Chapter 5: A Journey down South

Sixteen panes of glass belonging to an old hothouse on the grounds lay shattered on the grass. A huge branch from a nearby tree had fallen down in the night. The rainstorm had finished what the rot had started.

Niamh did her best to rake the remains of the panes into a neat pile, but the soft soil was peppered with nasty-looking shards that literally dug themselves into the ground. Her choice of footwear didn’t exactly make thing easier either. She had borrowed a pair of proper wellingtons from Alex, which seemed to be a good idea until Niamh realised that all she would need now to cross the pond would be a pair of oars.

A sharp whistle from the old back road made her look up and wobble a bit. Alex was walking briskly toward the salvage operation, still in her riding clothes after her regular two-hour bout with the horse known to Niamh as Harry Three Legs from the neighbouring farm.

‘I pay people to do that for me, sweetie.’ Alex hooted. ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting that bored already.’

‘No, but I admit it would be more fun to watch you trying to squeeze the hell out of that farting oat burner just to make him jump a molehill.’

‘I told you that it was a gentlewoman’s agreement.’ Alex offered Niamh her hand to avoid any stumbling accidents. ‘I just couldn’t say no to their daughter.’

‘Riding that sack of hay must be like waltzing in these size 13 pontoons, but there’s no doubt he needs the bloody exercise.’

‘If you want to, I suppose we can arrange something.’ Alex chuckled. ‘Even if you seem to have some issues with horses.’

‘He bit me.’

‘Come on in now. I have some plans for Friday I’d like to discuss with you. And I haven’t eaten since breakfast.’

* * *

Half an hour later Niamh tapped on the laptop keyboard with a chewed-up pencil with a bewildered look on her face.

‘They all look fantastic.’ She took a quick sip of cooling coffee. ‘But they don’t really say how much you have to pay for... I mean, this must add up to more than a grand altogether.’

Alex leaned over her shoulder and sighed, letting a couple of fingers slip under her hair in the back of her neck. Niamh bit her lip and gave a slight shudder.

‘And you don’t think it’s worth that much­­? That you’re not worth spending a few bob on... Or what?’ Alex murmured, drifting into a disconcertingly low voice. Niamh carefully showed that she didn’t know what to say and the fingers soothingly stroked the back of her neck. ‘I would say that it was about time we ordered some goodies. I really feel like spending some of the cash I... No, we brought home last month. Spoiling us both a bit. And this is just skimming it.’

Skimming. Well, Niamh thought, that was a good way to put it.

Moving the cursor back and forth among the images and bits and pieces of information on the screen, Niamh closely examined what Alex had decided to buy. The owners had put some effort in making it look really classy. The merchandise didn’t seem too shoddy either, she thought. As the thumbnails enlarged when she moved the arrow across them, she could easily imagine how the garb would feel to wear. Especially the sparkling midnight metallic black bodysuit cut in a very interesting way... Or the tights with likewise interesting features. There was so much to get excited about.

‘But it really feels like it’s a bit too much...’ Niamh murmured. ‘Though this is something I’d never have a chance to do, or even want to do...’

‘On your own?’ Alex crushed a cardamom seed with her teeth, sounding rather pleased. ‘One of the central tenets in my philosophy is to get it while you can. There are a few strings attached to this since I always expect something in return.’

‘I figured that would be the case, Alex.’

‘It won’t hurt much, and you’ll get used to it in no time.’ Alex laughed at the look she got from Niamh. ‘Anyway, did I tell you how I got to know the couple running this little business?’

* * *

Instead of trying to get there as fast as possible, they started early, kept to the B-roads and avoided the Bank Holiday traffic on their way south. Alex, who seemed unusually relaxed, kept talking about this and that and showed Niamh houses belonging to the Landmark Trust and other quite beautiful places along the way, just like an expert tour guide.

Niamh tried to stem the flow by narrowing in on the fact that the pubs were getting scarcer by the hour nowadays, but quickly ended up in a discussion about running one.

‘I think it would be nice to have a place like that;’ Alex said, pointing over her shoulder towards a brick house quickly disappearing behind them. ‘but I wonder how I’d be getting along with the guests? I mean, the tourists...’

‘Not a problem.’ Niamh sniggered. ‘It’s all a matter of making your establishment reflect who you are, and then the right customer clientele will present itself. This is part of what I do, in case you forgot...’

‘That did sound a bit oddish, if you don’t mind me saying that.’

‘No, look...’ Niamh twiddled with her sunglasses, suddenly becoming really animated. ‘I even got a name for your place already.’

‘Dare I ask?’

‘The Ball Gag and Dildo.’

‘I think I’ll have a word with Theresa when we get there. I think I’ll have to add some really painful restraints to our order. We’re turning left here and then we only have a few miles left. What time is it?’

‘Eleven forty. Wasn’t it a good suggestion, then? The name, I mean?’

‘So good that I wonder why it isn’t already taken.’

* * *

There was really nothing special about the place, Niamh thought as they were idling down the last few yards of the road leading to an old barn that had been rebuilt, and it looked just like any other piece of gentrified land. She blamed herself for expecting something perhaps a bit more shonky or maybe just different from any of these postcard scenery places. Why should it be? Nice and private, no ad costs since sheep were even less into reading than their owners and whatnot.

A fairly short and stocky girl with a face looking almost cartoonishly healthy welcomed them and offered tea and sandwiches right away. Alex answered Niamh’s tacit question after getting out of the car.

‘No, this isn’t standard guestomer procedure. This isn’t any real retail shop either; as you might have noticed.’ Alex jingled her keys. ‘I don’t think there are too many of their punters who actually come here to place an order or pick something up. I do, when I get the chance.’

‘Friends of yours, weren’t they?’

‘I’d like to see it that way. Besides, I think it’s just good fun to come here and look at all their work. It’s art, pretty much all of it.’ There was a muffled cough, and Alex whispered between her teeth. ‘And they can be very entertaining as well. Wait till you get to know Ms. Hospitable a little closer.’

* * *

‘What d’you think of it? Quite something, innit?’ Theresa burbled, dropping the fag end in her tin mug.

Niamh tried to look a little less like the proverbial Charlie in the chocolate factory, but she couldn’t keep herself from touching the goods displayed on the racks. The smell in here was a lot more tantalizing than in the workshop, and the look of the finished creations made her mind race uncontrollably.

‘Oh yeah.’ she answered dreamily. ‘I only wish I could trade all my dust-bunnies in for dosh.’

Theresa guffawed and snorted loudly, like there was something unusually funny about the statement. She didn’t sound mean, though.

‘You wouldn’t believe if I told you- and I can’t since you know how things must be if we want to stay in business, mind- who I get orders from. Heavens, what they’re willing to pay to get...’

Niamh watched her trying to take a sip from the mug, and suddenly remember what was in it.

‘Bugger.’ Theresa emptied the mug in the sink behind her. ‘I’ve done a lot like that lately. Say...’

‘Yeah?’

‘You haven’t seen André’s little den yet. Upstairs. There, you got the real hardcore stuff if you would like to have a look at that as well.’

Niamh searched Theresa’s face. She recognized that knowing look, but couldn’t figure out if she was going all transparent again.

‘You sure that’s cool with André? I mean...’

‘He won’t bother if we leave things be. Come on.’

On top of the narrow stairs was a small door leading into a furnished attic. The door looked solid, and modern Chubb locks were fitted into it. Theresa led the way into the dimly lit room, fumbling for the light switch.

‘There we go.’

The place had a more secret feel to it than the stockroom downstairs, and Niamh felt a thrill as she discovered what André was working with. There was a lot of dangerous-looking metal gear lying around. Some of it she couldn’t even figure out how to use, but she definitely recognized the bondage stuff. There was simply no mistake about it.

‘He had me trying out the leg spreaders over there a while ago, just for a laugh,’ Theresa added matter-of-factly, ‘but the bastard “lost” the key the moment I had to go to the bog.’

‘But I thought he was...’

‘It was nothing like that, love. We love to piss about like that every once in a while. Gets a bit boring down here sometimes, y’know...’ Theresa giggled. ‘But you have a dirty mind. I like that.’

No problem telling that, Niamh thought. She would probably glow in the dark if the light was turned off again, considering how much she radiated with excitement. She tested a pair of cuffs she fancied, and meant to ask about a viciously designed strappado hanging from a joist when she caught sight of some things in the far end of the attic that made her freeze for a moment.

Two straitjackets made out of really heavy-looking black rubber hung next to what looked like a huge dark cocoon, a big rubber sack with broad straps all over it, on the wall. Beside it was a bizarre piece of furniture resembling a dental chair, and an imposing array of bladders, corrugated tubes and what looked like ambu-bags surrounded it.

‘Oh, fucking hell...’

‘Go have a closer look, won’t you. There you got his really special stuff.’

She didn’t really dare to mess with any of the gear, but Theresa was more than willing to give a helping hand. To leave things be was obviously not a top priority any longer. Down came one of the straitjackets, and within a minute Niamh knew how to put it on right.

‘Would you like to try it?’  Theresa asked cheerfully. ‘Keep your shirt on, just sling your arms...in...here.’

Niamh felt a little embarrassed, but she didn’t have a chance to object until the broad zipper was pulled up her back. It instantly weighed her down.

‘Shit, it’s really heavy.’

‘You can imagine how it’s like when you get your arms strapped round your waist and those crotch thingies pulled between your bum cheeks.’

‘I’ll pass on those, please.’

Both laughed a little when Niamh flapped her arms around like a bat. It didn’t feel too strange to wear it like this, she thought, but it was probably a good idea not to...

‘Oh, what the hell. Fix me up.’

‘Certainly!’ Theresa’s face shone like an afternoon sun. ‘Arms crossed, please.’

Deft fingers buckled the straps behind her back, and she grinned at the trousers pinching her when the crotch piece was firmly pulled into place and secured. Obviously, it wasn’t the first time Theresa had done this. The feel and the smell of it were quite a bit different from what she was used to, but it was nevertheless exciting. There was a distinct tingle in a certain place, and she hoped it wouldn’t show too much. She tried to move around, but her upper half was nearly immobilized. Swaying lightly, toddling towards the strange chair, Niamh tried to adjust herself to the restraints.

‘Not really your size, love, but I think...’ Again, Theresa burst out giggling. ‘Oh, mind your head. How does it feel?’

‘Fine. I’m glad you didn’t stuff me in that body bag up there, though.’

‘That’s something entirely different. Haven’t tried it, but fancy getting strapped down on a gurney or hoisted up on the wall in one of those.’

‘Wooh.’

‘For hours. Of course, I wouldn’t mind stringing the landlord up for a while. Up here, during daytime. Gets a bit hot, you know.’

‘I see.’

Niamh nearly stumbled over a large metal suitcase on the floor. She sidled past it and sat down in the chair. Normally, she wouldn’t have taken any notice at all, but she had a hunch that there might be something interesting inside it. Why would it be here if there wasn’t? She leaned forward to look closer and Theresa caught on immediately.

‘Ah, there’s something you’ve got to see. Really wicked stuff.’

Niamh began to say something, but Theresa had already flipped the case open. The light fell on a set of instruments neatly fitted into the grey Styrofoam lining. Niamh noticed a pressure gauge, a couple of valves and a weird set of tubing rolled up in the lower half.

‘It’s quite a funny device, this.’ Theresa smiled, looking steadily at Niamh. ‘Basically it works like this. Compressed air goes in here, passing through these, and goes out here. Into...this.’

She dug out a black surgical face mask attached to the end of the corrugated tube and wiggled it playfully in front of Niamh,

‘The trick is that you can use this little kit to restrict or mix stuff into the air. André’s friends are in favour of poppers and stuff like that. I think I can still smell some.’ Theresa puckered her nose up. ‘Phew.’

‘Shouldn’t we...I mean if someone...’ Niamh started to fidget nervously in her seat, but realised that Theresa was way past the point of fine hints when she resolutely pulled out a yellow air cylinder from under the chair and connected the feeder tube to the device. There was a sinister hissing noise as she opened the primary valve.

‘Let’s have a quick test, yeah? It won’t hurt.’

Dumbfounded, suddenly feeling very exposed, Niamh just stared questioningly at Theresa as she untangled the headpiece straps to the mask and let it slip onto Niamh’s face. Her spontaneous reaction was to try to shake it off, but it was held in place until she took her first tentative breath.

Niamh gave a muffled curse, and relaxed. She could breathe without problems, and the smell of medical rubber didn’t exactly put her off. The hissing grew and subsided as she inhaled and exhaled rhythmically a few times just to make sure that everything was all right.

She was surprised to see Theresa watching her with a totally captivated look on her face. Seeing her getting turned on by this only made it harder to act impassive. Niamh felt fingertips touching her shoulder through the thick rubber.

‘You really like this, don’t you?’ Theresa whispered. She sounded both delighted and warily surprised. ‘God, if I could take a picture of you right now.’

Niamh tilted her head and gave her a don’t-even-think-of-it glare. She wasn’t going to let things totally out of hand, and was prepared to kick Theresa where it hurt if she tried anything funny. Luckily, she seemed happy just to mess around with her in this way, which Niamh didn’t mind at all. Her heart thumped fervently in her chest, and she floated away momentarily savouring the sensation of being restrained in this way. She closed her eyes and thought she could hear Theresa’s heavy breathing over the intermittent hissing from the device, and hoped that she would be allowed to stay like this for at least a minute longer.

She felt a slight tugging at the tube, and blinked at Theresa playing with it. Niamh noticed that she was also fiddling with the mixer valves.

‘You know, I sort of wondered myself what you could do with this thing when André brought it here.’ she said, slowly turning a switch. ‘They have this fifty-fifty blend of nitrous oxide and oxygen in the hospitals they give to girls giving birth- I’ve tried it- and I thought about having a bottle of that stuff hooked up to this. Or maybe something else with a little oomph.’

Niamh felt how the air flow was reduced. Theresa was still keeping her finger on the mixer valve, pushing it slightly lower as she continued.

‘It would’ve been wicked if I could have tried that on you right now.’

No shit, Sherlock. Niamh thought as the mask squeezed tighter to her face. Right now she was willing to try almost anything, and she could vividly imagine getting a treatment like that.  What was supposed to sound as a protest turned into a feeble moan when Theresa kept playing with the air flow, turning it up a bit just for a few moments and then quickly restricting it again. It didn’t help that she was really losing herself to that little voice in her head that kept telling her not to be afraid to push things a little further. She tried to focus on how hurt Alex would be, and what she probably would do to them both using proper power tools.

Niamh frowned as the air flow was cut off. She grunted loudly, and the mask was carefully lifted off her face. She peered into a pair of eyes, all aglow with sheer excitement.

‘Thanks for letting me fantasize a bit. Hope you didn’t mind.’

‘No..’ Niamh cleared he throat and shrugged a little. ‘No, why should I? What bugs me is how easy people read me.’

‘But I’d never have guessed.’ Theresa blushed deeply. ‘Actually, I was...’

‘Come on. So you knew I would, you know...? How?’

‘Alex sort of let on to me what you were into. A wee bit. I just couldn’t resist.’

Niamh laughed a little sardonically.

‘Oh, yeah. And she’s known you for a while, eh? Well, we just passed the test. This was a new one, though, at least for me.’ She pulled her restraints a little. Theresa got the point and started undoing the buckles.

‘You’re not cross with me or anything?’

Niamh pulled herself free and stretched her arms. She knew the twists and turns good enough to play along. If Alex had suspected that she would try something less desired, she would have been standing on top of the stairs from the start.

‘No, of course not.’ she said in a sweet voice. ‘It was really fun to try this gear. Wouldn’t have touched it if I didn’t like it.’ True.

 ‘I’m glad you did.’

Theresa seemed relieved, albeit still seriously affected. Niamh decided to toss the dice. She got to her feet and smacked a really wet kiss right in Theresa’s face.

‘I’ll tell you what.’ she cooed. ‘Get hold of the stuff you need to get the kit together, it would be grand if you could make it before you’re done with Alex’ order, and then I’ll talk her into coming here to pick it up. You know, fitting and altering and all. That’s the way it goes, yeah?’

‘Yeah?’

Got you, Niamh thought contentedly.

‘Then, perhaps...’ she nearly whispered, gently touching Theresa’s arm, ‘We could put on a little show, you and me. Letting her watch.’

Theresa looked stunned, her eyes wandering from the suitcase to Niamh and back again.

‘You’re bloody serious about this, aren’t you?’

‘As long as...’ Niamh bit her tongue. This was going to be fun. ‘As long as you play it safe. It doesn’t even have to be real gas- at least nothing that we actually might fuck up.’

‘All right, no worries.’

‘Then I’ll leave the rest to you.’

Getting the cogwheels in that little perverted mind rolling was obviously very easy, but Niamh wondered if Alex already had predicted this move. It didn’t really matter after all. There was something in it for them both, even if she had. She couldn’t resist a good ruse, that much was true.

Feeling somewhat inebriated, Niamh took Theresa by the arm as they headed for the door.

‘You haven’t got any kind of bondage suits where you have access to you-know-what? One of those would be really cool to wear...’

15.05.10