The baron gently unfastened the pearls from around his mistress’s neck, releasing her hair as he did so, in order that it could spill over her shoulder in wild disarray.
When he sat back on his stool he turned to Nicola and showed her the strand of pearls. ‘Once Cassandra has taken these inside her I shall remove them very slowly, and as each pearl comes out she will have a climax. That, I think, should more than compensate for her initial discomfort. Do you approve?’
Nicola was trembling from head to foot. She couldn’t believe that one day he would do anything so diabolical to her, and yet guessed in her heart of hearts that it was true. She found it equally hard to believe that the woman bent double in front of them, her muscles clenched against the invasion of her rectum, could produce any kind of climax by the end of the session, let alone a series, but she didn’t intend to voice her doubt to this extraordinary, terrifying and yet magnetic man whom she wanted to please more than she’d ever wanted to please anyone.
‘I think she’s very lucky,’ she said shyly.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? In that case we must bring your lesson forward a little. Now then Cassandra, time for the pearls.’
Cassandra, who had been tightly clenching her buttocks in order to keep the slowly melting cream deep within her, shivered at his words. She had never done this before, never taken the cool smoothness of pearls inside herself, and she wondered how it would be possible.
The baron swiftly removed the clasp at the end of the strand and knotted the remaining cord. He then covered the knot in some of the cream from the bowl, eased open the parting between the quivering buttocks in front of him and twisted against the resisting flesh.
‘Contract your muscles, draw in the end,’ he told Cassandra, and as she obeyed she felt her pelvic muscles contract as well which tightened her whole pelvic area and for the first time started to arouse her previously dormant clitoris.
‘Every time a pearl needs to be taken in you must repeat the contraction,’ said the baron, delighted by her swift compliance with his instructions. ‘As you probably remember, they increase in size for a time and then decrease. I will let you know when you manage to take in the largest!’
‘May I go round in front of her?’ asked Nicola, her own body beginning to swell with excitement at the scene that was unfolding. She wanted to see the expression on the other woman’s face as the pearls were drawn inside her tender flesh.
The baron was surprised but concealed the fact. ‘If you wish,’ he agreed. ‘Don’t distract her though. This takes a great deal of concentration, as you will learn,’ he added warningly, in case she was enjoying the episode too much.
For Cassandra, drawing in the first few pearls proved relatively easy. Her rear opening had been well lubricated by the cream and each tightening of the muscles increased the excitement between her thighs, but when the pearls increased in size she found it more difficult and by the time she reached what the baron assured her was the largest it seemed as though her rectum was already full as the pearls nestled in a coiled heap within the slowly melting pool of cream.
Nicola, standing in front of Cassandra now, saw the other woman’s eyes grow large and watched her breasts shaking as she attempted to bring her muscles under control. ‘I can’t, Dieter, I really can’t,’ she whispered, disappointment and despair clear in her voice.
He stood up and let a hand move smoothly and slowly down her rounded spine. ‘Of course you can, my love. Trust me, after this it will be wonderful. See, I’ll help you.’
As he spoke he reached beneath her and his fingers eased themselves between her outer labia, sliding up the inner sides of them towards where her slowly expanding nub of pleasure was waiting for him. As he located it, he heard Cassandra’s soft sigh of gratitude. He then massaged with the very lightest of touches on each side of the nub so that the stimulated pelvic muscles automatically began to contract.
Very quickly he pressed the largest of the pearls against the now pulsating mouth of her bottom and as her clitoris continued to send shivers of pleasure through her, the muscular contractions spread from front to back and almost without realising it she drew the largest pearl into her back passage where it joined the rest of the strand.
After that it was easy for the final few pearls, decreasing in size now, to be inserted until finally there was only the end of the thread left hanging, together with the half of the clasp that the baron had not had to remove.
‘Well done, darling girl,’ he whispered against her ear, bending over the bar and her heart leapt at his use of the endearment that he kept only for her. ‘All that follows will be pleasure,’ he promised before moving back to his stool once more.
He was as good as his word. The very first tug on the necklace caused the inner walls of Cassandra’s rectum to move outwards, and they in turn moved the walls of her vagina. This, combined with a sharp tap against her clitoris every time a pearl was extracted meant that tiny orgasmic shocks swept up across her still tight but no longer aching abdomen and the more pearls that were removed the greater the pleasure grew, until it came to the last one.
Here the baron paused. He got Peter to leave Cassandra’s breasts, and instead had him hold her clitoral hood firmly up, leaving the moist, tight nub totally exposed. Cassandra waited, holding her breath as she prepared for his final move.
From the tray the baron took a tiny circle of sponge, covered it in lubricating cream and then moved his free hand so that the sponge was poised directly above the waiting bud. Cassandra knew that his hand was there, but had no idea what was in it. All she could do was trust him.
‘Now for the last pearl,’ he murmured, and as she bore down in order to help pull it free, she pressed her clitoris down too and it connected with the lubricated sponge which he then rotated at speed, with the result that her nerve endings, for so long tensed and desperate for the right firm, steady pressure, were suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of sensations that seemed to go on forever as he continued to press and roll the sponge. He could feel the swollen hardness beneath it slipping and sliding while Cassandra’s whole body went stiff with the sudden violent rush of ecstatic pleasure.
Her feet left the lower bar as her legs straightened and her head shot upwards while her hands gripped the beam at the sides of her body. She rolled from side to side on the towelling, the stimulation across her upper stomach only increasing the incredible intensity of her orgasm.
She made no sound, but the sight of her whole body contracting and her hair cascading across her back and shoulders with every movement excited the baron even more than the previous punishment had done. Swiftly he pulled her off the beams and then carried her across to the carpet in the middle of the room, tearing off his own clothes as soon as he’d laid her down. Totally ignoring the others in the room he covered Cassandra’s body with his own and thrust into her. He thrust without finesse, without any build-up of rhythm but with a desperate urgency whose excitement communicated itself to all the onlookers so that they were each, in their own way, left aching with desire and stunned by the ferocity of his need.
For Cassandra this savage coupling, accompanied as it was by tender murmurings in his own languge – murmurings she understood only by their tone – was more than recompense for what she’d endured before-hand. When he withdrew from her, and turned to dismiss the others before taking Cassandra to her room, she knew that Nicola would be more disconcerted by his uncontrollable obsession to possess her immediately than by anything else she’d witnessed.
As she drifted off to sleep a short time later, the baron sat beside her, one hand stroking her forehead. ‘You will win, liebling, I’m sure of it,’ he whispered, almost to himself.
With an effort she opened her eyes. ‘If it matters that much, why did you decide to play the game?’ she asked sleepily.
He looked puzzled by the question. ‘Because it is the way I am. I have no choice,’ he replied. ‘There must always be a risk for me too in these games, otherwise how ca
n I satisfy my gambling instincts?’
‘She’s very determined,’ Cassandra whispered as she finally fell asleep.
The baron knew it; and knew too that the result was far from a foregone conclusion. He didn’t mind, the closer the contest, the greater the stakes, the higher his level of enjoyment. So far it was all going very well.
The next morning the baron had left the chateau before either of the women were awake, leaving word with Peter that he’d be back in time for dinner. Nicola, clearly exhausted by the events of the previous day, scarcely touched her croissants and only managed half a cup of coffee before getting up from the table and walking restlessly over to the window.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Cassandra, worried that the girl was frightened and homesick.
‘When’s the baron coming back?’ Nicola sounded anxious.
‘Tonight; he often has to go away for a day or so at a time. I’m usually grateful, it gives me a chance to recharge my batteries!’ laughed Cassandra.
‘If I were his mistress I’d want to be with him all of the time.’
Cassandra sighed inwardly. Not only was Nicola tired, it appeared she was in a prickly mood as well and with their visitors arriving the next day this must be smoothed as quickly as possible.
‘I’m afraid the baron is basically a solitary person. He likes to spend time without the woman in his life at his side.’
‘You mean he likes independent women?’ This was clearly a blow to the young English girl, who’d never been independent in her life.
Cassandra wondered how on earth she could ever attempt to explain the baron to the girl when she still didn’t fully understand him herself. ‘No, I don’t think he likes independent women in the way you mean, but he certainly doesn’t care for clinging vines. He has to have a lot of space.’
‘And a lot of love?’
‘Love?’ Cassandra couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. When she thought about all Nicola had endured and watched the previous day it seemed an incongruous word to use.
‘Men like him, men who pretend that they don’t care about feelings, are often hiding the fact that they really need a lot of love. His mother might have neglected him when he was a child. I read that in a book on psychology,’ Nicola added helpfully.
‘I don’t think Dieter is exactly textbook material,’ remarked Cassandra. ‘He’s simply an unusual man; someone rich and powerful enough to indulge himself in any way he likes. What he says and the way he behaves are what he is.’
Nicola turned to face Cassandra, tucking her fair hair behind her ears as she spoke. ‘I know you’ve been with him much longer than I have, but I don’t think you’re right,’ she said politely. ‘I’ve spent so much time on my own that I’ve done a lot of reading, and psychology became something of a hobby of mine. There’s more to him than you realise.’
‘There’s a great deal more to him than you realise,’ responded Cassandra tartly, irritated by Nicola’s assumption that she understood the baron already. ‘As time passes you may well find yourself revising some of these interesting but misplaced early theories.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go and make sure everything is prepared for our visitors tomorrow. Then I thought we could take a boat across the lake and go for a walk. The countryside’s beautiful round here, and so far you haven’t seen anything of it.’
Nicola bit her bottom lip. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve annoyed you, haven’t I? I didn’t mean to, it’s just that he’s so fascinating.’
‘Now there,’ said Cassandra with a smile, ‘I have to agree with you.’
An hour later the two of them took a small, rickety fishing boat from the end of an equally antiquated wooden pier that ran out into the water and then Cassandra rowed them across the lake at the back of the chateau.
‘When I arrived I couldn’t believe how beautiful it looked,’ remarked Nicola. ‘It’s like something out of a fairy story.’
‘Yes, but remember that what goes on inside the chateau isn’t exactly the stuff that romances are made of,’ cautioned Cassandra, carefully tying the boat up to the pole on the opposite side and helping Nicola out.
They crossed the narrow winding road that Peter had driven along only forty-eight hours earlier, although it seemed like a lifetime ago to Nicola, and then walked along a lane that was little more than a track over-shadowed by trees, before coming out at the edge to a huge ripening cornfield, flanked along three sides by dark green forests. The contrasting colours and the bright blue sky above with only a few cotton wool clouds drifting lazily by, resembled a photograph from a travel brochure and Nicola drew in a deep breath of air.
‘It’s so beautiful here, I often come across just to relax and unwind,’ said Cassandra. ‘We can follow this path round the edge of the field and then sit in the shade of one of the trees and talk.’
They walked halfway around the field and then Nicola pleaded exhaustion and sank down on the ground. ‘Tell me about our visitors,’ she suggested. ‘Will I like them? Are they my age, or the baron’s?’
‘I’ve known Rupert and Françoise Piccard for nearly two years now,’ said Cassandra quietly. ‘He’s probably a bit younger than Dieter and very handsome. He’s got long black hair and vivid blue eyes with black lashes like a girl. He’s also tall, over six foot and quite slim but athletic because he used to be a keen sportsman.’
‘Sounds gorgeous,’ commented Nicola.
‘It’s his wife who’s gorgeous! She was a model so there’s no point in even attempting to compete with her. I think she originally came from Brazil, although she doesn’t talk about her past much, and she’s got that kind of exotic smouldering beauty so many girls from Latin American countries seem to have.’
‘Does the baron like her?’ asked Nicola quickly.
Cassandra hesitated. ‘He certainly finds her sexy, but I’m not sure that he likes her all that much. She’s quite hard really.’
‘You said there are three people coming. Who’s the third?’
‘I don’t know him personally, I’m afraid. His name’s Giovanni Benelli, he’s only twenty-two, which makes him more your age than Dieter’s, and from what I’ve been told his parents are very rich so he’s probably thoroughly spoilt and very sought-after by all the rich jet-setting European girls.’
‘I wonder what he looks like? Some Italian men can be fantastic,’ mused Nicola.
‘My, whatever happened to that shy girl who turned up two days ago!’ laughed Cassandra. ‘If he wasn’t attractive I don’t imagine for one moment that he’d be a friend of Rupert and Françoise; they only like beautiful people!’
‘You mean he’s Françoise’s lover?’ exclaimed Nicola, suddenly reverting to her previous innocence.
‘I’m quite sure he has been.’
‘Have you ever had an affair with this Rupert then?’ asked Nicola, twiddling with a blade of grass and unable to meet Cassandra’s eyes.
‘I’ve slept with him, had sex with him, yes, but I wouldn’t call it an affair. The baron likes to share things with his friends.’
Suddenly Nicola’s head came up and now she looked the other woman directly in the eyes. ‘Are you trying to tell me that I’ll be expected to …?’
Cassandra put a hand over the girl’s. ‘Nicola, there are many, many things that you’ll be expected to do over the next few weeks. Things you’ve probably never heard of or dreamt about in your whole life. That’s really why I wanted us to come out here today, so that I could warn you, prepare you. You seem to have such an idealistic view of the baron and the kind of person he is.’
‘You just want to frighten me!’ shouted Nicola, jumping to her feet. ‘You’re trying to trick me, to make me be friendly to this Giovanni so that the baron will get annoyed, that’s it isn’t it? You’re jealous of the attention I’m getting and so you’re going to frighten me away.’
‘I don’t want to frighten you, or make trouble for you, I’m trying to help you,’ said Cassandra reassuringly.
Cassandra stood up, smoothing pieces of grass and corn from her skirt. ‘As you like, but you should listen to me, Nicola. I’m only trying to help.’
‘I don’t need your help. You’re afraid the baron will like me better than you, that’s all it is. I’m younger, and I can sense what he really needs from a woman.’
‘In that case there’s nothing more to be said,’ said Cassandra crisply. ‘In future I’ll let you find things out for yourself. I had to when I first went to live in his house, I thought it would be kinder to give you a little advice. It seems I was wrong.’
‘I’m tougher than I look,’ said Nicola fiercely. ‘I’ve had to be. No one’s looked after me for years. I don’t need your help, but you’re right about one thing. I want to stay here, to be with the baron, and if that means that you have to leave then I’m very sorry but I won’t let it stop me. Is that clear?’
Cassandra looked at the girl’s flushed cheeks, bright eyes and tightly clenched hands and knew that there was no point in trying to reason with her. ‘It’s very clear,’ she assured her. ‘From now on you’re on your own, Nicola. Let’s go back shall we, the sun seems to be going in.’
Strangely enough, it was Nicola who felt depressed as they rowed back across the deep lake. She liked Cassandra, even admired her, but sensed that there would never be room for them both to live permanently at the chateau. It was a pity though that Cassandra appeared so friendly; it would have been easier if she’d been someone Nicola could hate.
Chapter Eight
On the Saturday morning when the new arrivals were due, Nicola took extra care with her clothes when dressing. She chose a cotton panelled skirt with sea-blue, white and brown flowers on a beige background and topped it with a plain white cotton T-shirt teamed with a crocheted beige waistcoat. The overall effect was casual but more sophisticated than any of her summer dresses.
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