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She began to feel very sadistic again. She put her hands to her breasts, underneath her silk nightdress, and caressed them as she day-dreamed. She wished that there were some deep cellar to the house which she could transform into a real torture chamber. She would have rings set in the ceiling and she would string Per Petersen up to them. She would whip him back and front with the wire cat-o'-nine-tails until he fainted. She might even keep him locked up in her torture chamber for a whole week, after having made him announce to his office and his household that he was going away somewhere for the week. She could have a burning brazier in which she could heat branding-irons, and she could brand him with red-hot irons on whatever part of his body she desired. His bottom would be a wonderful place…

She sighed, and then shook her head a little crossly. Such ideas were very stupid. They could never be put into practice. She should be satisfied-more than satisfied-with the situation as it was. She had her own personal masochist under her thumb. She could whip him whenever she wanted.

That was quite enough. She must stop these stupid thoughts of torture chambers and branding irons.

She began to consider again where she could buy a whip, or whips, in Kiel. A shop, perhaps, that sold dog-leads. Sometimes leads were made in the form of whips. Yes, that was the best idea. She would go down to Kiel immediately after breakfast.

3

In a small hotel in the centre of Kiel, the blonde and the red-head woke up and sent at once for a newspaper.

After leaving the Baron Franz-Ruller on the back seat of his Rolls-Royce at the side of the road, they had walked quickly into the small township, found the station, and taken the first train out. It had been going away from Kiel, but they had not minded. Their main idea was to get away from that neighbourhood as fast as they could. They had stayed on the train for an hour or so, and had got out at the small town of Sachs. They found a small hotel and, still exhausted by the violence of their activities and the subsequent fear of being arrested for them, went to bed at once. They slept late the next morning, had a leisurely lunch, and travelled back to Kiel on an evening train. They bought a newspaper at the station and read the story of the flogging, by a number of unidentified men, of the Baron Franz-Ruller.

Feeling considerably relieved, they telephoned their friend Margarete Hansen at the house of Per Petersen. They learned that she had already gone to bed. They found a small hotel in the centre of the town, registered themselves, left their rucksacks in their bedroom, and went out to have a late supper.

They would telephone Margarete again the next morning. And they would have another look at the next newspaper to make certain that they were still in the clear.

There was a knock on their door. A young and good- looking porter came into the room and handed the newspaper to the red-head.

"Thank you," she said. "And will you please send up two breakfasts?"

When the porter had gone she looked carefully through the newspaper. "No," she said at last, "there's nothing at all about him today. So we're quite safe."

"I'd like to take that one's trousers down," said the blonde.

"Whose?"

"That porter's."

The red-head snorted. "At this time of the morning, for God's sake!"

"What's wrong with this time of the morning? I feel fresh. And I feel randy."

"You're always randy."

"And you're always sadistic."

"Not at this time of the morning."

"I don't believe you. Wouldn't you like to give him a little whipping? Or a little penetrating with your dildo?"

The red-head frowned at her and made no reply.

"Be honest with yourself," persisted the blonde.

"Well," said the other, smiling in spite of herself, "it mightn't be altogether unpleasant. He is rather handsome, I must admit."

The blonde got out of bed. "Let's see what can be done about it, when he conies back with breakfast."

"If he comes back with breakfast. It may be a chambermaid."

"Then we'll send for another newspaper."

"You're quite awful. Absolutely shameless."

"So are you."

The red-head grinned. "Yes, I am. And it is rather a good idea-the more I think of it. In spite of being so early in the morning."

"It'll set us up for the day nicely. But I think we'd better make ourselves as enticing as we can." The red-head got out of bed. "Yes. I think we ought to be in bras and panties. Nothing else." She went to the mirror, combed her hair, touched up her face. Then she took off her night-dress and slipped into her panties and brassiere.

The blonde followed her example. "I think he'll bring up the breakfast himself, whether there's a chambermaid for the job or not. Didn't you see the way he gave us a sort of I- wish-I-were-there-in-bed-with-you look?"

There was a knock at the door. "We'll see now," said the red-head, and called: "Come in."

It was the young porter. He came into the room bearing a large tray and widened his eyes as he saw the two girls in their flimsy underwear. "I beg your pardon," he said. "I thought I heard you say come in."

"You did," said the blonde, shutting the door behind him. "Put the tray down there. Why do you apologise?"

He hesitated, his eyes on her naked stomach. "Er-well, I didn't know you weren't dressed, Fraulein."

"It doesn't matter to us," she said. "Does it to you? Are you shocked or something?"

"Oh no, Fraulein. Not at all."

"You don't object to seeing girls in their undies, then?"

He still stood with the tray in his hands. He frowned a little, wondering why she was teasing him. He put the tray down on a table. "No, Fraulein," he said quietly. "I like it." He felt his penis erecting.

She smiled. "I know you do."

"How?"

She nodded her head at his trousers. "I can see it there."

He blushed. "I don't know what you mean, Fraulein."

"Don't you?" she said, and went up close to him. She put her hands to his fly-buttons and undid them.

He stood as though transfixed, his eyes moving from the blonde to the red-head and back again to the blonde. He felt her cool fingers feel for, and find, his stiff penis. She pulled it out of his trousers. Then she put her hand round his testicle- bag and brought that out too.

"How would you like," she said softly, "to put me on the bed and make love to me?"

He swallowed. "I'd love it," he said, incredulously. He could not believe that this was happening to him. He glanced again at the red-head and saw that she was regarding him with burning eyes. He looked back at the blonde and wondered whether he should put his arms round her. He decided against it, and stood quite still, his genitals seeming to melt with the sensation of her cool dancing fingers.

"Tell me," said the red-head. "Are these other rooms occupied?" She nodded to the two walls of the bedroom.

"Only one is, Fraulein," he replied. "And it will be empty in ten minutes. The bags have already gone down. But why do you ask?"

"Are you prepared to pay our price?" said the blonde.

"Price, Fraulein? What do you mean?"

"Our price to allow you to make love to me, of course."

His spirits sank. He frowned. "Oh, I didn't realise."