Deceived and Enslaved (6 page)

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Authors: Leo Barton

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After attending to June in a similar fashion, Lucy then turned round to inform the party that both girls were already well-lubricated with their own excitement.

LW and myself were to have the pleasure of Amanda as we had prearranged. LW insinuated himself under her, his hot and erect cock brushing first against her thigh, before he levered her onto his pole, clasping onto her beautiful plum buttocks hard. I had the pleasure of watching both him fucking Amanda and DE fucking June in a similar fashion.

Five minutes had been allotted for this stage in the plan. My cock was twitching frantically. I so much wanted to be part of the action. The girls were enjoying themselves immensely. It must have been even more pleasurable for them in their silent darkness, having only the sensation of a stiff cock inside them to concentrate on.

The five minutes passed slowly before it was my turn to join the show. This was particularly delightful for me, because I don't think I had ever sodomised such a beautiful girl. I also knew however that it was a challenge, because I was not allowed to come until both girls had orgasmed.

I crouched over Amanda's pert bottom, letting my cock fall onto her buttocks, leading a trail of semen until I reached my destination, her little puckered bumhole. LW steadied her rump, allowing me to push my oiled shaft between her parted cheeks and gradually slide it into her perfect aperture. What bliss it was. I could feel LW pushing against the dividing membrane that separated her two delicious orifices, and imagined what a pleasure it must have been for Amanda to have two cocks inside her at once. I pushed harder and harder inside her. Her body was squirming against the pressure of our two cocks sandwiching her like that. It was gratifying to know that it wouldn't be long until she had, for what I imagined was the first time in her life, a blissful orgasm.

As I gathered pace inside her I thought about the likes of Amanda. The sexual repression I have discussed with JS and LW on so many occasions. These girls brought up to expect nothing from sex, no satiation from their dour husbands. Only to breed and smile at their children. No wonder they thought that the ritual, the whole ceremony of nonsense that we had concocted meant something more, something even mystical, when we were introducing them to a world which they had never, could never, have imagined.

LW was more desperate for Amanda to come than I was. I felt her whole body tense on me, lock on me, grip me so hard that I knew at last she had reached the place where she had never been before. Her climax was long. I could not hold in my seed any longer. It gushed inside her as I gripped her hard by the hips. LW came at the same time. We filled both her channels of delight at once.

Lost in my reverie I had forgotten about June. But by the orgiastic shriek, muffled though it was by the gag, I could tell that our mission had been accomplished.

There was one more part to the ceremony before we could accept the two girls as acolytes. As we withdrew from the girl, our pleasure was to lift Lucy up so that her sex was at the same level as Amanda's mouth. I removed the gag, and forced Amanda's mouth onto Lucy's sex. Amanda, innocent though she was, seemed to know what was expected of her and lapped at Lucy's quim greedily. June had the delight of sampling JS's not inconsiderably sized cock. She too seemed to take it with relish. I don't know what sight was more delightful, to watch JS come inside the girl's mouth, and for her to take all his seed down her throat, or to watch Lucy in such a wild paroxysm of pleasure.

As they say, a good time is had by all.

After it was all over I asked PCK if he thought that what we did was dangerous, legally I meant, him training to be a lawyer and everything. But he said we were safe. As far as he knew there was no law against it. The sex was consensual. Anyway, none of these girls would go to court if only because they had enjoyed themselves so much. The sensible ones always dropped the religious overtones and went looking for excitement elsewhere, the others hung around a little, and their interest gradually declined, unless we promised them another type of initiation ceremony. So he thinks we are safe. I can't believe my luck. My god, if they only knew.'

Lillian could not believe that Hyde-Lee had written it. It was the nature of the gloatingly inhuman prose that shocked her the most. Hyde-Lee truly was a Janus figure. What a contrast to the kind, considerate prose of his novels!

But this was not what pained her. Willingham had said it, Hyde-Lee had said as much, that her father, Joseph Simpson, or JS as she was sure he had appeared in the diary, was part of a threesome, a pretty terrible threesome at that. What had Hyde-Lee said to her the last time that they had spoken: 'a pretty awful gothic triptych, like one of those confoundable things you found in the National Gallery, not a particularly pleasant sight.'

At first, she had thought he had been referring to some adolescent gaucherie, to youthful indiscretion or pretension, but now she knew.

She felt angry with her father. How could he have participated in these things, and not just that, but how could he have had so little respect for the women he had deflowered? How could they have all been convinced that the women were all willing victims? The nineteen fifties were not the nineteen ninety's. Those girls were innocent and vulnerable, and her father had taken advantage of them for his own perverse pleasure.

There was something even more terrifying at the back of her mind, something which suddenly propelled itself into the forefront of her thoughts. It was the description of the place, the basement with the candles, the large slab of stone, and the metal poles. There were too many similarities for it to be mere coincidence. Of course, her dream! It was like her dream! Not in every detail, but surely over the years! How many details they must have changed, developed new tortures, new punishments?

How could she have dreamt something so similar to what she had just read? Surely not! Surely her father could not have sacrificed his own daughter on this bogus altar of pleasure. It was too inconceivable for her to think. But how else could she explain the dream.

Yes, she would write a book about Hyde-Lee, she decided. She certainly would. She would outline every single barbarous thing he had done in his life, every single crime he had committed. She would research it much more thoroughly than she had researched anything in her life.

Suddenly a thought came to her. She clutched at the last chance to redeem her father. She picked up the second volume of the diaries: they ran from sixty-five to nineteen eighty. No that was too early. She would have been too young. If she had been molested in the way she thought she had, if her own father had somehow abused her or let her be abused then surely Hyde-Lee would have an entry about it and it must be in the last volume.

She started reading the book from the last entry. The entries were briefer, only a few words here and there which must correspond to Hyde-Lee's failing powers and his illness.

She flicked the pages back, then, as she cast her eyes along the top of the book, she noticed something. She opened the book with haste. Three years were missing. Three years of her puberty, between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. They had been ripped out. It made sense. Maybe Hyde-Lee had been defending himself. Maybe Hyde-Lee hadn't wanted her to see. Perversely he was trying to protect her own memory of her father. So it must be true. Her worst fears confirmed. How could he? How could her father have done such a terrible thing? Clutching onto the book, she locked the door behind her and sped back to her room. She tossed the book down and slumped onto the bed. She could fight back her tears no longer.

6: Sonia, the Maid, Tells Her Story

Ten minutes later Sonia knocked on her bedroom door.

'What's wrong, miss?'

'Nothing, Sonia, nothing at all.' She had become quite friendly with Sonia, chatty, informal, but she always felt that Sonia had held something back in reserve.

'Has something upset you?'

It was obvious by Lillian's posture and the red rawness of her eyes that something had indeed disturbed her.

'This place, Sonia, this place upsets me. Things happen here, don't they? Things that don't normally happen. You must know, you must know?'

She couldn't help herself. Everything that she had read, the power of her own recurring dream, everything fused, fixed in her mind.

'What things?' Sonia asked guardedly.

'Hyde-Lee and Willingham they are sadists, aren't they?'

Sonia didn't answer.

'Tell me the truth, please. I need to know for my sanity. Things do happen here?'

Sonia moved over beside her and sat on the bed. 'Yes...'

'They take girls don't they, they beat them...'

'But...'

'But that is terrible!'

Lillian was crying again, strong images from Hyde-Lee's personal diaries flitting through her mind, the horrible sense of her father's betrayal lodged deep inside her. She couldn't stop herself, even though she hated to cry in front of someone who was virtually a stranger to her.

Sonia placed her arms around Lillian and held her in a maternal embrace. Lillian let her head fall onto Sonia's breast.'

'Did that happen to you, Sonia?'

Sonia still did not speak.

'Please Sonia tell me! What did they do to you?'

Sonia still didn't want to speak; she knew that it was forbidden to tell outsiders anything about what happened inside the house, but looking into Lillian's eyes and seeing such pain there melted her heart.

'Please, Sonia, I need to know what goes on here.'

'Why is it so important to you?'

'Because I think they might have done that to me a long time ago.'

Eventually, Sonia began to tell her story.

'The reason I came here is that they were offering three times more money than I would normally receive. Remember I was very young when I came here. Very easily influenced. Hyde-Lee promised me that he would personally teach me English, that I would travel with him, and that when he died he would make me a beneficiary of his will. He knew then that he didn't have long to live. He had an apartment then in Rome.' Sonia spoke in accurate but heavily accented English.

'And why did you stay?'

'I stayed because they took all my innocence away. It is wrong to be too innocent after a time but it is also wrong to have all your innocence taken away too soon.'

'When did you come here, Sonia?'

'About three years ago.' Sonia hesitated, still unsure about whether she should continue with her story.

'Tell me what happened.' Lillian smiled at Sonia through her tears. She felt comfortable resting against her pliant chest, not minding in the least that Sonia had continued to caress her cheek and that their legs were touching.

'I answered an advertisement in the newspaper. Everybody told me not to because there were always rumours about what goes on here, but I had my own reasons for wanting to come here. I wanted to get away from my family, especially my stepfather who I detested.'

'Who interviewed you?'

'Everton and Willingham. They invited me to sit down with them in what they called the drawing room. That is the room at the back of the house where Hyde-Lee used to receive visitors when he was well enough. It's a beautiful room, with dark red walls and antique furniture. I had never seen anywhere quite like it before. It seemed such a wealthy place.'

'What did they ask you?'

'They asked me about my past jobs, whether I could cook or clean, what type of experience I'd had. It was very much the usual type of interview. It was only at the end that things changed, or at least seemed strange. They told me that they had prepared a contract and that I must sign it if I wanted the job. I read the contract. All it really demanded of me was that I was discreet, that I would never tell anybody outside what happened inside the house. It wasn't that that seemed so strange. I'd had to sign a privacy contract before when I had worked as a cleaner in a politician's house. No, it wasn't the contract. It was that they made such a fuss about it. Did I understand what it meant? Did I understand that I was forbidden to report anything that I saw or heard? I told them that I was sure, but they didn't seem convinced. There was also something about the way Willingham looked at me, his eyes staring at me so intently.'

'Weren't you put off?'

'I was a little nervous but the money was fantastic. And they also didn't make me work so hard. I mean the hours were absolutely fantastic. They gave me two days off a week. I also could have two hours a day to study English. Learning English had always been a passion of mine, but lessons were always so expensive. The idea of getting free tuition was fantastic to me. I also knew that I couldn't go back home. Nothing that happened there could have been as bad as living with the pig who had married my mother.'

'Why was he so terrible?'

'He used to lock me up in my room, and leave me for hours. And, at night, when my mother was sleeping, he would sometimes come into the room and take me over his knees, pull up my nightie and beat me on my bare bottom with a slipper until I was all red and swollen and if I made a noise he would beat me harder.'

'That's terrible, Sonia!'

'That is why I was so happy to come here.'

'So what happened when you came here?'

'A couple of days went by and nothing happened. My duties were quite specific then. I had to prepare their meals and was expected to clean the dining room and the kitchen, to buy and prepare the food, but nothing more. Everton was cold but he wasn't intrusive. I mean he never interfered with my work. And everybody seemed to be happy.

'On my first weekend I was told that Willingham expected guests. I was to prepare food for two other people, two women. I knew I would have to do this from time to time so I thought nothing of it. My family are originally from Rome so I made
spaghetti con le lumache
, followed by
abbachio
, the special dishes of my region.'

Here Sonia hesitated before continuing. 'Lillian I was so innocent, I never suspected. It doesn't make me feel bitter, not now, it's too late, but I think that that is the point.'

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