The Girlflesh Castle

by Adriana Arden

  ‘Thank you, Mistress,’ she said with feeling when her gag was removed.

  Tina, doubled over on the box and post with her legs in the air and her neat little pubic peach bulging was just begging for a beating or sex or both, Vanessa thought as she was dragged to her side. With every little wiggle and jerk of her hips the rope sliding though her slot grew steadily more stained and her eyes grew rounder and fuller with lust. Jennifer undid the rope and delivered three quick slashes with her crop that made the rubbery lips shiver, and then impaled her with her phallus, still shiny with Victoria’s juices, making Tina’s stomach bulge. So close was she to orgasm that just three lunges was all that it took for her to cum, her slim body seeming to vibrate in her bonds.

  ‘Thank you, Mistress,’ she said meekly.

  And then there was just Yvonne left.

  By now the air in the chamber was reeking with the scent of sex as eight highly active pussies dripped with lust. Jennifer was looking haggard and desperately aroused, dizzy with power and once again consumed by renewed need. Licking her lips, she staggered over to Yvonne’s bowed body, pulled the hook from her vagina, slashed the crop across her stomach a couple of times and then threw it aside and climbed on top of her, sliding her head and shoulders through the chains that stretched Yvonne’s cuffed breasts to the ceiling. Without prelude she mounted her, ramming her dildo into Yvonne’s ready and very willing cleft.

  With desperate urgency she rode the living arch of sweet sweaty flesh, thrusting and grinding hard and fast without any thought for the slave girl beneath her. At this moment she was supreme mistress of the chamber and only her will counted and her desire that must be satisfied at any cost. It was more than the friction of the rubber prongs on the inside of the dildo stimulating her clitoris, more than the lovely body across which her own slid with primal need. It was having that proxy synthetic presence inside Yvonne, it was having the right to use her helpless body as she chose. As she came with a little cry and a look of wonder and triumph in her eyes, Vanessa saw for the first time that Jennifer truly understood what it meant to master a slave.

  Her eyes closed and Jennifer collapsed across Yvonne’s body, utterly exhausted by emotional shock and the exertion of three closely spaced orgasms. Except for the slow rise and fall of her chest she was quite still.

  Minutes passed. The other Cherry girls looked on in anxious silence. Vanessa was beginning to wonder if Jennifer had actually fallen asleep when she stirred.

  Slowly she lifted her head, brushed aside a straggling lock of hair and looked round with disbelief at the bound girls with their paddle-marked breasts and dripping clefts, and then at Yvonne’s body under her. Her face suddenly crumpled as shame filled her eyes. Clumsily she pulled herself off Yvonne and sank to the floor in a huddle, sobbing. ‘Oh, God … what have I done …?’

  Vanessa shuffled over to her and kissed her trembling shoulder and nuzzled reassuringly against her. ‘It’s all right. No need for tears. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. This is exactly what I was hoping you’d do.’

  Slowly Jennifer looked up, wiping her eyes. ‘What?’

  Vanessa smiled. ‘I realised what you were early this morning. It took me that long to work out why you nearly freaked when I offered you the lash last night. Then all your actions made sense, especially the way you kept talking about “evil” and “temptation”. All the time you were struggling with your own secret desires, not as a submissive but as a natural strong dominant. The trouble is, being in denial about that meant you might have forced the Glen out of business, not because it was wrong but to remove the temptation you personally felt. I couldn’t let you do that. I’d do anything to defend this place.’

  Jennifer blinked. ‘This was all a set-up to bring me out of the closet?’

  Vanessa smiled. ‘That’s one way of putting it. But I also had a deadline so there was no time for subtleties. You had to be pushed. Sorry for being so brutal but you needed a kick up the backside to let go. I had to tease you out, get you used to handling the girls, breaking down your inhibitions so that when we manoeuvred Mike down here you’d get angry enough to want to take a proper revenge. Don’t be too hard on him. He can be led by the genitals like most men, especially with half a dozen slave girl pussies dangled before him.’

  Slowly Jennifer said: ‘Mike is Mike. But how do I live with what I am?’

  ‘The same way we live with what we are: joyfully! There are unhappy submissives in this world and unhappy dominants who can’t accept their needs and are too decent to force them onto anybody, but haven’t met a willing partner and are too inhibited to join the BDSM scene and seek them out. That was you, I think. Am I about right?’

  Jennifer pinched her lips and nodded. ‘Something like that. I couldn’t believe these urges I had were right. I tried to bury them.’

  Vanessa kissed her cheek. ‘You were a prisoner of guilt. Well, you’ve no need to hide any more and certainly not from us. We need people like you to appreciate what we have to offer. Be strong so we can go weak at the knees serving you.’

  ‘But I hurt you.’ She looked round ‘All of you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I planned it. You don’t have to apologise any more.’

  ‘You knew I’d take my revenge like this. You knew you’d suffer.’

  ‘It was in a good cause: to bring in a new Mistress and to save the Glen. Anyway, it only really hurts if it isn’t done with respect for what we are. This is no place for brutes. But you’re not one of them because you do care. Glen Lothy is where submissives and dominants can be themselves safely and happily. Welcome home … Mistress.’

  It was an hour later in the Laird’s study.

  Jennifer sat before the Laird’s desk. Shiller’s face showed on the screen turned towards her. Vanessa, relieved to be free of her extra-slavish responsibilities once more, knelt by her chair, a position she felt was much more natural.

  There was still a post-orgasmic flush lingering on Jennifer’s cheeks and she looked acutely self-conscious, but her words were firm and clear. ‘I won’t reveal anything about the Glen,’ she said. ‘I can’t be such a hypocrite as to condemn people for indulging in activities that I’ve just found out I enjoy as well.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear that, Ms Morton,’ Shiller said. ‘And of course you must consider yourself our guest for the rest of your holiday.’

  ‘Aye, you and Mr Kendal will be welcome,’ the Laird confirmed. ‘You must attend the games at least.’

  Jennifer smiled. ‘Thank you, I accept, but I can’t answer for Mike. I think we may be going our separate ways.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Shiller said. ‘I hope we have not been responsible for any antagonism between you.’

  Jennifer shrugged. ‘It probably would have happened anyway. I’ve changed … but I think deep down he hasn’t.’

  ‘Well, you’ll certainly be seeing more of him for the next few days,’ the Laird said. ‘He asked if he can work here. I’ve said he can make himself useful helping prepare for the games while I consider his request.’

  Jennifer gave a rueful chuckle. ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me? Oh, well I hope he’s happy. And once again, I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you.’

  Shiller’s eyes briefly flicked down to Vanessa. ‘I think our security needs these occasional tests to remain alert. And it also does our principles good if they are held up to the light for close examination once in a while.’

  Vanessa smiled.

  ‘I accept that you’re trying to be ethical and have certain standards and that the girls are here of their own free will,’ Jennifer said, ‘but I do worry that they are vulnerable to real abuse by your guests. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.’

  Shiller looked thoughtful. ‘Then perhaps we can also offer you a job, Ms Morton. You could become an independent inspector of our facilities to ensure our girls are being well treated.’

  Jennifer blinked. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Perfectly. Don’t m
ake any decision now. I’ll be attending the games and we can talk more then.’

  ‘Well then, I’ll think about your offer. And thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Shiller looked at Vanessa. ‘And once again well done, Vanessa. You resolved our problem with a whole day to spare.’

  Kneeling on the bed, hands bound behind their backs, Vanessa kissed Kashika passionately, their breasts mashing together.

  Ropes ran over pulleys hanging from the bed canopy, connecting the backs of their collars to large anal hooks embedded in their rectums, so that as their heads lowered their bottoms had to rise. They pulled and twisted on these like unruly puppets as they kissed, their mouths working down each other’s bodies, finding hard nipples and hungrily sucking and nipping at them. Motors whirred and they were dragged back up the bed to lie across Jennifer as she sprawled naked on her back. Their mouths immediately fastened onto Jennifer’s nipples, one to each teat. She shuddered and closed her eyes as they worked on her.

  Kashika moved downwards across Jennifer’s belly to the hot moist well of her sex, half-suspended from her pulley, dipping her head and lifting her bottom. Meanwhile Vanessa had moved to one side and taken over both Jennifer’s breasts and was sucking and nibbling her nipples with greater vigour. Kashika twisted about, straddling Jennifer and presenting her mistress with an intimate view of her own dark-lipped sex pouch and her hook-pierced bottom, as she buried her head between her thighs. Jennifer gasped as Vanessa nipped harder on her breasts even as Kashika’s tongue probed Jennifer’s slot and curled about her straining clitoris.

  Jennifer pressed a button on the control box she held. Current flowed down wires threaded through the ropes leading to their anal hooks. They yelped and their buttocks clenched tight as they were shocked, driving them on to greater efforts. In a minute Jennifer gasped and bucked her hips, wetting Kashika’s face with her discharge and then collapsed, leaving her two slaves dangling over her.

  After a minute Jennifer let some slack into the ropes and pulled both girls round to lie on either side of her in her arms and looked at their flushed faces.

  ‘Well … you two really are fantastic together. I didn’t think I could cum again today, but … wow!’

  ‘Thank you, Mistress,’ they both said.

  ‘If anybody had told me this morning I’d be doing this right now I wouldn’t have believed them,’ Jennifer said, then smiled wanly. ‘How Mike would love to watch!’

  The three of them were alone in the room. At Jennifer’s request Mike had moved to another bedroom. She had not told him what she had seen from the mummy case, just that she wanted to be alone and that she didn’t mind if he made use of the castle girls. He’d been hurt at being rejected but clearly appreciated the compensation.

  ‘I feel responsible for your break-up with Master Mike, Mistress,’ Vanessa said sorrowfully.

  ‘And I’m sorry I led him to the dungeon, Mistress,’ Kashika added.

  ‘Only because I ordered her to, Mistress,’ Vanessa said quickly.

  Jennifer thumbed the button on the handset and they yelped as the anal hooks delivered warning jolts.

  ‘Stop it, both of you! There’s nothing to apologise for. You’ve made me accept what I am and I’m more grateful than you can imagine. As for Mike it would have happened soon enough. I think I was outgrowing him. When he got back in touch with me I thought he had changed for the better. He had a bit, but not enough.’ She chuckled softly and hugged them both. ‘Though I suppose I’ll always be grateful for him getting me in here. In fact, at first he handled this better than I did.’

  ‘You had your own problems, Mistress,’ Vanessa reminded her.

  ‘I know. And I suppose they weren’t helped by you people treating us like spies. Who are these enemies you have that you’re so frightened of anyway? You never said.’

  ‘I must leave that to the Director to explain if she thinks it best, Mistress,’ Vanessa said. ‘Let’s say it’s somebody rich and powerful who runs a rival slave business not as caring as this one. They’d love to get their hands on incriminating photos of our guests, or better yet our Director, together with slave girls, to use as blackmail and take over the Glen. They’ve tried once before to smuggle micro-cameras into one of our buildings.’

  ‘So that was why those searches were so bloody intimate?’

  ‘Yes, Mistress. I’m afraid it was making us paranoid. I’m glad you and Master Mike turned out not to be spies.’

  Jennifer looked thoughtful. ‘Still, we could always pretend you and Kashika were spies.’

  ‘Mistress?’

  ‘Tomorrow shall we play “Interrogations” down in the dungeons?’

  ‘That sounds like a great game, Mistress,’ said Vanessa happily.

  Twelve

  THE DAY OF Glen Lothy’s unique Highland Games dawned bright and clear.

  Vanessa had been up early. While Cherry Chain were putting in some last-minute practice, Vanessa, with her reporter’s hat on and camera in hand, was recording the background preparations before the guests started to arrive and she would have to put her camera away. With the shots she’d got yesterday of the girls in practice and formal pictures of the winners she could take after the event, she’d have enough images for her article.

  The Games were held in a large clearing amongst the trees on a shelf of land a little way up the hillside above the castle. Pavilion tents had been erected around the perimeter the day before and track and field event lanes and markers had been laid out on the grass. Now chairs were being set out and catering arrangements made. Carts laden with the necessities were being hauled up from the castle by teams of slave girls.

  Vanessa saw Mike hurrying between the castle and the field, fetching and carrying with enthusiasm. He was now dressed in his shirt with a borrowed kilt and long Highland socks and was clearly trying hard to impress the Laird. He and Jennifer appeared to have come to a cordial understanding over the parting of the ways. At the moment she was enjoying a ride on a ponygirl trap, but she would be back in good time for the Games.

  Vanessa liked roaming about naked in such a beautiful setting taking pictures. The staff all knew her by now, were flattered to answer her questions and pose for photographs while they worked, but otherwise generally left her to go where she pleased while she had her hat on and was in full journalistic mode. It was a freedom few other people would ever know and an undeniable perk of being a slave reporter.

  She wandered down through the trees to the service yard at the back of the state offices. A Land Rover came down the hill track and turned into the service yard towing on the end of a chain behind it half of the tree that had blown down over the fence. It parked by an open shed where a couple of sawhorses had been set up. Mister Stewart climbed out of the passenger door.

  Vanessa took a few snaps and then asked: ‘Please, Mister Stewart, what are you doing?’

  ‘The old log for the hauling contest has split, girl, so we thought we’d put this to good use.’

  Vanessa snapped the tree. She should have taken a picture of it earlier for her UNEXPECTED GUESTS article, but she’d had other more pressing concerns at the time. This would have to do.

  Then she paused and looked closer at the trunk.

  ‘Stand clear, girl,’ said Stewart, ‘we want to trim it down.’

  ‘Please, Master, wait a minute. What’s that?’

  Stewart peered closer, reached between the branches and rubbed at the trunk. ‘That’s just a scrape in the bark with some earth in.’

  ‘But how did it get there? It didn’t come from the chain you used. That’s nowhere near it.’

  ‘Must be a gash from the fence then.’

  ‘It looks too broad … Please, Mister Stewart, have you got some water? It’s important.’

  Looking at her very oddly he took a water bottle out of the car and handed it to her. She poured some on the truck and rubbed. A pale gash appeared running halfway round the trunk.

  ‘This is quite a smooth mark, ver
y even and fresh,’ Vanessa said. ‘Something scraped across it. But why was it covered with earth?’

  ‘It must have come off the ground when it came down,’ said Stewart.

  ‘But with the branches in the way how could that part of the trunk touch the ground?’ She took a close-up photograph. ‘Somebody must have rubbed earth into it to disguise the gash.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, girl, who’d want to do that? It’s probably a splash. It was wet at the time.’

  ‘So why wasn’t it washed away …’ Suddenly she shivered. ‘Oh … of course!’ It felt like pieces of a puzzle falling into place in her brain. It was so obvious! But she had to be absolutely sure. ‘Please, Mister Stewart, can you get the key to the gate nearest to where the tree fell and drive me up there? This is very important.’

  ‘I’ve got plenty to do down here, girl, instead of worrying about a bit of mud.’

  Vanessa took a deep breath and touched her white collar. ‘If you don’t help me now, Mister Stewart, I’ll tell the Laird and the Director. If I’m wrong you can beat me for it but please do this for me!’

  Grumbling, Stewart went into the office and fetched the key while his companion unhitched the tree, and then, with Vanessa in the passenger seat, they roared off up the hill.

  He opened the gate and drove them through and out along the outside of the fence until they got close to the place where the tree had come down. She saw the broken stump with its splintered top through the fence and said: ‘Stop here, please, Mister Stewart.’

  Vanessa sprang out and began searching the ground while Stewart looked on with a disgruntled frown. She didn’t even consider that she was naked but for her hat and beyond the Glen’s protective fence, or that there was a chance a walker might come along. Even if it had she would not have cared. This was too important.

  She found the tracks and a scattering of sawdust where the Glen vehicle had gone out to salvage the tree three days earlier and then moved further away from the fence across the tussock grass. There had to be some sign. She kicked at a raised sod of turf. It came loose. She looked around. Yes, there was the other one. A thrill coursed through her as she took a picture of her find. She’d been right.