Chapter Eleven

The quiet breathing all around the darkened room was regular and steady, and Susie judged that all the girls were asleep. The crack of light under the dormitory door had been extinguished for half an hour or more.

She had learned a lot earlier over the evening meal, and discovered not only that the butch Savage took whomever she chose to her bed each night, but that most of the girls had ended up at the commune as strays. They’d either been picked up on some or other station concourse, or in night-clubs, or sleeping on street corners. All had the same things in common - they were young, they were attractive, and they were runaways.

And they were asleep.

Susie was afraid and she wanted to stay where she was, safe in the snug bed. But she also wanted to find Sophie; all the girls were basically acting as prostitutes, pure and simple, and she had to save Sophie from such a corrupt regime. When told to have sex with someone they did so without question, believing they were helping to fund the community in which they lived and enrich their lives and that of their clients with pleasure - the principle upon which the cult was founded.

But it was clear to Susie that Raoul was making a huge amount of money from prostitution and drugs, and these poor inmates were little more than white slaves. Though it was exactly the sensational scoop story she’d dreamed about since her teens, she was more scared for Sophie’s sake than eager for her own. And presumably her little sister had already been through the unusual instruction course of acceptance to which she had submitted that morning, and witnessed something similar to what she had that afternoon.

After a frugal communal lunch, Susie and the group had made their way back to the same room, where she joined them by sitting cross-legged on the floor, the unyielding surface against her poor bottom making her wince. After a few minutes of waiting in silence, Savage watching imperiously over them, there was a suppressed buzz as Raoul entered, and addressed them.

More instruction about the ‘work’ of the sect followed and Susie sat through it acutely conscious of the dull throb in her buttocks. Initially she was able to listen to very little of what was said, such was the distraction of the aftermath of her beating, though she did hear from Raoul that the class would be meeting ‘sponsors’, to ‘entertain’ them in the ways of the New Believers.

This latter credo, the essential belief by which the New Believers lived and worshipped, was explained with his mellow voice pitched low and level, relying on his accent and pronunciation to give his words colour while the actual tone was a hypnotic drone. His eyes roamed around the room as he spoke but they always returned to Susie, observing the way she nibbled her lip and fidgeted distractedly.

‘We believe we are given life to enjoy. We are here to make best of all the lord’s gifts. To enjoy all pleasures he created. All pleasures, in all things. We believe we must begin here,’ he touched his chest with an open palm and spread fingers, ‘in our own body.’

As she listened, Susie could feel herself growing more and more flustered, the tenderness in her buttocks exciting her.

‘What you learn here will show you how to enjoy maximum pleasure of your body,’ continued Raoul, and Susie surreptitiously rocked on her bottom, wishing she could slip her fingers into her dampening panties.

‘You must learn to love yourself without shame,’ he said, looking directly into her eyes. ‘Not to be afraid of your needs.

‘Another goal,’ he went on, ‘is to learn the best way to enjoy giving pleasure to others. It is,’ he said simply, ‘the highest form of service.’ Such was the impact of his personality and his voice that Susie wanted to believe him. She was sure the others did believe him. ‘And so you will use the gifts the lord has given you, your young and fruitful bodies, in his service.’

Susie knew he was telling them to have sex with whomever he ordered.

Raoul’s gaze bore deep into her eyes, and they seemed to blaze encouragement, making her rock her hips with a little more energy, but not so much as anybody else seemed to notice.

At that moment Raoul had won something, Susie sensed it; some kind of victory in a battle between the two of them which only he seemed to understand. But he didn’t mind her knowing that he’d won, and that confidence, that absolute self-assurance, was the truly frightening thing about him. She was suddenly completely in his power, and they both knew it.

And his power, in his building, among his community, was absolute.

As he continued to address the group in that compelling voice, Raoul was at his persuasive best as he extolled the virtues of community living. His message, simplified in the extreme, was nothing more than ‘all for one and one for all’. Meaning they were all there to be used by anyone, and anyone could use all of them. Especially his ‘sponsors’. Most of his teaching and philosophy was aimed at persuading those who were listening that they could safely ignore all conventional morality on the subject of monogamy and sex, and that once sex was disassociated from morality it became nothing more than a source of unequalled pleasure.

‘This I can prove.’ He nodded to the stocky Savage, and she pulled a beautiful dark-haired girl, with deep brown eyes and a sultry mouth, to stand before them. Raoul guided her to the wooden horse and helped her to sit on the edge, and lay her on her back, feet lifted and placed in the stirrups before being tied there. The girl’s dress slithered smoothly down her raised and parted thighs, exposing the white panties stretched tightly over her delicate mound.

From an inside pocket of his baggy tunic Raoul took a white plastic vibrator. He raised it for all to see, and there were hushed whisperings around the room. Susie saw the bound girl watch it with wide eyes, and then hold her breath as the object slowly lowered, hovered between her parted thighs, buzzed quietly into life, and then touched the delicate material of her panties cosseting her downy pubis within. She gasped lightly and closed her eyes.

Raoul teased cruelly, gently rubbing the tip of the vibrator against the girl, and Susie felt her insides melt with excitement as she saw the white of the girl’s panties darken prettily with moisture as she became clearly turned on by what he was doing to her.

Susie could understand exactly what the girl was experiencing and felt herself joining in, growing more and more aroused by the erotic display. Watching the elusive movements of the vibrator, Susie understood the need that drove the circling movements of the girl’s hips as they searched for it, looking for resistance to press against. Susie could barely breathe as the tiny buzz finally drove the girl into a frenzy, the steady circling now over as she lost her rhythm and her hips made desperate stabs in an attempt to capture the vibrator.

Then, in an undisciplined act she reached between her thighs and actually gripped Raoul’s wrists. He calmly stopped his ministrations, as though expecting her lack of self-control, and waited while Savage raised her strap and lashed it down across the girl’s stomach, her muscles strained as she lifted her hips higher off the horse in her quest to be penetrated by the humming plastic. She shrieked and rolled her head and immediately removed her hands from Raoul. But to intensify the message, the futility of such indiscipline, Savage beat the girl across the stomach twice more, before stepping back and leaving Raoul to continue his tortuous teasing of her.

And Susie felt an overpowering empathy with his lovely victim; a bond between two girls who, though not touching each other nor connected in any way, were about to share the same moment of release, one of them driven by the movements of the vibrator and the other by watching.

And so it was. As the constant buzzing between her legs finally brought the girl to climax, making her hips jerk in time with her squeals of release, Susie could hold back no longer, but no one noticed as she shuddered quietly and her breasts rose as she filled her lungs and held her breath, silently savouring the delicious moment...

Still listening with ears tuned to the silence beyond the steady breathing of her sleeping companions, Susie rolled off her bed and landed lightly on her feet. Her movements made no sound, and the rhythmic breathing around her didn’t change. Her eyes were accustomed to the night and she could make out the inky shapes to avoid as she crept across the floor to the door, and managed to open it, slip out, and close it again without disturbing anyone.

She stood perfectly still on the landing, slipping the thin white dress she’d carried with her over her head.

Moving lightly on tiptoe, she set off into the darkness with no real idea of where she was going - or where she could go. Heading along the landing in the opposite direction to where she’d been before she was moving towards uncharted territory. Uncharted, but hopefully where she’d find her sister.

A large door loomed out of the shadows, similar to the one she’d just left behind, and the sound of deep breathing confirmed it was another bedroom. In the darkness it was impossible to see if Sophie was among its occupants. In fact, it was impossible to tell if they were male or female. Disappointed, Susie turned and slipped back onto the landing, beginning to think the mission would be impossible without light and equally impossible with it, since she’d wake up the sleeping figures if she shone a torch in their faces. A torch which, in any case, she didn’t have.

Damn, she thought to herself, moving ahead on tiptoe, conscious of the press of her feet on the cold floor and the tenseness of the muscles in her legs as she tried to walk with stealth.

After a few moments, and after passing three more dormitory-type doors, the corridor came to an end - or did it? There was something in the darkness ahead; a faint luminous glow and she could see now that the passage turned at right angles, and the light was coming from somewhere beyond the corner.

She peeped around the edge, and the light was a little stronger. She would have to be extra careful and extra quiet. In the gloom she thought she could see a stairway going up, presumably to more bedrooms and bathrooms, and a stairway going down. Perhaps Sophie would be upstairs, or some type of clue as to her whereabouts would be evident, though she didn’t know what. Clutching at straws, she began to inch forward.

As she drew closer to the light and the stairwell she heard muffled voices, and shrank back against the wall, frozen with the terror of discovery but anxious to discover what she could. The tones were unmistakable: one of the voices was Raoul’s, and there was at least one more, interrupting briefly from time to time.

After a while Susie decided she would have to see what was going on, if she could. She slunk down onto the floor and inched along on her tummy to the wooden balustrade, until she could look down from a sort of balcony into a cosy sitting room with dark panelling and heavy velvet curtains, bookcases, a large fireplace, and scattered chairs around a large desk.

There were three men in suits. One of them, lounging back in his chair, was the black-tied Raoul with the ponytail. He had a sheet of paper in one hand and was reading from it aloud.

Sitting opposite, and watching him with a nervous stare was a portly man in a crumpled business suit, hanging on every word as if his life depended on it.

Sitting next to him the third occupant was large and well dressed, with a narrow face, dark hair and a confident air. Raoul was reciting figures, Susie realised now she was closer, and the little man was clearly worried by their meaning. She could only hear small snatches and phrases, but names and numbers were involved, and once she heard him say, ‘Should have been at least twice that,’ quite clearly.

Finally he stood up straight, slipped the sheet of paper into a desk drawer and closed it with a light snap.

‘You have failed me,’ he said, his voice louder and clearer now he was standing, and the man in front of him seemed to visibly shrink. ‘But you are human, and all humans make mistakes.’ The rotund man seemed to relax, just a little, at Raoul’s recognition and apparent acceptance of human deficiencies. Raoul smiled and signalled for him to stand too, the meeting clearly at an end, and the man rose, agitatedly fiddling to check his tie was straight as the third man also got to his feet. ‘But this was no mistake,’ Raoul added with undiluted menace, his smile gone in an instant as though someone had flicked a switch. ‘You stole from me.’

The little man’s eyes dulled and he raised his hands apologetically and defensively. ‘No... please, you don’t understand... I - ’ but with the speed of a snake striking the large man swept the edge of an open hand against the babbling man’s throat, silencing his pitiful remonstrations and making him crumple instantly to the floor.

Raoul looked down with utter contempt upon the heap on his carpet, and then said, ‘Deal with him. I don’t want to see his miserable face again... ever.’

Then, without a backward glance he walked calmly from the room, leaving the big man to pick up the unconscious heap and leave by a different door, switching off the light as he went and leaving the room bathed in the orange glow from the dying embers in the cavernous grate.

Susie felt light-headed and sick, her heart pounding in her chest. She lay perfectly still for several minutes, totally unable to believe what she’d just witnessed. She’d known Raoul was a villain, but his casual savagery was unexpected and terrifying and put a whole new complexion on everything. She’d known she was taking a risk in infiltrating the commune, but she’d never guessed the extent of the risk. What on earth should she do now to safeguard her safety, and Sophie’s safety?

Susie simply could not forget what she had just seen, or still the terror it induced. Now she realised what she was up against; not simply a religious freak with a penchant for lovely girls, Raoul really was the drug-trafficking white slaver she’d been dreaming of pinning to the front page of her newspaper with her undercover work. But now she’d found him it had all gone horribly wrong; he already had Sophie in his clutches and now she had willingly placed herself in his power as well. No wonder he’d looked so smug when she asked to join. She was trapped, and he knew it before she did. But at least, hopefully, he wasn’t aware of the professional reason for her being there. She shivered, knowing that should he discover that piece of knowledge the consequences for her would be absolutely dire. She just had to get away and expose him to the paper and the police. But how? It would be hard enough on her own and impossible to leave without Sophie, and she hadn’t even found her yet, never mind persuaded her to leave. If Sophie thought she was enjoying life in a religious cult she’d need some pretty convincing evidence to the contrary before she changed her mind.

Evidence!

Close by and in a desk drawer!

But it might as well be on the moon, she thought. After what she’d seen the last thing she fancied doing was going down there, and she wondered what on earth she was doing as she stood on unsteady legs and crept to the top of the stairs.

She stepped as lightly as she could on the area of each step nearest the wall, hoping they wouldn’t creak, hoping her pounding heart and snatched breaths wouldn’t wake every occupant of the grim house.

The shadowy distance across the room to the desk seemed vast, but she reached it without bumping into any furniture, and the desk drawer slid open silently and smoothly enough. The sheet of paper was in plain view, and she plucked it out with trembling fingers, shutting the drawer softly and flitting across the carpet and back towards the stairs on toes that hardly skimmed the floor.

Susie lay back in her narrow bed, relieved for the snug comfort and the relative security of the dormitory. Cocooned in the darkness she was able to let her muscles relax, but though her body was eased a little, her mind was still racing.

After snatching the sheet of paper she’d crept straight back to bed, pausing only briefly in a faint pool of light on the landing to squint at it at close quarters to see what she could read. It was a list of dates and numbers, which didn’t really seem to make any sense. But Raoul obviously thought the information to be important enough to warrant violence - and, it seemed, even worse - and so she hid it under her bedside cabinet, the only safe place she could think of.

In truth she couldn’t think about very much at all; her mind was preoccupied with what she’d witnessed from the landing. She’d known Raoul was a criminal but she hadn’t really seen the full picture until now. And now she realised she was dealing with a frighteningly cold, emotionless, ruthless person.

She also knew she and Sophie were in extreme danger, as were all the inmates; and that’s how she saw them - as inmates of a prison. She simply had to get away with Sophie and alert the authorities. That was her plan - her only option. The sheet of paper was vital evidence of some kind, but what she’d seen was even more important. If she’d been caught watching - she shuddered - well, it just didn’t bare thinking about. She’d no doubt have been dealt with just as the chubby man had been.

She would find Sophie - must find Sophie - and escape with her to safety.

And then she’d nail that bastard Raoul.

With that established as her plan of action she settled back in the hope of at last catching some vital sleep.