Peter sat on an upturned flower pot in the shed at the bottom of the garden, flicking through a book.
“Oh I say, I’m bored,” he sighed to himself.

“I do wish there was something more to do.”
Peter was cross. He glared around him at the room. He glared down at Scamper II. Scamper II wagged his tail at Peter.
“I liked Scamper I, better,” Peter grumbled.

But Scamper I was long departed.Footsteps were heard coming down the path. They stopped at the door and a sharp knock at the door.
What was this! Peter got to his feet and shot over to the door.
“Password!” he said in a soft voice.
A female voice replied.
“Peter, you open this door this instant!”
“Not unless you give the password!” he said, crossly.
“I’m not one of your stupid Secret Seven!” said the voice. “Open the door!”
Peter sighed and shock his head. He opened the door an inch or two, and peered out. Standing there was Jacks’ little pest of a sister Susie.
“You know this is the Secret Seven shed, Susie,” he said. “There are rules.”
“Listen, Peter, you’d better tell me where my brother is or I’m going to….”
“What?”
“You just tell me!” Susie stamped her foot. What a nice little foot it was too. a lump of snow shot up and hit Peter on the shin, dousing his leg in a sudden cold.
Peter blinked.
“You had better come in…it’s cold,” he said.
Susie frowned at him and said “if I come in, you better not try anything.”
“Why, what would i do?” asked Peter, crossly. He opened the door and grabbed Susie’s arm and pulled her into the shed, closing the door behind him.Susie stood in the middle of the little shed, frowning. When she was small, all she’d wanted to do was to join her brother Jack and his friends in their secret society. But that was years ago…before the war. Since then, the boys, and the girls too, had all gone off to London and Europe and fought and worked.

Six came back –  poor Pam had been bombed right out of existence in London.

It was said in the village that it would have been better if it had been Peter. A strong, grown up boy had gone to war, and a very odd man had come back from it.
A man who bought lots of leather and lots of rivets. No one knew what for, but he’d been very strange for the last few years.This was not however why Susie was frowning as she glanced around the little shed.She was used to Peter’s odd looks by now. So were everyone in the village. What was puzzling her were the trunks. In the room, she could see five trunks. large, traveling cases. Why would Peter need that many traveling cases? She’d never seen these before. And there was something else odd about them…if she could just put her finger on what it was…

“Would you like a biscuit?” asked Peter, offering her a plate of ginger biscuits.
“No thank you,” said Susie. Peter frowned.
“I said, would you like a biscuit,” he said. He pushed the plate closer to her.
“I don’t’ want anything, thank you!” said Susie crossly.
“Have one, they’re nice,” said Peter. His voice had dropped rather low and he sounded menacing.
“Peter, all I want to know is what you’ve done with Jack. And Colin, and George and Janet and Barbara, for that matter! They visit you so often and then they vanish. Why, Jack didn’t’ make it to work on Friday, and Barbara was going to go to town on Sunday and never turned up to the train station! And don’t’ tell me you’re solving a mystery, because that’s what you did years ago and you are all grown up now!”
There was a silence and Peter and Susie glared at each other.
“Well well well,” said Peter, a smile lighting up his face. “Little Susie, all grown up. And looking for her brother. You know, there’s only six of us now. If you wanted, you could be a member of the secret seven at long last…it was always your dream, you know.”
“Grow up!” said Susie scornfully. “Child’s stuff, that is! just tell me where…”

She broke off, startled by a noise coming from one of the trunks.
“What…” she said, going over to it.
Peter was too quick for her. He leapt over and stood in front of the trunk.
“Sorry,” he said, “you font get to see what’s in the trunk unless you join the club.”
“Well…then, maybe I will…” said Susie, eager to see what was in the trunk. Another noise from the trunk which sounded very much like someone trying to say “NO!” came from it.

“Hey! i know that voice! That’s JACK!” yelled Susie and pushed past Peter and fumbled with the trunk lid.
Peter shrugged and stood aside while Susie opened the trunk.
Inside it was Jack. He was not wearing much at all, and his hands were tied behind his back. A curious ball attached to a bit of leather was strapped to his mouth. It was apparent to Susie just what Peter had been making with the leather and the rivets. She’d never seen so many straps in one place before.

“Jack, Jack, are you all right?” asked Susie, pulling the ball away.
“I’m fine, but you should get out of here while you can!” cried Jack. “Don’t join the Secret Seven or he’ll make you get in the trunks too!…and please don’t tell me you ate the biscuits…he drugs them!”
“I didn’t eat them!” cried Susie. “Look, I’ll untie you…”
“No!” put the gag back on me, or he’ll punish me,” said Jack. “And shut me back up, I’ve been bad, i disobeyed him the other day and i deserve to be punished!”
“How? what? What do you mean, disobeyed him?” yelled Susie, startled.
“I poured the milk before the tea…it’s one of the rules. i deserve it! Quick! Lock me back up!” he said desperately, an eye on Peter. Susie, in a trance, popped the gag back on Jack, and closed the lid of the trunk.

She turned and looked at Peter.
Peter looked pleased.
“At last you understand. They love it. they come to me and i punish them for things they do or don’t’ do. They are my submissives, I rule them. I’m benevolent of course, but they must have a strict master…Have a biscuit,” he offered. “Tea? Here, take this.” He held out a little badge with SS embroidered on it.
“I”m not going to be in your club,” Susie told him.
“Yes you are,” he said, and walked over to a flowerpot in the corner. She watched him as he took out various leather items and a pair of handcuffs.
“Peter, I’ve always despised you,” said Susie. “You bossed around your silly club for years. You pretended you were all grown up and you meddled in silly mysteries and made yourself into a little tin pot village god. You ran a stupid club for my idiot brother and your friends who did whatever you said. Now you’ve got them (for it’s obvious the others are in the other trunks!) worshiping every thing you say and believing you’re holy or whatever. Well, I’m not going to fall for this. I refuse to worship you.”
“And why do you think I’m going to let you out of this shed?” asked Peter menacingly, coming towards her.
“Because,” said Susie, not budging, her fists curled by her sides, “I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve!”
She reached out and gripped his shoulder and gave it a curious pinch. Peter turned white and collapsed on the floor.
“Besides, there’s this new show called Star Trek and if you watched it rather than tying up your friends all day you’d know about the Vulcan Death Grip!” she said to his unconscious body.

******
There was a muffled noise from the trunk. Susie sighed and went over to it, and kicked it hard.
“What now?” she said.
“Can i come out now?”
“No.”
“But i need to use the…you know”
“No! and you’d better not! Or you’ll be punished!” she said, her mouth to the air hole. She heard Peter give an uncomfortable sigh as he tried to get comfortable.

Well, thought Susie, looking down at her SS badge on, I never thought I’d be running the Secret Seven one day. She looked around, satisfied, at all the trunks. Some were empty, but would be occupied again soon as the members returned to the shed after their work days. But the best trunk of all she kept just for Peter. He spent so much time being the top, he never knew what satisfaction there was being a bottom, she thought, as she carefully rubbed leather cleaner into the horsewhip she kept reserved.

What a jolly fine club this was!