House of Temptations

by Yvonne Strickland

  'Oh GesuV groaned Rodolfo as he caught sight of her in the mirror. *Pronto! La chiave/'

  'The key is in the other room,' replied Annette. 'I'll go and look for it whilst you talk to Carlene.'

  'No, no,' replied Carlene, moving up to the side of the chained figure, 'leave the guy where he is! He's doing just fine!'

  Rodolfo looked into her large brown eyes and at her body, dressed from head to foot in its crimson red, form-fitting catsuit of soft leather and the stiletto-heeled ankle boots in shining black.

  i take it, honey, we were going to have some kind of lesson here,' she said.

  'Yes,' replied Annette. 'English lessons actually.'

  They stood facing each other, at either side of Rodolfo, ensuring that his form was not obscured from the direction of the mirror.

  'Full English?' asked Carlene. The way some of those old guys in London like it?'

  'Well I hadn't really thought,' answered Annette. 'But if you want. You know what he likes.'

  Carlene looked him up and down, and noted his flagging erection.

  'Oh, Christ, what a shame, Roddy,' she said with a look of concern. 'You've gone off the boil. Maybe I can do something to sweeten you up a little. You bastard!'

  'Oh, Carlene!' he blurted out. 'This is not fair. I am sedurro. I am compelled by this woman! She is misleading me here!'

  'You talk much too much!' responded Carlene. 'Even when you don't say a lot!'

  Carlene strode to a small table by the wall. Upon it lay several items, placed there by Annette but unnoticed by Rodolfo. She returned and Rodolfo watched her position herself behind him, unaware of what she held in her hands. Annette smiled into his face and raised a finger close to his nose. Rodolfo focused his eyes upon the finger and was about to speak when the red rubber ball was planted firmly into his open mouth. Justas quickly, with Annette's finger keeping it in place, Carlene tightened and buckled the strap behind his head.

  'Nnnnnnng!' came the cry of protest. Carlene stepped back.

  isn't that incredible?' said Annette, it's exactly the same in Italian as it is in our language!'

  'And here's something else that's the same!' added Carlene, picking up the three-tailed leather strap from the floor behind Rodolfo. She raised her arm up and swung. A sharp crack rang about the room and the wide-eyed Rodolfo jerked hard with shock as the leather fell hard across his small, firm buttocks.

  'There!' exclaimed Carlene. 'And I didn't even notice any accent!'

  'None at all,' agreed Annette. 'Perhaps if I have a go.'

  'Why not, honey,' agreed Carlene. 'There's another strap just like this one over on that table, by sheer coincidence!'

  A look of despair crossed Rodolfo's features as Annette returned with the second strap. Carlene stood with legs astride, hands on hips, full, sensual lips parted and eyes flashing. 'Have you heard what this bastard's been up to?' she called. 'You wouldn't believe! He took advantage of young Jackie when she was helpless and in her own room!'

  'Oh no! In her own room?' repeated Annette with a look of astonishment. That's awful, Carlene! He insisted on me doing this, so I could give him - you know. I realise now how much he deserves to be punished!'

  Annette brought her strap up and swung it with a crack against his thigh. Carlene did likewise with the other. 'Bas-tar do!" she yelled as each of them swung in turn and the strokes began to fall in rapid succession. 'Stronzo! Stronzo grande.r

  Rodolfo let out anguished cries through the gag, his body jerking and twisting frantically in hopeless attempts to avoid the biting sting of the two implements of torment being applied with undiminishing vigour to his behind and legs. The semi-flaccid penis bobbed about with each crack. Carlene glanced at it and exclaimed, 'Watch his jewels! Without those he'd be a zombie!'

  Within five excruciating minutes, Rodolfo's behind and thighs were distinctly reddened and glowing. With a final resounding crack against his left buttock, Carlene laid aside the strap, took a step backward and with hands on hips once more, cast her eyes over his body. Annette leant against the back of a chair with her aching arms folded.

  'Boy!' declared Carlene. 'You can almost feel the heat! This guy could keep your room warm in winter if he got a daily dose!'

  'Yes,' agreed Annette, 'but there's always the other.'

  Carlene moved around to the front of the outstretched figure and they both observed his penis, now showing signs of a regenerating erection.

  'It's the only part of him that ever does any work!' remarked Carlene. 'I suppose we'd better give it it's exercise. What d'you say, honey?'

  'I agree,' replied Annette. 'Wait a second.'

  She moved away to the small table and pulled open the drawer beneath it. Carlene could not see what she was about, but in the intervening time she retrieved the strap and stood dragging the tails slowly along Rodolfo's quivering erection. Annette returned and held up the small diaphragm of translucent pink latex with rolled edges and protruding teat.

  'Oh babe!' Carlene grinned. That will save us a bit of trouble.'

  it certainly will. And we have to take care of the carpets.'

  Annette knelt down by the side of the chained and gagged figure, glancing momentarily at the mirror to ensure all concerned had an unhindered view of the proceedings. With the teat pinched between her fingers, she held the condom over the glistening head of his penis and, with deliberate slowness, rolled it little by little along the engorged shaft.

  'He's a Catholic,' said Carlene. 'Did you know? He'll go to purgatory for using one of those - with a bit of luck!'

  'Oh,' replied Annette, 'that means we'll have him as company down there, too.'

  'Christ, that's all I need!' replied Carlene in despair. 'In that case I'm going to sign up as a nun!'

  'Perhaps he'll get remission,' suggested Annette, working the shaft vigorously back and forth with her hand. Rodolfo tensed and began to groan.

  'Pretty soon too, I'd say,' remarked Carlene, seeing his pelvis begin to shake and his head fall back.

  'Ooooh! Geronimo!' sang Annette, gripping the pulsating shaft and seeing his body tense rigid as the rubber teat sprang up hard.

  Rodolfo sagged in the chains with his eyes shut. Annette straightened up. 'One more thing needs to be done,' she said, looking from Rodolfo to Carlene. it will only take a few seconds. If you want to get the keys, they're on the coffee table outside.'

  When Carlene reappeared through the curtain, Annette was occupied with the ankh which still hung about Rod-olfo's neck. She had removed the condom and passed the open end through the loop at the top of the ankh and was busy manipulating the sheath into a knot. Carlene watched her tighten, then release it to hang down and wobble about his chest.

  'Oh, that's great!' laughed Carlene. 'Everyone should see him wearing that!'

  it's got a name,' said Annette.

  it has? Tell me!' said Carlene.

  They looked at each other. Annette grinned, it's called a wankh!'

  That wasn't fair,' said Jackie as Cheryl closed the gate on the steel pen.

  it wasn't fair of him to creep into your room on the sly,' responded Cheryl. 'And it wasn't fair of you to tempt him into it. You both know the rules!'

  'You just did it to spite me!' protested Jackie.

  Cheryl looked at her with cool Nordic eyes, the helmet and inflatable gag hanging from one hand, the heavy latex boots gripped in the other, if I wanted to spite you I would have left these on.'

  Then what about this?' said Jackie, looking down at the smooth black cocoon which still enclosed her upper body and contained her folded arms.

  'You know perfectly well why that is staying on,' replied Cheryl. 'Carlene and Rodolfo leave here in three hours for Lyon. Before then, Valerie will be calling in to take you down to the beauty parlour. You are very tense, my darling. A session down there will help you a lot. After that you'll be released and you can join the others as normal and have a late lunch if you want. Meanwhile, you can sit and watch TV.'

  Cheryl wa
lked around the pen saying, 'I'm going to wash and powder these.'

  'Cheryl!' called Jackie.

  Cheryl stopped short of the bathroom door. 'Yes?'

  'When are they coming back?'

  'When? Well, Carlene will be here for the autumn fashion show. Whether or not she still has lover boy in tow is a different matter. She's overdue for a change of partner.' Cheryl stepped back towards her. 'Look Jackie, nobody is trying to spoil your life. If you want to chase after Rodolfo, you go ahead. But you have to leave here first! Sonia cannot be held responsible. Now, if you want his address in Milan, you shall have it on the day you go. I'll get it from him before they leave if that's what you want! God knows what your father will have to say about it!'

  Cheryl continued on into the bathroom and there remained for some ten minutes. Jackie listened to the faint sounds of running water and the opening and closing of cupboard doors.

  When Cheryl returned, Jackie watched her pass by carrying the newly dried and powdered items. She was about to leave the room to take them across the corridor when Jackie called after her again. She turned in the doorway.

  'Cheryl - don't. I mean, don't say anything to him. I don't want to go from here - not yet.'

  Cheryl looked at her for a moment then nodded. 'Very sensible you are, my sweet.'

  She had pulled out the key and was in the act of opening the playroom door when a sound to her left caused her to hesitate. The door of the spare apartment swung open and a sullen looking Rodolfo appeared. He walked past Cheryl with a nod and a weak smile, followed by Carlene in a purple two-piece, lightweight suit with gold trimmings. As she passed Cheryl, her face broke into a broad grin and she winked one of her large brown eyes.

  Cheryl switched on the soft cornice lights, and closing the door behind her, breathed, 'One down, one more to go.'

  It was just past eight o'clock in the morning and he stood before the bathroom mirror, face covered in shaving foam, razor in hand. Working carefully with the razor, he listened intently to the BBC world news from a small radio resting on the window sill close by. The telephone rang.

  It seldom rang, but when it did, it was usually at an inconvenient time. He knew it would be someone from the house, probably Sonia, for he did not have a line to the outside world. He wiped the foam away with his face cloth and hurried from the bathroom into the lounge.

  'Hello ... Oh, Cheryl, yes ... Yes, 111 be over for breakfast in quarter of an hour or so ... Yes, OK, Fll come up to your office straight after is it anything important? You sound serious ... You can't oh, all right, I'll see you soon.'

  He returned to the bathroom and re-lathered his chin. As he continued with the razor, he smiled at his reflection, seeing in his mind's eye the cool and enticingly sensual features of Cheryl. She was the greatest challenge of all, the south pole of his lustful endeavours, and he was determined to be an Amundsen rather than end up a Scott.

  He sat by the Yucca plant in the conservatory, sipping coffee. As he nibbled on a croissant, he thought of Cheryl.

  'Morning Mike!' came the voice.

  'Oh, hi Angie!' he said, looking up into the blue-grey eyes.

  'You're looking unnaturally smart for a working day,' she observed.

  He looked down at his dark blue chino shirt and newly pressed fawn trousers.

  'He's drenched himself in aftershave too,' came Annette's voice from a table nearby, it's turning my eggs black!'

  'Where are you off to?' asked Angela over her shoulder as she walked over to Annette's table.

  'Oh, er, just a meeting, that's all,' he answered sheepishly.

  At that moment, Kim entered with a plate of food and a glass of orange juice, followed by Valerie. 'God, what's that smell?' she queried, looking about the conservatory.

  it's him,' replied Annette, pointing with her knife at the subdued figure. 'People will think this is a brothel with that stuff wafting around!'

  'I thought it was!' exclaimed Kim.

  'God! She's hit the jackpot again,' breathed Valerie, with mock exasperation.

  Take no notice of them, Mike/ said Angela, seating herself opposite Annette.

  He looked about the conservatory with a puzzled expression.

  'What's up?' asked Kim.

  Tm sure that's not my aftershave,' he replied.

  'Well it's certainly not ours!' put in Valerie.

  He finished the small breakfast and was about to leave the table when his foot tapped against something. Pushing back the chair, he peered beneath the table, sniffing loudly. 'Oh, I see!' he exclaimed. 'And I wonder who that belongs to!'

  On the floor, up against the wall, stood a small bowl. The bowl contained a loosely screwed up paper tissue, doused in a liquid which exuded the powerful aroma of musk. He looked about the room. The only person not smiling at him was Annette, who gazed nonchalantly into space and continued to eat.

  'I might have known,' he breathed, narrowing his eyes at her.

  Annette's green eyes at once switched to him and she protruded her tongue for an instant. Mike could not help a fleeting smile.

  The last time he had approached this doorway had been after a summons from Pauline. He recalled with distinct misgiving his ill-fated attempt to win her over and the humiliating scenario she had manoeuvred him into afterward. But what did he expect from Cheryl? Being truthful to himself, he had no idea other than the impression that she was less physically sadistic than her predecessor. She was certainly more sensual; he had received her attentions directly, the previous year, when Annette's machinations had led to the loin-tingling and well-planned episode in which his plight had been first recorded.

  But events had changed since that time. Cheryl had been a visitor to the house then, and took part as a member of the cast. Now, she was in a situation of authority and might well behave very differently towards him. Like it or not, he was what some people might describe as a bag of nerves.

  He tapped on the door; not too hard, not too softly.

  From inside a voice called, 'Come in.r

  He pushed open the door and entered. She was sat where he expected her to be. In the same place where Pauline had once held sway. It gave him meagre confidence that so little appeared to have changed in the room and he could stride without hesitation or uncertainty to the empty seat before her desk. To the steel pen, now empty, he gave only a fleeting glance. But Cheryl was standing. So he remained standing. They eyed each other for a moment, both without expression.

  "Sit down, Mike,' she said.

  On her desk were a number of papers which she began to clear away. He sat still and watched her intently, taking in her eyes, bluer than his own, her full, red and very sensual lips and the lightly permed blonde hair framing her soft features. Her dress was of plain, black, satin lycra. She wore it off the shoulder but with a high, close-fitting collar so that it flowed smoothly over her well-defined breasts and every curve of her slim body. The hem finished half way down her thighs and his gaze fell upon the part of her legs not hidden by the desk. Her black stockings were sheer, seamed, and held an elusive reflection. Her perfume was heady.

  As she turned to sit down, she smoothed her hands down the sides of her body; not so slowly as to appear deliberate, not so casually as to have been an unconscious act. His partial erection was proving uncomfortable. He squirmed as discreetly as he could in the chair to adjust himself. He was convinced she was manipulating him with every nuance of her behaviour.

  'You're wondering why I asked you up to my office, Mike - yes?'

  *Er - well, yes, of course I am.'

  'Right, of course you are.'

  His nervousness had increased to the point where his mouth was beginning to dry out.

  'You like it at this house, Mike, don't you?' she continued. it suits you. It's taken the place of your life in England and we know you can't go back there even if you wanted to.' She stared at him for a few moments with her lips slightly parted. He wondered if she expected a response to what she had said but he remained silent.
'But your role here,' she went on. it doesn't quite fit in the way it should. You are in a sort of uncertain orbit, never quite touching the ground, never being quite in or out of things, grabbing what you want, or should I say who you want, when the opportunity arises. Isn't that so, Mike?'

  He cleared his throat and pushed himself back into the chair in an attempt to convince her, if not himself, that he felt quite relaxed. 'Sonia pays me to do my job. I look after things outdoors the way she wants; the gardens, the pool, other things. And I get involved sometimes in - in

  'I know perfectly well what you're involved in, Mike. It would be remarkable if I did not! And that is part of the problem. You have become involved by default, because of your little affairs with Annette and the others. You have, in effect, set yourself up as a branch office with its own policies, haven't you?'

  Again he thought it better to allow her to go on uninterrupted.

  'Do you know what this house is all about, Mike? It is, in case you had forgotten, or never realised, about domination and submission. It is not about opportunism. Of course it comes in degrees; shades of grey rather than black and white. We have Jackie at one extreme, let us say white, with Angela, Lorna and Rachel in the pale grey area. We had Pauline at the opposite end, the black end - over the top if you like - with Annette and Valerie still over that side but within reasonable limits.'

  i appreciate what you're telling me, if not why, but they don't all fit so nicely into your scheme, do they? What about Rose, Kim and, if you like, Karen?'

  'We thought Rose was another Jackie at first. But that was because of the role Pauline forced her into. She really isn't that at all. Kim is very adaptable in her own quiet way but hovers towards the paler side of centre. As for Karen, she is Sonia's affair, if you'll pardon the use of the word, but I would place her close to Jackie on our little scale of shades.'

  Cheryl stood up and walked around the desk to lean against the front, just to the left of him. He felt obliged to push back his chair in order to look up and converse with her properly. He considered getting up to face her but something told him she did not wish him to do so.