Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Enslaved Chapter 39 free porn video
It was a rather sombre Quentin who was greeted by Rosalie and Havers late that evening.
“I am afraid I have some sad news for you,” he said. The pair were both suddenly tensely apprehensive. Were their services about to be dispensed with?
“Glenda... my wife... has met with an accident...”
“Oh dear... how awful!” said Rosalie and Havers together. But secretly you could see they were pleased the news did not affect them. “A fatal accident,” continued Quentin. “In a friend’s automobile.”
“Oh dear... oh dear...” they said again. Quentin sat down and Rosalie solicitously brought him a glass of brandy. He was putting on quite a show of grief but, actually, Glenda’s demise had left him fairly unperturbed. He had never pretended to be ‘in love’ with her. They had been brought together by mutual interests. By similar perversions. By business agreements. It was more like losing an office partner than anything.
“Everything all right here?” he asked, after a decent pause.
“Fine... Boss...” said Havers quickly. He raised a warning hand to Rosalie. It did not seem an appropriate time to tell Quentin about the various ‘games’ they had dreamed up.
“Good... good...” nodded Quentin. “Well... I’m a bit done in after my journey. And everything. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“It’s all ready for you, Mr Osman,” said Rosalie. She was quick to get back into her serving role. She hoped very much that she would still be wanted, even though Glenda was no longer with them. You never know, she said to herself, Quentin might get married again!
“Thanks,” said Quentin. “Oh... and Havers... send one or the other up to me in the morning. About nine o’clock will do.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” A rather short period of mourning, thought Havers, with an inner grin. Still he would probably have got the same order if Glenda had been there. The couple had been broadminded, to say the least!
Morning came. Havers descended to the cellar quarters. Julia and Melissa adopted their obligatory submissive posture... and were carefully examined. There was not a mark on them. Havers was pleased, and yet again marvelled at the efficiency of the Treatment.
“OK, stand up...” The girls stood up. Looking meek and humble. Yet they were tense.
“Well,” smiled Havers, “which one of you is going to be the lucky one to welcome the Master home?” Havers spun a coin.
“Call, Melissa,” he said.
“Heads,” said Melissa forlornly. Havers looked at the coin.
“Wrong,” he said. “Off you go, Julia. You’ll find the cellar door unlocked and your Master in the main bedroom.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said Julia. She bobbed a little breast-quivering curtsey before turning to go. Havers grinned at Melissa as he unbuckled his belt.
“It’s alright, Melissa,” he said, “you’re going to have a treat too. Get on the bed, girlie, I think I’ll have you on top of me again. You’re good at that.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said Melissa, just as Julia had done. The trousers and pants were dropped; the thick, stubby penis, still f laccid, was exposed. Melissa wriggled her bottom as provocatively as she could as she got on to the bed.
“But I think you might have to suck me a little first.”
“Yes... Sir... thank you, Sir...” Havers lay back with his shirt pulled up. Melissa went down between his thighs. In moments, Havers’ penis was in the girl’s warm-wet mouth and she had begun to suck in her usual expert fashion. Eyes closing, Havers sighed contentedly.
Meanwhile, above in the bedroom, Julia was equally being made use of. Deliberately, Quentin said nothing when Julia entered and knelt submissively. He simply pulled back the bedclothes and showed her the solid hard he had woken up with. Getting on for a week’s abstinence had made him feel more than usually randy. Still in silence, he lumbered out of bed, pulled Julia across the room by her hair and more or less threw her face down over a dressing table stool. Then he knelt, seized the fronts of her thighs and pulled them wide, then, with a piggish grunt, rammed in to the depths. Oh that felt lovely! Oh it was good to be back! Quentin fucked the squirming Julia hard and faster, his breath rasping, his fat belly pounding and pounding on her soft buttocks. He knew he couldn’t last long... and didn’t care. He could enjoy the girl in a more leisurely fashion a little later on... Snort... snort...
“Ugh... hhaagghh... uuggh... hhaagghh...” Saliva began to run from one corner of Quentin’s mouth. Snort... snort... snort...
“Hhhaaaaghhh... hhhhaaaa... hhhhaaaa...” His jowls were all a-quiver. Then the flesh of his thighs and his juddering rump.
“HHHHAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!” The lust spurted violently. Again... and again... Again and again and again... All the time Quentin kept his right grip on Julia’s thighs, his belly still pounding her co-operatively jerking and wriggling bottom... Then, finally, still buried in her, Quentin slumped down... panting... wet-mouthed... eyes a little glazed. That had been good... Very good indeed... Just what he had wanted... and how he had wanted it... The girl sent for, the erection ready. The girl unceremoniously dragged into position, with not a word said. The girl’s thighs pulled apart. The girl fucked. Fucked hard and strong! Used! A faint grin flickered over Quentin’s face. Her arse might as well have been a soft pumpkin with a hole in it for all consideration he’d given her! Yes, most excellent!
“Ah... that’s better,” announced Quentin, suddenly withdrawing. He got up and shambled into the bathroom and turned on warm shower. Julia, needless to say, remained precisely where she was. For, of course, she had received no orders to do otherwise!
An hour or so later, Quentin was in his study and summoned both Rosalie and Havers to join him. In turn, they gave an account of what had been happening... Havers only omitting the session with the yokes. However, he did tell Quentin they were ready and suggested they be put quickly to use. They needed some of the stores urgently.
“I’ll deal with that this afternoon,” said Quentin. While in New York, he had bought himself an old-fashioned horse-whip. It had a long, slim cane handle to which was attached an equally long piece of cord. A cord with half a dozen small knots at its end. It would sting quite adequately, he reckoned, without doing a great deal of harm.
“What about a cart?” he asked.
“I’ve got that ready Boss,” replied Havers. “With shafts and harness.”
“Fine. Now, Rosalie, what have you got to tell me?” Rosalie launched into an account of the ‘games’ they had dreamt up... and was overjoyed when Quentin expressed his approval.
“Skivvies... yes... yes... and schoolgirls! Oh I like that a lot! Well done, you two.”
“Thanks, Mr Osman...”
“It’s been a pleasure, Boss!”
“Doubtless,” nodded Quentin. “But now I’m taking over again.”
Neither Rosalie nor Havers looked particularly happy at this announcement, even though they had been half expecting it. Still, they’d had their fling for a few days and, if they played their cards right, they might well have some more fun in the future. uentin got up from his desk.
“Havers,” he said, “I want to take a look at those yokes... and that hand-cart.”
“Sure, Boss... whatever you say.”
The two men left the study and Rosalie went back to her kitchen. She would very much have liked her skivvies to be there to help her. But... no such luck!
That afternoon was an arduous one for Julia and Melissa. Under Quentin’s supervision, they made three journeys from the outhouses to the mansion, carrying heavy loads of tinned food in the buckets suspended from the yokes. The combined weight of the yokes and the buckets, plus their contents, weighted them down, and they swayed and tottered with their efforts, often stumbling in the high-heeled boots they wore. It was the only thing they did wear! And, always there, urging them on by words and horse-whip, was Quentin. Again and again the slim lash would snake out, raising thin weals over the flesh of buttocks and thighs. Sometimes across the back, too. Then, after half an hour’s rest, Julia and Melissa were harnessed side by side, between the shafts of a wooden handcart. Quentin sat in the cart on a chair, still wielding his horse-whip. The cart having been loaded with heavier goods, set off, with Julia and Melissa straining and tugging. With what infinite pleasure Quentin gazed upon their naked bodies, right before him. He could see the effort. See the sweat. Hear them groan. Oh... it was quite wonderful! Words of command... Dire threats... And, ever and anon, the corded horse-whip snaking out... stinging fierily... drawing whimpering cries from flesh being driven close to exhaustion. The girls made three journeys between the shafts before all the stores had been moved. And, by then, they were almost out on their feet. Quentin was well content. It had been a most enjoyable afternoon... and he was profuse in his praise to Havers who had had the idea to begin with. Perhaps as some kind of reward, he told Havers to hose the girls down thoroughly before returning them to their quarters. It was, to say the least, a task which gave Havers a very great deal of pleasure! How they danced! How their breasts and buttocks bounced! The jet of cold water was fierce... and Havers kept playing it on his gasping victims for a good five minutes. Then he took them down below again, slapping those shapely bottoms frequently. How he wished he were still in sole charge! Then, for sure, he would have had fun and games with one of them. At the idea, Havers suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. He remembered he had fucked Melissa that morning without getting permission from the Boss! That was a bad slip. How lucky it was Quentin had been so fully engaged at the time! It had been decreed that no Treatment was necessary, so, thankfully, each girl slumped down on her bed to ease aching muscles. Soon both were lost in a sleep of semi-exhaustion.
During the next week, Quentin enjoyed himself enormously. Only very occasionally did he regret that Glenda was not there to share the fun with him. He played the Victorian householder... with his servile skivvies and maids... He played Head of the Academy... with his two delightful young pupils... He had an afternoon of High Society... And, several times, he had Julia and Melissa pull him around the grounds in the hand-cart... Yes... it was all the greatest fun! Then, out of the blue, came a Mail from Madame Vesta. She was travelling abroad on business... and would like to stay a night of two at Cragness. Would that be convenient? Quentin replied at once that he would be only too delighted to have such a respected guest... although, when he announced the news to Julia and Melissa, it has to be said that they looked rather less than pleased! Within two days, the gaunt, stone-faced woman, garbed in her customary black, had arrived and was installed in the guest suite.
Rosalie and Havers have been warned to be on their best, deferential behaviour and, even if this had not been done, it was something that this forbidding figure would have inspired in any case. On the morning after her arrival, Madame Vesta made a tour of inspection of the cellar quarters. She seemed most impressed. So were Julia and Melissa when, once again, the woman they feared more than any other looked upon them both once more. They grovelled themselves almost through the carpet... T hey slavered on her high-heeled, black, button-up boots... The shivered openly with sheer dread in her presence...
“How are they behaving?” asked Madame Vesta at one point.
“All in all, very well,” replied Quentin. “After training such as yours, it is only to be expected, Madame Vesta.”
“Thank you, Quentin. I must say, I rarely get any complaints.”
“And are you... er... acquiring new ‘material’?” asked Quentin.
“A steady flow,” responded Madame Vesta.“ Surprisingly steady. Quentin, may I look at that Punishment Room of yours again. It has a lot to commend it, I think.”
“Certainly Madame Vesta...” The granite-faced figure was escorted back to the room which housed the punishment blocks and securing pillories... both operated by an electronic device. Madame Vesta operated the controls herself, seeing the pillories opening and closing, seeing the blocks changing shape so that the secured victim’s posture could be changed at will.
“I think I might have something like this installed on the ‘Paradise’,” she said.
“I find myself flattered,” smiled Quentin.
“My equipment is most efficient, but a little old-fashioned.”
“I’m inclined to agree, Madame Vesta.”
“Yes... this is excellent...”
“Would you like to see it actually in use, Madame Vesta?”
“Why not... quite a good idea...”
“I’ll see to it right away.” On the house-phone, Havers was ordered to bring the two girls to the Punishment Room. Instantly, they prostrated themselves at the feet of Madame Vesta.
“Get on to the blocks, girls,” ordered Quentin. There wasn’t even a fraction of a second’s delay. Each girl slid up over the leathern hump of the block which carried her name, the pillory holes opened, the next and wrists went in, the pillory holes closed. Then the encircling steel bands emerged to pinion them down... over the waist... around the thighs. Finally Quentin pressed the button which caused the thighs to be pulled forward, curving the buttocks to their roundest and tautest.
“Most excellent,” nodded Madame Vesta. “I cannot envisage any more suitable place for securement prior to punishment.”
“Thank you, Madame Vesta, you are most kind.” Quentin pressed another button. The curtains before Julia and Melissa slid back, to give them a clear view of themselves in the pillories. Another button was pushed and the curtains at the other end of the room parted. Now the girls also had a reflected view of their appearance from the rear. It was not exactly one designed to fortify any feelings of modesty!
“The corrective instruments are kept in here,” said Quentin, leading the way into an alcove which contained a veritable arsenal of straps, rods, crops, birches, martinets and the like. These either lay on the long bench or hung from the wall.
“You are well equipped,” said Madame Vesta.
“Thanks largely to you... and Miss Judith,” said Quentin. “Most of this came from the ‘Paradise’, though I did buy a few items myself.” Madame Vesta picked up a riding crop of dark brown leather, tightly plaited. At the ‘business’ end it had three two-inch long tassels of leather, each of which was studded with three small lead pellets. It seemed to meet with her approval and she swished it sharply through the air.
“I might as well leave them a memento of my visit,” said Madame Vesta. “Something for them to remember you by,” said Quentin with a smile. Madame Vesta did not smile in return.
“That’s right,” she said. They went back to the Punishment Room itself, where the two sets of taut-curving buttocks waited helplessly. The eyes of both Julia and Melissa dilated with terror as they saw what was in Madame Vesta’s hand. Nowadays, Madame Vesta rarely administered punishment personally, leaving that to her assistants. It was, however, her custom to give a girl her ‘initiation’ when she arrived on the ‘Paradise’... and this was always a flogging of considerable severity. She intended nothing like that on this occasion. It was just to be a reminder of her continuing presence and power.
“A dozen each, I think,” said Madame Vesta.
“Whatever you say,” nodded Quentin. Reflected in the mirror, he saw the dread in the eyes, the quivering lips. Madame Vesta stepped up... and measured Melissa for the first stroke. These she intended to apply alternately to each girl. The riding crop whistled and bit, the lead-shot tips curling cruelly into Melissa’s flank. Though she tried to check her gasping scream, Melissa could not. In fact, for all her effort and will-power, she ‘broke’ immediately. That cutting leather, plaited around a supple core of whalebone, plus the additional, agonising tip of it, were just too much for her! It was similar with Julia, whose breathless scream echoed instantly round the room.
Madame Vesta’s features were as impassively granite-like as ever as she stepped back to Melissa. Yet, deep inside, the sadistic pleasure bubbled. It was some time since she had given a girl a sound thrashing. Now she had two to deal with. Yes... she was going to enjoy herself!
Sobbing and weeping uncontrollably, Julia and Melissa were left in the pillories when Madame Vesta had completed her task. A dozen red-purple weals encircled each bottom... There were dozens of pellet marks in each right flank... Quentin was most impressed by the precision and accuracy with which Madame Vesta had placed each stroke. The stripes were a half an inch apart... like a hot grid placed over the flash. Admittedly, it had not been possible for either girl to move her hindquarters more than a fraction, strong as the desire to do so must have been. All the same, thought Quentin, it was a skilled performance. The mark of an experienced veteran! For a while, impassive as ever, Madame Vesta regarded her handiwork.
“I think they can stay there for a while,” she said.
“Yes... yes...” agreed Quentin. “Shall we go up then?”
“Why not?” said Madame Vesta... and turned on her heel. And Julia and Melissa were left to endure the excruciating torment of the ‘memento’ she had left behind!
“I have a piece of news for you, Quentin. And a proposition.” Dinner had been served by Rosalie, who had now withdrawn. Both were drinking port.
“What’s that, Madame Vesta?” Still, thought Quentin, that formal mode of address. Anything less for her seemed out of place.
“Well, I am so impressed by your set-up here... and your security... I am going to suggest you accept two girls for training...” Quentin looked both surprised and delighted.
“Really?” he said.
“Really,” came the flat reply. “If we can agree terms.”
“Oh... I’m sure we can!” Money was of little concern to Quentin, especially since his marriage to Glenda.
“They were, of course, destined for the ‘Paradise’,” went on Madame Vesta. “But I see no reason at all why they should not be trained here. You have the place, the equipment, and you have some assistance. Also, you have two fine examples of what I might call ‘finished products. ” Quentin grinned.
“Yes...” he nodded, “they will be very instructive for newcomers. They are newcomers, aren’t they? Completely untrained, I mean?”
“Completely,” said Madame Vesta. She handed Quentin a couple of snapshots and he examined them eagerly. He found himself looking at two shapely girls, both in swimsuits, one blonde, one brunette.
“They look very young,” he said, licking his lips. “s*******n and sixteen,” said Madame Vesta. “And they’re sisters. At the moment, they live in the Austrian Tyrol.”
“s*******n and sixteen,” said Quentin wonderingly. “My word...”
“You approve?”
“What do you think?” Quentin’s smile was lecherous.
“Good. Well, Quentin, I don’t think you need any further details at the moment. I’ll contact you again nearer the time of the arrival. That should be in about a month or six weeks.”
“That’s fine... fine!” Quentin was beaming. What an unexpected turn-up. Two new playthings! Both quite inexperienced to pain! He wondered if they happened to be virgins. Unlikely in this day and age, he thought.
“Well then, shall we discuss terms?” said Madame Vesta.
“By all means,” replied Quentin. He was happily prepared to pay through the nose!
It was after Madame Vesta had left Cragness the following day, that Quentin had ‘The Idea’. A marvellous ‘Idea’, it seemed. And the more he thought about it, the more marvellous it became. It concerned Julia and Melissa. Better, perhaps, to say it concerned Julia or Melissa. But which one? Quentin brooded on that for quite some time. It was one of the most intriguing decisions he had ever had to make in all his life!
In the next Chapter: The cards are new dealed.
“I am afraid I have some sad news for you,” he said. The pair were both suddenly tensely apprehensive. Were their services about to be dispensed with?
“Glenda... my wife... has met with an accident...”
“Oh dear... how awful!” said Rosalie and Havers together. But secretly you could see they were pleased the news did not affect them. “A fatal accident,” continued Quentin. “In a friend’s automobile.”
“Oh dear... oh dear...” they said again. Quentin sat down and Rosalie solicitously brought him a glass of brandy. He was putting on quite a show of grief but, actually, Glenda’s demise had left him fairly unperturbed. He had never pretended to be ‘in love’ with her. They had been brought together by mutual interests. By similar perversions. By business agreements. It was more like losing an office partner than anything.
“Everything all right here?” he asked, after a decent pause.
“Fine... Boss...” said Havers quickly. He raised a warning hand to Rosalie. It did not seem an appropriate time to tell Quentin about the various ‘games’ they had dreamed up.
“Good... good...” nodded Quentin. “Well... I’m a bit done in after my journey. And everything. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“It’s all ready for you, Mr Osman,” said Rosalie. She was quick to get back into her serving role. She hoped very much that she would still be wanted, even though Glenda was no longer with them. You never know, she said to herself, Quentin might get married again!
“Thanks,” said Quentin. “Oh... and Havers... send one or the other up to me in the morning. About nine o’clock will do.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” A rather short period of mourning, thought Havers, with an inner grin. Still he would probably have got the same order if Glenda had been there. The couple had been broadminded, to say the least!
Morning came. Havers descended to the cellar quarters. Julia and Melissa adopted their obligatory submissive posture... and were carefully examined. There was not a mark on them. Havers was pleased, and yet again marvelled at the efficiency of the Treatment.
“OK, stand up...” The girls stood up. Looking meek and humble. Yet they were tense.
“Well,” smiled Havers, “which one of you is going to be the lucky one to welcome the Master home?” Havers spun a coin.
“Call, Melissa,” he said.
“Heads,” said Melissa forlornly. Havers looked at the coin.
“Wrong,” he said. “Off you go, Julia. You’ll find the cellar door unlocked and your Master in the main bedroom.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said Julia. She bobbed a little breast-quivering curtsey before turning to go. Havers grinned at Melissa as he unbuckled his belt.
“It’s alright, Melissa,” he said, “you’re going to have a treat too. Get on the bed, girlie, I think I’ll have you on top of me again. You’re good at that.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said Melissa, just as Julia had done. The trousers and pants were dropped; the thick, stubby penis, still f laccid, was exposed. Melissa wriggled her bottom as provocatively as she could as she got on to the bed.
“But I think you might have to suck me a little first.”
“Yes... Sir... thank you, Sir...” Havers lay back with his shirt pulled up. Melissa went down between his thighs. In moments, Havers’ penis was in the girl’s warm-wet mouth and she had begun to suck in her usual expert fashion. Eyes closing, Havers sighed contentedly.
Meanwhile, above in the bedroom, Julia was equally being made use of. Deliberately, Quentin said nothing when Julia entered and knelt submissively. He simply pulled back the bedclothes and showed her the solid hard he had woken up with. Getting on for a week’s abstinence had made him feel more than usually randy. Still in silence, he lumbered out of bed, pulled Julia across the room by her hair and more or less threw her face down over a dressing table stool. Then he knelt, seized the fronts of her thighs and pulled them wide, then, with a piggish grunt, rammed in to the depths. Oh that felt lovely! Oh it was good to be back! Quentin fucked the squirming Julia hard and faster, his breath rasping, his fat belly pounding and pounding on her soft buttocks. He knew he couldn’t last long... and didn’t care. He could enjoy the girl in a more leisurely fashion a little later on... Snort... snort...
“Ugh... hhaagghh... uuggh... hhaagghh...” Saliva began to run from one corner of Quentin’s mouth. Snort... snort... snort...
“Hhhaaaaghhh... hhhhaaaa... hhhhaaaa...” His jowls were all a-quiver. Then the flesh of his thighs and his juddering rump.
“HHHHAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!” The lust spurted violently. Again... and again... Again and again and again... All the time Quentin kept his right grip on Julia’s thighs, his belly still pounding her co-operatively jerking and wriggling bottom... Then, finally, still buried in her, Quentin slumped down... panting... wet-mouthed... eyes a little glazed. That had been good... Very good indeed... Just what he had wanted... and how he had wanted it... The girl sent for, the erection ready. The girl unceremoniously dragged into position, with not a word said. The girl’s thighs pulled apart. The girl fucked. Fucked hard and strong! Used! A faint grin flickered over Quentin’s face. Her arse might as well have been a soft pumpkin with a hole in it for all consideration he’d given her! Yes, most excellent!
“Ah... that’s better,” announced Quentin, suddenly withdrawing. He got up and shambled into the bathroom and turned on warm shower. Julia, needless to say, remained precisely where she was. For, of course, she had received no orders to do otherwise!
An hour or so later, Quentin was in his study and summoned both Rosalie and Havers to join him. In turn, they gave an account of what had been happening... Havers only omitting the session with the yokes. However, he did tell Quentin they were ready and suggested they be put quickly to use. They needed some of the stores urgently.
“I’ll deal with that this afternoon,” said Quentin. While in New York, he had bought himself an old-fashioned horse-whip. It had a long, slim cane handle to which was attached an equally long piece of cord. A cord with half a dozen small knots at its end. It would sting quite adequately, he reckoned, without doing a great deal of harm.
“What about a cart?” he asked.
“I’ve got that ready Boss,” replied Havers. “With shafts and harness.”
“Fine. Now, Rosalie, what have you got to tell me?” Rosalie launched into an account of the ‘games’ they had dreamt up... and was overjoyed when Quentin expressed his approval.
“Skivvies... yes... yes... and schoolgirls! Oh I like that a lot! Well done, you two.”
“Thanks, Mr Osman...”
“It’s been a pleasure, Boss!”
“Doubtless,” nodded Quentin. “But now I’m taking over again.”
Neither Rosalie nor Havers looked particularly happy at this announcement, even though they had been half expecting it. Still, they’d had their fling for a few days and, if they played their cards right, they might well have some more fun in the future. uentin got up from his desk.
“Havers,” he said, “I want to take a look at those yokes... and that hand-cart.”
“Sure, Boss... whatever you say.”
The two men left the study and Rosalie went back to her kitchen. She would very much have liked her skivvies to be there to help her. But... no such luck!
That afternoon was an arduous one for Julia and Melissa. Under Quentin’s supervision, they made three journeys from the outhouses to the mansion, carrying heavy loads of tinned food in the buckets suspended from the yokes. The combined weight of the yokes and the buckets, plus their contents, weighted them down, and they swayed and tottered with their efforts, often stumbling in the high-heeled boots they wore. It was the only thing they did wear! And, always there, urging them on by words and horse-whip, was Quentin. Again and again the slim lash would snake out, raising thin weals over the flesh of buttocks and thighs. Sometimes across the back, too. Then, after half an hour’s rest, Julia and Melissa were harnessed side by side, between the shafts of a wooden handcart. Quentin sat in the cart on a chair, still wielding his horse-whip. The cart having been loaded with heavier goods, set off, with Julia and Melissa straining and tugging. With what infinite pleasure Quentin gazed upon their naked bodies, right before him. He could see the effort. See the sweat. Hear them groan. Oh... it was quite wonderful! Words of command... Dire threats... And, ever and anon, the corded horse-whip snaking out... stinging fierily... drawing whimpering cries from flesh being driven close to exhaustion. The girls made three journeys between the shafts before all the stores had been moved. And, by then, they were almost out on their feet. Quentin was well content. It had been a most enjoyable afternoon... and he was profuse in his praise to Havers who had had the idea to begin with. Perhaps as some kind of reward, he told Havers to hose the girls down thoroughly before returning them to their quarters. It was, to say the least, a task which gave Havers a very great deal of pleasure! How they danced! How their breasts and buttocks bounced! The jet of cold water was fierce... and Havers kept playing it on his gasping victims for a good five minutes. Then he took them down below again, slapping those shapely bottoms frequently. How he wished he were still in sole charge! Then, for sure, he would have had fun and games with one of them. At the idea, Havers suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. He remembered he had fucked Melissa that morning without getting permission from the Boss! That was a bad slip. How lucky it was Quentin had been so fully engaged at the time! It had been decreed that no Treatment was necessary, so, thankfully, each girl slumped down on her bed to ease aching muscles. Soon both were lost in a sleep of semi-exhaustion.
During the next week, Quentin enjoyed himself enormously. Only very occasionally did he regret that Glenda was not there to share the fun with him. He played the Victorian householder... with his servile skivvies and maids... He played Head of the Academy... with his two delightful young pupils... He had an afternoon of High Society... And, several times, he had Julia and Melissa pull him around the grounds in the hand-cart... Yes... it was all the greatest fun! Then, out of the blue, came a Mail from Madame Vesta. She was travelling abroad on business... and would like to stay a night of two at Cragness. Would that be convenient? Quentin replied at once that he would be only too delighted to have such a respected guest... although, when he announced the news to Julia and Melissa, it has to be said that they looked rather less than pleased! Within two days, the gaunt, stone-faced woman, garbed in her customary black, had arrived and was installed in the guest suite.
Rosalie and Havers have been warned to be on their best, deferential behaviour and, even if this had not been done, it was something that this forbidding figure would have inspired in any case. On the morning after her arrival, Madame Vesta made a tour of inspection of the cellar quarters. She seemed most impressed. So were Julia and Melissa when, once again, the woman they feared more than any other looked upon them both once more. They grovelled themselves almost through the carpet... T hey slavered on her high-heeled, black, button-up boots... The shivered openly with sheer dread in her presence...
“How are they behaving?” asked Madame Vesta at one point.
“All in all, very well,” replied Quentin. “After training such as yours, it is only to be expected, Madame Vesta.”
“Thank you, Quentin. I must say, I rarely get any complaints.”
“And are you... er... acquiring new ‘material’?” asked Quentin.
“A steady flow,” responded Madame Vesta.“ Surprisingly steady. Quentin, may I look at that Punishment Room of yours again. It has a lot to commend it, I think.”
“Certainly Madame Vesta...” The granite-faced figure was escorted back to the room which housed the punishment blocks and securing pillories... both operated by an electronic device. Madame Vesta operated the controls herself, seeing the pillories opening and closing, seeing the blocks changing shape so that the secured victim’s posture could be changed at will.
“I think I might have something like this installed on the ‘Paradise’,” she said.
“I find myself flattered,” smiled Quentin.
“My equipment is most efficient, but a little old-fashioned.”
“I’m inclined to agree, Madame Vesta.”
“Yes... this is excellent...”
“Would you like to see it actually in use, Madame Vesta?”
“Why not... quite a good idea...”
“I’ll see to it right away.” On the house-phone, Havers was ordered to bring the two girls to the Punishment Room. Instantly, they prostrated themselves at the feet of Madame Vesta.
“Get on to the blocks, girls,” ordered Quentin. There wasn’t even a fraction of a second’s delay. Each girl slid up over the leathern hump of the block which carried her name, the pillory holes opened, the next and wrists went in, the pillory holes closed. Then the encircling steel bands emerged to pinion them down... over the waist... around the thighs. Finally Quentin pressed the button which caused the thighs to be pulled forward, curving the buttocks to their roundest and tautest.
“Most excellent,” nodded Madame Vesta. “I cannot envisage any more suitable place for securement prior to punishment.”
“Thank you, Madame Vesta, you are most kind.” Quentin pressed another button. The curtains before Julia and Melissa slid back, to give them a clear view of themselves in the pillories. Another button was pushed and the curtains at the other end of the room parted. Now the girls also had a reflected view of their appearance from the rear. It was not exactly one designed to fortify any feelings of modesty!
“The corrective instruments are kept in here,” said Quentin, leading the way into an alcove which contained a veritable arsenal of straps, rods, crops, birches, martinets and the like. These either lay on the long bench or hung from the wall.
“You are well equipped,” said Madame Vesta.
“Thanks largely to you... and Miss Judith,” said Quentin. “Most of this came from the ‘Paradise’, though I did buy a few items myself.” Madame Vesta picked up a riding crop of dark brown leather, tightly plaited. At the ‘business’ end it had three two-inch long tassels of leather, each of which was studded with three small lead pellets. It seemed to meet with her approval and she swished it sharply through the air.
“I might as well leave them a memento of my visit,” said Madame Vesta. “Something for them to remember you by,” said Quentin with a smile. Madame Vesta did not smile in return.
“That’s right,” she said. They went back to the Punishment Room itself, where the two sets of taut-curving buttocks waited helplessly. The eyes of both Julia and Melissa dilated with terror as they saw what was in Madame Vesta’s hand. Nowadays, Madame Vesta rarely administered punishment personally, leaving that to her assistants. It was, however, her custom to give a girl her ‘initiation’ when she arrived on the ‘Paradise’... and this was always a flogging of considerable severity. She intended nothing like that on this occasion. It was just to be a reminder of her continuing presence and power.
“A dozen each, I think,” said Madame Vesta.
“Whatever you say,” nodded Quentin. Reflected in the mirror, he saw the dread in the eyes, the quivering lips. Madame Vesta stepped up... and measured Melissa for the first stroke. These she intended to apply alternately to each girl. The riding crop whistled and bit, the lead-shot tips curling cruelly into Melissa’s flank. Though she tried to check her gasping scream, Melissa could not. In fact, for all her effort and will-power, she ‘broke’ immediately. That cutting leather, plaited around a supple core of whalebone, plus the additional, agonising tip of it, were just too much for her! It was similar with Julia, whose breathless scream echoed instantly round the room.
Madame Vesta’s features were as impassively granite-like as ever as she stepped back to Melissa. Yet, deep inside, the sadistic pleasure bubbled. It was some time since she had given a girl a sound thrashing. Now she had two to deal with. Yes... she was going to enjoy herself!
Sobbing and weeping uncontrollably, Julia and Melissa were left in the pillories when Madame Vesta had completed her task. A dozen red-purple weals encircled each bottom... There were dozens of pellet marks in each right flank... Quentin was most impressed by the precision and accuracy with which Madame Vesta had placed each stroke. The stripes were a half an inch apart... like a hot grid placed over the flash. Admittedly, it had not been possible for either girl to move her hindquarters more than a fraction, strong as the desire to do so must have been. All the same, thought Quentin, it was a skilled performance. The mark of an experienced veteran! For a while, impassive as ever, Madame Vesta regarded her handiwork.
“I think they can stay there for a while,” she said.
“Yes... yes...” agreed Quentin. “Shall we go up then?”
“Why not?” said Madame Vesta... and turned on her heel. And Julia and Melissa were left to endure the excruciating torment of the ‘memento’ she had left behind!
“I have a piece of news for you, Quentin. And a proposition.” Dinner had been served by Rosalie, who had now withdrawn. Both were drinking port.
“What’s that, Madame Vesta?” Still, thought Quentin, that formal mode of address. Anything less for her seemed out of place.
“Well, I am so impressed by your set-up here... and your security... I am going to suggest you accept two girls for training...” Quentin looked both surprised and delighted.
“Really?” he said.
“Really,” came the flat reply. “If we can agree terms.”
“Oh... I’m sure we can!” Money was of little concern to Quentin, especially since his marriage to Glenda.
“They were, of course, destined for the ‘Paradise’,” went on Madame Vesta. “But I see no reason at all why they should not be trained here. You have the place, the equipment, and you have some assistance. Also, you have two fine examples of what I might call ‘finished products. ” Quentin grinned.
“Yes...” he nodded, “they will be very instructive for newcomers. They are newcomers, aren’t they? Completely untrained, I mean?”
“Completely,” said Madame Vesta. She handed Quentin a couple of snapshots and he examined them eagerly. He found himself looking at two shapely girls, both in swimsuits, one blonde, one brunette.
“They look very young,” he said, licking his lips. “s*******n and sixteen,” said Madame Vesta. “And they’re sisters. At the moment, they live in the Austrian Tyrol.”
“s*******n and sixteen,” said Quentin wonderingly. “My word...”
“You approve?”
“What do you think?” Quentin’s smile was lecherous.
“Good. Well, Quentin, I don’t think you need any further details at the moment. I’ll contact you again nearer the time of the arrival. That should be in about a month or six weeks.”
“That’s fine... fine!” Quentin was beaming. What an unexpected turn-up. Two new playthings! Both quite inexperienced to pain! He wondered if they happened to be virgins. Unlikely in this day and age, he thought.
“Well then, shall we discuss terms?” said Madame Vesta.
“By all means,” replied Quentin. He was happily prepared to pay through the nose!
It was after Madame Vesta had left Cragness the following day, that Quentin had ‘The Idea’. A marvellous ‘Idea’, it seemed. And the more he thought about it, the more marvellous it became. It concerned Julia and Melissa. Better, perhaps, to say it concerned Julia or Melissa. But which one? Quentin brooded on that for quite some time. It was one of the most intriguing decisions he had ever had to make in all his life!
In the next Chapter: The cards are new dealed.
Vicky
- 01.05.2021
- 19
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