House of Temptations

by Yvonne Strickland

  Til go first,' said Rose, dabbing perfume liberally about neck and arms. 'Give us about fifteen minutes; that back door lock is a bit stiff. Then you follow. If it looks like he's already in, I'll wait outside for you, right? If he isn't, I'll be inside, so you come up and knock.'

  Rose pulled open the door and, after a brief glance each way, grinned at Jackie and headed off to the left.

  'See you later, kid!' hissed Jackie before closing the door.

  Rose continued on past the door of what was now Cheryl's apartment, and on to the dimly lit and little used back stairs. She continued downward past wall lamps with ornate brass fittings and, reaching the bottom of the stairs, stopped. Ahead and to the left was the ground floor passage. There were voices. After a few seconds, the voices died down. Rose moved on. Glancing along the passage to the front entrance, she caught sight of Annette in a black T-shirt and denim mini-skirt, her rich auburn hair swaying about her shoulders as she pushed through the swing doors and left the house to hurry down the steps and into the night.

  Rose was tempted, almost, to forget about opening the lock and using the back entrance. Having seen the glamorous form of Annette, she wondered if her own appearance would attract undue attention. But a change of plan would mean retracing her steps to tell Jackie not to go this way. So she moved on to the end of the short hallway where the solid wooden door to her right stood opposite the cellar entrance.

  She carefully slid the old iron bolts aside and bent down to give her attention to the lock. Working quickly, with the advantage of much practice and a length of wire coat-hanger, she heard the mechanism give with a grating click. Seconds later, she was through and easing the door silently shut.

  There was little illumination at the back of the house. The ground floor windows were higher, for the land fell away in that direction. It was familiar territory to Rose, nevertheless, for during several days of hiding out in the grounds, she had used this route to gain access to the kitchens in order to obtain food. She remembered too, that the ground was hard and would cause no problems for high-heeled shoes. From the end of the house and the annexe, she could pass directly in amongst the trees, with no need to cross the driveway until she had gone past the swimming pool on the other side.

  The air was warm and carried the whirring of cicadas on a soft breeze. The stars arrayed themselves about the heavens even though the faint afterglow of the vanished day still hung in the west. Annette reached into her shoulder bag, fumbling for her cigarettes and lighter. As there was nobody else about, she had switched off the pool lights and sat waiting in the darkness amongst the sunshades and tables. She was about to light the cigarette when something attracted her attention.

  A short way up the drive, a figure emerged from the wooded backdrop, easily seen as it crossed the driveway for the tall lamps there were not switched off until much later in the evening. Annette replaced the cigarette in its packet and arose quietly. She hurried along the poolside and around the bushes at the far end, going in the same direction as the figure which was, for the moment, out of sight. Her objective was the low embankment which obscured the drive further along where it curved towards the road. She only hesitated to remove her high heels, for the ground was softer here. Immediately over the rise, some distance beyond the driveway, stood the chalet.

  The light in the small porch was switched on and illuminated the figure, now easily identifiable, as it stood waiting at the door. Annette saw her raise her hand and heard a tapping noise drift across on the night air. She continued to watch as Rose bent and occupied herself intently, close to the door. Annette wondered for a time what kept her so occupied, until the front door opened and Rose slipped inside.

  'Hi!' came the voice from amongst the sunshades as Annette approached, i was beginning to wonder where you'd gone. I found your bag here.'

  Mike, in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, sat in semi-obscurity at the small table.

  'Just a little diversion, Mike; something unexpected, or so I assume.'

  'Unexpected? What d'you mean?'

  She smiled close to his face, i just saw somebody letting themselves into your place.'

  'What!'

  'Yes, I wondered if you had hired them to tidy it up at the last minute just to impress me.'

  'Are you serious?' he asked, rising up and pushing back his chair.

  'Oh, absolutely,' she answered with unnerving calmness.

  'You're just standing there telling me I'm being broken into?'

  'Don't fret, dear,' she continued, it's not a burglar and, you'll be glad to know, it's not the police either.'

  'Well come on, who is it?'

  Annette moved around the table to face him. Tell me,' she breathed, 'were you expecting company tonight?'

  'Of course I was - you!'

  'No, I mean anyone else?'

  'Annette, you're winding me up! Why would I want anyone else coming around tonight of all nights? What the hell is going on?'

  She leant forward and kissed him on the lips, her warm, perfumed breath caressing his face. 'Let's go back now. I think you may be in for a little surprise. At least I hope you are, dear!'

  She stepped away towards the driveway and he followed, taking her hand, seeing that she was evidently in no mood to hurry. Further questions met with no more than a smile. They followed the curve of the driveway in silence until they reached the short, unlit path to the chalet.

  Jackie eased the door shut. She too had glanced briefly along the corridor and seen no one. Uppermost in her mind was the thought of where Rose might now be, and if she had succeeded in gaining access to the chalet without being seen. She kept her eyes fixed on the carpet ahead and passed quietly by the arched doorways with the ornate lamps casting an amber glow upon the white walls. She did not glance at Cheryl's door, nor at any other. She had all but reached the rear stairs and placed her fingers upon the bannister when a voice behind called, 'And where do you think you are going?'

  Jackie froze, her mouth half opened. She took a deep breath and turned.

  'Well answer me!' said Cheryl, approaching with a coldly determined expression.

  For that moment, Jackie's insides felt as though she was descending in a high-speed lift. 'Er, I'm going to meet Rose in the bar.'

  'Oh really! And how long has she been waiting for you, do you think?'

  'Em, not long - I'm not sure.'

  'Well it can't be more than a few seconds, because that is where I have been for the last hour and she most certainly wasn't in evidence during that time!' Cheryl looked her up and down with slow and deliberate attentiveness, as if to question her glamorous attire.

  Jackie stood in silence. Cheryl, dressed in a dark blue, close-fitting sleeveless dress, cut just above her knees, might not have looked intimidating, but Jackie was not reassured.

  'She must have gone out then,' said Jackie weakly.

  'Gone out where?'

  'How should I know?'

  'Because you share the same room,' replied Cheryl, 'and you are together for most of the time!'

  Jackie shrugged, leant against the wall and folded her arms in resignation, her gaze fixed on the white skirting board by the top of the stairs.

  'So,' continued Cheryl, 'we have established that she isn't waiting for you in the bar and, as you claim you don't know where she is, there isn't a lot of point in your going downstairs to see her, is there?'

  'Suppose not,' answered Jackie, lifting her eyes to stare at the brass wall light opposite. Even that seemed to shine accusations at her.

  'I think you had better come with me. I was looking for you anyway.'

  Jackie followed back the way she had come, heart beating hard, a disturbing current passing through her belly.

  Once inside the main room, Cheryl turned and ran a finger under the shoulder string of Jackie's white top. 'Let's have this off. And the skirt! And whatever you have on underneath!'

  'What are you ...?''

  Cheryl continued to watch her. Jackie hesitated, then p
ulled the top up over her head to reveal naked breasts and hard, pink nipples. She began to loosen the belt as Cheryl said, 'You will spend the remainder of the evening under strict confinement. I'll talk to our friend Rose when she returns. I doubt if we're going to find her anywhere in the house though, are we?'

  Jackie stood silently, in nothing but stockings and high-heeled sandals, biting her lip.

  'Sit down and remove the sandals too,' ordered Cheryl.

  Jackie obeyed and sat down on a green leather stool, her heart beating almost audibly, her body feeling a tremor of anticipation. She fumbled nervously with the ankle straps. The shoes were undone and laid aside. Cheryl walked to the far end of the room where, on the left side, stood the doorway with the black curtain, leading into the darkened chamber. It was a place with which Jackie was already acquainted. But the fact that Jackie had been obliged to experience what it had to offer did not mean that the immediate future was predictable. The small room and its fittings could, and had, been put to varying uses, as she could well testify.

  When Cheryl reappeared, she had tucked under her arm a folded black object which held a glint of metal. Jackie recognised the nature of the garment even before Cheryl stopped close by her side and the pungent odour of latex drifted up to her face. Jackie felt the blood coursing through her veins and took a deep breath as Cheryl let it fall open before her to reveal the horizontal rubber sleeve running across the inside.

  'You know what to do, Jackie! Now, arms in here!'

  Jackie pushed first one arm and then the other into the sleeve until they crossed over inside. Cheryl moved behind, pulled the garment over her shoulders to enclose her arms and upper body completely, and at once began to fasten the row of heavy straps at the rear. Jackie, no stranger to this type of restraint, stood looking ahead, swaying on her feet as the straps were tightened and the straitjacket constricted. But on this occasion, she became aware of something which caused her to turn her head with an expression of wide-eyed surprise. 'Cheryl, I thought this was an ordinary . ..'

  She had glanced down at the heavy, pouch-like object hanging below her chin. 'I won't be able to -'

  'That's right,' cut in Cheryl, 'you won't!'

  Most of the straps were secured and Jackie knew the futility of struggle. Cheryl reached over her shoulders and lifted up the flaccid rubber from beneath Jackie's chin, pulling it up over her face and down to enclose her head in a blank skin of heavy latex. As the visible world disappeared into darkness, Jackie felt and tasted the soft rubber bulb inside the helmet pushing insistently against her lower face. The bulb pressed ever harder as Cheryl secured the remaining straps at the neck and rear of the hood, until it eventually slipped inside her mouth. Cheryl took a second bulb which, via a short length of black tubing, she screwed on to the small valve at the front of the helmet. With a hand on the back of Jackie's head, she began to squeeze this bulb with a rapid movement of her fingers. Its lesser companion inflated quickly inside Jackie's mouth until it pressed hard against her cheeks.

  There,' breathed Cheryl, releasing the bulb. 'Nice and helpless, just the way we like it.'

  Jackie stood motionless, sheathed from head to waist in gleaming black rubber, her only link with the outside world a small group of breathing holes under the nostrils and around the inflation valve. The hand, now on her shoulder, pushed and guided her along the room. She stepped cautiously, telling herself she could come to no harm, but she was filled with disquiet nevertheless. She wanted to ask Cheryl to stop the rubber bulb swinging from side to side on the end of its short tube beneath her chin, but any sound she might make would be stifled and meaningless.

  She heard Cheryl push open a door ahead and switch on the light. It was obvious they were entering the bathroom and she knew what awaited her there. Cheryl manoeuvred her around and said, 'Sit down.'

  She prepared for the chill of the hard blue porcelain bowl against the backs of her legs, but it always felt colder than expected. Cheryl had no need to fasten the leather strap about her chest to hold her firmly against the padded back rest, nor to fasten her legs wide apart over the bowl. But it was a part of the ritual and it was going to be done. It was intended to prove to Jackie how totally under control she was, and further proof was to follow. She could hear the rubber bottle being filled with soap solution and warm water, and sounds which would have been meaningless to others, but not to Jackie. Cheryl's dress brushed against her knee. In her mind's eye, Jackie could see her reaching up to the small bracket on the wall above to suspend the sagging bottle from it.

  Anticipation stirred within her loins but Jackie remained outwardly relaxed. She recalled the first time they had done this to her and how she had resisted for a time. It had made no difference then and would make none now. When the blunt and lubricated end of the rubber nozzle touched against her anus, she tightened the muscles involuntarily. Cheryl heard her breathe in sharply through the helmet. But the instrument entered easily with cool insistence, moving remorselessly up inside, pushing into her rectum. Even though her eyes were covered by the thick rubber skin, she closed them and sighed, for she had absolved herself long ago of the guilt she had experienced when she first realised that this ordeal of humiliation was becoming a source of carnal pleasure.

  Cheryl's latex-gloved hand touched under her thigh. The small valve at the base of the nozzle was turned. At once Jackie felt the surge inside her lower body as the rubber bottle above deflated and emptied. After a moment, the nozzle was withdrawn, slowly and sensually. The sound of water swirling in a vortex beneath was reassuring, for the murmuring within her bowels had already begun. Soon the murmuring became an uncontrollable urge. A hand took her chin and lifted it, pushing back the rubber-sheathed head as her body discharged itself in shameful, ecstatic relief.

  The ritual was not quite finished. The flow of water inside the bowl was reduced. Jackie stiffened as the gloved fingers, slippery with soap, coursed about her most intimate and sensitive places in a final act of cleansing. Cheryl knew Jackie's threshold; knew for how long she should continue and knew how Jackie would silently beg her to go on. Before the crisis arrived, before Jackie lost control of herself in a different way, Cheryl stopped. What Cheryl did not do was going to be a part of the punishment.

  Mike inserted the key into the lock carefully and quietly. The door swung open. The hallway was dark, except for a thin strip of light showing beneath the lounge door. He turned to Annette, close behind him, and placed a finger against his lips. She smiled and prodded him on. What she did not tell him was that she had seen a face and a pair of eyes staring briefly from the bedroom window with an expression of alarm as she and Mike walked up the pathway.

  Cautiously, he pushed open the first door. They knew that anyone inside the house would need to exit this way unless they escaped via a window or had unlocked the rear door. There was no intruder to be seen.

  'Did you leave the light on?' asked Annette.

  'Don't remember,' he answered quietly. 'Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.'

  'What about that glass on the table? There's still something in it.'

  'Never mind that,' he hissed, moving forwards. 'I'm going to take a look in the kitchen. Don't you move.'

  She watched him reach around the door and switch on the light. As he disappeared, Annette hurried over to the bedroom door, which stood ajar, pushed inside and quickly found the light switch. Her eyes darted about the room, behind the door and back over to the bed. She sniffed the air, knowing it was not the smell of aftershave which permeated the still air of the room. To her left stood a tall, pine wardrobe. She eyed this with a mischievous smile, for the door hung slightly open and a faint creaking reached her ear. Annette walked over and pulled the door wide. 'All right dear, you can come out now!'

  There came a scratching and shuffling as the apprehensive Rose unbent and emerged awkwardly from the confined space. Mike entered the room, saying, There's a strong smell of perfume or something coming from ...'

  His expression at f
irst was one of surprise, slowly turning to amused bewilderment as he watched her tugging down on the hem of the vinyl mini-skirt. It had ridden up as she struggled out of the wardrobe and was in danger of revealing what she did not have on beneath.

  i don't suppose this has anything to do with you, has it?' he asked Annette.

  'No it hasn't. If it was anything to do with me, I wouldn't have had the poor girl stuffed inside your wardrobe. There's no telling what's in there!'

  Rose let out a long breath. 'It's the only place I could find. There's an old case and other stuff shoved under the bed and I didn't have time to unlock the back door.'

  'Yes, he's an untidy sod,' said Annette, glancing at the bed and the open wardrobe. 'You must have noticed that as soon as you got in.'

  'Er, excuse me!' Put in the indignant Mike. 'Never mind about my housekeeping.' Annette rolled her eyes and tutted as he continued. 'What I'd like to know is how you got into the place, and what you're up to!'

  Rose was about to attempt an answer when Annette said, 'She comes from a family of lockpickers, don't you dear?'

  'Yes,' stuttered Rose, i picked my first lock in primary school; it was just a bit of fun. Jackie and I were going to give you a surprise; just for a laugh.'

  'And where might your little friend be hiding?' asked Mike.

  i don't know,' answered Rose. 'I thought it was her coming up the path when you turned up. She's not in here, honest.'

  'She probably saw us and changed her mind,' said Annette.

  Mike, a faint smile on his face, was regarding Rose with greater attention, noticing the way in which the chiffon blouse hung on her breasts and revealed so clearly her prominent nipples. His eyes moved down to the vinyl miniskirt stretched across the curve of her behind, as she turned with an anxious glance to Annette. 'Look, you won't say anything, will you? If Cheryl or Sonia find out we'll be for it again.'

  'We won't say anything, will we?' responded Annette, shifting her attention to the preoccupied Mike, whose eyes were presently concentrated on Rose's long, shapely legs in their delicate black lace.