Stephanie's Castle (23 page)

'This is all
for you. Lie back and enjoy it. Don't think about me.'

Stephanie
closed her eyes. For a second she had a vision of Colette and
wished she had not been sent away. Venetia was applying the cream
to each breast in turn, avoiding the weals and massaging the plump
flesh and hardening nipple with one hand while the other was
circling the knot of Stephanie's clitoris. Stephanie thought of
Colette lying on the bed using the dildo on herself, her eyes
locked on Stephanie's face. The thick glutinous cream made the
contact of flesh on flesh almost frictionless. Venetia's fingers
touched her so lightly, so carefully, so tenderly Stephanie almost
wanted to cry with delight. This was not the rough wild pleasures
of last night, but, by contrast, the pleasure only a woman knows
how to give another. Stephanie's mind was full of Colette. She
wished she'd taken the dildo, used it on Colette, felt it
penetrating her soft wet cunt.

There was no
pressure, no need to reach a climax, no need to perform. The
continual movement of fingertips on swollen tender parts was end
enough in itself. The world seemed to be suspended. Thoughts of
Colette faded into the reality of Venetia and the little circles
she was making around Stephanie's clitoris. Stephanie thought she
was coming but it was so gentle and so quiet, so unlike the orgasms
that had torn through her body last night, that it was difficult to
be certain. Nor did it matter. What was certain was that the
soreness she had woken to this morning had been soothed away.

Stephanie had
no need to tell Venetia to stop. She had sensed Stephanie's
completion and taken her hands away.

'Feels much
better,' Stephanie said, smiling and opening her eyes.

'All part of
the service.'

Seeing Venetia
kneeling in the short nightdress, her breasts tantalisingly
revealed by the lace, her long legs slightly parted, Stephanie felt
a rush of desire for this beautiful woman who had made her feel so
good. She saw herself leading Venetia into the cool bedroom, lying
on the bed with her, kissing her hard on the mouth and pressing her
body into Venetia's. But she stopped herself. As always from the
moment she had stepped on to the plane, the problem to avoid during
the weekend had been overindulgence. There would be time for all
that later. Stephanie felt a distance between herself and Venetia
now, a distance she welcomed. Not taking her to bed now kept that
distance firmly in place.

From below the
terrace Stephanie heard the gentle rumble of the motorboat engines.
She got up and walked over to the parapet to watch as the boatman
skilfully manoeuvred the glimmering metal and polished wood of the
boat into position on the jetty. Almost as soon as he'd tied the
fore and aft lines, leaving the huge engines idling in the water
making a noise like distant thunder, Devlin, Gianni in tow,
appeared from under the canopy of leaves and flowers that shrouded
the stone steps. Stephanie stepped back slightly into the shade,
wanting to see but not be seen. She felt the gentle brush of silk
on her naked back as Venetia joined her to peer over her
shoulder.

They watched
together as Devlin shook hands briskly with Gianni while one of the
servants stowed his briefcase aboard the boat. Even from their
vantage point on the terrace it was apparent that the relationship
between the two men had changed. Devlin was no longer holding
himself in a way that suggested, as it had yesterday, his
subservience to Gianni. Now his body language was confident and
assured. He looked relaxed. Gianni on the other hand exuded an air
of tension, shifting his weight from one foot to another, clearly
ill at ease and anxious to be off. The boatman helped him into the
motorboat and he sat unsmiling on the padded leather seat in the
transom. He made no effort to return Devlin's cheery wave as the
boatman released the lines and used the boat hook to ease away from
the jetty. As soon as the boat was clear the big engines were
gunned into life, a churning white froth appeared as the propellers
bit into the water, and the boat surged out over the lake. In
seconds Gianni's sullen face merged into the landscape, and in
minutes only the huge swathe of wake could be seen.

'Good
riddance,' Stephanie commented in relief. The desire she had felt
for Gianni last night had in no way affected her overall dislike
for the man and she was delighted to see the back of him. But she
had every intention of teaching him he couldn't merely snap his
fingers and get what he wanted. Gianni's introduction to the
cellars and to Stephanie in particular was something that was going
to haunt him. He was on the hook now and she had every intention of
reeling the line in. But, she old herself, first things first.

'Devlin looks
happy,' Venetia said.

'Well, I'll
wipe that smile off his face.' Stephanie was smiling to herself at
the prospect.

'What are you
going to do?'

'I'll
explain,' she said, leading Venetia into the bedroom.

Stephanie
hadn't bothered with underwear. She wore only her cream silk dress.
It buttoned down the front and so was easy to take off again. In
fact, she had considered not dressing at all and staying in the
robe or a towel, but by the time she had made up carefully, she
opted for the dress is it was lighter and cooler. Looking once
again at the face that stared back at her from the mirror, she was
surprised how little changed it appeared to be. She looked, she had
to admit, and despite the vagaries of last night, remarkably fresh
and fit. Nothing in her face betrayed what she experienced or what
she had felt. They were to remain her secret.

She had
applied her make-up thickly. Once again she knew the impression she
wanted to create. She used a red lipstick, a thick eyeliner and a
lot of mascara on her long eyelashes. Her dark brown eyes stared
back at her from the mirror, bright and deep and stern.

If Bruno's
face was capable of registering any expression apart from a sort of
gloomy disinterest, Stephanie thought, she might have detected a
flicker of surprise as he opened the cellar door in response to her
impatient knocking. But he had let her in without hesitation and
followed her as she indicated he should.

It felt
strange to be back in the punishment room of the cellar suite
again, to see the wooden frame where last night she had been
strapped and where Venetia had been violated for the first time.
But Stephanie was in no mood to dwell on such things. She had come
here for a very specific reason. She went to the wardrobes that
lined one wall but this time the doors were locked.

'Open them
all, Bruno,' she ordered, and Bruno obeyed immediately, selecting
one key from the many on the ring he always carried at his waist
and opening each in turn.

As Bruno swung
the doors back Stephanie could see the clothing neatly arranged in
racks of rubber, leather, and oversized women's clothing (clearly
intended for the use of men) as well as the drawers of underwear.
There were two drawers of bras, two of knickers, two of stockings,
and so on. One drawer contained the usual female sizes and one the
over-sized versions of the same thing.

Venetia
arrived as Stephanie began rifling the wardrobes for the outfit she
had in mind. She had changed into a duck-blue tracksuit.

'How about
this?' Stephanie asked, unhooking a red leather basque from the
rail.

'Black's
better on you,' Venetia said. She rummaged around until she found
the identical item in black. Then she helped Stephanie off with her
dress.

'Let's see.'
Stephanie held the cold leather against her naked body and looked
into one of the mirrors that lined the wardrobe doors. She noticed
Bruno still standing by the door, his arms once again folded over
his chest, his eyes firmly fixed on her body. She wondered,
momentarily, if whatever accident he had suffered had after all
left him completely disinterested, as Devlin had seemed to
believe.

'I'll do it
up.' Venetia came round and started hooking up the long row of
fastenings at the back. 'Breathe in,' she said as she got to the
tight sculptured waist.

The basque
fitted perfectly. The soft leather moulded itself to Stephanie's
body, the half-cup bra giving a tantalising glimpse of her firm
breasts and more than a hint of nipple, the pinched waist
emphasising the flare and curve of her rounded hips and buttocks.
Stephanie found a pair of knickers, no more than a G-string, made
from the same soft leather. She stepped into them, then sat on the
wooden frame and rolled a pair of sheer black stockings over her
legs, smoothing them out before clipping them into the suspenders
of the basque.

'Find me a
pair of boots with high heels,' she said as the first stocking was
clipped into place. She watched Bruno's eyes following her hands as
they unrolled the sheer nylon over her creamy flesh.

'How about
these?' Venetia asked, holding a pair of black boots.

'Not high
enough.'

'These, then,'
Venetia said. They were perfect, the heels adding four inches to
Stephanie's height. She would tower over Devlin now.

'What shall I
wear, then?' Venetia pulled off her tracksuit.

'The red
basque. It's better with your hair.'

Venetia pulled
the red leather around her body while Stephanie hooked her into it.
It was a little small for Venetia, the half-bra especially
struggling to contain her voluptuous breasts. Her outfit was
completed by red stockings, a pair of silk knickers and red
high-heeled shoes rather than boots. Stephanie made Venetia change
the first pair of shoes she tried, as they made her taller than
Stephanie and she didn't want that. Not today. Not for what she had
in mind.

It took
Stephanie a few minutes to choose a whip from the display on the
wall. She noticed that the one Gianni had used on her the night
before had been replaced in its mounting. Trying several for weight
and balance she swished them through the air inches from where
Bruno was standing impassively. He did not flinch. Finally she
chose a heavy riding crop with a plaited leather handle tipped with
a broad loop of black leather.

'Shall I try
it out on you?' she said to Venetia, unable to keep a slight tone
of menace out of her voice. She realised she would actually have
liked to use it on Venetia, to see the other woman bend down, her
arse unprotected by the thin string of the knickers, and watch as
the crop whacked against her soft plump flesh. After all, she could
do precisely what she wanted to do with Venetia. She was a slave
too. Perhaps her eyes betrayed what she was thinking. Venetia was
suddenly cold and frightened.

'You can if
you want to,' she said reluctantly.

'I know,'
Stephanie said frostily. For a moment they were not two equals, but
mistress and slave.

The moment
passed. Stephanie decided she must not be distracted. As ever that
was the problem with the castle, too many possibilities, too many
indulgences. This morning Stephanie could so easily have taken
Venetia to bed. The idea of feeling that long body pressed into
hers was so tempting. And now, seeing Venetia dressed so
provocatively, she could easily have had Bruno tie her down to one
of the punishment frames. She could have used her and abused her
and enjoyed every minute of it. But it was a question of priorities
and the number one item on the agenda today was Devlin. Stephanie
had no intention of forgetting that. No one, however rich and
powerful, was going to treat her like an object, a piece of
property to be used at whim, whatever the financial stakes. That
was the lesson she was going to teach Devlin and one he would never
be allowed to forget. Everything else could wait.

The clatter of
high heels on the marble floor of the long hall at the top of the
cellar steps echoed through the castle. A white-coated servant
appeared to see if he might be of service, only to scurry away at
the sight of the two formidably dressed women striding purposefully
into the main reception room. Apart from him, however, the castle
appeared to be quiet and seemingly deserted. There was no sign of
Devlin in any of the reception rooms.

'He's probably
in the office,' Venetia volunteered, leading the way back into the
hall and down a long passage Stephanie had not noticed before,
behind the main staircase. Once again the clatter of heels on the
polished marble, like the staccato sound of machine-gun fire,
sounded out through the building.

At the end of
the corridor Venetia stopped in front of a small wooden door
delicately carved with ornate gothic panels.

'In here,' she
said.

'OK. You go
and arrange things downstairs,' Stephanie instructed, adjusting the
whip in her hand. 'You know what to do.'

'I'll be
ready.'

She was about
to turn and go when Stephanie's voice stopped her.

'Venetia...'
She let the name hang in the air between them.

'Yes?'

'I want to
spend some time alone with you later. Just the two of us.'

'I'd like that
very much.'

Stephanie
leant forward and kissed Venetia fleetingly on the cheek before her
attitude of authority returned.

'Off you go
then.'

As Venetia
returned to the cellars Stephanie turned the handle of the office
door as quietly as she could and tiptoed into the room beyond. She
found herself in a large office lined with white filing cabinets
and shelves of computer tapes. There were three secretaries' desks,
each with computer terminals, telephones and VDUs, but none was
occupied. In one corner of the room Stephanie could see a glass
door and beyond another office which clearly belonged to
Devlin.

Threading her
way silently past the fax machine, paper shredder and desks she
walked towards the glass door. Through it she saw that the second
office was very differently arranged. There were no filing
cabinets, no computers, no files, just a massive desk carved from a
single piece of walnut, a long low leather sofa of an ultra-modern
design, and two other chairs, one in front of the desk and one
behind. On the desk there was a single telephone and very little
else. A small cabinet underneath it probably held other office
items neatly stored away. Devlin was obviously a very tidy man.