Teena - A House of Ill Repute

Teena - A House of Ill Repute
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ISBN:  9781780800738
Author:  Jennifer Jane Pope
Word Count:  76,452
Format:  eBook

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Teena ThymeTeena Thyme
Thyme II ThymeThyme II Thyme
Net AssetNet Asset
Assignment for AlisonAssignment for Alison
Chain ReactionChain Reaction

I sucked on the gag and managed to swallow with some difficulty, breathing in through my nose as deeply as the stringent corset permitted.
   Inside my rubber costume I felt hot and clammy. Suddenly my fetish garb did not seem so exciting and I wanted to pull it all off and simply go and lie down for a while, but I knew there was no chance of that happening. Gagged as I was, there was no way I could convey my wishes to Anne-Marie and any physical show would only be interpreted wrongly.

1839 - Having escaped from the clutches of the wicked Gregory Hacklebury and his insane 'maid' Megan Crowthorne, the youthful an supposedly innocent Angelina has been re-united with her own former maid, the beautiful Indira, but cast out into a world with only her jewellery and a few pounds.

1975 - Teena Thyme, now back in her own body, knows that it is only a matter of time before she will find herself back as Angelina, for there is unfinished business which her ancestor will not be able to take care of herself.

From a world of hot pants and kinky boots to one of corsets, garters and silken mysteries, Teena/Angelina becomes mistress of an early Victorian brothel for the well heeled - and none are as well heeled as Angelina and her girls!

'Right then, dolly girls,' Anne-Marie said, switching off the engine and hauling on the handbrake, 'we've arrived and now the fun can begin.' She got out, opened the rear door on Andrea's side and unfastened her seat belt. It then needed quite a lot of effort on both their parts for Andrea to climb out, and the same applied when it came to my turn, but eventually we were standing on the edge of the grassy area, caped, masked and our hands still bound. I looked around, expecting to see some sign of our hostess coming out to welcome us, but if anyone in the house had witnessed our arrival, they gave no indication of it.
   I should at this juncture perhaps give a brief description of Anne-Marie's attire, for although it was in no way as bizarre as ours - she had to drive, after all, and might possibly have had to get out of the car, one never knows - she was still striking in tight leather jeans tucked into high-heeled knee-high boots, and tightly hugging her torso was a zipped leather jacket cut to emphasise her generous figure, bosom and buttocks alike. She also wore black leather gloves, so that only her face and head remained uncovered, giving her an aura of power and control that would have remained even had the two of us not been bound and gagged as we were.
   'Now we have to walk down there through the trees,' she said, clipping leashes to each of our collars. 'Andrea's been here before, but Teenie, go very carefully. The path isn't all that level in places and there are usually bits of odd branch and twig all over the place, especially at this time of the year.'
   And she wasn't kidding, I soon realised, for once we had crossed the lawn the trees closed in on both sides, blocking out almost all the light, a condition made even worse by my tinted lenses. I kept my eyes firmly on Anne-Marie's silhouette as she walked just in front of us, my right shoulder rubbing and bumping against Andrea's in the darkness, my feet occasionally landing on dry twigs that cracked beneath them, or stumbling against larger branches that fortunately were not so big they didn't kick out of my way. It was so overwhelmingly dark the only way I knew we were on a path at all was because Anne-Marie had told us we were. I was mightily relieved when, a few hundred yards or so further on, we emerged into a large clearing.
   The moon had ducked for cover again during our perilous trek, but it chose to make a second reappearance a moment later, revealing an impressive looking stone structure about thirty yards in front of us. I say impressive because it was solid and high, but a second inspection showed there were several chunks of it missing, not surprising given that I quickly estimated it had to be several hundred years old.
   'Welcome to Finton Priory, Teenie-slave,' Anne-Marie said.
   I gawped up at the massive stone pillars and the heavily carved balustrade that had largely survived, although of the original roof only a couple of heavy beams now remained silhouetted against the night sky.
   'Don't worry,' Anne-Marie continued as if sensing my misgivings, 'it's all perfectly safe. Nothing's fallen off these past few years and Carmen has a builder check it every few weeks. Besides, where we're going is more secure than an air-raid shelter.'
   She wasn't kidding, either, for once we had entered through the arched doorway and trotted obediently in her wake up a central aisle that must once have been polished by the feet of generations of monks or nuns or both, we approached a huge carved block at least five feet high and ten feet from side to side. And we saw, as we moved around the side of it, it was at least a good eight feet from front to back. I immediately thought of an altar, but it had been built for more than just that purpose, because at the rear, a section of the stone had been swung away to reveal a doorway and stone steps leading down into the ground, their unevenness revealed by a pale light filtering up from somewhere deep below.
   'You'll need to watch your head at the top here, Teenie,' Anne-Marie warned, 'but it's higher once you get down the first half dozen steps.' And it was, but in my towering heels I still felt as though my head was about to scrape on the rough-hewn ceiling. Anne-Marie went first, walking in a sideways fashion so she could keep an eye on my progress, but I didn't fancy her chances if I toppled forward on to her, nor my chances if Andrea, who was bringing up the rear, fell on top of me. Thankfully, however, the steps grew wider as we descended and we finally made it to a level area some twenty-five feet below ground level and maybe even more, for I had completely lost count of the number of steps I had negotiated.
   We found ourselves grouped together in a rectangular antechamber, which I guessed had to be about ten feet by eight feet and which was illuminated by electric light units fitted on each of the longer walls. The roof here was higher than on the stairway, but even now it could not have been more than a foot above my head, and the overall effect was therefore quite claustrophobic.
   'C'mon,' Anne-Marie urged, gathering our leashes and giving them a sharp tug. 'The best bit is yet to come.' She turned and made her way towards a sturdy looking door set in the far wall, and opened it to reveal a short passageway with a vaulted ceiling. A single lamp hanging from this ceiling burned about midway along its approximate twelve-foot length, showing a second door at the far end. Anne-Marie paused before it and knocked three times.
   We waited in silence, but only for a few seconds, then there was the sound of a bolt being withdrawn and the door swung open. Standing close behind Anne-Marie my initial view of what lay beyond was very much obscured, but as she moved forward again and I passed through the door, what I saw was almost enough to take away what little breath my tight corset allowed me.
   I realised straight away that my estimate as to how far beneath the ground we had come had been much too conservative, for the long chamber into which we now emerged stretched upwards for what had to be at least thirty feet, with stone vaulting supported by huge pillars set near to the side walls along its length forming natural alcoves at ground level. At the furthest end was a wide raised area like a stage, at the back of which several arches were lit by blue and red lights, giving an eerie backdrop to a scenario that looked as though it had been well underway for some time.
   Roughly in the centre of the 'stage' stood a huge wooden wheel, against which a featureless rubber figure was bound in a spread-eagle position, straps securing it at wrists, elbows, shoulders, chest, waist, thighs and ankles, so that as the wheel turned slowly, the figure did not sag with its own shifting weight, but remained stiff and unmoving, like yet another doll. As we came closer I saw the rubber skin stretched over firm breasts and wide hips, but I knew that was no guarantee the victim was actually a female, any more than Andrea's initial outward appearance meant that she was actually a girl.
   The wheel seemed to be driven by some kind of motor unit I could see standing behind the support beam on which it spun, and the rest of the stage area was deserted, although to either side there were matching empty pillories I guessed would be filled before the night was over. So engrossed was I at the sight of the slow spinning mannequin, that we had walked halfway along the main hall before I realised that the dozen or so dark recesses formed by the pillars on either side each contained a similarly garbed and equally silent figure.
   I shivered slightly wondering just who they all were and how long they had been there, before another thought struck me and I tried to look harder at the next figure. Maybe they weren't real, living people at all. Perhaps they were simply the statues they resembled, placed there for theatrical effect. I peered through the gloom that persisted at this end of the hall, trying to identify and sort out straps or manacles that might be binding arms and legs, but the lenses made seeing clearly difficult enough even in good light, and this low level of illumination most certainly wasn't helping my vision.
   'Good evening, girls.'
   I recognised Carmen's voice, but otherwise the tall figure that emerged from the shadows as if by magic could have been anyone, for her face was hidden by a black leather mask and hood, the eyes and lips of which had been picked out in white for a truly devilish effect. The leather bodysuit was similarly decorated, the white piping lines emphasising breasts and waist and running down the outside of each long leg. The gloves and boots that encased her hands and feet were, I saw, part of the main cat suit, extensions connected to the end of each limb so that when she moved, Carmen appeared like some sort of dark insect, deadly on her spiked heels with glinting steel talons attached to the tips of her fingers.
   Anne-Marie was clearly very impressed with the effect. 'Oh, now that I do like!' she enthused. 'Expensive though, I should think?'
   'A present from an admirer,' Carmen replied. She nodded towards the illuminated stage area. 'As you can see, I'm rewarding him this evening for his generosity.' She turned back and appeared to study Andrea and me with a critical gaze, although her actual eyes were barely visible through the slits in her mask. 'The Dolly twins!' she exclaimed at last. 'Very sweet, I must say. Which one is which? No, don't tell me, I'll try to guess, and it'll be such fun finding out later on. Perhaps we could have a sort of competition among the guests? And don't for one moment think I'm going to be influenced by that one's big rubber cock. I know you only too well, Annie. That could just as easily be your idea of a joke.'
   'Is anyone else here yet?' Anne-Marie asked, smiling confidently back at our hostess. 'We're a bit early, but I always prefer to be early rather than late.'
   'There are a few here already,' Carmen replied. 'I had two mistresses and a master as houseguests last night and they're busy freshening up their slaves just now. Two of them spent fifteen hours together in one of the old penitence cells, so we thought it best to give them a bath and a fresh outfit for tonight.'
   I felt the squelching sensation between my toes as I shifted my weight, and glumly wished that maybe someone would think about affording me that luxury, though I suspected it wasn't going to happen, at least not for some few hours yet.

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