The Castle of Pleasure,
the Fake Ingenue I
Hot Pleasures
Vonnick de Rosemadec
SHE MIGHT BE BATTLE-HARDENED, and her role as director of the Castle of Pleasure might have introduced her to some curious acquaintances over the years, but the marquise had never before been confronted with such a scenario.
A young woman of twenty three was sitting in front of her, pulling down on her skirt—though it was more than decent—to hide her knees from the director’s inquisitive gaze. This indication of modesty was not in keeping with the wish to spice up her wedding night, which she had just outlined.
This charming girl, Lisbeth, had, in fact, just asked whether it would be possible to enact her most secret desire in this “leisure center,” as she had just called the place of discreet debauchery over which Ghislaine presided.
Now, whenever she heard the term leisure center to describe her castle, the director corrected it by saying: “Let’s say instead: pleasure center for the amusement of dicks and pussies,” adding without a blink: “Here we call a spade a spade and a penis a knob.” An explanation that did not fail to surprise newcomers.
Despite her innocent appearance, Lisbeth did not seem shocked by the hostess’s clarification. She had not blinked at hearing the respectable dowager using such crude terms. It has to be said that the desire she had just expressed was neither ordinary nor particularly decent. Ghislaine cleared her throat and gazed at her visitor.
“Tell me if I have understood you correctly. You are getting married in two weeks, and this week you wish to retire your life as a prudish young girl by gorging yourself on love between my walls.”
Lisbeth nodded her head. “Yes, that’s right.”
“And to celebrate the happy day, you wish to be taken in your wedding dress by several men at once without your husband suspecting a thing?”
“Exactly. I want to experience that great moment a week before.”
The marquise rang her silver bell.
“Will you have something to drink: gin, vodka, or whiskey?”
“If you have tea …”
“Yes, of course.”
Mimi appeared in her usual outfit: naked beneath her little white apron. Her round buttocks were exposed, as were a stray tuft of her bush and her breasts, bared by her plunging neckline.
Lisbeth looked her up and down and gave her a smile.
Ghislaine felt like drinking something stronger but asked her maid to bring them the Russian tea she favored.
Mimi deliberately brushed against the girl who, most unexpectedly, stretched out a hand toward her rear, which she brazenly patted.
The marquise was disconcerted. She no longer knew whom she was with. Hearing her guest’s perverse request had already startled her, and now here was this same young woman, who looked for all the world like an inaccessible virgin, behaving like a … like a … she could not find the words to describe her behavior. Libertine, maybe? To hide her surprise, she assumed an offhand air as soon as Mimi had left the room.
“Perhaps you would also like a young woman like that to attend your night of jubilation?”
“Well, that hadn’t occurred to me, but that would be rather fun—especially as your maid seems to have a rather joyful nature.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Indeed, she is never in a bad mood. But to return to your wedding night, how many lovers would you like?”
“At least three, but four or five wouldn’t scare me.… Whom do you have to offer? Age is not important to me.”
The marquise took matters into her own hands.
“And is the size of these gentlemen’s tools very important to you?”
The young woman burst out laughing.
“As long as it’s an active instrument, that’s the main thing!”
Who was this character? Ghislaine wondered. I’ve never met a girl like her!
Ghislaine went over to her bookcase and chose three folders of photos and descriptions, which she then put down on her desk.
“If you’d like to choose …”
Lisbeth sprang up eagerly and flicked through the album greedily, emitting little admiring whistles when she saw a man displaying an erection.
The marquise pretended to be absorbed in reading a file so that she could observe the young woman better. She did not understand why this pretty brunette with her rounded—though not excessively—body was haunted by such an obsession. A moment earlier, she had seemed like a rather uptight middle-class girl who would have preferred to go to church on Sunday than visit a lover, and now here she was contemplating dicks raised up to the sky that seemed to move her to the core.
Then Ghislaine had to stifle her surprise: the “oh so proper” young woman had just grabbed hold of her mound through her beige linen skirt and was rubbing her index and middle fingers up and down at a precise point of her anatomy that could only be her clitoris. Her cheeks were pink with emotion.
The director, of course, had nothing against this kind of practice. But the individual concerned had to belong to her organization before she could send herself flying into it. Now, Lisbeth had not yet paid her dues and was already about to come with the aid of photographs of the faithful members of her club! This annoyed Ghislaine, so she decided to distract Lisbeth from her session of free masturbation.
“Do you see something you like among my Apollos?”
The future bride stopped rubbing herself and, jiggling about, once more became a nice young girl as she pointed to five men, among them, Jean-Baptiste, the basketball champion who had so delighted the widow.
“Do you think they’d be happy to play this little game?”
“I’m sure they would. I have to ask them first, of course.”
“What if they refuse?”
“That would surprise me. But if they do, you can choose others.”
The visitor looked puzzled.
“There’s something I don’t understand. These men are paid for this kind of service?”
The marquise did a double take. Her anger almost brimmed over but, with some difficulty, she managed to hold herself in check.
“Are you kidding? Nobody here pays to take pleasure. I’m not the keeper of a brothel! All I do is put people in touch with one another. Everyone who enrolls here is in search of enjoyment, you understand. So when a new lady turns up, these gentlemen start to get excited. And when a new gentleman knocks on my door, it is these ladies who want to get to know him. There is no lack of candidates. We form a large family of members who love who they want when they want. What I can tell you is that the men and women who have ‘sampled’ my place of pleasure once are soon unable to do without it. And even if you are coming here for a rather particular wedding night, I lay bets that you will acquire a taste for my house and that you will come back to try out other scenarios.”
Lisbeth assumed a doubtful expression that did not please the marquise in the least—particularly as she saw fit to murmur a “we’ll see; everything in good time,” which exasperated Ghislaine. All at once, the marquise decided she was going to silence this chattering fool.
“I have to ask you several extremely personal questions before proceeding with your enrollment. But first of all, get undressed. I want to see what I’m dealing with—if you are really a woman as you claim. You know, I’ve seen such a procession of freaks …”
“You want me to strip in front of you?”
The bold young woman who had seemed so sure of herself suddenly seemed vulnerable.
“Yes, yes, strip; show yourself! Take off everything you have above and bel
ow the belt. I want to assess you from your head to your pussy and then to your feet.”
Understanding that if she refused to exhibit herself in this way, the adventure would come to a brusque end and the director would throw her out, politely but surely, she unzipped her skirt and took it off. She stood there in her underwear, or rather boxers, that hid everything with their volume: her buttocks, her mound, the top of her thighs …
The marquise laughed softly.
“I hope you will wear more alluring underthings for your wedding night. You’ll put lacy thong on your cunt for me. What a strange idea to wear such undergarments! Come on, remove this veritable chastity belt, and get your bush out in the air.”
At that moment, Mimi came in, placed her tray on a low table, and went over to the newcomer, still clad in her panties.
“Are you a virgin?”
Her eyes opened wide with surprise.
“Yes—well, no, not entirely.”
“What do you mean by ‘yes—well, no’? Have you been deflowered, penetrated by a virile member or any other instrument, yes or no?” Ghislaine asked.
Lisbeth bit her lip. She had lost her aplomb and was now acting like a shy, inexperienced schoolgirl.
“Well, let’s say that my fiancé deflowered me last year and that since then we have made love hastily whenever we could because our families mustn’t find out. They watch us all the time. For my parents, a properly raised girl must be intact at her marriage. And though my body is no longer virgin, I have to admit that I have never experienced an orgasm with my fiancé, the only man who has been near me.”
“What a mess, my child! I understand better why you’re here now. Though hasn’t he stimulated your clit like you were doing so well earlier?”
“Well …”
“All right, I see. Don’t lie. You’ve fucked in the missionary position, without novelty.”
Ghislaine had adopted an authoritarian voice and had put on glasses to seem more severe. Pen in the air, she pretended she was consulting a list.
“Blow jobs, sodomy?”
“Sorry?”
The director sighed and assumed a weary air.
“I am asking you if you have performed fellatio, taken your fiancé’s rod in your pretty mouth to suck it off, and if he has sodomized you. It’s a simple question, surely. The answer should not be any more complicated.”
“Simple? Oh no! That’s partly why I’ve come to see you. My future husband knows absolutely nothing about love games. One day I talked to him about sodomy and asked if he could introduce me to it. He went as white as a sheet. I can still hear him exclaiming, ‘Good heavens, Lisbeth, that’s just for homosexuals! A good husband would not dishonor his wife by such a practice!’ As for me, taking his … well, his sex in my mouth and sucking it, there’s no question of that either. When I talked about it in a roundabout way, telling him that my best friend, Mireille, did it to her husband regularly, he just gaped at me.”
“Where on earth was this young man brought up?”
“In a seminary. After our first kiss, he threw his cassock in the bin.”
“And yet he’s still uptight. It’s strange. I’ve known former seminarians who, after giving up the priesthood, have thrown themselves into ‘the pleasures of the flesh,’ as they say. Terrific lovers hungry for everything related to screwing. Anyway, maybe after the experience that you want to have here, you’ll know how to drive your husband crazy and, who knows, maybe one day he’ll follow you here for a good time.”
The girl lifted her arms to the sky as though in exaltation.
“I only hope you’re right.”
This movement enabled the astonished director to catch sight of her armpits, which were furnished with great clumps of hair. For several decades now, all females—from teenage girls to mature women—had thinned under the arms and the pussy, entrusting this delicate task to the hands of skilled beauticians. And here was Lisbeth, unshaven!
The director immediately wanted to know more.
“Before enrolling you, I need to see what your body looks like. I have already asked you to undress, miss.”
“You really want me to strip naked?”
“Good lord! I hope you won’t play the affected madam when your five lovers leap on you.…”
The girl made a little cooing noise and then slipped her panties down her thighs. Mimi contemplated her with greedy eyes.
“May I?”
Mimi knelt in front of the future bride and, gripping the undies, peeled them slowly down the length of Lisbeth’s legs.
She could not contain her cry of admiration before the thickest, heaviest, and most extensive of muffs. Ghislaine went over to contemplate this cunt in its natural state, covered in a forest that rose up to the navel and paused there, only to take off again between the breasts, where it flourished anew—as Mimi realized when she removed the new client’s top and bra to leave her stark naked.
Mimi was intrigued.
“Oh, what a bush, what a bush; it’s fantastic! How wonderful to see a cunt in its natural state, wild, not yet spoiled—and what a good idea to have preserved this foliage. I want to eat it, devour it, pluck it out …”
Ghislaine looked at the newcomer’s pubes attentively and then, with a blow of her long cigarette holder to the plump buttocks, turned her around.
“Let’s have a look at this ass that your poor fiancé is neglecting. Knowing that it is going to be smashed open by five rods amuses me—or rather, excites me. Look!”
Before the girl’s astonished eyes, Ghislaine lifted her own dress and went over to her.
“Here, touch me, darling. You’ll see how wet you’re making me.”
Authoritatively, she caught hold of her client’s hand and took it to her source.
“Go on, frisk me, my dear.… We have to get you to jump in at the deep end, if I can put it like that.”
The fake ingenue hesitated. She had not thought that her first interview would plunge her into such a whirlwind of debauchery. She wasn’t here to be checked out and caressed by women. She had come to put an end to her maiden’s life with males, with dicks of all shapes and sizes and to all tastes. But if she had to go through this after all, if she really wanted her fantasy wedding night, she had to obey the orders of the mistress of the house—a mistress who now showed herself to be extremely authoritarian, turning to Mimi to issue a command.
“Hold her buttocks apart. I want to see if her hair is as abundant around her little hole as it is around her pussy.”
Mimi obeyed her.
Yes, the muff of the stomach continued into her crack and rose up toward her waist. Ghislaine caught hold of several hairs that were escaping from the hairy posterior and pulled them out, laughing.
The girl cried out.
“You’re crazy!”
“No, merely overwhelmed to see you so well-endowed with hair. I feel like I’m back in the Stone Age. Have you never thought of shaving your armpits or between the breasts, or of tidying up your Mount of Venus?”
Lisbeth wondered what these two women were leading up to.
“No, in my family we have never had the right to alter what God gave us. And we women have all, generation after generation, been endowed with this thick pubic hair. They say that men, real ones, like this natural, wild appearance. It’s better than aphrodisiac perfume, it seems.…”
Ghislaine nodded her head reflectively.
“You might be right. We will see what your castle lovers make of it during your wedding night. It would be amusing to see a new fashion trend thanks to you, especially in my home. At a time when it’s the popular thing to get a bikini wax, it would be fun to see hair coming back in force. I am sure that scientists would soon find a way of encouraging hair growth.”
“Not so sure,” remarked Mimi. “They haven’t yet found a cure for bald heads.”
“You say that because it wouldn’t be a good thing for girls like you, who wage a fierce battle against hair. Show your pubis to Lisbet
h, Mimi.”
The chambermaid laughed as she lifted up her apron and displayed her perfectly hairless cunt.
“It’s a good thing, all the same.… It highlights my lips and, if you look closely, my little fellow in his sanctuary. Don’t you agree?”
She held out her pelvis, offering it to Lisbeth.
“If you want to taste it, feel free. Suck it for me. I adore that.…”
Hearing this proposition, Lisbeth drew back instinctively. She gathered up her clothes and was about to get dressed again.
Ghislaine saw her reticence, terror even.
“From now on, my dear Lisbeth, nothing should shock you. Of course, you can refuse certain practices—for example stimulating me on the spot—but you should know that all agreement will play in your favor. The more you accept unknown situations, the richer your sexual blossoming—it will be all the more complete and successful. If you do not want to caress me in the way I ask right now, tell me at once. Mimi will finish me off, you understand. On the other hand, if you show yourself to be active and insert three fingers into that very place, moving them as you turn them, you will become one of the clitorises of honor. Come on, try!”
The girl came and placed herself against the director, stretched out her hand shyly, and began to fondle her.
“Yes, like that. That’s good, oh that’s good. Go on!”
Mimi, not wanting to be left out, knelt in front of Lisbeth and began licking her, laughing as she lost her way in the thick forest that protected the entrance.
Ghislaine continued her little speech, all the while stroking the new girl’s hair and approaching her mouth.
“I have promoted some of my clientele, male of course, to the rank of members of honor. A sort of certificate of good behavior, if you will. That distinction has the advantage of reassuring them of their virility. They have better erections.…”
The director closed her eyes as the new girl’s touch became more and more targeted. Her voice began to fluctuate.
“Yes, go on, my dear, that’s very good, yes, you’re turning me on, I’m going to come …”
Lisbeth, subjugated by the initiatives that Ghislaine was taking but also by the tongue of Mimi who, without having been invited, had plunged into the softness of her belly, also felt she was approaching orgasm.
The Castle of Pleasure, the Fake Ingenue I (Hot Pleasures) Page 1