The man in the dark suit beside the front door of Oakley
Place wordlessly extended his hand. Jason Malliss dropped the ignition key of
the Jaguar into the upturned palm.
Behind him, the dark green bodywork of his car gleamed like polished
ebony in the harsh monochromatic light of the security lamps, which illuminated
the grounds around the house for a hundred yards in every direction. Malliss pushed the front door open and
stepped onto the chequered marble floor of a vast hallway, excited as always by
the prospect of the night ahead. A
second man, also wearing a dark suit, sat on a chair at the base of a wide
stone staircase. He rose as Malliss
approached and walked forward to meet him.
Above his head a chandelier cast shimmering ephemeral rainbows across
the famous, and infamous, faces preserved in oils around the walls of the hall.
"Good evening, sir," the man said.
"Evening, Barton," Malliss replied.
The man returned to his chair and Malliss took the stairs
two at a time. At the top, a long
carpeted hallway led away in both directions.
He turned to the right and made his way along to the end where a third
man sat, similarly attired to the other two.
"Good evening, Mr Malliss," the man said. "Mr Black asked me to inform you that he
would like the pleasure of your company before you leave this evening. He will be in his study at midnight."
Malliss nodded briefly, concealing his excitement at the
news. Could this be acceptance at
last? Full membership of the Brotherhood
with all of its accompanying benefits?
He opened the door beside the man and stepped into the room beyond.
Candlelight danced across oak panelling, casting shifting
shadows over the thick dark pile of the carpet and exaggerating the soft curves
of the two women who were there to await his arrival. Malliss recognised the faint strains of
Mozart playing through hidden speakers and allowed the music and the gentle
scent of sandalwood lacing the air to seep into his body and soothe the tension
in his muscles.
To one side of where he stood a woman was kneeling, her
hands folded in her lap, her face angled down to the floor. She was naked save for a wide steel band
around her neck, which was fastened at the front with a tiny brass
padlock. Beside her, folded neatly on
the floor, was a black robe and beside that a thick-handled leather
flogger. Her olive skin gleamed in the
wavering glow of the candlelight.
Malliss allowed his gaze to drift leisurely over the woman's body. On her left ankle the letter "K"
had been tattooed, no larger than a ten pence piece. Her breasts were small and pointed and the
nipples spread out in wide pools of dark chocolate. Her hair was black and long and had been tied
back in a severe ponytail to accentuate the hard curves of her high cheekbones.
The other woman was also naked but, unlike her fellow
slave, she was hanging from the ceiling by two chains fixed to thick leather
manacles around her wrists. The chains
pulled her arms up and apart, forcing her to the tips of her toes. Her breasts were large and round and milky
white. They were striped with angry red
weals where she had been whipped and similar weals decorated the soft pale
smoothness of her belly and thighs. Her
pubic region had been shaved and a steel ring gleamed in the shifting shadows
there. Around her head a strip of black
cloth had been tied to cover her eyes.
Somebody had written on her stomach, in what appeared to be blood, the
words "Hurt me".
Malliss quickly removed his clothes. As soon as he was naked the slave called K
rose and opened out the black robe for him.
He slipped his arms through the sleeves and tied the garment closed at
the front with the belt. K turned and
bent from the waist to reach the flogger.
From behind, the dark splayed lips of her pussy were clearly
exposed. She too wore a ring through the
fleshy hood over her clitoris and from the ring a long thin strap dangled
nearly to the floor. Malliss reached out
and pushed two fingers inside her. Instantly
she froze in position to make herself available for whatever he required. He pushed harder and her hands shot out in
front to steady herself against the wall.
Malliss frowned at her presumption and jammed his thumb into her anus,
wriggling it up and down to lever past the tight pink ring of muscle.
K looked down at her feet and struggled to relax as
Malliss' thick thumb invaded her, knowing that it would hurt more if her body
was tense. His other hand came around
and grasped her left breast, kneading it and tugging on the nipple, harder and
harder, stretching and pinching, rolling the stiffening flesh between thumb and
forefinger, making her gasp with pain.
The pain spread out from her chest, seeping through her body, gathering
in a tight ball in her stomach where slowly it transformed, as always, to lust,
before it spread farther down to her loins.
She found herself pushing back on the hand invading her twin holes and a
moan of pleasure escaped her lips.
Immediately the hand was withdrawn.
"Did I give you permission to enjoy this?" Malliss' voice was harsh and cruel.
K turned around quickly and fell to her knees at his
feet, pressing her face to the floor.
"No Master. I
am sorry. Master is so powerful and
handsome that I could not help myself."
"Are you saying then, that some of the Masters here
are not powerful and handsome?"
Malliss demanded. He stared down
at the back of the slave's head with an expression of cold fury but in reality
he was pleased by what she had said.
"No Master. Oh
please forgive me. I am just a stupid
slave. Please forgive me."
"Get up and hand me the whip," he said. "Then we will see how sorry you really
K obeyed hurriedly.
"Now go and lie down on your back between the other
slave's legs. You," he said,
looking for the tattoo on the suspended girl's ankle, "L, spread yourself
She obeyed as far as was possible, so that only the tips
of her big toes now touched the carpet.
Almost her entire weight was supported by her wrists and the tension in
her chest pulled her breasts high and far apart. A single tear ran out from beneath the
blindfold and trickled down her cheek.
Malliss felt his cock growing beneath the folds of his robe.
K lay down where he had instructed. Malliss bent and took hold of the loose end
of the thin leather strap tied to the ring between her legs. He pulled it up, tugging her fleshy hood taut
before passing the strap through the ring in L's pussy and tying it off. L struggled to lower herself to relieve the
pain but the chains binding her would not budge and the cuffs around her wrists
could slide no further.
Malliss placed one bare foot on K's stomach to prevent
her from arching her back and began to whip L across her breasts. The tails of the flogger were knotted at their
ends and where they struck they left vicious red weals. As the leather bit into her nipples she
screamed and began to twist and turn, hopping from foot to foot, confused by
the agony that assaulted her from above and below. With every jerky movement her labia were
stretched further and soon her screams turned to pleas for mercy.
"Please master, no more," she sobbed. "I beg you. I have been punished enough."
Malliss had no idea whether her claim was correct and
would not have cared if it was. Slaves
of the Brotherhood relinquished all rights to justice - their only purpose in
life was to pleasure their masters and Malliss enjoyed her pleading all the
more because of this. Smiling cruelly he
switched his attentions to the slave girl at his feet, striking her face and
chest, knowing that with the strap now binding the two women by their most
sensitive parts, they would each share the pain of the other. The knotted leather of the whip sliced across
her dark nipples, bruising them and beating them back into her tiny
breasts. She opened her mouth to scream
and Malliss brought the whip singing down through the air and smashing across
her lips. Blood erupted from the split
flesh and her scream died in a choking gurgle as she struggled to spit the hot,
salty liquid from her mouth. For several
minutes Malliss alternated between the two women, slashing first one and then
the other, his swollen cock bouncing up and down against his belly while he
worked and sweat pouring from his forehead.
Finally he dropped the whip and knelt down, his legs on
either side of K's head, facing the suspended slave. The latter was beautifully striped now across
her entire front and from her crotch the strap joining her to the woman beneath
stretched her skin so tightly that it was translucent. Without a word he lowered his buttocks over
K's face and was immediately rewarded with the hot probing sensation of her
tongue licking around his anus. He reached
forward and gently pulled the taut strap toward him. Tears ran from beneath L's blindfold in a
steady stream and her mouth fell open in a long silent scream. The tongue beneath him jabbed upwards and
entered his anus. He sighed contentedly. For a second he was tempted to direct L's
hand to his pulsing cock but he decided to be patient, knowing that the night
ahead would be a long one and so instead, after only a few minutes, he rose,
untied the strap binding the two women by their pussy rings and left them. As he opened the door leading from the room
into the Chamber he spoke without looking back.
"Make sure my suit is pressed and there's a clean
shirt waiting for me at midnight."
Then he walked on through into the Chamber. Behind him K struggled stiffly to her feet
and proceeded to release the sobbing L from her chains.
The BMW was almost completely hidden from the road by the
dense brambles that overhung the end of the farm track. Sara Malliss studied the entrance to Oakley
Place through binoculars, her lips pursed in anger. She had watched her husband's car turn off
the quiet country lane and pass between the gates of the mansion about an hour
earlier and since then had noted the registration number of every vehicle that
had gone in or out. There had been many. Something was happening in there and it
certainly wasn't the game of cards with a few friends that Jason had claimed
when he'd begun these evening forays over six months before. Sceptical by nature, she had at first
suspected him of having an affair, now she wasn't so sure. Not one of the cars entering or leaving had
been driven by a woman. Of course it was
possible he was having an affair with a man but Sara thought this highly
unlikely, having spent the last two years of their marriage spurning his
demands for increasingly aggressive and degrading sex.
She punched some numbers on her mobile phone. The voice of her PA answered promptly.
"Janet," Sara said. "I want to find out the names of some
people from their car registration numbers.
Can you get that kind of information?"
"It'll take about half an hour," Janet replied
confidently. She prided herself on her
ability to unearth almost any fact in a fraction of the time that it would take
a professional investigator.
Sara read out the registration numbers and hung up. Knowing the time that he was accustomed to
getting home after these weekly trips she estimated that Justin would not leave
Oakley Place until after midnight. She
wanted to see with whom he would leave, if anybody, and that meant that she had
four hours to kill. She did not plan to
spend that time sitting in the darkness in her car and so decided to find a
local pub and sit out the evening in comfort.
Somebody there might even know something about the goings-on at Oakley
The BMW slipped out on to the lane and cruised away toward
the village of Bartford, about three miles to the north. Sara drove fast through the clear night,
angry with Jason for his duplicity and annoyed at the time she was being forced
to waste checking up on him. She was a
rich and powerful businesswoman who ran a successful software company during
the week. She certainly did not plan to
become a victim of her husband's deception at the weekend.
The Chamber was the largest of a suite of rooms occupying
the entire first floor of the west wing of Oakley Place and it had been
decorated with comfort and discretion equally in mind. Leather chesterfield sofas were arranged in
groupings of three around low tables and the lighting was such that the faces
of the occupants of these sofas were kept always in shadow. Sweet apple logs burned and crackled in four
fireplaces, adding to the sense of peaceful tranquillity. A female slave was assigned to each table to
bring drinks and food when required and to wait in silence when it was
not. It was an unwritten rule of the
Brotherhood that the slaves performing these functions were not to be whipped
by members or taken from the Chamber to any of the many punishment rooms until
the period of their service was complete.
In this way everybody was kept properly refreshed and content whilst
they enjoyed the ambience and conviviality of the room. It was also an unwritten rule that all
punishments should be undertaken in the adjoining punishment rooms, which were
soundproofed and well equipped. Wall
lamps were fixed beside each door, appearing to be part of the Chamber's
overall lighting but in fact were used to identify those rooms that were vacant
and those that were not. A lit lamp
signified that the punishment room was in use and that those inside did not
wish to be disturbed.
The carpet was soft and silent beneath Malliss' feet as
he entered the Chamber from the anteroom.
"Malliss!" a voice called across the room.
He recognised it as belonging to Jacob Bernstein, a
diamond dealer who spent most of his life shuttling between Antwerp and
London. Malliss waved and walked over to
where Bernstein was sitting. Another man
that Jason did not know lounged beside Bernstein. The pair were dressed identically in the
black robes of the Brotherhood and they were examining a slave. Like K, she was naked save for a steel
collar. Bernstein had made her bend over
and she was holding her ankles so that they could more closely examine her
"See what I mean," Bernstein was saying to his
friend, pushing a thick finger between her buttocks. "A hole that size would positively
circumcise a man." He laughed
"Hardly something you would need to worry
about," the other man replied dryly.
Malliss sat down and a dark-haired slave appeared in
front of him and knelt at his feet. She
wore a leather harness consisting of just two straps which formed a cross over
her breastbone. One strap stretched down
from the collar, passed between her legs, and continued back up to a D-ring on
the rear of the collar. Woven through
this strap, the second was wrapped tightly around her chest, like a tailor's
measuring tape. This leather band, no
more than an inch wide, almost covered her small perfectly round nipples and
squashed her breasts back onto her ribcage so that the firm fleshy orbs were
divided into bulging quadrants.
"Malliss, meet Frank Tomlinson," Bernstein
The two men shook hands.
"Frank has just been telling me about Black's latest
toy. Sounds like quite a cracker and
apparently tonight at last he has a victim worthy of it."
"Sounds fascinating," Malliss said, his eyes
drifting over the naked buttocks of the slave that stood, still clutching her
ankles and patiently awaiting further instructions. This one had been shaved too and her
prominent pussy lips were clearly visible from where he sat.
He glanced down at the slave-girl in the harness at his
feet. The only purpose of the leather
straps was to identify the wearer as a Chamber servant and therefore as a slave
not to be taken for punishment. Of
course it would be a different matter if the girl was to misbehave in any way
but while she performed her duties in the correct subservient and submissive
way without any mistakes or any hints of subversion she was not to be beaten.
He reached down and tugged on the strap leading down from
her collar. It was so tight that it
seemed to burrow into her vulva and any extra tension had the effect of mashing
her clitoris back onto the pubic bone.
She looked up.
"Bring me a whisky and soda," Malliss said.
"Yes master," the girl rose gracefully to her
feet and turned to do his bidding.
"What about this one?" He said, nodding at the other slave, "I
don't recognise her. Is she new?"
"Fresh in this week," Bernstein said. "I was just explaining to Tomlinson here
that she must still be a virgin."
He chuckled, reaching out to finger her tight anus once more.
"Mind if I take a look?" Malliss said.
"Go ahead, old chap," Bernstein replied,
slapping the girl's backside playfully.
"Come here," Malliss said softly.
Hesitatingly the girl straightened and turned toward
him. He beckoned her impatiently. She was tall and lithe and extremely
beautiful. Her breasts were smallish and
firm and rode high on her chest with tight dark nipples that were solidly erect
in their puckered aureoles. Long black
hair hung loosely about her shoulders.
She took two steps toward Malliss and then waited while he examined
her. From his seated position he ran his
hands down her flanks then turned her sideways and did the same to her stomach
and back, feeling the strength and fluidity of the muscles. Her buttocks tightened beneath his touch and
the skin grew faintly goose-bumped. A
sweet heady perfume mixed in the air about her with a faint musk and Malliss
noted the dampness around the silver ring piercing her labia.
"What is your name?" he said. The girl was silent.
"No English," Bernstein explained. "Not yet at least. Comes from somewhere in the Middle East, I
believe. Her letter is X."
All of the girls were given a letter when they arrived at
the Brotherhood. This letter was
tattooed on their left ankle and as there were rarely more than twenty slaves
in residence at one time, it was sufficient to identify each one.
The servant girl returned with Malliss' drink and as he
took a sip, a faint buzzing sounded from hidden speakers set into the walls of
the room. Bernstein rose immediately.
"That's the signal," he said, excitedly. "Let the games begin."
The three men followed the fifteen or so others filing
through a doorway at one end of the Chamber into a larger space where chairs
had been arranged in a semicircle around a raised dais. Malliss indicated to X that she should follow
and when he took his place she knelt down between his feet, facing toward the
"So, what is Black's new toy?" he asked
"Wait and see," the other man replied. "It's going to be great. A slave was spotted talking to a stranger in
the pub at Bartley village. Some nosy
woman asking questions about this place, I believe. Black has said that the slave did not reveal
anything of our activities here but of course she must be taught a lesson all
Malliss nodded in agreement.
"What was she doing in the damned pub in the first
"Sent to fetch some Scotch, I believe. The landlord is a personal friend of
Black's. He was the one that noticed the
girl talking to this woman and raised the alarm." Bernstein was rubbing his hands together in
At that moment a girl was marched into the room by two
masked men. The spectators ceased their
talking and watched in silence. Both the
masked men wore black capes and gloves.
The slave was naked save for her steel collar and a velvet bag that had
been placed over her head and drawn tightly closed at the neck. Her body was thin, too thin, Malliss thought,
and her breasts were small and dominated by wide pale nipples. Prominently rounded, her shaved vulva was
clearly silhouetted between the tops of her thighs as she came through the
doorway. No fresh whip marks disrupted
the alabaster of her flesh, suggesting that Black had restrained himself,
ensuring that her tender body would be free of blemishes for its sacrifice on
the altar of his new toy. Rope bound her
wrists behind her back and two steel rings piercing her nipples glinted gold in
the soft yellow light of the room.
On the dais there was a flat copper bar, about three feet
long and six inches wide, which stood on two rubber mounts that raised it a
foot off the floor. Six feet above this
was another, identical bar, which hung from the ceiling by two chains that were
clipped around rubber sleeves, which had been slid over the ends of the
bar. Two thick bare electric cables hung
loosely from the middle of this bar.
Other cables snaked away from the ends of both of the copper bars, but
these were insulated and led to a black box at the front of the stage.
The slave, blinded by her hood, was helped up onto the
lower bar and while she stood there trembling with fear, one of the men hopped
up next to her and fed the two bare wires through the rings in her
nipples. Adeptly he bent back the loose
ends and used a pair of pliers to close tiny steel clips over the wires close
to the nipple rings, thus preventing them from sliding back out. Immediately there was a low hum and the
chains bearing the upper bar began to recede smoothly into the ceiling. The slave's breasts were pulled up into two
cones of pale flesh, her nipples stretched tautly until they had more than
doubled in length before the hum ceased.
The girl began to sob quietly. Malliss'
cock was rock hard beneath his robe and he shuffled forward in his seat so that
the warmth of X's back pressed against its throbbing head. She remained perfectly still. He rested his hands on her shoulders and dug
his fingertips into the cavities beneath her collarbones, causing her to gasp
in surprised pain. Her body remained
motionless, however, and Malliss found himself intrigued by her control.
One of the masked men undid the drawstring at the base of
the slave-girl's hood and slid the covering from her head. She blinked fearfully around the room, tears
glistening on her cheeks. Her eyes were
red and puffed and strands of damp blonde hair stuck to her face. There was a sigh of pleasure in the room as
the waiting men took in her expression of terror.
Now the second masked man wordlessly crouched down beside
the black box on the floor and flicked a switch. There was a loud click and another soft
hum. The audience held their collective
breath in anticipation. The man twisted
a dial and the girl straightened like a puppet on a string. Her mouth opened in surprised pain as
electricity began to tingle through her body, passing upward from her feet to
her nipples where it escaped through the wires clipped to the rings. She rose up on her toes and hopped uselessly
from foot to foot.
Malliss immediately realised the exquisite nature of the
torture machine. When the voltage across
the two bars became unbearably high the victim would be forced to step off the
copper platform and thus suspend herself by her nipples, which would of course
bring an entirely different but equally extreme agony. This in turn could only be relieved by
stepping back onto the copper and exchanging one torment for another. Malliss' grip on X's shoulders increased in
intensity and a faint moan of pain escaped her lips again. Still, though, she did not flinch.
The man beside the black box turned his masked face to
the audience, holding his hand poised above the dial. A murmur rolled around the room as the men's
excitement grew. The hand dipped and the
dial revolved and the blonde girl screamed.
Both of her feet came off the copper bar as she leapt upwards and
suddenly the room was flooded with the smell of ozone and the crackle of
electricity. Malliss leaned forward and
placed the palm of his hand over X's mouth, trapping her head in the crook of
his arm and holding it firmly against his tense stomach muscles. His other hand dipped and found her nipple,
which he began to squeeze with all of his considerable strength. At last X moved. She came alive in his arms like a landed fish
but his grip was unyielding and her yells of pain were silenced by the seal of