Stiletto Dolls

by C. L. Black

  Danielle frowned. “But Miss Jane, I wanted to be yours.”

  Jane didn’t respond. Mistress Sterling’s eyes stayed fixed on the new doll as she continued. “Well, Sam. Do you accept my challenge or do you not, Mistress Resnik?”

  Samantha released Catherine from her sticky eye-paws to have it out with Jane. “Very well, Mistress Sterling, I accept your challenge. I shall oppose you, and the baby. I request the other baby serve as my little helper.” She was pointing at Danielle.

  Baby? I’ll show you.

  Miss Christi’s eyes acknowledged her approval.

  Danielle’s frown lifted.

  “Hey! What’s going on? I thought Chess had two opponents.”

  Danielle could barely contain her excitement. “Don’t worry, babe; Miss Jane’s a blast to play with.” She laughed then looked victoriously to Samantha. “I hope we lose!”

  “Great! Just what I need; a little pussy. Maybe I should have requested your wicked sister.”

  Samantha’s remark put the frown back on Danielle’s face.

  Jane said, “Too bloody late Sam! And—the wager?”

  Giselle was quick to offer, “I know, Miss Jane. The Chamber of Dark Passions, with our special guest.”

  “Fair enough, sweetie. The victor shall enjoy total control for one hour.”

  “Make it two,” ventured Samantha.

  “Done! Two it shall be. Only Giselle; not the kittens.” Jane paused to reconsider. She conferred with Miss Christi. Though no words were spoken, their eyes were agreed. “Right; much too soon for that.”

  Samantha protested, “Oh please, Jane. I’m sure these two babies would find the experience most educational.”

  Two babies? Catherine caught Danielle’s evading eye. Not as advanced as your sister? Interesting…

  Miss Christi stood. “Miss Resnik! You know Blachmann lore. We shall play by kitten rules this night.”

  “Yes, Miss Christi,” answered a confident Samantha, not looking at all happy the kittens wouldn’t be part of the fun now planned for later that evening down below.

  “Come on, babe. Let’s go see what’s on the rack.” Danielle held out her hand.

  Rack? Her voice hushed, Catherine asked Miss Christi, “Why are we changing?”

  “You shall see, my dear. You two run along and prepare yourselves.” She shooed them off.

  “See you all back here in twenty.” Danielle guided her babe past Miss Christi’s desk. They stood before the bookcase. “Danielle Wright.” Suddenly, it swung out. “Voice activated. Pretty cool, huh?” Behind was a dimly lit circular stairway. “Watch your step, babe.” Danielle led the way as the two kittens disappeared into darkness.

  This was Catherine’s first visit to the Castle’s lower level. They descended, emerging through another secret panel door. They were standing in a small lounge complete with tables and chairs. A long wooden bar ran along the east wall. A large fireplace was centered on the opposite wall. Paintings of women, some nude, others topless, hung from the walls.

  “Hey, is this place a porn museum or something?”

  Danielle laughed. “Not yet. Back in the day, it was known as the Meeting Place. Miss Christi calls it the Social Parlor.” They were one level beneath the Panty Parlor. The decor was distinctly Victorian, circa 1890s, with simulated gas lamps and dark red velvet draperies. Danielle explained, “The red velvet chairs at the bar were for the ladies and those big dark brown leather ones by the tables were for the gentlemen.”

  Ladies… “Like at a strip club?”

  Further away, Catherine had spotted them, four poles spaced equally, all in a line. Located directly under the library, it was the fitness and dance area, its walls all mirrored so nothing went unseen.

  “The ladies would—”

  “Stripper poles!” Catherine was staring at the fitness poles.

  “Yeah, babe.” Danielle could see Kat wasn’t interested in a history lesson. “Gives a great workout. Want to see? Remember. Never wander around down here alone. And never with my sister. Never! Do you understand me? Katherine?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” She pulled free and started toward the poles. “What’s this place?” Why’d she call me Catherine again? “Well, let’s see it, Dani.”

  Danielle took hold of the closest pole and gave an impromptu demonstration in the basics. She had Catherine’s undivided attention as she spun and gyrated. “You’ll find out tonight.” She righted herself and dropped off the pole then took her by the arm.

  “Hey, you’re pretty fricken good at that.”

  “Nah. It’s not that hard. Let’s go find our costumes.”

  Yes, it is. “So Dani, is anyone going to clue me in? What twists? What’s Chessex?” Costumes? What the fuck.

  “Come on, babe. I’ll explain the rules while we’re dressing.”

  Dressing?

  They backtracked through the lounge, passed the fire, and hung a sharp right into what looked like a Victorian-era woman’s fetish fashions shop. Catherine mused that it looked a little like an old Victoria’s Secret store. The room was filled with rack after rack of erotic lingerie and several life-size figurines dressed in sexy outfits of various fabrics.

  “That’s funny. It used to be called Victoria’s Closet. She was your great grandmother, you know.”

  “Yeah, right—holy shit! Where the fuck did you come from?”

  “Mommy’s baby mustn’t use naughty words,” scolded Giselle, appearing through a doorway in the rear, behind a velvet curtain near a display of several corsets. “Some were made by Mommy and some are from Miss Elaine’s boutique, Kristin’s Kloset. Didn’t you visit when you were in New York? Miss Kristin designed these corsets. Do you like them? The off-the-shelf pieces are all Hush-Hush too.”

  “Yeah, but there are so many. Whoa.” Catherine lifted a glossy white nurse’s dress. PVC. “Aren’t some of these outfits a little too, Halloween? Don’t you think, Mommy G?”

  “No, sweetie, I don’t.” Giselle took it and said, “I think they are all quite pretty costumes. This will go good with my new white boots; in the appropriate setting, of course. Don’t you agree, sweetie?”

  Costumes? “Yeah, maybe for a PCD music video, I guess. Is everyone wearing one?”

  Danielle tugged. “Come on, Kat. Let’s find your rack.”

  Kat…“My rack?” I have a rack? “Why do I have a rack?”

  “We all do, silly.” Giselle tugged back, pulled Catherine over to a circular rack in the center of the room. It was dripping with outfits.

  Mild to wild. “Remember that Elaine chick that felt you up?” Yeah, I remember. “Not what I meant.”

  “I know, silly. See, my baby’s own rack.” On top of the rack stood a pair of sexy shoes. Beside them was a polished copper plaque. Giselle read it for her baby. “Miss Katherine Katrina Black, Kitten, third class.”

  “What the—”

  “Look, sweetie; Mommy made this special, for you. It’s for next week.” Giselle pulled a strawberry red leather corset dress off the rack, “Like all the zippers?” She showed Catherine, before returning it to the rack. “And this, and this—Oh, this too! Don’t you just love them?” asked Giselle, now proudly holding up a white silk blouse and a black PVC skirt and matching cropped jacket.

  Catherine took the skirt. She examined it before looking inside to find the label. Kristin’s Kloset: Makers of Fine Fetish Fashions, Berlin, Paris, and Milano. She flipped it; For Miss Katrina GoodKnight by Giselle. She turned to Giselle. My fake ID. Her head shook, no f-in way. She pulled it together and asked, “You really made all these things?”

  “Yes, silly, I love making pretty costumes. Why do ask?”

  “Because…they’re really—nice. Yeah, a little kinky, but nice. Thanks, I guess.”

  “You’re welcome, kitten.”

  Danielle tugged, “Come on babe, let’s gather our things.” She pulled several items off the rack and handed them to Catherine. Danielle moved to another rack with both hers and Giselle’s
name on it. She picked out a set of garments that looked very similar to those in Catherine’s hands. “That should do us, babe. Come with me to our dressing room. It’s right through this doorway.” Danielle again led the way.

  They entered the dressing room. It was more than ample enough for the three of them. There was a two-seat makeup table, its twin mirrors surrounded by those big round light bulbs; a free standing wardrobe; an old-fashioned tub; a toilet; and a bidet. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors filled every wall.

  “You be good for your Auntie D. Mommy G has to go help prepare the new baby.” Giselle left them, and disappeared back into the dim hallway.

  “You can hang your dress and boots in this wardrobe, babe.”

  Each helped the other to disrobe.

  “Now what, Auntie Dee?” asked Babe playfully, overwhelmed by the view. Hundreds of naked babes were staring back from within the mirrored walls. This is it.

  “What? Now, we get dolled up for the game, babe.”

  “Oh.” Maybe she’s not as gay as I thought. Catherine picked up the thick panties. “What’s with these?”

  “Use two pair.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me, babe.”

  Both pulled on a second pair of heavy white cotton panties over which they pulled on a pair of white vinyl rumba pants. Next, on went their push-up bras, followed by the Victorian-era corsets. Each laced up the others.

  “Is that too tight, babe?”

  “I can still breathe, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Good.” Danielle tied her babe off with a fancy double bow. “Okay, your turn… You have to pull harder, baby… Yeah, that’s good. Yeah, harder! Once more… Yeah, now tie it, babe.”

  “Okay.” Catherine tied the now-squeezed Dani doll off using a simple double bow. “You’re all set!”

  As they continued dressing, Danielle gave her Katrina doll an overview of the rules of Blachmann Chess, or Chessex, as it was known within the Castle. “Each kitten—that’s us—moves the chess pieces as her mistress instructs. Don’t make a mistake, babe. Because, if you do, the move still counts, just like in regular chess. All moves are final. Once you touch it, move it or lose it. Understand, Kat?”

  Kat nodded at the hundreds of way-hot Dani dolls.

  “When a piece is captured, an article of clothing must be surrendered. The kitten’s clothes are represented by the eight pawns. Except if you lose your queen. The other pieces are symbols for your mistresses’ armor. The goal is to strip your opponents of their armor.

  “You mean our clothes?”

  “Yes. You look awesome, by the way.”

  “You too, doll.”

  “Thanks, Kat. As each piece is surrendered, the designated article of clothing is removed and you become more and more exposed. In the end, your mistress must either retire or risk exposing herself for all to see. Once you accept the challenge, there is no turning back. You must play the game to the end. Your mistress may surrender her whip at any time, or if you lose, you’re stripped naked and taken by your capturer to fulfill the terms of the contract. Get the picture?”

  Whip… “I think so, sort of.” Catherine shrugged. MK blurted, “It’s like, strip chess! Right?”

  “Well, yes, kind of—more like a frolic. But there’s a little more to it. You’ll see.”

  “What do you mean, frolic? And—what about the queen?”

  Danielle continued dressing. “It’s just theater. Like a play? There, almost finished. Just need to put on our girly gloves.” She sounded all girly sweet, not at all like Drill Sergeant Danielle. She sure didn’t look like her either.

  “But. . .what about the queen?” Bite me.

  “You’ll see, babe. I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

  Both wore matching “little girl” outfits. Not surprisingly, neither looked very little in the extremely short black PVC skater’s skirts and low-cut, sheer white silk blouses. Their skirt’s volume was enhanced by two multilayer petticoats made of white taffeta and trimmed with pink satin ruffles. Assisting their waist-cinching corsets, each wore a white satin push-up demi cup bra that seemed way too small, but proved more than up to their cleavage-enhancing task. Down below, each also wore a white satin garter belt holding up a pair of sheer white stockings over which they added frilly pink cotton ankle socks. Their shoes, by Domina, were black patent Mary Jane’s with locking ankle straps and six-inch platform heels. Both finished off the look with a wide shiny black belt and a pair of frilly white silk servants’ gloves.

  “You ready to get your ass whipped, babe?”

  “Me? No fricken way! You’re the one who’s going down tonight, Miss Dani.”

  “We’ll see, baby; wait, let me fluff your hair a little.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Bet that’s not all you want to fluff? MK head whipped around, giving all more than a little thrill as Catherine’s hair brushed Dani’s, doll face.

  Chessex, Anyone?

  The Panty Parlor, 20:45 local

  Dressed like dolls, the girls waited for the others to return. Miss Christi was still dressed for dinner. She began telling the not-so-little girls of the first tragedy to beset the owners of Blachmann Castle.

  “Sadly, neither would ever set eyes on their finished Castle. You see dear, they had set sail about the HMS Titanic. Hailed as unsinkable and the greatest ship afloat, she was taking them to attend a gala celebrating the completion of the Blachmann’s Castle. As I’m sure you know, events would soon change their lives forever. It was April the fourteenth, the night of the black berg. The gentlemen were in the game parlor. Wait. Let me think. Oh yes. They were all there. The Grand Duke…”

  Seen that movie. Catherine’s interests wandered back to the dressing room. Her view drifted over the Chess-sex board to Dani, bent only at the waist, positioning the pieces. Oh yeah.

  “There, everything’s perfect.” Danielle glanced back over her shoulder to find Catherine staring. “Did I miss much, babe?”

  No response.

  “Catherine dear, are you listening?

  “Huh, what? Yeah, definitely.”

  “As I was saying, dear. The two wealthy men were competing for the ownership of the Castle and all its Mistresses—”

  “Mistresses? All?”

  “Yes, dear. There were to be six in all.” Miss Christi had Catherine’s ear now. “They were midway into the fourth of a five-game match. The Count had the advantage and led two games to one, when, they heard the great ship groan. They had hit a massive iceberg. Word soon came that all woman and children should take to the lifeboats, as a precaution. The Grand Duke of Saxony and Herr Bachmann agreed their designees should finish the game in New York. They never got the chance. Oh dear, I see our two antagonists have arrived.”

  Six mistresses… At first, MK didn’t believe Catherine’s eyes. Holy shit!

  Jane and Samantha entered from the foyer.

  She really is a Super—hot—bitch. Both were dressed like, a fricken dominatrix. Whips too. Mistress Sterling, covered in a shiny black patent leather military styled belted jacket that ended mid thigh. It was complete with officer’s insignia and gold medals. Her thigh-high boots, also black patent leather, sported five-inch chrome metal heels. Look an awful lot like mine. She topped it all off with a polished officer’s cap. This music video has everything except the music.

  “Awesome jacket, Mistress Sterling!” Catherine guessed Jane’s getup must have cost a small fortune. The crafting was of the highest degree, the tailoring, exquisite.

  Jane unbelted the jacket.

  Catherine’s heart skipped. MK stared, in awe of Jane’s equally striking black rubber corset with five chrome buckles. And look at the shitload of garters! They secured thin black rubber stockings. Rubber opera gloves… O-M-G! Yeah Cat; I’m getting freaking “hot” too.

  “Yes it is, Miss Black.” Mistress Resnik unzipped her jacket.

  MK tore Catherine’s eyes free to check out Sam—Mistress Resnik, was well fitted in a red leather bustier, ma
tching skinny mini, and cropped biker jacket. All featured zippers. She also wore a wide black vinyl belt and cap like Jane’s. They waited for, Freckles. Sit. She did, crossing her, nice legs.

  Oh yeah. Under the skinny mini an eyeful of red leather garters held up sheer red stockings, each secured by four clips that enhanced her long, slender runner’s legs. Samantha rose from the, lucky chair, standing tall in a pair of equally red five-inch stiletto pumps. God! Those tits look so good. Fake?

  Samantha continued her advance toward the dolls.

  Yup. But… “Nice.”

  “Yes, nice outfit, Sam,” said Danielle, with a hint of concern.

  Fuck me, Cat. This is way better than that concert your mom took us to for your fourteenth birthday. Fond thoughts of Christina’s singing and that act filled their head.

  “The dolls are positively stunning.” Jane turned and saw, “Nurse Giselle, well done.”

  Giselle entered from the foyer clad in the glossy white PVC nurse’s outfit and said, “Thank you, Miss Jane. I made everything myself, except the shoes.” In her charge, was this evening’s subject. Still in the pink baby dress, Daniels’s waist was now squeezed narrow by a corset. Around her neck was matching poster collar. She struggled for balance in her seven-inch ballet boots connected together by a short length of chain. In her mouth, a ball gag, held secure by a thick leather strap, ensured oral obedience. Her arms were bound tight behind her back by some kind of leather arm binder. And, much to Catherine’s immediate relief, Baby Daniels vision was restricted by a pink satin blindfold.

  Catherine took another long look at Agent Daniels. That corset. Her lower chest and waist were squeezed so tight it didn’t seem possible. She appeared to struggle for each breath. “Wow! What did she do?”

  Giselle giggled, “Nothing yet, kitten. I hope you win, Miss Jane.”

  “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll do my upmost best to keep your baby safe from the evil Temptress.”

  “I know, Miss Jane. Our special guest is all ready. Like it?”

  “Yes, very. How lovely,” answered Jane, lifting the blindfold slightly, giving the subject a peek. “Shall we begin, darling?”