Stephanie's Revenge (13 page)

'You bitch,'
the woman shouted, as Stephanie walked away. 'Come back here. Don't
leave me like this...'

Walking away
was against all her instincts. Her excitement was intense. It was
the excitement she had felt the first weekend at the castle, the
excitement of power. In the castle, down here in the cellars, she
was the mistress of all she surveyed; she could do anything, have
anything. Last night had been a marvellous sexual experience for
her and had proved, had she really needed proof, that she didn't
need the pleasures of power to enhance her sexuality. Power was an
extra, an optional extra. It was the same as her realisation that
she could get pleasure from women as well as men. Being able to
enjoy sex with a woman didn't mean she never wanted a man again. On
the contrary, it made her feelings for men that much stronger. So
it was with the feelings she got from being in a dominant role. It
didn't mean she couldn't lose herself in the sort of sex she had
experienced last night, couldn't resume her traditional
submissiveness, the role she had played before she had discovered
the other worlds of sex. It was different, that was all. The two
were not mutually exclusive. And they fed on each other: being
spread and used as she had been last night was exciting now because
she knew how it felt to play the other role, to spread and use in
return.

Man or woman,
dominant or submissive, in the end, it was all sex. The more she
experienced the more she wanted to experience, the stronger and
more pleasurable her sexual feelings were. A wonderful world of
sex, she thought to herself, parodying the title of a television
programme she had watched regularly as a child. The more she knew
the more she wanted to know; the more she felt the more, it seemed,
she was capable of feeling.

But not now.
Now she walked purposefully out of the cellars, ignoring the
appetites the slave had created, and up into the light. Out in the
sun on the jetty, she plunged into the warm waters of the lake. She
would swim and eat and have a siesta before Jasmina arrived.

The waters of
the lake were silky and smooth against her skin. She swam strongly,
stretching all her muscles, wanting to work, to feel the strain.
Then, some distance from the island, she trod water and relaxed.
The lake was full of fish. None seemed inhibited by the presence of
a large mammal in their territory and, as she floated lazily, they
swam up to investigate this strange phenomenon.

She swam back
to the jetty as energetically as she had swum out. Pulling herself
from the water, she lay on the wooden boards to dry off in the sun.
The clouds were still threatening to the west but as yet were a
long way off. At the moment, the sun blazed down unobstructed.
Turning herself like a steak on a griddle, she was soon completely
dry.

She thought
about going upstairs to change for lunch but hunger overcame her,
and she pulled on the chiffon wrap instead and walked up to the
terrace where the servants had laid the table for her lunch. A
crisp, pink linen tablecloth matched the pink and white crockery
and the tiny flower arrangement of pink and dark red flowers that
she did not recognise but that were, no doubt, grown in the
greenhouses behind the castle.

She had
ordered fillet steak, bleu. She wanted red meat. And a salad, a
green salad fresh from the gardens, tossed in virgin olive oil. She
drank two glasses of Barolo 1983 with the meat and gazed out over
the lake watching the inexorable approach of the leading edge of
cloud as it gradually advanced from the horizon. The servants, in
their crisply laundered white linen jackets, served her without a
word. After the main course she asked for a small portion of melon
ice cream that was one of the specialities of the castle chef. She
didn't have coffee, wanting to be sure she slept for a while this
afternoon.

Upstairs in
the bedroom, the maid had already closed the shutters and curtains
on the windows to keep out the midday sun, and the room was
pleasantly cool. Stephanie stripped off the swimsuit and lay naked
on the bed. She pulled a single sheet over her body and settled her
head on to the goose-down pillow. After the strong Barolo she felt
delightfully relaxed, her eyes heavy, her body unstrung. She knew
she would sleep deeply after the rigours of last night, and she was
right.

She was
licking Devlin's body. His body was as misshapen as his face. His
torso was short and compacted, his shoulders badly rounded, his
legs scrawny and bowed. Every inch of his flesh was covered in
thick wiry hair - once black, now grey and white. His back was
hairy too, dense clumps of hair covering his kidneys. Stephanie
found it exciting. His extreme ugliness was exciting, as exciting
as extreme beauty.

She licked his
face, his grotesque bulbous nose, his pock-marked cheeks, his ears,
from which great tufts of hair grew. She kissed and licked his neck
and his chest and bit his nipples, teasing them with her teeth,
watching the effect this had on his penis, his huge erect penis. It
twitched with each bite like the rod of a water diviner. She worked
her mouth over his navel while her hand took his penis by its
root.

His penis was
like an ageing tree trunk circled and bound by fronds of ivy. Blue
and purple veins, distended and swollen, ran up and round it in a
chaos of directions, apparently at random and to no purpose. Each
vein was a different shape, some long and twisting following the
whole length of his stem, others short and wide, rising from his
tumescence only to disappear again. Some looked so gnarled as to be
varicose, an angry purple red; others were veins on veins, hitching
a ride on the back of a bigger cousin. Devlin's cock could be
mapped, a road map of a strange new planet.

Stephanie
licked and nibbled at its base, then worked her mouth higher while
her hand played with his balls. Devlin groaned, a large tear of
fluid leaking from the slit of his penis to further signal his
excitement. With the tip of her tongue Stephanie licked it off
greedily, then plunged her mouth down on to him as far as she could
go. His penis filled her cheeks, down into her throat. She was
gagged with flesh.

Without moving
her head she could see Gianni. He was struggling against his
chains, rattling them against the wall. His cock was erect, swathed
in red ribbon and erect, his whole body tensed.

'Let me help,'
Signora Gianni said. She was smiling at Stephanie, still wearing
the little mink jacket, the elaborate spectacles with diamante
inlay. She knelt on the other side of Devlin and started to use her
mouth on the base of his penis. There was plenty of room for both
their mouths.

'Oh, it's
good,' she said, licking and sucking until her mouth met
Stephanie's lips. 'Let me take it,' she whispered.

Reluctantly,
Stephanie pulled away and watched as the white-haired woman sunk
her mouth down on to Devlin's monstrous cock. She watched as her
lips engulfed the rim of his glans, then another inch, and another,
until the whole cock was buried deep in her mouth and her lips were
hard up against his thick, wiry pubic hair. It was impossible,
Stephanie knew. How could she take so much? The white hair bobbed
up and Devlin's cock slid out glistening with salvia. Then it
disappeared again, devoured in her mouth.

Stephanie felt
jealous. She wanted Devlin, she wanted his spunk.

There was a
crack like thunder. The wall holding the nail to which Gianni was
chained split in two, the whole wall tearing like a piece of paper.
There was dust and plaster everywhere. It was difficult to see.
Gianni appeared, striding towards them, pulling free of his chains,
the metal links snapping like elastic bands. Gianni was free.

'Stop that,'
he said to his wife. He pulled her off Devlin's cock, but it was
too late. Devlin's spunk jetted out into the air, landing on the
black mink jacket, great white gobs of spunk catching in the
fur.

'She's got to
be punished,' Gianni said, advancing towards Stephanie.

'Oh yes, she's
got to be punished,' his wife said, ignoring the spunk and getting
up.

Stephanie
backed away across the room, her feet leaving a trail of footsteps
in the white plaster dust that covered everything. Gianni was
covered in it, covered as though he had walked through a vast vat
of talcum powder. Stephanie backed away until she felt the wall,
the torn wall. It crumbled at her touch, filling the air with more
dust and plaster and brick.

Devlin had not
moved. He lay covered in the white powder. She cried out for him to
help her. She could hardly see him now through the fog of dust. She
couldn't see Gianni now. Only his wife. She was nearest to her now,
untouched by the powder, her mink jacket still black.

'She's got to
be punished,' she said.

Stephanie
turned and ran. She ran through the crumbling wall and was almost
free. But then something caught her by the wrist, a hand caught her
by the wrist, a grip like steel. She tried to pull away but it was
useless. The hand pulled her closer. Through the dust she couldn't
see anything, just the fingers locked on to her wrist.

She felt a
soft, warm body next to hers. She felt arms wrapping round her,
hugging her. She felt lips licking and sucking at her body. She
felt her thighs being opened, her labia being opened, her sex being
opened...

'She's got to
be punished,' a voice said. Not Signora Gianni. Another voice.
Stephanie could see who was holding her now. It was Fran, her naked
body plump and pliant, pressing into her...

Stephanie woke
with a start. She looked around to check that there was no one else
in the room, and couldn't think what had woken her so suddenly. The
room was full of shadows. It was almost dark. She switched on the
bedside light. The bedroom was empty.

Getting up,
Stephanie went over to the terrace doors and threw back the
curtains and shutters to reveal a torrent of rain outside. It
splattered up off the terracotta tiling, the drops bouncing more
than a foot, they were so hard and heavy. They battered the orange
trees in their pots and rustled through the thatch of climbing
plants that clung to the castle wall. The sky was black and a clap
of thunder followed a startling streak of fork lightning that hit
the mainland to the east.

It must have
been the thunder that woke her, Stephanie thought. And that
probably accounted for a curious sense of foreboding that seemed to
have rooted itself in the back of her mind like a persistent dull
headache. She felt cold too, an unusual experience at the
castle.

A hot shower
dispelled the chill but not the emotion. After she'd washed her
hair, dried it with a hairdryer - previously it had always dried in
the sun - and applied her make-up, it was still there, a nagging
premonition.

Since it was,
as far as she could tell, completely without foundation, she tried
to put it to one side. She glanced at her watch. It was six
o'clock. She had plenty of time before Jasmina's arrival. She went
to the phone and dialled Devlin's number, sure that the sound of
his voice would make her feel better. The ringing was answered
almost immediately.

'727
1800.'

'Venetia, it's
Stephanie.' She'd recognised Venetia's voice.

'Hi. Devlin's
right here.' Stephanie heard Venetia telling him who was on the
phone.

'Stephanie!'
he said, sounding genuinely glad to hear from her.

'Devlin, how's
it going?'

'All on
schedule. But what about you? You've got the big news. How is our
Roman friend?'

'It went like
clockwork. Perfect. Not a hitch.' She found herself smiling
broadly.

'I want to
hear all the details.'

'Are you
coming back in the morning?' After the shower she had not bothered
to put on a robe. She stared down at her naked body. As she spoke
to Devlin she saw her nipples begin to pucker.

'Yes. Can't
wait.'

'I've invited
a guest. Someone I met in Rome.'

'Man or
woman?'

'Woman. A very
beautiful black woman.' Stephanie would tell him about the two
Italian brothers too, tell him in detail everything they had done
to her, but that would have to wait.

'If you say
she's beautiful, I think she must be extraordinary.'

'She is. She's
arriving tonight.'

'And what will
you do with her?'

'Need you
ask?'

'Is she...
cooperative?'

'She wants to
learn. She is very enthusiastic. She's never had an experience with
a woman.'

'But you've
changed that?'

'I gave her a
taste, that's all. She appeared eager to have the whole meal.'

'Tell me about
it.'

'I'll tell you
tomorrow, Devlin.'

'Please...'

'You want to
wank again?'

'Please...'

'No, Devlin.'
She made her voice stern. 'You're to wait, is that understood?'

He noticed the
change in tone immediately. If he wasn't hard already that would
provoke his erection.

'Yes,
mistress,' he said, the word 'mistress' clearly lingering in his
mind.

'You come only
when I say, don't you?'

'Yes,
mistress.'

Stephanie
smiled to herself, knowing what Devlin's reaction would be, knowing
how much he would want her in the morning when he got home. Well,
if he was lucky, he would have an extra bonus - he would have
Jasmina to watch and maybe even join in.

'Can't wait,'
he said, as if he would be scolded for saying it.

'Neither can
I,' she replied with no sternness.

They exchanged
goodbyes and Stephanie hung up. The rain outside had let up and the
terrace was awash with water. Lightning still forked down on the
mainland, closely followed by thunder, but the sky was not quite as
dark. However, Stephanie's feeling of foreboding had not
abated.