed the cream into the undersides of her breasts. She watched entranced as her hips began to move back and forth and she felt her breasts tighten and her nipples brush against the flimsy material.

She glanced at Asmita, but the girl was sleeping. Julia felt a momentary disappointment: she felt like a courtesan again, and she wanted her day off to be devoted to nothing but delightful sex. Even her new clearance level wouldn't prevent Security finding out, sooner or later, that the fugitive Asmita was in her room. Today might be her last day of fun for some time. She decided to telephone Jem.

i'm sorry, Miss,' said the voice of the switchboard operator, 'she's not available today.'

Julia frowned. 'Well, could I speak to her maid, Jenny, please?'

'Sorry, Miss. No one's available. I've been told to hold all calls in and out of the Round Tower.'

The line went dead. Julia put down the receiver slowly, a fearful premonition growing in her mind. Her hands went to the bow of silk at the back of her neck, and the pink drape drifted from her shoulders. Thinking furiously but outwardly calm, she reached for her Security tunic.

The black leather uniform was strangely comforting. Julia had no idea what she might have to do, but she felt ready for almost anything. She tightened the buckles of her belt, checked the power pack of her buzzer, and retrieved from the back of the wardrobe the package that Maxine had brought to her room in the middle of the night.

The handwriting on the brown cardboard was Jem's; Julia had already memorised the disquieting message:

If it happens that one day, maybe soon, you can't find me, and you can't contact me, open this box. And if you love me, please carry out the instructions inside. I'm counting on you, honey.

As she tore open the parcel, Julia walked slowly to the window. In the grey light of the cloud-covered sky she inspected the contents: a signet ring, a stick of red sealing wax, and a long letter.

I do love you, Jem, she thought, staring unseeingly through the rain-streaked panes; and she began to read.

The wind whistled through the battlements above Headman's chambers. Jem ghivered, and Headman's hand stopped moving between her parted thighs. She tensed, and then forced herself to relax, wriggling her pelvis against his hardness. She was on his bed, lying across his lap, and she expected the spanking to start at any moment.

'Goose pimples, Jem,' he chuckled, running his palm across her bottom. 'Are you cold, my dear?'

Why's he in such a darned good mood, Jem wondered. Why's he being nice to me all of a sudden? 'I expect you'll think of some way to warm me up, Master,' she said.

'Perhaps later, my angel. But first I've got a treat for you. It's going to be a very entertaining day. Shall I play with your pussy a little longer?'

'Be my guest, Master,' Jem said, 'it's lovely.' And it was by no means an unpleasant feeling, Jem thought, to be upended on Headman's bed while his strong and expert fingers gently explored the moistening crevices of the hollow beneath her buttocks. But she could not abandon herself completely to the thrills that started to tingle in her loins; she could not forget that the telephone in her room had failed to work that morning, that Jenny had not appeared to help her dress, and that the Round Tower was deserted. Headman had told her that this was usual on a Saturday in the Private House, but Jem was still worried.

'I have a present for you,' Headman said, his thumb wriggling into her while his fingertips circled her clitoris, it's wrapped up and waiting in the study. Shall we go and play with it?'

Jem murmured frustratedly. 'I'm just getting comfortable,' she protested, pushing up her bottom to chase Headman's retreating hand. He laughed, rolled her off his lap, stretched, and threw aside the bedclothes.

'What shall I wear today, Jem?' he said.

'Something light and summery?' Jem suggested, it would suit your mood, if not the weather.'

'I don't think so, Jem,' he said, standing in the doorway of his dressing room. 'Dark and forbidding, that's my style, I'm afraid. And your present will necessitate the wearing of my dungeon equipment. One person's reward is often another's punishment, you see.'

Once again Jem suppressed a shiver of fear. 'So I'm OK in this leather gear?' she said, forcing her foot into the black cylinder of a thigh-high boot.

That's why I asked you to wear it,' Headman said, buckling chains and belts around his grizzled body. 'We'll make a matched pair. You look very wonderful in a black corset. And there's no odour in the world that's quite as inspiring as the mingled scents of sweat-soaked leather and female sex. Don't you agree?'

'Absolutely,' Jem said, and followed him from the bedroom with a feeling of foreboding.

Headman held open the door of his study and ushered Jem past him. The desk had been moved aside, and in its place at the'centre of the book-lined room stood a large box. It was wrapped in colourful paper and swathed in ribbons; it was obviously the present Headman had promised Jem.

It was the shape of the box that alarmed Jem. It was quite narrow, but taller than her. Images from old gangster movies flashed through her mind: hit-men being delivered, dead and bloody, as taunts to their employer. Was there a body in the box? Whose? For the first time, her fears must have shown in her expression.

'Don't worry,' Headman said impatiently. 'It's nothing too terrible. Open it and see.'

Hardly reassured, Jem stepped forward and tugged at the ribbons and paper. There were airholes in the wooden case that was revealed as the gift wrapping fell away. The box was a mock-up anyway, Jem realised. It was made of thin plywood boards, tacked together, and it couldn't have been used to carry anything. It must have been knocked together hurriedly here, in the study, around its contents. Jem was able to prise the panels apart with her fingers, and the entire structure collapsed on the carpet.

'Voila
/' Headman murmured. 'A present from me to you.' Jem stared in silent amazement at the object standing in the middle of the room.

It was a human figure. A woman, Jem realised; the figure's breasts were visible. Almost every other part of her body, however, was encased in shining black rubber. To buy time in which to try to identify the woman, Jem walked slowly round her. The woman's mouth and jaw were visible; the rest of her head was enveloped in a latex hood. The rubber suit, which appeared to consist of one tight-fitting garment, covered her from neck to toe - apart from the two holes in front through which her breasts protruded, and a larger hole which revealed her buttocks and extended between her legs to leave uncovered her genitalia and the insides of her thighs. The flesh of her hips and upper thighs bulged out of the constricting suit. Her arms were secured behind her back with black leather belts, each wrist secured to the elbow of the other arm, pushing her torso forward. Her legs were held apart by a metal rod strapped to her ankles. She couldn't see, and Jem guessed that she couldn't hear much through the latex hood. Her skin was very pale, and Jem breathed a sigh of relief: the woman obviously wasn't Asmita, or Julia, or Lucy. She was tall and slim, and her pubic hair was pale blonde; she reminded Jem of someone, but the rubber suit made identification impossible.