opened
the peephole to the cell marked with the number five.
'I believe
you've already met this gentleman.'
Stephanie gazed through the door. Sitting on the floor in the
little cell was the man in the mask. He was naked except for the
same hard black leather pouch that the men had worn last night and
a thin chain around his neck bearing a metal disc engraved with the
name Clive . Around
one of his ankles a steel cuff was attached to a chain that was in
turn locked to a ring in the stone floor. Seeing the peephole open,
Clive stared at the door as though expecting something to
happen.
'The names are
entirely fictitious,' Devlin explained. 'Now the others...'
They went to
each cell in turn, opening the peepholes. Behind each Stephanie saw
the same sight: a man or a woman, chained by one ankle, the men in
the hard leather pouches, the women naked, all wearing a disc
bearing their Christian name around their necks. Each looked up at
the door as they saw the peephole open, some apprehensively, some
apathetically. Two of the men Stephanie recognised immediately.
They were the men Devlin had used last night, though they had not
worn identity discs then.
Stephanie's
astonishment was complete. Whatever she had imagined was happening
at the castle since she'd seen the man in the mask, it was not
this. For a moment she couldn't think which question to ask first.
She looked at Devlin. He was clearly excited, his eyes sparkling
and alert, at showing off his 'collection'.
'Do you want
to know more?' he asked. He would have been disappointed if she had
said no.
'Of
course...'
'These...' he
hesitated, trying to avoid using the word 'slaves', '...people were
all employees of my various companies. They were caught with their
hand in the till, so to speak. I offered them a simple choice. To
come here to the castle and perform certain services or to be
handed over to the police.'
'What
services?'
'During the
day, cleaning, gardening, domestic work...'
'And at
night?'
Devlin smiled
broadly. 'With a business the size of mine I have many friends,
acquaintances, colleagues. I can sympathise with people who have
special sexual needs, as I'm sure you understand. I have organised
this castle to meet their needs. They, in turn, can be very helpful
to me and to my business. Needless to say, because of the position
of my...' this time he didn't hesitate, '...slaves, I can guarantee
their complete discretion. None of them would dare breathe a word
of what goes on here.'
'How long do
you keep them here?'
'I try to make
the punishment fit the crime. Usually six months is the maximum.
After that exhaustion sets in.'
'So the man in
the mask? He's one of your slaves?'
'Yes and no.
He is a slave now certainly but that is his choice. That is his
fantasy, his need if you like. The mask is to protect his identity.
He's quite a well-known figure. Even my slaves might be tempted to
go to the tabloids...'
'How
intriguing.'
'Apparently
your treatment on the plane gave him considerable... eh...
pleasure. I think you can say he now owes me a very large favour.'
Devlin was grinning broadly. He turned to Bruno, who stood
impassively, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. Devlin
ordered him to bring champagne which he did at once, much to
Stephanie's relief. She definitely needed a drink after all this.
Sipping at the Dom Perignon from the tall crystal flute, she could
not help but feel a sense of excitement. It was like being in the
middle of a fascinating sexual dream except, quite clearly, this
was not a dream.
It was not
long since all this would have come as a shock to Stephanie. But
that was before she had embarked on a voyage of sexual discovery.
She had become fascinated with sex, bought books on every aspect of
sexual behaviour and found that a great deal of what she read had
turned her on. That had led her into the affair with Martin who had
given her experience of what she had read. It had turned her on
more than she would have believed
the peephole to the cell marked with the number five.
'I believe
you've already met this gentleman.'
Stephanie gazed through the door. Sitting on the floor in the
little cell was the man in the mask. He was naked except for the
same hard black leather pouch that the men had worn last night and
a thin chain around his neck bearing a metal disc engraved with the
name Clive . Around
one of his ankles a steel cuff was attached to a chain that was in
turn locked to a ring in the stone floor. Seeing the peephole open,
Clive stared at the door as though expecting something to
happen.
'The names are
entirely fictitious,' Devlin explained. 'Now the others...'
They went to
each cell in turn, opening the peepholes. Behind each Stephanie saw
the same sight: a man or a woman, chained by one ankle, the men in
the hard leather pouches, the women naked, all wearing a disc
bearing their Christian name around their necks. Each looked up at
the door as they saw the peephole open, some apprehensively, some
apathetically. Two of the men Stephanie recognised immediately.
They were the men Devlin had used last night, though they had not
worn identity discs then.
Stephanie's
astonishment was complete. Whatever she had imagined was happening
at the castle since she'd seen the man in the mask, it was not
this. For a moment she couldn't think which question to ask first.
She looked at Devlin. He was clearly excited, his eyes sparkling
and alert, at showing off his 'collection'.
'Do you want
to know more?' he asked. He would have been disappointed if she had
said no.
'Of
course...'
'These...' he
hesitated, trying to avoid using the word 'slaves', '...people were
all employees of my various companies. They were caught with their
hand in the till, so to speak. I offered them a simple choice. To
come here to the castle and perform certain services or to be
handed over to the police.'
'What
services?'
'During the
day, cleaning, gardening, domestic work...'
'And at
night?'
Devlin smiled
broadly. 'With a business the size of mine I have many friends,
acquaintances, colleagues. I can sympathise with people who have
special sexual needs, as I'm sure you understand. I have organised
this castle to meet their needs. They, in turn, can be very helpful
to me and to my business. Needless to say, because of the position
of my...' this time he didn't hesitate, '...slaves, I can guarantee
their complete discretion. None of them would dare breathe a word
of what goes on here.'
'How long do
you keep them here?'
'I try to make
the punishment fit the crime. Usually six months is the maximum.
After that exhaustion sets in.'
'So the man in
the mask? He's one of your slaves?'
'Yes and no.
He is a slave now certainly but that is his choice. That is his
fantasy, his need if you like. The mask is to protect his identity.
He's quite a well-known figure. Even my slaves might be tempted to
go to the tabloids...'
'How
intriguing.'
'Apparently
your treatment on the plane gave him considerable... eh...
pleasure. I think you can say he now owes me a very large favour.'
Devlin was grinning broadly. He turned to Bruno, who stood
impassively, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. Devlin
ordered him to bring champagne which he did at once, much to
Stephanie's relief. She definitely needed a drink after all this.
Sipping at the Dom Perignon from the tall crystal flute, she could
not help but feel a sense of excitement. It was like being in the
middle of a fascinating sexual dream except, quite clearly, this
was not a dream.
It was not
long since all this would have come as a shock to Stephanie. But
that was before she had embarked on a voyage of sexual discovery.
She had become fascinated with sex, bought books on every aspect of
sexual behaviour and found that a great deal of what she read had
turned her on. That had led her into the affair with Martin who had
given her experience of what she had read. It had turned her on
more than she would have believed
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