Cassandra's Conflict (23 page)

The baron waited until her protesting muscles had accepted the mousse, and then Peter, whose erection had been paining him ever since he'd first set eyes on Cassandra's naked body, climbed onto the couch and slowly slid the swollen head of his penis into the tight opening which was now so well lubricated by the mousse he caused no pain at all. Once he was inside he nearly came himself at the unaccustomed sensation of the foam around him, but such a look of fury crossed the baron's face that fear made the imminent climax swiftly fade leaving him able to gyrate his hips, moving his throbbing glans around inside Cassandra and pressing through the mousse to touch the thin walls of her rectum.

Every time that he touched them, Cassandra's muscles tightened reflexively, he would then be lost to her again in the sea of foam, and she would relax until the next touch until eventually the continuing sequence of contractions began to trigger off a pulsing need in her that she'd never experienced before. She ached deep inside her stomach, not at the pit of her belly where desire usually grew in her, but higher up and so deep down that it was almost as though it was against her spine. She didn't understand the ache, didn't know how to end it, but she began to thrust her buttocks out against Peter's shaft, quickly learning that as she increased the friction the ache grew more pleasurable and assumed a sharper edge.

Françoise moved Cassandra until she was crouched on all fours, resting on elbows and knees, and then the baron stood in front of Cassandra and unzipped his trousers, letting his own erection thrust free and putting out a hand he traced a line round her already parting lips. She was greedy for him, he could see it in her eyes, and when he thrust forward she encircled him hungrily with her velvet lips, letting her tongue flick at the ridge of his glans while she sucked carefully and steadily.

Cassandra saw the excitement and pleasure in the baron's eyes and her own excitement grew. Peter's skilled movements between her buttocks were having more effect than she realised, and the deep ache was spreading dangerously now but Cassandra was too busy licking and sucking on the baron's erection to really appreciate it. Then, as Peter's cock touched a particularly sensitive spot inside her back passage her abdominal muscles contracted sharply and the Japanese love-balls, which she'd completely forgotten about, moved within her. At the same moment the baron thrust his hips forward forcefully and she had to relax the muscles of her throat to accommodate him as the first drops of his semen began to trickle out of the tiny split at the end of the glans. She could visualise it all, and went almost wild with excitement as he moaned softly. It was his moan of pleasure that was her undoing. The thrill of pleasing him so much combined with the unexpectedly arousing feel of Peter in that forbidden part of her body and the rolling loveballs gave her only a split second's moment of tightness that served as an insufficient warning to allow her any chance of preventing the second climax that crashed down on her, and her body bucked so violently that the baron was very grateful he managed to withdraw safely. Peter was held tight by the spasms of her second orgasm, her muscles tightened around him so that he couldn't withdraw and couldn't control himself but instead spilled his seed into the highly erotic mixture of her tightness and the dissolving mousse.

Finally both Peter and Cassandra were still. Peter, somewhat shamefaced, withdrew and carefully mopped at her with a towel to remove the now melted foam that was trickling from her while Cassandra collapsed onto her arms in exhausted despair.

'Two climaxes,' the baron said in a level voice. 'I hope there won't be any more. You still have twenty minutes to go.'

'I couldn't help it,' Cassandra gasped. 'I hadn't realised ...' He turned away, totally disinterested in her explanation, and marked her chart for a second time.

'Ten minutes,' he called, and just as he did so, Lucy gave a shrill scream and then wailed with distress as her legs thrashed wildly in the air where they were imprisoned over Rupert's shoulders while Katya worked between the exposed thighs. 'One for Lucy,' the baron added, but Cassandra didn't feel any the better for the knowledge.

Although Katya, Rupert and Clara worked as skilfully as they could on her for their next ten minute session, they were unable to arouse her to anywhere near the level needed for another orgasm, and when they changed over Cassandra hoped they would be all the more determined to force one from Lucy while she herself battled one final time against the baron and his accomplices.

At first there seemed little danger of her failing again. The baron and Françoise simply caressed her body in a gentle way with their hands and tongues while Peter concentrated on her breasts, but then they all stopped their attentions at the same time and Cassandra looked at the clock, wondering if the time could possibly be up. In the brief moment of silence she could hear Lucy's ragged breathing and knew that the maid was very close to a second orgasm. Her spirits lifted.

'Sit up, Cassandra,' the baron said quietly. She moved up the couch, obediently lifting her upper torso from its previously reclining position. Peter removed the bolster and threw it to the floor. 'Now lick your middle finger,' continued the baron. Her mouth went suddenly dry and although she tried to force some moisture into it she couldn't. He smiled, and let Françoise bend down and suck on Cassandra's finger for her, swirling her tongue round it in such a suggestive way that to her horror Cassandra felt her legs twitch.

The baron saw the movement. He'd been certain that Cassandra wouldn't be able to avoid having three orgasms and this confirmed his suspicion. 'Now touch your nipples with it,' he said. Tentatively she let the fingertip rest against each pink shell. 'Harder than that, my darling! Françoise, lick her finger again. It seems to be rather too dry.' Again Françoise swirled her tongue round the digit and again Cassandra's legs twitched. This time Cassandra touched her nipples more firmly, moving the finger round so that the shells began to open and swell.

The baron smiled. 'Good. Now touch yourself between your legs. Did the others remove the loveballs?' She nodded. 'Excellent, then we can go all the way. Hurry now, we're waiting.' Trembling with a mixture of shame and desire, Cassandra moved her hand between her thighs and then hesitated. Peter quickly parted her outer lips to enable her easy access to the part the baron was determined she should arouse herself.

The baron thought that the joy of making her give herself the final climax would be immense. She would want to cry and yet not dare to show her feelings, and once again he would see the delicious confusion in her eyes that so entranced him as she tried to come to terms with all the different facets of herself he was forcing into the open.

'Now slide your finger around, my darling,' he whispered. 'Let me see you giving yourself pleasure. Run it up and down between the inner lips, dip it into the entrance and spread your own moistness around. It will feel wonderful, Cassandra, and I shall be able to see the rising desire in your eyes. Do it, Cassandra. You know you want to do it for me.'

And she did. She wanted to please him more than anything else, but she didn't want to lose the contest. She stared at him, her eyes pleading, but it was a fatal mistake because his eyes could drown her and she became hypnotised by them so that almost in a trance her finger began to slide over the hot damp flesh and she obeyed his instructions to the letter, until her clitoris emerged from its protective hood and rose up proudly, waiting for the finger to touch it and bring the sensations to a peak; but Cassandra didn't touch it. Instead her finger strayed round it, teasing the inner lips, entering the vagina and even moving around inside but never quite touching the tight bud of nerve endings that gave her body such ecstasy.

The baron watched her shining pink flesh and the way it darkened as her finger made the blood rush in and suffuse the tissue so that it swelled and expanded beneath her. His own breathing quickened and he wrenched his gaze away to see what Françoise was doing. She was licking round Cassandra's ears, dipping her tongue inside to swirl patterns inside the delicate entrance, adding further stimulation to that caused by Cassandra's own finger.

Cassandra's eyes flicked to the clock and she saw that she only had three more minutes to endure. Three more minutes, in which Lucy must climax again and she must not.

'Now touch your core,' the baron murmured huskily. 'Touch yourself there, where you ache to be touched, where I can see you throbbing with need. Touch it, Cassandra, and very lightly. Just flick it as you pass.'

Cassandra swallowed hard as she obeyed him. For a moment she thought her body would betray her, but although her breasts and stomach tightened and darts of passion lanced her body, the wrenching spasm was avoided.

The baron was surprised, and his eyebrows arched. 'Again, my love,' he whispered, glancing at the clock himself. There were two minutes left. 'This time touch it on the stem, beneath the very tip.' Cassandra wanted to refuse, although then she would have forfeited the game, but she knew that what he was telling her to do was fiendish because it always triggered an orgasm for her and her body was now so finely tuned that it would instantly respond. He looked steadily into her eyes, and almost crying with despair and the knowledge of defeat Cassandra finally let her finger do as he had intended right from the start, but at the same time she opened her mouth and exhaled, thereby releasing some of her pent-up tension.

He realised what she'd done and knew that it would probably work and although disappointed he was impressed by her control, but at the very last moment Lucy cried out 'Yes! Oh, please yes!' as her own tormented nerve endings were triggered into such pleasure that she actually welcomed it after all the frustration, and ironically this orgasmic cry of pleasure coming at the same time as Cassandra's final touch, forced her third climax from her when she had only needed to last three more seconds in order to force a tie.

The baron's eyes remained locked onto hers as she gasped, her pert little breasts shuddering while her belly heaved and rippled for the last time and sweat trickled slowly down it from between the breasts.

'Three.' The baron's voice was totally dispassionate, but his eyes were soft and Cassandra was certain she could see a kind of amused sympathy in them as he marked her chart again, and also put Lucy's second release below her name. 'A close contest,' he remarked with satisfaction.

'But one which Lucy won,' Katya pointed out.

'Yes indeed. As I would have expected considering the hours of tuition she's had from you, Katya. In fact, it should not have been such a close-run thing.'

'A brilliant game!' Rupert said with satisfaction, watching Lucy begin to dress while Cassandra remained slumped on the couch, her head hanging down so that her hair hid her face from them all. 'You've got a great imagination, Dieter. We'll need that tomorrow, when Clara's stepfather pays us a visit.'

At that, Clara gave a cry of dismay while Françoise too looked far from happy. 'Does he have to interfere already?'

'It's just a quick visit, Françoise. To make sure she's learning something from us.'

'I will certainly try to make his visit agreeable,' the baron said with a thin smile. 'For Clara also of course. Now, let us all get ready for dinner and then I think some bridge. A quiet evening will probably suit us all.'

He lingered behind as the others left until only he and Cassandra were in the room. She lifted an exhausted, tear-stained face to his. 'I lost,' she said brokenly. 'If Lucy hadn't come, then I could have lasted.'

'You'd still have lost,' he pointed out. 'She had to come while you could not in order to draw. Besides, while you lost this little competition, in the overall game I think this could be considered a win.'

'What overall game?' Cassandra asked.

'Now that, my dear girl, would be telling,' he said softly, and then ran a hand gently through her tousled hair before leaving her to dress and return to her room to prepare for dinner.

'But why isn't Clara's mother coming too?' Cassandra asked Françoise as they ate a light lunch the following day. 'Surely she's the one who should be most concerned. After all, until she remarried she'd kept Clara at home the whole time.'

Françoise, who was looking almost as sulky as Clara at the prospect of the forthcoming visit, laughed shortly. 'She doesn't know Claud's coming here. She thinks he's in America on a business trip.'

'Why won't he let her see her own daughter?'

'Because, you stupid girl, Claud only married Clara's mother to get at her daughter. He's always liked young girls, and Clara's a very young eighteen. He must have realised he could only get to her through Elizabeth, hence the marriage.'

'In that case why send her to you to gain experience? Didn't he want to teach her everything himself? I'd have thought that was the main attraction to a man like that.'

'He didn't want any trouble. Clara was very vocal in her protests when I first started educating her; he could hardly have had that kind of scene under her mother's roof.'

'Well I think it's perfectly horrible,' Cassandra said with a shudder. 'And I'm surprised the baron doesn't object to him coming here to check up on her progress.'

Françoise smiled. 'I can't imagine why Katya worries about you. Basically you haven't changed at all; you're just another of Dieter's victims, so obsessed with him that you're willing to do anything he wants. Underneath you haven't changed one bit. You're still incredibly conventional and very dreary, in a sexual way I mean. I suppose your personality's attractive enough and you're certainly intelligent.'

'Does the baron know Claud?' Cassandra persisted, ignoring the other woman's personal comments but registering the mention of Katya's fear.

'They were at the same school, although Claud must have been a few years ahead of Dieter. You'll learn that most of the men who come to this house have known Dieter from his early days; he no longer bothers to cultivate new male friends. He used to, but very often they didn't understand his way of life and he hated the continual disappointment and boredom. Women are a different matter; they come and go all the time!'

'What happened to his wife?' Cassandra queried, hoping that Françoise might explain the secrecy surrounding the death of the children's mother.

Françoise seemed uneasy. 'No one's quite sure. Dieter had gone to Austria for a couple of days. On the first night he was away, Marietta either went for a swim when she'd had too much to drink or deliberately drowned herself. There was no note, so in the end it was decided it was an accident but she and Dieter had been quarrelling furiously the previous week and I think he believes she killed herself.'

'Was he very upset?' Cassandra asked.

'No, not so very much. He'd grown tired of her, and she was always in tears about something or other. But, he had loved her once and probably it upset him more than he showed. The girls still miss her, although he never lets them talk about her in his presence.'

'Did Katya meet him soon after that?'

Francoise shook her head. 'No, Katya had known him long before he met Marietta. They go back a long way together.'

'Yet he never married her,' Cassandra mused.

'What is this about marriage?' the baron asked, who had walked up silently behind them.

Françoise jumped with surprise. 'We were only talking about Marietta and how the girls still miss her.'

He looked surprised. 'Indeed? Have they told you this, Cassandra?'

'Not exactly, but they bring her into conversation a lot.'

'Christina cannot have any memories of her, but doubtless Helena has shown her photographs and told her stories about their beautiful, fragile mother!' His tone was scornful, and Cassandra couldn't help thinking that Françoise had been overkind in attributing deeper feelings about her death to him.

'Is Clara ready?' Françoise asked him, anxious to change the subject.

He smiled. 'I think so. Claud should be very pleased with her; you have worked wonders in the short time she's been with you. Rupert showed me a tape of your first session with her. Getting her ready today demonstrated very clearly how fast she's come on.'

At that moment there was the sound of a car drawing up in front of the house, and a few minutes later Katya and a tall, distinguished man with greying brown hair came in through the open French windows.

'Darling, you're up at last!' Katya crooned, going on tiptoe to kiss the baron. 'I went with Peter to collect Claud from the airport. He's only got a couple of hours but I told him that you were already preparing Clara for his inspection.'

The baron embraced the older man briefly. 'It's good to see you again, Claud. How was the honeymoon?'

Claud sighed. 'Elizabeth took more satisfying than I'd anticipated. Marriage to a Frenchman for so many years had obviously removed all traces of the renowned English reserve. I had to keep thinking of the daughter in order to survive!'

The baron laughed. 'How sad! May I introduce you to Cassandra. She is the new chaperone for my daughters when they are here, and also the epitome of the sexually reserved Englishwoman, but we are working on her, isn't that so my darling?'

The older man's eyes were such a light blue they were almost transparent and when he stared fixedly at her, Cassandra felt hot and uncomfortable. 'I suppose so,' she murmured, dropping her eyes.

The baron chuckled and slid an arm round her waist. 'You see how easily she's discomfited! Come, we will go into the garden. Françoise will fetch Clara down from her room and bring her out to us. I think we will have tea on the top terrace. I have some men working on a rockery there but they will merely provide an additional audience. Katya, ask Lucy to bring us tea please.'

When Rupert, Claud, Cassandra, Katya and the baron were finally seated in various garden chairs on the upper terrace, Lucy brought out the tray of tea and then waited beside the baron. 'You can go,' he said curtly. Lucy bobbed the requisite curtsy but her disappointment was plain.

A few moments later, Françoise came out of the house and crossed the lower lawn closely followed by Clara. As they climbed the three steps to the terrace Cassandra realised that Clara was being led by a short lead attached to a wide collar round her neck. Suspended from the collar were two more circles of leather. These had been tightly wound round the young girl's large breasts and every time Françoise jerked on the lead, Clara's head was forced up and back so that her breasts rose higher into the air, the large dark brown areoles smoothing out as they expanded at the touch of the summer air.

She was naked, but there was a slim belt round her waist with loops at the back and front, and threaded through the loops was a wide length of very soft hide covered on the inside by fur, and this was notched tightly so that it pressed firmly between her thighs, tickling the delicate flesh and pressing on the vulnerable nerve endings.

Cassandra glanced across to Clara's stepfather. He was sitting very still, his breathing slow and even, but his hands shook slightly on the arms of the chairs and his cold eyes were fastened onto the uplifted breasts. 'You dressed her beautifully, Dieter,' Françoise complimented him as she led the girl past his chair. He reached out and ran a hand over her ribcage, letting the tips of his fingers just brush against the undersides of the heavy breasts so tightly upheld. 'I thought you'd approve!'

Françoise led Clara on past the watching adults and the two men busy working on the rockery until she was standing in front of her stepfather. 'Good afternoon, Clara,' he said politely. 'I trust you've been behaving well since I last saw you?'

Clara's body shook and she tried to drop her head but Françoise pulled on the lead to prevent her. 'She's been quite good,' the Brazilian girl told him. 'A little slow to learn, but you did warn us about that.'

'Excellent.' He reached up a hand and carefully cupped one of the ripe breasts. Clara took a step backwards and nearly tripped over Franchise's foot. As she struggled to keep her balance the belt round her waist pulled on the strip of hide and the fur pressed closer to her sex lips, making her gasp. Rupert laughed while Cassandra shifted uneasily in her seat, feeling the beginnings of desire stirring in her abdomen.

'Shall I show you how well she responds to us?' Françoise asked.

Claud nodded, still unable to tear his gaze away from his stepdaughter's bound breasts for which he'd been lusting so long.

With a smile, Françoise reached into the large pocket of her flowing skirt and produced a sable brush. Clara's eyes widened and her breasts rose higher of their own accord, so well did they know the delicious sensations that would follow. Carefully, slowly, Françoise drew the brush across the leather encircled breasts, making sure that it covered the tender undersides as well as the tops before finally running it back and forth across the nipples as they engorged and hardened while the breast tissue swelled with excitement until they expanded so much that the leather circles, unable to expand with the breasts, began to tighten painfully and Clara bit on her lip.

Claud licked his lips and took the brush from Françoise, encircling the breasts himself with its soft sable, then paying particular attention to the large, swollen nipples which he teased with the very tips of the brush hairs making sure that the touch was so light it couldn't trigger a spasm of pleasure.

Clara's mouth opened and her eyes grew heavy. 'I've often played with her like this for hours,' Françoise said in a matter-of-fact voice. 'Really I don't think Clara needs that many orgasms. She prefers the build-up to the release.'

'No!' said Clara despairingly. 'That's not true.'

'I hope you're not calling my friends liars,' her stepfather said sternly. Miserably Clara shook her head, wondering why everyone took such delight in arousing her but cared so little for her ultimate pleasure.

Claud looked at his stepdaughter and knew that his marriage had been worthwhile. This slightly overweight eighteen-year-old could be trained into the perfect companion. Once she'd slimmed down and acquired poise she'd be the one at his side on all the important occasions. Elizabeth would simply have to step aside in due course.

'Would you like me to suck on them for you, Clara?' he asked his stepdaughter. Her nipples were bright red now, standing upright and so rigid they could have been made of stone. She nodded, straining against the lead to get nearer to him. It didn't matter that she hated him, all that mattered was the pulsating need centred in her throbbing breasts.

'Say "yes please step-papa",' he ordered her.

The baron raised an eyebrow and glanced at Cassandra. She was staring at the scene with flushed cheeks, her thighs pressed closely together on the chair, while next to her Katya too was watching greedily but her eyes gleamed with satisfaction at Clara's humiliation in front of her new stepfather.

Once Clara had said the words, Claud closed his mouth around the thrusting conical tips of her breasts and began to suck hard on them. There was no subtlety in the sucking, no gentle pressure gradually increasing, instead he sucked harshly and greedily, and at every tug of his lips Clara's upper torso was pulled forward and thrills of pleasure lanced through her, building higher and higher until all at once her stepfather closed his teeth round the swollen tip of her nipple and she climaxed immediately, gasping with relief and excitement.

'Ask him to do the same with the other breast,' Rupert said lazily. He was quite enjoying the scene, although he didn't find Clara particularly attractive because she still carried too much weight. However, like Claud, he could see her potential, and it was always enjoyable to watch young flesh being tutored by experts.

Clara didn't want to ask him, but the neglected breast was now being quietly stroked by the sable brush again, and as it was in Franchise's hand she knew that she wouldn't get any release from the newly building pressure unless she obeyed and so she acquiesced. 'Please suck my other breast, step-papa,' she said nervously.

'Of course, my dear,' responded Claud, delighted to find that his manhood, which had nearly let him down on several occasions during his honeymoon, was already stirring. He repeated the routine on the second breast, but this time he grasped her nipple between his lips and pulled on it, extending it out like a teat until Clara was afraid it was going to be pulled off. He also kept her waiting longer, and she was moaning with need before he let his teeth fasten around her and again she was finally allowed to spasm with pleasure.

'Has she been penetrated yet?' Claud asked Rupert, sitting back in his chair while Françoise kept the still trembling girl upright with the lead and the two workmen watched covertly, their eyes round with excitement.

'Yes, of course. You said you didn't want a virgin so I got Dieter to do the deed, and very well he managed it too, isn't that so Clara?'

Clara nodded, and the movement made her still swollen breasts jiggle so tantalisingly that Claud began to lean forward once more but with great self-restraint he forced himself back into the chair. 'Would you like Dieter to make love to you again?' Rupert continued.

Katya turned her head sharply to look at her lover, who shrugged as though the conversation had nothing to do with him.

'Would you, Clara?' Rupert pressed.

'Yes,' whispered the girl, unwilling to nod again.

Rupert stood up and came across to her. 'Bend your knees and crouch down,' he told her. Bewildered she complied, and then Rupert crouched down as well and slid a hand inside the tightly pressed band of hide. His fingers felt the dampness where the fur had been pressed against Clara's opening and he moved them absent-mindedly against her already taut flesh until he could feel the moisture coming out of her. He then withdrew his hand and held it out for her inspection. 'Look at that, Clara! When you first came to us you were punished for being too slow in your arousal. We can hardly complain any more, can we!'

'It's probably the thought of Dieter taking her again,' said Françoise, running her long nails down the girl's bent and exposed neck.