by Becky Bell
‘Yes, master,’ she said, managing a smile.
Chapter Eight
The white skirt was marked with moss from the bough and badly creased. The blouse and jacket showed signs of dirt too. Her left stocking was laddered and the white shoes stained with grass. The frantic activity as she was bent over the branch with her head down had dislodged most of the pins from her hair, and it looked ragged and unkempt.
It was only as she climbed back into the car and caught a glimpse of herself in walnut-framed vanity mirrors that she realised how bedraggled she looked. What’s more, there was nothing she could do about it. Even if Freddie released her hands she wouldn’t be able to make any impression on the stains, or change her stockings, and she doubted she would be able to do much with her hair without a brush and more hairpins.
She would have to hope that Hawksworth would blame Georgina. Perhaps he’d think they took her out into the woods. But as they got closer to the manor she became more apprehensive. What made it worse was that her master told Georgina she was needed back at the house by ten, which made her think he had something special in mind for her. If he had Laurie take her straight to him, would he question her closely about what had happened and if so, would she be able to lie? Lying was, after all, the ultimate disobedience.
She became increasingly gloomy and depressed. There was nothing she could do to resist Freddie, but she knew that in the end she’d actively encouraged him, and she felt guilty about that, a guilt compounded by the fact that the orgasms she’d enjoyed were still giving her little trills and tremors of pleasure. Her anus was still tingling where he buggered her, and she could feel the sticky semen seeping out of it. If she hadn’t enjoyed it, if she hadn’t orgasmed so freely, she would feel as if she’d betrayed her master’s trust.
Freddie did not say a word as they drove through the gates of the manor and up to the front door. Laurie opened it as soon as the car appeared. She strode over to the passenger door and opened it as the car came to a halt.
‘Out,’ she said.
Andrea held her breath as she clambered awkwardly from the back seat.
‘Thank you,’ Laurie said to Freddie.
‘My pleasure,’ he said, grinning broadly. He glanced at Andrea, who rapidly looked away. ‘My pleasure.’
‘This way,’ Laurie said, as the car cruised away back up the drive. Her eyes examined Andrea critically but she didn’t say a word. She took Andrea’s arm and led her into the house. She was wearing another one of her skin-tight cat-suits, this one in a dark violet colour, the material woven with some sort of metallic thread that made it glitter. Her suede ankle boots were black, and her long hair was brushed over her shoulders.
They headed straight for the back of the house. When it was obvious they were going to the stables Andrea breathed a sigh of relief, though she had to confess to disappointment too. Even at the risk of him asking her awkward questions, her desire to see Hawksworth again was overwhelming.
Inside her cell Laurie untied the cord that bound her wrists. ‘Take off all your clothes,’ she said.
Andrea obeyed, handing Laurie each item until she was naked. The gusset of the white silk teddy was soaking wet, and had creased into a thin strip, but though Laurie must have seen it and felt it she made no comment. At least that could have been explained by what had happened with Georgina and Miles.
‘Betty will take you for a shower. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.’
Andrea’s heart leapt. It looked as if her master was waiting for her after all.
Betty arrived moments later and took her to the bathroom. Andrea used the toilet then showered, trying to wash away as much evidence of Freddie as she could. She then sat on a bathroom stool while Betty applied her make-up.
Andrea felt better now. The suit and the lingerie would be sent for cleaning. The evidence of her misbehaviour had been destroyed. Admittedly her bum was still raw, but if Hawksworth asked her about that she would not have to lie.
Back in her cell she found clothes lying on the bed, though very few. There was a corset in black satin, boned to cinch her waist tightly, with four satin suspenders. There was a pair of sheer black stockings next to it, and on the floor a pair of black leather shoes with thin four inch heels.
As she wrapped the corset around her waist, sucking her breath in to enable her to fasten it, her excitement mounted. Everything that happened that afternoon had distracted her from what the master had said and done over lunch. It was a rare moment of intimacy between them. Twice now he’d been alone with her, and each time she felt they shared something special, the unique bond that existed between a master and his slave. It was not love, or even friendship. It was an emotion like no other. She hoped she would experience it again tonight.
As she finished dressing, slipping her feet into the shoes, Laurie appeared.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes, Ms Angelis,’ Andrea said.
‘Hands behind your back.’
Andrea turned and pressed her wrists together in the small of her back. She felt the familiarity of metal handcuffs being clipped into place. A tremor of excitement ran through her body. Bondage had become a precursor to sexual pleasure.
Laurie turned her round and clipped the chain leash to the collar, then led her out of the room by it. But to Andrea’s surprise they did not head down the corridor to the house, but walked in the other direction. At the end of the block, by the bathroom, there was a second door. Laurie led her to it, then opened it with a key.
The room beyond was large, with a high sloping ceiling. The floor was polished wood-block, and the walls were covered in dark-blue velvet curtaining. There was a bar of spotlights strung across the ceiling and these had been trained on a circular dais in the centre of the room, about two feet high.
On the dais Andrea was astonished to see the other three girls. They were all dressed in an identical outfit to her; a tight waspie, sheer stockings and shoes. The only difference was the colour. Julia’s outfit was white satin, while the other two girls, whose names Andrea didn’t know, where dressed in red and navy-blue.
The girls were standing with their hands raised above their heads, their wrists secured in leather cuffs which in turn were attached to a metal bar that hung from a chain that disappeared up to the ceiling.
‘I don’t think you’ve met, Donna,’ Laurie pointed to the shortest of the three, ‘and Cherry,’ she said, nodding at the redhead.
She undid Andrea’s handcuffs, replaced them with leather cuffs identical to those worn by the girls, and then led her over to the dais and hitched her up to the metal bar too, her arms stretched up above her head. Then without another word she left the room, locking the door again after her.
‘Bitch,’ Donna grumbled.
‘Shut up,’ Julia snapped.
‘Are we going to just stand here and keep quiet then?’
‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do.’
Donna huffed, but didn’t say another word.
The bondage brought back all the aches and pains Andrea had experienced earlier in the afternoon, and as time went on the girls began to make little whimpering noises. She noticed that Julia had inched closer to Cherry and was moving her body against her, as though trying to comfort her. Cherry responded, rubbing her calf against Julia’s leg, the nylon stockings rasping seductively together.
That stopped the moment they heard the key in the lock, and the two girls moved apart as the door opened and Charles Hawksworth walked in.
‘Here we are,’ he said to someone as yet unseen. ‘I’ve explained it all to you, so now you can see for yourself.’
Following him into the room was a tall male, probably no more than twenty years old. Both wore dinner suits and black bow ties, though the boy was wearing a white tuxedo.
‘My God,’ he said, stopping dead in his tracks as he set eyes on the dais, and
the four girls. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he stared at their semi-naked bodies.
‘Introduce yourselves, girls,’ Hawksworth said.
‘Good evening, sir, I’m Julia,’ Julia said at once, and the other three followed suit.
The newcomer walked to the dais and was still staring up at them. ‘Who are they?’ he asked, without taking his eyes from the alluring vision. ‘Where did you find them? Where do they come from?’
Hawksworth smiled. ‘So many questions; but none of that really matters. As I said to you over dinner, it maybe hard for you to understand at your age, but there are women who have, what shall we call it, a penchant for being submissive. Some take years to discover it, others are more open. But of course wanting and getting are two different things. Many women may go through life desiring to be a slave and yet never find a man prepared to give them what they want. In that respect these four are extremely privileged.’
‘How long have they been bound like this?’
‘Half an hour or so.’
‘Is it uncomfortable for them?’
Hawksworth laughed. ‘Of course it’s uncomfortable. That’s the point, Martin. Pain, the sort of pain they’re experiencing now, is entirely relative. It is a function of the mind. I’ll get you a whip. Use it on them. See the effect it has.’
‘A whip?’
‘Yes.’ Hawksworth strode across the room. He pulled aside the velvet curtaining to reveal a rack of whips like the one in the punishment room in the house. He selected a short riding crop with a leather loop at the tip. ‘Here.’
‘Is this some kind of wind up?’
‘Martin, I promised your father before he died that when you were old enough I’d see to this aspect of your education.’
‘My father knew about this?’
‘Yes. He was one of the founder members of the System. Now you’re twenty-one and have inherited from him, you’re entitled to join.’
‘He had women like this?’
‘Yes.’
Martin grinned. ‘I never knew father had it in him.’
‘And your mother. There are women who enjoy the other side of the coin. Like Laurie Angelis.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh yes. In fact, they can be a great deal more...’ he sought the right word, ‘...demanding, than men.’
‘So what do I do?’ Martin asked. It was plain that any unease he felt was rapidly disappearing. His bright blue eyes were beginning to sparkle with excitement.
‘You were asking me about the pain, remember? Use the whip and you’ll see how easily they can convert pain into pleasure.’
‘On their bums?’
‘Or their tits.’
‘Christ.’
Andrea saw Martin swallow hard. He stepped closer and raised the whip, taking aim on Julia’s full buttocks. ‘Like this,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
He swung the whip down hard. Thwack! The noise of leather biting flesh echoed through the room. Andrea was standing directly in front of Julia and saw her eyes close. She knew exactly what she was experiencing.
‘What do you say, Julia?’ Hawksworth prompted.
‘Thank you, sir; may I have another?’
‘Again?’ Martin asked.
‘If you wish,’ Hawksworth encouraged.
He raised the whip again. This time the blow was lower, the whip cutting across the top of Julia’s thighs. She yelped.
‘That hurt her,’ Martin said, reprovingly.
‘Of course it did. But feel the effect it had.’
‘Feel?’
‘It’s all right, Martin. Tell him, Julia.’
‘Please sir, please feel my cunt, sir,’ Julia said breathily.
Martin looked like a man in a trance. He stepped up onto the dais and put his arm around Julia’s waist. Andrea saw his hand slipping over her buttocks. ‘Christ, it’s so hot,’ he murmured.
‘Yes. Very.’
His hand delved lower. Tentatively it slotted into the cleft of her buttocks, and then slid deeper. ‘Christ,’ he said again, drawing his hand away as though stung by a bee.
‘You see?’ Hawksworth mused.
‘I don’t believe it. They’re all like that?’
‘All. What I suggest now is that you pick just one of them and take her back to the house. Spend some time with her. Allow yourself to get comfortable with the idea that she’ll do anything you want. Enjoy yourself. Then tomorrow perhaps you can indulge yourself with two of them.’
‘Two of them? Together?’
‘Of course. I’m going up to bed now. Take your time. The girl will show you where everything is. They know to obey. We’ll talk again over breakfast. Goodnight, Martin.’
The door shut quietly as Hawksworth left. Martin stepped off the dais and began to circle it. ‘What’s your name again?’ he said to Julia, his hand caressing to two weals he’d decorated her arse with.
‘Julia, sir,’ she said.
‘Open your legs, Julia,’ he instructed.
Julia squirmed her legs apart and Andrea watched him stoop slightly to look at her sex. She was sure it would be glistening with juices.
‘And your name?’ he said to Donna, nodding when she told him. ‘Open your legs, Donna. In fact, all of you do it.’
All four girls obeyed. He circled the dais. He extended a hand and stroked Cherry’s leg, running it over one of the suspenders that held her stockings taut. ‘Nice legs,’ he said.
Just then the door open and Laurie walked in.
‘Mr Hawksworth asked me to see if you needed any help, Mr Phillips,’ she said. ‘Have you made your choice?’
‘Not yet.’ He looked at Laurie, who was still wearing the tight cat-suit. ‘This came as quite a surprise.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘How long have your worked for my uncle?’
‘Five years.’
‘And how long has this been going on?’
‘A lot longer than that.’
He turned back to the four girls. ‘They’re all lovely,’ he said. ‘But I choose her.’ He pointed to Andrea. ‘Her.’
Laurie made no comment. She stepped onto the dais and unhooked Andrea’s cuffs from the metal bar. Gingerly Andrea lowered her arms. She gasped as her muscles and sinews reacted to their new freedom.
‘Where shall I take her, Mr Phillips?’
‘My bedroom, I suppose.’
Laurie took the chain leash that still hung between Andrea’s breasts and led her to the door.
‘I’m going to get a drink first,’ Martin said. ‘I need one!’
‘Of course,’ Laurie said.
She led Andrea into the house and up to the first floor. Martin’s room was at the back of the house, overlooking the stable block. It was large and luxurious, with a dark-green carpet and wallpaper that looked like trelliswork intertwined with flowers. There was a large walnut wardrobe and a big armchair by the foot of the bed. The curtains and the upholstery of the chair matched the wallpaper. The bed was almost as big as the one in the master bedroom, and the counterpane had been turned down to reveal white linen sheets.
Laurie unclipped the chain from the collar, then went to the chest of drawers by the bedroom door.
‘Tell him there’s equipment in here,’ she said. ‘All the usual toys. If he wants to take you to the punishment room you know the way, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Ms Angelis.’
Laurie took a single strap from the top drawer of the chest. She came back to Andrea and undid one of the leather cuffs. ‘Hands behind your back,’ she ordered.
Andrea obeyed. She felt the cuff being re-buckled behind her back, then Laurie wrapped the strap around her arms just above her elbows and drew it tight, pulling her shoulders back and thrusting her breasts forward.
‘Don’t let us down, Andrea. This is very important to Mr Hawksworth.’ Laurie left, closing but not locking the bedroom door behind her. The house was silent. Andrea listened. If she could impress Martin, be the perfect slave, he was bound to mention it to his uncle and that would be in her favour. Then perhaps he would reward her by spending some more time alone with her.
Her shoulders and arms began to ache. It was a familiar sensation. In all her fantasies about submission she had never been able to imagine what the pain would be like. Tying herself to her bed had only been a pale imitation of what the real feelings were like. They were much worse, so by the same token, much better.
It was about ten minutes before the bedroom door opened. Martin entered holding a glass of brandy. ‘Andrea, right?’
‘Yes, sir.’ She wasn’t sure whether to call him master, but as Julia had called him ‘sir’ she thought she better follow her example.
‘You can sit down. Sit on the edge of the bed. I’m going to take a shower.’ He went into the adjoining bathroom, but didn’t close the door, so Andrea heard him peeing, then the noise of the shower.
When he returned he was wearing a short white towelling robe, and his black hair was wet. He sat on the bed beside Andrea. ‘Look, this is really quite a shock,’ he confided. ‘I’m not sure I want to do anything.’ He was looking at her jutting breasts. ‘Doesn’t it hurt you to be tied up like that?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said.
‘Please drop the “sir”. I don’t like it. I could untie you, if you like.’ But he didn’t. Instead he continued to stare at her, his eyes running over her body, examining the sheer black stockings and the way the waspie bit into her waist. ‘Unbelievable,’ he said to himself, then very tentatively he extended his hand and touched her nearest breast. ‘You’ve got really great tits,’ he said, rather clumsily.
‘Thank you.’ Andrea felt sorry for him. He’d been plunged into the deep end. He had clearly no inkling of the world his uncle had created, and from his very obvious shock and surprise she doubted he had ever shown the slightest inclination towards his uncle’s more outlandish appetites.