‘Then I think you should come,’ announced the baron and he pressed upwards on the skin at the base of her pelvis so that her honey-coated clitoris was fully exposed to him. He lapped tenderly at the tip for a few seconds and then as she began to tremble violently he curled up the edges of his tongue and stabbed at the underside of the swollen bud with the pointed end, drumming against the honey-slick centre of her satisfaction.
With a wail of despair Sophie’s body gave up the struggle and the baron and his watching visitors stared at her as every muscle seemed to contract and ripple beneath her skin while she arched forward from the bars, her eyes wild with relief and fear as her over-stimulated body thrashed helplessly backwards and forwards until finally she slumped forwards against her bonds, her head on her chest and her eyes closed in exhaustion and defeat.
‘Untie them both,’ said the baron swiftly. ‘The next round is the last. If Monique loses then it will be a draw. If not, then Sophie goes to the punishment chair.’
‘If it’s a draw, don’t either of them get punished?’ asked Nicola, disappointment clear in her voice.
‘No, they both get rewarded. Peter will take the pair of them to his room for the night. Possibly a greater reward for Monique, who wants to be his mistress and isn’t, than for Sophie who already is and has no desire to share him, but such is life.’
‘I think there ought to be a loser,’ complained Nicola.
The baron touched her lightly on the shoulder. ‘Be careful, Nicola. Remember, tomorrow you yourself are to be punished for your lack of self-control earlier today. After that you may not be quite so anxious to have others punished.’
Both the maids were listening to the conversation and both of them knew that this was not a woman they wanted as mistress of the chateau. Cassandra, along with the baron, was exacting and capable of taking them into unexpected depths of depravity, but she was always fair and her ultimate aim was pleasure. For Nicola it seemed that pain was the more exciting choice.
As the baron and Nicola talked, Giovanni and Rupert were pulling two vaulting horses away from the wall and placing them in the centre of the room. They were slightly wider than normal, and both surfaces were covered with a deep cushion of soft rubber.
On closer inspection it was clear that certain alterations had been made to them. There were three straps across the top and towards one end circles had been cut out. Beneath the circles there were thick rubber cups. Another segment had been cut away in the middle, and a third towards the opposite end.
Sophie and Monique were given a brief glimpse of the vaulting horses and then a black satin blindfold was put over their eyes. ‘Lack of vision increases your other senses,’ said the baron smoothly as the girls began to shiver. He then turned to Cassandra, running his hands down her arms and over her hips and feeling her tremble like a young filly at his touch. The competition was arousing her and he couldn’t wait to take her later that evening, if possible with the Italian watching.
‘You are to work on Monique, liebling,’ he murmured. ‘It should be easy to make her come first. She is not as tired as Sophie.’ Cassandra nodded. She was almost frantic for the feel of her lover’s hands and the weight of his body on her as he entered her after one of their prolonged lovemaking sessions that usually followed games like this.
‘As for you, Nicola,’ he continued, turning to the waiting blonde. ‘You are to work on Sophie. It is my wish,’ he added quietly, ‘that Sophie should come first. I intend that she should lose, and then you too would be content because she would be taken to the punishment chair.’
Nicola nodded. Briefly the baron whispered instructions to the two women, and then once they knew exactly how the vaulting horses worked they were each given the maid he’d selected for them.
Cassandra ran her hands down Monique’s sides and around the cheeks of her bottom. She caressed the backs of her knees and the insides of her elbows, knowing full well how sensitive the skin was in these places. Her touch both aroused and disarmed the maid, making her more receptive for what was to come.
Nicola didn’t waste any time on such preliminaries. She signalled for one of the men to come and help her lay Sophie on the surface of the vaulting horse, and Giovanni was only too pleased to oblige. He lifted the sturdy figure easily, then lay her face down on the rubber padding, making sure that she was positioned exactly as Nicola indicated.
For Sophie it was both frightening and stimulating. Her blindness had, as the baron said, increased her other senses and even the touch of the rubber had her flesh tingling.
Quickly and with surprising efficiency, Nicola eased the maid’s breasts through the holes and down into the rubber cups beneath. Once she was correctly in position there it meant that her stomach protruded down through the oval shaped opening in the middle of the surface, while the final hole provided easy access to her over-stimulated vulva.
Feeling her body fit so snugly into place, Sophie wondered what was to follow, and then suddenly the three sets of strapping were pulled over her back pressing her down hard against the surface of the vaulting horse with the result that her breasts brushed against the inner surfaces of the rubber cups, her stomach was forced even further through the middle opening and her hips were pressed tightly against the rubber cushion so that her entire vulva protruded through the third gap.
Tightening the straps took a little time, and while Nicola was working on that, Cassandra got Monique into place as well. Having had more practice at this type of thing than Nicola it meant that in the end both maids were ready at the same time.
Cassandra decided to ignore the tightly compressed flesh first and instead she used a very soft hairbrush to smooth along the fine dusting of hairs that covered Monique’s spine. the lightly teasing ends of the brush made Monique murmur in appreciation and she pressed herelf down against the rubber, only realising too late that this increased the stimulation of all her more erogenous zones.
Nicola, determined to make Sophie come first, didn’t bother with caresses. Instead she pressed the button the baron had shown her and at once the rubber cups enclosing the maid’s heavy breasts began to pulsate, squeezing and releasing the engorged breast tissue in a steady rhythm that soon had her whimpering with excitement.
Recalling the terrible time when she herself had lost all control of her body, Nicola now decided to press her hand upwards against the trapped maid’s lower stomach and the sharp hiss of indrawn breath told her what she wanted to know. The straps were pressing Sophie’s full bladder down against the hard top of the vaulting horse, and this kind of manipulation by her tormentor would rush her towards another orgasm.
‘Does that feel good?’ Nicola asked in her soft, polite voice. ‘Do you like it when I touch you there?’ She pressed hard again.
‘Non! Non!’ moaned Sophie. ‘It is not good. I do not wish to come. I do not want the punishment chair.’
‘Well, I want you to have it,’ whispered Nicola. ‘And I’m going to make sure that you do.’ She kept one hand working steadily against Sophie’s lower belly while her other picked up a pencil slim vibrator from the bench beside her and she let this play between the outer sex lips, hanging so tantalisingly down through the final hole.
Despite herself, Sophie felt her outer labia opening and immediately the vibrator was teasing her vaginal opening before slipping upwards along the slick channel, until suddenly it paused beneath the clitoris. The tormenting hand kneaded at the full, swollen lower stomach, the breasts were palpated by the suction cups and then with one swift movement the vibrator skimmed just beneath the maid’s urethral opening.
It was the final straw. Despite her exhaustion and determination to succeed, Sophie could not prevent the incredible jolts of voluptuous pleasure from shooting along her nerve paths, upwards to her stomach and breasts and downwards so that the electric currents seemed to be travelling from her front opening to her tight back passage. Almost immediately she felt her feet drumming helplessly against the end of the vaulting h
orse as her body seemed to shatter into tiny pieces with the force of the contractions that racked her over-sensitised body. She heard herself crying aloud with the force of the sensations, even though she knew that she had lost.
Beside her Monique gave a tiny sigh of relief. It was over and she was the winner. Cassandra released her and helped her off the vaulting horse, her own face pale. She had failed in her task while Nicola had succeeded.
As the exhausted Sophie was led away upstairs, the baron’s eyes met Cassandra’s and he shrugged. ‘Perhaps you lack a little something necessary for this game, my dear?’ he suggested silkily, and then he put an arm round Nicola and led her from the room.
Cassandra knew then that Nicola would be the recipient of his lovemaking for the next hour or so, and when Giovanni came up to her and took her hand she went with him because at least with him her body, if not her mind, would find what it needed.
Chapter Thirteen
When Cassandra awoke the next morning she found herself enfolded in Giovanni’s arms with her head resting against his chest. She tried to remember what had happened the previous evening, and slowly it came back to her.
After Sophie had been taken to the punishment chair, the baron had gone back to Nicola’s room with her and there, beneath the mirrored ceiling and with Sophie’s cries occasionally filtering through to them from the room above, he and the young English girl had lost themselves in a mad frenzy of wild sensuality that had been recorded by the cameras for Cassandra to watch if she wanted.
At first she’d resisted the temptation, knowing how deeply it would upset her. Instead she’d welcomed Giovanni’s increasingly assured touch as he brought her time and again to the height of ecstasy, but when he had left her to change for dinner she’d given in to temptation and watched the recording.
It had hurt her even more than she’d anticipated. Nicola was so clearly besotted by the baron. She’d allowed him to do anything he liked with her body, nothing was resisted, and when he’d brought Rupert in to share her so that she was filled both in front and behind as the two men rode her without restraint she’d thrown back her head with ecstasy, and whenever her eyes met the baron’s they were soft and touched by love.
The evening meal had been taken in a somewhat strained atmosphere. The baron, guessing that Cassandra knew exactly what he and Nicola had been doing, took every opportunity to touch and caress the English girl, at one stage even licking a drop of spilt wine from the inside of her bare wrist. Cassandra’s stomach had lurched with fear. It was such a tender gesture, but then she’d seen the expression on his face and there was no tenderness there, merely amusement.
After that she didn’t know whether he was becoming seriously involved with Nicola or not, all that she knew was that she was being excluded. It was a terrible feeling.
When the meal had finished, the baron, Rupert, Françoise and Nicola had decided to take a boat out and cross the lake in order to walk around the cornfield that Cassandra had once visited with Nicola only a few days previously. This was something she did not intend to do again and pleading exhaustion she’d gone to her room, where Giovanni had quickly joined her.
He’d made her feel cherished again. His hands had been less tentative, more confident in their ability to please her and his stamina was endless. When they’d finally fallen asleep she’d let him stay because there was no good reason for sending him away. She knew the baron wouldn’t be joining her and she needed company to keep her desolation at bay.
Now, in the pale light of dawn, she wondered what the future held for her. Could it be possible that she would have to leave the only man she’d ever loved, she thought to herself. If so, there seemed little point to life because everything she was, everything she did, had come about as a result of being with him. She couldn’t imagine anyone else in the world who would suit her as he did, or arouse in her any emotion deeper than affection.
Giovanni muttered something in his sleep and turned over. For a moment she considered a future with him. He’d take her back to Italy with him gladly, he’d already told her that, but he was younger than she was and a world apart from the man she loved so much. Briefly she wished that it was possible to choose the person with whom you fell in love more carefully, but she knew it was a pointless wish. Sexual attraction was impossible to control or to seek out: it was either there or it wasn’t.
As she wondered whether or not to dress and take an early stroll in the grounds while everyone else slept, the door opened and the baron entered quietly. His eyes flicked to the sleeping Italian and for a moment a look of irritation crossed his face before he managed to mask it with his more usual half-smile. His hair was flopping over his right eye and he pushed it back impatiently.
‘Get dressed, Cassandra,’ he said quietly. ‘I imagine I will need your assistance in getting Nicola to her place of punishment before the others are up.’
Without a word, Cassandra slid naked from the bed and pulled on a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a cropped white cotton top. She looked incredibly young and so appealing that the baron had to fight down a desire to take her there and then, while Giovanni slept on. He wished that he could tell her how much he wanted her to win the game, but it was out of the question.
Together they went to Nicola’s room where the baron bent down and blew softly in the girl’s ear. She sat upright immediately, her arms stretched out to embrace him, but he stepped back from the bed, his face a cold mask.
‘It is time for your punishment, Nicola,’ he said flatly. ‘Put on a robe and come with us.’
Stunned by the change in him after their night of lovemaking only a few hours earlier, Nicola felt tears welling in her eyes. ‘What are you going to do to me?’ she whimpered.
‘I thought you liked punishments; you certainly enjoyed Sophie’s cries during the night. I could tell it added an extra dimension to your abandonment. You must be able to take it as well you know. Quickly now, come with us.’
‘I’m not coming with her,’ retorted Nicola, pointing at Cassandra.
The baron’s eyes went dark. ‘You will do as I say. Cassandra, bind her hands behind her back with this rope.’
Cassandra picked up the piece of rope he threw at her and wound it around Nicola’s hands as the baron held them tightly behind her. Then, with only a robe flung across her shoulders, Nicola found herself being hustled down the stairs and out into the cobbled courtyard. She stared about her in apprehension. ‘What are you going to do to me?’
‘Nothing at the moment; I simply want you in place when the household stirs. Climb up onto the wall of the well.’
All the blood drained from Nicola’s face and she looked beseechingly at the man she’d already convinced herself was in love with her, but he stared back, his eyes cold until she obeyed. Then he got up on the wall next to her, removed her robe and bent her back along one of the inward curving iron struts that covered the top of the well before fastening her there with a leather collar around her neck and a tight studded leather belt about her waist.
Her whole body was arched into a bow, her breasts pointing upwards and her stomach even more stretched than the maids’ had been the previous afternoon. Her feet were then parted and slipped through metal hoops that she had failed to notice earlier. Once the hoops were adjusted she couldn’t move at all since her hands were still bound and the leather straps were too tight to allow any leeway.
The baron jumped down onto the cobblestones and admired her slim, fair body revealed so totally in the clear early morning air. ‘Splendid!’ he announced, kissing Cassandra just below her left ear. ‘Doesn’t she look enchanting, liebling? Do not worry, Nicola, you won’t be alone for long. Once people learn that you’re here I’m sure you’ll have a constant flow of visitors, and they will all wish to keep you comfortable, or at least sexually satiated. You do enjoy having orgasms in public places, do you not?’
‘No!’ cried Nicola. ‘I don’t, really I don’t. It just happened yesterday because of the love bal
ls and the car. Please, don’t leave me here.’
‘I shall soon be back, little one. Cassandra, tell who-ever comes out here first to bring the suntan lotion and use it on Nicola. She’s so fair skinned we must take care she doesn’t burn.’
‘Or get overheated,’ murmured Cassandra. ‘I’ll have the hose connected up in case the sun becomes too strong.’ The baron smiled at her. It was a good idea.
Left alone, Nicola had never felt so isolated in the whole of her life; isolated and incredibly vulnerable. She was tied so tightly to the iron bar that no matter who approached her or what they chose to do to her, there was nothing she could do to protect herself. At the moment it was agreeably warm, but soon, as she knew very well, the sun would become stronger and if she was left there for many hours she would become uncomfortably hot.
Then, as her spirits dropped and she started to consider the possibility that the baron had only been playing with her all along and had no intention of replacing Cassandra and letting her stay with him, she remembered their lovemaking from the previous night.
She had never been as uninhibited. When Rupert had joined them there had been an expression of pride in the baron’s eyes as she willingly accepted his friend’s attentions to her body as well as the baron’s.
She decided that although this was called a punishment it was probably another test, and one that she had sensed would prove extremely difficult for her. Nevertheless, she was determined to pass it. A public display of her nakedness, combined with what she knew would be public physical arousal and possibly even possession by the men, must be almost as much as could ever be demanded of her. If she could do this and remain controlled, or even better manage to take pleasure from it, then it seemed likely that there could be few obstacles left for her to overcome. Suddenly she began to feel less frightened, convinced now that she would triumph.
After what seemed an eternity, but was probably no more than twenty minutes, Sophie – only recently released from the punishment chair where she had been forced to endure everything that Françoise could devise – came past with a broom in her hand. She glanced up at the fastened Nicola but then hurried on by. She’d seen other women tied up like this and knew that it did not concern the staff. This was something that the baron kept exclusively for his friends. Remembering how Nicola had been determined to make her lose in the gym, Sophie was pleased that she was now being punished.
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