But Andrew had his own ideas. Stephanie felt the bed give beside her and she opened her eyes. Andrew was kneeling beside her head. He had stripped off his clothes and was naked, his smooth circumcised cock fully erect in his hand as he wanked it up and down.
'Lick them,' he said, swinging his thigh over Stephanie's face. 'Lick my balls.' He was facing her feet and positioning himself so that his scrotum was literally balanced on her mouth. It was loose and his balls heavy. 'Lick them,' he repeated, his voice hoarse with passion.
Stephanie opened her mouth and tongued his balls. She could feel his hand wanking the shaft of his cock up and down from top to bottom.
'Harder...'
Last night had been full of erotic spectacles. The night had been spent in an orgy of sensual indulgence, so great he could hardly remember who he had fucked or sucked or wanked in what order. There was cunt and tit and arse everywhere but there had not been a greater erotic spectacle than the one in front of him now. Venetia's fair hair bobbed between Stephanie's thighs, her fine long back sheathed in sheer shiny nylon, Stephanie's breasts gripped tightly between her fingers. They were breasts and thighs he knew so well. He had oiled them, stroked them, massaged them not only in reality out on the terrace in the sun or here on this bed, but over and over in his dreams. He looked down at his cock and saw his balls being sucked down into her mouth. He wanked himself harder, increasing the pace of his hand. Both balls were between her lips now and she was flicking them with her tongue, pulling the skin of his cock tighter still, stretching his glans as his fingers passed over it, making it more sensitive, making him come. His cock jerked wildly and spunk sprayed out in a high arc into the air, landing over Stephanie's tits and Venetia's hands on them, and even splashing into Venetia's hair.
The plane circled the lake. The dark clouds of yesterday had not entirely cleared and the sun was continually being shaded by big fast-moving grey cirrus scudding across the sky. The Learjet, an identical model to Devlin's own plane, banked to the left, straightened up and descended smoothly, its airbrakes extended, perfectly lined up on the long concrete runway built especially for the purpose.
Amanda sat in the back of the Mercedes with Stephanie, the big hunting knife unsheathed on her lap. They had dressed her in a blue silk blouse, just enough to make her look normal from the plane. But apart from the blouse she was naked, her hands cuffed behind her back, her ankles bound too by a thick rope in case she had thought to run and warn Devlin. Andrew and Paul sat in the front seats with Andrew at the wheel. Mick was outside, leaning against the bonnet. Devlin would assume his regular driver was sick. He wouldn't imagine anything was wrong with Stephanie sitting in the back.
It was hot in the car despite the fleeting clouds. Whenever the sun was out it beat down on the metal relentlessly and Stephanie could feel sweat running down her back and sides. As the noise of the plane increased overhead her heart beat faster. In minutes she would know if Devlin had come prepared or if, as she suspected, he was going to walk straight into a trap.
The plane landed in a squeal of tyres and the roar of jet engines thrown into reverse thrust. Braking at the far end of the runway the plane turned round and slowly - painfully slowly as far as Stephanie was concerned - taxied back towards the car. She saw Devlin's face at the window. He smiled. That meant nothing, she thought. The plane could be packed with men from his security company...
Amanda moved the knife from her lap to Stephanie's, the blade gleaming in a momentary shaft of sunlight. As the plane had approached, Andrew and Paul had ducked beneath the level of the doors.
'Smile,' Amanda said, twisting the knife slightly. She did not bother to duck. Another woman was no threat. She was just one of the slaves. Perhaps Stephanie had brought her along to amuse Devlin on the boat trip back to the castle: another of Stephanie's inventive little games.
The door of the plane opened and the landing ramp descended. Again its progress seemed impossibly slow. Stephanie had to force herself to breathe. She saw that Devlin's face had disappeared from the window but no one appeared at the open door. It remained empty, a black hole. It was impossible to see anything or anyone inside. Perhaps that was Devlin's plan, Stephanie thought, her pulse racing with hope, to lure them inside one by one and overpower them.
But then Devlin appeared, smiling broadly and carrying his briefcase. A tall, neatly uniformed stewardess appeared too, shaking his hand and, though the words could not be heard over the roar of the engines, obviously wishing him a 'nice day'. He walked down the steps as a steward emerged from the back of the plane with two leather cases.
Stephanie's heart fell. It had only been the slimmest chance that Susie or the pilot would manage to contact him, but it had been a chance. Now there was no hope. Devlin was blithely unaware of what awaited him. Mick took the two cases from the steward, who walked back to the plane.
'Smile,' Amanda repeated, twitching the knife against Stephanie's bare flesh.
If she cried out now, told him to run, he might just make it up the steps of the plane, but it was unlikely. Anyway, with the engines still running it would probably be impossible for him to hear her.
The steward was back in the plane and the landing ramp began retracting. Devlin walked towards the car with Mick behind him carrying the two cases. The plane door closed with a clunk that could be heard over the engine noise and the plane immediately began to roll forward, turning on its nose wheel to head to the take-off point. Now it was too late for anything. As the plane moved away the noise abated a little.
'Darling,' Devlin said as he got to the rear door of the Mercedes. He saw Stephanie's smile disappear at the same time he saw the nakedness of her thighs, the knife in her lap and Andrew and Paul bob up in the front seats.
'Don't do anything silly,' Mick said, dropping the cases and coming up right behind him.
The plane had reached its take-off position. As its engine roared to full throttle the tableau at the car was frozen. Stephanie glimpsed the pilot's face in the cockpit as the plane sped by. He wasn't looking at the car. In a mist of exhaust fumes and heat haze the small jet lifted into the air, the last chance gone.
'What is this?' Devlin said as soon as his voice could be heard.
'Shut up,' Andrew said, getting out of the car. Mick grabbed Devlin's arms and they marched around to the boot.
Two minutes later, Devlin's cases abandoned on the grass by the tarmac, the Mercedes pulled away with Devlin locked in the boot.
'You did well,' Andrew said, looking at Stephanie in the rear-view mirror as he drove.
'You bastard,' she spat.
'Not very nice,' he mocked. 'I think you're going to have to learn politeness.'
The rest was simple. They arrived at the jetty and Devlin was bundled out of the boot, handcuffed with his hands behind his back and marched onto the boat. Stephanie's ankles were freed and she too was put aboard, sitting next to Devlin on the long bench seat in the transom.
They put the Mercedes in the small lean-to that had been built alongside the jetty and locked it up. All four were in a festive mood.
'Mission accomplished,' Andrew said triumphantly as he gunned the engines inexpertly and headed the boat out across the lake.
Chapter Eight
'Bring the defendants into the dock.'
It was dark now and all the lights had been turned on in the reception rooms where the 'court' had been created. Mick and Paul sat behind the table that had been arranged to form the 'bench'. They had found two wigs, relatively short black wigs, and wore these balanced precariously on their heads, with black sheets draped around their shoulders to form robes.
Andrew sat behind the small table to one side of them and all the former slaves were arrayed in the various chairs set out in front. There were bottles of spirits and wine everywhere.
Stephanie had not seen Devlin since they had got back to the castle, nor been able to exchange a single word with him. She had been taken down to the cellars as soon as they'd got back and locke
d in her cell all afternoon. Devlin had been taken upstairs by Amanda, and it was Amanda, wearing a tight gold-sequinned leotard and matching leggings, who had come to collect her from the cell. Once again she had allowed her to shower and use the toilet under Amanda's eagle eye but this time she had been allowed to dry herself.
'Put this on,' Amanda commanded.
They had selected something deliberately lewd. It was a black leather leotard with full-length sleeves but with round cut-outs to expose the breasts and a similar arrangement for each cheek of her buttocks, seemingly spreading and separating them obscenely.
As soon as she had wriggled into the garment Amanda had produced a hood, also in black hide, which she pulled down over Stephanie's head. It laced tightly at the back, the soft leather stretching over the contours of Stephanie's face and taking their shape. There were small oval openings for her eyes but none for her mouth. As soon as she was satisfied the hood was in place Amanda used two straps to secure Stephanie's arms behind her back, one at the elbow, which forced Stephanie's exposed breasts forward, and one at the wrists.
After allowing her back into her shoes, she had led the way upstairs. In the main hall Devlin was waiting. He too had been laced into a tight leather hood and his arms strapped behind him but otherwise he was naked. There were red welts on his buttocks to testify to what Amanda had already subjected him to that afternoon. Venetia dressed again in the black leather she had worn last night in the cellars, stood beside him.
At the word from inside the 'court' they were pushed forward. A chorus of boos and hisses from the assembled company greeted their arrival. The slaves were all in various stages of undress, the men as well as the women decked out in lingerie from the castle's extensive collection. A couple of the men wore only tiny white lacy panties that hardly covered their cocks, while some of the females wore no panties at all and were dressed in red satin basques or leather corsets with stockings and ridiculously high-heeled shoes. Some wore bras but had turned the cups down to expose their breasts. Many carried whips and aimed blows at Stephanie's rudely exposed rump, or at Devlin's as they passed down the middle of the two rows of chairs.
At the front of the court they were pushed into the two wing chairs that stood side by side. A long leather strap was buckled around the back of each chair and across the top of their waists, effectively securing them in place.
'Order, order, order,' Paul shouted over the catcalls and shouted comments that filled the room. He banged the table with a poker from the fireplace. Silence eventually fell.
'That's better. Now we are gathered here today, members of the jury, to try a heinous crime. The two accused are charged with serious offences including robbery of personal freedom and obscene behaviour. Do you find them guilty or not guilty?'
'Guilty,' everyone cried at once.
'No, no, there's been no evidence yet,' Andrew said, standing up and looking exasperated.
'But everyone knows they're guilty,' Mick said.
'We're having a trial first. Call the first witness.'
'I want to be a witness,' one of the male slaves called out.
'You're on the jury,' Paul objected.
'Amanda's the first witness,' Andrew said.
'Call Amanda then.'
Amanda got up from the seat she had taken next to Venetia on the front row and came over to the small table where Andrew sat.
'Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?'
'I do.'
'Will you please tell the court what happened to you on the night of the fifth of June,' Andrew said, getting to his feet.
'I was working for a company owned by this man...' She pointed at the bound figure of Devlin.
'Yes?'
'I was told by my immediate superior to report immediately to an office in the City of London.'
'And?'
'When I arrived I was shown into Devlin's office. He told me he had documentary evidence that I had been embezzling from his company and that unless I agreed to be a slave, a sex slave...' these words provoked a bout of boos and hisses from the jury, '...for the next three months he would go to the police and have me prosecuted.'
'And what did you do?'
'I agreed, reluctantly.'
'And you can positively identify this man as being in this court today?'
'I just did. Devlin, over there.'
'And now will you tell the court what happened at the castle?'
'She happened.' Amanda pointed at Stephanie.
'Let the record show the witness has identified the other defendant,' Andrew said solemnly.
'The bitch.'
'And what did she do to you?'
'She made my life a bloody misery, that's what. Wouldn't leave me alone. Always on my back for the slightest thing. Not putting my garden fatigues on quickly enough, not calling her mistress.'
'And she had you punished for this?'
'Whipped by that maniac Bruno or used by the guests, men and women.'
'Used in what way?'
'In any way they wanted. Sucking off the men and women. Being fucked. Anything they wanted.'
'And did you complain?'
'All the time, and every time I complained I was punished again. Whipped or made to work for longer in the gardens. All by her.' She pointed at Stephanie again. There were cries of 'yes' from the other slaves.
'Now Amanda, remember you are under oath. We come to the crucial question. Did you embezzle money from Devlin's company?'
'Absolutely not. Not guilty.'
Other slaves leapt to their feet with cries of 'Right', 'Exactly', and 'Not guilty' and 'Me too'.
'You may step down,' Paul said.
'No,' Andrew objected again. 'She's got to be cross-examined.'
'There's no one to cross-examine her,' Paul said.
'Mick can do it,' Amanda suggested.
'I'm a judge.'
'I'll do it,' Venetia said, getting to her feet.
'Good idea,' Paul said, banging the poker on the table to restore order, as talking had broken out in the jury.
Venetia stood in front of the bench.
'Cross-examine, then,' Andrew prompted.
'Didn't you enjoy everything that was done to you?'
'Objection,' Andrew cried, jumping to his feet.
'Objection sustained,' Mick declared. 'It's irrelevant whether she enjoyed it or not.'
'Were you forced to do anything against your will?'
'Yes,' Amanda replied, 'everything.'
'No further questions,' Venetia said, sitting down.
Stephanie tried to say something but her voice was muffled in the leather hood. Devlin moved his knee against hers. He was right. There was no point in saying anything.
'You may stand down now, and the court would like to thank you for your evidence,' Paul said to Amanda.
'Thank you, your worship.'
'Next witness.'
'Venetia is the next witness,' Andrew said.
'But she's acting for the defence,' Mick said.
'I believe the defendants have waived their right to a defence, is that correct?' Andrew was grinning.
'Yes, your honour,' Venetia said.
'Oh well, that's all right then. You can be a witness,' Paul pronounced.
'Call Venetia,' Mick added.
Venetia got to her feet again and stood in front of Andrew at the small table. She repeated the oath.
'Well, perhaps you'd tell the court your sad story in your own words.' Andrew said.
Venetia was silent.
'Devlin abused you,' he prompted again.
'Yes. That's right. He found me embezzling like Amanda...'
Amanda jumped to her feet. 'I wasn't embezzling!'
'I mean...' Venetia corrected herself, 'I mean, he accused me of embezzling from one of his companies. I was offered the same chance as Amanda but because he needed my computer skills so he could make sure his computer programs couldn't be tampered with again, I was allowed
freedom and not made to live at the castle.'
'But you were still a sex slave?'
'Yes, he let his girlfriend use me while he watched. She really hurt me.'
That much, Stephanie knew, was true. Venetia had told her about it when she first described the history of her relationship with Devlin.
'That was the defendant?'
'No, before she came on the scene...'
'But she has used you too?'
'Oh yes. I had an agreement with Devlin that I would never be used by a man but they broke it. I tried to defend her, help her, stop her being beaten by a cruel and wicked man who Devlin desperately needed to save a major business deal. But she didn't help me in return. The bastard wanted to see me used by a man...' Venetia shuddered at the memory. 'She watched, they all watched.' Venetia spat the words out with real bile.
'Not a nice lady,' Andrew commented.
'And she's used me ever since.'
Stephanie felt her heart sink for the second time that day. She had hoped against hope that Venetia was still on their side, that she was pretending to cooperate to gain some advantage but from the bitterness in her tone she found that hard to believe any longer. What she said was all perfectly true. Gianni, the man Devlin had needed for business reasons, had insisted she was fucked in front of him, the first time she had ever had a man. And Stephanie had watched too and done nothing. It was obvious that Venetia had not forgotten or forgiven and that their supposed special relationship since had counted for less than Stephanie had imagined. It appeared that Venetia too wanted her revenge.
'No more questions,' Andrew said, sitting down.
'Cross-examine,' Mick said.
'Does the witness want to cross-examine herself?'
'The defendants have waived their right to a defence,' Andrew reminded them.
'Oh, right.'
'That concludes the case for the prosecution.'
'No,' came cries from the jury, 'I want to say something'; 'Let me say something'; 'I want to give evidence'.
'Order, order...' Paul shouted, banging the poker.
Stephanie's Trial Page 15