Den Of Iniquity Ch 07

The realisation that Josephine was Sylvia's sister hit me in the stomach like a punch. I needed to get out of there. Of all the things she could have said, I wasn't prepared for that.

I picked up my clothes and dressed quickly. Before long, I was standing at her door, mumbling an apology for my hasty exit.

She kissed me and asked if she could see me again before the party. I told her I thought I would be a bit busy, but I would see. Her pout made me feel bad, but I needed to be at 'arms length' from these people. At least until I found out what was going on.

It was getting colder outside. It suited my mood. I wasn't sure why I was heading back to the Domina Flagrante. I convinced myself the walk would clear my head.

It didn't help.

It was just cold.

I mean, what was I getting into?

Josephine was no help. She didn't seem to know anything important. Her revelation made my stomach feel uneasy. As I walked down the street in the cool of late evening, I fought to recall the conversation we had while I was dressing. I'd already told her I had to get out of there. She was laying on her bed, still naked and beautiful, her head resting comfortably on her hand, propped up on an elbow, watching me do up the buttons on my shirt.

"Then you know she's in trouble?" I asked.

Josephine sat up, a concerned look overtaking the pout she had been wearing.

"She's in trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"Well, I'm not sure," I hesitated. "She's been acting strangely lately."

The look of concern disappeared as quickly as it came.

"She's always acting strangely. She's a strange person. You know her? From the legal game I mean?"

"She works at my office, Josephine. She'll be coming tomorrow night."

She rolled her eyes and fell back on the bed, talking to the ceiling.

"Oh. Oh, right then. Well, no wonder she's been acting strangely. A lot of demons are being resurrected, Sir."

"Demons?"

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

That explained the confrontation we had in my office. I looked softly at Josephine.

"Does Chantelle know Sylvia?"

"Oh yeah," Josephine sighed in resignation.

"Let me get this right. Chantelle knows you are Sylvia Harper's sister?"

She sat up again, cross-legged this time.

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

My mind was awhirl. What indeed? Had Chantelle simply forgotten to mention it to me?

"She just hadn't said anything, that's all."

"They're not exactly on speaking terms Sir."

I could hardly think straight.

"I'm not sure if I understand."

"Sylvia and Chantelle. They were best friends in school, Sir. But when I was nineteen I told Sylvia I was joining the BDSM lifestyle, and the whole story came out. She tried to convince me I would turn out just like Chantelle - a sad and sorry old lesbian."

Josephine shook her head sadly and continued.

"Apparently Chantelle had done the same years before. 'Come out' I mean... Anyway, Sylvia went crazy, going on and on and telling me it was unnatural and that I'd end up beaten and dead in some alley. She screamed and pleaded and I tried so hard to explain but she just wouldn't listen. Honestly Sir, it's been ages since I've heard from her."

"Does she know about the Domina Flagrante? About Chantelle and her achievements?"

"Yes Sir, she's well aware of them. They have a rather antagonistic rivalry going. They've locked horns a number of times over the years. Something to do with Planning Regulations and some investments they'd made. I'm really not too sure about the details. I wasn't interested."

"Why not?"

"Sylvia disowned me when she found out I had hooked up with Chantelle."

"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?"

"My sister turns thirty-two this year. I came a little later. I am twenty-four Sir, in case you were wondering."

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

"Indeed Sir. Chantelle went back to college to get a business degree. That's where they met, and became lovers."

"Sylvia and Chantelle were lovers???"

"Well, according to Chantelle they were. Sylvia has never mentioned it to me."

"I never knew all this."

"There is a lot of history, Sir."

"So it seems. Do you have any problem with Sylvia coming to the party?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. No, I guess not. It might be weird if she speaks with me, but at the moment I think I'll just ignore her."

"What about Chantelle?"

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

"Sorry for all the questions, Josephine."

"It's okay, Sir. I guess eventually there won't be any secrets. You know, once you have been around a while... and been filled in on everyone's history..."

I wasn't sure what to say. I had some thinking to do. I mean, what was going on? Was it something I should be concerned about?

Was I a player or a pawn?

I chuckled to myself and Josephine smiled hopefully at me.

"Sir?"

"Sorry, Josephine. I was just thinking how much I hate not having control over a situation." I smiled at her.

She lounged back across her bed, her arms reaching above her and arching her back.

"Well, I think you are doing fine, Sir," she giggled.

I smiled. I couldn't resist. I had to ask.

"So you don't know anything about any photos of her?"

"Photos? Of Sylvia? What kind of photos?"

She was looking up at the ceiling again.

"X-rated ones."

"I don't know anything about any x-rated photos of Sylvia, Sir. They would be extremely embarrassing for her though, if there were any."

If I was standing anywhere else but where I was, I might have seen the look on Josephine's face.

****************************************************************

Briefly I wondered if the wind had turned around. I seemed to be heading into it once again. I thought it was about time winter made its presence known.

I was also thinking I had really better get that envelope from Chantelle's safe. It was starting to look like it really shouldn't be there. It should be in my hands. Not hers. I just had a bad feeling. A bad feeling that was driving me on, toward the Domina Flagrante.

Up the marble steps I walked. They looked more impressive at night than during the day. The smooth cold black marble of the heavy, ornate balustrade almost matched the temperature of my hand, despite the fact that I'd had it stuffed deeply in the pocket of my pants. A chill ran through me.

I pressed the button on the intercom and was surprised to hear Jonathan's deep ebony voice boom from the speaker.

"Domina Flagrante, may I help you?"

"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 have Jonathan call me a taxi and instead decided to stay a little while. I wanted to be alert for the party, but after looking at my watch, figured I had an hour or so before I should be heading to bed.

"No thanks Jonathan, I might stay a little while, but I will keep my suit intact."

"Please Sir, I really think I should take your jacket."

He smiled at me conspiratorially, took my elbow and moved me over to the Coat Room anyway.

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

Jonathan looked around to see if we were out of range of the cameras and leaned down, whispering in my ear.

"It's Adrian, Sir, I think he might be in trouble. I think Chantelle has him in the Training Room."

"What's going on? And why is it any of my business?"

"It's to do with an envelope you gave to Chantelle for safekeeping, Sir. Apparently it has gone missing and only Chantelle and Adrian know the combination to her safe."

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

"As you wish Sir, first door on the right heading towards Mistress's office, Sir."

"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? I must be going mad!

Or maybe it's something else, a 'misunderstanding'. Surely that's it. Adrian couldn't do something like that, it's not in him. He must has moved it when cleaning or something.

I slapped the sides of my head.

Who cleans the insides of safes???

Think, man, think!

My feet took me to the door with the small sign above it, saying "Training Room". I was rapping on the door before I'd taken a breath.

The door flew open and Chantelle stood there, dressed in black leather almost from top to toe. A silky red corset split her in two with it's black laces cinched tight. She wore long black leather gloves and sculpted thigh high black leather boots and 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 breaths.

"Roger! Perfect! Come on in!"

With that she took my hand in hers and pulled me into the Training Room.

I heard the 'clunk clack' of the heavy door closing behind me and knew I was locked in.

"Adrian here stole the envelope right out of my safe."

"It can't be true."

"It is. Come, you can hear it from his own mouth."

I heard whimpering coming from one corner of the torch lit room, and, looking around, was surprised by the feelings this room elicited. It was a dungeon, through and through. I noted the faux stonework and beams and rafters. A whipping post with large rings hanging from it. A heavy wooden X with straps and buckles bolted to the wall. A set of stocks replete with sweat marks around the pillory holes. Chantelle must have realised my eyes were adjusting and had seen me looking around as we made our way toward the sounds.

"I set this room up much like a dungeon, right down to setting the temperature two degrees lower than the rest of the building. As you can see there is a lovely pillory imported from England. Cost a pretty penny too, I might add."

Why was she in such a chipper mood? It was like a weight had been lifted from her.

"And some of the shackles you can see hanging from the beam overhead, along with a lot of the chain work you see around you, come from one of the best old world blacksmiths in France. I must admit that most of the leather cuffs and in fact anything made from leather in here, I had custom made. Like this training table. Feel that."

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

"Thank you Roger, I knew you would appreciate it. Now over here..."

"Goodness!"

"Now, now, Roger, try to remember Adrian is familiar with the things I have planned for him. And he has confessed. And... he has accepted this punishment in lieu of dismissal. Good help is so hard to find these days, you know..."

My God, she actually winked at me.

Poor Adrian was gagged and his eyes were bulging out of his head. He was naked and tied down on his back to what looked suspiciously like a rack. His feet had been raised above his head and shackled next to his hands and his red ass was in the air. What I couldn't make out was the tangle of black that appeared around his crotch.

"CBT."

"Sorry?"

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

"That's gotta hurt."

Chantelle cackled.

"Only if he gets an erection, poor boy."

I shook my head.

"He confessed?"

"Yep."

"May I speak with him?"

"Sure! Just let me take this gag off him. Sorry, but his whiny English accent gives me the shits sometimes."

I shook my head and looked down on Adrian as the ball gag was removed from his mouth.

"H.. hello Sir," he spluttered, the pain in his voice apparent.

"Are you all right, Adrian?"

"N.. nothing I d.. 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, M.. Mistressss... I stole it... I thought it had m.. money in it.. th.. then .. I ...I ...lost it... so.. sorry S.. Sir."

"I'm sorry, Roger. I don't know what must have come over him. Still, it's been some time since I've had reason to discipline him. Adrian is usually so well behaved. Aren't you, pet?"

Smack!!

"Ughhh.. sorry M.. Mistress.. I'll n.. never do it again..."

Chantelle waved her hand nonchalantly and turned to me again.

"Adrian assures me it was the first and only time he has ever contemplated doing something like this, that 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. There were small 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 lines like that across the skin, Chantelle? It looks nasty."

"That's what a firm caning looks like once done. He won't be sitting or lying on his back for a couple of days. 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 a good thing to have one less issue to deal with."

"Yes, I guess you are right."

She smiled at me and winked. "Tonight, eh? Such fun..." She had a faraway look in her eyes and turned from me. She picked up a round leather paddle and I watched as she slapped the heavy, flat object several of times on her open palm. "Gonna stay and watch?" Her eyes twinkled again.

"Ah, no. I think I'll go. Actually, you wouldn't have Annie's number, would you?"

"Bit late to be calling her isn't it? I would have thought after Josephine, you would have been exhausted. You never cease to amaze me, Sir." She giggled and reached inside the corset between her breasts. I shook my head and grinned, and caught her black master key when she threw it to me.

"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 rolladex on my desk. Wilkinson, right?"

I nodded.

"Under 'W' then."

"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 replied.

He sounded almost eager.

****************************************************************

Entering Chantelle's office, I headed toward her desk and sat down in her large leather chair. I picked up her rolladex and looked quickly round to see if I was being watched. I hoped Chantelle wouldn't have a camera in her own office. I took the risk and quickly leafed through it, my fingers shaking.

"I'd make a hopeless detective," I thought to myself.

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's number? There 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. Even her cell? Hmmm. I jotted down the number just in case.

I turned back to the rolladex and fumbled with it almost dropping it. What if Chantelle has Gardner's number too. God I better get Annie's number. Have I been taking too long? Will Chantelle get suspicious? I flicked to the back and worked my way forward. I got to Annie's number and wrote down her home and cell numbers.

After quickly tidying Chantelle's desk, I stood up and put my diary back in my pocket. I moved behind the chair and pushed it in. I went to walk around Chantelle's desk and noticed the open floor safe over by the wall under the bar area. I was walking over to take a look when Chantelle's door clicked and started opening.

It gave me a start and I felt the heat in my face as Chantelle came through the door on a mission.

"I need to find a.... what are you doing, Roger?"

"I was.. was just looking in the safe."

"There's nothing in there."

"The envelope was the only thing you had in there?"

She nodded.

"Well if he left it open like that, he didn't conceal his crime very well."

"Oh no, I left it open, I just forgot to close it again."

"And the envelope was the only thing in there?"

"Yes."

"Then why were you looking in the safe? How did you find out it was missing?"

"Alright. You got me there. I got curious. I wanted to know."

"Wanted to know what?"

"Jesus Roger, what do you know?"

"I asked first."

"This isn't a game."

"Well, I know there is something going on, something between you and Sylvia."

"Oh that."

She waved her hand.

"What's coming to Sylvia, she brought upon herself."

"I don't want this party to become a mess, Chantelle."

"Don't worry, I'll be discrete. I have that bitch right where I want her, and I don't need a photo of her for anything. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find a new crop. Somehow I broke one on Adrian's ass..."

She moved through the curtains into her 'study'. She called out to me.

"Show yourself out would you, Roger?"

I shook my head. I knew when I was being dismissed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Chantelle."

"Call me."

"Okay. And thanks."

I walked over to the door and looked down its side for the release button I'd seen Chantelle use. I found and pressed it and the door opened.

Walking through it and looking over my shoulder I saw it closing behind me.

Turning back to the corridor leading from Chantelle's office, I set off down the hall past the Training Room.

"I would have liked to have spoken with Adrian," I thought.

"Sir? Is Adrian okay?"

It was Jonathan, waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"As good as can be expected under the circumstances I guess, Jonathan," I replied.

"What do you mean Sir?"

"Well, Adrian is being punished for stealing the envelope, Jonathan."

"But.. but... he wouldn't do it, Sir. There's just no way..."

We were walking almost side by side, back toward the entranceway.

"And yet he did Jonathan. He did. I heard it from his own mouth."

He shook his big black head.

"He wouldn't do it Sir, he wouldn't!" he implored.

"He needed money, gambling or something... he thought it was money, then he lost it."

"He wouldn't do it, Sir. Adrian is 'anti' everything. He is very strict on himself, Sir. He doesn't drink or gamble. He never does ANYthing wrong..."

He shook his head again.

"Maybe he's protecting someone. Maybe it's a conspiracy!"

"C'mon, Jonathan. I heard him. I know he's telling the truth."

I took Jonathan's arm and led him back to the safety of the coat room by the entranceway.

I whispered and Jonathan leant down, his breath smelling of hazelnuts.

"What do you mean 'maybe he's protecting someone'?"

"I swear to you Sir, Adrian did NOT steal that envelope. I KNOW him, Sir. He wouldn't do it."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, he is covering up for something, Sir. Maybe something big."