The baron rolled over onto his back and covered his eyes with his right forearm. Even the small amount of light that was coming into the room seemed like too much. What he really wanted was another hour’s sleep, but since Cassandra had raised the subject herself he decided that it might be as well to tell her everything immediately.
‘Ring for some coffee and then we’ll talk,’ he murmured.
Cassandra reached for the bell-pull and in a couple of minutes Sophie appeared in their room. She was a small, dark-haired French girl, sturdily built with large breasts that fascinated many of their guests and also Peter, the manservant who had accompanied them from England.
This morning, dressed in her regulation black outfit with the obligatory frilly white apron and mob cap she bore no resemblance to the moaning, over-stimulated figure Cassandra remembered from the first night of the party, when many of the guests had decided to use her at the same time.
‘Coffee please, and croissants too I think,’ requested Cassandra.
Sophie, who was tired, was relieved that she wasn’t wanted by the couple for one of their more bizarre games. She bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried off to do Cassandra’s bidding.
‘A pity she wasn’t the one to break the jug,’ muttered the baron.
‘I think I would enjoy punishing her today. She has such a delicious relationship with the punishment chair.’
Cassandra, remembering that she had to deal with Monique’s transgression before the day was out, wondered if she should use the chair on the other maid. It was always effective, but had to be used sparingly. She tried to recall when Monique had last been forced to endure it, but her memory failed her and she made a mental note to look it up in her punishment book before she made her final decision.
Once Sophie had reappeared with the coffee and then had withdrawn, Cassandra broke a croissant in half, spread it liberally with the thick golden honey produced by their own bees and took a large bite. She was starving after the night’s activity and watching her lick at the drips that escaped from her mouth, the baron delighted in her appetite. Since coming to the chateau he had taught her how to savour everything more fully, from the full-bodied red wines of the surrounding area to the light, crisp dry whites; from the sweet, sticky honey she was eating now to the local speciality of crayfish cooked in wine. Above all, he’d continued to teach her how to take increasing sexual stimulation, to discipline her body and control her reactions until she was now sensually the most finely tuned woman he’d ever possessed. Yes, he mused, they hadn’t wasted their time in the Loire, but now was the moment for things to move on.
He propped himself up against the pillows and ran a hand down one of her bare arms. ‘While you were talking to Lara early this morning, Sir James and I were having an interesting discussion about his stepdaughter, Nicola,’ he said slowly.
Cassandra turned to look at him. ‘In what way, interesting?’ she asked casually, but inside she was tense. The excited gleam in his eyes, and the way his mouth was turning upwards at the corners were all signs that at last he had found some intriguing new diversion. She sensed that it could well put her position in jeopardy.
‘I’ll explain more fully,’ he murmured and as he recounted the conversation he had held with the Englishman Cassandra’s mouth went dry and she discarded the croissant, turning instead to a huge cup of bitter coffee for comfort.
‘So, you see,’ he concluded, ‘it will be a wonderful game!’
‘I’m not sure I understand exactly what you mean,’ she said.
He smiled, and a dimple appeared in his cheek, making him look young and boyish again. ‘I think you do, Cassandra! Imagine how exciting it will be to teach this innocent girl the unimaginable joys of the flesh. Just think of the pleasure to be obtained from tutoring an untried body until it learns not only how to take pleasure but also how to discipline itself in the process. Do you remember how you felt when you first joined my household?’ Cassandra nodded, a lump filling her throat at the memory. ‘Well, that is how it will be for Nicola, only more so because as I understand it she is completely untouched. Not even a clumsy husband has been near her!’
‘But the game?’
‘The game, my dear Cassandra, is that I expect you to assist me every step of the way. Together we will introduce her to everything we share here. She will learn to take pleasure from pain, the importance of discipline applied with affection and above all, we will show her how best to please me.’
‘When does the game end?’ asked Cassandra.
The baron’s naturally arched eyebrows were raised even higher. ‘It ends, my dear, when she has learnt all that there is to learn; when we have completed her sexual education and she is quite literally “finished”, as her father wishes.’
‘But that isn’t a game, it’s simply an entertainment, something to keep you – to keep both of us – busy. A game has a winner.’
He nodded and now the smile was gone, the dimple had disappeared. ‘There will be that too. Once Nicola is fully trained, once I think that you have truly done your best to pass on all the knowledge I’ve taught you, then she will be exquisite, don’t you think?’
Cassandra nodded, already guessing what was coming next.
‘So exquisite,’ he continued softly, ‘that I may well have difficulty in choosing who the winner is, but choose I must. After all, I can’t have two chatelaines here in the Loire, can I?’
‘You mean that you expect me to help you train a girl who might then take my place?’ asked Cassandra incredulously.
He shrugged. ‘I imagined you would have too much confidence in yourself to let the prospect of defeat enter your mind. It seems I was wrong. You disappoint me, Cassandra. Where is your sense of adventure?’
Cassandra fought to quell her rising panic. After all, why should she be surprised. Hadn’t the same thing been expected of Katya, her predecessor? So why had she imagined it would be different for her. And yet she had imagined it. Because she was involved emotionally with the baron she had made the mistake of thinking it was the same for him, despite the fact that he had always told her that he was incapable of love.
She realised now that secretly, in her subconscious, she’d been misleading herself. The tranquillity of their life here, enlivened by the long decadent parties and intimate weekends for special friends, had suited her and until recently she’d thought the baron content too. This had led her to believe that in her he had at last found the one woman who could be everything to him.
Lately though, she’d sensed the boredom, and now she understood the cause. She wasn’t enough for him; he needed a fresh challenge, a new stimulus, and if she refused to play the game or didn’t participate in the way he wished then she was finished anyway. To ‘disappoint’ him was the ultimate sin.
She forced herself to pick up the discarded croissant and begin nibbling on it again, hoping that the coffee had moistened her throat sufficiently for her to swallow the crumbs. ‘To be frank, Dieter,’ she said slowly, ‘I can’t quite see that it will be much of a challenge. What makes you think this Nicola will be in the least bit sensual? It isn’t as though you’ve met her, assessed her for yourself. She may well be the one to prove a disappointment to you.’
The baron smiled again. This was better, more the kind of behaviour he’d come to expect from Cassandra, and he admired the way she was coping with his news now she’d had a few moments to consider it. ‘You may be right, but considering the way Sir James behaves I think it quite likely there’s a vein of untapped sexuality in Nicola. We may just have a little trouble unleashing it.’
‘Whatever she’s like, she won’t win,’ said Cassandra, her voice calm and certain.
‘I’d hoped you’d say that.’
‘Well then, when does she arrive?’
The baron rolled onto his side and let the fingers of his right hand dance over the sensitive thin skin that covered Cassandra’s left hipbone. ‘In a week’s time. Before then I want a suite of rooms prepared for her. She’ll need a bedroom not too far from us, say the green room, and she can have the bathroom and dressing room that are next door.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better for her to have an ensuite bathroom?’ asked Cassandra.
‘I think not. There may be times when we wish to make these facilities unavailable to her. It will be easier done this way. Also, in the green room when her windows are open she will hear sounds from the floor above when the punishment chair is in use.’
‘I’ll make sure that the rooms are thoroughly aired and suitably fitted out,’ said Cassandra. The baron nodded. They understood each other. Nicola’s bedroom would have everything necessary for her initiation fitted or concealed in her rooms before her arrival.
‘She must have all her senses heightened from the start,’ he added. ‘Fresh flowers, silk sheets, excellent food and wine on the first night, fresh fruit in her room, Belgian chocolates, that kind of thing. We’ll work on her more down-to-earth appetites before we begin the serious work!’ He laughed and Cassandra shivered. Just for one brief moment she felt sorry for the young girl who was going to join them, but then she hardened her heart.
Nicola would learn of previously unimagined pleasures here in the chateau, and would undoubtedly fall in love with the baron in the process. If she proved too good a pupil then she wouldn’t need Cassandra’s pity for long.
‘Will we be the only ones to educate her?’ Cassandra asked as, her croissant finished, she swung her long legs out of bed and began to dress.
The baron watched her, wondering whether or not he wanted to make love to her again before getting up but finally deciding against it. He’d rather save himself for enjoying her after Monique was released from her day’s punishment.
‘Not at all,’ he responded.
‘After a time, when I judge her ready for fresh stimulation, I shall invite Rupert and Françoise to join us, together with a young Italian friend of theirs, Giovanni Benelli. That, I think, will enable us to really expand our novice’s horizons. Before that Peter and the maids will doubtless be useful from time to time.’
Cassandra nodded. She’d expected to hear that Rupert and Françoise would join them, and could remember very well how much they’d taught her about her body when she was innocent. ‘Talking of the maids, I must go and talk to Monique,’ she remarked.
‘Of course. I shall go for a walk around the grounds and later I may drive into town for lunch with some business advisors. I shall return about five.’
Cassandra nodded, aware that this meant he expected her to have Monique ready for him by then. She bent to kiss the baron on the cheek, their normal way of parting, but he surprised her by gripping her face tightly between his hands and kissing her fiercely on the mouth. ‘It will be fun!’ he whispered as he released her. ‘There is nothing to beat the thrill of such a game.’
When Cassandra entered the cool, spacious kitchen where the two maids and the chef were already at work, she could still feel the pressure of the baron’s lips on hers and she touched them lightly with her fingers. Whatever this Nicola was like, she would never take over at the chateau, Cassandra vowed to herself. No matter what it took, she would defeat her in the end.
Monique, horribly aware of the broken Limoges cream jug on the previous Friday night, glanced apprehensively at her mistress when she entered, but Cassandra smiled disarmingly at her and the hapless girl relaxed slightly.
‘Have you breakfasted, Monique?’ she asked gently. The maid nodded, hands clasped in front of her as expected.
‘Excellent. Bring me the punishment book please. The baron was most displeased with the accident on Friday night and I wish to see when you were last put in the chair.’
Sophie, the other maid, didn’t glance at her redheaded friend, because she knew only too well the look of horror she’d see on her face. For Sophie there was a special kind of ecstasy in that particular punishment, but she knew that Monique didn’t share her feelings.
‘Madame, please, it was an accident,’ Monique gabbled, wishing her English was better.
‘Of course it was. If it had been deliberate then you would have been dismissed. As it is you must be punished. You know the rules. Unless, of course, you wish to leave our employment now?’
Monique’s pale face grew even paler so that her freckles stood out more clearly. ‘Non! Non!’ she protested, and Cassandra, who knew very well that the redhead was besotted with the baron, smiled sympathetically.
‘Bring me the book then,’ she reminded her.
With slow steps the small-breasted, highly-strung maid went to the cupboard above the sink and brought out the punishment book. It contained a list of all fines and punishments administered to members of staff who broke any of the baron’s numerous rules, but it was Monique’s name who figured in it the most prominently. She had the unhappy knack of dropping things at vital moments, and remembering to knock on all doors before entering seemed beyond her mental capabilities. Nevertheless, she remained at the chateau because, despite some pain, she had learnt more of pleasure and desire there than anywhere else and she had no wish to return to the tiny, conventional home from which she had come.
Cassandra checked the pages carefully. It was over two months since this particular form of chastisement had been used on the maid and she considered this an adequate gap. ‘It seems that the chair can be used,’ she said gently. ‘Sophie, fetch Peter from his duties, please. I’ll need him to help me.’
Sophie, who lived in the hope that one day she and Peter would marry, went off sulkily to fetch him. She knew that he’d derive great sexual excitement and satisfaction during the course of Monique’s ordeal, but there was nothing she could do about it. The rules always had to be obeyed.
When Peter appeared, Monique started towards the small door that led out of the kitchen and up the backstairs of the west wing of the chateau. On the top floor was the room where the punishment chair was kept, and the higher they climbed the greater the difficulty Monique had in keeping herself from falling because her legs were trembling with fear.
Cassandra unlocked the door with a key hanging from her waist, and then stepped to one side so that Monique had to enter the room of her own accord. This too was part of the punishment, that the girl must be seen to embrace her chastisement willingly.
In the middle of the bare floor, beneath an unlit spotlight, there was a strange chair. Its high back was made of solid oak with two round holes set half-way up on each side, while the tapestry seat seemed a little higher than was usual for a chair. The chair legs were very long, and an adjustable round metal ring was set near the foot of each of the front ones. There were no arms.
Cassandra, who had herself been forced to sit in the chair when she had annoyed the baron by keeping his guests waiting one weekend while she decided what dress to wear, understood very well what Monique must be going through.
‘Take off your clothes,’ she said crisply.
‘Peter, once she’s naked, fasten her wrists behind her back with some leather cuffs.’ Peter quickly fetched the cuffs from a chest of drawers at the side of the room, and then pulled the maid’s arms behind her and manacled the wrists together, pulling her arms back hard so that her breasts jutted forward.
‘Now remove the chair seat,’ Cassandra said quietly.
Monique gave a small moan, quickly stifled in case this increased the duration of her punishment. Once Peter had lifted off the tapestry seat a strange underseat was revealed. It was shaped rather like the seat of a commode but lined with soft sheepskin while in the middle there was a hole, whose purpose Monique remembered only too well.
Before she could start to struggle, Peter had seized her around her bare waist and then twisted her so that she was facing the back of the chair. Now the reason for the holes there became clear as he pressed the white-skinned maid’s small breasts up against them and then manipulated the tender tissue until her nipples protruded through to the other side.
Once her breasts were correctly in place it meant that she was sitting in such a way that the hole in the sheepskin seat left her entire vulva exposed to any stimulation from beneath the chair, and as she wriggled to try and alter this slightly, Cassandra bent the girl’s legs back from the knee and then clipped the rings round her ankles.
She was now fastened in such a way that her chin could just rest on the top of the back of the chair, her breasts were imprisoned in the holes and her belly was tilted slightly forward, opening her sex lips a little wider because of the way her ankles were fastened. With her arms manacled behind her there was nothing she could do to change her position or alter the tension on her breasts and abdomen, nor could she see anything that was going on in the room behind her.
Cassandra walked round to the back of the chair and looked down at the maid’s face, noting the trembling lips and wide, scared eyes. ‘Are you quite sure you wish to remain on our staff, Monique?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Madame,’ stammered the maid.
‘Very well. Peter, you must stay here with her for the day. Keep her breasts stimulated and don’t allow her to become too cool between her thighs. The baron will return at five tonight. He wishes to see to Monique then, before he has his dinner.’
Monique heard the words ‘Five tonight’ and her whole body trembled. She’d never had to endure the chair for longer than three hours before. This meant nearly seven hours; seven hours during which she would be aroused but given no respite. She wondered how she was going to manage. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Cassandra calmly. ‘You’ve been well trained now. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t consider you capable. Use only your hands, mouth and penis on her, Peter. The baron will use the mechanical devices later.’ ‘Madame, it was an accident!’ Monique called out as Cassandra left, but the baron’s mistress ignored her. It had still been clumsy and that had irritated her lover. The girl was lucky not to have been dismissed, and in any case she would be interested to see how Monique coped with the day and what her reaction would be when the baron returned. It would give Cassandra an idea of how long it might take to train Nicola to the chair once she arrived. Somehow she doubted if a young innocent girl from England would ever manage to master the techniques necessary for such control, and if she didn’t, then Cassandra was safe.
The baron returned promptly at five that evening in high spirits. He had checked his estate, learnt that the breeding programme of his black swans was going well, and then had a long, indulgent lunch with his Austrian financial advisor. Now it was time for some fun.
He went to his room, changed into beige flannels and a short-sleeved white shirt which he left open at the neck and then, using the backstairs, hurried to the punishment room. As he had anticipated, Peter was there with the redheaded maid. He was so busy suckling on her small red nipples extending through the holes in the wood that he failed to hear his master enter the room.
‘Leave her now,’ said the baron curtly. Peter jumped, accidentally grazing one of the maid’s already tender nipples and making her squeal. The baron turned his head and gave her a look of displeasure that effectively silenced her.
‘How has she been?’ he asked casually.
‘She’s done well,’ conceded Peter. ‘She’s cried and carried on quite a lot, but she hasn’t made any mistakes.’
‘Excellent! Leave us now, and send Cassandra to join me.’
Monique, whose body had never before been the recipient of such prolonged and varied attentions, looked up at the baron appealingly. She knew that although she’d managed to obey all instructions so far it was now that she would finally pay the price for the broken Limoges jug. This man and his mistress were diabolical in the skilful way they could punish; in the end she would forget the pain and fear they engendered because there was always also a strange, dark, unspeakable pleasure that Monique could never imagine finding in any other household.
She heard the door behind her open. ‘Come in, my dear,’ said the baron silkily. ‘It’s time for us to attend to Monique ourselves.’
Cassandra, entering from the main doorway, saw Monique’s shaking back and noted also the way in which she was staring up at the baron. It was no secret in the chateau that the small redheaded maid was obsessed by her employer, but at times like this Cassandra wondered what it was about him that could charm so many women, no matter what they endured at his hands.
The baron sat on a low stool behind the chairback and carefully took the long protruding nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently so that they swelled even more and turned a darker shade of red.
He could tell from their colour that Peter had been spending a lot of time on her breasts, but at this moment they were not swollen to their full size, and he gestured with his head for Cassandra to fetch all the equipment necessary to enable them to put the final touches to the maid’s punishment.
Monique was unable to see any of the items placed by the baron’s feet; all she was aware of was the terrible fullness of her bladder and bowels, the tight aching of her thigh and calf muscles from their hours of immobility and the dreadful sexual tension that Peter had kept at a steady level the entire time, without once allowing her the relief of a climax.
Now she no longer wanted one because she had too many other sensations to worry about and was afraid she would lose control of all her bodily functions if she became lost in one of the shattering climaxes the baron and his mistress could engender.
The baron poured some body lotion into his hands and carefully worked it into the fastened maid’s breasts, working around the undersides of the globes and then up round the sides before finally massaging it into the nipples themselves. He worked steadily and with intense concentration, until her nipples were more pliant than he could ever remember and she was moaning softly as her breasts swelled to fill the holes and the edges cut into her tender skin.
Now the baron caught hold of the end of each nipple and pulled them towards him, extending them to their limit before releasing them and watching the changes of expression on Monique’s face. Her eyes would widen as she felt the hard pulling throb that caused an ache to grow inside her distended stomach and then she would look bewildered as the nipples were released and the ache died away. After a time, when he judged her fully aroused there, the baron ordered Cassandra to come and continue the breast stimulation while he turned his attention elsewhere.
‘Please, I can’t wait much longer,’ Monique whispered to Cassandra, but she simply stroked the girl’s brow before continuing to softly caress the tightly trapped breasts. She knew Monique was right, but there was nothing Cassandra could do to change what was going to happen, and in any case she could feel her own rising excitement as Monique grew more and more frantic as the baron busied himself behind her.
‘Now, Monique,’ he said softly.
‘As you know, to break Limoges china is a serious offence, which is why you are being punished severely. However, I understand that you have personal limitations, and since I do not wish for any unpleasant accident to occur during the next few minutes I shall assist you in the matter of control. Perhaps you would care to thank me for my thoughtfulness?’ he added with a low laugh.
Monique knew what was expected of her. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she managed to whisper, while her body shook still more violently.
The baron smiled over the imprisoned maid’s body to where Cassandra was standing and she smiled back at him. Very softly he lubricated a T-shaped anal plug and then before Monique knew what was happening he slid a hand beneath the cheeks of her bottom and with a deft turn of the fingers the plug was safely inserted into her rectum.
Monique screamed at the cool invasion into an area that already felt overburdened and uncomfortable, but as soon as she screamed the baron put his hand back beneath her and moved the T-bar from side to side so that the probe inside her touched her inner walls and her bowels went into a painful spasm.
‘Be silent!’ he cautioned her, and this time she managed to remain quiet.
At this point, the baron allowed himself to let a hand stray beneath the seat of the chair so that he could test her exposed vulva for himself. As he’d anticipated she was very damp there, her juices clearly flowing with arousal despite her apparent discomfort.
Peter had done his work well, reflected the baron, and this girl was more than ready for what was to come. For a few moments he let his fingers swirl along the damp flesh and despite her discomfort and fear Monique found that she was pressing down towards this delicate and welcome pressure, but as a result her breasts pulled painfully, trapped in the holes of the chairback and she had to stay where she was, unable to increase the stimulation herself.
‘I think I know what you need here,’ murmured the baron to himself, and Cassandra watched with rising excitement as he placed a tall rod set in a heavy base beneath the chair. At the top of the rod there were claw-like extensions and at the pinnacle of each extension a tiny soft, multi-bristled tip like a small electric toothbrush. Carefully, the baron adjusted it so that the brushes were exactly where he wanted them to be.
Monique had no idea of what he was doing beneath the chair; all that she could feel was the cool dispassionate touch of his fingers as he pulled on her outer sex lips and felt his way around between her inner lips in order to get everything aligned to his satisfaction, so that she was left with a strange pressure from the motionless bristles.
Once this was done he left her for a moment and then picked up a twin-action portable massager. One of the heads had rigid mini-fingers that gave a strong kneading massage when the machine was turned on, while the other head was made up of six rolling balls each individually spring-loaded to give an entirely different but equally stimulating sensation.
Now he had reached the moment he had been waiting for all day. He signalled for Cassandra to stand up so that she could watch what was going on while still kneading at the imprisoned maid’s breasts. Then he moved so that Monique could see him, and see also what was in his hand.
‘I’m going to use this on your stomach, Monique,’ he said, his voice almost caressing. Then he slid the flat of one hand between her swollen belly and the chairback and pressed on it for a moment. At the increased pressure on her bladder and engorged pelvic area, Monique couldn’t suppress a tiny cry, but even as she gave it she felt sharp fingers of delight shooting through her and deep inside her exposed vulva a heavy pulse started to throb.
The baron could feel the hardness of her bunched muscles, the straining of the flesh beneath his fingers and knew that the machine would provoke her senses beyond her control. Carefully he eased her back a little to make room for the machine, and then switched it on.
The multi-fingered end he positioned at the very base of her stomach, in order for it to massage across the tissue that protected her bladder, while at the same time moving the flesh in such a way that her clitoral hood was pulled back and the clitoris itself exposed and indirectly stimulated. At the same time, the more gentle movements of the rolling balls titillated her entire pelvic area, already swollen and heavy with desire and within seconds of the machine starting, Monique was making moaning sounds of a very different kind.
Watching, Cassandra felt her own breasts swell just as the maid’s were swelling in her hands, and in the pit of her stomach was a heavy ache such as she knew must be swamping Monique. She felt almost weak with desire for the baron, for relief from her rising need, and because she had now been with him for so long she was no longer ashamed of her need or the fact that it was Monique’s bitter-sweet punishment causing it.
At a sign from the baron, Cassandra released one of the maid’s breasts and bent down to switch on the multi-bristled machine just beneath her unsuspecting and protruding vulva. For Monique, the sudden movement of the many-headed brushes against all her most sensitive spots was like the switching on of an electric current. As the bristles tickled at the opening of her vagina, swept around the unprotected clitoris itself and danced over the paper-thin membrane that surrounded the opening to her urethra, she began to pant and groan while sweat beaded her upper lip and formed a slick film down her back.
‘Non! Non!’ she gasped, feeling the sensations gathering together and forming what she always imagined to be a tiny white pinprick of light somewhere between her thighs, a light that she knew would grow and grow until it filled her belly and breasts and would finally explode in a shattering sensation that she sometimes feared would destroy her.
‘Control yourself, Monique,’ said the baron coldly. ‘You know very well that you must keep silent.’
Cassandra swallowed, her mouth and throat dry and her heart racing as she watched the maid’s eyes widening and gazing up at her in despair as the stimulation continued and her body refused to be disciplined any longer.
The baron pressed the twin-headed massager more firmly against the straining stomach and heard the sharp hiss of indrawn breath as she squirmed within the limits of her bonds, but there was no way she could escape any of the relentless arousal.
Now it was time for the final touch from the baron. Without lessening the friction of the machine on her stomach he used his free hand to trail a leather tawse down the maid’s sweat-covered spine. Monique gasped, and tried to press herself forward to escape it, with the result that her belly was massaged more deeply and her breasts more tightly imprisoned, while beneath her the gentle bristles continued to twist and turn against her most erogenous zones.
‘Keep still,’ the baron instructed. Monique froze. The baron smiled to himself and let the tawse rest at the very base of the spine, in the gap where her buttocks began. He looked carefully at his victim and saw that she was almost at the point of no return.
Despite all her efforts Monique was making tiny gasping sounds and her head was beginning to arch backwards as her muscles prepared to go into the rigidity of orgasmic release.
Cassandra, knowing as well as her lover what was happening, suddenly stopped massaging the maid’s breasts and instead slapped them across the undersides. The shock precipitated the beginnings of Monique’s climax, but just as she felt it rolling over her, felt the tension reaching its peak and the white hot heat of the glorious light surging all over her body, the baron pushed the machine beneath the punishment chair away with his foot and then swirled the tawse in a circular dance right at the very bottom of the spine, where the nerve endings led directly to the bladder.
To Monique’s horror this last diabolical touch proved impossible to resist and even as she was racked by the most intense orgasm she’d had yet in the chateau, she lost control of herself and felt the hot liquid gushing from her and splashing onto the bare boards beneath.
Both the baron and Cassandra continued the stimulation until Monique was limp and sobbing, her body still being shaken by unwanted small climaxes that her flesh couldn’t resist. Finally, just when Monique thought she could bear no more, they stopped.
‘You did well,’ said the baron calmly as he and Cassandra eased the red, chafed breasts back through the holes, unfastened her ankles and wrists and lifted her from the chair. ‘Now you can sit on the stool here, with the T-bar in I think, and watch us for a few minutes. After that it will be time for you to go and get ready to serve us dinner.’
Monique had imagined that her ordeal was over, but when she sat on the hard stool and felt the rectal probe within her she was amazed to feel fresh stirrings of desire and had to watch, heavy-eyed, as the baron pushed Cassandra down onto all fours, bending her arms so that her forehead was touching the boards, and then he was reaching round her and Monique was forced to listen to the sounds of Cassandra’s rising excitement.
For Cassandra this was always the best moment of all: to know that Monique was watching, still desiring the baron, still heavy with need, and yet forced to watch him satisfying another woman. With a flash of insight she knew that one day she would make sure Nicola was in Monique’s place.
Then all that was forgotten as the baron’s fingers pushed aside her G-string, found her soaking bud of pleasure and skimmed along the sides before flicking at the very base of the stem, where she most loved to be stimulated. As all her pent-up excitement was allowed to burst into fruition, Cassandra threw back her head and cried out in ecstasy while her lover lunged into her from behind, his hands gripping her waist in order to keep her still under the power of his thrusts.
Today he seemed even stronger than usual, and he allowed Cassandra to climax four times before finally coming himself with the almost imperceptible intake of breath which was all he allowed himself in front of any of the servants.
As soon as he had finished he withdrew, helped Cassandra to her feet and then left the room. It was left to Cassandra to help the trembling Monique off the stool, remove the T-bar from her back passage and then assist her into her clothes.
Monique, her eyes still glazed with sensation and passion, looked at the baron’s mistress and wondered how she could seem so composed and calm as she helped her to dress. A few minutes earlier she’d been screaming and bucking against the baron in total sexual abandon, and yet now she looked almost virginal again.
‘I hope you’ve learnt your lesson, Monique,’ Cassandra said as the girl made her way towards the backstairs. ‘Only next time you will have to stay in the chair longer, and an enema might even be included.’
Monique shivered. She’d heard of such things from Sophie and had no wish to endure them herself. ‘Yes, Madame,’ she whispered. ‘I understand.’
‘Good, and make sure your hair is washed and tidy before dinner tonight. You look a mess at the moment.’
‘Of course, Madame,’ apologised Monique, wanting only to be gone from the room with all its memories.
Cassandra relented. ‘Very well, you may go now.’
The maid rushed from the room and Cassandra gave a soft sigh. It had been fun, and the girl had clearly enjoyed herself at the end, but she was beginning to understand Dieter’s excitement at the prospect of Nicola’s visit. To work on genuinely innocent flesh would be unbelievably erotic, and her earlier fears vanished at the thought of the excitement which lay ahead.