Slave of Darkness

by Francesca Lewis

  ‘Did you bring the candles and the cotton?’ Sir Edward asked his sister.

  Tabitha’s tiny hands clutched at the top of Marianne’s arm. ‘Don’t let them do this to us,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s terrible, terrible.’

  ‘What happens?’ Marianne whispered back urgently.

  ‘Be silent,’ snapped Sir Edward swiftly. ‘Tabitha, we’ve already attempted to teach you discipline this way, and I expect you to show Miss Marianne how things are done. Get yourself in position.’

  Marianne stared as Tabitha, her head drooping, squatted awkwardly on the floor, putting her hands behind her back. Only then did she remember the strange metal rings she’d discovered when she and Steve had first moved into Moorhead House. Quickly, Tabitha’s hands were fastened to the rings and she squatted with her legs slightly apart, her breasts straining forward. Now Judith approached the servant girl, holding what looked to Marianne like sewing cotton. Carefully she snapped off two short lengths, licked and then wound them tightly around Tabitha’s puckered nipples.

  ‘Please mistress, I beg of you, don’t do this,’ whimpered Tabitha, but she was ignored.

  Marianne’s stomach felt hollow, her muscles clenching tightly with fear but also, undeniably, desire.

  ‘Marianne, position yourself in the same way over there,’ said Sir Edward, indicating with a nod of his head where she should go. Hesitantly, scarcely able to believe what was happening, she did as she was told. When Sir Edward fastened her hands to the second set of metal rings, however, she gave a tiny sound of protest as her arms were pulled painfully behind her back, her thigh muscles starting to ache because they were unused to her squatting in such a position.

  ‘What are you protesting about?’ he asked in amusement. ‘We haven’t begun yet.’ As he spoke, his fingers lingered on her bare shoulder for a moment, then she felt them move up through her hair in a soft caress that ended abruptly as he tugged sharply at the roots and her head jerked back. ‘It is fortunate indeed that you fell into our hands,’ he murmured, almost to himself. ‘I can tell how badly you need this discipline.’

  At that moment Judith approached and proceeded to tie a thread of damp cotton around Marianne’s nipples, just as she had with Tabitha. Marianne couldn’t understand why Tabitha had protested so much; the cotton wasn’t too tight.

  Sir Edward and his sister stood back and surveyed their two victims. Marianne could feel her leg muscles trembling with the strain of remaining in such an awkward position, but Sir Edward gave her a fierce stare that stopped her from daring to protest. As his eyes roamed over her body, her excitement grew. She’d never before been physically helpless, literally at the mercy of a man’s desires, and she was astonished to discover how much it was exciting her.

  ‘You know what you have to ask for, Tabitha,’ said Judith.

  Marianne could see by the look on Tabitha’s face that the girl didn’t want to ask for anything, but when her mistress started to advance on her she hastily obeyed.

  ‘P-please would you a-administer the candle punishment, m-ma’am,’ she whispered.

  ‘Speak up,’ said Sir Edward sharply.

  Tabitha repeated the request, and Judith produced a long white candle. ‘Is this what you want?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ muttered Tabitha, but her tone and demeanour said otherwise.

  Judith and her brother advanced upon their whimpering servant girl. Marianne’s eyes followed them. She wanted to know what was going to happen; needed to know, because it was going to happen to her as well. When Sir Edward shifted a little, Marianne realised that he also understood this and was making certain she had an unobstructed view.

  He knelt on the floor, lifting one of Tabitha’s feet and moving her legs apart. Then he ran his hand over her quivering belly before his fingers trailed down through her luxurious pubic hair. As Tabitha started to utter tiny mewing sounds of excitement, Marianne imagined what those fingers must be doing. But after a few minutes Tabitha’s excitement clearly became tinged with discomfort. ‘Please stop now,’ she begged pitifully.

  ‘It’s the threads,’ Judith explained, glancing over her shoulder to Marianne. ‘As she becomes aroused so her breasts swell and the thread tightens. I hope you can subdue your wanton flesh better than she does hers, or I’m afraid you’ll feel the same pain.’

  Marianne was unable to answer, because she could imagine only too well what was happening. For the first time the threads of cotton made sense. Tabitha’s breathing was heavier now and, despite the discomfort she was experiencing, it was obvious her pleasure was growing as her arms trembled so much the metal rings chinked softly.

  ‘I think it’s time to insert the candle,’ said Sir Edward.

  His sister knelt and Marianne watched in horrified disbelief as the tapered end was eased inside their hapless victim. It was inserted with wicked slowness, Judith’s wrist twisting and turning. The long wax cylinder was pushed inexorably upwards until only a tiny portion was showing. Sir Edward checked it, tapping twice on the end in a gesture that made Tabitha groan. Then the couple left her and turned to Marianne.

  ‘Now, Miss Marianne, it’s time for us to do the same to you,’ said Sir Edward. ‘Once a candle is inserted in both of you, you are each to keep it inside until we give you permission to release it. Should you allow it to slip out, even a fraction, then you will have failed to convince me of your desire to learn obedience. Do you understand?’

  Marianne nodded dumbly. She understood, but she couldn’t yet imagine what it was going to be like. All she could do was wait in an agony of excited anticipation as Sir Edward bent over her and moved a hand across her belly, just as he had with Tabitha. Then his fingers moved lower, through the light blonde curls of her pubic hair, and she felt herself opening up to him, her flesh already damp with desire.

  ‘See this, Judith. Feel how shamefully wet she is.’

  Judith touched Marianne. ‘I thought she’d been strictly brought up,’ she remarked scornfully. ‘It seems we may have as many problems with her as we do with Tabitha.’

  ‘Indeed we will not,’ said Sir Edward brusquely. ‘Believe me, I shall subdue her flesh before many weeks are through.’ Anger flared in his eyes, and then it was as quickly gone. ‘But for now she’s certainly ready to take the candle.’

  Despite her excitement, Marianne was afraid, and when Judith began to insert the wax taper inside her she tried to close her thighs against the invasion. Sir Edward promptly slapped her belly with the backs of his fingers, the stinging pain only increasing her excitement. To her dismay, her nipples swelled. For the first time she felt the cotton thread bite into her tender flesh and couldn’t suppress a cry.

  ‘You see where this lascivious behaviour gets you?’ said Sir Edward. ‘Do not resist my sister further, or worse will follow.’

  Marianne believed him. She felt the smooth candle being twisted, felt the delicious pressure as it filled her, but it was not as thick as she’d expected and when Judith released it she felt it start to slip out of her.

  ‘You have to keep your muscles tightly clenched,’ explained Judith. ‘Surely you didn’t think it stayed in place on its own. Tabitha’s concentrating hard at this very moment, aren’t you, Tabitha?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ gasped the servant girl, and Marianne could tell the unfortunate Tabitha didn’t really want to speak, because simply to do that would break her concentration.

  ‘Tighten yourself,’ insisted Sir Edward, and Marianne attempted to draw the candle back up inside her. She managed to stop it sliding out any further but, to her dismay, the result was an increase in pleasure. With sickening clarity she realised that should her pleasure spill, her muscles would first clench tighter around the candle and then relax, allowing it to slip out. It was only then that she understood what this punishment was going to involve. Sir Edward and his sister were going to pleasure both her and Tabitha, but neithe
r of them could allow that pleasure to reach its pinnacle or they would fail the test.

  She couldn’t understand why it was that, in spite of her terror, she was still aroused. She wished she could control herself, could subdue her desire, because her nipples were aching terribly and simply fuelled her need.

  ‘Since Miss Marianne is new to this I shall work on her and you can work on Tabitha,’ said Sir Edward. Marianne was relieved. This was why she was here. This was what she’d wanted; to have Sir Edward using her in any way he wished; to be at his mercy and learn to understand his perverse desires.

  ‘We must start together,’ he said to his sister and, in unison, the pair began to work on their two victims.

  Sir Edward’s hands were clever. His fingers wandered lazily over Marianne’s tautly rounded breasts, caressing lovingly one moment, and then pinching spitefully the next and drawing a wail of despair from her. She was trembling. Her strained position made every muscle ache, and yet, with his caresses her pleasure mounted. When he finally slid his fingers between her sex lips she experienced the same feelings she’d had when watching him beating Tabitha as she’d lain stretched over John.

  She was so wet it was shaming, and then the tips of his fingers touched her swollen clitoris and she shuddered. ‘You’re anxious for your pleasure,’ he smirked triumphantly. ‘Do you not know your wantonness is unseemly?’ He flicked casually at the centre of all her pleasure. The touch itself nearly made her come and she felt her internal muscles tighten around the candle.

  Only a few feet away Tabitha was whimpering on an ascending series of notes that made it plain that her pleasure was mounting too.

  Suddenly, Sir Edward moved his face close to Marianne’s and he stroked her throat in a gesture that was almost tender. ‘I know how you feel,’ he whispered. ‘I know what I’m doing to you, but it’s for your own good that you learn how to behave like a lady. I have to train you to be a suitable companion for my sister. How can I allow her to have a woman of loose character around her?’

  He was teasing, tormenting, and they both knew it. Marianne’s entire body was struggling to prevent a convulsion of ecstasy, and every time her muscles tightened and she felt them contract around the candle, shards of pleasure pierced her being. Suddenly, with no warning, Sir Edward began to slap her full breasts one after the other. The slaps were slow and rhythmical. Her breasts swayed from side to side under the impact. The cotton bit harder into her flesh, the nerve-endings reached screaming point, and then he touched her once more on her swollen nub of pleasure and she could take no more. With a scream Marianne exploded in a muscle-tearing orgasm and she shuddered, helpless beneath the power of the muscular contractions, her arms still imprisoned behind her. As the delicious relief finally ended and her muscles went limp, she felt the candle begin to slip from her.

  Sir Edward caught the end of it and pulled it from her. ‘Is the candle still inside Tabitha?’ he asked his sister.

  ‘Yes,’ said Judith. ‘But not for much longer.’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ he instructed. ‘I regret to say that Miss Marianne has already failed. Now we have to decide what’s to be done with her.’

  He thrust his fingers roughly inside Marianne and began to move them harshly in and out. ‘Please stop...’ she pleaded. ‘Please leave me alone. I can’t endure any more.’ Then, to her dismay, everyone vanished and she was sitting alone on the floor of the outhouse.

  Chapter 5

  It took Marianne at least ten minutes to regain some semblance of self-control. Her body still felt as it had while Sir Edward and his sister were abusing her. Her legs ached and her breasts stung from the vicious blows he’d dealt her. Also, despite the fact that she’d orgasmed, she still felt incredibly needy. His thrusting fingers had thrilled her, and she was left with a hollow feeling inside, a terrible need for the brooding satisfaction only the past seemed able to bring.

  It was almost impossible to believe what was happening. One minute she was naked, tethered to the rings that even now she could see fastened to the wall, and the next she was back in the present day, fully clothed. The tangible proof that she wasn’t imagining things lay, as always, in her body. She felt very warm, and realised she was covered with a sheen of perspiration left over from the excitement of the past. When the aching in her legs eased a little she stumbled to the door and let herself out into the courtyard, anxious to get back inside the house. How she wished she hadn’t protested when Sir Edward’s fingers had started to violate her. If she’d kept silent she could still be there now, discovering greater pleasures. She wondered if he’d ever possess her, entering her properly, or if his status as master of the house had always prevented him from consummating his strange relationship with his sister’s companion.

  As she opened the front door she heard Sandra’s voice calling from the front gate. ‘Marianne. Are you busy?’

  Marianne sighed and turned. This was the last thing she needed, but she didn’t dare turn Sandra away; Steve would be annoyed if he got to hear of it, and she had no real excuse to do so. ‘No,’ she replied, smiling as warmly as she could.

  Sandra looked relieved, opened the squeaky gate and walked up the garden path. ‘I was afraid you might be working, but I had to come this way and thought you might enjoy some company. Graham says Steve’s away at the moment.’

  ‘That’s true, but that’s when I do most of my writing.’

  Sandra looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought of that. Are you writing now?’

  Marianne shook her head. ‘I’ve decided to take a break. In fact, I went for a walk on the moors.’

  ‘I thought I saw you coming from the outhouse.’

  ‘I went in there when I got back,’ Marianne snapped defensively.

  Sandra looked startled. ‘I – I wasn’t doubting you.’

  Marianne made an effort to relax, knowing she was being unnecessarily touchy with her neighbour. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised. ‘I’m afraid I was daydreaming in there, trying to picture the place the way it used to be. Steve gets very annoyed with me when I do that, so I’m a bit defensive about it.’

  ‘I don’t blame you at all,’ said Sandra, following Marianne into the house and sitting herself down at the kitchen table. ‘I love history.’

  ‘I never used to,’ Marianne admitted, filling the kettle. ‘But since I moved here all that’s changed. This place feels full of ghosts to me. Coffee?’

  Sandra nodded. ‘Really? Perhaps it’s because your great-aunt lived here before you.’

  Marianne shook her head. ‘It’s not her ghost I sense.’

  Sandra looked intrigued. ‘No? Whose then?’

  Marianne wanted to confide in the girl. She desperately needed to talk to someone about Sir Edward, in the same way that when she’d first fallen for Steve she’d wanted to bring his name into every conversation. But it was somewhat more difficult when the man who obsessed you had lived over a hundred years earlier. ‘It’s the past owners who fascinate me,’ she said at last. ‘Particularly those you spoke about – they sound fascinating.’

  ‘You mean Sir Edward Sharpe and his sister? Well, you’re not the only person to be fascinated by them. Before your great-aunt lived here there was a woman called Judith Wells. According to my mother, she became utterly obsessed with the old days and even took to dressing in an old-fashioned way. Would you believe, she used to carry the keys of the house around her waist on a chain!’

  Marianne could believe it only too well. She understood why, too. That woman’s name had been Judith. Clearly Judith Fullick had come back to haunt and possibly possess her, just as Marianne Clifford had come back for Marianne herself. ‘So what happened to the woman?’

  Sandra looked uncomfortable. ‘I think she went a bit weird.’

  ‘How do you mean, weird?’

  ‘She ended up in a psychiatric hospital somewhere. I never got told th
e details, but apparently that’s why your great-aunt got the house so cheap.’

  ‘I didn’t know she did.’

  Sandra nodded. ‘Oh, yes. No one local wanted it, you see. There were rumours that Judith Wells used to roam the house late at night. And she started putting antique furniture in. I suppose she was trying to recreate the past as she imagined it. Quite sad, really.’

  ‘She must have been unbalanced to begin with,’ said Marianne.

  ‘Absolutely. Somehow I don’t think there’s any fear of that happening to you.’

  ‘No, the only thing that’s likely to drive me mad is my book.’

  ‘So what’s it about, or aren’t I allowed to ask?’

  ‘I’ve changed it,’ confessed Marianne. ‘Because of the way I feel about this house I’ve changed it into an historical novel.’

  ‘And that’s difficult?’

  ‘No, not difficult, but very different. My agent isn’t keen on me doing it and neither is my publisher. That means it’s got to be very special indeed.’

  ‘But you’re enjoying writing it?’

  ‘More than anything I’ve ever written before,’ said Marianne emphatically.

  ‘Is it a romance?’

  Marianne stirred the two cups of coffee thoughtfully. ‘Not exactly,’ she admitted, handing one steaming cup to Sandra. ‘It’s a tale of obsession.’

  ‘Obsession?’

  ‘Yes...’ Marianne said carefully, unsure of how much she should confide in her new acquaintance, ‘sexual obsession.’

  ‘Hey, that sounds good. How explicit is it?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. Besides, you can’t always tell. Often, once you get the right characters a book almost writes itself.’

  ‘Does it? That must be fascinating for the author. You must feel you’re not in control.’ Sandra glanced at her watch. ‘Well, your book might write itself but Graham’s lunch doesn’t cook itself. I’d better be going. We wondered whether you and Steve would like to come over next Saturday, say about eight?’