Justine’s immediate reaction to the question she’d just received from her unwelcome visitor was one of irritation. ‘What am I doing? you ask, Charlotte,’ she said, shooting a piercing look at the young woman who’d just entered the dungeon and who was as naked as she was herself. ‘What do you think I’m doing, on my knees with my thighs apart and my hand where it is?’
Justine then removed her fingers from her sex where she’d rubbed herself all wet and sticky. She placed both of her hands, palms down, in front of her on the dark hardwood floor. Her wrists were locked into black leather manacles, which were connected together by a length of chain. Her ankles were similarly manacled except that these were attached to either end of a metal spreader bar. Trigger clips had been used to attach each end of the spreader bar to bolts set in the floorboards, which had the effect of securing the bar to the dungeon floor.
Justine remained where she was, on all fours, the cheeks of her comely rear splayed apart because of the spreader bar between her ankle cuffs, her large firm breasts made pendulous by the position in which she was now kneeling.
‘My question was a rhetorical one, Justine,’ Charlotte said, a mocking look in her emerald-green eyes. ‘But here’s a genuine one for you. Why are you in here at all?’ She sat down on the lower section of a leather-covered whipping bench that was right in front of Justine, crossing her long shapely legs as she did so. Charlotte’s voluptuous naked body glowed in the half light of the dungeon, her full breasts high and tight, her nipples stone-hard. She had short red hair, big lustrous eyes framed with long lashes, prominent cheekbones, a small straight nose and full sensuous lips. Her soft skin was pale and luminous in stark contrast to the nails of her elegant hands and feet, which were painted
‘You’re a dominatrix, Justine,’ Charlotte went on. ‘You dish out all the pain and torment, all the humiliation; you don’t receive it. Why has Mistress Katya banished you to the old dungeon here? I don’t understand it. Why aren’t you back in the main dungeon, doing your sadistic thing as her second-in-command? Why do I find you in this demeaning position? Why isn’t it me that’s in your place, shackled on my hands and knees? Why isn’t it Tim? Why is it you of all people?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know, bitch,’ Justine sneered, her voice echoing angrily from the dungeon walls. The dominatrix’s mood was black – as black as her shoulder length raven hair and her big almond-shaped eyes. It hadn’t helped that Charlotte had turned up in the dungeon just as she’d been about to climax lavishly as a result of the busy-fingered bout of masturbation in which she’d been engaged. How infuriating was that. Talk about bad timing. Talk about so near and yet so far.
‘And are you going to tell me why you’re here in – what is it Tim calls this place? – “the forgotten dungeon”?’ Charlotte made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.
The big dimly-lit and windowless dungeon they were in and everything within it had been kept scrupulously clean and tidy, likewise the cells and bathrooms that went with the dungeon. It remained fully equipped with dungeon furniture too – a St.Andrew’s cross, suspension machine, horse, bondage table and so on. It had also retained its rack full of canes, paddles, whips and other implements of correction along with a lockable walk-in closet at the end of one long wall, which contained dog collars, wrist and ankle cuffs, hoods, masks, head-pieces, and other BDSM gear. But the dungeon hadn’t actually been put to any use for two years. It had been two years ago that the additional wing – the east wing – of the house in which it was situated had been completed. The work carried out had included the creation of a dungeon even bigger and better than this one, which had effectively become surplus to requirements from that point on. Until now.
The additional wing blended in perfectly with the rest of the house. In fact it had improved on it. This was because the place had always had a slightly lopsided look before its owner, Mistress Katya, arranged for the extra wing to be constructed.The additional wing was as remote from unwanted outside attentions as the rest of the property, which was located well off the beaten track in the leafy depths of rural Sussex.
The garden of the house was wooded on all sides and surrounded by a high stone wall with a heavy wrought-iron gate. The house was very effectively shut off from the Justine in her present circumstances was currently very effectively shut off too – from the rest of the house.
‘Well, are you going to tell me why I find you here in bondage in the forgotten dungeon?’ Charlotte repeated.
The line of Justine’s mouth was resolute and her chin was firm and set. ‘No, I’m not,’ she replied.
‘Want to take a bet on that?’ Charlotte said, her green eyes flickering.
Don’t talk to me about bets because you’d definitely lose this one, Justine nearly said. But she stopped herself. Making such a remark would be stupid, she thought. It would be giving away too much. It wouldn’t help her current situation one little bit, quite the reverse. Instead, she decided, she’d wisely keep her own counsel.
Charlotte gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I can be very persuasive, you know,’ she went on, uncrossing her legs, then opening them. Her pussy was completely hairless and silky smooth, just like Justine’s. It was wet like hers too, glistening with love juice. ‘So, tell me why I find you in such dire circumstances.’
‘No, I won’t tell you,’ Justine rasped. ‘How many more times do I need to say it?’
She added irritably, ‘And close your legs, will you.’
‘Why would you want me to do that?’ Charlotte asked, giving her a mockinnocent look.
‘Because I’m not interested in what you’ve got on display there between your thighs,’ Justine lied. Her body didn’t lie, though. Her pulse quickened and she could feel her skin becoming more sensitive, as if being caressed. Already sexual excitement had crept its way again across her features. Desire had begun to light up her eyes once more, she couldn’t stop it from happening; and her nipples, which had lost their stiffness upon Charlotte’s arrival in the dungeon, had become erect again.
‘Why won’t you tell me the reason Mistress Katya’s put you in here in bondage like this?’ Charlotte asked, opening her milky thighs even wider, wantonly wide. ‘I insist that you tell me. Oh, and I want you to address me as “mistress” from now on.’