Seduced By An Entity Ch. 26
Date: 05.02.2010
Keywords: 26, By, Ch., An, Entity, Seduced,
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'Mmmm. Good, wasn't it?' came her reply.
They went to bed in a darkened castle – everybody seemed to have already retired - and Sandra soon dropped off into a deep sleep. But then, some time during the night, she was suddenly wide awake. She was sure she had heard a scream. And not just a scream, but an agonised wail of a scream. Then, there it was again, no mistake this time. She slid out of bed, slipped on a negligee over her nightgown, and quietly tip-toed across the corridor, and into Rachel's room. She was wide awake.
'Did you hear that?' she whispered.
'Yes,' she nodded
'I'm going to find out what's going on,' said Sandra.
'Don't be stupid, 'said Rachel, 'none of our business!'
'Just the same.'
'Please yourself. I'm staying here.' She snuggled lower under the bedclothes and gave no indication of getting out of bed.
Sandra, always the one to stick her neck out, decided to investigate, and creeping out into the corridor, made her way down the stairs, lit by the ample shafts of light from the full moon which had risen. No sooner had she got to the foot of the stairs, than she heard it again, a terrible, moaning scream, nearer now, and seeming to come from somewhere lower down than where she was standing, She had to try the 'forbidden corridor.' She knew, of course, that it wasn't even a slightly sensible thing to do. Skulking about in a medieval castle in the middle of the night in a nightgown and negligee was not remotely a good idea, but there was something about those screams, something that drew her, something she couldn't ignore. She decided Rachel would
Come and look for her if anything befell her, and set off down the passage towards the corner of the dreaded corridor.
Moonlight lit her path, streaming through clerestory widows high in the walls above her, but it was much darker in the gloomy corridor. She hesitated before taking it, but yet another, more muffled scream made her mind up, and she plucked up the courage.
The corridor wound down in a great sweeping curve, forever downwards in a gentle gradient, the floor rough stone, hurting Sandra's bare feet as she picked her way in the gloom. There was enough light to see there were no doors off either side, but then the corridor ended abruptly with a heavy pair of double oak doors. She pushed against them and they opened easily. She found herself in a narrow vestibule, with another set of double doors at the end, and a single door off to the right. It was lit by a single light-bulb, very low-powered, in the ceiling.
Sandra tried the double doors, but they refused to budge, so she turned to the single door on the right, which opened immediately, on to a small room, again lit by a single bulb. She stood in the doorway, and looked at the room in amazement. There were a couple of easy chairs and a small television, flickering away merrily in black-and-white, with a video machine underneath it, on a shelf. Sandra looked at what was playing on the television, and did a double-take, because the woman on the screen was Rachel's double! Or as near as could be. The scene was of a beautiful slim, sensuous woman with long dark hair, and high, Celtic cheekbones, dressed in a diaphanous long white dress, and, evidently, nothing else, being manacled to a dungeon wall. And she really was a dead ringer for Rachel – it was incredible! Sandra spotted the box the video belonged to and found the title, 'The Long Hair of Death,' – Barbara Steele – a 1960's horror film. She looked up at the television, and the next frame wasn't showing the Rachel-lookalike, but she was fascinated. So fascinated that she didn't hear the door open, and someone enter behind her.
'So you decided to do some detective work, did you?' And what have you discovered? A television room, eh? How fascinating!' The sardonic tones belonged to Jacqueline, whose strong accent had a harsh sound to it. She stood, one hand on her hip, in the doorway, in a satin robe, the same one, or similar, to the one she had been wearing when she had hurried from the corridor earlier in the day.
'I heard screams,' said Sandra, thinking she sounded pathetic.
'Oh yes?' said Jacqueline, and, grabbing the remote control, turned up the volume. On cue, a scream rent the air as the heroine was subjected to torture, coyly off-camera. 'That what you heard? Yves' little collection in action?' And she indicated row upon row of horror films stacked neatly on shelves along one wall, with a sweep of her arm. But, as she was doing so, a distinct wail sounded from behind the wall, and Sandra raised her eyebrows. 'No, it was that,' she said, quietly, and, as she said it, the door opened again, and Yves walked in, looking very red in the face, and seeming out of breath. He stopped in his tracks.
"'Qu'est il ce passe?' "he demanded, and Jacqueline spoke to him in French too rapid for Sandra to follow, but, when she made to leave, he blocked her exit, and said, 'No, young lady, you go nowhere now. You are in a very bad position here. Nobody knows the two of you are here, at the castle. You have noticed how your friend resembles the lady in the film. I shall keep from you no longer my plans for you both. Take her, Jacqueline, please.'
Sandra started to protest, saying that she had phoned the police.
'Police?' snarled Jacqueline, 'from a mobile phone – you could be anywhere!'
Sandra realised with a horrible shock the truth of what she said, and found her wrists seized in front of her and cuffed tightly in metal cuffs, then she was being pulled through the door, into a dimly lit dungeon, with a rough bare stone floor, and rough-hewn stone walls. Jacqueline, showing strength way beyond that which her stature suggested, pulled her roughly towards one wall, and told her to stand still. Then she stood on a step beside her, and raised Sandra's hands way above her head, fastening the chain between her cuffs to a steel chain which depended from the ceiling. In one movement, she tore the negligee from Sandra's body, leaving her in just the thin silk nightgown, shivering in the cold of the dungeon. Next she attended to the young girl's ankles, and there were manacles chained to ring-bolts in the floor at a convenient place, which she now clasped around Sandra's slim ankles. Without a word, she stood, turned, and left her hanging there. Sandra tried to understand what had happened to her but her mind couldn't assimilate the sheer horror of her situation. It turned to Rachel, but she somehow knew that her friend would soon be joining her here in this terrible place – of that she was sure. The likeness in the old film was more than just a coincidence – there was a design to the whole thing. Before she had chance to think further, she heard a terrible moan again, and her eyes were now becoming accustomed to the gloom of the dungeon. On the opposite wall she could now see the body of another girl, chained as she was, but quite naked. Her head hung low, as if she had been there some time, and she was moaning from time to time.
'Who are you?' whispered Sandra, not knowing if it was a good idea to speak out loud or not. She repeated the question, but received no reply, just another, louder, moan.
After what seemed like five minutes but may have been less, Jacqueline re-appeared, but ignored Sandra completely, and went to the girl chained to the opposite wall, grasping her brown hair, and speaking to her in a language Sandra couldn't understand. But the girl replied softly, "'Jawohl, bitte,' "in a pleading voice – solving the problem, she was German! Jacqueline departed and returned a minute or two later with a glass of water, which she tilted for the German girl to drink from, then placed on the ground beside her. She said something else to the girl, then turned and left again. A few moments later she was replaced by Yves, who was dressed like a monk in a long grey robe, the hood thrown back to reveal his flowing silver mane of hair. He stood close to the German girl, and stroked her young body with all the appearance of a caress, running a hand the whole length of her body, wringing another moan from her lips, this time sounding less like a moan of agony and more like one of pleasure. He then produced, from beneath his robe, a thin cane, and, without warning, lashed the girl hard across the upper thighs, causing her to scream, this time in real agony. Spinning her around, he thrashed her viciously across her rounded buttocks, leaving an angry red welt, which must have hurt terribly. He was warming to the task, and his robe was now tented out by an obvious erection as he whipped her once more, and she let out an awful shriek as a scarlet wheal appeared on her lower back. He threw down the cane, felt between her legs, grabbed her hair, looked into her eyes, and said something in her language, then left her. He crossed to Sandra, and stroked her slim body through the silk of her nightgown.
'I think you would like me to whip you too, English rose?'
'No,' she spat at him, 'let me go, you swine.' But that she had been turned on watching the German girl being whipped, she couldn't deny.
'You must wait,' he said, 'your turn will come!' With that, he turned and left Sandra, in her uncomfortable position, her arms stretched above her head. Jacqueline meantime came and took the German girl down from her manacles, and helped her away out of sight around a corner.
Not more than five minutes later there was a commotion from the direction of the corridor, and Jean-Pierre, (or Jean-Marc, she couldn't be sure which) pulled an unwilling, handcuffed, Rachel, clad in just her long white silk nightgown, into the dungeon. She was yelling at her captor, all manner of abuse coming from her lips, in contrast to her lovely appearance. Jacqueline joined in, coming, presumably from the television room, and, in no time at all, Rachel was shackled to the wall, in place of the German girl. The twin retired without a word, leaving her to the mercy of Jacqueline, and Yves.
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Keywords: 26, By, Ch., An, Entity, Seduced,