‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said genially. ‘I trust you have had your fill of this humble fare and enjoyed the company of your fellow guests. It is one of life’s great pleasures to enjoy good food and sprightly conversation together, feeding as it were both the stomach and the mind. But now it’s time for an amusement, the like of which only Glen Lothy can provide. As you can see we have a fresh consignment of girlflesh in the castle, and I think you’ll agree what a fine bonnie clutch of pussies they are!’
The guests nodded happily and murmured their agreement, a few applauding the sentiment. The Laird’s accent, Vanessa noticed, was markedly stronger than it had been when talking to them in the dungeon earlier.
The Laird continued: ‘Now, as is our tradition, we are going to offer up these lovelies for your pleasure tonight. But, we shall have a little fun with the division of the spoils.’
As he spoke the serving girls were going round the tables laying out slender golden keys beside the place settings. The guests examined them with interest. ‘You’ll see we have twenty-five girls and twenty-five keys. That’s one fine slave girl for each of you to take back to your room and enjoy till morning as you please. But who gets which girl? That nobody knows, but we’re about to find out. You see these pretty birds come ready stuffed. Each has had a little metal egg inserted in her pussy. Not a comfortable smooth egg but one with wee spikes on its sides. She’d probably like to lay it to make way for something better, but she can’t do it without your help.’
He took the remote control unit from the gong-girl’s hands, extended its aerial and held it up for the guests to see.
‘This sends a signal to the eggs. They start to buzz and the spikes sting like a nest of bees, which is an uncomfortable thing for the lassies to have inside them, as you’ll hear from their squeals. But they don’t stop and cannot be removed until the right key is inserted in their bases, withdrawing the spikes. But which key is the right one? That’s what they’ve got to find out by presenting themselves to you and begging for you to try your key in their lock.’
The guests were chuckling by now, as they understood the game.
‘I think you’ll find the girls will be very grateful to whoever has the right key to their lock,’ the Laird said with a smile, ‘and you can look forward to a fine night as they give thanks in the only way they know how. Now, are we ready?’ The guests held up their keys. ‘Slavemaster: will you be kind enough to stand by to loose the girls.’
MacDonald stepped up from where he had been watching proceedings from the corner of the hall and took his place by the big tethering ring that secured their leashes to the floor. It was hinged in the middle so it could be unpinned and thrown open, freeing every leash handle simultaneously.
The Laird held up the remote control and pressed the button on its side.
Vanessa and the other chain girls howled and yelped in pain. It was as though a small but angry wasp’s nest had erupted inside her vagina. The spikes of the egg crackled with electric sparks while its body buzzed like a vibrator. As the guests laughed, the girls flopped around on the matting, kicking and squirming about as they strained to expel the tormenting objects. But the spikes were angled forward as well as sideways and resisted the natural contraction of their muscles and clenching their sheaves about them only made the shocks more intense. All about her were thrashing bodies, splayed legs and bulging pubic mounds between whose wet lips were exposed vaginal tunnel mouths that alternately clenched and gaped as they tried to spit out the cruel silver eggs that glittered in their depths. They even jerked on their leashes as though they could in some way escape from the pain, but they remained tethered fast. Pain and deep stimulation combined with such urgency that it was impossible to think of anything except that they must get rid of the eggs at any cost.
The Laird struck the gong again and cried: ‘Let them loose!’ The Slavemaster snapped open the floor ring and their leashes came free.
Vanessa struggled clumsily to her feet, her thigh muscles twitching in time to the electric pulses at their apex so she could hardly stand. Other girls were still crawling forward or flopping about like stranded fish. Juices were dripping from her cleft, stimulated by the buzzing egg and expelled by the helpless contractions of her sheath. She must get rid of the egg, and there was only one way to do it.
In a desperate, bow-legged stumble, gasping and dribbling as she went, she made for the end of the table nearest to her and the plump middle-aged man seated there. Rounding the end of the table she twisted about beside his chair, spread her legs, thrust her dripping, pulsing, buzzing vulva almost into his face and sobbed: ‘Please, Master, I beg you, try your key inside me!’
With other girls stumbling past her he thrust his hand between her thighs, grasped a pinch of her pubic hair to steady her and slid the key up into her slot and the keyhole of the egg and tried to twist it. It did not turn.
He smacked her rump, sending her on her way to try somewhere else. Girls were streaming round the outside of the tables now, making for the first guests they could reach and presenting their pussies to them. The hall echoed to their whimpers of pain and desperate pleadings and the guests’ laughter at their antics. It was a frantic mêlée of naked flesh as they careened into each other, breasts bouncing and slots dripping, as they desperately sought release from their torment.
There was a cry as the first key fitted and an egg was pulled from the twitching pussy mouth of Jade Chain girl. With a gasp of relief she sank trembling down beside the chair of her saviour, a slender dark-haired woman in a dinner jacket, who picked up the girl’s leash and took charge of her prize.
Vanessa found a couple with the man holding the key and she thrust her bottom out at them, begging: ‘Please unlock me, Master! I’ll be so grateful …’
The woman held Vanessa’s thighs while the man slid the key up her by-now sopping passage. It did not fit. They pushed her away.
One by one keys were finding their proper homes and eggs were being withdrawn from clutching, tormented pussy mouths with sucking pops and held glistening triumphantly in the air. Through blurred eyes she saw Kashika claimed by a youngish couple who had pulled the egg from her dark sex lips. But where was her saviour? By now there were only a handful of guests left who still had keys held enticingly aloft and the remaining girls were dashing wildly, red-faced and tearful, round the tables between them as the options diminished.
Vanessa almost threw herself at a stocky man with grizzled hair and big hands who was holding out a key and nearly pushed her vibrating, pricking, weeping cunt into his face: ‘I beg you to get it out, Master!’ she yelped.
His large hands caught hold of her, prising her lips wide, and the key slid inside her. There was a click as it turned. She felt the spikes retract and the buzzing stop. He pulled the egg out of her hot, cloying, feebly twitching passage with a slurp and held it high; dripping for all to see.
With a sigh Vanessa sank trembling to her knees beside him, burbling her gratitude incoherently while he caught up her leash and tied it round the arm of his chair. He was by no stretch of the imagination handsome, but at that moment she thought he was the most wonderful man in the room. He had saved her, and her pussy, though sore, also ached to be used, a fact she had no doubt the stocky man, now her master for the night, would take full advantage of. How easily they manipulated their emotions with a simple perverted game, Vanessa thought dizzily. But then they had also surrendered their rights to those along with their bodies. It was another level of submission and darkly exciting.
The last girl found her key holder, the Laird struck the gong intimately supported by its living hanger and there was a round of applause.
‘Well done, all,’ the Laird said cheerfully. ‘Now you might still find the eggs useful. They won’t activate again but if you pop them in their mouths it’ll keep their tongues in place. It saves them for more important tasks …’
The guests laughed at the notion and followed his advice. Vanessa found her jaws prised
open and the egg, still warm and wet with her own juices, was pushed into her mouth. Her master twisted the key and the spikes extended, filling her mouth and pressing her tongue firmly down and leaving the silver base of the egg with its keyhole showing between her lips. It made a fine gag, painfully filling her mouth and totally crushing any desire on her part to attempt to speak or indeed make any sound. She was mute until her new master chose to unlock her.
The Laird pushed back his seat and rose, bowing formally to his left and right. ‘And now, as we are replete and ensured warm and willing bedmates, I thank you for your company at my table and bid you, one and all, a very good night.’
The guests rose and bowed back to him in turn. He left the room with his pets at his heels.
Vanessa felt a tug on her collar in turn and scrambled to her feet. Her master joined the other guests as they led their prizes out into the entrance hall and up the broad flight of the main staircase to their bedrooms. At the head of the stairs the company parted. She saw Kashika being led off in the other direction between the couple who had won her. Both of their hands were already fondling the perfect brown contours of her bottom. She hoped they appreciated what a wonderful creature they had so briefly in their possession.
As Vanessa trotted obediently along a thickly carpetted corridor hung with Scottish landscape paintings she realised that, though she was shortly going to serve the man who held her leash in the most intimate manner possible, she might never know his name. As long as she knew the company had vetted him there was no need. For tonight he was her master and she was his slave. There was no chance of mistaking him for anybody else and it made no difference to what was to come.
The perversity of her situation struck her with a thrill of fearful delight. She was about to have sex, of a kind beyond her power to choose or refuse, with a total stranger who had chosen her on the basis of pure chance. He might also punish her first purely for his own amusement, yet she was following after him like a docile animal. Many people would call what she was doing perverted, or think she’d been brainwashed or beaten into submission. A few months ago she would have been one of them. Yet now her nipples only strained a little harder and the familiar warm tingle of anticipation fizzed in her loins.
Perhaps it was this stimulation that caused a fresh insight into the deeper nature of her slavishness to strike her. What a time to get philosophical, she thought, yet on the other hand what better time for a slave?
She wanted to please her master-for-the-night and therefore the Laird and so in turn Shiller because she respected her so much, but her ultimate surrender was always to her own nature. This was because she was not doing this for him or them, but for herself. That had to come first before one could surrender one’s body to another with perfect confidence. It meant by submitting she was really doing exactly what she wanted to do. Seen from a certain angle her slavery actually appeared indulgent and rather selfish. Did that make her a naughty girl, she thought wryly? If so she was going to receive her rightful comeuppance. How very moral …
Her master-for-the-night’s room was a tastefully furnished en-suite, blending old-world architecture with all the modern conveniences. The bed was a contemporary version of a four-poster with a trim canopy, the frame formed of chunky black-stained square timbers. You had to look a second time to see the black metal eyebolts set at strategic points about its posts. In one corner stood a padded trestle set on a wheeled base, while on the wall beside it was a small rack of restraints, lashes and sex-toys. The Laird really did provide his guests with every convenience. She wondered how much they paid for a week’s stay? More than she could ever afford, that was for sure. How lucky she was to enjoy all this for free and be herself at the same time.
He stood her on a mat and looked her over, his lumpy features creased in a smile, inspecting her body intimately and noting her reactions. His big hands felt hard and capable, moulding the flesh of her breasts and buttocks as he squeezed them. He’s worked a lot with them until recently, she thought. His manner was assured and masterful. She appreciated his taking the time to accustom her to his touch, even if it was entirely for his own satisfaction.
As he examined her he said nothing. There was no need. They each knew their respective roles perfectly. It was nice to be appreciated by a man who understood the value of girlflesh.
He bound her across the padded trestle so that her stomach was doubled over the beam. Her arms and legs were spread and strapped to the splayed legs of the trestle, forcing her bottom up into the air and spreading her groin wide open. He removed the spiked egg from her mouth and replaced it with a thick rubber bit-gag that would give her plenty to bite down on.
Taking a rubber paddle from the rack he dragged the blade over the glistening split-peach of her sex a few times to wet it, and then began to lay it across her buttocks, each firm smack sending shivers through her flesh. It was a methodical punishment and he paused after every few blows to cup her swollen sex pouch, testing its heat and wetness. When her bottom was an even redness he turned his attention to the inviting swell of her vulva, swinging upwards with the paddle. Her puffy inner labia and the erect nub of her clitoris were so prominent they suffered, if that was the right word, with the rest of her pussy, each impact setting mini-firecrackers of pleasure bursting in her brain.
Vanessa groaned and chewed on her bit and felt the lust rising to boiling point inside her. Any moment now she would cum!
Then abruptly he stopped.
She moaned and shook her head, pleading with her hollow eyes, desperate for relief. But he simply hung up the paddle, patted her smarting bottom and went through into the bathroom. After a minute she heard a shower running.
Vanessa squirmed miserably in her bonds, but of course she was utterly helpless and quite unable to relieve her own suffering. Her pussy was throbbing and dripping so much she thought she would faint from need. It was the perfect piece of foreplay by a master, proving his total dominance of her. She was his to use and leave at his whim. Now she was forced to await his pleasure, simmering with unrequited want, by whatever means he cared to exercise it next.
It was a quarter of an hour before he emerged from the bathroom. He had changed into a dressing gown. She raised her pleading face to him and he smiled back, rubbing his hands.
As she watched he took a box out from under the bed and from it removed and laid out an array of broad straps fitted with large hitching rings, two lengths of heavy cords with handles at one end and hooks at the other, a pair of pulley blocks and what looked like a dildo on the end of a rod like a broom handle with a hook on its end. Then he unfastened her from the trestle and, grasping a handful of her hair in one of his strong hands, led her over to the bed and laid her face down. The power in his stocky body was exciting to feel.
After strapping her wrists together behind her back, he passed a broad strap under her belly and threaded the wrist strap through it, holding her arms secure and leaving the ring-ends dangling freely. He crossed her ankles and bent them backwards until her heels nearly touched her scarlet bottom. He threaded a strap through her ankle bonds and the big ring on the end of her belt, but left it slack. Another strap he threaded through the back of her collar, fastening it to her belt ring, also leaving some slack.
Vanessa was now securely hogtied but not tightly. Her master pressed a button on a small control pad hung on the side post of the bedhead. There was a subdued whirr and a large hook on the end of a wire cable descended from out of the bed canopy. The bed had its own built-in power winch.
He slid the hook through the big ring on her belt and sent the hook winding back up. The slack in the belt strap was taken in and she was lifted off the covers. The rising ring pulled on her neck and ankle straps, forcing her body into a taut bow. He stopped the winch and she was left slowly turning in the air a handsbreadth above the bed, her weight spread between her waist, ankles and neck. Vanessa thrilled at her own helplessness, her juices dripping onto the covers. What was he going to do with
her?
Her master hung the pair of pulleys on eyebolts set in the frame at the foot of the bed, threaded the cords through them and hooked their ends onto the sides of her belt strap. He hooked one end of the long dildo rod onto the frame between the pulley mounts. Then he pushed the dildo end of the rod into her greased anus and up her rectum. She felt it give as she was impaled on it. The rod was sprung internally, pushing her forward a little.
The man dimmed the room lights and slipped off his robe. He carried a slight paunch but under that he had muscles and his shoulders were broad and powerful. His cock stood out hard and eager.
He lay on the bed and slid under her suspended body, her pendant breasts rubbing and flattening against his barrel of a chest, her hard nipples scratched by wiry greying hair. She felt his erection rub against her stomach and then find her slot that was weeping with frustration. Yes, he was sliding inside her. But she could hardly move to generate the friction and proper penetration she now desperately needed.
Grinning all over his rugged face he kissed her bit-spread lips playfully, took hold of the cord handles that lay by his side and bent his arms, dragging on the cords that ran though the pulleys at the foot of the bed. Vanessa gasped as she was pulled downward in turn by the cord ends hooked to her belt, rubbing across his body, the tension impaling her fully onto his cock even as it drove the dildo hard up her rectum. He relaxed his pull and the resistance of the sprung dildo rod pushed her back up his body again, swinging forward like a pendulum, his cock being pulled half out of her clinging slot. Grinning at the expression on her face he bent his arms again.
She came after half a dozen swings, orgasmic fireworks exploding in her brain as twenty-four hours of pent-up lust was released. Her dangling body convulsed and bounced. But her master was still hard inside her and she realised he had not yet cum. Desperately she squeezed him tightly, feeling the friction rekindling her desire in seconds. God, she was an insatiable slut tonight!
The Girlflesh Castle Page 12
