Stephanie's Castle

by Susanna Hughes

  'I meant you can give me your answer whenever you like. Whenever...' he mumbled watching the tip of the crop and feeling anew the soreness of his arse.

  'Whenever I like?' she emphasised.

  'Whenever you like,' Devlin repeated obediently.

  Stephanie raised the rising crop. She used the thick leather loop at its tip to stroke Devlin's cheek. He made no attempt to move. Then she noticed the large bulge protruding from the front of his trousers. She prodded it with the whip.

  'Well, what have we here?'

  'My erection,' he said quietly, his head bowed.

  'There was a time when you found it very difficult to get spontaneous erections, wasn't there?'

  'Yes.'

  'So what's happened?'

  'You,' he said simply.

  She hooked the leather under his chin and made him raise his head.

  'Look at me, Devlin,' she ordered.

  He looked into her eyes as the leather crop pressed into the flesh of his throat. Stephanie could see a flicker of fear in his eyes but it was combined, she could see clearly, with a look of hungry anticipation. This was new territory for him. He wanted more. The master had become the slave.

  Stephanie was in no rush to make her decision. Before dinner on Sunday night she called her boss at his home in London and told him she wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be in on Monday and maybe not Tuesday either (she didn't add, or ever again). Even though she hadn't bothered to use an ill-sounding voice he sympathised with her and hoped she would get well soon. As she was speaking she had a sudden image of him - he was seriously overweight with a paunch the size of a pregnant woman - bent over one of the punishment frames in the cellars, his naked arse striped with marks from the crop, popped into her head. She had to work hard to suppress the sound of amusement in her voice.

  She spent a great deal of time getting ready for dinner, deciding to wear a strapless number she had spotted in the next-door wardrobe when she had been searching through them with Colette. The lemon yellow suited her black hair and though it clung to her body like a glove the material was thick knobbly silk. She wore stockings and her highest heels.

  At her request she'd asked Devlin for Venetia to join them at dinner. So Devlin sat, at the glass-topped table, between two women, a sumptuous blonde and an elegant brunette. Venetia was wearing black, a halter-necked dress that left her back completely naked and made it impossible for her to wear a bra. Both women had tied their hair up.

  Devlin was charm itself, attending to their every wish and treating Venetia as an equal. Clearly he was anxious to hear Stephanie's answer but did not prompt her in any way. And, of course, there was still the unfinished business to deal with.

  'The masked slave, Devlin. When does he go back?'

  'The early flight tomorrow.'

  'Well, that only leaves tonight then,' Stephanie mused.

  'What do you mean?' Devlin asked tentatively.

  'Devlin, you can't possibly imagine he is not going to have to pay for what he did to Venetia?'

  'Oh...' was all Devlin could think of saying. It would be pointless to defend the man.

  'And Devlin, there's something else I want from you.'

  'I told you, you can have anything.'

  'Venetia and I will be paying Gianni a visit tomorrow. Not a visit I think he will enjoy. You will arrange it. Make sure he's at home. I'm sure you can do that. Naturally we want to make it a surprise so you'll have to think of some excuse to keep him in.'

  'I'll certainly do that,' Devlin said smiling. The thought of Gianni being made to suffer was something that delighted him. And it would do no harm to remind him of his visit to the cellars. He felt sure, after Stephanie's visit, that after his 'punishment' Gianni might well want to return to them again quite soon, and that would be helpful in future business transactions. After the way Gianni had behaved this weekend Devlin would have no compunction in exploiting any advantage over him.

  'Where is he based?' Stephanie asked.

  'Rome.'

  'Oh, well, we can do some shopping while we're there, can't we? A stroll down the Via Veneto.'

  'I'll have it all arranged.'

  'Perfect,' Stephanie said.

  At the end of the meal Stephanie got up and took Venetia's hand.

  'Come on, we've got work to do.' They headed for the door, then Stephanie paused. 'And when we get back from Rome I'll give you my decision, Devlin.'

  'Thank you. Ah, Stephanie...' Devlin hesitated.

  'Yes?'

  'Can I come and watch?'

  'Can I come and watch. I think you better ask properly if you want something in future, don't you, Devlin?' Stephanie said in her sternest voice.

  'Can I come and watch, mistress?' Devlin said quietly.

  'That's better. Remember it.'

  'Can I, mistress?'

  'Yes.'

  Stephanie strode down to the cellars, Venetia and Devlin following in her wake. Later that night she wanted to lie with Venetia, feel that long soft body next to hers again, caress and be caressed, use and be used. But first things had to come first.

  The masked man dropped to his knees in the prescribed position as soon as Bruno unlocked the cell door. He was still wearing the tight black mask he had worn the night before. He was not surprised to see the two women walk into his cell though he had no reason to expect it. The two women in their fine couture evening dresses, elegant shoes and sheer hosiery contrasted starkly with the stone walls and floor of the cell and the thin stained material of the mattress. The scene looked like an outré set-up for a fashion photographer with Stephanie and Venetia modelling the latest evening wear.

  'The question is,' Stephanie said, 'what exactly are we going to do with you?'

  Devlin shuffled into the cell. Whatever had happened since last night, when Devlin had been giving the orders, it was quite clear from his whole posture and attitude that he was in no position now to command or interfere with anything. He was here as a spectator.

  Nor was it difficult to work out who was in control. The masked man could see it in the way the woman from the plane, he did not know her name, stood and from the way her whole presence exuded an air of authority. He had seen it on the plane when the stewardess had challenged her, seen her ability to take charge: but now her power seemed to have grown. Her confidence was absolute, her assurance complete.

  'I think we should make the punishment fit the crime. Some sort of poetic justice.'

  Stephanie unhooked the halter of the black dress from Venetia's neck so the front fell away to reveal her large plump breasts. Stephanie stroked them both, taking each in turn to feel its weight.

  'Beautiful, aren't they?' The man in the mask nodded, as the question was clearly addressed to him.

  Stephanie unzipped the skirt of the dress at the back so that it too fell away. Venetia stepped out of it and stood in only a pair of high-cut black satin knickers pulled tight on to her hips and sheer black hold-up stockings, spun with Lycra to make them shiny and slippery-looking, her high heels shaping her calves and thighs in sculptured curves.

  The masked man's penis pushed hopelessly against the hard leather pouch trying to come to erection but cruelly restrained. His balls and cock were in agony. The more his excitement grew the greater the hurt. The pressure made it impossible for him to stand up straight, and he crouched, trying to ease the pain.

  'So as you gave Venetia an experience she hadn't had before, it only seems fair that she should do the same to you.' Stephanie's voice was hard and callous.

  The man knew immediately what she meant. As Venetia left the cell he knew precisely what she was going to fetch. He wanted to explain that he was only obeying orders, that it was Devlin's fault, that he had no choice, but the gag prevented him. He tried to say it with his eyes and ask for mercy. But he knew, even if he could have pleaded his case it would have done no good. Not with this woman. She was implacable, her eyes sparkling, her enjoyment obvious. There was nothing that would change her min
d.

  Stephanie smiled to herself as she waited for Venetia to return. She had no intention of telling Devlin yet, but in her own mind Stephanie had made her decision. In fact, she had made it moments after Devlin made his offer. It was the obvious extension of everything she had felt and experienced over the last three days. Her life had changed. There was a lot to be done, a lot to work out. She was going to make sure Devlin never got into another mess like the situation with Gianni. She would become the mistress of the castle, and, though he did not know it yet, the mistress of a great deal more. She would insinuate her way into his business and his life. Devlin's castle would become hers. Her castle. Stephanie's castle.

  -oOo-

  Enjoy Stephanie's continuing BDSM adventures, all exclusively published as eBooks by us and available to download now from your favourite online bookstore, with the third in the series...

  Stephanie's Revenge

  Stephanie stepped out of the shower. She ran a thick comb through her long hair to untangle it, and examined her body in the mirror that ran the length of one wall of the white Carrara marble bathroom. The three whip marks on her thighs had almost entirely disappeared. But the one on her inner thigh, the one from the cut of Gianni's whip that had so narrowly missed the soft folds of her sex itself, still displayed a slight bruising on her otherwise flawless tan. The welt across her breasts, from the same source, was also distinctly visible - an angry red scar across the top of her breasts in the middle of their soft, opulent curves.

  The beautiful and sensuous Stephanie is settling into her new role as mistress of Devlin's castle. She has everything she could desire: money, luxury, a lover who can satisfy all her erotic needs and a bevy of slaves over whom she has complete control. But being mistress of the castle is not enough: she has a score to settle with Gianni, the Italian businessman who humiliated her.

  But the wily Gianni has more tricks up his sleeve and Stephanie finds herself entrapped and enslaved. She has to use all her skills to teach him a lesson he will enjoy - but never forget.

  -oOo-

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