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Review This Story || Author: Frank Watson

Chateau Noir

Chapter Seven The Water-Clock

                     CHAPTER SEVEN
                    THE WATER-CLOCK

Time.  As I reflect back upon my days at the Chateau Noir, I
am arrested by the images and symbols of time that surrounded
me always.  The clocks, which seemed to be everywhere, upon
mantels, in the girl's bed chambers, in the long, meandering
hallways and in the secret passages winding throughout the
building.  Even the neighbouring stables were equipped with
timepieces of one kind or another.
     And apart from this, the ever present reminders that
time, as well as the regimentally designed and controlled
experiences of the girls at the Chateau Noir, was bringing
subtle changes in the girls themselves.  The slow, gradual,
almost imperceptible changes from young girlhood into blooming
young womanhood, the swelling of breasts and hips to the riper
fullness of approaching maturity, the darkening of bright
countenances as age and experience carried the students at the
Chateau from the sparkle of fresh innocence through the
slight, unavoidable tarnish of gained experience and knowledge
and then, finally, into the full and fruitful blossoming of
real awareness of the true and irresistible power of the
female sex.
     But I am getting ahead of my story, for none of the
truths, none of the real truths about Mlle. T.'s purposes at
the Chateau Noir had become known to me at the time of this,
my first morning's tour of the school's training rooms.
     Having left the beautiful young blonde student of the
events of the preceding chapter resting in preparation for
another session under the lash, I followed Mlle. T. through a
small passage connecting the Chateau's music room with
another, much larger chamber beyond.  Like the room we had
just vacated, this chamber was panelled in dark, polished
wood, but unlike the other room the walls of this chamber also
appeared to have been lined with cork at certain points.  Odd-
shaped squares and ovals of this material had been inlaid here
and there.  Mlle. T. offered an explanation for this some time
later.  The sections of cork had been placed upon the walls as
a means of dampening down the acoustics of the room.  As a
result of these installations, even the sharpest, most
piercing cries uttered within this chamber would amount to but
the tiniest of squeaks if heard from outside the building.
     I say that Mlle. T. offered this explanation of the
room's unusual-looking decorations at a later occasion.  That
is because when I first entered this particular room my
attentions were exclusively drawn to a truly extraordinary
apparatus that had been constructed upon its northernmost
wall.
     This machine consisted of a huge wooden frame, the dark
wood of which appeared to have been polished to a smooth, rich
gleaming finish that glowed warmly in the candlelight, for the
room had no windows at all in the high panelled and cork lined
walls and so, the bright sunlight of autumn from without
having been sealed away, candles provided the only light
within.  These candles stood in elaborately wrought artifices
of iron, standing at each of the room's for corners, and
holding the shafts of at least a dozen candles each.
     Apart from the aforementioned massive frame of polished
wood, so massive, indeed, that it appeared to have been
securely, and necessarily, anchored to both floor and ceiling
with a series of equally massive iron bolts, the device
consisted of a mysterious conglomeration of interlocking cogs
and wide leather belts running in a circular confusion, the
design of which I found completely unfathomable.
     Centred at the top of this amazing apparatus was a large
wooden clock face nearly three feet in circumference, the
hands of which, both hour and minute, were currently joined
straight up at the number "Twelve" painted in black Roman
numerals, as were all the symbols upon the clock's polished
face.  The hands of the clock were not in motion at the
moment, as I discerned from glancing up at the face a moment
or so later as my examination of this baffling device
continued.
     Also near the ceiling of the room's north wall I noticed
a configuration of tubes and water pipes descending from just
below the ceiling and running downward until they were lost in
the confusion of the apparatus itself.  The uppermost pipe
opened out into a sort of funnel just below the ceiling, and
just above this upturned funnel I now took note of a small
hole in the ceiling itself.  Both funnel and the hole under
which it had been arranged appeared to be somewhat water-
stained.
     The lower portion of the complicated apparatus consisted
of a sort of table, upholstered and padded in dark, well-worn
leather to which leather straps had been bolted in a
configuration much like on other such tables I would see
elsewhere in the various other training rooms at the Chateau.
     At one end of this table and levelled an inch or so above
its surface there appeared to have been positioned a long,
smooth shaft of what looked like the finest, polished steel,
nearly three feet in its total length as it protruded from the
clockwork of the machine and extended over the end of the
leather-padded table for the final foot of that length.  This
smooth, metal shaft, which gleamed mirror-like in the
candlelight, tapered from a three-inch width at its source,
where it disappeared within the machinery to about an inch at
its rounded near extremity, that being the portion which
overlapped the table.
     Mlle. T. stepped toward the huge device and with a
knowing hand sought out a small hand-crank beneath the foot of
the padded table.  There was a well-oiled, but slightly
ratchety sound as she turned this crank and, as I watched, the
aforementioned steel shaft slowly withdrew its protruding
length, which a moment before had overlapped that end of the
table.  With a final turn of the crank the shaft was now drawn
back to two or three inches beyond the table's edge.  Mlle.
T., still offering no explanations, then stood back and
returned casually to my side.
     As I say, the purpose for such a bizarre apparatus was a
complete and utter mystery to me, even as I now stood before
it, Mlle. T. close by my side, the lady no doubt bemused by my
mystification.
     The mystery was not prolonged, however, for a moment or
two later that other servant at the Chateau, the hitherto
unseen Alex, son or brother to Karl, arrived at the chamber's
other door, an apparently hidden panel opening into the room
at its right-hand wall.  With the servant was a beautiful,
dark-haired woman of about twenty, dressed in the usual
student uniform of short white tunic.  Her raven tresses fell
well beyond her white shoulders, bare but for the single
narrow shoulder strap which held the tunic in place.  There
was a sheen to these long, dark wavelets which seemed to glow
with an inner light all its own, and her face held a certain
indefinable calm which I had to that point seen in none of
Mlle. T.'s students before.  From her age, and from this self-
possessed demeanour, I guessed this young woman to be one of
Mlle. T.'s more advanced pupils.
     Alex led the young woman forward.  Standing at the head
of the padded table, she stood motionless as the servant
loosed the shoulder strap of her tunic and the woman let it
fall heedlessly to the floor about her feet.  With Alex's
assistance she then stepped away from the puddle of white silk
and turned to seat herself upon the edge of the padded table. 
Alex's strong-looking hands gently but firmly guided the young
woman into a supine position, her fine bottom centred nearly
at the table's edge facing the huge cluster of machinery I
have described, her legs drawn up and supported for the moment
by her heels.
     The servant busied himself for a few moments with the
various straps which were fixed to both the table itself and
which also hung from each side of a wooden frame which stood
overlooking the table's foot.  Soon the dark-haired beauty lay
strapped down to the table, her wrists shackled into soft, but
strong-looking leather cuffs fixed with silver buckles that
drew her hands and arms back above her, her head now rested
upon a sort of leather bolster that served to raised her so
that her gaze could readily take in the complicated mechanism
arranged before her.
     The woman's heels, which at this point remained resting
upon the padded table's edge, were now lifted by Alex into the
waiting ankle cuffs which hung from the two straps suspended
from the wooden framework above.  Yet another crank, this one
fixed to one side of this framework was now employed by Alex
to reel these two leg straps slowly upward until the woman's
thighs were drawn into a taught, spread-eagle position, her
hips resting at the bare edge of the table and her legs
separated in a wide, upright "V" position at right angles to
her reclining torso.
     One more measure was apparently necessary before whatever
was about to occur could begin.  Three wide leather straps
were now drawn across the young woman's reclining form from
left to right, two positioned over her bare chest, one just
above and the other just below her ripe bosom, causing these
twin globes to lift themselves even more proudly than had been
their want.  And the third of these strong leather body cuffs
was drawn across the young woman's belly or, more precisely,
just below that gentle rise and just above the proud jut of
her full, feminine hips.
     All three of these restraining straps were then cinched
tight, so tight in fact that for the first time I noted the
slightest hint of reaction from the young woman, who until now
had appeared a perfect study of aloofness.  Now she gasped
audibly as the twin straps framing her breasts from above and
below were forced upward and outward from the combined
pressure.  I noted that this pressure had also precipitated a
tightness within those sweet girl-fruits themselves, causing
the small berries of her nipples to ripen into such an erect
hardness that it must have been somewhat painful for the girl
who bore them.
     The combined effect of all these restraints was that the
dark-haired young woman was fixed tightly to the padded table
before us, motionless, completely incapable of movement, no
matter what fate should befall her.
     Mlle. T.'s soft voice, now cold again as always when in
the presence of any of her students, spoke at this point for
the first time since we had entered the room.
	"This," she said, indicating the machinery that her bound
young student now faced before her, framed between her own
widely splayed legs, "This... is our water-clock.  It is a
design of our own, ingenious Alex.  A wonder of invention, is
our Alex.  Though it took him nearly a year to perfect the
device."
     There was not the slightest change of expression, not the
slightest hint of pleasure or satisfaction from the tall man
at his Mistress's kind words of praise.  He merely continued
moving about the machinery that made up his device, his
"water-clock."  He tightened a fitting here, adjusted a
setting there, as if her were some factory worker left on his
own, dedicated to his job, quietly capable of running the
apparatus up to his own, careful, competent specification,
with or without the approval or unneeded supervision from
management.
     "The principle of the device is simple," Mlle. T.
continued.  "You will notice the small opening in the ceiling,
just above the intake funnel."
	I looked upwards to the water-stained opening and funnel-
shaped pipe end I had taken notice of earlier.  "That opening
is connected, through a series of sluices and conduits, to the
fresh-water spring which flows near the rear of this main
building.  A lever here within this chamber can be shifted to
allow water from that spring to be channelled at a varying
rate of flow through that aperture in the ceiling and into the
pipe-work of the clock below.  The water then drives the
mechanism at varying speeds accordingly."
     I looked at Mlle. T., who at that moment had glanced
toward me.  My remaining lack of understanding must have been
clear upon my face, for she nodded reassuringly, indicating
that I should be patient and that all would be clear in good
time.
     "This particular student," said Mlle. T. as our silent
exchange was completed, "is undergoing a series of treatments
designed to enable her young body to withstand the rigours of
extended copulation.  The gentleman who has enlisted her
services upon completion of her education here has specified
his tastes to me very clearly, as I insist all our clients do,
for how can I hope to perfect our training regimes to the
satisfaction of each of our client's needs if I do not clearly
understand what those needs are?"
     Mlle. T. approached the head of the table to which the
pupil in question had been strapped.  She lay the cool fingers
of one hand upon the brow of the dark-haired beauty, stroking
the few stray commas of silken night away and to the side as
she continued to speak.
	"Melody was this creature's name, though she has no name at
all now.  Her new master has expressed his wish to christen
her himself when she is delivered up to him.  We shall comply. 
We have also complied with this gentleman's wish that his new
acquisition be capable, on occasion, of enjoying - of
surviving, as he puts it - quite a large number of male sexual
partners, in rapid succession, sometimes up to a ten or so at
a time.  Apparently this particular client enjoys the
pleasures of voyeurism above all others."
	Mlle. T. smiled somewhat tightly.  "I myself suspect that he
secretly wishes to break the spirit of this, his new
courtesan.  There are men like that in the world, you know. 
But I believe he will find such a goal very difficult to
attain in the case of our Melody, here, for she will come to
him, when she does so, completely capable of taking on
partners by the dozens without complaint.  Fifty rampant males
will not break this one.  In fact, even now, with her training
as yet incomplete, she could accept the plunging of dozen male
members to their utter exhaustion and be quite fresh and ready
for a dozen more.  And when her time here at the school is
done, a hundred mountings will not phase her."
     There was an unquestioned expression of pride in the
countenance of Mlle. T. as she said these words, and I felt a
growing understanding of the fierce pride the Mistress of the
Chateau Noir felt for her students, for all the effort she
made, for discipline's sake, to shield this from her charges. 
Probably she only allowed herself to speak with such openness
before this particular student now because the dark-haired
Melody's training was, as I gleaned from the content of her
remarks, nearly complete, and so nothing was to be lost from
such candour at this point.
     But still I was increasingly anxious to learn the precise
nature of the training ordeal I was apparently now to witness. 
What had this "water-clock" to do with maximising the sexual
endurance level of the young woman lying bound before us?
     My answer came with but a few more moment's delay.Mlle.
T. applied a final, almost loving, caress to the brow of her
young student, and then nodded perfunctorily to Alex, who had
finished with his adjustments and tunings to the
instrumentation of his mechanism and now stood patiently
awaiting his Mistress's command.
     The servant came forward and approached a large lever set
against a side wall.  With some effort he moved this lever
slightly from the left to the right, so that the wooden shaft
of the lever was aligned to the first of several various
markings upon the wall to which it was fixed.  There was a
slight rushing, the sound of water I guessed, the water
flowing from the fresh-water spring Mlle. T. had described. 
And a second or two later a moderate trickle of this clear
liquid began to flow from out the hole in the ceiling above
and to fall down into the waiting funnel end of the upturned
intake pipe of the water-clock.
     There was a sound of movement, first a grating of
machinery coming reluctantly to life, then a soft, groaning
rumble as the full mechanism of the clock began to come into
motion.  Gears turned against gears, wide leather belts turned
huge wooden wheels, and all the while there was that rushing
gurgle of water flowing throughout the mechanism like blood
pumping through the body of a living being.  For the machine
was, in a sense, alive now, churning and pulsing, though in
the creaky, stiff manner of some ancient turning out for his
accustomed morning stroll, his joints and muscles protesting,
still stiff from sleep.
     Alex, father of this machine, sprang about making some
further adjustments, adding the lubrication of some oily
looking substance where needed, and soon the complaining
creaks and groans of the contraption were replaced by a
smooth, untroubled rumble of quietly controlled power.
     But still I could not for the life of me ascertain the
purpose of the mechanism.  That is, until my eyes were drawn
to what Mlle. T. was now doing by the foot of the table near
the upturned "V" of her student's widely splayed legs.  My
curiosity overcame my timidity, and I moved closer to see at
what task Mlle. T. was now occupied.
     What I now saw was Mlle. T. briskly, though carefully,
applying some sort of thick, clear substance at the joining of
the young woman's parted thighs.  I blushed to see her at work
so diligently with a small brush, spreading this substance
assiduously around, and even between, the intimate lips of the
sex of her pupil.
     The foliage surrounding the girl's nether openings had
been carefully shaved, or perhaps plucked, as I had seen the
much younger Beverly plucked just the night before, and the
clear substance now being applied to the smooth, delicate
woman-flesh seemed to cling wetly to where it was brushed.
     I looked toward the upturned face of the young woman
being so intimately attended to and saw in those moist, night-
dark eyes an expression that communicated a subtle mix of
pleasure at these intimate, brushing caresses, and a note, as
well, of carefully contained anxiety, no doubt in anticipation
of whatever ordeal lay immediately before her.
     Mlle. T. noticed my presence at her shoulder and spoke
quietly to me in explanation.  "It is a preparation, Thomas,
a lubricant, that I have designed myself for this particular
procedure, a mixture of natural vegetable oils pressed from
almonds and various other ingredients.  I have found it
superior to all other substitutes, especially for its lasting
quality.  It is not absorbed too quickly by the skin, nor does
it evaporate over long periods of time, and therefore it does
not require replenishing as often as most.  That is
particularly important in the procedure you are about to
witness."
     It was now that the true nature and purpose of Alex's
water-clock suddenly became clear to me, as I happened to
glance away from the pink, tantalising delights now wetly open
between the dark-haired Melody's widely spread thighs, which
had held my gaze like a magnet will draw iron, and into the
gleam of the polished steel shaft, which I have described as
positioned parallel to and just above the table's padded
surface had come into motion through the mechanism of the
clock.  The gleaming rod was now moving smoothly and silently
back and forth in an unmistakably thrusting manner.  One
glance from the smooth, rounded tip of this rod to the now
luxuriously lubricated orifice of flesh at which it was aimed
left no doubt in my mind whatsoever as for the purpose of
Alex's miraculous water-clock and the "training" ordeal the
raven-haired beauty upon the table was about to endure.
     I stared from the rod of steel to vulnerably exposed
underflesh of the young woman as if transfixed, mesmerised. 
I knew what was going to happen and felt myself aroused at the
prospect of seeing it happen as nothing I had seen at the
Chateau Noir had done before.
     Having apparently satisfied herself as to the adequacy of
the state of her young student's sexual lubrication, Mlle. T.
withdrew her brush and returned it, along with the jar
containing the oily preparation, to a small cabinet set in the
room's left-hand wall.  Back at the foot of the padded table
now, she reached below to the small hand-crank I mentioned
before, the one which she had used to cause the steel rod of
the mechanism to retract away from the table's end.  A reverse
rotation of this crank had the expected effect of reversing
that action, and now every turn of Mlle. T.'s firm hand
brought the aggressively thrusting shaft an inch or so closer
to the waiting mouth of Melody's tender sex.
     I looked to the face of the girl to ascertain her
attitude as the moment of her inevitable violation grew ever
nearer, and saw in that face only the slightest hint of
anxiety.  It was perhaps true that there was more of an
excited anticipation there than actual fear.  But whether of
pleasure or of discomfort there certainly seemed there a
definite knowledge of an ordeal soon to be undergone and
endured.  Later I was to learn that the young woman had, in
fact, undergone this training ritual at least three times
previously, so it was true that the girl did, indeed, know
full well the rigours of the ordeal about to befall her.
     Closer and ever closer came the rounded tip of the
trusting shaft of metal.  Now each inward thrust came within
a single inch of making actual contact with the delicate lips
which awaited its intrusion.  The girl at this point had begun
to tremble a bit, her upturned face becoming tightly closed,
her emotions contained with much outwardly displayed effort
and determination.  Her lower lip was caught tentatively
between her teeth, her eyes frozen to the pulsing movement of
the approaching steel.
     Mlle. T. watched the girl's expression as well, judging
for herself the exact moment when that crucial turn of the
crank would bring the tip of the metal phallus plunging into
the waiting girl-lips and into the sweet channel beyond.
     That moment arrived.  With a slow twist of her wrist,
Mlle. T. performed the final necessary movement of the crank,
and at it's very next thrust the glittering steel of the
shaft... touched... and... penetrated... the glistening wet
opening which had stood tremblingly awaiting it.
     The girl gasped audibly at this initial intrusion, for it
occurred to me at that moment that the metal rod must be
somewhat cold, especially as applied to the warmly intimate
flesh of the girl's most tender part.  But, as this first
thrust only penetrated that delicious part only to the shallow
depth of but a half an inch, the girl's gasping reaction could
not as yet have been caused by any more serious discomfort.
     My suspicions proved well founded, for with the
application of ten or so additional thrusts at the same
limited level of intrusion the girl became somewhat used to
steel's cold insinuation, or perhaps the intense heat from
within the girl herself served to reduce the chill of the
metal to a more endurable temperature.  At any rate, the young
woman seemed to settle down to the regular repetition of the
rod's intrusion until the point was reached where there was no
reaction to the metal's thrusting at all.
     After a few moments of this, Mlle. T. addressed the
reclining girl.  "Are you ready, Melody?" she asked.  The girl
paused but a moment and then, setting her teeth and bracing
her body for what was to come, she nodded shortly.  "Very
well," said Mlle. T. and began again slowly to turn the crank.
     Slowly, ever so slowly, the thrusting of the metal
slipped farther into the open loins of the young woman.  First
a single inch of depth was attained, then two, then three. 
Melody seemed now to be straining somewhat against her bonds,
not in an effort to escape the oncoming thrusts, it appeared,
but to brace herself more fully to withstand the carnal
sensations such intimate intrusion was certain to arouse.
     Another slow inch, then another, and then the plunging
rod of steel was sinking with each extremity of its
penetration to the depth of seven full inches into the
trembling tunnel of the young woman's flesh.
	Melody was incapable of suppressing her emotions now.  Each
thrust brought an low, gasping grunt of effort form the girl. 
Her legs shivered and strained in the leather straps which
held them so tightly aloft.  Her toes alternately pointed,
then curled as sensations seemed to roll outward from her
violated cunt in waves of pure, electric excitement that
shivered and vibrated now throughout her entire frame.
     Mlle. T. quietly noted these reactions, and all the while
continued with the slow, steady turning of the crank until, at
the penetration level I estimated at about ten full inches,
young Melody's attempt at quiet calm seemed to break down with
a sudden exclamation.
     "N...noooooooooooooo!"  She screamed.  It was not,
however, a cry of pain.  It was, instead, the sound which
heralded the approach of girl's first orgasm under the
stimulation of the water-clock.
     Then the girl screamed out in earnest, in a full, soul
wrenching girl-cum.  The high rafters of the chamber rang and
reverberated with the mournful, piercing shriek.  The sound
set the small hairs at the back of my neck erect, and caused
the faint shadow of a smile to appear upon the tight red lips
of Mlle. T.  It was smile of knowing admiration.
     Melody's cries of passion continued for some minutes as
the intensity of her orgasm maintained it's high, timorous
peak, the limbs of the young woman convulsing uncontrollably
within her bonds all the while.  And all the while the working
of the mechanism of the water-clock and the thrusting of its
smooth metal shaft maintained its slow, measured penetrations.
     Finally the young woman's orgasm seemed to have run its
course.  All at once she sagged back against the padded table,
her body suddenly slack within her binding straps.  There was
a fine patina of sweet perspiration covering the alabaster
whiteness of her skin.  The tossing of her head during climax
had scattered a few wisps of her dark hair back across her
perspiration-damp forehead where they now lay plastered in
that sweet moisture.  The dark eyes of the girl were closed in
an almost peaceful repose, but flew open again at second later
in abrupt alarm.
     What had happened?  I soon saw.  Mlle. T. had selected
that very moment of repose, the dropping of the young woman's
guard, to apply several additional quick turns of the control
crank, sending the smooth metal of the plunging shaft up
inside the girl to an total increased depth of nearly fifteen
inches.
     The girl erupted into a true frenzy of emotion, calling
out to her Mistress in frantic, wordless pleas for mercy.  The
steel shaft of the water-clock's false phallus had been
designed, as I have described, not only to be of great length
but also to possess an increasing width the farther one
progressed away from its protruding end.  That is, the farther
up inside the woman the shaft travelled, the wider the
receiving orifice was forced open, so that with this sudden
new depth of penetration Melody found her cuntal mouth
stretched ever wider at the completion of each of these ever
deepening thrusts.
     Another adjustment was now made to the mechanism of the
clock.  At a word from Mlle. T. Alex moved the lever which
controlled the flow of water, which powered the device, an
additional two or three notches farther on the scale.  There
was a new, stronger rush of water through the ceiling and into
the intake pipe of the contraption, and an instant later I
heard and saw the huge machine kick into a much higher gear. 
The thrusting of the steel shaft within the depths of its
female receptacle, which to this point had been at the same,
slow, steady, consistent pace, became suddenly faster,
plunging to and fro, in and out of the young woman with a much
increased frequency.
     Melody screamed out now at a higher pitch and frequency
to match this new alteration in her ordeal.  Her entire body
shook in convulsive pleasure.  For pleasure it certainly,
ultimately was.  Her second orgasm upon the padded table,
under the ministrations of the water-clock, began almost
immediately.  Piercing, panicked cries turned into great,
long, gasping intakes of breath, which then became extended
timorous periods of silent shaking, as the blissful spasms of
orgasm held the girl motionless and incapable of voicing her
delight.  And then would come at last the final choking,
guttural scream of release.
     Again and again this cycle of orgasmic rise and release
was repeated with no sense that the energies or the passions
of the young subject were flagging in the least.
     Mlle. T. drew me aside, where her voice could be heard
above the cries of the girl.  She then spoke into my ear. 
"Melody will endure a total of three hours under the clock
today."  She indicated the huge wooden face of the clock above
us, the hour and minute hands of which I had noted earlier to
have been standing straight up at the "twelve o'clock"
position.  Now the minute hand had moved down to nearly twenty
after the hour.  Obviously the clock-face was designed to
display the length of time the machine was in continuous
operation.  Melody had over two-and-a-half hours yet to go.
     Mlle. T. spoke again into my ear.  "This will be our
Melody's final session.  She had done exceedingly well at her
exercises and in a few days she will leave us for her new
home.  I believe her new master will find her most
satisfactory."
	I looked into the face of Mlle. T. and into the face of
young Melody.  The contrast of ultimate passion and ultimate
serenity.
     We remained there in the candle-lit chamber, witness to
Melody's final ecstasies under the wooden face of the water-
clock for nearly an hour longer.
	Mlle. T. roused herself then, announced that it was well
time for our lunch, and I followed her, rather reluctantly,
out through the door and back down the winding passage, as the
impassioned cries of Melody faded gradually in our wake.



Review This Story || Author: Frank Watson
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