Prescription For Perversion

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Homecumming

“It’s a long journey in our carriage, but it’s obvious why we can’t take the train,” Richard said. “Our ‘luggage’ would attract some unwelcome attention.”

“What are you going to do to Poppie and Kerrie?” Scott asked.

“Blackthorne House is a special place, dear cousin. In just two weeks we will transform these shy, virtuous beauties into passionate, naked s*x partners begging you to f**k them.”

“How will you do that? You’re not going to hurt them, are you?”

Richard settled back comfortably in his seat. “On the fireplace in our dining room, my father had the family motto carved. It reads: Lust will conquer and possess where mere love is repelled.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” Richard smiled and closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep. Scott tried to sleep, too. It had been a long, tiring journey from Canada, but the carriage jolting over the back-country roads kept waking him.

“We’ve arrived,” Richard was shaking Scott. He blinked in the sunrise light and saw trees passing the carriage. A stocky, muscular man was swinging open a heavy iron gate. He wore a black patch over his left eye, and greeted us with a touch to the forelock of black hair falling over his forehead.

“That’s Crom, our gateman, and Master of Discipline. He will be helping train your two girls to pleasure you.”

“Training?” Scott was still groggy from the fitful sleep.

“We’ll explain more to you later. Meanwhile, don’t worry about Poppie and Kerrie. You won’t be seeing them again for a few days and nights. They will be in the expert hands of our trainers, Crom and Miss Ballard, until they are ready to serve you.”

“Where are you taking them?”

“We have a place where they and our other collection of girls are kept safe and secure. It is forbidden for anyone to go there until after their initiation into the family. You wouldn’t understand or accept what happens there until you’ve experienced ‘The Rite of Consent’.”

“How soon can I be initiated. I want to see Kerrie and Poppie as soon as you give permission.”

“I’m sure you will get your wish within the next day or so. My wife, Lissa, is brimming over with enthusiasm to initiate you.”

Scott puzzled over his words as the carriage rattled along the winding, tree covered lane to the Manor house. They halted by the large green-painted front door. Richard and Scott got out, while Blanford drove around behind the manor with Gregor to take the girls to whatever place it was they imprisoned their defenseless captives.

Richard clapped Scott on the shoulder. “Trust us, Scott. We’re family, and I promise you that what we will do to Kerrie and Poppie will please you more than you could ever imagine.”

“This is a mysterious place, and I confess, what my imagination makes of your words and actions makes me tremble with pleasant anticipation.”

“Good! I was like you at first, when I came here two years ago. You’re going to fit in with us just fine, and be a respected and valued member of the family. Since our friend, Dr. Woolsey, retired and moved to Australia, I have hoped you would come to live with us. We need a doctor we can trust to keep our wonderfully naughty secret safe. And,” he clapped Scott on the shoulder again, “you can enjoy the intimate attentions of all our girls as often as you like.” He led Scott to the door, which was opened by a short, but vigorous old man with a face creased in smiles.

“This is Selby, our butler, and my confidant. Treat him well, for he, like Gregor and the other staff, is more friend than employee.”

“Welcome, Mr. Scott,” he said. His handshake was firm with strength.

“A pleasure to meet you, Selby.”

There was a curious statue in the foyer, a bronze satyr, life-size and so realistic it could have said, ‘hello’, without any surprise to Scott.

“Looks real, doesn’t he,” Richard said. “Go ahead, touch him. He’s friendly, and won’t bite.”

The satyr had a long, erect c**k clutched to his chest with both hands. Scott stared at it, with envy and admiration mixed. He rubbed a finger around its tip.

“You’re a Cailean, all right,” Richard said. “We all do that when we first see him.”

“Scott, welcome home!” His mother, Caroline, stood in the archway. They embraced and she took his arm. “Let me show you our home and introduce you to the staff and servants.” She patted Scott’s hand, “Poor Richard has to attend to his duties, you know. He’ll make sure your two lady friends are properly lodged in their private rooms.”

Richard shook his head in mock dismay, “Work, work, work. But someone has to do it.” He grinned and disappeared down a passageway.

“Now Scott,” his mother said, “before we go in the parlor, I want to explain something. The maid’s costumes may shock you at first, but don’t pass judgment on what you see and hear today. In a day or two you will appreciate our régime as much as we do.”

“All right, I promise.” Scott flushed slightly, “Actually, I’m eager to see what really goes on here.”

“Good.” She led him down another passage past a collection of family pictures on the walls, and through an archway into the parlor. His breath halted in his throat.

There were two men, then a severe looking woman gripping a long, heavy riding crop, then eight of the loveliest girls Scott had ever seen. Except for Kerrie and Poppie, of course. They were all dressed in the same skimpy maid’s costume, a thick, black leather collar on their necks, and looked like they couldn’t be more than eighteen years old. At the end of the line was a stocky, plain-faced woman in the white uniform of a cook.

Scott was still staring at the maids’ suggestive costumes. He had to force himself to listen to what his mother was saying.

“...Chalmers, our estate manager.”

“Welcome, Mr. Cailean.” He shook Scott’s hand with his strong grip, smiling under his blonde mustache.

“Please,” Scott replied, “I want all the staff to call me Scott.”

“Mr. Scott,” his mother added. “Now, this is Shawe, our gamekeeper. He lives in the cottage at the back of the lawn, just where the meadow and pasture begins.”

“What kind of game do you manage?” Scott asked.

“The two-legged, non-flying kind, mostly,” he said with a wink.

Scott could guess what that might be, but he held his tongue as they shook hands.

“Next,” his mother said, “is Miss Ballard, our Mistress of Discipline. She is in charge of our maids. We allow her to do anything she thinks is necessary to keep these girls obedient and anxious to please us. Do not interfere with her methods. If you must protest, come to me.”

“Mr. Scott.” She shifted the riding crop to her other fist and gave a quick, dominant shake to his hand. Her dark hair was beginning to gray, and her black dress was tight on her torso. Her abundant breasts and slim hips showed their outlines clearly. A row of pearl buttons held it closed from her neck to the hem just below the tops of her high-heeled boots. She stepped out of line and aimed her crop at the first girl. “Janna, Sir Richard’s personal maid.”

“Welcome, Master. Obeying you will be my joy.” Her pale blonde hair caressed her shoulders as she bent her head. The metal ring on her wide leather collar dangled as she dipped to curtsy and lifted the bottom of her extremely short skirt. The flash of her seductive pink thighs made Scott’s heart skip a beat. Her legs were arrayed in white stockings, their pink-ribboned hems just above her knees. Her loose white blouse was held together with a lavender ribbon loosely tied. Scott could see most of her ample charms, and just a hint of cinnamon-brown aureoles with their ruby-gem n*****s. He wanted to find out if they tasted as delightful as they looked.

What startled Scott most was the fading purple marks on their shoulders and thighs. They had all been beaten, and fairly often, judging from the variation in color.

Miss Ballard trained her crop on the next maid. “Margo.”

“Welcome, Master.” The petite, black haired girl curtsied and spoke barely above a whisper with a French accent. “Your pleasure is forever my duty.” As she lifted her skirt, Scott caught a glimpse of a dark tangle of hair.

“Aren’t they wearing...”

“Hush!” Scott’s mother said with a scowl.

Miss Ballard targeted the next maid, a smiling black girl with the largest breasts Scott had ever seen. “Sanura.”

“Welcome, Master. Please let me serve your desires.” She curtsied with a sly wink and a bold lift of her skirt. Scott was right, the dark thatch of her p***y hair was exposed for his inspection.

“Kama.”

A small, slight-bodied, trembling Japanese girl with long, shining black hair dipped and lifted her skirt. She kept her head bowed, not looking at Scott.

“Kama!” Miss Ballard snarled, “Your Master wants to see your face. Pleasure him!”

The girl lifted her head. Her eyes were obsidian jewels set in opal, brimming with tears. The dainty crimson softness of her lower lip was quivering.

“You have disgraced me in front of your Master. What have you to say, young lady?”

The girl’s eyes closed and her chest shuddered with her sobs. “Forgive, Master...Kama Sorry!” She sank to her knees and hugged Scott’s legs. “Sorry! Please don’t whip...”

“Kama!” Miss Ballard lunged forward with instant fury and gripped the girl’s hair, jerking her to her feet. “Wicked girl! You know it is forbidden to touch a Master or Mistress without permission!” She whirled around to Shawe, “Take this good-for-nothing rubbish to the cellar for punishment. You know what to do.”

The Japanese girl was shaking. “No! Please, Kama sorry. Kama will obey! Don’t...”

Miss Ballard tapped her riding crop across Kama’s lips. “Silence, you naughty girl!” She leaned forward, her scowling face only inches from Kama. “You’re not ready to serve. I’m sending you straight back to the cellar for more training.” She nodded grimly to Shaw and he dragged her out of the parlor.

All the other maids were trembling as Miss Ballard turned back to them.

When he rest of the blonde, brunette, and red-headed maids had been introduced, with their curtsies and timid flashes of p***y hair, Lady Caroline introduced the dreamy-eyed woman standing patiently at the end of the line. “This is Lara, our cook. She’s a simple person, but loyal and dedicated to our family. Please treat her with kindness.”

“How do you do, Miss Lara.” Scott shook her offered hand.

She mumbled some welcome, ending with, “Pleasure, Sair.”

Miss Ballard whacked her riding crop in the leather-gloved palm of her hand. The girls all winced at the noise. “Master Scott is ready for breakfast. Serve him!” They dashed off to the kitchen, followed by the stocky-legged, steady pace of Lara. Scott‘s Mother left to tend to her duties as Mistress of Blackthorne, and Miss Ballard escorted him to the dining room.

“The family is still sleeping,” she said. “They are most always entertained by the servants until the small hours of the morning, then they sleep until noon tea.”

Scott ate a solitary breakfast at the huge dining table, served and distracted by the nearly undressed maids. Selby showed him to his room after Scott had eaten and he napped until noon tea. He was awakened by a timid knock on his door.

“Come in.”

A lovely girl, hardly over five feet three inches tall, even in her high-heeled shoes, stepped in. Her sable mane of hair trailed past her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were the intense green of washed bottles on a windowsill catching the sunlight. Her mouth was a red rose about to bloom, and when she spoke, it was the whisper of wind in tree-blossoms.

“Excuse me, Master Scott, Sir Richard sent me to invite you to take tea with him in the garden.”

“Thank you, er, what is your name?”

“They call me Juli, Master.”

“Thank you, Juli. You may leave now, and I’ll get dressed.”

“Please don’t order me to leave, Master. It is my duty to dress you.

“What?”

“I will dress you, Master. The men always have us girls dress them in the morning, and undress them when they go to bed.” She went to the closet and returned with a shirt and riding trousers. “Master Richard is taking you for a tour of his estate after tea.” She lay the clothes over the chair and pulled back the bedclothes.

“Let me help you, Master.” She took Scott’s arm and nearly pulled him out of bed. “No, no, Master, I’m supposed to remove your pajamas.” She stripped him naked while he stood blushing, wondering how he was supposed to respond. Juli sank gracefully to her knees and pressed her warm, soft lips against his c**k. “I serve your c**k, Master.” Scott’s c**k twitched instinctively at her touch. He wondered if Kerrie or Poppie would ever give him this thrill.

Juli held his pants and bent to slip them up his legs.