"Yes, that's it. Let your body move as it will." The Lady breathed in her ear from behind. Dorée's mind reeled at the confusion of being touched from below and spoken to from above. She realized it must be Juliet who was kneeling between her legs, dragging perfectly manicured nails down the insides of her thighs. She trembled at the knowledge that her Mistress would see every response, every tell-tale reaction, to whatever Juliet did next.
What Juliet did was certainly enough to provoke Dorée, for suddenly there came a sharp pain in her thigh, followed by something hot and wet. A bite and then a lick, smoothing over the pain with pleasure. Dorée let a little moan vibrate her throat. The bite came again, lower down her thigh and harder on her soft flesh. Then again and again. On the last bite, the soothing tongue flicked in to the tender bud at the top of Dorée's cleft. Dorée's back arched. She'd known that her body was acutely sensitive there, but she hadn't imagined how intense even the softest touch would feel.
Juliet laughed low in her throat, and this time it was not a giggle. It was a tigress's growl.
The tongue came again, tipping and tapping, teasing in fashion at once gentle and insistent. Dorée's hips squirmed as the intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm her at once. Juliet moved lower, spreading Dorée's lower lips and plunging her tongue between them. The sensations modulated, becoming deeper and not so ticklishly intense. But there was no respite from stimulation. As she lapped, Juliet found Dorée's thighs and pushed them up so that her feet were resting on the bottom of the bench with her knees steepled. The wicked girl fondled the undersides of her legs and buttocks, sometimes stroking, sometimes scratching, sometimes pinching and then kissing the spot of pain. Dorée began to cry out in earnest now. It all felt so good. A yearning kindled in her, or rather, a kind of urgency. It was not just that she wanted to feel more; rather, it was that she could not stop. The course of pleasure had been set into motion, and she knew in the deepest crevice of her being that it had to come to completion.
Suddenly, a cool, smooth hand traced down her throat from behind. The Lady's hands were on her. Dorée could feel her long, pointed nails -so much sharper than Juliet's- brushing the throbbing vein under her jaw. Ever so lightly, their needle points followed her clavicles to the centre of her chest. Then both hands spread out to cup her breasts. As Juliet's tongue delved into her sex, the Lady's hands increased their grip. Her nails found Dorée's tender nipples. A high, sweet sharpness flooded Dorée's body. The Lady's vise-like grip held for just longer than she thought she could bear. At the moment the nails released, Juliet's tongue returned again to the pearl at the top of Dorée's cleft.
More vigorously now she lapped and swirled over that most sensitive point. Dorée's voice rose with her cresting pleasure. Her body came up off the tilted bench as her back arched even harder than before. She felt her bottom begin to slip off the padded cushion. The Lady's hands came down, pressing her breastbone firmly and holding her to the bench. At the same time, Juliet's hands caught her from below, gripping her thighs below the knees. Her sex was pushed down harder against Juliet's face, and Juliet ground her tongue against Dorée's most tender point with ravenous abandon.
And then it was as if the sun had burst inside of Dorée's body. From the radiant point under Juliet's tongue, it suffused the throbbing flesh of her sex, and then her calves and thighs, her belly and breast, and burst from her throat in a scream so loud it echoed in the marble hallways outside the chamber doors. She could feel the Lady's hands still on her breastbone, and the steady, reassuring pressure there was like a blessing, a benediction laid on her pleasure. The burning light of the sun cooled, dimmed, and left Dorée peacefully adrift in the darkness behind her blindfold.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that starburst, Dorée found within herself a new world, nova-born. She was astonished to find that the experience of carnal pleasure was not degrading or disgusting, as she'd assumed. In fact, it was an ecstatic rapture that moved her spirit as well as her body. It reminded Dorée of a time when she was very young, when her still-living birth-mother had taken to hear a great choir performing in a cathedral. She had been amazed, then, at how those heavenly voices not only struck her ears, but resonated inside her breast as if stroking her soul itself. It was terrifying and wondrous at the same time. Now, her climaxes stirred in her the same holy ecstasy.
Over the following days, she became more aware of her body's cravings for that sublime pleasure, and less able to hide or deny them. The Scarlet Lady and her Companion rarely denied Dorée the indulgence of her pleasure. They tried her on the bench again, and on the hearthrug before the mantle, and bent over a couch. It was always Juliet who acted in accordance with the Lady's wishes and applied her skilful tongue to various portions of Dorée's anatomy. But the Lady was also there with her hands on Dorée, and it was she who gave Dorée the sensation of being blessed and favoured.
One night, however, just as Dorée was being bared for the feast, Juliet stopped and called her Lady over. A finger stroked her sex and there was a pause. Then, Dorée felt her legs being gently let down. The Lady's voice was cool and imperious.
"Your woman's courses have come. We must stop your training for now."
Despite herself, tears flooded Dorée's eyes.
"But, my Lady, why? I have had my courses each month since I arrived, and still I served. Is this any more unclean than what we have been doing so far?"
"Not unclean. No, never that! But it is the Duc's commandment. He says that when blood is shed in this Chateau, he is the one who must shed it. None of this promiscuous spurting. You are to be on work duty only. Have you not noticed it each month? Perhaps not, since you haven't been used this way before."
"And you cannot defy him?"
The Lady's eyes narrowed and her voice became positively arctic.
"Do not let your newfound sense of power in pleasure deceive you. You are still his slave, and you will follow his commands. It would not be defiance on my part if I took you here and now; I can do whatever I will. But you would be in breach if you came to climax, and I highly doubt your ability to control yourself at this stage. Do as I say. Off to work with you."
"And I'm off to repeat every word of this conversation to the Duc. Won't he love it! I foresee a different Test for our Golden Girl." Her Companion said with gleeful malice.
Juliet must indeed have reported everything to the Duc, for soon enough a new order came. Dorée was to sweep the entire South Wing this week, not only the Lady's chambers. To do it, she was given only an old straw broom and a warped copper dustpan. She did not dare beseech the Lady for new ones, as she could tell by her Mistress' cold demeanour that it would be a futile effort. She also understood that this must be another test. So she took the paltry supplies and walked with heavy feet to the far end of the South Wing.
Never had Dorée felt more at the whim of others. When she was punished for wrongdoing, she could accept her penance. When she was teased by others, she could brace herself against them. But to have the fire of her pleasure lit and stoked only to be snuffed out again was another level of cruelty altogether.
"Kindess is cruelty," she murmured to herself. Tears sprang to her eyes. Had Berenice known this same torment?
Well, if she was meant to work, then work she would. Dorée bent her head in resignation and crouched to whisk the pile of dust she'd swept up into the dustpan. But here was a new challenge. The pan was too warped to accept the debris. Some of the larger bits went in, but most of the fine dust went below the pan or scattered around it. She swept the dust back up and tried again, but it was clear that the pan's lip was too far askew. Dorée stared at it, thinking,
'Should I ask my fellow servants for another? No, they would never give it to me. I'm sure this is all part of their nasty game. Oh, why do I endure this?'
Her shoulders shook with tears of frustration. She very nearly threw the dust pan to the ground in spite. But just then, something caught her eye. Lying on the floor near a gentleman's writing desk was a large piece of parchment marred by a black stain, as if from a spilled ink-pot. It had been tossed carelessly on the floor -the nobility were not at all interested in cleaning up after themselves- where it had been sitting for some time, given the dust on it. As she looked at that parchment covered in dust, an idea occurred to her. Taking it, she rolled it into a broad cone and pushed the closed narrow end up into the hollow handle of the copper pan. The flat edge hung out well over the warped copper. Holding it gingerly against the floor, she was able to sweep the dust into it much more easily.
With a quiet smile, Dorée set to work again. She hoped someone was watching her, so they could see her small victory over this test. If they made her work, she would do it. If they gave her challenges, she would overcome them. And if they then decided to grant her pleasure as a reward for her unexpected success, all the better.
Dorée, as you may have guessed, was a rather clever girl in her practical way. But the Duc was also a clever man, and not one who took kindly to being outwitted. The Lady's Companion was indeed watching Dorée and waiting to tell delicious tales of tears and frustration. When she reported how Dorée had taken pride in doing a task meant to humble her, the Duc was piqued. Then, after some thought, he became amused. Finally, and most fatally for Dorée, he grew determined to play the next move in the game personally.
