House of Intrigue Read online

  He stood up and moved around in front of her, then leaned forward and rested his hands upon the arms of the chair at either side so that their faces were a short distance apart. She pretended not to notice his arousal, obvious though it was through the towel. He leaned further forward still and their lips met as she placed her arms around his shoulders. Their lips remained together, burning and inflaming. His hand lifted from the chair and moved down to her waist, pulling at the belt of her gown until it loosened and came free. Their lips were still together when he parted the gown and when her hand reached beneath the towel to quickly find and close upon the engorged and eager shaft. She parted her legs to allow him closer, feeling his penis lying hot and pulsing against her stomach. Their kisses continued more fervently, she taking his organ in her cool hand once more and working him back and forth as she had in the shower cubicle.

  After a few moments he pulled away, causing her to release her hold on him, while his mouth closed upon her breasts, circling the erect nipples with his tongue and sucking hard at them in turn. She could see his head moving further down and over her stomach and feeling his lips and hot breath over the firm smooth skin above her sex. She closed her eyes, impatient and ready for him to strike. As his tongue began its wicked game around and within her sex, he placed a hand under each of her knees and lifted her legs up and further apart, bringing them to rest so that they hung over each side of the chair arms, causing her to slip downward and forward in the seat. The tides of lust running through her body were becoming ever stronger and soon she began to lose control of herself. Her breath became shorter and a soft moan passed through her open mouth.

  'He must, now!' she heard herself saying. 'He must, now!'

  But still he did not. Instead, he again seized her legs and rose from the floor as he pushed them up and back until they were hard against the head-rest of her chair and she was doubled up and pinned beneath, sinking down into the seat until she was looking up at him through her widespread thighs. With her behind lifted clear of the chair and pointed almost upwards, she was spread with her most intimate parts open to his gaze and to anything he desired to do. Keeping a firm grip on her knees, he arched his body over her and she watched through half-closed eyes as the glistening head of his shaft slid with tantalising slowness to and fro between the inflamed lips of her sex. She closed her eyes tightly, the word 'please' forming repeatedly but in-audibly on her mouth, her mind and body desperate for relief he would not allow her. He tormented her for endless mental pleadings until she was on the verge of begging loudly. At last he struck, entering her hard and deep, making her cry out with ecstasy now the final surge through the gates of fulfilment had begun. She wanted to pull him deeper into her and engulf him as each stroke brought them both sweeping and spinning, abandoned and plunging, into the whirlpool of orgasm.

  It was morning, and a cold, grey light filtered weakly through a chink in the heavy green curtains. At the bedside, the radio alarm blinked to 7.30 and music began to play. Karen had been awake for almost an hour. She glanced at him. He had not responded to the sound of the radio but remained with his face half buried in the pillow, fast asleep. Slowly and quietly she arose from the bed and in the dim light, made her way to the bathroom.

  When she emerged, he was awake and seated on the edge of the dishevelled bed.

  'Breakfast?' she asked.

  'Yes please,' he answered, reaching down for his travel bag. 'God, I don't usually sleep so late.'

  She moved towards the doorway and then turned. 'I hope you have a good appetite. We need to use everything up;

  'Yes, of course, you're off today.'

  She sensed the disappointment in his voice. As she pulled open the lounge curtains, letting in the grey light, she said to herself, 'He's a nice guy; I could do a lot worse.'

  She was well aware that they had the foundations of a strong relationship and just as aware of the deeper and darker one which was calling her back to the house in France. She placed her hand on the locket above her breasts and saw in her mind those dark eyes searching into her and waiting for her to return. She had phoned Sonia five days ago, in the afternoon, to say she was coming back. Kim had answered the office phone to say that Sonia was away, and so Kim was the first to know. Sonia had contacted her the next morning. She had not sounded overjoyed, but Karen had expected that, for it was not in her character to express her emotions too much. Instead, she had spoken softly, as though she was whispering very closely to the phone. 'I'm very glad, my dear.' She had said little more than that. There was no need. Somehow, that voice and those dark eyes filled so much of her mind that there was no room left for anyone else.

  A few minutes later they sat at the table; plates empty, coffee half finished, the odour of bacon and eggs still hanging in the air. Outside, a car alarm warbled its electronic message to no avail.

  On the radio, a voice announced the nine o'clock news. Karen listened with only moderate attention. Her interest awakened as the voice continued: '... is alleged to have spent three evenings at the apartment of a high-class prostitute while in Brussels helping to negotiate Britain's share of farm subsidies.'

  'Oh well,' said Karen, wondering if any of Sonia's girls were involved. 'As long as someone gets something out of it in the end.'

  'Wouldn't be so bad if they didn't preach to the rest of us,' he commented. 'I see you find it all amusing.'

  'Yes, I do,' she replied, smiling, the images of Annette,

  Cheryl and the others passing vividly through her mind. 'I find it very amusing indeed.'

  He looked at her intently. 'Here, you're not involved in ... I mean, you're not... is that why you won't say where you work or what you do?'

  Karen lifted her hand to the side of her face and laughed. 'Do I strike you as being that well off? The work I do is very ordinary, it really is. And don't think I'm being awkward with you if I can't say where it is. I promised not to for good reasons - you have to believe me.'

  'Yes, I know, and we've been through it several times before. I thought it might be worth a last try.'

  'Yes, I can understand,' she said. She glanced at her watch. 'We have to make a move soon whether we like it or not. You have to be in Birmingham by three and I have a bit of packing and clearing up before the landlord shows up for the keys.'

  As they left the table he put his hand gently on her shoulder.

  'I wish I had time to drive you to the airport but if we were quick, maybe I could at least get you to the terminal. You'd have to wait around there a while I know, but ...'

  'Sweetheart,' she said, kissing him, 'don't worry. We both know you don't have time and even if you did, it's all arranged now. I'm going straight from here to Gatwick by minicab.'

  'God! That must be costing you a fortune.'

  'It's er ... well it's all paid for by the people I work for.'

  'They must want you back very badly,' he continued, helping her to clear the dishes.

  'Yes, I suppose they do,' she answered quietly.

  He carried her two small suitcases down to the ground floor and placed them in the dim hallway behind the oak front door, with its Victorian stained glass filtering the outside light through in red and green.

  They stepped out into the small redbrick porch. A fine drizzle filtered through the cool air. They held each other for a few moments. Her eyes were brimming with hot tears.

  'I'm sorry it's like this,' she whispered. 'You're a lovely man.'

  'Never mind,' he said, kissing her lips, 'next time I see you it will be warm and sunny, and in the evening I'll take you out for the best dinner you ever had - I promise.'

  She watched and waved as his car disappeared around the street corner and on to the main road. She glanced across the street to the dry area of tarmac where his car had stood. Someone else had already pulled up there and was preparing to back in and take the space.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw it was now 10.15. She had 45 minutes to wait before the minicab was due - time enough to pay
a visit to the nearby shops to buy a few items she had persuaded herself she ought to have before she left.

  It was on her way back, as she passed a small row of shops, that a voice called out from a doorway, 'Got any change to spare, love?'

  She turned, startled, to see a youth with greasy, bedraggled hair and old, soiled leather jacket approaching and staring hard at her with his hand outstretched. Behind him, sprawled in the doorway, were two others of similar demeanour and attire, one of them evidently asleep, the other clutching at a small black dog and staring with glazed eyes past her as though he did not comprehend her presence. She clutched her bag and hurried on.

  On turning the corner of the street she slowed and breathed a sigh of relief. Outside the house stood the taxi. Inside it sat the driver, who having arrived earlier than the appointed time, sat quietly reading his newspaper.

  'Not a very good spring so far, is it?' he mused, as they pulled away from the kerb. Karen took a final look at the flat where she had spent the last few weeks. Parting from almost anywhere was sad, she thought. The comfortable little flat was no exception.

  'Yes, it's not very inspiring,' she agreed, looking at the people outside with their black umbrellas and expressionless faces.

  'Whatever happened to global warming eh, miss?' he asked, grinning broadly.

  She smiled back at his creased and worldly-wise face with its bushy moustache and bristled jaw. At least she was travelling to the airport with the prospect of agreeable companionship. This cab company, she thought, must have some arrangement with Sonia. They must carry her girls, perhaps some of her clients here in town. Karen wondered who, and where. She wondered too, if the ice-cool Cheryl who ran part of the operation in London or the wily Annette who spent much of her time at the house, had sat in this very cab and perhaps chatted to this same man.

  'You going somewhere nice, miss?' he asked, cutting into her thoughts.

  'Oh, yes, the south of France.'

  'It'll be warm and sunny there if I'm not mistaken,' he continued.

  'Yes,' she mused, 'I daresay it will.'

  Thanks to the good-humoured conversation of the driver, the journey to the airport had been pleasant. Nevertheless, she was glad to be among the bright lights and semi-chaotic bustle of the terminal building. Unlike some people she had known, who found airports a daunting prospect, she regarded most airports, and this airport in particular, as a gateway to freedom.

  With her cases checked in, Karen had an hour to pass, alone among the throng. At least the flight from Gatwick to Montpellier was running on time. She touched the silver locket with her fingers. Not so very long now.

  'There we are,' announced Pauline coolly, tightening the last strap at the girl's waist so that the cocoon of black leather enclosed her body tightly from neck to just above her hips. Jackie's arms, located within the internal sleeve of the restraining garment, were held immobile and folded across her middle. Her blouse and skirt lay across a nearby chair, though she still wore her small, black lace briefs, her stay-up stockings with their elasticated lace tops, and her black high-heel sandals with their thin ankle straps keeping them in place.

  Pauline, exercising her dominant role in looks as well as behaviour, wore an open neck, long-sleeved blouse of heavy black satin which offered a stark contrast to her sil-ver-blonde pageboy hairstyle. It contrasted too with the fawn jodhpurs and complemented her tight, knee-length riding boots in immaculately cleaned and polished black leather.

  She moved away and around to her desk, saying nothing, watched by the anxious and equally silent Jackie, who stood in the middle of the room. Jackie was often subject to restraint. Sometimes it was in the 'line of duty'; in her role as the damsel in distress or as the victim of evil machinations in the dramas played out and recorded in designated parts of the house. She knew it might be so here as well, for ever alert Pauline, always quick to catch her out for some trivial misdemeanour, had recorded her supposedly private punishments in this room several times before.

  Apprehension would not beset her unless she knew she was guilty of serious transgression, but on this occasion she could recall no reason why she should be standing here wearing the straitjacket unless, perhaps, she had overlooked some minor task in her duties. If that was the case, she could expect to be kept like this for the rest of the afternoon to prevent her from going down to the pool or joining the others for a game of tennis.

  'Now,' said Pauline, leaning back in her green leather chair, her hands placed in front of her on the desk top, 'how long have you known she was coming back?'

  The word 'she' was emphasised with more than a hint of spite.

  'Known ... who?'

  'Now don't be stupid,' answered Pauline, regarding her with the fixed gaze of her cold blue eyes, 'you know perfectly well who I'm referring to. Miss Prim and Proper, that's who.'

  Jackie shook her long, light brown hair nervously and it spilled down over the black leather.

  'Well, speak!' shouted Pauline, rising from the chair. 'And don't dare tell me any of your silly lies!'

  'I... I can't remember exactly; just the other day. That's all, honestly!'

  Pauline reached down to the desk and pulled open a drawer. When she moved away from the desk and into full view, Jackie saw what she held and moved a step backward. She looked not at Pauline's stern expression, but at the small, black, braided leather whip curled up in her right hand.

  'No! No, please! Don't use that on me!'

  'I want to know who told you and when, and I want to know right now!' She grasped Jackie's shoulder and pulled her around. 'Now!' she repeated, bringing the whip down sharply across the girl's thinly-veiled behind.

  Jackie let out a shriek and twisted her body from side to side against the restraint, knowing as she did so that such effort was quite futile.

  'All right! I found out a week ago. I heard somebody say in the bar.'

  'Who?' demanded Pauline.

  'I don't know, I don't know, you must believe me!' The whip descended with a crack, making the girl jerk and cry out once more. She looked at Pauline with tears welling in her eyes. 'Please! I don't want to get anyone into trouble. Please!' The whip raised again and Jackie flinched. 'I think ... I think it might have been Kim.'

  'Good! We're getting there. Now, why didn't you come and tell me?'

  Jackie hesitated, fearful of saying the wrong thing.

  'I thought you'd know. I was sure you did.'

  'And what have I told you in the past?'

  'What... what do you mean?'

  'You silly little bitch!' shouted Pauline, bringing the whip down for a third time with greater force than before. Jackie shrieked, then began to cry. 'Now! What have I told you to do when you see and hear things?'

  She looked at Pauline with warm tears streaming down her face. 'You've told me to come and tell you, just to make sure.'

  'Right! And as so often, you take not a bit of bloody notice until you get a damn good hiding!'

  'But you're making me tell tales on people,' Jackie moaned. 'It's not fair! You know it's not fair!'

  'I'll tell you what's fair!' growled Pauline. 'What's fair is that I do my job - the job Sonia pays me to do - and that is making sure you all keep to the rules. Her rules, not mine! What you think about it doesn't matter but I need to know at all times what is going on! Do you understand?'

  'Yes! All right! Yes!'

  'Yes! All the animals in the zoo might be lovely to look at but we still need a keeper whether you and the rest of them agree with it or not.' She walked slowly around the trembling Jackie, curling the black whip around her hand then straightening it out again. 'I don't know why Sonia's having her back. Anyone could do her job, even you. Your problem is your mouth. When you ought to keep it shut you open it and when you should speak out you don't. It seems to me keeping you under more control and out of mischief would be better for both of us.' Jackie looked at her and opened her mouth slightly as if to speak, but no words came out. 'If you want your freedom, yo
u'll have to earn it, especially when she's back. Keep me informed about what everyone is up to and you can keep on enjoying the pool and the tennis, as well as the bar in the evenings. Carry on as you are and you'll find things very different, just the way they are going to be for the rest of this afternoon.'

  'What? What do you mean?' She glanced down at her arms, encased in the tight leather restraint. 'I can't do anything like this, can I?'

  'You ought to know better than that by now,' remarked Pauline, eyeing her from head to toe.

  Jackie waited as Pauline disappeared into the sinister darkened room, opposite to the side where her desk stood, a room with which Jackie had previous acquaintance. When she reappeared, she carried a black plastic bag which she placed down on a small circular table.

  'Sit down on there,' she ordered, indicating one of the low, green leather stools which stood by the table. Jackie obeyed in silence.

  'You'll wear this until six o'clock,' said Pauline, moving behind her. But Jackie, trembling in apprehension again, did not see what Pauline held in her hands. Moments later she knew, for the leather harness was placed over her head and the room vanished into darkness as the two triangular leather pads were fitted over her eyes. No sooner were the straps of the harness partially adjusted than the rubber ball was pushed into her mouth. The buckles swished and rattled as the straps were tightened about her head and under her chin, pressing the soft pads more firmly over her eyes and holding the ball securely in her open mouth.

  It was when Pauline knelt down to place the short leather straps around her legs that she noticed the small area of moisture at the front of Jackie's briefs. She had expected that. She knew how easily aroused Jackie was and how the restraints and punishments would at once excite her and at the same time prevent her from achieving her desires.

  'You'll sit here quietly and without moving,' she said, fastening up the leg straps. 'If you make a fuss or move around, you know what to expect, don't you?'

  The sky over Montpellier was a clear, dusty blue and the sun low in the afternoon sky. The sound of the jet engines diminished as the aircraft banked around, preparing for its final descent. Shafts of bright sunlight sped along the cabin as they turned into the main runway approach. Karen peered out over the fields, vineyards and the lazy countryside, watching the ground swing about and rise towards her. She clutched at the edges of the in-flight magazine on her knee. Landings always made her nervous, regardless of the destination.