The SisterhoodChapter 19 free porn video

Donald, 12th Duke of Northumbria, was in a sour mood as he struggled out of bed on the raw December day. It was only four days before New Year’s Day, 1996. Fortunately, Douglas had insisted on modernizing Prendwick Castle over his violent objections. Had he not, the Duke realized, he could have scarcely moved because his room would have been so cold, his creaking joints — those that still worked at all — would not have gotten him out of bed.

But as a result of the work — completed only a few months earlier — there was now central heating throughout the castle. The bathrooms had been sumptuously redone over his violent objections, but he admitted — if only to himself — that he liked the heated tile floors, the giant bathtub and the huge shower. For no reason the Duke could discover, the kitchen had been completely redone, too. Now, he supposed, it could serve as the subject in a kitchen modernizing magazine. And I’m sure it would appeal to everyone with an old castle they want to fix up, he thought.

Before its modernization, the ancient castle had been essentially unchanged since it had been built as a strong point on the border country to cover against a Scottish invasion. And that was during the reign of Henry VIII in 1520! he thought. This damned pile of rocks is nearly 500 years old.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reflected on his sourness. First, of course, there was his deteriorating physical condition. His doctor told him he had Parkinson’s disease and he knew the doctor was correct. Holding up his right hand, he was disgusted to find it shaking. Imagine me in the cockpit of a Spitfire, he thought. That would be a real joke! His mind was failing, too, he realized. “Just what I really need!” he muttered, “Alzheimer’s disease on top of Parkinson’s!” In addition, he had arthritis, a weak heart, failing eyesight, lousy hearing... In short, I’m a physical wreck!

Even worse, he admitted to himself, he had become what he hated most in the world: a querulous old man. And worse yet, Mrs. McDougall had just left. Apparently the kitchen modernization had done her in. The poor woman — 75 years old, he realized — just couldn’t cope with the kitchen’s new electronics. This left him with no one to cook for the guests arriving with Douglas, but he realized, he didn’t give a damn.

That’s another thing, he thought. Even a few years ago, I loved a good meal and took pride in the food served at Prendwick. But no longer. Now I would as soon have a bowl of oatmeal.

He had received a phone call from Douglas the night before announcing that he would be coming to Prendwick today and would be bringing guests. The Duke reflected that something must be up, because Douglas seldom called him anymore. Because of his poor hearing, the Duke realized, there had been far too many misunderstandings on the telephone caused solely by his own inability to hear.

Finally getting out of bed, he hobbled over to the bell cord and gave it a yank to summon his valet to help him bathe and dress. While he awaited the man, he shook his head in despair thinking about his grandson. Never in his life had he encountered a man with lousier taste in women than his grandson, Douglas. That boy has more dogs than a kennel! he thought.

His mood was further aggravated by the fact that he didn’t have much more time to live — not that he wanted any more time in light of his horrid and rapidly deteriorating physical condition — but he desperately wanted to see Douglas married first. His concern about Doug was so great he had actually talked to his solicitor about the possibility of turning the dukedom back to the Crown. If Doug was going to marry a dog, he would rather the ducal line stop with him rather than extend to some slack-jawed idiot, the likely offspring of any wife of his.

As they drove out to the Prague International airport, Karla was very nervous. After all, she was going to meet Doug’s grandfather, the man who had forbidden him to marry about twenty girls prior to her. Anna and Maria would have been with them, too, except for Paula’s latest surprise. Just two days earlier, on December 26, she had appeared at the apartment with two women in tow. One was Christine Wulf, the wife of the Minister of Finance, and the other was Josephine Blunt, the wife of the Defense Minister.

“These,” she announced sadly, “are your new slaves, Christy and Jo. I’m sorry I couldn’t do better, but you know how it is with slaves. They just get worse. You probably thought that with me you were scraping the bottom of the barrel, but now look! As much as I hate to say it, this is the best available in the market.”

Then to the women she said, “Greet your mistress, Slaves!” The women had already shed their clothes. Both were overweight, with pendulous tits and overgrown pelvic bushes. Christy was a dirty blonde while Jo had auburn hair similar to Anna’s.

Karla remembered their exchange with Barbara. Christy, speaking for both of them, said, “I told my husband, John, that I was going to the same fat farm Paula had been to. Since he’s been drooling over her for months, that was all it took.”

Looking up at Barb she pleaded, “We are fully prepared for our slavery. Paula has already even allowed us to lick her lovely and succulent pussy. And knowing how much you hate bloodshed, Mistress, she has volunteered to handle our initiation.”

“And what is your initiation?” Barb had inquired.

“We will be taken out on the terrace and whipped mercilessly,” the woman replied. “Paula said twenty lashes, but Josephine and I are holding out for thirty. She told us how her tits were sliced almost off her body. But now look!” she said rising and taking the naked Paula’s tit in her hand. “Can you imagine anything more perfect than this? And her nipples which she said had been sliced to bits are now so utterly perfect. They are so perky!”

Pleading again she dropped to her knees and begged, “Please ask her to cut mine off, Mistress. If they regenerated, they would have to be better than my bags. And if they didn’t, it would be no loss.” Then smiling she concluded, “Paula is so thoughtful, too. Our blood will run off the terrace as soon as the snow melts. Since it will drip on the snow and not on the tiles, there will be no chance of staining. Furthermore, the freezing cold will help to distract us from our agonies, and afterward we’ll even be able to roll in the snow to anaesthetize the pain.”

When Barb asked how they had come to volunteer, Christy was delighted to explain. “We were the very first ones selected. Virtually every minister’s wife wants to replicate what Paula has done. Just think! Aside from being exquisitely beautiful, she emerged from her three-month stay with a university education. And she is so incredibly sweet as well as being a world-class beauty. So we are the winners of the lottery and get to go first. Josephine and I are so lucky! Now may we begin our initiation, Mistress?”

Barb had agreed reluctantly, but still had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Paula had handled the initiation. The women were now in bed together, holding each other’s tortured bodies. Karla just shook her head in utter bewilderment.

Just before they left for the airport, Doug had received a wire from his grandfather’s butler, John Monroe, telling him that his cook had just walked out. He hoped that wouldn’t cause them to change their plans, but he thought they should know that they would have to handle their own meals, somehow.

When he told the women, Barbara just grinned and checked with the flight crew to ensure there was plenty of food on board. There was. There was a second message, but this was for her. Karla had learned that the young tiger, Duke, had been pining away, so Ken and Kathy Carlson had chartered a small jet to fly the poor tiger over to her. A quick phone call diverted the flight from Prague to Newcastle. If all the planning worked out, Duke should be at the Newcastle airport waiting for them.

As soon as the great plane was airborne, she rose from her seat beside Doug and went to the lavatory. There she stripped off her clothes, put on her collar and cuffs, and then carefully tied her tie. Returning to the cabin, she took refreshment orders.

Barb was not at all sympathetic. “You poor dear! Reduced to the rôle of body slave again. And you, dear baby sister, a queen yet.” Shaking her head but unable to suppress her grin she added, “Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”

Karla cutely stuck out her tongue.

Since they were sitting on a sofa opposite Doug, the Sloans took advantage of the opportunity to tease them. While she was serving him coffee, Steve fondled her tit and asked, “Does Doug do this often, Slave?”

“Not as often as I would like, Master,” Karla admitted.

“And how much would you like?” he persisted.

“I would like his hands on my tits all the time to support them for me.”

“And this?” Steve asked, shifting his hand from her tit to her slit. Karla couldn’t control a small moan of pleasure when he did. Finally he squeezed an ass cheek and said, “Slave, our guest is being good to you. In spite of the hard use you’re getting every day, there’s scarcely a mark on your body. Are you certain you’re adequately taking care of his needs?”

“You’ll have to ask him that, Master,” she replied.

Then drawing herself up she said, “And, Master and Mistress, in her Christmas card, Susan Collins said that she has nominated me to be third vice president of the body slaves’ union. Just think!” she enthused. “In just a few short years, I’ll be in line to be president! Won’t that be neat?”

“But darling, you’ll be my wife,” Doug protested.

“They don’t need to know that,” Karla replied petulantly. “We’ll just do what Sue did. She was in trouble because Jeff hadn’t fucked her. But when he wrote that wonderful letter — well, actually Sue wrote it but Jeff really did sign it — saying she was a really great fuck, it put her in line for the presidency. And she’ll be president next year.

“But anyway, Master and Mistress, all you have to do is sell me to Doug. Then maybe he’ll write a wonderful letter about me, too.” Then with a wonderful smile she added, “And guess what else? I am the only body slave with her own Russian sable coat. Isn’t that neat?”

The charade over, she sat beside Doug who appeared to be growing more concerned by the minute. Finally he said, “Darling, there’s one thing you should know. We are going to get married, regardless of what Dad says. Okay?”

“Not okay, darling,” Karla replied sadly. Then she brightened and added, “But I will be your mistress, though. And I’ll help you find a woman who’s truly right for you. But, Doug, I will not marry you without your grandfather’s permission. I cannot.”

Looking into his eyes to try to make him understand she said, “Darling, I’m an orphan. Perhaps because of that, I know what it means to have no family. I will not come between you and yours!”

Doug looked across at Barb and found her sadly shaking her head. Karla had just repeated what Barb had said to him that very first night at the gala: without his grandfather’s permission, there would be no wedding.

At that instant Doug felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, while Barb swallowed hard and said, “I guess we’ll just have to ensure that he gives his permission, won’t we?”

Doug realized he was as close to tears as he had ever been since he was five years old. Shaking his head he said, “I just don’t know, Barb. Dad’s over eighty now. I guess he’s eighty-two. And he is subject to all of the problems of aging. He’s crippled up ... Good heavens, it must utterly kill him! Here he was career RAF, and, I guess, one of its greatest heros, now not even being able to stand up straight.

“Last time I saw him, we were someplace where they played “God Save The Queen.” Poor Dad was actually crying because he was no longer able to stand at an acceptable — to him — position of attention.” But then he added, “The problem is his physical condition and it’s effect on his mental state. Frankly, I’m sure he’s literally tired of living. And it’s such a damned shame, too.”

They talked and Karla served a light meal, then changed into her clothes again as the seatbelt light came on for their landing at Newcastle-upon-Tyne. When she rejoined Doug and the others she asked, “How do I look, darling? Am I any better than the dogs you usually bring home to your grandfather?”

“Well...” Doug replied, looking pensive. “As long as your mouth is closed, he’s unlikely to comment on your buck teeth. But, of course, you really should wear your hair longer. That would cover your elephant ears...” Karla was now glaring at him and drumming her fingertips on her seat arm, but he continued, “Your figure, of course, is ... interesting. After all, darling, how many women have measurements of 15-35-55? It’s ... it’s truly novel,” Doug declared with a decisive nod of his head. Then he frowned and said, “Of course, honey, you probably should be wearing a longer skirt. Now I admit your ankles are ... distinctive. How many other women have ankles that are bigger around than my thighs, I wonder? And—”

Karla interrupted by asking Steve, “May I please borrow your new pistol, Master? With the pilot turning into final approach, I wouldn’t want the sound of a gunshot to disturb his concentration. And as long as I don’t shoot Doug in the head — the bullet would probably bounce around in the vacuum up there, and it might come out through an ear hole — he’s lunky enough so the bullet wouldn’t come out.”

Thinking for a moment she shook her head and said, “I’m sorry for bothering you, Master. It really won’t be necessary. All I have to do is press my pistol against Doug hard and the blubber will absorb almost all the sound, anyway. And with his headphones on, I’m sure the pilot won’t hear a thing.”

Doug took her in his arms. Although she initially pretended to resist, she quickly melted her lips against his. The two remained locked in a close embrace through the landing.

As the plane rolled down the runway, Karla looked outside for her first sight of England. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, “this is as desolate-looking as the Czech Republic used to be during the depths of the occupation. But whatever happened here?”

“Ever hear of ‘carrying coals to Newcastle’?”

Karla nodded and then said, “You mean that this is that Newcastle?”

“It sure is,” Doug replied, “and it looks it. There’s coal dust over everything. I think air pollution was invented here, if it wasn’t in London.”

The plane rolled to a stop at the arrivals building. Doug had suggested leaving the Rolls Corniche in the plane and taking the four-wheel-drive Lexus and the limousine. He was going to lead the way. Karla had been amused because she was now traveling on her brand-new Czech diplomatic passport. But furthermore, there was some consternation at the counter because a huge 767 widebody had landed, but only four passengers got off.

After clearing customs and immigration, she found Duke with a crewman from the private jet waiting for her. She was so proud of the tiger, because in spite of his eagerness to greet her, he remained seated with his tail neatly wrapped around his forepaws. Rushing up to him, she said, “You’ve been a very good boy, Duke. But is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“You are not my friend,” he communicated. “You are my beloved mistress! And now to be recognized as a true queen and a heroine ... It’s utterly overwhelming.” Duke sat up straight on his haunches.

Karla wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a loving kiss. Then she said, “Darling, there’s someone here I want you to meet.” Turning to Doug, she took his hand and pulled him closer. “Duke, this is my future lord and master, Douglas, 8th Earl of Whitfield. Doug, this is my friend and protector, Duke.”

For Doug, it was an utterly unique experience. He was being introduced to a half-grown Bengal tiger. When the huge cat looked at him, Doug was aware of great warmth in his eyes in stark contrast to the barely suppressed anger and rage he was accustomed to seeing in the eyes of tigers in the zoo — the only place he had ever previously seen a living tiger. Then he realized that the animal was talking to him — or communicating, anyway.

“Good afternoon, Your Lordship,” Duke said. “I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to meet you, and how thrilled I am that my beloved mistress has found the love of her life.” Then Doug realized that the tiger, now seated again like a giant house cat, had raised his right paw and was holding it out to him.

Taking the paw in his right hand, Doug said, “How do you do, Duke. I am very glad to meet my love’s protector. You will protect her from any harm, won’t you?”

“Mostly, sir,” the animal replied. “But my protection does not extend to protecting her from your great cock plowing her luscious grotto. Nor does it extend to protecting her from suitable punishment for teasing or tormenting you. And she’s very good at that, as you may already know.”

“I do know!” Doug exclaimed. When he told Duke about the freezing pool and its aftermath — Karla’s crimson bottom — he could have sworn the huge animal laughed.

“That’s a perfect illustration, sir,” Duke communicated. “She deserved everything you gave her. But her bottom was truly crimson?” When Doug agreed that it was, the animal shook his head in evident dismay. Asking him the problem, the tiger grinned and said, “I missed a wonderful opportunity, sir. That’s why I was dismayed. You see, sir, cats drink by lapping up liquids. Our tongues are constructed so that we can pick up a good deal of liquid with every lick. Well, one of the things we found out — one of my uncles, King, discovered it, actually — is that we can lick ice and then cool with our tongues. I would have liked to be able to lick my mistress’s bruised buns with an icy tongue to ease her pain. In the meantime, of course, I would be in seventh heaven. Mistress Karla has a perfect little ass, don’t you agree, sir?”

“Indeed I do,” Doug agreed. “But you will protect her from others, won’t you?”

“He certainly will!” Karla exclaimed. Then, while they were waiting for the vehicles to be unloaded, she told him about the attack in Central Park how, as very young cubs, he and his sister, Duchess, had attacked a whole gang of armed men intent on raping Sheila Quinn and Caitie Fitzpatrick. “In spite of being shot three times, Duke killed one and disabled a second.”

“Then what happened?” Doug asked.

“Then his parents happened,” Karla replied. “You really never want to see what’s left after two enraged full-grown tigers get finished with a body. Particularly if they’re enraged because you tried to kill their cubs.” She shook her head and concluded, “Thank God I wasn’t there. I do know they only found pieces of the guy who shot the cubs and not very big pieces, either.”

Finally they were on the road to Prendwick, a two-hour drive to the northwest. It was only a few miles below the Scottish border. After an hour’s drive, fortunately for Karla’s morale, the coal-mining country gave way to a more rural setting. When they cleared a rise, she saw a castle sitting on top of the next hill with a small village with its houses clustered a short distance away.

As they approached, the sun appeared for the first time all day revealing the castle in its restored beauty. Like the Skoda plants, it had been steam cleaned and fully restored. Now it gleamed in the sunlight and even emitted golden glows in places where the sun reflected off new copper flashing. It really looks lovely! Karla thought.

John Monroe, the butler, entered the study where Donald Whitfield was napping in his chair to tell him that cars were approaching the castle. “Your Grace, one of them is a Rolls limousine. Clearly, Master Douglas’ friends have some money for a change.” This was another reference to Doug’s abysmal taste in women; not only were they always as ugly as sin, most were near-penniless peeresses, to boot.

With Monroe’s assistance, the Duke rose from his chair, took his cane and hobbled out to the entry. To his disgust, he even had a shawl wrapped over his shoulders although he knew that in another time, with the unseasonably mild weather they were having, he would have been in his shirtsleeves.

The first vehicle was one that the Duke had never seen before, a Lexus 4-wheel drive that looked like a luxurious — and streamlined — Range Rover. As it rolled to a stop, Monroe was there to open the front door and assist the woman out, while Doug got out from the driver’s side and rushed around the car.

Whitfield almost fell over. Although his eyesight was failing at a rate far faster than his interest in having his eyeglass prescription changed, nevertheless, he was stunned by her incredible beauty. When she smiled her thanks at Monroe, the man almost fainted dead away. She had the most magnificent blonde hair he had ever seen, even though it was worn in an urchin’s cut. Then he realized that it seemed to reinforce the incredible beauty and delicacy of her features. Then when she looked his way, he saw that her eyes were the incredible warm blue of the Mediterranean.

My God! he thought. Could Douglas have made some mistake and found a beauty?

Taking Karla by the hand, he led her to his grandfather. “Dad, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to Her Majesty, Queen Karla of Bohemia, Duchess of Brandenburg, Countess of Savoy. Darling, this is my grandfather, Donald, Duke of Northumbria.”

Almost as if in a trance, the Duke found himself bending over her extended hand and kissing her fingers. “Your Majesty is most beautiful,” he murmured.

Before anything more could be said, Doug was escorting the Sloans over to meet his grandfather. “Dad, it is my great pleasure to introduce Major Steven Sloan, former commander of Carlson’s Rangers. I’ve heard you refer to his outfit on a number of occasions, so I’m sure you will welcome him in your house. And this is his wife, Barbara, perhaps the world’s most beautiful woman.”

To the Duke’s frustration, even though he was six feet tall, because of his arthritis he was so hunched over he found himself looking up at her eyes. When he did, he felt like he was drowning in them. Suddenly he realized that Douglas was correct. This might be the most beautiful woman in the world because of the inner beauty of her soul that radiated from her eyes. He found that he was stammering, the first time it had happened since he was a small boy. Then, to his amazement, he found her reaching out her arms and pulling him close to her body. When she did, he was almost overcome by the exquisite fragrance she exuded.

With the Duke in her arms, Barbara looked upward and whispered, “Dear God, please hear my prayer. I am holding in my arms one of the England’s greatest heroes. He led RAF fighter squadrons during the Battle of Britain that succeeded in turning the tide and inflicting the first defeat Nazi Germany had ever suffered. Without him and the men he led darkness would have settled over all of Europe, perhaps for generations.

“But now, dear God, you have sorely afflicted this poor man. There are few diseases of the elderly you have not visited upon him. I know that his wife, Claire, must be crying at the sight of what has happened to her lover. God, if you’re going to take him, do it! Otherwise, in the name of Your Son, Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, please relieve him of these many afflictions. Let him enjoy the peace and comfort he fought for. Restore him to the health appropriate to a hero who has devoted his whole life to serving you. Please God? For me?”

Suddenly, an incredible change began to come over the Duke. Slowly he straightened to his full height for the first time in memory. Then he began to hear sounds of all sorts. His vision was blurred until he took off his glasses and realized that his formerly acute eyesight had been restored. Looking down at his hands, he realized that they had straightened and were again very masculine, but slender, and no longer palsied.

Shaking his head he asked, “Mrs. Sloan, what did you do?” But then he shook his head and added wryly, “Donald Whitfield, that is one of the dumbest questions you’ve ever uttered in your life!” Talking to himself, but aloud for all to hear he continued, “No wonder she may be the most beautiful woman in the world! She contains God’s Divine Grace in limitless quantities.”

Looking at her shrewdly he said, “That wasn’t a request, was it Mrs. Sloan? That was an order to Almighty God Himself! You ordered God to restore my health.”

Suddenly in the clear sky there was an incredible flash of lightning and a simultaneous ear-shattering clap of thunder. At that point, the Duke dropped to his knees and prayed, “Thank you, Almighty God, for your mercy. And, in spite of my querulousness, thank you for sending my grandson home to me. Without him and his friends, this could never have happened.”

Then he rose easily from the ground. With a grin he flipped his shawl to Monroe and said, “John, I won’t be needing this again. Now let’s get inside where its less noisy. That thunderclap is still echoing in my ears.”

Before he could move, though, Doug had opened the rear door of the Lexus and Duke gracefully leaped out on the gravel driveway. “Dad, there’s someone else for you to meet. This is Karla’s protector. His name is Duke.”

To Duke he said, “Young man, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to my grandfather, Donald, Duke of Northumbria.”

The young tiger sat before the Duke in his very best house-cat pose, being very careful to wrap his tail carefully around his forepaws. He was so happy because on the way up from Newcastle Karla had brushed his coat until it glistened. She had even tied a lovely white ribbon in a huge bow at his neck, so now he felt that he looked as good as it was possible for him ever to appear.

Seeing the purity in the Duke’s soul, he communicated, “Good afternoon, Your Grace. I can’t tell you how proud I am to meet a real duke. It is indeed a great honor!”

The Duke was momentarily stunned. But then he realized that aside from everything else, these were the most grace-filled group of people he had ever encountered. And clearly this young tiger was speaking to him. Looking deep into the tiger’s eyes, he was impressed by the same things that impressed Doug. First, there was an incredible warmth in his huge eyes. This is a first! the Duke thought. But further, he could see an unexpressed longing in his eyes.

Then he extended his hand and said, “Welcome, Duke. Will you shake my hand? I would like to think of you as a friend if I may?”

Instantly, the tiger’s right paw was extended, so Donald took it in both of his hands and gently shook it. When he released the paw, he was amazed and amused at how, almost instantly and in the smoothest possible motion, it was beside Duke’s other paw and again the tiger’s tail was ever-so-neatly wrapped around them. “You are Queen Karla’s protector, then?” the Duke asked.

“Yes, sir, I am,” the big cat replied, “and I can’t tell you the incredible sense of responsibility I feel, for I am only half grown. But for me to be protecting a real queen — and indeed, the most beautiful queen in the world — is an utterly incredible honor.” Looking very sincere, Duke added, “I would cheerfully give my life for her, sir. But if it should ever become necessary, I can assure you that her assailants will be very dead before I give up my life. I swear it!”

Then Doug told his grandfather how, as a small cub, he had attacked and killed two men who were attempting to rape two women he had been charged to protect.

“May I see your claws, Duke?” the Duke asked.

Duke felt an incredible surge of pride. Here was a true duke who wanted to check to be sure he could protect his queen. Extending his right paw, the Duke held it in his hand. Very slowly, Duke extended his claws and held them that way. Carefully the Duke checked a claw with his other finger. As he suspected, it was razor sharp. “And your teeth are sharp, too, I imagine,” the Duke said.

“Oh, indeed, Your Grace!” Duke replied. Then he opened his huge mouth, and drew back his lips revealing his set of perfect teeth.

They were, the Duke realized, sharp indeed.

“Come on, young fellow,” the Duke said. “Will you walk beside me, inside? I would like to show the others around the castle, and I certainly hope you will accompany us.”

After a full tour of the castle and its battlements, they retired to the Duke’s magnificent oak-paneled library. The room was a full two stories high and had a spiral staircase leading up to the second level of book shelves on the mezzanine level above. Monroe had a very cheery fire burning in the fireplace and was waiting to take refreshment orders.

“Steve, I know that you and Barb are normally martini drinkers, but Dad has a secret source for possibly the world’s finest Scotch. Would you care to try it?”