Bound For Pleasure at Blackthorne Read online

  Miss Ballard pointed her crop at the next girl. “Gail”

  The red-haired girl curtsied, flashing a shy smile. She repeated the welcome, gracing me with a glimpse of her silky Venus-nest.

  “Cody.”

  The shortest girl curtsied, a pale blonde whose curls caressed her shoulders as she moved. “I will gratify your every desire, Sir.” Her smile and half-wink made my already pounding heart leap into my throat.

  “Mandissa.”

  A pleasingly plump black girl with a smooth skin that glowed like mahogany velvet curtsied with a wink and a cheerful tilt of her head. Her walnut-brown hair was piled in great sweeping curls on her head Gibson-Girl style. She smiled, tugging her skirt up even higher than the first three girls. She twisted one thigh slightly over the other, making her triangle of black thatch pout an invitation. The gleaming whiteness of her teeth, framed by the sensuous cupid’s bow of her lips was the image of joyful sunrise after a night of gloom. When her lips moved, I felt their enchantment, hardly hearing her words. There was sincere desire, a wanton energy in her voice. “May I always pleasure you, sir.”

  “Next is our newest and youngest acquisition, Donella. We acquired her just a few days ago, on her eighteenth birthday.”

  The girl bowed her head, the lustrous ends of her page-boy, ebony hair stroking her neck. With a frightened blush coloring her girlish face, she grasped the hem of her skirt with trembling fingers. Her breasts began to quiver with her sobs as she struggled with her shame. She hesitated, then tugged down on her skirt as she curtsied. Her lips moved, but her weak breath carried no words.

  Aunt Caroline’s eyes widened in indignation, and she whispered fiercely into Miss Ballard’s ear.

  Miss Ballard nodded, scowling at the terrified young girl. “Donella, after Sir Richard dismisses us, you will report to Master Shawe in the stables immediately. I’ll join you there. Your disgraceful lack of submission needs correcting.”

  “But she didn’t...” I began.

  “Now Richard,” Aunt Caroline said, “The maids’ behavior is Miss Ballard’s responsibility. She is strict in her duties. Our family gives her and Crom complete jurisdiction to punish disobedience. Even you cannot stop whatever they may do to our girls. You’ll understand later why things are done in such severe ways. Be patient until you learn the reasons for our harsh rules.”

  I nodded and looked back at the last maid, an elfin-faced girl, her face and exposed shoulders decorated with hundreds of brown-sugar freckles. Her wide, blue-eyed expression was framed in a swirl of flame-red hair. I had to fight down the temptation to reach out and stroke those inviting paired mounds of soft flesh displayed on her chest. I glanced at my aunt. She was looking at the jutting bulge growing in my trousers. She nodded at Miss Ballard, and they both smiled.

  The riding crop aimed at the girl. “Fiona, from Ireland. She speaks passable English.”

  “Welcome, Sir. Pleasin’ you shall be my fir-r-rst desire.” She curtsied with a flash of love’s secret.

  “Excellent,” I replied. “I love the musical lilt of an Irish lass.”

  “Thank you, Sir-r Richard,” she said in a faint, girlish fashion. Miss Ballard nodded and stepped back into line.

  At the end of the line was a large-bodied, vacuous-eyed woman in white, her coarse hands dangling like a stricken puppet’s.

  Aunt Caroline lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. “This is Lara, our cook. Please show her kindness and patience. What she lacks in mental capacity, she redeems in her skill in the kitchen. She works hard and never complains.” Aunt Caroline glanced at me, a pleading look in her eyes.

  I wanted no tears at this first moment of meeting, so I spoke with soft compassion. “Good morning, Lara. I look forward to enjoying this evening’s dinner. I’m sure I will relish your cooking immensely.”

  An angled smile distorted her lips. She stuttered under her breath, then said in a deep voice, “...pleasure, sair.” Aunt Caroline exhaled with relief. “Now, Selby, would you show Sir Richard to his rooms. I’m sure he would like to freshen up and rest a bit before Chalmers gives him a tour of the estate.”

  “Very good, Mistress Cailean. If you’ll follow me, Sir Richard.” He led me through the archway and across the hall into the great room where a wide, banister stairway led to the upper floors.

  When we had climbed the carpeted steps to the first landing, I spoke to him. “Selby, when those maids curtsied before me, they grasped their skirts, lifting them slightly. Didn’t they realize I could see their...uh...?”

  “Pussies, Sir?” Selby turned to me with a cheerful smile and his eyes sparkled with a life I hadn’t expected in a man of his years. “Oh, Sir Richard,” he said with a sly wink, “The maids don’t wear anything under their skimpy skirts, and nothing under those peek-a-boo blouses. No panties, no bras—nothing!” He glanced behind us, then whispered, “It was your grandfather, Sir Robert, who gave that order.” His whisper was charged with hoarse emotion. “We men here were hoping you would continue to enforce the rules.”

  His grin was contagious. My face became infected with his pleasure and I blushed at the swelling evidence of my manhood. “Really? Nothing at all under those skimpy skirts?”

  Selby paused and grasped Richard’s arm. “If you order them, they will lift their skirts high and show you their pussies. That was another of Sir Robert’s rules.” He sighed happily. “I enjoy standing at the foot of these stairs and looking up between their legs as they go up to serve breakfast or make up the beds. I’ll never retire from this job.”

  “I assure you, Selby, I did not come here to overturn Blackthorne House. I am not accustomed to such explicit displays of public debauchery, but if that’s what my grandfather wanted, I shan’t change it. Your pleasures will not be interrupted.”

  He released my arm and clasped his hands together, moving them with a self-handshake. “Thank you, Sir Richard. Your kindness will surely be rewarded by the staff.” They continued up the stairs.

  At the second landing he led me to the right, down a balustrade gallery past bedroom doors. At the end, angled across the gallery, was the curving stone wall of the north-west tower. In the center was a large, ornately carved oaken door.

  “Your room, Sir Richard.” Selby produced a silver key and unlocked it. Pushing it open, he handed me the key and I stepped inside.

  “Splendid!” I said. “Such a large bed. Do I need so much space?”

  “For when you desire to be entertained,” Selby replied. “There is room enough for you and two or three maids, when you want them.” He smiled at the puzzlement in my eyes. “The female servants are trained to pleasure you and your guests at any time and in any way you desire.” When I still didn’t speak, he backed out the door with a final statement. “No man is ever refused the intimate services of a lovely girl at Blackthorne.” His grin beamed with a sly wink. “Not even me!” He closed the door and I was alone.

  On the sideboard I found a water pitcher in a basin. Pouring some water into the basin, I splashed it on my face. “That’s better,” I said. There was a glass of lemonade sitting on the night stand. I sat on the bed and drank it greedily. “Soft,” I whispered, feeling the mattress. Stretching out, I tested the pillows with the back of my head. They were scented with lavender. My fingers stroked the thick wooden posts rising to the scarlet canopy overhead. There was a clink of metal.

  “What’s this, then?” I fingered the iron rings bolted to the posts. A pattern was beginning to form in my head; that Blackthorne was a maze of places where some animal...or some person, could be fettered.

  Surely not for me. Then whom? The maids! I raised my head and studied the swelling erection straining to pop out of my trousers. I could feel this place reeking with a mysterious power to release carnal desire, to seize control of my body. I studied the posts at the foot of the huge bed. Matching rings were bolted to them, too.

  I lay back and sighed with surrender, content to let my questions wait. My eyes closed and I dozed, seeing
in my dream the images of the long trip from Sireford University to Blackthorne, hearing the incessant chatter of Aunt Caroline reciting my new responsibilities and my duty to the family.

  Then the dream shifted to my bedroom. I saw myself lying naked, spread-eagled on my back. I felt the pain in my wrists and ankles. They were stretched brutally tight and chained to the bedposts. All six maids surrounded me, frolicking in my bed. Each in turn, straddled my chest, slowly pulling up their little skirts to reveal pretty, fluffy-haired pussies. I struggled helplessly as they pressed their abundant breasts into my face, dragging them across my lips.

  Then, three on each side of me, their industrious, fiery fingers stroked the inside of my thighs and fondled my balls and upraised cock. They giggled and cooed as they felt the mounting excitement quaking in my belly. With girlish cries of delight and gloating they bounced on the bed in rhythm to my spurting fountain of lust.

  I woke with a start. What was that sound? I sprang out of the bed and hurried to one of the tall, narrow windows looking down on the back lawn. Through the iron bars I spied the cobalt blue lake off to the left, its churning salt-seawater frosted with whitecaps. In the near distance, through the clustered trees, was a thatch-roofed stable. What I saw next made me jerk forward, gripping windowsill to steady myself.

  The young dark-haired maid, Donella, ran out of the cottage. She was totally naked. Her hands were bound together, tied up behind her with a rope looped around her neck. Her breasts bounced wildly and I could hear her screaming. A man ran out after her, catching her by the hair and dragging her back. A woman who appeared to be Miss Ballard was standing in the doorway. They pulled her back inside and slammed the heavy, iron-barred door. Her panic-stricken face pressed against the door window’s bars while she shrieked and shook her head violently. They wrenched her away from the window, and she disappeared, pulled back into the darkness.

  A knock on my bedroom door startled me, and I whirled around.

  “Excuse me, Sir Richard.” It was Chalmers, the estate manager. “If it pleases you, I’m prepared to give you a tour of Blackthorne.” His voice was polite, but strong, with no hint of servility.

  “Yes, I’m quite ready and anxious to see everything. I have noticed a number of interesting peculiarities, and I look forward to you clearing up these matters.”

  “I assure you, there is much at Blackthorne that is a mystery kept secret, Sir Richard. But I will gladly answer where I may.”

  We descended the stairs and Chalmers led me through the dim, confusing labyrinth of rooms and hallways leading to the rear entrance. We passed through the kitchen last, and there our cook, Lara, was singing lustily and off key. It was an old Gaelic ballad;

  “This world is a City full of long streets,

  And death is a merchant that every man meets.

  If life were a thing that money could buy,

  The poor could not live, and the rich would not die.

  So live For yer pleasure while the sun smites yer face,

  ‘an don’t give a thought for some other one’s place.

  We’ll never find pleasure by groveling, sure,

  So pull off my clothes and love me some more.”

  I smiled and nodded as we passed the clatter of pots on her stove. Both Chalmers and I stepped through the door and out into the mid-morning air.

  “It’s many a furlong to the far fence, so we will ride. The stable is this way.” Chalmers led me off to the right, downwind from the manor house. He pointed to the low stone wall to the left. “Mind the cliff by the bay over there. It’s a steep tumble for the unwary.”

  “Is that the stables?” I asked, pointing through the trees.

  “Yes. Would you like to see it?”

  “In the brief moment before you knocked at my door, I was looking at it through my window. I saw one of the maids, a young girl stripped naked, dash out the door. Her arms were tied up behind her and she was being chased by a man. The man caught her and dragged the poor girl back inside the stables. I’d like to know what they are doing to her.”

  Chalmers let a smile play under his mustache. “I really couldn’t say, Sir Richard. Perhaps Shawe will give you a demonstration. Here are the stables.”

  “There was an older woman there, too. I’m sure it was Miss Ballard.”

  “We have some of the finest horses in the county,” Chalmers continued. “Farley, the groom, takes excellent care of them.”

  I grasped the fact that Chalmers was refusing to respond to my description, so I decided to let the matter rest until I could speak with Shawe.

  “Farley!” Chalmers called out. “Sir Richard and I each require a saddled horse. Are they ready.”

  “Coming, Sir.” The iron-barred door of a far stall swung open, and a short, chubby, red-faced man bounded out with an expansive grin. He appeared completely at ease, even though he was stuffing his dripping cock back into the front of his trousers. The barred door of the stall was open wide. I could see a bit of the straw-strewn floor, and the slim, bare legs of a barefoot girl lying on the straw. What appeared to be dark metal shackles were locked around her ankles, with an attached chain running to a ringbolt in a post. The fresh bruises on her thighs were plainly visible. I felt the tingle awaken in my own cock, but Chalmers turned and led me in the opposite direction.

  Farley touched the forelock of red hair dangling in his intense blue eyes. “G’day, Sir Richard. It’s a bonnie day for a gallop.” From the spring in his step, I guessed that Farley was blessed with a clockwork energy that never ran down.

  “Yes, Mr. Chalmers, I got your message, sir.” He led them around a corner. “Here they are, two horses fit for lairds of the realm.” He patted the chestnut bay. “Gentle, but eager to run.” He looked up at me. “May I help you up, sir?”

  “No, thank you, Farley. I have been riding since before my first year at school.” I pressed my toe into the stirrup and swung my other leg up and over with the grace of a ballerina.

  Chalmers mounted his black stallion, and we trotted out into a meadow beyond the trees that stretched out far northward. I smiled as I smelled the salt sea in the air.

  “I’ll take the liberty of giving you the long tour,” Chalmers said. “I’m sure you’re eager to see everything.”

  “But I’m not seeing everything, Chalmers. There’s a lot of activity going on here that’s being hidden from me. Did you notice that girl in the farthest stall. She was chained to a post. And I’m sure she was naked.”

  “No, I didn’t notice, but it’s probably true. Farley is quite fond of playing games with pretty girls.” He leaned toward me, “We all are, aren’t you?”

  I nodded with a faint smile. “I think I would enjoy spending some time in that stall with her, too”

  “Perhaps later, Sir Richard.” He spurred his horse and I did my best to keep up.

  “We’ll ride to the north arm of the bay, first,” Chalmers called out over his shoulder.

  Off to the left was a broad meadow with gentle green hills rolling up and down. A scattering of Black-spotted cattle grazed in the distance. A half-dozen bulls were chasing the young heifers with lust in their snorts. There were occasional spinneys, clumps of trees, and all was surrounded by a shallow dike. The eastern horizon was etched with pale blue-gray heights of the midlands. Far to my left the meadow rose up to an abrupt edge, bordered by the tall, wide hedge of sinister Blackthorn. My nose had already told me the restless sea lay beyond. We rode on a few miles farther toward a somber line of gigantic trees across the northern heath.

  “There it is,” Chalmers shouted above the wind, “inside that forest.”

  “What’s under that brown conical roof I see poking above the distant trees?”

  “That’s a tall stone tower where our warder lives. We’re headed for it.”

  We slowed our horses to a walk as we passed under the edge of the forest, following a winding trail. A quarter of a mile farther I saw a hidden clearing through the thinning trees. About fifty yards bef
ore we reached the clearing, we came to a round tower of two stories, made of drab gray stone. Its dark red-brown roof and bars at the windows gave it the air of a brutal finger pointing at the open sky.

  “Gregor,” Chalmers called out. “Gregor, are you there?”

  A powerful, bald-headed black man opened the iron-studded door and stepped out. He wore a sulky scowl on his bearded face, and was naked to the waist. His ebony head and torso gleamed in the sun, like it had been oiled. The muscles in his arms and chest rippled as he moved. He wore nothing more than loose black trousers, cut off just below the knees. He left his fly unbuttoned with his long, prominent cock bulging out, swaying in the sunlight. I stared at it. It was as thick as my own wrist. The tops of Gregor’s brown boots were turned down, exposing most of his thick, powerful legs. He carried a coiled, leather-braided whip in his left hand, and a large-bore shotgun in his right.

  “Who’s this,” he demanded in a rumbling voice.

  “This is Sir Richard, the new Laird of Blackthorne.”

  His wide face brightened, and he leaned the shotgun against the door and touched his forehead. “Welcome, Sir Richard. I hope that things will go better for me now.”

  “Gregor guards the northern border of your estate. He’s a brave and loyal man,” Chalmers said. He turned back to Gregor, “What’s the problem here?”

  Gregor twisted the whip in his hands, stroking it against his coal-black cock. “I was promised they’d send a girl from the house to pleasure me today. It’s almost noon, and no one came.”

  “It’s barely eleven o’clock, Gregor. Be patient, one of the maids is being disciplined. I’m sure she will sent to service you within the hour.”

  Chalmers motioned to me, “Come, there’s something in the clearing that will interest you.” The horses trotted out into the sunshine. “I know you studied history and folklore at the university.” He pointed into the clearing. “What do you think of that?”