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Review This Story || Author: Michael Jaeggers

Honeymoon Hotel

Chapter 11

                               Chapter 11

     After an hour had passed and night had fallen, Dick knew he was 
hopelessly lost.  His loud shouts of "hello" brought no response.  He 
knew he would be safe if he could find the road, so he began walking in 
a direction that he thought would lead out of the woods.  Twice, in the 
stillness of the night, the sound of dogs came.  Once, he stumbled upon 
a herd of pigs and was forced to climb a tree to get away from an 
enraged boar.  The pig snorted and clawed the ground, and stared up with 
baleful red eyes.  Twice, its yellow tusks gleaming in the moonlight, 
the animal charged the tree.  A persistent bastard, it remained there 
for almost an hour.
     When it finally ambled off, so did Dick!
     It was almost eleven before he found the road and began walking.  
He had walked almost three miles before a black figure came hurtling out 
of the night at him.  He leaped aside and shouted, "You idiot.  You 
almost ran over me." The figure on a bicycle turned around to stare, 
then wobbled crazily, and crashed into the ditch.
     "Now, you see what you've done," the Irish voice complained.  
"You've wrecked me new bike.  And me wife will think I did it because of 
drink."
     Dick, feeling foolish because he had been half-frightened out of 
his wits, was immediately contrite.  "Look, I'm sorry.  I'm lost.  You 
seared hell out of me -- coming over the top of the hill that way, 
without lights.  I thought Old Nick had finally caught up with me."
     The Irishman rubbed the seat of his pants where he had landed after 
the crash.  He looked at Dick.  "You've a right to be worried about the 
Devil on this road.  He's been seen many the time by those who were 
sober." He shuddered, then bent down to pick up his wheel.  "It looks in 
fair shape.  Perhaps no harm's been done at that.  Where are ye bound 
this time of night?"
     "I'm lost.  I went hunting ... got separated from my party.  I'm 
staying at Castle Fleur."
     The Irishman tensed.  "Will then, I guess you have no need to fear 
the Devil.  Good night, sir."
     Dick was puzzled by the man's attitude, but he let it pass.  "Can 
you tell me how to get back?"
     The Irishman jerked his head in the direction Dick was headed.  
"Three miles up the road and turn to the right." He hesitated, then said 
in a more friendly manner, "And good luck to ye.  A friend of the 
owner's?"
     "No ... merely a guest.  Why?"
     The man took a deep breath and drew himself up; when he exhaled, it 
was obvious that he had been drinking.  "You look a bright lad.  Are you 
honeymooning?"
     "Yes."
     "Then take my advice and leave.  Strange things happen in that 
wicked place.  People complain of strange dreams in which the Devil 
takes part.  Only this spring a new bride of only four days leaped to 
her death from the towers.  And none of the local girls will work there.  
And more than one young couple has come together and departed separately 
... or much earlier than planned." He threw a leg over the bike's seat.  
"One thing I know, I'd never leave my bride there ... alone." He rode 
quickly off into the darkness.
     Dick stared after him.  What a lot of nonsense, he thought.  
"Strange things", "suicides", and "strange dreams", typical 
superstitious clap-trap, from an Irishman who has had too much to drink.
     He had taken half a dozen paces before he stopped and said aloud, 
"Strange dreams?" He abruptly recalled the dreams about Nora before he 
finally found himself in the sack with her.  Come to think of it, Sue 
had been acting oddly all day ... almost as if she had been worried 
about something.  He quickened his pace and, by the time he reached the 
turn-off, he was actually jogging.
     It was midnight when he arrived; the castle was completely dark 
except for lights shining from the windows of their suite.  "Thank God," 
he breathed, "Sue's up ... and okay."
     Rather than awaken the house by going to the front door and ringing 
the bell, he decided to go around to the servants entrance and enter 
through the storage area.  Once inside, the darkness was oppressive.  He 
fumbled his way through the room, and was relieved to find a door which 
lead to the dimly lighted hallway.  Quickly he made his way up the 
servants back stairs.  When he reached the third floor, he turned toward 
what he thought was his suite.  He was halfway down the corridor, in 
front of a statue of a knight in armour, when he suddenly discovered he 
was in the wrong wing.  There, in front of him, was the room he had come 
from last night ... when he had mysteriously awakened next to Nora.  He 
spun around, and as he did so, his jacket sleeve caught on the handle of 
the knight's sword.  There was a whispering noise and a door silently 
opened in the blank wall.
     Dick stepped back in surprise and momentary fright, tensed and 
waiting for someone to come through.  When no one appeared, his eyes 
narrowed and he reached out to push the sword and scabbard.  The door 
closed.  He pushed up on the sword; the door swung open again.
     Peering around to make sure no one was watching, Dick quickly 
stepped through the opening.  It whispered shut behind him.  He spun 
rapidly, feeling trapped, but as the door closed, the lights came on 
automatically.  Alongside the door was a lever.  He touched it; the 
lights went out, the door opened.  He closed the door again and, as the 
lights came up, he began an inspection.
     At one turning, he saw what appeared to be a pane of clear glass.  
Someone was moving behind the glass.  When he got closer, he realized it 
must be some sort of trick mirror, for it was obvious that the weeping 
and wildly gesticulating nude Lady Margaret had no idea that he was 
there.  The nude Irish maid was screeching at Lady Margaret.  Suddenly, 
her temper boiling, the girl picked up a broad leather belt and began 
beating the older woman who rolled and pleaded on the floor.  "A couple 
of lesbians fighting, serves the old bitch right," was his disinterested 
comment.  He walked on until he came to what seemed to be almost a 
theater lounge with several leather chairs placed strategically in front 
of another window.  There was a tripod standing there also.  When Dick 
looked down through the glass, he almost passed out from the sudden 
shock.  He could see Nora, her hair in curlers, reading a book in bed.  
Even as he watched, she yawned, closed the book, took a drink of water 
from the night glass, and turned off the light.
     Oh, my God! he thought in sudden dismay.  Was anyone up here last 
night when she and I ...?
     Suspicion was piling up on suspicion.  It was with a pounding heart 
and oppressive feeling of apprehension that Dick began moving back 
toward the secret passage.  He made a wrong turn once, opened a door, 
and found himself in a well-equipped modern darkroom.  Several rolls of 
film hung from a drying line.  Quickly he exited, and a moment later was 
outside in the wing hallway again.  He closed the door, then stood there 
for a moment trying to catch his thoughts.  What kind of crazy operation 
was this anyway?  Lesbians.  Trick mirrors?  Were Morgan and Nora some 
kind of perverts who got their kicks out of watching other people make 
love?  He thought about what Nora had said concerning his demand for 
oral sex.  Had anyone seen that?  "Oh, my God," he repeated, this time 
with more than desperation in his voice.
     "We've got to get out of this loony bin tonight," he said aloud, 
making an immediate decision.  He didn't know what he'd tell Sue, but if 
necessary he would force her to pack at once.
     All the lights were on in their suite when he entered.  Sue, 
looking pale and distraught, was dressed in her travelling clothes.  Her 
bags were packed.  She turned to him and her composure disintegrated; 
she began weeping as soon as she saw him.
     "Sue?  What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly very frightened and 
positive that someone had told her about Nora.  He started toward her.
     "Dick, don't touch me.  Don't come near me.  I'm leaving you.  I 
would have gone earlier, but there was no way of getting to the railway 
unless you drove me."
     "Sue ..." it was a plea, wrenched out of him.  "What are you 
talking about?"
     "I can't stay with you."
     Dick swallowed.  So ... she did know about his adulterous behavior 
with Nora.  He could barely speak because of the sudden tightness in his 
throat.  "It was something I did?" the question croaked out of him.
     Huge tears boiled up in her eyes; she refused to look at him.  
Finally she took a deep shuddering breath and answered, "No, my darling.  
Nothing you've done."
     "Then what?"
     She shook her head.  Dick, suddenly angry at the uncertainty of the 
whole situation, darted across the room and roughly grabbed her 
shoulders.  "You just can't leave like that.  I'm your husband.  You're 
my wife.  I demand to know what's wrong," the last was shouted.
     Sue closed her eyes, the tears continued to stream down her face.  
Her shoulders slumped.  "All right.  You're entitled to know exactly 
what kind of a person you married.  You made a mistake!  Go home.  Get 
an annulment.  You thought I was decent.  I'll show you.  I'll show you 
what you married.  It is going to hurt you.  If you kill me I won't 
complain.  I deserve it.  Your hurt from seeing this will go away in 
time, but I'll have to live with it festering inside me for the rest of 
my life."
     "What in hell are you talking about?"
     Shuddering, Sue reached into her purse and pulled out the manila 
envelope.  She gave it to him.
     Dick unfastened the clasp and withdrew the photographs.  His eyes 
widened in horror and disgust as he looked at the first one.  He looked 
sick by the time he had rifled through the stack.  His mind was 
whirling; he didn't believe it.  This was all a mad dream ... a dream?  
And knowing beyond a doubt that someone somewhere in the castle had 
photographs of him too, he mumbled "Oh ... God!"
     Sue collapsed, weeping.  Between sobs she managed to say, "You see 
... why I can't stay married to you?"
     There were things to be done.  The first thing he wanted to do was 
kill Lord Medwell and Tom Morgan.  The second?  The second ... No, there 
was something far more important than revenge.  Sue!
     He put his hand gently under the chin and lifted her sweet face.  
She tried to turn away from him, but he wouldn't let her go.  "Darling.  
Listen to me," he pleaded.  "Did you know you were doing this?  I mean 
... did you dream you were doing it?"
     Sobbing, she merely nodded.  "In my dream I was doing it with you 
... and it was so ... beautiful and right."
     "You couldn't help doing this.  You were drugged ... or, more 
likely, under hypnotic suggestion or something."
     "Dick, those pictures were taken last night.  Tonight, though, I 
wasn't hypnotized.  I did everyone of those things all over again 
tonight.  They made me.  They said they would give me the photographs if 
I did it.  They said I had to do it or they would show you the pictures.  
They were going to send copies to my mother, to everyone in my address 
book ..."
     "Blackmail."
     "Yes," her body shuddered.  "But they made me ... they did things 
to me that made me ... lose control of myself." She looked up, her eyes 
filled with shame.  "You should know the truth.  They made me beg ... 
and I begged.  Don't you understand?  They called me a slut and a whore 
... and I am ... because they did things to me that made me want to ... 
I wanted to ... to ..." She closed her eyes, and all the life drained 
out of her.  "When they gave me the photographs, it was only then that 
they told me I would have to do 'other' things for the negatives."
     The word "negative" did it for Dick.  He suddenly realized what his 
mind -- his memory! -- had been trying to tell him for minutes.  The 
dark room!  Of course!  The negative would be there.  And, if there were 
negatives of Sue, there would be others of other people.  Enough 
negatives to let the police know what was going on.  There might even be 
negatives of the girl who committed suicide.  And, abruptly, Dick knew 
he didn't really want to kill Morgan and Lord Medwell; that was too easy 
-- much too good -- for them.  They enjoyed their little games with 
innocent people.  Cage them both up in prison -- without sex -- for long 
years and it would be, literally, a fate worse than death.
     Dick turned to his sobbing wife.  "Sue," he snapped, "now listen to 
me.  No more talk about annulment or leaving me.  We ... you and I ... 
are getting out of here right now.  And we're taking the negatives with 
us.  If you still want a divorce or annulment after we get away from 
this place, I won't stop you.  But we are leaving together.  Right now.  
Understand?  Pack my bags.  Do it quickly.  Take them downstairs and out 
the back way to the garage.  Be very quiet.  Will you do as I say?"
     For the first time since he had entered there was a shadow of hope 
in her eyes.  "But how could you stand to live with me, knowing what I 
am?"
     "We'll talk about that later.  Just do as I say."
     Wide-eyed, Sue nodded, slowly at first and then with increasing 
hope.  When Dick left the room a minute later, she was already opening 
his dresser drawer.
     He went surely through the walls, hesitating only when he reached 
the Morgan's wing.  No one stirred.  He moved the sword and the door 
opened.  A second later, he passed the window overlooking Lady 
Margaret's room.  The maid had tied Lady Margaret to the bedpost.  A 
long black whip lay on the bedspread and the Irish maid, screaming 
obscenities at the tearfully pleading butch dyke, was viciously 
sodomizing her with the ten-inch dildoe.  The girl apparently had 
squeezed the hot-water balls because a thin stream of defecation and 
water ran down the inner thighs of both of them.
     Dick didn't pause to watch the lewd spectacle; truly, he thought, 
this was the "Devil's castle" just as his Irish friend had said.
     Once in the darkroom, he gave silent thanks for Morgan's scientific 
method of operation.  Every print was numbered in a negative book, so it 
took only a minute to discover that six prints had been made of Sue.  
Those would be the six prints given to her.
     There had been, much to his chagrin, five prints made of him.  
Where were they?  That was the question.  Who had them?  Then he caught 
sight of the small notation, "To N."  So Nora had them?  The negative 
book also showed that there had been a total of seven rolls of film shot 
of Sue and him.  He looked up on the drying line; there were seven 
stripes of film hanging there.  He scanned them in the light; yes, they 
were the right ones.  Two of the rolls were of Nora down on him in 
fellatio, of him performing cunnilingus on her, of the two of them 
indulging in soixante-neuf, and of wild frenzied fucking between the two 
of them.  He shoved the negatives in his pockets, then buttoned the 
pockets to make sure the film did not fall out.
     The negative book was a very interesting document.  There were 
names and dates and -- in a few places -- even sums of money listed.  
Dick decided it would make excellent evidence for the police ... that, 
together with the other negatives.  There were two filing cases loaded 
with them.  Many of the pictures obviously went back to the time when 
Morgan had operated in London as a gynecologist.  No wonder he had been 
able to buy the castle!
     It took Dick four trips to carry all of the negatives to the car.  
When he completed the fourth trip, Sue was sitting in the front seat 
waiting for him.  "What are all those boxes," she asked.
     "Photographic negatives, darling, of poor ignorant unsuspecting 
people like you and me." When he said "me", Dick realized he had almost 
forgotten the photographs delivered to Nora.
     "Be very quiet," he said.  "I'll be back in ten minutes or so." He 
had made his way halfway across the courtyard when the dogs came at him 
barking.  A moment later, the lights came on in the courtyard, and 
Morgan opened his window on the third floor to shout down, "Who's 
there?"
     Dick was caught.  There was no way he could escape notice.  He 
stepped boldly out into the light and looked up.  "Hi, Tom.  It's me.  I 
got lost ...  had a helluva time finding my way back."
     Morgan shouted, "Thank God, you're safe.  We'll call off the 
search.  We've been looking everywhere for you.  We were frantic with 
worry."
     "You lying son of a bitch," Dick said under his breath, then 
shouted up, "Don't bother to come down.  I'll let myself in ... and go 
right to bed.  Boy, am I ever tired."
     "Good show.  See you tomorrow."
     "Make it late, will you.  Don't have anyone wake us up early.  I 
want to sleep in.  I've walked five hundred miles tonight, it seems."
     "Right-o." The courtyard went out.  Dick looked back toward the 
car; Sue's face was only a white blur in the dimness.  He held up his 
finger to his mouth in a charade of silence.
     The racket probably had awakened Nora, he thought; if so, we'll 
just have to bluff it.  When he reached the third floor landing, he 
listened carefully and then slowly tip-toed toward Nora's room.  Quietly 
he pushed the door open; the room was dark, and it smelled of Nora's 
perfume.  He could hear her rhythmic breathing; she was asleep.
     It took him almost ten agonizing minutes before he found the packet 
of photographs in a drawer beneath her undergarments.  Quickly he 
counted the pictures; they were all there.  With the treasure safely 
inside his coat pocket, he relaxed enough to lose some of his caution.  
That was when he knocked over the table lamp.
     "Who's there?" Nora sat bolt upright in bed.
     "Shhhh," Dick whispered.  "It's me."
     "Dick?" she hissed.  "What are you doing here?"
     "Why do you think?  I can't go to sleep without you.  I keep 
remembering how you felt ... how you taste.  "
     He heard her breath expel in animal eagerness.  "Have you been to 
your room yet?" she asked, almost breathlessly.
     "Yes.  Sue's asleep.  She won't miss me.  She won't miss this long 
hard thing I've got for you."
     Nora groaned deep in her throat; obviously her body was rapidly 
coming to life.  "You're sure you want me?" she asked.
     "I want you so badly that I'm going to get down on my hands and 
knees in front of you and I'm going to ... going to ..."
     "Yes ... Yes!  Don't talk about it.  Do it.  Do it.  Do it!" He 
could hear her panting; the heat had come on her that quickly.  She 
threw the blanket and sheet from her and began struggling out of her 
gown.
     Dick tried to sound equally excited; he made short gasps of what he 
hoped would pass as impatience.  Then he said, "Oh, damn!"
     .'What is it?  What is it?"
     "Nora, I have to go back to the room for a second.  I felt the 
water running.  I'll be right back."
     "God-damnit, hurry then!" In the dim glow of her illuminated clock 
he could see her fumbling with her curlers.
     "I will ... meanwhile you just think about what it's going to feel 
like when I start biting, when I slip this thing into you." He saw her 
legs clench together in passionate impatience, and then he quickly left 
the room.
     He reached the top of the stairs and turned back to look in the 
direction of Nora's bedroom.  He grinned.  He tossed her a kiss.  "Just 
keep thinking about it, baby.  Think about it ... all night ... long."
     The dogs met him at the front door, but they remained silent this 
time, wagging their tails and frolicking alongside him.  They continued 
to play with him while he pushed the car down the road, and through the 
front gates, and across the little stone bridge.  Then they were rolling 
free down a small incline.  When he reached the turn in the road hiding 
them from the castle, Dick put the car in gear and started the engine.
     They drove up ... up ... up the hill, then swung around a curve.  
For a moment, the moon glittered and skipped on the lake, while the 
castle looked as though it were some ghostly apparition from the past 
... then it disappeared from sight.
     Sue fought it, but began weeping again.
     Dick patted her knee.  He had never felt more sure of himself in 
his life.  What he planned to do might be a horrible mistake; but he 
knew it was their only chance.  He reached into his inside pocket and 
pulled out a manila envelope.  "Here.  These probably won't make you 
feel any better, but they may change your mind about a lot of things."
     He heard her gasp as she saw the first picture, then additional 
intakes of breath as she came across each new scene.  She turned to him, 
her eyes full of questions ... and uncertainty.  "Dick?  You look as if 
... like you were ..."
     "Enjoying it?"
     "Yes."
     "I was."
     "But how could you?"
     "Simple.  I thought I was giving pleasure to you ... just as you 
thought you were giving pleasure to me."
     Sue was silent as she put the pictures back in the envelope.  She 
remained silent, pensive, as they drove down the hill toward the lights 
of a small village.  She said nothing when Dick stopped in front of the 
police station and roused the area Chief Constable out of a sound sleep.  
Vaguely, through churning emotions, she heard Dick say once to the Chief 
Constable, "I think you'll find the reason for a girl's suicide at 
Castle Fleur six months ago ... plus I'm sure the London Police and 
Scotland Yard will be very interested in the older photographs together 
with the sums of money indicated."
     She sat there dazed, as Dick engaged the clutch and drove off.  In 
the East, the sky was lightening as a new day approached.
     They stopped twice: once to barn their photographs and the rolls of 
film shot of them.  The ashes were thrown into the cleansing waters of a 
lake and disappeared from sight.
     The second stop was equally memorable ... for Sue was to discover 
that dreams and things that happen under duress can never be equated 
with the real thing.  And when the boy and the girl had finally rolled 
away from each other, they discovered the dawn had come and a new day 
was there ... full of promise and untold, coming delight.



                                The End



Review This Story || Author: Michael Jaeggers
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