Death is a Service Rendered

"Which is?"

"They're going to catch on that it might be me."

There was a longer pause this time. Piers waited, then finally spoke.

"I need your help Brian. I mean serious help."

"Talk to Catherine, leave me out of it."

"I already have. She wanted me to ask you to help long before this. I've been putting it off. I can't anymore."

"What's the rush. I'm assuming by the way that it wasn't you. Was it. Did something go wrong Piers..."

Brian's voice started to sound louder and a little panicked and Piers hastily interrupted.

"No Brian, not me. But whoever did it, they know me, they are planting clues. And maybe..." He trailed off, trying to decide if he needed to play his last card to hook Brian into helping him.

"Maybe, what?"

"If the Police don't appear to be taking an interest in me, maybe I'm next on the list?"

Another long silence passed between them.

"What do you need from me."

"I need to show a policeman how a real dungeon works."

*

Brian looked and sounded nervous. Not because he had a policeman in his private club, he had seen plenty of those up to Assistant Chief Constable level albeit decidedly out of uniform, but because of the reason DI Grave was there. He kept looking over at Piers. If Ross had taken any notice, he wasn't showing it.

"I'm not in the sex crimes unit Sir. This is just me at the invitation of Mr Fellowes here. He thought it might help. I hope this isn't inconvenient."

"Not at all Mr Grave."

DI Grave smiled and chose not to correct him.

"I... I mean Piers and I thought that the best thing would be to invite you to a munch... a meeting if you like of a local BDSM group. They meet here informally about once a month. I chose this one, as the organiser is also using the private dungeon later on for a party. I need his permission so you can be there and he wanted to meet with you first."

"With Mr Fellowes?"

"No, he knows Piers, it's the only reason he even contemplated it. But he still wants to meet you."

As Ross looked over, Piers nodded.

It's an acquaintance of mine. I knew... in fact trained... an early submissive of his."

"Will she be there" said Ross, worried that it might end up being a re-union and so pointless for his purposes.

"No, he's probably on his umpteenth sub by now. And anyway, I don't think he's going to participate tonight."

Brian shook his head.

"Actually, once he heard you and Mr Grave were going to be there, he changed his mind." Brian looked at his watch. "If you would like to wait here, Bo' will take you up when they've arrived."

A few minutes later, Ross and Piers were escorted back up to the café. It was closed for normal business and the tables and chairs have been replaced by soft leather sofas and coffee tables which had somehow been produced from the back storeroom. Already, three people were sitting and chatting. One, a small and skeletally thin man with close cropped black hair and equally cropped beard rose up when he spotted Piers.

"Oh my GOOD friend! Brian said you would be coming. What a pleasure, what a treat. What a delight!"

His tones were light and rhythmical, as if he were remembering the poetry lessons of his schooldays. With exaggerated arm movements and a twisting of the body he called down to his friends.

"Please, please let me introduce Piers to you all. He is a legend. A legend. Come, come, shake his hand!"

At the same time, as Piers approached the sofas, he waved to Ross without looking at him.

"Sit here."

These were the only two words he directed to Ross for much of the evening that was to come. Ross, looking uncomfortable in civilian jeans and jacket, folded himself into one of the sofas and tried out a smile. He vowed to keep quiet whenever possible. The woman he sat next to smiled at him but turned her attention to Piers when he sat opposite.

"Oh, we know Piers, don't we Jay?"

The other companion was a tall, young and balding man who merely nodded.

"You have the advantage I'm afraid. By the way, this is a colleague of mine, Ross."

"I'm sorry. My name is Mistress Cello, like the instrument, but please call me Maddy. And this is my boy, Tristram."

They all shook hands.

Mistress Cello was fat. Poured as she was into a flowery dress set off with the shiniest red shoes Ross had ever seen outside of the vice squad cupboard. She had none of the usual reserve of the newly introduced. Her hair was cropped short and the purest white. If Ross had to guess, she would be in her 40's. He was taken by complete surprise and into shocked silence when she suddenly buried her nose into the shoulder of his only informal jacket and announced:

"Oh, lovely, I do like the smell of a man in a proper leather jacket. Don't you think so too?

This was directly said into Ross's eyes such that he couldn't recoil without seeming to be rude. It was an instinctive reaction. And he had no reply other than a weak smile.

Piers grinned at Ross's discomfiture and turned his attention to the host.

"So tell me Quinn, what delights have you been indulging in since we last met."

One of Piers' tricks of his trade was to conjure up some of the speaking tones of the person he was speaking to. Not enough to mock them, just enough to put them at ease. Ross glanced up, recognising the style. It had been used on him too. But Ross was being distracted by the incessant questions put to him by the impressive lady next to him. Even though, before he could answer, she was answering them herself.

Quinn perched on the edge of the sofa directly next to Ross so that the latter felt hemmed in and a little claustrophobic. Nevertheless, Quinn continued to ignore him and talked to Piers.

"To be honest dear man, I have had very little time to myself. Spent most of my time in that horrible little flat of Mother's in town. I've been having the cottage done up." This last comment brought on a beaming smile that if anything made his thin face look even more fleshless.

"Ah, I take it that the probate arrangements of her Will were eventually sorted out. You had a problem I remember?"

The smile was lost briefly, only to return a moment later.

"Well, it's all sorted now. But let me tell you about what I'm doing to the cottage!"

Quinn clapped his hands on his knees and settled into his favourite subject of the moment. Essentially, he had inherited what he called a cottage, but was in fact an old Mill in Berkshire but converted 30 years ago into a large house. Much in need of refurbishment, he used the money Mother had left him to do what she should have done years earlier. Turned it into a comfortable home.

"Ah, but I have improved it my dear, improved it!"

Piers could guess, for Quinn had spoken of nothing else but his plans the last time they met.

"The wheel room perhaps?" said Piers with a grin.

"Exactly, you must come and see it, I have kept and re-used the original wheel, ironwork and millstone. And of course, found a sweet man from the Council who knew all about historic mill buildings and was able to help me restore the transmission strapping and ropes to their original condition. The whole thing is a joy, my dear, a joy."

Ross, who had kept half an ear to Quinn, tried to engage in the conversation, if only to distract from the chattering on his other side.

"Really, and are you going to bring it back into use as a flour mill?

Quinn looked down on DI Grave, puzzled, then exploded into laughter.

"No dear man, no, no, it's to TIE people to and FLOG them my dear!"

Piers grinned at him. Ross coloured and vowed again to keep quiet.

All this time, people would drift into the café until there was hardly space to stand. Quinn looked at his watch, stood up and clapped his hands.

"Attention everyone please. For all those who are new to our little Munch, can you please make yourselves known to me. The rest, please make your way downstairs to the usual room where you will find some complimentary refreshments and cake. Please make liberal use of our host's bar facilities this evening as well. Oh, and can I as usual collect your subscriptions downstairs before we begin!"

As he spoke, the regulars moved and noisily made their way to the stairs whilst others moved towards Quinn. Piers stood up, took Ross by the shoulder and directed him downstairs.

*

About half an hour later, the evening had settled down into its routine. The establishment had a full suite of fully equipped dungeons and playrooms. As a regular event, most of the thirty or so people who had turned out, disappeared into several of the private spaces; already prepared for their entertainment. They wouldn't be seen until later in the bar, flushed, sated, thirsty and in some cases, unable to sit down for a while.

Piers explained that there was to be a public demonstration for newbies; people new to the BDSM lifestyle. These were held rarely but, apart from DI Grave, there were a couple of new people who Quinn thought would appreciate a light evening as an introduction. Ross looked around the room. Apart from himself, Piers and Quinn there were four others, plus Bo'. Ross was surprised to find that she had changed into a floral dress and school shoes which certainly didn't match her cropped and purple dyed hair or presaged by the casual torn jeans and t-shirt he saw her in earlier. Piers whispered to Ross that Bo' often helped out with the newbie demonstrations.

Two of the other four were a couple. A tall and very beautiful young girl with an older man in perhaps his late thirties, slim, expensively but casually dressed and handsome. They both looked like they could have modelled, though Ross noticed that the girl had bitten fingernails and a slight air of nervousness, whilst the man looked as though he was pretending to be cool about where they were, but managing just to look equally nervous.

The other two were women who were clearly here on their own. However, at the start, the older woman, attractive and obviously self-confident, made a bee-line for the younger girl, an olive skinned, black haired student-type if Ross had to guess. Gratefully, the younger girl spoke with her and before long, was clearly making friends.

Quinn, as master of ceremonies, began to speak.

"Friends, welcome to our little demonstration this evening. I know that we have some first timers here today and as such I assume that this has been a big step for you." He glanced at Piers, aware that some of what he was saying he had first heard from Piers as a teacher to his pupil. Re-assured that Piers was not going to interfere, he moved on.

"So, can I ask, without giving me any details, for there's no need, if you have done your research before you came... do I need to explain what you are here to be entertained with?"

With nervous laughs and smiles, the group assented.

"In that case, for this event, can I say that there is only one other rule. What I say is to be done, is to be done. No exceptions. If anyone disobeys you will be asked to leave. Is that acceptable?" All nodded.

"In that case, can I also introduce you to Mr Piers Fellowes". Quinn gestured and Piers smiled a greeting.

"Mr Fellowes graces us with his presence this evening and it is a rare event. I would suggest ladies and gentlemen that you find some time to speak with Piers before you leave and take his card. If you intend to enter the Lifestyle as a commitment rather than as a hobby, I suggest you use his services. I have, and there is no-one better."

Piers smiled at the compliment, though the last thing he needed at the moment were sales introductions.

"We will have two scenes this evening, a basic control and punishment scene which will take only about 15 minutes, then a longer and more advanced scene I have devised at the request of Mr Fellowes. This will involve more complex restraint, control and electrical play. But I warn you now, it is for demonstration purposes only. I strongly suggest that you seek more training and experience before attempting the latter type of entertainment. I mean it; it can be dangerous if not undertaken properly."

As if on cue, from one of the other rooms the sound of a prolonged scream came muffled through the clearly inadequate sound-proofing. Everyone looked sharply to the door, then slowly a laugh built up, more in relief than humour.

Quinn grinned his skeletal smile. "I really must remember to organise that the next time, very effective!" Further nervous laughter rippled around until Quinn raised his hand to continue in silence.

"But my manners are terrible. Of course, I must introduce you to our assistant tonight, the very willing and totally submissive Bo'" He gestured towards the odd sight in the corner of a wickedly smiling Bo' in a demure dress. She curtsied, adding to the absurd theatricality, Ross thought.

Ross also wondered why he hadn't been introduced. He didn't like the thought that Quinn was misleading his guests who might baulk at a policeman being present. On the other hand, he was a little glad of the anonymity. He didn't want this little trip ending up in the local papers... or around the station mess-room for that matter.

Quinn gestured and Bo' reached back, brought out a simple wooden backed chair and walked to the centre of the room. Piers reached for the wall and dimmed all the room lights except for three spotlights, centred on the carefully placed chair. Ross involuntarily licked his lips and then felt ashamed of the action. At a further gesture from Quinn, the audience, and Quinn, moved back against the darkened walls, their faces hidden from view. Only Bo' stood visible, oddly vulnerable in the spotlight, standing next to the chair, one hand lightly touching the top rail, one leg bent, one hand to her mouth, staring into the darkness.

Ross immediately felt a great respect for Bo'. Somehow, she had changed her character; not excessively, just a little gesture and stance that somehow induced in Ross a shiver of a kind he didn't think he liked.

Quinn spoke from the shadows.

"Bo'"

"Yes Master Quinn"

"Why have you been sent to me girl?"

"I... I don't know Master Quinn, really, I'm afraid I..." Quinn interrupted, his voice harsher, and to Ross's ears, less affected."

"Quiet girl, afraid is EXACTLY the right word for it. You are to be punished."

Piers whispered very quietly in Ross's ear.

"He is shortening the scene, the build-up would normally be slower, more... well, more sensual. Remember, this is not a porno, it's real."

Slowly, over the next few minutes, Quinn moved about the audience, touching a shoulder here, smiling at the nervous there. But all the time he spoke to Bo', he nevertheless looked in the eyes of his audience, who stared unblinking at the centre of the room nonetheless. Quinn was telling Bo' that there was a fate to come, but the words were said directly into the ears of her witnesses.

Quinn grasped at the arms of the handsome man and showed him the way to hold out his arms a little, like a cradle. He spoke without looking to the girl.

"Remove your clothes Bo', carefully, I want to see them neatly folded, just as you were taught, and placed in the arms of this gentleman behind you. Beware Bo', beware, not a glance into his eyes my dear."

Bo' immediately looked to the side and folded her arms across her shoulders. She looked genuinely fearful and embarrassed, but not overstated. To Ross, he might have been watching one of those schoolgirls he often saw in Court, caught up in a petty crime not of her making but of her so-called friends; her distraught parents nearby; her embarrassment and shame palpable to the magistrate.

Slowly, she grasped at the straps of her dress and lowered it to the floor revealing oddly un-erotic white panties and bra. She bent down with knees slightly to one side and carefully folded the dress. The man behind her squeaked and then tried to cover the noise with a short cough. His companion glared and nudged at him. Quinn put his finger to his mouth until they became still.

The girl (Ross had stopped thinking of her as Bo') placed the dress on the chair, reached down and slipped off her shoes. Her feet were bare and the shoes were placed side by side on top of the dress, soles upwards. She shrugged off her bra with grace and then lowered her panties. These too were placed carefully and neatly folded on the pile of clothing. She then carefully picked the bundle up and walked over to the man with the unmoving outstretched arms and placed the bundle into them. She never once looked up. He never once took his eyes off her body.

Ross noticed that the girl, however humble, had consciously showed how neatly her breasts hung firmly from her shoulders, how pale and sparse were the hairs of her sex and armpits and how delicate was the roundness of her buttocks. The older women near him clasped the hand of her new friend. He noticed that the younger girl did not resist.

Chapter 13

Later, in the bar with the other chattering and happy people and with Quinn and Lady Cello holding court, Piers and Ross retired to a corner table to discuss the evening's events.

Ross held his ridiculously expensive beer as if it was a lifeline and looked very uncomfortable.

"So what was the point of that Piers, I mean, it all looked a bit staged...and by poor actors at that. We, you, were all just a bunch of pervs in that room you know."

Piers waited for him to finish. Ross needed time to pass through all the stages, quickly, of all newbies introduced to the Lifestyle; especially if, as he suspected, Ross wasn't a natural for it. First there would be tight lipped and folded arm resistance to watching the humiliation or sexual taunting of others, then there would be horrified fascination, then guilt as they became aroused, then rejection of their own feelings, then an attempt at humour to disassociate themselves from those feelings in the presence of others and then anger at being manipulated.

Normally, Piers would take such people aside, say the Lifestyle wasn't for them and move them on. But Piers needed Ross to get to a place where he could rationalise what he had seen and be of use to the case as a result.

"Ross, I didn't bring you here to catch a quick thrill, Focus my friend."

"On what, I can't see any of that helping us, and apart from anything else, that wand thingy Quinn was using on Bo' looked more like a fucking reject from the Star Trek props department. Made me laugh more than anything else, I mean, do people pay good money for that stuff."

"Forget that for a minute. Look, in that first session, if you had to stand up in court and read from your notes to a Judge, how would you have described the scene?"

Ross opened his mouth to have another rant, Piers held him by the arm and whispered fiercely. "No wisecracks, no judgements, nothing but facts Ross, I mean it, or we really have wasted our time here."

Ross flinched dangerously, then relaxed and remembered that Piers was good at his job, and that he was expecting Ross to be good at his. Calmer, he nodded.

"You're right. I need to get something out if this. Ok.

"I suppose I would have said something like... well I saw a young girl acting.. or maybe seeming to be acting in a sexual roleplay where she was stripped naked, sat down on the chair and was made to perform various sexual acts."

"That's a bit coy Ross, come on, I'm sure the Judge can take it..."

"Fuck off Piers, what do you want me to say?"

"What was she actually doing."

Ross coloured again, but resumed.

"She was told to fondle her breasts, teased them out for inspection by each person in the room; and then she... well she masturbated as everyone watched... and that was it."

"So, that's what the Judge would have been told eh? Apart from giving him a hard-on, what good would that description have been to him."