One Week in the Private House (28 page)

'Miss?'

Jem turned in the doorway. 'Yes, Maxine?'

Thank you for tying me up, Miss. I've enjoyed it, especially as it's you that's done it, and I'm very grateful to you for trying to protect me from the Master.'

'But?'

'But he'll punish me anyway, Miss, for letting you go.' Maxine started to sob quietly, the heaving of her lungs creating no discernible movement of her tightly-bound backside.

Jem returned to the table, and ran her fingers round the bulbous edges of Maxine's squashed breasts. The maid was completely helpless, unable to move an inch. Jem realised that she could do anything to the girl. Power corrupts, and

it feels kind of good, she thought. She made a ball of tightly-wound ribbon, grabbed Maxine's hair, pulled up her head, and pushed the home-made gag into her mouth. She wound more ribbon round the lower half of the girl's face. 'Still breathe OK?' she said. Maxine nodded.

'I really have to go now, Maxine. I'd love to stay here and play, but I just can't. I'm relying on you to tell a good story, child, so you just make sure the Master hasn't got any good reason to punish you. Come and see me again this evening. If you've got stripes on that gorgeous butt, I promise you I'll count them and give you twice as many on your breasts, you understand? So you tell a good story.'

Jem stopped in the doorway for one final glance at the trussed maid, who was gazing at her with adoring eyes; then she fled.

The note must have been pushed under the door: Julia knew that she hadn't left or dropped the folded paper at the bottom of her locker. She unfolded it.

Dear Julia

I just loved what you did to Goltz. You're terrific, and if you want to get some extra practice any time, I'll be your sparring partner. You can throw me and knock me over as often as you like. I wont mind. In fact, I'd love it. You can sit on top of me and grind your knees into my muscles and twist my legs and anything painful you want to do. Afterwards I'll lick all the sweat off your body and then I'll beg your permission to let me lick every little bit between your legs and right inside you as far as my tongue will reach.

That was all. The note was unsigned. Julia was unsure whether she should feel honoured or uneasy. She was still trying to work out which of her fellow trainees might be her unusual admirer when the tall figure of Ruby, a willowy black girl, entered the locker room.

'Hello, Ruby,' Julia said, distractedly. 'It looks as though the weather's changed for the worse.'

'Julia. I'm glad I've found you alone.' Julia looked up to see Ruby staring at her; then, as if she had reached a difficult decision, the tall girl marched towards Julia and stood beside her, looking down into her face with troubled, searching eyes. Ruby's small round breasts were rising and falling rapidly beneath her thin cotton sports vest. She put an arm round Julia's waist and pulled her close.

'Ruby!' Julia spluttered, laughing and enjoying the soft full lips that the black girl pressed against hers. 'What's going on? My dear, this is so sudden!'

'The whole class is in love with you, Julia, don't tell me you don't know that. It's just that I'm the only one with the guts to tell you. The way you fixed that bitch Goltz -we all think you're the greatest.'

Julia was perplexed, amazed, almost speechless, but also rather pleased. 'Gosh, Ruby. I don't know what to say ...' She looked up into the other woman's almond-shaped eyes.

'Just tell me one thing, Julia,' Ruby said very quietly. 'Do you ever feel naughty? I mean, as if you think you need a little corrective treatment?'

Julia felt a shiver travel down her spine, and it wasn't simply because Ruby had slipped her hand under the skirt of Julia's tunic and was dragging her fingernails across Julia's left buttock.

'Oh, Ruby ...' Julia pressed her body against Ruby's wiry frame and waited for the inevitable. A loud smack echoed in the locker room, and a fiery glow spread across Julia's bottom.

'If I had your arse to play with,' Ruby whispered, 'I would never spank anyone else ever again. I swear it, lover.' She tried to turn Julia in order to strike the other cheek.

Julia pulled away. 'Stop it, Ruby, please. You're very sweet, and I'm dreadfully flattered, but I just can't be yours.'

Ruby's eyes narrowed. 'You chasing after that new woman of the Master's? He won't let you have her. And she won't stick around' any longer than any of the others. And she won't smack your bottom like I can.'

Julia had a momentary vision of herself upended across Jem's lap, and decided that she liked the idea, it's not anything to do with Jem, Ruby,' she lied.

i want you so bad, Julia you little slut.' Ruby was quivering with emotion. 'And you're trying to make an idiot out of me. I won't come begging, Julia, I won't. I'm just telling you, you'll be my naughty girl and no one else's.'

Julia stood on tiptoe and kissed Ruby's cheek. 'Don't be silly, Ruby. I'm too old for you, for one thing. You'd wear me out! And if it's true that everyone in the class wants me, just think how unpopular we'd be if I were to become your own naughty little girl.'

Ruby's face softened, and her hand stole back to fondle Julia's bottom, i suppose you're right,' she said.

'Of course I'm right,' Julia said, resting her head between Ruby's firm breasts. 'You've got a room in one of the Mill buildings, haven't you? Down by the stream?'

'That's right,' Ruby murmured, her fingers tugging at the tiny curls in the cleft between Julia's buttocks.

Julia moaned, and pressed her face into Ruby's right breast. 'Here's a promise,' she said, pulling Ruby's face to hers. 'Before I leave the Private House, I'll come and be naughty for you in your room at the Mill.'

Ruby smiled triumphantly, turned and strode away.

But before then, Julia thought, I'll be naughty for Jem as often as she wants me to be. I hope she wants to be naughty for me too.

A note pinned to the noticeboard had ordered all first-level trainees to report to Lecture Room 5. When Julia arrived she found that her classmates had already filled the tiers of seats: she was confronted by a phalanx of black leather tunics. Fraser and Lawrence were jostling for a space next to one of the few empty seats, and both were frantically gesturing to her to join them. Along the back row Ruby, Manfred and Violet - the latter licking her lips and kneading her leather-encased breasts - were trying to catch Julia's eye and shuffling to make room for her to sit
next
to each of them. Julia smiled at everyone and sat in a vacant seat in the front row; after a couple of seconds she gently removed from her thigh the hand of Imogen, the Nordic beauty who was sitting beside her and gazing fixedly at the roller blackboard behind the lecturer's desk.

Instructor Dawkin, a buxom brunette in a brief white lab coat, entered the room and waited for silence to assert itself, in view of the continuing absence of Instructor Goltz,' she began and waited until the cheers and whistles had subsided, 'unarmed combat training has been postponed. Instead I will instruct you in the use of the electronic contact weapon known as the buzzer. This is part of your standard equipment. Are you all in full uniform? Good. Then each of you should find a heavy cube in a black plastic case attached to the left-hand side of your belt, or the right side if you're left-handed. This is your buzzer's power pack.

Julia's left hand dropped automatically to the black box, and she looked up to see that the Instructor had placed a similar box on the desk.

'You will see,' Dawkin said, 'that on top of the cube there are three buttons - green, white and red - and two small warning lights, neither of which should be glowing at the moment. The green button is for use when recharging the power supply, a procedure that I'll describe later. The white button tests the power level. Would you all press it now, please.'

Julia pressed the white button on the box at her side. One of the lights glowed amber, if the warning light flickers or, worse still, fails to light altogether, your power pack needs recharging or may be defective. You must use the white button to test your power pack each time you put on your belt and each time you go on duty. Report a low charge level immediately. I hope that all of you have fully charged packs at the moment.'

There were murmurs of assent. 'Oh good,' Instructor Dawkin said, smiling atjast. She moved to the side of the desk and leant against it so that her hip strained against the thin white cotton fabric. The class fell silent. Julia smiled, charmed and impressed by this novel method of classroom control.

'Now,' Dawkin continued, 'press the white button again to end the test, and then press the red button.'

After a brief frenzy of button-pushing, the room fell silent. Instructor Dawkin tilted her head, her eyes questioning. In her hand she held the thin cylinder of a buzzer, connected by a thin flex to the box on the desk. And on the box, the red warning light was glowing brightly.

A crescendo of baffled complaints arose throughout the room: not one of the trainees had a power pack with a glowing red light.

'The red light indicates that the buzzer is working,' Dawkin announced smugly. 'But your buzzer won't work while it's in its holster. We call this a safety measure. You have all failed to turn your buzzers on and - wait for it, you eager ones at the back - before you turn them on, you need to know how to handle your buzzers. Now concentrate: look at the position of the holster on your belt.'

Julia tore her gaze from the Instructor's pretty blue eyes that were so much like Jem's and removed Imogen's hand, which had returned to her thigh and had started to slide under the skirt of her tunic. She looked down at her belt.

'In front of your pistol holster you
'll
find a long, thin pouch of black leather,' Dawkin said. 'This is your buzzer holster. You'll see a hard cylinder, about two centimetres in diameter and covered with black leather, protruding upwards out of the holster. That is the handle bf your buzzer. Has everyone located it?'

There were murmurs of assent. 'Good. Now, don't touch the red button on your power pack; just hold your buzzer by its handle and pull it upwards out of its holster.'

Julia joined the chorus of surprised exclamations: the lower half of the buzzer, contained within the holster, was bright red. The buzzer remained connected to the belt by a thin flex that unreeled as the cylinder was pulled away from its holster.

'The red part of the buzzer is the business end,' Dawkin said.
'Don
't ever touch it.
And
now, holding your buzzer
only by the black handle, press the red button on your power pack.'

This time every red light in the room came alight. 'Your buzzer is now ready to operate,' Dawkin said, stifling a feigned yawn. Tt will discharge electric current when touched against an earthed object or person. And now to demonstrate the various ways in which the buzzer can be used, I need a willing assistant. This is where the fun starts,' she nodded with a wide smile and a glance that swept across the class. 'Perhaps you'd all like to elect someone?'

Julia's heart sank. There were times when she was sure she preferred anonymity to celebrity. She had a strong suspicion that she would be the unanimous choice of her classmates, and her worst fears were immediately realised as the whispers of her name united and expanded into a rhythmic chant of 'Ju-lia, Ju-lia!'

Once again she lifted Imogen's hand from her thigh; she stood, turned, bowed to the class, glanced at Dawkin to make sure that the Instructor had taken note of Julia's most fetching aspect, and stepped on to the dais. Dawkin extended a hand, pulled Julia towards her, and to the cheers of the class pressed her lips to Julia's mouth. The Instructor had noticed Julia's cheeky bow: behind Julia's back, out of sight of the trainees, Dawkin's palm cupped Julia's left buttock and squeezed it affectionately. Julia made the quietest of moans, and pushed her tongue into Dawkin's mouth. Simultaneously they began to laugh, and the Instructor pulled her face away. 'I was hoping they'd choose you,' she said, giving Julia a final hug. 'You've got the prettiest arse in the whole of the Security Corps, and I've heard so much about you.'

The Instructor turned to face the class. 'Well!' she said, her eyes sparkling. 'I'm not surprised you chose Julia, I must say. No doubt you're all keen to see her being thoroughly buzzed.' There was prolonged shouting and cheering. 'In that case I'ip going to disappoint you,' Dawkin said at last. 'Julia will be Chief Buzzer. And now I'd like a few volunteers to be her victims.'

There was a second of silence, and then hands and voices were hurled into the air as if every trainee in the room had just scored a winning goal. Ignoring the hubbub, Dawkin turned to Julia with her eyes wide in mock-surprise. Julia smiled happily and could only shrug.

After several minutes of commotion Dawkin selected Manfred and Vicki, who were making the most noise, and Imogen, perhaps because she remained so perversely silent and stared at Julia as if the intensity of the pale blue light in her eyes could start a bush fire between Julia's thighs.

The chosen three left their seats and formed a line on the dais: Vicki, small and vivacious, with brown ringlets and irrepressible giggles; Manfred, tall and burly, a comic-book superhero in cinched tunic over rippling muscles, with a bristling moustache, a face red with excitement, and an unmissable bulge contained in the black gauze pouch beneath the inverted V of his tunic front; and Imogen, with her pale skin, blue eyes, and fringe of white-blonde hair, still and emotionless except for the rapid rise and fall of her substantial bosom beneath its covering of soft, taut leather.