The trip is long and tedious. Not only has his side-trip to Luton taken him far off his intended route, but he has neither road atlas nor directions to the house which he left in the hired car he has had to abandon. In addition, the girls' mood of contrition does not last long and they soon revert to their now familiar carping and complaining. Much of it, he is aware, is about people and places with which he is not familiar and so he is able to shut out most of their chatter. He is regretting taking this assignment. Jobs have gone wrong on him before but never from the outset. He has a bad feeling about it. It is with no small relief that he turns into the driveway of the cottage having made relatively few false turns despite navigating entirely from memory.
The 'cottage' turns out to be a fairly substantial, relatively modern house with a large garden. The girls waltz inside and are soon complaining about the size of the rooms, the décor, the lumpy beds and what, for God's sake, are they supposed to do in this inaccessible and desolate place. Leaving them to their moaning, Mac explores the house. Sitting room, dining room, kitchen, toilet and another, unfurnished room downstairs: three substantial bedrooms and bathroom upstairs. The fixtures and fittings are all substantial and well made. The doors, front and back, are solid and fitted with deadlocks. The windows are all good-fitting and have locks. There is a ceiling hatch in the upper hall which, he presumes, leads to an attic. All in all a substantial house and better equipped and appointed then Mac's own apartment.
The girls appear and demand their luggage. With a grin he tosses them the car key.
In the growing dusk, he does a quick tour of the garden. There is open space; grass and flower beds, all round the house. At the rear, a fence separates the garden from the fields beyond while on one side there is a stout hedge. On the other side, however, there is only a wire fence separating the garden from a small wood. He determines to check this in the morning. Finally, he steps out into the road and walks up and down a short way, checking the house from different angles. Thick bushes and trees mostly screen it from view. He gives a mental nod of approval.
When he returns he sees, with wry amusement, that the girls have taken in their own luggage and ostentatiously left his single small case in the driveway. He picks it up and takes it inside. The girls are slumped in armchairs looking as if this has been the most work they've done in a long time. Sunita has one leg hooked over the chair arm and her other foot on the floor. Her short dress has slipped up her thighs and he becomes aware that her silky panties are pulled tightly over her mound and the outline of her labia is clearly visible. Hastily, he averts his eyes.
"When's dinner?" Sunita demands. "I'm starving."
"I don't know," Mac replies. "Can you cook?"
This question is greeted with disdain.
"Can't we just order in?" Aranya says.
Her lack of understanding is staggering. He bites back a stinging retort and replies mildly, "I didn't notice a take-away nearby." He sees the black looks on the girls' faces. "For tonight, I'll cook."
He finds the kitchen well stocked with essentials and the large freezer near the back door with back-up supplies of meat, milk, bread, and so on. There are the makings of slap-up meals and plenty of fast foods. Aware that they are all hungry, he heats up some frozen pizzas with some salad and garlic bread. The girls are aghast at this primitive meal but hunger wins out and they tuck in with relish.
After they have eaten Mac makes coffee and they retire to the sitting room.
"We need to get some things straight," he says. "First of all, do you know where you are?"
This question is greeted with blank looks. "In the country," Aranya says at last.
"Quite. In the country. The nearest village is three miles away and it's ten to the town. For your information it will take you about an hour to walk three miles. There are no restaurants, no nightclubs, no shops, no taxis. Oh, and there's no phone. Most importantly - there are no servants. No-one is going to bring you a morning cup of tea, cook your meals, wash your clothes or fetch and carry for you. Am I making myself clear?" From the rebellious pouts he reckons he is. "I will do the cooking - as it's clear you can't. And anyway," he adds with a grin, "I don't think I'd let you even if you could. You might try to poison me." Their faces say they would.
"Right, I cook, you wash up and dry. You look after your rooms. You keep the communal rooms tidy. You help with any housework. Got it?"
"You can't expect…" "That's not fair…" They start at the same time.
He shrugs. "The nearest village is three miles and it'll have a church, two pubs and five houses. If you really want to walk three miles in the dark, that's up to you. If you stay here, you follow my rules."
They shut up but, if looks could kill…
"You are not to go out, even to the garden, without telling me and you're not to go beyond the gate without me. If you hear, or even think you hear, anything suspicious, call me - any time, day or night."
"You don't own us," Aranya bristles.
He sighs then leans forward and speaks in a low, hard tone. "Look, you don't want to be here, I don't want to be here. But here we are. We can do it the hard way or the easy way. The hard way - you stay locked in your rooms. The easy way - you do as I say without argument. Now I'm going to lock up and go to bed."
He stands and gives them a cold stare before going out to move the car round the back of the house. The night air is cool and the sky partly overcast. When he comes back, the girls are doing the dishes. He selects a book from the shelf, a mindless detective story, and makes his way upstairs. Before settling down he phones Klugman. Mac gives him little detail other than to say they've arrived safely but there was a change of plan. He arranges with Klugman for the other car to be returned to the hire company.
In the morning Mac is up first. Despite his tiredness, the unfamiliar surroundings, the sun cutting through a gap in the curtains and his inner tension all serve to wake him early. He finds the sitting room a complete shambles. The girls have raided both the fridge and the drinks cabinet. From the amount of liquid left in the bottles he thinks it unlikely they will be up and about any time soon.
He takes his breakfast outside and enjoys the morning sunshine. Then he parcels up the other car key to send to Klugman. Having done that he contemplates for a while. There is neither sight nor sound of the girls so he decides to take a risk and do some exploring. The wood is the area that concerned him last night so he climbs the fence where there undergrowth appears to be less dense. This turns into a semi-track. At one time it must have been used as a short cut but it is weed-covered and the brambles are beginning to reclaim it. It has obviously been unused for some time - in fact the whole wood, a tangle of brambles and ferns and broken branches - shows signs of neglect.
The path debouches onto a farm track which he walks up a short way until, cresting a small rise, he can see the farm buildings over a mile away. Satisfied, he turns around to follow the farm track back to the road. He notices a gate leading to the field behind the wood and, on sudden impulse, climbs over it. It is a small field in which some sort of cereal crop is growing and it is separated from its neighbour by a dry-stone wall much in need of repair. At the edge of the wood another wooden gate leads to a larger field. This also has a cereal crop which might or might not, Mac neither knows nor cares, be the same as the other. This field is bounded by a tall hedge. Exploring, he finds a place where he can squeeze through without too much trouble and finds himself behind the house.
Without knowing quite why, except that an escape route is an escape route, he roots around in the kitchen until he finds a first-aid box. From it he removes a white bandage. Returning to the field, he attaches the bandage to the hedge at the gap. There are still no signs of stirring from the girls so he goes down to the road. The road curves down and away in both directions. Mac would have preferred a clearer view but at least the hill and bends will force any approaching vehicle to travel relatively slowly. On the other side of the road the land slopes away behind an overgrown hedge. He stops there for a while, enjoying the peaceful sounds of the countryside. If it wasn't for the girls he could actually enjoy this holiday.
Thinking of the girls reminds him of his duty. With a sigh he returns to the house to find that they have emerged at last and are sprawled over the easy chairs in the sitting room still dressed in silly nightwear - an extremely short, frilly nightie and a pair of very sheer pyjamas. Aranya is sprawled across the settee, and he can see one small, conical breast. Her aureole is disproportionately large, covering almost half her breast and is a delicate shade of pinky-brown. He finds the sight incredibly erotic and swallows in a suddenly dry throat. They looked decidedly tousled and bleary-eyed - and distinctly hung-over. Despite this, they look eminently desirable.
"We want breakfast," says Aranya.
"You do, do you," Mac says in a deceptively mild voice.
"Yes. We do."
"Well, you know where the kitchen is."
"But you said you'd do the cooking."
"I did it - at breakfast time. You weren't there so you can make your own."
Aranya opens her mouth as if to argue some more but Sunita gets up and tugs her arm. "Come on, Annie. To be honest I don't feel much like breakfast anyway."
Aranya allows herself to be reluctantly towed towards the kitchen. They return with large glasses of orange juice.
"Now," says Mac, "about this room."
"What about it?"
Mac gestures. "It's a bit of a mess, wouldn't you say?"
Aranya shrugs. "I suppose so."
Mac grits his teeth. He is desperately trying not to lose his cool. "Do you intend to leave it that way?"
Aranya parks her glass on a side table and looks at him contemptuously. "I intend to do nothing about it. If you're concerned about it, why don't you sort it?"
This is too much for Mac. He has had enough. He grabs her wrist, steps back and sits down on the settee pulling a surprised Aranya with him. She half falls, half stumbles across his knee, her pert bottom in the air. Adroitly pinning one arm behind her back, he spanks her soundly. In a mixture of shock, surprise and pain, Aranya screams. She kicks and struggles in a desperate attempt to free herself from his grasp but he is too strong.
"Pig! Bastard!" she yells between screams. "Let me go. Aieee, that hurts! I'll kill you, you arsehole! Ow! Let me up, shithead! You'll regret this!"
Mac is somewhat shocked by the string of invective emerging from such a beautiful, and apparently well-bred, girl but continues to rain blows down on her defenceless bottom. Sunita can do nothing but stand with her hands over her mouth looking shocked and dazed. Aranya continues to struggle in Mac's grasp. To his surprise he finds he is beginning to be affected by the sight and sensation of having a sexy young girl wriggling about on his lap. He tries hard not to react and remain impartial. After all the spanking is to teach her a lesson. Eventually her squirming becomes les violent and she lies passively over his lap, sobbing uncontrollably. He slows the pace of his blows but doesn't stop completely. He needs her to acknowledge him and ask him to stop. And, if truth be told, he is finding the sensation of an acquiescent girl spread across his lap even more arousing than a struggling one.
At last she concedes. "All right," she gasps between sobs. "Please stop now. Please stop."
He releases her immediately and helps her to stand, hoping his excitement isn't too obvious. She stands, head hanging, tears leaking down her face from red, puffy eyes, her hair dishevelled, rubbing her aching bottom. At that moment she looks entirely vulnerable and little-girly and Mac wants nothing more than to gather her in his arms and comfort her and take her off to his room and ravish her. Instead he says quietly that he will do the same again the moment she steps out of line. She gives him a strange, unfathomable look and calls him a sadist but starts to tidy the room. He leaves quietly.