Ecstasy in the Castle Of Death

'I must take you to your rooms now, it is almost six, and I have to help you prepare for dinner. The Count and Countess are very formal, you know.'

'But we have only jeans and... '

'Do not worry, Katya will have provided all the clothes you need.'

I looked at Jane, whose mouth was wide open, but neither of us spoke, and allowed ourselves to be led along well-lit corridors and shown into bedrooms, one at each side of a passageway.

Mine was incredibly spacious, with a four-poster bed, and a window overlooking vast pine forests. Anca showed me a door beside the bed which led by way of a closet to an en-suite bathroom. The closet was lined with mirrored wardrobes. She slid open a door and I saw a rack of clothes that took my breath away. There were long gowns in silk and velvet, cocktail dresses - just about everything I had never had the money to buy.

'There is underwear in the drawers over there, and shoes underneath,' she said, pointing to the other side, 'And costume jewellery in your bedside cabinet.' I looked at the 'other side' and found a rail with skirts and blouses above the drawers she had mentioned.

Before I could say anything, Anca was repeating her demonstration across the passageway for Jane, then she said, for both of our benefits, 'You will be expected to wear long dresses for dinner, of course.'

'Of course,' I replied, sardonically, raising a giggle from Jane, as Anca's heels clicked off down the corridor.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that I still had almost two hours to go before dinnertime, so I took a long soak in the shower, and washed and dried my hair, then slipped on a towelling robe I found behind the bathroom door. I decided to choose a gown, and immediately had a shock. Every one I took off the rack, apart from looking to be approximately my size, was incredibly revealing. They either had deep plunging necklines, were backless, or had some sort of cut-out or transparent panel. Another I found might have doubled as a nightie, being of a thin, pink, silky material, with spaghetti straps. I padded across the corridor and knocked on Jane's door.

'Are the gowns in your closet like the ones in mine?' I wanted to know.

'If you mean tarty, yes,' she said, 'I don't think there's anything I can wear there.'

'Well,' I said, 'I suppose we've got to go along with them - we're their guests, after all.'

I went back and finally settled on a backless, white silk halter-neck creation, very long, so that it trailed on the floor, even after I had slipped on a pair of excruciatingly high stilettos. When I looked over my shoulder into the mirror, I could just see the waistband of my panties, so I thought they rather spoiled the picture, and slipped them off, so that I was quite naked under the soft silk - a not altogether unpleasant sensation. I found a gold plated amulet for an upper arm, and a collection of matching bangles for the other wrist, and stuck in some long gold pendant ear-rings before I applied a little light make-up, and brushed out my long hair. Not half bad, Julie, I thought, then went to see how my Aussie friend was doing.

I was amazed. She was transformed. Clad in black velvet with long sleeves, she looked quite demure, until she turned side-on to me, and I saw that the gown had a gap from armpit to floor about two inches wide, crossed by a narrow strap just below her armpit, another at her waist, and another at knee-level. She too was clearly unable to wear anything under the gown. With her long blond hair brushed into a heavy mane, she was quite stunning.

By now it was time to go down and brave the dining room. Unaccustomed to our heels, and trying hard not to trip over our gowns, we made our way to the great hall, where quite a gathering awaited us, to my further surprise.

The Countess was stood at one end of the table, in a shimmering gold gown, showing ample cleavage, adorned with a necklace of rubies that, if real, must have been worth tens of thousands. She was talking with Goran, dressed in an immaculate tux. At the opposite end of the huge table was the imposing figure of a man in his fifties, with greying, wavy hair, tall, with very broad shoulders, talking to Anca, dressed in a black fishnet sheath, under which she wore only a pair of scarlet panties and a matching platform bra, her nipples perched just on top of its black lace fringe. Beside the table were two more guys in evening dress, and four girls, all gorgeous, in revealing dresses. One girl's blue gown had a completely transparent bodice, revealing small, pert breasts, while another wore a grey silk backless gown with a top so loose that any movement revealed her well-formed breasts completely.

We were introduced, first of all to Count Radiescu, who bowed gravely and kissed our hands, then to the two guys, one who was in charge of the acting school, and who was called Grigor, and the other, whose job wasn't really clear to me, and I thought his name was Ivan. The girls all seemed to be students, and we were told that they were invited to dine on a rota system. But then another woman entered, and the Countess introduced her as Danica, another assistant. Another dark beauty, she was clad in a skin-tight peach-coloured translucent sheath, which gave tantalising glimpses of apparent nakedness, and was, in fact, so tight that she could scarcely walk.

We were directed to a prearranged seating plan, and sat down to eat. I found myself between Grigor and Danica, whilst Jane was between Goran and one of the young actresses. As the meal progressed, sexual tension seemed to rise, and while I watched Jane blushing as she was obviously being caressed by Goran under the table, I felt a hand on my knee, though not that of Grigor on my right, but the smooth touch of Danica's hand, sliding ever so gently up my thigh, through the silk of my gown. When I turned to look at her, she pushed her tongue out between rows of white teeth, just a fraction, in an unmistakeable gesture of desire. I had experimented with a room-mate at college, but never felt this kind of need. Christ! What was it about the atmosphere of this place? The deliberately provocative gowns we were all wearing got me wondering what was going on. I was soon to find out more.

Eventually, the table was cleared, and we all stood up to take coffee from a side table.

The Count came towards me, and swept Jane and myself to one side imperiously.

'I believe you want to learn about the ancient legends surrounding my family?' he said in a resonant, deep voice. Without waiting for a reply, he went on, 'I have just the person to help you.' He turned away. 'Danica, come here!'

The brunette minced over in her tight sheath. 'Yes, sir!'

'Please spend the next couple of days with our two guests, and tell them all they want to know. You may show them the dungeons, too.' Then, as an afterthought, he said, in Romanian, 'They are very attractive girls. Maybe they can be persuaded to stay. They could well plug some of the gaps created by our wastage, no?'

She did an awkward curtsy in her ultra-tight skirt, and turning to me, said, 'It will be a pleasure.' The Count moved away to talk to someone else.

Danica took my hand in hers and said very quietly, in Romanian, 'As it happens, my room is two doors down from yours - the one with a butterfly picture.'

'What did she say?' demanded Jane.

'Oh, nothing important,' I told her, but she gave me a knowing look.

When people started drifting off, I picked up my skirt and made for my room. Jane followed suit. I sat on my bed for a few moments to collect my thoughts. It was obvious that Danica wanted to have sex with me. Was that what I wanted? I thought so, yes - she was amazingly sexy, and more than anything, I wanted to know what the Count had meant by us 'plugging gaps created by wastage.' What wastage? What was going on? Most of all, was I really a Lesbian? Well, no, not really. So why did she attract me so much? With a sigh, I stopped thinking, and left my room. As I did so, I felt sure I saw a dark shadow slipping into Jane's room across the corridor. I grinned, and walked down the corridor to the door with the butterfly painted on it.

Danica had been waiting for my knock. She had changed out of the skin-tight sheath, and now wore a long peach silk negligee, casually fastened with a ribbon, so that it fell open as she kissed me on each cheek, and I had a clear view of tiny breasts, hardly more than mounds, but surmounted by impressive aureola, nipples poking out at the silk of her negligee. She took my hand, without a word, and led me to her bed, identical to my own, and covered with a satin bedspread. Danica flipped open the bow that tied the ribbon, and her negligee fell open as she lay back on the bed, revealing a body so slim that her ribs were clearly visible, her skin almost translucent. Her pubes were completely clean-shaven, so that her body was almost that of an adolescent, but the knowing look on her face belied that, as she pulled me towards her, still wearing my silk gown.

Before I could say anything, her lips were clamped upon mine, her tongue driven hard into my mouth, and I thought she tasted wonderful, hardly noticing as she released the knot of my halter-neck and had me naked down to the waist. Her attention transferred to my breasts and she actually bit my nipples - a new sensation which sent a message rippling though to my very core. Eagerly then, she pushed my gown down over my hips, so that she could trace my belly with her teasing tongue, which found its way to my clit. I could tell she had done this sort of thing before. Soon, she was parting my pussy-lips with delicate fingers, and lapping the whole length of my wet slit with that lovely tongue - and it was only then that I realised that she wore a tiny diamond stud near its tip, which was surely designed to heighten the pleasure of the receiver.

But I have never been selfish in matters sexual, and breathed, 'Wait!' Then moved around so that I could gain access to Danica's own pussy. Apart from a brief and unsatisfactory effort in a college dormitory, I had never before touched another girl, but the Romanian girl's cunt was sopping wet, fragrant and musky, and I plunged my tongue deep within her, causing her to moan with pleasure, and do something for which I was quite unprepared. She rammed a long forefinger hard up my virgin arsehole. Without delay, I simply came! I screamed her name and she said, 'Shush, you'll wake the whole castle, darling - but I know, I know - I came too.'

Danica lay back and smoked a cigarette, and I asked her about the 'wastage' thing.

'Oh,' she said, 'The sort of films they make here, it's ineviatable that a few fall by the wayside.'

I tried to quiz her further, but she wasn't going to say any more, so eventually I went back to my own room and slept for a solid nine hours. I must have been exhausted.

Next morning, after a fairly late breakfast, we took notebooks to the library and sat with Danica, who made no reference to the night before, but started to tell us all about the centuries-old legend of the Radiescus, and how young virgins were spirited away from the villages and never seen nor heard of again. All fascinating stuff. She also told us about the demand for films that their teams were trying to meet.

'Nobody has ever made a truly erotic film since "O" and "The Image",' she said, 'And they were tame stuff really, back then, so our teams, under the Count's management, are looking to produce something different, more realistic.

Over lunch, when Danica had gone to attend to some other business, I asked Jane how her night had gone. She lowered her lashes, 'Okay,' she said.

'Is that all? Just okay?'

In a very little voice, she said, 'You'll be mad at me.'

'Why? Because you spent the night with Goran?'

'How did you know?'

'I guessed, after seeing what he was up to under the table. And I've nothing to be mad about. I had a great time too!'

With... with... '

'With Danica, yes,' I said, 'And don't look so shocked.'

'I... I don't know if I'm shocked or envious.'

At that moment Danica returned. I was still looking quizzically at Jane, when Danica said, 'The Count wants me to show you around the dungeons.'

I took in what she had said. 'The Count wants us to see the dungeons?'

'Yes - he was impressed by the two of you last night, and thinks you may well be what he is looking for. He needs new girls for films that are planned.'

I began to catch on. 'And you and Goran...?'

She had the good grace to look sheepish, but didn't reply. I knew they had been testing us out for roles. But she made no reply, simply saying, with a disparaging glance at the jeans and tees we had automatically put on, 'You really ought to dress a bit better, if you don't mind me saying so - there are lots of clothes in your rooms.'

Before I had chance to reply she had summoned Katya and asked her, in Romanian, to go and prepare some clothes for us, while we had coffee.

'What did she say?' asked Jane, and when I told her, she looked about to make some comment, but thought better of it.

When I got to my room, I found a white belted broderie anglaise dress laid there for me, together with a white satin suspender belt and white lace-top stockings, and white silk panties. A pair of strappy stiletto sandals was beside the bed. When I put the dress on I had to admit it looked good, mid-thigh-length, the top dipping low at the back so I could have worn no bra even had I needed one.

Jane came in and gave me a twirl in a navy pleated miniskirt and cream silk blouse. She too had on some very high heels, and I told her she looked great. We went to meet Danica for our tour.

She had changed too, from the morning's severe skirt-suit, she was now wearing a very tight knitted green minidress. I sneaked a look at her as she told us about the dungeons, and would have sworn I could see her dark nipples poking out through the weave of her dress. I wondered briefly if and when I should get to have sex with her again. She caught my look, and I think I blushed.

Danica led us down interminable corridors, down stone staircases that were tough going in our heels, and out into a cold stone-walled space, lit by torches held in sconces at intervals.

'The first of the dungeons,' she announced, 'This is where prisoners were assembled.'

She used a huge key to open a door. It was, I was grateful to discover, warmer beyond. But the warmth was an illusion. Again, torches lit the dungeon, but it was furnished with all kinds of instruments of torture I recognised from my medieval studies. Rings were set into the walls and ceiling, with chains hanging from them, manacles at their extemities. There was a huge wooden rack, with great rachet-wheels and pulleys to stretch the poor victim and pull him - or her - apart, there was a bed, which on closer inspection, was covered with sharp spikes, about half an inch long. I could scarcely imagine the agony that would give, but nothing compared to the 'iron maiden,' which stood in one corner, a terrible device, into which a victim was placed, and, when closed, steel spikes were driven straight into the body at various points, which could be adjusted to suit the torturer's whim. There was also a big iron brazier, with irons propped up in it, obviously once used to brand a victim.

Racks on the walls held a fiendish variety of whips, floggers, canes and other such instruments. I looked about me with wonder.

'Feel free to have a good look around,' said Danica.

'There's ash in the brazier,' said Jane, 'Hasn't anybody ever cleaned it out in all these years?'

But I was intrigued with the spike-table. It had a metallic smell which alerted my keen senses. Could that be blood? After centuries? Surely it was my overwrought imagination. I turned around to see Danica watching me, a slightly odd expression on her face.

'Wastage?' I asked her, in Romanian, 'Is there more I should know?'

At that moment, the door opened with a great creaking noise, and in walked none other than Count Radiescu himself. He had an impressive presence, dressed formally in a beautifully-tailored suit with a sombre tie. His shoes were polished to a glittering shine.

'You ask about wastage,' he said, in English, with only a slight accent, and a fine, deep baritone voice, 'Yes, there are young ladies who do not come up to our standards, and must be dismissed, as you ask.' He looked at us with a penetrating gaze, first at Jane, then at myself. After what seemed like a long pause, he went on, 'We have a training regime which is extremely strict - sometimes painful - because of the type of films we make, and some... fall by the wayside. I see before me two young ladies who have the physical attributes we seek. Please let Danica know if you are prepared to undergo the training, when she has explained a little to you.' With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

We both pestered Danica for some idea of what this 'training' would consist of, as we walked back along the dim corridors.

When she sat us down with a glass of local plum brandy, which burnt the back of my throat, she said, as if she were describing a driving lesson, 'The films we make are for a special audience - people with... er... different tastes. And realism is everything. You will therefore need to be able to satisfy us that you can withstand pain.'

'Pain?' I asked, 'What kind of pain?'

'Severe pain, darling,' she said, 'If you agree to stay, you will be whipped, punished to the limit of endurance. Many find they are unable to remain, and, if they have contracted to do so, this presents us with a problem... '

'Wastage?' I said quietly. Danica's eyelids were cast down, but she made no comment.

After a while she said, 'Go and rest, then prepare yourselves for dinner. The Count would like to hear whether or not you will consent to be trained this evening. Now go.'

I was surprised to find that I was tired, and stripped, then slipped between the cool sheets, and fell immediately asleep, to be awoken a couple of hours later by a knock on the door. It was Katya.

'I have come to help you dress for dinner,' she said, curtsying sweetly. I could get used to this, I thought.

'Would you like me to help you shower?' she asked, as I slipped on a robe and made for the bathroom, which was steamy, so that I knew Jane had already used it.

I slipped out of my robe while Katya adjusted the jets to a comfortable temperature, but when I stepped into the cubicle and looked for the gel, she was behind me, and I realised that she too was naked, with me in the cubicle, her hands full of soapy gel. For the first time since my mother had bathed me when I was a tiny tot, I was being soaped all over by a pair of knowing, caring hands. I surrendered to her ministrations, letting her hands play over my breasts, down across my flat stomach, and linger around my crack, drawing repeated gasps from me as she eased my pussy lips apart, and drew her long-nailed fingers the length of my slit, just easing ever so slightly into the very portals of my anus. I came, right there in the shower, my knees weakening with the force of my climax.

'Do I please Mistress Julie?' asked Katya. She knew she had, and I wondered if she had done the same for Jane. Recovering a little, I let her soap me all over, rinse me off with delicious jets of hot water, and wrap me in a warm, fluffy towel.

Whilst I dried my hair, Katya rattled around in my closet, sorting through gowns, and when I returned to my bedroom, she had laid out what she had selected.

'I'll need bra and panties with that!' I said, as I picked up the whisper-thin, long white transparent gown.

She handed me two tiny shreds of underwear. The bra was an exquisite white lace half-bra, which was obviously designed to leave my nipples free, whilst the tiny panties were almost as transparent as the gown, and had red ribbon bow-ties at each side. When I slipped the loose-fitting gown over my head, it fell with a silky swish to the floor. It had long, wide sleeves, was deeply cut at the back, but the plain front allowed my barely-covered breasts to be seen clearly. I found that the ribbon-ties on the panties coincided with lace-trimmed slits at my flanks, so that the bows could be flipped open without even lifting the skirt.