Stephanie's Pleasure Page 8

  'I'm coming,' she mouthed, before plunging her lips back into Stephanie's wetness. Stephanie felt the whole body beneath her go rigid, saw the finger stop completely and the hips arch off the leather sofa. For a moment the tongue was rigid too, pressed hard against Stephanie's clitoris. Then the body, back, hips, and mouth slackened, and a delicious blast of hot air, an audible sigh, was expelled from the mouth, like exhaust from a car.

  Stephanie eased her labia away but Susie's hands, abandoning her own sex, clamped themselves around her thighs again and pulled her back down.

  'I won't come...' Stephanie started to say, but then she felt Susie's tongue, hot and thick and hard, shoot up into her sex. It lapped at the wetness there, then pushed further and further and further, further than a tongue had ever been, or so it seemed. It was a shock, like a jolt of electricity, deep inside her body. Stephanie reacted immediately. She had had no intention of coming again, no desire to do anything other than let Susie take her pleasure but now, suddenly, she was squirming down on Susie's tongue, pressing it deeper still, rubbing herself against the hard bone of Susie's chin. She felt her body heave and throb with pleasure. Almost before she'd realised what she was doing her body had taken over and she felt her sex convulse, a sharp, hard, almost painful contraction, followed by a slow, soft, infinite softness. Then she was melting over Susie's tongue, a flood of juices running over Susie's mouth as Stephanie's orgasm raked through her body.

  Stephanie sipped her second vodka martini and looked out of the window. They were over the foothills of the mountains now, though these were still covered in snow.

  After putting the glass down, Stephanie stepped into the shower and let the water cascade over her body. The shower in the plane was small but effective, and she adjusted the water so it was only slightly warm.

  This was, she thought, the only way to travel. She dried herself thoroughly, dabbed her body with Joy 1000, pulled off the shower cap she had used to protect her hair and redid her make-up before climbing back into her lacy white bra, suspender belt and French knickers. Finally, she rolled the opaque white stockings up her long legs. Her body still hummed with pleasure. As she pulled on her blouse and skirt she made a final check of her face, then unhooked the yellow jacket from the back of the door and slipped into her boots, zipping them up at the side.

  The captain announced that they would be landing in Munich in fifteen minutes just as Stephanie rejoined Devlin in the main cabin. He had already showered and looked more than a little bemused - like a little boy given too many presents at Christmas.

  'Are you all right?'

  'Fine. Tired, that's all. I've never had such...' he couldn't think of the word, '...experiences.'

  'Oh yes you have. How many times have you got Susie to use that little toy?'

  'I didn't mean that. It's just something about you, Stephanie. You're so... direct. So sexy.'

  'You didn't answer my question.'

  'What question?'

  'How many times, with Susie?'

  'Not often. When we were alone on the plane. Never since I met you.'

  'I'm not jealous, Devlin. Just curious.'

  'But I never...'

  'Never fucked?'

  'No. Only you would have done that. It was fantastic.'

  'I know. I was there too.'

  'You always make everything so special.'

  Stephanie smiled and pressed the call button on her seat. Susie appeared from the front cabin, neither her face nor her body giving any hint of what had occurred.

  'Let's have another vodka martini. And a toast.'

  'To what?' Devlin asked.

  'To our holiday, of course. I have a feeling we're in for a very interesting time.'

  'Very interesting,' Devlin repeated.

  As Susie mixed the drinks, Stephanie watched her neat precise movements and felt a slight flutter inside her sex. She wouldn't forget what Susie had done to her.

  Chapter Five

  Susie unlatched the cabin door and the landing steps extended hydraulically from the belly of the plane. They had not landed at the main international airport at Munich, but at a small private airfield to the south.

  'Well, Susie,' Stephanie said as she disembarked, 'I look forward to my next flight.'

  'Yes, madam.' The resentment and disapproval that had always accompanied Susie's polite remarks up to now had disappeared. It had been replaced with what Stephanie could only describe as an overtone of longing and even of lust. 'So do I, madam. I hope you have a lovely holiday.'

  'Perhaps it's time you had a holiday too, Susie,' Devlin said, as he came up to join them. 'You've never been to the castle, have you? I'm sure you'd enjoy it.'

  'You've never been?' Stephanie asked with surprise.

  'No, madam.'

  'Oh you'd definitely enjoy it. I'd make sure of that.'

  'I'd like that madam, I'd like that very much.'

  Stephanie held Susie at the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks before walking off the plane and down the metal steps. The thought of introducing her to the delights of the castle, after what she'd shown herself capable of on the plane, made her body hum.

  A large white Mercedes stretch limousine was waiting at the foot of the ramp, its passenger doors open. It was distinctly colder than it had been in Italy and, as if on cue, just as Stephanie set foot on the ground, big thick flakes of snow began to fall. She hurried into the car. Its engine was running and its heater was on, and the driver closed the door as soon as they were both inside, ensuring that any chill was soon dispelled. He supervised the loading of the luggage into the boot and as soon as this was completed, climbed behind the wheel. Snow was still melting on the shoulders of his grey overcoat as the car set off.

  Through the back window Stephanie saw Susie, seemingly reluctant to go inside, standing on the steps by the cabin door. She was waving one hand, and snowflakes were already peppering the dark green silk dress.

  The Mercedes sped out of the gates of the airfield, and they were soon on the Autobahn heading south. The snow was falling faster now, the car's windscreen wipers working flat out to clear the glass. In the fields at the side of the road the dark ploughed earth was rapidly turning white and the branches of trees were soon fully laden.

  'The first snow of winter,' the driver said in precise English with a heavy German accent.

  'Is it far?' Stephanie asked.

  'Thirty minutes,' the driver replied.

  By the time they pulled off the three-lane Autobahn the whole country had turned white and the snow had eased up slightly. A watery sun was shining through much thinner cloud as the big car drove more slowly along the country lanes, most coated in undisturbed snow.

  If Stephanie had cared to time it, she would have found that it was exactly thirty minutes from the time the driver had spoken to the moment he pulled the car to a halt. They were at the entrance to a long winding driveway where large wrought-iron gates were set in elaborate brick pillars. The gates swung open on a signal from a transmitter in the driver's hand. Waiting on the other side was a large open sledge harnessed to four white horses. The driver of the sledge had covered the buttoned-back leather seating with a sheet to protect it from the snow. As Stephanie and Devlin climbed out of the Mercedes he quickly removed the cover and took out a delicately carved wooden block for them to use as a step, then stood waiting with the little half-door open.

  Stephanie settled down into the comfortable leather beside Devlin. Any worries she had that they would be cold were soon dispelled by the driver, who extracted two huge sable rugs from a box opposite their feet. He threw these over their legs, then handed them matching hooded cloaks to wrap around their head and body. Within seconds the fur had taken off any chill they might have felt as the luggage was unloaded from the car.

  As soon as the cases were on board, the driver got up on to the driving platform at the front of the sledge. He picked up the reins and a long whip and cracked it over the head of the leading horse who immediately led
the others off at a walking pace.

  The odd snowflake fell on their faces but under the fur they were perfectly warm. The driveway wound through open fields, then through a thick forest of conifers that seemed to go on forever. Oddly, considering they were travelling on firm-packed snow, the trees and the ground around the track had no more than a sprinkling of white. When they emerged from the woods they were greeted by an amazing spectacle. A vast lake, stretching away to the left as far the eye could see, lay before them. On the other side a mountain rose precipitously, its upper slopes coated with snow. Built snugly at its base was an enormous Schloss, a fairytale castle with tall spires and onion-shaped towers. Part of the lake had been diverted to form a moat, over which there was a small bridge in the same rococo Bavarian style as the castle. A drawbridge and a portcullis gave further protection.

  To complete the idyllic picture, most of the gargoyles and parapets on the roofs and the equally elaborate lintels over doors and windows had been gilted with gold leaf. It looked like the castle in Sleeping Beauty where the Prince had come to wake the Princess with a kiss.

  'Disneyworld,' Stephanie said, laughing and hugging Devlin's arm.

  'It's a bit over the top,' Devlin agreed.

  The sledge moved almost noiselessly, the horses' hooves making no sound as they fell in the snow, the metal runners sliding smoothly and silently apart from a crackling whisper as the blades cut ice. Only a pleasant trilling of the bells attached to the horses' harness filled the air.

  The weak sun was trying to break through the clouds behind the lofty spires of the Schloss, and it had stopped snowing completely by the time the sledge nosed its way on to the bridge. At exactly the right moment, the drawbridge was lowered with a clanking of chains. There was a sharp report as it fell into place. Behind it, the heavy cross-hatched portcullis was winched up with an equal amount of groaning and protesting from the machinery.

  The driver reined the horses to a halt in a large cobbled courtyard. They were now in front of the main entrance to the Schloss, formed by two massive wooden doors, braced by decorative wrought iron and fronted by a portico. The portico roof was a miniature of the spires that dominated the main building. At any minute Stephanie expected a major-domo in pink satin frock coat and satin breeches to walk through the doors.

  Instead, as the driver jumped from his seat to lay out the mounting block and open the half-door, the Baron von Himmstrafer himself threw open one of the huge doors and strode out to meet them.

  'Welcome, welcome,' he said, coming straight up to Stephanie, taking her hand and brushing it against his lips. He did not, as she might have expected from one of his military bearing, click his heels together at the same time. He was dressed in green plus-fours tucked into brown plaid socks and highly polished shoes, and a matching short braided jacket worn over a thick waistcoat. 'I hoped you enjoyed the sledge. It is one of my little luxuries... So romantic.'

  'It was wonderful,' Stephanie said. She had thoroughly enjoyed the experience, the cold air on her face contrasting with the warmth under the sable rugs. 'I'd love to do it again.'

  'You shall, whenever you wish.'

  'I didn't think there was enough snow,' Devlin said as he shook the Baron's hand.

  'There wasn't,' the Baron said. 'We have a snow-making machine. I had it out all morning. But now it looks as though we will have the real thing. Come in, come in! Everything is ready for you.'

  The Baron took Stephanie's arm and led her into the house. Seeing him again had roused the same feelings she had had when they'd met at the castle. He was a big man, tall with obviously powerful muscles, and a ramrod straight back formed by years of military service. Apart from a horseshoe of almost white hair round the base of his scalp he was almost completely bald, his pate shining as though polished. His eyes were an extraordinary colour, a grey so dark it was almost slate. They were penetrating, and added to his overall aura of physical and intellectual power.

  Inside the Schloss the decor was much less extravagant than the exterior, though no expense had been spared. The spacious lobby was floored with pale oak, the walls lined in the palest of cream silks. The impressive staircase was carpeted in black, its banisters made of gleaming stainless steel - the product, Devlin had revealed, that had been responsible for von Himmstrafer's vast fortune. The Baron led them on through a pair of solid walnut doors into a large reception room where logs the size of small trees blazed in an open brick fireplace with a black slate hearth. Big, chunky modern sofas separated by a rectangular occasional table dominated the room. As well as the modern furniture there were several antiques, a Louis XVI table à ecrire, a sixteenth-century oak coffer and two Venetian fauteuil de gonde chairs. Dotted around the room on shelves set in the walls, individually lit, were various objets d'art in porcelain and silver, including a collection of Meissen plates.

  'Please, please, make yourselves comfortable,' the Baron said, waving them towards the sofas. 'May I offer you something? A drink? I have a few bottles of Bollinger '69 left. A great wine. Lost a lot of its vigour now, but not its flavour...'

  'That would be lovely,' Stephanie said.

  'And something to eat? I have planned a rather... let us say, lavish dinner this evening of course, but something light now perhaps?'

  Stephanie looked at the Patek Phillipe. It was three o'clock. 'I'd like to freshen up.'

  'Yes,' Devlin agreed.

  'Then I'll have something sent up to your suite. I think you should have time to settle in. Then I can show you around. There's plenty of time.'

  'That would be perfect,' Devlin said.

  'Let's meet up here then at seven. If you'll excuse me, I'll get Hanna to show you up to your rooms.' After bowing slightly again the Baron strode away and disappeared through a rather inconspicuous door on the other side of the room.

  Up to that point everything had been perfectly normal: normal, that is, for an obviously extremely rich man greeting his latest house guests. Providing snow over a six-mile drive so they could be brought to the Schloss in a horse-drawn sledge equipped with sable fur rugs was certainly extravagant; but it was the appearance of Hanna a few minutes after the Baron's departure that indicated exactly how out of the ordinary their stay was going to be.

  Hanna was a tall, long-legged blonde with large blue eyes, a very straight nose and high cheek-bones. Her height was increased by the boots she wore; their heels were so high that her feet stood almost vertical. The boots were laced tightly up the front of her calves, as was a matching brown leather corset, cinched incredibly tightly around her waist. In fact the corset was no more than a wide belt, curved, boned and secured by leather thongs threaded through eyelets in the front. Above it her small but very round and proud breasts were naked. Below it the triangle of her mound, its neatly shaped blonde pubic hair and the rich curves of her pert buttocks were equally exposed. Her hands and arms were covered by leather gloves, the same colour as the rest of the outfit, which stretched right up almost to her armpits. There the gloves ended in a strap which was buckled tightly around the upper arm, preventing the leather from slipping down.

  But this was not all that was bizarre about her appearance. Around her neck, again in brown leather, though much thicker than the leather of the corset, Hanna wore a broad collar. It was so broad it forced her head up, stretched her neck and made it difficult for her to look down. But the collar did not end under her chin. It was moulded to fit right over the line of her jaw, up over the mouth to just under her nose, thus enclosing the whole bottom half of her head - all the way round the back, too. At each side of the stiffened, moulded leather, just under the ear, a leather strap was fastened, which passed over the top of Hanna's head and held the collar firmly in place.

  It was obvious that the leather over the mouth held in place some form of gag, as Hanna made no attempt to talk. She merely indicated with her hands that they should follow her.

  Stephanie glanced at Devlin as they followed the attractive, leather-clad figure of the girl
out into the hall and up the stairs. She could see him watching the way the girl's buttocks swung from side to side as she tottered on the high heels. Given their height, she walked with an ease that could only have been the result of lengthy practice. As Hanna mounted the stairs, Stephanie too stared up at her long legs, watching the planes and angles of the dark chasm between her legs change with the sensuous movements of her thighs.

  At the top of the stairs, Hanna led the way along a dimly lit passageway, past numerous doors, out into a wider space where two corridors met. Hanna took the left-hand passage, then stopped at the first set of double doors.

  The bedroom was huge. Big picture windows overlooked the lake, and a thick cream carpet coordinated with several other creams and off-whites, on the walls, on the upholstery of a sofa and chairs, and on the counterpane of the large bed. Their luggage had been neatly stacked on folding wooden racks. Hanna opened the doors to show them the wardrobes, the two bathrooms, and a small sitting room. She showed them how all the lights worked, and the telephones, and the two televisions. She picked up a remote control unit - one of two on either side of the bed - and used it to close and open the thick cream curtains, then to reveal a sliding panel that held a bar with every conceivable drink inside, then a fax machine, and finally a Reuters information terminal.

  Her task completed, Hanna stood by the bedroom door as if to ask whether they would require her for anything else.

  Stephanie very definitely did.

  Coming up to her near-naked body, Stephanie looked into her light blue eyes. With her right hand she stroked her cheek, down from where the flesh was unobstructed, over the stiffened brown leather, then beyond the collar to her neck. Her hand reached Hanna's breast. She took it in her palm and weighed it, feeling the nipple as hard as a pebble against her fingers. Hanna remained impassive. She held Stephanie's eyes, staring straight at her with a sort of defiance. She was clearly making an effort not to flinch as Stephanie's hand explored the tight leather corset, down over her pouting buttocks and between her legs until her fingers brushed Hanna's pubic hair.