The dining tables were set out in a U shape in one of the ballrooms, beneath chandeliers that built towers of glittering light towards the distant ceiling. The polished floors rang to the sounds of footsteps as Marcel's house staff served course after course of light, savoury dishes that would inflame the carnal appetites rather than dampen them. And all along the tables the lights reflected off the crystal glass of the wine goblets that were constantly being refilled. Conversation was loud and cheerful among the guests as they discussed and assessed the slaveflesh before them. The slaves themselves were tethered to rails that ran along the fronts of the various tables. The females - and they were by far the majority - had their leashes running from where their hands were clipped together behind their backs, between their legs and then to the rail. The few males likewise had their hands clipped behind them but their leashes ran from the various piercings their mistresses had had put into their cocks and balls.

All the slaves were masked with animal heads. It was a tradition of these gatherings that the slaves contributed by the guests should be anonymous and should be shared out amongst all the guests. The masks were almost hoods in that they covered the upper faces completely and the heads, leaving the women only a hole for their hair to show at the back, gathered into pony tails. Just their mouths and eyes showed, wide, apprehensive and excited. Some owners had added ball gags if they felt that their property might disgrace them by making a noise during dinner. Each slave wore a floor length cloak fastened at the neck but as they had been paraded to their places, the heavy material had pulled back and now simply framed the vulnerable nudity each slave presented.

Marcel was well pleased with the display, there were some succulent pieces there, ready to be played with down in the château's cellars later on. Beside him, Marie squirmed in her seat with excitement. The guests had all dressed in eighteenth century costume and the neck line of her embroidered gown barely contained the rippling and trembling mounds of her breasts. She had contributed two well-muscled young men and three girls to the evening. Her male slaves were both proudly priapic - as she had trained them to be - as she pointed them out to Marcel.

"You can hood their heads, but you can't disguise a cock!" she giggled as she and a friend considered what they were going to do to them later on.

Marcel listened fondly while his eyes remained on the tall figure in front of him, her breasts riding high and proud on her chest, her freshly shaven delta just showing the start of her labial split and her long thighs parted enough to allow her leash to pass between them. The fox mask she wore allowed the mane of blonde hair to escape onto her shoulders. He had cheated a little and ensured that Blondie was stationed directly in front of his place. She was magnificent, standing taller and more proudly than any of the other females, occasionally allowing the tip of her tongue with its sombre steel piercing, to wet her full lips.

Marcel let his thoughts wander towards the end of the night when he would take this princess amongst slaves to his bed with Marie or any of the other free women and sample those lips at their most intimate and submissive but he was interrupted by the guest sitting on his other side.

"Got anything special lined up tonight?" he asked.

"We've got a punishment coming up and a branding later on."

As he finished speaking, Guillaume, resplendent in breeches, brocade jacket and wig, strode up to the head table and begged permission to introduce a punishment that had been requested by Madame de Brunaille. Her slave had been less than enthusiastic when she had been lent to a friend and Madame wanted the slut to be taught that she was available to anyone Madame gave her to. To that end she wanted the girl beaten round the tables. It was another tradition amongst Marcel's group and the news was greeted with applause and feet drumming on the floor as the stocks were wheeled in.

They were the bench variety, where a body can be strapped down along the bench, whilst the head and hands are trapped in the stock boards at the head. This one had simply had small castors added to make it mobile. A girl was already strapped tightly to the machine, face down when she was entered. One of the stewards that Marcel employed pushed her until she was in front of her Mistress' place. She was a tall woman in a pale blue silk gown, she held lorgnettes up to her eyes to survey the naked wretch before her.

"Well, you slut? Do you confess that you thoroughly deserve this punishment?"

"Yes, Mistress. I...I won't ever be disobedient again!"

"You're right, you won't! Beat her round the tables please, M'sieur!" She waved a languid hand at the steward, also in costume who was joined by another. They stripped off their blouson tops and there were murmurings of female approval of the muscular physiques thus displayed.

The girl was quite plump and as she lay along the top of the bench, displayed a pleasingly deep amount of buttock meat. Her back was quite broad and her thighs long enough to take plenty of work from the heavy straps the men now took down from the ends of the stock board, where the girl had been able to see them. She whimpered just before the punishment began.

As soon as the men started, throwing the lashes down with enough energy and passion to fetch some applause from the onlookers, the conversations and laughter began again. The loud smacks of the straps landing from right and left of the slave echoed in the high room and after only a few, the sound was joined by high pitched, fluting cries. Some of the tethered slaves became restless when they heard the punishment begin but Guillaume and some of the others, Claire among them calmed them down with a word or a stroke. Marcel noted that Claire seemed to find calming the male slaves with a squeeze and a stroke of hard cock, the more appealing and made a note to see to her downstairs if the chance arose. He noticed the tall blonde in front of him made no reaction whatever, even when the stocks were brought to a stop right beside her and another twenty lashes were delivered before the stocks moved on. The wailing was almost constant now and the buttocks jiggled up and down frantically under the relentless fusillade of strikes from both sides.

"Stop!" Madame called. "The slut's coming! Wheel her away into a corner and we'll finish her later."

The wailing was replaced by sobbing as the slave was pushed into a corner.

Towards the end of the meal she was taken out again and beaten along the rest of the top table and all along the length of the left leg of the U. This time the girl managed to hold her orgasm at bay and got through to the end.

Her mistress rose and took a bow as the stocks were wheeled away. The girl's cries and the whips striping her had inflamed the diners nicely, and the way the three bodies involved in the display had gleamed with sweat under the lights had lit the fuse that would lead to the explosions of pleasure in the cellars. Marcel rose and held up his hands. There was instant silence.

"My friends, it is time to make our way downstairs! Please make free use of any slaves - including my household ones for whom there wasn't sufficient room at the table. We will be pleased to witness the branding of our dear friend Gerhardt Buerger's lovely slave Agnetha - a lady I know many of you have enjoyed in the past! Now, may I suggest we move along and meet after disrobing!"