Sarah gets fingered

Sarah's dilemma

Sarah was not entirely sure what she intended to do when she got to the chateau, but she felt that she could no longer stay passively watching Emily's pornographic sideshow. She got up and made her way in the direction of the building, following a path through the wood which seemed to be going in the right direction.

Emily continued to stimulate George just to the point that he began to ejaculate. then lost interest, giving his penis a painful slap.

"Where's she going?" she asked, dropping her hand onto George's balls and turning to see the figure of Sarah disappearing into the wood.

"I don't know," said George, "But she said she wanted to go see that chateau." His penis continued to dribble semen, evidently begging for the further attention of Emily's hand at the tip, raising and lowering itself as though on invisible pulleys.

"Fontenay?" queried Emily, returning her hand to give George a mocking caress with her nails around his glans, amused by the extremity of his desire.

"Fontenay," confirmed George, pushing himself into Emily's hand.

¨Put the things back in the car, and wait for me there," said Emily, digging her nails into George's penis one final time, and giving it one last, sadistic caress without releasing the potent energies which were just a touch away.

She then got up and followed the path Sarah had taken towards the château, which led to a clearing, in which stood a small stone building, presumably a folly attached to the chateau, thought Emily. But there was no sign of Sarah.

She looked around. Someone had clearly tried to put some order into the surrounding area. There were flagstones in places, and a couple of large upright stones which suggested that this was, or used to be, some sort of pagan religious site, though the building itself was neoclassical in style, probably dating from the early nineteenth century. She was about to go further into the woods in search of Sarah when she heard a noise emanating from the little building.

She mounted the two stone steps to gain the entrance, and realised that Sarah was inside. Standing in the doorway, an eerie feeling came over her. She did not know what this place had been used for, but, breathing in its atmosphere, she had the feeling that dramas had been enacted here, perhaps even blood spilt on the unforgiving stones. If buildings could speak, she imagined the story would be macabre, interesting.

The room was mainly empty, except for a large table. On one side of the table, there were two chairs, on the other side, two stone steps which led up to a sort of altar, on which stood various objects carved in wood, primitive carvings which suggested human forms but which were not quite human, and two candelabra set on the shelf above which hung an image of some unknown god in bas relief. A pentagram contained in a circle was marked out on the floor. There were iron rings fixed into the stonework here and there. A chain hung from the ceiling.

Sarah was standing in front of the altar, looking up at the image. She had her back to Emily, and had not noticed her arrival.

Emily observed her briefly: long legs, short skirt, slim waist, cascading hair, she had everything to arouse desire. Emily called to mind Sarah's previous rejections of her sexual advances, and her desire hardened. This time, she would not let her get away so easily.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Sarah started, and turned to face her.

"I found this," she said, innocently. She showed Emily a piece of highly polished wood, about 20 cm in length, with a brass ring inserted into one end. Emily took it from her, inspected it briefly, then laid it on the table.

Did Sarah really not know what this was used for? she wondered.

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

"To visit the château," replied Sarah.

"What for?" asked Emily.

"To see what's there," replied Sarah evasively.

"Why didn't you wait for us?" asked Emily, clearly irritated by Sarah's presumption at taking an initiative herself. Sarah looked away.

"I didn't bargain for all that," she said, turning her head back to look directly at Emily.

"No, well, to tell you the truth, neither did I," said Emily. "But you know how it is. One thing leads to another."

"You can catch up with me," said Sarah, moving forward in an attempt to go past Emily, who was blocking her way. She had now more or less regained control of her emotions. Her arousal at what she had seen of George and Emily playing together had subsided, and the more sober realisation of Arthur Lancaster's betrayal was beginning to make itself felt. She had clearly let him go too far. She had let him do things that were now embarrassing to her. Not only that, he had recounted what they had done together to others.

"Wait," said Emily, pushing Sarah back with the palm of her hand against her chest. The physical contact caused a powerful reaction in Sarah, which Emily was not slow to notice.

"What?" queried Sarah, looking into her eyes.

"I've got something to show you," said Emily. "Arthur sent me some photos."

"Photos of what?" asked Sarah.

"Of you," said Emily.

"Me?" queried Sarah.

"You must have realised by now that Arthur Lancaster is a complete bastard," said Emily.

"What photos?" persisted Sarah, moving uncomfortably. Emily's closeness was beginning to get to her, and the sexual arousal which had just abated, suddenly returned. She did not want to admit to herself that Emily's physical presence excited her, but she realised that she was responding despite herself. There was a certain menace in Emily's presence, almost a malevolence, which she found both a little frightening and also powerfully erotic. She watched as Emily took out her phone, pressed some buttons, then turned the screen towards her. The image showed her in Mr Graniac's atelier with her legs spread. Bastard was the right word, thought Sarah. There was evidently a hidden camera in the room which he had used to photograph the whole procedure. She looked at Emily.

"I particularly like this one," said Emily, repeatedly pushing a button until they arrived at the moment Graniac had pierced her clitoris. Sarah looked at the photo, then at Emily. "What would you call that expression on your face?" asked Emily. "Ecstasy?" They exchanged a look. "I'm afraid you really are a complete slut, my dear," continued Emily, cutting the phone. "Anyhow, he says he's going to put them on the internet," she added. "Unless...." She brought her hand up and gently stroked Sarah's hair.

"Unless what?" asked Sarah.

"Unless you co-operate," said Emily.

"Co-operate with what?" asked Sarah, but it was clear that she understood, and clear also that Emily's touch had electrified her whole body. There was something in the idea of being blackmailed into allowing Emily to do what she wanted with her that excited Sarah. Emily was not slow to take advantage.

"I think you know what I mean," she said, letting the tips of her fingers trace a line down Sarah's arm to her hand, then onto her thigh. She was looking directly into Sarah's eyes as she moved her hand up under her skirt, and caressed her sex through the fabric of her panties. The inference was clear. She was now Emily's to do with as she pleased. And, as Sarah looked away and did nothing to stop what was happening, Emily quickly made that inference.

In truth, there was nothing really sufficient in what Emily had shown her to blackmail Sarah into 'co-operating'. Photos of her having her clitoris pierced made available on the internet might be embarrassing, but not much more than that. The fact was that Sarah was now excited by what was happening and she therefore allowed Emily to continue, to squeeze, push and prod her with her fingers, pinch her labia, rub her fingers along her slit, then pull the fabric of her panties to one side to uncover her sex. Emily was enjoying the newly gained power she had over Sarah, all the while watching her face for her reaction, sensing Sarah's increasing arousal and embarrassment as her fingers pushed their way between her labia and clumsily sought the entrance to her vagina.

"Take off your panties," said Emily, withdrawing her hand and pulling away slightly. "I want to see your pussy," explained Emily matter of factly. "Take off your panties," she repeated, more insistently. Sarah hesitated. Something inside her resisted the idea, but then, in an almost automatic way, responding as though she had no will of her own, she complied. Emily took her panties from her. "Now, lift your skirt," she said. Sarah complied, revealing her sex, with its attachment. "Very pretty," said Emily, peering down at her. It was true. Sarah's labia, under normal circumstances, acted like a pair of curtains, concealing everything behind, but, as she became more aroused, the pink of her clitoris and her inner labia became more prominent, eventually thrusting through the outer labia in mute testimony to her arousal. Her pubic hair had been trimmed into a heart shape.

Emily brought her hand up and passed one finger up along the line of her sex, arriving at her clitoris, and pulled upwards, then pressed and released, an action which sent little spasms of pleasure through Sarah's body, combined with an occasional sharp pain as the attachment dug into her tender flesh.

Emily continued to caress her, taking her clitoris between her thumb and forefinger and pulling it out and down, watching the increasing arousal her actions produced, playing with her at the edge of pleasure and pain, conscious that Sarah was opening up to her like a flower under the sun. A sudden desire arose within her to cause her significant pain and she pulled her clitoris harder, then crushed her hand and, under her hand, the sharp silver chains, against Sarah's sex. Sarah let out a little cry, but did nothing to stop Emily's hand taking hold of her again, and again applying pressure, this time slipping one of her fingers further down between her labia and feeling for the entrance to her vagina.

Despite what Lancaster had told her, Emily was surprised by Sarah's total submission, and while it was true that she found this to be both amusing and gratifying, she also had the feeling that a little more resistance would deliver a more intense sadistic gratification for her.

"She will let you do anything you want," Lancaster had assured her.

"Anything?" Emily had queried.

"Anything," Lancaster had confirmed. "Particularly when she gets excited."

Now, seeing for herself Sarah's compliance, and her arousal at being used in this way, she began to imagine all the things she could do to her. She felt a surge of empowerment. 'Anything.' The word echoed in her consciousness. As she pushed her finger up into Sarah's body. She imagined offering her to others, to friends and strangers, men and women, who would pay for the right to abuse her. The idea sent a frisson of excitement through her. And, should she disobey, she would punish her. Her mind began to run over suitable punishments.

She thought about calling George and Frederick. Watching them fuck the girl would be amusing, she thought, but she decided against, considering that they would not want to pay for the privilege. Or, at least, not enough.

Sarah also wondered what she would do if one of the men came looking for them. Or even both. In truth, the scenario was one that she frequently fantasised about when she was masturbating, and it usually brought her to a climax. The idea of being possessed by several people at the same time had a lurid fascination for her, which she did her best to repress. Arthur had once made her satisfy the lust of two of his 'friends', to whom he owed money, but she had told him afterwards that she would not do it again. The experience had profoundly affected her. Being fucked by two strangers who made no attempt to communicate with her other than to tell her to shut up, stripped her naked, inspected her as though she were an object, spread her legs, and ridiculed the size of her breasts, then amused themselves by making her take them both at the same time, over the back of the sofa, one from behind and the other in her mouth, and who, in the finish, came all over her face, had not only been humiliating, but it had aroused something deep inside her which still haunted her now, months later. After they had left, she had masturbated to a climax, then showered, and masturbated again. She had then managed to get to sleep, but woke during the night, still wanting sex. It was as though their actions had opened floodgates in her mind. She put on a raincoat and went out into the street, still looking to satisfy her desires.

Emily continued to stimulate Sarah's sex, playing with her between pleasure and pain, and though part of Sarah wanted to stop what was happening, another, stronger part of her wanted to offer herself to Emily, wanted to feel her hand take complete possession of her, use her, make her come, and, though she was ashamed of these feelings, she could do nothing to control them.

Emily pushed her back against the table, and took out her portable. "Spread your legs," she said. "Wider," she insisted. She then photographed her, taking several close-ups of her sex, clearly now in an advanced state of arousal.

The brief respite only served to increase Sarah's arousal, and when Emily took hold of her again, she could not stop her body responding first with a short paroxysm, then with a full blown orgasm which shook her whole body, causing her to writhe and twist while Emily clamped her hand against her sex and slid her finger deep inside her body. It was only as the last tremor of her orgasm subsided that she noticed the arrival of the one-eyed driver of the Citroën van, the neanderthal she had seen earlier. He was now standing in the doorway, one hand raised above his head and resting against the door-jamb, watching the proceedings. Sarah let her skirt fall back into place. Emily reacted with a gesture of anger, but Sarah indicated the figure standing behind her. Emily turned to look.

"Who the fuck are you?" she demanded. "Get the hell out of here!" The neanderthal was clearly unimpressed. He took one step towards them.

"La Comtesse vous invite," he said slowly, clearly talking to Sarah.

"Get lost!" shouted Emily. Taking no notice, the neanderthal took another step forward.

"Maintenant," he said, taking another step forward, and now stretching out his hand in a gesture of invitation. Emily looked from the neanderthal to Sarah and from Sarah back to the neanderthal, trying to figure out the relationship between them.

"Do you know this.... man?" she asked.

"Not really," said Sarah.

"What does that mean, 'not really'?" asked Emily.

"Well, I saw him drive by in a Citroën van just now as I was standing on the side of the road," explained Sarah. "I think he works at the château."

"La château? " asked Emily, turning to the neanderthal.

"La Comtesse vous invite," he repeated, taking another step forward so that he was now only one pace away. Sarah pointed at herself.

"Moi? " she asked.

"Oui," responded the neanderthal. "La Comtesse vous invite." Emily looked again between the two.

"Tell 'im to get lost," she suggested to Sarah. But Sarah did not. She moved in the direction of the neanderthal's invitation. Emily made to prevent her, but the neanderthal swept Emily away with one movement of his arm, which sent her sprawling over the table.

It took her a moment to realise what had happened to her. She then got back onto her feet.

"Hey!" she shouted as the neanderthal led Sarah out of the door "Stop."

It was at this moment that Frederick and George arrived. Emily shouted to them to stop what was happening.

"He's kdnapping Sarah," she blurted. "Stop him!"

The two men sized up their opponent. Truth to tell, they had no desire to intervene, but, nonetheless, Freddie stepped forward.

"Hey, you!" he called. "Let the girl go." He approached the neanderthal, who swung a blow and floored him.

'George!" shouted Emily. "Stop him!"

George hesitated. He looked from Emily to the neanderthal, then moved tentatively forward.

"Now look here.... " he began, but, before he could finish the sentence, the neanderthal had moved forward, taken hold of his arm and flung him into one of the bushes, where he struggled to free himself from the branches.

The neanderthal departed with his prize.