by Rachel Green
“Were you intimately acquainted?”
He laughed politely, as if it were a practiced response. “Not at all. No relationships are allowed between the staff.”
“Is that an official rule?”
“Yes it is.” The answer was supplied by an Asian woman, impeccably dressed in a close-fitted business suit, who appeared at the doorway. Her diminutive frame belied the hardness of her tone as she studied Meinwen. Her gaze flickered to the waiter and she came fully into the room. “Michael? You may go.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He gave her a half bow and left.
“His deference to you belies the statement.” Meinwen dropped the magazine back into the rack. “He certainly seems to have a relationship with you.”
“Purely a professional one. He’s been sent here for training. I’m his mistress for the next three months while he, if you’ll pardon the expression, learns the ropes.” The woman sat down, hardly making a dent in the overstuffed chair. “I was told you requested me?”
“Lady Shadow, I presume.” Meinwen held out her hand. “Meinwen Jones. This is Dafydd. He needs training, too.”
“Hey!”
“He’s very new to all this. I won’t even let him be my slave until he knows what it actually means.”
“And you want us to train him? We run as a genuine hotel here, you know. It’s not all mistresses and dungeons. Most of out guests have no clue what goes on behind the closed doors.”
“Discretion is always preferred.” Meinwen smiled. “Would it be possible to have a tour before we decide?”
“I suppose so.” Lady Shadow stood, revealing a flash of electric blue suit lining. Meinwen followed suit, nudging Dafydd with her foot.
“I haven’t finished my coffee.”
“Never mind the coffee. The lady is waiting.”
“She can wait another minute, surely? Why don’t you talk about knitting or something? Or how much you hate men.”
Lady Shadow cupped his chin in her hands, forcing his head up to look her in the eyes. “Whatever gave you the impression I hated men? Quite the opposite, I assure you. Where would we be without the male of the species?”
“Unable to reach tall shelves or move heavy furniture.” Meinwen smiled. “An old joke.”
“And one probably amusing amongst the vagetarian sect.” Lady Shadow’s face betrayed no hint of humor.” Come. I have a meeting scheduled shortly.” She strode to the door without looking back, seemingly under the assumption that Meinwen and Dafydd would follow.
“Come on.” Meinwen caught his arm and pulled him upright. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“I don’t know what you’re fussing about.” Dafydd rose to his feet, the cup still clutched in his meaty palm. He took a swig and settled it back into the saucer. “Why are you going along with all this female domination rubbish when we all know what you really want is a good shag?”
“That’s enough. If you can’t be polite at least be respectful.” Meinwen hurried through the door to find Lady Shadow waiting for them at the reception desk. She wished she hadn’t brought him along. It was true what they said about familiarity breeding contempt. If Dafydd had so little regard for her lifestyle choices why did she bother trying to include him. He might as well push off back to ’Dovey.
“I think you’ll find that his behavior is geared to provoke a reaction, Ms. Jones. Like a child he is desperate for attention but by acknowledging his brattishness you’re reinforcing the bad behavior.”
“I see. What would you recommend?”
“What would you do with a disobedient dog?”
“Punish it?”
“Not at all. Punishment is merely another form of attention, after all.” Lady Shadow smiled. “On the contrary, you should ignore him. Put him away if you must. Reward him with attention only when he is obedient.”
“How would I do that?”
“Does he live with you?”
“No. We’ve known each other for years but never been intimate until recently.”
“Then he has contempt for you built over years of friendship.” She shook her head. “If you want my advice you’d keep this one as a friend and get another one for a slave.” She opened a door marked Staff Only and strode through.
Meinwen double-stepped for a moment. Lady Shadow was right, of course, her words an echo of what Meinwen knew to be true. “I see your point, but I like him too much to just be friends.”
“Then you need to prepare yourself for some harsh training. You’re new to this yourself, aren’t you?”
“From this side of the rope, yes.” Meinwen could feel the blush. “Is it so obvious?”
“To another dominant, yes. You’re trying to coax him to behave where there should be expectation. It’s sweet, I suppose, but you’re going to have to learn almost as much as him. To whom were you submissive?”
“Robert Markhew, originally, then to his son Richard, though we never formalized a relationship. I was unwilling to commit to someone younger than myself.”
“I come across that a lot. It becomes less important with experience, I assure you. As long as mutual needs are met, any relationship can be satisfactory.” She led them down a flight of stairs into what must have been the cellars, though they’d been extensively modernized. “The trick is defining those mutual needs in the first place.”
“Sex and adoration?”
“Every woman wants that.” They passed through a laundry area where a girl was folding sheets. Lady Shadow smiled at her, trailing a hand across her arm. “Most women, I should say. You, however, have a man more used to you adoring him, a difficult habit to break out of, for both of you.”
They approached a door with a smoked, safety-glass pane. The diffused light threw Lady Shadow into soft focus. Meinwen raised an eyebrow. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, you mean?”
“Quite.” Lady Shadow paused at the door to face them. “And with that old adage to refute, let me show you the kennels.”
“Kennels?” Meinwen frowned. “I thought the hotel didn’t allow pets?”
“We don’t.” Lady Shadow smiled. “Not the sort you buy in shelters, anyway. These kennels are for pet play. People who want to be dogs. Or pretend to be dogs. Or whose masters wish them to be dogs.” She led the way across the yard. Although open to the air, it was screened from prying eyes by the clever use of trellis and pergola roofing. The five rooms on the other side were of wooden construction in the log cabin style, each with a double stable door and small window. “Or ponies. Even cats, though they tend to be indoor pets.”
“And they sleep out here?” Meinwen peered through one of the windows. It looked like the inside of a stable in there. Warm and dry but with no amenities. She wondered what it would be like to be a resident then shuddered. She’d become rather used to her personal freedom over the years.
“If their masters decree it.” She looked pointedly at Dafydd. “Or if they require extensive training.”
“I see.” Meinwen affected an air of innocence. “And what does training entail? Some sort of bondage?”
“Yes, dependent upon the species, naturally. For a dog we generally use a leather harness that restricts movement to four limbs, knee pads and paw mittens, a half or full mask for ears and snout and of course the tail.”
“The tail?” Dafydd frowned. “Don’t tell me. That goes into the–”
“Butt plug. Indeed.” Lady Shadow smiled. “I think you’d enjoy the experience. Most find the freedom from worldly worries to be quite liberating.”
Meinwen looked into the next room. “What about the cats and ponies?”
“Cats are generally left to the master’s pleasure. We don’t train people by giving them cat personas. Have you ever tried training a cat?”
Meinwen laughed. “Good point. And ponies? I’ve seen something of them before but Dafydd hasn’t.”
Lady Shadow beamed. “Ponies really are my favorite. They look so wonderful and proud in their livery. We don’t have a
ny in at the moment, unfortunately, else I’d show one to you. We generally put them into a body harness. Either a full one for draft horses or a partial one for the show ponies, then arm binders so they lose the use of their hands.”
“That must make them dependent upon their handler.”
“Of course. It makes them very loyal very quickly.” She nodded toward Dafydd. “May I?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Dafydd frowned at Meinwen. “I thought this was all supposed to be consensual?”
“It is.” Meinwen placed a finger over his lips. “Do it for me. I’d really like to see how you look as a pony.”
“I’m not sure I want to–”
“Shh.” Meinwen cupped his head in her hands to look him in the eyes. “Ponies don’t speak, remember?”
He let out a long sigh and nodded.
“Super!” Lady Shadow put his hands behind his back. “Charlotte?”
“Yes, Mistress?” A woman stepped out of the room next to the laundry. She was dressed in a black jacket and a skirt in black and purple that came over the knees at the front and dropped to her ankles behind. Her stockinged legs ended in dainty leather boots and her hair was caught up in a ponytail.
“I have a pony here that needs grooming. Would you see to it?”
“Right away.” She went back inside and came back out with a purple riding crop. She followed Lady Shadow’s pointed gaze toward Meinwen. “What’s his name?”
“Dafydd.”
“No.” Charlotte’s laugh was like water draining onto corrugated iron. Meinwen would swear later she had too many teeth for one mouth. “I meant his pony name.”
“Oh, I see.” Meinwen looked to Lady Shadow. “Er...”
“You must choose a name that reflects his spirit.” She passed Dafydd into Charlotte’s care. “Perhaps something from his homeland?”
“Daffodil?” Meinwen shrugged. “He’s from Aberdovey.”
“I see.” She linked arms with Meinwen. “Something about his nature then. What does he do for a living?”
“He sells ice cream, hot dogs and burgers from a van. I don’t see how that helps.”
“Sausages and cream? You could call him sausage for short.”
Dafydd grinned. “I don’t have a short sausage.”
“We’ll soon see.” Charlotte patted his bottom. “Come on. Gee up.” She half walked half ran him to the room at the end of the row of stables, then stopped him and turned to look back. “What sort of pony?”
“Workhorse, I think.” Lady Shadow nodded once then turned back to Meinwen. “It will take some time to transform him into something worthy of glory. Shall we continue our tour?”
“Lead on, by all means.” Meinwen smiled at the shorter woman. “What did she mean ‘what sort of pony’?”
“As I said before there are work ponies that we use for pulling sulkies and traps and show ponies we use when we want something pretty.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Those tend to be the ladies.”
“I see. That makes sense, I suppose.”
“There is also a third type, those we put a saddle on for riding.”
“On all fours?”
“Not really, no. It is possible in some circumstances but you risk serious back injury if the rider is too heavy. No, our saddles are designed for shoulder mounting with a series of bracing rods that transfer the rider’s weight to the mount’s hips. It’s quite exhilarating if you get a decent mount. Not suitable for yours, though, unless he takes to the life of a pony in a big way and develops the right muscles for it.” She looked pointedly at Meinwen. “It could take some time.”
“Which is a lovely way of saying I’m a large lady, I presume?” Meinwen smiled. “I have no desire to ride Dafydd. Not in the way you mean, at least. You mentioned a sulkie. What’s that?”
“Only the best fun in the world.” Lady Shadow gripped her arm. “It’s a one-person lightweight trap designed to be pulled by a human pony. It’s terrific to race them. I once drove one though a candlelit wood on Halloween. That was over in Somerset, mind, with a friend who owned some woodland there. There were a whole group of us. We had races, too.” She shook her head, smiling at the memory. “Those were the days.”
“Do you not do that any more?”
“No. The friends moved away. Scotland, I think. Or Wales. Somewhere they could get a smallholding for less than they sold their townhouse for. Now, where were we?”
“You were giving me the tour.”
“Yes. Right then. Let me show you the dungeon.”
She pushed open a door no different to any other of the hotel’s fire doors and stepped into pitch darkness. Meinwen paused at the doorway and waited while Lady Shadow opened an access panel and began to flick switches. First a series of ultraviolet lights, then several banks in recessed mood lighting followed by inset panels of bright white lights. “There are some individual spots and mood lights, too, but it’s easiest to see by the big ones.”
She led the way inside. “The room is completely soundproofed from the rest of the hotel. There are banks of interchangeable equipment, too, so if there’s something you particularly want you can slot it into place or one of the staff will do it for you.”
Meinwen walked further in. As well as the usual St. Andrew’s Cross there was a life-sized crucifix, inclined bench, rope web, Catherine wheel and spanking stool. She could feel her knickers getting damp just looking at it all. “Marvelous, Lady Shadow.” She pointed to a pair of buttons on the far wall. “What are those for?”
“The winch, but call me Rebecca, please. No need to stand on ceremony when we’re alone.” She strode over to the buttons and pressed one. The whine of a motor commenced an iron bar lowered from the ceiling. “You could hang a submissive directly from this or perform a rope suspension. There’s a sling that attaches to the winch if that’s more your style.”
“I don’t know mush about suspension.” Meinwen walked toward the back of the room where a passage led to another room. “What’s this way?”
“Have a look.” Rebecca followed, her heels clicking on the polished floor. “There’s a cell, a sterile room and a wet room.”
“What are those for? The two rooms, I mean. I can guess what the cell’s for.”
“The sterile room is for anything involving blood. Tattoos, piercings, play piercings. It’s set out like a doctor’s office so you can play doctors and nurses or live autopsy games.” She held up a hand to stifle Meinwen’s cry of indignation. “Don’t sound so shocked. You know how fetishes can seem insurmountable sometimes. The only rule we have is everything must be above board, consensual and legal. I won’t risk having the hotel closed down because someone pushed the boundaries too far.”
“Very wise.” Meinwen walked into a room tiled white from floor to ceiling, including the floor and ceiling. Showerheads lined the walls. “I can guess what this one is for.”
“Yes. Body fluids. If it’s messy, do it in here. She crossed to the side nearest the door and opened a cupboard. “You can even take a shower.”
“Only if I’m allowed to drop the soap.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“I take it you frown on prostitution.”
“Of course. That could get us closed down quicker than a rat with salmonella. Why do you ask? “
“I wondered how you made money out of all this. You seem to me to be a shrewd businesswoman.”
“There are services to be purchased, just not sex. A guest can have an hour or two with a dominatrix and charge it to his room. It comes up as ‘sundry expenses’ on the bill. Easier to explain away to the wife or husband.”
“What about guests who are dominant? Can you provide submissives for them to play with?”
“In certain circumstances, yes, but the sessions are monitored. We can’t afford to find a would-be dominant is really a homicidal sadist who’s seen too many re-runs of Hostel, can we?”
Meinwen laughed. “I
suppose not. What about gay men? Are they catered for?”
“If they agree to the no-sex rule, yes. I have male dominants and male submissives on hand, or at least available at short notice.”
“What about John Fenstone? Was he one of your professionals?”
“Quite often, actually. He was very popular among both genders. Sometimes the women couldn’t even tell he was gay, he was that good.”
“I can imagine!” Meinwen thought about Jimmy’s sexual skills. If John was half as good, he’d have been popular. “His brother is just the same.”
“His brother? I didn’t know he had a brother.” Rebecca shook her head. “It just shows, doesn’t it, how little we know people.”
“John didn’t talk about his family?”
“Not once. I take it you knew them?”
“Only James. I never knew John.”
“That surprises me if you know Richard Godwin. They were very close. I know John spent as much time at The Larches as he did here, though I think it was personal there.”
“Yes, I only discovered the relationship when I found Richard’s sigil on a ring belonging to John. Jimmy didn’t even know he was gay.”
“You never notice what’s right under your nose, do you?” Rebecca pursed her lips and Meinwen wondered who she was thinking about. “Have you seen enough? The rooms on the first floor are all purely vanilla but those on the second floor are kink aware. Apart from the guest rooms, which have anchor points in the walls and ceilings, we have a schoolroom, a nursery and a war room. There’s also a gymnasium, sauna and beauty salon, but those are available to the vanilla guests as well.”
“You seem to have the perfect setup.” Meinwen trailed a hand across the surface on a leather-covered spanking bench. The dull sheen of the covering stirred a desire of being strapped to it and caned. She imagined Jimmy’s breath on her naked arse. She swallowed, recovering enough to return to the purpose of her visit. “So who do you think murdered John?”
“Murdered him?” Rebecca sank backward, leaning against the St. Andrew’s Cross. She did it so beautifully Meinwen wondered if it had been rehearsed. “I thought he hung himself?”
“That’s what people were supposed to think. The police have reopened the investigation. Any guesses who might have wanted him dead?”