Cassandra's Chateau

by Fredrica Alleyn

  At the same time as the baron was organising Cassandra, Rupert was doing the same with Nicola, except that he spent more time arousing her body once she was fastened. For Nicola it was all totally inexplicable and confusing. Rupert had emptied the first glass of champagne into her mouth himself, and almost immediately her head had started to spin. ‘I’ll be drunk at dinner tonight!’ she protested.

  ‘That won’t matter, it might even liven things up!’ he replied, an amused look in his eyes.

  ‘I can’t wait to eat again,’ continued Nicola, who still didn’t know about the role reversal that awaited her. ‘I suppose this fast was a kind of endurance test?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he murmured, and then his tongue was delving into the indentation in the middle of her hollow stomach before swirling lower to insert itself between the outer lips, gently lapping against the soft membranes until her hips began to squirm. Then he raised his head and nipped softly at the flesh above her hips, which made her breath snag in her throat. ‘Is that good?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll remember that. Now, you remember to keep drinking the champagne. There’s plenty more where that came from.’

  ‘I ought to have something to eat first,’ Nicola protested.

  ‘Not until later,’ said Rupert firmly, and he left her just as the baron had left Cassandra; helpless, light-headed and confused.

  At seven o’clock the baron appeared in Nicola’s bedroom carrying a white garment over his arm. He poured the fettered girl a glass of champagne from a second bottle that had been left with her earlier and as she drank it he unfastened her ankles and pulled her to her feet.

  ‘Put this on,’ he ordered her.

  She took it from him and examined it curiously, uncertain as to exactly what it was. ‘Do I wear it underneath my dress for dinner?’ she asked him.

  ‘No, it’s all you wear. You see, Nicola, tonight you and Cassandra will wait on my dinner guests. You won’t eat until we have finished everything, including our entertainment, which will also be supplied by you.’

  Nicola couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘You mean I have to act as a maid?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘A very special kind of maid, as you’ll see once you’ve put this on. Come, let me help you.’

  It was difficult for Nicola to keep her balance after all the champagne on an empty stomach but at last the baron had her in the tight-fitting corselette with an underwired bra, lace sides and back. It displayed a deep v of flesh between her supported breasts and fastened beneath her crotch with press studs.

  He stood back to examine her. ‘Very fetching! Now, with that all you need are white hold-up stockings and high-heeled white sandals with ankle straps. Cassandra’s outfit will be the same except in black.’

  Nicola stared at her reflection in one of the mirrors. ‘I can’t do it!’ she said in a low voice. ‘I just can’t serve you, Rupert and the others looking like this. It makes me feel …’

  ‘What?’ enquired the baron with interest.

  ‘Humiliated.’

  ‘Indeed? How strange. I don’t think Monique and Sophie have ever felt humiliated when they’ve worn outfits like this at banquets. However, you can always ask them because they will be taking your place at the dinner table tonight.’

  Nicola’s eyes were like saucers. ‘I won’t wait on servants!’ she protested.

  The baron’s eyes narrowed. ‘Indeed? In that case, my dear, perhaps it’s time you returned to England. I’d hate to think you were unhappy with my attempts to educate you.’

  ‘No!’ exclaimed Nicola quickly. ‘I’ll do it, it was just a shock.’

  He smiled and nodded. ‘Of course. Very well, finish your drink and I’ll refasten you until you’re needed in the drawing room. You and Cassandra will be serving pre-dinner drinks at seven-thirty.’

  ‘I must just use the bathroom first,’ said Nicola. ‘I’ve had so much champagne that …’

  ‘You remain here,’ said the baron, his voice suddenly cold. ‘I myself will come and fetch you shortly. Naturally I do not expect any accident to occur during my absence,’ he added softly.

  For Nicola the next half hour was highly uncomfortable, and it wasn’t helped by her tight-fitting costume and the pressure of the corselette between her thighs.

  When the baron finally returned he was wearing a burgundy evening suit with a white shirt and burgundy bow tie. She stared at him, thinking that he was the most sexually attractive man she’d ever met and wondering what she would have to go through during the course of the evening in order to make him hers, because she was beginning to realise that tonight was very special.

  At the bottom of the stairs she came face to face with Cassandra, whose all black outfit seemed to be if anything even tighter than Nicola’s and whose usually pale face was flushed either with excitement or discomfort.

  With a flourish the baron opened the door into the drawing room and his guests turned to stare at the newcomers. Giovanni made a small sound that could have been either appreciation or shock, while Françoise laughed lightly, like an amused schoolgirl. ‘You both look irresistible!’ she assured them.

  MoniqueandSophie,wholookedalmostas uncomfortable as the newcomers in their floor length, low-cut sky blue silk dresses, glanced at each other in surprise, wondering what was going to happen during the course of the evening.

  ‘Before Cassandra and Nicola serve us with our drinks,’ said the baron cheerfully, ‘I think they should have a final glass of champagne each.’

  ‘No!’ objected the English girls in unison.

  ‘It is necessary,’ said the baron smoothly. ‘You see, having fasted for forty-eight hours and then taken nothing in but champagne, we will all be able to drink it from you.’

  Nicola frowned, still not understanding, but Cassandra understood and wondered how she was ever going to comply with the baron’s orders.

  Giovanni who had played this particular game before, quickly filled two glasses for them and handed them over, his brown eyes gleaming as he watched them drink.

  ‘I can’t take any more,’ Nicola whispered to Cassandra, who for this brief moment seemed more like an ally than an opponent.

  ‘You won’t have to,’ Cassandra assured her.

  From the far side of the room the baron indicated with a finger that the two new maids were to approach him. Slowly they crossed the room side by side, one fair haired and full breasted, the other dark and slim. Together they made a highly erotic couple and there was a collective intake of breath from the assembled guests.

  ‘Spread your legs wide,’ said the baron. ‘Good. Now, Rupert and Giovanni are thirsty. They would like some champagne. Let’s see which of you can serve it first.’

  It was Rupert who knelt down between Cassandra’s thighs, while Giovanni positioned himself in the same manner beneath Nicola. The younger girl turned her head and stared at Cassandra in disbelief. ‘I can’t do this,’ she said despairingly.

  For a moment Cassandra almost encouraged her, told her that she could, that it would be easy as long as she relaxed, but then she remembered the baron’s words of caution and turned away from Nicola. If the girl failed so early on then that would be the end of it. Cassandra would have won and Nicola would have to leave the chateau.

  Rupert’s tongue licked at the creases at the top of Cassandra’s thighs for a moment and then unfastened the press studs beneath her crotch, opening the garment up to expose her vulva.

  Cassandra felt his fingers parting her outer lips and then his mouth was moving closer against her inner tissue. ‘Let me drink from you,’ he murmured. ‘Quickly, I’ve been waiting a long time for this particular vintage champagne!’

  She tried to relax, to let her full and aching bladder empty itself so that the Frenchman could drink what she now realised must be pure champagne straight from her, but her body proved stubborn and although she was desperate to do as she’d been ordered the muscles stayed locked.

  Realis
ing her dilemma, Rupert moved one hand higher and began to press down with his fingertips on the nerve endings there while at the same time his tongue skimmed across the flesh just beneath the opening to her bladder. She felt the tightness increasing inside her and knew that if only she could let the champagne start to flow it would be easy, but the first trickle still proved elusive.

  Nicola was struggling even more. Her whole body was rigid with tension and the feel of Giovanni’s mouth against her tiny opening did nothing to help her ease the fulness that the hours of drinking had caused. She stared at the baron imploringly, but he remained standing with his back to the fireplace gazing impassively at the two struggling women.

  ‘Hurry up!’ said Françoise, as the room stayed hushed. ‘I’d quite like a drink as well, and I’m sure Monique and Sophie are thirsty.’

  The baron’s fingers tapped against the side of his trousers and hearing the faint sound Cassandra knew he was becoming irritated. So did Rupert, and with one last upward flick of the tongue he managed to force the tip just into the opening of the tiny entrance to the bladder. Cassandra jumped with shock, and when he then pressed down hard on her lower belly and used his mouth to suck at the trembling flesh she felt the first tiny drop of liquid emerge from her. Then, as Rupert lapped at it delicately, she relaxed and within seconds he was drinking a stream of champagne from between her trembling thighs.

  The relief for Cassandra was indescribable, and she caught the baron’s eye. He gave the slightest of nods, then crossed to where Nicola was still keeping the Italian waiting. Lazily he swirled his fingers over her costume, taking care to exert maximum pressure where it would most affect her bladder, while the Italian urged her on, his excitement clear.

  ‘She’d better have another glass,’ commented the baron at last, and it was this that finally triggered Nicola’s release. Before he could even pick up a glass, Giovanni was drinking the heady liquid, his tongue savouring every drop as it flowed from her.

  When both of them had finished, their costumes were refastened and without a moment in which to recover they were told to go to the kitchen and fetch the food while the other guests drank their champagne in a more conventional way.

  ‘Fantastic!’ enthused Rupert.

  ‘I didn’t get any,’ complained Françoise. ‘I’d have loved to drink champagne from Nicola.’

  ‘Later perhaps,’ murmured the baron, noticing how flushed and heavy-eyed Sophie and Monique were looking. ‘For now, let us adjourn to the dining room.’

  The first two courses passed off without incident, but when it came to dessert and Cassandra and Nicola each carried in a large bowl of lemon syllabub, the baron indicated that it was not to be served in individual glasses.

  ‘Peel back the tops of your costumes,’ he ordered them. ‘Monique and Sophie wish to eat their desserts off you.’

  In silence Cassandra and Nicola obeyed, and their breasts felt grateful to be released from the tight boning of the corselettes. It was the baron himself who laid them one on each side of the long table and then carefully spooned the mixture across their breasts, piling it high so that all four globes were totally covered.

  ‘There,’ he said to Monique and Sophie with a dangerous smile. ‘I’m sure you can manage to consume all that between you. Just make sure that both of them have orgasms while you eat.’

  Strangely it was Cassandra who found this the most difficult thing to bear. She was so used to telling the maids what to do, and punishing them when they failed to meet the baron’s high standards, that to lie with her breasts exposed for one of them to lick and suck was shameful in the extreme.

  It was Monique who ate from their mistress. She stood at the side of the table and bent her head, accidentally letting her auburn hair brush against Cassandra’s shoulders. Then she began to lick at the sticky syllabub, and as she worked she heard the prone woman’s breathing quicken. When her mouth encountered one of the tiny nipples, she found it to be rock hard. Remembering the time when she’d been put in the punishment chair, she nipped at it with her teeth.

  Cassandra gasped, and the other guests watched her hips rise up off the tablecloth for a second before the realisation of what was happening got in the way of her dark, shaming pleasure and the promise of an orgasm died away.

  Sophie, who was eating off Nicola, ate far more swiftly and with less delicacy. She disliked Nicola, and made sure that her lips and teeth frequently bruised the delicate skin beneath the coating of syllabub, but every flash of pain, every tiny nip, only increased Nicola’s excitement.

  As her climax built she felt the pressure in her belly increasing too, and noticing this the baron positioned Françoise between her thighs so that if any drop of champagne were released at the moment of climatic pleasure she could drink it.

  Sophie had eaten most of the syllabub now, and there was just a little left on the tip of each long, dark nipple. She swirled her tongue around the base and then drew her teeth up the length of it, grazing it all the way along until she reached the top where she sucked forcefully at the lemon cream.

  Nicola gave a cry of delight and her whole body arched off the table while at the same time the muscular contractions that rolled over her body forced her to release yet more champagne from her bladder so that as she came Françoise was able to have her much longed-for drink.

  Because she was used to games like this, Françoise made sure that she kept stimulating Nicola’s moist flesh long after her climax had ended and the flow of champagne had ceased. This made Nicola’s cries of ecstasy change to moans of discomfort, but then Françoise swirled her tongue around the still throbbing clitoris and another climax was wrenched from Nicola at exactly the moment that Cassandra finally found release from Monique’s ministrations.

  When the two women were at last still the baron watchedtheirmotionlessbodieswithoutany expression. ‘We’ll have coffee in the small study,’ he said casually, and with that he and his guests departed, leaving Nicola and Cassandra to get themselves down off the table and adjust their costumes before hurrying into the kitchen to collect the silver trays.

  ‘Is that it?’ asked Nicola. ‘Has he finished with us now?’

  Cassandra shook her head. ‘I imagine he’s only just begun,’ she said, and had the satisfaction of seeing Nicola’s eyes fill with dismay. She needed to see that because she knew that as far as the second test had gone, it was Nicola who had won.

  ‘I’m so hungry,’ murmured Nicola as they hurried towards the study.

  ‘It’s better not to think about it. We won’t have a chance to eat until the evening’s over, and by then one of us probably won’t have much appetite,’ responded Cassandra.

  When they walked into the room with the trays of coffee it was clear that in their absence the group had been discussing them, because they quickly broke apart, watching them with appreciative eyes, clearly anticipating an exciting evening ahead.

  ‘While we drink coffee, you must have more champagne,’ insisted the baron, amused by the look of alarm on Nicola’s face. ‘Surely you don’t mind allowing my friends to drink from you in this way?’ he added. ‘I’ve been told there’s considerable pleasure in it for both parties.’

  While Nicola remained silent, Cassandra knew that for her it was true. It had been exciting feeling Rupert’s mouth and tongue lapping at the champagne as it spilled from her, and even the thought of it happening again caused ripples of excitement to run through her belly.

  Noticing a flush of pleasure on her cheeks the baron turned his attention to his mistress. ‘Cassandra, you have been chosen to provide the first entertainment of the evening. Giovanni has been telling us how much he admires you, and how certain he is that his admiration is returned. As a result he has wagered that he can bring you to orgasm in front of our eyes within five minutes. I think you should remove your costume before he begins; attractive as it is, it might hinder him and the time is short.’

  Slowly and provocatively Cassandra peeled the straps off her shou
lders and unfastened the press studs between her thighs before leaning forward and peeling off the corselette so that her breasts hung down a little. As she stepped out of it her tight buttocks were displayed for them all to see.

  The baron smiled. If Cassandra wasn’t careful the young Italian would come before she did, he thought to himself. But Giovanni had himself well under control; all that mattered was the woman in front of him: the woman he wanted for himself.

  Nicola was pushed to one side of the room and told to stand with her back to the wall until it was her turn. Giovanni then sat on the edge of a chair and ordered Cassandra to lie face down across his knees.

  She was expecting endearments, words of love to urge her on, but as soon as the baron indicated that he had started timing them Giovanni began to whisper something entirely different in her ear.

  ‘Why won’t you come away with me?’ he murmured. ‘I love you, and need you more than Dieter will ever need you.’ Cassandra hesitated, uncertain as to whether she should answer or not. To her shocked surprise she suddenly felt a stinging pain across one of the cheeks of her bottom as he tapped sharply with a fingertip, catching her at exactly the right angle to cause the burning sensation. She gasped, and felt a tingle begin deep inside her, somewhere behind her clitoris.

  ‘Tell me,’ he continued, still with his mouth close to her ear so that no one else could hear him. ‘Why won’t you explain? Why do you prefer a man who does not know how to love?’

  ‘I …’ began Cassandra, but she was too slow, and again one of his fingertips struck her a sharp blow on the other buttock and she squirmed against his knees as the burning feeling continued to increase long after the blow had been struck.

  As the sharp sensation slowly ebbed, Giovanni slid his other hand beneath her squirming body and began to search out her clitoris, which was already swollen with excitement from the strange erotic taps. When he found it he started to massage it gently, his fingers circling and squeezing it, but as she relaxed into the sensation he struck her on the buttocks again. The burning heat and the flutters of rising excitement began to join together in a wonderful tightness and she squirmed even more frantically against his knees, seeking still more stimulation.