She had been brought, blindfold and naked, to the room an hour after sunrise. Erica had made no mention of Mandy’s escape attempt – or the sequel of punishment and domination – as she led her stumbling captive down the carpeted stretch of the Long Gallery. They had turned abruptly to their left: Mandy knew at once that she was being shepherded into the lair of a dominant resident. Inside, having forced Mandy to kneel, Erica withdrew.
The sounds of sucking filled the air: of lips devouring juicy flesh. Grapefruit, Mandy decided, decoding the noise. She would have to remain kneeling patiently while the dominant devoured her late breakfast. Mandy strained to catch the sounds of the breakfast table, the chink of a coffee cup, the scrape of a buttered knife across golden toast. Only the sound of the fierce sucking greeted her efforts. Mandy felt uneasy, hating the blindfold at her eyes.
She decided to risk a quick peep. If detected, it would only earn her a stripe or two across her bare buttocks. Clenching her cheeks expectantly against the sudden lash, she pretended to draw her hand back through her hair, surreptitiously lifting the blindfold a fraction as she did so.
Two naked beauties, locked into a soixante-neuf, lay curled up on the carpet before her. The sucking intensified as both mouths worked hungrily: not at the moist pulp of breakfast grapefruit as Mandy had supposed, but at the more succulent flesh of wet labia. The blindfold had only been inched up for a split second, but Mandy had captured the scene before her in its entirety. It remained etched vividly on her retina: the curled, naked women; the embracing, sinuous limbs; the hot eyes drowning in lust; the delicious blonde curls tossed in abandon and, above all, the fact that the two naked women were identical twins.
The sucking became more frenzied. Gasps and smothered moans filled the air. Mandy felt her own slit prickle with interest as the carnal feasting came to a climax. From the sounds that followed, she sensed that the couple were now stretched out on the carpet, momentarily spent and sated.
‘Take off your blindfold.’
The voice was Nordic. Finnish, Mandy thought. It had a peculiar sing-song lilt, the tone sinewed with a metallic crispness. Whatever its origin, Mandy knew that it was the voice of an accomplished disciplinarian and dominatrix.
‘Quickly.’
Mandy obeyed, her bosom rising as she raised her hands to untie the blindfold, then bouncing softly as her fingers fumbled at the knot. The scene that greeted her gaze was unsettling. Two naked thirty-year-olds, severe and unsmiling, were standing hip to hip, thigh to soft thigh. They stared down at Mandy, devouring her kneeling body with hungry eyes. Mandy gazed up shyly, secretly astounded at how similar they were. Never before had she seen twins so utterly identical: and their nakedness emphasised the likeness. She marvelled at the untamed, tumbling blonde curls, the ice-blue eyes, the slender shoulders, the heavy breasts and tapered hips. It was exactly as if there were one deliciously dominant nude standing next to a long mirror – but then Mandy spotted the difference: one nude was shaven at the pubis, the other sported a bush of golden fuzz.
Mandy raised her left hand up to her ear lobe and tugged at it nervously. The twins advanced, their thighs brushing gently, their heavy bosoms bobbing. They trod the carpet with naked feet, their silent footfalls loud with exquisite menace. Mandy, kneeling, suddenly found her lips three inches from the shaven pubis. Her mouth went dry. The pulse at her throat gathered momentum, becoming deep and rapid.
‘Lick me. I want you to lick me,’ came the lilting command.
Mandy pressed her warm lips against the delta, parted them and flickered her tongue out. The flesh was soft and sweet, like probing a ripe damson. Working her tongue cautiously, she teased the pink clitoris.
‘Harder. You can do better than that. Or be made to do better.’
Redoubling her efforts, Mandy lapped feverishly, knowing that, if she failed to please, the cane or crop would surely fall down across her bare bottom.
‘Faster,’ came the stern injunction.
Mandy closed her eyes and tongued the sweet flesh furiously. To her alarm, the other twin stalked around behind her and straddled Mandy’s shoulders with warm, wide buttocks. Mandy flinched from the graze of pubic fuzz at the nape of her bowed neck, but the delta kissed her skin firmly as, above, the twins embraced and kissed. Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw the delicious swell of the breasts, nipples peaked, of the shaven twin. The naked blondes kissed passionately, and the rounded bosoms bounced, as Mandy’s wet, muscled tongue probed deeper and deeper.
The dominant being tongued gave Mandy crisp commands. When doing so, the shaven nude spoke distinctly in almost perfect English. Between themselves, they chattered rapidly, their clicking consonants and terse vowels alien to Mandy’s ear. Icelandic, she decided eventually.
They spanked her next. It was, at the beginning, a playful bout of erotic dominance in which they imprinted their authority with smooth palms across Mandy’s quivering cheeks. She was arranged across the thighs of the shaven twin and trapped into the punishment position: one slender hand at her neck, one slender leg trapping and controlling her thighs. Before the slaps rained down, a flattened palm had circled her naked cheeks firmly, exploring every inch of the helpless, supple flesh. Mandy tightened her buttocks as the palm curved, expertly moulding itself to the swell of her cheeks. A dominant finger – whose, she did not know – traced the outline of each peach-cheek before settling halfway down the crease of her cleft at her anal whorl.
Mandy inched her bottom up, unashamedly relishing the imperious fingertip. Deep in her cleft, her rosebud grew warm and sticky. Aroused, she was now impatient for the stinging caress of the spanking hand across her upturned cheeks. The dominant twins were in no hurry. They inspected Mandy’s vulnerable nakedness intimately, dimpling the crowns of her creamy flesh-mounds with squeezed fingertips while working their thumbs at her sphincter.
The suspense made Mandy’s belly coil up like a tightened spring. She wriggled across the naked thighs, wobbling her cheeks invitingly, but they did not succumb, choosing instead to maintain their absolute dominance and total control. Mandy writhed under their reign of supremacy, and struggled to provoke the punishment she had dreaded, but now desired.
The shaven blonde swept her hand across the soft curve of both cheeks. Palm upward, she dragged her knuckles across each heavy buttock, then knuckled the cleft, spreading the cheeks apart. The second twin lowered her face down. Mandy could feel the warm breath at her sphincter, and the controlling hand at her neck tightening. Mandy clenched her buttocks in self-protection, but the tongue dipped down to taste the flesh splayed apart by the knuckled hand.
Mandy threshed, squealing and protesting, as the unshaven twin knelt firmly against her, burying her entire face into the softness of her bottom. Soon the lapping, then the probing, became unbearable. Mandy felt her inner muscles spasm as the thick tongue explored the length of her velvety cleft.
The spanking followed immediately. Across the thighs of the more dominant twin, Mandy sweetly suffered three and a half minutes of severe, intimate punishment. The sharp staccato of spanks echoed around the room as the chastised cheeks bounced and slowly turned pink, then crimson, then scarlet.
Mandy ground her wet slit across the supporting thighs over which she was spread and pinioned. Delighting in the discipline, she surrendered her bare bottom to the blonde. The spanking ceased, for the moment. With maddening politeness, the dominatrix relinquished her ownership of the hot cheeks and offered Mandy’s buttocks to her twin to chastise. The kneeling blonde, who had tongued Mandy so expertly, accepted the offer and spanked Mandy harshly. Mandy bucked and squirmed, the climax welling up within her now imminent – only a few sharp spanks away.
The spanks did not come. Suddenly, Mandy felt the heavy bosom of the shaven nude, over whose lap she was stretched, crush down and pin the other twin’s hand to the cheeks she had just punished with her palm. The trapped hand slowly slid out from beneath the breasts, leaving the deliciously warm weight nestling dominantly on the spanked cheeks. Mandy cried out with raw pleasure as the fiercely peaked nipples burned into the satin skin of her buttocks – then whimpered as her orgasm spilled out in spasms of gentle violence.
With the bare breasts dominating her spanked bottom, Mandy came. As she paroxysmed, the kneeling twin fingered two slits: Mandy’s and her own wet crease, probing each tightened flesh in rhythmic unison. Rocketing into a fresh orgasm, Mandy moaned long and loud. The nude twins remained cool, silent and seemingly aloof, their very indifference fuelling Mandy’s renewed climax.
Iceland: the home of volcanic steam, boiling lava and frosted ice. They came from the land of glacial fire, embodying the eternally frozen inferno. This knowledge, and the knowledge of their self-control, burned with a sweet heat in Mandy’s brain, torching a third, then a fourth orgasm. Control and domination, she had discovered, were sweet, but to be so hot, punished and naked, to be so stickily aroused and so urgently kindled by the lips, tongues and hands of these identical ice-maidens was sweeter still – the sweetest surrender and submission she had ever known or imagined.
Leaving her curled up on the carpet, they withdrew, pausing to sip vodka and champagne cocktails from a single, fluted glass. The shaven twin took the ice cube from the cocktail and plied her labia with it, rubbing the smiling flesh-lips with firm, downward strokes. Taking the red cherry out, she sucked on it hard then thumbed it into her flesh just below the clitoris. Kneeling, her twin plucked out the glistening cherry between her teeth. Mandy shuddered as she watched the teeth slice the cherry in half, and shuddered again as the two pieces of cherry disappeared into the naked blonde’s mouth.
Mandy, now kneeling on the carpet, was studiously ignored. She ached with resentment, eager for their acknowledgement and chaffing at their indifference. Momentarily exiled from their erotic realm, she desired to be readmitted – on almost any terms imaginable.
Abandoning the cocktail, the twins returned to where Mandy knelt, encircling her with soundless footsteps. The dominant twin stood, legs astride, in front of Mandy, while her twin knelt down behind: Mandy shivered at the rasp of the pubic curls against her recently spanked, and still sore, bottom. Cupping Mandy’s breasts, the kneeling twin held them in a squeezing, vice-like grip. Mandy thrilled to the sensation of her nipples thickening into the controlling palms. Pulling her captive backwards, the twin pulled Mandy down on to the carpet. Swiftly mounting, the unshaven twin lowered her fleshy buttocks down on to Mandy’s upturned face. The soft warmth of the descending bottom squashed and smothered Mandy for a brief moment, a brief moment in which sight and breathing were denied, a brief moment of exquisite torment and delight. Shuffling slightly, the twin eased her buttocks slightly, allowing her victim to breathe.
Mandy gulped for air, her hands pawing at the carpet as the scissoring thighs tightened their grip, trapping and controlling her torso and rendering her immobile. The heavy cheeks pressing into her face rose a fraction as her tormentress leant forward and threaded her arms beneath Mandy’s knees. Then the plump rump settled firmly down again as the arms gathered up Mandy’s legs and dragged them up from the carpet. Once her legs were raised up, strong hands parted them at the thighs, exposing her wet fig. Mandy could not see, but could both sense and then feel, the presence of the other twin, the shaven vixen, kneeling down at her exposed delta. The unseen mouth closed on her, lips and tongue busy at her slit. Mandy struggled, but to no avail. The devilish twins were determined in their enjoyment of her: one pinning her down contemptuously with her bare bottom, the other mouthing her splayed labia with absolute impunity.
The tongue at her slit lapped slowly, luxuriously, at first. Then the rasping became more urgent. Soon the thick muscle was probing. Mandy felt its firmness inside her, the angle of approach affording deep penetration. Her squeals were muffled by the soft flesh of the buttocks on her face. As the tongue explored her inner, most secret flesh, the buttocks above commenced a rhythmic joggling. Cruel hands grasped and squeezed her breasts once more, punishing and pleasuring the helpless flesh-mounds and tormenting her nipples up into peaks of fire. Above her face, the swollen cheeks were riding her ruthlessly, the heavy flesh raking her mouth so that Mandy could taste the bitterness of the hot cleft. With a cunning dexterity, the rider managed to drag her slit across Mandy’s mouth with each thrusting sweep and backward jerk of the hips.
‘Tongue her.’
The command came from the twin mouthing Mandy’s labial flesh, not the naked twin who was to be tongued.
Mandy’s tongue protruded, thrusting up into the acrid cleft, the tip just touching the rosebud sphincter.
‘No, not there,’ the twin cried, wriggling her bottom. ‘There,’ she hissed, lowering her gaping flesh-folds down on to Mandy’s mouth. ‘There.’
Perched above her victim, the unshaven nude planted her hot slit over Mandy’s tongue just as the other twin’s tongue at Mandy’s own slit started to trigger a climax.
The three naked women were briefly frozen in their frenzied lust. Fusing hot flesh to hotter flesh, they quivered as violent orgasms raked their nakedness. Mandy screamed into the buttocks above, biting them in her passionate paroxysms, as the tongue at her opened furnace stoked fresh flames. Driven into the fury of her climax, Mandy tongued the sweet flesh above with renewed vigour and violence. The naked rider gripped her mount and ground her slit down, coming furiously on to Mandy’s shining, slippery face. Mandy sensed the weight of the buttocks above shifting as her tormentress knelt up, and felt the tongue at her slit withdraw as the shaven dominatrix also knelt. In mute understanding, the blonde twins were now locked in a deep French kiss above her pinioned, helpless nakedness.
The dildo, they informed her, both fingering its length in harmony, was carved from an Icelandic walrus tusk. It was over two hundred years old, the cherished relic of initiation rites performed in the long, dark nights before spring came to melt the ice that bound the iron land. Mandy saw that the gleaming curve of ivory was etched with runic inscriptions: an unholy pagan prayer dedicated to the goddess of ice-fire. Mandy quailed at its sinuous, wicked length, clamping her thighs and clenching her buttocks at the very thought of its penetration. The twins perceived her token resistance and exchanged slow, knowing smiles.
Tied to the bed, her arms and legs splayed and secured at the wrists and ankles to the wooden posts, Mandy gazed up fearfully. Kneeling in silence at either side of her bed of bondage, the nudes played with their ivory shaft, probing one another’s mouth with its blunt tip. Mandy had been gagged tightly with a cruel band of crimson serge. Above it, her eyes were wide with fearful apprehension. She shook her head from side to side vigorously, signalling her unwillingness. To her relief, both twins gazed down at her, nodding their understanding.
‘Not until you plead with us,’ the shaven dominatrix murmured. ‘Not until you beg us,’ she added in a curdling whisper.
Mandy heaved a sigh of relief, certain in the knowledge that she would never want – or whimper for – the dildo.
‘But you will,’ the whispering voice continued, as if the naked blonde had been reading Mandy’s troubled mind.
They removed the tight gag and, hands entwined tenderly around the ivory shaft, fingers interlocking in carnal unison, the twins guided the phallus to Mandy’s mouth, using it on her lips like a lipstick. Denying what seemed to be self-betrayal, Mandy found herself opening her lips wide as if eager for the blunt tip inside her mouth. It slid in, probing her wet warmth. She tightened her lips around its cool length, sucking gently at first, then with a fierce desire to possess. Inside her, it teased the roof of her mouth, then dominantly flattened and tamed her tongue. It was intimately erotic, and Mandy juiced down at her hot slit. The twins, eyes darting down to note her involuntary response and reaction, played with the dildo for several more minutes, plying it into her mouth until the patches of sheet beneath Mandy’s parted thighs was stained dark with her wet ooze. Then, hands still wrapped around the dildo, they guided it slowly, teasingly, down over her chin, against the arch of her straining neck to her breasts below.
The hard tip of the ivory shaft traced the soft contours of her naked bosom with exquisite delicacy, delighting her silken flesh as it faithfully fingered its passive swell. The tip addressed each nipple in turn, tapping each tiny pink bud up into pale-purple peaks of fierce pleasure. Mandy writhed, the bondage at her wrists and ankles burning into her bound flesh. At her pouting labia, the sparkling ooze of her arousal widened the spreading stain. The gag was firmly replaced, the crimson serge biting into her mute mouth, renewing her sense of utter helplessness – a helplessness as absolute as her capitulation and desire for the dildo.
Mandy struggled to resist her innermost yearnings, stunned at the possibility of her submitting eagerly to the shaft. Taking her breasts, one in a left hand, the second in the other kneeling twin’s right hand, they nosed the dildo down along the swell of her hip, across her flattened, tense belly and across to her upper, outer thigh. Mandy jerked as the blunt tip dimpled her soft flesh. Riding her dominantly, it descended into, then against, her ultra-sensitive inner thigh. Mandy squealed as the solid weight of the phallus scored her satin flesh just above her right knee. Slowly, with maddeningly tantalising circular sweeps, it inched back up towards the hot pulse of her open slit. She jerked her hips and pounded her buttocks as her splayed thighs were ruthlessly teased, her mind no longer certain that it would be able to deny what her aching body desired: the thrust of the dildo inside her tight warmth.
It inched up a fraction closer, and then a fraction more, the clasped hands nudging the tip up to kiss-tease her tiny, erect clitoris.
With a supreme effort, Mandy shook her head. No. No. She mouthed her protest into the wet gag, still denying her desire for the dildo. Ignoring her totally, the guiding hands at the ivory shaft directed it to finger her wet labia with firm, downward strokes. At each stroke, the cunning hands swiftly speared the shaft up along the crease of her cleft, briefly forcing the firm length between her tightly clenched cheeks.
The delicious torture lasted for a full eight minutes. Mandy’s aching body burned with the effort of her denial but burned more fiercely with the seething flame of desire. Suddenly, the spasms inside her told her – and told the predatory eyes of the watching twins – that she was rapidly approaching the point of no return. Her orgasm would be soon; her climax was imminent.
Gasping audibly, she nodded, signalling her readiness for the cruel shaft. Further denial and resistance was useless: they had smashed her resolve completely and broken her spirit. They had crushed her rebellion, and bent her mind and body to their lustful will using the dark skills of erotic prowess and the spells of sexual witchcraft. Shuddering, she submitted and surrendered, closing her eyes and expecting the blunt thrust.
It did not occur. Opening her eyes, she stared up in bewildered frustration to see the bottom of the unshaven twin hovering above the bed, the plump cheeks held apart to receive the probing dildo. Pumping the phallus deep into her twin’s anus, the shaven nude guided the shaft into the tight sphincter. Mandy threshed in her fury and confusion, and threshed with renewed violence as she felt the drip, drip of the hot juices splashing down on to her breasts from the weeping slit of the speared twin.
She heard their harsh laughter and then the taunting words of the dominatrix.
‘We made you want it, no? But you cannot have it. Not even if you beg. It is sweet, is it not, to light the flames of desire and then douse them with denial. Yes,’ the alien voice from the land of fire and ice reflected aloud, ‘it is sweet.’
For Mandy, her capitulation tasted as sour as her subsequent humiliation: sour and bitter.
Mandy stirred fretfully in her sleep. Exhausted after her ordeal at the cruel hands of the sadistic twins, she had showered, and then slumped on to her bed. Her dreams had been troubling, forcing her to relive her earlier humiliations and erotic torments. In her dreams, she heard again the alien accents of the Icelandic blondes, giggling at her distress and plotting further humiliations as they examined her bare body for further dark pleasure. Mandy moaned softly and turned over in her sleep.
Into her sleeping brain came other remembered voices, murmuring softly. Mandy tossed and turned, tormented by the sound of Erica and Celia. Then she awoke abruptly, and sat up. At the foot of her bed, the phantoms from her dreams were solidly fleshed: Erica and Celia stood gazing down at her. Mandy rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then shrank back, pulling the sheet up to cover her naked breasts.
‘The mistress has been informed of your escape attempt, girl. She is, as I warned you, most displeased. You are to be whipped soundly.’
Betrayed. Mandy burned with resentment, hating Erica for tricking her into compliance and submission – and hating herself for being so easily duped.
‘Get up,’ Erica rasped, snatching the sheet away.
Mandy rose and stood by her bed, shivering and angry. The solicitor narrowed her grey eyes as she inspected Mandy’s naked body. Mandy shielded her breasts protectively against the stern gaze.
‘Turn around,’ Erica commanded.
Mandy reluctantly turned, presenting her bare bottom for their examination.
‘It’s a superb bottom, isn’t it?’ Erica simpered. ‘Are you sure you won’t whip it?’
Mandy blushed furiously as they bantered over her impending stripes. She heard them discussing the merits of both the strap and the cane.
‘As long as she suffers, I will be satisfied,’ Celia Flaxstone remarked. ‘I have more important fish to fry.’
‘They are coming tonight, your buyers?’
Mandy did not hear the reply: the solicitor must have merely nodded. Buyers. Mandy tugged her ear pensively. Who could they be and what were they hoping to buy?
‘Turn around, girl,’ Celia said softly.
Mandy obeyed. The solicitor stared at her intently, then gasped as she spotted Mandy’s blonde pubic tuft.
‘Mandy?’ the solicitor mused. ‘Amanda. You are Amanda Silk, aren’t you?’ she demanded in a tone that needed no reply. ‘You are, aren’t you, you little bitch.’ The tone was one of anger, though still tinged with the amazement of its own discovery.
Mandy gazed back steadily into the grey eyes.
‘Who is Amanda Silk?’ Erica demanded, puzzled.
Heads together, they stood at the foot of the bed in a huddled whispering. Twice, Erica looked up, flashing Mandy ominous glances. Mandy felt the tension mounting at her chest and throat. Although she had every right to be here – she owned Sternwood Grange – she felt vulnerable and apprehensive. There were two of them, fully dressed: she was naked and alone.
‘Partridge brought her in, gave her shelter and work,’ Erica whispered fiercely.
‘Partridge will pay dearly for her final mistake in my employ,’ Mandy overheard the solicitor reply vehemently.
They turned from their whispered conference and approached Mandy. ‘What do you think you are doing?’ the solicitor snapped.
‘Getting dressed,’ Mandy replied, hoping that her attempt at nonchalance disguised her hammering heartbeats.
‘Have you been given permission to do so?’
‘Don’t need it. I’ve seen all I need to see here. I’m getting dressed and going back –’
‘You’re going nowhere, Miss Silk, until I say so.’
‘You can’t –’
‘Take those panties off at once. Erica,’ Celia rasped.
Erica pounced obediently at her employer’s sharp command, wrestling Mandy expertly down on to the bed and jerking down the panties in one swift wrench. With a dominant flourish, her panties were tossed aside, leaving Mandy naked and helpless.
‘You have caused me a great deal of trouble, Miss Silk, vanishing from London with so much to sort out and resolve. How did you learn of Sternwood Grange and what did you hope to achieve by coming here?’
Mandy played safe and remained silent.
‘I am selling Sternwood Grange tonight. You will remain –’
‘That’s not possible. I’ve seen the will. I inherited it. It’s mine, all mine. You –’ Mandy stopped, instantly regretting her foolish outburst: the pain she had just incautiously secured for that bare-bottomed receptionist in the Bird Cage Walk offices would be as nothing to the pain her own bottom might now suffer.
‘So,’ Celia purred. ‘You’ve seen the will, hmm? Inquisitive little bitch, aren’t you? Tie her to the bed, Erica. Tie her tightly, mind. We can’t have our little heiress wandering around at large tonight of all nights, can we?’
Mandy struggled but was soon overpowered, arranged across the bed and bound securely at the wrists to each bedpost.
‘You will assign your rights to Sternwood Grange to me.’
‘Never.’
‘Then you will have to be persuaded,’ the grey-eyed solicitor murmured, her tone cool and unruffled. ‘I will enter into brief negotiations with you, Miss Silk, of course, but please bear in mind that it is I who have the upper, dare I say, the whip hand?’
Erica giggled.
‘Cane her,’ Celia instructed. ‘Cane her slowly. I am going down to the office. On my laptop, I will draft a contract which you will sign, assigning all title deeds and outright claims to Sternwood Grange to me. Do you understand?’
‘Never,’ Mandy vowed. ‘I’ll fight you all the way. You’ll see –’
‘A very sore bottom when I return. A bottom which will suffer even more should you prove stupidly stubborn.’
‘How many strokes?’ Erica inquired eagerly. ‘A dozen?’
‘Do not bother counting. Punishment as persuasion must not be meanly measured. Cane her hard. And,’ Celia continued suavely, fingering Mandy’s passive cheeks dominantly, ‘I want you to try out the Indonesian bamboo I brought down with me from London. It should achieve the desired results. Twenty, thirty strokes, who cares? I want this little untidiness cleared up before my important visitors arrive this evening. There must be no impediment to the successful sale of Sternwood Grange.’
Celia Flaxstone watched as Erica slipped out to collect the cane. Bending down, she stretched her hand out and took a painful pincer of Mandy’s bare bottom between her finger and thumb. Twisting the captive flesh, she chuckled darkly. Mandy squealed aloud.
‘You make a worthy adversary, my dear Miss Silk. I rather think I underestimated you. First point to you, undoubtedly. Coming down here was a big risk. But a risk you have taken and lost. Game, set and match to me, I think. Ah, here is Erica with the cane. After a taste of this little persuader all the way from the rain-soaked forests of Indonesia, you will not only be willing to sign but eager to do so. Commence.’
The door closed on the retreating solicitor just as the first stroke of the cane whistled down to slice across Mandy’s upturned cheeks. A second withering stroke brought a torrent of abuse from Mandy’s lips. The tip of the cane came to rest, passive but potent, across the left buttock.
‘Silence,’ Erica demanded.
Mandy ignored this instruction and, wriggling in her tight bondage, shouted abusive scorn at her chastiser. Erica placed the cane reverently on the bed and clasped Mandy’s hair in both hands.
‘Silence, you stupid bitch,’ she hissed. Mandy twisted her head and snapped at Erica’s wrist, almost but not quite nipping at the flesh with her bared teeth.
‘So, the bitch bites?’ Erica laughed, then fished up a nylon stocking from the back of a bedside chair and bound it around Mandy’s mouth, gagging her victim tightly. ‘Now let’s hear you squeal.’
Picking up the cane, she took a half-pace back, judged the distance to the naked buttocks expertly and delivered three searing lashes in rapid succession. Mandy jerked and writhed, mouthing mute obscenities into the nylon gag.
‘My mistress has important clients coming. You must give your consent to the assignment of title deeds. This is only a taste of what you will suffer if you choose to refuse.’
The cane sparkled in the evening sunset as it swept down across the soft cheeks below, lashing into their satin swell to leave thin, reddening stripes. Mandy grunted into her gag. The nylon stocking at her lips was already dark with a wet stain where she mouthed it furiously. At the bedposts, above the bound wrists, her fingers splayed out in anguished response to every searing stroke.
Erica paused after nine swishing swipes, tapping the crimsoned cheeks warningly. ‘Give up whatever spurious claim you may think you have on Sternwood Grange and your suffering will cease. Don’t be a fool, Miss Silk.’ She dragged the tip of the wood across the curve of each punished buttock. Mandy jerked her hips and tossed her cheeks up in an effort to rid her scorched cheeks of the tormenting cane. It was a futile gesture, invoking swift retribution for her token rebellion: Erica responded immediately with two searching, scalding strokes after which she depressed the crowns of both cheeks with the levelled cane in a gesture of supreme control and total dominance.
‘You will sign,’ Erica snarled, raising the cane aloft. ‘No matter how long it takes to persuade you.’
Never, Mandy resolved. Never. She was determined to cling on to her rightful inheritance, no matter what the immediate pain might be. Resigning her bottom to its inevitable suffering, Mandy consoled herself with the fragile comfort that Sternwood Grange was legally hers.
The cane flashed down twice, striping her buttocks severely. Her buttocks seethed where the thin wood had bitten into her naked flesh, spreading a flame of fire across the quivering globes. Again, and then again, the choice Indonesian bamboo cracked down, visiting the defenceless cheeks with blistering kisses of exquisite agony. Erica paused once more, pacing the punishment with strict supremacy over the suffering buttocks. Pressing the cane sternly down into the striped cheeks, she counted the reddening lines across the creamy flesh aloud.
‘And that is only a fraction of what you will suffer,’ she whispered, dimpling the hot curves with the tip of her cane. ‘We’d better have a few more, hmm?’
Swish. Mandy jerked in writhing anguish as Erica plied the wood across an already existing stripe, turning the deep pink to a painful red. Swish. The next cut was equally severe and slicing. Swish. Again, the cruel wood lashed down, licking the bare bottom with a fiery tongue of flame.
The door opened and Sonia and Sophie, propelled by Celia Flaxstone behind them, stumbled into the bedroom. Erica promptly shouldered her cane in a salute to the mistress of Sternwood Grange.
‘I think she is ready to sign,’ Erica gushed. ‘The bamboo has spoken.’
‘It has a very persuasive voice, but Miss Silk may prove to be stubborn. Will you sign?’
Mandy shook her head. Sophie and the minx stared in fear at the stripes across her bottom.
‘Very well, then the cane must speak again.’
Levelling her cane, and flexing her supple wrist, Erica took a pace towards the bed.
‘But across different cheeks,’ Celia purred. ‘Sophie and little Sonia have come to relieve you of any personal discomfort, Miss Silk. They will bare their bottoms and your stripes until you decide to change your mind and sign.’
Despite her bondage, Mandy managed to twist her head around. She saw the two naked girls being ordered to touch their toes.
‘They will suffer twenty strokes between them, and then another dozen each, leaving you perfectly free to make up your mind. I shan’t hurry you, Miss Silk. It is entirely for you to decide. Cane them,’ she instructed. ‘Cane them hard.’
Erica swished the cane down across Sophie’s bottom. Mandy heard the bamboo slice into the upturned cheeks. The next stroke swept across Sonia’s pert buttocks. Mandy heard the minx squeal and stagger forward.
‘No. Stop. No,’ Mandy shouted into her strict gag. They must not suffer, they must not be punished. But her pleading went unheard. Mandy strained again to peer over her shoulder. She glimpsed Sophie, a reddening weal across her rump, shivering as she tensed herself for the next stripe. Beside her, her naked bottom poised for punishment, the minx trembled under the shadow of the hovering bamboo.
‘Excellent. Give them six apiece,’ Celia instructed. Folding the draft agreements – there were two copies – across her heavy bosom, the solicitor sat down on the bed alongside Mandy’s ravished cheeks. Settling down comfortably, her thigh grazing Mandy’s with unexpected intimacy, she started to palm Mandy’s bottom soothingly as the cane swished down across Sophie’s poised cheeks.
Sophie grunted twice under the bamboo, but Sonia squealed aloud. Mandy flinched at each sorrowful sob – and flinched again at the dominant hand caressing her own scalded cheeks. Erica sliced the Indonesian cane down across Sonia’s upturned buttocks again, and again, until the first six strokes prescribed by Celia had been ruthlessly administered.
‘Another dozen, each?’ Erica asked, expectantly.
‘Yes,’ Celia consented. ‘Wait,’ she added softly, as the cane was raised above the whipped cheeks. ‘Will you sign now, or must they suffer more?’ she asked, fingering Mandy’s bottom firmly.
Sophie was silent but Mandy heard Sonia’s sniffling half-sobs and knew in her heart that she could not put the wretched little minx through any more sorrow. It was not fair, and it was not worth it. Sophie had a generous spirit despite her jealous streak and the minx had been loyal – and a loving little playmate. Whatever she was in danger of losing, Mandy was not prepared to sacrifice such affection.
Mistaking Mandy’s silence for a possible refusal, the grey-eyed solicitor played her trump card. ‘Read it carefully,’ she urged, turning to page three of one copy of the closely typed agreement and holding it out in front of Mandy’s face. Intuitively realising Mandy’s concern for Sonia, she ordered Sophie out of the room. The minx remained, trembling as she strained to touch her toes, her striped buttocks perfectly presented for punishment.
‘You get a one-off, non-repeatable payment of twenty thousand pounds. Sign, and the money is yours. You will be free to go tomorrow.’
‘Don’t,’ Sonia blurted out. ‘Whatever it is, don’t do it –’ Her words were silenced, cut short by a brutal slice of the cane.
‘Sign,’ hissed the solicitor. ‘Sign, and we will consider the matter settled once and for all.’
Mandy nodded.
Gagged still, but with her right hand untied and given a pen, Mandy signed and dated both copies. Satisfied, Celia gathered up her copy of the agreement and tossed Mandy’s down on to the bed.
‘My visitors are due shortly. I must be there to receive them. Tie the other one to the bed, Erica. We’ll see to them later. And there is Partridge to punish, don’t forget. We shall put on a bit of a show for the prospective purchasers. Let them see Sternwood Grange at its best.’
Sonia joined Mandy, face down, on the bed, and was tightly bound. Celia and Erica departed, closing and locking the door behind them. In the silence, Mandy heard Sonia weeping gently. She inched her soft nakedness closer to the little minx to comfort and console her.
Sonia gulped and twisted her face sideways. ‘What did they force you to sign?’
Startled, Mandy turned to find that Sonia was not gagged as she had supposed. Her blue eyes widened hopefully. The sight of Sonia’s wide mouth, and white teeth, filled her mind with a riot of possibilities.
‘Was it to do with this place? Sternwood Grange?’
Mandy nodded vigorously, wishing Sonia would use her teeth to undo the gag around her own mouth.
‘A sort of secrecy clause?’
Maddened by the questions, Mandy shook her head. Her blue eyes implored Sonia to work on the gag.
‘But the money,’ Sonia chattered on imperviously. ‘You’ve been given a lot of money, Mandy. Would it have been more if they hadn’t been caning me? You wouldn’t have signed,’ she added in a guilty rush. ‘It’s my fault, isn’t it?’
Exasperated by her gag – and the minx’s endless questioning – Mandy writhed fruitlessly in her bondage. She ceased her struggling as Sonia twisted across and planted deep, devotional kisses on her shoulder. Relishing the velvety brush of lips against her aching flesh, Mandy suddenly laughed into her gag. If only Sonia was a bit brighter, she giggled to herself, they could be free.
‘Oh, look,’ Sonia gasped, reading the contract. ‘It says that you, blah blah on this day blah blah, Amanda Silk …’ She muttered the next three lines.
Mandy screamed silently, letting go of her pent-up frustration. The means to freedom were only inches away, but the minx was now using her mouth to turn over the first page of the agreement.
‘You own Sternwood Grange?’ Sonia suddenly squeaked, her voice thrilling with excitement.
Not any more, Mandy sighed silently. There was another pause.
‘Mandy,’ Sonia whispered urgently.
Mandy grunted into her gag.
‘It doesn’t actually say anything anywhere here about giving you any money.’
Mandy stiffened in alarm. No, it was a mistake. The little fool was reading the wrong page. Mandy had seen it in black and white.
‘I hereby grant unreservedly and absolutely blah blah …’ Sonia rattled on breathlessly. ‘Look. See for yourself. Was it on page one?’
Mandy shook her head.
‘Page two?’
Again, Mandy tossed her head impatiently.
‘Then read page three,’ the minx grunted, squashing her breasts into the bed as she turned the page with her tongue and then, picking up the agreement between her teeth, placed it down where Mandy could just manage to read it.
Mandy’s eyes burned into the paragraph which had promised the one-off payment. The original, now with Celia Flaxstone, had expressed the terms clearly in both words and figures. No such agreement to pay was contained in her copy. Mandy closed her eyes. She had been duped by the clever solicitor, duped into signing over her inheritance. Her rightful legacy was about to be sold. And Mandy, naked, bound and helpless, could do nothing.