Stephanie's Trial

by Susanna Hughes

  'Mistress...'

  It was a simple harness, but effective. A thick band of leather around the neck with a similar thick strap down between the shoulder-blades, to which were attached two leather cuffs, one on top of the other. Stephanie's wrists were buckled tightly into these cuffs, her elbows jutting out like chicken wings, her breasts thrust forward. She was completely naked now apart from a pair of black high heels Venetia had levered on to her feet. A chain, like a leash, was clipped to a D-ring in the front of the collar and it was by this that Andrew, wearing a white towelling robe from her bathroom, was leading her down the stone staircase that led directly to the cellars. Venetia, still in the tight black one-piece trouser-suit, brought up the rear.

  As Andrew opened the thick wooden door at the bottom of the stairs they were greeted by a scene that looked like the orgies of ancient Rome. There were copulating couples everywhere. Mattresses had been dragged out of the individual cells on one side of the wide vaulted hallway and men and women ranged over them in a variety of positions. The slaves had all been freed and the males had quickly found the keys to the padlocks that held the metal pouches chained over their genitals. Without restriction for the first time in weeks, they were clearly giving vent to their frustrations. The female slaves showed no signs of being unwilling to help.

  Stephanie glimpsed Paul lying on the floor while two women sucked and licked at his balls. Mick, on the other hand, was lying on his back on a mattress with one of the larger women slaves impaled on his cock. She, in turn, was sucking the cock of a male slave and wanking on the cock of another. A similar chain of bodies was formed at the far end of the corridor. A male had his head buried between the legs of one of the women who was sucking on the cock of a man who, in turn, was eagerly eating the labia of a second female whose mouth was clamped firmly over the cock of the first man. A complete circle of sex. In one corner Stephanie recognised Molly, the petite blonde with the large fleshy tits, who was busily engaged doing precisely what she had done to Stephanie while the Baron watched, but this time with another slave.

  The wine cellars, just outside the slaves' quarters, had been liberally raided too. There were bottles of wine and fine brandy everywhere.

  Only Amanda was missing. Stephanie could guess where she was. As if reading her mind, Andrew picked his way through the naked bodies, none of whom paid any attention, and led the way into the suite of rooms designed for the castle guests to entertain or be entertained by the slaves. Here there were two luxuriously appointed bedrooms with their own bathrooms and video equipment, together with another room; the punishment room, a large chamber formed from the original stone of the castle walls, with a flag-stoned floor. Here every conceivable sexual whim could be satisfied, from bondage to rubber, leather, transvestism and the wishes of sadists and masochists. Chains, punishment frames, pulleys and racks filled the room and it was here, as Stephanie had suspected, they found Amanda.

  She was naked but for a pair of skimpy black briefs and high heels. Her big muscular body was sweating and Stephanie could see why. Secured by his hands and feet with thick leather straps and lying face-down on one of the punishment frames was Bruno. It was Bruno who had administered most of the punishments awarded to the slaves and Stephanie guessed he would be the prime target for Amanda's revenge. The long whip she held in her hand and the welts that crisscrossed his heavy buttocks told their story.

  She slashed the whip down on Bruno's buttocks again and he bucked against his bonds. Though he was mute he managed to produce a moan of pain. Amanda threw the whip aside.

  'Having fun?' Andrew asked.

  'Oh yes, I feel much better now I've given this bastard a taste of his own medicine.'

  'I thought you might like to start on this,' Andrew said, pulling Stephanie forward by the leash.

  'Not yet.' Amanda's eyes were blazing with excitement. She sidled up to Andrew and pulled the robe open, circling his cock with her hand. 'Why don't you come next door with me? I've got myself all worked up now, Andy. Wouldn't you like to take advantage of me?' She kissed him hard on the mouth and rubbed her breasts against his chest so he could feel the hardness of her nipples, at the same time pulling at his cock not at all gently. It began to get hard.

  'Come on then. Since everyone else seems to be having such a good time.'

  'Bring her too,' Amanda said, looking at the naked Stephanie. 'She can watch.'

  'And me?' Venetia said.

  In the corridor outside the punishment room, Andrew saw that the outer door could be locked by a big old-fashioned mortise. He turned the key in the lock, then removed it.

  'Now you can do what you like,' he told Venetia as Amanda led Stephanie into one of the bedrooms.

  So far the suite of rooms hadn't been touched by the chaos outside. Amanda slumped onto the big bed, her near-naked body glistening under the light. Skimming off her panties, she opened her legs wide and began to wank at her clitoris. Then she dipped a finger into her cunt, withdrew it, then sucked it into her mouth. She moaned at the taste like it was some great delicacy.

  'Never knew revenge could taste so sweet,' she said. Andrew took Stephanie's leash again and led her to the foot of the bed. The bed had short corner-posts projecting about a foot above the mattress, into each of which was set a solid brass ring. Andrew pushed Stephanie into a kneeling position facing the bed, and threaded the chain leash through the ring, tying it so tightly Stephanie's cheek was forced against the wooden post and she was unable to turn her head.

  'Come on big boy, come and fuck me,' Amanda said.

  But Andrew was looking around the room.

  'What do you want?'

  He saw what he was looking for. In a stand by the chest of drawers was a selection of three or four riding crops. He picked one up and tested it by swishing it through the air as he had done upstairs.

  'You're not using that on me,' Amanda said at once.

  'That's not what I had in mind,' Andrew said.

  'On her is fine with me, as long as you hurry up and fuck me. Can't you see how much I need it?'

  Andrew knelt on the bed, stripping off the robe and wanking his cock in his hand. As soon as it was completely hard he slid down onto the naked Amanda.

  'Oh yes,' she moaned, feeling the tip of his shaft between her labia. Her body shuddered and she felt a great gush of her own juices flowing out of her sex. 'Give it to me,' she begged.

  Andrew moved his hips up and back and his cock slipped into the opening of her cunt. He held it there, savouring the moment, feeling his glans almost sprayed with her copious juices, she was so wet.

  'Give it to me Andy, I'm so hot.' Amanda squirmed her body underneath him.

  'Is this what you want?' he said, bucking his hips forward, sinking his cock deep into the recesses of her body.

  'Oh God...' she moaned. 'God, God, God...' she screamed with every inward stroke he made. 'God, God, God...' like air being forced out by a hammer-blow to the solar plexus.

  As she started to come she looked down at Stephanie, helpless and naked at the foot of the bed. The image of her excited Amanda more. They had the power now, power to do anything. She felt her body trembling. Her sweat made the movement of their bodies slippery, slipping against each other, just as Andrew's cock was slippery inside her. As he plunged down into her she felt her nerves and muscles lock and her orgasm broke, smashing down on the head of his cock, so hard and so deep inside her.

  He did not stop his rhythm. He had a different agenda. He knew what he wanted. He had felt it upstairs with Stephanie. As he fucked her he'd yearned for the feeling. As soon as Amanda had recovered he slipped the whip into her hand.

  'Beat me now,' he whispered. 'Beat my arse while I'm fucking you.'

  'You want that?'

  'I need it,' he said. In truth he would have liked Stephanie to whip him as she had in the past. In truth, he realised now, he had wanked himself over and over again not only on the idea of fucking his beautiful mistress but he had made himself hard and thro
bbing and spunking on the feelings he'd had from being whipped and from the hot red welts on his arse where the whip had left its mark. He needed that too.

  'I'll do that.' The voice was calm and cool. Andrew looked over his shoulder. Venetia had changed into a black leather catsuit, its V-neck plunging to reveal the cleavage of her big round breasts, its leggings so tight they seemed to follow the crease of her sex itself. She took the whip from Amanda's hand and in one seemingly continuous movement raised it over her head and slashed it down on Andrew's buttocks before he could raise any objection.

  A line of fire blazed across his white buttocks, making him plunge his cock into Amanda's sex and filling him instantly with the pulsing energy of a pain that turned quickly to breathtaking pleasure.

  'Oh yes...' he groaned. He felt the red welt the whip had caused puckering his arse, burning hot.

  Another stroke fell, and another. He wanted to look back at the amazon who was beating him so beautifully but couldn't concentrate on anything but the sensations boiling in his blood. His cock was on fire, driven forward harder and deeper by each stroke. This was what it was going to be like now. His every whim catered for in an instant. He could feel Stephanie's eyes on him, knew she could see the red welts appear on his buttocks, see his cock plunging into Amanda's sex and his balls banging against her arse, and that was all part of it, all part of the explosion that overtook him, his cock recoiling against the cavern of Amanda's soaking wet cunt to spit out hot white spunk for the second time that day.

  It seemed a long time before his cock softened and was expelled from Amanda's sex, as though in slow motion. They both moaned involuntarily as the contact was lost. Andrew rolled over and looked up at Venetia.

  'Well, maybe we can trust her.'

  'Don't be so sure,' Amanda said more cynically. 'She's staying in the cells tonight. I won't sleep with her on the loose.'

  'No, it's all right, she can spend the night with me. I'll handcuff her to the radiator.'

  'As long as she's secure. Don't take any chances until Devlin turns up tomorrow.'

  That remark startled Stephanie. How did they know Devlin was due tomorrow? She hadn't mentioned it and neither had Venetia.

  Andy was untying the leash from the bedpost.

  'Time for bed then, we've got a busy day tomorrow.'

  He pulled Stephanie to her feet and out into the hall. He unlocked the outer door with the key and they were back in the main cellar. Some of the orgy had come to an end but other elements, Paul in particular, were still far from finished. He lay on one of the mattresses with his legs wide open and three girls taking it in turn to suck his cock. One had her finger inserted in his anus, the second held his balls in the palm of her hand, jiggling them up and down, while the third used her fingernails to pinch his nipples with one hand, using the other to hold the shaft of his cock and share it out between their three hungry mouths. Saliva dripped from their chins. As Stephanie watched, Paul's body tensed, he stretched out to his full length like someone waking from a deep sleep, and spunk oozed rather than jetted from his cock. Meticulously the three women shared it out between them, passing it from mouth to mouth, so they all had a taste.

  The main cellar door was open as well as the smaller door to the back staircase, and many of the freed slaves had disappeared, no doubt to play and sleep in the comfort of the rooms upstairs. Stephanie could imagine the havoc they would cause. The cellars themselves were already littered with debris.

  Andrew pulled Stephanie into one of the individual cells. Though the cellars of the castle were very old they had been rebuilt from stone quarried on the island to meet Devlin's particular requirements: twelve cells no more than eight feet by four, constructed under the vaulted ceiling. Each cell had a heavy wooden door with an observation port, a single overhead light and an iron ring set into the flagstone floor, to which a chain was attached by a metal link. At the end of the chain was a metal cuff.

  Andrew had chosen the cell for Stephanie deliberately. It was the one he had been forced to use. Normally each cell had a mattress but the one for this cell had been dragged outside by the revellers.

  'Sleep well,' Andrew said, snapping the metal cuff around Stephanie's ankle just as it had been secured every night around his.

  'Don't leave me without...' Stephanie said, then stopped herself. She was about to beg him not to leave her like this, her arms tied into the small of her back, with nothing to sleep on, but she knew it was useless to plead with him. She had been hoisted on her own petard and she had just better get used to the idea.

  The cell door slammed shut and the overhead light went out. Apart from the light that leaked under the door, the cell was completely black. Tentatively Stephanie sat on the floor. The chain leash from the collar hung down between her breasts, swinging against her nipples as she completed the difficult manoeuvre. She rested her arms against the wall which, with her wrists strapped up in the harness as they were, was not at all comfortable. She shifted around so that she rested her upper arm only against the stone but this was not much of an improvement in terms of comfort. It was going to be a long night.

  Laughter and voices came from the corridor outside but finally died away and the cellars were quiet. The walls were too thick to hear any noise from the rooms above.

  Stephanie closed her eyes, not because she thought she would sleep but because there was nothing to see. She suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion overcome her. There was no escape. It would be a miracle if Susie had managed to connect Devlin in Moscow. She might have tried the plane he was chartering but how would she know which company he was using? Even if the main office knew, there was no guarantee they could contact the crew, what with the difficulties of communications in Russia and the fact that they probably didn't know which city Devlin was in. If she did manage it then of course there would be a rescue. Devlin would find a way. But if she did not, when Devlin landed tomorrow, suspecting nothing, it would not be the usual driver who met him but Andrew and Amanda. He would be trapped, subjected like her to whatever wild plans Andrew had devised.

  Stephanie's arms ached and the leather collar cuffed around her neck bit into the underside of her chin whenever she tried to lower her head a little. The strain on her elbows and arms forced into an awkward position by the harness made her want to cry. But that was one thing Andrew would never get the satisfaction of seeing. She found if she arched her head right back she could pull the leather strap between her shoulder-blades down slightly and ease the pressure in her arms but it was only temporary relief as the position soon made her neck ache instead.

  For some time, since sleep was impossible, she allowed herself to wallow in despair. It could be a very long time before Andrew and Amanda and their friends tired of the delights of the castle. Clearly the female slaves were suitably grateful for their freedom. The impact of being released so unexpectedly from the extreme discomfort of the cellars had been immediate. The male slaves, deprived of their ability to have sex at all for so long, had reacted predictably and were still, no doubt, enjoying their new-found freedom in the bedrooms upstairs. Any promises Andrew had made his friends were being fulfilled in spades.

  And in her despair Stephanie thought about Venetia. She remembered, with a chill that ran through her whole body, how badly she had treated her in London, how she had teased her and abused her. Was that why she had joined forces with Andrew so easily? Had she meant what she had said about being used like the other slaves? Stephanie had treated her like a slave in London, it was perfectly true, but she had also treated her like an equal. Well, almost. But was almost enough?

  If Devlin walked into the trap that had been set for him tomorrow, Venetia was the only hope that something could be done to turn the tables on Andrew and Amanda. Perversely, though it was the middle of the night and cold, Stephanie felt a glimmer of hope.

  Chapter Seven

  In the cellars there was no way of telling day from night. Stephanie woke to find herself lying on her stomach on the s
tone floor without the slightest idea how long she had been asleep. She had no feeling in her arms until she sat up, when agonising pins and needles indicated the blood starting to flow again. Her optimism of the small hours had evaporated. She was dirty and cold and every muscle in her body ached. She was also hungry.

  How long it was before the cell door was flung open and Amanda entered, Stephanie had no way of knowing. Her watch - the Patek Phillipe that Devlin had given her - was still on her wrist but her wrist was twisted up into the small of her back.

  Clearly Amanda had been through Stephanie's wardrobes. She was wearing one of her wild silk dresses, belted at the waist. She had used Stephanie's scent liberally too, the rich aroma of Givenchy filling the cell.

  'Get up,' she ordered.

  Stephanie struggled to her feet. As soon as she was up Amanda grabbed the chain leash hanging down between her breasts. She had managed to extract her feet from the high heels during the night and Amanda saw them lying on the floor.

  'Put those on again,' she ordered.

  Stephanie did as she was told. As soon as she had accomplished the task, so simple and yet impossibly hard with no hands to use for balance, Amanda tugged hard on the leash, almost making Stephanie stumble.

  Out in the corridor the debris from last night lay everywhere: discarded clothes, bottles and the black leather-covered pouches littering the mattresses. At the end of the cellar, towards the main door, a block of toilets and showers had been installed. It was here that the slaves were made to scrub each other down every morning and evening after their day in the gardens. As Amanda marched her down to the showers Stephanie noticed that only one of the other cells was still bolted; there, she imagined, was where Bruno was being kept.