#marloes

Dani’s reverie was interrupted by a man’s voice. It was James, the valet. He said, “It’s time. Let’s get it over with. I have only an hour or so left on my shift.” Then he undid the hanging chain from the bracelets on Dani’s wrists that held her in an uncomfortable, stooped position with her hands raised behind her back. Dani, freed from this painful position, fell to the floor of the dungeon. Then James, without speaking and with one hand holding the leash that was attached to the large ring piercing Dani’s labia, took her by the shoulders and guided her up the 39 steps to the main floor of the Chateau. There he released her shoulders and said, “Your hands will remain bound behind your back, and I will lead you by the leash attached to your sex past the refectory to the whipping room. The other slaves here have been told to watch you being taken. Your Master wants you to be seen by them in order to further humiliate you.” Then he took the leash and started down the long hallway.

Albert and Charles Martel, the other two valets on duty in the refectory that morning, had assembled the other slaves – Niobe, the blonde twins Apryl and Selena, Collette, Claudia, Marloes, Jeanne, Therese, Quy, Binh, as well as Verona- to watch Dani being taken to the whipping room. Dani could feel their eyes on her. She thought, “I wonder what they are thinking. They know that I am being taken to the little room with the raised dais. There I’ll be tied spread eagle with my legs splayed open and raised, my sex visible to all. It’s so humiliating to be watched while I am taken there, especially the way I am being led – like an animal on a leash.”

And some of the girls were, indeed, aghast at the sight of poor Dani being led that way. But some had other feelings – perhaps jealousy or envy. As Dani passed by, Collette leaned over to Jeanne and whispered in her ear, “Watch and just think, that may be you the next time.” To which Jeanne replied, “If that is what Louis wants of me.” Hearing this, Marloes just shook her head.

James led Dani into the whipping room. Unlike the music room at Anne Marie’s the walls were not lined with cork. Instead, the wall directly in front of the raised dais had a very large mirror hanging from a hook. “James said to Dani, “That’s so you can see yourself open and being whipped.” Then he had Dani sit on the dais. First, he unclipped her hands from behind her back, only to secure them to rings set at the head of the dais opposite the mirrored wall. Then, one at a time and using the bracelets on her ankles, James bound her legs to the small posts on either side of the dais. Only after doing so, did he unhook the metal dog leash from the ring piercing her labia. Then with a flourish of his hand, he waved at the mirrored wall where Dani could see herself open, the smaller chain from her pierced cervix hanging from her vagina, and said, “Behold, the lovely lady!”

Pierre stood to the side and let the girls have coffee and gossip. He was the only valet around and did not always enforce the rule of silence, especially if no Master was around. He said, “Five minutes to ten. Better finish up your coffee, then I will escort you to the refectory for your baths.” Therese took sip of her coffee and said, “I swear I do not know why we spend so much time with bathing, hair, make-up, dresses and the like. Most of the men who come here don’t give a fig about it. All they care about is how far you can spread your legs, how tight you are, and whether or not you can give a good blow job. I could be bald, no make-up, and as sweaty as a field hand and some guest would still want me. And some, if not most men, like a little female musk smell down there. Am I right or not?”

Jeanne replied, “Oh I like getting all made up and dressed. It makes me feel pretty. And I’m sure Louis likes for me to look good when he comes to see me.”

Therese said, “You mean if he comes to see you. I haven’t seen him around much lately.”

“His uncle Gaspar has been sending him to Spain a lot lately to work on some project down there. I think it’s good that Louis wants to expand his expertise beyond just his paintings.”

Now Collette spoke. “Jeanne, you are such a dullard. I’m sure Louis has another girl there.” She paused, then added, “Although, I‘m not sure you could say he’s two timing you, what with you being his whore and all.”

Jeanne’s eyes began to well up and Marloes said, “Leave Jeanne alone, Collette. You are such a bitch sometimes. We all know that getting all dolled up is really about power. It’s just another way the Masters have of exercising power and control over us. They could just as soon keep us naked, but by making us get all dressed up as if for a party, it is a way of showing that they have the power, and we have none.”

Everyone as silent for a bit, then Marloes broke the silence, “Anyway, you and Claudia have looked like two birds who have swallowed a canary all morning. What’s up?”

Colette grinned and said, “Well, since you asked. Last night before we were chained in our beds, Anne Marie sent for us.”

“Oh! That’s usually not good,” interrupted Therese.

“But last night it was,” said Claudia. “You see a new girl is coming to Roissy. And not just any new girl. It’s one who is famous.”

“Really?” said Therese. “Another model like Alessa or Anna?”

“No. Maybe even more famous. You see it’s Verona F. You know the girl on Arte Television, the host of ‘Discovery with Verona.’ Anne Marie told Collette and me that we will be in charge of preparing her for her presentation. I can hardly wait!”

Now Marloes spoke. “Verona F., the television personality. Why on earth would she come to Roissy?

Marloes was on duty in the library with Therese and Jeanne, who had only just been returned to Roissy a couple of weeks ago after being away for over a year and a half. Marloes rather liked Jeanne. She was petite with curly brownish hair and a pleasant face. Plus, like Marloes, she had a dry sense of humor. Both girls thought many of the rules for Roissy slaves were foolish but abided by them. Jeanne because she loved her Master who had returned her to Roissy and Marloes because she really had no other choice. “And,” thought Marloes, “the Masters really don’t expect us to do a lot of hard work – tending tables in the restaurant, making sure there is a fire going in the library, light housekeeping, that sort of thing. But the main thing, in fact the only thing, that is expected of us is to be constantly available for use by a Master or a ‘customer.’ And I have been getting used since I was fifteen.”

Presently Marloes was standing next to Gaspar, an older Master, who was seated in an over-stuffed chair by the window. She and the other two women had on the typical Roissy uniform – a dress that was tight at the waist, but flared at the hips with slits up the sides so that it could be rolled up in front to reveal a girl’s sex or in the rear so that her buttocks was visible. The waist had a sort of built in corset, constricting the waist and pushing the breasts up and out. It was cut so that the nipples were clearly visible but covered by some sort of semi-transparent material. Therese’s dress was aqua in color; Jeanne’s a pale blue; and Marloes’ a lavender. Marloes noticed that Therese’s was rolled up in back to reveal three red stripes where she had been flogged earlier. When Jeanne had earlier noticed them, she had dryly remarked, “Nice stripes. Someone knew what they were doing.”

Therese had replied, “It was James. The bastard flogged me for looking a Master in the eye.”

“Ah, that James. He can be a mean one. Perhaps one of the crueler valets,” said Jeanne.

A Master whose name Marloes didn’t know had been reading a newspaper when he noticed Therese bending over to sweep up ashes by the fireplace. The red stripes on her rear must have caught his eye. He got up from his chair and told Therese to get on her hands and knees over a nearby ottoman. Then he turned to Jeanne and said, “Undo my trousers. Get me hard.” Jeanne knelt before him. Marloes noticed Jeanne’s tiny hands unbuttoning the Master’s trousers and bringing out his already semi-erect member. She watched those same hands working the length of his member. All the while, Therese patiently awaiting, bent over the ottoman with her rear higher than her torso. Marloes then watched as he plunged into Therese’s sex in short, quick spasms. She heard Therese utter a low moan.

Gaspar watched, then grabbed Marloes and pulled her across his lap. Marloes felt her dress being pulled up, exposing her rear. She expected Gaspar to fondle her sex, but instead felt his fingers circling her anus. Then she felt one of them penetrate her. She gasped and heard Gaspar say to no one in particular, “Why, this bitch is entirely to tight. Just what have Rene and Sutton brought us? We will have to do something about it.”

And he kept Marloes bent across his knee, impaled by his finger as they both watched the unknown Master empty himself into Therese.

She did ask Pierre where Anna was as she did not see her after she and Ahmet went into the suite’s other bedroom. Pierre gave a noncommittal shrug and said, “Don’t worry about her.” So, Marloes went about her duties in the library. One of the Masters whose name she hadn’t yet learned was reading the paper and drinking coffee. When Marloes approached to see if his coffee needed refilling, he said, “No. Not yet. But tell me – did that Turk have you whipped last night? If so, you should roll up your dress so that the marks are visible.” When Marloes told him that she had not been whipped, he sighed and said, “What a pity,” and went back to the paper.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In fact, Marloes did not see Anna that day or the next. On the third day at breakfast she sat at a table with several Roissy veterans: Therese, Claudia, Collette, and Jeanne. Technically, the girls were to remain silent while in the cafeteria, but that was a rule most valets didn’t insist on. They let the girls gossip among themselves, and depending on the valet, sometimes joined in the conversations. Marloes asked Therese if she had seen Anna lately.

“Oh yes. Yesterday in the bathing area. Evidently her customer – that Turk or whatever he was- must have had her flogged. There were bruises all over her rear and upper thighs. She was concerned about them.”

Jeanne, who had only recently been returned to Roissy by her Master and who did not know Anna, interrupted, “So what? We are all flogged from time to time. Bruises are a part of it. The Masters like to see them. It enforces their sense of superiority to us.”

Therese went on to explain, “Yes. But Anna is different. She is a model, you know. At least when she isn’t here. The Society releases her to work in some fashion shows. Anna is evidently quite popular and paid well to model. Neither she nor the Society want it to be known that when she isn’t modeling, she is a Roissy slave. She was probably afraid that the bruises might be visible when she is dressed for the show.”

This time Marloes interrupted saying, “I had no idea! Well, she is certainly pretty enough.”

Therese continued, “Yes, a very pretty girl who loooks good in the clothes she models. She is paid well, and the Society gets most of it as Anna is a bound slave. Her late lover was a Master, and when he was killed, Anne Marie told Anna that her ownership passed to the Society.”

Collette then spoke, giggling, “Yes. Anna makes money for the Society by walking, but the rest of us make money on our backs.”

“Or on our hands and knees,” added Claudia.

At the Bayerische Staatliche Polizei office on Ulmer Strass in Augsburg, two INTERPOL agents were finishing up a conversation with the commanding officer of the Polizei. The taller of the two INTERPOL agents, a Norwegian man named Magnus, said, “Thank you, Herr Major for your assistance. Although we have not yet located the target, your confidential informants were able to provide valuable information. Should we eventually gain enough information to conduct a raid, we will certainly seek your assistance.”

The Staatliche Polizei officer replied, “And we will be on the look out for any human traffickers who fit the description you provided. In time, I am sure we will discover the location of this place… what did you call it ‘Slaves Haus’?”

Magnus replied, “We are not sure, but think it is called Haus der Sklavin. A place where innocent women have been trafficked.”

Then the major excused himself, leaving the two INTERPOL agents alone.

Magnus turned to his shorter companion, named Anders. “Well my friend, it seems you are wrong again. These Bavarians were actually very helpful. Not at all the ‘Hill Billies’ you said they would be.”

Anders gave a dour look to his companion. “Well, that was the Prussian coming out in me, and they were a bit more useful than tits on a boar hog. Still, I wish we had an exact location. All we have is a probable location within the triangle formed by Ulm, Munich, and here in Augsburg. That is a lot of territory.”

Magnus replied, “Yes, it is. And without our American CIA partners we are a bit undermanned.”

“Well, at least they seem to be recovering. The younger one is already back on duty, and your friend Ted is lucky to be alive, although I fear he may never be able to work again.”

“A brain injury might sideline most agents permanently, but I think if anyone can come back from such an injury, it would be my friend Ted.”

Both men were silent for a bit. Finally, Magnus broke the silence. “You know for me, this case is just like any other, but you seem to have taken it personally.”

“I have,” said Anders. “I hate pimps and human traffickers who prey on young women. That pimp called Slim in Munich that I killed. I had arrested him once before when I was a regular cop in Berlin. I probably should have shot him then. If I had things might have turned out differently.”

“Why? He just seemed like regular scum.”

Anders replied, “You see he was one of the guys who got my baby sister hooked on drugs and then taught her how to sell her body to get more. She was actually with him when we first arrested him. I bonded her out. Paid for her to go to rehab. But she relapsed. Became a hooker for some other pimp. Now I haven’t seen her in years. She may be dead for all I know.”

Magnus looked surprised. He said, “Working together for over three years and I never knew you had a sister. What is her name?”

Anders looked at him and simply said, “Marloes.”

In unison Jeanne, Claudi and Therese nodded and said, “Oh yes.” Pierre continued, “Perhaps Anne Marie wants Collette to witness Noelle being punished or more likely Collette will do the actual punishment.” Marloes gave him a blank look and he continued, “When a slave is chosen to punish another slave, both girls are naked. It’s one of Anne Marie’s little quirks. She thinks it gives both the slave being punished and the one wielding the whip a sense of vulnerability. The one with the whip knows she could just as easily be on the receiving end, so it makes her even more ferocious, even savage. A sort of returning to the primeval self or something like that.”

Therese interrupted, “Yes that’s true. It also heightens the sexual tension, especially if the slave being punished is being whipped between her widespread thighs, on her sex.” She looked at Marloes and said, “You know – the ‘special punishment’ at Roissy that Michael and James threaten us with if we disobey.”

Marloes eyes widened, and she said, “You know this how?” Now, little Jeanne spoke. “it’s true. I was at Anne Marie’s home in Samois along with Colette and Therese when a girl named Yvonne was sent there by her lover. It was Anne Marie’s rule that when a new girl arrived, she was to be whipped like that. We drew lots to see who would whip her and Collete ‘won.’ Yvonne was arranged on the dais in what Anne Marie called her music room. I helped tie Yvonne’s legs to posts on either side f the dais so that her legs were raised and spread. Her sex was open for all to see. Her hands bound to the other end of the dais. Then Collette, who was naked – Anne Marie required us to be naked at all times – stood over her. She raised the whip and came down hard on her while Anne Marie played music to drown out her screams. Therese and I sat on a sofa and watched. I felt myself getting wet and aroused watching it. So did Therese. Right?”

Therese looked sheepish but nodded in agreement. She said, “And later Collette said that she almost came herself from hearing poor Yvonne scream and cry.”

Jeanne spoke again, “And most surprising, Yvonne told me that later after the whipping while she was let there on the dais, bound and spread for two hours, while she could feel the welts and bruises forming, she, too, was wet and aroused because she had nearly come from being flogged.”

Marloes looked at Jeanne with a look combining both disbelief and horror and said, “I think you are all crazy.”

And old Pierre nodded in agreement.

The six slaves from the morning had been given their assignments, and now garbed in their Roissy gowns - gowns that were cut tight in the waist but flared at the hips and slit so that the gown might be rolled up in front or back to reveal a slave’s rear or sex, while the corset -like top was cupped and stopped just below the breasts so that the breasts were pushed forward and visible. Additionally, a type of transparent veil could be used to cover yet reveal the breasts. Now the six were escorted to their assigned duties for the day. Marloes and Therese and Zoe, recently released from the Roissy dungeon and deemed fully trained by her Master Alex followed old Pierre to the restaurant and dining area, while Rupert, another valet, led Jeanne, Emilie, and Claudia, who still was wearing the chastity belt to the waiting area and library.

The restaurant and bar area of Roissy was located in the ‘public’ area of Roissy on the left side of the entrance to the chateau. There anyone – Master or guest – might have a drink or eat a meal. Interestingly enough, the cuisine served at Roissy was excellent: locally grown vegetables. Beef or lamb from local herds, duck or chicken dishes or seafood which was trucked in from Honfleur once a week. All prepared by a world-renowned chef who was not only paid handsomely, but also allowed the slave of his choice as if he, too, were a Master. Of course, the wait staff was composed of the women who were slaves of the Chateau.

As Pierre turned over the three to the Maitre ’d who was standing near the Vietnamese girls Quy and Binh, he said, “Here are the other three assigned to you today. Now, my shift is over and I’m off to home where my fat wife and ugly children await.” The Maitre ‘d, whose name was Phillip, looked over his assigned staff and said, “You all look nice today, a veritable rainbow of beauties waiting to serve. And ‘ladies,’ please remember to keep the veil over your breasts when serving. No nipples dragging in the salad dressing.” Then, “Oh, it’s eleven and here comes our first customers for an early lunch.”

Zoe recalled the first time Axel had brought her to Roissy. Surprisingly, it was not to be trained. Instead, at that time she and Axel had just become loves after being introduced by a mutual friend. Zoe had just completed her schooling and was awed by the several years older Axel. The same mutual friend who had introduced them had told Zoe that Axel came from a very wealthy family. While Zoe’s parents were staunchly bourgeois. Besides being wealthy, Axel was handsome in a chiselled sort of way. Everyone said they made a nice couple. Zoe remembered, “Axel said he wanted to take me to a fancy restaurant where the food was fabulous. Of course, I said yes. We went for lunch. It was a fairly long drive from Paris, but we went through the countryside in his BMW. And then we were here. The first thing I noticed was that the wait staff were all beautiful women in fancy dresses resembling 18th century styles I had seen in school textbooks. The two who waited on our table seemed to fawn over Axel as if they knew him well but were cold and aloof to me. Now I understand why. I was at that time a free woman and they were slaves as I am now.”

Zoe’s reverie was broken by Therese’s voice, “Come on. We need to take their order.” And Zoe followed her to a table where a handsome man and pretty woman, who looked a bit uncomfortable were seated.

After Michael had led Collette away, the remaining four women – Marloes, Jeanne, Therese and Claudia – went back to their coffee. Shortly afterwards, old Pierre said, “Drink up ladies, it’s time for you to earn your keep. And remember to follow the rules, so you’re not flogged today. Understand?” Four voices said simultaneously, “Yes, Daddy Pierre.” Followed by small giggles, as the four truly liked Pierre and enjoyed bantering with him when they could.

Pierre began reading the day’s assignments, “Therese and Marloes. You will join the two Vietnamese girls, Quy and Binh, in the dining room. All four of you are servers today.” Then he turned to Claudia and Jeanne. “You two will be in the waiting area and library.” Then, “Everyone got it?” Again, four voices in unison, “Yes, Daddy Pierre.”

This time even Pierre smiled, dropping his usual dour expression. He said in mocking exasperation, “Like herding cats.” Then from behind came a voice, “Well old fellow, you are supervising the pussy.” Pierre turned quickly and saw Rupert another valet approaching with two more women in tow. Rupert had a good relationship with Pierre, the senior valet at Roissy and often joked with him. Pierre had trained Rupert when he first came to Roissy and like Pierre- and unlike Michael and James - saw no need to be overly cruel to the slaves unless they disobeyed.

The women following Rupert were Zoe, just released from the dungeon and Emilie, who was on her second day – first morning – at Roissy. Pointing to the shorter girl with the honey-colored hair, Rupert said, “This one is Zoe. You may remember her from her previous short stint here a year or so ago. Then her Master had to move to Indonesia to manage the family’s rubber plantation, so he pulled her out. About a month ago, he brought her back to complete her training. Now, her Master decided that her training time in the dungeon was completed, and she should be put in the general population.”

Pierre nodded as Rupert continued, “And this other one is Emilie. I’m not really sure about her story, but Gaspar told me a while ago to bring her to you for assignment.”

Hearing this, Emilie who looked like she might be in shock, started to speak, but decided better and remained silent. She remembered, “Last night, after those men finally finished with me, I was taken to a small bedroom. I guess I was still stunned at having been taken so roughly and then whipped. I was laid on a hard bed and my hands were chained to the headboard. Then Denis came in and sat beside me on the bed…”

Emilie’s thoughts were interrupted by Pierre who said, “They both look a little worse for wear this morning. Are you sure they should be put to work already?”

Rupert chuckled and said, “Pierre, I know you are getting old and have become rather fond of these bitches, but if a Master says they should be put to work, I don’t think we should even consider otherwise.”

Pierre considered for a moment what the younger valet had said, then, “You’re right. Not our decision.” Then looking at the two women, “Okay. Zoe, you go with Therese and Marloes to work in the restaurant area. And you, new girl, go with Claudia and Jeanne to the library.”

Hearing this, Emilie, who still had a bewildered look on her face, said, “Library?”

Hearing this, Jeanne took her by the upper arm and said, “Oh, don’t worry; it’s easy work. Mostly you just tend the fire and hand newspapers or books to the Masters who want to read them. Perhaps fetch drinks.” And Claudia added, “And mainly look available and ready for use.”

Anne Marie answered, “Hopefully.”

“And more customers would come? And the valets and others that have been furloughed would be back? And there would be more than ten girls here?”

“Hopefully, pet,” answered Anne Marie.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And what of those girls who were still at Roissy?

The personal slaves Julienne and Blaise Marie were confined to their room. Anna was away on a modeling assignment. Marloes was on duty in the library at Roissy along with Niobe and the Vietnamese girls Quy and Bihn. Marloes’ friends, Jeanne, Claudia, Colette and Theresa were working at the bar and restaurant respectively.

Marloes was tending the fire while two Masters – old fat Cyril and Maynard- sat in armchairs and read the newspapers. She had reminisced about her time at Gaspar’s estate over the holidays. After the New Years Eve party rest of her time at Gaspar’s estate passed without incident. Indeed, Gaspar was gone a good deal of the time, leaving Marloes alone with Cuc, his Vietnamese servant. And then On Kings Day, Marloes was sent naked across the old stone bridge and was back at Roissy.

Marloes’ reminiscence was interrupted by the entrance two men coming into the library.Marloes looked furtively at the men. She recognized Gaspar’s nephew, Louis; the other man she had not seen previously. Louis had a mop of curly black hair over a cruel looking face and piercing blue eyes. The other man had close cut dark brown hair and brown eyes set over a sensual mouth. He looked vaguely Spanish. Louis. Both men were slender and fairly tall. Marloes glanced at Louis and thought, “I cannot believe that this was the man who in Gaspar’s basement had slapped me and said, ‘Take it in your mouth.’ Why, he looks like a teenager! And to think that this little twerp is Jeanne’s lover! She agreed to come to Roissy for him! Incredible!” Then she noticed the two looking around the room, so Marloes cast her eyes down and placed a new log on the fire.

She heard Louis say to Cyril and Maynard, “Gentlemen, this is my friend Inigo M. We were students together at University. I wanted to show him Roissy.” From the corner of her eye, Marloes saw the man bow and say, “At your service.” Maynard spoke briefly, but Cyril only grunted and went back to his paper.

Then a moment later, Cyril said to no one in particular, “I thought we were limiting guests until the plague is under control.”

Louis replied, “My uncle Gaspar has cleared it with Anne Marie.” Then he added, “Perhaps Inigo will become a member of the Society.” Cyril said nothing but stuck his head back inside the paper he was reading. Then turning to Inigo, Louis said, “Come on. Next I’ll show you the bar and restaurant area.”

After Louis and Inigo left, Maynard turned to Cyril and said, “That young man is the son of the Spanish ambassador. I suspect old Gaspar has some sort of deal that he wants to do in Spain and is letting the young man come to Roissy as a bargaining chip.”

Cyril said, “I still don’t like it. No telling what that young man has been exposed to.” Then he looked over at Marloes who was standing demurely by the fireplace. He said, “You there, wench. Come sit in my lap so that I may fondle you a bit.”

Jeanne replied under her breath, “It’s true. My lover returned me to Roissy about two weeks ago after being away for a year. I had forgotten some of the rules. When he left, I made the mistake of looking James in the face and asking him a question. I hadn’t even finished before he yelled, ‘You know the rules! Now you’ll be flogged for breaking them!’ Thinking I could ‘bribe’ my way out of a whipping, I dropped to my knees in front of him, grabbed at his crotch and said, ‘Please don’t flog me! I’ll be good. I’ll be very good!”

Pierre laughed and said, “And did your little bribe work?”

“No! The sorry fellow flogged my ass anyway. And afterwards, he had the nerve to tell me to blow him!”

“That sounds just like him,” said Pierre. “James can be a hard one. But you should have known better than to look him in the face. You should never forget that.”

Now Colette spoke, “Yes. We all know that rule: ‘Keep your face lowered and eyes on the thing that is your Master.’ That’s why you valets keep the flap of your trousers open, so we have to stare at your cocks all the time.”

“And you don’t like that?” asked Pierre.

“Now, I didn’t say that,” said Colette with a slight giggle.

Their banter was interrupted by the approach of young Albert, a valet who had just happened to come upon Roissy while backpacking across Europe. He showed up just as Pierre was in charge of Roissy during the time of the ill-fated trip to Malaga by Anne Marie. He had come to the chateau asking for work, expecting to be put to cleaning the stables, but Pierre, short-handed because several of the regular valets had accompanied Anne Maire and her entourage, had hired him as a valet. Albert rather enjoyed supervising the female slaves (and, truth be told, exposing himself to them) and had stayed on afterwards. Albert came to Pierre and said, “One of the Masters has requested a morning tryst with Colette and wants me to bring her to him.”

Hearing this, Colette got up from the table and said, “I will see you girls later. Duty calls now.”

And Albert led her away.

Hearing this, Alessa who still had her tongue down Marloes throat and her fingers in her wet sex, looked over and said, “Oh darling, we won’t forget about you, will we Marloes?” Alessa released Marloes from her grip and both women approached Sutton, slightly circling him like two lionesses stalking a gazelle. Alessa grabbed Sutton’s tie and pulled him up from the bed. Alessa, who was still in her heels and therefore slightly taller than Sutton pulled the tie close to her breasts so that Sutton looked up at her. She leaned down and kissed him. Kissed him deeply, as hard as she had Marloes. Meanwhile Marloes knelt before him and began undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers. In only moments she had pulled his pants down around his ankles. Alessa pushed him back onto the bed as Marloes pulled his pants off completely. Alessa pulled off the tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

Momentarily Sutton was completely naked. Lying on the bed with his member standing straight up, he said, “Take me ladies. I’m yours!”

If one were in the room, one would see three bodies assuming positions best described in the “Kama Sutra.” Alessa threw her legs over Sutton’s face, saying, “Tongue me, darling. Tongue my clitoris until I come.” As she said this, Marloes took Sutton’s hard, thick member in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the trip while pumping the shaft with her hand. Sutton smelled the musky perfume Alessa had sprayed on her sex before leaving the apartment, as his tongue darted into her vagina and swirled around. He could hear soft moans emanating from his lover as her hips began to roll involuntarily. Then from below, he felt pressure on his anus as Marloes began to slip a finger into that opening. As Alessa’s thighs began to tremble, he knew she was close. Then he felt Marloes finger deep inside him as she pumped harder and began to suck. “I have died and gone to heaven,” he thought.

Later all three lay in the king-sized bed. Alessa reached over and retrieved a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, she said, “That was nice.” Marloes, her head resting on Sutton’s stomach, absent mindedly running a finger up and down his flaccid penis, said, “I know I’m just the hired help, but I feel rather left out. And it looks like you need a rest before we do anything else.”

Hearing this, Sutton took the cigarette from Alessa, inhaling deeply he said, “I have an idea then. Why don’t you two play for a while. I’ll watch and maybe get inspired for round two.” Hearing that, Marloes moved so that she was on her knees straddling Sutton with her face near Alessa’s sex. As she did so, she made sure that her legs were open and her own sex quite visible to Sutton. Marles slid her face down Alessa’s flat belly to her slit. She looked up at the model, and said, “You smell so good. I love that musky perfume you are wearing. Then using her tongue, she rolled the ring in Alessa’s labia. “I like this, too.” Said Marloes.

Alessa moved so that she was completely under Marloes spread knees. She reached up and pulled Marloes hips down to her face, remembering her time with the Danish model Josie and her golfer ‘friend’ Chloe on the ranch in Colorado last fall. Alessa’s tongue sought out Marloes’s clitoris and elicited a moan from her. Meanwhile, Sutton was running his hand over Marloes’ thigh and around her buttocks. He said, “I may be ready for round two.”

Jeanne and Marloes who were both naked went to the wardrobe that stood in the middle of the room against the wall between their beds. They carefully hung up the dresses they had worn earlier in the evening. After their shift in the library – and being used by several Masters – Rupert had taken them to the toileting area. There both had squatted over the Turkish toilet and bidet that were surrounded by mirrors. Rupert watched the reflections as they had, in turn, relieved themselves. Their showers would wait until morning.

First Rupert placed a chain attached to the head of the bed to the collar around Marloes neck. Then after she lay down, he chained her hands to the collar using the leather bracelets on her wrists. Finally, he pulled the slack from the chain, thus securing Marloes in a position resembling prayer. Doing so, he said, “Got to have your hands up by your neck. Can’t have you masturbating.”

Then he moved to Jeanne. But with her, he left a little slack in the chain. He said, “James said to leave enough slack so that you might kiss the bitch chained to your bed, but not touch her with your hands.” When he said this, Marloes noticed that the bald-headed girl called abigail had her hands chained to the beds headboard. This would allow her to get on her knees if she wished. Marloes also noticed that abigail was connected to the bottom of the bed by another chain. That one was connected to the heavy rings that pierced her labia.

Rupert noticed Marloes looking at the girl. He said, “The chain connected to the rings in her sex is fairly loose. It’s as much to remind her of her status as a slave as to secure her.” Then he stepped back and looked around. Deciding that his work was complete, he turned out the light and went out. The three women, two chained in their beds and one on her knees, heard the door being locked from the outside, leaving them in the darkness.

Having escorted Marloes into the room, Eurydice unclipped the cape from the collar around her neck and removed it. Then she and Nena stepped aside. They were about to leave when one of the men said, “No. You two stay and watch. Perhaps it will bring back fond memories for you.” Marloes heard the man who had said this laugh out loud at his little joke. No longer was she the self-assured and confident prostitute that had agreed to come to Roissy. Instead, she felt the cold sweat of fear beginning to run from beneath her arms.

Marloes stood there, now completely nude. Someone told her to walk forward – blindfolded, she stumbled slightly as she went - until she felt that she was standing in front of the fire around which several men were seated: she could feel the heat, and in the silence, she could hear the quiet crackling of the burning logs. She was facing the fire. Two hands checked to see that her bracelets were attached -then they descended the length of her back and buttocks. The hands were not gloved, and one of them penetrated her in both places at once, so abruptly that Marloes cried out. Someone laughed. Someone else said:

“Turn her around, so we can see the breasts and the sex.”

They turned her around, and the heat of the fire was against her back. A hand seized one of her nipples, a mouth fastened on the tip of the other. Marloes lost her balance and nearly fell backward, while they opened her legs and gently spread her lower lips. “nice! The pubic hair has been completely removed,” she heard a voice say. Another voice said that they would have to make her kneel down.

Then someone protested that he wanted to take her, right there on the spot. So, they moved Marloes so that her bust was on an ottoman, her hands still tied behind her, with her hips higher than her torso. Then one of the men, holding her with both his hands on her hips, plunged into her sex. He yielded to a second. The third wanted to force his way into the narrower passage and, driving hard, made her scream. Marloes was used to men taking her, but not like this. When he let her go, sobbing and befouled by tears beneath her blindfold, she slipped to the floor, only to feel someone’s knees against her face, and Marloes realized that her mouth was not to be spared. It did not take the man long. Finally, they let her go. Suddenly they removed her blindfold. Two of the men were standing and smoking. Marloes was sure that one of them was the man who had initially greeted her – the man who was so well endowed. His member was dormant now, but still quite large. Another who was fat and older was seated, a riding crop on his knees, and the one leaning over her fondling her breast was Rene, one of the men who had brought her to Roissy. All four of them had taken her, and she had not been able to distinguish him from the others.

Rene helped her to her feet and made her sit down on the arm of an easy chair near the fire. Her hands were still behind her back. They showed her the riding crop, which was long, black, and delicate, made of thin bamboo encased in leather, the kind one sees in the windows of better riding equipment shops; the leather whip, which the first man she had seen had been carrying in his belt, was long and consisted of six lashes knotted at the end. There was a third whip of fairly thin cords, each with several knots at the end: the cords were quite stiff, as though they had been soaked in water, which in fact they had, as Marloes discovered, for they caressed her belly with them and nudged open her thighs, so that she could feel how stiff and damp the cords were against the tender, lower lips of her sex.

Along one entire wall of the library, halfway between floor and ceiling, ran a gallery which was supported by two columns. A hook was imbedded in one of them, just high enough for a man standing on tiptoe, with his arms stretched above his head, to reach. The well-endowed man told Marloes, supporting her shoulders, and the other in the furrow of her sex, which burned so she could hardly bear it, told her that her hands would be untied, but merely so that they could be fastened anew, a short while later, to the pole, using these same bracelets and one of the steel chains. They said that, with the exception of her hands, which would be held just above her head, she would thus be able to move and see the blows coming. A man told Marloes that she would not have to endure all this at once; there would be ample time for her to scream, to struggle, and to cry. They would grant her some respite, but as soon as she had caught her breath they would start in again, judging the results not from her screams or tears but from the size and color of the welts they had raised. They remarked to her that this method of judging the effectiveness of the whip - besides being equitable - also made it pointless for the victims to exaggerate their suffering in an effort to arouse pity.

Rene said to the other men, “On the way here, she told me that no man had ever made her cry!” This statement was greeted by several laughs. One replied, “She will not only cry; she will beg for us to stop.” All the men wanted to hear her scream; and the sooner the better.

The pride Marloes mustered to resist and remain silent did not long endure. The men even heard her beg them to untie her, to stop for a second, just for a second. Of course, they did not, but instead continued to flog her. Soon her belly and the front of Marloes’ thighs were almost as marked as her rear. Suddenly there was a respite. Rene came over and took Marloes’ tear streaked face in his hand. He lifted it up and said, “Where is that hard armour that you displayed in the car coming here? I thought you said no man could make you cry and yet here you are – sobbing and begging for us to stop.” He then pointed out that whip made of water-soaked cords marked almost upon contact providing bright red welts. The well-endowed man seemed to especially delight in using it to mark her lower belly. Marloes noticed that he again had a swollen erection as did Rene.

After several minutes, the men must have tired because one of them undid Marloes from the chain that held her to the post. She collapsed onto the floor.

As she lay there Rene came over and smiled, calling her by her name. Softly her caressed her hair, smoothed her eyebrows with the tip of his finger, and bending down softly kissed her on the lips. In a loud voice, he told her “You have done well. But there is one more thing you must do. You’re going to kneel, caress old Cyril’s sex.“

The three men approached. Marloes knelt on the rug in front of the over-stuffed easy chair where the older man sat. She was still naked, her breasts whose nipples were erect, were at the level of old Cyril’s knees. She looked at his dormant, drooping sex.

"A little more light,” said one of the men. As they were adjusting the lamp so that the beam of light would fall directly on Cyril’s sex and on Marloes’ face. which was almost touching it, and on her still chained hands with which she began caressing him. René suddenly said: “Say you love it. Say you want it. Say, ‘I love it.’”

Marloes, now thoroughly broken and trying to raise an erection from the old man’s still flaccid member repeated “I love it, I love it.” And Cyril’s member began to rise.

The other three men, commented on her gestures, on the movement of her mouth closed and locked on the sex she had seized, as it worked its way up and down, on the way tears streamed down her ravaged face each time Cyril’s swollen member struck the back of her throat and made her gag, depressing her tongue and causing her to feel nauseous. Cyril grabbed her hair and held her mouth on him as her chained hands massaged his member.

Finally, old Cyril emptied himself into Marloes mouth with a soft moan. Marloes heard it, heard the others laugh. It was her first night at Roissy.

While Nena and Eurydice were preparing Marloes for her presentation, the meeting with Anne Marie and the Masters was winding down. Suddenly the door to the library opened and Ari strode in. He looked around and said, “I understand Rene has brought us a new girl. I’m not too late for the presentation, am I?”

Old fat Cyril answered, No, old chap. You are, in fact, just in time. We are adjourning to the other library where she will be presented.”

“A Dutch whore, I heard,” said Ari. “You know I am partial to Dutch women; Doutzen was one.”

“And a magnificent one she was. I still can see her hanging there on the cross that day.”

Rene interjected, “I think she’s actually German, but no matter. Let’s go on now. We should be there when the other girls bring her in.” And four of the men left, but Gaspar stayed behind. He looked at Anne Marie and said, “A word, please.”

“Certainly,” said Anne Marie. “What is it?”

Gaspar said, “As you are aware, I am newly appointed to the Society’s Finance Committee and I am rather curious about our settlement with the two girls you are sending away. Nene and Eurydice, I think.”

“Yes?”

“Well, as true slaves of Roissy, they like the girls who belong to members are paid double the normal rate, yes?”

“Yes, of course. They have been good earners for the Society, but as I said they are getting a bit long in the tooth and wear and tear is showing. Their earnings have been trending down lately. I think the trade with Haus der Sklavin will be to our advantage.”

“Good, but just how is the money disbursed. Do they get anything other than tips?”

Anne Marie answered, “Yes in theory. The Society gets 80% and the girls like them get 20% that is, again in theory held in escrow for them until they leave.”

“You say, ‘in theory.’ Why?”

“Well, you see, they are charged for room and meals here at the Chateau. And if a dress is ruined, it comes from their escrow. That sort of thing. So, their ‘cut’ is closer to 8- 10%. I keep a ledger on each of them. What they actually get will be more in the neighborhood of 15 – 20 thousand Euros if paid in a lump sum.”

“So, for their six years, they will walk away with a lump sum of about 20 thousand Euros?”

“Not actually. There will be a paper transfer of funds from Roissy to Haus der Sklavin. When, or should I say if, either were to leave there, the money would be paid out. Again, in theory. That is a rougher place than here. Who really knows what may befall them there?” Anne Marie gave a wicked smile with the last sentence, before continuing, “Anyway, I have instructed the valets to arrange for a rather unique send off for Nena and Eurydice after this new girl’s presentation. After that, money will be the last thing on their mind!”

Gaspar smiled and said, “Perhaps I will stay afterwards just to see what you have in mind for them.”

Anne Marie flashed another wicked smile and said, “I rather doubt you would be disappointed.”

While Anne Marie was meeting with the Masters, Marloes was being escorted into a room in another part of the chateau. The sight of two valets who met her as she got out of the car that had brought her to Roissy frightened her a little. Her normal aura of self-confidence and bawdy humor began to dissipate. “I wonder just what I have gotten myself into,” she thought. The valets did not speak to her other than to say, “Come with us,” and when they entered the room, point to a single chair and say, “Sit there. Someone will be with you shortly.” Marloes sat there for what seemed like an hour but was in fact only about fifteen minutes. She was still in somewhat of a state of arousal from Rene having fondled her on the ride into Roissy, but not allowing her to reach orgasm. Marloes thought to herself, “I wonder if I could quickly bring myself to climax?” But she looked around. While the walls were paneled, she saw what she assumed to be several peep holes in the paneling. “I must be watched,” she again thought to herself and decided to just sit.

Suddenly a door opened. Two comely women dressed in what looked to be 18th century garb but cut so that their breasts were quite visible and prominent entered escorted by a man. One of the women was brunette and was almost pretty. The other was shorter and had an olive complexion, but obviously dyed blonde hair. But it was the man’s garb that caught Marloes’ eye. He wore a mask that covered the top part of his face and a black silk shirt, open at the collar, but what she most noticed was his trousers. Not really trousers properly speaking – more like the leather chaps that American cowboys wear. It was open at the crotch so that his sex – dormant but still impressively large, larger even that Sutton’s – was quite visible. The second thing about him that Marloes noticed was the leather whip stuck in the belt of his trousers.

One of the women, the brunette who was a bit taller than her companion said, “Come with us. We will prepare you for your presentation.” Marloes asked their names, but instead a sharp reprimand came from the man. “No talking. Do as they say or else.” For emphasis, he patted the whip tucked in his belt. Marloes kept quiet and followed the women into another room – a large bathroom. There, under the watchful eye of the man, they stripped Marloes until she was quite naked, not a difficult task as Rene had removed her panties in the car and Marloes had not been wearing a bra. Once she was naked, the brunette motioned to a large bathtub with suds floating in it. She said, “Get in and we will bathe you.” Marloes did and the two women began to bathe her. As the women began sponging suds on her, the man – evidently sure of what was going to happen – said, “I’ll be back later.” He then turned and went out the door, leaving the three women alone.

Once Marloes was sure they were alone, she said to the brunette, “Who are you? What are your names?” The woman replied, “I am Nena, and this is Eurydice. But keep quiet. He is watching.” She nodded to a mirror on the wall and Marloes assumed it was a two-way mirror like the ones in police interrogation rooms. As she looked at the other mirrors that covered the entire walls, the olive-skinned girl slid the sponge between Marloes’ legs. As she did so, she slipped a finger into Marloes. Marloes gasped slightly and the girl gave her a quick smile.

After the bath Marloes was led to a chair – the type one finds in many hair salons – that reclined completely so that one’s hair can be washed. Marloes, still completely naked, sat in the chair and the dark-haired girl said, “Now we will fix your hair.” She leaned back and as she did so, the other girl, Eurydice, said, “Spread your legs’ you cannot close your knees. It’s against the rules.” Marloes hesitated at first until Eurydice moved her knees apart slightly, saying, “Oh good. You’re almost shaved. In a moment I’ll get a razor and finish it. The Masters like you to be shaved down there.” She then retrieved a bowl full of soapy water and a straight razor. In a moment all of Marloes’ pubic hair was gone, leaving her as clean as a new-born. Eurydice contemplated her work and said, “I don’t think there is any need for waxing. You look fine.” When she stood up, Marloes looked at the mirror across from her and saw herself shaved clean and open.

While Eurydice was working on Marloes’ nether parts, Nena was making up her face – eye liner and mascara before applying bright red lipstick. Then she took a small brush and used it to dab some liquid on Marloes’ nipples. It soon burned slightly and darkened, coloring Marloes’ erect nipples a dark peony. Then she gave the brush to Eurydice who did the same to Marloes’ labia. As she brushed on the liquid she said, “Some of the Masters like an enhanced color there. I have my labia permanently tattooed the same color. It shows off my piercings nicely.” Finally, Nena applied some sort of heavy perfume on Marloes’ neck, wrist pulse points, in the crevice between and under her full breasts and on her sex, where it burned so that Marloes let out a small moan.

“And now for your collar and bracelets,” said Nena. Eurydice produced a wicker basket with various leather collars and bracelets, each of which also had a ring set in the leather. They quickly found some that fit. Both the collar and bracelets closed using a metal slot that fit into an opening on the other side, thus fitting on Marloes’ snugly without constricting her breath or circulation. Marloes noticed the same masked man re-enter the room. No doubt he had been observing her preparation via one of the peep holes or the two-way mirror. He approached and said, “Place your hands behind you.” Marloes did so and the man fastened her hands behind her using the rings on the bracelets. “Now for your cape, blindfold and leash,” he said. With that Nena placed a long red cape around Marloes’ shoulders. It fastened to the ring in the front of the leather collar around Marloes’ neck but was otherwise open. Then Eurydice fastened a blindfold around Marloes’ head obscuring any vision. Marloes heard a click and a slight tug and knew that a leash had also been attached to the ring in the collar. She heard the man’s voice say, “Okay bitch, you lead her into the chamber, and both of you stay while she is presented.”

The tug on the leash became stronger and Marloes stepped forward. With her hands bound behind her, there was no way to keep the cape closed when she walked. She could see from beneath her blindfold that it flared open when she walked exposing her breasts and sex to anyone who was watching. She heard a door open and felt some warmth emanating from across the room. She head the man’s voice again.

“Here she is.”

Inside the tent were Pierre and James, valets for the Chateau. James said nothing, but Pierre said, “Welcome back to paradise. I trust you had a good Christmas and New Year.” Marloes nodded, but said nothing, so Pierre continued, “You mentioned to me when you left Christmas Eve that you were going to go to Berlin and confront your mother and stepfather. How did that go?”

Marloes, feeling she must answer – after all, Pierre was usually nice to her, much nicer than some of the other valets – spoke softly, “I didn’t see them. Well actually, that isn’t true. I saw my mother and Sil walk out of the ratty building they live in and suddenly lost my courage. I felt as if I were sixteen all over again and didn’t want him leering at me. So, I spent my holidays in a nice hotel near the Kufurstendam, shopping, eating and drinking. Perhaps I should have gone with Therese, Claudia, and Collette on their trip. Are they back yet?”

“Oh yes. They got back several hours ago,” said Pierre. James broke in saying, “Back - drunk and higher than kites. Speaking of which, you need to strip down. Here’s a box for you to put your clothes and other belongings in.”

Now reality dawned on Marloes. She was back at Roissy where she was one of the ’free’ prostitutes. That is to say, ‘free’ in the sense that she did not belong to one of the Masters of Roissy. True, Rene and Sutton had brought Marloes to Roissy over a year ago, but neither ‘owned’ her. And as a free prostitute at the Chateau, she was in theory free to leave at any time. But while at the Chateau, she had to abide by its rules. And one of the rules was that a girl who returned to Roissy, must do so by walking naked across the old stone bridge into the rear of the chateau. So, Marloes laid her fur coat in the box and began taking off her chic wool dress. Soon she was standing there wearing only her bra, panties, thigh hi stockings and tall leather boots.

Pierre remarked, “You look quite nice, but you know I must inspect you to make sure you are not carrying any contraband. Please go ahead and strip completely.”

Marloes did as she was told, taking off her bra, then boots, and finally panties and stockings. Once she was naked, Pierre said, “Now turn around, bend over and spread your cheeks.” Marloes did so. “Good, Now, spread your lower lips. Can’t have you smuggling any drugs into Roissy.” Again, Marloes did as told, thinking, “I remember having to do this once when I was arrested. It’s still humiliating. And foolish. We are all closely supervised daily and chained to our beds at night, unable to touch ourselves, let alone take any drugs. And if a guest or a Master wants us to do drugs with them, no one cares.” She paused, then thought again, “No. It’s not really about drugs. It’s about control. Just another way to remind us that we are not mistresses of our own bodies.”

Pierre broke Marloes train of thought saying, “You look clean. Now scurry across the bridge to the door at the back of the Chateau. Another valet will let you in and escort you to your room.”

But instead of hurrying across the bridge, Marloes slowly walked. AS she did so, she thought, “I may freeze, but at least it is one decision I have control over and have made for myself.”

As Marloes walked to across the bridge, James said to Pierre, “That bitch is crazy. It’s freezing cold.” Pierre answered, “Not crazy, just stubborn.”

Sutton looked up from his steak and said, “Well darling, you are thirty-three now.”

“Thirty-two,” hissed Alessa.

“And Josie is what? Twenty-four?”

“Yes,” answered Alessa coldly. “And yes. I agreed to do it. I’m sure her golfer friend Chloe will accompany her to the shoot. I rather liked her and wouldn’t mind talking to her again.”

“Oh, the girl golfer from the party? The one with the curly hair and tattoos?”

“Yes, that one. She was here on the night that I cannot fully remember. So was Josie briefly. Maybe I can find out what happened to me that night.”

Sutton replied, “Well, there were at least two people with ties to Roissy, so I can speculate about what happened. A beautiful, young (Sutton stressed the word ‘young’) woman like you in bed alone with Roissy clientele about. Yes, I can speculate.”

Alessa’s dark mood about the upcoming photo shoot seemed to abate. She looked at Sutton and said, “What do you think is happening to that girl, that prostitute, you and Rene took to Roissy?”

Sutton replied, “I expect Marloes has been presented already and is being put thru her training.”

“I wouldn’t think a hooker would need much training.”

Sutton grinned and said, “It’s not just sex. It’s also about discipline, obedience and following the rules. Remember. You went there, even though it was just for a week.”

“I remember,” said Alessa dryly. “But it’s been a while ago. I remember one of the hardest things for me was to not know just who had done what to me because of the masks the men wore when they took me.”

“That’s a major part of it,” replied Sutton. “Sexual obedience to anonymous men.”

“I guess so,” replied Alessa. Then, “I’m going to open another bottle of wine. You want some?”

Marloes felt as if she had found kindred spirits in her new friends at Roissy. Therese, Jeanne, Colette, Claudia and she had formed a small clique who shared meals and gossip whenever old Pierre or one of the other less discipline minded valets was in charge of them. And it was no real wonder as they shared a great deal in common in their past lives before coming (or being brought) to Roissy. All five had either been fully immersed in the sex trades like Marloes and Therese or its periphery like Claudia who had been a stripper at one of the seedier clubs near Montmartre. They were still relatively young, their looks intact, but fully resigned to their lots in life.

Marloes, of course, had been brought to Roissy by Sutton and Rene who had told her that there she might make a great deal of money, certainly more than she was making flagging down motorists along the highway and offering quick blow jobs for thirty-five Euros. Therese had been working the streets of Nice when she heard about Roissy from a customer. She had ridden the train up to Paris and from there managed to get to the gates of Roissy. She had stayed at Roissy for several months, then left, only to have returned a couple of weeks prior to Marloes’ arrival. Jeanne had initially been brought to Roissy by her lover several years ago. He had taken her away but had recently returned her after deciding the ‘wages’ she might earn as a slave of a member of the Society would be an excellent income supplement. Claudia as mentioned above, was recruited from a strip club in Paris by two members of the Society who were there on a quiet Wednesday night. And there was Colette. How she initially came to Roissy was somewhat of a mystery, but it was common knowledge that once she had been Anne Marie’s ‘girl’ only to be later replaced by little Yvette who had been Anne Marie’s favorite for over two years now.

It was the first day of autumn at Roissy. The asters and few maple trees on the grounds surrounding the Chateau had begun to turn and the morning air had begun to have a chill in it. All five were seated around a table having fruit and bread – the normal breakfast for Roissy slaves. None of the five were on duty until noon and Pierre was the supervising valet, so they had a second cup of coffee and talked. Gossiped really.

Therese said, “You know I was here at Roissy for about eight months the last time. I made enough money to treat myself to a vacation in Crete. I was a blonde then – top and bottom. Those Greek men love blondes; I made enough to turn a profit on my vacation, but Crete was too hot, so I decided to come back. Now I’m saving up to go to Norway, or maybe Sweden.”

Pierre who allowed the women to gossip despite the rule of silence, who had been eavesdropping and secretly enjoyed their stories, interrupted, “I remember you from the previous time you were here. You and that other girl also called Therese often worked in tandem. The Masters would call the two f you, ‘Double T for trouble.’ All the women laughed at this remark. Then Therese asked, “I remember the other Therese had a big ‘R’ branded on her ass and a tattoo of the Roissy Chateau. She was fun. Whatever became of her?

A silence fell over the table. Pierre looked down and shuffled his feet. Therese said, “What?”

Finally, Jeanne spoke. “Therese along with several other girls- Nena, Eurydice, Corinne, Binh, myself who were here at the time – you were gone – were taken to Malaga, Spain where we were to be ‘entertainment’ for a slave auction and the crucifixion of poor Uta. There was some sort of terrorist attack.”

“Oh yes. I heard about that.”

“Anyway, poor Therese was killed in the attack.”

“Oh God! How awful!” cried Therese. Klaus, another valet who was also evidently eavesdropping sauntered over. He said, “Yes. It’s true. I was there. The other Therese was shot in the head. Nearly blew her head off.”

Marloes, along with the other girls at the table was silent. She saw tears forming in Therese’s eyes. Then she heard Klaus add, “She was kneeling down, blowing a fat American when she was shot. At least she died doing what she did best.”

The women ate the rest of their meal in silence.

She had spent Christmas day in Gaspar’s library shooting pool and reading. As Marloes did not read French – after all she had not completed Gymnasium back in her native Germany, she mostly looked at the pictures in the graphic novels by Guido Crepax, Georges Pichard and Loic Dubigeon. All had drawings of women in distress – being brutally used or punished. Rather than being disgusted by these drawings, she became aroused. Marloes replaced the book she was looking at on its shelf and called for Cuc, Gaspar’s Vietnamese maid. She told Cuc that she needed to use the toilet and asked where it was. Cuc directed her to a bathroom off the hall. Marloes entered and looked around. There was a sinks, toilet and bidet. She loosened her robe and sat down on the toilet. Marloes then let her hand reach inside the open robe to her erect nipple. She rolled it between thumb and fore finger for a bit before sliding down to her sex. Sometimes Marloes had trouble reaching an orgasm when she masturbated, but this wasn’t the case then. She was barely able to suppress a moan that might alert Cuc as to what she was doing.

It was late afternoon when Marloes heard a car outside. Looking out the window, she saw Gaspar’s big Citroen pull into the driveway. She also noticed another figure sitting in the seat beside Gaspar but couldn’t make out any features. Indeed, Marloes was not sure if the figure was a man or woman. She dd see Gaspar get out of the car and approach the front door. Marloes quickly took down a book from the shelf – some sort of regular book with no pictures. She was sitting in a chair, absently thumbing the pages when Gaspar entered the library.

Gaspar looked at the lanky blonde sitting in an overstuffed chair wearing nothing save the silk robe and mules. He noticed she had a book in her lap, and said, “I trust you weren’t overly bored while I was gone.” Marloes replied, “No, not really. After breakfast, I rested. Then your maid provided me with a nice lunch, and after that I spent most of the afternoon here in the library working on my pool skills and browsing your books.” Gaspar smiled, took the book from Marloes, and said, “I didn’t know you read French.”

Marloes lied, “I can only read a little of your language. You know – bits and pieces.”

Gaspar smiled again. The book in Marloes’ lap was “Wisdom of the Lash.” He said, “Did you understand enough of it to like it?”

Marloes again lied, “It seems interesting, but I had trouble following the plot.”

Gaspar said, “Perhaps I will help you with your French later, so you can understand the plot.” Then after a short pause. “Did you go exploring any around the house? Find anything interesting?”

“No. Not really. Just rested and hung out here and the dining room.”

“Well, come on. There is something I want to show you. It’s a special room that I had built.”

Gaspar escorted Marloes down the hallway to a door. He opened it and there were stairs leading down to what had at one time been a root cellar. At the bottom of the stairs was a door. Gaspar opened it and turned to Marloes and said, “This is my secret playroom.”

Marloes’ eyes flew open when she looked inside.

Michael glared back and said, “Insolent bitch! I know just what should be done with you. A good flogging! But I’m not in the mood to overly exert myself this morning, so why don’t you follow me. I’ll escort you to the refectory. You can shower and perhaps I’ll wash out that sassy mouth of yours with some soap.”

Marloes got up from the table. Michael slapped her on the rear with his ever-present riding crop and said, “A taste of what you’ll get later. Now come on!”

As Marloes followed Michael down the hallway to the refectory, she could hear the soles of her wooden mules clacking on the stone floor. When he escorted her into the refectory, Marloes heard the sing-song sound of voices. It was Quy and Bihn, the two Vietnamese girls chattering away in their native language. Marloes always rather enjoyed listening to them talk to one another, although she had not the slightest idea of what they were saying. Michael, on the other hand, was not amused. He shouted at the two girls saying, “You know you shouldn’t be talking! What valet is allowing you to do that?”

Both Vietnamese girls fell silent. Michael grabbed Quy, by the shoulders, shook her violently and then slapped her hard across the face. “Tell me who was supposed to be supervising you?”

Little Quy cowered and was silent. Michael drew back again, this time with a closed fist. Then Bihn shouted out, “Loopert! Loopert! He guarding us after bath! Please no hit my frien!”

“Rupert, huh? Well, I’ll have a word with him later!” Then he released Quy. Both she and Bihn squatted down as was their custom when they were left alone and able to talk. Marloes noted that both girls were naked as the day they were born. They looked enough alike to Marloes to be sisters, but she recalled Quy once telling her, “All Vietnamese look alike to Westerners.” But seeing them both together and naked, Marloes noticed that they really were not all that similar. Quy’s face and body were rounder, she was shorter, not that Bihn was tall – she barely came to Marloes’ shoulder. Quy had relatively large breasts while Bihn was quite flat chested. Both girls’ nipples were quite brown, not the least bit pink. And both had hardly any pubic hair. And Marloes noticed that when they squatted, the inner lips of their labia were exposed somewhat. “I wonder if they do that on purpose?” she thought.

Michael turned to Marloes. “All right, wretched whore; your turn in the shower now.” Marloes quickly shed her Roissy gown, the one that was cut so low that her breasts were exposed unless she attached the near transparent veil that covered them. The dress was tight around her belly, so tight it constricted her breathing to a slight extent, before flaring at her hip line. This allowed the dress to be rolled up in front or back, exposing her pubis or rear. As she stepped out of the dress, Marloes thought to herself, “How good it feels to not be so constricted, to be able to breathe deeply and easily.”

Michael noticed Marloes’ nakedness and said, “A little pot belly and bigger tits, you’ve got there. You better go on a diet. No one likes a fat whore!” Marloes started to give a smart reply, but thought better of it, instead just glaring at the valet. True, she had eaten very well while she was at Gaspar’s estate, but she was by no means overweight. Truth was that Marloes was nearing her time of month; her entire body felt somewhat bloated. Her breasts which were normally not overly large, seemed as big as cantaloupes now - sore and feverish- and her nipples painfully erect and hard as diamonds. Marloes stepped into the shower and felt the hot water run over her. “A hot shower! What a luxury. One I could never have had if I had remained a highway whore, flagging down truckers for a quick fuck or blow job along the road. There are some benefits to being a Roissy slave.”

And as Marloes soaped her body, her mind went back to her time at Gaspar’s estate.

Marloes continued to tell of her holiday at Gaspar’s estate. “I walked into the dining room full of trepidation. After all, the man sitting alone at the table, eating a half of grapefruit, was the same man who at Roissy had directed that my anus be enlarged so as to better accommodate him and later had the valets flog me. But he seemed very pleasant that morning. He looked up at me and said, ‘Good morning. I trust you slept well, and I see Cuc laid out a nice robe for you. By the way, that color is quite becoming on you. Please have a seat, Cuc will serve you some fruit and pastries.’ To say I was surprised at his comments would be an understatement. Once I sat down, Cuc appeared with a plate of pastries and half a grapefruit. And, most importantly, a large cup of coffee. Once I was served, Gaspar continued. ‘I am afraid I must leave you today. My sister married a Christian and they celebrate Christmas and always invite me. I don’t particularly care for the man Esther married, but I am quite fond of their son, Louis.’

Hearing this Jeanne interrupted. “Louis is my lover. The man who brought me to Roissy. He is Gaspar’s nephew.”

Marloes continued, “Gaspar said that I had probably noticed that there were no Christmas decorations in the house. ‘It is because I am not of the Christian faith. My family is Jewish, but my sister chose to marry outside the faith. Anyway, I go every year to their little feast. I should return by evening, and perhaps we can then get, how shall I say, better acquainted. Meanwhile, you may lounge around the manor. There is a library with many books as well as a snooker table, if you are so inclined.’ Imagine this politeness coming from a man who, here at Roissy, had already used me in all of my orifices, as well as having me flogged. How much better acquainted did he suppose we could get!”

Jeanne again interrupted, saying, “I told you that Gaspar was quite a different man away from Roissy.”

“He got up to leave – all dressed in a tweed suit and tie. Then he leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I was dumbfounded. He left and I was free to roam around his home, but I am sure he had cameras or his seemingly ever-present maid looking at me. I went into the library which was off the hallway near the dining room. There were a great many books on the shelves lining the walls. My knowledge of reading in French is not good, but there were a great many books with pictures or drawings. I opened one; the title was “Marie Gabrielle in St Europe” or something like that. I remember that the author was named Georges Pichard. There were many drawings of women who looked like prostitutes and who were being punished by nuns. Actually, not punished so much as horribly tortured. And then there was another book of drawings by a man called Loic Dubigeon. It too was full of drawings – so well drawn that they resembled photographs- of women being abused. Beaten and fucked. And finally, there were several books by someone called Guido Crepax. Those, too, were very erotic. Just looking at the pictures and drawings made me quite aroused. I thought about masturbating, but as I was sure I was being watched, instead I went to the snooker table and played. I imagine it was quite a sight – a nearly naked woman playing pool.”

“Snooker, not pool,” said Claudia.

“Whatever,” replied Marloes. “The afternoon passed and near dusk, Gaspar returned…”

Marloes was interrupted by Pierre. “Sorry to break up this gab fest, ladies. But it’s time to go to work. Claudia, you and Collette have duty in the dining room. Jeanne and Therese will be serving in the bar.”

Collette said, “But usually we have more than two girls in each area – four in the dining room and three in the bar.”

“But we haven’t been having as many ‘guests’ lately,” said Pierre. “Slow time of year, plus the pandemic.”

As Pierre led the four away, Jeanne leaned back over her shoulder and whispered, “Marloes, will you tell us this evening about the rest of your holiday with Gaspar.”

And Marloes mouthed, “Of course.”