Discipline of the Private House (38 page)

This is making me so wet,' she said. 'Nicole, I can't help it. I'll have to be punished soon, please. Make me beg like a puppy, and whip my secret places. Please.'

But as she said the words she was looking into Jem's eyes. Jem stared back. She remembered how even the slightest hint of shameful behaviour caused Olena to become aroused. She thought of all the eyes watching her - those of Julia and her guards, Max and Ilsa, Nicole and Olena - as she knelt with her striped bottom thrust out and wiggling, and with a rubber ball stretching open her mouth. She felt the hot throbbing of her sore buttocks. And she experienced, faintly but unmistakably, the warm tingle of arousal in her sex.

If it had not been for the ball in her mouth she would have laughed aloud with relief and joy.

Thank you, Olena, she thought; thank you for showing me the way. Now I know that I can withstand anything they do to me. In fact, the more they humiliate and punish me, the more I'll like it.

She wagged her tail excitedly and looked up at Ilsa, and over her shoulder at Max.

I bet they think they've trained some very submissive young puppies in their career, Jem thought; they've seen nothing yet.

'Would you like to stay and watch?' Ilsa said to Nicole and Olena.

'We'd like to,' Nicole replied, 'but Olena needs her discipline, and she hasn't had so much as a single smack today. And then I have to attend the Chatelaine. But please do tell us what you intend. The little puppy seems well trained. Is there much more for her to learn?'

'The puppy has learned all the basic positions. But as she's a young bitch, sfre needs to learn how to behave when she's on heat. We'll soon have her in rather more revealing positions. We'll teach her to use her paws to display her sexual organs. We'll teach her about pushing her nose into people's crotches, and trying to lick them and so on, and rubbing her bottom against people's legs. Young bitches are quite disgustingly exhibitionist when they're on heat. And then, of course, we'll have to discipline her until she learns that she must not behave in such a disgusting manner unless we tell her to.'

'Yes,' said Max, who had joined the group at the edge of the room. 'Once we've seen how she behaves while she's on heat we'll probably have to tie her down and whip the affected area, between her hind legs. One flogging is usually enough, but this particular puppy is very wayward.'

'Then we move on to training her how to eat and drink daintily,' Ilsa said, 'from bowls on the floor. And she's not house-trained yet, of course. Once she's had her face rubbed a few times in her own piss, though, she'll probably learn.'

'Finally,' Max said, 'she'll be made to beg for her proper tail. You've probably noticed that at the moment she doesn't have one. The one we've designed for her has a double fixing, in that it penetrates both her anus and her vagina. Both prongs are very large, so we'll have to insert them carefully and slowly. But the tail is magnificent, so it will be worth the discomfort she'll feel while wearing it. And then we'll bathe her, whip her hindquarters soundly to remind her to be well behaved, and she'll be ready for display at the Chatelaine's dinner party. I understand the entire High Council is here. I expect they'll be delighted with the Chatelaine's well-trained new pet.'

Jem and Olena exchanged a long look of mutual understanding. Olena's hand had not moved from between her thighs while Max and Ilsa had explained Jem's training programme. Olena's face was flushed, and her luscious lips were half open. It was clear that she wanted more than anything to undergo the humiliations of puppy training.

While Jem listened to the activities that were in store for her she had been watching Olena's face. Max's and Ilsa's words conjured up a series of images that Jem would have found daunting had she not been able to imagine seeing them through Olena's eyes. Now she couldn't wait to act as disgracefully as a young bitch on heat - and to be punished for it. Jem imagined Ilsa's whip flicking relentlessly into the soft flesh between her legs, and felt the trickle of juices inside her begin to seep from between her labia.

She was going to have fun.

Nothing seemed to have changed in the grand salon. The logs still blazed in the depths of the vast fireplace; the shuttered windows still admitted only thin shafts of pale light; the lamps still cast unsteady pools of yellow illumination. And the councillors were still there, ill at ease, standing in small groups with glasses in their hands or seated individually in chairs and on sofas, trying to concentrate on reading a book or simply staring into the flames of the fire.

The Chatelaine, resplendent in a tight-fitting gown of purple silk, was chatting to her guests, moving from group to group, flattering and charming them. Robert stood by the fireplace, his eyes darting expectantly to the main doors whenever he heard a sound.

The servants and slaves had little to do. The councillors were drinking abstemiously, and few called for their glasses to be refilled. A gathering of the High Council might usually be expected to provide a pretext for an orgy of licentiousness; on this occasion, however, few of the servants and slaves had been summoned to satisfy the councillors' whims. Here and there a naked body was to be seen kneeling in front of a seated male councillor, or half concealed under a female councillor's skirts; their movements were desultory, as if the councillors had simply forgotten to urge them on.

All this Nicole saw at a glance as she slipped through the gap between the tall doors. She beckoned Olena to follow her, and Olena, awed by the size of the salon and the number of richly drpssed guests in it, crept nervously into the room.

Take off your robe,' Nicole said.

Olena's hands hesitated on the fastenings. She glanced from side to side, as if to make sure that no one was looking at her.

'Come, Olena,' Nicole said. She really didn't understand what had come over the girl. 'You know you must be naked except when walking in the corridors. Remove your robe at once. Don't you want to show all these fine people how well your bottom has been punished? I've quite worn out my arm with smacking you, and I wouldn't want all that effort to be wasted.'

Nicole watched, entranced, as a dark blush spread rapidly across Olena's face and a light began to burn deep in her mahogany eyes. It was enough merely to mention to her a spanking, or showing off her body, and Olena's lickerishness overwhelmed her natural modesty. She was as wanton as she was beautiful, and she was ashamed of both characteristics, for neither of which she could be held responsible. It had occurred to Nicole that it might be unfair - perhaps even cruel - to play on Olena's sense of her own sinfulness in order to encourage her to believe that she needed discipline. But Olena took such illicit, shameful pleasure in being punished that it seemed crueller to deny her.

Now Olena was naked, and although she and Nicole had taken only a few steps into the room she had already attracted the attention of several of the councillors, who turned in their chairs or broke off desultory conversations in order to look at her.

'Nicole!' The Chatelaine's crystal voice rang across the room. 'You have brought our dear guest. Bring her to me, and I will show her to my colleagues on the council.'

Nicole gave Olena a reassuring smile, took her hand, and led her towards the Chatelaine who was with a group in the centre of the room.

'She's perfectly lovely,' the Chatelaine was saying as Nicole approached. 'So young and slender, and yet so generously endowed with feminine charms. I believe she defies the laws of gravity!'

There was polite laughter, which died quickly as Nicole pulled Olena into the circle of councillors. Nicole felt strangely proud, as if Olena were her protegee. The councillors could see for themselves that the Chatelaine had not exaggerated.

'Her name is Olena,' the Chatelaine said. 'She is from an isolated community that observes strict laws and morals. She has an acute sense of sin, and since we started to plumb the depths of her desires it has become very clear that she is thoroughly steeped in wickedness. We have undertaken to provide the discipline that she so sorely lacks, but so far we find that we merely uncover further layers of wilful lewdness. Olena, my dear, have you been punished today?'

Olena's head had sunk lower and lower as the Chatelaine had described her sins. Now she blinked back a tear and bravely looked up at the Chatelaine.

'Yes, thank you, madame,' she said. 'Nicole used a cane and then her hand on my bottom. I asked her to cane my breasts, too, but she told me to wait until later.' She glanced resentfully at Nicole.

'She was quite right,' the Chatelaine said. 'You will appreciate your punishments more if they are administered separately. Perhaps my guests would like to see you being caned; some of them might like to participate. We'll see if there's time for that, later. Now let us see your bottom.'

Olena's blush deepened. She stifled a sob, and turned to face away from the councillors. Nicole, who was by now very familiar with Olena's reactions, guessed that Olena was distressed because the thought of showing off her sore bottom had caused a surge of lewd arousal. She went to stand in front of Olena.

'You've only just been punished,' Nicole said, stroking Olena's face, 'and you're already having wicked thoughts again, aren't you?'

Olena's eyes were full of tears, but Nicole thought she detected in them a mischievous glint, as if she were aware of the role she was supposed to play. 'I'm so bad,' Olena said. She smiled slyly. 'I don't think you punished me hard enough, Nicole.'

'Well, Olena,' Nicole said, 'you are in a room full of disciplinarians. If we announce that you want a spanking I imagine it will be difficult to organise an orderly queue. Perhaps it would be better if we simply bring forward my caning of these.' She pressed her palms against Olena's perfect breast globes; she noticed that the nipples were already as hard as pebbles.

Olena smiled happily. 'I knew you'd see things my way,' she said. 'Please do it soon. I can hardly wait.'

'Lean forwards, please, Olena,' the Chatelaine said. Olena obeyed. Nicole moved to stand beside the Chatelaine, who was tracing with a fingertip the lines on Olena's buttocks. Nicole was pleased to note that her caning had left parallel, regularly spaced stripes; she knew the Chatelaine would approve.

'Good work, Nicole,' the Chatelaine said. 'I assume this is ten on each cheek horizontally, followed by ten vertically?'

'Yes, madame,' Nicole said. 'And then half a dozen more into the valley between. The marks aren't easy to differentiate, but I assure you they were hard enough.'

'Followed by a spanking,' the Chatelaine said. 'Very thorough.'

Several of the guests followed the Chatelaine's example and let their hands caress or pinch the reddened skin of Olena's bottom. Nicole noticed that Olena couldn't help squeezing her thighs together and squirming her hips.

'She is quite remarkable,' one of the councillors said. 'As you say, Chatelaine, she is young and slim and beautiful. And her arse is perfect: large, but high, round and resilient. Her skin is a lovely colour, and without blemish. And she has such a sweet nature. A eunuch would be tempted to spank her. She is irresistible.'

'You may spank her later,' the Chatelaine said. 'I still have to catechise her a little more. Tell me, Olena: while she was caning and spanking you, did Nicole touch you?'

Nicole heard Olena sigh. 'Yes, madame,' she said.

'Well, then,' the Chatelaine said, 'use your fingers to show us where Nicole touched you.'

Olena shuffled her feet apart and bent further forwards.

Nicole - and the Chatelaine and the councillors - could see the pendant, fleecy bulge of her sex, its split seam glistening with moisture. Olena's hand appeared, and cupped the bulge. Two fingers ventured to press against the seam, and seemed to draw back in surprise when they found the wetness and no barrier to entry. They slipped inside, and emerged slick with juice. The hand moved forwards slightly, and the fingers insinuated themselves into the seam at a higher point. Olena's hips started to writhe gently as her fingers moved.

T see,' the Chatelaine said. 'Stop now, girl. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?'

Olena stood straight and turned round with her hand to her mouth. It was clear that she was very ashamed: her face was scarlet, and her eyes were bright. 'I'm sorry, madame,' she said. 'I just can't seem to help it. I'm so wicked. I need lots and lots of discipline.'

The Chatelaine seemed delighted with Olena's tearful confessions, but Nicole found that once again she was suspicious. There could be no doubting Olena's enthusiasm for punishment, or the physical evidence of her intense arousal when smacked or made to feel ashamed in almost any way. But Nicole had thought that the Chatelaine and Robert were exploiting Olena, for their own amusement and to increase the prestige of the Chateau; now she was beginning to suspect that Olena was the one in control of the game.

'And what happened when Nicole touched you there?' the Chatelaine said.

Olena opened her mouth to reply, but she, like everyone in the salon, had become aware that the quiet hubbub of voices in the room was being replaced by a silence. It was as though a plain white sheet was being drawn across a colourful canvas. Soon the silence had covered everything, and Nicole's eyes, like those of everyone in the salon, were drawn to the seven uniformed figures standing as still as statues in front of the fireplace.