In a small hotel in the centre of Kiel, the blonde and the red-head woke up and sent at once for a newspaper.
After leaving the Baron Franz-Ruller on the back seat of his Rolls-Royce at the side of the road, they had walked quickly into the small township, found the station, and taken the first train out. It had been going away from Kiel, but they had not minded. Their main idea was to get away from that neighbourhood as fast as they could. They had stayed on the train for an hour or so, and had got out at the small town of Sachs. They found a small hotel and, still exhausted by the violence of their activities and the subsequent fear of being arrested for them, went to bed at once. They slept late the next morning, had a leisurely lunch, and travelled back to Kiel on an evening train. They bought a newspaper at the station and read the story of the flogging, by a number of unidentified men, of the Baron Franz-Ruller.
Feeling considerably relieved, they telephoned their friend Margarete Hansen at the house of Per Petersen. They learned that she had already gone to bed. They found a small hotel in the centre of the town, registered themselves, left their rucksacks in their bedroom, and went out to have a late supper.
They would telephone Margarete again the next morning. And they would have another look at the next newspaper to make certain that they were still in the clear.
There was a knock on their door. A young and good- looking porter came into the room and handed the newspaper to the red-head.
"Thank you," she said. "And will you please send up two breakfasts?"
When the porter had gone she looked carefully through the newspaper. "No," she said at last, "there's nothing at all about him today. So we're quite safe."
"I'd like to take that one's trousers down," said the blonde.
"Whose?"
"That porter's."
The red-head snorted. "At this time of the morning, for God's sake!"
"What's wrong with this time of the morning? I feel fresh. And I feel randy."
"You're always randy."
"And you're always sadistic."
"Not at this time of the morning."
"I don't believe you. Wouldn't you like to give him a little whipping? Or a little penetrating with your dildo?"
The red-head frowned at her and made no reply.
"Be honest with yourself," persisted the blonde.
"Well," said the other, smiling in spite of herself, "it mightn't be altogether unpleasant. He is rather handsome, I must admit."
The blonde got out of bed. "Let's see what can be done about it, when he conies back with breakfast."
"If he comes back with breakfast. It may be a chambermaid."
"Then we'll send for another newspaper."
"You're quite awful. Absolutely shameless."
"So are you."
The red-head grinned. "Yes, I am. And it is rather a good idea-the more I think of it. In spite of being so early in the morning."
"It'll set us up for the day nicely. But I think we'd better make ourselves as enticing as we can." The red-head got out of bed. "Yes. I think we ought to be in bras and panties. Nothing else." She went to the mirror, combed her hair, touched up her face. Then she took off her night-dress and slipped into her panties and brassiere.
The blonde followed her example. "I think he'll bring up the breakfast himself, whether there's a chambermaid for the job or not. Didn't you see the way he gave us a sort of I- wish-I-were-there-in-bed-with-you look?"
There was a knock at the door. "We'll see now," said the red-head, and called: "Come in."
It was the young porter. He came into the room bearing a large tray and widened his eyes as he saw the two girls in their flimsy underwear. "I beg your pardon," he said. "I thought I heard you say come in."
"You did," said the blonde, shutting the door behind him. "Put the tray down there. Why do you apologise?"
He hesitated, his eyes on her naked stomach. "Er-well, I didn't know you weren't dressed, Fraulein."
"It doesn't matter to us," she said. "Does it to you? Are you shocked or something?"
"Oh no, Fraulein. Not at all."
"You don't object to seeing girls in their undies, then?"
He still stood with the tray in his hands. He frowned a little, wondering why she was teasing him. He put the tray down on a table. "No, Fraulein," he said quietly. "I like it." He felt his penis erecting.
She smiled. "I know you do."
"How?"
She nodded her head at his trousers. "I can see it there."
He blushed. "I don't know what you mean, Fraulein."
"Don't you?" she said, and went up close to him. She put her hands to his fly-buttons and undid them.
He stood as though transfixed, his eyes moving from the blonde to the red-head and back again to the blonde. He felt her cool fingers feel for, and find, his stiff penis. She pulled it out of his trousers. Then she put her hand round his testicle- bag and brought that out too.
"How would you like," she said softly, "to put me on the bed and make love to me?"
He swallowed. "I'd love it," he said, incredulously. He could not believe that this was happening to him. He glanced again at the red-head and saw that she was regarding him with burning eyes. He looked back at the blonde and wondered whether he should put his arms round her. He decided against it, and stood quite still, his genitals seeming to melt with the sensation of her cool dancing fingers.
"Tell me," said the red-head. "Are these other rooms occupied?" She nodded to the two walls of the bedroom.
"Only one is, Fraulein," he replied. "And it will be empty in ten minutes. The bags have already gone down. But why do you ask?"
"Are you prepared to pay our price?" said the blonde.
"Price, Fraulein? What do you mean?"
"Our price to allow you to make love to me, of course."
His spirits sank. He frowned. "Oh, I didn't realise."
"What didn't you realise?"
"That-that you were professionals." He was going to say prostitutes hut decided to be as courteous as possible, in spite of his disappointment.
The two girls laughed together. "You must be punished a little more for that," said the red-head. "But we can assure you that we're not professionals, as you say."
"But you said something about a price."
"Yes."
He frowned again. "I don't understand. What is the price, then?"
"A dozen strokes with a whip."
His eyes opened wide. "Oh, I see," he said slowly.
"What do you see?" said the blonde, her fingers still playing lightly with his penis and testicles.
"That you're flagellants." He felt a mixture of fear and excitement. He had never been whipped by a woman but he had from time to time thought it might be rather nice.
"I'm not a flagellant," said the blonde. "She is."
"Well?" said the red-head. "What about it? Do you want to pay the price?"
He tried to decide quickly what to do. It might be very exciting. They were both of them extremely lovely girls. To gain time for his thoughts he said: "But what about the noise?"
"Oh dear, you're a bit stupid," said the red-head exasperatedly. "Why do you think I asked you whether these other rooms are empty or not?"
"I'm not stupid," he retorted hotly. "And all right, I'll accept your price. But I'll have to go downstairs for a minute."
"What for?"
"To pretend that I have to go out on an errand or something. I don't want them wondering where I am. How long will you take with your dozen strokes?"
"Oh, not long," said the red-head sweetly. "About a couple of minutes."
He looked back at the blonde. "And then about ten minutes with you. All right. I'll tell them I'll be out for about a quarter of an hour. But I think we'd better wait until the person next door has actually gone, hadn't we?"
"Yes," said the blonde. "You make sure that he or she, whoever it is, is safely out of the way, and then you come back here." She let go of his penis. "You'd better put that away again for the time being."
"In any case," said the red-head, "don't come back straight away. We want our breakfast first."
"Good heavens!" said the blonde, "I'd forgotten breakfast. Yes, give us a quarter of an hour at least."
The young man put away his penis and testicles, buttoned up his trousers, and left the room. He went downstairs with his pulse racing.
The red-head opened her ruck-sack, took out her whip, some cords, and her dildo and put them on the bed. Then she sat down at the breakfast table. "I'll give him the dozen first," she said, "and then I'll do him from behind while he's inside you."
"Greedy pig," said the blonde, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "You get it twice. I get it only once."
"We mustn't forget to ring Margarete when we've finished with him," said the red-head. "And I'm not a greedy pig."
Marlene Reitter, in Paris, was also just beginning her breakfast. She nibbled at a croissant and picked up her bedside telephone. She asked the operator to get her a Kiel number. She went on nibbling the croissant till the call came through.
"This is the Petersen residence," said a voice in German.
"I want to speak to Mr. Petersen," said Marlene.
"I'll see if he's in. Who is speaking, please?"
She gave her name and waited. After a moment Per Petersen came on the line.
"Marlene!"
"Hello, Per. How are you?"
"Very well. And you? Are you coming?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Today. We're flying at about half-past five. We'll be in Kiel about seven."
"We?"
"I have an assistant with me this time." She chuckled at the idea of the thought that obviously came to his mind. "A very pretty assistant."
"Why are you laughing?"
"You are wondering what she assists me in."
There was a momentary pause. "Yes, what does she assist you in?"
"She's my secretary."
"Oh." His voice sounded disappointed. "Your secretary. I see."
She laughed. "Oh, Per, it's a shame to tease you. She's also my assistant in matters of whipping."
"Is she, indeed? Since when have you needed one?" His voice now showed his eager interest. "I don't really need one, but it's fun to have one." He hesitated, wondering whether to say it or not.
Then it came out of its own accord: "Would it be fun to have two?"
"What do you mean?"
"Would it be fun to have two assistants?"
"Who would be the other one?" Her voice sounded ominous.
"My children's governess. She's also-" And the line went dead.
"Damn!" said Marlene, and held the receiver for a moment in her hand, wondering whether to tell operator to re-connect the call. She decided not to do so. Per Petersen would expect her for dinner. He would expect two guests, in fact, for dinner. There was no need to re-connect the call. She put the receiver back on to its rest. She was frowning. She would have liked to hear what else he was going to say about his children's governess.