It wasn't getting any better. Two months had passed since his initiation and his life had not changed quite as spectacularly as he'd hoped. A few months ago, a new and fantastical world had been revealed to him, one that offered fulfilment of his deepest desires, but time had passed and his life had remained more or less the same.
After he'd left the Mansion House on the Monday morning he'd felt renewed, reborn one could say. Unconsciously he'd anticipated one of the sisters making contact with him within a few days or a week at the most. But no phone call, no visit, no letter, no e-mail, just silence. It wasn't easy returning to his life, the mundane 'normal' world had very little to offer after he'd experienced a level of pleasure that few others would ever see or experience. It wasn't just the sex, though he honestly knew that that was a large part of it, it was also the sense calmness, joy, love and warmth that the Mansion House seemed to emanate. Of course, he'd been lucky, but now it seemed as though his luck had run out. Time had passed, a few days became a week, a week became a month which rapidly became two and still no contact. So, he'd returned to the Mansion House intent on seeing the girls and finding out what was going on. Typical women he thought, lead you on, build your hopes up, then smash them into a pulp. Why did they do that? One day he might know the answer, but for the moment it just felt like cruel and spiteful prick-teasing.
There was no one, as far as he could see, outside the house. In fact it looked as though the whole place was deserted. The tall double iron gates were locked and the statues of the dragons glared down menacingly towards him. The sky above looked just as ominous: low dark-grey cumulus clouds driven by strong winds passed swiftly from east to west. He felt nervous and decided to pause for a moment in an attempt to soothe his disturbed state of being. Looking upwards, he distanced himself mentally from his thoughts, bringing a renewed sense of self-awareness which he maintained until he could sense the feeling sweeping through him. There it was, that feeling of unity, of being one with the wind, that empathy that lay beyond thought. He could never adequately put it into words, it was simply a feeling of being at one with nature, flowing with the natural forces as they perpetually passed through time.
The sound of a fast approaching car severed the subtle connection and returned him to his position outside the locked gates. 'Maybe it was one of the Sisters?' The thought entered his consciousness reducing the distance between his sense of true-self and his thoughts even further, soon it would be gone and he would become yet another sleeping human drifting on the ocean of thought, desire and emotion.
The car came closer, Paul held his breath in anticipation, his heart beating a little faster. The nervousness had reappeared and he felt a warmth in his loins in anticipation of what might be, his limp penis eager to be attended to. The unseen car slowed as it made its approach. His heart bumped a little harder, the car approached and then passed just as suddenly as it appeared continuing its journey down the otherwise empty country road. A light rain began to fall.
Taking one last glance through the gates, Paul walked over to the intercom positioned on the left gatepost. Pressing the buzzer, his heart raced again. The dragon-statues continued to stare menacingly. Who would answer? What if it was a bloke? God, that would spoil it, he thought to himself. Or maybe it would be the young girl who'd been present at his initiation? He imagined hearing her voice…
"Hello?" A female voice said in a harsh enquiring tone, abruptly cutting short his fantasies.
"Yes, hello," he began nervously suddenly feeling a little foolish as the unconscious desire of sexual fulfilment suddenly become apparent as his true motivating force.
"Can I help you?" The voice asked before Paul had chance to continue
"Er, yeah, my name is Paul, I was wondering if Lucy was around?"
"Lucy? I'm sorry I think you must have the wrong house?"
"Er, well, er…" Paul muttered in bewilderment as he tried to find something to say, "Er, well is Diana there then?" He asked finally.
"Diana?" The voice said in another questioning tone.
"I'm sorry, Diana is not here at the moment." The voice answered after a rather long pause. Paul let out a breath, at least one of the two names that he'd been given was correct.
"May I ask what business you have with her?"
Business? Oh God, what can I say to that? Paul thought to himself.
"Or perhaps, if it is private," the voice said immediately alleviating Paul's concerns over providing an appropriately socially acceptable answer, "would you like to come up to the House and we can discuss it in person?"
"If that wouldn't be too much bother that would be most appreciated." Paul answered politely.
"Of course not, here I'll open the gate, come up the drive and go round the back of the house, I'll let come and meet you." With that the intercom went dead and the gates creaked into life.
He could feel the beginning of a hard-on, but tried to suppress it, despite aching for the affections of the female he'd just spoken to, or maybe an encounter with her friends, or should he call them 'sisters'? he wondered. His cock bulged in his trousers, she'd be sure to notice he thought. He was near the house now, the drive splitting into two, the left hand lane forming a circle in front of the house, the right lane, passing under a hedged archway and evidently leading to a courtyard, garage or something similar. Following the woman's instructions he took the right hand fork, passed the house and eventually came to the expected courtyard which was complete not only with a number of expensive and well kept looking garages but also a small square of terraced stables.
Pausing for a moment, Paul heard laughter coming from one of the stables, followed by the interchange of a few words which he couldn't make out and then more laughter. The voices were female which both unnerved and relieved Paul. At least he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of any blokes.
God, I don't even know her name or what she looks like? The thought suddenly occurred to Paul. Laughter came from the stables once more. What should I do? Paul wondered, wait here? Go round the back of the house? Or go and see the girls in the stables? Hearing laughter once more, he decided on the latter option. So, feeling a little awkward and intrusive, he slowly made his way across the courtyard, trying to keep his erection mentally under control.
"Yes this one would be a very good stud, judging by the size of his willy, maybe we should suggest it to Diana?"
"Well, I'm not sure, I mean, a big dick, doesn't necessarily mean a good breeder, does it?"
"I suppose not, but it is a big one isn't it, plenty enough to please the mares and that's what's important!" Bursting into laughter the girls made their way out of the stable back into the courtyard.
"Oh, hello," the first of the girls said as she saw Paul walking towards them.
"Who's this?" the second girl said. Both girls were aware that the stranger had probably overheard them talking about the size of the stallions penis, but rather than feeling embarrassed, they used the situation to challenge Paul with a non-verbal look.
Startled, Paul hesitated for a moment. Two young ladies were leaving the middle stable, which was about 10 yards away from him. Both wore riding jodhpurs, shiny black riding boots and tight fitting red riding jackets encircled by black polished leather belts replete with a shiny silver buckle. The only notable difference between the two was the style and colour of their hair, the first girl had her dark brown hair cut into a short bob. She was typically attractive, with small lips and a small nose. The second girl wore her blonde hair in pigtails, as attractive as her friend, though a little taller in height and with beautiful blue eyes. Talk about sexy Paul thought to himself as his erect penis pushed harder against his trousers, surely one of them would notice. Trying to maintain as confident and natural a manner as possible he continued towards them.
"Hello," he began, "I was looking for the lady I spoke to on the intercom?"
"Intercom?" the brunette repeated intrigued at the unexpected visit of this masculine stranger.
"I expect that would be Brigitte," the girl with pigtails said looking Paul up and down, noticing and the bulge in his trousers, before glancing at her friend, whose eyes seemed almost mesmerised by Paul's.
"We can show you the way if you like, we're about to go back indoors."
"That would be great, Thankyou." Paul said as he turned and began to walk alongside the two girls.
"What's your name?" The girl with the bob asked.
"Paul" He answered
"I'm Chantelle and this is Emma."
"Why did you want to see Brigitte?" Emma asked looking past her friend to Paul.
"Well," Paul began feeling more than a little embarrassed and searching for a reasonable answer. "I came here about a month ago, with one of the Sisters…"
"Which one?" Chantelle interrupted.
"Lucy. I met her at one of the Churches in Canterbury."
"Ah yes, Lucy, she's not here at the moment..." Emma begun before being interrupted by her friend.
"There are some nice Churches in Canterbury." Chantelle said eager to prevent her friend from hogging the conversation. "Have you been to the one at Harbledown? It's got a motif of Mithras slaying the bull in one of its walls. It was taken from the Mithraic Temple that was built there before the Christians came." Chantelle said revealing that she knew more than a reasonable amount about local and ancient history.
"Yeah, I've been there, it's very impressive, though a little smaller than I had imagined. Did you see the stained glass window of Satan submitting before St Michael?"
"Yes it was very," Chantelle paused, searching for the right word, "striking. You know that the symbolism that the Christians adopted goes back many thousands of years. It's symbolic of the battle within oneself. The problem with Christianity is that as its wealth and power in the physical world increased, its power and knowledge over the inner world decreased. But the knowledge is still there – if you know how to read it that is, but that requires a system or guide."
They'd reached the house by now and Paul's interest in the conversation had brought with it a forgetfulness concerning his earlier sexual desires, his penis having become limp once more.
"Okay, well you'd better take your clothes off then." Chantelle said finally as they entered the laundry room.
"Sorry?" Paul said surprised at the turn in conversation.
"No men are allowed to enter the Mansion House clothed. That is one of the rules of the Sorority. I thought you'd been told that after your initiation?"
"I expect he thought it wasn't really enforced." Emma said to her friend.
"Yes I'm only here for a quick visit" Paul said by way of an excuse.
"Well that may be so, but rules are rules and men are not allowed in the house wearing clothes, unless specially designated by one of the older Sisters."
"It is one of the fundamental house rules." Emma said trying to soothe his obvious embarrassment.
"Come on, hurry up." Chantelle barked destroying Emma's attempt at easing Paul out of his clothes.
"Chantelle, go easy." Emma said glancing towards her friend whose look implied that harshness was the most suitable method. Understanding, Emma turned to back Paul.
"You heard her, strip off!" She barked, the change in her manner as sudden as her friends. Seeing Paul's hesitancy, Chantelle quickly closed and bolted the door behind her. The sudden movement worked on Paul's subconscious, his heart raced, his cock remained limp and his face began to turn red.
"He's blushing!" Emma laughed.
"Emma!" Chantelle barked at her friend, before turning to Paul and saying in a calm voice "Paul, will you wait here a minute please." Chantelle walked across the room indicating to Emma that she should do the same. Within a few seconds they had passed through another door and closed it behind them. Paul heard nothing. Should I strip? He wondered to himself. Have I got in over my head again? He looked around the room which he figured was a typical room for a large Mansion House, five washing machines that gleamed under the long fluorescent ceiling light, two driers, a large ironing board with an expensive looking iron, white painted cupboards, a few washing bins, a single large flip top bin and a large practical looking work surface complete with sink and draining board.
The sound of the door opening turned Paul's head to face the two girls as they re-entered the room.
"Listen," Chantelle began her tone low but still sharp, "we're not even sure, you should be here, so if your not, then its better that you do as we say to avoid any problems occurring at a later date. We're new here as well you know and we don't know what degree of levity there is." Emma by now had walked past Paul and was standing behind him.
"CLOTHES OFF NOW!" She shouted loudly into Paul's right ear "NOW!"
Paul jumped, shocked at the ferociousness in Emma's voice.
"Get those damn fucking clothes off or I'll rip them off you" Emma ordered, her tone sharp and controlled.
"YOU HEARD HER!" Chantelle barked, eager to torment the unfortunate, but obviously sexually frustrated young man. Both girls had known as soon as they'd seen him that he was after one thing and one thing only. He might talk about spirituality and personal development, but his real raison d'être was to emit his seed as often as he could.
"Right, that's it," Emma said, imminent action apparent from her tone. Stepping forward she began to pull at Paul's jacket.
"OFF! OFF! OFF!" She shouted pulling it down over his shoulders. Chantelle keenly joined in, pulling his shirt roughly out of his trousers before pulling it apart without bothering to unbutton it.
"Hey, okay, okay, I'll strip." Paul said fearful that his clothes would be in tatters within the next few minutes.
"Too late." Emma said having cast his jacket to the floor whilst Chantelle's expert hands had almost torn his shirt from his body. Paul tried to back away but bumped into Emma. The feel of the contours of her breasts outlined against her jacket triggered a slight arousal which rapidly escalated as his shirt was finally discarded and the two girls began to pull on his trousers. He could feel Emma's fingers tugging against the waistband, every now and then descending just a little further than was necessary. Chantelle quickly dropped to the floor, drew a knife from her boot and adeptly sliced his shoe laces in half.
"Shoes off!" Emma commanded as her friend stood up.
"You know the last male that was caught wearing clothes in the House was severely punished." Chantelle said her face suddenly close to Paul's.
"What happened to him?" Paul asked looking nervously into Chantelle's eyes.
"That's something that you're better off not knowing. Let's just say that the mercy of the Great Mother was not apparent on that day." Emma said from behind.
"The mercy of the Great Mother?" Paul repeated nervously.
"Hekate has many faces and many weapons, do you know what kind?" Chantelle said
Paul didn't answer, he knew exactly what she was referring to. One of the more famous representations of the Phrygian Goddess Hekate was a statue that depicted her as a composite of three beings with three heads - the head of a dog, the head of a lion and the head of a horse. Each body had two arms and held varying objects, one of which was the scythe. Paul drew his own conclusions of which the outcome could have been any of a number: castration, death or a severing of the initiates occult work. The first two were the most dramatic and the fact that the girls didn't elucidate any further was certain evidence that they were leaving it up to his subconscious to flesh out an answer.
Chantelle's hands had once again begun pulling at his trousers and he answered her movement with a growing erection.
"My someone's pleased to see us!" Chantelle giggled as she noted the pushing against fabric created by his hardness. His erection had caused Chantelle's role to change from forceful dominatrix to that of a giggling schoolgirl.
"You're going to rip my trousers." Paul half-said half-gasped. The girls answered by pulling their knives from their boots and cutting into the material.
"Now hold still" Chantelle said smiling to herself, "I don't want to cut anything I'm not meant to!" Replacing their knives the girls renewed their efforts, effectively ripping the trousers into two sections which obediently fell to the floor.
"That was my trousers!" Paul said the concern in his voice weakened by his state of arousal.
"Ah boxer shorts! Not quite as nice as jockey shorts off course, but still nice." Emma said deliberately ignoring his concern.
"I like G-strings personally!" Chantelle teased from her crouching position. "My he's got good thighs hasn't he Em'." She said to her friend who had stood up and was once again positioned behind directly Paul. "Mmm and a nice flat muscular stomach, you must work out Paul."
"A bit…" Paul said.
"Let's have these off as well then." Emma said interrupting her friends admiration by pulling his boxer shorts down.
"You might have a bit off difficulty Emma." Chantelle giggled.
"Has he got an erection?" Emma asked sounding tired, impatient and annoyed.
"Er, I think so, come and have a look." Chantelle replied.
"First things first," Emma said pulling his shorts down over his backside. His hardness resisted the movement. Emma paused a moment, enjoying the stimulation she was causing to this poor soon-to-be-naked male.
"Nearly there Em'." Chantelle enthused with delight as she caught site of his pubic area, then the base of his shaft. Suddenly his shorts were at his ankles, his cock springing freely upwards, bouncing for a moment or two before finding its natural position where it stood hard and outright.
"My clothes, you've ruined my clothes." Paul said finally, highly aroused at the turn of events..
"Socks off as well Paul" Chantelle said clearly delighted at the site of his erection.
Without thinking Paul lifted his feet enabling Emma to remove his shoes, socks and what remained of his trousers.
"There, I'll just discard of these." Emma said finally standing up with the remains of Paul's clothes in her hands. Paul watched as she walked over to the bin, flipped the lid and dropped his clothes inside.
"Don't worry, we'll find you some new clothes!" Chantelle said.
"Yes, don't we have a maids outfit that would fit him Chantelle?" Emma said seriously as she returned to stand beside her friend.
Paul gulped, his face turning red once more.
"You'd look good in a French maids outfit, don't you think Paul?" Chantelle teased.
"I think that that," Emma begun indicating to Paul's hard-on, " might be a bit of a problem though. I mean, the maids outfits have very short skirts…"
"And skimpy knickers!" Chantelle said enjoying the fear and arousal they were causing.
Skirts! Now I'm worried, Paul thought to himself. CFNM was one thing, but I'm not a transvestite. Deep down he wasn't so sure though, what would it be like? Would it be a turn on? Or would he feel sleazy, dirty, guilty?
"I'm not wearing any women's clothes" he blurted out uncontrollably trying to prove his masculinity.
"You'll wear what we tell you!" Emma barked, "and if that means wearing a skimpy little maids outfit then that is exactly what you will wear, okay?"
Paul shivered, fearful of the direction this might be taking, next thing they'll want to fuck me up the arse. He thought to himself and there was no way he would allow that to happen.