Discipline of the Private House (11 page)

The Chatelaine paused, as if aware that she was in danger of becoming carried away by her enthusiasm. 'I have a young woman here,' she went on, 'by the name of

Itomi. It was she and her partner who captured you. Itomi finds her greatest pleasure in the application of punishment to her bottom. She feels miserable if she is not spanked at least once a day; during a prolonged punishment she usually comes several times. My intention is that Olena will be taught to surpass Itomi. With your help I will ensure that not a thought will cross Olena's mind without it reminding her that she is sinful and deserving of chastisement. We will devise dozens of ways in which to torment her lovely body, and we will teach her to take pleasure in every one. Indeed, she will learn that pleasure comes only through the application of discipline. I assume that you will be happy to join this enterprise?'

Barat was dumbfounded. His intention had originally been simply to seduce Olena. Then, when he was appointed to be her guardian in the city, he had seen the opportunity to prolong the seduction, and to debauch Olena thoroughly - over a period of weeks, perhaps. The Chatelaine's ambitions took his breath away.

'Will I be able to see her?' Barat asked.

'Of course,' the Chatelaine replied. 'It will be necessary for you to be on hand to reprove her, to condemn her lechery. You will no doubt be obliged to witness certain of her punishments, as this will substantially increase her sense of shame. You will be able to shake your head sadly as the evidence of her arousal indicates that yet again, and even while being punished for her licentiousness, she has failed to live up to your expectations of her. As I have said, all you have to do is to obey me, and to remain resolutely disapproving of Olena.'

'I will do as you say, madame. And will I be allowed to have her?'

'You are incorrigible, Barat. You need to know your place. Nicole, stand in front of Barat. Face me. Lift your skirt and push your bottom out. Barat, you will lick Nicole's anus while I think about your request.'

Barat had barely time to think. In a second Nicole was standing in front of where he was kneeling. Her skirt was lifted, and Barat found his face almost touching the smooth skin of her slim buttocks. He registered that she was wearing no knickers. He had never been this close to a woman's bottom, still less had he been required to lick one. Nicole had placed her legs apart and had arched her back inwards, so that her buttocks were parted and were pushed towards his face. He could see the furry split purse of her sex and the crinkled pinky-brown hole of her anus. He could smell her excitement mingling with the scent of her perfume.

He couldn't resist touching. He lifted his hands and stroked the slim columns of Nicole's thighs, gliding his fingers up the sheer stockings and marvelling at the silkier, smoother sensation of touching the delicate skin above the stocking-tops.

'Don't touch,' Nicole snapped, and brushed away his hands with hers.

'Is he licking you, Nicole?' the Chatelaine said.

'Not yet, madame.'

'Really, Barat. Is this how you mean to obey me? Put your face between Nicole's buttocks now, and put your tongue up her arsehole. Or you can forget about Olena.'

Barat took a deep breath and plunged his face into the crack between the perfect ovals. Nicole responded by pushing her hips back to meet him. He was engulfed by her warmth, her smell, and the softness of her skin. He opened his mouth and pushed out his tongue. He tasted slippery, salty muskiness, and started to move his tongue in a circle.

'Too low,' Nicole said in a bored voice. 'Wrong hole.'

Barat pushed his face upwards. He could hardly breathe. His tongue encountered skin that was as delicate as moist silk voile; he pushed further, and his tongue was in a scalloped funnel that led to a tiny hole.

'That's better,' Nicole said. 'In fact, that feels very nice. Now start licking. Try to get your tongue right into the hole. That's what I like.'

'That's very good, Barat.' The Chatelaine's voice sounded very distant. 'Now, about Olena. Yes, I think you will be allowed to have her. Once she is sufficiently well trained. And as long as your behaviour remains satisfactory. In fact, I think it would be amusing if she were to be persuaded that she has to seduce you. You must maintain your grim and forbidding demeanour right to the end, so that she has to beg you to punish her and to let her pleasure you, so that you can see how sinful she is. That will be sweet, will it not, Barat?'

Barat could only nod his agreement, thereby eliciting a moan of pleasure from Nicole.

The naked woman looked just like Olena herself. She was lying on a sea of rumpled satin, luminous curves and mysterious shadows emerging from the surrounding darkness. She was staring up at Olena. Her arms were raised around her head; her hair was spilt wildly across the pillows; her breasts swelled lazily on either side of her ribcage; her legs were parted wantonly. Olena had awoken from a barely remembered but pleasurable dream to find herself looking down on her double.

No, that couldn't be right. Olena was in a bed; she was lying on her back. So the other woman must be above her, looking down at her. But that was impossible.

Drowsy and comfortable, Olena liked the idea of being stared at by a naked woman who looked just like her. But as she shook off the veils of sleep she realised that she should behave more modestly. She moved her arms to cover her breasts - as, at the same moment, did her double.

It was, of course, her own reflection. The ceiling above Olena's bed consisted of mirrored panels; Olena had been watching herself. With an 'Oh!' of exasperation and shame, Olena closed her legs and curled into a ball.

The bed was very comfortable. Olena supposed that the elders would have decreed it sinful. Which is ridiculous, Olena thought. How can furniture be sinful? The sheets and pillows were so soft. She could lie here forever in the semi-darkness, enjoying the warmth and softness.

She lifted her head to look about her, and remembered

A 
⁷

that after her meeting with Barat she had been taken by the maid, Nicole, not to her simple cell but to this more sumptuous bedchamber. She couldn't tell what time it was or how long she had slept; the shutters at the tall windows allowed in only a little daylight. She was sure she was still in the strange castle, though.

She stole another glance at the mirror above the bed and guiltily admired herself. She admonished herself for being immodest. It was wrong to take pride in her appearance. It had certainly been wrong to let Barat hold her. And as for allowing him to press her hand against his erect penis - well, it was simply wicked, and she knew that she needed correction. She smiled as she remembered Barat's embarrassment at appearing unclothed before her. He must have been so concerned at giving offence, when in fact she had found it difficult to avoid staring longingly at his naked limbs and torso. It had been all she could do to prevent herself leaping to embrace him and cover him with kisses. And she had stroked the hardness under his shorts. What would Barat say if he knew that, far from finding such things repulsive, Olena was eager to learn everything she could about Barat's body? She would have liked to extract his manhood from his shorts; to fondle it; to kiss it.

It was impossible. If Barat even suspected that she harboured such wicked thoughts, he would reject her. And that would be insupportable. But, she thought, he might simply punish her. He had threatened to give her a spanking, after all. Olena clenched her thighs together; the warm, tickly feeling was beginning again, down there between her legs. She had a sudden vision of lying across Barat's lap, his hand smacking hard on her bottom. And she would kneel in front of him, and thank him for punishing her, and promise to try harder to banish all her immoral thoughts. And she would show her gratitude by giving him a kiss, right on the end of his hard member.

Oh, it was all so hopeless! She didn't even know what a penis looked like. Her fantasy was ruined. And, in any case, it was absurd to think that Barat would remain her guardian once he had a suspicion of the depths of her wickedness. He was an upright man, favoured by the elders. He would find her disgusting.

She
was
disgusting. You can't tell by looking at me, she thought, staring up at her reflection, but inside I'm corrupt and evil. I have wicked feelings - more and more often, I'm sure - and I can't stop them. Sometimes I don't even want to stop them. What's wrong with me? I was always a dutiful daughter to my parents. I obeyed the elders. How can I have become so sinful?

'Olena! Breakfast!' It was Nicole's voice. The door opened and Nicole, bearing a tray, walked into the room.

Olena scrambled from the bed and, when she could find in the gloom nothing with which to cover herself, she stood in the corner furthest from the door with her legs pressed together and her arms cradling her breasts.

Nicole smiled widely and set the tray down on the dressing table. 'It's all right, Olena. Don't be shy. Come and eat. Orange juice, croissants, butter - all fresh.'

Olena moved cautiously into the room. 'Can I have some clothes?' she said. 'Just a robe, or something?'

Nicole shook her head. 'That's not allowed here in the Chateau. Perhaps later, when you've been here for a while. But no one wears very much. Look at me.'

It was true: Nicole's pinafore dress had a skirt that revealed the tops of her stockings, and a bodice that was so skimpy that it didn't entirely cover her breasts. As Olena approached, Nicole laughed and plucked up the hem of the skirt to reveal that she was wearing no knickers. Olena gasped, and felt her face reddening.

She looked away, and instinctively her hands flew to cover her own pubes.

'You must be a very naughty person,' Olena blurted.

Nicole giggled. 'Yes, I know,' she said.

Olena didn't think Nicole seemed at all contrite. She decided to change the subject. 'Is Barat still here? Is he all right?'

'Yes, he's here and he's very well. You will see him soon. Now, come and sit beside me on the bed. Let's have some breakfast together, and I'll tell you a little about this place and its rules. Then you can have a bath and make yourself ready for seeing Barat again. And some other people.'

Olena came to stand by the bed. Nicole brought the tray, placed it on the bed, and sat next to it. 'Come and sit next to me,' Nicole said. Til feed you. We're going to be friends.'

Nicole, with her short dark hair, sharp features and ready smile was definitely attractive. Olena thought that perhaps she and Nicole could be friends. She saw that Nicole made no attempt to conceal the fact that she was studying Olena's face and her body. Olena blushed again, but she also felt again the warmth growing between her thighs. She sat down on the bed, making sure that she was close enough to brush against Nicole accidentally.

I am becoming thoroughly wicked, she thought.

Robert was alone in the Chatelaine's study. He felt a little nervous, even though he was there on the Chatelaine's explicit instruction, because the study was one of the few rooms in the Chateau to which he did not have right of access.

Her scent was in the air: the delicate, floral perfume that once he had been privileged to watch her dab under her ears, between her breasts and at the tops of her thighs. He shook his head to clear the memories from his mind, marched to the windows, and pulled aside one of the heavy curtains to admit a dim shaft of daylight. He returned to the desk. He touched the handle of the three-tongued martinet that was lying on the dark wood; her fingers had gripped this instrument many times. Impulsively he picked up the martinet and kissed the handle. He felt his cock harden; he pressed the martinet against the soft leather of his trousers. With his other hand he touched the back of her chair. The leather-covered seat bore the impression of her slim buttocks. He lowered himself to his knees and pressed his forehead against the cool hide. He was as still as the books on their towering shelves; as silent as the dust motes drifting in the pale light.

Very few of the male staff at the Chateau had ever seen their mistress naked. Robert had been privileged indeed. Although the Chatelaine frequently amused herself with Nicole, Isabelle and any number of other women among the servants and guests, and although she had been known to have male slaves brought to her bedchamber, Robert was the only male servant she had invited to her bed.

She had instructed him to undress her. She had then applied perfume, and had allowed him to kiss her scented fingers. She had told him to remove all of his clothes but for his leather trousers, and then to fasten chains around her ankles and wrists. He had watched her buttocks sway as she had walked to the bedside cabinet; he had watched her breasts tremble as she had returned carrying the whip.

She had wanted to be whipped while standing, chained in an embrace with one of the stone pillars. He had flogged her buttocks until her cries for more had become raucous and unintelligible. When he had released her, she had turned, thanked him, and pressed her striped arse against the cold stone. 'Now do my tits,' she had said, lifting her arms above her head. He had obeyed.

When he had carried her to the bed, and entered her roughly, she had cried out again, and raked her nails across his back as they came together, suddenly and fiercely.

That had been the only time. The next day, and ever afterwards, she had treated him as she had before: as her loyal servant.