'Do it,' Stephanie ordered as Hanna looked up to receive the final command.
'God.' Devlin's voice was thin and reedy as the metal slid into him. He shook with pleasure. His anus felt so sensitive he thought he was going to come. It was like being a woman; he couldn't get that thought out of his mind. The Chair had opened him, exposed him, sensitised him. As he'd listened to Stephanie's pleasure, his anus had throbbed. Now it was being fucked.
The cannula slid deep into his body, the lubricating cream making the journey effortless. Hanna, satisfied it was all the way home, locked it in place by tightening a bolt on the pivot.
Mischa, meanwhile, was fitting two wide, padded, V-shaped sections into brackets that protruded either side of the central frame. They looked like armrests, but were much wider. As soon as they were securely in place Hanna fetched a little red velvet stool to enable Stephanie to get up on to the rests. She climbed on and swung one thigh over Devlin's prostrate body so she was kneeling precisely over his cock.
Devlin heard the movement and suddenly felt the familiar heat of his mistress's sex only a fraction of an inch away. If he could have pushed his hips up he would have touched her labia, but the straps over his navel prevented even this degree of movement. It did not stop him trying.
Hanna resumed her position kneeling between Devlin's legs. Mischa was at her side with a long thin probe, a plastic shaft tipped with a ball of cotton wool, in her hand. As Hanna reached forward and gripped the handles of the instrument inserted in Devlin's body, Stephanie eased herself down so that the tip of his cock nestled in her soaking wet sex.
'Ah...' Devlin moaned. Any contact with his cock, however light, was incredibly welcome after so long without it.
Hanna began to open the handles of the instrument, pushing the hollow blades apart at the same time.
'No!' Devlin screamed immediately.
She opened them wider, feeling the resistance of his body.
'No, no, please...' He was being eased open, this time from inside.
Stephanie pressed herself down on to his cock a little more until she could feel it at the mouth of her sex.
'No, no, no,' Devlin was shouting as Hanna opened the handles wider. 'I can't take it.'
But he could. The fear, the pain were translated instantly into such hot burning sensual pleasure that he felt spunk pumping into his cock. They were prising him apart. He strained against every strap, pulled and twisted and writhed, and did not manage to move one inch. He pressed his thighs together, trying to close himself, but the steel they had fitted to the inside of the metal limbs did not yield at all.
Wider and wider the two blades spread. In fact the movement was minuscule but the feeling was enormous.
'I beg you.'
Hanna stopped. Devlin breathed again. Mischa handed Hanna the probe and they waited for Stephanie to give the order.
Stephanie pushed herself down on the throbbing cock. She had never felt it so hot. It was as though it were on fire. Her clitoris was throbbing too. This was so exciting she was coming again.
'Do it,' she managed to gasp.
Hanna inserted the probe into the channel in the instrument designed for this purpose. Devlin was so open he felt nothing until the cotton tip reached the very top of the cavern opened by the cannula. As the tip nudged forward it felt as though it were touching the absolute centre of his sexual being, as though every layer of protection, every shield had been peeled back to expose the throbbing, defenceless central core. It felt as though he had been laid up and dissected so that the most sensitive part of his anatomy could be reached, and now he was being licked by a tongue of fire. Time ceased to exist. Everything ceased to exist except the tongue inside his body and his cock, spurting his spunk up towards Stephanie's labia, towards the mouth of her sex which was pursed as though ready to kiss it. His cock jerked so violently it escaped the kiss and instead sprayed spunk upward, on to her clitoris, over her black pubic hair and down over her thighs.
His orgasm went on and on and on. He pressed himself down on the probe and felt his body leap again as though charged with a jolt of electricity.
Stephanie grabbed his cock and guided it to the mouth of her sex, this time pushing down on it until it was inside her. That was all she needed. She had felt everything Devlin had felt, the empathy between them so total. She knew how he had been touched, excited, spread open. Knew her orgasm was going to be almost as powerful as his.
Just before she lost control, before her eyes rolled back and her body convulsed around Devlin's massive pulsing cock, she looked at the blank wall in front of her. She knew the Baron was there, watching her: her body, her breasts, her sex. She could see his expression, his hunger. That was the final thrill.
Chapter Eight
It was the sun streaming through the gaps in the heavy curtains that woke Stephanie. She slipped out of bed quietly so as not to disturb Devlin and drew back the curtains a little to enable her to look out. If she had ever seen a more beautiful view in her life, she couldn't remember it. The lake stretched out into the distance, surrounded by a dark green forest of conifers sprinkled with snow which gave on to the steep craggy mountains on the horizon. A flock of ducks near the bridge leading to the Schloss decided as one that they wanted to take to the air; they kicked and skimmed the water until their big wings developed the lift to hoist them into flight.
Though the sun was still low in the sky its heat was thawing the snow on the tops of some of the trees. Now and then there were sudden flurries as the melted snow crashed to the ground bringing most of the rest of the snow with it.
Stephanie felt pangs of hunger. After showering quickly and brushing out her long hair she slipped into a lacy, white silk teddy and matching negligee. When she had tucked her feet into white high-heeled satin slippers, she went in search of food.
Downstairs she found the Baron sitting in a small breakfast room with panoramic views over the lake. It opened on to a terrace where in summer, no doubt, meals were served.
'Good morning,' he said, jumping to his feet. 'You look enchanting, if I may say so.'
'Thank you.'
'Did you sleep well?'
'Very well. And it's such a beautiful morning.'
'I thought a boat trip on the lake. The sun is so warming at this time of the year...'
'How lovely.'
He pulled back a chair at the table and Stephanie sat down. A waiter appeared with a silver coffee pot and poured steaming black liquid into the white porcelain cup already set on the table.
'What would you like for breakfast? We Germans eat meat and cheese as well as sweetbreads. But you may prefer something more English or French?'
'Yes, croissants please.'
The waiter left at once. The Baron's plate was laid with two slices of salami and an odd rubbery looking cheese speckled with little seeds.
'Devlin is still asleep?' he asked.
'Yes. He was quite exhausted by your ingenuity. I hope you will give me the designs for those devices.'
'Certainly. I'll have them shipped out to you. I thought you'd find them interesting. And what of the other pavilions?'
'All very imaginative.'
'But not exciting?'
'Oh yes, yes...' Stephanie was trying to think of how to describe her feelings.
'Go on.'
'Actually, to tell you the truth I'm not sure how I feel. I think it was all too much to assimilate in one go. My mind's still working on it. I need time. Ask me later. My subconscious will have sorted it out by then.' That was exactly how she felt. Last night, in the fin-de-siècle bordello, she had certainly orgasmed explosively; but the other pavilions had their attractions too, and she wasn't at all sure which affected her most. She knew her mind would sort through the options in its own time.
The waiter returned with a basket of croissants, brioches and rolls wrapped in a white linen serviette. He set them on the table with a selection of jams in circular white pots and a silver butter dish.
; Stephanie ate hungrily, consuming a croissant and a brioche. Not once did she take her eyes off the Baron, who sat coolly sipping his coffee.
'And you?' she asked eventually.
'Me?'
'Did you enjoy last night's festivities?'
'Very much.'
'You watched?'
'Oh yes. My dear, you are an exceptionally beautiful creature. I wouldn't let the opportunity of watching you take your pleasure so wholeheartedly go to waste.'
'And what about your pleasure?'
'My pleasure?'
'Is that all you do, Baron? Watch?'
The Baron turned to look her squarely in the eyes. 'You asked me that before.'
'Yes. I said it was a pity. And it is. You are a very attractive man. I thought that when you came to the castle. I still think it. You promised me last night we'd talk about it again.'
'Yes I did.'
'It's not just idle curiosity, you see.'
'What is it then?'
'I told you, I find you very attractive. In my life recently I've tended to get what I want. I would like to think I could have you.'
The Baron smiled indulgently and touched Stephanie's hand as it rested on the table. 'I find that very flattering.'
'But?'
'There are no buts.'
'But you only want to watch?'
'Yes. No...' The Baron hesitated. Stephanie could see him deciding what he was going to say next. 'I am a businessman, my dear. I will make a deal with you. Tonight, if you will let me watch you in one of the other pavilions - whichever you care to choose - I will tell you what you want to know. I will tell you what would give me the ultimate in sexual pleasure. Is that a deal?'
'Certainly.'
'Good.' The Baron got to his feet. 'Meantime, I have another surprise for you.' He looked at his watch. 'Can you be ready by twelve?'
'For our boat trip?'
'Exactly. I think you'll find it interesting.'
'I find you interesting.'
'If you'll excuse me.'
Stephanie took in the Baron's stiff upright stance as he walked across the room. The exchange had left her body tingling and she found herself hoping that the deal they had made would satisfy more than his voyeurism.
Though in the sun it was warm, any area of shadow would be cold so Stephanie wore a thick pair of tights, leather trousers and a cashmere sweater under her fur coat. Devlin, who had had his breakfast sent up to their room, had to deal with some urgent business that had come up when he'd called his London office, and so decided to beg off the trip. Now he sat by the window as a servant arranged a desk for him and brought over the fax machine from the panelled recess.
'I'll watch your progress,' he said, indicating the lake outside, as she kissed his cheek and set off downstairs.
The Baron was waiting for her in the lobby. He wore a long sheepskin coat and fur-lined boots. 'Charming,' he said. 'You look charming.'
Taking her arm he led her through a labyrinth of corridors, all beautifully decorated in coordinated shades of pastel peach with individually lit paintings on every wall. Some Stephanie recognised as being the work of Beckmann, Ernst and Marc; the others were equally modern and all by German artists.
They eventually arrived at a solid oak door. 'Here we are. Are you ready for your surprise?'
'Definitely.'
The Baron pushed the door open and stood aside for Stephanie to enter. She found herself in an enormous boathouse with a U-shaped concrete jetty which projected into the lake. At the far end two doors had been opened and Stephanie could see the vast expanse of the lake beyond.
Sitting in the water was not, as she'd expected, a fast sleek powerboat, but a perfect reproduction of a Roman slave galley. There was a square forecastle at the prow and an open pit divided by a gangway down the rest of its length. Sitting in the pit on each side of the gangway were six male slaves, their oars held vertically aloft. At the moment the slaves were shrouded with red blankets against the chill of the boathouse caused by the water.
The Baron ushered Stephanie up a small gangplank which led inside the forecastle. Here the period detail gave way to modern convenience. A large window allowed them to see down the length of the boat, and another overlooking the bow gave a view in the other direction. The interior was warm and comfortable; a Roman-style couch covered with silk cushions and an occasional table made up the only furniture.
As soon as they were seated Stephanie saw a modern powerboat nose into the boathouse. The driver took a line from the bow of the galley and began towing them out into the lake. He then cast the line off and the powerboat sped away; the forward momentum carried the galley further out into open water. An enormous black man wearing a leopard's skin across his incredibly muscular body then appeared, and walked down the central gangway, plucking the blankets off the slaves. They in turn pushed their oars through the large circular row locks in the side of the wooden hull. Apart from a leather harness, which was no more than two thick shoulder straps joined to straps across the chest and navel, the slaves were naked. Their wrists were chained to the oars, their ankles to the deck.
'Row,' the black man roared, his voice ringing out across the silence of the lake.
The twelve oars dipped into the water in unison and were pulled back hard. The galley picked up speed.
'In...' the slave-driver urged, '...out.'
It was obvious that the slaves were practised rowers. Their movements were precise and the boat moved quickly. Soon Stephanie could look back and see the whole of the fairytale castle, its towers rising against the background of the mountain beyond.
'Come out and have a closer look,' the Baron suggested.
He led the way through a small door out on to the gangway. The sun, now much higher in the sky, shone down fiercely, and some of the slaves were sweating from the considerable effort of pulling the large oars.
The slave-driver carried a long whip in his hand, its lash thinning at the tip. Stephanie saw its imprint on several of the slaves' backs and shoulders.
The fresh air against her face was exhilarating, and the warmth of the sun increased her sense of wellbeing. She stood at the aft of the boat, and watched the slaves toiling on the oars. The Baron certainly had a vivid imagination. But there was more to it than that, she thought. He had seen her penchant for authority and this was its ultimate expression: standing here on a boat driven on by sweating, naked men. They were all hers, all under her control, all doing this for her. It was as if the Baron had organised a graphic demonstration of exactly what it meant to be in her position, to be mistress of all she surveyed. She felt her body respond. It was thrilling.
They appeared to be heading for a small chalet on the far side of the lake. Back inside the cabin of the forecastle Stephanie sipped brandy from the Baron's silver flask and tried to make out the details of the building they were approaching. A plume of smoke rose from its chimney.
'Does this amuse you?' the Baron asked.
'It excites me. You knew it would, didn't you?'
'I thought it might, from what I saw of you at your castle, and last night. You are happiest, I think, when you are dominant.'
'So it appears.'
'Appears?'
'It wasn't always like that. I hadn't really found out about myself - sexually, that is. Then I met a man who, shall we say, took me on a journey through my own feelings.'
'Devlin?'
'No. Not Devlin. Devlin was later. If I'd met Devlin first I'd have been too frightened. But by the time I came to the castle with him I was ready. The first man created the raw material; Devlin refined it. Then I took control.'
'And kept it.'
'Yes. Though I hope I am still open to new experiences.'
'I hope so too,' the Baron said cryptically.
After a few more minutes' hard rowing the galley was steered up to a wooden jetty. The path from the jetty ran up to a chalet built in the traditional way with whole tree trunks. It looked as if it had been designed b
y the brothers Grimm, as did the castle, now far away on the other side of the water.
'Are you hungry?' the Baron asked as the gangplank from the forecastle was laid out. 'Lunch has been arranged.'
'Not yet,' Stephanie said, resisting his attempt to lead her ashore.
'There's a lovely ride along the shore from here. The horses and sledge—'
'No,' Stephanie interrupted. She had something else in mind. She brushed passed the Baron and walked down the central gangway looking at each of the sweating slaves in turn. A slave with curly blond hair caught her eye, and a short but muscular man whose brown hair had almost been shaved away.
'These two,' Stephanie said to the black overseer. 'Unchain them.'
The slave-driver looked at the Baron, who had followed Stephanie, to see if he were to obey.
'Do as she says. Bring them inside.'
Stephanie smiled broadly at the Baron. 'You don't mind a change of plans?'
He smiled back. 'Of course not.'
'Your plan worked.'
'What plan?'
'To excite me. And I'm not good at containing my excitement. Not with all these naked men around.'
'My dear, you must do whatever you want to do.'
'Thank you. Let's go inside.'
They walked down the gangplank and up a path to the chalet.
'I can see why Devlin enjoys being your slave,' the Baron said as they walked. 'You are very...'
'Demanding?' she suggested.
'Powerful.'
The front room of the chalet was warm and comfortable; a huge log fire blazed in the grate. A large mirror hung on one wall, and a big soft sofa stood in front of the fire, covered in a white fur rug.
The black overseer had shepherded the two slaves in behind them. They stood passively, side by side, stripped of their leather tops.
'I will leave you, my dear,' the Baron said. He turned to the slaves as Stephanie took off her coat and warmed herself by the fire. 'Obey everything without question or you will be put in the pit for a very long time.'
'What's the pit?' Stephanie asked.
'They know.' Smiling slightly he turned and left, taking the overseer with him.
Stephanie's Pleasure Page 14