One Week in the Private House (2 page)

She let her body go limp, so that her weight was supported, from her ribcage to her pelvis, by the sloping and well-cushioned chair seat. This is quite comfortable, under the circumstances, she said to herself; at least Rudi's not a sadist. He could have tied me to a bare table. And in this position, with my face and tits sticking out through the back of the chair, and my arse sticking out at the front -well, I guess I look as though I've been prepared for a beating. Jem shivered as she imagined Rudi's leather belt landing on her outspread buttocks. 'Frankly,' she said out loud, 'anything would be more fun than just waiting here.'

The front door opened. Voices whispered in the hall, but Jem couldn't catch any of the words. She heard doors opening and closing, and then there was silence.

Only two weeks ago, Jem mused, Rudi had been nothing more to her than a potential customer of Executive Environments, the office furnishing company for which she was Home Sales Manager. She had met him for the first time in the deserted foyer of the Grantham Tower, the thirty-storey glass and concrete block that his architectural practice had designed. He and his partners were going to occupy one of the penthouse office suites. Over the telephone he had suggested a working lunch in the empty building, and she had interrupted her taxi journey across the city to buy smoked salmon sandwiches and a bottle of champagne.

Jem remembered standing at the foot of the brand new tower, looking anxiously to right and left while she waited for an answer to her ring on the door phone. She hated to be late for appointments with clients, but on this occasion she had started to wish she had delayed her arrival. If the architect was not in the building, she would have to wait outside; and already her tailored suit, short skirt and pillbox hat had started to attract the attention of the grimier elements of the local population. But the architect had arrived before her; the door had buzzed, and she had pushed through the revolving doors before any of the slack-jawed slatterns had had time to hurl more than abuse.

Rudi had been standing, large, relaxed, and smiling, wearing a crumpled linen suit, next to the reception console that was the only item of furniture in the cavernous foyer, and a sudden lurch in Jem's heartbeat had told her that once again she had fallen in lust at first sight.

His handshake had been warm and strong; he had smelt of lemon-scented aftershave and fresh sweat. It had seemed perfectly natural to hold his hand while entering the lift, and by the time they had reached the top of the building her lips had been pressed against his, and his big hands had been clasping her buttocks. The lift doors had opened to reveal lawns, flower beds, and gravel paths.

This is the roof garden,' Rudi had said, it's a jolly nice day, and I thought we could eat al fresco. Ideal for sunbathing, too, of course; we're miles above the slums, can't be overlooked. I rather think you ought to let me take your clothes off.'

And Jem had simply replied: if you like.'

Standing in the shade of the ornamental birch, Jem had surveyed the shimmering, smog-shrouded cityscape while

Rudi had undressed her. He had removed her jacket and skirt, and had then stood back to appreciate the peach-coloured underwear that clung to her curves. She had posed, half-turning away from him, one hand holding her hat on to her auburn curls, one knee bent, her eyes glancing at him over her shoulder.

'Good Lord, Miss Darke,' he had exclaimed, 'you're a real looker and no mistake!'

It had been at this point that Jem had started to realise that Rudi's conversational skills were perhaps not as thrilling as his muscular body and his deep brown eyes. But what the hell, she had concluded, I'm here for a picnic, not an intellectual debate.

Rudi had almost torn the lace-trimmed bra in his eagerness to get at Jem's breasts. This will have to come off,' he had said, and then, 'What lovely little pink nipples! May I touch them?'

'Go right ahead,' Jem had sighed, 'they're all yours. Maybe you'd better tear my knickers off, too.'

'I most certainly will. But I think I'll leave the stockings; I don't need them. I can use your bra to tie your hands together behind your back.'

'Excuse me?'

'Like this. It's all right. I won't hurt you. See? Now you look even sexier.'

'Maybe I do,' Jem had replied, 'but how am I supposed to eat my sandwiches?'

'Don't worry. I'll feed you. We've got plenty of time, and we won't be disturbed up here. Later on, I've got something else to put in your mouth.'

And so they had spent the afternoon sprawled on a rooftop lawn in the shade of a tree. Jem had been naked except for stockings and suspender belt; Rudi had been fully dressed except for his linen jacket and his unbuttoned flies. After the meal, and after Rudi had spent half an hour lying on his back while Jem had sat squirming on his ceaselessly moving mouth and tongue, Rudi had untied Jem's hands. But he had tied thennagain immediately, using Jem's bra and his tie to bind her wrists to the back of the waistband of his trousers. Then he had sat with his back against the trunk of the tree and had stroked Jem's copper-brown curls while she licked and kissed the prodigious organ that protruded from his flies.

They had stayed like that for hours. Jem was no sexual novice. She had allowed other men to tie her up from time to time, but Rudi's prick was not only big and handsome, it also tasted delicious, and the knowledge that she couldn't escape from this position, that she was constrained to have her face pressed against his hard manhood, only added to her pleasure. The sun had shone endlessly, the bright green leaves had rustled in occasional breezes, the roar of the traffic had been only a muted buzz, and Rudi's hands had roamed across her body, making her shiver with delight when he caressed her breasts or squeezed her nipples. It had been an afternoon to remember, and, in her few moments of coherent thought, Jem had decided that in spite of his personality deficiencies Rudi would be a very satisfactory partner - at least for a few weeks.

At last the shadows had started to lengthen, and Rudi had clearly started to have difficulties controlling himself. Mem,' he had gasped, i can't stand this much longer. You've done this sort of thing before, haven't you? Do you mind awfully if I come in your mouth?'

'Be my guest,' Jem had replied. 'You can do this as often as you like. As long as you tie me up first.'

Which is how I come to be in this fix, Jem, thought. Her reverie was interrupted as Rudi returned, carrying two cameras on tripods. Jem watched him as without a word of explanation he moved the chrome and glass furniture to the edges of the room, leaving Jem and her chair isolated in the centre of the geometrically patterned carpet. He seemed to be avoiding Jem's eyes.

'Rudi,' she said, in as conversational a tone as she could achieve, 'would you like to tell me what's going on? Why are you moving the furniture? Who was that at the door? Why did you turn on the spotlights? And why are you training those goddamned cameras on me, you pervert?'

Rudi concentrated on adjusting the legs of one of the tripods. He frowned, his dark brows almost meeting above his broad nose. Tm sorry, Jem, old thing,' he mumbled, 'but it was sort of your idea. Well, you said you wouldn't mind, anyway. You know, it's dashed difficult talking to you when you're, well, like that.'

'You think it's difficult! I'm the one trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey with boobs and a bottom. Anyway, don't change the subject. Which of the many things that I've said I wouldn't mind are you referring to?'

'You know, the group thing. More than just me and you. You said you wouldn't mind

'I can think of more convenient occasions for you to have sprung this on me, Rudi. Whom have you invited? A football team? And whose idea was it to record our activities on film for posterity?'

Rudi shrugged off his kimono and, with a sudden grace that belied his large frame, dropped to the floor to sit cross-legged in front of Jem. She looked into his dark eyes, uncertain whether she should allow herself the frisson of excitement caused by her inability to prevent him from reaching out and idly caressing her left breast with one of his big, hairy hands. Cursing her lack of self-control she felt her eyes half-closing as the tips of his fingers circled inwards towards the pink button of her nipple. 'We've got to go through with it, Jem,' said Rudi, his voice matching the gentle motions of his hand. 'I owe a favour to this fellow. Business. He put a lot of work my way. Including the Grantham Tower. Also put money into the practice. Loads more where that came from, he says. But he wants a favour in return, and -'

'And you thought I'd do your whoring for you! You shit! If that prick of yours gets any closer, I'll bite it off! Rudi, I never thought -'

'No, Jem, no! You've got the wrong end of the stick. He's not here. It's not him. I get the impression he doesn't need me to pimp for him. No, it's me he wants. I mean, he wants me in photographs. He wants photographs of me doing it. Now do you understand?'

'Not really. Who's our visitor? And where is he?'

in the spare room, changing. And he's a she. Well, you said you'd prefer me and a woman, rather than me and another man.'

'Very considerate of you, Rudi. You don't think it might have been polite to ask me first?'

'You've got gorgeous tits, Jem. Your little nipples have gone all puckered up. Shall I give them a pinch, like that?'

'Ow! Oh, yes, all right. Do it again. Mmmmm. But don't change the subject. Who is this other woman?'

i don't know her. I mean, I do now, of course, because I've just met her. She was found for me by this same, um, business associate. She's very attractive. Look, I really couldn't say no. This chap's got me over a barrel, honest-

iy.'

'And he's got me over your damned chair.'

'I'm sorry I had to get you involved, Jem. But he insisted on photographs of something a bit kinky, and so ...'

'And so you immediately thought of me. Thanks a bunch.'

'The thing is, Jem, nothing turns me on quite as much as seeing you tied up. You're rather special, you know.'

'You mean you weren't confident of your ability to perform for the cameras without me. Well, I suppose I should be flattered. But just a minute. You said a bit kinky. How kinky, Rudi?'

'Ah. Well now. I - Oh. Here she comes.'

Jem heard the sound of the door opening,and heels tapping unsteadily towards the carpet. She turned her head to see a pair of black leather boots with thin stilettos. The boots, and their criss-cross lacing, continued tightly up a pair of long legs and were attached like stockings to metal clips on the end of chains that stretched tautly from a black leather corset. Large white breasts with wide aureoles were cradled in half-cups at the top of the corset, and the half-cups were supported by four chains that converged on a studded black collar. Above the collar, and framed by blonde hair, a pretty oval face was staring down in wide-eyed astonishment at Jem.

'Jem!' said the pretty oval face.

'Hello, Lesley,' Jem sighed. 'What's a nice girl like you doing in an outfit like that?'

'You two know each other!' Rudi said, but both women ignored him. Lesley was the secretary of the Managing Director of Executive Environments, and Jem was wondering how she could ever show her face in the office again. But then, she thought, I guess Lesley's wondering exactly the same thing.

'Now, Lesley, maybe you'll believe me when I tell you that sometimes I'm all tied up and can't come to the phone,' Jem said. 'What are you doing here, girl? And -perhaps more importantly - why are you carrying that mean-looking piece of wood?'

'I couldn't help it, Miss Darke. I had to come here. There would have been hell to pay if I'd refused. I'm supposed to whack your bottom while you're sucking off this bloke here - if you'll pardon the expression.'

'I see. Rudi, untie me. This has gone far enough. And stop doing that to my nipples. You're quite obviously excited enough already.'

Rudi stood up. Jem felt his fingers trail along her spine and down the exposed cleft of her rear. The boss's secretary can see my arsehole, she thought, moaning and trying vainly to squirm away from the questing fingers.

'I'm awfully sorry, Jem,' Rudi was saying, 'but how was I to know that you and this other girl would know each other? It's just a silly coincidence. But we can't back out now. Can we, Lesley?'

'Not a chance,' Lesley confirmed. 'For one thing, it took ages to get into this leather gear. For another, everyone at work says you like this kind of carry-on anyway. I'm sorry, Miss Darke, but that's what I've heard. But mainly, if I don't do what I'm told this afternoon - Well, I don't like to think about what'll happen to me.'

'And that goes for me too, Jem,' Rudi added. 'And I'd say that I'm not the only one getting a bit excited about this, am I?' *

'Damn you, Rudi, get your fingers out of there. All right.

You win. I'm in no position to stop you, anyway. But no photographs!'

In unison, Rudi and Lesley insisted that the photographs were essential. Each of them, it seemed, had promised to take compromising shots of the other, and both were terrified of the consequences of failing to do so. Jem thought they were both crazy, but didn't try to argue; her neck muscles were beginning to ache again from the efforts of looking up at them. She dropped her head and gazed at the legs - two leather-clad, two naked and hairy - lined up before her.