Molly's Boudoir: the 4th Jasmine Frame novel (Jasmine Frame Detective)

by P R Ellis

  They joined a busy A road, familiar to Jasmine, and she was able to ensure that there was always at least one car between her and Tyler. Soon they were on the outskirts of Basingstoke. Jasmine was a little surprised when they turned off into the car park of a budget hotel and restaurant – not Harriet’s usual standard of accommodation. Jasmine followed and parked some distance from the Mercedes. She sat in her car and watched Tyler and Harriet walk into the building. Harriet was dressed in a smart woollen jacket and skirt with knee high boots in shiny black. They had very high stiletto heels which made Harriet rely on Tyler for support. Tyler carried a small holdall.

  Jasmine got out of the Mini, straightened her skirt and hitched her bag over her shoulder. She crossed the car park to the entrance and took a swift look around. The restaurant was busy with young families and elderly couples. Harriet and Tyler were seating themselves at a table for four in a quieter, secluded alcove. Jasmine looked for somewhere where she could see but not be seen. She noticed a vacant table for two behind a tall pot plant, real or artificial, and she hurried to take possession of it. Harriet and her lover were examining the printed menus. What should she do? Viv was preparing a meal for later in the day when he expected her home. She didn’t want to eat now. Perhaps a coffee and a light snack would be sufficient cover. Her glance was passing between her subjects and the menu when she was approached by a waitress. She gave her choice, a simple paté starter, quickly, so as not to draw too much attention to herself. Then she made a show of looking at her phone to feign disinterest in her surroundings.

  Just a few minutes had passed when another person joined Harriet and Tyler. He was a slim man, middle-aged, with short, greying hair. He was dressed in a pair of nondescript brown trousers, a check shirt, plain red tie and a wind-cheater. He stood by the table until Harriet pointed to the seat opposite her. Then he sat and seemed to make himself shrink with his knees pressed together and arms folded in his lap. Another of Harriet’s acolytes, as Nicholls called them, Jasmine was certain. She wondered what his forfeit would be to please his mistress.

  Food was delivered to Harriet and Tyler but, Jasmine observed, none to the later arrival. Her own small dish was placed in front of her and she ate slowly, keeping an eye on the other table. She was surprised when, very soon, the three people all rose to their feet and started to leave the restaurant. There had been no sign of payment taking place.

  Jasmine gulped her coffee, and scrabbled in her bag for her wallet. She pulled out a ten pound note and dropped it on the table. That would surely cover her light lunch. She stood up and hurried in the direction the party had taken. In the foyer she saw Harriet and her supposed slave pass through a door into the hotel part of the building, but Tyler wasn’t with them. Had he left them to carry out their “business”? She followed the pair at a discreet distance. They took the lift but there were only two floors. Jasmine galloped up the stairs, slowing as she reached the top. She peered around a corner to look along a corridor. Harriet was pushing a door into a room open and ushering her slave inside. Jasmine crept along the corridor as the door closed and locked with a loud clunk.

  Jasmine stood with her back against the wall alongside the door. She listened carefully. There was no sound from this or any other room, just the usual drone of air conditioning. What should she do? Confronting Harriet while she had one of her slaves with her would be interesting, but the door was locked so she couldn’t simply walk in on them. She didn’t think Harriet would respond if she knocked, unless of course she thought it was Tyler. No, Harriet would have given him instructions not to disturb her while she was seeing to her slave. Perhaps she should just wait and surprise them when they emerged.

  Minutes passed. No one else went along the corridor or came out of rooms. She was getting bored of standing. She crouched down, crawled to the doorway and pressed her ear to the wooden door. She listened carefully. Was that a rustle or a muffled voice?

  The blow to the back of her head sent her sprawling along the carpeted corridor. Her vision blurred and pain filled her head. She pushed her hands against the floor to raise herself up. A hand grabbed the collar of her coat and dragged her onto her knees. He was leaning over her – Tyler Smith. The door of the room was open. He dragged her inside and let the door close behind them.

  ‘Look what I found listening outside the door,’ Smith said.

  Jasmine was on her hands and knees. She bent her neck to raise her head, sending arrows of pain piercing her mind. In front of her, on the patch of floor between the en-suite and the double bed, there was a chair in which Harriet sat. Her legs were stretched out in front of her. The mouth of the slave was pressed against the shiny black, patent leather boots. He knelt with his naked buttocks raised and his arms pinioned behind his back. There was a dog collar around his neck with a lead which ended in Harriet’s hand

  Harriet didn’t move, but she looked down at Jasmine then up at her lover.

  ‘What have you done now, Tyler?’

  ‘I told you. She was snooping so I clobbered her.’

  ‘Well, that’s a pretty problem you’ve set me, isn’t it?’ She looked down at the slave and gave a tug to the lead. ‘Get on with it.’ His tongue emerged from between his lips and he proceeded to lick the leather boots.

  ‘What was I supposed to do?’ Tyler appealed.

  ‘Well, you could have just watched her until we’d finished. Interfering little sneak that she is, there was nothing she could do while we minded our own business. I imagine she couldn’t even hear anything outside the door; they’re solid enough.’

  Jasmine pushed herself into a sitting position while her head rocked and rolled. She felt sick. She felt the back of her head. There was no blood but she could feel a lump developing. She looked up at Tyler wondering what he’d hit her with. His gloved fist seemed to be the answer.

  ‘Well, that’s one count of actual bodily harm I can get you with,’ she said. The words came out slightly garbled as if she was drunk, or concussed.

  ‘You can shut up,’ Harriet said. ‘You’d better stop her interfering, Tyler. There’s another set of cuffs in the bag, and a ball gag. Use Winkle’s tie on her ankles. Better get her boots off first.’

  Tyler squeezed past Jasmine to collect the items. This was her chance, Jasmine thought. She twisted round to face the door, heaved herself onto her feet and staggered two small steps towards the door. Her limbs were leaden and she felt as though she was on a storm-tossed boat. She thudded into the door.

  ‘No, you don’t. You’re not leaving.’ Tyler’s hand grabbed her shoulder. She fell back onto him. His arms encircled her and he dragged her backwards into the bathroom. He rolled her over onto her stomach. The smooth floor felt reassuringly steady as her head continued to rock with the swell. He drew her hands behind her back and she felt cold metal against her wrists. There was a click as the handcuffs locked. She tried to move her arms to test them but they were immobile.

  He moved to her feet undid the zips and tugged the boots off. He quickly tied her ankles tightly together. Then he crouched over her, grabbed her hair and pulled her head back forcing her mouth open. With his spare hand he stuffed a ball in her mouth. He released her head and fastened the strap of the gag behind her neck. She felt his weight leave her and then the door of the bathroom closed. The light in the windowless room went off. Jasmine lay still letting the throbbing pain in her head subside. At least she could breathe. The ball that filled her mouth was hollow and had holes to allow air to enter and leave. When her mind cleared a little, she rolled on to her back, pushed herself into a seated position and leaned her back against the shower cabinet.

  Now what? The first thing that occurred to her was that it was just past lunchtime and time for her mid-day dilations. The regular exercise had become such a routine that it dominated her day. The fear of her vagina closing up was a powerful one but she dismissed it. One missed session wouldn’t matter, would it? There were far more pressing questions, like how to get out of this mess. W
hy had Tyler responded so violently to her bit of covert surveillance? What would Harriet’s reaction be? She listened to the muffled conversation going on in the bedroom. She couldn’t make out a word of it.

  It seemed like a long time but was probably only an hour or so when the door to the bathroom opened. The light came on. It was Tyler. He reached down and pulled her to her feet. With her ankles bound together she couldn’t stand or walk. Instead he dragged her from the bathroom and dropped her, without any particular care, on the floor beside the bed. She rolled over so that she could see what was happening.

  Harriet was still sitting in the one easy chair that the room provided. The slave, that she had called Winkle, was still naked but now was standing with his back to the window. His hands remained fastened behind his back. The chain of the lead hung down to his thighs between which Jasmine could see the steel cage trapping his penis.

  Jasmine made a noise which emerged from the gag as a sort of gurgle. She hoped it would urge Harriet to remove it so she could speak. It didn’t.

  ‘You can stop making that noise. I don’t want to hear your voice, you interfering piece of snot. If you don’t shut up I’ll get Tyler to make you.’

  Jasmine guessed that Tyler was possibly quite eager to carry out that command. His sudden attack on her had allowed her to reassess her opinion of him. Not a besotted, spoilt toy-boy, but a violent, obedient servant who earned his moments of ecstasy with his lover. If he had returned to Thirsbury on the evening of the fire she could imagine him being the person that had murdered Evelyn. The evidence was piling up. All she had to do was get out of this alive.

  ‘I’ll get rid of her,’ Tyler said in a voice that chilled Jasmine.

  ‘Not here,’ Harriet replied, ‘You’ll leave evidence however careful you are. We didn’t come equipped to dispose of a body. There’s probably some way we could be traced here even though the room’s paid for in Winkle’s name.’

  ‘Hmm, right,’ was Tyler’s response.

  ‘So we get her out of here, and get rid of her somewhere else,’ Harriet said.

  ‘Don’t forget her car,’ Tyler said, ‘that blue Mini that we saw following us from Kintbridge.’ He directed the last bit at Jasmine. So much for my tailing skills, she thought. Perhaps the Mini was a bit too visible after all.

  ‘That’s easy,’ Harriet said, ‘Winkle can drive it away and dump it somewhere a long way from here.’

  ‘But I’ve got my own car,’ the slave said.

  Harriet glared at him. ‘Quiet! You can come back later to collect your car. You’re booked into this room till tomorrow morning. This is what we do. Tyler will drive his car round the back to the fire escape exit. Then you’ll take her down the back stairs and put her in the car. Winkle will leave in the Mini and you’ll come around the front to pick me up. We leave and no one’s the wiser.’

  ‘We’re not going to take her back to the house, are we?’ Tyler asked.

  Harriet pondered. ‘No, that’s known to the police and they may give us a visit. I’ll find somewhere else. One of the others can dispose of her. Someone is going to earn a lovely lot of pleasure.’ She reached for her capacious handbag, rummaged inside and pulled out a small notebook. She turned the pages slowly until she found one that took her fancy.

  ‘This one will do. I’ll check he’s in.’ She picked out her phone from the bag and dialled a number. She held the phone to her ear. Jasmine could hear the ringing. It stopped and there was a voice.

  ‘Good afternoon, Peewee. It’s your Mistress.’ There was some unintelligible reply, ‘Yes, I know this is a surprise and an honour for you. You don’t have to go babbling on. I have something for you to do. Do you have a spare room? You do. Very good. I will be bringing a person that I want you to look after for a few days. You don’t have to ask any questions. I will ensure you are rewarded. We will be with you in an hour or two. Make sure you are ready for my arrival.’ She took the phone from her ear and stabbed the screen with a finger-tip. ‘There, done.’

  Tyler grinned.

  ‘Winkle, come here.’ Harriet ordered. The slave scurried around the bed to be at her side. ’Kneel.’ He knelt facing her. ‘No, the other way, idiot.’ He shuffled around on his knees. Harriet reached forward undid the collar and released the hand cuffs. ‘Get up and get dressed.’

  He got to his feet, rubbing his wrists as he did so. He reached for the pile of neatly folded clothes that had been placed at the end of the bed. He pulled on the shirt and trousers, apparently, he went knickerless, tugged on socks and shoes and pulled the windcheater over his shoulders.

  ‘Find her car keys,’ Harriet ordered. Tyler picked up Jasmine’s bag that had lain on the floor by the door since her enforced entry. He unzipped it and tipped it upside down. As he scattered the contents, Jasmine’s phone began to ring and vibrate across the carpet. He stamped on it, shattering the screen into tiny fragments. The ringtone ceased.

  Harriet clapped her hands slowly and lightly. ‘Well done, Tyler. We’ve got bits of phone all over the floor now. Winkle, start putting them back in the bag. Make sure you get every piece.’ The slave got down onto his knees and picked up the larger bits of the phone.

  Tyler shuffled Jasmine’s other possessions, picking up the keys to the Mini. He also picked up her dilator.

  ‘What’s this?’ He asked raising it up for all of them to see. ‘A dildo? A pretty boring one if it is.’

  Harriet peered at it. ‘Ah, I know. She’s only just had her cock cut off. She has to stuff that up her new hole to keep it open. Is that right, you little fake?’

  Jasmine nodded.

  Tyler giggled. ‘I’d like to see that.’

  ‘You what?’ Harriet laughed. ‘You want to see what an artificial cunt looks like. Well, I suppose you’re like all men. You’d stick your cock in any hole offered to you. Maybe I’ll let you when we get her somewhere else, but I’m disappointed, Tyler. I thought it was only my delightful fanny you had a longing for.’

  Tyler mumbled something like ‘Of course, darling.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get a move on,’ Harriet urged. ‘Give the keys to Winkle, then go and bring the car round the back. We’ll wait here for you to return.’

  Tyler tossed the keys in the direction of the slave who was still bent over on the carpet. He fumbled them and they fell to the floor. Harriet tutted as he scrambled to pick them up. Tyler left.

  Harriet addressed the slave. ‘Go down to the fire exit and let Tyler in. Don’t draw attention to yourself.’ Winkle did as he was told. Harriet let out a sigh and stretched out her black booted legs. She looked down at Jasmine.

  ‘What are we going to do with you? Tyler does over-react rather and then leaves me to pick up the pieces. Now I’ve got to deal with you and I’m not having you ruin my life.’

  She closed her eyes as if taking a nap. Jasmine struggled against the handcuffs binding her arms behind her back, but they were secure. There was no chance of escape. She couldn’t see how she was going to get away but she had to stay alert to any opportunity. The trouble was that the throbbing in her head was distracting her.

  Some minutes later, Tyler and Winkle returned.

  ‘There’s no one around the back at the moment but we’d better get moving,’ Tyler said.

  ‘Well, don’t stand around, get her down there. Help him, Winkle.’

  The two men each grabbed one of Jasmine’s arms and pulled her to her feet. They dragged her to the door, glanced up and down the corridor and then set off to the fire escape at the opposite end from the lift. The stairs were bare concrete and Jasmine’s ankles got a bashing as they hauled her downwards. Tyler barged the fire door open and they carried her to the car just outside. The boot opened electronically and like the cliché sack of potatoes, Jasmine was dumped inside. The boot closed and locked. She was trapped.

  The car began to move slowly and then stopped. Jasmine felt the suspension adjust as someone, presumably Harriet got in, the door clunked shut and then they were off.
The speed increased and Jasmine was thrown around by the manoeuvres. Then they settled down to a steady drive. Jasmine began to feel chilled as the cold air rushing under the car cooled the floor of the boot.

  20

  SUNDAY 20th OCTOBER

  AFTERNOON, LATER

  The car came to a halt. Jasmine rolled against the bulkhead. Then there was some more manoeuvring before the engine stopped. She felt cold and stiff. Her mouth was dry having spent an hour drooling through the gag. Swallowing was really difficult with the plastic ball filling her mouth. The boot lid swung open. She looked up to see sky and Tyler Smith leaning over. He dragged her into a sitting position. She saw that they were backed up a driveway between houses. There was a door open alongside the car. Harriet was standing in the doorway talking to a naked man. He was bent over, his head bobbing as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. Jasmine corrected herself. He wasn’t allowed to look at her.

  Tyler put his arms beneath her and heaved. He lifted her out of the boot, staggered the few steps to the doorway and dropped her on the floor inside.

  ‘Hurry up,’ Harriet insisted, ‘Get the door closed. We don’t want neighbours watching, or seeing you naked, Peewee. Why on earth haven’t you got some clothes on.’

  ‘You said to be ready for your arrival,’ the man whined, ‘Mistress de la Clef always desires her slaves to be naked.’

  From the floor, Jasmine looked up at the skinny, bald man. He looked to be in his late forties and of about average height. He had a silver cage around his penis and testicles, fastened by a sizeable brass padlock. Harriet slapped him around the face.

  ‘Don’t be cheeky, Peewee, and don’t anticipate what I might want of you. Now don’t waste time. Help Tyler get this object up to your spare room.’

  Tyler reached down to grab Jasmine around her torso and drag her to her feet. Peewee took her ankles and together they carried her up the stairs and into a bedroom. She was dumped onto a double bed that had a bare mattress and chromed steel bars at the head and foot. Harriet pulled the curtains across the window. She turned and looked at Jasmine.