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Review This Story || Author: Frank Watson

Chateau Noir

Chapter Five Beverly

                      CHAPTER FIVE
                        BEVERLY

A small fire had been lighted in Mlle. T.'s private chamber,
a richly appointed, luxurious room panelled in dark wood, as
were most of the apartments at the Chateau Noir.  Upon one
wall of this chamber stood the head of a very large bed,
constructed of ornately carved mahogany, and curtained in red
silk hangings, so that nothing of the mattress or the bed
clothes could be discerned.
	The fire had been set in a medium-sized brick fireplace in
the wall opposite.  And directly in front of this fire,
arranged in a most intriguing position, was young Beverly, the
petite nymph of fourteen who had been the third of Mlle. T.'s
students to whom I had been introduced earlier in the day.
	An ottoman, upholstered in padded leather, with a sort of
frame attached, had been placed lengthwise before the
fireplace.  Into this frame Beverly had been strapped in such
a way as to hold her lying nakedly upon her back with her slim
legs elevated and the junction of her thighs spread into a
very wide "V".
	Mlle. T. approached and spoke, quietly, to the girl.
	"Are you comfortable, Beverly?" she asked.
	"Y-yes, Mistress," Beverly replied timorously.
	"Very good," said Mlle. T.  "We want your position to be
comfortable, Beverly, so that you may concentrate more fully
on the sensations which you are about to experience."
	Mlle. T. knelt down and spoke more softly into the girl's
ear.
	"Some of it will be hard, my dear, but you must be brave. 
Most of your sisters will know ordeals much more serious, so
you must not lose courage.  Remember Karen's appointment with
her serpents of the Nile."
	The girl shuddered, visibly, at the thought of what Karen,
the red-haired student, had been promised earlier.
	"You must not lose your courage.  The discomfort you must
now know will be only prelude to the delights that will follow
soon after.  Without evil, my dear, there cannot be good. 
Without pain, there can be no pleasure.  Do you understand?"
	Young Beverly looked nervously about her, sniffing back a
tear.  "I ... don't know, Mistress."
	"You will understand in time, my dear,"  Mlle. T. said
finally.  "For now, simply, be brave."
	Mlle. T. rose and crossed the room to a bell cord which hung
near the chamber door.  No sound was heard within the room,
but a bell must have rung somewhere in the building, because
in a moment there was a knock and a beautiful young woman of
oriental decent quietly entered with a covered tray.
	"Thomas, this is Jo Lin.  She is one of our special tutors
here.  She is from China.  Our Jo Lin was apprentice to one of
the great houses of Fu Won, and was brought to me, at very
great danger and expense I shouldn't wonder, by your very
uncle."
	The face of the oriental beauty remained composed, but there
was the slightest flicking glance of interest directed towards
me, perhaps in attempt to detect any resemblance between
myself and the relative she had known, I gathered, so
intimately.  There seemed to be a slight note of warm
recognition in the instant before her face returned to an
expression composed peacefulness which I was to learn was her
custom.
	"Jo Lin is a master of certain... therapies... that were
developed by her great people thousands of years ago.  She is
the only expert of her kind in the world."
	Jo Lin smiled, ever so slightly, and gave a barely
perceptible bow of her head, in acknowledgement of a
complement fully deserved.
	"You may make your preparations," said Mlle. T., and the
beautiful oriental, with an economy of motion inherent in the
best of her race, crossed the room, and seated herself upon a
small upholstered stool that had been placed between the
spread-eagle Beverly and the fireplace.
	Mlle. T. motioned quietly for me to follow, as we approached
as well.
	Jo Lin, having settled herself upon her stool, and having
placed the covered tray she had carried with her upon a small
table to her left, turned to examine - as did I, you may be
certain - the naked "V" formed by the widely spread and
upturned legs of the naked girl before her.
	How can I describe the sight that the three of us beheld? 
Beverly, a slight, through undeniably athletic, girl, at the
first fresh bloom of her womanhood, spread openly before us,
the delicate lips of her young sex presented to our view
unhidden, except by its light covering of a down-like fur,
this just slightly darker than the golden tresses that flowed
from the girl's head.
	Although Mlle. T. had described the wisps of Beverly's
nether covering as something which marred her otherwise
perfect beauty, I confess I could not share that opinion. 
Indeed, the delicate strands seemed to me quite few in number. 
And these few yellowish curls seemed to me a pleasant
augmentation, a compliment to the girl's beauty, instead of a
detraction from it.
	I mentioned this thought, quietly, to Mlle. T. and, at the
same time, was somewhat surprised to find myself so bold. 
"You must trust my judgement in this," Mlle. T. replied,
noting my boldness with some pleasure.  "To the client for
which our Beverly is intended, it is a defect.  A defect which
must be corrected and shall be corrected now."
	"Am I to be shaved, Mistress?"  It was Beverly, herself, who
spoke in a small voice that was breathless in timidity.
	"No, my dear," Mlle. T. said, soothingly, and then added,
"Trust me, my dear, and all will be well.  Karl!"
	Karl, the Germanic servant, who had been standing, arms
folded, in another part of the room stepped forward.  In his
hand was a black cloth which I saw to be a large scarf of fine
silk.
	Mlle. T. took the scarf from the large man and once again
knelt by the head of the young captive.
	"Now, my dear, you must wear this cloth as a blindfold.  Do
not be afraid.  It is simply a custom, a part of the
ceremony," said Mlle. T., as she placed the silken blackness
across the young girl's eyes.  In the instant before they were
covered, I saw in those sweet, wide, blue eyes a remarkable
mixture of trust and apprehension, and once again noted the
extraordinary effect that Mlle. T. had upon her young charges. 
Then the eyes were covered and the black cloth knotted tightly
behind the girl's head.
	As soon as Beverly's eyes were covered, there came a change
in Mlle. T.'s expression.  There was a coldness, a cruelty,
that she must have been suppressing while under the young
girl's gaze, but which now radiated in her manner and filled
the room.
	"Karl!"  Mlle. T. spoke again to the manservant, this time
a bit more sharply.
	The man came forward, without a word as always, and in his
hand this time was a short bar of India rubber, some six
inches in length, at each end of which had been attached a
small-linked silver chain.
	The use to which he put the device defined it's purpose.  It
was a "bit", like that used on small ponies, except that this
bit consisted of hard rubber instead of hard steel.
	Before the young Beverly knew what was happening, if, in
truth, she had the slightest idea even then, Karl had placed
the bit securely between her jaws, and he had hooked the short
chain at either end to small, matching eye-bolts set in the
ottoman to either side of the girl's blonde head.
	Now somewhat alarmed, Beverly now reacted with some degree
of fright, struggling to twist her head about, in an attempt
to displace the rubber intrusion.  But the attachment of the
small chains holding the bit in place also served to keep the
girl's head in a fixed position, facing straight forward. 
Finding this side-to-side direction of movement was now
restricted, Beverly tried for the first time to move the rest
of her body.  This was equally impossible.  The straps which
held her hands firmly at her sides, those which secured her
shoulders and upper torso to the padded ottoman, and those
which secured her legs to the frame of the apparatus, all held
Beverly in place, quite immovable.
	For the first time now, the girl began to show elements of
real panic.  But she soon gained possession of herself and,
with some great effort at self-restraint, became still again.
	It was then that Mlle. T. nodded to Jo Lin, and the oriental
beauty slipped the cover from the silver tray placed at her
side.  Upon this tray were an assortment of metal instruments,
which the woman's delicately strong and elegantly manicured
fingers moved among for a moment before selecting from their
midst a small pair of tweezers.
	Now I guessed the exact nature of the ordeal awaiting the
trembling young girl before us.
	"The plucking may begin, Jo Lin," said Mlle. T.
	Beverly's partially covered face registered confusion upon
hearing this word, "plucking."  Then, as Jo Lin leaned close
between the young girl's legs, carefully selected a single,
golden wisp with the silver tweezers, closed its jaws upon it
securely, and slowly began to pull, the girl was in mystery as
to her fate no longer.
	With the first, gentle tug, she let out a startled gasp,
followed by a sharp yelp as the pull gradually became
stronger.  Then there came a wild shriek as the single hair
was pulled, "plucked", rooted from its socket, and Jo Lin sat
back, depositing the plucked curl in a small crystal bowl,
which also lay upon the silver tray at her side.
	As the realisation came upon the girl that this slow,
excruciating process would continue on until every errant
tendril had been plucked from her stinging young womanhood,
she became very frantic indeed.
	There was a continuous screaming, mewing and yelping now,
only slightly muffled by the rubber bit between her tightly
clenched teeth, as these first few curls were extracted from
the sweet junction of her thighs.
	As the process continued, however, Beverly seemed to
somewhat reconcile herself to her discomfort, and manifested
the fact by reacting to the tugs and nips of Jo Lin's tweezers
with only a steady whimpering, punctuated by an occasional
sharp gasp as a particularly reluctant curl put up special
resistance before succumbing.
	Then, as her oriental tormentress moved in to attack those
tiniest of threads, sprouting closest to the very lips of
Beverly's small sex, the girl's earlier shrieks were renewed,
and soon surpassed in volume those that had proceeded them.
	On two occasions the process had to be stopped altogether,
as Beverly's consciousness failed her and she fainted, falling
limp within her bonds.  She was soon revived, however, with a
single whiff from a small bottle which Mlle. T. held beneath
the girl's nose.
	On another occasion, and this as Jo Lin had come to those
final few tendrils that adjoined the girl's nether lips
themselves, the girl became quite hysterical, convulsing in
her bonds and thrashing against her restraints in such a
manner that Mlle. T. actually seemed to fear the girl might
suffer some injury.  Extra restraints were brought in,
attached, and the process was some resumed.
	The entire ordeal lasted for over two hours.
	For some moments after it was finished, I stood by the side
of Mlle. T., as she examined Jo Lin's handiwork.  The
trembling cuntal lips of the nearly exhausted young girl were
now puffed and brightly inflamed, and not one single curl
remained upon the girl's nether region, from lip to mid-thigh. 
To be sure, it was a most arresting sight.
	The girl, herself, was almost insensible by this time.  Her
cries had all but died out by this time, though once every so
often she would give a start and a gasp as if a last forgotten
hair had been plucked.  Mlle. T. explained that these "ghosts"
of her previous pain would return to the Beverly now and
again, possibly for many weeks, but were no real cause of
concern.  Indeed, she assured me that the entire experience
would have no harmful effect on the girl whatsoever.
	"On the contrary," Mlle. T. continued, "the lasting result
of what our Beverly has just undergone will be one that she
will find quite pleasant.  There will be an extra sensitivity
in those tender regions that will manifest itself in an almost
instantaneous state of animal arousal whenever that area is
touched."
	Mlle. T. laughed shortly.  "In fact, you will find little
Beverly will be very busy with herself over the next few days
simply striving to keep her sweet, girlish hungers adequately
satisfied.  She will awake at all hours of the night with a
twinge of her ghost pain, which she will then seek to soothe
with a comforting touch.  Touch will turn to caress, and then
she will be lost, tossing and turning, with her fingers wetly
busy between her legs until dawn.
	"The same thing will certainly happen to her in her bath. 
An innocent effort at cleanliness will result in an veritable
orgy of passion that she will be utterly powerless to resist. 
She will have to be physically carried from her tub, so
delighted will she be with the masturbatory opportunities it
provides her.  She would remain at it all day otherwise!"
	When I seemed doubtful about this, Mlle. T. smiled, somewhat
indulgently, and made a sign to Jo Lin, who, in response,
removed the cover from a small porcelain jar on her tray,
extracting a dollop of what appeared to be some exotic variety
of scented cream.  She proceeded to apply this preparation
gently to the sensitive, reddened lips of sex of the girl who
was the subject of our conversation.
	Beverly reacted with a start, bucking violently against her
restraints, no doubt believing that her ordeal was not yet
over, and was now to be continued.  This startled reaction was
soon transformed, however, into a simple, slight shifting to
and fro of her hips, as far as the still tightly bound young
girl was able to move them.
	"Mmmmmm."  Beverly released a small moan, which was barely
audible.
	Then, as Jo Lin's caresses became somewhat more insistent,
there came a shuddering exhalation, followed by a heaving
intake of breath... a pause... and then a scream that fully
equalled those we had previously heard only in response to her
most intense discomfort.  It was a scream of absolute,
unrestrained orgasm.
	With that, the girl collapsed once more into
unconsciousness.
	Mlle. T. gave me a look of pride at the vindication of her
claims.  "Our Beverly's young body will soon learn to endure
such intense pleasures without lapsing into insensitivity. 
Then, for a time, she will sleep only when completely,
hopelessly overcome with exhaustion."
	She chuckled, "She will be quite a little noise-maker until
then, though.  Karl, we must place Beverly in one of the
silent rooms for a few days, so that her cries at self-play
will not disturb our other students.  See that she has food
and water when, and if, she wants it."
	The servant nodded and, with an approving nod to Jo Lin, and
with a final affectionate glance at the unconscious Beverly,
Mlle. T. led me from the room.
	Mlle. T. escorted me along the many twisting corridors back
to my own bed chamber, where she soon took leave of me, and
where I lay down instantly upon the welcoming bed, exhausted
by all I had seen on this, the first day of my visit to the
Chateau Noir.



Review This Story || Author: Frank Watson
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home