Discipline of the Private House (29 page)

'Now that Robert has joined us,' the Chatelaine said at last, T will ask you once again, Barat, whether you observed anything significant in the behaviour of the new whipping-slave - the erstwhile Supreme Mistress -while you were entrusted with the task of observing her this morning.'

'Madame,' Barat replied, clearly making every effort to control his emotions, 'as I have already reported to you, the significant events I observed this morning relate to my ward, Olena.' His voice rose in tone and volume. 'I was given certain assurances about her. I was told that I would be present when she was allowed to have her first climax. I was told that I would be punishing her when she was brought to orgasm for the first time. I must protest. I feel I have been treated unfairly. I -'

'Be silent, Barat!' the Chatelaine shouted. 'I find it hard to discern whether you are obsessed more with Olena or with yourself. But you are in my Chateau and you must understand that neither you nor Olena can be my principle concern.' She took a deep breath. 'You will be punished shortly,' she said, and immediately felt a little calmer. 'I agree that it is significant that Olena has achieved her first orgasm other than under our supervision. However, the damage is not irreparable, and she remains the most promising recruit I have seen. Her training will continue, and you will be permitted to remain involved - if you can learn to restrain your outbursts of self-importance and self-pity. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, madame,' Barat muttered.

The Chatelaine sighed. 'Very good. Isabelle, go and prepare the water closet for Barat's punishment. I'll need a rubber suit for Barat, and a cane and a strap. Oh, and

I'd like you to wear the rubber incontinence pants - the large size, with the front opening.'

Isabelle raised her eyebrows, but made no comment before leaving the study. Barat, the Chatelaine noticed, was suddenly looking both worried and decidedly excited.

The Chatelaine turned to look down at her kneeling deputy. 'Now, Robert,' she said, 'have you had time to reach a more considered opinion?'

Robert frowned. 'With respect, madame,' he began, and the Chatelaine knew at once that Robert was going to prove as obstinate as Barat, 'with respect, I submit that we have enough evidence that the dirty little whore-slave is in breach of the terms of her wager. She is yours, madame. You have only to claim her. And the Private House will fall to you, by right of seniority and of victory.'

Sometimes, the Chatelaine thought, a servant can be too loyal and too dedicated.

'I disagree, Robert. And I am your mistress. Listen: we do not know that Jem - the whore-slave - defied our instructions in the matter of remaining chained throughout the night. Barat says he cannot be sure. We do not know that she reached a climax without permission; Barat is sure that Olena reached orgasm, but he was, apparently, unable to pay attention to both women. It is true that the whore-slave performed acts with Olena that she had not been instructed to perform and that we all would rather she had not performed. But the acts were not specifically forbidden, either. The High Council will not, I assure you, accept hearsay evidence and accusations of half-crimes. The former Supreme Mistress has many allies still on the Council, and if we are to succeed in keeping her here as my slave then we must have a conclusive case against her. Is that understood?'

Robert nodded. He seemed to the Chatelaine to be not at all contrite. 'Yes, madame,' he said. Til make it my sole objective to break hfr. I'll give you the proof you need. I'll bring the filthy slut to you begging for mercy. I guarantee that she'll be unable to submit willingly to the torments I've devised for her.'

'Yes, Robert,' the Chatelaine said. 'Very good. I'm sure you're right. I suggest you leave her to the kitchen-slaves, however, for this morning. There will be other opportunities for you to supervise her tests personally, and you must not forget your other duties in the Chateau.'

Robert was about to protest but the Chatelaine raised a warning finger, and he nodded his acquiescence.

The Chatelaine sat back in her chair. She looked from Barat to Robert, and back again. They were both so enthusiastic and single-minded. Admirable qualities, no doubt, she thought, but of negligible value compared with discipline and obedience.

'You may go, Robert,' she said. 'Barat, you will come with me. You deserve punishment, and you are about to receive it.'

Olena was beginning to loathe her robe. Once again, Nicole had brought it and had insisted that Olena wear it while Nicole led her from her dungeon cell and through the labyrinthine corridors of the Chateau. The robe marked Olena out from everyone else; it should have ensured her modesty, but instead it made her feel conspicuous. Each person they met stared at her. They all know, she thought, that I'm failing every test I take, and that I'm on the way to receive the first of the chastisements that I will now receive daily.

And the worst of it was that Olena knew that her body, beneath the demure covering of the* robe, was already betraying her. She couldn't erase from her mind the memories of the disgraceful things she had done with Jem, and the wonderful, overwhelming sensations that had swept through her, again and again, as they had embraced under the cascading water.

It was wrong; it was sinful. The more she thought about the pleasure she had experienced, the more she trembled and felt sick with guilt. And the more she wanted to experience again the transcendent delights of orgasm.

Looking ahead, to the future, was no more use than dwelling on memories. She was being led towards a punishment; she would display her body, and Barat and Nicole, and perhaps the sinister Master Robert, would pass comment on her lewdness as the smacking on her bottom made her more and more lubricious. The prospect made her heart sink, but she could feel that her body was already responding; just the thought of offering her bottom for inspection and a whipping was making her feel hot and moist. She wondered whether it would be possible for her to receive enough punishments to remedy her wickedness; she realised, with a shock that merely added to the cloud of shame that surrounded her, that the prospect of endless punishments was more attractive than that of returning to righteousness.

And concentrating strictly on the present brought no relief from lewd thoughts. The dimly lit, carpet-muffled corridors, with their closed doors and outlandishly clothed denizens, served only to remind Olena that she was in a realm where punishment and pleasure were intertwined; behind each closed door her imagination conjured scenes of such depravity that she was appalled at herself. The rough material of her robe rubbed against her breasts and her bottom as she walked. Nicole's costume seemed today to be skimpier than ever, and as Olena followed her she found herself watching for the moments when Nicole's movements caused the hem of her tiny, stiff skirt to lift at the back and reveal, between black skirt and black stocking-tops, the smooth, pert mounds of Nicole's bottom.

Nicole turned to the left and began to ascend a flight of stairs. Only a few steps up, however, she stopped, and cocked her head as if wondering whether she had taken the correct route. She clasped her hands in front of her as she thought, and the hem of her tiny skirt rose at the back. At the bottom of the staircase Olena was presented with a perfect view of Nicole's buttocks, and could see the delicate folds of skin between her legs. She wondered whether Nicole was as wet there as she was, and whether Nicole liked to feel hands smacking down on her bottom.

When at last she looked up to see whether Nicole had made a decision about which direction to take, she found that Nicole was looking over her shoulder at Olena, and had a knowing smile on her face. Olena felt her face glowing as she blushed furiously.

'I don't mind you looking at me,' Nicole said. 'Although I suppose it's just more evidence that you're very naughty. I'll have to tell Robert. But you can touch, if you like.'

She returned to the foot of the stairs. 'That's the wrong way. We should continue along the corridor. And if you walk beside me you can touch my bottom as we go. Like this.' Nicole took Olena's hand and held it against her left buttock.

Olena was too shocked to withdraw her hand. Nicole's buttock was small, and fitted into Olena's palm. As Nicole walked it moved in Olena's grasp in a way that Olena found disturbingly delightful. Nicole and Jem were of a similar height and build, and holding Nicole's bottom reminded Olena yet again of the wonderful night she had just spent with Jem. She remembered her first sight of Jem's bottom, reddened and marked with stripes.

'Nicole,' she said, 'I hope you don't mind me asking you, but do you like to have your bottom smacked?'

Nicole laughed, and Olena felt the tremor in the warm, smooth globe pressed against her palm. 'But of course,' Nicole replied. 'I would not be here in the Chateau if it were otherwise. Of course, sometimes it gives more pleasure, sometimes less. It depends on my mood, and on who is smacking me. Perhaps you would like to spank me, one day, when your training is finished?'

Olena hardly dared to speak. 'Yes, I'd like to,' she breathed. 'Would we kiss and cuddle afterwards?'

Nicole leaned towards Olena and nuzzled her neck. 'Oh, yes,' she said, and kissed Olena. 'Now,' she added, briskly, 'we've arrived at the punishment room. Enter, and remove your robe.'

Olena stepped into the room. As she pulled the robe over her head she felt a sinful satisfaction that soon her shapely body would be on display again, and an even more wicked excitement at the thought of being smacked. She determined that she would try to make Barat understand that today she needed lengthy and severe punishment.

She couldn't estimate the size of the room, as the edges and corners were cloaked in darkness. The only illumination was a flickering light that could be seen in the gaps between several large panels that had been set up to create an enclosure within the room.

Nicole led Olena towards the circle of panels and through one of the gaps between them. The light came from dozens of candles, some on tall candelabra and others simply set on the floor, which surrounded the only item of furniture: a chaise longue, covered in red velvet.

The panels, Olena saw at once, were large mirrors, all facing inwards. The candlelight was reflected back and forth in them to create a soft, golden, shimmering illumination within the enclosed space. Olena saw herself reflected wherever she looked; her coffee-coloured skin seemed to glow in the light, and the curves of her hips and breasts and buttocks were gilded. Her eyes shone; her lips were slightly parted; her dark hair appeared to be threaded with gold. She knew that she was desirable; that men and women could not help but admire her and want her, simply because of the curves of her body, and the lustre of her hair, and the look of anticipation on her wide-eyed face. She knew it was wrong to engender such feelings in other people, but she could not help it. She felt perversely proud of her curvaceous, golden form, even though she knew that to feel such pride damned her.

There was another person standing within the circle of mirrors: a man, naked but for a leather harness. But it was not Barat or Master Robert.

Olena turned as Nicole entered the enclosure. 'Where's Barat?' she said. She feared that without his reassuring presence she would be unable to retain even the most tenuous grasp on the teachings of the community elders. And, she realised, she liked to feel his eyes on her body as she was being smacked.

'Barat has other duties to attend to this morning,' Nicole said. 'Don't worry: he's still here in the Chateau.' She gestured towards the harnessed man, who dropped to his knees and bowed his head towards Nicole. This slave will assist me to punish you. His name is Bernard. I think it will be instructive for you to be chastised in front of one of the slaves. Are you ready to begin?'

Olena tried to calm her racing heart. The slave Bernard was an attractive young man: his body was slim and looked hard, and Olena found herself comparing it with Barat's. He was tall, with dark hair. His face was lean, but his lips were surprisingly full, like a woman's. Like many of the slaves, both male and female, whom Olena had seen in the corridors, Bernard had metal attachments glinting on his chest; in fact, she realised, he had metal rings that appeared to pass through his nipples.

She pictured herself kneeling on the chaise longue, reflected from all angles in the mirrors, with Bernard's eyes on her. It was breathtakingly exciting.

'Yes, Nicole,' she said, 'I'm ready. Would you like me to kneel on the couch?'

'Not yet,' Nicole replied. 'Kneel here, on the floor in front of me. That's right. Now lower your head, like a slave. I think you should learn to ask politely for your daily punishments.'

Olena obeyed willingly. She deserved chastisement more severe than any she would receive at Nicole's hands, and it was only proper that she should be obliged to acknowledge the extent of her crimes.

'Please punish me, Nicole,' she said firmly. 'I know that there seems to be no end to my wickedness, but with sufficient punishment I hope to have instilled in me the discipline I need to resist temptations and impure thoughts. Please smack me hard, and for a long time.'

And then please touch me between my legs, she added in her thoughts, because I'm sure that I would experience another of those endless moments that feel so wonderful I think I'm dying.

'Very well,' Nicole said, 'and now you can kneel on the couch. At this end, please, so that you can lean against the back. Remember to open your legs very wide, and push out
your
chest. If I permit it, Bernard will be able to admire
your
breasts and see your genitalia.'