Whatever your fetish, whatever your fantasy, you have only to knock on the window and ask. The Herbertstrasse (theme tune: I Can Give You Anything But Love, Baby) can cope. And it was to the Herbertstrasse, two miles from the center with the precise verticals of its buildings bordering the lakeside lawns of the Alster, that Susan Templar was brought shortly after Lisa and her companions had received their telephone call from the mysterious Elsa.
Shivering with apprehension, her arms tightly held by Heinz and Klaus, the kidnapped girl followed the sadistic blonde along the rain-wet street and across the crowded, traffic-jammed width of the Reeperbahn. Because it was the season of Fasching, there was a special Bavarian night at the Zillertal and the sidewalks were reeling with drunken, perspiring southerners, red-faced and paunchy, some of them in costume and many wearing domino masks. Through this walpurgisnacht of shrill laughter, bawdy pleasantries and beery breath, the frightened teenager was hustled, past the barriers, past the men with calculating eyes, into the rose-red street – which tonight wore a festive, almost a family air of relaxation. They hurried to the door of one of the houses in the cul-de-sac. The picture windows were brightly lit but there were no girls sitting on display behind them. Lisa's knock was answered at once by a tall, big-breasted woman.
She nodded to the blonde German girl and said briefly: "Upstairs. Number six on the second floor."
"Thanks, Elsa," Lisa said.
Beckoning to her companions and their captive, she began to climb a narrow staircase at the back of the hallway.
"Isn't Stefan here?" Klaus asked as they mounted behind her.
Lisa shook her head. "He went to collect the green Volks. Heinrich brought it up from Siegsdorff today. We're going to meet at his studio later in Oldenburg. But Stefan should be here in a few minutes."
"I hope so," Heinz said. "Because we're going to need him for…"
"Don't worry," the blonde cut in. "It's all taken care of."
They led Susan into a small room stuffy with central heating. There was a low divan covered with black satin against one wall. Two chairs, an old-fashioned wardrobe, a washbasin and bidet behind a screen, and several large mirrors completed the furnishings. A table lamp with a red bulb was the only illumination. Lisa opened the wardrobe and took out a black leather corset with trailing laces, a pair of high-heeled knee boots, and a black papier-mache face mask with elastic ear-pieces.
"Put these on," she ordered.
Susan's face was a study in bewilderment. "But I don't understand," she began tearfully.
"How many times do I have to tell you – you don't have to understand!" the blonde snapped. "Take off your clothes and put those on!"
Repressing a sob, the voluptuous young brunette reluctantly undressed and drew on the black boots. When they were tight enough for Lisa's satisfaction, she stood helplessly in the hot room, her softly curved body gleaming whitely in the seductive light, while they laced her into the form-fitting waist corsette. Finally, Lisa handed her the mask.
"Why do I have to…?" Susan faltered.
"Will you do what you're told! All you have to do it follow our instructions. I've explained already: there's a certain client of this establishment we wish to compromise. All you need to know is that! You're dressed like this, and you're to wear that mask, because it's the season of Fasching… it's the custom to dress up in the south, and they follow it here during this week as a sop to their clients from that part of the country."
"But why me? Why must I…?"
"Because the client likes a new girl each time he comes and you happen to be the type he likes. If you do what you're told, you can buy your way out of this – pay your ransom if you like – and we'll let you go. If not…"
The blonde nodded towards Heinz. The lean-faced youth had taken a wicked-looking, short-barreled revolver from his pocket. Susan gasped with fright as he broke the gun, spun the cylinder, and inserted six cartridges into the chambers.
"I'll be right here," he said menacingly, going to the wall and tapping a moulding above one of the mirrors.
They took the trembling girl into the adjoining room and showed her how there was a spy hole commanding the whole of the room they had just left.
"The gun'll be pointing through this gap," Heinz said bleakly, opening the shutter concealing the hole. "I'll be standing here the whole time, watching. And if you take one wrong step – if you breathe a word to the client – there's a slug for each of you! We won't hesitate to kill him too."
Lisa held up a hand for silence. Outside in the passageway, there was the sound of footsteps, a man's voice, a laugh from Elsa, the soft closing of a door.
"Right – you know what you have to do," the blonde whispered. "You go on in there and you do exactly what the man says. Exactly. If you do it right, we'll let you go. If not…"
She left the sentence unfinished and again jerked her head at Heinz, drawing a hand across her throat in a gruesome gesture. Heinz stuck an unlit cigarette between his lips and nodded towards the door.
"Away you go!" he said.
They took the bewildered teenager back into the corridor, opened the door of the room they had first been in, and pushed her inside. The door closed softly behind her. She stood shuddering with anticipation. There was a pile of clothes on one of the chairs now and a naked man bending over them. He was tall, lean and muscular, with a down of dark hairs tracing the course of his spine. Beyond the taut curve of his hip, she could see the rigid staff of his penis jutting from the vee of wiry pubic hair at his loins like a thick quivering arrow. The bulbous, purple head was already emerging from the foreskin. As he heard the girl enter he swung round to face her and Susan repressed a gasp of petrified amazement.
The man whose whims she was there to serve was her own father! She was aghast, stunned, speechless with horror. Behind the mask, which covered her face from brow to upper lip, she blanched. What in God's name was he doing here? Did they know? Had he recognized her? The last question was answered at once, for he moved towards her, his rigidly erect cock wagging from side to side above the sperm-bloated pouch of his testicles, with a lustful expression on his face that she had never seen before.
"Very nice!" he said caressingly, reaching out his hand to cup the full globe of one breast as it swelled seductively above the leather corset. "Elsa always did know just what I wanted!"
Susan recoiled away from his familiar touch with a shudder of disgust. This mustn't happen, she thought wildly. It mustn't! But how could she possibly stop it, knowing that Heinz and his gun were so near? Her heart thudding in her chest, she sat weakly on the divan. Feasting his eyes lustfully on the triangle of silky hair at her loins, Colonel Templar took his penis in one hand and began skimming the loose skin rapidly up and down the throbbing shaft.
"Come on then," he said hoarsely. "You know what to do. Let's get down to it, baby."
Behind her disguise, the girl stared at him piteously.
"G-g-g-get down to it?" she repeated in a quavering voice.
What on earth was she supposed to do? What sexual technique was she supposed to know?