'Let them speak,' Andrew said.
And they did. One after another the former slaves stood in front of the table and told stories of how they had been forced to come to the castle on trumped-up charges of fraud, theft and embezzlement, and had been used sexually by men and women. As their descriptions of what had been done to them became more and more graphic it was obvious that members of the jury were becoming aroused. In the front row of seats one of the men, who was wearing one of Stephanie's black lace teddies, had got an enormous erection. Two women on either side of him had extracted it from the silky material and while one sucked it enthusiastically, the other began kissing him on the mouth.
Paul banged the poker on the table to try and restore order.
'Will the jury please consider their verdict?'
'Guilty,' everyone shouted at once.
The sight of the woman bending over kissing the man provoked another male to get up and begin stroking the tight curves of her buttocks. She was wearing a white lace basque and white stockings but no panties and his hands rapidly slipped between the cleft of her arse down to the folds of her cunt which was sparsely haired and very visible. She moaned as he pushed two fingers inside her.
'Order, order...' Paul tried to continue. 'And that is the verdict of you all?'
'Yes,' came the shouted reply.
The second man's cock had hardened. He pulled down the white shorts - Devlin's - he was wearing and replaced his fingers with his penis, driving it home. The woman moaned but did not stop kissing the first man.
'It is our job to pass sentence,' Paul said solemnly, trying to ignore what was going on in front of his eyes.
The woman whose mouth was impaled on the first man's cock reached out between the second man's legs. She caught his balls in her hand and pulled them down as he pistoned in and out of the other woman's cunt, his penis slick with her juices. He moaned, his hands holding her hips slipped under the long suspenders of the basque.
'I sentence you, Devlin, to serve Amanda for as long as she so may choose.' Paul's own cock was hardening as he spoke.
'And I sentence you, Stephanie,' Mick said, 'to serve Andrew for as long as he may choose.'
'Is there anything the prisoners wish to say?' Neither Stephanie nor Devlin moved or tried to speak.
'Good, then the court is adjourned.' Paul banged the poker one final time and then virtually vaulted over the table to join the melee among the jury.
One of the female slaves was watching the little circle of fucking. She was dressed in one of the black satin suspender belts from the wardrobes in the cellar and very sheer shiny stockings, as well as black spike-heeled shoes. She had been wearing a short summer dress too but pulled this off as the foursome developed in front of her eyes. She was not wearing a bra and her big breasts trembled as she sat with her legs wide open and fingered her clitoris with one hand and pinched her right nipple with the other. Her cunt, like the woman who was being fucked in front of her, was almost hairless, its labia thin. Exposed as it was, her cunt looked small and extremely round like lips pouted to say 'oh' and Paul could not resist it. Pulling the tracksuit bottoms he had worn under the black sheets down and the sheets off, he knelt in front of her, his cock sticking up from his loins.
'Well, you're just what I need,' the girl said, hooking her arms round his neck and sliding forward until her wet cunt felt his hard cock on her labia. Using his hand, Paul guided it home.
All around the 'court' the scene degenerated into sex. Andrew headed for the foursome. The woman who was sucking the man's cock had a large plum-shaped arse. She had slipped onto her knees in front of him and the white panties she wore covered only a small triangle of her buttocks. Paul pulled the panties down as far as they would go, which wasn't far, and watched his cock sink into the deep cleft of flesh. She reared her backside up at him and his cock slid effortlessly into her wet sex.
Stephanie watched Molly, the petite blonde, turn to kiss the girl next to her. Almost immediately Molly's hand was rubbing the girl's tits and her mouth followed it, until she got to her knees, opened the girl's legs and pulled the crotch of the girl's panties aside to get at the auburn hair of her labia. The girl responded by hooking her thighs over Molly's shoulders, pressing her sex onto Molly's eager mouth.
Another scene had developed with the two remaining females. One had stripped completely naked and pulled one of the men down onto the thick carpet, clearing away the chairs. He lay on his back as the second woman sucked him to erection, then made way for the first to kneel over him, helping her to guide his cock into her hot wet cunt. At the same time the second woman swivelled round and knelt above his head, her glistening labia right over his mouth. As his cock slid into one woman, his tongue slid into another, and the two women leant forward to kiss each other hard on their mouths, their hands playing with the other's breasts.
But that didn't complete the picture. Mick knelt behind the girl whose cunt was already being fucked. Slowly he nosed his cock into the puckered opening of her anus.
'Yes,' she said enthusiastically. 'Oh yes, do it. I love it.'
She wriggled her arse back at him by way of encouragement. He pushed forward into the tight rear passage made even tighter by the presence of a cock reaming into her cunt.
The second girl saw what was happening and began to feel left out. She caught the hand of one of the only other two men not engaged in sex, both of whom were watching this performance.
'Do it to me,' she said.
He didn't hesitate. His cock was fully erect. He knelt behind her, seeing the other man's head between her thighs, his tongue still working on her cunt. He pushed his cock forward and felt the tongue too. Pulling back he found the entrance to her arse.
'Yes, there,' the girl said excitedly. As he pressed his cock home she moaned, gripping the first woman's breasts more tightly, her fingernails digging into her nipples.
The last man got up and rid himself of shirt and trousers. The writhing mass of bodies in front of him had taken up a rhythm like some monstrous many-headed animal trying to bring itself off. Three cocks and one tongue plunged home in perfect synchronisation, the two women so full of sensation they were coming almost continuously, almost unable to catch their breath between huge shockwaves of feeling.
The last man stood beside them. Both girls were blonde, one with long hair and the other with her hair cut into a neck-length bob. It was the one with the long hair who had both cocks buried in her body but both girls looked wild, their eyes unfocused, their bodies trembling. They were clinging to each other so tightly it was as if they feared to let go, feared they might drown in sensation.
They kissed each other continuously, not tonguing kisses but little nibbles and sucks. The last man put his hands on the back of their heads and pushed his cock between their lips as they met.
'Mmm...' the long-haired woman mumbled at once.
They both licked and sucked enthusiastically, yet another notch to rack up their excitement. They felt the cock throbbing between their lips, just as the other cocks throbbed in their bodies. Their orgasm continued to roll over them. Their cunts were so wet their juices ran out over the men's balls. The man who was licking out the second woman had to swallow her juice, there was so much. The women had never been wetter, nor the men harder.
If it hadn't been for the indulgences of last night they would have all come in seconds. But they held on, wallowing in the feelings of being completely engulfed in sex. It was the man in the long-haired blonde's cunt who came first, unable to stand the excitement any longer, never having seen or felt anything like this. He bucked his hips one final time, then held his cock still as he felt it spasm and jet spunk into her sex. This throbbing, spunking cock, separated from his only by the thin membranes of the woman's body, set Mick off too, plunging him over the edge of a shattering climax, his spunk jetting out into the hot tight passage of her arse, as he felt the other shaft jerking against him.
The man embedded in the other woman's a
rse felt all this as though it were vibrations directly in her body, the orgasm transmitted from one woman to the other like musical harmony. He too felt his cock spasm and spunk as he felt the other man's tongue still licking underneath him. All the bodies were trembling, all in a kind of shock, all shaking uncontrollably from the aftermath of orgasm.
The last man could stand it no longer either. His penis began to spasm. The other's view was restricted but he could see everything, see the two women, their lips wrapped around either side of his cock, their breasts squeezed tightly in each other's hands, their cunts open, their thighs bent as they knelt over the man's prostrate body. As the shorter-haired blonde felt the cock begin to twitch she moved her mouth round quickly and took it between her lips. Not a moment too soon because just as the cock invaded her throat she felt its spunk pumping out in great hot gobs.
But she wasn't selfish. She waited until the man's crisis had passed and his cock had shrunk slightly, then pulled away from him and leant forward to kiss the other woman, using her tongue to give her a share of the spoils. They both swallowed spunk. Some escaped and dribbled from their mouths.
Amanda decided it was time to join the party. But she wanted to be alone. Quickly she unbuckled the leather strap that held Devlin into the wing chair. She pulled him to his feet.
'Follow me,' she said, striding out of the room. He nearly tripped over one of the slaves as he hurried to follow her.
Stephanie looked around for Venetia. She had slipped away. Not that that gave Stephanie any grounds for hope. After the way Venetia had testified with such venom, any hope she had in that department had gone. Venetia had disappeared for no other reason than she had no desire to see what she did not care to do.
For the moment no one paid any attention to Stephanie. It was just as well. Left to the not-at-all-tender mercies of Andrew and Amanda, she could imagine that her life, and Devlin's, was going to be very unpleasant from now on.
It was going to be a long time before any of the company grew bored of this situation. There was lots of money to buy food from the mainland and enough booze to keep the party going for months. Their sexual appetites would not be satiated quickly either, not with the extra ingredient, for the slaves at least, of being able to savour something that had been so long forbidden.
Tied and helpless, Stephanie cursed herself again. If she had only paid attention to her instincts none of this would have happened...
Stephanie had spent the night in her cell. The evening's proceedings after the trial had left the whole company exhausted and in no mood to play further games with their newly sentenced slaves. She had heard Amanda locking Devlin away in the next-door cell and then, once again, silence had descended on the cellars and not a sound was to be heard.
For the first time since the slaves had taken over, food was provided. A tray of bread, cheese and fruit was left in the cell. Stephanie had not eaten since breakfast the day before and she had consumed avidly everything they had given her.
It was a long time, in the darkness of the cell, before anyone came again and Stephanie could only sleep fitfully. With no mattress the stone floor provided little comfort and even though her arms had been freed and she was bound only by the ankle chain, it was difficult to find a position that afforded a good chance of sleep. Her mind refused to stop working either. Now that she was convinced Venetia had thrown her lot in with the rebels, there seemed little possibility of escape. The future that stretched ahead seemed bleak. The tables had been turned and, effectively and completely, she and Devlin were now the slaves of the castle.
In the morning, at least Stephanie assumed it was the morning since her watch now belonged to Amanda and she had no other means of telling the time, one of the former female slaves came to unlock Stephanie from the ankle cuff and took her to wash and use the toilet. But she was returned to her cell immediately and the ankle cuff was reattached. Hours later, how many she could not tell as time dragged so slowly, a tray of food - water, bread, cheese and fruit again - was pushed into the cell and the light left on.
Again Stephanie ate everything and the food made her feel better. She had to try and think positively. Andrew and Amanda would inevitably get bored with the castle. The former slaves would all gradually drift away and the castle would become increasingly more difficult to live in with no servants to clean up the mess that was being made. Sooner or later they would be free.
But as much as she tried to be optimistic, there were still nagging doubts. Venetia might go into the village - where they all knew her - and persuade the servants to return to serve a new master. There was plenty of money in the safe to pay them and Venetia knew how, through the computer, to get more transferred to the local bank. Andrew and Amanda could live a life of total luxury for months to come, with Devlin and herself to amuse them and satisfy their every whim.
Stephanie shivered. They had stripped her out of the leather leotard before putting her in the cell and she was naked again. The experience reminded her of the time she had spent in Gianni's cellars after he had kidnapped her: cold and helpless. Then, as now, she had been naked and available for use.
She would have given anything to be able to speak to Devlin. She tried knocking on the stone wall with the links of the metal chain, hoping Devlin would hear and respond. Even a couple of meaningless taps would have been important to her; it would be contact, however limited. But though she listened intently there was not a sound in reply and she sunk back into listless depression, leaning against the cold stone wall and closing her eyes.
She must have fallen asleep because the cell door being thrust open woke her with a start.
'Playtime,' Amanda announced. Again she was dressed in one of Stephanie's outfits, this time a crimson red silk creation. It was backless with a halter neck and a tight knee-length skirt. Her legs were sheathed in sheer black nylon and her feet in red shoes with very high heels, the heels themselves clad in a chrome metal casing. She wore long crimson suede gloves that covered her arms to well above the elbow. She had taken her time with her make-up and hair. She wore a dark red lipstick to match the dress and an eye-shadow in a similar shade that made her light brown eyes look deeper and more alluring. Her short black hair had been brushed out and seemed to have a noticeable sheen to it.
As she got down on her haunches to unlock the metal ankle cuff, Stephanie saw the time on the Patek Phillipe watch, her Patek Phillipe watch, was nine o'clock.
'Up,' she ordered. Stephanie got to her feet. With the high heels, Amanda was taller than her for once. 'Are you going to behave or do I have to cuff you again?'
'I'll do what you want,' Stephanie said.
'Very sensible. Follow me, then.'
Amanda led the way to the small door of the back staircase that led directly to Stephanie's bedroom. The vaulted corridor outside the cells was still a mess, with empty bottles of booze and mattresses strewn about the floor. One of the garden overseers was lying on a mattress, his arms bound behind his back with leather straps and his legs tied together with thick white rope so it was impossible for him to move a muscle. A leather strap had also been tied tightly around his cock and under his balls. Judging from the way it glistened and from the strong aroma of sex, he had been used by one of the females recently, though clearly she had been careful not to let him have any gratification.
Stephanie mounted the stone staircase first, with Amanda following. The stairwell was always cold, getting no sun and being sunk right in the heart of the thick stone walls. Stephanie shivered and felt her nipples pucker as the air chilled her to the bone.
Emerging in her bedroom, she was amazed to find most of the mess she had seen last time had been cleared away. The wardrobes and drawers were closed and all the clothes and items of equipment had been put away. The doors to the terrace were open and Stephanie could see Andrew standing near the parapet, looking over the lake to the mainland where, in the distance, the lights from occasional houses and the one village shone like stars against the dark cano
py of night.
Hearing their arrival, Andrew walked back into the bedroom and closed the terrace doors. He was wearing one of Devlin's silk Sulka robes, knotted at the waist.
'Good evening,' he said. 'You look as though you could do with a wash and brush-up, and some make-up. That's no way to appear in front of your master, is it?' He came up to her and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger.
'No,' Stephanie said, resisting the temptation to add that she didn't have any choice.
'No what?'
She knew the answer to that question straight away. 'No, master,' she said unenthusiastically.
Amanda pulled her towards the bathroom. 'So get yourself looking decent,' she said, pushing her inside and closing the door.
Being in her own bathroom was not much of a relief. It reminded her of what she had won and what she had lost. She ran a hot bath, washed her hair and sat down to apply make-up for the first time in three days. She applied a mascara and blusher to her cheeks,' which looked pale from lack of sunlight already, she thought, and painted on a very red lipstick. She had not seen herself in a mirror for three days.
With her make-up on and her hair dried and brushed out she looked good: apart from the slight paleness there was no sign, in her face at least, of the deprivations she had suffered.
The bathroom door opened and Andrew entered, closing it behind him. Stephanie faced his cold, unwavering eyes. For once he had the power over her, total power. He could do anything with her and she knew he would. He had been her slave, now she was his.
'Oh that's much better,' he said. 'You're a very beautiful woman aren't you, slave?'
'Yes, master,' she said demurely. It was the role she knew she would have to play. There was no point railing against it. For the immediate future Andrew was her master. He would decide what she ate, what she wore, when she slept and where. She belonged to him and she knew there was nothing else to do but accept it, just like the sensible slaves at the castle had done. The line of least resistance, the line Andrew and Amanda had never learned to follow.
Stephanie's Trial Page 16