Bound For Pleasure at Blackthorne

by Roger Hastings

  “You both must be my guests at Blackthorne this summer,” Scott said. “I’ve only seen it a few times when I was very young, but it was a magical place. My mother, Lady Caroline, and I traveled a lot until I left for the university and medical school. Then she returned home to live.”

  “Do you have horses?” Kerrie asked.

  “I remember we had a stable, and it was always full of horses. They let me ride the gray mare. And there are moors, a huge pasture, and a forest. Mother never let me go near it though. She said there were goblins living in it, and they would eat me.”

  “Ugh!” Poppie said. “I would never go near that place.”

  “Oh, Poppie!” Kerrie replied. “Don’t be such a child. It’s just a story.” She turned to Scott, “I’d love to visit Blackthorne. We could have such incredible adventures together.” Her vivid green eyes sparkled as she looked at Poppie, “I want to explore that forest. Maybe there are fairies and elves. I’d love to discover the creatures in the forest.” Turning back to Scott she asked, “Do you think they would like to play with me?”

  “We’ll both come,” Poppie said, “if our Aunt Gerda gives permission. She’d have to come, too, of course, and chaperone us. Mom would never let us go alone.”

  “She’s so-o-o old fashioned!” Kerrie said. “Always whispering to us about evil men who abduct pretty girls and keep them prisoners so they can do...oh, that awful, naughty thing with them.”

  “Better stay close to me then,” Scott said. “You both need protecting.” They smiled, and took his advice, each of them linking an arm with his as they continued their leisurely stroll along the deck. The moon had risen, and Kerrie began humming some American tune as she lay her warm, red-gold hair against Scott’s shoulder.

  After he had seen Kerrie and Poppie to their cabin, Scott hurried down the gangway to the wireless room. “I’d like to send a wire to Scotland,” he said to the operator.

  “A telegram? Right, mate, just fill out this form.”

  Scott scribbled the words, his hand trembling with the anticipation of achieving the wicked fantasy dancing in his mind;

  Dear Cousin Richard:

  Thank you for your kind invitation. I am sure I would be interested in a situation at Blackthorne. Arriving day after tomorrow. Have met two young girls traveling alone. Would like to have them visit along with me as my guests if agreeable. They are very beautiful, and I would like to share an amorous summer with both of them.

  All my best to the family,

  Cousin Scott Cailean

  The purser woke Scott next morning with a knock on his cabin door. “Telegram for you, Mr. Cailean.” Scott tore open the envelope. It was from Richard;

  Of course, dear cousin, the girls shall be our guests at Blackthorne. Don’t worry about getting permission from their Aunt Gerda, that won’t be necessary. Please make sure they don’t send a wire to their parents or their aunt or discuss their visit here at Blackthorne House with anyone on the ship. Leave everything to me. And you shall have your sexual adventures with both girls, I guarantee it!

  Cousin Richard Cailean

  Scott dressed, crumpled the paper, then went outside and threw it into the sea. He strode down the deck to breakfast; whistling a naughty tune, hands in his pockets and his straw hat tilted at a rakish angle.

  “Kerrie has a headache from all the champagne she drank last night, but you’re certainly happy this morning,” Poppie said. “What’s the good news?”

  “I just got a wire before breakfast. I’ve been granted a situation at Blackthorne as our family’s doctor. Plus, I’ll be taking over Dr. Woolsey’s surgery in the nearby village of Lympwick.”

  “It must be thrilling to get wireless telegram messages,” Poppie said. “Poor Kerrie and I are forbidden to send or receive wires. Daddy says they are horribly expensive.”

  “Really!” Scott said with an inner thrill. All was well. Whatever cousin Richard had planned, it would remain a secret.

  “And we don’t have servants either. Kerrie and I have to dress in those horrid maid’s costumes when we have important guests. I hate waiting on those old men with their leering eyes and their nasty, pinching fingers.”

  “How perfectly...awful,” Scott replied.

  “Do you have maids at Blackthorne House?”

  “Oh, yes, lots. And they are well trained. My family is very fond of them.”

  “Do they like working for your family?”

  “My cousin, Sir Richard, says they perform their duties with great affection, and once they come to Blackthorne House, none of them ever leave.”

  “How sweet,” Poppie said. “I almost wish I were one of them.”

  “Perhaps my family will let you and Kerrie dress in one of their maid’s costumes and pretend you are a Blackthorne maid for a few days...and nights.”

  “Hm-m-m, I have to think about that one.” Her girlish pout changed to a frown. “Kerrie and I would absolutely hate having to be nice to strange men and compelled to obey their orders!”

  They reached the stern of the ship and crossed over to the starboard side.

  “Oh, look, there’s Kerrie.” Poppie’s expression changed to alarm. “What’s she doing?”

  “From her posture bent over the rail, I’d say she’s getting rid of her champagne.”

  “Oh, you’re a doctor. Do something for her. Hurry.” Poppie grabbed her hobble skirt and broke into a mincing run, dragging Scott after her.

  “It appears she’s already done it,” he said as Kerrie looked up at them with a pale, forlorn face. “You’d better lie down awhile,” he said to her. “My cabin is just two doors away. Oh, don’t worry, Poppie and I will go play shuffleboard while you rest. Then you can join us for tea.”

  “Tea?” she croaked.

  The waters of the Clyde estuary were choked with shipping as the passenger liner slipped into the channel at sunset. As they steamed past a noble destroyer and stately light cruiser. Scott doffed his cap and stood at attention. “God bless his Majesty’s fleet,” He whispered.

  “How wonderfully they maneuver,” Kerrie said. “The sailors look so splendid in their uniforms.”

  The liner docked, and the passenger’s stairway slid against the ship with a thump. The three leaned against the rail, searching for a familiar face in the welcoming crowd.

  “Do you see Aunt Gerda?” Poppie asked.

  “No,” Kerrie answered. “Where can she be?

  They disembarked and pushed their way through the maelstrom of joyful reunions and confused travelers.

  “Aunt Gerda said she would be near the passenger stairs, but she’s nowhere to be seen.” Poppie began to look worried.

  “Perhaps her carriage was delayed in traffic,” Scott said. “With all these new-fangled motor cars, it must be impossible for a carriage to arrive on time.” He wrapped his arms protectively around both girls. Kerrie snuggled into his grasp, but Scott felt Poppie’s body stiffen and tug away slightly. “Maybe I’d better go with you while you look for her where carriages are waiting.” They managed to force their way through the crowd to the hackney cabs.

  “Scott, Scott Cailean!”

  “Richard!” he answered, “Is that really you?” A beaming face pushed toward them. He threw his arms around Scott with a tremendous hug. Kerrie and Poppie stood a little back, smiling and embarrassed by the men’s public show of affection.

  Richard turned his welcoming smile on the two girls. “And who are these charming young ladies with you?”

  “Caldena and Piper Quinlan, it’s my pleasure to present my cousin, Sir Richard Cailean.”

  “Gosh, a title and everything,” Kerrie said. “Are we supposed to curtsy, or something?”

  “Only if I order you to,” Richard said with a grin.

  Poppie was turning her head, searching for their aunt among all the carriages and the half-dozen primitive motor cars. “Kerrie, she’s not here. What will we do?”

  While they were looking in the other direction Richard qui
ckly tugged Scott’s sleeve and jerked his head toward his carriage. “Aunt Gerda won’t be coming, I’ve seen to that,” he whispered. Scott nodded.

  “Ladies,” Scott said in his most charming tone, “we would be pleased to take you to your aunt’s house.”

  “Oh, we couldn’t impose on your kindness,” Poppie said.

  “But what else can we do?” Kerrie replied. “We surely can’t just stand here for hours, hoping she will show up.” She glanced around apprehensively, “Besides, Poppie, I don’t like the faces of some of the men hanging around us. They frighten me.”

  Poppie pirouetted on her toes, looking at the people swarming on the docks. “I think you’re right, Kerrie.” She turned back to Sir Richard, “Are you sure we wouldn’t be imposing on you?”

  “It would be our pleasure to take you home,” he answered. Richard pulled the door open and took their hands to help them step up.

  Poppie stopped, startled by the dark face inside the carriage, “Who is that huge black man?” she asked.

  “That’s just Gregor, my manservant,” Richard said. He shrugged and swept his hand towards the docks. “I’m sure you will agree that a wealthy man will not travel among such crowds without protection. Wouldn’t you feel safer with his strength to guard us?”

  “Come on, Poppie,” Kerrie said,” we’re behaving rudely and making fools of ourselves.” She sprang up through the door and sat down across from Gregor.

  Richard gave Scott a sly wink and they clambered in and sat across from the girls with Gregor. “What’s your aunt’s address?” he asked.

  Poppie glanced at a card she took from her handbag. “The Callows, Graydrear Place, Tatterswell Street. I think mother said it’s just south of Glasgow.”

  Richard’s eyebrows went up. “I can’t imagine such a name for a place in Bonnie Scotland.” He leaned out the side window and called up to the driver, “Blanford, do you know the place?”

  “I can find it, Sir,” he answered. “It’s right along our way.”

  Our carriage rattled out of the queue and dashed through the broad avenues leading outside the city. Kerrie and Poppie pressed against the windows, chattering and gushing with each new vista they passed. The buildings and houses thinned, and they turned into a deserted road. Poppie occasionally glanced secretly at Gregor’s face. His bold stare at her body made her uneasy, but she said nothing.

  After more than an hour of rattling along the road, Poppie’s forehead wrinkled, and she looked nervously from Richard to Scott. “We’ve been riding for an awful long time; how much farther do you think?”

  Richard passed the question to the driver.

  “Not much farther, Sir Richard. That’s the place, just ahead to our left.”

  They all looked out the windows.

  “I never guessed Aunt Gerda lived in such a dreary, isolated place,” Kerrie said. “It looks deserted.”

  Richard glanced at Scott with a “Better say something quick,” look in his eyes. Scott smiled and spoke with a soothing voice. “With her humble pension to live on, I would suppose she has no choice.”

  “I don’t know,” Poppie said. “Mother always said her sister liked nice things.”

  “Well, you can ask her yourself in another minute,” Richard said with a smile.

  The carriage swung into the lane. Instead of curving around in front of the house, we went straight toward the stables. A young man was holding the wide door open. We slowed, and Blanford halted the horses inside. The young man quickly shoved the door shut, and I heard the locking beam thud into place. There was almost no light.

  “Why did you take us in here?” Kerrie asked with a puzzled frown.

  “Kerrie, look!” Poppie shrieked. Sir Richard and Gregor each had a large soft cloth in one hand, and were pouring a liquid onto it from a brown bottle in their other hand.

  Poppie lunged for the door handle, tugging and jerking it frantically, but it was welded in place, and would not open the door. With a rumbling laugh, Gregor swept her up on his lap and pressed the cloth over her face. Richard did the same with Kerrie.

  Scott sat there frozen, dumbfounded by their actions.

  Kerrie was struggling on Richard’s lap, her lovely legs kicking in the air. He gave Scott an intense look. “Open the other door, Scott, and let some air in. You don’t want to breathe this stuff!”

  Scott was a doctor. He knew that odor very well...Chloroform!

  Poppie stared at Scott, her wide, emerald-green eyes filled with terror and pleading. Gradually the intelligence faded from them and her eyelids drooped, and closed. She and Kerrie were helplessly in the men’s possession.

  Richard and Gregor gagged and bound the unconscious girls and loaded them into the trunk of the carriage. He spoke to Blanford, “Let’s take them home to Blackthorne House.” The stable door opened again, and the young man at the door leaped up next to Blanford as he guided the carriage out onto the road and they headed south into the darkening night.

  Scott’s words must have sounded stupid and silly, “But I only wanted to seduce them.”

  Chapter Two

  Homecumming

  “It’s a long journey in our carriage, but it’s obvious why we can’t take the train,” Richard said. “Our ‘luggage’ would attract some unwelcome attention.”

  “What are you going to do to Poppie and Kerrie?” Scott asked.

  “Blackthorne House is a special place, dear cousin. In just two weeks we will transform these shy, virtuous beauties into passionate, naked sex partners begging you to fuck them.”

  “How will you do that? You’re not going to hurt them, are you?”

  Richard settled back comfortably in his seat. “On the fireplace in our dining room, my father had the family motto carved. It reads: Lust will conquer and possess where mere love is repelled.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “What do you think it means?” Richard smiled and closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep. Scott tried to sleep, too. It had been a long, tiring journey from Canada, but the carriage jolting over the back-country roads kept waking him.

  “We’ve arrived,” Richard was shaking Scott. He blinked in the sunrise light and saw trees passing the carriage. A stocky, muscular man was swinging open a heavy iron gate. He wore a black patch over his left eye, and greeted us with a touch to the forelock of black hair falling over his forehead.

  “That’s Crom, our gateman, and Master of Discipline. He will be helping train your two girls to pleasure you.”

  “Training?” Scott was still groggy from the fitful sleep.

  “We’ll explain more to you later. Meanwhile, don’t worry about Poppie and Kerrie. You won’t be seeing them again for a few days and nights. They will be in the expert hands of our trainers, Crom and Miss Ballard, until they are ready to serve you.”

  “Where are you taking them?”

  “We have a place where they and our other collection of girls are kept safe and secure. It is forbidden for anyone to go there until after their initiation into the family. You wouldn’t understand or accept what happens there until you’ve experienced ‘The Rite of Consent’.”

  “How soon can I be initiated. I want to see Kerrie and Poppie as soon as you give permission.”

  “I’m sure you will get your wish within the next day or so. My wife, Lissa, is brimming over with enthusiasm to initiate you.”

  Scott puzzled over his words as the carriage rattled along the winding, tree covered lane to the Manor house. They halted by the large green-painted front door. Richard and Scott got out, while Blanford drove around behind the manor with Gregor to take the girls to whatever place it was they imprisoned their defenseless captives.

  Richard clapped Scott on the shoulder. “Trust us, Scott. We’re family, and I promise you that what we will do to Kerrie and Poppie will please you more than you could ever imagine.”

  “This is a mysterious place, and I confess, what my imagination makes of your words and actions makes me tremble with pleas
ant anticipation.”

  “Good! I was like you at first, when I came here two years ago. You’re going to fit in with us just fine, and be a respected and valued member of the family. Since our friend, Dr. Woolsey, retired and moved to Australia, I have hoped you would come to live with us. We need a doctor we can trust to keep our wonderfully naughty secret safe. And,” he clapped Scott on the shoulder again, “you can enjoy the intimate attentions of all our girls as often as you like.” He led Scott to the door, which was opened by a short, but vigorous old man with a face creased in smiles.

  “This is Selby, our butler, and my confidant. Treat him well, for he, like Gregor and the other staff, is more friend than employee.”

  “Welcome, Mr. Scott,” he said. His handshake was firm with strength.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Selby.”

  There was a curious statue in the foyer, a bronze satyr, life-size and so realistic it could have said, ‘hello’, without any surprise to Scott.

  “Looks real, doesn’t he,” Richard said. “Go ahead, touch him. He’s friendly, and won’t bite.”

  The satyr had a long, erect cock clutched to his chest with both hands. Scott stared at it, with envy and admiration mixed. He rubbed a finger around its tip.

  “You’re a Cailean, all right,” Richard said. “We all do that when we first see him.”

  “Scott, welcome home!” His mother, Caroline, stood in the archway. They embraced and she took his arm. “Let me show you our home and introduce you to the staff and servants.” She patted Scott’s hand, “Poor Richard has to attend to his duties, you know. He’ll make sure your two lady friends are properly lodged in their private rooms.”

  Richard shook his head in mock dismay, “Work, work, work. But someone has to do it.” He grinned and disappeared down a passageway.

  “Now Scott,” his mother said, “before we go in the parlor, I want to explain something. The maid’s costumes may shock you at first, but don’t pass judgment on what you see and hear today. In a day or two you will appreciate our régime as much as we do.”