Nicola Desmond sat in the back of the chauffeur driven Mercedes that the baron had sent to collect her from the airport and stared out of the window. The scenery was breathtaking, the wide Loire river with its islands of woods and the incredible beauty of some of the most famous of the valley’s chateaux, which the driver pointed out to her as they passed, all seemed like something out of a fairy tale.
Wearing a mauve and green madras check cotton dress with short sleeves and a simple round neckline, the English girl looked as innocent as she was. This sudden departure to France to stay with one of her father’s friends was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in her entire twenty years. She pictured the unknown baron as a contemporary of her father’s; a white-haired, impeccably mannered member of the aristocracy whose way of life would be just as slow and boring as her father’s, but at least in a more exotic setting and without any military library for her to catalogue.
The Mercedes left the main road they’d been on for the past half hour and now the chauffeur slowed his speed as they followed a narrow twisting lane which was overhung by trees. Suddenly the car emerged from the shadows into brilliant sunlight and Nicola gasped as she looked out across a large blue lake and saw a white, three-storey, Renaissance-style chateau on the far side. It was so exquisite it seemed unreal, and its reflection in the water made it look as though there was a twin chateau upside down, beneath it. ‘There you are,’ said the chauffeur, with a smile at her obvious delight. ‘The baron’s chateau. That’s the back you can see from here. We have to drive around the lake to reach the entrance. The driveway itself is four hundred metres long.’
‘It’s very isolated,’ murmured Nicola.
‘He prefers it that way.’
‘I suppose men like their peace as they get older,’ replied Nicola. The chauffeur didn’t respond.
When they reached the huge, wrought-iron gates at the entrance to the chateau, a man emerged from a small gatehouse and opened up the gates to allow them in. They then swept along the gravel drive and around an immaculate square of lawn until they came to a halt outside the front door.
As Nicola clambered out of the car, her dress sticking to her bare legs and clinging tightly across her breasts where her skin was damp with perspiration, she glanced around in excitement at the vast grounds and dense copses, and for the first time felt grateful that her father had decided to marry Lara.
For the baron, looking out of a second-storey bedroom, it was an equally exciting moment. This girl, with her corn-coloured hair cut in an old-fashioned pageboy style and her expensive but plain dress, was quite clearly totally unaware of herself as a sensual being. The manner in which she scrambled from the car, her slightly awkward walk and the way she kept her head down gave off no hint of sexuality. He sighed with pleasurable anticipation.
Next to him, Cassandra also watched intently. Wearing a calf-length cream skirt with long vents at the back and sides, teamed with a matching scoop-necked over-tunic, and her small waist emphasised by a thick brown woven leather belt, she knew that she looked elegant yet casual. She’d chosen her clothes carefully; they were intended to impress without overwhelming the newcomer. She also wanted to look sophisticated yet friendly.
‘Well?’ enquired the baron softly.
Cassandra ignored the question. ‘I think we should go down and welcome her.’
‘Of course. Are all the cameras correctly in position?’
‘I checked them myself. Everything Nicola does will be filmed.’ ‘Except in my room,’ murmured the baron.
Cassandra felt a fluttering of fear. She hadn’t allowed herself to picture the newcomer alone with the baron, in total privacy. ‘Except in your room,’ she agreed.
He smiled to himself, knowing that for once he’d managed to disturb her normally impenetrable façade. ‘Let us go then,’ he said, brushing her cheek with his lips before gently propelling her out of the room.
Nicola heard the sound of Cassandra’s sandals on the landing above the entrance hall and looked up at the couple as they descended the wide staircase. Her first thought was that the young woman, so carefully groomed and poised, would probably find her just as irritating as Lara had, and she suddenly wished she’d never left London. Then, as the baron crossed the tiled hall and took her hand in his, pressing her fingers warmly as he introduced himself, she immediately changed her mind.
It seemed impossible that this handsome, smiling, brown-eyed man, who was probably little more than forty, could be a friend of her father’s. Tiny butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she gazed at him and felt the full force of his charismatic charm.
For Cassandra, watching from behind her lover, Nicola’s feelings were very clear. The gentle pink glow that suffused her cheeks, the awkward shifting of her feet as Dieter held her gaze a fraction longer than was normal, were all clear pointers that the subtle seduction had already begun.
Suddenly the baron released Nicola’s hand and stepped back a pace, his eyes sweeping over her as he made an assessment. ‘You look very hot and crumpled,’ he said shortly. ‘I like the women in my chateau to be well groomed at all times. Cassandra will have to help you; you clearly have a lot to learn about such things.’ Startled, Nicola glanced at Cassandra, her eyes reflecting her pain at the baron’s swift change of mood. Cassandra smiled reassuringly at her and moved to stand next to the girl.
‘Nicola’s had a long, tiring journey, Dieter. I’ll take her to her room so that she can rest and freshen up,’ she said placidly.
The baron nodded. ‘We’re delighted to have you here, Nicola,’ he remarked, turning away, ‘but you will of course be expected to obey my house rules. I’m sure you can understand that, coming from a military family.’
‘I – yes, of course.’ Nicola could hardly speak she was so disconcerted and when Cassandra put a friendly arm round her shoulders and led her upstairs, she felt a surge of gratitude.
‘You do look very hot,’ said Cassandra sympathetically, leading Nicola into the bedroom which had been so carefully prepared for her. ‘There’s a bathroom next door, no one will use it but you. I’m sorry there’s no connecting door, but with very old buildings like this some changes just can’t be made.’
‘It really doesn’t matter,’ Nicola assured her. ‘This room’s gorgeous,’ she added.
Cassandra smiled. ‘I hoped you’d like it. I chose the colour scheme for you myself.’
The soft coral wallpaper and the snow-white curtains and bedspread looked wonderfully clean and bright to Nicola, whose bedroom in her father’s London home had been badly in need of decorating. She also liked the king-size bed, little realising that beneath the ruffled covers metal rings were already in place.
‘I’ll have Monique unpack for you while you bathe,’ said Cassandra. ‘If you’d like to take off your dress that can be laundered and returned to you by morning.’
Nicola hesitated. She suddenly felt awkward, and there was a tension in the air that she couldn’t understand. She supposed it was her own shyness at the prospect of undressing in front of such a beautiful woman but as Cassandra continued to wait, smiling pleasantly, Nicola felt she had no choice.
As she unfastened the buttons at the front of the bodice and then pulled the garment over her head she revealed a slim, pale body unused to sunlight with unexpectedly full breasts that nearly overflowed from the slightly too small beige satin bra.
Cassandra took the dress. ‘You can put your lingerie in the linen basket in the bathroom. It will be emptied each morning. Lunch will be in the courtyard since it’s such a lovely day. Wear anything that’s comfortable, but I should mention that we always dress formally for dinner.’
Nicola nodded, hoping she’d brought enough clothes. At home her father had rarely required her presence at his dinner table and she hadn’t expected the baron to be any different.
‘Cassandra, the baron mentioned rules,’ she said hesitantly.
‘I wouldn’t like to offend him again, so perhaps you could tell me the important ones.’
Cassandra nodded. ‘Of course. He’s very strict about punctuality; breakfast is at eight, lunch at twelve-thirty, dinner at eight-thirty. Another thing he’s very fussy about is knocking on doors. Apart from your own rooms you must never enter any room in the chateau without knocking first.’
‘Why not?’ asked Nicola curiously.
In his room the baron’s eyebrows went up and he leant towards the screen he was watching. He hadn’t anticipated questions from her at this stage.
Cassandra shrugged. ‘Because the baron says so.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense. I mean, if a room is empty . . .’
‘If, after a short wait, you don’t get a reply then naturally you go in,’ said Cassandra. ‘It’s a question of privacy. You’ll learn too that not all of the baron’s rules make sense, but he still expects them to be obeyed. He believes it’s important for people to learn to take orders without questioning them, and in the process discover how to discipline themselves.’
Nicola frowned, clearly not understanding. ‘Are there other rules I should know about?’
‘You’ll pick up a lot of them as you go along, but as you’ve already learnt, the baron is most particular about the way women appear. He likes them to be well groomed and attractively dressed at all times. He’s a connoisseur of beauty; ugliness in any form distresses him.’
‘Surely it’s what people are like, not how they appear, that matters,’ said Nicola earnestly.
Cassandra stepped closer to her and touched her very lightly on her bare shoulders. ‘You’ve got a lovely figure; you must dress to show it off better.’
Nicola stared into Cassandra’s dark eyes. ‘Most of my clothes are more functional than decorative,’ she responded. ‘They’re well made but . . .’
‘I’ll help you,’ Cassandra assured her. ‘We’ll take a shopping trip up to Paris together. Dieter will be delighted to let us use his private plane.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘You’d better have your bath now; it’s only half an hour to lunch-time.’
‘Where do I go when I’m ready?’
‘Just pull on the tasselled cord there. One of the maids will show you the way down. And Nicola.’
Cassandra smiled more warmly than at any other time. ‘The baron and I are both so pleased that your father’s asked us to finish off your education for him.’
In his bedroom the baron watched Nicola’s face as his mistress left the room. He was amused by her puzzled expression. It had been a clever remark by Cassandra, unsettling but not frightening, and he appreciated it. He had also appreciated Nicola’s virginal body; her slender limbs and surprisingly voluptuous breasts. The contrast with Cassandra’s smaller, tight breasts with their delicate nipples was stimulating. He thought that he’d probably begin with Nicola’s breasts.
Cassandra returned to her bedroom and watched on the monitor as Nicola went into the bathroom. She stripped naked, then filled the tub with water. Her buttocks were small and tight, her legs slim and the triangle of pubic hair was a fine golden down. Watching her, Cassandra found it almost impossible to imagine Nicola writhing in ecstasy beneath the baron’s ministrations. There was no sign of sexuality in her body, and even when she soaped herself her movements were brisk and efficient; there was no lingering touch of her fingers on her dark nipples, nor between her thighs when she stood and soaped herself there.
Cassandra wondered how Nicola would be able to bear the incredible pleasure she and the baron would give her; and as for the dark, bitter-sweet sensations that would follow her initiation, they seemed too farfetched even to contemplate. Yet it would happen, Cassandra knew, because that was what the game was all about.
Her bath over, Nicola wrapped herself in a length of white towelling edged in pink that fastened around the top of her breasts with a velcro strip and returned to her bedroom. Her cases had already been unpacked and her clothes hung in the huge built-in wardrobe with mirrored doors.
After some hesitation she selected a pair of mustard and green striped culottes, a short-sleeved embroidered cream blouse and a long mustard-coloured cardigan in case the sun went in, stepped into a pair of canvas shoes and then pulled on the cord.
It was Sophie who came to lead her to the courtyard. She’d already heard about the young English girl from Peter, who’d driven her from the airport, and his enthusiastic remarks about her peaches and cream complexion and almost childlike delight in the drive made her sullen.
‘How many rooms are there in the chateau?’ asked Nicola, following the dark-haired maid along a corridor and down a flight of stairs.
‘Many, many rooms,’ murmured Sophie tonelessly.
‘It’s so beautiful! I can’t believe how lucky I am to be staying here.’
Sophie, her face expressionless, held open one of the French doors that opened out into the courtyard and gestured for Nicola to step through. She wondered just how lucky the girl would think herself after a few more days here.
Emerging into the brilliant sunlight Nicola blinked, trying to adjust her vision. There was a well in the middle of the cobbled courtyard, and over the top of the well long metal struts arched inwards to form a decorative lovers’ knot at the top, some six feet above the actual well. Dry-stone walls surrounded the square on two sides, while the third side was protected by a dense hedge that entirely blocked out any gentle breeze.
As she walked hesitantly over the cobbles, Nicola saw that Cassandra and the baron were seated side by side in a canopied swing seat. Cassandra was wearing a high-cut swimsuit in an exotic tropical flower print with a matching loose shirt-style cover-up that was unbuttoned so that her long, slim legs, tanned and firm, were shown to their best advantage.
Nicola was surprised that they didn’t seem to have heard her approaching, because the baron was slowly stroking his mistress’s right leg, his hand lingering near the top of her thigh where the swimsuit cut into the flesh and Cassandra’s head was thrown back against the top of the seat, her eyes closed in enjoyment.
Nicola watched the way the baron’s hand moved, saw his lean fingers skimming over the tight skin and suddenly her whole body felt far too hot. The short-sleeved blouse could have been a woollen jumper from her skin’s reaction and her culottes, far from being cool, were heavy and clung to her legs as she walked.
She cleared her throat softly and although Cassandra didn’t move the baron’s eyes flicked towards her and he smiled.
‘There you are at last. We were getting quite worried about you. It’s easy to get lost in the chateau.’
Nicola’s mouth was dry and she couldn’t take her eyes away from the baron’s still moving hand.
‘One of your maids showed me the way,’ she muttered.
With his free hand he gestured towards an empty garden chair where she could sit with her legs extended and her head protected from the sun by an overhanging top.
‘Lunch will be served in a few minutes.’
The chair was positioned opposite the swing seat, and as Nicola sat down awkwardly on it, thrusting out her legs and leaning back against the cushioned headrest, she was very aware that the baron’s eyes never left her, even though his hand continued to caress Cassandra’s leg.
For Cassandra, the insistent stimulation caused both pleasure and tension. The baron’s instructions had been clear; she could allow herself to become aroused but not to climax. He wanted Nicola to see Cassandra’s pleasure, but not the final result. Tonight he would touch the newcomer for the first time, let her flesh start to experience some of the secret delights that lay in store for it, but until then gentle subconscious arousal was his intention.
Unfortunately for Cassandra he seemed particularly involved in his task and her breathing was already rapid when he let his thumb skim between her thighs, across the tightly stretched material of her costume and over her swollen nub of pleasure. She felt the heavy tightness at the base of her stomach and the pre-orgasmic tingles of impending release deep within her centre. Desperately she clenched her abdominal muscles, subduing their attempts at spasming with excitement and at the same time she forced her mind away from the sensations, thinking instead about the girl sitting opposite her.
The baron felt Cassandra’s thighs tremble as her orgasm threatened to spill over, and he watched from beneath lowered lids as she successfully fought it off until at last her breathing returned to normal and only the droplets of perspiration in the hollow of her neck betrayed her silent conflict. He leant forward and licked them. Cassandra’s eyes opened and he smiled briefly into them before turning his full attention back to Nicola.
She had watched the scene in wide-eyed astonishment. Cassandra’s flushed face and shallow breathing had been obvious to her, but the true meaning of it all had been beyond her understanding. What she did know was that her breasts felt too large for the constraints of her bra, her stomach was tense and her skin hot and uncomfortable. When the baron licked at Cassandra’s throat Nicola’s heart thudded loudly in her ears and she wished that someone would bring out their lunch and shatter the heavy, heat-filled silence in the courtyard.
Just then Monique and Sophie emerged from an opening in the hedge. One was carrying a large silver tray of rolls, assorted cheeses, grapes and peaches while the other maid’s tray held two bottles of wine, a pitcher of lemonade and three ruby red glass tumblers as well as plates and knives. The trays were placed on a wooden table which the maids then lifted and left between Nicola’s chair and the swing seat.
Languidly, Cassandra lifted her head and stared about her as though uncertain where she was. The baron half-filled a tumbler with Chardonnay and handed it to her.
‘Here, liebling, this should make you feel better.’
Cassandra knew that it wouldn’t. Wine in moderation only increased her sexual desires, but she took the glass and drank some of the chilled liquid, savouring its distinctive bouquet.
The baron smiled at Nicola. ‘Wine, or lemonade?’
‘Lemonade please. I’m so thirsty.’
‘The lemonade is certainly refreshing. You can try some of my wines at dinner tonight. I hope you like good wines?’
‘I don’t have much experience,’ admitted Nicola.
Cassandra smiled at her. ‘You’ll soon learn,’ she said quietly and Nicola’s stomach tensed because the words, although innocent, sounded almost like a threat.
‘Come,’ said the baron briskly. ‘Eat, savour everything to the full. We believe in pleasure here. Do you enjoy eating, Nicola?’
‘I suppose so. I’m not fussy about my food, if that’s what you mean.’
He frowned. ‘That wasn’t what I meant at all. Tell me, have you left a heartbroken lover behind in London?’
Nicola, trying to cope with a crisp baguette, creamy brie and some grapes, wished he’d just ignore her. She felt so out of place with the pair of them and longed to retreat to her room as she frequently had done in London when she felt awkward and unsure. ‘No one at all,’ she confessed. ‘I hardly met up with any people of my own age in London. Daddy’s library took up my days, and in the evenings most of his friends were elderly or unsuitable.’
‘Unsuitable?’ queried Cassandra, who’d now regained control of herself.
‘Before my mother died she apparently made my father promise to keep me safe from temptation. She didn’t want me growing up too fast. I think she was very religious.’
‘But you are nearly twenty-one! It is time for you to grow up now, would you not agree?’ asked the baron, his brown eyes fixed on her with a peculiar intensity.
Nicola nodded. ‘Of course, but you can’t grow up on your own you know!’
There was a sudden silence. Nicola looked at the baron and now his eyes were gleaming, as though there was a light behind them. ‘Your father understood that,’ he told her softly. ‘That is the reason you’re here, little one.’
‘To meet new people you mean?’ she asked eagerly.
He sat back on the seat and steepled his fingers so that they were just touching the end of his chin.
‘To be awakened,’ he said softly.
Nicola’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. ‘Awakened?’
He nodded. ‘Your father has asked me to finish your education. To turn you into a complete woman. Doesn’t the idea appeal to you?’
Both the baron and Cassandra were watching her closely and a wave of panic swept over Nicola. She jumped out of her chair and her plate fell to the cobblestones, shattering into hundreds of pieces. ‘I’m very tired,’ she gabbled, her legs shaking and her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. ‘If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go to my room and lie down for the afternoon.’
The baron nodded. ‘But of course. And do relax, my dear Nicola. Believe me, by the time you leave here you will be eternally grateful to your father.’
Nicola turned on her heels and stumbled away, in through the French door and out of their sight.
‘Why did you tell her that?’ asked Cassandra.
‘She’d have worked it out soon enough and I wished to add a frisson of fear to her afternoon. It should heighten her senses tonight.’
Cassandra looked doubtful. ‘She didn’t seem very grateful or enthusiastic when you explained.’
‘She is already afraid of her own responses. She watched us constantly, without once closing her eyes. There is desire there, and definitely sensuality. The only thing I cannot tell is along what particular paths her preferences will take her.’
Cassandra stood up. ‘May I take Peter to my room now?’ she asked.
The baron laughed. ‘I think not! I shall join you there and we will enjoy ourselves while at the same time keeping an eye on Nicola. I would like us to have Monique for company.’
Cassandra nodded. ‘I’ll fetch her.’
‘Excellent! I’ll go up and prepare things while you do.’
Monique was sitting on the high step outside the huge kitchen, enjoying some of the early afternoon sun. Inside the chef and his assistant were hard at work preparing dinner, using the modern high-technology equipment that the baron had allowed into this one room.
He expected to eat well and had listened to his chef’s requirements when refurbishing the chateau. However, because of the white surfaces and gleaming stainless steel it was a room he resolutely refused to enter, so it was always Cassandra who had to go there when the maids were needed. If the baron wished to speak to the chef, he sent for him.
Cassandra crossed the room and called Monique’s name. When the girl appeared she was totally expressionless. ‘You’re needed upstairs, Monique,’ said Cassandra softly.
Monique’s pale face flushed and when the flush faded her skin seemed even whiter than before but she nodded obediently, put on a clean white apron and mob cap and followed her mistress up the stairs. She was relieved to discover that they were heading for the double bedroom, not the punishment room.
Unusually for times like this, the baron was fully clothed. He also had a TV screen on, and Monique could see a fair-haired young woman wearing only a pair of white high-cut briefs lying on her back in the middle of a huge bed.
Cassandra glanced at the screen. ‘Has she done anything?’
The baron shook his head. ‘She took off most of her clothes, that’s all. I trust she has indulged in self-pleasuring at some time during her life!’
As the couple talked, Monique waited silently, hoping that the baron would be in a generous mood once they got down to whatever activity he had in mind. He watched the motionless blonde on the screen for a moment longer then turned to the maid.
‘Take off all your clothes and then undress your mistress.’
Monique complied. Her uniform was easily divested, but Cassandra’s outfit proved more difficult and when she fumbled with the leather belt the baron clicked his tongue in disapproval.
Finally both women were naked. The baron sat Cassandra in a chair opposite the foot of the bed, threw a bolster filled with duck feathers onto the bed and gestured towards it.
‘Make love to it, Monique. Wrap yourself around it, press against it and keep your hips moving all the time. I expect you to come within five minutes.’
Although used to the exercise, five minutes was a very short time at the start of a session and Monique wasn’t sure she could manage it, but failure was never a pleasant thought in the chateau and she quickly climbed onto the bed. As she felt her body sink into the feather softness she closed her eyes and pretended it was the baron pressing against her, arousing her naked body, and the faster she moved her hips the quicker her arousal grew.
‘I shall enjoy watching Nicola do this,’ murmured the baron, letting a hand stray over Cassandra’s breasts. ‘How firm you feel,’ he added lightly, and pinched each of the small pink nipples in turn until they lengthened and grew hard.
Cassandra moaned softly. She was watching Monique, listening to the girl’s subdued but rising sounds of excitement and waiting tensely for the moment when the slight body would shake with release.
Monique was nearly there; her breasts were on fire, her stomach full and tight and suddenly the liquid warmth spread through her in a rush and she gave a cry of relief.
The baron glanced at his watch. ‘Four minutes ten seconds. Excellent! Now lie on your back on the bolster with your legs spread out on each side.’ Monique obeyed. ‘Good. Next I shall use my mouth on you. This time you have four minutes.’
Suddenly Monique saw the way the game was going and knew that once again by the end of the session her pleasure would be edged with pain, but this was what she had come to need and was the secret of her refusal to leave the chateau.
Cassandra moved to sit next to the girl as the baron put his head between her thighs. When his tongue touched the still highly sensitive flesh of her inner lips Monique’s legs started to close and Cassandra slid a hand beneath the cheeks of the maid’s bottom, one slim finger resting lightly against the opening there. Immediately the girl’s legs opened fully again.
The baron teased the maid mercilessly. He licked, sucked and flicked with his tongue until her sex lips were swollen and red and when he drew her clitoris into his mouth her hips bucked and she shouted aloud as her second climax washed over her.
Again the baron checked his watch. ‘Three minutes fifty seconds. How well you’re doing.’
Cassandra brushed the maid’s nipples with the palm of her hand and Monique arched upwards gratefully.
‘Now lie face-down,’ instructed the baron. Somewhat reluctantly, Monique obeyed. ‘This time you will have only three minutes so we will allow you a brief rest,’ he informed her. As Monique buried her head in the bolster the baron drew Cassandra onto his knee and stroked her all over her body as he watched the still motionless Nicola on the screen.
‘When is it my turn?’ whispered Cassandra, wriggling as his teeth nipped at her bare shoulders.
‘Tonight,’ he answered casually.
‘Tonight!’ Cassandra couldn’t believe him. ‘But I thought . . .’
‘I want you very ready when we give Nicola a demonstration of what lies ahead of her. Our session with Monique should ensure that you’re in the mood when the time comes.’
‘Why Monique then? I thought we were all going to have pleasure this afternoon.’
‘Monique is practice for me. Whilst scarcely an innocent I can work out some of the exercises that Nicola will be required to do within the next week. If only the girl would do something!’ he added irritably as Nicola continued to lie on her bed staring up at the ceiling with her arms at her sides.
With a sound of impatience he looked back at the waiting maid. Running a finger down her spine he felt her flesh tense. ‘Enough rest I think. Remember, you have three minutes. This time I shall attempt to find your elusive G-spot again.’
Monique’s heart sank. This had never worked for her, and she knew that this was why the baron had chosen it. As soon as she failed she would be punished, and her punishment would complete his afternoon’s enjoyment. She didn’t think that her mistress was enjoying herself very much though, and wondered why she wasn’t being allowed to take her usual active part in the proceedings.
The baron spread a little lubricating jelly onto two fingers and then slid them beneath the maid, caressing her vulva for a few seconds before inserting the fingers into her vagina, pressing down against the front wall of the opening as he tried to locate the tiny raised gland that could cause such ecstatic reactions from many women, although never as yet in Monique.
The maid shifted uneasily, trying desperately to get some feeling from the baron’s attentions, but although it was pleasant enough there was no suggestion of the magic tingles that always heralded a climactic build-up.
Cassandra went to attend to the girl’s breasts, reaching beneath her to softly finger the squashed globes, but the baron stopped her.
‘She is to come by this means only,’ he said curtly.
Monique tried her hardest to conjure up some kind of fantasy that might help her. She pictured herself lying in the grounds of the chateau, alone with her master as he fondled her with love and whispered endearments and praise. It worked up to a point, and her lubrication increased so that the baron’s fingers could move more easily around her opening. Then, at last, he located the tiny swelling and when his fingers skimmed over it it seemed to enlarge and Monique’s legs twitched as she felt a strange new sensation deep inside her.
‘Very good,’ the baron encouraged her. ‘At last we seem to be getting somewhere.’ He continued to manipulate the front vaginal wall, tapping lightly at each side of the spot and noticing how her hips had now begun to squirm against the bolster. He was pleased; it boded well for the future and yet it had also taken her too long to get this far for her to climax within the permitted three minutes.
Monique didn’t realise this and began to let the excitement build. She felt herself growing tight and warm and small sounds of enjoyment rose from her throat.
Then, as the darts of quicksilver pleasure began to spark, the baron withdrew his hand.
‘Time, I’m afraid. What a pity when you were doing so well. However, the rules are the rules and you have failed. What happens when you fail?’ he added lightly.
Monique turned her head to one side. ‘I have to be punished,’ she muttered.
‘Have to be?’ His tone was deceptively silky.
‘I want to be punished,’ she said quickly. ‘I need to learn total control of my body.’
‘Good. Then we will oblige you. Cassandra, ring for Peter.’
As soon as Peter entered the room, Monique was told to undress him. Although she had no choice but to obey she knew that Sophie would be furious when she found out. When Monique pulled down his mini briefs his erection sprang free, swollen and purple-headed.
The baron laughed. ‘Something seems to have put you in the mood already. Could it be young Nicola, I wonder?’ He gestured towards the monitor and then when he saw Peter’s expression, turned for another look himself.
Nicola was running her hands tentatively over her ribcage and stomach, letting her fingers wander slowly over her flesh and he could see that her breasts were definitely firmer than before, the dark nipples swelling even as he watched her.
Cassandra and Monique watched too. Monique had never seen anyone on the monitor before and found herself trembling with a strange excitement. It was the fact that Nicola didn’t know she was being watched that made it so erotic. After a few minutes Nicola’s hands strayed towards the undersides of her breasts, but then suddenly stopped and after a slight pause she rolled onto her side, facing one of the cameras, cushioning her cheek in her right hand and letting the left rest at her side again as she closed her eyes.
All four people in Cassandra’s bedroom let out an audible sigh of disappointment and the baron’s face was dark with thwarted pleasure.
‘Fetch the extender,’ he snapped at Cassandra. Monique tried unsuccessfully to stifle a whimper of fear as her mistress moved to the cupboard, but Peter looked delighted.
The baron seated himself on the side of the bed and placed the bolster across his thighs, then motioned for Monique to lie across it face down so that her head hung to the floor on one side of him while the tips of her toes just kept contact with the carpet on the other.
Her body trembled as the baron absent-mindedly squeezed her buttocks, while Peter pulled on the strapless penis extender handed to him by Cassandra. It was at least six inches long and a secure fit was ensured by pumping briefly on the attached air bulb. Once it was in place, Monique knew that Peter could keep going for as long as the baron ordered.
‘I think a little lubrication will be required,’ he said as he attempted to insert a finger into Monique’s tightly clenched anus. Within seconds Cassandra had handed him a tube of lubricating jelly complete with a long, thin screw-on plastic nozzle for application.
It was this that was first eased into the protesting maid’s back passage. She automatically tightened her rectum against the invader but only succeeded in drawing the nozzle in. Once it was in place the baron squeezed the tube and a cool jelly-like substance was forced around Monique’s rectal walls. She moaned in protest and Cassandra bent down to play with her breasts to distract her.
She rolled the nipples between her fingers and then extended them until the very tips began to draw inwards. This made Monique’s breasts ache while her stomach churned as the jelly irritated her sensitive inner tissue.
The baron ignored Monique’s muted protests. He withdrew the tube, parted the shaking buttocks and ordered her to push down. When she obeyed her rear entrance opened a little and Peter let the tip of his penis extender press against this opening. The tip was thick and Monique trembled even more violently.
‘Please, do not do this!’ she whimpered.
‘You asked to be punished,’ the baron reminded her. ‘Could it be that working here is no longer to your liking?’
As he’d expected her protests stopped immediately. Slowly Peter circled his hips, carefully opening her a little more as he eased his way in, but then the jelly covered the head and he found himself sliding in more rapidly than he’d intended until a frantic cry from the prostrate maid stopped him.
‘That will do,’ said the baron. ‘Now move back and forth briskly.’ Peter obeyed.
Cassandra sat on the floor, her face on a level with Monique’s and continued playing with her breasts, watching the maid’s eyes growing wide with the strange red-hot pain that she knew from experience would finally turn to addictive pleasure.
However, the baron delayed this moment. Whenever her body began to tense with rising sensations of pleasure, every time her leg muscles shook with anticipation of sweet release, he would get Peter to change his pace or make him withdraw, re-apply the jelly and force her through the initial intrusion again.
By the end even Cassandra felt sorry for the red-haired maid being forced to endure the ordeal for so long and she murmured words of comfort when tears of frustration and humiliation ran down Monique’s face.
Finally the baron tired of the punishment. He let Peter continue thrusting as Monique’s body began to gather itself into a tight knot, and just as the tearing pleasure spread through her whole pelvic area he slid a hand beneath her and rotated it over the top of her pubic mound so that her clitoris was stimulated as well.
Cassandra watched fascinated as Monique’s eyes glazed and then closed, her head went up and the tendons of her neck stretched tightly as she uttered a strange harsh cry of shaming dark satisfaction while her body heaved and the baron had to pinion her to the bolster with his hands.
As soon as she was still, Peter withdrew. The extension was taken away and at a sign from the baron he picked up the now limp form of the maid, placed her on the bed and within minutes was thrusting inside her vagina until he had obtained his own satisfaction. He found Monique’s submissive passiveness erotic when compared with Sophie’s more overt sexuality.
The baron didn’t even bother to watch them. Instead he went to Cassandra’s wardrobe and began to choose her outfit for dinner that night. When Peter and Monique had left swiftly and silently, he pulled the still nude Cassandra to him.
‘You want to come, don’t you?’ he whispered, seeing the need in her eyes.
She nodded, allowing herself to hope that he might allow her just one climax after all they’d watched.
He smiled his most innocent smile. ‘Good, then do as I ask and you shall have one as soon as dinner is over.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
The baron explained.