But if her curiosity and disbelief had been aroused before, now her amazement was elevated to feverish levels. Unbelievable as it was, between them, they were lugging three most unusual burdens through the forest: coffins! Except for Esmeralda that is. With the goat skipping and leaping beside her, she was striding impatiently ahead, trailed by the other two women and two of the men, who, one to each corner were struggling to carry an exceedingly ornate, brass-bedecked casket; while behind them two pairs of men toted on their shoulders two simple rough-hewn timber funerary crates. Esmeralda’s exasperation obviously getting the better of her, she turned to deliver a sharp rebuke to the others.
“Put some effort into will you, time’s running out. Those coffins have got to be down in the temple and everything readied before the sun starts to set. So, get a move on!”
Hurrying across the clearing and attempting carry out her bidding, one of the bearers stumbled; the coffin slipped from his shoulders and hit the ground with an almighty thump, its lid flying off and its contents spilling out. Mistress Madonna was in for another mighty surprise.
“Soil.”
The word slipped from her lips unchecked. And luckily unheard.
“Earth. What on earth are they doing with coffins full of dirt?”
This time the words were whispered. Not to Julian, but to herself. Absolutely unable to believe what was happening before her eyes, she watched as the soil was scooped up, dropped back into the box and the lid fixed back down. Hoisting the rough crate back on to their shoulders, the two men joined the others and tracing the footsteps of the pitiable coffle were lost from view as they descended into the mysterious prehistoric mound.
Once again the strange feeling that distant eyes were studying her every movement swept over Mistress Madonna, causing her to look around nervously. Apart from that she had no idea how long the gypsies or the agents de police would remain inside the tumulus and with the fear of discovery now uppermost in her mind, she determined to get clear before they regurgitated themselves from what she imagined were foul under regions and spewed out from the stone entrance into the open space of the clearing. Signalling Julian to follow, this time keeping to the forest she crept stealthily around the perimeter of the clearing and set off back along the track to the hunting lodge. She had a lot of thinking to do.
And so did the Baroness.
Her eyes fixed to the mirror, she watched as Mistress Madonna led Julian to safety. She was not quite so sure of her guest as she had been originally and that troubled her. Mistress Madonna was proving to be something of an enigma and the Baroness found herself unable to read her in any depth, which was a most unusual occurrence. Her actions certainly marked her out as a powerful and dominating woman and her darkly threatening appearance seemed to confirm that she was a fellow traveller, but were the marks on Julian’s neck what Anna had taken them for? She had seen no evidence herself and if Mistress Madonna were a creature such as she, then she would fully have expected her to sense what was happening and to have stridden into the tumulus, dragging her slave with her to join the others. But she had not and as the Baroness now had more pressing matters to deal with, there was nothing she could do but wait until they met in person.
The Temple
TRAILING BEHIND HER COMPANIONS, Esmeralda trod the rough-hewn granite steps with much greater care than her sure-footed pet. Above her head the great roots of ancient trees threaded the earthen roof of the passageway with gnarled vein-like intricacy. Reeking with the decay of millennia, the steep tunnel descended in a straight line down into the bowels of the tumulus until the claustrophobic darkness of its confines suddenly opened up into a vast underground cavern. This was another world. Originally the underground temple of the ancient megalith builders, it shimmered with the diffused light of a thousand flaming torches and now housed the straw-strewn pens that held the Baroness’ herd of sacrificial virgins.
Watched over by their eagle-eyed female guards, for a couple of hours in the evening the virgin slaves were usually allowed free reign to roam the temple but now that the time of the Ceremony was almost at hand, every one of them had been stripped naked, returned to their pens and chained to pitted iron hoops set into the rock walls; even the Baroness’ two favourites. With the two agents de police close at hand, Esmeralda ladled out a jug of water and allowed the ten new arrivals to drink before they too were stripped and chained into the pens that awaited them.
Still toting their grisly cargos the gypsies faded into the pitch darkness of an unlit Hellish black chapel at the far end of the cavern. Although they ventured no further, beyond that chapel lay a further two chambers and a long underground passage that led up into the bowels of the castle. Returning empty handed shortly afterwards, obviously having deposited the coffins in their designated resting place, the men paused briefly and with much nudging and winking exchanged a few words with Esmeralda.
“The trawlermen are waiting for us so we’ve got to get back to the boat now, but don’t fret, we’ll be back tomorrow to collect our dues.”
And those dues would not be only money. Esmeralda and her two companions would be fucking, sucking and drinking sperm until all six men felt that they had been fully compensated for their assistance in delivering the virgins. But that was a price that Esmeralda was only too delighted to pay because without their help she would have been in dire trouble with the Baroness.
“All right, you can have as much shagging, cock sucking and arse fucking as you want tomorrow for free, but then you go back to paying.”
Smirking and telling each other exactly what they were going to do to Esmeralda and her companions, the men took their leave and headed for the surface. With a wry look on her face, Esmeralda watched them go before turning her attention to the two women.
“Is everything in order in the chapel?”
“Yes, the earth has been scattered and the Count’s casket laid onto it just as you ordered.”
“Good. It won’t be long now; he’s been asleep a long time.”
Casting her eye around, she became aware that the virgins were becoming increasingly restless and muttering amongst themselves. It was hardly surprising that they had gathered that something important was to take place that night and their unexpected chaining seemed to confirm that it had something to do with them. Even though they were restrained, a vigilant eye had to be kept on them.
“You two, go and help Anna and Donatien keep those bitches quiet.”
Esmeralda’s use of ‘bitches’ included the boy virgins as well as the girls and whether they deserved it or not, the two women took great delight in landing slashing strokes of the cane to their unprotected bodies.
Unable to sense the tense atmosphere, Esmeralda’s pet goat trotted up and down in front of the pens, stopping occasionally to ‘sit up and beg’, ‘to play dead’ or perform other tricks from his repertoire of stunts. She watched him with an affectionate eye; he was her only real friend and in return for his devotion demanded nothing from her but food and a little love. He was also a source of income too; the tricks that she had taught him bringing in a torrent of loose change when she had him perform at the street markets at Auray and Vannes and in front of the cathedral at Quimper.
With the coffle of weeping peasant girls, their guards, and the coffins now safely below ground, Esmeralda permitted herself a sigh of relief. The late procurement of the final ten virgins had been a great worry, cursing her with many sleepless nights, but with barely a second to spare she had delivered as ordered. She had no doubt however that she would be severely disciplined, cutting things this fine was something the Baroness would not let to go unpunished. Esmeralda was well rewarded to provide the Baroness with fresh virgins but although she was virtually free to behave as she wished, her mistress never allowed her to forget that she too was still a slave.
Her eyes flashed with hatred as she glanced over at Anna, the moment o
f their first encounter several years earlier indelibly burned into her brain. Although Esmeralda did not know what it was, Anna’s current guise as a policewoman obviously served some purpose of the Baroness’; but back then, as the Baroness’ trusted ally and responsible for keeping the virgin herd up to strength, Anna had persuaded Esmeralda’s parents to sell her, ostensibly to be taken to the castle as a serving girl. Weird, lurid tales regarding the Baroness’ family had been passed down through the centuries and knowing them, Esmeralda could not believe that her parents, desperately poor as they were, would dispose of her like a piece of worthless trash.
But sell her they had, although she still comforted herself with the thought that her mother and father did not understand what her final destiny was intended to be. In the event, it had proved her great good fortune that when she was subsequently delivered to the castle as part of a consignment of virgins specifically selected to take part in the Ceremony, that the Baroness had been on hand to inspect the new additions to her herd and had seen a strength in her that set her apart from the usual pitiful wretches that fell into her clutches. So she had been spared the fate that befell the others and had taken over Anna’s role as the Baroness’ procurer of slaves, returning to the old country every few months to either buy or kidnap virgins to ensure that her mistress’ herd was kept to its full complement. Her two cohorts were in fact her older sisters, whom she had recruited on her first trip back to Carpathia to help in her slave-gathering, and who due to their well-fucked status had been ignored when she herself had been sold to Anna by their parents.
After the coming night’s conclusion and the current herd of virgins was gone, she would immediately have to begin harvesting innocent girls and boys in readiness for the next Ceremony, which would take place in exactly one year. But the fruits of her entire previous year’s scavenging lay before her, available and unable to resist any demand she might lay upon them. The temptation was irresistible, but first she had to get rid of Anna and Donatien.
“I know you’ve got a lot to do before the Ceremony and these frisky bitches seem to have calmed down now, so you can leave us to take care of things and get off if you want to.”
Anna did want to.
There were sufficient guards to help keep the herd in check and by now the Baroness would be expecting her to be setting the scene for the night’s events at the castle. She gave the virgin herd one last lookover, seemingly satisfied that they had indeed quietened somewhat.
“Alright, just make sure nothing goes wrong. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes if you fuck this up.”
“I won’t. And anyway I’ve got plenty of help. My sisters and the guards can take care of anything.”
“Alright. You just better hope that I won’t be seeing you later because that would mean only one thing for you: trouble!”
Esmeralda waited for the Anna and Donatien to take their leave and then turned her attention to her sisters, who to the accompaniment of agonised screams and howls, were still enthusiastically laying into the virgins.
“You two! Is that all your imaginations run to? You’ve got a hundred slaves laid out in front of you. Short of fucking them in the wrong hole, you can do anything you want. The Baroness doesn’t give a toss so long as the girls remain intact and the boys don’t actually get to fuck a cunt. That way they remain virgins in her eyes and it gives you lots of leeway. So, what are you waiting for? After tonight there’ll be nothing left to play with in any case, so if you don’t want to wait months for another chance, stop arseing about and get on with it.”
Needing no further bidding, Esmeralda’s two sisters delved into the herd and drew out six protesting unfortunates. Wicked, cutting slashes of the canes quelled any sign of rebellion, the slaves meekly accepting what was required of them. In a deliberately provocative motion one of the sisters stood upright with her legs spread wide, and under further threat of the cane, one of her selected slaves lost no time in tweaking and sucking her nipples while two others dropped to their knees, sticking their tongues and fingers up into her vagina and anus.
The other sister sank to the ground and laid herself out flat with her knees bent and legs wide open. Two girl slaves were ordered to suckle and fondle both breasts at the same time and judging by her facial grimaces and the way she sucked in air, she found their attention nothing less than exhilarating. A boy slave prostrated himself between her thighs and peeling her sex lips apart nuzzled her clitoris before burying his tongue deep into her dripping love tunnel. With three slaves working on each woman, there was not an inch of their bodies from which an arousing reaction could be wrung that escaped their attention. Writhing and squirming they both looked to be set on the road to climactic orgasms and Esmeralda felt she could safely leave them to their own devices.
As for herself, it was true that she was and would probably forever remain a slave. But she was in a favoured position in the distinct hierarchy that operated within the castle walls. The Baroness was of course her mistress and she or any member of her strange coterie could call upon her for any service they required, but in turn although ranking far below Anna, like her, Esmeralda held dominion over the slaves of the herd and could use them in any way she desired. Or at least, she thought that she could.
And at that moment her desire was to numb her anxiety by sating herself with sexual pleasure before the summons came. The summons to appear before the Baroness and explain herself. The summons that she knew would have only one outcome; punishment, excruciating pain and sexual abuse. And should the Baroness prove to be in no mood to accept her explanation, then something far worse would befall her, consigning her to a wretched half-existence with the pitiable zombies who inhabited the fetid horrors of the vile dungeons of doom in the catacombs deep below the castle. Zombies who had once been full-blooded, young and vibrant girls and boys until the Baroness had drained them of their vital life-sustaining forces.
Shuddering at the thought, Esmeralda took herself in rein. If that same monstrous and unthinkably satanic fate were to be the outcome of that summons, then before it was decreed she would gain some satisfaction for herself by using and abusing the Baroness’ two favourites.
Slapping the coiled bullwhip against her thigh, she stalked the chained masses of the herd, now once more agitated and unsettled after seeing the unfeeling, brutal manner in which six of their number were being treated by Esmeralda’s sister slave gatherers. Up and down, she strutted before the line of trembling, ululating virgins. The Baroness was her mistress, that was a fact, but she was not present; she was not there to enforce her authority and so if Esmeralda wished to use the Baroness’ favourites for her own purposes, then so be it.
Rebelliousness flared up within her.
Fuck the Baroness!
If she was going to end up sharing eternity with a bunch of gormless brain-dead non-people, then she was going to shag them into eternity herself. The Baroness could go fuck herself and nothing she could do would make any difference. Striding the line of shackled penned-up virgins, she searched for the Baroness’ two favoured slaves. And after a while, she found them.
Columbine and Arlecchino.
“Her, and him!”
The order was issued. Two of the guards detached themselves from the gaggle of female custodians and somewhat hesitantly, pulled the Baroness’ favourites out from the herd. To them, Esmeralda’s word was law; but these two particular slaves? That was another matter altogether. Usually the guards would have turned to Anna for guidance, but she was gone, and so the slaves found themselves thrust before the lustful, avenging philistine who had reaped them from their homeland in the first place.
The guards turned to one side. What was to be, was to be, and it was no concern of theirs. If Esmeralda wished to risk the wrath of the Baroness then the consequences were her lookout. First Arlecchino was delivered to her side, and then Columbine.
“Alright my pretty,
come here.”
She was addressing Arlecchino.
He sidled up to her, remaining motionless at her side.
“And you, over here on this side.”
Columbine obeyed just as quickly as Arlecchino had done.
“You miserable pair of useless yokels have a task to perform. A special task. If you don’t complete it to my satisfaction, I’ll make you suffer; suffer more than you’ve ever suffered before. I know that you’re the Baroness Elizabeth’s little pets and that you’re always down in that black chamber of hers, feeling her up, playing with her tits, licking her fanny and doing whatever else you do to her. Well, she’s never tired of you so you must be doing something right. And now you’re going to do it for me! And Arlecchino, we’ll start with you.”
Deathly pale and apprehensively rubbing his neck where the Baroness had sunk her fangs the previous evening, Arlecchino seemed to shrivel before her. Esmeralda savoured his nervousness; his fright was palpable, so intense that the feeling of absolute power over him generated a surge of excitement and anticipation deep within her. From the very moment of his arrival at the castle, he had been the Baroness’ favourite boy slave and he had never been subjected to punishment or sexual attention from anyone else. He was absolutely terrified and that terror somehow thrilled and enlivened her. A sudden shard of electric tension speared her vagina and unbelievably she felt her sex lips peeling apart and her clitoris harden beneath its hood. She had disciplined countless slaves before but never with this outcome; and she had not even started. Now at last she understood that power and dominion over another was sexually arousing in itself and she would milk it to the full.
Grabbing both their arms, she pulled them over to an empty pen.
“Right, you girl. You’re going to help me. Fetch me a pair of cuffs, a collar and those chains.”
Slaves to the Bloodline Page 10