Stephanie's Castle (8 page)

She realised
that Bruno was still standing by the cell door, impassively
watching all that had happened. With a gesture from Devlin he
unlocked Dolly's ankle chain and led her away, no doubt to be
showered. Devlin sat on the wooden bed.

'Only you
could have done that to me,' he said quietly.

'I know,' she
replied with absolute confidence.

Upstairs it
felt hot. Devlin had gone off to take a telephone call somewhere in
the depths of the castle, leaving Stephanie on the terrace where
they had breakfasted. She sat on one of the loungers sipping what
had become the accustomed champagne, and debated whether to go and
change into her bikini to take advantage of the sun. The Italian
sun had almost reached its zenith but a cooling breeze from the
lake made the temperature tolerable. For the time being Stephanie
was content to relax, enjoy the magnificent panorama laid out in
front of her and wait for Devlin to return.

The Devlin who
finally came back on to the terrace was a very different man from
the one who, happy, buoyant and relaxed, had left Stephanie some
half an hour before. This Devlin suddenly looked old and tired, the
worries of the world settled on to his shoulders. He tramped across
the terrace, his whole demeanour suggesting his anxiety.

'What on
earth's the matter?' Stephanie asked, genuinely concerned.

'I'm afraid
something has come up. Business. I've got to go to the mainland
right away. I'm sorry...'

'Anything I
can do?'

'No, no...'
Though his eyes were looking at her she could see his mind was
somewhere else entirely. 'When will you be back?'

'Probably
after lunch. I'm sorry. It's unavoidable.'

'Don't worry
about me. I'll sunbathe. It's so hot.'

'If you want
lunch, they'll bring you anything you want.'

'Thank
you.'

'And make
yourself at home. There are no locked doors for you.' He looked
reluctant to leave her.

'Devlin, go.
I'll be fine. There are no more secrets, are there?'

'No. You've
seen it all.' Devlin smiled weakly but the worried frown soon
returned. 'If you want Bruno, dial 5 on the phone.'

'And I don't
expect him to say hello, right?'

This time he
did not manage a smile. She saw one of the servants waiting with a
large briefcase as Devlin shuffled off, clearly totally absorbed in
whatever problem had suddenly cast a shadow across his world.
Surely, Stephanie thought, with such obvious wealth, it could be
nothing too disastrous.

She watched
from the terrace as Devlin climbed aboard the motorboat and turned
round to see if she was still on the terrace. He waved distractedly
when he saw her and she waved back as the boat pulled away from the
jetty, then sped over the almost still waters of the lake, leaving
a foaming white wake.

One of the
servants poured her a glass of champagne. She had never drunk so
much champagne in her life and it felt good. It was, she decided,
her favourite drink. The maximum of intoxication with the minimum
of alcohol, though she would have been intoxicated enough without
any. The secrets of the castle were revealed. Most of the questions
answered. She remembered that she had not asked Devlin about
Venetia and made a mental note to do so when he returned.

Taking her
champagne she sat on one of the loungers in the full sun, feeling
the sun on her face. In the distance she could still hear the faint
roar of the motorboat's engines carrying Devlin to the mainland.
What the problem was she could not imagine but, to be honest with
herself, she was glad of the chance to be on her own and let her
mind digest what was happening to her. She thought of going up to
her room and lying in the sun on her terrace, as she wasn't yet
ready for lunch, but for the moment she had no inclination to
move.

As she lay
with her eyes closed against the sunlight she let her mind wander
back to the cellar and its occupants. Remembering the feelings she
had felt as she lay on her back drowning in Dolly's flesh, she
could not help an involuntary shiver of pleasure. She got up and
walked into the house, telling the servants she'd have lunch in an
hour. But as she walked to the staircase and mounted the first few
steps she stopped, reversed her direction and headed instead for
the small wooden door hidden behind the tapestry drape. The cellar
was pulling her back. She had felt the same with the masked man on
the plane, a force like a magnet, invisible, but impossible to
resist. She wanted more, though more of what specifically she had
no idea. More of something.

The cellar
door had been left unlocked. Was that Devlin anticipating her
needs? She grasped the rope at the side of the stone steps and
walked down into the dimly lit cellars. She wondered, as she rapped
twice on the door to the cells, whether Bruno would let her in on
her own, but when the door swung open he seemed almost to be
expecting her and stood aside immediately to let her in.

She said
nothing to him and walked up and down the corridor looking into the
cells more carefully this time. One of the women, a tall blonde
beauty with long hair and long slender legs, particularly caught
her eye. Stephanie noticed thin red marks on the top of her thighs
and imagined she had been whipped. Of all the slaves this woman
looked the most discontented. But Stephanie did not feel in the
mood for a challenge or another lesbian experience. As she
contemplated the tall blonde she realised that what she actually
wanted was cock. She wanted to be fucked. That was what she had
missed this morning. She wanted a hot live cock deep inside her
cunt. As she thought about it the need grew and became urgent.

There was no
way to compare the cocks of the male slaves, as they all wore the
hard leather pouches. She would have to go on general appearance
and hope for the best. She could, of course, have Bruno strip the
pouches off but that would have taken too long and she was in a
hurry. In the second cell was a stocky, hairless and reasonably
attractive man in his late thirties. He had a good firm body and
short dark hair with an alert and open face.

'Number two,'
she ordered. Bruno opened the cell without question.

The man assumed the position she had seen Dolly adopt with
Devlin, kneeling with his head down. Stephanie went over to him and
stroked his hair gently, very much as Devlin had with Dolly. He did
not look up, and she took his chin in her hand and forced his head
up so he had to look into her eyes. His name-tag read:
Adam
. She could not tell
what was in his mind, whether it was fear or anticipation or
disinterest. Whatever it was she suddenly laughed out loud. She
continued to laugh as she took her dress off for the second time
this morning.

Bruno still
stood in the doorway of the cell. Stephanie considered sending him
away but decided against it. There was no point. In fact, the short
riding crop tucked into the belt of his tunic had given her an
idea, an idea that excited her more than she would have imagined
possible after this morning's activities. She removed her bra and
saw that her nipples were already hard. It was as though she had
saved them earlier, not wanting Dolly to finger them, so that they
would be fresh and alive now. She stripped off the stockings
wanting to be completely naked this time, and then stood in front
of the kneeling man.

'Pull my
knickers down,' she ordered.

He reached up
and found the waistband, pulling the french knickers down to her
ankles and she stepped out of them. He bowed his head again as
though he were not allowed to look at her naked body.

'Put your head
up again, Adam,' Stephanie said, allowing annoyance to enter her
voice. He obeyed at once. She stepped forward slightly and pushed
her pubis into his forehead, feeling its hard bone against her
fleshy mound. His mouth, in this position, was between her thighs
and she could feel his hot breath on her cunt. She pressed her
pubis into him rhythmically, as though she were fucking his
forehead.

'You're very
lucky, Adam. You're going to fuck me. A straightforward fuck,' she
lied.

She got on to
the bed, which was identical to the one she had lain on in the
other cell. For the second time that morning she lay on her back,
bent her knees and opened her legs. For the second time her cunt
felt incredibly hot and wet. She knew that a lot of her excitement
was in this power that Devlin had given her, this ability to
command whatever she desired. She had always been turned on by
words, had always wanted her lovers to talk to her and her to them,
always loved being told that she was going to be fucked or sucked
or buggered and now she realised that her voice - hard and strange
- issuing unequivocal orders was turning her on as much as anything
else.

She noticed
Bruno's eyes had not left her for a moment. 'Fuck me then,' she
said impatiently.

Adam stood up,
looking pathetically down at the hard leather pouch chained over
his genitals. Stephanie had forgotten about that.

'Get it off
him, Bruno. Quickly.'

Taking a key
Bruno roughly spun the man round and removed the little padlock
from the thin chains that held the pouch in place. Suddenly freed
from the constriction that had lasted for god knows how long,
Adam's cock sprang into a rigid erection.

'Come on,'
Stephanie said, wanting no further delays, the level of her arousal
increasing every moment.

The man did
not need further bidding. There was to be no foreplay. He fell on
Stephanie and in one movement his cock was buried inside her. It
was not the size of Devlin's of course, but it was good to feel the
base of a cock grinding up against her clitoris again, a feeling no
woman would ever achieve with Devlin. He was thrusting madly,
violently as though he hadn't had sex for weeks. Stephanie took his
hair in both her hands and held it tight. She moved her mouth to
his ear and whispered in the most menacing tone she could muster:
'Stop now.'

He obeyed
immediately, though she could feel his penis pulsing involuntarily
inside her.

'Bruno, use
your whip.' This was her idea. Bruno took the whip from his belt
and in one fluid, practised motion, striped it across the man's
buttocks. His penis bucked into Stephanie. Calling for the whip,
hearing herself saying those words, had brought her to the edge of
orgasm.

'Again,' she
ordered, holding herself back, wanting to stay on the edge and in
control and not be plunged into the abyss of a climax. Again the
whip came down and Adam's penis drove into her propelled forward
like a pile-driver. She ordered the whip again. His penis
bucked.

She clung to
his hair and screamed with pleasure as Bruno's strokes fell on
Adam's naked arse and she lost control, allowing herself her orgasm
and feeling it course through her body unleashed at last. How many
strokes landed before he came she did not know or care. But she
knew she was ready for his spunk and felt it jet out into her
seconds after the whip drove his cock into her again. She had never
felt spunk so hot. It felt like liquid fire. She heard herself
scream with pleasure as his spunk spurred her orgasm to a new
intensity.

It was minutes
before she realised she was still grasping his hair. She let go and
had to stop herself apologising as she could see it had brought
tears to his eyes. How silly to think of saying sorry, she scolded
herself. Why should she care? It was an attitude she intended to
get used to.

During the
aftermath of her orgasm Bruno must have left the cell, as he now
offered her a white towelling robe. She extracted herself from the
man and put in on. With a movement of his hand Bruno indicated that
she should follow him, which she did, not bothering to look back
into the cell as she left.

At the far end
of the corridor, opposite the entrance, was another stout wooden
door. This opened on to what looked like a conventional suite of
rooms, decorated with the same lavish style as the rest of the
castle, except, of course, for the absence of windows. Light was
provided by a series of tastefully arranged spotlights, big lamps
and by the lights illuminating every picture. The rooms had a
strange feeling, a feeling of secrecy and decadence.

Obviously
anticipating Stephanie's needs, Bruno showed her to a large marbled
bathroom. She showered and towelled herself dry on one of the large
stock of fresh white bath towels neatly folded on the heated towel
rails. As in her own room, the bathroom cabinet was stocked with
expensive toiletries and Stephanie selected a moisturiser and
anointed her body with it. The cool liquid felt good on her
skin.

Pulling on the
towelling robe again, Stephanie walked back into the corridor of
the suite. Bruno had gone. She wandered through the other rooms.
There were two large bedrooms, each with king-sized beds, one with
a mirror on the ceiling above the bed. Both rooms had televisions
and video recorders but there were no tapes that she could see.
Presumably this was where Devlin's 'friends' brought the slaves for
various sexual athletics, perhaps preferring not to be seen with
them above ground. Or perhaps their appetites could not wait to be
satisfied quickly once they had seen the opportunities laid before
them.

The remaining
room in the suite was less conventional. It had the same stone
walls and floor as the cellar outside and the lights were harsher
and brighter, though they could be dimmed. But it was what the room
contained that fascinated Stephanie. Months before, before her
affair with Martin, before sex meant anything more to her than
simple fucking, she had come across the first of many books, a book
on the more outré sexual dimensions. It had fascinated and
enthralled her. She had bought other books and read them all with
an equal relish. It was as though she had stumbled into a secret
world, a world that existed behind closed doors, a world she had
never suspected or dreamt of. But she had known that it was a world
she would, sooner or later, want to explore. And that had led to
her affair with Martin. Martin had shown her around that secret
world. It had scared her, she had to admit it, but it had also
thrilled her. It had given her sexual pleasure she would never have
dreamt possible.