Stephanie's Castle (17 page)

It was her
orgasm that woke her up. This was not the orgasm of pure sensation
that she had had in her dream. This was hot and strong and real. It
made her arch her back with pleasure, every nerve alive. It made
her want to wake up and open her eyes. But she was already awake
and her eyes were already open. It was not a dream after all. It
was reality, though with no sharp edges, blurred and indistinct
like a picture photographed through layers of gauze.

She tried to
force herself back into full consciousness but it was like trying
to fight her way out of a room filled with cotton wool. She tried
to move her hands but something prevented her. She twisted her head
around and saw her wrists were secured above her head by padded
leather cuffs attached to either side of a sturdy wooden frame. As
she could not move her legs either and they were splayed apart, she
imagined they were tied in a similar manner but, as yet, the edges
of consciousness were still too blurred for her to see that far.
The padded leather cuffs stirred a memory. She had seen them and
felt them before. But where?

A wave of
tiredness hit her again. She closed her eyes and for a moment
almost let herself surrender to the woolly darkness that appeared
so inviting. But from somewhere she found the energy to fight
against it and struggled to raise her eyelids again even though
they each felt weighed down by several leaden balloons. She had to
keep awake and work out where she was and what was happening to
her. She could hear voices now.

'She's awake.'
It was Devlin. His voice sounded tense and distant.

'I want her
awake.'

'See for
yourself.'

Suddenly
Gianni's face appeared above Stephanie. Quite extraordinarily it
provoked a rush of passion in her. Her dream had been so erotic, so
tangible and so totally associated in her mind with this man that
she could not stop herself from being swamped with a feeling of
desire for him. Her subconscious had laid out for her a perfect
presentation of her sexual needs. It was a total reversal. She
remembered that this had happened to her once before: a man she had
strongly disliked had become an object of passion after she had
experienced the female equivalent of a wet dream with the man as
the main participant.

'OK,' Gianni
was saying. She saw his lips move but the words seemed to come
later, like a movie dubbed into a foreign language.

'So you've got
what you want.'

'Yes, my
friend, and in exchange I have given you what you want, so we both
have satisfaction.'

'You won't
regret it.'

'I know
that.'

The gauze was
being removed from the lens of the camera. The picture was
clearing, shapes no longer merging into blocks of colour. Stephanie
could distinguish edges now, though some of the corners remained
indistinct.

She looked
around to try and see where Devlin was but she could not raise her
head up off the frame by more than a few inches bound as she was.
She recognised the room as part of the cellar suite, the room
furnished with all the bondage equipment. She had been strapped
down to one of the punishment frames about the size of a small
double bed, a slatted wooden frame covered with a thin mattress.
She was naked except for her sheer black stockings held up by her
dark blue suspender belt. For some reason, as she could see and
feel her feet now, she was still wearing her high-heeled shoes.

She felt no
fear or panic. She knew she must have been drugged and brought down
here. Actually she wanted to tell Gianni that as far as she was
concerned her feelings for him had undergone a drastic change. She
wanted him. She would only be too delighted to have him. She wanted
the dream to become a reality, wanted to know whether her
subconscious was right to transpose villain to favourite. The
trouble was that she couldn't seem to form any words. It was some
minutes before she had worked out that she was gagged as well as
bound.

'Wake up!'
Gianni was saying, taking her cheeks in his hand and shaking her
head. She'd thought her eyes were open. Admittedly it was not
always easy to focus them. That required a little too much effort
at the moment. She knew Gianni was naked because she could feel his
erect penis prodding her waist as he leant over her. She felt
excitement again, wanting his penis in her cunt or mouth. She
remembered her distaste for him, how badly he'd behaved but now she
didn't care. Now nothing mattered but her desire.

'Now I give
you what you want,' Gianni said and Stephanie only wanted to say,
please, please do, please give it to me now. He took her left
nipple in his fingers and pinched it, then did the same with the
right, then alternated between the two. Stephanie felt his penis
twitch against her waist, growing harder. He ran his hand down her
body until it reached her black pubic hair where it delved down to
find her clitoris.

'Yes, yes,'
she wanted to say.

'Such a big
one,' Gianni said, tapping the knot of pink flesh with his
finger.

Then he slipped his finger down between her open legs to push
up between her labia. But his fingers met resistance. Stephanie was
dry. She could not imagine why. She wanted him totally. She
felt
wet, she wanted to be
wet. She wanted to make it easy for him to slide that wonderful
cock deep into her as he had already done in her imagination.
Instead she was dry. Rationally she knew it was probably a side
effect of the drug. She was sure if he just rubbed her clitoris for
a little longer her cunt would soon reward his
persistence.

But Gianni was
in no mood to be patient. Stephanie's dryness was another slap in
the face of his masculinity. He was furious.

'What's the
matter with you? You not like men?'

He got up on
to the wooden frame and lay on top of her, pushing his penis
between her labia where his fingers had been. He caught one of her
breasts in his hand and squeezed it then pushed forward again with
his cock. Still her body refused to lubricate.

'OK. I give
you what you like. I know how you get hot.' He climbed off the
frame. After a moment he was holding something in front of
Stephanie's face but not long enough for her to get her eyes to
focus on it.

'See this?
This is what you like.'

She wanted to
tell him to work on her, to make her wet, that her body was
betraying her because of the drug. She managed to produce a moan
through the gag and struggle a little up towards him, but he
misinterpreted her message.

'You don't get
away from this,' he said.

'Let me wank
her again.' It was a female voice. Stephanie recognised it but
could not think who it belonged to. She looked around the room as
far as she was able but could not see anyone else but Bruno
standing by the wall, his arms folded over his chest, and Devlin
standing by her feet.

'It didn't
work last time.'

That was true,
Stephanie thought. How could she be so dry after that delicious
orgasm? Her body was concealing her emotions though, she thought,
somewhere in the back of her mind, it served them right for
drugging her.

'Not that
whip. It'll cut her,' the female voice was saying pointedly.

That was
enough to get Stephanie to focus on the object in Gianni's hand. It
was a riding crop but not with the usual thick leather loop on the
tip. This crop had a thin woven tassel obviously intended to cut
rather than merely slap.

'Get out,'
Gianni snarled at the hidden woman.

'I'll get her
wet this time,' the voice pleaded.

'I do what I
want,' Gianni insisted.

Gianni swung
the whip and a hot line of pain shot across the top of Stephanie's
thigh. The injection of adrenaline that followed instantaneously
cleared the remnants of the drug from her system. She saw Gianni's
hand rise to deliver the second blow and struggled to free herself
as the whip flew through the air and down on to her breasts, barely
missing her nipples.

'I give what
she deserves,' Gianni grunted as he aimed the third blow. Stephanie
could see him clearly now, his erect penis swaying with the
movement of his body, sweat already breaking out on his forehead.
She could see Devlin too, at the end of the room, not able to watch
what was happening. The third stroke landed in the same place as
the first and this time the pain made Stephanie scream into the
gag. Only a muffled moan came out. She writhed against the leather
straps but they held firm.

Gianni was
standing by her head now. Stephanie could see his naked buttocks as
he raised the whip again, this time aiming it downward to hit the
delicate folds of flesh between her open legs.

'No,' the
woman's voice shouted. She leapt forward and caught Gianni's arm
wrestling the whip from his grasp. 'You can't whip a woman
there.'

'Give me the
whip. I do what I want.'

He tried to
pull the whip out of her hand but she held it firm. With her free
hand she slapped Gianni's face so hard the blow knocked him to his
knees. Before he could recover she slapped him backhanded on the
other cheek. The smack echoed through the room.

'You bitch,'
Gianni snarled, getting to his feet. He snatched for the whip again
but the woman backed away. She had stepped into Stephanie's line of
vision now and she saw immediately why she had recognised the
voice. It was Venetia. She stood defiantly in front of Gianni,
dressed in high-heeled black boots and a black Lycra catsuit that
clung to every curve of her body.

'Give it to
him, Venetia,' Devlin ordered, his voice hard and angry.

But before she
could refuse Bruno stepped forward and pulled the whip from her
hand, giving it back to Gianni. Then he caught Venetia around the
waist and held her firm in a vicelike grip. Gianni raised the whip
again and aimed. It hit Stephanie a glancing blow, missing her
clitoris and labia and hitting the soft flesh at the top of her
inner thigh. The pain was intense.

Gianni's penis
was thick and harder than it had ever been.

'You want
more?' he said, staring down into Stephanie's face. She shook her
head as best she could, trying to make him understand with her eyes
what she could not tell him with her lips. She hoped her cunt would
tell him, hoped it was wet and pliant at last. She did not want
another blow from the cruel whip while she lay there unable to
protect herself or do anything but watch the whip fall.

Gianni thrust
a finger into her. She was wet. He was not interested in finesse
now. He stuck another finger alongside the first, and then a third.
The penetration made her shudder. Her cunt swallowed the fingers
hungrily, coating them with her juices.

'That's
better,' Gianni said.

That's better,
Stephanie thought.

The whip marks
on her body were throbbing and hot, as if they were on fire,
especially the one on her inner thigh, not an inch away from her
open cunt. But they were not throbbing with pain. It was a
different sensation. The heat they produced was like the most
urgent itch needing desperately to be scratched, scratched by sex,
by Gianni's cock thrusting into her cunt. Only that would quench
their fire.

Stephanie
arched her whole body off the frame to try to tell Gianni of her
need, using it to beg him to take her. 'Please, please, please,'
she wanted to say.

Her cunt had
never felt more in need. Her mouth felt slack, her breathing slow
and heavy. The gag wasn't helping either; it reminded her too much
of a cock thrust between her cheeks. She sucked on it as though it
were a cock and that made her need still greater.

Gianni was
smiling. He understood. Her body had delivered the message at last.
He saw the desire in her eyes. It was a message he easily
understood.

'I make you
wait now,' he said looking into her eyes. 'You made me wait. I make
you wait.'

He circled his
cock with his fingers and pointed it at her face, wanking it
slowly.

'Perhaps I
wank on your face instead,' he teased.

Stephanie
screamed into the gag what was meant to be 'No!' Only a dull moan
escaped. Stephanie needed that hot spunk inside her, the way it had
been inside her in the dream. The idea of it going to waste was
more than she could stand. She squirmed against her bonds, trying
to be seductive, trying to make him see what he would be
missing.

He looked down
at her superb body stretched out on the frame, the black stockings
pulling at the taut blue tongues of the suspender belt, serving to
emphasise the creaminess of her thighs and the openness of her
cunt, her firm breasts quivering with her movement, the nipples
rigid like ripe cherries and almost as red. While he still wanked
his cock with one hand, he used the other to touch the red weals
raised by the whip on her breasts and thigh. Stephanie moaned from
behind the gag. The weals were hot, long red streaks of
sensitivity. His cool hand provoked them, renewing their effect on
her, stoking their fires, making her try again to use body language
to communicate her desperate need.

Gianni knew
what he was doing. He ran his hand down to the weal between her
thighs, the most sensitive mark of all. It felt to Stephanie as
though she suddenly had another clitoris as all the nerves in the
weal responded to his touch.

'You bastard,'
she would have screamed. 'Fuck me, don't torture me.'

But all she
could do was beg with her body and her eyes.

Almost
unconsciously she was thrusting herself rhythmically off the wooden
frame, undulating her buttocks and thighs. Gianni grinned broadly.
He climbed on to the frame and knelt, not between her legs but over
her chest, her nipples digging into the bottom of his thighs.

'I wank for
you,' he said.