Stephanie's Trial (5 page)

Propping
herself up comfortably on the left of the bed with the pillows
against the wall, she faced the television.

'So let's see
what Doreen got up to.' She nodded for the naked Venetia to press
the controls.

The screen of
the television jumped to life. At first it was only the picture of
a bedroom, but not this bedroom. Nor was it anywhere in the castle.
The room was sparsely furnished, a bed and not much else.

'Where is
this?' Stephanie asked, indicating for Venetia to sit next to her
on the bed, on the right where she could still reach the
controls.

'It's a flat
in Belgravia. Devlin sold it just before he met you.'

A naked man
entered the shot. Stephanie had assumed she was going to see Devlin
performing with the stunning Ms Palmer but this man had dark olive
skin with curly black hair, a thick black moustache and pubic hair
to match. His penis was large but flaccid and circumcised; his
chest and body, apart from the fleece around his cock, were
completely hairless. Though he had a big belly the muscles on his
arms and legs were well developed. He sat on the foot of the bed,
obviously watching someone out of camera range.

Doreen Palmer
walked into the picture. She was just as beautiful as her
photographs suggested. Her naked back was perfectly contoured with
her scapulae distinctly outlined and her pert, tight but small arse
rising abruptly from her long slim thighs. As she knelt in front of
the olive-skinned man and looked up into his deep brown eyes she
seemed, by contrast, incredibly fair of complexion, her skin almost
white, her blonde hair adding to the impression.

'I want to
please you,' she said in a rather light but pleasant voice.

'I fuck you.'
His accent was Arabic, Stephanie thought.

'No,' the
woman said, shaking her head but not smiling, 'that's not want you
want is it?'

'I want.'

'Don't you
understand? I said I'll do anything. Don't be shy darling.
Anything...'

'I fuck you,'
he repeated.

'Darling,' she
said like a mother clucking at a small child. 'Leave it to
me...'

It was quite
obvious from their attitude that neither party was aware that they
were being filmed. Doreen dropped her head into the Arab's lap and
began to suck his cock into her mouth. She sucked it to erection,
which took only a few seconds, then raised her head until all but
the glans was out of her mouth. She immediately plunged down on it
again, so far down that Stephanie could see her cheeks bulge. After
three or four strokes the man caught her head in his hands.

'You make me
come,' he said with a hint of anger in his voice.

'Ahmed...' she
said, letting his cock slip from between her lips. 'You can come in
my mouth. I love that. I love spunk. I love tasting spunk. I just
want to please you.' Her tone was not something Stephanie
understood. It was definitely not that of a lover trying to find
ways of pleasing the object of her affections. It was more
desperate, as though pleasing this Arab was a matter of some
importance.

'I fuck you
then.'

'If that's
what you want,' she said, but for some reason she did not sound
convinced.

Doreen got to
her feet. As she turned to get on to the bed Stephanie saw her
breasts for the first time. They were beautifully shaped, not large
but perfectly round with disproportionately large nipples that were
hard and erect with a dark brown areola. She stooped to kiss the
man but he turned away.

'No kiss,' he
said, brusquely standing up, his erect cock at right-angles to his
body.

'Fuck me
then,' Doreen said provocatively and with a certain amount of
anger. She lay on the bed and opened her legs. Her pubic hair was
as blonde as the hair on her head and as thick. She combed it apart
with the fingers of both hands, then inserted two fingers deep into
her cunt right up to the knuckle. She moaned.

The Arab
watched. 'I like this,' he said, standing over her.

'Do you know
what I like, Ahmed?'

'No.'

Doreen's
fingers plunged in and out of her cunt. The Arab knelt on the bed
between her legs so he could get a better view of her
masturbation.

'Do you want
to know?'

'You like
this,' he said as he gazed into her crotch.

'But what I
really like. Do you know what I really like?' She seemed more
confident now as if she had found the key, as if she knew how to
get whatever it was she wanted from this man.

'No.'

'I arranged it
before. Look at the top of the bed...'

'Bed?'

'At the top in
the middle, under the pillow.'

He crawled up
the bed on his knees and pulled the pillow away. Lying on the sheet
Stephanie could see a pair of handcuffs attached to a short white
nylon rope that was obviously, in turn, secured either to the bed
or the wall behind it.

'This...' The
Arab picked up the cuffs and worked them between his fingers as if
trying to see how they locked.

'I like to be
bound, Ahmed. Helpless. I love the feeling of being helpless.' The
rate at which her fingers were pummelling in and out of her sex was
now so fast it was virtually a blur on the television screen. But
for some reason Stephanie felt this was all a performance, a show
staged for the Arab's benefit, to turn him on.

It was clearly
working too. The Arab suddenly snaked out a hand, caught the woman
by the wrist and pulled her fingers out from between her legs and
up over her head, snapping the steel cuff into place in a seemingly
effortless manoeuvre. With equal speed he had grabbed and secured
the other hand.

'You want...'
he said gruffly. It was not a question. His erection was much
bigger now and a tear of fluid had formed at its tip. Doreen
writhed against her bonds, twisting her long slender body on the
bed.

'Yes, I want,'
she said.

'You want...'
he repeated, taking his cock in his hand and wanking it hard. With
his other hand he leant over her body and pulled her hip, turning
her on her stomach. She did not resist, but twisted her head round
so she could look back at him. The look in her eyes was full of
excitement.

Almost
unconsciously Stephanie had cupped one hand over her left breast
while the other stroked the black satin that covered the crease of
her sex. For a moment she tore her eyes from the television screen
to look at Venetia's naked body. There was little to choose between
Venetia and Doreen. Both were long-limbed and sensuous. Both had
bodies that seemed to purr with sex. But their needs were very
different. Stephanie could see Venetia's need. She was not turned
on by what was on the screen: Venetia had no interest in
heterosexual sex. Her body was throbbing, aching, keening because
of Stephanie's proximity, because she hoped and prayed that
Stephanie would turn to her soon and use her or ask to be used.
Venetia's eyes were on Stephanie's long stockinged legs, flicking
up to the satin-covered breasts and the triangle of her belly, when
she dared.

Stephanie
returned to the television, ignoring Venetia's need for the time
being. She was teasing Venetia, she knew, and doing it
deliberately.

Doreen's need
was for cock. As the Arab moved down the bed she thrust her bum
high into the air. In response he slapped it hard with the palm of
his hand. Obviously this amused him. He wrapped one arm around her
waist and used his other hand to slap each of her buttocks in turn
three or four times. Then he got between Doreen's long legs and was
pulling her up on to her knees by taking hold of her hips. Her arse
was reddened by the spanking he had given her.

'You want...'
he grunted again.

'Yes,' she
said. 'Do it.' She twisted around again to try and look into his
eyes but it was impossible with her hands bound and stretched out
in front of her. He had pulled her back so far the steel cuffs bit
into her wrists.

He pushed his
rampant cock forward but not into her labia. His target was higher
and smaller.

'You want...'
It was his litany. With a massive thrust he jammed the head of his
cock into the corrugated bud of her anus. Doreen groaned. With his
hands on her hips he used all his considerable strength to pull her
back onto him. The movement tightened the short nylon rope,
Doreen's arms pulled to their limit. She opened the fingers of both
hands like the petals of some strange flower, her bound wrists its
stem, and screamed as the Arab's penis sunk all the way down into
the rear passage of her body. But she recovered instantly and
ground her buttocks against his navel, moaning 'yes' every time he
thrust forward.

'Who are
they?' Stephanie asked Venetia.

'I think the
Arab was a customer of Devlin's.'

Doreen was
coming, screaming at the top of her voice, her whole body thrashing
around on the cock impaled inside her.

'And
Doreen?'

'Don't
know.'

The Arab
slapped his hand down on Doreen's writhing buttock and the thwack
of skin on skin filled the air. It only served to redouble Doreen's
efforts, thrusting herself against him with new vigour.

'A slave?'
Stephanie asked.

'Probably
someone he had on the hook.'

'And she's
working very hard to get off it.'

The Arab
groaned, his big muscles locked and he held himself completely
still, letting Doreen's movements bring him off, his cock spunking
in her arse.

'She's very
beautiful.'

'Yes she is,'
Venetia said quietly.

'Turn it
off.'

There were the
words Venetia most wanted to hear. She pressed the buttons on the
bedside console and the screen went black.

'Do you want
one of the others?' Venetia asked, hoping the answer would be
no.

'It's still
early, isn't it? I want to go out and eat something.' Stephanie
enjoyed the expression of disappointment she saw on Venetia's face,
still in the mood to tease. 'But not yet.'

Venetia didn't
know what to do. She didn't like being played with like this but
she knew she had no choice.

Stephanie
leant forward. 'Undo my bra,' she said deliberately coldly as
though issuing an order to one of the slaves.

Venetia knelt
up on the bed and reached behind Stephanie's back to unfasten the
clips of the bra.

'Take it off,' Stephanie ordered in the same tone. A
frisson
of pleasure ran
through her nerves at the sound of her own voice, so controlled, so
calculating. The castle had taught her how to please herself, how
to get what she wanted. She moved her body not at all as Venetia's
hands pulled the satin bra straps from her shoulders, allowing her
to work them down over her arms until the cups of the bra fell away
from her breasts. Only then did she lift her arms to allow the bra
to fall away. Her breasts trembled, their nipples
prominent.

She looked
straight into Venetia's eyes. She could see her uncertainty, and
even a slight flare of resentment at the way she was being treated.
Very slowly Stephanie reached up with her hand to touch Venetia's
cheek, caressing it gently with the back of her hand. She had
suddenly tired of the game she was playing. She didn't want them to
be mistress and slave any more. She wanted them to be two women,
equal, together.

'Venetia,' she
said, her voice soft and tender now, 'would you make love to me,
darling? Do whatever you want to me. I want to feel you again. Like
we were the first time.'

'It's
different now.'

'It doesn't
have to be. I'm sorry... it takes me some time to adjust from the
castle. Let's just be together.'

Stephanie
kissed both Venetia's cheeks and then centred on her mouth, kissing
her hard, sucking up her tongue and her lower lip, feeling
Venetia's breasts crushing into her, running her hands down
Venetia's long spine and over the plump curves of her buttocks.
Without breaking the kiss she murmured in Venetia's mouth, 'Do it
to me, do it to me...'

Venetia's
heart was pounding. She pushed Stephanie back on the bed until she
was lying flat. Then she moved her mouth down her neck, planting it
with little pecking kisses, all the way down her throat and up
again, up the long prominent tendons of her neck and onto her ear.
She nibbled the fat lobe between her teeth, then sent her hot wet
tongue deep into its whorls, deep down as far as it would go.
Stephanie moaned and arched her body off the bed as an unconscious
reaction to this invasion, feeling the sap oozing out of her sex as
she ground her thighs together.

Venetia's hand
fell to Stephanie's firm breasts. As her tongue described circles
in Stephanie's ear her long fingers teased at Stephanie's hard,
puckered nipple. Using her perfectly manicured fingernails Venetia
pinched the tender flesh between her thumb and forefinger.
Stephanie moaned again.

Leaving her
ear, Venetia's mouth kissed its way down the length of Stephanie's
neck, down over the hollow of her collar-bone and up along the rise
of her breast, replacing her fingers with her mouth at the nipple.
Freed from this duty, while her tongue nudged and circled and
prodded at the hard button of flesh, her hand smoothed its way down
past Stephanie's iron-flat navel and over the silky frills of her
satin panties.

Stephanie's
legs were already open, one leg bent slightly at the knee, the
other flat against the sheets. Using the softness of the satin,
Venetia's hand stroked her lower belly, feeling the harsh pubic
hair underneath. Then she allowed her hand lower, down over the
precipitous curve of the pubic bone until she could feel the
softness of Stephanie's labia under the shiny satin. There, down
between her legs the material was damp. Venetia stroked gently at
first, the whole length of the crease from anus to clitoris, using
the satin to press into the delicate flesh. As her tongue worked
Stephanie's nipple, moving now from one breast to the other, her
hand gradually pressed harder, pushing the satin up into the folds
of Stephanie's labia, pressing deeper then with just one finger
until the material rode right up into the wet warmth of her sex
itself, up until Venetia's finger, sheathed by satin like some
strange contraceptive, was up to the knuckle in Stephanie's
sex.