Chapter One
Preparing For Passion
"Is the list
complete?" Aunt Caroline looked up from the typewritten column of names.
"Of course," Uncle Gerritt said around his stubby cigar. He folded his hands
across his moderate paunch and settled deeper into the bulky upholstery of his
chair.
Richard turned from
the large parlor window and shrugged. "I will leave all the details to you.
This will be the first Annual Autumn Ball since I arrived this Spring. Do we
have enough girls to entertain our male guests?"
Uncle Gerritt chuckled, the cigar ash dribbling onto his tweed
vest. "Just got twelve more last night while you were in town posting the
invitations. Captain Farrold brought them in on his
schooner, as usual." He closed his eyes and grinned. "Tried out three of them
already. Stripped them naked and strapped them down on the benches. Screamed
like hell, they did. Bucked against their straps like wild ponies. But I made
sure they found out what a real man's cock feels like in their pussies." He
nodded at Caroline's scowl. "Don't worry, I didn't touch the three virgins. I
know you wanted them saved for our highest-ranking guests."
Richard glanced at
Miss Ballard. "Will they be trained in time for the party?"
She abandoned her
usual frown for a rare smile. "Yes, Sir Richard. I earn my title as 'Mistress
of Discipline'." She slapped her heavy riding crop into the palm of her hand.
"I worked on all of them last night," she glanced at Gerritt,
"when your Uncle wasn't busy fucking them."
Uncle Gerritt opened his eyes and winked at Richard. "Crom, Gregor, and young Barth are
down in the cellar working them now. If it wasn't for the soundproof doors, you
could hear those wailing girls all the way to the village of Lympwyk."
Richard turned back
to the window, looking out over the meadows and moors of his south-west
Scotland estate. "As Laird of Blackthorne House, I
must be sure all our guests' desires are fulfilled at the Autumn Ball. Do we
have enough captive young men to pleasure the women guests?"
Aunt Caroline
looked over the top of her fashion magazine. "Only a few, but they know what is
expected of their tongues." She sighed and smiled. "I personally tested each of
them. All the ladies will get what they come here for."
Selby, the
venerable butler, hurried in through the archway. "Sir Richard, message for
you, Sir."
Richard took the
envelope from the tray and tore it open.
"Good news?" Treise asked from the couch, sitting up and pushing away
the maid who had her head far up under Treise's
skirt. Miss Ballard scowled at the maid. The scanty-clad wisp of a girl wiped
the glistening nectar from her lips and chin and scampered out of the parlor
with Miss Ballard following her.
"It's from,
uh...you know, his Lordship, the..."
"Speak no names,
Richard." Aunt Caroline put a finger across her lips.
Treise jumped up
from the couch and vaulted over beside Richard. She grasped the edge of the
letter and stared at it. "Isn't he that fat, old man who staked me out on the
ground in the goat pen last year, then smeared my breasts and pussy with honey?"
Aunt Caroline shook
her head. "No, not him, my dear."
Uncle Gerritt tried unsuccessfully to keep from smiling.
Treise snarled at
him. "You enjoyed watching, didn't you, you bastard!"
He laughed. "I
really envied those goats, you know. It was the only time I ever regretted not
being one of them myself."
"Why did you let
him do that to you?" Richard asked.
"Had to," Treise murmured.
Uncle Gerritt sat up and leaned forward. "It was a party. We all
played cards for each other's bodies-you know, loser becomes the property of
the winners until sunrise the next day. Lots of fun, and much more exciting
than Bridge. Treise lost." He laughed while shaking
his head.
"He cheated!" Treise spat out.
"So did you," Uncle
Gerritt said between his snickers, "but he was better
at it."
Aunt Caroline
gestured impatiently. "What does he say in his letter?"
"Just a lot of
tosh; flattery and the like," Richard answered. "Basically, he's begging for an
invitation. Listen to this, 'I enjoy the fervent affection of vivacious women
whose total attire consists of nothing more than a string of pearls'."
"Do we want him?" Treise asked.
"Absolutely not!"
Aunt Caroline said. "The man's a complete and total bore, in bed and out.
Spends the whole evening whining about how he can't get it up, then blaming
every woman in the shire for his problem." She sniffed. "And, he has gout!"
Treise cupped her
breasts and waggled them. "I'll bet I can get his cock to dance the squirt
waltz."
"You're on!" Gerritt said. He propelled his middle-aged bulk out of his
chair with surprising agility and strode over beside her.
"Get your smutty
hand off my ass," she said.
"If you don't like
what I'm doing to it, why didn't you step away?" He laughed and stroked her
chin with the forefinger of his other hand. "If you get him to erection, and he
cums more than once, my body is yours for a day and a
night."
Treise made a
motion imitating Miss Ballard slapping her crop into her hand. "I'd like that,"
she replied.
"If you don't get
him to cum at least twice," Gerritt continued, "your
body is mine for a day and a night."
"Agreed." The smile
disappeared from Treise's face.
"Wait, I'm not
finished. If you can't get his cock in full erection," Gerritt
extended a finger, twitching, but slightly curled downward, "-this isn't good
enough-" he straightened it, rock-hard, "like this, then I get to play with you
for two days and two nights."
Treise scowled,
"That's not fair! You said I'd get you for only one day and night."
Gerritt gave her a
smug grin. "I have a bigger imagination than you do. My perverted ideas will
keep you sweating in anguish for forty-eight hours."
"No!"
"Afraid you'll
lose?"
"I wouldn't"
"You will," Aunt
Caroline said. "Lord so-and-so's cock is brain-dead. He might as well cut it
off and donate it to the British Museum. Even your pussy can't bring it back to
life."
"Told you so," Gerritt crowed. "Admit it, you're not cupid's gift to the
impotent."
"I can so! I can
seduce any male with cum in his balls. There isn't a cock in the Kingdom I
can't control."
"If that's true," Gerritt replied, "Then agree to my terms and let me watch
you do it."
"Careful, Treise," Richard said, "Uncle Gerritt
is as mean and cunning as you are, and he may cheat by slipping a pretty maid
into His Lordship's bed the night before."
Treise scowled at
Richard, then turned back to Gerritt. "He can't be
alone with a female or fuck one for a week before I get him."
"Agreed." Gerritt was still grinning.
"I get to chain him
down on a special bench, don't want him wandering away when so much is at
stake. And, I spend the night with him alone. I know you would like to sit in a
chair next to us, heckling our performance."
"I must be able to
watch."
Aunt Caroline
nodded. "We have a two-way mirror between two of the bedrooms, Gerritt can watch through it, and not make a sound. His
Lordship would not know he's being seen."
"Agreed?" Gerritt asked, patting his manhood.
Treise exhaled a
long-held breath. "Agreed."
Gerritt grinned and
bowed to the applause of the others. "Shall I send him the invitation to hell,
or would you rather deliver it in person?" He laughed.
"Bastard!" Treise stormed out of the parlor, nearly knocking over
Addy, coming into the parlor through the archway.
Addy rubbed her
dark-circled eyes and yawned. "My, what was she upset about?"
"Tricked her
again," Uncle Gerritt said with a chuckle. "I'm going
to enjoy harnessing her to my racing sulky and trotting her to the end of Blackthorne Estate and back. That's twenty miles, or more.
If she slows down, I've got that nice, long, horse whip. That cute ass of hers
could use a bit of punishment. Then I'll chain her wrists and ankles, spread
her out in the stables, and let the lads have a go with her."
Richard grinned and
shook his head. "I agree, her ass needs a good whipping. She's been getting too
smug and self-important lately. Aren't you going to join in with the stable
boys and have a bit of fun with her yourself?"
"Not right
away...want to taunt her about that and let her worry a bit."
"Assuming you win
the bet," Caroline said. "When she was initiated last year, she coaxed
eighty-year-old Pitney, the gardener, into a huge erection. He sprayed cum all
over her breasts."
"Pitney?" Richard
asked.
"He died just
before you came to live here. Replaced him with that young man, Ives. Poor
Pitney, he was struggling to cum for the fourth time one night, and had a heart
attack. Died in the gentle arms of our little Fiona. She felt terrible about
it. She wept unceasingly at his funeral."
"Well," Gerritt said, slapping Richard on the back, "all this talk
about me getting Treise has made me horny. You
haven't seen the new girls yet, let's you and I have a peek at them. I'll let
you choose whom to fuck first."
"Remember,"
Caroline said, "We have a buyer arriving this afternoon. You're supposed to
have the girls for sale displayed in the stables. Don't forget, and don't be
late."
Gerritt gave her an
exaggerated salute, "Aye, Captain Caroline, we always does our duty with a che-e-erful heart, we does!" The
two men sauntered out through the archway.
Addy yawned and
sank into the sofa. "Remind me never to play cards with Ives again. He beat me
four times out of six. Spent the whole night in his cottage... fucks like a
stallion. It was fun the first three hours, but he just kept rolling me over
and going at me again. Gawd, I ache all over, front
and back."
"I've warned you
about him. Why do you keep making such foolish promises when you play? You
certainly enjoy putting yourself at risk."
"It's fun, Auntie.
I can make a man do anything I want if I promise him enough."
"You'll soon find
yourself in more trouble than you can handle, if you don't learn to stop being
such a silly little temptress."
"Oh, Auntie, that's
what Blackthorne House is all about, having fun with
bondage sex. I never had this much fun at that stupid girl's school Daddy sent
me away to."
"It's a good
school."
"No boys! No cocks
to tease." She sat up with a gleam in her eye. "Cousin Treise
has been teaching me how to tie up boys and hurt their cocks. I love to make them
struggle and squeal. Treise showed me where she keeps
her special toys. She clamps them around a man's cock and..."
"Just be careful.
Some men don't like it when a saucy little girl torments their manhood. They
can be very vindictive if they trap you in a place where we can't help you."
"I can handle any
man." She giggled, "I love handling men, especially the place where they are
the most vulnerable."
"You're still just
eighteen years old, and you've got a lot to learn about men."
Addy grinned
wolfishly and fluttered her bright blue eyes. "I've already learned a lot. I
know how to make a cock tremble with fear, and I can make them cum whenever I
please."
"Well, let's go
find our cook, Lara, and have her make you some breakfast. After such a busy
night, you must be starved." The two women left through the arch, still talking
as they disappeared down the hallway.
The parlor was
silent. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, their steel bars designed to
prevent trespassing, or escape. Family portraits hung over the fireplace, and
covered the walls on each side. Staring down from the largest frame, gilded and
set in honor above the mantelpiece, was Richard's grandfather, Sir Robert Cailean.
Next to him in the
painting stood his pretty young wife, Claudette. Now in her nineties, she was a
shadowy presence in the mansion, appearing at dinner, then retiring to her room
again afterward. A rich horde of memories flow through her mind, still sharp
and clear in her last years.
Sir Robert was the
founder of the family business; buying and selling pretty young girls, and
enjoying their bodies between transactions. He was born in this very house on
June 20, 1837, the same day that King William IV died. Robert's life began as
Victoria became Queen and ruled over her glittering empire. When he was five
years old, his father was killed in Afghanistan, serving as an officer in Lord
Auckland's army.
On the right is the
portrait of his son, Richard's father, Sir Drake Cailean.
Sir Drake took his first breath in 1871, the year P.T. Barnum created his
famous circus. He was attracted to the excitement and spectacle of Barnum's
show, and decided to transform the family's white slavery business into a
circus of the flesh.
He made a contract
with the satyrs, half-dwarf men-half animals. He discovered them living in
caves under the estate vineyard growing north of the forest. They provided a
magical aphrodisiac wine, in exchange for protection and the occasional loan of
a pretty girl. Chained naked to the stone platform in the middle of a circle of
standing stones hidden deep in the forest, she was their sexual toy for one
evening.
Then fate removed
him as he sailed for America to purchase more unwary young girls lured into
warehouses, or abducted from the streets and boarding houses of New York. On
April 15, 1912, Sir Drake disappeared as the Titanic slipped below the freezing
surface of the Atlantic. Thus twenty-one year old Richard became Sir Richard Cailean, Laird of Blackthorne
House.
"You're a pretty
little thing." Garrett put his hand under the sobbing girl's chin and lifted it
to look at her face.
The newly captured
girl whimpered. "Please, sir, don't do this to me. Please, let me go home." The
brunette's brown eyes glimmered with tears, her arms stretched upward, framing
her heart-shaped face.
"But you are home,
my lovely little dove. This cage is your new home, and we are going to teach
you how to make men very happy."
She twisted her
wrists in their cuffs, her toes stretching downward, trying to find the floor
inches below them. "No-o-o-o, please, let me go!" Her petite, cone-shaped
breasts jiggled with her panicked breathing.
"Such dainty little
nipples you have," Gerritt said, pinching one. "Like
baby strawberries. I'll enjoy nibbling them."
The girl broke into
uncontrolled sobbing, her naked body shuddering as he stroked his hands down
her belly. "I'm a good girl."
"I'm counting on
that," he replied. "If you are good for all of us men, we won't have to whip
you so often." He gripped her shoulders and spun her around. "Looks like you
are a slow learner." He dragged his fingers over the crimson whip marks laced
across her back and ass.
"She's a stubborn
one," Gregor said with a rumbling laugh. His huge,
naked black body gleamed with oil and perspiration. "But I enjoy my work, and
the whip will teach her respect and enthusiasm."
"Well, she's
already making my cock hard. Keep working on her. I think this one will share
my bed tonight."
Richard and Gerritt strode over to the next girl as Gregor
drew back his whip hand. The hapless girl shrieked as it painted one more
stripe on her buttocks.
The red-haired girl
was tied to a horizontal pole, her arms pulled straight back over it and wrapped
down around its thick circumference. Her ankles were spread wide apart and tied
to ringbolts in the floor.
"Your turn," Gerritt said to Richard.
Richard cupped one
of her whipped breasts in his hand. "What have they done to you?"
She lifted her
head, fire smoldering in her emerald eyes. "Brute!" she said and spat in his
face.
CRACK! Crom's whip bit into her defenseless buttocks.
"Ah-h-h-uh-unh!"
She clamped her eyes shut and gritted her teeth.
Crom coiled his
whip around his hand and stepped forward. "Here's a real spitfire," he said.
"Thinks she's the queen and nobody should touch her. Won't mind her manners."
He grinned and gripped his manhood. "Doesn't respect this, won't confess it's
her master."
"She's beautiful,"
Richard said. "I'd really like her to be ready for the Autumn ball. Might
choose her for my first fuck that night."