Chapter 1

In my family, my uncle had always been an enigma. I was told during the Depression, while still a teenager, he had left home and “went on his own”. His rare reappearances, at family funerals and my parent’s marriage were always unexpected. In the pictures of my parents’ wedding, he was fashionably dressed and looked very aristocratic. It was at my mother’s funeral, his sister, that I had first met him. I was eighteen then and with her death I was all that remained of his immediate family. He questioned me regarding my academic status and he had knowledge of my accomplishments in sports. He approved of my plans to pursue a career in business. I had told him I had applied to several schools including Harvard. He informed me of some connections in Cambridge and that he could “make some calls” to possibly speed the process.

Several weeks later I received my acceptance letter from Harvard. He called to congratulate me and said he would provide an allowance while I was at school. My uncle said it was to be for my mother’s memory. This generous income ensured I never lacked for money during the school years. I didn’t see him at the graduation. But, later at the fraternity I found keys to a late-model sports car, clipped to his card in my mailbox. My new car was parked in the street.

I called and profusely thanked him. He laughed and told me to come visit him in New York City. He said he needed to go overseas for a period of time and needed someone to oversee his townhouse. I agreed as I had not made any concrete summer plans. I had a great deal of curiosity regarding my uncle’s life.

It was 1955 and a New England brisk Spring morning. The warm sun hinted at the approaching Summer. Driving south from Boston to New York City I couldn’t resist having the top down. I pushed the new Mercedes 190SEL to the southbound highway’s limits.

Both my parents had been casualties of the war. First, my father had been lost in one of the first B-24 bombing runs over Germany. His body was never recovered. My mother mourned herself to the grave. Her grief was so profound that her will to go on slipped away after the war years. She had been unable to cope in a world without my dad. I had come home from school and found her curled in her bed. I thought she was sleeping until I touched her cold arm. Then I noticed the empty pill bottle on the floor.

There were no sad memories to dwell on today. This spring day was full of endless promise. New vistas were just over the horizon.

It was mid-afternoon when I reached the city and it took another hour to locate the address. It was on a corner in the Upper East Side. The building itself was a brick four story that blended in with the other adjoining structures on the block. The small brass plate on the door read THE MANHATTAN CLUB and then below in smaller print, A GENTLEMEN’S SOCIETY.

I knocked on the the door. A small slot slid open at eye level and two eyes peered out. I held up my uncle’s card. The door opened and the largest man I had ever seen opened the door. The fitted tuxedo he wore didn’t match his fight-battered head. He had cauliflower ears and a nose which had been flattened to his face. He smiled revealing a gap in his front teeth. “Come in. Come in. We “wuz ‘spectin youse” he said with a deep rasp.

He led me across the small lobby and unlocked a inner door.”Dis” room “wuz” built during “probisson”” he informed me.

I entered a dimly lit vast open space. Rows of dimly lit crystal chandeliers receded into the depths of the room. Faint atolls of light showed tables and chairs, A dark carved wood bar was to my right. There was a low murmur of voices. I inhaled an aromatic mixture of tobacco smoke and aged leather. The faint snick of a billiard ball broke the quiet stillness.

I walked across the room to the bar. Several well-dressed men at the corner of the bar acknowledged me. One lifted a glass. I nodded back. I was conscious of my garish Hawaiian shirt which hung loose over my worn khakis. I wished I had worn my suit.

The bartender leaned over the bar and smiled, “The Prince has finally arrived!” He reached under the bar and pressed a release.

“There you go Sir. Take that lift straight up” A door sized panel had opened in the wall past the end of the bar.

He motioned for me to proceed, “You’re expected.”

The elevator rose and I counted three floors. The doors slid open to a tiled foyer. A white haired, distinguished butler was waiting. “Master Jeremy how good to meet you. My name is Jameson,” He was very British. He held out his hand and I shook it.

“Your uncle is occupied at the moment. He has asked me to make you comfortable,” The butler led me to what he called the sitting room.

It reminded me of a high class lobby of a hotel. Sunlit bay windows lined the wall. Plush furniture had been arranged around the deep plush carpeted room. There was a huge television set at the far end of the room. I walked to a bay window and looked out at Central Park.

“Can I get you a refreshment Sir?” Jameson asked.

I turned to him and said black coffee would be fine. He returned with a cup and saucer on a silver tray. I sipped at the coffee and watched the traffic below as the sun set over the city.

Jameson returned announcing. “The master will see you now Sir,”

Jameson led me across the hallway to a richly furnished room. The room was dominated by a massive stone fireplace. Bookcases lined the other paneled walls.

My uncle was seated in a leather chair by the hearth. He rose to greet me. We hugged and he warmly expressed how good it was to see me. He was pleased with my accomplishments. He said he knew my parents would have been proud of me.

We sat by the fire, drank fine whiskey and talked for several hours. We discussed the last war, my parents, Harvard and the impending cold war. I was fascinated to hear another worldview, which was diametrically opposed to what I had read in the paper. He refilled our glasses and told me he needed help from me. He had pressing business in Hong Kong. He needed me to stay at the townhouse and oversee his domestic concerns. I modestly told him I had little actual business acumen, but he waved my protestations aside. He told me it was all very simple. He smiled and said I would find my stay rewarding.

He began telling some of his history. He said at the end of the war he had been with an Allied Forces advanced recon team that had been the first to enter Buchenwald, the notorious Nazi concentration camp.

He rose and used a poker to stir the burning logs.

“While searching the SS Officers’ quarters I came across a young girl, chained by the ankle, in the commandant’s bedroom. She was one of the prettiest children I have ever seen. She, along with her family, had been deported from Italy. They were Jewish you see,” he said turning to look at me.

“Her family were dead by that time, along with hundreds of thousands of others,” he added soberly. “Evidently the camp’s oberfuhrer had been taken with her extraordinary beauty and had pulled her from a group of girl prisoners. She was only nine,” he added.

“He kept her safe and unabused in his compartments for nearly a year. He probably had plans to groom her as a future mistress,” he mused.

He sat down.

“I used my various connections and got her out of Europe and brought her back here to the States. The situation in Italy was utter chaos at that time. Since then I have had reputable sources look for any family left there. She is most definitely an orphan. She has lived with me in this house these past years,” he said.

“Her war experiences left her traumatized. I have had one the best psychologists in the city here to treat her. She no longer suffers from nightmares. But, we were unable to cure her anxiety regarding leaving this building. It has become a safe refuge for her. Crowds of unfamiliar faces and the loud noises of the city panic her.” He said.

“It has been very important to me that she would get the best of culture and education,’ he stated.

“I have had private tutors come here. She has been educated to a college scholar’s standing,” he said proudly.

He paused in thought

“She has a uncommonly brilliant mind,” he added.

“Now Jeremy what I have to say now may offend your modern sensibilities,” he sat back in the chair and looked at the fire.

“I am a man of particular old world tastes. I don’t belong in this modern age. I believe that if a man has the power to rule his world than he should do it by all means. To rule with all the fierceness and will he possesses,” his voice rose and had grown passionate.

He turned to look at me, “I had her come to my bed when she was thirteen.”

He watched my face and when I didn’t react he sat back.

“You know it wasn’t until the past few centuries that a girl her age wasn’t considered marriageable in most civilized cultures. I bear no remorse or guilt for my actions.”

I had been silently taken aback at his words. I hadn’t imagined my beloved uncle as a man capable of a molesting a child. I decided to listen more and withhold my judgment.

“Along with her formal education, I have also had her trained in ways society wouldn’t approve. I have had specialized teachers to come here and educate her in special skills.

“She completely belongs to me, Jeremy. Understand me when I say belong. I mean own as a possession,” he said flatly.

“She has been trained to serve me and bring me pleasure,”

“She understands and accepts this relationship.”

He paused.”Well until recently. She turned seventeen this year and has become rebellious. It is maddening, but she can also be exhilarating,” he smiled.

He looked at the now empty decanter on the table between us.

“Let me introduce you to Leah,” he said.

Next to his chair a tasseled cord dangled from the ceiling. He reached over and pulled it. I heard a faint bell.

“One for Leah. Two for Jameson” he informed me.

I heard a distant chime. Minutes passed and no one came.

“Leah has been apprehensive since she heard of your arrival,” my uncle commented.

He leaned forward to the coffee table at our feet. He used a key to unlock a cabinet under the top.

He raised his voice, directing it toward a closed side door. “I do have another way to fetch her”.

“No!” A female voice protested from behind the closed door.

My uncle shook his head. “I apologize. She is not happy with my new choice of dress for her introduction to you. She felt she should dress formally. I maintained she would dress in a manner reflecting her position. I recently had to implement a crude means of enforcing my expectations”.

He fully opened the cabinet door and motioned for me to come closer. I leaned forward in my chair. Hidden within was a blinking electronic apparatus.

“This equipment was made for me by a former German scientist now working for the US government rocket program. He felt he owed me his life,” my uncle added.

He flicked a toggle switch and there was an immediate electronic hum, the panel glowed and several glass enclosed needles pegged across clock-like dials then settled at different readings.

“This controls the amount of voltage,” he instructed. He turned a large knurled knob and the hum changed tone as the meter’s needles flicked across the dials.

“This entire building is enclosed in an electronic field,” he waved his hand around.

I was puzzled by where this was all going, but I nodded as if I understood.

“This button releases the shock. This is low level,” he said simply as he pressed a red button.

Immediately there was a high-pitched squeal from the other room.

“Leah, come ... now” my uncle said sternly.

I was taken aback by the appearance of a beautiful young woman emerging from the hall. Her dark green eyes glared angrily at my uncle as she vigorously crossed the floor to stand before us. I just gawked. She was the most stunning girl I had ever seen.

She was dressed in a classic French maid’s uniform tailored to her body and my uncle’s tastes. The uniform was cut in a fashion that any housekeeping duties beyond the bedroom impossible. The tightly laced and ribbed corset amply displayed her large youthfully firm breasts. The frilly lace decollete across the deep cleavage only just covered the brown of her aureoles. Lacy garters attached to her black fishnet stockings were visible at the hem of her very short silk skirt. In her high heels she stood at about five feet, four inches.