Le Château Noir Pt. 02

The next afternoon at exactly three o'clock, a midnight-black limousine driven by a uniformed chauffeur arrived to usher Gabrielle out of Charleston and into the countryside.

Gabrielle tried to make small-talk with the driver, but he politely declined to engage with her.

"Sorry, Mademoiselle, but I am not permitted to converse with the passengers."

After traveling for about thirty minutes through the sun-dappled roads of the moss-draped low country, the car turned off the main thoroughfare and approached a towering perimeter wall of black iron and old brick, every square inch covered by a lush layer of dense ivy.

The heavy gates swung open silently and the limousine crossed the threshold, entering a long, winding driveway flanked on both sides by ancient, towering live oaks.

The scale of the estate was staggering. Through the tinted windows, Gabrielle watched the vast landscape blur past. Manicured lawns swept outward into dense, private woodlands, broken only by a high-fenced equestrian paddock.

The sense of isolation was palpable. The absolute silence inside the luxurious cabin emphasized how completely cut off the compound was. There were no sounds of distant traffic, no signs of neighbors--only the rhythmic low hum of the tires on the perfectly smooth asphalt track that seemed to go on forever.

Then, as the car cleared the final bend, Le Château Noir revealed itself.

The main house was not just a manor; it was a colossal, multi-story French-inspired château constructed of dark, weathered stone that seemed to swallow the light. It sat like a fortress at the head of a massive cobblestone courtyard. Wings of the house extended outward like giant arms, boasting dozens of dark, leaded-glass windows that looked down blindly on the arriving vehicle. In the center, a grand double-staircase rose upward toward a set of carved oak doors so massive they looked as if they were designed for a cathedral.

The limousine glided to a halt at the base of the stairs beside a solitary woman who was obviously awaiting Gabrielle's arrival. The chauffeur immediately hopped out and held her door open, ushering her out of the car with a courtly wave of his hand. Gabrielle stepped out into the court yard, blinking in the bright sunlight.

Stepping onto the cobblestones, Gabrielle adjusted the hem of her tailored, high-waisted navy pencil skirt and smoothed the front of her cream silk blouse. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a neat, professional twist, and her pale blue eyes darted nervously about massive cobblestone courtyard.

The woman greeting her stepped back a single pace to look Gabrielle over, her icy gray eyes slowly sweeping up and down over the younger woman's body, evaluating her from head to toe with the cool, calculated efficiency of an expert craftsman inspecting a new tool.

The woman held out her right hand. In her left, she held a leather riding crop.

"Hello, Gabrielle. Welcome to Le Château Noir. I am Madame Vivienne, the High Governess of Protocol for the estate."

As Gabrielle shook the proffered hand, she examined the woman before her. Madame Vivienne looked to be in her late forties with austere, aristocratic features, high cheekbones, and olive skin. Her eyes were a piercing, icy gray. Her dark hair was pulled back into an immaculate, tightly coiled chignon. She was dressed a custom-tailored, high-collared charcoal suit made of light linen that clung to her lean silhouette.

"So nice to meet you, Madame Vivienne," Gabrielle replied crisply.

The stern woman nodded, but did not smile. She held Gabrielle's hand in her own.

"La Grande Maîtresse was right. You are a beautiful woman, Gabrielle and I too see the spark of imagination in your eyes."

Gabrielle didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed silent. Vivienne released her hand.

"Maîtresse Ariana herself started out as a young maiden at Le Château Noir. Did she tell you that?"

"No, Madame," Gabrielle replied softly.

"We were both maidens back then. That was over twenty years ago," the governess continued wistfully.

An awkward silence spun out between them for several seconds, then Vivienne slapped the palm of her right hand with the leather-squared tip of her crop.

"Maîtresse Ariana will conduct your interview in her study later, but first she wanted me to give you a brief tour of the grounds. Please follow me, child."

Gabrielle had expected to be led up the stairs, but instead the governess veered left down a walkway toward the left side of the house. Gabrielle quickly followed, struggling to keep up with the fast, staccato steps of the older woman's heels. When she caught up, Gabrielle coughed into her hand.

"Pardon, Madame, but may I ask what your duties are? What does a High Governess of Protocol do?"

Vivienne nodded patiently.

"I'm in charge of the maidens," she replied brusquely. "I also supervise the day-to-day training and discipline of the house slaves."

Gabrielle felt the first frisson of excitement. There it was. The rumors were true. She put her hand to her throat.

"You say that so casually, Madame," she began tentatively. "I still can't believe that real-life slaves actually exist in this day and age."

Vivienne stopped walking and stared frostily at the younger woman.

"Spare me your bourgeois posturing, Gabrielle. All slaves who serve at Le Château Noir do so of their own volition and are free to leave at any time."

"It's just hard to get my head around..." she began.

Vivienne slapped her right palm smartly with the tip of her crop.

"Well you had better get used to it, child, if you hope to keep your job."

Gabrielle started at the older woman's outburst.

Vivienne's expression softened. She placed a calming hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Think of it as a symbiotic relationship, Gabrielle. All the slaves who serve our guests crave to be subjugated and used for the pleasure of others. That is their calling in life. Our guests simply accommodate their wishes by sampling their charms. Everyone wins."

The young maiden nodded pensively.

"And you oversee their training, Madame Vivienne?"

"I do indeed and I take my job very seriously. The slaves are estate assets, child. Nothing more and nothing less. Like all capital, they must be managed carefully and their value must be optimized to ensure they remain productive. That is what I do."

Vivienne resumed walking and Gabrielle chased after her. They approached an iron gate leading to the pool area. Kneeling perfectly still on the hot stone tiles directly beside the latch was a completely naked male slave wearing a heavy steel collar. His head was shaved entirely bald, and a large gleaming silver septum ring hung suspended from his nose, catching the bright lowcountry sun.

Madame Vivienne stopped abruptly on the stone path, her sharp heels clicking to a decisive halt just a few paces past the gate. She turned her cold, gray eyes back toward the kneeling slave, her posture impossibly rigid.

"Present," she ordered stiffly.

The slave quickly pivoted on his knees to face the governess, his head bowed, his wrists crossed at the small of his back.

Vivienne stood before him, flexing the crop between her hands. She turned to address Gabrielle.

"This is an omega slave, the lowest of the low. They are all fallen house slaves who have been demoted to our lowest caste for one infraction or another."

Gabrielle looked closely at the slave. He appeared to be completely hairless, his pale skin smooth and glistening. He was perfectly fit, without an ounce of fat, his muscles oiled and rippling in the sun.

Vivienne let the tip of her crop dip down under the man's chin.

"How long have you been fallen?"

"Almost three years, Madame Vivienne," he replied deferentially.

"When is your next review?"

"Next week, ma'am," he replied.

Vivienne turned to Gabrielle.

"All omega slaves undergo an annual review by the High Council of the Black Court to evaluate whether they have earned their way back into the court's good graces with their servitude and suffering."

Vivienne allowed her crop to drift down to the man's chest. There was a large red number 92 tattooed on the man's left pectoral muscle. Vivienne traced her crop along the number.

"Omegas are stripped of their names and identities when they are demoted. They are referred to only by their numeral of disgrace," she informed the young maiden, tapping the large red digits lightly with her crop.

Vivienne let the tip of her crop jostle on of the slave's thick steel nipple rings.

"Omegas are pierced and marked as the estate's chattel. They have no rights or privileges. They must instantly service anyone on command, staff, guests and slaves alike. Even the maidens enjoy having their sport with the omegas.

Gabrielle felt a sudden quickening in her loins. She had not been expecting such a perk.

Vivienne let the crop drift down to the man's crotch.

The man's pubis was pale and hairless, a large bar code and a seven digit slave number was tattooed on the tender flesh.

Vivienne touched the tattoo with the tip of her crop.

"All incoming slaves are marked as château property upon arrival. When a guest wants to check a slave out to their chamber for the night, they scan the bar code so the warders will know their whereabouts at all times.

"Warders?"

"They are the male equivalent of the maidens. They serve as custodial staff and also keep track of the slaves and see to their care and feeding."

Gabrielle nodded.

Vivienne let the tip of her crop drop to the slave's stainless steel chastity cage.

"As you can see, we keep all male omegas in permanent chastity," she informed Gabrielle casually, tapping the steel enclosure several times with her crop.

Vivienne addressed the kneeling slave.

"Hole," she ordered.

The man quickly pivoted on his knees pressed his forehead to the hot stone tile, presenting his ass for inspection. There was a large dark, purple-black scar tissue permanently burned into the pale flesh of his rump--the unmistakable capital Greek letter Ω.

Vivienne ran the tip of the crop over the raised scar tissue.

"All omegas, male and female, are branded upon being demoted. The mark is, of course, permanent, even if they should earn their way back to their former positions."

The governess let the tip of her crop wander to the slave's ass crack. The red crystal base of a large stainless steel anal plug glinted in the sun. Gabrielle could see that the rim of the tightly plugged anus was also oiled and glistening.

Vivienne ran the tip of her crop down the slave's ass crack until it rested on the base of his plug.

"As you can see, he is plugged and lubed, ready at all times for cock, should a guest or slave decide to dip their wick. His penis is perpetually limp and caged, so the women clients have no interest in him. Male omegas are really nothing but two warm, wet holes for cock."

Vivienne smacked the slaves ass with her crop.

"Has this hole been of use today?"

"Yes, Madame. I was taken by a male guest in the pool showers this morning as I bent to swab the floors."

Vivienne nodded her approval.

"Good whore. Be sure to log it for your review."

"Yes, ma'am, of course."

Vivienne turned to Gabrielle.

"All slaves are required to log each encounter with the guests, along with a brief description of the services they provided. They also must have their most current statistics memorized."

Madame smacked the slave's right buttock sharply.

"Get back up on your knees, 92," she ordered.

The slave scrambled back up on to his knees facing the governess.

"How many cocks have you sucked this month, 92?"

"14 ma'am," he replied immediately.

"I want thirty by the end of the month. That gives you five more days."

"Yes, Madame Vivienne."

"Open the gate," the governess ordered curtly.

Gabrielle watched 92 jump to his feet and undo the complicated latch of the gate, then swing the door open for the two women.

Vivienne ushered the young maiden into the pool area.

"Welcome to the grotto, Gabrielle."

The younger woman gasped.

The travertine terrace opened up into a breathtaking, multi-level water complex designed to look like a private oasis carved directly out of the lowcountry wilderness. The main pool was a colossal, lagoon-style expanseof crystal-clear turquoise water, its edges lined with smooth, sand-colored stone rather than traditional tiling. Luxury daybeds and shaded velvet cabanas sat nestled among lush clusters of imported palms and blooming jasmine, creating private pockets of shade for the elite guests lounging by the water.

Gabrielle looked around, her eyes wide with wonder.

There were dozens of male and female guests lying about the exotic complex on the cushioned chaise lounges, almost all of them had a naked slave kneeling at their feet.

Gabrielle looked to her immediate left. A tall, statuesque blond woman dressed in lingerie and heels was standing over another kneeling woman in lingerie who was sucking the cock of the man seated comfortably on the chaise. The blond appeared to be holding the kneeling woman's leash in her left hand.

Madame Vivienne caught the tall blonde's attention and waived her over. The woman immediately dropped the other slave's leash and began walking toward them, her hips swinging seductively with each step.

Gabrielle studied the creature as she approached.

The woman's delicate features were framed by a voluminous, flawlessly styled platinum-blonde hair, her eyes dramatically lined beneath heavy false lashes. She wore a pink collar and vibrant pink satin underbust corset that cinched her waist into a sharp, dramatic silhouette, with matching pink thigh-high stockings. On her feet were a pair of hot-pink, five-inch patent leather pumps that clicked sharply on the stone tiles as she approached.

When she reached the governess, the slave dropped to her knees at her feet, her eyes downcast, her wrists crossed at the small of her back.

Vivienne addressed the young maiden at her side.

"This is Fifi," she began. "She is the Duchess of the coquettes."

"Coquettes?" Gabrielle asked.

Vivienne nodded.

"The coquettes are the house sissy slaves."

Gabrielle took several seconds to absorb what she was being told, then let her eyes drift down to Fifi's crotch. She was stunned to see a diminutive erection at the vertex of the slave's thighs instead of a vagina.

"As the Duchess of coquettes, Fifi is responsible for training the new arrivals and maintaining decorum in the harem chambers."

Gabrielle nodded slowly.

"Speaking of new arrivals, how is our new pet adjusting to her captivity?" Vivienne asked Fifi, waving a hand toward the kneeling coquette attending to the man on the chaise nearby.

"Tiffany is doing quite well. This her first day in circulation, but she has already serviced eight cocks."

"Excellent," Vivienne replied, nodding in approval.

Vivienne let the tip of her riding crop dip to the the slave's small erection as it bobbed daintily with the slave's pulse.

"As you can see, Fifi is not caged. As duchess of the coquettes, Fifi alone is permitted her modest erections. All the other coquettes remain locked and limp in chastity for the entire term of their service."

Vivienne punctuated her words with several light swats to the kneeling slave's small scrotum. Fifi remained stock still.

"Caged or not, a coquette is never allowed to touch her own clit. That is strictly forbidden."

It took several seconds for Gabrielle to understand the implications of Vivienne's words.

"So they never get to cum?" the young maiden blurted, her tone skeptical.

Vivienne smiled thinly to herself.

"They all climax, Gabrielle, usually several times a day, but not from touching their clits."

Gabrielle cocked an eyebrow in puzzlement.

"All the coquettes have been trained to ejaculate hands-free from receptive anal intercourse. It is the only form of release they are ever allowed. The guests love it."

Vivienne put the tip crop under the slave's chin, tilting the coquettes face upward until their eyes met.

"The arrangement makes the coquettes the most eager and enthusiastic cock whores on the estate, isn't that right, Fifi?"

Gabrielle saw Fifi's cheeks flush as she listened to Vivienne describe the humiliating biological imperative that now ruled her life.

"Yes, Madame Vivienne," the slave replied softly.

Vivienne withdrew her crop and continued her exposition.

"We currently have 37 coquettes on the premises who circulate in and out of the pleasure salons and pool area. They are in extremely high demand due to their innate docility and extreme attentiveness."

Vivienne straightened and allowed her riding crop drift down to hug the side of her left leg.

"You are dismissed, Fifi. Go attend to your pupil."

"Yes, Madame Vivienne. I'll see to it, ma'am."

Gabrielle watched the slave rise up off her knees and twirl gracefully on her high heels. The maidens eyes lingered on coquette's well-toned, shapely buttocks as she strode slowly away.

Madame Vivienne sighed deeply and let her gaze wander slowly around the sunlit terrace, watching with satisfaction as her charges pleasured the male and female guests scattered about the pool area.

Gabrielle looked off to her right and saw a petit pale female slave kneeling between the thick legs of a heavy-set African American woman, her face buried in the thick unruly bush of her matted pubic hair. Next to her, an African-American man, clearly the woman's husband was being serviced by a kneeling blond coquette, her lips gliding steadily up and down the full length of the man's large cock.

Both guests were sipping champagne and chatting convivially as the slaves attended to them. As Gabrielle watched, the couple clinked glasses.

Gabrielle watched the woman put down her glass and begin to buck against the slave's face, gripping both armrests with her hands as a powerful orgasm overtook her. When her climax had subsided, the pretty slave between her thighs paused and looked up, her lips and face smeared with the woman's effluent. It was clear from her expression that the young slave was hoping for a brief reprieve.

The woman ignored the slave's unspoken plea and pushed her face back down into her crotch with a firm hand pressed to the back of her head.

As Gabrielle watched, a tall, well muscled male slave with a thick black collar stepped up to the woman holding a silver tray bearing a dozen fresh flutes of champagne. The woman accepted a glass, then reached out and cupped the slave's balls, hefting their weight. The slave remained still as the woman fondled him, his erection instantly at full mast.

Gabrielle gasped at his size.

Madame Vivienne noticed the direction of Gabrielle's gaze and smiled.

"He is one of the etalons, the stud stallions."

As Gabrielle watched, the large black woman began to absently stroke the stud's cock as she casually sipped her champagne.

The young maiden was amazed to see the shaft continue to lengthen and swell in the woman's hand. It was by far the biggest cock she had ever seen.

"They are all over ten-inches long and are prized for their girth and stamina."

Gabriella stared at the colossal penis, open mouthed.

"All bisexual and equally proficient at pleasing both men and women," Vivienne added archly.

Gabrielle scanned the crowd and saw there were at least a dozen etalons circulating in the crowd. As she watched, she saw an extraordinarily fit woman in her sixties wearing a string bikini lead two of the studs by their leashes toward a nearby cabana, their huge erections bobbing wildly before them as they were marched inside.

Vivienne took a seat at an empty table shaded by an umbrella. She plucked a flute of champagne from a passing stallion and invited Gabrielle to sit. The young maiden straightened her skirt and sat.

"Congratulations, you've passed your first test," Madame Vivienne began, taking a small sip of her champagne.

Gabrielle looked at the older woman, confusion etched upon her face.

"You've had your first glimpse of life at Le Château Noir and you haven't run scurrying for the tree line like a frightened rabbit."

Gabrielle nodded thoughtfully.

"What you told me helped, Madame. Once I realized everyone really is here of their own free will, I began to just relax and enjoy the show."

Vivienne nodded.

"That's wonderful, child. I think you're going to fit in quite well here," the older woman replied, placing her glass on the table.

Vivienne stood.

"We must not keep La Grande Maîtresse waiting."

Madame Vivienne and Gabrielle weaved their way across the grotto toward the house. As they walked, Gabrielle saw many other scenes of debauchery. Several male and female omegas were being used as footstools, struggling to stay erect on all fours as the guests rested their feet. Another male omega was kneeling in an alcove with his mouth open and a large placard hung around his neck that read URINAL. Gabrielle shuddered inwardly as a burly man with a hairy back stepped up to the slave to relieve himself.

As they headed into the house, Gabrielle glanced at an alcove off to the left. In the small grass courtyard a hooded, naked woman was restrained and bent over a padded horse of some kind, her hands and feet chained to heavy eyebolts by steel ankle and wrist cuffs.

A man was taking the woman from behind, pounding the slave mercilessly. A pretty brunette coquette knelt on the grass by the woman's rump patiently waiting to fluff the next guest who stepped up to use the woman's holes.

Vivienne stopped and checked her watch.

"I forgot her breeding was today," the older woman muttered to herself.

Gabrielle looked at the governess quizzically. Vivienne pointed at the woman.

"That is the breeding bench. A male or female slave is posted there 24./7 in eight hour shifts. They must offer themselves to all comers."

As she watched, Gabrielle saw the man fucking the slave freeze as he ejaculated inside her. He remained still for several seconds, then slowly pulled out, presenting his cock to the kneeling coquette for cleaning. The sissy gobbled up the softening member and began to suck it clean. When he was satisfied, the man pulled his cock from the coquette's mouth, absently wiping it dry with the slave's long auburn tresses.

After the man had departed, Vivienne and Gabrielle approached the slave on the bench. The woman's entire body was flushed, her back shiny with sweat. She was still panting from her fucking, her breath coming in short sharp gasps. The woman was completely naked aside from a black spandex hood and thick white patent leather collar.

The coquette shuffled over to the woman on her knees. She leaned in and pressed her face to the woman's sex to lap up the man's leavings from her gaping pussy.

Gabrielle looked at the kneeling sissy slave, then over at the woman.

"What kind of slave is she?" Gabrielle asked softly.

"She is not a slave. She is a guest," Vivienne replied flatly.

Gabrielle blinked.

"About twenty percent of our clients come to the château not to utilize our slaves, but to live out their own submissive fantasies."

Vivienne ran her fingers along the spine of the prostrate woman who sighed at her touch.

"Obviously, I can't tell you her name," the governess began, addressing the young maiden. She slid her hand down to woman's ass and began to caress her buttocks. The woman moaned and arched her back, as if trying to guide the hand to her sex.

"She's the CEO of a major tech company, but about every other month she spends a week with us. Her fantasy is offer herself as a free-use whore for all of our guests. She's quite popular."

Vivienne leaned down and spoke into the woman's left ear.

"Are we having a productive day, slut?" she asked softly.

"Yes, Madame Vivienne. Seven in my ass and twelve in my cunt," the woman rasped.

"My, my, you have been busy, haven't you, whore?" The governess replied playfully, looking at her watch. "And still three hours to go."

Vivienne let her right hand run down the woman's ass crack. She moaned more loudly, pressing herself back against the older woman's hand.

Madame Vivienne leaned down again spoke again.

"Can I get you anything, dear? Perhaps a sip of water?"

The woman turned her face to the governess, her eyes bright behind the eyeholes of her spandex hood.

"More cock, please, Madame," she croaked.

The governess smiled.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," she replied crisply, motioning to two stallions who were walking past with trays of champagne.

"Over here, both of you," she ordered, snapping her fingers.

The two naked slaves stood before her, their wrists crossed at the small of their backs, their large cocks already hardening as they eyed the woman on the bench.

Madame Vivienne reached down and grasped the thick shafts of both cocks.

"I want you both to put one load in her ass and one in her pussy. Understood?"

"Yes, Madame Vivienne," the men replied in unison.

The governess released the men's cocks and stepped away toward the house, motioning for Gabrielle to follow. Gabrielle rushed to catch up, stealing one final glance over her shoulder.

One of the stallions was being fluffed by the coquette as the other mounted the woman from behind, his cock impossibly large. As she watched, the stud spit on his hand and rubbed it on his cock, then plunged his entire length into her pussy in one thrust.

The woman screamed.

Gabrielle turned away and caught up to Madame Vivienne by the entrance to the house. The governess paused at the threshold, turning to face the young maiden. She reached over and adjusted her blouse.

"Straighten your skirt," she instructed stiffly.

Gabrielle did as she was told, reaching down with both hands to smooth her narrow pencil skirt.

Madame Vivienne glanced at her watch.

"La Grande Maîtresse will see you now, child," she intoned.

Madame Vivienne straightened and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was laden with menace.

"Be warned, child. What you saw in the grotto is child's play compared to what goes on in the great rooms and pleasure salons of the château. My advice is to keep your eyes down and follow me. Do not make eye contact with anyone and speak to no one. Understood?"

"Yes, Madame," Gabrielle replied softly. She realized she was trembling.

Madame Vivienne opened the heavy oak door and ushered the young maiden inside.

***