by G. C. Scott
‘Why do you think Margaret wants me to dress and act like a woman? And why a new passport?’ Richard asked.
‘I think I know why, but the answer will take more time than I have now. I will come up here for lunch with you. Make something nice, and we will talk about you and Margaret and what she wants.’
Richard practised sitting and standing and walking about, until he got more accustomed to moving around the apartment. He even went down the stairs without mishap. While he was downstairs, he looked into the shop and saw Ingrid serving a customer. He almost plucked up the courage to let someone else see him, but couldn’t quite manage that yet. He went back upstairs and began to prepare lunch for them both.
Ingrid came up again at midday, and they ate sandwiches and salad. When they had finished, she began to talk about Margaret. ‘Margaret and I are half-sisters,’ she told him. ‘Her father married my mother when I was ten years old, and she was born about two years later. From the time she could talk, she always tried to get her own way, and since she was so pretty both my mother and stepfather indulged her. I suppose I did the same. As a result, she grew up believing everyone should obey her wishes. By the time we noticed that she was becoming tyrannical, it was too late to do anything about it, so I suppose we were all at fault. We all helped her become the domineering woman she now is.
‘As she got older, I realised she must have been badly frightened about sex by someone, because she had a hard time with boys, even though she was a beautiful young woman. I don’t know what happened, but even now she has difficulty in letting herself enjoy a normal relationship with any man. I know she is not a virgin, because I walked in and caught her and some boy at it one afternoon. She was on top, which I now know is her position of choice in all matters, not merely in sexual relationships. It was an accident, and I tried to apologise, but she was very angry, as if I had seen her doing something shameful.
‘She never saw the boy again. I suppose she could not bear to face him after I had seen them together. There were not many other boys as she grew up. And she made certain I never caught her having sex again – not that it mattered to me what she did.
‘At university she spent all her free time studying. No one could persuade her to join in the social scene. Margaret graduated in just two years with an honours degree in business studies, and she got a job in one of the big banks in Stuttgart right out of university. That was when she adopted her favourite dress style: severe suits, always in a dark colour. Even so she looks attractive, but she almost always rebuffs any advances. She began to make some high-powered contacts in her years in Stuttgart. She was promoted again and again, and finally became a travelling negotiator for the bank. Not many women get that far even now. But she was not satisfied. She said she resented working for men, who got the best jobs and the best salaries.
‘So she quit. She became an independent operator. But she kept her contacts, and now these men come to her for huge money transfers and business loans. And she has done very well for herself. That is how she bought the house. And she continues to do well. She even manages to finance her hobby from the proceeds of her deals. I mean the business of training servants. As I said, she likes to dominate people, and what better way to do so than to train servants?’
‘Do you mean all of the people there are servants?’ Richard asked.
‘No. Most of them are quite genuinely being trained to work for real people, although their employers tend to share Margaret’s views about having power over others. But there are others who are there for the thrill of being dominated. Many of the men come for that reason, men like Raymond, whom you have met. And there are people like yourself, whom I suspect Margaret will use in the other side of her business. I think she is cleaning money, which may not be strictly illegal, but it is not always above board.’
‘Do you mean laundering money?’
‘Yes, I think that is the correct term,’ Ingrid replied. ‘I do not know where this money comes from. Nor, I think, does Margaret: at least, not always. She does not ask any questions, but those who come to her for this service are either the same men she helps in their everyday financial dealings, or people recommended to her by her business associates.’
‘Then why does she need me?’ Richard asked. ‘I have no experience in this kind of thing.’
‘She does not need you specifically, but she needs someone like you. Someone who is on holiday, who has a bit of spare time, someone who is not going to be missed for a while, someone who is susceptible to her offer of training and domination. I believe she will use you as a courier. If you can pass as a woman, she will use you in that way, and no one will know who you are. Later she may decide to use you under a male identity: perhaps when your disguise as a woman becomes too well known. She always needs couriers. I mean, there is always a turnover. You may not be doing anything illegal – merely clandestine. And you will be well rewarded, both in cash and in kind. Margaret is not tight with money.’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘Oh, I keep my eyes and ears open, and I talk to many of the people she sends to me as she did you. And I sometimes do a little of the work myself. The extra cash always comes in handy, and the travel is always first class. I manage several holidays a year in that fashion. When I go, I merely take along an extra suitcase filled with cash, and I deliver it to the bank she designates anywhere in the world.’
Richard suddenly remembered the ‘delivery’ that had come yesterday, the sudden appearance of those identical suitcases. He asked Ingrid what the suitcases were like, and her description matched what he had seen. Several pieces of the puzzle fell into place at once.
‘But what I would like to know,’ Ingrid was saying, ‘is how Margaret happened to choose you. Did she find you in England?’
‘No,’ Richard answered. ‘In Hamburg. And it wasn’t Margaret who selected me. It was Helena. The same girl in the photograph with you. How did you come to know her?’
‘So you have met my foster daughter,’ Ingrid said. She paused, then continued, ‘I am glad you did. Did you like her?’
‘Very much. It’s because of her that I’ve come here. She seemed to believe Margaret would be angry with her if I refused.’
‘Then maybe you can help her. Margaret has some sort of hold over her and makes her do many things she dislikes. I would like to see her free to go her own way. Would you try to find out what Margaret knows about her? Helena will not tell me. Please help her – us.’
Before he could reply, the telephone rang. Ingrid answered it. It soon became clear that it was Margaret calling. Ingrid didn’t say much, mostly ‘yes’, or ‘all right’, but towards the end she managed to tell Margaret that he would need some more instruction before he was ready to be seen in public. Most especially, he would need some practice in visiting public places.
‘Yes, I know you plan to do your own training, Margaret,’ Ingrid was saying, ‘but you are busy, and anyway you tend more to the stick than the carrot. Both kinds of training are needed. Yes, all right. I will see you in an hour or so. Richard will be ready to go with you.’
She hung up and turned back to Richard. ‘She will come to pick you up in one hour. You will be going back to her country house, but I have managed to persuade her that you need to come to me for some further training.’ Ingrid smiled slightly at the last word. ‘I have had good reason to change my mind about younger men,’ she told him. ‘But will you also help me with Helena’s problem? I need to know why Helena fears Margaret. She may tell you what she will not tell me.’ Ingrid had a slightly desperate look as she spoke of the problem of her foster daughter and her half-sister.
Richard nodded. ‘But I don’t know when I’ll be able to see Helena again. Margaret keeps me locked up in the servants’ quarters.’
‘I will find a way to help,’ Ingrid promised. ‘I can come and go as I like at Margaret’s estate, and I will get you out when I can – when Helena is here. I think that will be in one or two days, so be ready
. Now that Margaret thinks you cannot run away dressed like that, you will find you have more freedom to move about the house than before. You must try to convince Margaret that you like her training. She will then allow you even more freedom. And who knows,’ Ingrid said with a half smile, ‘you may really enjoy it. Others do.’
Margaret came up to Ingrid’s apartment, where Richard was waiting for her. He had grown accustomed to being with Ingrid, but he felt terribly embarrassed when Margaret saw him for the first time in his new dress. At the same time, he was aware of an excitement which made his cock stiffen inside the tight corselet which confined it. He stood uneasily when Margaret came into the room. Ingrid had told him she liked to see that show of deference. She looked him over, and then turned to Ingrid, who also showed signs of uneasiness.
‘He will do for now,’ Margaret announced, and Ingrid relaxed a bit. ‘I will take him with me now, and you can start making his maid’s uniform. Can you be ready with that in three more days?’ The question was more of a command than anything.
Ingrid nodded. ‘Bring Richard back then, and everything will be ready.’ She changed the subject abruptly: ‘When can I see Helena again?’
At first Margaret seemed inclined to ignore her half-sister’s demand but, finally, she said, ‘Next week. I’ll bring her here at the same time I drop Richard off. She might enjoy seeing him outfitted.’ Margaret smiled scornfully, and continued, ‘Speaking of being outfitted, Richard will need a handbag. No woman would be seen without one.’
Ingrid nodded. ‘I think he should have a shoulder bag. He is not accustomed to a handbag and he might forget it somewhere, until it becomes more a part of him. I have selected one that will go with almost anything.’ She indicated a black bag with a shoulder strap on the bureau.
Richard picked it up and Ingrid showed him how to sling it casually. ‘That will do for now, but he needs to have his own make-up and the other things a woman carries in her bag,’ she said.
Margaret nodded. ‘We will go shopping now.’ She beckoned Richard to follow her and left without another word to Ingrid.
Richard cast one look of appeal over his shoulder, which she caught. Ingrid mouthed, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.’
Then he turned to follow Margaret. The high-heeled shoes tapped loudly on the stairs as he went down, and he was holding on to the handrail in case he fell.
Four
Richard spent the next week learning what Margaret meant by submission and obedience, a not altogether painful experience. He discovered that he enjoyed the role he was coerced into more than he had anticipated. Perhaps that was due as much to Margaret’s skill at blending pain and pleasure, submission and humiliation, reward and scolding. Whatever had led Helena to select Richard for Margaret to train made him respond to the regime imposed on him. He began to look forward eagerly to the next time Margaret would come to him with her demands.
He was locked into his room at night, when he was expected to take care of his personal needs and look after the wardrobe Ingrid had selected for him. This mainly meant hand-washing the lingerie, corselets and tights he wore during the day, and shaving his legs whenever they began to get rough. The dresses were taken to the laundry by Heidi, and returned to him ready to wear the next morning. On the first evening, she had come in when he was taking the dress off. She had watched silently as he struggled with the back zipper, then had helped him with the task. ‘You must learn to do this on your own,’ she warned him. ‘When Margaret sends you on a job, there will be no one to unzip you.’ And she had shown him the proper contortions to accomplish the job.
By the end of the third day he was able to walk in the high-heeled shoes without fear of losing his balance, and Margaret began to coach him to move more naturally and unselfconsciously about the house, so that he would not call attention to himself when he was in public. She used a bamboo cane to reinforce her instructions, and to correct any mistakes he made. So whenever he stumbled she was likely to crack him across the bottom, or the backs of his legs. Similarly, when he failed to stand erect, she lashed him on the back or across his stomach. It was an effective method, and Richard found himself wondering with a curious excitement what it would be like if Margaret decided to use the cane for more than the occasional corrective blow.
Perhaps that was why he was clumsy with the tea things when called upon to serve Margaret and an unknown man, to whom she was more than usually deferent. They had been discussing some financial transaction, when Richard entered the room without knocking. Margaret looked up in annoyed surprise, and he stumbled and spilt sugar on the floor. The visitor took no notice of the accident, but they both stopped talking at once as if unwilling to have their conversation overheard. Richard noticed one of the same suitcases he had seen earlier. He guessed that another cash transfer was being arranged. Margaret glared at Richard and signalled for him to withdraw. From the hall he heard their voices resume in the sitting room.
When Margaret sent for him later, Richard saw that she was still angry. He thought her anger made her more exciting. Wordlessly, she beckoned him into the long dining room and closed the door behind them.
He had never been inside the room properly, only catching glimpses of it through the open door in passing. Now he saw that it contained a long table with seats for perhaps sixteen people. One wall was entirely of glass, allowing the sunlight to enter the room whenever the heavy drapes were pulled back, as they were now. French windows opened on to a patio, and there was a long view across the side garden to a distant line of trees. There was no one in sight in all that open land.
But it was not the view that held Richard’s eye. In the corner farthest from the door was a whipping frame. That was obvious to him, even though he had never seen one before. It consisted of three wooden upright posts joined at the top, their feet resting on the carpeted floor. There were horizontal poles just above floor level fitted into the uprights in order to prevent them shifting. The device had been made with some care. The joints were carefully fitted, and the wood had been polished so that it was almost a part of the room’s furnishings. But it stood apart from the table and the chairs, its purpose entirely different from the rest of the furniture.
Margaret rang a bell, and presently Marie appeared at the door. She still wore her leg-irons, but seemed unselfconscious about them. Margaret ordered her to fetch rope from the basement. When she had gone, Margaret turned to Richard and ordered him to take his clothes off. He managed to unzip the dress on his own this time, and he stepped out of it to stand before Margaret in slip, tights and corselet. She motioned him to hang the dress over a chair and to get out of his underwear as well. Soon he was naked before her angry gaze.
His cock, taped to his belly as Ingrid had shown him, nevertheless began to stiffen. Margaret noticed but said only, ‘We’ll see how it feels after you’ve been disciplined.’ They both stood silently until Marie came back with a coil of rope and a kitchen knife. She handed these items to Margaret and withdrew silently, but not before she had caught Richard’s eye and made a mock grimace of sympathy for him.
Margaret closed the door and beckoned Richard to follow her to the whipping frame. She tied his hands together in front of him and had him stand on one of the horizontal base bars so that his feet were off the floor. Then, standing on another of the same bars, she lifted his bound wrists and tied them to the apex of the triangle. She spread his ankles and tied them to adjacent poles. Richard found that he could stand comfortably enough but of course could not free himself.
Only when he was secured did Margaret offer any explanation for her anger. ‘I never allow the servants to overhear my business affairs. You should have knocked before entering the room. The man I was entertaining is very important to my business, and he wishes to remain anonymous. You will not do that again.’
Richard started to say that he had not known the importance of anonymity, but in the end remained silent. Ignorance was no defence in Margaret’s eyes. Nor was anything else, once
she had decided to assert her dominance. This much he had learnt from casual conversation among his fellow servants.
Margaret left the room and returned shortly with the bamboo cane she often used to emphasise her instructions. Richard glanced once over his shoulder as she approached him, admiring once again the feline grace of her movements. He would never be able to learn to move as she did. Then he looked away, out to the garden and the tree line as he waited for her to begin.
He didn’t cry out as she struck him. That was his way of letting Margaret know that there were some things she couldn’t make him do – an assertion of his own essential independence, even as he submitted to her will. His silence may have prolonged the beating. But he didn’t think so. If he had cried out or begged her to stop, she would only have struck him harder, he believed. He had learnt from the others that Margaret was never moved by pity. Heidi told of being beaten harder the louder she screamed. She also gave it as her opinion that Margaret enjoyed making others beg her to stop.
Yet even as she whipped him he was conscious of a stirring of excitement. His cock, stiff before she began, remained so throughout the beating. He even felt he was on the verge of orgasm at several points. What was the protocol about that, he wondered? Would Margaret regard it as a victory if she made him come? He wondered if he would be able to stop himself, or if he wanted to. In the end, Margaret decided the issue by stopping before he came.
Richard hung from the ropes that bound him to the frame. His back, bottom and legs felt as if they were on fire. But he had remained silent. Despite her best efforts, Margaret had not been able to break him. When she moved around to stand in front of him, he saw that she was breathing heavily from her efforts. He raised his head and looked into her eyes before lowering it again. She knew that inside he was still untouched. He knew that she would have to try again.