'Oh, yes...' the brunette groaned.
Immediately the Inquisitor pulled the shaft back.
'Oh no, no, please...'
He pushed the shaft in again.
'Thank you, thank—' Her gratitude turned instantly to alarm as the shaft was pulled away. 'No, no!' Her whole body was sweating, her mind, in the enforced darkness behind the mask, able to see nothing but a picture of a dildo slipping effortlessly between the lips of her sex. She could see it in every detail, a beautifully shaped imitation of a penis, the acorn of the glans carved in wood, the little slit of the urethra, everything perfect as it plunged up into her. She could even hear it, hear the noise it would make as it parted her labia, the silky whisper her juices would sing as it penetrated her. She had to have it, she had to.
'Please...'
'Do you confess?'
'Any thing, any thing.'
'Confess.'
'Yes, yes, damn you, I'm a witch. Please give it to me, please...'
The Inquisitor looked at the candle. More than half its length had disappeared. She had been stubborn. More stubborn than most. He looked into the casket through the little window and watched the brunette writhe hopelessly. He started to count out loud.
'One, two, three...'
'Please.' Ever more desperate.
'Four, five, six...'
She angled herself towards the shaft, knowing it was coming, her body heaving with total frustration, desperate for release.
'Seven, eight, nine...' He smiled again, delaying the last count. 'Ten.'
His hand seized the wooden shaft and pushed it forward. Even though he could not see it, he could feel it forcing its way effortlessly into her body.
'My God, my God...' she moaned continuously. The woman was impaled on the shaft. It lunged up into her, stretching her clitoris, opening her. Almost before it had come to rest the brunette started to come, her whole body centred on the head of the dildo. At last, the teasing, the frustration were released. She came like she couldn't remember ever coming before, every nerve stretched to breaking point, the muscles in her body convulsing against the strange padded fibre, sensing once again its potency.
'I'm a witch,' she said softly, when finally her body came to rest.
'Yes, my dear, you are.' The Inquisitor took the pinion out of the hasp and swung the door of the casket open. Without support the woman almost fell to the floor.
'Shall we move on?' the Baron said as the woman was helped over to a wooden bench to rest.
Again Stephanie felt momentarily disorientated, so involved had she become in the woman's plight - even though she had no idea of exactly what was going on in the confinement of the iron maiden. The sound of the brunette's voice in extremity had been enough to make her imagination run riot. Her final moan had seemed to vibrate through the room forever, her vocal cords, like every other part of her body, stretched and throbbing with pleasure.
'Shall we move on?' the Baron repeated, gently touching Stephanie's elbow to snap her out of her reverie.
'Oh yes, sorry.'
'Or would you like to stay?'
'No, no, let's go on.'
Under the tight long dress, Stephanie's body felt suddenly hot. She could feel her nipples pressing hard against its silk lining. Between her legs her sex had responded too, sending little messages to tell her it had been awakened from its temporary slumber. A slick of moisture had begun to dampen the gusset of the sheer tights she was wearing; the dress was much too tight to allow her to wear panties.
The Baron had already opened the door at the end of the gantry by the time Devlin took Stephanie's arm. He led her over to it, recognising only too well the tell-tale signs of her excitement, though he had been only mildly interested in the spectacle.
To Stephanie's surprise, the exit door from this pavilion led not to another length of tubular Perspex but to a short flight of stairs which took them down to what she judged to be ground level. Another metal door opened automatically at the bottom of the stairs.
They found themselves this time not on an overhead gantry but in a passage along the side of the building. This time the same one-way glass, or whatever the material was that allowed them to see without being seen, had been used to form the wall of what looked like a Victorian prison. It was easy to see why a gantry would not have been appropriate to view the interior of this 'theme'; most of the space was divided into small cells, with the exception of the far end which formed a large recreational area.
Unlike the other two pavilions, this one, it was immediately apparent, was occupied only by women. Each of the six or seven cells were occupied by two women. Their basic uniform was a dirty grey jacket and fatigue pants, but there was no such regulation in their underwear, and as Stephanie walked to and fro looking into each cubicle, she saw a variety of lingerie. Everything from plain cotton to luxurious silk and satin was in view as the inmates stripped off their uniforms to prepare for bed.
In one of the cells a couple of women were already naked and engaged in oral sex, their mouths buried between each other's thighs, licking and sucking and panting their pleasure.
'This is the only non-guest,' the Baron whispered as he adjusted the sound system. 'Brunehilda I hired especially.'
As he said this, a woman in a black uniform and shiny black boots and gloves unlocked the door into the recreation room. She then relocked it behind her. She was a strawberry blonde, her hair wrapped into two plaits like a young child's, which was completely at odds with the rest of her appearance. Everything else about her suggested a female shot-putter. She looked incredibly strong, with her squat, heavy legs under her short black skirt, her barrel chest, her thick wrists and her bulging biceps.
Around the uniform jacket she wore a belt, attached to which was a chatelaine of keys. Tucked under her arm was a swagger stick. Walking down the corridor of cells she gazed through the peep-holes set in each metal door to inspect the inmates in her charge.
The moment she saw the naked couple engrossed in their mutual cunnilingus, she unlocked the door of the cell and threw it open with a crash.
'What do you think you are doing?'
The women's heads came up and they tore away from each other. They cowered into the corner and wiped their mouths dry as the Warden advanced.
'Nothing, mistress,' one of the women managed to gasp.
'Nothing!' The Warden pulled the swagger slick out from under her arm and slashed it across the woman's naked chest. At its tip it had a fine network of thin lashes that caught the woman's large breast at its meatiest part. 'Do you think I'm stupid? You know the rules. If you want to go down on each other, you first go down on me.' Her accent was very guttural and Germanic.
'Yes, mistress. We thought...' The other woman, much smaller and thinner than her companion, stammered.
'You do not think. You did not think at all.'
Another blow from the swagger stick caught the second woman across her thigh. 'Well, you're going to get your punishment right away. Come here.' She indicated the floor in front of her. 'Hands behind your back. At once!' Hooked into the belt around the Warden's waist was a little leather case. She opened it and extracted two pairs of traditional metal handcuffs. She quickly snapped one pair around the smaller woman, then manoeuvred the other so her wrists were cuffed with the central span linked across the first pair. They were effectively bound together back to back.
'I've got a little present for my girls,' she smiled. 'You, unfortunately will not be joining in, though I'm sure you will hear everything...'
'No mistress, please. Punish us tomorrow,' the smaller woman begged, knowing full well what the present was.
'Oh, don't leave us in here,' the other one added pathetically, knowing it was useless to argue.
'The rules are here to be obeyed, no?'
The Warden gave both women a parting stroke across their thighs with the swagger stick, then marched out, locking the door behind her. Then, one by one, she unlocked all the other cells, opened their
doors and barked out at the occupants, 'Recreation room at once. Schnell, schnell...'
Excited, the women gathered, all in various states of undress, none stopping to put clothes back on. A steady parade of slim thighs, tight buttocks and every possible shape and size of breast assembled in the large room at the end of the hall. The only thing that all the women had in common was that they wore what appeared to be regulation issue black high-heeled stiletto shoes.
It was clear that this was something of a routine; all the women seemed to know perfectly well what to expect. They whispered to each other and giggled. On the Warden's instructions, two of the women carried a heavy wooden trestle into the middle of the room, its upper surface padded and covered in suede, a leather strap secured at the base of each of its legs.
'Inspection, schnell,' the Warden snapped.
Without further instruction, the women hurried to obey and lined up smartly in two ranks like soldiers on parade. They stood with their heads up and their arms straight down at their sides, the variety of lingerie they wore as great as the variety of shapes and sizes in their figures. Some of the women were tall and slim, others small and plump; the rest covered the whole spectrum in between. Hair colour and length varied too, from jet black and long to tightly cut and the lightest of blondes.
The Warden strode down the two ranks of prisoners, her black boots clanking against the stone. 'Very nice.'
Her second inspection was much slower. She stopped in front of every prisoner to examine her minutely, using the swagger stick to touch their bodies. She prodded one prisoner's brassiered breasts, inserted it in the waistband of another's panties, then pulled the elastic out and let it snap back painfully. She used her gloved hand to squeeze the cheeks of the tallest woman, moulding her mouth into a puckered O. On a rather plump woman, in a black suspender belt and stockings but otherwise naked, she used the tip of the stick to lift each breast in turn. Then she ran her gloved hand down into the woman's thick mousy pubic hair, examining her labia and making the woman flinch.
'Very sensitive, Fraulein,' she said, moving her leather-covered finger deeper between the woman's legs.
'Yes, Warden.'
'You're on report.'
'No, Warden.' The woman looked genuinely shocked.
'Don't contradict me.'
'I haven't done anything, Warden.'
'You are being insolent.'
'No, Warden...'
'How dare you argue with me! Be quiet.'
The woman was about to argue further but decided against it.
The Warden moved on to the second rank. Again her swagger stick and gloved hands made free with the prisoner's semi-naked bodies. A distinctive and quite tall redhead, her long legs encased in black opaque stockings, her sex barely covered by a tiny black lace G-string, was given the same treatment as the plump woman, but did not react in any way. This seemed to displease the Warden too.
'Get on your knees,' she ordered.
Without a word the redhead sunk to her knees.
'You know what is required.'
Again without demur, the redhead began to lick the shiny black leather on the Warden's boots, from the toe to the top of the calf. She started on one boot then moved to the other, pressing her head between the Warden's legs to get at the back of each boot.
'Such a good Fraulein,' the Warden said, watching the girl work, and using the lashes on the swagger stick to caress her naked, curved back. 'I choose you.'
'Thank you, mistress,' the redhead said, pausing halfway up the second boot. Apparently, she knew full well what this meant.
As soon as she had finished the redhead stopped, her head still bowed, waiting for instructions.
'Up,' came the order and the redhead scrambled to her feet and stood back in line.
Satisfied that all was in order, the Warden went over to the door of the recreation room. She found the appropriate key on the bunch at her belt, unlocked the big mortise lock again and strode out of the room, leaving the door open. But almost as soon as she had disappeared she reappeared, this time leading a naked man by a chain around his waist. She shepherded him in and relocked the door. Coming from behind him she shoved him in the back so hard and unexpectedly that he went sprawling on the floor.
'Well, ladies, I present to you the entertainment for tonight. Shall we make him comfortable?'
The women broke ranks at once and crowded round the naked man, pulling him up to his feet, putting hands all over his body. The hands nipped and pinched at him, feeling his muscles, his buttocks, his nipples, his cock and balls: hard, spiteful fingers with long nails raking over his flesh. His cock, flaccid when he had been led in, stiffened rapidly and hands wrapped around it, squeezed it - not at all gently - while others cupped his balls.
The man was comparatively young but he was not very healthy-looking or athletic. His body was soft and sallow and though he was not fat he was beginning to develop a paunch. He had brown curly hair and a jowly round face.
The women, knowing the procedure, dragged him over to the wooden trestle.
'Over,' the Warden ordered - unnecessarily, as several hands were already forcing the man's head down and pulling his arms out in front of him. Nimble fingers made short work of folding the leather straps at the base of the legs around his wrists and ankles. Once they were buckled, he was pinioned to the frame.
'Back,' the Warden commanded and the women, with obvious reluctance, retreated to form a circle around the bound victim. 'This thing,' the Warden continued, 'this animal, this abomination, was caught this evening trying to break into this prison. To break in here. Can you imagine anything so foolish, Liebchen? What was he trying to do, rescue an inmate, or just get in among you with his Pimmel?' To emphasise this point, the swagger stick nudged against the man's cock. 'So, we have to teach him a lesson, no?'
'Yes!' the women roared together.
The Warden caressed the man's backside almost lovingly. In this position it was spread open, the puckered mouth of his anus clearly visible, his heavy balls hanging down between his thighs. Her hand slipped down between his legs, caressing his thighs, then cupping his balls in her gloved palm.
'A stocking, if you please,' she said.
The redhead who had licked her boots rolled down one of her very black hold-ups and handed it to the Warden, who, in turn, handed the redhead the swagger stick to hold. She flexed the stocking in both hands, stretched it out tight until it was no more than a thin ribbon, and felt under the man's thighs. There, the Warden threaded the nylon under the shaft of his penis and around his balls before tying it tight.
From one of the pockets in her uniform jacket the Warden extracted a single rubber glove. She removed the black leather from her right hand and fitted the thin surgical rubber in its place. Casually she penetrated the man's anus right up to the knuckle of her forefinger. He moaned.
'Begin,' the Warden said.
The redhead raised the swagger stick and stroked its lashes down on to the man's thighs. The man jerked against his bonds but did not cry out. The redhead passed the whip to the next woman in the circle who used it on the man's back, before immediately passing it to the next woman, who beat his other thigh... and so on right the way round the circle until the last blow fell on his thigh again, all with the Warden's finger firmly planted inside the man's rear.
The man had begun to moan, then gasp and even scream at the harder strokes, and she felt his body contracting around her finger. It excited her, made her pulse race. She withdrew her finger, stripped off the glove, pulled on the leather one and took back the swagger stick. The man's body was reddened all over, except his buttocks which had not been touched for fear of accidentally hitting the Warden's arm. That was not to last long. Moving to one side the Warden raised the whip, then slashed it down on the virgin territory.
'No!' the man screamed.
Five strokes followed, hard, well-aimed blows delivered with the Warden's considerable power. Each fell on a new area of flesh, creating an inst
ant network of fine red welts. Each burnt a shock of pain into the man's body that served only to fuel his excitement, and his cock swelled, hardening against the confinement of the nylon tied so unyieldingly around it.
The Warden's gloved hand, cool to the touch, smoothed over the rump it had tortured, making him squirm with a combination of pain and pleasure. Then her own desires, the heavy, relentless throb she had aroused in herself, began to demand her attention.
She turned to the redhead. 'Come on. It is time.' She unlocked the recreation room door, ushered the redhead through and closed it behind them with a resounding clang. The mechanism of the lock clicked loudly as the key was turned on the other side.
For a long moment none of the women moved, waiting to see if the Warden was going to return. She didn't.
Then, as if by some secret signal, pandemonium broke out. The women were literally falling over themselves to get at the hapless man. The tall, long-haired brunette got down on the floor under the trestle and managed to get his cock in her mouth. The plump woman slapped his buttocks with the palm of her hand. Another big-breasted woman rubbed her tits all over his whip-reddened back; still another, also on her knees, forced his head up by holding his hair and kissed him full on the mouth.
The rest of the company began unbuckling his limbs. Soon, though he was pulled this way and that like a rope in a tug of war, he was pressed down onto the hard stone floor.
Immediately the plump woman crouched over his face, forcing her nether mouth on to his lips.
'Make it good,' she cried, and wriggled her hips until she felt his tongue delving between her labia.
'Make it good,' another woman echoed, having won the battle to see who would mount his hips and use his rampant cock. She lowered herself onto his bone-hard shaft and almost orgasmed instantly. Groping hands covered her body, rubbing and pinching her thighs and buttocks and breasts, exploring her clitoris, picking her up off his shaft and slamming her down again, wanting to make her come quickly so they could have their turn. Hands encompassed the plump woman too for the same reason, pinching her nipples and stroking her breasts. They soon got their reward. Both women raced to orgasm, unable to contain their excitement.
Stephanie's Pleasure Page 11