1 comments/ 17167 views/ 3 favorites Laura and the Impaler By: Calandria Everyone in this fantasy is over eighteen, and so should you be! I originally thought to post this in ' erotic horror' but my previous effort in that category seems to have had little response. Anyway, this is longer – I hope it holds together and is a bit of fun. Laura Crane considered herself a normal enough young woman. She was twenty two, and worked in the computer department of a major City bank, earning a good salary, which enabled her to run a car, to wear good clothes, and to go on nice holidays. She had had a few boy-friends, attracted by her slender body and pretty face, framed by a cascade of long, very blonde hair. None had lasted, and, to tell the truth, she wasn't sure what she wanted in that department, anyway. She had found herself attracted to both sexes, almost equally, in recent years, and, although she had yet to sample Sapphic love, she knew there would come a time…… That, however, is another story, and it was an interest of Laura's well outside the realms of romance that concerned her as she scanned the newspapers one Sunday morning in her dockside apartment. Her eyes lit on an announcement which set her mind racing:- Laura and the Impaler Velda Turner spoke up. 'I'm not an actress. I've never done any acting. How do I learn in……., well, in no time at all?' 'There will be very little acting involved,' he said, then, 'tomorrow morning, we'll take a tour of the castle. We meet in the entrance hall at ten. OK?' Ilona now stood and said, 'Coffee will be served in the library.' She waved her arm in the direction we all had to follow to find the library, where big sofas and coffee tables were arranged on a parquet floor, with scattered Turkish rugs. Laura watched all the people as they chatted about the Doctor's announcement, and was just thinking herself a little apart from the rest when she realised that Myra was speaking to her. She was leaning over the back of the sofa that Laura was sitting on, he hand idly stroking Laura's hair, her cheek close enough for Laura to be able to smell her delicate fragrance, her unfettered breast just touching Laura's shoulder through the thin, soft silk of her dress. 'What on earth did you make of that?' she was asking, and Laura had to compose herself before answering, noticing that Jakob, sat opposite, had a hint of a smile on his face, and was watching his wife intently. Laura instinctively reached up and took Myra's long-fingered hand in hers, and said, 'I don't know, really – but there's something about this place. Do you feel it too?' 'Yes, darling, I do. We'll talk later, shall we? Now I must join Jakob – he looks like a lost puppy!' She gave a meaningful squeeze of Laura's hand, and went over to sit with her husband, but no sooner had she sat down, than she beckoned to Laura to join them, and moved apart from Jakob to make room between them. 'But I don't want to intrude!' said Laura. 'Don't be silly, darling,' said Myra, 'Jakob says you're not to sit on your own, and I agree!' She squeezed in between them on the overstuffed sofa, acutely aware that Jakob had only to glance sideways to see one of her breasts – somehow it didn't matter. He was talking, though. 'Myra says you find the atmosphere exciting?' 'I don't know. It's all to do with old films, and, well, the mystery of our arrival here. I had this image, when I put on the nightgown………it's silly, really.' 'What, being ravaged, or tortured, that sort of thing?' 'That sort of thing, yes.' Just talking about it, sat between these beautiful people, there she was, getting all wet again, and she sensed that her breathing had quickened involuntarily. Now, simultaneously, Myra had her hand on Laura's knee, just moving it slowly, ever so slowly, in the very beginnings of a stroking motion, up her thigh, whilst Jakob had snaked his arm around her shoulders, and his hand had crept down inexorably towards her breast, so that the tips of his fingers were just flicking the very point of her nipple through her dress. 'I think it's all very exciting too, don't you, darling?' said Jakob. 'Mmm,' replied his wife, and Laura put her hand over hers, encouraging her, guiding her further up her slim thigh. Jakob glanced around at the other guests, and said, 'Perhaps we'd better go to our room, don't you think?' 'Unless we want an audience,' said Myra, softly, 'but hadn't we better ask Laura?' 'There's nothing I'd like more,' said Laura, draining her apricot liqueur. They got up as one, and several pairs of eyes followed them as they made for the door, the women's heels clicking sharply on the wooden floor. When they got to the Epstein's room, identical to Laura's, she felt a slight attack of panic coming on. This lovely woman attracted her, true, and her gorgeous husband – well! But she had never touched another woman's body, never in her life, and, more than anything, she was ashamed that her inexperience would show – she simply didn't know what to do. But as they got in the room, Jakob closed the door behind them, and said, 'I'll go and shower, OK?', and Myra, who had preceded Laura into the room, swept her heavy auburn mane away from her neck, and said, 'Untie me, darling, will you?' With slightly trembling fingers, Laura flipped open the bow which secured the halter-neck of Myra's dress, and, lifting the two ends over her shoulders, cupped her naked girlish breasts with both hands. She thrilled at their firmness, and teased her nipples to long, hard buds. 'Laura, darling, that's wonderful!' breathed Myra, 'you can do that for as long as you like.' 'It's……..it's the first time, for me,' said Laura, hesitantly. 'I hope you don't think I'm a hardened old dyke,' said Myra, shrugging away for long enough to turn around and face her. 'Of course not!' said Laura, 'I just thought, the moment I saw you at the airport, that you were the most beautiful couple I'd ever seen in my life!' Myra took Laura's head in her hands and kissed her full on the mouth, finding the other woman's lips pliable and succulent, her tongue darting into Myra's eager mouth, probing, as she pressed her slim body against Myra's, fumbling desperately to push open the front of her dress, so that their naked breasts would be in contact. Suddenly, she felt strong hands pulling the dress from her shoulders, then down over her hips, leaving her naked except for her stilettos. Glancing round, she saw that Jakob had come padding out of the bathroom, a white towel around his waist, his hair glistening wet. He was now pulling down the zipper of his wife's tight skirt. In no time, she too was naked, and Laura gasped at her magnificence. She had long, elegant, athlete's legs, and a completely clean-shaven pubis. She lay back on the bed, letting Laura look at her. She wore the finest of gold chains around her slender waist, somehow emphasising her nakedness. 'Do you like me?' she asked, teasingly, letting a hand wander between her legs, stroking her pussy-lips, as if it were an unconscious act. 'I think you are marvellous,' said Laura, feeling just a bit ordinary in this Goddess's company. 'Come here, let me have a look at you,' said Myra, holding a hand out towards her, and Laura let herself be pulled to kneel beside her on the bed. 'You're beautiful too,' she said, 'tomorrow you must let me shave you, but you are lovely, you know.' Laura found herself reddening at Myra's praise, and had almost forgotten Jakob, until suddenly he was beside her, kneeling on the bed. Boldly, she pulled the towel away from his midriff, and his long, circumcised cock stood proudly out above the horizontal, rock-hard when she encircled it gently with her hand. But Myra was impatient to have Laura's attention, and, putting an arm around her neck, directed her head down between her legs, which she obligingly parted, wide, wide apart, so that the sweet wetness of her gaping pink cunt was lewdly displayed. Laura sought her vagina, plunged her tongue into its innermost depths, pushing as hard as she could to enter her, and at the same time, found Myra's insistent clit, poking out from its hood. She pinched it between her fingers, and Myra cried out, pulling Laura bodily into a '69' position. She heard Jakob say, 'Open her for me, my love!' Myra skilfully parted Laura's labia, lapped her with a knowing tongue, stimulating Laura's eager little bud, but not going beyond that, until Laura was on the point of begging her to penetrate her, then she sensed that Jakob had climbed up between her legs, and she felt him slowly start to thrust at the very portal of her waiting, impatient cunt, the very crown of his cock making its presence felt. He was immensely experienced, and when he penetrated her to the hilt, it was as if she had never been fucked before. 'Oh!' she cried, as he rammed his entire length into her, and she responded by gripping him with power she hardly knew she possessed, in the muscles of her vagina, sending him into paroxysms of delight with each stroke, as she alternately gripped and released him. 'I'm going to have to cum!' he shouted, and it didn't matter, because, both women were, by now, close enough. Myra said quietly, 'My arsehole, darling, my arsehole!', and Laura diverted her attention from the sweetness of her cunt for long enough to thrust a long forefinger hard up the Jewess's rectum, whilst, as she felt Jakob stiffen and pump his seed deep within her, he poked his finger into her own virgin, puckered hole, in a completely new, painful, shatteringly exciting experience. She almost blacked out with the sheer power of the orgasm which engulfed her. 'Oh, Jakob!' was all she could say, and they all collapsed in an exhausted heap. When she had recovered sufficiently to speak, she said, in a slightly accusatory tone, 'You hurt me, then!' 'I know,' said Jakob, 'but we can prepare you, if you want. You'll know pleasures you've never even dreamt of.' As he spoke, Myra was caressing her breasts, kissing her lightly, and she found herself slowly becoming aroused once more. Suddenly, Jakob was kneeling beside her, his semi-erect weapon in his hand. She took it from him and licked the tip with her long tongue, then inserted it between her luscious lips. He hardened instantly, as she looked up into his eyes, then took him deep into her throat, as Myra transferred her attentions to Laura's still soaking cunt, dripping with Jakob's cum. She lapped her hungrily, bringing moans of delight from Laura as she sucked hard on Jakob's long organ, but then he was ready, and Myra knelt on the bed, her head on the pillow, and spread her arse-cheeks wide with both hands, presenting the dark tunnel of her arsehole to her husband, who, kneeling up behind her, speared her with one rapid thrust, causing her to gasp and writhe as he buried his cock right up to the hilt, and drove in and out, while Laura moved under her and found she could lick Jakob's balls and Myra's cunt with one long movement of her tongue. Laura felt another massive orgasm welling up within her as she heard Myra's breathing reaching crisis point, and Jakob's strokes approaching their inevitable finale. She could hold it off no longer, and abandoned herself to its wild pleasure, as the other two came copiously, Jakob gushing into her bowels, Myra groaning like an animal as she knew release. When, afterwards, they lay together, Jakob promised Laura he would initiate her gently into the anal joys his wife so clearly loved, and Myra allayed any doubts she may have had, telling her that now it was the only way she could find true ecstasy. Laura then went back to her own room, even though she knew they wouldn't have minded her staying the night. She wanted time alone now, time to think, but as soon as her head touched the pillow, she was fast asleep, and slept until the sun streamed through the narrow Gothic window. When she looked out of the window, the sun was already peeping through the tops of the pines, but she saw to her relief that it was still only eight fifteen, so she still had time for a quick shower and a hunt for some breakfast before their designated meeting at ten. She slipped into a cotton print dress, gave her hair a quick brush, grimaced at her image in the mirror, and went in search of breakfast. It was being served in a little annexe off the main banqueting hall, and, looking around for a vacant place, she saw Velda Turner alone at a small table, and asked if she might join her. The other woman smiled nicely and pushed out the chair for her to sit down, then, whilst coffee and roll were being served, indicated discreetly with a roll of her eyes a corner table, where the sultry Ilona and Lavinia Hanson were sitting. Even from this distance, she could see that Ilona had her hand up Lavinia's short skirt, and was moving it gently up and down. The blonde's mouth was open, her head tilted slightly back, her fists clenched, one of them screwing up a serviette. 'That's a bit hard to take, at breakfast-time,' said Laura. 'Turn you on, does it?' asked Velda, her hazel eyes showing a twinkle of something that might have been amusement. Laura was reluctant to answer, but Velda saw from her expression that she was affected by the scene, and smiled. She really was very pretty, thought Laura, her flawless complexion framed by soft dark brown shoulder-length hair, and, for the first time, Laura realised as she watched the other girl eat her breakfast, that she had a silver stud in her tongue. Involuntarily, she caught herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. 'Laura!' she thought, 'what is going on? Are you turning into a raving Lesbian?' She put it down to the atmosphere at the Castle, and finishing her breakfast as quickly as she could, hurried off to her room, put finishing touches to her make-up, put a thin jacket on over her dress, and made her way to the entrance hall for the ten o'clock rendezvous. The whole group was already there when she got down, with the exception of the Epsteins, who arrived a minute or two later, both acknowledging her with a friendly peck on the cheek. Laura was happy to see that almost all the women had opted for summer dresses, or miniskirts and blouses, so that she didn't feel out of place. The sole exception was Madhuri, who was magnificent in her traditional sari, this one scarlet and gold. Dr White asked for silence, and then told them they were going on a tour of the Castle, as promised. He led them through various chambers, including suites where allegedly Kings of Romania had stayed, and all the usual things you would expect from a great castle. He showed them a big modern glass atrium extended from the west wing, where a free-form swimming pool, surrounded by tropical palms looked inviting. Then they descended a long twisting stone corridor, down, down into the dank, cold bowels of the earth. Laura shuddered, but her excitement piqued, as they entered the vast dungeons, with their many chambers, lit by flickering torches in iron brackets. Laura saw that, in front of her, the Epsteins were huddled together closely, and she herself felt Velda slip her arm through hers, needing to be close in the cold, clammy atmosphere. Soon she had Madhuri at her other side, the three of them clinging to each other as Dr White described the terrors of the place. And terrors there were in plenty. As they descended further, the walls bore iron ringbolts, from many of which hung chains, with wrist-cuffs at their ends. Set lower were ankle restraints. The stone walls behind them were clearly bloodstained from the hundreds of victims who had passed this way. Then there were the machines. Dr White showed them the racks, not omitting one which spread the victim apart laterally while the torturer impaled her (usually a female, he said, grimly) at his pleasure. They moved on to the braziers, where irons for branding still reposed, as if waiting for future victims. Then he showed them the 'Iron Maidens.' What Laura hadn't realised was that they weren't all designed to kill. The most fiendish ones certainly did, with awful spikes, which, when the apparatus was closed, simply impaled the body and head of the victim, resulting in a horrible death. But there were others which had much shorter spikes. Dr White explained that unfaithful wives were placed naked in them, and when they were shut in, the myriad spikes perforated the skin of the woman, causing her unspeakable agony. She was left there sometimes for days of terrible torture, to repent her ways. He showed them no less than five different models. He also showed them various whips, canes and floggers that had been used on the victims. During all this time, Velda had gripped Laura's arm tightly, and, whether it was her nearness, that of Madhuri at her other side, or the contemplation of these awful instruments of torture, or a combination of all of them, Laura found herself getting embarrassingly wet. What was more, when she squirmed just a little, in the sort of feminine gesture a woman can often hide, she knew Velda had noticed, because she glanced sideways at Laura, the very tip of her tongue, with its arcane stud, just momentarily flicking out from between her pretty lips. Laura smiled back. Over a light lunch in the same place where they had breakfasted, Velda said, 'There was something about all that, down there, wasn't there?' 'What do you mean?' asked Laura. 'I think you know.' Velda was watching her intently now, and she nodded. The Epsteins were wrapped up in each other, and Madhuri was sitting with Sandra. Ilona was again occupying a corner table with Lavinia, stroking the back of her hand on top of the table. There was an undeniable atmosphere of sexual tension, which might have been why Laura didn't make any move to remove her knee when she felt it brush against Velda's, under the table. Neither did the brunette move her leg away – rather she pushed it gently but firmly against Laura's, and looked a question at her, lips just slightly apart. The moment broke as their meal was served, but there was a bond between them, Laura could feel, and she liked the sensuous feel of their bare knees rubbing slowly together as they ate, their eyes seldom leaving each other. Dr White stood up at the far side, and tapped a glass for attention, then announced that they were all welcome to use the 'tropical garden pool' for the afternoon. 'Do you want to do that?' asked Laura. 'Why not?' said Velda, 'see you there in half an hour or so?' 'Yeah, perhaps we can continue our conversation – you know, about the dungeon?' Velda just smiled, and stroked Laura's arm as she stood to leave. There was something about her touch that made Laura uncomfortable, but, at the same time, made her yearn for more – and that tongue-stud was……well, it was simply erotic. Back in her room, Laura stripped, throwing her damp panties in the laundry bag, then, on a whim, she decided to do what Myra had promised to do to her, all by herself. There was a plastic razor in the bathroom, as well as a sachet of shaving cream. She lathered herself as thoroughly as possible, and then took infinite care to remove every vestige of hair from her pussy. She didn't have very much anyway, as she had been accustomed to wearing a bikini for years, but now she carefully worked all around her labia, and, using a hand-mirror, right up into the crack of her arse, until she was satisfied that she was as smooth as a ten-year-old. As an experiment, she slipped her cotton dress back on, and practised walking up and down the room without panties. She admitted to herself that it felt lovely, and decided there and then that she would go out like that at her first opportunity. She suddenly realised that time was passing, and squealed when she looked at her watch. It was already nearly forty five minutes since she had promised to be at the pool in half an hour. Wriggling into a minimal white string bikini, and slipping a towelling robe over it, she stepped into a pair off mules, and went down to the west wing atrium. As she approached, she saw that all the guest were laying around in bathing costumes already, so she slid the robe off, and carried it over her shoulder, looking for Velda. She didn't have far to look. Velda was reclining on a sunbed close to the water's edge, reading what appeared to be an account of medieval torture. She put it down as Laura approached. 'Sorry I took so long,' said Laura, then did a double-take, when she noticed that Velda was topless, but also that one of her nipples was pierced, and bore a small silver ring. Her breasts were quite small and pointed, retaining their shape as she lay back on the bed. 'It's rude to stare,' she said, smiling at Laura. 'Oh, Velda, I didn't mean to, it's just that…..well, you're so lovely!' 'I think you're beautiful too,' said Velda, 'aren't you going to lie down?' Laura and the Impaler Laura climbed onto the sunbed Velda had saved for her, and picked up the booklet she had put down. There were pictures of young women, chained to the walls, being whipped and branded, of others being spread apart on the rack and sodomised, and of yet more being placed in what she now knew were versions of the 'iron maiden.' Laura turned the pages, feeling a terrible fascination, and knew that Velda was watching her. She felt herself colouring up under the other woman's scrutiny. 'Well?' asked Velda. 'Well – what?' 'Turns you on, doesn't it?' 'I….I don't know, I really don't!' Velda looked around to see that no-one was taking any notice of them. They were, to all intents and purposes, hidden between stands of palm-trees. Without warning, she put a questing hand between Laura's legs, right up into the crotch of her flimsy bikini. 'You're soaking wet, darling,' she said, 'there are some things you can't hide.' So saying, she put the hand to her mouth and sucked it, tasting Laura's sweetness. 'I came down here for a swim,' said Laura, 'but I don't think I have the strength now!' 'Come on,' said Velda, 'let's go to my room, we can swim later.' When they were alone together, Laura had the sudden thought that, before last night she had never been with another woman – and here she was jumping into bed with a second one. But before she had time to give the matter any thought, Velda had untied the strings of her bikini, and she was completely naked, the more so, it seemed, because she was now clean-shaven. When Velda stepped out of her panties, she too was devoid of any pubic hair, and Laura saw than she had yet another piercing, a silver ring through her perforated clitoris. She lay back on the bed, legs apart, proud of her silverware, and invited Laura to toy with it, bringing a little 'ooh' from her lips when she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. 'Do you like me?' asked Velda, her face serious. 'I think I might be in love with you, just a little,' said Laura, 'and I really want you to kiss me. I want to feel your stud in my mouth, and in other places, too.' She wriggled up the bed, and kissed Velda on her luscious lips, loving the feel of the stud as it darted into her mouth, her juices responding. 'Now let me kiss your cunt,' said Velda, and flipped over, pulling Laura's slim legs apart. Laura felt the new sensation of the little stud flicking her clit, driving her wild, and when the other girl's tongue shot deep into her steaming wet cunt, she bucked and stiffened as she was engulfed by the tidal wave of a massive orgasm. 'God, you came a storm!' said Velda, coming up for air, and Laura lapped the other girl's pussy for all she was worth to try and repay her, drawing a lot of little 'oohs' and 'aahs' from Velda, who stroked Laura's hair as her tongue ran up and down her crack. But even though she made Velda gasp when she seized the silver clit ring in her teeth, an orgasm wasn't coming any closer, and she looked up into Velda's hooded, hazel eyes, and saw she was smiling. 'What can I do to make you come?' she asked. 'You mean you don't know?' said Velda, teasing her now. 'No, but I want to please you,' said Laura. 'Then you'll have to hurt me,' said Velda, simply. 'Hurt you? You mean…..' 'I mean really hurt me, darling. If you want me to have an orgasm –see me cum, then you'll have to whip me, whip me hard! Think you can do that?' 'I…..I don't know. I've never done anything like that before, I mean…….' 'I'll understand if you don't want to, but I think you are turned on by punishment, too, aren't you, darling?' 'You mean, you really like being whipped?' persisted Laura. 'Come with me,' said Velda, skipping off the bed, and going into the bathroom. Laura followed, and Velda turned on the bright lights over the vanity unit, then angled her shoulders to catch the light. 'Look carefully,' she said, and Laura saw the unmistakeable, fading ladder marks of punishment on her back. 'Who did that to you?' she asked. 'My Master,' said Velda, her eyes filling with tears, as she turned away, 'he was killed in a road accident next day.' 'Oh, darling, I'm so sorry,' said Laura, and Velda told her it had happened two month before. She had booked the holiday in an effort to help her get over him. 'You loved him so much, even though he whipped you?' 'I loved him because he whipped me, darling – I can't ask you to understand. I just wanted to serve him, be his slave. I think I would have died for him.' 'Such love,' said Laura, 'makes me envious! I know it's been taken from you, but I've never known such a love.' 'Do you know what you're saying, Laura?' asked Velda, smiling slightly now, 'that you're envious of my cruel punishment? Is that what you really mean?' 'I…I…don't know – I guess I'm confused,' stuttered Laura, taking Velda's hand in hers, 'I don't know what I think!' 'Come here!' said Velda, and took Laura's head between her hands, seeking her lips hungrily with her own. Laura responded with equal eagerness, her lips open to allow Velda's studded tongue to dart within. They were still both naked, and Velda backed into the bedroom again, gently pulling Laura with her. Without a word, she went to the open wardrobe, and pulled a thin leather belt from the loops of a pair of jeans hanging there. She double the flexible leather into a loop in her hand, and passed it to Laura, who just looked at it, her mouth open. 'You want me to tie you up with this?' 'No, darling, I want you to flog me with it.' 'But, Velda, I couldn't, really I couldn't!' 'Of course you can. Don't you want me to cum?' Velda was looking at her almost beseechingly, then she turned abruptly, dropped to her knees in front of the bed, and swept her dark mane of hair over her shoulder, exposing the sweep of her naked back. She put her hands behind her head, and half-turned to look at Laura, from under hooded eyelids, her eyes smoky and full of desire, her lips slightly apart, almost pouting, her breathing shallow. Laura knew what she had to do, although she had never contemplated such a thing in her life. Yes, she had fantasised about being on the receiving end, at least wondered What it would be like, and, if she was truthful, she had been turned on in that dungeon, but inflicting pain herself……….! She was holding the belt, nevertheless, and Velda wanted, no, demanded it! Not wishing to let her new friend down, she flicked her across the lower back with the makeshift leather strap. 'Oh, please!' said Velda, 'I mean it, you know, Laura. I want you to hurt me. A lot!' Laura could see there was no getting out of this, and, drawing her arm back, brought the thin belt whistling through the air to land with a sharp crack on Velda's pale back, just below her shoulder blades. Although a double red line appeared instantly where the belt had struck, Velda neither cried out nor flinched, and Laura knew she had to strike her even harder. Lower down she lashed her, this time raising an angry red wheal on the fleshier part of her back, and causing her to emit a little gasp. Laura was warming to the task, in spite of herself, and drew a pattern across Velda's pretty buttocks, red stripes now forming with each vicious blow, and Velda's moans could mean only one thing. 'One more! One more, my darling!' she yelled, and Laura whipped her hard across her upper thighs. She pulled Laura onto her, causing her to drop the belt, and Laura felt Velda's whole body convulse as she had the most tumultuous orgasm in creation. 'Oh, thank you, thank you, Laura. That was my first for a very long time,' she said. 'I don't know about you, but I need a shower and a rest before I get ready for dinner.' Three hours later, Laura wandered into the banqueting hall earlier than she had intended, and checked herself in the mirror at the entrance. She felt pleased with her appearance, in a silky, dark green, knee-length, halter-neck, cocktail-dress she had bought for the holiday. Her unfettered breasts jiggled prettily as she moved, and the feel of her naked pussy, so recently the recipient of so much excitement, was new, strange and thrilling to her. Almost immediately Velda came in, and shocked Laura to the core, when she saw that her new friend, far from covering herself up, had elected to wear a spectacularly backless long white gown, cut so deeply that the start of the crack in her buttocks could just be seen, when she twirled around to show Laura her attire. But the angry red wheals etched across her skin were all-too-obvious, and Laura was astonished at the brash pride with which she seemed to want to parade her wounds, turning her back to people who entered, so that they could see her marks. Several did double-takes as they passed. As they watched the people enter, three unfamiliar faces appeared. One was a tall, stunningly beautiful platinum blonde, with long, straight hair, the other blonde had shorter hair and a curvaceous figure, whilst the third woman was of mixed race, with a pretty face and a shy smile. They all wore long evening gowns. Laura turned to Velda, about to ask after her sore back, but just then Ilona came up to them, laced into the trademark black 'restraint' dress she had worn the night before. She put a finger to Velda's back, tracing the line of one of her wheals. 'I see you are friends,' she said, her accent thick and grating, 'that is good!' Before either could reply, she let her long finger, with its extravagantly long red-painted nail, trail over Velda's shoulder, and brush Laura's nipple as she moved away, glancing back at them meaningfully over her shoulder for the briefest of instants. 'God, I'd love her to eat my pussy!' said Velda. 'I doubt she'd need a second invitation,' said Laura. Just then the gong went for dinner, and they took their places at the huge table. Laura sat beside Velda, and whispered an inquiry as to her sore back. 'It's fine, darling,' she said, 'did you enjoy doing it?' The question took Laura by surprise. 'I….I don't know, Velda. I didn't want to hurt you, I really didn't, but…..but – I guess I was sort of envious of you. I think so, anyway.' She felt the electric touch of Velda's hand on her thigh, and that, coupled with talking about the punishment, had her juices flowing yet again. She squirmed on her seat, but Dr. White was demanding their attention. 'You will all have noticed we have three new ladies with us for dinner tonight. They arrived from Stockholm today. They are, respectively, Inger' – and the platinum blonde raised her hand – 'Dagmar' – this was the other blonde – 'and Liv. They have already been shown around the castle, as were you all this morning. After dinner, we have arranged some dancing, but an early night may be in order, because tomorrow the Count is due to arrive early, and wishes to conduct a casting session at ten a.m.' While they ate, hi-fi equipment was being set up at the far end of the great hall, and as their sweets were served, a variety of music started to issue forth. The scarcity of males was partly rectified by the appearance of Goran, the young driver, and another dark-skinned young local lad, who made a bee-line for the Swedish girls. Dr White was dancing with Madhuri, who was tonight in western dress, a short black velvet cocktail dress showing off nice legs as she danced. To Laura's horror, the gangly Jonathan came quickly around and asked her to dance, leaving his wife with a face like thunder. She had no choice but to accept, and when he held her close on the tiny floor, found he had an immense erection pressing against her stomach. Then she saw that Jakob was dancing with Velda, whilst seated on a sofa, beside the dancefloor, his lovely wife, Myra, was deep in conversation with none other than Ilona. There were, she thought, an endless number of permutations here, but one connection she certainly didn't want to get into, was with the awful Jonathan. Problem was, the poor lamb had the most awesome stalk. The solution was played into her hands – literally. Someone – it must have been the maid- changed the music, putting on a slow, smoochy number, and dimming the lights, right down. Jonathan's breathing was coming in short gasps, as his knee was between Laura's legs, and his hand crept up her skirt, encountering no opposition, as she wore no panties. He squirmed against her, and eased his forefinger into her unprotected, damp, shaven crack. She spared a hand to massage his cock outside his trousers, and moaned gently in his ear, then bit his lobe. She felt him stiffen against her, and knew then that he had shot his load, right there, in his trousers, poor man. 'You'd better go and clean up, I think,' she said, and he scuttled off, holding himself very awkwardly. She went and sat down with Sandra and Lavinia, who were chatting about clothes. 'I thought you were dancing with my dear husband?' said Lavinia. 'I think he needed the toilet,' said Laura. That night Laura slept in the beautiful nightdress that had been left as a gift, and dreamed of being pursued down stone corridors, then subjected to nameless terrors, while wearing just such a garment, like the heroine in so many of the old films she had seen. She was Barbara Steele or one of the other actresses of the past, always threatened with a horrible fate. When she woke up, she wondered if that was the object, somehow, of the exercise. It was a grim morning, and Laura dressed formally, for the casting, not knowing what to expect, in a pleated cotton skirt and matching jacket over a silk blouse, with a pair of patent heels. She found at breakfast that Velda had dressed similarly, but when they were all ushered into waiting room for the casting interview, they were placed in alphabetical order. Inger, the platinum blonde, was apparently called Anderssen, so went in first, to be followed by Laura, then the Epsteins, while Velda was going to have quite a long wait. After what seemed ages, the tall Swede emerged, looking, thought Laura, a bit shaken, and left without a word. Dr White gave a signal. It was Laura's turn, and she went in, not without some trepidation, to be faced by two people. Ilona was sprawled along a couch against one wall, wearing a long red scarlet satin gown. It was the first time Laura had seen her in anything other than the severe black corset-dress. Behind a huge desk was the most beautiful man Laura had ever clapped eyes on. He may have been any age between forty and sixty, and had black wavy hair, greying at the temples, and a cross between Cary Grant and George Clooney as far as facial characteristics were concerned she thought, a face that exuded power and sex. She could hardly speak, and it was just as well that Ilona was introducing her. 'This is Miss Crane,' she said. 'Laura,' she supplied. 'Thank you,' said the God, 'I am Vlad Tepes, direct descendent of the Counts you may have heard of.' 'Yes, of course,' said Laura. 'Take off your clothes please,' he said. Taken by surprise, she hesitated. 'Is that a problem? If so, I will send for the next woman.' 'Oh no, of course not,' she said, and slipped out of her jacket, whereupon Ilona slid, snakelike, from the couch and took it from her. She unbuttoned the skirt, feeling now a bit self-conscious because she had taken to not wearing any underwear since her episode with Velda. Stepping out of the skirt, she had only to unbutton the blouse, slide it off her shoulders, and she was completely naked. 'Come closer!' Vlad was saying, idly regarding her, as Ilona laid her clothes on the couch. 'Turn around slowly,' he ordered, tapping a Mont Blanc pen on the desk as his deep-set eyes took in her body from head to foot. 'Stop there!' he said, when she had her back to him. 'I see you have no piercings, tattoos, or punishment-marks,' he said rhetorically, then spoke quickly to Ilona in Romanian, whereupon she picked up a clipboard from the desk and ticked off some boxes. 'Now bend over, and part your legs,' he said, quietly, and Laura looked over her shoulder at him doubtfully. 'Do it!' he ordered, sharply, and his tone brooked no procrastination. When she was in that compromising position, just a metre in front of his desk, he said, 'Now pull your buttocks apart, so that I can see your anus.' As she complied with his request, she said, 'Is this really necessary?' 'I believe so,' he said, chuckling gently, then said something further in Romanian to Ilona, who wrote on her clipboard. 'You may get dressed now,' he said, and watched her as she did so, a faint smile playing around his handsome features. 'Please sit down,' he said, when she was dressed, then waited while Ilona fetched her a chair, and placed it in front of the desk, then resumed her position on the couch. 'Now,' he said, 'why did you want to come to Transylvania, Miss Crane?' 'From being very young, I have been fascinated by the old horror films, and I have read much about…..about your ancestors, I guess.' 'And what you have seen since you have been here. Does it disappoint you, or come up to your expectations?' 'I love the atmosphere of your castle – I find it very….exciting.' 'Can I ask you something personal? Do you find yourself more than usually sexually aroused here? You don't have to answer that if you don't want to, I'll understand.' 'Why, yes, I do!' 'And how did you react to my dungeons?' She fell silent, lost for a way to describe her feelings – the mixture of terror and sheer sexual tension that seemed to electrify the air down there – did it have anything to do with what had since passed between her and Velda? All this passed before her in an instant, and, looking at Vlad, she got the feeling that he could read her mind, that he knew exactly what was going on in there. And something else – she suddenly wanted him to fuck her as she had never been fucked in her life, and knew she wouldn't rest until he had. But he was speaking to her. 'I understand you may be confused, but I also have been informed about your recent liaison with another young lady I am shortly going to interview. This tells me something about you, I suppose you realise?' 'I….I'm not like that, really,' said Laura. 'Oh, and what are you like?' He was making fun of her now. He turned and spoke to Ilona in Romanian, then said to Laura, 'Please go now. You may relax by the pool for the rest of the morning. Everyone else will be joining you, I think.' She was swimming slowly up and down the pool, enjoying the feel of the warm water, when Myra walked onto the poolside, wearing, like Laura nothing more than bikini bottoms, but looking magnificent, statuesque, the fine gold chains around her waist and ankle somehow emphasising the tanned beauty of her near-nakedness. She stepped out of her high-heeled sandals, and dived flawlessly in beside Laura, coming up with hardly a ripple at precisely the right spot to cup Laura's breasts from behind as she broke the surface. 'Mmmm,' said Laura, 'where have you been all my life?' 'I thought you were all tied up with Miss Turner.' 'And you with your husband?' 'Touché!' she said, 'but I wasn't being catty, honest! Are we still friends?' 'Of course!' said Laura, 'with Velda it's different, not like with you and Jakob. I want so much for you to understand.' They went and towelled off. Apart from Inger, reclining on a couch in the far corner, her hair splayed out around her, there was no-one else there, but almost immediately, in walked Jakob, in Bermuda shorts, a towel over his shoulder. He was smiling.