As the driver fled, Amanda unbuckled Stephanie's seatbelt and pulled her to her feet using her considerable strength. Her eyes looked at Stephanie with positive hatred and Stephanie knew why. Amanda had been wilful at the castle and had had to be punished several times. She had taken her punishment badly, never accepting that it was a condition of her service. She could always have chosen to return to England and face the consequences of prosecution. But clearly she didn't see it that way, as she led Stephanie to the door, her hand biting into Stephanie's upper arm.
'Tell her again,' Andrew said as they were about to leave the plane.
Susie stood looking bewildered.
'Do nothing Susie, you understand?' As though by telepathy she tried to tell her with her eyes to make every effort, however hopeless it might be, to try and contact Devlin.
'So good,' Andrew said, patting her bottom and leading her down the steps of the plane.
Stephanie's high heels clattered on the metal ramp. Whether the pilot was watching the strange sight of her being led to the car wearing only French knickers, stockings and boots, she could not see. She was pushed unceremoniously onto the back seat. Venetia got in beside her with Paul while Amanda and Andrew sat in the front. They didn't bother with the luggage. Amanda had decided there would be plenty of clothes for her to play with at the castle.
The noise of the jet engines rose immediately they were in the car, and it moved forward to the end of the runway, the pilot clearly taking his instructions literally. As the car pulled away the engines roared, the plane quivered for a moment, held by its brakes, and then, the brakes released, shot forward in a haze of noise and exhaust heat. In a minute it was soaring into the sky, banking away to the left and with it another slim hope that perhaps the pilot would have been able to do something to rescue Stephanie from her predicament.
It was a five minute drive to the jetty where the speedboat would be waiting, sent out from the castle the moment the plane was heard overhead.
'If he sees her like this, the boatman may take off,' Amanda said, looking at Stephanie's naked breasts.
'Right. Cover her up,' Andrew ordered, looking at Venetia.
'What can I use?' Venetia said.
'Put this over her shoulders.' Amanda had brought a sweater from Stephanie's luggage which she'd tied around her waist. She pulled it off and handed it to Venetia, who fitted it over Stephanie's long hair and down over her breasts.
'He won't see her legs, that'll do.' They had come to a fork in the road. Andrew applied the brakes. 'Which way?'
'Left,' Stephanie said. There was no point in lying. They could drive all the way around the lake and find the jetty in the end.
A few minutes later the Mercedes drew up alongside the wooden jetty where the gleaming, spotlessly polished speedboat was moored, the boatman catnapping on the transom. He woke with a start as the car came to a halt.
'Call him over,' Andrew ordered.
The boatman was an old man. He had been plying the lake for thirty years in one boat or another. He saw Stephanie beckoning him to come to the car and obeyed immediately. As he got off the boat Mick got out of the car, smiling at him broadly.
'Nice boat,' Mick said.
'Si, si...' he replied.
There was no problem now. He was off the boat and Mick was between him and it. There was no way he could wrest Mick out of the way and untie the boat. It was all so simple. Mick jumped aboard and the old man stared helplessly as he watched Stephanie being pulled roughly from the car.
'Don't...' Stephanie said when it looked as though the boatman was going to take a swing at Andrew. 'Just go home.'
They all piled into the boat, leaving the old man on the shore. Mick worked the controls and soon had the boat heading out into the lake, however inexpertly. Across the vast expanse of water Stephanie could see the turrets of the castle on the island, like a setting for a fairytale, as a flock of grebes took fright at the noise of the engines.
As usual, two white-jacketed servants waited by the jetty, ready to take the luggage ashore. They looked puzzled as the boat approached. They were expecting only Stephanie and Venetia. Andrew started to laugh. As he suspected, there was no defence plan for the castle. The servants wouldn't run in and bolt the doors at the first sign of trouble. They would do nothing. The castle was open. The castle was theirs.
Docking the boat proved a difficult exercise with Mick's inexperience. Eventually Andrew threw one of the servants a line and they hauled the boat in alongside the rubber tyres that hung from the jetty. As soon as the forward and aft lines were secured they all stepped ashore. The servants looked at Stephanie with amazement - the sweater back around Amanda's waist, Stephanie's breasts bare, her nipples hardened by the cool of the air on the water - but said and did nothing. They had seen many strange sights at the castle and their mistress cuffed and semi-naked was not the strangest. They were paid well over the going rate for their discretion and did not intend to let this new development faze them. This was probably just some elaborate new game, a test of some sort the mistress had devised. Seeing there were no cases to carry, they stood passively as the little party walked in single file up the worn stone steps, under the arch of foliage and into the castle.
Stephanie had contemplated screaming for help but what could they have done? Even if all six servants had come out at the same time it would be unlikely that they could overpower the three men and Amanda. Certainly these two would have been thrown in the lake with no trouble. It was hopeless.
In the main hall, in front of the tapestry that hung from the largest wall and the sweeping marble staircase, they all stopped. The servants disappeared. Andrew looked around like a man surveying his new property.
'Some place,' Paul said.
'Oh, you haven't seen nothing yet. Amanda, why don't you take Paul and Mick down to the cellars? You know what to do. I'm sure Bruno won't be much trouble. I'm going upstairs to enjoy myself.'
'Oh, Bruno's no problem,' Amanda said.
It was probably true, Stephanie thought with increasing depression. Bruno, the keeper of the keys in the cellars, was no match for Paul and Mick, especially as they had the element of surprise.
'I'll be down in an hour or so,' Andrew said.
'Take your time,' Mick said.
'Yeah, if everything you've told us is true we'll be in no rush to enjoy the facilities.'
Amanda led them to the little door behind the tapestry.
'Shall I go to the office and get started on the files?' Venetia asked.
'Oh, I don't think so. Not yet. I think I'd prefer it if you came with me.'
'You can trust me, I told you...'
'Oh, I'm sure I can. But let's just say I'd prefer you to come with me for the time being. I wouldn't want you being tempted to make a little secret telephone call to Devlin or anybody else. Once I've disconnected all the phones you can roam around to your heart's content.'
'You think I'd do that?'
'Let's just go upstairs together. Then we can all relax.'
'Fine with me.'
'Take me to your room,' Andrew ordered, taking Stephanie's arm. He had only ever been to Stephanie's room the back way, through the stairs that led directly from the cellars, the metal pouch chained around his genitals, dreading what lay ahead of him.
As Stephanie mounted the marble ahead of him, the little crescents of her buttocks visible under the legs of the French knickers, the tight suspenders pulling at the stockings, their welts somehow making the creamy flesh above them seem softer and more exposed, her thick pubic hair escaping the loose crotch as her thighs moved, it was definitely not dread Andrew felt now. It was an entirely different emotion.
Chapter Six
He sat on the double bed, his back propped up against the wall, and looked at the two women. Outside, through the terrace windows, he could see the lake spread out from the castle, its calm waters reflecting the scudding clouds that were now dominating the sky, big white clouds gathering from the west and
darkening by the minute. But the weather did not concern him.
It was the moment Andrew Harlock had waited for, planned and calculated for, since his term at the castle had begun four months ago. Every day, every night, every minute of every hour, in the cellars or out in the gardens, being punished for his disobedience, or meekly obeying the orders he was given, he had thought of a way to get his revenge. He was that sort of man. He wasn't going to let the haughty, stuck-up, black-haired bitch get away with treating him like a piece of dirt. It was as simple as that. She was going to have to be made to pay for the humiliation she'd inflicted on him.
And his plan had worked perfectly, like clockwork. What Devlin and Stephanie did was outside the law. That was his trump card and he knew it. Devlin wouldn't call the police because the police would be followed by the press and that Devlin definitely didn't want.
It had been easy to recruit two friends to come along for the ride. He'd promised them, with no exaggeration, sexual favours beyond their wildest dreams. Recruiting Amanda had been more difficult. She had served longer at the castle than he had but he knew she would relish the chance for revenge. Of all the slaves, she had always shown most spirit, and had been punished as regularly as he had. But he had no way of knowing when she would be released or how to contact her. One day in the gardens he had found himself working next to her. With a hoe he had scratched the word REVENGE in the soil at her feet. Quickly, before the overseers came past, she had scored a telephone number in the dirt. Every day after he had been sent back to England he had rung the number and after four weeks of trying she had finally answered. When he'd told her his plans she had jumped at the opportunity to return to the castle in more luxurious fashion.
And the rest had been easy. Easier than even he had imagined. He could not help grinning as he looked round the beautifully appointed bedroom with its silk-panelled walls and thick wool carpets, every item of furniture chosen with perfect taste, no expense spared. He was, he thought, the master of all he surveyed. Including the two women.
The room darkened as the sun disappeared finally behind a bank of cloud and rain began to drizzle on the terracotta paving outside.
'Come here,' he ordered, pointing at Stephanie. She obeyed, standing by the side of the bed. 'Very obedient,' he mocked. He ran his hand along her thigh, up over the welt of the beige stockings, onto the soft flesh of her thigh. Stephanie did not move. She saw his eyes looking hard at her body, at the way the knickers creased at the triangle of her belly, at the way her firm breasts jutted sharply from her chest. She knew what he was thinking; she had experienced the same reaction herself faced with an obedient slave: so many possibilities.
'You,' he said to Venetia, 'open a bottle of champagne.' He knew there was always champagne in the bedroom fridge recessed behind one of the silk panels. He'd seen it on more than one of his previous visits. Stephanie had sipped champagne while he'd been massaging her naked body, his cock straining against the confinement of the pouch. His anger rose again at the thought.
As Venetia went to the fridge Andrew swung himself off the bed. He started prowling around the room. At the far end where all the wardrobes and chests of drawers were kept, he started investigating their contents. He found Stephanie's lingerie and rifled through it. He found the drawers of equipment - straps and chains and leather harnesses, dildos and gags and silk or leather blindfolds - that Stephanie used on Devlin or the slaves.
'Well, what have we got here?' he said as he opened a specially constructed drawer within one of the wardrobes, a long drawer containing a selection of whips. He couldn't suppress a shudder as his body remembered what had been inflicted on him. He picked out a short riding crop and swished it experimentally through the air. He came back to the bed and used the leather loop on the end of the crop to caress Stephanie's cheek. 'Lie on the bed, mistress,' he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 'On your stomach.'
For a moment Stephanie hesitated.
'Do it,' Andrew barked angrily.
Awkwardly, with no hands for support, Stephanie obeyed. She could feel Andrew's eyes on her arse. He followed them with the loop of the whip, tracing it along her thighs, over the welts of the stockings, up the suspenders, pushing it under the lace-edged leg of the knickers to reveal more of her buttocks. Stephanie expected to feel the cut of the whip at any moment.
Venetia had opened the champagne and handed Andrew a glass.
'Cheers,' she said, raising the glass she had poured for herself.
'Cheers, darling,' he said, swigging back the champagne and choking on the bubbles. He eyed Venetia's long legs in the tight trousers of the one-piece suit. 'I suppose I can't change your mind?'
Venetia did not need to ask what he meant. She could see it in his eyes. 'I told you I'd do anything but that.'
'What a waste.'
'What are you going to do to her?' Venetia asked.
He laughed, loudly and long. 'Everything. Everything she did to me and a great deal more.'
'I mean now.'
'Now. Now a little appetizer, I think. Lock the bedroom door and bring me the key. Get me one of those chains from the drawer, a small one.'
Venetia did both things at once. Andrew unbuttoned his shirt, slipped the door key onto the chain and hung it around his neck. Then he took the key of the handcuffs out of his pocket and unlocked them. Stephanie's wrists fell to her side.
'Take her boots and knickers off. Leave the stockings on. I like stockings.'
Venetia knelt on the bed and rolled Stephanie onto her back. She unzipped the boots and pulled them from Stephanie's calves, dropping them on the floor. Stephanie stared into her eyes, trying to see what was going on in her mind. She had treated Venetia badly occasionally but Venetia had always been special. They had always had a special relationship. Surely she hadn't forgotten that? But Venetia steadfastly refused to meet her gaze and her eyes were blank. Stephanie could see nothing there at all, no clue as to what she was thinking.
Taking the waistband of the French knickers in her hands, Venetia pulled them down Stephanie's hips, not waiting for her to raise her bottom off the bed.
'Oh yes, I remember that,' Andrew said, standing at the foot of the bed and looking up Stephanie's long stockinged legs. 'You come here,' he said to Venetia, who got up off the bed immediately. 'Put your hand out,' he added.
Venetia held one hand up in front of Andrew who picked up the discarded handcuffs and snapped one cuff over her wrist. He pulled her over to the large radiator on the wall alongside the bed and clipped the other cuff around the pipe that led into it at skirting-board level.
'I thought I was on your side,' Venetia said, crouching on the floor.
'You are. It's just I don't want you getting any funny ideas while I'm otherwise engaged. I only like to have to think about one thing at a time.'
'I told you I'm a slave too.'
'I know what you said. Don't worry; you'll get plenty of chances to prove yourself...' Andrew picked up her glass of champagne and handed it to her with a broad smile. Then he walked back to the bed. 'Now...' he said, looking down at Stephanie, 'I can't tell you how much I've looked forward to this.'
Stephanie looked into his eyes. She could see his excitement. Quite calmly he stripped off his shoes and socks and pulled his trousers and pants down his legs. His cock was circumcised and semi-erect, surrounded by pubic hair as blond and curly as that on his head.
He knelt on the bed beside her and for a long moment did nothing but look at her magnificent body. He had seen it many times, naked and clothed, clad in lacy silk underwear, black satin basques, tight clinging Lycra, or hard leather corselettes. But always before he'd hardly dared to look for fear it would cause an erection to swell against the confines of the immovable metal pouch. This time his cock was free and it responded by coming to full erection, throbbing and hard, as his eyes roamed over her body.
'What do you want me to do?' Stephanie asked. There was no point in making things worse by not cooperating.
/> Andrew did not answer. Instead he swung his thigh across her chest so he was kneeling over her breasts, his rampant cock inches from her mouth. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her onto him, as he'd dreamt of doing so many times since he'd left the castle.
Stephanie sucked his cock as best she could. She would have liked to have moved her head but his grip was too tight. She concentrated on tonguing the ridge under the glans, wanting to make him come as quickly as she could. Then it would be over, at least for the time being.
His grip slackened as the feelings in his cock intensified. He reached behind his back with one hand to feel for her cunt. With little finesse he found her labia and pushed two fingers inside. Her cunt was hot and wet. He pushed his fingers as deep as they would go and heard her moan against his cock.
Stephanie lunged her head forward. His cock filled her mouth. She could feel it beginning to swell with spunk. She worked faster, trying to make her mouth like her cunt, wet and tight, trying to suck out his spunk.
'Not so fast...' he said, pulling his cock out from between her lips. 'I know what you're trying to do.'
But she had largely succeeded. Andrew's excitement was intense. He knew he couldn't last long now. Quickly he swung off her and rolled her onto her stomach. In his mind he had imagined doing this so many times, he had wanked endlessly since he left the castle, thinking of this body and how it had tormented him, how he had endured the never-ending frustration. And now it was his. He knelt between her legs and pulled her hips up to meet him. He wanted to bugger her, to fuck her and bugger her, alternate between the two passages of her body, but now he knew he would only just manage to get his cock into that hot cunt, as its thick fleshy labia nudged at his balls.
He had dreamt of this moment. He pressed forward and felt his cock slide up the whole length of her tight wet cunt, right up until he could feel his balls resting against her arse. He thought he was going to come then, just on that one stroke, but he managed to control himself. He pulled back and lunged again, and that was it. His body took control, his cock began to spasm and he took his last glimpse of Stephanie's long back bisected by the suspender belt, and the tight suspenders stretching the welts of the stockings on her thighs, before his eyes rolled up and his spunk jetted into her body. He thought he felt her cunt contracting round his cock as though trying to milk every last drop of spunk from him, and as his orgasm finally ended he whimpered, for a reason he did not understand, one word.
Stephanie's Trial Page 12