Emma's Endurance Ch. 08

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Emma discovers The Castle and what happens there.
1.9k words
4.23
53.8k
3

Part 8 of the 20 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 06/11/2011
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The Castle

The small private jet landed and taxied for a few minutes. Emma, who had never felt so alone in her whole life, walked down the steps and saw that there was a large Mercedes waiting for her.

To Emma's surprise, the car didn't leave the airport, but stopped at a large hangar and she was helped out and stood, shivering slightly in cool air of the early morning.

The driver, giving Emma the ages-old up then down again look, told her to please wait a few minutes. He tried to start a conversation but Emma put up the hood of her robe and looked at the ground, folding her arms in front of her.

After some long minutes, Emma heard a helicopter approaching. 'Zis ees for you, my lady' said the chauffeur and with some nervousness, she walked, head bowed to the open door.

The helicopter had eight seats, all of which were empty and Emma sat nearest the door that she had entered through, looking down at forests and ravines. She fantasised about crashing down there and walking her way back to civilisation, avoid the terrifying ordeal that she was sure was waiting for her at the castle.

The helicopter climbed still higher and Emma saw a fairytale castle perched on top of a stone promontory. There was an enormous terrace with an 'H' painted on it and this was where they landed.

Emma waited until the rotors had stopped turning and almost jumped out of her skin in fright as the door was yanked open.

A man in a long brown robe, which looked like the one that Emma was wearing, was standing in front of her. 'Lady Stornoway?' Emma nodded.

'Please follow me. I am not permitted to climb the steps to the front door, but you must do this and knock three times.'

Emma, trembling so much that she feared her legs would give way from under her, followed the man.

They passed through an ornamental gate. Emma saw several majestic, wide stone steps leading up to an enormous wooden door.

Holding onto the stone balustrade, as her legs were now very weak, Emma mounted the steps and stood in front of the door. There was a wrought-iron knocker, with a lion's head and closing her eyes and offering a quick prayer to every martyred virgin, Emma knocked three times.

A young woman opened the door. She was dressed in the uniform that Emma had read about in 'The Story of O', long, full skirt, tight corset-like bodice, a transparent fabric showing her bare breasts and high-heeled clogs. To Emma's horror, she realised that she knew this girl from school. She had been in the year above and she had left before her A level exams. 'A-aren't y-you Francesca?'

Emma stammered, as a result of the cold mountain air and enormous fear.

'Come in Emma, we've been waiting for you!'

Emma walked through the door and into a dark hallway.

'Are you naked under your robe?' asked Francesca.

'Yes, I am, and I'm freezing' said Emma.

'Follow me' ordered Francesca and she walked off, with Emma trailing behind, along long stone-flagged corridors, past closed, dark wooden doors and up some stairs, finally halting in front of a double door.

'This is the refectory and we take our meals in silence. Eat something and stay quiet and afterwards, we'll go and bathe you and dress you.'

Emma sat at the end of a long table. There were about thirty young women and ten young men eating quietly. Some of the girls wore the long hooded robes, but most were wearing the classic serving-wench style of corset and skirt. Emma noticed that several had painted nipples and lips, just as described in 'that book' as she had started to call it.

Emma had imagined what would come next and she was correct. She was taken to what resembled a beauty salon, re-waxed, hair washed and blow-dried, nails manicured, painted with a clear, slightly pink varnish. She was given an enema, lubricated and then left alone, naked for a few minutes.

She had the feeling that someone was watching her, but again, she expected this. It provided her with an odd, small germ of courage and intent.

Two women returned, with the ankle and wrist cuffs, made of black leather and a wide, soft collar for her neck.

Emma looked into the mirror, the combination was very erotic and she wondered what she was going to wear. She could feel herself becoming warm and damp and crossed her legs and almost leapt in fright as one of the women spoke to her sharply 'Coño..No my lady!'

The robe was brought out again and Emma stood up as it was pulled over her head, with the hood up, covering her hair. Then she was blindfolded.

Emma stood completely still, to frightened to take a step. She felt her wrists being pulled forward and they were joined, not closely, but with a loose chain in-between the cuffs.

She was led by a chain attached to the one joining her wrist cuffs and was reassured by a woman's voice, that no one would let her fall or stumble.

Slowly, carefully, they walked along stone floors, up a few stairs and then the sound changed as a creaking door opened.

Emma was led forward and she was instantly aware that this was a large room.

The floor was warm and made of wood, but she could feel that there was space all around her.

The blindfold was removed and Emma slowly raised her head.

II

She was standing in a pool of light. All around was darkness, but Emma knew that many people were also in the room with her.

'Emma, Lady Stornoway, we are the Order of Saint Ismael. You are the wife and property of your Lord, James of Stornoway and this very week; he will be made a full partner and member of this order.

It is a tradition within our order, that you, his wife and property should have this time to state your views and make a plea. If you wish to be free, we will let you go and you will never see any of us again. This also involves your family. If you wish to leave now, you will be alone.

You are not here as a submissive. You may be surprised to learn that you have some rights. This is your opportunity now, to speak your mind and shape your destiny.'

Emma swallowed. The spark of resolute courage, which had been growing within her since the day before, suddenly flared and she spoke.

'I am,' she paused, 'young. Too young in many ways to have to make a decision like this. I am only eighteen years old and I was hoping to continue my studies. This life -- this way of life that I have been introduced to, is enticing. I didn't know what to expect of married life, but I have grown to love my husband and I am thankful to my parents as they chose the right husband for me.

My husband, as he has told me is a Dom? He has a submissive, who lives with him to be his sex slave and to agree to his every whim, but where does this leave me?

I have a proposition for you.

I would like please, to stay with my husband, but I would like to go to university to study Psychology and Philosophy and Economics. I could be an asset to the order.

There are many people who study at university who have little freedom -- children of politicians, or the aristocracy and I am happy to stay within our circle. I promise never to discuss the order with anyone who is not of this order. Your secrets are my secrets.

I don't want to leave, but I cannot stay and serve the order as an ill-educated, ignorant chattel.

I accept your restrictions, your limits and your orders, but please let me go and study?

I would like to read, observe and learn the secrets of sexuality.

If you do not, then there is a risk that you are prostituting me. I may as well be a prisoner, kept like a poor girl from an ignorant, fundamentalist family, locked away and perhaps one day, tied up and drowned in the family swimming pool. Surely, we, as an order are more enlightened than this?

If I choose this life, I will return, with my husband and join and act under his command.'

Emma bowed her head and fell to her knees. She was exhausted and cold and felt that she had just pled for her life.

There was a silence for almost a minute. Then a pair of hands started clapping, joined by several others. Surprised, Emma raised her head and saw her mother walking towards her.

'Mummy?' Emma's mother embraced her and stood along side her daughter, head thrown back, wearing the same brown robe.

'I am the mother of this girl. I am a full member of the order and I say that we should permit her to study at university -- but first, she should undergo testing and training here, to discover what she likes, what she needs to work on and what she will do for sexual pleasure.

She shall spend this week, before her husband arrives, in observation and study. No one is to take her. No one is to rape her, but she will learn. Yes?'

There was a pause, but then, there was a swell of sound, of 'Yes!' in more than one language.

Emma's mother whispered in her ear. 'Come with me,' and she led her daughter away from the hall.

III

In a richly decorated, warm room, Emma's mother laid her down on a couch and sat on a stool next to her.

'I'm so proud of you, Emma.'

'Why?' asked Emma, with a voice so weak that it was little more than a faint whisper.

'This was the same speech, almost to the word that I made twenty years ago!'

Emma propped herself up on one elbow. 'Wh-what?'

'Yes,' Emma's mother helped herself to a glass of wine and beckoned into the shadows and a man appeared, dressed only in a strange leather strap, which seemed to imprison his penis in a painful position. He offered a tray of cold meats, cheeses and other snacks. Emma's mother nodded her head and he placed the tray on a table, pulling it towards the two women.

'This is my submissive, Jack. Pay no attention to him. He is mine to do what I please and pleasing me, I please him.

Eat, sweetheart, get some strength back.'

Emma ate and drank some of the wine. Stunned by the events of the day, unaware of the time, whether it was afternoon or evening.

Emma could feel the warmth of the room and the alcohol relaxing her stiff muscles. 'Did you succeed Mother?'

Emma's mother nodded. 'I did. I went to university and I studied hard and then I had you. We are a modern and sophisticated society. We aren't tribal savages, who rape their women, or disfigure them. We ask that people submit or acquiesce to our order. If not, then they do not need to have anything to do with us.'

Emma felt a lot better and asked 'But how do we keep this order a secret?'

'So far, my dear, we have been fortunate. This is why we have this castle, far away from the nearest city. We live privileged, wealthy lives and no one ever talks.

So, will you stay and play and learn?'

Emma nodded and lay back, letting sleep overwhelm her.

End of Part 8.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago

You aren't tribal savages who rape their women or disfigure them, riiight, mummy. As the story progresses that is just what happens: noncon, abuse, disfigurement and murder. A bloody enlightened bunch you've written here. You can't have it both ways, author.

AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago
Another exciting chapter ...

... of a story that seems to improve with every addition. Thank you for sharing your talent for literate erotic fiction with us -- 5 *s and please don't make us wait too long for the next chapter.

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