Serving the Immortals

by Katie Douglas

  I wondered if she wore panties under her short dress, then I tried to push that from my mind. What was wrong with me? One moment, I was swooning because Monique was actually speaking to me, the next, I was speculating about Hannah’s underwear.

  As she reached me, she moved as though to throw her arms around me, then stopped herself.

  “Hannah?” I checked.

  “The… the mistress would like me to show you to your room. I’m not to touch you.” She looked unhappy about this situation. I remembered before, when she’d spanked me, she’d been able to make me do what she’d wanted me to do.

  “Did she compel you?” I asked. She nodded. I picked up my backpack and followed her as she led me upstairs to my room. I felt scruffy, unsexy, and unfeminine compared to her grace and the way her bottom caused her skirt to sway as she walked ahead of me.

  “Here.” She opened a door and waited for me to go inside. When I did, I saw a four-poster bed, illuminated by candlelight, and heavy velvet curtains obscuring the window. There was a roaring fire in the hearth. A thick furry rug covered some of the stone floor.

  “Thank you… oh.” I turned to speak to her but she had gone.

  Alone, I pulled a book out of my backpack, lay down on the furry rug, which was luxurious and squishy, and I decided to read. After a few hours, when no one came to tell me what to do or where to go, I got undressed, and because the fire was so warm, I climbed naked under the heavy covers. This place was very opulent, and I still felt more than a little uncomfortable surrounded by all this luxury. It would certainly make it harder to return to Prague to my lonely bunkhouse after this was over.

  Chapter Five

  In the night, when the candles and fire were out and a draft was making my neck cold, I heard the handle turn then my door opened with a squeak. Afraid, my eyes widened as far as they could, and I stared wildly into the darkness. When someone touched my shoulder, I began to scream, but they covered my mouth with a hand.

  “Don’t make a sound, and don’t move,” a woman’s voice uttered. I didn’t know whose voice it was, except that it was someone I’d heard before. I barely knew what was happening, when a gag was placed over my mouth and small fingers were fastening it behind my head. I was more than a little afraid as the heavy covers got turned back, revealing my naked body.

  “She is quite attractive, is she not?” The familiar voice spoke again, and I placed it as Monique.

  “Yes, Mistress.” That was definitely Hannah’s voice. How could they see me in the darkness?

  “You would like to play with her, wouldn’t you?” Monique purred.

  “If it pleases you, Mistress.” Hannah’s voice trembled in a way I’d never heard before.

  “Show me how you would like to play with her. But no orgasm without permission. For either of you.” I heard footsteps then the creaking of a chair; presumably Monique had sat in the armchair by the fire. Why didn’t they put a light on? If I wasn’t gagged, I would have asked them.

  Before I could think about whether there was a lamp nearby, I felt Hannah’s fingers on my breasts, dancing over them lightly like a figure skater. I arched my back, to get closer to her as she seized my nipples, one in each hand, between her thumbs and her forefingers, and she began alternately stroking them and tugging on them. I wanted to call out in pleasure, but through the gag, very little sound escaped. My nipples became hard very quickly, and I wanted her so much. I reached out to find her own breasts; I wanted to take them in my mouth and lick them all over, finishing with her beautiful dark pink nipples, which were still etched into my memory from the last time we fooled around. Instead, I had to settle for stroking them with the one hand that could reach.

  I was still thoroughly enjoying myself when Monique murmured, “Bad, bad girl, Sabine. I told you not to move. Hannah, you know what to do.”

  I was startled that she’d been able to see me moving in the dark. The hands holding my breasts now relinquished them, and I was turned onto my front. I tried to protest but the gag in my mouth stopped me making any intelligible sounds. I felt my wrists and ankles being encircled in something cold, probably metal, and when I tried to flex my arms, I discovered they were restrained. Fear set in and I pulled harder, trying to kick too. A sharp swat caught my attention as Hannah followed Monique’s instructions. Her hand was so hard, and the more she spanked me, the more I struggled, but I was held tightly.

  The bite of each new spank made me try to kick and flail my body, to get away from it, but it was futile; the restraints held my limbs fast, and soon I was making muffled grizzling noises into the pillow. I had forgotten how mean her hand was when she spanked; in every other way, she was such a soft, sexy girl. My bottom burned under the onslaught, and soon I was trying my hardest not to cry, while underneath me, I could feel the sheets growing wet.

  “Enough.” Monique’s voice was barely audible over the sound of Hannah’s palm making contact with my bottom. When Hannah stopped spanking me, my breath was coming in gasps and bursts. My captors gave me a few minutes to collect myself, then Monique spoke again.

  “Rub it better, Hannah.”

  I felt Hannah’s fingers stroking my bottom; my sensitive skin was sore. I couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but I was sure my ass must be very red. As her fingertips trailed a tingling glow across my stinging cheeks, I began to moan through the gag in my mouth, and I started to wiggle my bottom before I remembered Monique’s instructions. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. I didn’t want another punishment, but Hannah’s caresses felt so delicious and I wanted her never to stop. I thrust my chest into the mattress, to grind my nipples against the cotton sheets for some friction, hoping that my slight movement would go unnoticed.

  “Maybe she’s not ready to play with me, Mistress.” I could almost hear Hannah pouting as she spoke.

  “Let me check.” I heard footsteps, then I gasped in shock as I felt two fingers plunge inside me; they were withdrawn again very quickly. “Use your tongue.” Monique’s footsteps were followed by the creaking and she must have sat down again. I wondered why she was here if she wasn’t going to involve herself. Wasn’t I good enough for her?

  The next thing I felt was Hannah’s tongue pushing against my labia, then she began to lick me. Her tongue was as firm and determined as ever, and even fastened to the bed I had to fight to stay still, as my pelvis kept taking on a life of its own in response to her attention. Underneath me, the sheet became wetter, and my nipples pressed against the taut fabric. A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, and Hannah spanked me hard with one hand, not changing what she was doing with her tongue. I wanted to feel her fingers inside me—or Monique’s.

  There was a part of me that could barely believe they were both in the same room, let alone that Hannah was licking my aroused clit while I was fixed to the bed like some sort of prisoner, forbidden from moving or speaking. It was so hard to obey Monique, and I had a strong urge to buck and scream from the amazing sensations Hannah was causing. I needed more, as my clit responded to her and I felt liquid trickle out of my core.

  “Faster, Hannah,” Monique instructed. Knowing that she was watching everything Hannah did to me, that she was controlling this whole situation, was very sexy. Did Hannah have any say in what she was doing? I knew she was attracted to me; after all, we had connected before, in Prague. As she increased the pace, Hannah’s tongue demanded my full attention and I stopped being able to think clearly.

  The feeling started to build, like how I imagined it would feel to be gently dipped in warm chocolate from the inside out.

  “Put two fingers inside her.” When Monique spoke, I bit down on the gag and tried not to make any noise. Hannah’s finger traced a circle around my opening and I ached to feel her fingers against my hot, wet vagina. I felt her fingertips poised against my entrance for a moment, then she slid her fingers into me.

  “Fuck her.” Monique’s voice broke through the mist that was enveloping me, causing my pussy to spasm while Hannah
’s fingers began to move, and I drifted through a cloud of sensation. She was perfect.

  As Hannah’s fingers continued to move inside me, I heard the chair creak over the sound of Hannah’s breath, which came in gasps. Moments later, two hands reached under me and cupped my breasts, holding my nipples firmly. I whimpered slightly, clamping my teeth down harder on the gag, as I realized Monique must have joined the activity. Her fingers were so strong and she seemed to know exactly what to do to drive me crazy with desire. The fact she was touching me at all, after so many months of wishing for her, made bolts of pleasure shoot through me. I shuddered and strained against the wrist and ankle bindings, trying to obey her rules, to not move or speak.

  When I felt really close to an orgasm, I began to whimper, because I remembered that I wasn’t allowed. Monique responded by pinching my nipples hard. It hurt, and nearly brought tears to my eyes, but my clit ate up the pain and begged for more. How could it betray me like that? Hannah’s fingers seemed to get more slick from how wet I was, and I had no idea how to not orgasm as I got even closer.

  “Add a third finger,” Monique ordered. I felt Hannah’s fingers withdraw for a moment, and when they returned, they filled me so much more than a moment ago. I didn’t think I could take much more of this, and I wished I could tell Monique that I needed to orgasm. Hannah massaged my G-spot as she fucked me with her three fingers, and I was helpless to do anything to slow my body down, to avoid the orgasm that I needed so badly.

  “Come on Hannah’s fingers, Sabine,” Monique whispered into my ear. I shuddered and shook as my orgasm began, then I clamped down on the gag as I screamed through it, straining against my bindings, while distilled perfection coursed through my body. When I started to relax, I found my wrists were sore but my clit was still throbbing.

  I felt my wrists being unfastened and then my ankles. The gag was removed from my mouth, and on the edge of hearing, Monique’s voice seemed to fill the room.

  “That’s enough training for now.”

  Then, the door closed and the room was silent.

  I was just drifting off to sleep when I realized she’d barely touched me.

  Chapter Six

  The next day at breakfast, Hannah was serving and Monique was in her place at the head of the table. I wanted her to notice me, to acknowledge what had happened, but she didn’t. Neither of them acted like they’d burst into my room, tied me down, and made me come last night. Instead, everyone else in the room probably thought Hannah and Monique barely knew me, if at all.

  When I glanced at Monique a second time, I noticed that she wore a dress made of black with silver lace overlaid, looking like a sliver of moonlight in the night sky. The high neckline framed her white face, which was so pale that it could have belonged to a shapely and well-chiseled moon.

  I had so many questions. Why had they visited me last night? Why was Hannah subservient to Monique? Did Monique know what Hannah and I had done in Prague? Were they going to find me again? I could hardly concentrate on my waffles, and I poured too much chocolate sauce over them as I daydreamed about the night before.

  Not wanting to admit to my mistake, I ate the waffles with an excess of sauce, hoping that no one in the room was paying enough attention to notice what I’d done. The other women were all busy having a lively discussion about unisex bathrooms; I think they were trying to impress Monique with their various opinions, but she wasn’t sharing her own thoughts about the topic, and I wasn’t sure but I thought she looked like she was pretending she wasn’t bored. It was getting quite heated, and in a room full of high-ranking political women, I didn’t feel like I had anything to contribute, so after breakfast was over, I quietly left the room and went to explore the chateau.

  I was a little uncertain about what I was doing here, or where I was allowed to go, but since nobody had really told me I couldn’t go where I wanted, I decided to find out what the rest of the place was like. Partly, I was secretly hoping there would be a swimming pool or something equally interesting, because I wasn’t sure what I should be doing all day.

  Being a lover of staircases, I walked all the way up to the third floor, where there were two turret rooms and a lot of empty, dusty bedrooms with no furniture and only the bare plaster on the walls. Looking for anything more exciting, I poked and prodded the walls a little, just in case any were secret passageways. There were none.

  Slightly disappointed with the nature of reality, I looked at the floors. They didn’t seem to contain any trap doors leading to a secret maze, either, and I started to wonder whether the books were right about the features one could find in a chateau.

  At the other end of the building, I came to a second staircase, so I took that down to the next floor.

  To my surprise, the staircase didn’t seem to have a door or other means of getting to the second floor, so I kept going back down to the ground level. The same problem arose—the staircase kept on going. Was there an underground pool? Surely Switzerland was too rocky to make a basement a more sensible choice than an extra floor above ground. Finally, the stairs ended abruptly with a dark blue carpet. It was a dead end. I examined the white-painted wall carefully but couldn’t find any trace of a doorway. The carpet was firmly attached to the floor. Slightly disappointed, I realized there was no basement, just a badly designed renovation in which someone had forgotten to wall up the access to the staircase on the third floor. That meant I had to trudge all the way back to the top to get out of this stairwell.

  With an annoyed grunt, I ascended the stairs again. I think I was most unhappy because I’d been looking forward to discovering some unique and exciting feature, but it had turned out to be dull and ordinary. Of course there was no basement. I returned to my room and brushed my hair to pass the time, discarding my brush on the bed when I was done. Then, I went to my window and stared out at the landscape.

  It was snowing outside. Not the kind of picturesque cotton candy that adorned Christmas cards, but huge clumps of snow that hid everything in sight very quickly. I felt like someone in the sky had turned the ‘snowflake size’ dial up to huge, and now the landscape was obscured. If I suddenly felt like leaving the chateau, it would prove difficult. I felt a jolt of fear course through me as I watched the snow fall. I had heard stories of people who tried to hike mountain trails in this weather. They all ended the same way.

  I tried to pinpoint why I was thinking about this at all. Something wasn’t right with this whole situation. I knew I should run away, but somehow I was drawn to Monique; she was like a sparkling reflection on the surface of a brown river. It was the murky water beneath the sparkle that bothered me. I knew something was hiding in there, I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “Sabine?”

  I turned away from the view. Hannah had appeared in the doorway. She was wearing the same maid uniform as before.

  “What?” I felt mean, but things were getting weird, and Hannah seemed to know exactly what was going on.

  “I came to check if you were okay… um…” She played with a strand of hair nervously.

  “Why do you care?” I wasn’t in the mood for games. Perhaps if I was, I might have noticed that Hannah wasn’t being playful.

  “You didn’t seem very happy at breakfast. I’m sorry if I upset you…”

  “Go away!” The more apologetic she acted, the more annoyed I got. I threw a pillow at her for good measure.

  Before my eyes, I watched her fade into a weird mist then flicker back to herself again. My jaw dropped. The pillow had passed straight through the mist.

  “What the fuck?” I stared at her, struggling to comprehend what I just saw.

  Hannah rolled her eyes and picked up the pillow, then strode over to my bed. She sat on the edge of it and pointed to her knee.

  “No.” I raised my eyebrows. Did she seriously think I was going to drape myself over her knee when I’d already made my feelings toward her quite clear? She gazed up at me from where she was perched, and her round eyes wer
e earnest.

  “Little sisters don’t throw things at their big sisters. Over my knee, please, Sabine. You’ve been a very bad girl.”

  I wasn’t going to be spanked that easily; Hannah owed me an explanation and instead she was trying to punish me again. I glared at her in fury and disbelief.

  “I’m not your little sister! I don’t even know your last name! Tell me what’s going on and why I’m here or I’ll do more than throw a pillow at you!” I was really mad that she was trying to play another of her stupid games, calling me little sister when we weren’t even related. I picked up a heavy tome from the dresser and raised it to throw at her. I didn’t think I could hurt her at this point.

  “Sabine, put the book down. Get over my knee.” Her voice took on a new depth, and before I could throw the book, I was horrified that my hands decided to gently put it down. Then my legs walked me toward her, and I couldn’t stop myself from going over her knee, just like before.

  “Fucksake! I hate you!” I hissed at her.

  “Stop being mean. If you keep speaking to me like that, I might just wash your mouth out with soap.” When I glanced at her in disbelief, she looked perfectly serious.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” She might have ways of making me do what she wanted, but I was still able to talk back to her, which was some comfort, even if I knew I was making things worse for myself. I felt her pull my jeans down and then my panties, so they bound my knees, then she wrapped one arm around me, holding me exactly where she wanted me. Even if she hadn’t been keeping me still with her strange powers, I wouldn’t have been able to escape. The cool air on my skin made me unable to forget just how humiliating this situation was.