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Authors: Esme Ombreux

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica

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BOOK: Discipline of the Private House
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Master Robert had hardly attempted to disguise the disgust in her voice. 'She's as wet as a swamp already,' he had announced. 'Barat, remove your hand from her flesh. At once, I say!'

Barat had then joined Master Robert, and while Olena had sobbed quietly the two men had stared in silence at her pudenda.

T begin to think her case is hopeless,' Master Robert had said at last. 'She is surely blemished beyond redemption. She thinks of little but the stimulation of her desires, and she clearly enjoys flaunting her considerable charms in order to tempt others into lascivious thoughts. I believe that the mere act of removing her robe excites her.'

Olena had heard Master Robert's verdict with despair. She knew his judgement was accurate.

Til send her back to the community,' Barat had said, and she had cried out, partly with guilt as she heard the sadness in his voice, but mainly at the thought of being parted from Barat.

She had pleaded with the men to let her stay. She had promised that she would try harder to be good; that she would submit to any course of training, no matter how strict, that might restore her to the path of righteousness.

Master Robert and Barat had looked at each other. T am her appointed guardian,' Barat had said. T will remain with her for as long as is necessary.' Olena had almost swooned with relief at his words.

Master Robert had merely shrugged. 'Very well,' he had said. 'But from now on we will conduct ourselves in the manner prescribed here in the Chateau. She will be punished regularly, to remind her that she has still to prove herself. And we will begin to explore, rather than attempt to repress, her lewd thoughts and behaviour. We will plumb the depths of her depravity.'

Olena had acquiesced. She wanted to be with Barat, and she knew she deserved to be punished. But she knew also that there was no hope for her: they would find, she feared, that there was no limit to her wickedness.

Master Robert had told her to ask for an immediate chastisement. She had begged them to whip her. Master Robert had produced two short, leather straps.

'Kneel on the couch,' he had said. 'Lift your bottom as high as you can. Bafat, you will work on the right buttock. I'll deal with the left. Up to now this young woman has had the mildest of spankings. She is about to begin to discover the true meaning of discipline in the Chateau.'

And as she had hollowed her back and pressed her breasts flat against the velvet seat, Olena had been horrified to realise that she felt only vain pride in exhibiting the plump roundness of her bottom, and a thrilling anticipation of the stinging heat that was about to suffuse it.

They had smacked her with hard, rapid strokes. Olena had begun to drift into an ocean of diffuse sensations when Master Robert had called on Barat to stop.

'As you see, Barat,' Master Robert had said, 'this is, as we feared, merely making her more aroused than ever. See how she's trembling? And look at the sheen of liquid on the insides of her thighs. I'll have her put in the dungeon. We'll continue with this tomorrow.'

And so she had been taken underground, down spiralling stone stairways and along grim tunnels, and had been locked into this cell.

She had wept for a while, and then upbraided herself for her weakness. She had slept, for she knew not how long, on the huge, soft bed.

And now, as she cast her eyes about her sumptuous prison, she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock of the door. The bolt was drawn. The door opened, and a young woman as naked as Olena herself stumbled into the cell. The door closed and was locked.

Olena instinctively moved her hands to cover herself. The other woman made no such move, but instead tilted her head to one side and smiled crookedly. Olena realised that the woman was not quite naked: around her neck was a black collar, and around each wrist was a black cuff. Each cuff was connected to the back of the collar by a length of chain.

The two women looked at each other. Olena felt that it was wrong to conceal her own body while the stranger was unable to cover hers, and lowered her hands. The stranger smiled again, and nodded as if she approved of what Olena was showing her.

'You're gorgeous,' the stranger said. 'What's your name?'

'I'm Olena.' She felt flustered; she hadn't intended to sound so proud. Tve been here only a few days. I've just been sent here. To the dungeon. I keep failing to be good, you see.'

The other woman laughed, but in a friendly way, as if she understood and sympathised. She was, Olena thought, quite the prettiest woman she had ever seen. She looked tired, but her blue eyes were sparkling and her lips looked as though they were permanently about to smile or laugh. Olena liked her instinctively and, although she knew it was probably wrong to have fun while she was being punished for her sinfulness, she could not help but be glad that the stranger had arrived to lift her mood.

'Well, you know who I am,' the stranger said with a rueful twist of her lips. Tt looks as though we're sharing this delightful accommodation, Olena.'

'I'm sorry,' Olena said. She wondered whether this woman was part of another of Master Robert's tests. 'I don't know who you are. And why are you in chains?'

The stranger stared at Olena. 'You didn't see me arrive here this morning? The dawn performance in the courtyard?'

'I was in my room,' Olena said, and could not suppress a sob. 'Not here. My nice bedroom.'

'Well, well,' was all the stranger said. With a jingling of chains, she started to walk round the cell, peering into all the corners and darting quizzical glances at Olena. The woman, Olena saw, had been punished: her pretty bottom was bright red, and criss-crossed with marks and lines.

'The chains,' the woman said, 'are to prevent me touching myself.'

'Touching yourself?' Olena asked, but as she said the words she suddenly realised to what the stranger must be referring. Olena had herself several times had to defeat an urge to put her hands between her thighs and seek out the source of the pleasurable sensations that crept through her when she thought, of Barat, or when she was made to display herself lewdly, or when she was punished.

'I'm not allowed to masturbate,' the woman stated. 'Are you?'

Olena was at a loss for words. The stranger's speech was unusually direct. T don't know,' she stammered. Tt would be a sin, surely?'

The woman started laughing; the tips of her breasts jiggled and her chains jangled. She stopped when she saw Olena's mortified expression. 'I'm sorry,' she said, still trying to control her mirth. 'Perhaps they've put me in here with you so that you can cheer me up. Although I think that's unlikely.'

She came to the bed and sat beside Olena. She rested her head on Olena's shoulder, and began to whisper so quietly that Olena could hardly hear the words.

'My name is Jem,' she said, 'but don't call me by name unless we can be sure we're not being overheard. I like you. You're very attractive. I hope we can be friends.' She moved her head and placed the lightest of kisses on Olena's neck.

'Overheard?' Olena whispered.

'Hush,' the stranger said. 'Let's get under the covers. We can talk there, if we whisper. And I'll tell you all about how wonderful it is to touch yourself.'

Five

Olena, half awake, was dreaming of being spanked. She recalled the two punishments she had received the previous day: lying across Nicole's lap and feeling Nicole's hand slapping her bottom, and then later parting her legs and pushing up her buttocks so that they could be whipped by Barat and Master Robert. She knew she had deserved both punishments, and more. She began to imagine what it would be like, to be spanked by Jem, who was asleep beside her.

But as she surfaced from sleep a little more, and realised that the lamps in the dungeon cell were dimly alight, she became aware that Jem wasn't asleep. Hidden under the covers, the elfin-faced slave was lying with one leg across Olena's, and with one hand in the gap between Olena's thighs. Her head was resting on Olena's arm, and she was kissing Olena's breast.

Olena remembered that she and Jem had gone to sleep kissing and cuddling each other. It had seemed to Olena a comparatively minor sin, and she had welcomed the attention and the gentle comfort of Jem's caresses. They had talked in whispers, between kisses, for what seemed like hours, exchanging confidences and secrets.

After a momentary pang of guilt - she knew she should not enjoy being touched and kissed in the way that Jem touched her and kissed her - Olena surrendered to her feelings of pleasure and comfort. She parted her legs a little, and sighed happily as she felt Jem's fingers slip further into the gap and begin to move gently but insistently there. She knew she was already wet, and that therefore she would have to be punished. She remembered again the cruel rhythm of two straps striking her buttocks, and moved her thighs even further apart.

Tt must be morning,' she said softly, lifting the bedclothes and looking down at Jem. The lamps are alight.'

Jem stopped nuzzling Olena's breast and looked up at her. Jem's tousled titian curls surrounded her pretty, heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes were alive with mischief. Olena felt a wave of affection for Jem - and she knew that it was utterly, irredeemably wrong to have such feelings for another woman.

'Good morning,' Jem whispered. 'You have such lovely big breasts, Olena. I could kiss them for ever. Would you like that?'

Olena blushed and nodded. 'But I'm afraid I'm very wet again. Already.'

'I know,' Jem said with a grin, and pressed her fingers into Olena's secret place.

Olena felt a wave of longing that almost made her panic. 'But that's wrong,' she protested. 'I ought to be punished. Are you going to spank my bottom?'

'You are quite amazing and wonderful,' Jem said. 'I'd love to spank you. But I'm supposed to be chained up, remember? I can't be seen with my hands free; I'd lose my wager immediately. But I'll play with you & little longer, instead.'

Olena was about to protest, but the movements of Jem's fingers rendered her speechless. She could only gasp as Jem's insistent digits wriggled further into her and Jem's lips encircled the nipple of her left breast. It was becoming very difficult for Olena to differentiate between the sensations that were beginning to bubble through her body; the way that Jem was alternately licking and sucking her nipple made it particularly difficult to concentrate. But, as Jem had promised the previous night, the little spot close to the top of Olena's secret places seemed once again to be at the centre of the galvanising tremors that were beginning to ripple through her.

Jem had told her that the 'little spot' was called a clitoris, and that it was the tip of a large organ, devoted to giving pleasurable feelings, that was buried inside Olena's body and that responded to all the touches and caresses and smacks that Olena found enjoyable.

Olena writhed in embarrassed frustration as Jem's fingers seemed to wander all around her secret parts without quite touching the exposed tip of her clitoris. She had been amazed, and frankly disbelieving, that a woman's body could contain an organ that served no purpose other than to encourage sinful feelings. But as they spoke in whispers under the covers Jem had guided Olena's fingers between Jem's legs, and Jem had caught her breath as Olena had detected and touched the firm nodule at the apex of the opening into Jem's private places.

Olena could no longer think coherently. Her secret place was running with her juices, and she was grateful that the bedclothes were covering her and her shame. Jem's fingers were pressing into her gently but with a persistent rhythm that was causing waves of pleasure to roll over her. And there seemed to be a tingling line, drawing ever tighter, from her tongue-flicked nipple to the little bud that Jem refused to touch.

Olena had felt these sensations before, and she knew they were wicked in themselves as well as being proof of her uncleanliness. Here, in the dark, soft comfort of the bed, she felt for the first time able to bear the guilt. And she sensed that the feelings were gathering and building towards some sort of resolution. Each wave of pleasure seemed to be lifting her higher, and although she was frightened she couldn't help wanting to be propelled onwards.

Jem's lips pulled away from her nipple, which suddenly felt cold and very hard. 'Imagine that I'm spanking you,' Jem whispered, and resumed licking the nipple.

Yes, Olena thought, I'm thoroughly bad and I need to be punished. She imagined herself kneeling before Jem and asking for a spanking; another wave of pleasure engulfed her, and took her higher than ever. She managed to order her thoughts, and saw herself kneeling on a chair, exposing herself for Jem's inspection; then her concentration was shattered again as another wave broke over her, and Jem's fingers thrust deeply, and Jem's thumb touched her clitoris, and moved away, and then touched again, and pressed gently.

And Olena cried out, and clenched her hands into fists, and tossed her head from side to side on the pillows as the waves of pleasure combined to form a continuous fountain of ecstasy that lifted her up and up, transporting her on to a celestial plane that contained nothing but joy. And then, still filled with joy, she began to float down again, to where she was lying in bed, held tight in Jem's embrace.

Jem said nothing but, under the covers, she stroked Olena's shoulders and her stomach until Olena's tremblings ceased.

Olena knew that she had just committed a serious sin: she made a resolution that she would confess to Barat and ask for punishment at the first opportunity. This did nothing to lessen the wonderful elation that she felt.

BOOK: Discipline of the Private House
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