Laura and the Impaler

Laura climbed onto the sunbed Velda had saved for her, and picked up the booklet she had put down. There were pictures of young women, chained to the walls, being whipped and branded, of others being spread apart on the rack and sodomised, and of yet more being placed in what she now knew were versions of the 'iron maiden.'

Laura turned the pages, feeling a terrible fascination, and knew that Velda was watching her. She felt herself colouring up under the other woman's scrutiny.

'Well?' asked Velda.

'Well – what?'

'Turns you on, doesn't it?'

'I….I don't know, I really don't!'

Velda looked around to see that no-one was taking any notice of them. They were, to all intents and purposes, hidden between stands of palm-trees. Without warning, she put a questing hand between Laura's legs, right up into the crotch of her flimsy bikini.

'You're soaking wet, darling,' she said, 'there are some things you can't hide.'

So saying, she put the hand to her mouth and sucked it, tasting Laura's sweetness.

'I came down here for a swim,' said Laura, 'but I don't think I have the strength now!'

'Come on,' said Velda, 'let's go to my room, we can swim later.'

When they were alone together, Laura had the sudden thought that, before last night she had never been with another woman – and here she was jumping into bed with a second one. But before she had time to give the matter any thought, Velda had untied the strings of her bikini, and she was completely naked, the more so, it seemed, because she was now clean-shaven.

When Velda stepped out of her panties, she too was devoid of any pubic hair, and Laura saw than she had yet another piercing, a silver ring through her perforated clitoris. She lay back on the bed, legs apart, proud of her silverware, and invited Laura to toy with it, bringing a little 'ooh' from her lips when she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger.

'Do you like me?' asked Velda, her face serious.

'I think I might be in love with you, just a little,' said Laura, 'and I really want you to kiss me. I want to feel your stud in my mouth, and in other places, too.'

She wriggled up the bed, and kissed Velda on her luscious lips, loving the feel of the stud as it darted into her mouth, her juices responding.

'Now let me kiss your cunt,' said Velda, and flipped over, pulling Laura's slim legs apart. Laura felt the new sensation of the little stud flicking her clit, driving her wild, and when the other girl's tongue shot deep into her steaming wet cunt, she bucked and stiffened as she was engulfed by the tidal wave of a massive orgasm.

'God, you came a storm!' said Velda, coming up for air, and Laura lapped the other girl's pussy for all she was worth to try and repay her, drawing a lot of little 'oohs' and 'aahs' from Velda, who stroked Laura's hair as her tongue ran up and down her crack.

But even though she made Velda gasp when she seized the silver clit ring in her teeth, an orgasm wasn't coming any closer, and she looked up into Velda's hooded, hazel eyes, and saw she was smiling.

'What can I do to make you come?' she asked.

'You mean you don't know?' said Velda, teasing her now.

'No, but I want to please you,' said Laura.

'Then you'll have to hurt me,' said Velda, simply.

'Hurt you? You mean…..'

'I mean really hurt me, darling. If you want me to have an orgasm –see me cum, then you'll have to whip me, whip me hard! Think you can do that?'

'I…..I don't know. I've never done anything like that before, I mean…….'

'I'll understand if you don't want to, but I think you are turned on by punishment, too, aren't you, darling?'

'You mean, you really like being whipped?' persisted Laura.

'Come with me,' said Velda, skipping off the bed, and going into the bathroom. Laura followed, and Velda turned on the bright lights over the vanity unit, then angled her shoulders to catch the light.

'Look carefully,' she said, and Laura saw the unmistakeable, fading ladder marks of punishment on her back.

'Who did that to you?' she asked.

'My Master,' said Velda, her eyes filling with tears, as she turned away, 'he was killed in a road accident next day.'

'Oh, darling, I'm so sorry,' said Laura, and Velda told her it had happened two month before. She had booked the holiday in an effort to help her get over him.

'You loved him so much, even though he whipped you?'

'I loved him because he whipped me, darling – I can't ask you to understand. I just wanted to serve him, be his slave. I think I would have died for him.'

'Such love,' said Laura, 'makes me envious! I know it's been taken from you, but I've never known such a love.'

'Do you know what you're saying, Laura?' asked Velda, smiling slightly now, 'that you're envious of my cruel punishment? Is that what you really mean?'

'I…I…don't know – I guess I'm confused,' stuttered Laura, taking Velda's hand in hers, 'I don't know what I think!'

'Come here!' said Velda, and took Laura's head between her hands, seeking her lips hungrily with her own. Laura responded with equal eagerness, her lips open to allow Velda's studded tongue to dart within.

They were still both naked, and Velda backed into the bedroom again, gently pulling Laura with her. Without a word, she went to the open wardrobe, and pulled a thin leather belt from the loops of a pair of jeans hanging there. She double the flexible leather into a loop in her hand, and passed it to Laura, who just looked at it, her mouth open.

'You want me to tie you up with this?'

'No, darling, I want you to flog me with it.'

'But, Velda, I couldn't, really I couldn't!'

'Of course you can. Don't you want me to cum?' Velda was looking at her almost beseechingly, then she turned abruptly, dropped to her knees in front of the bed, and swept her dark mane of hair over her shoulder, exposing the sweep of her naked back. She put her hands behind her head, and half-turned to look at Laura, from under hooded eyelids, her eyes smoky and full of desire, her lips slightly apart, almost pouting, her breathing shallow.

Laura knew what she had to do, although she had never contemplated such a thing in her life. Yes, she had fantasised about being on the receiving end, at least wondered

What it would be like, and, if she was truthful, she had been turned on in that dungeon, but inflicting pain herself……….!

She was holding the belt, nevertheless, and Velda wanted, no, demanded it! Not wishing to let her new friend down, she flicked her across the lower back with the makeshift leather strap.

'Oh, please!' said Velda, 'I mean it, you know, Laura. I want you to hurt me. A lot!'

Laura could see there was no getting out of this, and, drawing her arm back, brought the thin belt whistling through the air to land with a sharp crack on Velda's pale back, just below her shoulder blades. Although a double red line appeared instantly where the belt had struck, Velda neither cried out nor flinched, and Laura knew she had to strike her even harder. Lower down she lashed her, this time raising an angry red wheal on the fleshier part of her back, and causing her to emit a little gasp.

Laura was warming to the task, in spite of herself, and drew a pattern across Velda's pretty buttocks, red stripes now forming with each vicious blow, and Velda's moans could mean only one thing.

'One more! One more, my darling!' she yelled, and Laura whipped her hard across her upper thighs. She pulled Laura onto her, causing her to drop the belt, and Laura felt Velda's whole body convulse as she had the most tumultuous orgasm in creation.

'Oh, thank you, thank you, Laura. That was my first for a very long time,' she said.

'I don't know about you, but I need a shower and a rest before I get ready for dinner.'

Three hours later, Laura wandered into the banqueting hall earlier than she had intended, and checked herself in the mirror at the entrance. She felt pleased with her appearance, in a silky, dark green, knee-length, halter-neck, cocktail-dress she had bought for the holiday. Her unfettered breasts jiggled prettily as she moved, and the feel of her naked pussy, so recently the recipient of so much excitement, was new, strange and thrilling to her. Almost immediately Velda came in, and shocked Laura to the core, when she saw that her new friend, far from covering herself up, had elected to wear a spectacularly backless long white gown, cut so deeply that the start of the crack in her buttocks could just be seen, when she twirled around to show Laura her attire. But the angry red wheals etched across her skin were all-too-obvious, and Laura was astonished at the brash pride with which she seemed to want to parade her wounds, turning her back to people who entered, so that they could see her marks. Several did double-takes as they passed. As they watched the people enter, three unfamiliar faces appeared. One was a tall, stunningly beautiful platinum blonde, with long, straight hair, the other blonde had shorter hair and a curvaceous figure, whilst the third woman was of mixed race, with a pretty face and a shy smile. They all wore long evening gowns.

Laura turned to Velda, about to ask after her sore back, but just then Ilona came up to them, laced into the trademark black 'restraint' dress she had worn the night before.

She put a finger to Velda's back, tracing the line of one of her wheals.

'I see you are friends,' she said, her accent thick and grating, 'that is good!' Before either could reply, she let her long finger, with its extravagantly long red-painted nail, trail over Velda's shoulder, and brush Laura's nipple as she moved away, glancing back at them meaningfully over her shoulder for the briefest of instants.

'God, I'd love her to eat my pussy!' said Velda.

'I doubt she'd need a second invitation,' said Laura.

Just then the gong went for dinner, and they took their places at the huge table.

Laura sat beside Velda, and whispered an inquiry as to her sore back.

'It's fine, darling,' she said, 'did you enjoy doing it?'

The question took Laura by surprise.

'I….I don't know, Velda. I didn't want to hurt you, I really didn't, but…..but – I guess I was sort of envious of you. I think so, anyway.'

She felt the electric touch of Velda's hand on her thigh, and that, coupled with talking about the punishment, had her juices flowing yet again. She squirmed on her seat, but Dr. White was demanding their attention.

'You will all have noticed we have three new ladies with us for dinner tonight. They arrived from Stockholm today. They are, respectively, Inger' – and the platinum blonde raised her hand – 'Dagmar' – this was the other blonde – 'and Liv. They have already been shown around the castle, as were you all this morning. After dinner, we have arranged some dancing, but an early night may be in order, because tomorrow the Count is due to arrive early, and wishes to conduct a casting session at ten a.m.'

While they ate, hi-fi equipment was being set up at the far end of the great hall, and as their sweets were served, a variety of music started to issue forth. The scarcity of males was partly rectified by the appearance of Goran, the young driver, and another dark-skinned young local lad, who made a bee-line for the Swedish girls. Dr White was dancing with Madhuri, who was tonight in western dress, a short black velvet cocktail dress showing off nice legs as she danced. To Laura's horror, the gangly Jonathan came quickly around and asked her to dance, leaving his wife with a face like thunder. She had no choice but to accept, and when he held her close on the tiny floor, found he had an immense erection pressing against her stomach. Then she saw that Jakob was dancing with Velda, whilst seated on a sofa, beside the dancefloor, his lovely wife, Myra, was deep in conversation with none other than Ilona. There were, she thought, an endless number of permutations here, but one connection she certainly didn't want to get into, was with the awful Jonathan. Problem was, the poor lamb had the most awesome stalk. The solution was played into her hands – literally. Someone – it must have been the maid- changed the music, putting on a slow, smoochy number, and dimming the lights, right down.

Jonathan's breathing was coming in short gasps, as his knee was between Laura's legs, and his hand crept up her skirt, encountering no opposition, as she wore no panties. He squirmed against her, and eased his forefinger into her unprotected, damp, shaven crack.

She spared a hand to massage his cock outside his trousers, and moaned gently in his ear, then bit his lobe. She felt him stiffen against her, and knew then that he had shot his load, right there, in his trousers, poor man.

'You'd better go and clean up, I think,' she said, and he scuttled off, holding himself very awkwardly. She went and sat down with Sandra and Lavinia, who were chatting about clothes.

'I thought you were dancing with my dear husband?' said Lavinia.

'I think he needed the toilet,' said Laura.

That night Laura slept in the beautiful nightdress that had been left as a gift, and dreamed of being pursued down stone corridors, then subjected to nameless terrors, while wearing just such a garment, like the heroine in so many of the old films she had seen. She was Barbara Steele or one of the other actresses of the past, always threatened with a horrible fate. When she woke up, she wondered if that was the object, somehow, of the exercise.

It was a grim morning, and Laura dressed formally, for the casting, not knowing what to expect, in a pleated cotton skirt and matching jacket over a silk blouse, with a pair of patent heels.

She found at breakfast that Velda had dressed similarly, but when they were all ushered into waiting room for the casting interview, they were placed in alphabetical order.

Inger, the platinum blonde, was apparently called Anderssen, so went in first, to be followed by Laura, then the Epsteins, while Velda was going to have quite a long wait.

After what seemed ages, the tall Swede emerged, looking, thought Laura, a bit shaken, and left without a word.

Dr White gave a signal. It was Laura's turn, and she went in, not without some trepidation, to be faced by two people. Ilona was sprawled along a couch against one wall, wearing a long red scarlet satin gown. It was the first time Laura had seen her in anything other than the severe black corset-dress. Behind a huge desk was the most beautiful man Laura had ever clapped eyes on. He may have been any age between forty and sixty, and had black wavy hair, greying at the temples, and a cross between Cary Grant and George Clooney as far as facial characteristics were concerned she thought, a face that exuded power and sex.

She could hardly speak, and it was just as well that Ilona was introducing her.

'This is Miss Crane,' she said.

'Laura,' she supplied.

'Thank you,' said the God, 'I am Vlad Tepes, direct descendent of the Counts you may have heard of.'

'Yes, of course,' said Laura.

'Take off your clothes please,' he said.

Taken by surprise, she hesitated.

'Is that a problem? If so, I will send for the next woman.'

'Oh no, of course not,' she said, and slipped out of her jacket, whereupon Ilona slid, snakelike, from the couch and took it from her. She unbuttoned the skirt, feeling now a bit self-conscious because she had taken to not wearing any underwear since her episode with Velda. Stepping out of the skirt, she had only to unbutton the blouse, slide it off her shoulders, and she was completely naked.

'Come closer!' Vlad was saying, idly regarding her, as Ilona laid her clothes on the couch.

'Turn around slowly,' he ordered, tapping a Mont Blanc pen on the desk as his deep-set eyes took in her body from head to foot.

'Stop there!' he said, when she had her back to him.

'I see you have no piercings, tattoos, or punishment-marks,' he said rhetorically, then spoke quickly to Ilona in Romanian, whereupon she picked up a clipboard from the desk and ticked off some boxes.

'Now bend over, and part your legs,' he said, quietly, and Laura looked over her shoulder at him doubtfully.

'Do it!' he ordered, sharply, and his tone brooked no procrastination.

When she was in that compromising position, just a metre in front of his desk, he said, 'Now pull your buttocks apart, so that I can see your anus.'

As she complied with his request, she said, 'Is this really necessary?'

'I believe so,' he said, chuckling gently, then said something further in Romanian to Ilona, who wrote on her clipboard.

'You may get dressed now,' he said, and watched her as she did so, a faint smile playing around his handsome features.

'Please sit down,' he said, when she was dressed, then waited while Ilona fetched her a chair, and placed it in front of the desk, then resumed her position on the couch.

'Now,' he said, 'why did you want to come to Transylvania, Miss Crane?'

'From being very young, I have been fascinated by the old horror films, and I have read much about…..about your ancestors, I guess.'

'And what you have seen since you have been here. Does it disappoint you, or come up to your expectations?'

'I love the atmosphere of your castle – I find it very….exciting.'

'Can I ask you something personal? Do you find yourself more than usually sexually aroused here? You don't have to answer that if you don't want to, I'll understand.'

'Why, yes, I do!'

'And how did you react to my dungeons?'

She fell silent, lost for a way to describe her feelings – the mixture of terror and sheer sexual tension that seemed to electrify the air down there – did it have anything to do with what had since passed between her and Velda? All this passed before her in an instant, and, looking at Vlad, she got the feeling that he could read her mind, that he knew exactly what was going on in there. And something else – she suddenly wanted him to fuck her as she had never been fucked in her life, and knew she wouldn't rest until he had.

But he was speaking to her. 'I understand you may be confused, but I also have been informed about your recent liaison with another young lady I am shortly going to interview. This tells me something about you, I suppose you realise?'

'I….I'm not like that, really,' said Laura.

'Oh, and what are you like?' He was making fun of her now.

He turned and spoke to Ilona in Romanian, then said to Laura, 'Please go now. You may relax by the pool for the rest of the morning. Everyone else will be joining you, I think.'

She was swimming slowly up and down the pool, enjoying the feel of the warm water, when Myra walked onto the poolside, wearing, like Laura nothing more than bikini bottoms, but looking magnificent, statuesque, the fine gold chains around her waist and ankle somehow emphasising the tanned beauty of her near-nakedness. She stepped out of her high-heeled sandals, and dived flawlessly in beside Laura, coming up with hardly a ripple at precisely the right spot to cup Laura's breasts from behind as she broke the surface.

'Mmmm,' said Laura, 'where have you been all my life?'

'I thought you were all tied up with Miss Turner.'

'And you with your husband?'

'Touché!' she said, 'but I wasn't being catty, honest! Are we still friends?'

'Of course!' said Laura, 'with Velda it's different, not like with you and Jakob. I want so much for you to understand.'

They went and towelled off. Apart from Inger, reclining on a couch in the far corner, her hair splayed out around her, there was no-one else there, but almost immediately, in walked Jakob, in Bermuda shorts, a towel over his shoulder. He was smiling.