"Sexually, of course?"
"Yes."
"It gives you a thrill to touch it?"
"Oh yes. And to feel it all over my body when I've nothing on."
"But how do I come into it. This cape isn't over your body?"
Erika looked at her shyly. "I-I enjoy seeing someone else wearing it, too. And when it's someone like you"-her words came in a rush-"and when it's over her-I mean, your- naked body, it's all I can do to stop going crazy."
Well, well, thought Marlene, so she's a lesbian, too. She probably doesn't know it, either. There seem to have been a number of men in her life up to now. But she's a lesbian, all right. And that's nice. It'll be pleasant to poke her. I'd like to whip her a little, too. I wonder how she'd take it? Better wait, though, for a bit. Aloud, she said: "You poor darling. Sitting in that raincoat over your clothes all the time. I'm so sorry. Do get undressed and wear it naked." She let the folds of her cape fall a little away from her knees.
Erika stood up at once. "Oh, yes please," she said breathlessly. She slipped out of the raincoat and began to undress rapidly. When she was quite naked she picked up the raincoat again and held it up in front of her for a moment, regarding it adoringly. "It's such a wonderful thing!" She put it slowly over her shoulders, and put her arms into its sleeves.
Marlene stood up. "Let me button it." She put her hands on the girl's shoulders and let them drop slowly, over the rubber surface of the raincoat, to her breasts. Lightly she caressed the firm hillocks. Then, still through the flimsy rubber, she felt for the nipples and squeezed them lightly.
Erika closed her eyes and began to breathe very fast.
"Hasn't a woman done this to you before?" said Marlene.
"No," murmured Erika, dreamily. "But it's heaven, from you."
"Why don't you do the same to me?"
"Oh yes. I'd love to." Erika, her eyes still closed, put up her hands, opened the folds of the cape, and felt for Marlene's breasts. "No," said Marlene. "Do it through the rubber, as I'm doing."
Erika opened her eyes at once and stared at her.
"So you do like rubber, too? It's not only for whipping that you wear it?"
"Of course not," lied Marlene glibly. "I love the feel of it against my skin, just as you do. And I adore the smell of it, too." And that, she thought should do the trick. She'll never open her mouth now.
"Oh, so do I," said Erika, huskily. How marvellously things have turned out, she thought. If only that damned man weren't in the bedroom, lying on her bed, we could perhaps go there ourselves, and lie on the bed, and fondle each other a little.
As if in answer to her thoughts, Carl Gunther appeared in the doorway from the bedroom. "Excuse me, Fraulein Director," he said quietly, seeming not to notice that the two women were almost in each other's arms. "May I take my clothes? You said I could go."
The women pulled away from each other abruptly. "I ought to whip you again," said Marlene, "for not knocking before you come into a room. But never mind. Next time. Let me see your back." She turned to Erika. "I usually do him with iodine before he goes home. I don't want him to get an infection- and rob me of my weekly pleasure."
The man turned his back to her.
Erika gave a gasp as she saw the lacerated skin, the deep weals, the half-congealed blood. For a second she felt a wave of remorse that she had been responsible for some of it. But immediately the remorse was conquered by an exciting sensation of expectation. "I should like," she said slowly, "to give him a few more strokes. May I?"
Marlene shook her head. "He'd never be able to put his clothes on. His blood is nearly dry now, you see. If you whip him again it'll all open up and it'll be morning before he can go home. No, dear, you'll have to wait till we get to Paris."
"Paris? Even Paris? You said Frenchmen aren't very masochistic.
"They're not. But there's an Englishman who lives there who is quite a masochist."
"Oh, I see. How exciting! Will you let me whip him?"
"Of course." Marlene looked closely at the back that had been presented for her inspection. "It'll be all right, but go and get the iodine."
The man went out of the living-room, across the bedroom, and into the bathroom. He returned in a moment, holding a bottle and some cotton wool in his hands. He gave them to Marlene and turned his back on her again. She opened the bottle and poured a liberal amount of iodine on to the cotton wool. Then she began to paint his weals with it. He flinched with its sting.
When she had finished he took the bottle and the wad of cotton wool from her hands. He went back to the bathroom.
Erika chuckled. "He's well-trained."
"He ought to be, after the things I've done to him."
"Do tell me. What other things do you do? Other tortures, I mean."
Marlene laughed. "Have patience, my dear. You shall see everything, in Paris and other places."
The man came back into the room and, wordlessly, put on his clothes.
When he was dressed, he looked at Marlene. His eyes were still dull. "I may go now, Fraulein Director?"
"You may, Herr Gunther," said Marlene. "Expect a telephone call from me in about five or six weeks' time."
He bowed to her and, taking no notice of Erika, walked out of the living-room towards the door of the flat. He walked slowly and very stiffly.
A pity, thought Marlene. He interrupted us too soon. Never mind, though. I'll poke her in Paris tomorrow. But what a waste! She was so much in the mood. She would have accepted anything-even a whipping.
What a pity, said Erika to herself. Things were going so well. We might have gone to the bed to fondle each other a little. And she might-she just might-have wanted to whip me a little. It would have been such heaven! Nevermind. Perhaps she'll do it in Paris-or London or wherever else we're going. Oh God! I'd love to be whipped by her. Not very much, of course. But I'd love her to do it a little-particularly if she'd wear this cape while she's doing it. And it seems that she loves rubber for its own sake, thank God. And she's a sadist. So it's almost certain that she'll whip me soon, and it's just as certain that she'll be wearing something of rubber when she does it. But it's an awful pity that damned man had to interrupt us tonight.
Marlene said: "You'll have to telephone for another plane reservation."
"Don't worry, Fraul-er-Marlene. I'll do it on my way home. I'll call at the air company's office. It's open all night."
"Are you able to leave at such short notice?"
"Oh yes. Oh yes, of course."
"No parents to consult?"
"Well, I have parents-but I don't have to consult them about my movements." She smiled. "After all, I'm going on a business trip with my boss, aren't I?"
Marlene laughed. "You are, indeed. All right. Just go over to the divan and choose two or three things that take your own fancy-and then take them home and pack them in your bags. And then I'll do the same thing."
"Will you be taking that lovely cape?"
"Oh yes, of course. And some other rubber things that you haven't seen yet. I think you'll like them."
3
The taxi drove out of the gates of the airport and headed for the centre of Paris.
"I'm so glad," said Erika, "that they didn't open our bags. I was on tenterhooks, though, for some moments. I thought that that young customs man was going to."
"Would it have mattered?" said Marlene, settling herself comfortably into her corner. "Have you got something that's dutiable?"
Erika turned to her in surprise. "The whips and things! I put them very carefully at the bottom, under a lot of clothes, but he might have found them if he'd opened the bag and put his hand underneath."
"Why shouldn't he have found them? They're not dutiable."
'You mean you wouldn't mind them being seen?