Cheryl and Valerie returned to him, Cheryl holding something small in her hand. They stood before him and Cheryl ordered, 'Open your mouth a little and stay absolutely still!'
He obeyed until she raised up her hand to reveal the pink lipstick.
'Hey, no!' he objected, pulling away and almost stumbling on the high heels. Cheryl switched the lipstick to her other hand and slapped him across the mouth. He stopped moving and looked at her in disbelief.
'What did I say?' scolded Cheryl, her blue eyes staring into his. She thrust her arm out towards the table. 'See that! Well? Go on, look!'
He turned. On the table remained one thing only. The short, braided black whip lay coiled, meaningful and menacing.
'Further disobedience and you will get five strokes of that! If you have not experienced it before, I can assure you that you won't quickly forget it!'
She moved closer and raised up the lipstick. 'Shall we try again?'
'Your duties, on this occasion, will be confined to this apartment,' said Cheryl. 'You will be alone for about an hour and a half. The cleaning materials are in the small room about half way down this side of the corridor. If you're quick you probably won't be seen.' They moved towards the door and Cheryl looked over her shoulder. 'We're going down to the gym. When we get back I will expect to find that you have done a complete and thorough job in here and in the bathroom. If you have not, the restraint will be kept on for as long as necessary!'
He stood unmoving for some minutes after the door had closed, almost in a state of incomprehension. He looked about the room, planning how to go about doing what he knew had to be done. But there was something he had to do first. He walked to the bathroom. As he moved, he was very much aware of how the rubber stretched and tensed about his body, and how it caressed with almost life-like insistence against his swollen, yearning, yet confined organ. They were right. Turning before the large mirror, he found it difficult to believe, at first, that the erotically bizarre image which confronted him and mimicked his every move, was indeed himself. The disturbing sensuality he had earlier begun to feel was becoming intensified. He more than ever suspected that there lay deep within him, something which they had awakened.
'Has he done a reasonable job of it?' asked Valerie.
Cheryl walked about the room, running her finger over desk and tabletop, scrutinising the carpeted floor and making a detour into the bathroom. She emerged and looked him up and down. Turning to Valerie, she remarked, it's passable.'
it can't have been too easy to reach the electrical sockets,' said Valerie.
'A bit easier than it would be now,' replied Cheryl.
The remark was an understatement, for the first thing they had done upon entering the room was to seize and twist his lower arms across his back, and there to secure them with the remaining two straps and locks which hung from the belt at the rear of his waist.
'As he gets used to doing it,' continued Cheryl, 'we can add wrist and ankle cuffs. It will be more of a challenge for him.'
'And perhaps we could try a few masks,' added Valerie.
'Yes,' agreed Cheryl, 'that sounds like fun. Shall we close the blinds?'
With the room once more in semi-darkness and their prisoner ordered to stand by the desk, Valerie left and Cheryl vanished into the bathroom. He listened to the splashing of the shower and wished that he too could enjoy the luxury, for his body was hot and damp with perspiration where the latex enclosed it. When Cheryl reappeared the catsuit was gone and had been replaced by a bathrobe.
He watched her cross the room in silence and, once at the group of chairs, slip off the bathrobe and sit down with her back to him, out of sight. Had he not observed her cross the room, he would have been quite unaware of her presence. He lapsed into a mood of introspection. There was little alternative.
After what seemed like an eternity, her voice broke the silence. 'Come here, please!'
He caught his breath and started towards the chair. She was almost naked and would have been entirely so but for the small black suspender belt, fine blue-grey stockings and black high-heeled shoes. She sat with her legs crossed and regarded him with her wide blue eyes as he stood before her. 'You've been less of a problem that I expected,' she breathed. 'You have taken to it rather well, I think.' She uncrossed her legs and leant towards him. 'And you see, our little ritual is going to be quite private, just as I said.'
'And what about all this?' he asked, turning half towards her and tugging against the restraints.
'What about it?' she answered.
'Well, you'll have to undo me if we're ...'
'Oh, have to? No! No, I don't have to do anything,' she said rising to her feet. 'I thought you understood. You are here to serve, not to make demands. Now, my love, let's see how well you continue your duties.' She placed a hand on his shoulder and ordered, 'Down!'
For a moment, he hesitated, and his objections remained unvoiced. He lowered himself slowly, his face passing close to her breasts with their prominent pink nipples. He felt the heat of her body upon his face and the currents passing through his loins. On his knees, he faced her stomach and the soft, neat down of the fair hair above her sex. She lowered herself back into the sighing leather of the chair and lifted a foot to his face, saying, 'Begin here. And take your time!'
He kissed the shoe several times, and her ankle, moving forward little by little, turning his attentions from one leg to the other as she spread herself and allowed him to approach the sanctum of her own pleasures. Barely had he reached her knee when he saw the black whip, clutched in her hand at the side of the chair. To hurry, he knew, would have meant the taste of its cruel sting. He brushed against the top of her cool, smooth stocking when she let the whip down, reached forward and placed her hands upon his head. 'There, my sweet,' she breathed, if you do well, you will find how many different ways you can become the person you are now, and how many ways you can serve myself and others.'
She drew him closer to the cockpit of her lusts, and there to the place where his tongue could enact its drama of sensuality; swaggering and gesturing, darting and teasing, inducing then revelling in the climax that its performance must bring. But he knew he must not show haste here either, but play her slowly, for she wished to savour the journey as much as the destination. And the tongue found her secret rhythm, felt her stiffen and tremble to its salacious music, felt her body rise on a tide of silent lust. She heaved and cried out, the nails of her fingers pushing into his neck.
After the act was finished, she pulled on the bathrobe and took him to the door. She had not forbidden him to speak but did not speak herself. And so he remained silent. She glanced along the corridor before they left and walked to the door opposite. He had little option but to follow.
He had walked almost willingly into her trap. And now he was ensnared, not just physically but emotionally. She might remove the restraints from him and allow him to dress in the clothes of his own gender, but they both knew that his position and his future at the house depended on his obedience to her and the fulfilling of her needs. Pauline had never made such -demands. Would he have been as compliant if she had?
Pauline had behaved as a tyrant. Cheryl was a goddess who demanded from her chief acolyte the abrogation of his own gender in the service of her carnality.
They crossed the deep maroon carpet and skirted the chrome and black leather furniture, all bathed in warm, pink light. She reached the heavy black curtain hanging behind the big arch and pulled it aside for him to enter. He glanced only briefly at the array of sinister furniture and equipment, for she led him to the far side of the room where stood, a metre away from the wall, the big wooden structure in the form of a letter X.
fcWe both know you have a choice,' she said quietly, withdrawing a small key from the pocket of her bathrobe. kBut 1 think you will make the correct one. It will only be for a short time and I somehow doubt that you will be disappointed.'
The straps were released and soon he felt the tightly laced dres
s begin to loosen. Cheryl pulled away the wig, stood back and said, Take everything off except the briefs."
He struggled out of the dress, finding it difficult to pull away wet from his skin, then the stockings and shoes. She took them away in turn and placed them upon a nearby bench. When she took his wrist, he resisted momentarily and said, The shower: I mean, I'm all damp.'
4After!' she answered decisively.
He looked at her questioningly. Surely he had done what she had intended him to do. What more did she want? She looked closely into his eyes and whispered, it's for your own good. Don't disappoint me now.'
She worked quickly and efficiently, to the swish of leather through metal buckles until he was spread out and mounted on the cross with two straps about each limb. Standing before him, she placed a hand gently on his cheek and said, 'Rewards and punishments; give and take; that is what we are going to be about.'
She moved her lips closer to his and the furnace of her breath burned his soul. 'When you begin to love me, you will want to do everything I ask; everything to please me. You will want me to do more; more to control and transform you as you were today. Sometimes I'll be kind. Other times strict. I can be very strict. But your devotion will overcome it all, until you accept everything I have to give you.'
Her lips touched his, and his body tensed as the current flowed between them. Had he been able, he would have paid carnal homage to her again, on whatever terms she demanded. She smiled and ran a finger down his chest as far as his lower abdomen, causing him to close his eyes and draw in his breath sharply. When he opened his eyes, he caught a fleeting glimpse of her passing through the curtain and she was gone.
How long he remained in the silence he could not say, for his mind could not divest itself of her image and her voice, and the words she had spoken to him. His eyes must have been closed for a time because he had no recollection of anyone entering the chamber until a voice said, 'Hi Mike!'
She stood before him smiling, in her white T-shirt and denim mini-skirt with its designer frayed hem.
'Jackie!' he exclaimed, twisting against the straps. fcWhy are you what do you think you're ...?'
She folded her arms and tilted her head to one side. Looking him up and down, her eyes came to rest upon the strip of elasticated nylon which held his erection in limbo. 'You have got yourself into a spot, haven't you? It looks to me as though you've been a naughty boy. You certainly pong of rubber and no mistake. I wonder if you're not as bad as me! Maybe we'll end up in the playpen together. I think I'd like that, you know. Anyway, Cheryl said to come and help you out of the mess you're in. That's why I'm here.'
'Well, come on then, undo me!'
'Oh I will,' she replied, walking up to him and putting her arms about his waist, 'in a little while.' She ran her hands to the front, reached under the elastic and squeezed the base of his penis with her thumbs.
'Oh God!' he groaned as her fingers found the small clips at the sides of the waistband.
The little garment jerked up as she released it. Reaching down, she took it from where it swung, on the end of his erection, and cast it aside. A moment later she was on her knees before him and a cool hand slipped under his testicles. Her other hand at once took the inflamed shaft and held it whilst her lips closed over the distended head. In this position, her hand began its devilish act, causing the effervescence to rise up quickly within his loins, whilst she allowed him deeper into her.
During his time with Cheryl, the sexual tensions had built up within him like raging torrents held in check behind a dam. Now that dam was about to burst forth. The crisis was approaching rapidly, surging out of control, making his whole frame sing like a tuning fork. He began to gasp, 'Hey! I'm going to - I'm going to !'
But she paid no heed other than to remove her hand so that he might enter her deeper still as his body quivered and shook in mindless ecstasy before her.
She withdrew him slowly. Twirling her tongue about the head, she made sure that nothing was lost. He kept his eyes closed, and relaxed against the restraints. Jackie got to her feet and moved behind the wooden cross. Soon he was released. All she said before leaving was, 'Your things are in the bathroom. Cheryl said to make sure you leave everything ultra-tidy!'
He stood for a minute or so, quite bemused.
'Look, he's back again,' said Annette.
Angela looked over her shoulder at the figure seated in front of the bar.
'God, what's he got there? It must be a litre of beer! I haven't seen him doing enough hard work today to get that thirsty.'
'And he's just staring into space, totally oblivious,' put in Annette. 'I wonder if he's still thinking of Carlene.'
'He's definitely got something on his mind,' said Angela, it could be he's been smitten.'
'What here? He wouldn't be! I mean who?'
'I don't know. We could ask.'
'I'll get his attention,' announced Annette, picking up a pea from her plate and positioning it on the end of her knife. She pulled back the blade and took careful aim.
Sybaris
Sonia had taken her to Beziers on that morning, the morning when she was to take the high-speed train to Paris. And even though she was to be away for only a few days, Karen had felt a little sad as they approached the junction of the main road and the house disappeared behind the trees.
At the railway station, they had kissed with overt passion, not caring who went by. Their private intimacies had reached an intensity which glowed like a furnace, giving forth its heat even in a place where all might see the burning. And burning deep in her loins Karen had been, when she boarded the train. Even the excitement of her trip to Paris had been dulled at the sight of Sonia watching her from the platform as the train slid with remorseless acceleration, ever onward, leaving one abandoned, the other in flight. If Sonia had said to her, 'Don't go now. Not now. Perhaps another time," she would have willingly relinquished the journey. But Sonia had not asked her and that too had made her sad.
She knew she was to be met at the Gave de Lyon. She thought that it would be Armand, for Armand had been there to greet her on the first occasion. She put down her fawn case and gazed about the crowded, bustling concourse, expecting to see his round, smiling face and alert brown eyes. But the voice which called her name was not that of Armand, but of another whose presence was equally welcome. Karen turned to see laughing, dark eyes, and smiling sensual lips. Josephine, in a long-sleeved satin blouse with a swirling pattern of jade, black lycra leggings and red spike-heeled shoes, looked as striking as Karen remembered from the time they last met.
"Karen! Karen! Ma cherie/' she cried, throwing her arms around Karen's neck with open enthusiasm, and planting kisses about her cheeks as though they had been parted by years rather than months, it is wonderful that you are here! I am so happy to see you again!'
When Josephine hesitated to push back the long, raven hair from her cheeks, Karen replied, 'Oh, Josephine, it's lovely to see you again as well. Have you brought Armand? Is he here?'
"No, no!' she answered, wide-eyed. 'He is at his office in St. Germain-des-Pres. He helps to plan many of the fashion photographs you will do. He will be with us soon after six o'clock.'
She took hold of Karen's case and said, 'We will take a taxi now, and soon you can freshen up at our little shop.'
'Josephine,' she said as they set off towards the exit, 'give me the case, please. I don't want you carrying things for me.'
Karen thought it incongruous that someone not quite her own height should be carrying her luggage.
'Oh, no! I will keep it!' replied Josephine, pulling the small case away. 'You are our guest once more and everything we shall do for you!'
Everything, thought Karen as they stepped outside, everything. Indeed, what they, Josephine and Armand, had done for her and with her, ought, she felt, to have made her blush. But it did not. Not now. With Josephine and Armand, the erotic was fun, a mischievous adventure, an erotic play acted out between friends. With Sonia, it was m
uch more intense, and more discreet. As they got into the taxi, and Josephine smiled at her, Karen wondered if she was a relation of Sonia's for there was a resemblance. Josephine might have been a younger sister.
Breaking into her thoughts, Josephine said, 'You have been at the house for well over a year. Do you think you will stay with Sonia?'
'Stay?' asked Karen. The question came almost as a surprise. i have no plans to leave. I'll stay as long as Sonia wants me to do my job there. Why do you ask?'
'Well,' replied Josephine, i have known Sonia for many years. She has not had many very close friends in that time because of her business. I know she would be very unhappy if you leave the house. I can tell these things, you see.'
is that what she said to you?' asked Karen, as the taxi pulled into the busy traffic, thinking how very little Josephine could really know.
'Oh, no, no. She does not have a busy mouth like me. I just know, that is all. When you have known someone for a long time, you can sense these things.'
Their cab turned off the Avenue Daumesnil and into the Avenue Ledru Rollin. Crossing the Rue du Faubourg, Josephine said with a hint of excitement, Two more turns and we shall be there!'
Soon they turned into the little street with its mix of bars, restaurants, chic boutiques and tiny galleries. At the end of the street, Karen saw it. The shop, with its small double front. It was at once familiar and she read out loud the name, painted in ornate gold letters above the door:
SYBARIS.
Although it was not the busy, bustling street she knew it would become later, there was still much going on and, as they emerged from the cab, Karen was at once aware of the multitude of enticing odours which drifted by from the eating houses. One side of the street was still flooded with the warm glow of the evening sun, for it was now a quarter past five.
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