CHAPTER FOUR
APPROACHING MIDNIGHT
In the final hour before midnight of that first day at the
Chateau Noir, I was summoned from my bed chamber by Mlle. T.
herself. She held in her hand a single lighted candle in an
ornate silver candlestick, which cast a misty glow over her
strong features, softening them a bit, it seemed, though it
could well have been an illusion. Indeed, an illusion it must
have been, for I cannot say for certain that, during all the
many years I have known Mlle. T., I have ever seen her
demonstrate any true emotion other than what would suit her
strict adherence to her philosophy of stern severity as
concerning the training of her students. Severity, not for
it's own sake, but as the best means for attaining a very
specific end. An end which on that first night at the Chateau
Noir remained a complete mystery to me, but that would later
on become clear.
There was method to Mlle. T.'s cruelty. And her methods
almost always attained her desired results.
"At midnight," reminded Mlle. T., "our young Beverly is due
in my chamber for an exercise that I believe you will find
quite interesting. But there is yet time now, I should think,
for a brief tour of the sleeping arrangements we provide for
our students."
"But will we not disturb their sleep by visiting them in
their bed chambers at so late an hour?" I asked.
"Not all of them are asleep, I believe," she responded, with
a tight, knowing smile. "And besides, we have here at the
Chateau a means of observation that would not disturb the
lightest sleeper among them. Come," said the Mistress,
leading me out into the corridor.
Our way dimly lit by the flame of her candle, Mlle. T. led
me through a virtual maze of darkened passageways, passing
though a number of doors, and finally arriving at the base of
a long, narrow, winding staircase. This staircase ascended to
a small landing where we were confronted by a tall, narrow
door, covered in what appeared to be a plush black velvet.
"This is the door to our observation corridor," Mlle. T.
said, quietly, as she fitted a small iron key into the door's
lock. "Because of our methods of instruction, Thomas," she
continued, "it is of the utmost importance that we be able to
observe our young charges at all hours, day or night, in order
to assure that their training is proving effective.
"A strong-willed, stubborn young girl can very well pretend,
by day, to be accepting the lessons of her training, when in
fact, by night, she is a private resistor. We therefore make
it a practice to see that all our girls behave in private as
they are instructed to do in class. They do not know that we
watch them, you see, so in their assumed privacy, they
unknowingly reveal themselves for what they truly are.
"Also, there are lessons and activities we assign the girls
to perform on their own, which we would have no other way of
determining their accomplishment were it not for the ability
to directly monitor those activities.
"Most of the girls, for instance, during some point in their
training, are forbidden the private pleasures of self-love.
We do this in order to teach them control of their senses
through self-control and self-denial. After many hours of
direct and indirect stimulation they must lie in their beds at
night with the day's accumulated passions simmering within
them unquenched.
"At other times a student is ordered, after a full day of
repeated stimulation and climax, to continue the activity on
her own, within the assumed privacy of her own bed chamber,
until she has attained a set minimum number of masturbatory
orgasms before she can surrender herself unto the balm of
sleep.
"All these activities are secretly monitored for completion
and any failures are thoroughly punished upon the following
day, although it is always a complete mystery to the girls
themselves as to how their failures have been detected.
"Here, you see how it is done," Mlle. T. said, as she
quietly pushed open the velvet door. It slid in with a hush
of air and I soon found myself within a long, dark corridor,
the ceiling and floor of which were lined with more of the
same plush black velvet material that had covered the heavy
door.
Along the walls of this corridor I could just make out large
sections of black velvet drapery, which framed what appeared
to be windows of some sort, in height about six feet and in
width about four. Something, certain vague shapes, that I
assumed to be in the night-shrouded courtyard outside the
building, glimmered and shifted beyond these windows. My
eyes could barely make out these indistinct shapes, for my
vision remained somewhat dazzled by the flame of Mlle. T.'s
candle, which flickered near our faces.
But now, with a single puff of breath, Mlle. T. extinguished
this candle and, very gradually, my eyes grew accustomed to
the deeper darkness.
I now saw that the velvet framed rectangles of glass, which
lined the corridor as far as the nebulous darkness permitted
my vision to reach, were not windows giving onto the outside
of the building at all, but were windows that gave view rather
into the insides of a long series of bed chambers, which
apparently were situated along either side of the corridor.
There were no doors leading into these rooms from the corridor
in which we stood, but, as one walked along within the velvet
lined corridor, one could look through the series of gilt-
framed windows, and easily see into each of the bed chambers,
and so observe the activities of the occupants within.
As my vision became more and more adjusted to the faint
illumination that now came from out of the bed chambers
themselves, the purpose of the corridor became more clear to
me.
"But how can they not know that they are observed?" I
whispered to my guide. "If we can see in through these
windows, then surely they can see out."
"But, you see," replied Mlle. T., not at all bothering to
keep her voice low, "these are not windows. They are
mirrors."
"What? Mirrors?", I exclaimed, still endeavouring to keep
my voice down. "But, I don't understand."
Mlle. T. smiled slightly at my confusion. "Specially
constructed mirrors," she said. "If fact it was your uncle,
himself, who bought them from a glass maker in Egypt and had
them sent here for the very purpose of constructing this
chamber. You see, these mirrors are so designed as to appear
as mirrors from one side, that side facing inward to the
girls' bed chambers, but to function as a clear glass window
from the other side, that side on which we now stand. The
inner chambers are always visible because they are always
lighted, however subtly, as we insist the girls keep at least
a single candle burning in their rooms throughout the night,
as a further exercise in discipline, as we tell them.
"And the unusual thickness of the glass, as well as the
close velvet wrapping with which this corridor is lined, makes
them impervious to the slightest sound.
"We can, however, due to a special vent which opens into
each chamber through a complex series of air baffles, hear
sounds from within these chambers as clearly as if we were
standing within the rooms themselves. But no sound we make
here can be heard by the occupants within. It is an ingenious
design, is it not?"
Indeed it was. And, as we drew near to the first
mirror/window that presented itself to our view on the left
wall of the corridor, an even truer appreciation of the
architect's gift filled me with unqualified awe.
The scene through this velvet framed window, lighted from
within by the single candle Mlle. T. had predicted, showed a
small bed placed lengthwise not two feet from the inner
surface of the glass. There was a small night table placed at
the head of the bed and almost against the glass window. And,
as the lighted candle had been placed upon this table, and so
burned between the window and the bed, the figure upon that
bed was as ideally illuminated for our view as if she had been
lying on the lighted stage of a theatre.
I recognised the girl immediately. It was young Allison,
the haughty and proud brown-haired girl of seventeen, the one
who had held herself so aloof from our examination earlier in
the day, and the one who's defiant spirit Mlle. T. had hinted
to me would be effectively broken in time, no matter how
wilful and self-determined the girl appeared now.
Here again, however, the girl was displaying yet another
side to her self-absorption. Where earlier she had maintained
an attitude of total self-control and emotional restraint,
while under the gaze of her Mistress and myself, and had
suggested the attitude of a young lady for which the display
of anything like uninhibited passion would be unthinkable, she
was now quite obviously involved in just such an undisguised
act of passion.
Allison lay upon her narrow bed, her short sleeping tunic
worked up above her smooth hips, and both her hands were
busily occupied between her widely parted legs. The gleam of
the candlelight upon the shiny wetness upon her inner thighs,
and upon the fine sheen of perspiration that graced her
intently creased brow where a few damp brown curls lay
plastered, told us clearly that the girl's private passion was
already nearing it's peak.
The approaching crisis was heralded as well by the regular
little moaning grunts and gasping exhalations that reached us
easily through the conducting baffles of the sound vents.
"See the passion of which this one is capable?" Mlle. T.
said, a hint of admiration in her voice, as a proud art
instructor might speak of a rough-talented new student who,
despite a decided need for polish and refinement, showed the
clear promise of a bright future.
"Such power!" she exclaimed. "When her spirit has at last
been broken and the true extent of her passion released, our
Allison will something to reckon with, I assure you," she
said. "I can see great things in this one."
An sudden increase in the intensity of the young girl's
self-induced sensations manifested itself at this point by a
general stiffening of all her limbs. Her eyes, which had
previously been squeezed tightly shut, now flew open in an
expression almost of fear at the climax that was quickly
rising within her. Her back arched, and one hand reached
violently out to clutch a handful of the white bed sheet
beneath her, as the other fairly flew in a rapid back and
forth movement against the tender summit of her young
womanhood.
Then, with a sharp scream, her body erupted inward upon
itself, hunching and contorting. Again and again came the
arching of the back, the scream, and the subsequent writhing
collapse back onto the bed.
At last the girl's exhausted hand fell away from her wet
centre, though for some seconds afterward a tremor of isolated
after-shock now and again radiated out from her fluttering
centre to tremble the girl's strong young body from head to
toe, as she gradually recovered her composure.
Allison looked somewhat dazed in the aftermath of her
passion, and perhaps somewhat ashamed of her temporary loss of
control. Finally, she sat up and in a thoroughly businesslike
manner pulled her brief tunic back down to modestly cover
herself as best she could, arranged herself primly, and
folding her hands chastely above her waist, settled herself
for sleep.
"Look at her," remarked Mlle. T. Her voice now held a trace
of disdain. "She regards herself as pure as the driven snow.
In the morning she will no doubt deny to herself that such a
thing as private passion were possible. It must have been a
wicked dream, she will tell herself. Such false prudishness
is very difficult to eradicate. Very difficult, indeed. She
will take much work, this one," said Mlle. T. as we stepped
away from this window and approached the next.
Here we saw young Stephanie once again, not many hours since
her "testing" by her Mlle. T. This was the brown-haired girl
of sixteen who, as I had then observed, had been unable to
resist the intimate caresses of her skilful Mistress.
Stephanie's chamber as well was lighted by a single
flickering candle, and by it's light I saw that she lay bound
to her small bed with straps of soft leather in such a way
that, as Mlle. T. explained it to me, the girl could have no
manual access either to her soft breasts or to that sweet
secret treasure between her legs which was her great weakness.
The girl's wrists were tied, bound together at the head of
the iron bedstead, and her ankles were similarly fixed to the
frame's far end. The only movement possible for Stephanie was
the one she made now, a sort of writhing effort, which caused
her finely muscled thighs, which she pressed close together,
to abrade each other in a slow and deliberate manner.
"There are many in the world like our Stephanie," said Mlle.
T., thoughtfully. "Girls who have known the pleasures of men
at too young an age, when their bodies have fully developed
but their minds have not. She is therefore unable to control
her primitive desires and thereby, the true power of her sex.
See how, even now, with the ordeal of the Tongue awaiting her,
she is unable to resist the insistent demands of her body."
It was true. Even though bound in such a way as to prevent
the direct stimulation of her nether intimacies by way of her
own hands, it was apparent that Stephanie was seeking release
by other, less direct, means. The slow, deliberate
frictioning of her inner thighs was clearly having a self-
pleasing effect on the girl, as she quietly struggled towards,
at least, some semblance of orgasm.
As we watched, she appeared to approach the achievement of
her goal with a slight gasp and trembling shudder that flowed
upward through her tense frame. But all deteriorated
suddenly, and she fell back from the summit of her release
with a small, lamenting cry of frustration.
Stephanie's near climax had not satisfied her and, after a
moment, during which her body lay limp against the coverlet,
she again began the same slight shifting of her thighs as
before.
"She knows she cannot obtain any real release through such
indirect efforts. But see how she tries. She will be
absolutely frantic by morning. The Tongue will teach her to
control such impulses."
At this, I inquired as to the nature of this ordeal to which
young Stephanie was to be subjected, but Mlle. T. only smiled
and demanded my patience. I would see for myself, she assured
me, soon enough.
The two of us then passed further along the corridor and
soon stood before another of the gilt-framed windows. The
chamber into which we now gazed was somewhat larger than those
we had seen so far, evidently because it was intended to
accommodate two of Mlle. T.'s students instead of only one.
There were two of the small iron beds, although only one of
these was occupied. Two young girls lay upon this bed, their
coltish limbs intertwined in a lethargic embrace, their lips
pressed softly together in a tender kiss.
When the two faces separated at last, I recognised the girls
as Ariel and Jennifer. Ariel - the dark, virginal, but
somehow knowing young one, whose innate sensuality had been
provocatively obvious in her sensuous movements and shy
glances. And Jennifer - the somewhat timid, though apparently
physically more experienced of the two. So much alike did
these two girls appear that only through the contrasting
difference between Jennifer's short-cut straight black hair
and Ariel's somewhat longer mane of raven curls could the two
be readily distinguished one from the other.
"The Blissful Idylls of Lesbos," murmured Mlle. T., as we
gazed in upon the entwined couple. "Our Ariel has long
maintained a taste for female games. This is something we
encourage here at Chateau Noir, as part of every girl's
training. Many of our customers wish to see the girls they
purchase entertain each other in that exotic way from time to
time. However, in Ariel's case there is a slight
complication.
"You see, a certain French gentleman, who's name would no
doubt be familiar to you, and for that reason I will refrain
from mentioning it, has already chosen young Ariel as a future
acquisition, subsequent to the completion of her training, of
course. This gentleman's tastes are quite specific. He
wishes the girl to be totally devoted to the pleasure of men,
to the exclusion of her own fulfilment by any other means. He
requests that Ariel be conditioned, not only against the
pleasuring of other women, but also against the solitary
pleasuring of herself.
"Our reputation at Chateau Noir rests on our unfailing
ability to meet out client's requests, and so our Ariel has
been destined for a most unusual treatment. Rather severe, I
am afraid, but one which I must admit I have always found
fascinating.
"Ariel has been designated for pruning. The procedure shall
take place within a few days."
This "pruning" signified nothing more to my mind than had
the earlier mention of the "Tongue." But I did not direct an
inquiry toward Mlle. T. I assumed that all, as she had said
before in response to my inquiries, would be made clear to me,
if the Mistress so intended.
Meanwhile, the girl we had been considering removed herself
smoothly from the embrace of young Jennifer, and turned head-
to-tail with her companion, in order to join with her in an
even more intimate embrace, covering the inner thighs of the
somewhat reluctant girl with a series of precocious kisses,
starting at the girl's knees, and then moving quickly upwards
to areas of more vulnerable sensitivity.
With these insistent caresses, Jennifer's reluctance seemed
to melt like a frost before fire, and soon she began to emit
soft sounds of love, followed by increasingly urgent cries of
devotion and, at last, a sudden and almost despairing wail of
release, after which she collapsed into the arms of her
amorous bed mate, who now comforted her tenderly through the
shuddering sobs that followed the pleasure-storm's peak.
"These two will spend most of the next few nights at these
amusements," said Mlle. T., "even though such games have been
specifically forbidden to them both, due to the circumstances
I have described. Jennifer's punishment has already been
selected. And as for Ariel, she must, I suppose, be allowed
these last few nights of girl-play, for after her destined
treatment, such games will be quite beyond her."
Once again, as I followed Mlle. T. further down the
corridor, I found myself wondering at the nature of Ariel's
"impending treatment", the "pruning", and, indeed, Stephanie's
promised "session with the Tongue."
The "Tongue?" "Pruning?" What could such words mean?
It was soon after this that our my tour of the student bed
chambers of the Chateau Noir came to an abrupt end, for the
small gold watch that Mlle. T. carried on a chain at her waist
soon began to chime softly with a musical, crystalline pinging
sound.
Twelve notes. It was now midnight, and Mlle. T. and I had
an appointment to keep.
