Dear reader, this story is coming to an end. This is the ultimate part and I hope it stimulates you. My husband enjoyed it. I enjoyed the after-effects.
*
One morning, a week after James had driven to Corfu Town to consult Master Peter, James casually informed Emma that a few couples were coming over that evening.
'Be ready, my sweet. Be clean and beautiful. I want to show you off to a few people. It's a compliment to you and the cosmetic surgeon at the Castle. Wear the black net negligee and the stockings and have a nap -- it's going to be a long night!'
Emma obediently followed James's order and with a few butterflies of fear mixed with anticipation, she was ready to meet the guests for dinner.
The women were some ten years older than Emma and some of the men were in their sixties, with an air of authority and a sexy cragginess that reminded Emma of her father.
One of the men stroked Emma's hair and lifting her chin with his fingers, said 'Hmm, James, she's a pretty one. Obedient?'
James frowned and took a step back to regard his wife, as though seeing her for the first time. He twisted his mouth a little in distaste.
'She's obedient right enough, Master, but she's too wanton -- a bit easy. I'm not sure that she really understands who holds the power in the marriage. She needs to learn who is the man -- oh and also, that I own her. She's mine.'
Emma was horrified. She flushed red and looked at the floor. This was torture.
Thirty minutes later, Emma knew what torture was. She was tied, spread-eagled to a large X shaped frame and pulled wide open, for all to see.
The women ran their hands over Emma's soft skin and stroked her hair. 'Poor little bitch. I don't envy her, but apparently, she's got the SubStim. Here --' and the woman pushed the small button to the right of Emma's pubis and she gasped as the sexual stimulator set her body thrumming with arousal and desire.
'Wow,' one of the other women ran a finger down Emma's left inner thigh and Emma almost cried out with the intensity.
'This is a great invention. I think the Castle is onto a winner here. How long before it's marketed?'
The other woman paused and stroking Emma's left breast, 'Well, I reckon about six months. It depends on the trials and who runs the clinics, but I think we'll be showing a profit at the end of this year.'
Emma, in her dazed and heavy arousal, wondered what they meant.