Chapter One

 

Christine felt her stomach churn with anxiety as the cab rolled to a stop in front of the huge and rambling house. Am I ready for this? She took a deep breath as she looked out the window. I'd better be!

She checked her clothing, quickly tugging her skirt down to where it belonged. A quick finger over the lips to make sure her lip gloss was just so and...

Here goes!

The driver had already taken her single suitcase out of the boot and placed it alongside the entryway, now he returned to the cab and opened the door for her, watching as she carefully slid off the seat, making sure to keep her dress from riding up. "You're sure this is the right address?" He bit at his lower lip as he ran an eye over the front of the house. "You do know what they call this house-- don't you?"

She nodded, unwilling to trust her voice, and handed him the amount they had agreed upon.

"Bondage Manor." He pocketed the money and turned away. "That's what people call it around these parts-pretty girls like you go through that door." He climbed back into the cab. "And not a one of them ever seems to come out." He peered at her through the window. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

I hope so too! Christine watched the cab start up and pull away, then, after another long breath; she stepped to the massive oak doors and knocked tentatively.

 

"Master Thomas?" The tone was low and respectful. "Can you spare a moment?"

Thomas Kinley sighed at the interruption, even as he maintained the concentration required to keep the cadence he had developed while lashing the woman squirming before him.

"Just a moment." His right arm continued its practiced motion, striking first her left ass cheek, then her right with the still-springy willow switch he had chosen. "Only a few more..."

The girl had long since given up trying to scream or beg-the tight rubber gag in her mouth prevented any understandable sounds from escaping in any event. She had also grown too exhausted by the constant pain to continue her earlier efforts to get free-at this point, she even lacked the energy to attempt avoiding the precise placement of the strokes he was laying on. Efforts that had proved futile considering her very strict positioning on the wooden stocks-positioning that held her so tightly that she was unable to move any part of her displayed hindquarters.

Her whole body shuddered as the beating continued--Lord Thomas had promised her fifty strokes-and there were five yet to be suffered.

Swack!

Swack!

Thomas continued his alternating motion. The girl's ass was deep red now, marked from top to bottom and from side to side. She won't be able to sit for a while, Thomas told himself. Which should serve as a reminder of her proper position in this house!

Swack!

Swack! One more...

Thomas always tried to make the last one special-memorable in some way beyond the pain it might cause. With this in mind, he stepped forward until he was just behind the bound girl and ran his hand over her burning ass, smiling at the small noises she made through her gag.

"One more to go, slave." He allowed his finger to wander into her cunt-smiled when he found it soaking wet. "Where shall I place it?"

He waited a moment, watching as the girls muscles twitched and strained at the effort to move as she realized what he had in mind.

Of course, it was all in vain-she was held immobile while, still smiling; he took a long step back and raised the switch one more time. Right about there would be best I think...

The final stroke impacted directly on the girl's offered cunt, bringing a garbled moan and more straining muscles. "Let that be a lesson to you, slave." Thomas tossed the switch to one side and picked up a ready towel. "You are here to serve-not be served." He wiped sweat off his neck and arms, then turned away from the pinioned girl and picked up his shirt. "There'll be another lesson later this evening..." He smiled as he heard a small moan. "Better get some rest while you can."

As he pulled his shirt on, Thomas strode toward the door where a tall man in butler's uniform waited. "I take it the new girl has arrived?" Thomas saw the butler nod slightly. "What is she like?"

"As described, sir." Waites had been in service to Thomas' family for nearly forty years-having taken over the post only when his own father grew too old to properly fill it. "Rather short in the legs, but a pretty face and a fetching figure-if I may say so."

"Her attitude?" Thomas headed for the front door.

"She seems to know what is expected of her, sir." Waites followed. "I left her at the door per our usual rules."

"Good." Thomas reached the door, "Let's see if she'll be suitable."

 

Christine started as the door opened again. She'd given a moment's thought to sitting on her suitcase while she waited for the butler to fetch his master, but decided against it. Martin briefed me on the rules here. She stood straighter as a rather tall man in jeans and a white shirt strode out. I don't want to screw up before I even get inside!

"You are Christine Karatsky?" The man's voice was perfectly suited to his looks-deep, unworried-sure of its place in the world.

"I am, sir."

The man walked around Christine, hard eyes looking over her every inch. "You know what will be expected of you?"

Christine felt her heart beat a little faster at the answer to that question. "I do, sir."

"Once you are inside, you become property-my property--until your contract is completed."

"I understand that, sir."

"You also understand that I will expect perfect obedience and service-and that anything less will be punished."

She felt her face redden at that. "I do, sir."

Thomas locked eyes with her, held her gaze for several seconds-then turned away.

"You have one more chance to change your mind." He moved back to the doorway, watching her expression as he did so. "Women wear no covering of any kind inside this place." He smiled, eyes roving over her. "If you are truly ready to honour your contract, remove your clothes and enter." He turned and walked into the house. "I shall be awaiting your decision."

Christine stared at the still-open door for a long moment, then bent down and opened her suitcase. It was empty-but would not stay that way for long. She quietly removed the skirt and blouse she was wearing, folded them, and placed them into the case. Her shoes and panties followed-she had not worn a bra or stockings in preparation for this, knowing it to be a condition of her contract. Nude, she stood and walked through the door and into the manor. I hope I made the right decision, she told herself as the door clicked shut behind her.

 

The interior hall was dimly lit and comfortably cool. Christine took a few steps forward, stopping when the butler stepped in front of her. "Slaves do not walk these halls unfettered." His voice was low and commanding. "Put your hands behind you."

Christine had been worried about this aspect of things. She had been bound many times before, and knew how much pleasure simple bondage brought her. But that was with someone I knew and trusted. She looked at the butler standing so firmly in front of her. Nobody here falls into that category... She drew in a deep breath. Still, I knew this was coming when I agreed to the contract so...

She put her hands behind her, wrist over wrist.

"Very good." The butler stepped behind her, producing a set of metal handcuffs from somewhere in his coat. "I think you'll find these comfortable enough..."

She winced as the metal closed tightly around her wrists-there was no chain joining the two cuffs, which meant her hands were touching each other with no play at all. She tugged at the cuffs, felt the hardness of the steel, and realized that all choices had now been taken from her.

"This way," the butler stepped in front of her and motioned. "Slave."

Slave... The word echoed in Christine's brain, reinforced by the strain on her shoulders and wrists. Am I really only that? Just a slave?

The butler led her through a relatively large and nearly empty room. What furniture there was seemed ancient, consisting of a couch that was decades out of fashion balanced by an overstuffed easy chair. Both were placed rather haphazardly in front of a gigantic fireplace. Christine could see sculpted figures on both sides of the hearth although it was too dark to make them out. There were noises as well, slight sounds that came from rooms scattered down the hallways she could see on either side of the room she was in.

Some of the noises sounded suspiciously like sobbing.

"Master Thomas is waiting for you." The butler led her to an oaken door. "Remember your place and all will be well." He knocked on the door and turned the knob at some unheard command. "Master Thomas," he announced as he pushed the door opened. "Here is the new slave."

"Very good, Waites." The dark haired man was leaning against a huge desk, eyes fixed on the doorway. "Have her come in."

At a nod from the butler, Christine made her way into the big office. She noticed something moving to her right, and turned her head a bit to see what it was.

My God! Christine almost stopped in her tracks. There's a girl there! She turned her head further--enough to see a set of wooden stocks standing in one corner. A blonde girl around her own age was strapped to those stocks, her legs pulled out tight and tied to the bottom corner of the wooden contraption, her body bent over a mid-bar so that her ass and legs were fully revealed and, judging by the red marks that criss-crossed her ass had been beaten quite thoroughly.

"The slave wasn't pleasing."

Christine turned to see the dark man still leaning against the desk, his eyes fixed on her.

"She has been properly punished-as will you if you make the same sort of mistake."

Christine swallowed hard, a shiver running through her-but she had the presence of mind to tear her gaze away from the punished girl and walk the rest of the way to the big desk and the man waiting for her there.

"Kneel there." He pointed to a spot about two feet in front of him. "Do it properly."

Christine had been taught to kneel by the man who had sent her here, and managed to fall to her knees with the proper grace.

"Good." The dark-haired man stared down at her. "I see you've had some training."

"Yes, sir."

He smiled. "While in this house you will call me Master-is that clear?"

"Yes," she swallowed again. "Master."

"You know your purpose here?"

Christine nodded. "I'm to translate some old texts."

"You're familiar with Olde English and the other languages involved?"

"Yes master."

"Good." He smiled at her. "Do your job well and you will live comfortably enough. Fail and..." He gestured toward the girl in the corner. "You will be punished."

"Yes master."

"Waites will show you to your cell." He touched a control on his desk-something which notified the butler that he was wanted. "Later this evening, I will show you to the library and indicate which texts I want you to begin with."

"Yes master." She had found the word cell chilling in a way she hadn't expected.

"Go with Waites." He nodded at the now-open door. "We will speak again later."

Christine got back to her feet and did as she was told-she didn't want to be punished-at least, not yet.

Chapter Two

 

"Each of the cells has a combination sink and lavatory." Waites spoke over his shoulder as he led Christine down a long corridor. "You are expected to keep yourself clean and presentable at all times."

"Yes sir." Christine thought it best to answer although no question had been asked.

"I think we will put you here." He stopped and swung open a door. "It is as convenient as any to the library where you will do your work, and it has had no recent occupant."

Christine stepped into the indicated room, stopping just inside the door to look around. Well, it's not as bad as it could be, she told herself. The room was small-no more than 6 feet square with no windows and a single light on the ceiling covered with some kind of wire mesh. There was no bed-just a metal-framed cot bolted to the wall to her right. On the other wall was a jail-style sink and toilet-just as the butler had described. Metal rings were set into the walls, ceiling, and floor at odd intervals. Christine didn't want to guess what their purpose was,

"Kneel in the centre of the floor, slave."

Christine did as she was told-cuffed as she was, there wasn't much else she could do.

"Good." The butler walked up beside her and pulled a thin metal chain out of one of his pockets. "The master will see that you get a proper collar later this evening. For the moment, we will use this to maintain security." He clipped the end of the chain to one of the rings on the floor, locking it with a small padlock. The other end was locked to a ring on her handcuffs.

"I suggest you get some rest." The butler stepped through the door. "The master may want to test you tonight." He shut the door, locking it with a key from the outside. "His tests can be rather strenuous."

Then he was gone, and Christine was left kneeling and chained. She worked her hands in the cuffs and was not surprised to find them tight, with not a bit of give that might allow her to slip free. Well, she told herself. I wanted to try this... She got back to her feet and stepped to the cot, lowering herself into the most comfortable position she could manage. The cold chain was under her and the cot's mattress was very thin-but at least she could lie down and think. She stared up at the caged light bulb and tried to imagine what the next days would be like.

She was still trying to imagine it when she fell asleep.

 

Christine awoke when the door to her cell was opened. Waites, the butler, stood there staring at her and it took her a moment to realize that she was lying on the cot. She quickly rolled off and onto the floor, and knelt before the man.

"I see that you can remember the rules." He unlocked her from the chain and motioned for her to stand. "I won't punish you this time-but the next time you forget-even for a moment..."

Christine shivered as she followed him out into the hall. She couldn't help but remember the woman she had seen in the dark-haired man's office-I wonder if that was planned-and imagine herself moaning in that same place.

There were two other young women already in the hallway. Each was kneeling in place, waiting for the butler to lead them to wherever their final destination was. One, a slim blonde with large breasts, was wearing a leather collar of some kind. Christine could see that her hands were attached to the back of the collar, but couldn't see quite how.

The second girl was a little plumper and was wearing some kind of harness on her head that included a bit gag and a feathery plume. Some sort of leather harness was tied tightly around her body, with straps tightly cinched above and beneath her breasts. A final strap ran between her legs.

Christine was motioned to join the other girls, then, as one, all three rose and followed the butler down the hall.

Last in line, Christine could see that the blonde's hands were bound in a sort of praying position behind her back, palm to palm, with a single strap around the wrists that was clipped to the back of her collar. The other girl had, aside from the straps, a pair of oversized shoes, almost like animal hooves, on her feet.

Both girls showed the marks of recent punishments-red lines and welts that went across their butts and backs.

Christine wanted to ask them what they had done to earn such punishments-but knew that talking was forbidden by the rules of the house. She walked with them, in silence, until they were led into a large, richly-panelled room.

"Come in, slaves." The dark-haired man was seated at the head of a small trestle table set at one end of the room. He had a mug of some kind in his hands and there was a full dinner service set in front of him-but the rest of the table was bare, something that puzzled Christine until she noted the floor in front of the table. There, side by side, were four dog dishes.

"Into your positions for dinner."

Christine followed the other girls as they moved toward the dog dishes and copied their movements, kneeling down in front of the one at the far right end. She started to look up at the dark-haired man but stopped when she realized that the other girls were all keeping their heads carefully down.

"I see that our new addition learns quickly." Christine kept her head down, studying the richly aged oak that made up the floor. "Good."

A few seconds later, out of the corner of her eye, Christine saw a new figure appear. A tall girl with a very shapely figure and very long red hair emerged from a door at the far end of the room. She had a collar like the one on the blonde girl but her wrists were bound in front of her and she was carrying a platter of some kind.

Careful not to raise her head, Christine followed the girl's legs as she walked to the side of the table and placed the platter in front of the dark-haired man. Finished, she backed toward Christine's position and knelt quietly at the last of the dog dishes, putting her hands on the floor between her knees.

"Nicely done, Sian." Christine could feel the dark-haired man's smile. "I might take you to my bed tonight."

Christine saw the redhead's skin blush red, than was surprised as a hand dumped a ladle full of some kind of stew into her dish.

"Eat up, slaves." The butler moved to the redhead, dropped an equal amount of food into her dish, repeating the chore until all four dishes were filled. "You know what will happen if you leave any scraps..."

Christine didn't know what would happen-but it had been hours since her last meal and the stew or soup or whatever was warm and hearty looking. She swallowed her pride-a useless commodity in this place--and lowered her head to the bowl, trying her best to lap up the meal just as quickly as she could.