Teena: A House of Ill Repute

by Jennifer Jane Pope

  'But I don't really know that much about her,' I rejoined. 'I made a load of assumptions, but that's all they were. Maybe she's just prepared to go along with what she thinks I'm thinking.'

  'Like running a brothel?'

  'I wish you wouldn't call it that,' I complained. 'That's not what I have in mind, not if you mean a simple whorehouse where any old Tom, Dick or Harry can go for a quick leg-over. No, I was thinking about something a lot more sophisticated than that, something that would cater to the less usual tastes.'

  'Oh my, we should have Anne-Marie back here if that's what you're thinking, but then I don't suppose they had rubber gear back here, did they?'

  I shook my head. 'Not as far as I know, but there's plenty of leather - the dog suit and other things they used on me are proof of that - plus all the usual lace, silk, satin and so on. What they don't have is nearly a century-and-a-half of other people's inventiveness to benefit from, and they almost certainly don't have an Anne-Marie.'

  'Well, I hate to point out the obvious,' Andrea drawled, 'but neither do we, not unless you reckon she's going to suddenly start time hopping with us.'

  'Well, if we had a real need for her,' I replied slowly, considering this possibility, 'I wouldn't discount the idea. After all, you popped up in this time at a very opportune moment for me and I'm far from convinced that was just some sort of lucky coincidence.'

  'But,' I went on thoughtfully, 'we don't actually need Anne-Marie, do we? I mean, we've both experienced her cunningly inventive little mind, you especially, so all we have to do is make use of what she's already taught us, and maybe change a few things to suit our own particular circumstances. I'm sure between us we could conjure up something the right people would be more than willing to pay handsomely for.'

  'But why?' Andrea protested.

  'Well, for a start there's the money angle,' I replied. 'Our funds won't last forever. Besides, as I said before, I don't think we've been brought back here just to play hide-and-seek with Hacklebury and Meg.'

  'So instead you want to start a new career as a Madame, is that it? And I suppose you think I'm going to be happy to play the whore for you? I don't think that'll sit well with Indira when she's back in her body.'

  'I'm sure there will be female clients soon enough,' I said. 'And I reckon we could recruit a couple of girls easily enough, especially if Erik goes up to London with a few quid in his pocket.'

  'Ugh!' Andrea looked disgusted. 'I've heard about London whores in Victorian times!'

  'So, we get Erik to rescue a couple of young girls, bring 'em back here and scrub 'em up and get them some decent things. Afterwards we can give them enough money so they don't have to go back on the street again, which means at least someone else will get something good out of all this.'

  'After what?' Andrea demanded.

  I winked. 'After we've settled Hacklebury's hash, and hopefully Megan's, too.'

  'And how are we going to do that and run a brothel at the same time?'

  'I think I prefer the term House of Ill Repute, actually.' I smirked. 'And that's all part of the plan.'

  'Oh well, that's all right then,' she muttered, 'just as long as you have a plan. Silly me for thinking you were just making this up as we go along, but if there's a plan, well, who am I to argue?'

  'Well,' I admitted, 'I only have part of the plan so far, but I'm working on it and I'm sure it'll all come together, no pun intended.'

  Andrea pursed those full Indira lips and stared hard at me. 'Would it be too much to ask you to share this part plan with me, or is it going to be a surprise?'

  'Only for Hacklebury and Megan,' I assured her, 'but if I tell you, you've got to promise to trust me, because this is likely to be just a bit tricky and perhaps more than a bit dangerous.'

  She continued to stare at me for a moment, and then heaved a long sigh of resignation. 'How come that's not a complete surprise to me?'

  Unless you've experienced it for yourself, it's more than just a bit difficult to understand how much of a struggle it can be to come to terms with a time-shifting habit that always lands you back in your own century mere seconds after you left it, but which deposits you back in the past almost at random. One time I would go back only seconds after I had last left eighteen thirty-nine, yet another time it might be days, even weeks later, when I next turned up there, and it would take me a good few hours to catch up and fill in the blank bits.

  But I digress and, in any case, this particular stay in the past turned out to be quite a lengthy one, so much so that when I was finally whisked back to that huge underground crypt at Carmen's, I had all but forgotten what had been happening when I was originally there. But more of that in a while...

  For the particular moment - that is in eighteen thirty-nine - I set about preparing to put my half formed plan into action, not anywhere near sure of how the thing would eventually be executed and yet somehow certain I would think of something when the time came. For now there were simply basic things that had to be done, and so I set about making sure they were dealt with.

  I started by negotiating a price for two of us - Andrea/Indira and myself - to remain at the inn for anything up to a month, which was the time I calculated it would take to make the old mill house at least partially habitable. I then despatched Erik to find a local builder who was prepared to undertake the work needed. Then, having haggled for an afternoon with one Mister Jonas White and finally settled on a figure, I sent our giant Viking to London with sufficient funds to accomplish the task of finding our first recruits, and with a diamond necklace to sell for the best price he could get.

  The next several days were really quite boring, although my sweet little Andrea/Indira was becoming adept at finding new ways to distract me and pass the chilly evenings. Initially, I was expecting to be thrown forward to my own time at almost any moment, for our last few time-shifts had been of short duration and taken place with rapid regularity. Now, for some reason, it seemed I was destined to spend a protracted period as Angelina, which considering we had fallen into quite a boring routine struck me as curious. However, ours was not to reason why, as Tennyson was to write a few years hence, so I contented myself with daily visits to the house to keep an eye on the builders (believe me, builders haven't changed much in the past century-and-a-half) and with finding a local dressmaker who could give substance to one or two of my own particular designs, and who I could trust to keep quiet about their uniqueness.

  I also spent some hours with the shoemaker, who was more than happy to accommodate some of my more extreme ideas and even came up with a few modifications and improvements of his own. A very creative and perceptive man was Milton Faraday, and a craftsman who took the most impressive pride in the finished quality of his work.

  'The ladies who wear these,' he said, presenting me with one pair of very long and particularly high-heeled boots, 'must be very special indeed. I would very much like to meet them,' he added with a sly smile.

  'Oh, you shall,' I promised him, 'and I just know they will be especially delighted to thank the man whose work they are so certain to enjoy.' That particular penny was anything but slow in the dropping, and resulted in an immediate ten percent discount not only on the boots in question, but on everything else I proceeded to commission.

  I had arranged with Erik for him not to return to Arundel for at least three weeks, for I did not want to attract undue attention by billeting two or three additional 'ladies' at the inn, and he could not have timed it better. Twenty-three days into the project, our builder had succeeded in getting the kitchen serviceable, the first sitting room at least draught proof, and two of the bedrooms up to a stage where they needed only rugs and furniture. He was also able to direct me to an auction at a farm about ten miles away where the grand total of six pounds purchased four beds, three chests of drawers, an assortment of curtains and a selection of floor coverings, all of which the sales agent agreed to have delivered the following day for an additional three shillings. As I said, the ti
ming couldn't have been better.

  The same afternoon my purchases were installed, our carriage trundled into the High Street with Erik perched on top, and when it finally came to a halt, it disgorged three rather unusual lady passengers. I had given Erik explicit instructions, which he had carried out meticulously, and so the girls did not immediately appear to be what they were. However, a good bath and decent clothing will only cover so many sins, so I thought it best to move them on to the house without further delay.

  As they filed into the one usable sitting room, I had to admit Erik had done well, for they were indeed young and, in their new finery, more than passably pretty. They told me their names in turn and then I selected aliases for each of them.

  'Best no one knows who you really are,' I explained, and they all nodded knowingly. Even at their tender ages, and with their careers still in the equivalent of the nursery stage, they were experienced enough to know a good idea when they heard it, and so Milly, Molly and Mandy came into being.

  Milly was the eldest, though she was only just twenty-one, a tall brunette with a narrow waist and slender neck. She had large green eyes and a ready smile and in many ways reminded me of my real self, except that even I wouldn't have used some of her language under the severest provocation. I resolved to work on that part of her and without wasting too much time, either.

  Molly and Mandy were actually cousins, as it turned out, both nineteen and with only three or four weeks between them. Neither was entirely sure of her actual birth date, but that didn't seem to worry them so I decided it shouldn't worry me. One was blonde and the other a sort of reddish-brunette. Both were pretty enough, although Mandy had one slightly chipped tooth, and both were bright and alert, causing me to wonder what a decent educational system might have made of them. I suspected that if my plan eventually worked and I was able to send them on their way with a decent nest egg, then the world outside might have to look to itself.

  And speaking of nest eggs, Erik had excelled himself with the necklace. Four hundred pounds he gave me, and well pleased he was, too.

  'Five different places tried I,' he explained proudly. 'One man fifty pounds did he offer, but fooled was I not. The eyes were giving it away, for greedy they were and too anxious he was to go up to seventy when first said I not. Knew I then that more was it worth.'

  'You've done really well, Erik,' I said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

  He blushed, and then beamed like a child.

  I found it all but impossible to accept that this was the same man who, only a few weeks earlier, had been... but then you already know about that, so I won't go into it again. Suffice it to say that Erik really did appear to be bent on atonement, and I decided there and then he was due at least some sort of special reward I could also use to introduce my little bed companion to a few joys of which she was as yet totally ignorant.

  'Right,' I said, looking around at my five companions, 'in the morning we start cleaning and organising the usable rooms, and over the next week we should be able to get the rest of the house in order. After that, once I figure out the best way to get the word out in the right places, we start getting down to business.'

  A moment later I found myself back in the crypt again, surrounded by flickering lamplight and a gathering crowd of fetishists who would have frightened the very life out of their Victorian ancestors.

  4.

  I suffered the distinct impression I had been out of my own body for more than a few seconds, perhaps not all that long in relative terms, but definitely my absence had to be measured in minutes, for the crypt was beginning to fill with figures. There had to be at least fifty people present now, not including the alcove statues, whose claim to humanity I had not yet been able to establish.

  That mystery was not long in being resolved, for as I watched I saw the lanterns were now giving at least a semblance of illumination to the main nave area. They were being carried on curious curved frames strapped to the backs of a number of rubber-clad forms, that rose up in sort of large shepherd's crook shapes so the lamps hung about twelve inches above their heads as they moved about, with their arms strapped behind them in a peculiar single-sleeve arrangement.

  A group of less hampered rubber figures was busily attaching the harnesses and frames, moving along one side of the wall and pulling forward each of the statue-like alcove figures in turn to adapt them as lamp holders. The green-tinted filters in front of my eyes gave the whole scene an even more surreal aura than it already possessed, making the black silhouettes milling about the place look like predatory alien insects. I glanced up towards the stage area. The figure was still strapped to the slow turning wheel and the red and blue lighting behind it was a reassuring contrast to what was happening nearer to me, which was beginning to feel more like a dream with every passing minute.

  I felt a hand caressing my buttocks and instinctively tried to turn my head, but the stiff collar about my neck meant I had to more or less swivel my entire body from the hips up. I saw Carmen's skeletal mask, the white-rimmed lips drawn back into a permanent grimace, her eyes shining dully behind the slotted leather above.

  'I have plans for you two dollies this evening,' she hissed, her mouth close to my ear, 'but first I have to win the rights to you. I love your mistress dearly, but she is so naive at times, I think I need to take a hand in the next stage of her education. When I win our little wager, I'll have not two, but three love dollies for the night and maybe for most of tomorrow and tomorrow night as well.'

  My eyes widened upon hearing this. I knew Carmen had been impressed with Andrea and myself at the club, for we had excelled ourselves - if that is the right term for our wanton show of abandonment - but now it seemed she wanted to take things further. I looked around for Anne-Marie, but could see no sign of her anywhere.

  As if sensing what I was thinking, Carmen spoke again. 'She's gone to get properly dressed,' she said. 'Soon we shall have a little contest, Anne-Marie and I, and the winner will take all. I have two slaves of my own I have staked against you, but Anne-Marie and I are also part of the wager. The loser will join you dollies as part of tonight's entertainment for the guests. I'll not spoil things by telling you more yet, but you can be sure I have no intention of losing, so it should be great fun.'

  She laughed and patted my backside before turning away and moving off between other figures, not at all concerned at leaving me alone, but then I realised she had no reason to worry. I was gagged, bound, and unlikely to risk the stairs unaided, even if whoever guarded the inner door would let me pass, which I doubted. Besides, I was hardly going to leave without Anne-Marie, and neither could I warn my mistress that she was almost certainly being set up. I wondered just how Carmen was intending to fix the coming contest, but I had to wait at least another hour to find out, an hour during which, separated not only from Anne-Marie, but now from Andrea as well, I was forced to wander aimlessly amidst the growing throng, a target for every prying, probing hand. I was groped, spanked and even kissed upon my inanimate lips by an assortment of the most bizarrely clad and curious people anyone could ever want to encounter in one place.

  As at the club, the numbers were divided fairly clearly between what Anne-Marie had explained to me were 'tops' and 'bottoms', that is, dominants and submissives, or masters and mistresses and their slaves. Almost all were clad in either leather or rubber, the 'tops' mostly, though not exclusively, in the former, the 'bottoms', or slaves, mostly in the latter, although there were a few submissives whose outfits seemed to consist merely of leather harnesses that were both decorative and restrictive at the same time.

  Many of the slaves were obviously with their masters and mistresses, either leashed or sometimes just connected to them by means of chains attached to belts or wrists, but others, like myself, were left to roam on their own, at the mercy of anyone who wanted to exploit their helplessness, though I noticed no one took any really undue advantage of me, merely contenting themselves with patting and pinching and the odd play
ful spank.

  My doll face, however, seemed to draw more attention than most. Of course, like the majority of the other slaves here, my identity was hidden behind it, but unlike the others, my face did have features, no matter how inanimate. I was a sort of 'halfway' creature, and apparently quite a novelty, for there were several comments made, including one or two to the effect that they would have to find out where they could purchase similar masks for their own slaves.

  Behind my mask I sucked and chewed the gag in frustrated silence. I wanted to find some way of warning Anne-Marie, but of course there was none, and neither would there be until well after it was too late. I groaned inwardly and tried to ease my way into the shadows between two of the pillars, backing up against the stonework in an effort to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Not that it would make any difference in the long run, I knew, and all I could do was continue waiting until the inevitable happened. I just hoped Carmen wouldn't carry out her threat to keep us all here until after the following night, for although I could still find my enforced bondage arousing, to endure it for perhaps another day-and-a-half was not a prospect I relished.

  If conditions in the original kennel building had been harsh, those in which Maudie now found herself were positively grim. The rough cell in which she was incarcerated was barely six feet by six feet, and hidden away beneath the remains of an old watchtower the locals still referred to as Scartley Manor, although there were none now still alive who could remember a time when there had been a house on the small knoll on which it stood, nor even any who could recall when the tower itself had been more than the rubble-strewn ruin it now was.

  Maudie herself had previously only seen the dark outline from the top of Tanley Hill, a good two miles away, across the marshland that was the result of a major shift in the courses of two local rivers, a phenomena legend had it was a warning from God to Henry VIII, whose soldiers, under Sir Hector Scartley, sacked several monasteries in the area some three centuries earlier. As a result, the Manor had been left on a small islet, cut off from the rest of the country by treacherous bogs and whirlpools and reachable only by boat. Over the ensuing century, the house had been left to fall into disrepair and eventually dismantled for salvage, leaving only the tower, which had steadily crumbled under the onslaughts of successive seasons.