Chapter 77: Futures & Options

I felt that I really had to talk to Freddie before I made a decision. I mean he had brought me into the business, albeit in a rather underhand way, and he'd given me a lot of support. He'd arranged for us to meet at the club where he'd first suggested that I might join his team.

As I walked in I saw Colonel Snell in his wheelchair scooting across the lobby in the direction of the lift. He skidded the chair to a halt and swang around to face me. "Garry!" he boomed (a memory for names and indeed discretion, I suspect were not his strongest attributes). "Good to see you, young man. Clegg's leant me a couple of rooms here while I'm in town."

"Hullo," I said. "how are things in the colonies?"

Snell grinned conspiratorially. "As they should be, young man, as they should be! Here, help me up to my room, will you?"

I thought he was well able to manage but he seemed keen for me to accompany him. I pushed his chair into the lift. He prodded the button for the fourth floor with the end of his walking stick. The ancient lift gave a shudder and started upwards with a whine of an electric motor and a hiss of cable. It stopped at the fourth floor without taking the trouble to slow down first. Snell's chair bounced and fell back with a thump. He didn't seem bothered. I pushed him out of the lift and took the route indicated by the gestures of his stick down the corridor. Confronted by one of the club's room maids, he waved her aside with the stick. "Stand clear, girl," he bellowed. "Coming through!"

The suite that Clegg had provided for Snell was comfortably appointed but its main feature was the tableau provided by the three helpless members of Snell's colonial harem. Mylene was there, tied kneeling by the side of Basher's bed; naked from the waist up, mouth wrenched wide by a Hodgkinson gag. Ropes tied around the base of her tits had forced them into the shape of distended globes; the nipples bruised and reddened. On Basher's bedside table were the implements responsible for the tortured look of her tits, clamps, pinchers and a pair of pin wheels. Basher wheeled across to beside Mylene. She squealed at his approach. He responded by widening her gag another notch. "I fear your team just took another three wickets, my dear," he said, causing her to squeal more and wriggle against the ropes that held her; she evidently knew that good news for the Australian cricket team was bad news for her. "You'll have to take the consequences of that in a little while."

Kneeling on the other side of the bed, Angie, the Canadian, was trussed to a wooden frame. She was still wearing a short white dress like that all the girls had been dressed in when they were in the International House; after a few weeks of wear, it was now dirty and torn. Although ropes held her firmly against the frame her arms stretched out across the bed, her wrists shackled and joined by a short length of chain. From the way she was positioned and the array of oils, gels and creams on the table beside her, it was obvious that Angie's main role was to provide Basher with his regular doses of masturbation.

A third girl stood beside the bed. Basher waved towards her. "Did you meet my little kiwi?" he said. "Makes a very good little waitress, don't you, Lucy my dear?" The slight, dark eyed, girl nodded warily, prevented from answering by the ball gag that filled her mouth. Basher turned back towards me, "I'm sure she'll manage to atone for the faults of her countryman."

"Countryman?" I asked, knowing that this would only lead to another diatribe from the xenophobic Snell.

"Jackson, Peter Jackson," Basher said with a sneer. "Has the nerve to take an English story and high-jack it to the southern hemisphere. Tolkien's part of our cultural legacy," he snapped, "what's a New Zealander doing filming it down there? He should have brought it here. Heaven knows his parents were English! Disgraceful." He seemed to calm down a little. "Can she get you a drink?"

I shook my head, "Sorry Basher, I can't stop," I said. "I'm seeing Freddie."

"Fair enough," said Snell. "Tell him I'm happy with this lot and thanks for the rooms. Now help me up on to the bed, can you?"

I leant him my arm and allowed him to lever himself up from his chair and onto the bed. Lucy went to draw the covers over him. He waved his hand. "No, no," he said. "Just unzip my trousers and put some baby oil on her hands," he nodded towards the helpless Angie. "I feel in need of a little relaxation before I turn my attentions to Mylene here."

I'll leave you to it," I said, waving to Basher. He nodded and lay back on the bed to receive the ministrations of the girls.

I made my way down to the room that Freddie was using. Elly was there too.

I explained about the Minister's offer. I'd expected him to be pretty angry. I mean, I've never liked customers poaching my staff. Instead his response was measured, thoughtful. "Hmm," he said, putting the ball back into my court. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, Freddie," I said. "On the face of it, it's a great opportunity. I've got on well with all the people that I've met there and, if I'm blunt, it offers me a lifestyle I couldn't hope to maintain here. I mean I know you've been very supportive over Sukie and Rachel but I'm realistic enough to know that we can't sustain that sort of indulgence here, even though I enjoy it. On the other hand I would hate to leave Sukie and Rachel here, they depend on me, I think and it seems unkind to walk away from them. Plus, of course, everyone here has been great. I know what it can be like having a new face come in with new ideas but everyone's been great."