The ChateauTaming Cassandraby Vixxen
While she dressed for dinner, Cassandra watched the film of Nicola's afternoon tutelage, trying to absorb every reaction, every flicker of the girl's eyelashes in order to understand her better. Know your enemy was a maxim Cassandra believed in; and although she liked the fair-haired girl well enough, she knew that as far as the game went she was the enemy and had to be defeated. Because she was so absorbed in what she was watching, Cassandra lost track of time and found herself frantically piling her hair on the top of her head with only five minutes to go before the eight thirty dinner gong.
One final glance in her mirror showed Cassandra that the neckline of her dress needed jewelry, and she grabbed a strand of graduated pearls with delicate gold fittings that had been a present from her lover after a particularly successful party earlier that year.
She reached the door of the small dining room perhaps a half a minute after the gong had sounded, and was so relieve that without thinking she hurried straight into the room. The baron, who had been handing Nicola a drink, looked up at his mistress in astonishment. "Did you knock?" he demanded curtly.
She felt her stomach sink and knew that there was no point in lying. "No, I'm very sorry, Deiter, I forgot."
His eyes widened in surprise. "How unfortunate. Were you hurrying? You have a strand of hair loose." He moved to stand in front of her and with unusual gentleness lifted the offending hair off the nape of her neck and tucked it into the less than perfect knot high on her head. "I'm afraid you'll have to be punished, libeling. We can't have Nicola thinking that such behavior is acceptable."
"Of course not," agree Cassandra, aware that Nicola was listening with interest. She was wearing a bright multi-colored two-piece with a cowl neck top, elbow length sleeves and a pleated skirt that reached to the middle of her knees. "I was complimenting Nicola on her choice of evening wear," continued the baron smoothly, handing Cassandra a glass of champagne.
The baron chuckled lowly but Cassandra didn't feel in the least amused. She knew that she must now go right through the entire meal while the baron decided exactly what kind of punishment to administer for her transgression.
The first course was a thick homemade vegetable soup, almost a meal in itself for Cassandra whose appetite had vanished. This was followed by a beautifully poached salmon, caught that very morning, and served with tiny potatoes and a green salad. Individual meringues topped with fresh raspberries, peaches and cream were the desert, and as usual there was a different wine with every course.
Cassandra fiddled with her wineglass and tried to catch the baron's eye, however he ignored her and spent most of the time in lively conversation with Nicola.
Pushing back his chair, the baron waved away Sophie, who had just brought in the coffeepot. "We'll have coffee later," he said curtly. "Ladies, come with me please. And Sophie, you'll be needed in the ballet room." He then took a small notebook from his inside pocket and scribbled on it. "Bring these things with you when you come."
"I believe you know the rule about knocking before entering a room, Nicola," said the baron, leading the way along the twisting corridors.
"Yes, Cassandra told me."
"Regrettably she forgot tonight. In fact, it was of no matter, but I could have been engaged in some private conversation or act of intimacy that she was not intended to see, would you not agree?"
"I... Yes, of course," murmured Nicola, flattered to be consulted.
"Which is why she must now be punished. She understands this, don't you, my dear?"
"Yes," murmured Cassandra, wishing that her stomach would stop churning.
At last they reached the far side of the chateau, and the baron pushed on the covered doors and led them into a huge room with a high ceiling. Along one side of the room there was a bar where ballet movements could be practiced. The opposite wall had two sets of bars, there were also vaulting horses and extending wall bars that hung suspended from the ceiling.
Cassandra stood silently next to the baron and waited to hear what punishment he'd chosen for her. He strolled down the floor, whistling softly to himself.
Suddenly he turned on his heel and pointed to the extending bars. "These, I think, will serve out purpose. Cassandra, remove that delightful dress and anything that you may have on beneath it. For this exercise clothes are not necessary. You may keep the pearls on."
She stared at him, and for a second he saw a look of humiliated disbelief in them before they went totally blank again. They both knew that of all the punishments he could have chosen for her to endure beneath Nicola's watchful gaze, this was the one she found the hardest to accept.
Now Cassandra was naked. Her small waist, flat stomach and thick dark pubic hair still had the power to arouse mixed feelings in the baron. He loved the times when he could drive her out of her mind, make her totally lose control of her much prized self-possession and yet he also needed her calmness, that quiet self-contained air of aloofness that contrasted so sharply with his excesses.
At the moment that confidence was not in evidence. Her breasts were small, the nipples almost flat and for a moment she even nibbled on one of her fingernails before she realized that he was watching her.
Behind them the doors opened, and Sophie entered. She had a tray with bowls and linen on it, and behind her was Peter, clearly summoned unexpectedly since he was still fastening his leather belt.
The baron took a thick towel from the tray and spread it over the shiny top wooden beam. "Stand on the lower bar and bend over the higher one from the waist," he said to Cassandra. She obeyed, and Peter quickly moved a stool from the side of the room for the baron to sit on. He lowered himself onto it and after studying Cassandra's rounded buttocks carefully, decided to lower the top bar a fraction more so that she doubled over at a sharper angle. When that was done to his satisfaction he locked the second beam in place.
"Now spread your ankles about a foot apart," he said softly, letting his fingers tickle the crease when the buttocks and the base of the spine met. He was now in the perfect position to carry out the punishment that he had decided on, and signaled for Peter to part the cheeks of Cassandra's bottom.
Feeling this, the weight in Cassandra's stomach seemed to grow heavier. She was already full from the meal they'd eaten, and the pressure of the beam was uncomfortable against her belly. The backs of her thighs were stretched and aching, and even when she spread her arms out on either side it didn't help very much. In the end she let her arms dangle down in front of the beams.
Next the baron reached across to the tray that Sophie was holding, and to Nicola's astonishment he picked up what looked like a large icing bag with a long nozzle on the end. He then filled the bag with a thick white mixture from the bowl.
"Bear down, Cassandra, " he said softly. "You seem hot; I think this should help cool you down."
Her body was well trained and she knew that in order to facilitate whatever it was that he intended to introduce into her back passage it was necessary for her to push down, but it was hard to make herself do that when her bowels we already churning so treacherously she was terrified of losing control of them.
He let his fingers tickle around the tightly puckered opening, and heard Nicola's intake of breath as he positioned the nozzle of the icing bag against the tiny hole. Struggling to compose herself, Cassandra did as she was told and as the hole opened a fraction he slid the nozzle inside her, moving it from side to side in minute movements that were all the more wicked for being so slight since the highly sensitive nerve endings inside her back passage reacted instantly to the stimulation and her stomach swelled and cramped against the beam.
"Breathe slowly, and draw it in now," the baron told her, his voice low and caressing, as though this was a treat and not a punishment. She found it desperately hard to obey and had to choke back a whimper of fear as her spasming muscles threatened to betray her.
"Caress her breasts, quickly," said the baron to Peter who was standing ready on the opposite side of the bars. He obeyed, drawing the shrinking nipples out from the breasts and then licked them with slow, heavy strokes that soon had them swelling and as this delicate pleasure made itself felt she managed to keep the nozzle inside her tight back passage.
"Excellent!" remarked the baron, glancing at the wide-eyed Nicola. "You see how well she obeys me. This is a difficult lesson to learn, but one which you too will come to master. Now Cassandra, let us see if this does indeed cool you."
As the baron squeezed steadily on the icing bag the whipped cream, which had been kept in the coldest part of the fridge until the last possible moment, oozed out of the pointed nozzle and into Cassandra's rectum. It was so cold that her whole body contracted with shock, and Peter's tongue lost contact with her nipples as she drew away from him with an involuntary jerk.
The baron had never flooded her with anything this cold before and she didn't think that she could bear it. The pressure against her inner walls made itself felt through he front passage as well. He whole swollen stomach felt invaded by a cold, leaden chill. "Please stop," she whispered.
He eased the pressure on the icing bag, reached beneath her and tapped two fingers against the delicate skin that stretched between her front and rear passages. This only seemed to make the sensation worse, although it meant new pleasurable feelings also shot through her.
"You've taken very little yet," he said flatly. "I do not expect complaints. Unless of course you wish to stop the punishment already." She didn't, she must not fail in setting the perfect example of the standards expected by her lover.
"May I proceed?" he enquired softly.
"Yes," gasped Cassandra, wondering how much more she could possibly bear.
He spent several more minutes letting the cream fill her, and every time she groaned or fidgeted he would let his fingers drum insidiously on the tight membrane again until she kept silent or still.
When he eased the nozzle out of her she expelled her breath in gratitude, and he smiled to himself. "That's the first part over. Now, fetching as you look with that strand of pearls around your neck I don't think you really deserve to wear them tonight, do you?"
Now she knew exactly what was coming, and precisely how great her self-control was expected to be. As Peter fondled her breasts and tried to distract her with tongue and fingers she managed to reply to the baron's cruel question. "No, I don't," she murmured.
"Speak up, Cassandra, Nicola couldn't possibly have heard that."
"I don't deserve to wear the pearls," she said clearly.
The baron gently unfastened the pearls from around his mistress's neck, releasing her hair as he did so, in order that it could spill over her shoulder in wild disarray. When he sat back on his stool he turned to Nicola and showed her the strand of pearls. "Once Cassandra has taken these inside her I shall remove them very slowly, and as each pearl comes out she will have a climax. That, I think, should more than compensate for initial discomfort. Do you approve?"
Nicola was trembling from head to foot. She couldn't believe that one day he would do anything so diabolical to her, and yet guessed in her heart of hearts that it was true. She found it equally hard to believe that the woman bent double in front of them, her muscles clenched against the invasion of her rectum, could produce any kind of climax by the end of the session, let alone a series, but she didn't intend to voice her doubt to this extraordinary, terrifying and yet magnetic man whom she wanted to please more than she'd ever wanted to please anyone.
"I think she's very lucky," she said shyly.
The baron swiftly removed the clasp at the end of the strand and knotted the remaining cord. He then covered the knot in some of the cream from the bowl, eased open the parting between the quivering buttocks in front of him and twisted against the resisting flesh.
"Contract your muscles, draw in the end," he told Cassandra, and as she obeyed she felt her pelvic muscles contract as well which tightened her whole pelvic area and for the first time started to arouse her previously dormant clitoris.
"Every time a pearl needs to be taken in you must repeat the contraction," said the baron, delighted by her swift compliance with his instructions. "As you probably remember, they increase in size for a time and then decrease. I will let you know when you manage to take in the largest."
For Cassandra, drawing in the first few pearls proved relatively easy. Her rear opening had been well lubricated by the cream and each tightening of the muscles increased the excitement between her thighs, but when the pearls increased in size she found it more difficult and by the time she reached what the baron assured her was the largest it seemed as though her rectum was already full as the pearls nestled in a coiled heap within the slowly melting pool of cream.
He stood up and let a hand move smoothly and slowly down her rounded spine. He reached beneath her labia, sliding up the inner sides of them towards where her slowly expanding nub of pleasure was waiting for him. As he located it, he heard Cassandra's soft sigh of gratitude. He then massaged with the very lightest of touches on each side of the nub so that the stimulated pelvic muscles automatically began to contract.
Very quickly he pressed the largest of the pearls against the now pulsating mouth of her bottom and as her clitoris continued to send shivers of pleasure through her, the muscular contractions spread from front to back and almost without realizing it she drew the largest pearl into her back passage where it joined the rest of strand.
After that it was easy for the final few pearls, decreasing in size now, to be inserted until finally there was only the end of the thread left hanging, together with the half of the clasp that the baron had not had to remove.
"Well done, darling girl," he whispered against her ear, bending over the bar and her heart leapt at his use of the endearment that he kept only for her. "All that follows will be pleasure," he promised before moving back to his stool once more.
He was as good as his word. The very first tug on the necklace caused the inner walls of Cassandra's rectum to move outwards, and they in turn moved the walls of her vagina. This, combined with a sharp tap against her clitoris every time a pearl was extracted meant that tiny orgasmic shocks swept up across her still tight but no longer aching abdomen and the more pearls that were removed the greater the pleasure grew, until it came to the last one.
Here the baron paused. He got Peter to leave Cassandra's breasts, and instead had him hold her clitoral hood firmly up, leaving the moist, tight nub totally exposed. Cassandra waited, holding her breath as she prepared for his final move.
From the tray the baron took a tiny circle of sponge, covered it in lubricating cream and then moved his free hand so that the sponge was poised directly above the waiting bud. Cassandra knew that his hand was there, but had no idea what was in it. All she could do was trust him.
"Now for the last pearl," he murmured, and as she bore down in order to help pull it free, she pressed her clitoris down too and it connected with the lubricated sponge which he then rotated at speed, with the result that her nerve endings, for so long tensed and desperate for the right firm, steady pressure, were suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of sensations that seemed to go on forever as he continued to press and roll the sponge. He could feel the swollen hardness beneath it slipping and sliding while Cassandra's whole body went stiff with the sudden violent rush of ecstatic pleasure.
She made no sound, but the sight of her whole body contracting and her hair cascading across her back and shoulders with every movement excited the baron even more than the previous punishment had done. Swiftly he pulled her off the beams and then carried her across to the carpet in the middle of the room, tearing off his own clothes as soon as he'd laid her down. Totally ignoring the others in the room he covered Cassandra's body with his own and thrust into her. He thrust without finesse, without any build-up of rhythm but with a desperate urgency whose excitement communicated itself to all the onlookers so that they were each, in their own way, left aching with desire and stunned by the ferocity of his need.
For Cassandra this savage coupling, accompanied as it was by tender murmurings in his own language was more than recompense for what she endured before-hand. She also knew that Nicola would be more concerned by his uncontrollable obsession to possess her immediately than by anything else she'd witnessed.
To Chapter 2
|
