This was challenging. First, I had a story written; the continuation of "Hanging around", however it was written on Word, so the spellchecker and grammar check were on when it was written. So I wrote a new one, however it ended up being much longer than what is needed; not only that, but it ended up being way to long to be posted, so I'm going to post it in two posts. Even so, it is not finished yet. Hope you like it.
The House
Richard told me to go to The House.
"You need a harsher training than what I can provide" he said.
"But I love you" I answered
"And I love you too. That is why I cannot be as hard on you as you need. So you shall go to Mr. Roderick's house. He will continue your training"
As instructed, I quit my job yesterday. That was easy. Dead end secretarial jobs are a dime a dozen nowadays. I had no significant friends at work, and to them I told them I was going on a long trip to Nepal. I left all my credit cards, checkbook, money and documents on my desk at home. Richard has a key, and he said he would take care of it. I have with me, only what I am wearing, and precious little of that. As instructed, I am wearing a white linen sundress, with spaghetti straps that opens to a flowing knee high skirt that blows about, if there is any breeze. I have high heeled, strappy sandals on my feet. That's it. From the outside, I look like a sofisticated socialite that has somehow forgotten her purse at home. Inside I am nude, open, a slut.
Mr. Roderick's house is within walking distance of mine. It is early in a clear, warm summer morning. I think that I could very well be walking to my doom. No one knows where I am, where I am going, or when to expect me back. I do not know it myself. I could dissappear, like all those girls that I hear about on TV, and no one would even know. I trust Richard, but now, for the first time, I realize I have entrusted my life to him. If he wants me to disappear, so be it. To my surprise I feel moisture down there.
I have never met this Mr. Roderick. Never heard of him actually. Richard never talked about him. Finally, I reach the house .
The house is a 4 story mansion, separated from the street by a small garden. It looks to be about a hundred years old, made of dark red brick, with a mansard roof. I walk up four stairs and, as instructed, knock on the door. After a short time, a man opens it.
"I am Jenny K___"
He looks at me, expressionless. "You are expected, follow me"
I enter the house. It is dark and cool inside. The door opens into a marble floored foyer, with a somber yet expensive decor. A staircase opens to the foyer, as well as two doors on each side. I follow the man up the stairs.
"The girl's quarters are on the second floor. There are 6 rooms. You are assigned room 4." The stairs open to a large, open,square landing, with 6 doors, numbered, along the walls. In the landing there are shelves with books, a refrigerator, and a cabinet with bottles of liquors, glasses and such. Several easy chairs and couches are also spread around what seems to be a combination sitting room and library. The man keeps going up the stairs.
"The playroom is on the third floor. Mr. Roderick likes to torture his girls with good light" I feel a punch to my gut. I almost fall. I grab the railing to steady myself. Of course I will be tortured. Why would Richard have sent me here otherwise. I take a deep breath and continue up the stairs. The landing on the third floor is much smaller. It opens to a single, heavy, oak door. The man opens it. "I will show you the playroom. You will spend a lot of time here."
The door opens to a short, narrow corridor, and then a large salon. Large windows, on the far wall, open to the street outside. On the near wall, 4 small doors open to what I can see are small kennels.
"The windows are triple pannelled and totally soundproof. No one has ever noticed the screaming" He said this so matter of factly that I acknowleged it as if it was an everyday comment, at a social function.
A large columm occupies the center of the room. It appeares to be of marble, and has rings at different heights all around it. I did not need an explanation of its purpose. The floor, dark hardwood, has also rings embedded in it, so that they lie flat on the ground, and do not protrude above the level of the floor. There are pulleys, chains on the roof, on both sides of the columm. On the right wall, a wooden cross. On the left a wooden wheel. On the far corner I see a brazier, with charcoal and ashes in it. It is out now, but has had a fire, sometime ago. Cruel looking irons on the wall. I am shaking violently now. There is no way out. I do not believe the man would let me out, if I tried to run, and he is standing between me and the door.
"You can leave now if you want" He said. "Mr. Roderick will understand"
I look at him. I am shaking, uncontrollably. Tears come, unbidden to my eyes. My mouth is dry, a veritable desert. My other lips, however, are gushing. I can sense my wetness, I feel I can smell myself. I wonder if the man can smell my arousal. I shake my head. "No"
We step back on the landing.
"Mr. Roderick's rooms are on the fourth floor. Under no account shall any of the girls go up to the fourth floor uninvited." A pause " The penalty is termination"
"Termination, with extreme prejudice."
That's exactly what I need, a comedian.
We go back to the second floor, he opens the door to room #4 and lets me in.
"Before I leave you, Do you have any questions?"
Do I have questions; hundreds. What will happen to me? How long will I stay here? Will Richard come? Who are you? Where is Mr. Roderick?
In the end, I ask only one: Who are you?
"I am Mr. Hastings. I am Mr. Roderick's assistant, I manage his household, his staff. I am, if you want his butler, his majordomo. Wait here, someone will come"
He turns and closes the door behind him. I am left in the room, alone.
The room is small, rectangular in shape.
There is a small iron cot in the room. A thin mattress and sheets on it. It does not appear to be too confortable. There is also a chest of drawers and an armoire. Beyond the cot, a small, round bathtub, and an open space, with a hole under it. I've seen the same facilities in the Middle East, I believe it is called a Turkish toilet. You can't sit on it. Only squat. There is no door between the facilities and the room. Obviously there is to be no privacy. On the wall of the toilet, there is a shower; a hose with a nozzle at the end of it comes out from the faucet set low on the wall. I have read enough to know what the nozzle is for.
I notice the floor is tile. The door opens.
A girl comes in. She is nude, except for a red cape, fastened at her neck. She wears stilletto heeled sandals. She smiles at me.
"I am Laurie. I am the senior girl."
Laurie is a redhead, about 5 foot 5; she's got long hair, blue eyes and her breasts seem to be a size B.
She asks me to remove my clothes. I lay my dress on the bed, and take of my sandals. I stand, nude in the middle of the room. She has me go to the toilet stall, and asks me if I need to go. I actually need to, but deny it. She opens the armoire. In it, only a single red cape, like hers, and stiletto sandals, again, just like hers. They are my size. She shows them to me, but tells me not to put them on.
"In your room, you are to remain nude at all times. You only wear clothes outside your room." I nod assent. "The rooms are kept at a pleasant 75 temperature year round. It is now 11. I will come and get you for lunch at noon."
Before she leaves I ask her "Will Mr. Roderick be at lunch? How many girls are here?"
"Mr. Roderick doesn't have lunch with us. Sometimes one of us goes up to the 4th floor to have lunch with him, You probably will meet him tonight. And we are 5 girls here now. The number varies. I've never seen less than 3, and no more than 6. You will meet us all at lunch"
She picks up my clothes and sandals and leaves. There is no handle on the inside of the door. There is a keyhole, but I cannot open it. I do not have the key. I go to the toilet, and find out there is no paper. I use the hose to clean myself. There is some soap on the side, I use that. I open the drawers; they are empty. I sit on the cot and wait. Time drags on, and then the door opens and Laurie comes in. I reach for my cape but she stops me. "Not today, not on your first day; just put on your sandals" I do and follow her.