Inner Circle

by Charles Arnold

  “You’re hoping Frederick will give you permission to fuck his big black servant? Aren’t you getting enough sex at home?” She heard Gruber’s dry chuckle, “No, of course you aren’t. Your training has conditioned you to want it all the time. Yes?”

  “I…I…don’t know,” Kathy stammered. “I could be sexually active if I wished, but it wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be…”

  “I can’t make decisions for Frederick. However, I suspect he might allow you to have the big black man provided you show him proper respect and perhaps perform for our amusement. You are willing to perform for our amusement, are you not, Mrs. Ryan?”

  Kathy closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to refuse but fearful of displeasing him yet not knowing why. She was safe in her own house. No longer subject to his will. She was surprised to hear herself saying, “Yes, that will be…that will be fine.”

  “The last time you paid us a visit you were not harmed or required to do anything against your will, is that not true?”

  She tried to recall her weekend at Gruber’s estate but the memory was hazy. It drifted in and out of her consciousness. “No, I wasn’t harmed. I can’t quite remember but I don’t think I was forced to do anything I didn’t agree to.”

  Gruber’s voice was deep, resonant, evenly modulated, almost hypnotic, “So, you see my dear, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It will simply be a pleasant visit with old friends, yes?” It was a question

  Kathy nodded to herself, “Yes, doctor, a pleasant visit with old friends.

  “Good, it’s settled then. Is it possible for you to make arrangements to arrive next Saturday around three o’clock? You may wish to stay over. On Sundays we usually have an afternoon entertainment for a select gathering of friends. Oh!” he said in mock surprise. “I forgot, you have attended one of them.” She didn’t respond. “Very well, then,” he continued, “are the day and time suitable?”

  “Yes. I could take a flight to La Guardia and rent a car and drive up.”

  “We’ll expect you on Saturday at three.” She was about to hang up when Gruber spoke again. “Mrs. Ryan, on your last evening with Abul, did he present you with a gift?”

  “A gift? No, I don’t recall a gift.”

  “I believe your late husband had left you a gold necklace and….”

  Kathy felt her heart racing. “Yes, he did.” She was acutely aware of the stickiness between her legs. “That’s right, my husband left me a necklace. Abul made me take it off.”

  “And Abul replaced it with?”

  Kathy realized Gruber had seen the tapes. “A dog collar,” she said.

  “Negra’s collar?”

  “Yes, Negra’s collar.”

  “I dare say you’ve kept it, the collar I mean.”

  “I…I…don’t know.”

  “You do know, Mrs. Ryan.”

  “It’s…it’s in a drawer somewhere.”

  “When you arrive on Saturday, Master Frederick and I would like you to be naked under your dress. No stockings, very high heels.”

  “But…but…I…I’m not…I don’t…” Gruber waited.

  “Yes,” she said. “I…I’ll dress as you wish.”

  “And I know Frederick will want you to wear the collar. Do you have any objections to that?”

  She hesitated. “No doctor,” she tried to keep the trembling out of her voice, “No, I haven’t any objections.”

  “Good. Frederick will be pleased to see you and so, I’m sure, will Jamie.” For a second time, she was about to hang up when he spoke, “One thing more, Mrs. Ryan.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “I understand your parents were killed in an auto crash when you were quite young?”

  “That’s true. It seems Mr. Satomi has sent my biography to everyone.”

  “Only to those of us who were directly involved in your…for want of a better word, in your education.” There was a pause. “Tell me, have you put away some small thing of your mother’s….a treasured keepsake, something to remember her by.”

  It was a strange question. Kathy’s first impulse was to lie and say no. Instead, she answered truthfully, “There’s some of her jewelry. We were rather poor. It’s of no value.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Shortly before the accident, my father had given her a small beautifully embroidered scarf made of Irish linen. My mother said it was too lovely to wear. I’ve kept it. I look at it often.”

  “I see. Tell me this, Mrs. Ryan. Is your cunt wet now? I’ll wait while you find out.”

  His question frightened her. It had been months since anyone had spoken to her in that way. She hesitated. This would be the time for her to quietly hang up the receiver and get on with a normal life…a life in which no one would dare ask such a question. Instead, she reached under her skirt knowing that she was wet. “Yes,” she said, “yes, I…I’m very wet.”

  “I thought you might be. Before your visit to us you should know that the token you so generously presented to Negra during your first visit has been chewed to shreds. There’s really nothing left of it.” He paused. “It’s quite possible my nephew’s dog has forgotten you.”

  “Please, Doctor,” Kathy interrupted, “not my mother’s scarf. I couldn’t. I honestly couldn’t. It’s all that I have to…to…”

  Gruber cut her off. His friendly tone had changed. “As soon as we’re finished speaking, I want you to get the scarf. Then you’re to wipe your dripping cunt with it. After that, you’re to stuff it up inside your vagina. Frederick and I want your mother’s scarf to be soaked with your cunt juice. Do you understand, Mrs. Ryan?”

  “But I can’t, I can’t possibly…” She heard the chord again. It seemed to be coming from the phone and was also playing in her head.

  “The scarf soaked with your cunt juice,” Gruber repeated.

  Kathy squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, “Yes, Doctor Gruber,” she said, “I understand.”

  “Wrap it in plastic and put it in an envelope addressed to me. Send it overnight mail.” He paused, waiting. Kathy’s head cleared for a moment. She considered slamming down the phone. Hang up, she thought. Call the pool service. Get the pedicure. Keep your luncheon date. Gruber spoke again in the same even self-assured tone, “You don’t want the dog to forget you, do you, Mrs. Ryan? Think before you answer. Remember your dreams. Ask yourself why you called me on this bright May morning.”

  It was several moments before she answered. She had trouble forming the words, “No,” she said almost to herself, “no, I…I…don’t want him to forget me.”

  “Is it correct to say you would like Negra to anticipate your coming and recognize you when you arrive?”

  “No!” Kathy said quickly, “no, that’s crazy. I…I’m sorry I phoned. It was about Jamie…not…not…”

  Gruber spoke sternly, “You should know better than to lie to me, Mrs. Ryan. I want you to tell the truth.” Kathy shook her head.

  After several moments she answered automatically, “I’m not lying. I don’t care. I don’t care if the dog remembers me or not.”

  “I don’t believe you, Mrs. Ryan. But tell me, what scent does the dog know you by?”

  “Doctor Gruber, I didn’t call to talk about the dog.” She waited. Gruber said nothing. Once more she thought about hanging up. Instead she said, “By my scent.”

  “Be exact, Mrs. Ryan. Say the words.”

  “He knows the scent of…of my cunt.”

  “And what specific scent will cause him to anticipate your visit?”

  “Doctor Gruber, if I decide to come for a short visit it has nothing do with the dog.”

  “What scent?” Gruber asked dryly.

  “The scent of my cunt.”

  “Yes, that’s quite right. And, Mrs. Ryan, when you descend the stone steps to his quarters and stand before his cage, and lift the hem of your dress, how will he know it is you who have come to visit him?”

  “But I won’t…I can’t. I’m not going to.” She took a deep breath
. There was silence on the other end of the line. “By the scent of my cunt,” she said.

  “And the scent will be strong, and your cunt will be wet?”

  “I…I…don’t know.”

  “I think you do know. Send the scarf. Your dear Mother’s scarf. Nothing else will do.”

  “Yes, Doctor……my mother’s scarf.” She heard the click and the line went dead.

  Chapter Seven

  As soon as Kathy placed the receiver back in its cradle, she hurried to find the scarf. Hating herself, she did what the Doctor had demanded. Twenty minutes later she handed the envelope containing her mother’s scarf to the postal clerk.

  The clerk weighed the small package. “Overnight mail?”

  “Yes, please, overnight.”

  As Kathy stepped back out into the bright afternoon sunlight, she had to rest against the side of her BMW. She felt a sick churning in her stomach. Her legs shook. Tears formed in her eyes. “My God,” she whispered to herself, “what am I doing?”

  For the rest of the day, she made a conscious effort to push the morning’s events out of her mind. But as evening approached she had to face the fact that there were things to be done. It seemed as if after hearing Doctor Gruber’s voice she’d lost her will, as if some inner force compelled her to do that obscene thing with the scarf and send it. Now, she had to make the necessary arrangements. It was clear to her that ever since the terrible experience at his estate, she had not been herself. The recurring dreams, the discordant musical notes, the sudden daytime visions of Frederick, the constant arousal, the desperate need for….for…something she was afraid to name.

  She ordered her plane tickets through the internet. When asked if she wanted a one way or round trip ticket, Kathy didn’t hesitate. She selected “round trip”. She was to leave Pittsburgh on Saturday, May 9th and return on Monday, May 11th. Dates, times, flight numbers, seat assignments were quickly confirmed. Her Visa card number was accepted. There was only one more box to check. It appeared at the lower right of her screen. She stared at it for several minutes. Then, her hand shaking, she slowly moved the curser and clicked the rectangle labeled “SUBMIT”.

  The weather had turned very warm for May. Kathy decided on comfortable clothes instead of the dress Gruber had told her to wear. She no longer needed to take orders from anyone, especially the cadaverous Doctor Gruber. She chose a pale yellow linen jacket and pants to match. For the trip, she slid her freshly pedicured toes into flat leather sandals. In her suitcase she’d packed strappy slingbacks and thong sandals, both pair with four and a half inch heels. With them she carefully folded a black stretch lace halter gown, low-scooped front, open back, side slit. This she would wear as a guest this time at one of the “entertainments”. In addition to the evening gown, she selected a very short body hugging red cotton spandex dress. She hesitated before placing it in the suitcase. She even took it back to the closet and was about to hang it up and select something more conservative. Then she heard in her head the jangling atonal notes that had been haunting her since the night she left Gruber’s estate months ago. She put the spandex dress on top of the black gown, and stood looking down at it for several moments. Since she planned to sleep over, she included a lavender chemise. In a separate case were her cosmetics, body oil, and perfume. There was no bra in her suitcase, nor were there stockings or panties.

  The trip to the airport, the flight to New York, renting the car, and the drive to Gruber’s mansion seemed to have been done automatically. Gruber’s estate overlooked the Hudson River west of Rhinebeck. When she pulled into the driveway, she felt as if someone else had delivered her there. She sat for a moment looking at the huge stone chateau with the pillared portico. There’s time, she thought, to turn around. She could flee back to the safety of her home, the comfort of the country club, her classes at the university. She could return to a predictable life among good friends who were protective and sane.

  Instead, she parked the rented car next to the portico. In the distance, the late afternoon sun glinted off the river. Its light filtered softly through the new green-gold leaves of the massive oaks that lined the drive. She’d expected someone, perhaps Jamie, to come out of the house to help with her bag. No one appeared. She unloaded her suitcase and carried it up the wide stone steps. After pressing the bell several times, the heavy door swung open.

  Her old nemesis, Mrs. Foster, looked at her disapprovingly. She resembled, Kathy thought, the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. Without saying a word, Mrs. Foster motioned for Kathy to follow her. They ascended the sweeping circular stairway and proceeded down a long dimly lit hall. At its end, Mrs. Foster paused before another heavy wooden door. She fitted a big iron key in the lock. Kathy followed her into a large, well appointed bedroom. She noticed immediately that the tall windows were barred. The room was furnished with a king sized bed, several armchairs, a long leather-covered bench, and a mirrored dressing table. In the center of the outside wall was a fireplace set with logs. Through an archway she saw a bath with a big sunken tub. The floor and walls of the bathroom were black marble. Fastened at intervals along the walls of both rooms were heavy iron rings.

  “This will be your room during your stay with us,” Mrs. Foster said matter-of-factly. She pointed to a speaker in the ceiling. “If either of the Masters or myself wishes to communicate with you, we can. There is also a small speaker built into the bed. This is a very large house. It’s easy to lose you way. Therefore, when you are summoned, I will come for you.”

  Kathy smiled at the stern faced woman, “I don’t think, Mrs. Foster, that summoned is exactly the right word. I’m here at the invitation of Doctor Gruber. I’m here as a guest.”

  “I’ve been informed, Mrs. Ryan, that Doctor Gruber intends to summon you to his study at seven o’clock. Before you are summoned, Mrs. Ryan, I suggest you freshen up.” The older woman stepped back and studied Kathy, “Summoned, is exactly the right word. I assume you’ve brought acceptable attire and shoes?” she asked frowning.

  “Yes, of course.” Kathy glared back at her. “I have things in my suitcase.”

  “Unpack, then.” She pointed to a closet. “You can hang your clothes there.” She turned to leave saying, “You know what the Masters expect.” Not waiting for an answer, she closed the door. Kathy heard the key turn in the lock.

  “To hell with what the Masters expect,” Kathy said half aloud. No one here could force her to stay. She’d not hear from Madam Khe so perhaps the contract had been cancelled. There was no way she could help her sister-in-law. Abul was dead and so were Ruben and Sheila. Gruber and his lunatic nephew couldn’t threaten her with anything. She took a long leisurely bath then reapplied her makeup, nothing special, just lipstick and a touch of eye shadow. She was sorry now that she hadn’t packed another dress. Since her yellow linen suit and flat sandals were none the worse for the trip, she decided to put them back on. She’d let Gruber know from the start that he couldn’t dictate what she would wear. She lay on the bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

  Several hours later, Kathy was awakened by the sound of Mrs. Foster’s voice crackling through the speakers. “Dr. Gruber will see you now. I’m coming to escort you to his study.” Suddenly Kathy felt the familiar coil of fear twist in her stomach. She cursed herself for phoning the crazy Doctor and for coming here. She would just meet him and say she’d thought it over and concluded it would be best if she left right away. She wasn’t interested in watching the “entertainments” or in having sex with Frederick’s big black servant, Jamie.

  She heard the key in the lock and Mrs. Foster swung open the door. The old woman glared at her. “You said you’d brought acceptable attire.”

  “This, Mrs. Foster, is as acceptable as I intend to get.”

  The woman spun on her heel and motioned for Kathy to follow her. They went along the hallway and down the sweeping staircase. Kathy remembered that Gruber’s study was in the front of the house, the windows facing the circular drive. Her last visit to
the study was terrifying. Gruber and Frederick had described, in vivid detail, what her life would be like if Satomi, the Japanese who held her contract, chose to give her to the Doctor. She would, they had said, eventually become Frederick’s pet, his dog whore. Her function would be to amuse the Doctor and his friends by offering herself to Frederick’s German Schnauzer, Negra, and to the dogs of their rich and powerful friends. They were, of course, insane. She’d escaped all that. She was now, once more, in complete control of her own life. But why, then, had she felt somehow compelled to return here? Why wasn’t she at home, attending a dance at the country club, or a lecture at the university, or a play in the city? Why here in this gloomy fortress with the two men she most feared in the world?

  After Mrs. Foster had closed the study door behind her, Kathy didn’t move. Across the vast expanse of his study Doctor Gruber, pale and emaciated, sat studying her for several minutes. Without speaking he indicated she was to sit in the chair facing his huge desk. When she was seated a thin smile crossed his lips. “Well, Mrs. Ryan, I see that you are dressed for travel. Are you thinking about leaving us so soon? Why you’ve only just arrived.” He stared across at her, unblinking.

  Kathy was forced to look down at her hands twisting nervously in her lap. She had trouble finding her voice, “Ah…yes, Doctor, I’m sorry, but this just isn’t going to work. I thought…I thought…that…” She looked up at him, “But now that I’m here it’s…it’s uncomfortable.” She looked over his head through the window. Her rented car was no longer in the driveway. “I’ve decided to go back home.”

  “But, my dear, you haven’t renewed your acquaintance with Frederick. He’s been so looking forward to seeing you.”

  “I’m sorry, truly sorry to disappoint you…both of you, but, well this was a bad idea from the start.” From somewhere behind her, almost inaudible, came the sound of the five discordant notes. Or maybe she was just hearing them again in her head. She felt her resolve slipping away.