Agnes Bloom laughed loudly and finished another martini. Their was an expression of disbelief on both the Clarkes' faces.
'Don't worry big man,' she said getting to her feet, not before tweaking Terry's knee one last time, 'I've got enough to satisfy me upstairs. They've never let me down yet. That's why I keep coming back.'
She marched to the door remarkably steadily considering the amount she had drunk. At the door she paused.
'Don't forget the cameras will you, sweetie?' she said to Stephanie.
'It's all arranged,' Stephanie replied. Devlin had left her instructions. Mrs Bloom always returned to America with a full video tape recording of all her activities, no doubt to be played and replayed until her next visit.
'I'll say goodnight then. Have a good time. Fill your boots. There's plenty for everyone. And if you want to look in be my guest. I'm not shy.'
'Look in?' Terry said.
'Sure, I like an audience. Why not?' She winked one heavily mascaraed eye.
With that Mrs Bloom walked out of the dining room, closing the door behind her.
Terry took a large swig of his wine.
'What is all this? Slaves, cellars, cameras...'
'I told you there were other... experiences. I'd hoped to explain it to you a little bit more subtly.' Stephanie said.
'Go on,' Terry prompted.
Stephanie sipped the small glass of vino Santo. 'Well...' She told them everything. She told them about the cellars, about the slaves and the way they were recruited, even about her own introduction to the castle. After their initial surprise Stephanie thought she sensed not shock but a frisson of excitement.
'And cameras?'
'Oh apparently Mrs Bloom likes a video of her activities. Her bedroom's wired with cameras.'
'That's what she meant by looking in,' Jacqui said.
'There's a monitor in the cellars, yes.'
'That I'd like to see,' Terry added.
'I didn't know you were a voyeur, darling,' his wife said playfully.
'I didn't know I'd be turned on by seeing you in the arms of another woman until this afternoon, but I was.'
'I didn't know I'd like to be there...'
'Exactly. So what happens now?' Terry asked.
'If you like I could show you around. If you're sure that's what you want.'
Terry turned to his wife. Stephanie could see the excitement in his eyes. Fortunately for him - and for their marriage - it was matched by the look in Jacqui's eyes. What had happened in the afternoon had broken the ice: now they were keen to jump into the water.
'Jacqui?' Terry said.
'Like Mrs Bloom said we should try everything at least once, shouldn't we?'
'Exactly.'
'In the cellars we can cater for every possible sexual fantasy. That's what Mrs Bloom meant. Anything you've ever wanted, or imagined. We can make it come true.'
'What sort of fantasy?' Terry asked.
'You'll see for yourself. A brandy first?' Stephanie suggested.
Neither of them wanted anything else to drink.
Chapter Four
Stephanie pulled aside the corner of the vast modern tapestry that covered the stone wall beside the marble staircase in the vestibule of the castle, to reveal a solid wooden door.
'Very mysterious,' Jacqui commented. She felt a peculiar mixture of trepidation and excitement; if she were honest with herself there was a strong element of real sexual arousal too.
'Be careful,' Stephanie warned leading the way down the stone steps, the women's high heels echoing through the vaulted cellars.
At the bottom of the stairs she lead them across the stone floor, passed the wine racks and discarded detritus of the years, to the door of the slave's quarters.
Terry looked at his wife in the dim light. 'Are you excited?' he asked squeezing her hand.
'I don't know what I feel,' she said honestly.
The heavy wooden door swung open in response to Stephanie's knock. Bruno stood aside to let them in. Terry and Jacqui eyed his bizarre costume.
'This is Bruno, keeper of the keys. He's a mute, I'm afraid. And effectively a eunuch.'
'A eunuch,' Jacqui's voice sounded momentarily alarmed.
'Oh not deliberate.' Stephanie laughed. 'He had an unfortunate accident.'
'What a relief,' Jacqui said laughing too.
Stephanie had made some changes in the cellars since she had taken over responsibility. Previously all the slaves had been kept - once returned from the garden, showered and fed - in their individual cells where they were restricted by a chain attached to their ankle and locked to the floor. A guest would go from cell to cell to make his or her choice. But Stephanie had decided it would be better if all the slaves were seen together, whenever there were guests, and only returned to their own cells after the choice had been made. In this way guests could make comparisons more easily.
It was not a change the male slaves had welcomed.
Chained into their metal pouches surrounded by naked and often attractive females made their lives distinctly more uncomfortable.
At the far end of the corridor containing the cell cubicles a large area had been cleared. The slaves were now all chained here, not, as before, by the ankle, but by a short chain from a thick leather collar around their necks. This, in turn, was attached to a metal ring set into the stone wall. The chains were not long enough for any of the slaves to be able to touch each other.
Stephanie lead the way along the corridor. Bruno brought up the rear.
'These are the individual cells,' she said indicating the doors along the corridor. 'And these,' she said as they got to the end of the passage, 'are the slaves.'
There were ten slaves in the stiff leather collars standing tethered to the wall, six women and four men. Two of the collars hung empty, their occupants already sent up to Mrs Bloom.
'My God,' Terry whispered. Though he had been told what to expect upstairs in the dining room the reality took him completely by surprise. His wife had the same reaction. They stood mouths open hardly believing what they saw. But as their eyes roamed the naked, in the case of the women, and near naked, in the case of the men, bodies their astonishment was superseded by a stronger reaction.
They were still holding hands. Jacqui squeezed her husband's hand strongly. She could feel his surge of lust like the tingling of electricity. It perfectly matched her own.
Whereas Grace was chained to the wall with the other slaves, Andrew, the other newcomer, was spread-eagled against the opposite stone wall, his wrists and ankles strapped into leather cuffs, which, in turn, were chained to metal rings in the stone work. The chains were short and his stomach was pressed against the rough stone, his face turned to one side. He was gagged by a hard ball of leather held in place by a black leather strap.
It took little imagination to guess that he had been whipped. Bright red welts crisscrossed his firm but very white buttocks.
'What's he done?' Jacqui asked, her voice betraying her excitement, suddenly pitched high and reedy.
'Andrew thought that this was the easy option,' Stephanie explained. 'I told you they were all thieves. This isn't meant to be a holiday.'
Jacqui walked over to Andrew her silk dress rustling as she moved, her high heels clacking on the stone flags of the floor.
'Can I touch?'
'You can do anything you want,' Stephanie assured her.
Jacqui extended her hand tentatively at first. When it was still inches from Andrew's arse she felt the heat it was radiating like an electric fire.
'It's so hot,' she said. She touched his buttock, rubbing it with her hand. She looked into his eyes. Her touch felt cool on his tortured flesh. He pleaded with his eyes for her to caress all of it, soothe it. 'So hot,' she said almost to herself.
Moving forward again, she pressed the silk of the dress against the tortured flesh. The silk was so cool he could not suppress a moan of pleasure behind the gag. 'More please,' he tried to say with his eyes. But t
hat was not what Jacqui had in mind. Instead she stepped away and raised her hand to slap it down firmly on his buttock. He winced through the gag.
'Do you mind?' she asked Stephanie.
'I told you...'
But before Stephanie could finish Jacqui's hand had delivered another blow, harder this time, her palm tingling from the impact. The thwack of flesh on flesh echoed through the vaulted cellar.
Terry came up behind his wife. His erection, already growing at the spectacle of the slaves, hardened by the sight of his wife, her eyes wild with excitement, slapping the helpless man. He pressed himself into her back and ran his hands up to squeeze both her large breasts under the strapless dress.
'You're very excited, aren't you?' he whispered into her ear.
'Oh yes, yes,' she replied turning her head so she could kiss him on the mouth and pressing herself back on to him at the same time, feeling his hardness between her buttocks. 'Could we take him somewhere private?' she asked Stephanie.
'Anything you want. But he is on punishment. He is not allowed to have a good time.'
'Don't worry. That was not what I had in mind,' Jacqui said, her tongue unconsciously poised between her lips. She rubbed Andrew's hot arse again. 'I don't think he'll imagine being here is an easy option when I've finished with him.' There was a hard edge to her voice Stephanie had not heard before.
'We'll put him in the bondage room - through here. I'll show you.'
Stephanie opened the door into the other suite of rooms.
She showed them the two bedrooms and bathrooms and then the bondage room. The latter produced another astonished reaction. Almost as if they were in a dream they toured the room picking up various pieces of equipment as if to assure themselves they were real, fingering the straps on the punishment frames, looking in the wardrobes at the bizarre collection of clothes.
Suddenly Jacqui started to laugh.
'God this is going to be fun,' she said. 'Mrs Bloom was right.'
'Talking of Mrs Bloom,' Stephanie said, 'why don't we see what's going on upstairs? There's a monitor in the bedroom.'
'Good idea,' Terry said enthusiastically.
'Where do you want him put?' Stephanie asked.
'What?'
'Andrew.'
'Oh.' With all the new attractions Jacqui had temporarily forgotten the slave outside. She looked around and considered the possibilities, seeing, in her mind's eye, the man strapped into all the various pieces of equipment. Her eyes lighted on a pair of leather cuffs hanging from a nylon rope and attached to a pulley in the ceiling. The rope was tied off at a cleat on the wall.
'Put him in these,' she said.
They walked back into the bedroom and Stephanie turned on the television monitor while Terry said he had to pee and went into the bathroom.
'Unzip me, darling,' Jacqui said.
Stephanie pulled the long zip of the dress down into the small of Jacqui's back. It fell away from her body like the petals of a tulip. She stepped out of it, picked it up and arranged it on a chair. The black satin basque she wore underneath fitted her perfectly, the big cups of its bra supporting her large breasts, the subtle boning following the slender line of her waist, while its long black suspenders snaked over her strong thighs to pull the black stockings up into sharp peaks on her creamy flesh. Stephanie had leant her matching panties too, but Jacqui was not wearing them.
'You look so sexy,' Stephanie said.
'I have to tell you Stephanie, I have never felt so sexy in my entire life. I practically came when I slapped that man.'
Jacqui turned to look into Stephanie's eyes. She put her hand out to touch her cheek then moved it round to the back of her neck so she could pull Stephanie's mouth on to her own. She kissed hard, her tongue probing into Stephanie's mouth as she felt her breasts crushing into Stephanie's firm tits.
'I love that. I love it,' she said breaking the kiss finally. 'It feels so naughty, kissing a woman. It feels so...'
'Wicked?'
'Yes. And I've got to thank you.'
'What for?'
'Terry and I haven't really made love for years. You know it's all been perfunctory. He'd lost interest in me. I'd lost interest in him. But this afternoon we did it again after we went back to the room. It was so... My God...'
she said interrupting herself.
Jacqui had just caught a glimpse of the picture on the television monitor. In astonishment she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Stephanie, equally surprised, sat down next to her. Even after months at the castle she had never seen anything quite like it.
On the large double bed in Mrs Bloom's bedroom - brightly lit for the camera - lay the two male slaves. Both lay on their backs. They had little choice. From the bottom of their ankles to the very top of their shoulders each man was bound with black leather straps, at regular intervals no more than an inch or two apart. The straps were of different widths, thin around the legs and broad around the torso. The slaves had been made to lie with their legs together, their arms at their sides, their hands open against the side of their thighs. Mrs Bloom had started at the bottom and progressively clinched the belts around their ankles, calves, under their knees, over their knees, over their thighs and hands, their navels and wrists, and then, with the widest straps of all, over their arms and chests right to their shoulders. Each belt, on both men, had been pulled so tight the flesh bulged out on either side of the leather like a budding Pirelli man. There was no way the men could move even a fraction of an inch.
Poking vertically between the leather around the upper thigh and the belt strapped around the lower navel, the men's cocks were fully erect. They appeared huge, swollen and red, perhaps enlarged by the constriction, their balls trapped under the tight bindings.
Mrs Bloom was standing by the bed, naked except for a pair of brown riding boots, proper reinforced hard-shelled riding boots, short leather riding gloves, and, strangely, her rather plain black bra. Her body was as tanned as her face. She was bony and angular with little flesh covering the protuberance of bone at her pelvis and ribs. Her pubic hair was sparse but what little there was of it was incredibly long and wavy. The top of her thighs seemed almost concave. With her legs closed there was a gap at the very top of her thighs big enough to insert a fist.
Terry came back into the bedroom. He had stripped off his clothes and was wearing a white towel wrapped around his middle.
'I'm...' he began to say when he saw the women's attention focused on the television screen. Sitting down next to his wife, he put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a big hug. 'What's this?'
'Mrs Bloom,' Jacqui said.
On screen Mrs Bloom had picked up a riding crop in her gloved right hand.
'Now which of you is going to get it first?' Her voice was distorted slightly by the microphone. She trailed the tip of the whip all the way up the bonded thighs of the man nearest to her and then flicked it lightly on his chest, catching one of the exposed bulges of flesh. The man winced.
'Don't be such a baby. That didn't hurt.' Mrs Bloom chided. 'What about you, are you a baby too?' She turned her attention to the other man, running the whip along his body then flicking it down on his chest. He remained silent.
'You first then,' she said, flicking the whip down again and again getting no verbal response.
'This is better than The Stud,' Terry said. He moved back on the bed indicating for his wife to join them so they were more comfortable. He pulled the pillows from under the counterpane and they propped themselves up against the headboard.
Stephanie stood up and pulled down the zip at the side of her dress. Stepping out of it she folded it neatly on top of Jacqui's.
Terry didn't know where to look next - at his wife's long legs sheathed in sheer black stockings, her body held tight by the satin and lace basque; at Stephanie, the lacy-topped stockings matching her bikini briefs and strapless bra, her high heels tipping her perfectly rounded bottom into an inviting pout; or at the television screen where Mrs B
loom was kneeling on the bed beside her two captives.
Stephanie moved around the bed and propped herself against the headboard on the other side of Terry. There was a distinct bulge in the white towel.
'You don't need this do you?' Stephanie said, pulling at the towel.
'No.' Terry arched himself off the bed as Stephanie pulled the towel away. His rigid cock stood at a right angle to his body.
On the screen Mrs Bloom knelt on the large bed, the whip still in her leather-gloved hand. Between her open legs the long strands of pubic hair pointed down to her knees. She was running her fingers over the mouth of the man who had not winced, pushing his lips into distorted patterns. She put her fingers inside his mouth and pinched at his tongue. He tasted the leather of the glove.
'Try to struggle,' she ordered her fingers still in his mouth.
With all his strength he tried to escape his bonds. His body rocked slightly on the bed, he was able to raise his legs an inch, but that was the extent of his freedom.
Mrs Bloom swung her leg over the bound body and dropped her skinny bum down on his leather covered navel. His hard erection nudged her backside.
'Ahmm,' she said wriggling her arse against the hot sword of flesh. 'Are you ready to fuck me, big boy?'
He said nothing.
She removed her fingers from his mouth. They were wet with saliva. She inched them up his cheek to his eyes, using two fingers to close each eye in turn, the wet saliva leaving a trail over his face like the wake of a slug.
She raised herself on her haunches and moved back along his body until her sex was poised over his throbbing erection. He could feel the long pubic hairs tickling his glans. Reaching behind her she took his cock in her gloved hand and guided it into the folds of her labia. Suddenly she plunged herself down on him, all the way down, dropping on to him and not coming up again.
Jacqui leant forward and wrapped her hand around the firm stem of her husband's penis. There was a tear of fluid at its tip. She wanked him slowly, moving her hand up and down the shaft with the lightest of pressure. Stephanie had put her hand down to his thigh and pulled his leg up off the bed slightly so she could insinuate her hand down under his balls, cupping them in her hand.
Stephanie's Domain Page 7