Liana at the Castle Pt. 01

Although my stories are certainly BDSM stories in their subject matter, they are certainly not genre/lifestyle/romantic BDSM stories, where one can expect care, consent, safe-words, and a code of conduct that keeps real people safe in real relationships. My stories are pure fantasy, and much darker--please don't read them if this will upset you. Accordingly, these stories will be put into the Non-Consent/Reluctance category.

Only one girl--that anyone knew of, at least--had ever come close to disturbing Anne-Marie's aura of imperturbable control and omniscience.

Liana.

And this was confusing, to those who had not been around during the time, or who had not paid attention, for Liana was in many ways one of the least remarkable girls of that period.

Stories about the Castle must often be understood as relating to a particular period: as much as new members are initially transfixed by the simple fact of unconstrained access to a cluster of beautiful, submissive girls who are apparently eager to be degraded, to be fucked, to be subjugated; as much as these less experienced members are often overwhelmed by the freedom of choice, the freedom to make real their most twisted fantasies without the slightest restraint--even this remarkable experience eventually begins to seem fairly normal for regular members.

Note that is not at all necessary for a girl to be 'in fact' eager for such treatment--only that she be apparently so. Some members prefer authentic eagerness, and some like to know that the requirement to smile, to offer herself for appalling treatment with soft open-ness has been cruelly imposed on the lovely naked creature that spreads her legs and smiles desperately as she offers her pretty breasts for the dog-whip--still others like there to be boundaries between these two conditions that they can use to tease a girl with; tastes vary, of course, and at the Castle, all are served, as far as is practical.

Despite all this, over time, a member who attends often enough gets to know--quite literally--the ins and outs of all the available girls--even though there are always at least 12 in residence, plus others on shorter-term placements. It's quite obvious how this must be true, really; since the range of behaviour permitted to these girls has been so drastically and forcibly reduced from the full gamut of human conditions to a tightly restricted set concerning their use and abuse as sex toys, they are in fact rather boring creatures.

For most men, it remains exciting to use and abuse even the prettiest, most delightful girl perhaps a dozen times before she ceases to hold much fascination apart from that of a soaker-up of casual cruelty, a generic provider of soft holes and despairing screams and moans--unless, of course, she becomes a favourite for some specific reason.

It is necessary, for this and for other reasons, too, for Anne-Marie and the Great Table (as the management committee is known, after some long lost particular table in the original Castle of the 1890s around which the original--and still enshrined--principles of The Castle were agreed) to ensure a turnover of new girls.

Although new girls come--and other girls are moved on--in ones and twos, so that there is irregular but continuous change, there are occasionally notable inflexion points, when for some reason new dynamics between girls, or between girls and members, change the character of the current 'crop' or 'gaggle' (such demeaning and utilitarian metaphors are deliberately used, with knowing and amused callousness).

These moments, when sufficiently distinct, are what define the end of one period and the beginning of another.

As an example, the points where a lesbian romance is detected between two of the girls can bring a noticeable sea-change. Likewise an event, like the public branding of a girl who has somehow been brought to consent to such treatment, can change things even without arrivals or departures. Arrivals and departures, though, are the key drivers of new periods. Particular girls often become identified with such periods.

Liana's period was sometimes known as 'The Time of the Ice Queen'--a stretch of months during which Anne-Marie surpassed even her own reputation as the 'cold corrupter'--a time when she had become utterly relentless--all-consuming in her requirements of her charges--a time in which several new recruits were thoroughly broken within 6 weeks of arriving, almost before their initial shock at the reality of what they had foolishly committed themselves to had sunk in.

Only a few members really understood, so perfectly did Anne-Marie manage herself, that this was all because of Liana--that very same Liana who was now Anne-Marie's apprentice and successor apparent.

Anne-Marie had never intended Liana to become an inmate of the Castle--not seriously, at least. You see, Anne-Marie had a private life, away from the Castle. She kept it that way--it was crucial to her ability to play the specific part she played while there. No sane person could be as certain, as all-knowing, as brilliantly skilful, as smilingly cruel, as smoothly manipulative as the Anne-Marie of the Castle was on a full-time basis. She needed--absolutely required--space and time away from the Castle, in the 'real' world, to function.

Not that the Anne-Marie away from the Castle was anything other than magnificently self-contained. Even with her guard down and her intellect off duty, Anne-Marie was still a powerful presence, wherever she went.

One aspect of Anne-Marie's private life was a string of love affairs. Anne-Marie had long since realised that all human experience is relativistic. That to enjoy sweet, one needed to experience bitter; to appreciate light, one needed dark; and so it was with sex. Anne-Marie had both acknowledged and accepted her extreme dominant tendencies within sexual relationships when she was very young, but she had always refreshed her palate, so to speak, with simpler, more reciprocal liaisons--always with women, almost exclusively younger than she.

These were never romantically serious (although there was often a playful aspect of this), and never lasted overlong--a year at most, but they were an important part of Anne-Marie's life.

She had never had any trouble attracting lovers--she was a magnet in many environments, and to her satisfaction, it had become easier and easier to propose sexual relationships to women over the years, as flexibility about gender relations had made for cultural progress in this area (the contrast between this increase in freedom and naturalness in her private life, and the crudely and violently patriarchal modes of The Castle was another contrast that provided her with pleasurable frissons).

She had picked Liana up at a classy restaurant--the girl had been waitressing, obviously inexperienced, and had made a mistake with Anne-Marie's order.

Something in the way she had apologised--clearly terribly upset, terribly eager to be approved of, to make amends--had alerted Anne-Marie's fine-tuned senses, and since Liana was also gorgeous, she swooped. The girl didn't really understand what had happened, but she certainly understood that Anne-Marie was in charge, and in the end gloried in this as she experienced, one after the other, sexual intensities and delights that were beyond anything her experience with the young men she had been with had prepared her for.

Liana believed herself in love, although Anne-Marie had never talked of love, and laughed at her when she proclaimed hers, so fervent, so sincere, so sure. It made her cry, sometimes, but Anne-Marie always kissed her tears away, and cuddled her, and stroked her, and caressed her breasts, nipped sharply at her earlobes, and kissed her deeply, languidly, invading her, and they would be at it again, Anne-Marie driving her to peak after peak--and demanding service in return, too; taking her pleasure from the lithe young body that so earnestly sought to offer itself for anything that might be asked of it.

There was, though, something different about Liana. Soft as she was, helplessly worshipful as she was of Anne-Marie, happily passive as she was, in the face of Anne-Marie's smiling certainty, her smoothly imposed but diamond-cored willpower, the girl nevertheless retained a core of determination, of committed intent; things she would not let go of, no matter how often deflected, shut down, distracted, beguiled...

And one of these things was an unquenchable itch to discover just what, exactly, it was that had Anne-Marie so often unavailable at night, whereabouts unknown; what it was that paid for the gorgeous clothes she showered on Liana; the jewellery, the glorious weekend trips to delightful and swanky destinations, the luxurious flowers she would have delivered to the girl's tiny, cramped apartment, to the astonishment of her flatmates.

Although this particular recurrent, insuppressible curiosity was surprisingly irritating to the normally impervious Anne-Marie, this quality of obduracy at the core made Liana more interesting than the usual girlfriends, and Anne-Marie found herself unwilling to break it off, even when the calendar told her it had been fourteen months since that first seduction, no more than an hour after she had told the chef-patronne that Liana was quitting that moment, taken the girl and overwhelmed her with soft but insistent kisses, confident, invasive hands, skilful, relentless manipulations and knowing caresses, to her soft astonishment, shy acceptance and (rather speedily achieved) helpless and noisy delight.

But that evening, for whatever reason--perhaps it was her eyes in the half-light, or the way she spread her thighs so sweetly, when the girl asked the question again, so sincerely, so humbly, Anne-Marie surprised herself, even, by giving in;

"But why? Why do you need to know, pretty?"

As always, without fail, being called 'pretty' brought a small, happy curve to Liana's lips. She had grown up awkward, in a series of damaging environments; only her inner toughness got her through (that same toughness that made her keep asking), but she had never been given any reason to suppose that anyone though her pretty until boys and men had started to move in on her, which had mostly frightened and disturbed her.

But she had been brought to accept that Anne-Marie did genuinely consider her pretty, loved that Anne-Marie had helped her to make herself pretty, taught her to look at herself in the mirror through Anne-Marie's eyes, and judge herself pretty--at least by her lover's standards, which she venerated--even if she could never fully own that opinion of herself.

And tonight, having presented herself, near naked, as seductively as she can--in the service of getting Anne-Marie to answer her, yes, but also, sincerely, eagerly, humbly in the hope of Anne-Marie having the time this evening to take her into the other-world that their sex life has become as she, Liana, has learned to give herself ever more completely, to collaborate in the older woman's assured and total annexation of her sexuality, to become an eager and compliant plaything for her lover's sweet and searing intensity.

Having presented herself so, it gives her a shiver of delight to be called 'pretty', and she deliberately lets Anne-Marie see this, opening herself, tilting her head a little, letting the movement make her breasts jiggle, the nipples jerk softly, inviting attention, advertising their semi-stiff arousal, feeling this little provocation stoke the tingle in her belly, biting her lip at the sudden access of anticipation of what, if she's lucky, will be her fate soon--to be a sexual plaything, grateful to be under Anne-Marie's total and imperious command.

And the move works. Anne-Maries notes it, of course, understands it completely, sees it for what it is--a gorgeous and erotic little come-on--but at the same time knows the depth of Liana's offer.

Anne-Marie gets provocative, sincere and shameless invitations from gorgeous naked girls every day of course--expects them as her due from the inmates of the Castle, requires them to be convincing, punishes failure to communicate this savagely and with pleasure (however high the regard in which Anne-Marie is held by a large number of people, no-one who knew her at all well would have hesitated to agree that she was a sadist--that she enjoyed inflicting pain both mental and sensual on her helplessly vulnerable charges). But from Liana, who is free to leave at any moment, whom Anne-Marie has always told must consider herself free, the heartfelt deliberation about this provocation is noteworthy.

So Liana doesn't have to answer the question. Anne-Marie smiles at her, one of her rare, warm, full-mouthed smiles that makes her look 10 years younger, that makes Liana's heart flutter and her pulse race, and says;

"No. No, don't answer. I know. God knows you've told me enough times. But you should be warned--as I've told you on many occasions, too; this may change everything for us.

And the smile is gone, the light switched off; she is the cool, impervious Anne-Marie again, and Liana shivers, knowing that if Anne-Marie is so clear, this must be true. That she has demanded Pandora's box be opened, that the contents will be what they will be; that the consequences may be unpleasant.

Little does she know just how serious and how innocent she is of the depths of unpleasantness that will be visited upon her in the coming months.

Anne-Marie, of course, has a very clear and detailed picture of where all this might lead. But she is equally certain that it will not happen. She told herself, many years earlier, that she would never seduce any of her lovers into becoming a Castle girl--and, despite several tempting moments, and more than one girl who clearly would have been an easy touch (and despite the sizeable bounty offered by the organisation for girls who go all the way--become chattel slaves--fully owned creatures)--she has never broken this self-imposed rule. She knows very well that she could bring Liana to complete submission within 6 months, if she chose. But she knows that if she does this, even once, then her lovers will cease to have a different flavour than the pretty and helpless cunt she loves to manipulate at the Castle, and that she will have lost a necessary part of her life.

But for now, she realises, this is interesting. To see Liana's reaction to learning that her kind and generous lover (generous as much in bed as with gifts) is not just a sexual dominant, but a full-on domme, cruel sadist and--to all intents and purposes--a white slaver, too.

It was time, she reflected, with a wry internal smile, to have broken up with the girl anyway.

"You are sure you want this, then pretty? I'll tell the truth, I promise. I won't varnish it. You'll know everything. Are you sure, now?.

Eyes round, the weight of the moment bearing in on her, but as certain at her core as ever, Liana nods; feeling her nakedness, her lewd pose as somehow incongruous, but in the end relishing the transgressive feeling.

"I'm sure... and... and, whatever happens, thank you. Thank you for noticing me. Thank you for, for taking me, thank you for... for opening my eyes. And... and my legs, too... Thank you...

It just pours out of her, unplanned, necessary; raw emotion in her voice--almost desperation, blinking back surprising tears--a terrible conviction suddenly upon her that she has done something bad, that she has broken something that will never be fixed, through her stubbornness.

Not that she will change her mind.

And now her nakedness is her glory, her challenge, her dare, putting her vulnerability, her offer, her softness--all on the line; 'Tell me the truth and I'm yours. Really, yours, your forever, completely.'--these words too are unplanned, but only Liana hears them, a silent promise in her head.

Anne-Marie senses something, but this is too subtle, too strange even for her finely attuned antennae. And perhaps, too, she is a little off, a little emotional. Even her.

She takes a breath;

"Very well. It's like this, pretty..."