Chapter 7

It was like I'd been punched in the stomach. Of all the things Josephine could have said, I wasn't expecting that. My jaw dropped and for a moment I was practically speechless as I lay on my back on her bed. All I could do was mumble an apology as I scrambled to my feet, telling her I really had to get going.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked. It hadn't seemed to register with her that I might think she and Sylvia being sisters was strange. Frankly, that suited me fine. Zipping up my pants and reaching for my shirt, I was thinking all this talk about honesty was hogwash.

"You did fine," I reassured her. "Get under the covers. Don't catch a cold." I kissed her forehead and tucked her in, then stood again to retrieve my tie. I wound it around my neck and struggled to knot it. She looked up at me from her pillow and asked if she could see me again before the party. "I'm going to be pretty busy," I replied, feeling a bit guilty. Her pout seemed so genuine I almost hesitated. Instead, I decided to see what she knew. "I work with her, you know."

"Who?"

"Sylvia. We work at the same office."

"It's a small world, Sir."

"Have you heard about any of the trouble she's in?" I asked, immediately reminding myself that I would make a terrible detective.

She leaned up on her elbow, a concerned look overtaking the pout she had been wearing. "She's in trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"Well, I'm not sure," I said, playing for time. "She's been acting strangely lately."

The look of concern on Josephine's face disappeared as quickly as it came. "She's a strange person. And from what I've heard, she drinks too much."

"She'll be coming tomorrow night."

Josephine rolled her eyes and fell back onto her pillow, turning sideways and pulling the covers up under her chin. "Oh. Well, no wonder she's been acting strangely. A lot of demons are being resurrected, Sir."

"Demons?"

"Sylvia would not be going to the Domina Flagrante unless she had to."

That might explain the confrontation we had in my office. I would have been suspicious too. I put on my jacket and adjusted the sleeves of my shirt under it. As casually as I could muster, I asked, "Does Chantelle know Sylvia?"

"Oh yeah," Josephine sighed in resignation.

"And she knows you are Sylvia Harper's sister?"

"Yes. Of course, Sir. Why? What's wrong?"

My mind was awhirl. What indeed? There was no way Chantelle could have forgotten to tell me. "She just hadn't mentioned it, that's all."

"Chantelle plays her cards close to her chest, Sir. I wouldn't worry about it. And anyway, they're not exactly on speaking terms."

I could hardly think straight. "I'm not sure if I understand."

"Well, there's a bit of history there, Sir," she said, leaning up on her elbow. "They were lovers."

"No way. So, the plot thickens," I said, sitting on the side of the bed and listening.

"They very close in school, but had some kind of falling out. I was only a kid back then, but I remember Chantelle being there one day and disappearing the next. Then about five years ago when I told Sylvia I was joining the BDSM lifestyle, she tried to talk me out of it. She told me I would turn out just like Chantelle, a sad and confused old lesbian, living in a fantasy world."

"The Domina Flagrante is no fantasy."

Josephine shook her head before continuing. "Apparently they broke up over Chantelle's desire for them to join the lifestyle. My sister wanted nothing to do with it and they went their separate ways. Anyway, Sylvia was always very protective of me, and when I told her I thought I was submissive and wanted to know if she knew anything about it, she started going on and on about how unnatural it was, that slavery was against the law for a good reason, and that I'd end up beaten and dead in some alley. She screamed and pleaded and was really upset about it. I tried so hard to explain that it wasn't like that, that there were rules and stuff, but she didn't want to listen. I always thought she was denying her own submissive tendencies, Sir. She's mostly bluster."

"I never would have guessed, but I suppose it makes sense."

"Honestly Sir, it's been ages since I've heard from her."

Hmmm, I thought. Finding a video and then pictures of herself supposedly enjoying bondage and group sex scenes would have been utterly humiliating for Sylvia. It might have even brought her unhinged, particularly if she was being blackmailed. It certainly explained Josephine's assertion that she had begun drinking. "Does she know about the Domina Flagrante? About what Chantelle's achieved?"

"Yes Sir, she's well aware of it, but she has this idea that Chantelle is some kind of mesmerising guru, hell-bent on sexual excess. Over the years they've locked horns a number of times. Something to do with Planning Regulations and another time over some clashing investments they'd made. I'm really not too sure about the details. I didn't really want to know."

"Why not?"

"I've tried to distance myself from everything about Sylvia. She disowned me when she found out I'd hooked up with Chantelle."

"That's a bit harsh."

"Oh well. That's Sylvia."

"Okay, something about this is strange. Chantelle must be older than I think."

"Chantelle is forty-three, Sir."

"I would never have guessed that in a million years. And Sylvia?"

"She turns thirty-two this year. I came a little later."

"But you said they were best friends in school."

"Yes, Sir. They met in college when Chantelle went back to get a business degree."

"Okay, things make a bit more sense now. Do you have any problem with Sylvia coming to the party?"

"No, I guess not, as long as she's respectful. I think I'll just ignore her."

"What about Chantelle?"

"She hasn't mentioned it to me, Sir. But I imagine Chantelle would be looking forward to having Sylvia 'on her turf', if you know what I mean, Sir."

I nodded slowly. "Sorry for all the questions, Josephine."

"It's okay, Sir. I guess eventually there won't be any secrets. You know, once you've been around a while..."

I wasn't sure what to say, but I felt like I'd been locked outside in the rain without an umbrella. I hoped Josephine was right and that Chantelle wasn't just toying with me. "Sorry, Josephine. I was just thinking how much I hate not having control over a situation." She nodded and sighed, quietly looking up at me. I forced a smile for her. "Thanks for tonight, but I better go. Don't get up, I'll see myself out."

"Just lock the door for me, Sir."

"Okay." I stood up and leaned over to kiss her forehead, then walked to the open bedroom doorway. I smiled at her. She looked half asleep but I couldn't resist. I just had to ask. "Do you know anything about any photos of her?"

"Photos of Sylvia?" she asked, perking up a little. "What kind of photos?"

"Don't worry about it. It's just a rumour. I better get going."

"Mmmmm, okay, Sir," she sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm going to get some sleep. Forgive me for not seeing you out, Sir."

"It's okay. I'll see you at the party. Bye, Josephine."

"Mmhmmmm..." It was pure vanity that led me to believe I was responsible for the dreamy smile she had on her face as I closed her locked apartment door behind me.

Striding into the night, I was thinking I needed to be at arms length from these people, at least until I found out what the hell was going on. And Chantelle had some explaining to do. I wasn't too happy about being involved in all this without any background. It was getting colder and somehow it suited my mood. It was about time winter made its presence felt. I decided it was probably a good idea to get the envelope out of Chantelle's safe. It was starting to look like it really shouldn't be there. I doubted Chantelle would use it against Sylvia, but I didn't want her to stumble across the opportunity either. Before I'd even checked how late it was I found myself heading back to the Domina Flagrante.

I thought the walk would clear my head, but it didn't help. On a purely selfish level, I hoped all this wasn't going to ruin what I hoped to be a great party and an opportunity to advance myself. At the same time, I felt like I was becoming involved in something I didn't understand. It wasn't a good feeling.

I took the stairs two steps at a time and a chill ran through me as I pressed the button on the intercom. Jonathan's deep ebony voice surprised me when it boomed from the speaker.

"Domina Flagrante, may I help you?"

"Hello, Jonathan. Roger Moore here."

"Ah, come in Sir, welcome." The heavy door clicked and whirred, opening slowly. I was met by a burst of warm air and Jonathan's smiling, open face. "It's good to see you again, Sir. May I take your jacket?" I tossed up whether to abort the whole idea and have Jonathan call me a taxi but decided to stick with my original plan. After looking at my watch, I figured I had an hour or so before I should be in bed.

"No thanks, Jonathan, I won't be staying long."

"Ah, please Sir, I really think I should take your jacket." He smiled at me conspiratorially and took my elbow, guiding me toward the coatroom.

"What's going on, Jonathan?" I whispered. "What's this all about?"

Jonathan looked around to see if we were out of range of the cameras and leaned down a little, speaking quietly in my ear. "It's Adrian, Sir, I think he might be in trouble. I think Chantelle has him in the Training Room."

"And I should be interested because?"

"It's to do with something you gave Chantelle for safekeeping, Sir. Apparently it went missing and only Adrian could be responsible."

"Oh, good Lord. I... ugh, never mind. I better go see what's going on."

"As you wish, Sir. First door on the right leading to Mistress' office."

"Thank you, Jonathan." I bounded up the stairs intent on at least finding out... what? God, I really didn't know. I stood at the top of the stairs and looked around. I felt dizzy. My mind was whirling with questions. Should I be interrupting this? What if Adrian 'did' steal the envelope, what did that mean? He must be working for someone else, or maybe he is in love with Chantelle, or Sylvia, or... What am I thinking? What has Adrian got to do with this?

I tapped my forehead. No. It must be something else, like a misunderstanding. Surely that's it. My feet took me to the door with the small sign above it, saying 'Training Room'. Before I knew it I was rapping my knuckles on it.

In moments it flew open and Chantelle stood there frowning and catching her breath. I gulped looking her up and down. She was dressed in black leather almost from top to toe. A silky red corset split her in two, but other than that she wore long gloves and sculpted thigh high boots with a black leather mini. She teetered on high heels and the tops of her breasts bulged over the cups of the corset with her rapid deep breathing.

"Roger! Perfect! Come in!" She took my hand in hers and pulled me through the door before I could say a word. I heard the 'clunk clack' as the heavy door locked behind me and knew we weren't going to be disturbed. "Adrian stole the envelope right out of my safe. Can you believe it?"

"It can't be true."

"It is. Come. You can hear it from his own mouth." I heard whimpering from one corner of the torch lit room, and, looking around, was surprised by the feelings I had as I perceived it. It was raw and pagan, almost ancient, eliciting thoughts I never knew I had. I ran my fingers over the faux stonework and looked up, noting the beams and rafters. A whipping post with large rings hanging from it dominated one end of the room. A heavy wooden 'X' with straps and buckles was bolted to the back wall.

"Wow," I said, less than intelligently.

"I set this room up much like a dungeon, right down to setting the temperature a couple of degrees lower than the rest of the building. How do you like the stocks over there?" she asked, pointing. "Imported from England. Cost a pretty penny too, I might add. And see those shackles hanging on those chains? Made by one of the best 'old world' blacksmiths in France. I must admit though that most of the leather goods in here I had custom made locally. Like this training table. Feel that."

"Mmmmm, nice work," I said honestly, passing my hand over the soft leather surface and admiring the craftsmanship. I also noted the kid leather straps woven into the plush, upholstered tabletop and imagined the possibilities.

"Thank you Roger, I knew you'd appreciate this room. Now, come over here," she said, walking to the back corner.

I wasn't quite prepared for what I saw. "Whoa!"

"Now, now, Roger, try to remember Adrian is no novice when it comes to punishments. And he has confessed. And we have talked about it, and agreed to this punishment in lieu of dismissal." She winked. "Good help is so hard to find these days, you know..."

I just shook my head and tried to keep my mouth closed. Poor Adrian was gagged and his eyes were bulging out of his head. He was naked and tied down on his back on what looked suspiciously like what I'd call a rack. He was bent in two with his feet tied next to his outspread hands at the top of the rack. His bright red ass was up in the air. What I couldn't make out was the tangle of black... something... that appeared around his crotch. I didn't realise I was staring.

"CBT."

"Sorry?"

"CBT. 'Cock and ball torture'. CBT for short. I have his genitals lightly bound in leather."

"Does it hurt?"

Chantelle cackled. "Only if he gets an erection."

I shook my head and raised my eyes to Chantelle. "He confessed?"

"Yep."

"May I speak with him?"

"Sure! Just let me take this gag off. Sorry, but his whiny English accent gives me the shits sometimes." I almost laughed at her sense of humour as the ball gag was removed from Adrian's mouth.

"H... Hello, Sir," he said after exercising his lips and jaw.

"Are you all right, Adrian?"

"Nothing I don't deserve, Sir."

"What's going on?" Yeah Roger, go for the jugular. I wished I could punch myself.

Smack! Chantelle smacked his ass hard.

"Ohhhh..."

"Tell the man!"

"Y... Yes, Mistress. I stole the envelope. I thought it had money in it then I... lost it. Sorry, Sir."

"Oh, Roger. I don't know what came over him. Still, it's been some time since I've had reason to discipline him. God knows what else he's been up to. Adrian is usually so well behaved. Aren't you, pet?"

Smack!!

"Owwww! Sorry, Mistress! I'll never do it again!"

Chantelle waved her hand nonchalantly and turned back to me. "Adrian assures me it was the first and only time he has ever contemplated doing something like this. He was desperate with a gambling debt and would have paid the money back. It was either this, or his job, sooo..."

I just shook my head. Adrian's ass looked like it was seriously sunburnt. And there were welts and bruises raised in lines across his cheeks. Even his asshole was red. I winced. What had she been doing to him? "What makes those lines, Chantelle? They look nasty."

"That's what a firm caning looks like. He won't be sitting for a day or so. No less than he deserves, I might add. He's lucky I didn't cane his balls. God, Roger. I'm sorry about the envelope, but with everything that's going on, and the party coming up..." She looked at her watch, "tonight!" She smiled, "I think it's probably a good thing to have one less issue to deal with."

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

She smiled at me and winked. She picked up a round leather paddle and slapped the heavy, flat object several of times on her open palm. "Gonna stay and watch?" Her eyes twinkled again.

Frankly I would have preferred to talk to her, but it was clear she was busy. I thought I might get home and get some sleep. Maybe we'd get to talk tomorrow before the party. "Ah, no. I think I'll go." Then I remembered I wanted to call Annie. I could do that tomorrow too. "Actually, I couldn't get Annie's number while I'm here, could I? I'd get it from my office but it's closed for the weekend."

"Bit late to be calling her isn't it, Roger? I would have thought after Josephine, you'd be exhausted." She giggled and reached between her breasts inside the corset.

Catching the black master key when she threw to me, I shook my head and grinned. "Thanks. I was going to call her tomorrow to ah, to see if she wanted to come to the party with me."

"Oh you are adorable, Roger. Go on. It's in the Rolodex on my desk. Under 'W'."

"Thanks, Chantelle. I'll be right back."

"Oh, we'll be here." She looked down at Adrian. "Won't we, you naughty boy?"

"Yes, Mistress!" Adrian squeaked. He sounded almost eager.

The door to Chantelle's quarters closed behind me and I headed to her desk and sat down behind it. I picked up her Rolodex and quickly looked around to see if Chantelle had a camera in her own office. I took the risk and quickly leafed through it, my fingers shaking.

I took my diary from my inside jacket pocket and readied my pen. I was leafing through to Sylvia Harper and stopped in my tracks. Right before getting to "Harper", there was "Hammerstein". My jaw dropped. Chantelle has my boss' number? Noted on the small cardboard page was 'S's boss'. Added in a different colour was 'R's too'. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. I flicked over one page and there was Sylvia's home number... and her office number, and her cell. Hmmm. I jotted down the numbers just in case.