scooped her up and carried her up the stairs.
'Here's going to be your home for the next month – if you don't behave.'
'No!'
She cried out, trying to retreat. She fell heavily against Lucien. The man stood like a stone wall. Her frightened eyes almost refused to believe what she saw in the room. Whips hung in racks from the walls. A brazier with a branding iron heated to a dull red burned in the center of the room. Chains dangled from the ceiling, shackles just the right size for her slender wrists open at the ends. A set of stocks stood open at one side of the room.
And there were other, more terrifying items that belonged to the Spanish Inquisition, not the twentieth century.
'What is all this?' she asked feebly. She was coming to realize just how serious the spot she'd gotten herself into was.
'This is all yours – unless you cooperate.'
'Wh-what do you want from me?'
'Come this way and see the other room – which might be yours if you go along with everything Mr. Steele wants.' Marcus bowed from the waist and sardonically pointed the way to an adjoining room. With great fear, she went into that room.
She caught her breath again. But this time it was at the luxurious furnishings. A four-poster bed dominated the room. Velvet bedcover, soft rugs on the floors, paintings on the walls that looked old and done by master painters, tasteful sculptures on tables and every convenience a woman could want.
'This – or the other room. Which will it be?' asked Lucien.
'This!'
'I feared as much,' sighed Lucien, obviously turned on by the prospect of her being chained and left in the other room.
Tanya went to a closet and flung open the door. Inside was a long row of fine dresses, designer originals, all expensive and all just the right size for her. She hastily put one on and immediately felt better. Not standing naked in front of those two men did wonders for her spirits. She even considered getting away from here.
'What's in there?' she asked, waiting for Marcus to open the door. The instant he did, she kicked him hard in the ass, sending him stumbling. She leaped over the bed and cut off Lucien. In a flash, she was in the hallway outside the room and running for her life. She slid down the banister and onto the slickly polished floor in the foyer, then opened the front door.
Standing there was a woman with brilliant red hair and a figure any model would envy. But that wasn't what Tanya noticed. Nor did she notice the skintight leather tunic and pants or the knee-high black leather boots the woman wore so stunningly.
All she saw was the cruel whip in the woman's creamy-white hand.
Tanya staggered back a step in surprise. This was all that the red-haired woman needed. The whip sang its merciless song as it curled around Tanya's legs. A quick yank and the woman fell heavily to the floor, stunned by the impact. The whip uncurled and lashed out again and again. Tanya fought to cover her face.
The leather tip of the whip sought out her skin, ripped off the dress she had so recently donned, made her cry out in pain as it licked across her soft white skin.
'Try to escape, eh?' laughed the red-haired woman. She continued to use the whip until her arm tired. She laughed again and said, 'I'm Henrietta. And I do what he wants.'
Tanya didn't have to ask who 'he' was. She knew. It could refer only to the mysterious Mr. Steele.
'Where is he? I want to talk to him. This is fucking ridiculous!'
The whip sang again and lashed across her tender shoulders. She screamed and writhed, trying to evade the whip's second trip. Tanya failed. She felt the sharp sting of the leather go all the way down into her body.
'Don't use words like that unless you're ordered to,' snapped Henrietta. 'I ant to be your keeper for the month. Please me and your existence might be pain free. Maybe. But anger me and…'
She demonstrated. She used the whip marvelously well. Tanya didn't appreciate the fact, though, that Henrietta could have stripped the flesh from her bones. She only knew the wracking pain zinging along her nerves. Henrietta continued to whip her until both Lucien and Marcus came down the stairs.
'Back to the room. You know which one,' said Henrietta. 'I'm surprised you allowed her to escape so easily.'
Marcus shrugged easily and said, 'Isn't it always this way?'
'Yes,' said Henrietta, speaking for Tanya's benefit. 'All the young girls think they can just walk out. Mr. Steele makes a harsh bargain, but it's a fair one. They have to learn to abide by it.'
'It wasn't fair!' protested Tanya, being dragged up the stairs. 'I didn't know what I was getting into!'
'Liar!' shrieked Henrietta. 'Mr. Steele always lets his women know. And you are calling him a liar. I'll punish you for that!'
Tanya felt the licking of the whip against her ass and back all the way up the stairs. She thought the trip would last forever. The whip stung and bit into her flesh without doing permanent damage, but she didn't have time to consider that. Mr. Steele probably didn't want his property damaged, was her only thought on the subject.
'No, not the room with the bed. The other one. The place where a slut like this belongs!'
'NO, NO!' cried out Tanya, realizing they were taking her into the torture chamber. 'I'll be good. I… I'll do anything you want. Anything.'
'Sorry, kiddo,' said Marcus. 'You had your chance and blew it. Now you have to pay for it.'
'Chain her in the center of the room where I can see her,' ordered Henrietta. The men pulled Tanya's arms high above her head until her tits flattened from the extreme position. She felt the harsh iron manacles close around her slender wrists. They had chained her so that she had to stay on tip-toe. Already she felt the muscles in her calves beginning to tighten and pain her.
'Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you?' she demanded.
'Henrietta does nothing without my orders,' came the damnable, cool, level voice she had come to dread already. Mr. Steele walked into her line of sight and just stood. He might have been studying a side of beef for all the emotion he showed.
'Let me go. I… I'll give you money. I'll do anything you want, but don't keep me here like this.'
'My dear, you aren't listening. You seem an intelligent enough sort. Perhaps this will penetrate. You made a deal with me. Call me the Devil, if you will, but it is a deal nevertheless. For one month I will be able to do anything sexually to you I wish. You lost, I won. It's that simple.'
'You can't have her whipping me like that. She'll kill me.'
'Only if I order her to. Henrietta is most expert with the whip. Show the young lady, Henrietta.'
Mr. Steele stepped back and watched with clinical detachment as the red-haired woman started landing stunningly intense blow after blow on the chained woman's shoulders. Tanya sagged down, not caring that the full weight of her body rested now on her shoulders. She tried to keep the cramps from her legs and failed. Simply dangling and allowing the impact of the whip to swing her to and fro seemed the simplest.
'Behind the knees, Henrietta,' said Mr. Steele. And the whip started lashing at Tanya's knees. She was forced to put her feet back down on the cold stone floor. And this only increased the pain she felt lancing throughout her body. In a bizarre way, she had to admire Henrietta.
The woman was masterful with that whip. She landed it in the exact spot that would cause the most pain and the least physical damage. Tanya didn't have to look to know that her back was criss-crossed with dozens of red welts. Nor did she have to be a fortune teller to know that those marks weren't permanent.
But they could be.
All Mr. Steele had to do was order Henrietta to whip her a little harder, to use a slightly different angle of attack. That would lift the skin from her bones and leave her skeleton hanging from, the chains.
'Use the dildo on her,' came the cold command.
'No, please, not that!' cried Tanya in horror, seeing what Henrietta had in her hand. It was the biggest, thickest rubber dildo she had ever seen. She doubted she could have gotten her hand around it. The thick pillar of rubber had been obscenely crafted to look like a man's cock, but there the differences became more than the similarities. A real cock didn't have a handgrip fashioned into one end of a two-foot length. The thick head bobbed
