Bound For Pleasure at Blackthorne

by Roger Hastings

  I slumped in my bonds, drained of all strength, as well as my male elixir. I hung there, gasping, my chest pumping air into my straining lungs. The nymphs were cooing, their tiny soft hands stroking my shuddering belly, or my trembling thighs. The king’s consort squirted more wine into my gaping mouth, and I swallowed greedily. All the satyrs and their nymphs not busy with me or Treise were drinking wine, pairing off, and tumbling about in the turf in their favorite postures for fucking.

  Again, the wine kindled a fire in my belly and my cock leaped to erection. This time, a cluster of nymphs pressed their mouths to my manhood, swarming on it like bees in a honeycomb. The wine they gave me obviously contained a magical essence with the power to repeatedly rejuvenate a man’s sex glands. I was a stallion, swiftly conjuring up another secretion of warm cum pumping into their mouths.

  I was giddy with wine and pleasure, the sensations whirling in my besotted brain. Satyrs, nymphs, enchanted wine. My vision blurred to a fluttering image of a bonfire, hands beating drums, the dance of lust, sly hands and mouths toying with my cock, and more wine pouring down my throat.

  I lost count of my orgasms. The nighttime hours flew past, and time after time, I bellowed out the primal song of my cumming. Some power in that wine, a power the vines drew from the earth, impregnated every fiber of my body. I was an ancient Greek god, deflowering and ravishing every pretty maid my eyes fell on. And down there on that stone slab, Treise squirmed and shrieked in ecstasy.

  My eyelids drooped. I lived a century, an eon, as a million minutes ticked away, and I was weary at last. The moon was dipping into the bay to the east. There was a lavender glow in the east, the early herald of sweet aurora, goddess of dawn. The satyr king’s consort was pointing at the glow and calling out to him. He crowed out, and the Satyr’s and their females roused themselves, gathering up empty wineskins and the drums. The bonfire had gone cold, and they scattered the ashes until there was no sign of it. Lead by their king, these strange creatures...no, no!!...strange people, drifted silently under the eaves of the forest. In moments they were gone. Treise and I were alone again.

  I looked down at her sleeping face from where I still hung, bound to the pillar of stone. She was sleeping peacefully, a radiant smile beautifying her face. I doubted I would ever see these satyr’s again, but they had given us memories we would treasure for a lifetime. I still dream of them, and dance together with those beautiful nymphs around that bonfire before waking. Forever after this night, whenever I shall pass close to this wood, I will stop and listen, trying to catch a sound of primitive drums wafted along in the breeze.

  “Sir Richard! Mistress Treise!”

  Shawe’s voice woke me. It was light, and my nakedness shivered in the chill breeze from the bay. Treise stretched in her chains, yawning and twisting like a kitten.

  “What the hell happened to you two? How did you get tied up against that stone, Sir Richard.

  “I can’t remember,” I lied. “But it was wonderful.”

  “We better get both of you back to the manor house before you catch pneumonia.”

  “I’m in no hurry,” said Treise.

  That night I made the most wonderful discovery. The effect of the wine on my cock was permanent!

  Selby was helping me dress for dinner the following evening when I told him of my adventure.

  “Oh, yes, Sir Richard. They have lived in those woods, oh, since before your grandfather’s time; perhaps forever. when your father discovered them, he had that bronze statue cast, and set it up in the foyer. The rest of the world has never discovered them.”

  “You knew about them, but didn’t tell me? Why?”

  “You must understand, Sir Richard, I knew of your fondness for hunting.”

  “Yes, of course. Yes, Selby, you did the right thing. You and I, and Treise, we must keep this to ourselves. I want no harm for those people.” I had another thought. “Selby, how did you find out about them?”

  “Oh, Sir, it was long ago. When I turned eighteen, part of my initiation was to be chained on that stone platform and left there alone all night.”

  “They came and filled you with their wine?”

  Selby sidled up to me with a sly wink. “Yes, and I drank eagerly,” he whispered. “What a power it has!”

  “And does it...do you still...”

  A soft chuckle flowed from his lips. “Indeed, Sir. I’m seventy-two years old, and I can still fuck two or three pretty maids every night.” His eyes misted with rapture, “And a fourth, if she’s being whipped at the time.”

  “Blackthorne is a paradise, Selby.”

  “Oh, yes. And eventually everyone here comes to realize that, even the girls we keep to be our maids. It’s only at Blackthorne they can discover female joy without shame.”

  Chapter Eight

  Addy’s Surprise Birthday Party

  “Please don’t tell anyone about what happened in the circle of stones,” Treise whispered to me at dinner the next evening.

  “I won’t,” I whispered back.

  “Attention, everyone,” said Aunt Caroline. “Tomorrow is the 21st of May—a month before Midyear’s Day—Addy’s eighteenth birthday—a very special day. Therefore, we have decided to initiate her now so she can be taken to our annual ritual in the circle of stones next month. There will be a full moon that night, perfect for our gathering.

  “Addy, as we all know, is Sir Richard’s sister. She is coming home so she can celebrate her birthday with us.” A wicked grin widened on her face. “We all know what that means—her initiation—but she doesn’t know about that.” She glanced at me. “Richard, we told you about your initiation because yours had been delayed for five years. You were across the ocean, completing your education. But the initiation is kept a secret from all the children in the family and staff. So, on their 18th birthday, they have no idea what will be done to them.”

  “You mean,” I said, “That poor Addy doesn’t know she will be bound and taken to that dungeon in the cellar to be stripped naked, abused and fucked all night?”

  “She knows nothing. Tomorrow Blanford will take her out to tour the estate in the cart. A man we will choose, wearing a bandit’s hat, cloak and mask and riding a black horse will gallop into the lane with a gun and stop them. Blanford will resist, and the man will pretend to strike him unconscious. Then he will drag Abby out of the cart, tie her up, and blindfold her. He will throw her over his horse and gallop off. After an hour of criss-crossing our lands, he will bring her back here and take her down to the cellar. She will not know where she is. Then as you said, she will be stripped, abused, and fucked in her pussy, her rectum, and her clamped open mouth all night long by naked male members of our staff. It will be a terrifying experience for her until she discovers the sexual joy of being fucked.” She looked at each of our faces. “I’m sure you men will enjoy watching,” she glanced at me with another wicked grin, “just as we enjoyed watching you.”

  My mouth dropped open and the blood rushed to my face.

  “And me, I want to watch, too.” Treise said.

  I was astonished. “You’re going to let her see us watching her? That’s cruel. It will break her heart.”

  “No, Richard. She will not see us, just as you didn’t know we were watching you when you were initiated. We will sit behind a black gauze curtain in darkness. She will have no idea anyone is witnessing her ordeal.”

  “Who is the lucky man that will abduct her?” Uncle Garrack asked.

  “That’s what we will decide now. I will pass out ballots with the names of our male staff. We will discuss the candidate, then vote. Since Addy is a blood relation, none of the family can fuck her. That is an unbreakable rule in this family.”

  “But my sister is just a child, even though she becomes eighteen tomorrow.” I said.

  “She may still be a child in your eyes tomorrow morning,” my aunt said, “but a man’s cock will make her into a woman tomorrow night.”

  We each received a card, folded in th
e middle, with a list of our male staff. I scanned the names, all men with the skill and appetite for inflicting sexual terror in a defenseless, unsuspecting girl.

  “This is very difficult for me,” I said. “You’re asking me to choose a man to rape and terrify my little sister.”

  “We are not gods, Richard. What we do to the bodies of others, we must be eager to take mischievous advantage of our own defenseless bodies. It’s a family ritual of role reversal once a year. It is the family sexual fantasy, and a necessary part of our education in our family business. We actually enjoy the lovestock putting us in bondage and being subjected to an exhausting night of their amusement with sex and torment of our helpless bodies.”

  The others were chewing their pencils in contemplation, or marking their ‘x’ with fiendish anticipation of enjoying the lewd entertainment my sister’s captivity and abuse would provide. I stared at my card, visualizing my sister screaming and struggling, being abused and fucked by one of these men. She was such a trusting, innocent creature, so petite and pretty with her perky breasts, her sensuous hips and the soft, warm cushions of her buttocks. In her youthful innocence she was completely unaware of what men would do to her body if they had the chance. How could I be a part of this?

  Aunt Caroline interrupted my dark daydream. “Mark your choice, Richard. The rest of us have already voted.”

  “Give me just one more minute.” I read the list one more time, desperate to choose the least violent man. Selby’s name was missing, of course. He’d be gentle. With my family staring at me, some drumming the table impatiently, I scrawled my ‘x’ by Chalmers. He seemed to love girls more than hated them. Crom hates—for the loss of his eye. I folded the card and handed it to my aunt. She glanced at it, made some marks on a paper, then wrote a name and held it up for us to see.

  Gregor! I paled and the room seemed to waver.

  Gregor, the huge black man who was never without his whip. The man who demanded three or four girls to fuck every day and night. The man with a temper. He would have my little sister’s defenseless, naked body to terrify, torment, and fuck, and I couldn’t stop it.

  “Are you all right?” Uncle Garrack was bending over me, a glass of brandy in his hand. “Here, drink this.”

  The next afternoon, an hour before sunset, we were waiting in the parlor for little Addy to arrive. I had already drank two brandies to steady my nerves. In spite of my misgivings, I agreed with the family tradition. We must all experience the horror that we inflict on our girls. Addy’s initiation would happen without my interference. And I would sit quietly behind that curtain and force myself to watch her agony.

  I heard her cheery voice chattering with delight as she came through the door and hurried toward us through the hall. She bounded in through the archway, hair rippling, her ripening breasts surging. Her short white dress flounced, exposing most of her slim, shapely legs flashing like twin trajectories to paradise. She flung herself into Aunt Caroline’s arms. Her huge flowered hat slid off her head as they hugged, and hung by its lavender ribbon against the long blonde hair cascading down her back.

  “Aunty! Aunty! We saw a deer in the path, and she had such an adorable faun with her!” She turned to uncle Garrack. “Oh, Uncle, how wonderful everything is. Such a fairyland around our manor house. Please, Uncle, please! Say I can go for a ride around our meadow and discover all of Blackthorne’s secrets.”

  I gulped down the rest of my brandy.

  “Of course, my dear,” our uncle said. “I promise you will have your wish.”

  She danced over to me and flung her arms around my neck, standing on her toe-tips, pulling me down for a kiss on my cheek. “Dearest brother, you’ll make sure Uncle keeps his promise, won’t you? I want to start having thrilling adventures right away.” Her face was a study in girlish innocence, her intense blue eyes wide with pleading. “I want to find out what men do for fun here.”

  Her already-developed breasts pressed against me, and her perfume made the blood pound in my veins. “The lamb begging to be led to the slaughter.” I murmured.

  “What did you say, dear brother?”

  “I said,” a lump in my throat made the words hurt, “I am betting uncle will not falter.”

  She pranced back to Aunt Caroline, her long, silky eyelashes fluttering. “Please, can’t I? I want my first evening here to be so ferocious I will never forget it.”

  “Of course, my dear little Addy. We all want that for you.”

  “Oh, good.” She spun around, smiling at the rest of the family, exchanging hugs and happy chirps of greeting. “But where are the maids?” she asked Aunt Caroline. “I heard we had lots,” she dropped her eyes with a shy maiden’s embarrassment. “I need to...freshen up before my ride.”

  “The maids are,” Aunt Caroline cleared her throat, “away on a picnic. I thought it best you not see them—just yet. We don’t want to...overwhelm you with their...services. I’ll take you to your room, and I’ll have Lara fix you a bite to eat. Dinner will be delayed tonight.” She turned to our butler. “Selby, would you tell Blanford to have the cart ready after our tea at four o’clock?”

  “Yes, Mistress Caroline.” He hid his grin with a cough.

  “And Selby,” I added, “please bring me another brandy.”

  “No you don’t,” said my aunt from the stairway, “Sir Richard has a very important meeting this evening, and I don’t want him to miss a minute of it.” She and Addy trotted up the stairs, Addy chattering excitedly.

  “This is going to be fun,” Uncle Garrack said with a chuckle.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I replied. “She does need a bit of growing up.” I groaned, “If she weren’t my sister, she would have given me the fastest erection of my life.”

  I watched through my open bedroom window as Addy bounded out the back door and hopped into the cart. “Have a jolly time,” my aunt said to them. “And Blanford, mind the path. There’s been talk of a wicked highwayman lurking about. They say he kidnaps girls and holds them for ransom while he does unspeakable things with their bodies.” She turned to Addy, “You be careful, child. We’ve heard he’s especially fond of pretty blond girls.”

  Addy giggled and adjusted her large white hat. “Oh, Aunty, don’t be silly. You’re just telling me a story to scare me. Nothing will happen to me.”

  With laughter, happy waves, and hand-tossed kisses, Aunt Caroline saw her off as the cart wheeled onto the meadow path.

  Addy sang snatches of songs and pointed at a thousand things, asking endless questions about the estate and the animals she saw. Twice, Blanford had to stop while she hopped out of the cart and picked wildflowers. She was so caught up with her frolic, she never noticed Blanford becoming quiet and watchful as they approached the north wood. She didn’t even heed the hoarse tremor in his voice when he asked, “There’s a delightful path meandering through the forest, would you like to see it?”

  “Oh, yes, Blanford. Let’s do.” She looked up at the evening shadows already darkening the wood. Her face became momentarily solemn, “Is it scary?”

  “Some think so,” he replied. He tried hard to hide his knowing smile. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Remember what your aunt said to you?”

  “Oh, my Auntie!” She snapped her fingers at the trees. “She treats me as if I were still a child. Nothing bad can happen to me in such a beautiful place. I’m sure all men treat pretty girls like me with kindness and respect” She saw the conical roof of Broc’s tower poking up through the trees. Waving her flowers like a sword, she cried, “Onward, Sir Blanford, to the dark castle. We shall defeat the wicked knight who dwells there!” She broke into a giggle as the cart plunged under the lowering limbs with interwoven branches that looked so much like the bars of a cage.

  They had ridden deep into the shadow-infested forest when Blanford glanced at Addy with a wily grin, “This gloomy wood reminds me of a poem by Poe;

  ‘It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,

  In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir
...’ “

  “Stop it, Blanford, you’re just trying to spoil my fun.” Addy looked up at the deep lavender sky through the snare of branches. There was a tremor in her voice. “Maybe—maybe we better go back now...”

  There was a rustle in the brush. A dark, masked figure on a stallion leaped out in front of the cart. He aimed a pistol at them. Addy shrieked and wrapped her trembling arms around Blanford.

  Blanford pulled up his started horse and called out. “What do you want?”

  The figure walked his horse up beside him and said in a deep, rumbling voice, “The lady’s purse.”

  “Be off, you bandit! The lady has no purse.” Blanford reached out with both hands and gripped the man’s shirt. Broc lifted the pistol, then swung down in a carefully aimed arc and grazed his forehead. Blanford cried out and tumbled from the cart.

  “You’re a pretty thing,” the chilling voice said. He grabbed Addy’s slim arm. “I think having you captive in my dungeon is better than having gold.”

  Addy was shaking and whimpering, staring at his head. Nothing of his black face could be seen in the dark, except for the whites of his eyes and his grinning teeth.

  Like a black skull, Addy thought.

  “I have a nice private place where we won’t be disturbed while I enjoy your feminine delights.,” he said.

  Addy’s face went white and screamed as he leaped into the cart and bound her wrists and ankles and blindfolded her. She was still screaming as he threw her over his horse and rode off with her.

  He fired a shot into the air to startle the cart horse, which galloped off to where Chalmers waited around the bend. Blanford sat up, rubbing his hands with anticipation, waiting for Chalmers to bring the cart back and return them to Blackthorne House.

  My family and I were sitting in a line of comfortable chairs behind the black gauze curtain. We would see everything that happened in the cell, but would not be seen ourselves. We all were totally naked, waiting for Gregor to arrive with his captive.