The Exchange (Mischief Books)

by Williams, Carrie

  ‘Welcome,’ she said finally. ‘It is good to see so many old friends – but also good to make some new ones. To those lucky initiates I bid a very special welcome. I hope tonight brings you surprises and happiness.’

  I looked at Lisette but she was gazing at the woman. She still seemed stoned, although I didn’t think she’d actually taken anything. It was as if she was paralysed by the weight of expectation and had gone into a kind of statis in order to protect herself.

  ‘Come,’ said Kir, and he took my hand and began to walk towards the staircase. I looked back in panic. Lisette and Aleksei were still at the bar and showed no signs of moving. I opened my mouth to call but suddenly they seemed so very far away, unreachable. Kir and I were ascending the stairs and as we rose it seemed that the air itself was growing thinner and those left below were an immense, unbreachable distance away.

  At the top of the stairs, we stopped in front of the woman.

  ‘Kir,’ she breathed, and her tone was an embrace. She smelt divine – a mixture of dark chocolate and spices and musk.

  ‘Solange,’ said Kir. ‘Let me introduce you to my very special friend Rachel, from London. She’s a photographer.’

  Solange pulled a face of mock horror. ‘A photographer? Well, no cameras here – absolutely verboten. But then of course you know that.’

  I nodded as she shook my hand. Her incredibly long nails were coated with slick bright red polish. Her mouth too was red and glossy against the whitest of skins. Her eyes were so dark that the pupils were barely distinguishable from the iris.

  ‘Enjoy your initiation, Rachel,’ said Solange. ‘I’m envious. There’s nothing like the first time.’ Her eyes flicked towards Kir and from the briefest of glances I inferred that Kir had been initiated by Solange herself. I felt another kick of fear mixed with desire in my belly and my groin.

  Kir took my hand again and led me along a hallway with many doors leading off it. For the first time I noticed that the château was lit not by electric bulbs but by lanterns hung along the walls.

  We stopped in front of one of the doors. Kir knocked on the door and I held my breath. Could I really go through with this? I wondered. I knew that what lay beyond had the capacity to change my life forever.

  Aware that my whole body had tensed, Kir squeezed my hand. ‘Relax,’ he whispered, leaning in to my neck and kissing me. For the first time since teenager-dom I felt the sudden sting of a love-bite.

  ‘Kir!’ I squeaked, but he put his hand over my mouth and gave me a mock-disapproving look.

  ‘Sorry,’ I whispered, and then I giggled. I was in danger of becoming hysterical, I thought.

  The door creaked slowly open, and my mouth dropped open. The most gorgeous Chinese girl stood beyond, all dressed up as a slave, in a shiny black catsuit with a corset over the top and a collar with a leash dangling from it.

  ‘Master,’ she said when she saw Kir. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ She stepped back, and Kir stepped inside. I followed.

  A vast four-poster bed dominated the room. Kir walked up to the girl and grabbed hold of the leash, then drew her towards the bed, not roughly but firmly, pushing her down onto it. From a table beside the bed he took two sets of cuffs, one longer than the other, and used them to restrain her at the ankles and wrists.

  He turned to me, a curious smile on his face, revealing a glittering corner of one of his gold teeth. ‘Did you know Kir means master?’ he said, and I shook my head. ‘From now on,’ he said, ‘you are to call me Master. Understood?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, hating the sudden stammer in my voice.

  ‘Yes, Master,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  He turned back to the girl slave on the bed. ‘Unzip her,’ he said, and I bent forwards and unzipped the back of her catsuit, then pulled it away from her so that her back and buttocks were exposed.

  ‘Now Chan here,’ said Kir, ‘has been very naughty and has to be punished.’ He handed me a horsehair whip. ‘Do your worst.’

  For a moment, I just stared. I had never used such a thing before. I’d never even thought about the possibility of it. This was about as far from my safe world as it was possible to go, and I felt totally at sea. The rational part of me wanted to thrust the whip back in his face and run for it, but then could I get out of here safely? I’d have to make it back past Solange and then out through the hallway full of people. And then I’d be out in the night, in the darkness of the parkland surrounding the château. I remembered the tall walls that bordered the wrought-iron gates we had driven through. How long would it take to run down that long driveway, and then would I even be able to scale those high walls? And what if there were dogs?

  All this flashed through my mind as I stood there holding the whip, my palm slick with sweat. And then suddenly I thought Fuck it. Camille’s advice about acting ‘as if’ came to me. At Rochelle’s flat I’d thought I’d pretend to act like her. But now it was Lisette who sprang to mind. Lisette, I was sure, had been here before and was probably right at this moment in a room just like this, doing something very similar. Lisette also thought nothing of taking her clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers night after night

  It was as if a padlock had snapped open. Suddenly imbued with power and confidence, I climbed onto the end of the bed and started thwacking the girl. It may not have been that hard, but it felt dramatic to me, inexperienced as I was. The girl’s moans thrilled me and spurred me to hit her harder. I looked at Kir and the gleam in his eyes informed me that I could. I smashed the whip down against the girl’s reddening flesh. Suddenly I felt limitless and free. I wanted more.

  But Kir held my arm to halt me, and in his eyes I saw an invitation.

  ‘You, Master?’ I croaked, my breath catching in my throat.

  He nodded, eyes glinting wickedly. ‘I’ve been a very naughty boy,’ he said in his thick Russian accent.

  ‘Call me mistress,’ I said. Inside I felt uncertain, a phoney, but I tried to make my voice masterful and controlled. I had, I knew, to sustain the illusion. I had to take all of this very seriously or it would all break down.

  ‘Take your clothes off,’ I commanded, running the whip from his knee up the side of his leg to his hip. While he stripped, I unlocked the manacles restraining the girl’s wrists and ankles and told her to stand up.

  ‘You can help me,’ I told her. In truth, I was hoping to follow her lead. I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do or what anyone expected of me. Was I purely to whip Kir too, or did he need something else?

  We watched Kir crawl onto the bed. His cock was hard as could be. I marvelled at its girth – he really was very well hung. I wondered if we’d end up actually fucking at some point and, if so, if it would hurt. And if it did, would I like it anyway?

  I regarded the whip in my hand. What was it, I wondered, about pleasure and pain? What made them part and parcel of the same experience for so many people? Would I, too, find it a turn-on to be whipped?

  There was only one way to find out. But first I had to attend to Kir. I looked at him on the bed. His head was turned in our direction and his eyes were entreating us to begin.

  ‘Let him wait,’ I said to the girl. Then I looked around. ‘Is there any music in here?’ I said.

  The girl gestured towards an iPod in a docking station in the corner of the room. The castle did have electricity, I thought – the lanterns were all for effect.

  ‘Play something,’ I ordered her.

  Meekly she scurried over and touched a few buttons. Something ethereal but faintly sinister began to play. It could have been the soundtrack to a David Lynch movie.

  Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I willed myself to be Lisette again, in my imagination, and swaying gently to the music I began to take my clothes off. My cunt was burning and my mouth was almost painfully dry but in my mind I just kept telling myself ‘I’m Lisette, I’m Lisette, I’m Lisette,’ and somehow I lasted the course.

  When I opened my eyes again,
I was naked, but I didn’t give in to my instinct to see if Kir and the girl were looking at me, and if so, to try to read their thoughts. I just took up the whip again and climbed onto the bed and onto Kir himself, sitting astride him. For a moment I just sat on his buttocks, letting him feel how wet I was, how horny this was making me. Then I slid backwards down his legs and began swishing the hair of the whip over his buttocks, back and shoulders. For a while I teased him, but then I let rip, lashing him over and over, harder and harder, relishing his cries, knowing that this was what he wanted of me.

  After a few minutes of this, the girl slave put a hand gently on my arm, then passed me a strip of leather lacing, gesturing with her chin towards the bottom half of Kir’s body. I looked at her questioningly and she smiled, a little condescendingly it seemed to me.

  ‘I’ll show you,’ she said, and she walked over and pushed Kir over roughly. His teeth were still gritted, whether from the pain I had inflicted or the pain he knew was to come, or a little of both. His limbs, too, were tensed.

  Now the girl reached across and bound his cock and balls with the lacing. Kir inhaled sharply and deeply, sucking in air. His head was thrown back but his eyes were open, rolling around in their orbits. I watched in fascination as his cock changed from pink to carmine to deep purple. There was something grotesque about it, but I forced myself not to laugh. In any case, it would have been the bitter laughter of shock, not merriment.

  ‘Come here,’ said the girl, and suddenly I realised our roles had reversed. As the initiate here, I had become the slave to the one teaching me. It was inevitable, but I didn’t feel exactly comfortable. Submission, after all, meant utterly relinquishing control.

  Still, I obeyed, walking over to her side. She took my hand and pulled it towards Kir’s straining cock.

  ‘Scratch him,’ she commanded me, and I obeyed. My nails weren’t long and shaped and polished like hers, but they were adequate to the job. Meanwhile she had produced some clamps from out of nowhere and was affixing them to his nipples.

  Kir was turning his head from side to side, moaning. Garbled words escaped from his lips, but they seemed to be in Russian. Every so often, the girl would shout ‘Be quiet!’ at him, but he’d take no notice. He was in his own little world. We were the architects of his pleasure but at that moment we didn’t exist for him. He was on another plane of existence.

  He didn’t last long, coming with a bellow that I imagined resounding down the long corridor. At this point, the girl faded away, pausing only to ask me to zip her catsuit up her back. Without a word or a sound she was gone, not through the door but via a long thick black curtain that I hadn’t noticed, running along one section of wall.

  Leaning over Kir, I untied the leather lacing and liberated him. Semen covered his lower belly. Looking up, he cupped the back of my head gently and guided me down to him. I knew I could resist if I wanted, that he wasn’t forcing me to, and for that reason I let him bring me all the way down so that I could lap the salty liquid from his flesh. Then I just lay across his belly and chest for a while, rising and falling with his breath, hearing his heart as it slowed down after the rush.

  He stroked my hair, then spoke quietly. ‘Did you enjoy that?’ He sounded as if he was really concerned for my wellbeing.

  ‘Some of it,’ I said truthfully.

  ‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘I was worried we were taking you out of your comfort zone.’

  ‘Oh my god, you certainly did that.’

  ‘I was keeping an eye on you,’ said Kir. ‘Even when it didn’t seem like it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. I believed him. And it suddenly struck me that Kir might even have ulterior motives in bringing me here – motives similar to my own. It might not be all about the sex – perhaps he too could see that as an artist I needed to open myself to new experiences. This wasn’t the time to ask, but I thought I might when we got back to Paris.

  Paris! The city and all it had become for me seemed so far away. Lisette was here, engaged in god knows what. But all the other girls were going about their normal business – drinking and dancing in nightclubs, screwing their boyfriends, or perhaps just sleeping. And what about Konrad? Where was he partying tonight? Wherever it was, it couldn’t be anything as wild as this.

  Kir lifted me up onto him now. I was limp and tired, emotionally drained, but the moment I felt his cock questing for me I woke up again. Positioning my legs on either side of him, I slotted my pussy down over his cock. Then I lay my torso flat against his chest and for a while we just breathed and felt the still joining of our bodies. There was something profoundly erotic about him just being inside me but not moving and I tried to make it last, but finally there was no fighting it and I sat up and started jerking myself up and down on him. He rose to meet me each time I descended and we quickly established a satisfying rhythm. Then he whipped me over and fucked me hard and fast, his fingers on my clit, until we both came.

  We must have nodded off for a while. When I came to, it was to see the black curtain swish to the side and Aleksei and Lisette appear, both naked. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. How could I keep persuading myself I was Lisette now that she was here? My mind raced, then I hit upon the idea of substituting her for another girl from the club. As soon as I did I felt braver and bolder again. It was an amazingly effective mental trick that I realised could be useful in all kinds of situations. Even sitting up in front of Lisette and Aleksei, next to a naked and obviously fuck-drunk Kir, didn’t perturb me.

  ‘Where have you been?’ I said.

  Aleksei smiled secretively. ‘That would be telling. The first thing you should know about Château Montet is that what happens between four walls stays between four walls.’ He looked at Kir. ‘Wake him up,’ he said.

  I reached down and shook my new lover by the shoulder. His eyes opened slowly and he gazed up at me.

  ‘Hey,’ he said tenderly.

  I bent over and kissed him, then gestured towards Aleksei and Lisette. He sat up and looked over at them, then extended one hand.

  ‘Welcome,’ he said.

  They walked over to the bed and climbed on top. Lisette went straight for Kir’s cock, taking it into her mouth. He fell back against the bed, moaning again. Aleksei, meanwhile, had grabbed the wrist restraints from beside the bed and shackled my hands behind me. Pushing me down on the bed, he took two silk scarves from somewhere nearby and blindfolded and gagged me.

  I was taken by surprise but I wasn’t scared this time. My previous session with Kir had taught me that I could safely go much further than I ever thought possible. And with Kir still nearby, I didn’t think Aleksei would try anything harmful. This was a game and I was a consenting part of that. I was learning the pleasures of letting go.

  I felt a dildo on my vulva, playing with me, bringing forth my juices and teasing me open. I was on my knees now, my arse thrust out at Aleksei behind me. He had one hand on my buttock and a thumb on my sphincter as he eased the dildo into me and began pumping. After a while his thumb started to press itself into my arse.

  I wanted more than anything to come, and it was exquisite torture not to be able to bring my hand to my clit and unleash the explosion. But that was what it was all about, and one of the reasons my hands were bound. I was being reminded that it wasn’t me who was making the decisions.

  When finally I felt I could take no more, I felt the pressure of full lips on my clit and guessed that Lisette must have moved away from Kir and brought her mouth to me. I’d never been with a woman, but something about the way she licked and nipped, the speed and intensity of it, made me sure that the person going down on me was more familiar with the female body than any man could ever be.

  It didn’t take long for the combined pressure of her lips and tongue on my clit and the dildo and Aleksei’s thumb – now fully inside me – to make me come again. When I did, I cried out so loud I was embarrassed. But it was only for a moment. While my orgasm died deliriously away in slow ripples through my lower body, I found
myself saying, for the second time in a very short space of time, Fuck it. I was finally learning to give myself over to pleasure.

  The restraints were unbound and I lay back on the bed and watched as the two men now took Lisette as she lay on her side, one taking her up the arse from behind and the other fucking her from the front. She grimaced from the pressure of it, but from between clenched teeth she begged for more, begged to be fucked harder, and I watched her in awe. Her own hands were on her breasts, caressing. She loved herself and the pleasure her body could give her. I was beginning to understand how to be like her and it was giddying.

  Though my cunt was still numb from my orgasm, I played with myself while I watched them, splayed out on the bed. My body felt responsive, athletic, sexy. I felt like I wanted to go on with these games all night. I wondered what came next, and found that I was excited rather than frightened.

  Only when at last the trio fell apart, sated, exhausted, did I wish I had my camera, if only for a moment. They looked magnificent, shiny with sweat and each other’s juices. They were beautiful animals, I thought. It was just a shame that I wouldn’t be able to remain friends with Lisette after this. Seeing each other like this, doing the things we had done together … I couldn’t see how that would translate into the real world. I wouldn’t be able to go to the club any more, but then my work there was probably done anyway. I’d taken my best images of the girls when I was fresh to the place and saw it with an outsider's eyes. Now it was just too familiar. I needed to step back and let the images ‘rest’ before starting work on the book proper with Camille.

  I was just reaching out to touch Kir’s leg when another gong resounded through the halls of the château. The others sat up at once, as if heeding a call.