In this installment, cleaning activities are highlighted.
Claire was bored and unhappy. Walking the garden wasn't enough anymore, and reading and listening to music weren't satisfying her needs either. She felt the stirrings of desires in her youthful body. And seeing Pierre working in the stables just made her crave even more intensely. It had been around two weeks since their last secret session in the hidden dungeon. Two long weeks filled with one hindrance after another. She'd wished for another encounter to take place sooner after their last one, but no luck.
Her desires were heated by her husband's absence. He'd been gone for over a month, and they had only exchanged a single message - a letter stashed onto another ship. It was nice to hear from him, knowing he was a good and kind man, but now she realized he couldn't give her one thing she craved - a strong, virile man to satisfy her lustful needs.
Her appetite for Pierre and his skills grew every day. She felt an intense longing for him. The thought of another secret meeting for forbidden sex aroused her greatly. The memory of the dim, lantern-lit room with its cool air caressing her naked skin, the shackles pinning her legs open, and Pierre's skilled hands all over her body excited her greatly. She wanted Pierre more and more. One afternoon, she felt she couldn't bear the wait anymore.
She stealthily walked towards the stables. She barely restrained herself from running but stopped herself before reaching the building. She crept silently, not wanting to alert the horses.
"Hello, Pierre," she whispered.
He started in surprise, thinking she was a thief or other danger. "Hello!" He managed quickly.
"Pierre, I want you to explain the devices in our special room. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Madam. I am at your service." His mind was racing at his thoughts of impending pleasure.
She paused, contemplating what she wanted. "I want it very soon. I think we need a code word for future meetings, don't you agree?"
"Yes, Madam. I am at your beck and call." Inside, he was grinning from ear to ear.
"So, if I send you a message or say it in person, repeating 'Well done, well done' will mean to prepare the room for my instruction. You'll find a candle on the device I wish to learn about, unlit. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Madam. I got it." Happy that they'd agreed, she left a gold coin on the table as payment, then left the stables.
She hurried back home, still excited by her daring attempt. She ordered a glass of wine and tried to focus on the book she was reading. There was something about the text that fascinated her, but she couldn't recall anything she'd read. Her mind was too preoccupied with the future meeting and its torrid possibilities.
That afternoon, Claire couldn't wait any longer. She managed to avoid the servants and made her way down the hidden stairs to the dungeon. She lit one of the candles she'd taken with her and carefully followed the steps. Entering the dark room, she paused at the pillory, reaching out to touch it. She could still feel the vibrations of her past pleasure, the orgasms that had consumed her. Looking around the dimly lit chamber, she spotted a table lined with ropes and a cylindrical device with metal gears. She traced the smooth wood with her hands, recognizing what it was. It was "the rack," known for causing immense pain, but she trusted Pierre, and all she could think about was being at his mercy.
Her choice was made. She put the unlit candle from her things on the rack as their agreed-upon signal. She could hardly sleep that night, excited about their next meeting.
Just before lunch, Claire handed a note to a servant woman to give to Pierre. It praised his ability to cure an ailing horse but also contained the secret code words for their meeting and suggested she'd stroll at 2 pm to enjoy the horses.
Claire prepared herself for their meeting by bathing and taking care of her body. She cautiously made her way to the secret door and entered. Once inside, she unlocked both ends of the tunnel leading to the stables and ensured the room was spotless and the rack was ready. It then dawned on her how heavy the ropes were hanging on the rack, causing a brief moment of awe. Eagerly waiting in the dim light, she hoped he would join her soon.
Soon enough, footsteps approached, and Claire's heart pounded in her chest. He entered the room, grinning at her. His shirt was removed, thrilling Claire. He proceeded to light all the lanterns, filling the room with light once more. As he took on his assumed role, his tone transformed. "Here comes the whore!" he exclaimed in a domineering voice, causing her arousal to heighten.
She understood that initially, his sudden change in demeanor seemed abrupt, but she knew it was what she had desired when they were in this very room together. To be controlled by him, escalating her pleasure and desire. "Whore, why are you dressed? Did you steal those clothes? They're too fancy for a slut like you!" he snarled. "Take them off right away!"
Shakily, she unmanned her gown on the pristine floor. Pierre surveyed her body and said, "You're quite a specific whore. I'm looking forward to enjoying you quite a bit, you nasty whore."
Claire blushed and trembled under his gaze, finding herself standing by the foot of the rack, the apparatus she had signaled her desire to experience. Pierre walked over and pulled her hair, leading her towards the side of the rack. He raised her up and began binding her hands and feet.
She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, and it dawned on her that he seemed well-acquainted with the device. Was it instinct, or had he used it before?
Pierre was finished, and he made his way to the head of the rack. Turning the wheel, he tightened the ropes, pulling her along the wooden surface. The machinery made loud clunking noises as the gears engaged one after another. Scared, she let out a small shriek. Stepping out of character, Pierre asked, "Are you alright, Madame?"
Breathless, she confirmed, "I'm fine. Just startled for a moment. Please continue."
Pierre stopped tightening the ropes once he felt she was taut enough, but not injured. He then heard a loud noise, determining it to be a locking mechanism to hold her in place. Unlike most racks, her arms were pulled upwards, aligning with her head, while her ankles and feet were pulled downwards and outwards. Her private area was now fully exposed and vulnerable.
Stretched out, Clair gazed at the stone ceiling, contemplating how many women had suffered and been used in this room. Deep in thought, she was jolted by a sudden sensation. A sack was pulled over her head, and a rope was tightened loosely around her neck to secure it. Typing through the cloth, she protested, "Pierre, what are you doing?"
Shortly after, Pierre's voice echoed across the room, "Sir, she's all prepared according to your request, fully helpless and ready to be used. You can trust that this whore is a fantastic fuck toy. I've experienced it firsthand."
Feeling betrayed by Pierre's betrayal, she cried out in dismay. She felt someone climb onto the table, their weight pressing against her. A moment later, she felt a penis at her pussy lips, and with a rough, sudden thrust, it penetrated her.
She was talking with astonishment and dread. The man's fragrance struggled through the fabric sack into her nostrils. "Wait," she believed, "that's Pierre's scent, and that penis felt incredibly familiar." Her eyes popped open in the sack's darkness. "He's performing some kind of act to really terrify me, and humiliate me!" Despite the initial shock and embarrassment, she was now ecstatic that he had gone to the trouble to imagine this scenario to intensify her reactions. Pierre resumed pumping, and she swiftly got lost in a fantasy realm of sex. She came multiple times before he took off the bag and had her finish him off, with her mouth sucking his semen. The salty taste and aroma of his semen made her toes curl with bliss. Pierre had once again given her the sort of encounter she craved, and she was highly satisfied with him.
"I'll need to give him another gold coin," she mused, smiling and licking the extra drops of semen off her lips. "I wonder what else he might arrange for me?" He loosened the brake from the device and the ropes became slack, allowing him to untie her and take her to a chair. She snuggled up to him as he situated her on his lap, spooning her. Breast to chest, they could feel their hearts beating at a rapid pace, the powerful thumps gradually subsiding as the pair calmed down once more.
That experience was so satisfying that nearly a month went by before Claire felt annoyed by not having another 'alone time' with Pierre. Her encounters with him had provided her with enough material for self-gratification, which was good, as she had a number of household duties to manage. She had to hire a new maid, discuss the various plantings around the estate with the head gardener, and also decide what needed to be planted in the food garden. And that decision involved the chef as well, requiring conversations with the sous chef and dessert chef. Claire was content to have these responsibilities, knowing that her husband had entrusted a major part of the property's affairs to her and wanting to do a competent job.
One day, the weather was rainy and gusting, whipping the trees around. It wasn't a nice day for humans or animals, as they put it. Claire was in the sitting room, warm and cozy by the fire, battling the chill in the air. A servant darted into the room where Claire was sitting and reading.
"Madam, a messenger has a letter for you in the entrance hall," the maid reported.
"Just take it to me."
"I'm very sorry, Madam, but he stated he must hand it directly into your hands."
Claire walked through the house, annoyed at being interrupted from what she'd been doing. She'd left behind that warm blanket that dispelled the chill from the rain, so she shuddered a little as she walked. As she entered the hallway, she observed a slickered, dripping gentleman with a shoulder bag.
"This must be important for you to brave this messy weather," she commented. "May I assist you, Sir?"
"Are you the lady of this household?"
"Yes I am."
"I have a letter for you, Ma'am. Please sign here."
Claire signed the paperwork and the gentleman opened his bag, presenting her with a sealed letter. "Ma'am, the guidelines necessitate that you break the seal in my presence."
Claire broke the seal and read the letter. It was a formal correspondence relaying that her husband's ship had been lost in a storm and, unfortunately, he hadn't survived. His body was found but was in poor condition, so they had to bury him in a local church. Reading these fatal words, Claire went into shock and her vision blackened as she fainted in the hallway! Servants rushed to her aid to catch and stabilize her. When she regained some control of her legs, they helped her get to her room.
She was distressed. "He was a decent man who had rescued me from poverty and treated me kindly," she reassured herself, saying a prayer for his soul. She felt terrible. She felt like she had betrayed her husband and was now regretting her actions with Pierre. Assembling the household staff, she solemnly told them, "My husband, your master, has perished. This home will now be in a state of mourning. I won't be welcoming guests until I feel well enough."
A footman relayed the news to the staff who worked outside the house in the stable and gardens. Upon hearing the news, Pierre grew concerned about Claire. He sent her note after note inquiring about her condition but got no response. Unable to bear the uncertainties any longer, he cleaned himself meticulously to be presentable, entered the house, and knocked gently on her door.
Claire opened it and saw him standing there, looking sad and apologetic. "Madam, I was concerned about you. I am so sorry about your loss." Hearing that, she burst into tears and entered her bedroom, leaving the door ajar. A little hesitant, he opted to follow her.
Pierre, kindly shut the door and draw near. I'm desirous of merely murmuring my thoughts. Upon your compliance, I disclosed, "Poor Pierre, I'm distraught. I recognized I had infidelity in my heart. This isn't your burdensome affair - it's only mine. I am powerless to circumvent this predicament. I'm yearning to be chastised for my actions. I insist you grant me this requited chastisement." While she sobbed softly, her voice faltered. "Sentiently help me... chastise me!"
Pierre was somewhat taken aback at her confession. He analyzed swiftly, desiring to provide support. "I've got a brace of concepts, darling. As I was reconfiguring the locale, beneath a blanket collection, I unearthed a thing which might align with your request. I encountered additional things while I was tending to the space as well."
"Anything, Pierre! But I must evade marks if you're aware."
"Yes, my dear. The goods I discovered are capable of punishing you and inflicting embarrassment for your transgressions until you're reassured."
Pierre gave her a few days to recuperate. Her legal duties swamped her, as her husband Olivier must have perceived the voyage treacherous and therefore redesignated items in her name just in the event something transpired.
Rene received the revelation that she had amassed a considerable fortune and enjoyed the liberty to perform as she wanted, which eventually antagonized the guilt in her soul.
Upon regaining a modicum of equilibrium, Claire sent a note to Pierre inclusive of their secret signifiers and inquiring regarding the optimal time of interaction. Pierre responded, inquiring her to convene with him in the chamber two days subsequent to that moment, at two hours following noontide. He sought to divulge his probable responses to her proposition.
Two days hence, Claire put on her daytime dress and traveled to the concealed doorway. She'd brought a torch with her yet found that the access route was well illuminated already from the lanterns. She'd previously disclosed the undercover door from her abode, so Pierre might have entered the dungeons from the estate to ignite the lanterns and open the other scars. As she unlocked the ultimate door she noticed Pierre and folded into his embrace. He embraced her tenderly and offered solace.
"Madame," he inquired tenderly, "Are you still convinced you need to be chastised?"
"Yes, Pierre, I continue to be in want of your assistance. But remember, Pierre, my esteemed reputation in the populace,"
"I've conceived the answer, Madame. I shall refrain from marking you, but you'll comprehend your chastisement. Concur, dear?"
"Yes, Pierre. I trust you,"
As the lanterns affirmed the entire chamber, he summoned her towards a bulky wooden frame. "Disrobe yourself entirely, prostitute," he instructed. She obliterated her clothing and soon stood precisely as she'd been birthed, her nude body glistening in the lantern effulgence. He transported her beneath the frame and spliced her hands together to a tether pureed down and pulled at its free end. Her arms were dragged upward and upward until she was firmly upright and positioned there, her nude body gleaming in the lantern light.
Pierre then secured tethers to her ankles and wishbone her legs apart, attaching the ropes to sides of frame adjacent its foundation. She realized currently her limbs were indisputably imprisoned but relatively congenial relatively. He proceeded towards a table and fetched something from a drawer. The apprehension increased within her as she confirmed the apparatus's identity. Renamed this apparatus, she had no cognizance of its moniker, yet she comprehended its function.
"I'll reprimand you with this cat, impure slut. I guarantee your skin won't acquire scars, but you'll feel a great residence of pain with this." He lingered in the rear of the frame, knowing the tension would exacerbate the preliminary blow. After a minute or two, he choreographed his impressive arm posteriorly and navigated the flogger's strands across her shoulder blades. A screech issued from her. He issued additional strokes upon her buttocks, conscious they could endure a stroke readily. Her wailing was consumed by the dense dungeon walls as she involuntarily hoisted up on her toes.
Thereafter, Pierre peered at Claire's demeanor. She was bawling yet still refused to negotiate. Recognizing she required this rebuke, he flogged her bosoms, stomach, and the fronts of her thighs, rendering them a pinkish hue. Cognizant she was poised to plead for intercession, he targeted her muliebrity, strumming the strands ever so softly yet vigorously, resulting in her rising up on her toes from the pain.
Pierre gave a nod and returned the flogger to its designated spot. He waited patiently for Claire's discomfort to subside and her gaze to sharpen. "As per our agreement, you won't carry any visible signs of discipline, but you've endured the pain of atonement. I'm pleased with how well you withstood it," he remarked. "Are you content with having been penalized for cheating?"
"Yes, Sir. It almost feels like I've made amends for my wrongdoings. Thank you for understanding my plea."
"Does that mean you're completely satisfied with the justice served, slut?"
As the throbbing dissipated and the smell of perspiration filled her nostrils, Claire felt a lingering desire. Wondering what Pierre might have in store next, she whispered, "Um... not entirely, Sir. Do you still intend to mete out further retribution?"
He disappeared from her line of sight but could be heard shuffling around behind her. He posed one final query, "Claire, if you still crave to be reprimanded, this is your final opportunity to decline."
Her arms securely bound above her, Claire's head drooped as her limbs were in such close proximity. Trusting Pierre wouldn't mar her body, she replied in a quiet tone, "I'm submitting to your punishment, Sir."
Pierre emerged back into view and positioned himself behind her. She felt a chilly sensation brush against her back. He inquired, "Claire, do you genuinely want to be disciplined? This is the last chance to resist."
With her limbs secured, Claire couldn't see what was happening. She was relieved that Pierre would refrain from marking her and avoid causing any irreversible damage to her physique. "I consent to your punishment, Sir," she whispered while still feeling remorseful for her actions.
Pierre positioned himself close enough for her to sense the warmth of his body. Suddenly, a cold metal band encircled her waist. He moved around the front of her and slid a metal strap between her legs. He connected the metal elements, asking a final question, "Claire, do you still wish for discipline?"
Using his voice as a guide, Claire watched as a lock was inserted into a metallic ring and clicked shut. She observed the apparatus and realized it was a belt. With a newfound dread, she attempted to remove the tantalizing contraption, but unsuccessfully. "Please, Sir, remove this contraption."
He reminded her, "You're the one who requested this penalty, so you'll wear this belt until I see fit. Now, gather your attire and head back upstairs."
"But Sir... how can I go on with normal activities in this situation? I'll be discovered and shamed!"
"You'll have to maintain your composure and live up to societal expectations like a proper woman," he advised and exited the room.
As the reality of her situation sunk in, Claire was infuriated and prepared to get dressed. She soon discovered she couldn't put on certain undergarments. Her humiliation deepened as she made her way back down the hall, clanking her way out the escape route Pierre had taken. She locked both doors before him. Trying different directions, she discovered that she could walk smoothly without making any noise. The belt practically moved in sync with her body.
She ventured back up to her bedroom, locking it before getting undressed. Looking in the mirror, she noted, "Being confined in this way by an attractive man somehow feels intriguing." But the realization that she couldn't touch herself for pleasure only enhanced her arousal. She found that stimulating her breasts and nipples was sufficient, but couldn't achieve climax in such a manner. Her punishment was now complete.
She practiced maneuvering about the room to maintain the silence from the chains. Over time, she mastered walking alongside the belt. The smooth, feminine strides garnered admiring glances from townspeople, adding to her reputation as a dignified lady.
Claire requested Pierre to periodically unfasten her belt for a thorough body cleaning. They utilized these moments to showcase more of the dungeon's equipment and indulge in mutual pleasure. As she was no longer married, this arrangement no longer felt like infidelity. Instead, it was Pierre fulfilling their mutual requirements. Post-pleasure, Claire always asked Pierre to relock the belt, at least temporarily. She purchased a chain for him to wear the key to the padlock's lock around his neck, representing a secret shared between them.
Over time, Claire embraced the notion that her immense wealth allowed her to execute her desires, as her staff had no wish to jeopardize their inhabitants. She began to entertain fantasies concerning other activities she and Pierre could engage in.