Stephanie's Castle (5 page)

'To our
weekend.'

'To our
weekend,' she repeated, looking straight into his eyes.

'The castle
gets cold in the evening even in the summer. Such thick walls, the
heat never gets through.'

'The fire is
perfect.'

'We'll eat.
You must be hungry after all your... exertions.' He hesitated
before using the word as though wanting to make sure he chose one
with the right connotations. Stephanie wondered if he had received
a report of her activities on the plane. She was sure Susie would
be anxious to tell all.

Taking her
hand Devlin guided her to the table, kissing her hand before they
sat down. In front of her she recognised the distinctive pattern of
Georg Jensen silverware, and the delicacy of the finest bone china.
Almost instantly a waiter served wine and sparkling water. Devlin
tasted the wine fastidiously but his eyes never left Stephanie,
seemingly studying every detail anew, though often probing the dark
shadow of cleavage resting above the black silk of the evening
dress.

It was a
remarkable meal. Delicate sea-bass, followed by baby lamb - a
specialty of the region according to Devlin - and a simple salad.
Wonderful tastes but not filling. They chatted amiably, enjoying
each other's company again as they had done in London. Devlin's
range of interests and knowledge was wide, his conversation witty
and amusing.

'Would you
mind if I skipped dessert?' Stephanie asked.

'Not at all,
my dear. Coffee?'

'Espresso?'

'We are in
Italy.'

She declined
the offer to move to the sitting room for the coffee, preferring
instead the intimacy of being eye to eye and elbow to elbow with
Devlin at the table. The waiter brought cups of strong espresso
coffee and a small silver platter of petits fours. Stephanie had
the impression that Devlin was nervous. Despite all his money, all
his obvious power and influence, he was still unsure of how to
broach the subject of sex. Fortunately Stephanie had no such
inhibitions. She was enjoying herself too much for that. This was a
game she was delighted to play.

'I would like
to take you to my bed now,' she said, moving her leg against his
under the table.

'I would like
that very much.'

'I'll make
sure you do.'

Devlin started
to say something then stopped. He sipped his coffee instead, then
tried again. 'When we met in London...'

'When we met
or when we fucked?' Stephanie said, smiling broadly. She was in no
mood for euphemisms.

'It was very
special for me.'

'And for me.
You are a very... unusual man.'

'Exactly.
That's exactly what I wanted to say. I'm an unusual man. I seem to
need unusual experiences to...'

'Turn you on?'
she suggested.

'Yes.'

'Like the
painting in your bedroom? The woman with the crimson cunt?' In
London Devlin's erection seemed to have been dependent on a
curious, though very beautiful, painting of a naked ménage à
trois.

'Yes. And
other things.'

'Sounds
fascinating. Tell me more. What other things?'

'Things you
might find... unacceptable.'

'And if I did?
Find them unacceptable I mean?' She was teasing him.

'We could just
be friends, of course,' he said, looking disappointed.

She took his
hand, once again startled by how small it made her own look, and
stroked the thick hair that grew above his knuckles.

'I'm a big
girl Devlin. You'd be surprised what I can find acceptable. You'd
be surprised what I can enjoy.' And Stephanie meant what she said.
She had come a long way since she had met Devlin three months ago.
Martin had led her along a road that she had no idea even existed
but it had thrilled her, it had opened her, it had given her a
sense of herself that she'd never had before. She had no idea what
Devlin wanted this time but she knew this whole situation thrilled
and excited her in the same way that her experience with Martin had
done. She was at a point where she could accept and enjoy almost
anything; it was a point of no return.

Devlin touched
her cheek with the back of his huge hand, a remarkably tender
touch.

'Not only are
you an extraordinarily beautiful woman, you are obviously
exceptional in other ways.'

'It's probably
something you sensed in me. You made the right choice.'

'So it seems.
More coffee?'

Stephanie
wanted to say that she didn't want any more coffee, that she wanted
him to stuff those enormous fingers deep into her cunt, nestling
hot and exposed and probably wet, after all this talk, under her
dress. But instead she said nothing, got to her feet and walked
into the hall and up the stairs to the bedroom. She did not look
behind her but heard Devlin following in her wake.

As she reached
the ninth or tenth step she stopped and bent down to her ankle,
taking it in both hands. From there she used her palms to smooth
the nylon of the stocking all the way up her long leg, as though
there was a wrinkle in it that she could not bear to tolerate for
one moment longer. She reached the clip of the suspender and
adjusted it to hold the stocking more tightly, her skirt hoisted up
and out of the way. Devlin, standing stock still at the bottom of
the staircase, watched transfixed, his eyes rooted to the white
thigh above the black welt of the stocking. As she let her skirt
fall back into place Stephanie glanced down over her shoulder,
pleased at the look of pure lust she had created in Devlin. That,
after all, was the idea.

In the bedroom
she unzipped the black silk dress and let it fall to the floor. She
stepped out of it as Devlin walked into the room, closing the door
behind him. She stood in front of him in the black basque, sheer
shiny black stockings and high heels, her legs apart, her arms
akimbo. Devlin sat in one of the armchairs opposite the bed.

'This was my
idea,' she said indicating the basque.

'What can I
say? You're exquisite.' He touched the fingertips of his massive
hands together in front of his mouth, as if in an attitude of
prayer. He had a strange look in his eyes, a mixture of greedy
desire and an almost thoughtful appreciation of aesthetic beauty.
The thick black pubic hair was too dense for him to see Stephanie's
labia but that was where his eyes seemed to rest.

'Do you like
my breasts?'

Stephanie
reached down into the bra cup of the basque and extracted her left
breast. She pulled it up to her mouth and was just able to tease
the already erect nipple with the tip of her tongue. Then she
flattened the bra cup under the breast so it was fully exposed. She
followed the same procedure with the right breast. She had
practised it at home last night. The flattened bra still gave
support to the breasts, pushing them up and out. Stephanie caught a
glimpse of herself in the mirror and could not suppress a shiver of
secret pleasure at what she saw. She was ready.

'What do you
want me to do then, Devlin?' she asked. He did not answer for a
moment. She had no idea what he planned, but the anticipation was
driving her pulse rate up.

'Nothing,' he
said.

Very slowly
and deliberately Devlin got up out of his chair and walked over
towards the bathroom. For the first time Stephanie noticed that,
set in the silk panels that covered the walls, was a small door,
almost like a cupboard door. Devlin had taken a key from his pocket
and was unlocking it.

'Come over
here.'

Stephanie
obeyed.

'I'm going to
dim the lights. Then I want you to open this door.'

He found the
light switch and all the lights in the room dimmed to a shadowy
gloom. Stephanie put her hand on the door. Her breathing was
shallow, her mouth dry, a knot of expectation tied tight in the pit
of her stomach. Though it was only seconds time seemed to stand
still before Devlin spoke again.

'Open it.'
Devlin's voice was commanding now, all reticence gone.

Stephanie
pulled the handle of the door and it swung open. Her eyes were not
yet adjusted to the dim light, so what happened next was a blur of
shadows. Two men plunged through the open door. One immediately
came behind Stephanie and clamped one hand over her mouth, so she
couldn't scream, and the other under her arm and. around her chest.
The second hoisted her feet off the floor and together they carried
her over to the four-poster bed and dumped her on it. Almost as a
reflex she tried to sit up but one of the men had climbed on to the
bed, grabbed her wrists and swung his body over hers to kneel above
her, holding her hands to either side of her head. Her eyes
adjusted to the light a little and she could see the man above her
had dark hair and dark brown eyes with a well-muscled but hairless
body. His only clothing was what looked like a black leather
jockstrap cut so tight it covered only his penis. But the pouch was
hard, as though the leather had been stretched over a metal form,
and too small and tight to allow room for an erection. It was held
in place by thin metal chains padlocked at the waist. The other man
was dressed in the same way but his body was a mass of thick curly
fair hair and he was altogether heavier and beginning to run to
fat.

Stephanie felt
a hand moving towards her cunt. She snapped her legs shut and tried
to buck the kneeling man off her chest. Her action had little
effect. A hand grabbed at her ankle pulling it towards the corner
of the bed where, despite her attempts to kick herself free, the
Hairy Man strapped it into a padded leather cuff and secured it to
the bottom post of the bed. They had come prepared. He took the
other ankle and pulled it to the opposite corner. Gradually her
legs were being scissored open, her cunt exposed. She continued to
struggle but not from fear; she could feel her excitement growing.
The other leather cuff was secured, her legs locked open.

Stephanie
strained her head to see Devlin. He had pulled up a chair to a few
feet from the side of the bed and was leaning forward, watching
intently. His eyes looked strange, as if in a sort of trance. His
mouth was open and his lips were wet, just touching the tips of his
fingers which he still held in an attitude of prayer.

Now the hand
was back on her cunt and this time there was nothing she could do
to stop it. Fingering her clitoris briefly, it plunged two fingers
deep into her cunt. Stephanie moaned. It was no surprise to her
that her cunt was already wet with her juices. The man kneeling
above her bent to kiss her on the mouth. Stephanie responded at
once wanting this contact, wanting to be part of the proceedings,
wanting to use as well as be used. The man's tongue probed her
mouth and she took it eagerly, sucking it as if it were a cock and
then pushing it aside with hers so she could penetrate his mouth.
He released her hands from his grip but she made no attempt to use
them.

She felt the
weight lift from her body as the man on top of her broke the kiss
and moved to her side. His hands teased at her nipples, pinching
the tight corrugated flesh. She closed her eyes to wallow in the
sensations her body was experiencing. She was no longer sure whose
mouth, hands, fingers or tongue was doing what to her; it just
seemed they were all over her body, biting, nipping, pinching,
caressing, plunging into mouth, cunt and arse.

She felt a
tongue, hot and wet, tapping at her arse. She felt a finger sliding
along her clitoris, another mouth biting her nipple hard, a tongue
licking her face, even her eyelids, and then a finger pushing into
her arse alongside the one already embedded in her cunt. They drove
into her in unison. She was smothered in. sex. There was so much
sensation that her first orgasm seemed almost irrelevant. It had
come as one of the men chewed on her clitoris, sucking it whole
into his mouth and using his tongue to probe the hard knot of
nerves. She tossed her head from side to side. She moaned. With her
hands she tried to clutch at the men's genitals, desperate to feel
a cock, but all she could feel was the unyielding leather of the
pouches so tightly fitted that there was no way she could worm her
fingers under the leather to achieve her objective. Somewhere in
the back of her mind she knew, of course, that the only cock she
was going to be allowed was Devlin's cock.

She had
forgotten, for the moment, about Devlin. She opened her eyes and
looked round to find him standing close to the bed looking down at
the three of them. He was naked now but his penis was flaccid.
Stephanie looked into his eyes. They seemed to be pleading with
her, pleading for something he was not prepared to put into words.
But she knew what it was.

'Stop it! Stop
it!' She screamed catching the hair of one of the men's heads and
yanking it back, pulling his mouth off her breast. Tears sprang to
his eyes. 'Get off me, you animals. Get off!'

The sudden
ferocity of her attack took them by surprise and Stephanie landed
two or three hefty blows before they realised what was happening.
Then the Hairy Man, the quicker of the two to adapt to the new
situation, tried to catch one of her flailing arms. After two
abortive attempts he got hold of her left wrist and held it with
both his hands.

Immediately
Stephanie tried to prise his fingers away with her free hand but
this gave the other man his chance and he grabbed her right wrist
and pulled it away. They stretched her arms apart, at right angles
to her body and flat on the bed so that she was spread-eagled. They
knelt either side of the bed pulling her arms so tight she couldn't
move, couldn't lever herself off the bed at all, couldn't
resist.

'Let me go!
Let me go!' she screamed, struggling still though her attempts to
free herself were futile. She turned her head to look at Devlin.
She did not smile - that would have destroyed the illusion - but
Devlin's erection was massive now, just as she remembered it, a
cock of gigantic proportions, veined, gnarled and ugly. She felt a
rush of excitement centred on her cunt.