Stephanie's Castle (24 page)

A long picture
window had been cut in the solid stone and Stephanie could see the
view of the castle's walled gardens and orchards on the other side
of the island where she had been yesterday. The sun was still at
the front of the castle so most of the walled garden was in
shade.

At first this
office too appeared to be deserted. Stephanie was right in front of
the glass door now and suddenly heard Devlin's voice. It took her a
moment to realise that he must be sitting in the desk chair
swivelled around to face the window, its leather back completely
obscuring him from view.

Stephanie took
a deep breath and strode into the office.

'Everything's
organised,' Devlin was saying into the phone. 'It's all taken care
of. You can stop worrying. No problems, Bob. Check with the bank as
soon as they open. The money'll be there.'

'Put the phone
down,' Stephanie barked, surprised at how hard her voice
sounded.

Devlin swung
the chair round. He put his hand over the mouthpiece while his eyes
surveyed her body with obvious delight.

'Just a
minute...'

'Now!'
Stephanie commanded. In a fluid movement she brought the riding
crop down to slap across the desk. It missed Devlin's fingers by a
quarter of an inch. He put the phone down without a word.

'That's
better.'

'My darling,
you look magnificent. As always you surprise me. You are a most
remarkable woman.'

'I am not your
darling. Not after last night.'

'I know, I
know. I was just coming to talk to you about it. It was
unforgivable, unconscionable. I invited you here as my guest. I
hoped we'd have a wonderful weekend. But this thing with Gianni...
I was in terrible trouble, my dear.'

'I don't want
your excuses.'

'It's all over
now. I will make it up to you.'

'Shut up.'

'Anything,
Stephanie. My God, you look so wonderful...'

'Shut up, I
said!' The second blow of the crop hit Devlin squarely on the hand.
He yelped like a little dog. 'Come over here,' she said, indicating
a space in front of the desk.

Devlin got up
slowly; he seemed to realise that this was not some new game -
there was genuine anger in Stephanie's eyes. He rounded the desk
and stood in front of her. In the heels she was a foot taller than
him.

'Turn round,'
she ordered. He obeyed.

She'd kept her
left hand behind her back since she'd entered Devlin's office. She
hadn't wanted him to see the handcuffs she'd brought up from the
cellars.

'Put your
hands behind your back.'

Again he
obeyed. She quickly snapped the cold steel around his wrists, not
caring that he winced as she clamped them too tightly in place.

'That's
better.' Stephanie walked around the desk and slid into the
high-backed leather chair, putting her boots up on the desk and
rocking back in the chair.

'Very
comfortable. This is where you wheel and deal, is it? This is where
you get yourself into trouble. Venetia tells me Gianni paid quite a
high price for the privilege of using me. Is that right?'

'It wasn't
really like...'

'Is that
right?' Stephanie slapped the crop down on the desk again, making
Devlin flinch.

'Yes.'

'Good, because
I'm going to make you pay a high price too.'

The heels of
her boots were pointed straight at Devlin. Stephanie could see his
eyes furtively darting over her body, her long legs, the taut
suspenders, her half-exposed nipples and the diminutive crotch of
the G-string knickers which, she knew, did little to conceal the
thick pubic hair at the slit of her sex. She wanted him to see
it.

'You are very
beautiful,' he said tentatively.

'I don't want
to hear what you think. Keep your mouth shut.' Her voice was angry;
she felt cold and calculating. She was in control. She was going to
use her anger. If what had happened to her last night had not,
overall, been such a sensual experience, she would have felt very
differently. Her anger would have been hot and uncontrollable. As
it was, she could allow herself to feel just sufficient outrage to
make her anger at Devlin real and nasty, while at the same time
knowing what he had done to her was no more than an extension of
what she had allowed to happen, with her full consent, on Friday
night. She was certainly not going to tell Devlin that, not now and
maybe not ever. Now she was going to thoroughly enjoy the moral
high ground. With his hands cuffed behind his back and her high
heels giving her new authority she could enjoy the physical high
ground too.

'We're going down to the cellars,' she announced, swinging her
legs off the desk and getting up. She walked around the room poking
at the various
objets
d'art
, picking up the little pieces of
sculpture that served as Devlin's executive toys. 'You're going to
make sure Bruno doesn't interfere and then, Devlin, I'm going to
make you pay the price for treating me as if I was one of your
thieving little slaves. Because you don't seem to think there's any
difference, do you?'

Devlin did not
reply. Stephanie, who was a few feet behind him now, lashed out
with the crop. It caught him a stinging blow across the top of his
thighs and he cried out in pain.

'Do you?'

'No.'

'And there is
one other thing, Devlin. You are to take no action against Venetia.
She tried to help me last night and you punished her for it. Well,
I think she's entitled to a little revenge too, don't you?'

'I tried to
explain she's just a...'

'Don't you?'
Stephanie lashed the crop across his upper arm.

'Yes.'

'And then it
will be forgotten, won't it? Completely forgotten.' Devlin nodded.
'Say it!'

'It will be
forgotten.'

'That's
better.' She paused and walked over to the picture window, standing
with her back to Devlin, her legs apart. She knew he would be
staring at her arse, perfectly framed at the top by the black
leather of the basque, at the sides by the suspenders and at the
bottom by the thick black welts of the stocking tops. It would look
firm and tight, a ripe peach split in two by the leather thong of
the G-string.

'Well, I think
it's time to take a little walk now, Devlin.'

Stephanie
grabbed his tie, a very expensive Sulka silk tie which he would
never be able to wear again, and pulled Devlin forward like a dog
on a lead. He had to stoop forward as he walked, his head pulled
down by the tie. She led him out of the office, through the long
corridor and down into the cellars. As he walked she could not help
noticing the huge bulge in front of his dark blue cotton trousers.
She had certainly improved Devlin's ability to achieve spontaneous
erections since her arrival at the castle. She made sure he did not
see her smile.

In the cellars
Venetia had been busy. Though most of the slave cells were small,
the two at the far end of the brick-vaulted corridor, the end that
contained the cellar suite, were slightly bigger - big enough, at
least, for Stephanie's plan. Using the authority Devlin had given
her over the years and which Bruno had never failed to recognise
without question Venetia had ordered Bruno to assemble all the
slaves in one of the larger cells. There were nine now that Colette
had gone, not including the masked man. He was left in his cell.
Stephanie and Venetia had very special plans for him.

Bruno opened
each cell in turn, unlocked the ankle chain from the ring in the
floor of the cell and led the slave to the larger chamber. Instead
of having all the chains locked to the ring in the floor of that
cell, Bruno merely locked the chain of one slave to the ankle-cuff
of another so that only the original inhabitant of the larger cell
was secured to the floor ring. All the others were secured to him
in line. During their time at the castle none of the slaves had
experienced any manoeuvres of this sort, but knowing Bruno's
attitude to unsolicited conversation and seeing his whip hanging as
ever at his side, none of them broke the silence.

It had taken
some time to accomplish the rearrangement. Bruno was still
attaching the last chain when Stephanie knocked at the outer door
and Venetia let her in.

'Everything
ready?' Stephanie asked, pulling Devlin forward by the tie.

'Bruno's just
doing the last one.'

'Well Devlin
has been very understanding. You're free to help me. Then it'll be
forgotten. Right, Devlin?'

'Yes.
Absolutely.'

'This way.'
Stephanie pulled on the tie again and Devlin followed her down to
the end of the corridor. Bruno had finished his labours and was
tucking the key ring back into his belt. He looked puzzled when he
saw Devlin's position, hands cuffed behind his back, pulled along
by his tie.

'Say it,'
Stephanie prompted.

'You can go,
Bruno,' Devlin muttered. 'Take some time off.'

'Out of the
cellars,' she prompted again.

'Out of the
cellars,' Devlin repeated.

Bruno looked
uncertain. Stephanie picked the bunch of keys from his belt.
Instantly his hand flew out and caught her by the wrist in a
vicelike grip.

'Devlin...'
she said, unable to break the grip by herself.

'Give her the
keys, Bruno,' he said. 'Then go. It's all right. Just go.'

Stephanie
could see Bruno trying to work out what he should do. Suddenly he
released her wrist, emitted an audible grunt of displeasure, the
first noise Stephanie had heard him make, and, with obvious
reluctance, sloped off down the corridor. When he reached the main
door he looked back as if expecting Devlin to change his mind. As
Devlin remained silent he swung the heavy door open and made his
exit, slamming it shut after him. The noise echoed through the
cellars. Venetia quickly bolted the door from the inside.

'Now it's just
us, Devlin. No one to help you.'

Pulling on his
tie again Stephanie led him into the far cell. The assembled slaves
did not react to the sight of their master being led in like a dog.
Most of them had been at the castle long enough to know that
anything could happen. To them it was just another game, probably
devised by the master himself, in which no doubt their collective
role would be, as it always was ultimately in the cellars, a form
of punishment.

When Devlin
reached the centre of the room Stephanie dropped the tie.

'Take your
clothes off,' she ordered.

'I can't,'
Devlin said.

'Why not?'
Stephanie demanded. She reached forward, flicked open the top
button of his trousers and pulled the zip of his flies, with some
difficulty, over the bulge of his erection which had been
maintained all the way down from the offices. The trousers fell to
his ankles. His white boxer shorts were not able to contain the
length of his cock and it poked out from the vent in the front.
'Why not? Stephanie repeated, sending a swinging cut from the whip
to land on the side of Devlin's bare thigh.

With
difficulty he managed to hook his fingers into the elastic at the
waist of the boxer shorts at the back and pull them down to his
knees. Then he shook his legs until they fell around his ankles, on
top of his trousers. His shirttails hid his buttocks but at the
front his erection jutted up unencumbered.

'Come on,'
Stephanie goaded him, tapping him with the crop on the back of his
knee. The slaves watched impassively as Devlin tried to get his
feet extracted from his trousers and shorts without the help of his
hands and while still wearing shoes. It was not a dignified
exercise but after much effort he managed it. He stood in shirt,
shoes and socks.

Stephanie
looked at the slaves for their reaction but if she was expecting
them to be showing their amusement she was disappointed. None of
them wanted to give Devlin reason for punishments later. Among the
faces she recognised Norman, the Rubenesque woman whom she and
Devlin had used the first morning, and the stocky man she had used
in turn. The two men from her first night at the castle were there
too, the only other men among the slaves. The rest were women. As
was the practice in the cells the women were all naked, the men
naked but for the hard leather pouches locked around their
genitals.

Venetia had
found a large pair of scissors and was cheerfully cutting off
Devlin's expensive handmade shirt. She cut all the way up the back
and through the collar until the shirt fell away in two pieces. She
slit the sleeves, each in turn, until the pieces fell away from his
arms. Then she knelt by his feet and, as he stood precariously on
one foot, unable to use his arms for balance, she slipped off his
shoes and socks. Devlin was naked, his massive erection quivering
in front of him.

'On your
knees, then,' Stephanie commanded, bringing the crop down hard on
his left buttock, making him yelp. He got to his knees again,
finding this difficult without the use of his arms. 'Now this is
your first lesson. I want you to tell them how sorry you are for
the way you treated me. You are sorry, aren't you?'

'Yes.'

'Say it,
then.'

'I'm very
sorry for the way I treated you.'

'You don't
sound very sorry,' Stephanie said.

'I am very
sorry,' he repeated, trying to sound more penitent.

'How did you
treat me, Devlin?'

'I don't
understand.' He looked puzzled.

'You treated
me appallingly, didn't you?' She lashed out with the whip, hitting
him squarely on his naked buttocks.

'Oh yes, yes.
Appallingly,' he said quickly.

'Now everyone
in this room is going to use the crop on you.' As Stephanie said it
she heard a murmur from the slaves. 'They are going to remember how
they have been abused by you and they are, for once, going to be
allowed to get their own back. And you will take no action against
them later. Is that understood?'