Castle Slave Ep. 05: Scarlet Woman

His sudden astonishment made me smile. "Belinda?" he said uncertainly.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"What -" he said. "What -" again.

"Revolution, Jack. Today we end the aristocracy. Go tell your sisters."

*

Although the Castle had rules that forbade harming the Rose Girls, it was perfectly acceptable to hurt them so long as there was no permanent marking or damage. Also, the only punishment meted out to aristos that crossed this line was to have their privileges revoked for a year, so it wasn't uncommon to see a Rose Girl in bandages. Sadly, too often in such cases the Rose Girl in question lost any enthusiasm for harlotry, and in struggling against this fate earned a one-way ticket to the dungeon.

Lady Evelyn had a real fetish for spanking. She had an assortment of leather paddles that she would apply with relish until the cheeks and thighs presented to her were all aglow and the slave they belonged to a mess of tears - and if the tears flowed too easily, she would be furious.

Unlike Lady Elizabeth, Lady Evelyn had no favourites. She didn't care who was delivered to her room, though she prefered those of us with paler skin tones because the blush she gave our cheeks was much more vivid.

I found myself in her quarters on two occasions, the first when I had been a Rose Girl for only a few months and was completely unprepared. "Everything off," she instructed as soon as I entered. "Kneel at the edge of the bed."

I did as asked, watching her as best I could from the corners of my eyes. I had been spanked before, and whipped playfully, but Lady Evelyn's paddle threatened something much more severe.

She paced back and forth, inspecting me, until without warning she smacked it across my thighs.The surprise of it, as much as the pain, forced a scream from me. "Quiet!" she barked, and smacked me across the cheeks. This time I permitted myself only a gasp.

The paddle's sting echoed in my flesh like a roasting fire, an oddly pleasant sensation in contrast to ferocity of the paddle itself, a pain I could not accustom myself to. Indeed, with each strike, against my increasingly sensitive skin, my will to endure it slipped another notch. By the sixth or seventh I was in tears and flinching away from the descending paddle.

Such was her rage that she tied me to her bed and paddled me mercilessly. I could barely walk afterwards; I certainly couldn't sit.

The second occasion was much later, and was after the incident in the dungeon that had left me scarred on my arms and legs. Lady Evelyn was intrigued by my scars, running her fingertips across them. "I know who did this to you," she murmured. "Did you enjoy her touch? Shall I mark you as she did?"

"No, Lady Evelyn." I tried to say it calmly, but my voice trembled.

She chuckled. "I prefer my flesh unmarked. A fresh canvas, so to speak."

As before, she'd ordered me to strip as soon as I entered her chamber. This time she bound my wrists with leather cuffs and hooked them to a chain above my head. As if I weren't already stretched vertically more than was comfortable, she parted my legs and cuffed my ankles to a spreader bar, so that only my toes touched the floor.

I didn't dare complain, nor did I dare to cry as her paddle smacked my cheeks and thighs. I was more used to pain at this point, and I understood that tears would only make it worse for me.

Ten, twenty, thirty smacks I counted, the paddle's sharp sting almost unendurable, my backside afire. "You've done well," she said, and ran her fingers over my belt. "You're clearly enjoying this as much as I." She thrust fingers, soaked with the evidence of my arousal, into my mouth and I sucked them obediently clean. "I have something a little slut like you will enjoy for sure."

Lady Evelyn took something from a drawer behind me - I couldn't see what she was doing. Then she was behind me, pushing a gel-slick something, a thick plug, up my ass. I didn't mind that.

I did mind the strong vibrations that suddenly coursed through my body as she switched it on. I could barely stand as it was, and the vibrating plug had me twitching uncontrollably as I dangled painfully from my wrists.

She grabbed hold of my breasts to steady them and sucked harshly on my nipples to ensure they were properly swollen and receptive for her, then selected a long, slender paddle and smacked me across those sensitive tips.

I screamed for her. "That's right," she said, and smacked me again, and again, alternating left and right, turning my breasts as rosy as my thighs and cheeks while tears flowed from my eyes.

The worst thing about it all, quite apart from the Queen's cunt being so wet my thighs were glistening, is that I had to put my corset on afterwards. As I walked back to my room, I was in agony...

*

Ninety-nine percent of humanity's wealth was held by one percent of its population, and was concentrated into eight hundred and seventy-three large landholding estates. The heads of these estates formed the aristocracy, and they all gathered together from around the world, four times a year, at the Grand Balls at the Castle. They would usually fly in to the nearby airfield and a limousine service would bring them up to the Castle.

Camera crews and reporters would set up in the courtyard before the main entrance to the Royal Court, and also inside the ornate lobby, from which you could catch glimpses of the ballroom. They saw nothing of the true workings of the Castle. Certainly they saw nothing of the dungeon.

The sudden emergence of red-garbed, corseted men and women, many of them scarred and otherwise deformed, was a macabre and sensational event. I sent most of my fragile army to guard the many ways in and out of the Royal Court, but some I brought over to the cameras. "Tell your stories," I told them. "Let the world know what happens here."

I alone entered the ballroom, sending a shockwave through the assemblage. Faces all turned to gape at me. The music fell silent.

On her throne, the Queen smiled. "Magnificent," she whispered in my head, and then she closed her eyes. A presence that I hadn't been consciously aware of was abruptly gone, and I heard cries of anguish from the Servants of the Court.

"The Queen is dead," I said, my voice loud. "Judgement Day is here."

Guns were not permitted in the Royal Court, but there were always a few to be glimpsed. Several now appeared from wherever they had been concealed, and more than one ceremonial sword whispered poisonously from its scabbard.

"I know you," Lady Evelyn hissed, "you vile, murdering -" She struggled to find a word to describe me that could even begin to express her hatred. The pearl-handled pistol she aimed at me looked as deadly as it was delicate. "Slut!"

Even as she pulled the trigger, the room fell dark. I was growing adept at these manipulations. The bullet passed through empty air, and before she could fire again my hand was at her neck, my claws slicing into her flesh.

The floor of the ballroom was slick with blood by the time the screaming stopped.

*

I joined Mariella atop the battlements. "The Rose Girls and Blue Belles are fleeing the Castle," she said. Looking down, I could see the colourful figures amidst the Brownmen and Greenmen and, here and there, the military. The whole of the Outer Castle seemed to be in chaos, and no wonder. The televisions were full of the news of the Queen's death and the slaughter of the aristocracy.

"So should you," I said.

"They will kill us all for what you did tonight."

I snorted. "I'm not finished yet. Trust me, soon they will all be so worried about me that they won't think to look for you."

Mariella nodded and gave me a shrewd look. "The Queen made a monster of you."

"That she did."

"Yes, but a magnificent one."

I laughed, and kissed her. "Take care, Mariella," I said, and leapt off the battlements. I needed to get my scarlet brothers and sisters to safety before the hunters came looking for us.