Golden Girl Ch. 08

Into Temptation

Dorée sighed as she took a seat by the fire in the servant's kitchen. She was exhausted from a day of hard work and her belly ached with cramps. But at the same time, she was proud to have performed so well. Through quick thinking and strenuous effort, she had managed to complete all the work given to her and still return in time to make sure every little thing was just so in the Scarlet Lady's chambers. The dinner was served, the sherry poured, the bedwarmer in place, and the goose-down pillows fluffed. The Lady preferred to undress herself, so Dorée's work usually came to an end when the Lady closed her doors for the evening. Tonight, she was more pleased than usual to have overcome her frustration and set everything back in order.

Dorée thought her day was done, and so she was quite surprised when Juliet entered the servant's kitchen with a beatific smile on her lips.

"You've been summoned by the Duc, Golden Girl," she said cheerfully. "Up now, come with me."

Dorée's eyes lit up in anticipation. Had her good work been noticed after all? She rose eagerly and followed Juliet. As they passed the main bedchamber, she noticed that the door was open a crack, revealing a darkened room. The Lady must be out. Strange, at this time of night.

She followed dutifully two steps behind Juliet down the winding corridors that lead out of the South Wing. The Duc's chambers were in the North Wing, so she and Juliet had to traverse the length of the sprawling estate to reach them. Dorée had not left the South Wing since entering the Lady's service a month past. Stepping out of the doors gave her a sudden chill as she recalled watching Berenice leave through the same portal. What if she saw Berenice in the halls? Would their eyes meet in sympathy, or would the deposed head chambermaid turn away in cold disdain once again?

Dorée's concerns were for naught. Berenice was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, her worries were quite misplaced, for she should have been thinking of the Duc. It was only when they arrived at his chamber door and Dorée was directed to scratch at the lintel that her heart began to beat faster with the realization that she did not truly know what to expect.

"Come," a languid voice from within commanded.

Dorée opened the door and stepped through. Juliet slipped in behind her and crossed the chamber to sit on a little ottoman at the feet of a regal figure in flowing robes. Dorée thought at first that it was a statue, but as her eyes adjusted to the low light she saw that it was in fact the Scarlet Lady. She was seated next to the Duc, who was clad in dark robes and occupied a tall oaken chair set on a dias. Seated in judgment, Dorée thought. His gaze was severe. The Lady's was impassive, impossible to read.

Dorée curtseyed just a trifle late and held the pose until she was instructed to rise.

"You've had a busy day, haven't you, Dorée?" the Duc said.

"Yes, your Grace. I was cleaning the South Wing as commanded. Have I...have I done something to displease you?"

There was a long, long pause. Then, unexpectedly, the Duc gave a chuckle and shook his head.

"No, my dear, you did what was bidden of you. You may not realize this, but the practical ingenuity you showed is in short supply here. Many of the servants you see in this Chateau are too lovely to be bred of common stock. They are nobles, sent here to learn humility or in repayment of debts owed to me by their families."

Dorée thought immediately of the gorgeous dark-haired couple she had seen chained across from each other in the washing chambers on her first day in the Chateau.

"Ah, those two!" She murmured to herself.

The Duc cocked a sharp ear in her direction.

"'Those two...'? Oh, you refer to my table steward and stewardess. Yes, they are both scions of the same royal family. Siblings, in fact. Twins."

Dorée blinked as this revelation hit her. That did explain how they were so well-matched, like two glossy black horses paired to pull the same carriage. But she had seen them embrace like lovers, hadn't she? And then there was the way the young man's member had jumped to see the girl's nakedness, the way he looked away in shame as she glanced up with barely-veiled desire...

Dorée's expression must have betrayed her bewilderment, because the Duc laughed softly and said,

"It shocks you? Well, you will see stranger things than that here. But, first, to business."

He nodded to the Lady, who returned his courtesy with equal aplomb.

"Your Mistress and her loyal Companion" --here Juliet gave a little giggle-- "inform me that you have been a diligent servant and a quick learner in the ways of pleasure. Therefore, the time has come to end your schoolgirl's lessons and charge you with a greater burden of responsibility. Is that not so, dear Lady?"

"It is indeed." She said in a flat tone. "While you will still work in the South Wing and serve me directly, you are now to take charge of the other chambermaids and instill in them more practical, efficient household management skills."

"But, my Lady, I hardly think I am qualified to—"

"You dare question your Mistress?" The Duc growled, his mercurial temper showing for the first time.

"No, your Grace. I only profess, in all humility--"

"Humility! What do you know of humility? If you are so humble and free from pride, let us see you take your place in the household in earnest. Let us see how long you can avoid the temptation to sin when a little power is placed in your grasp."

Dorée had no idea what sort of power he might be referring to, but she nodded nonetheless and murmured,

"Yes, your Grace. My Lady."

The Duc nodded his approval and called her a good girl, all smiles once again. But something darker passed through his mien as well, as if a shadow of cruelty lurked behind his delight. There was a deeper motive behind this new appointment. Still, it seemed to be exactly what she had wanted: recognition for her hard work and promotion within the household. She could hardly refuse. So she curtseyed again in acquiescence.

"My Companion will lead you to your new chambers." The Lady said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She turned her face away. In profile, however, her distant gaze now seemed almost regretful.

Juliet stood promptly and gave Dorée a mysterious smile. Having no other choice, Dorée followed her.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next weeks saw a radical change in Dorée's routine. No longer did she greet the Lady at the door and kneel to serve as her footstool. Instead, she tutored another girl in that duty. No longer did she sweep the marble and wax the parquet, but rather she established a schedule for regular cleaning to ensure that waste and debris such as used parchments did not pile up. And no longer did she sleep in simple servant's quarters. Rather, she received lodgings similar to those of an officer of the household; still not large, but quite luxurious compared with what she was used to.

The room was dominated by a four-post bed curtained in heavy bronze-coloured damask, with a dainty velvet settee at the foot. On the opposite wall was a small but exquisitely carved wardrobe which contained fresh linens, petticoats, shoes, and dresses suited to her newly elevated position. Strangely, to her eyes, the room also featured large oval mirrors in gilt frames on all four walls. She tried to avoid looking directly at them to avoid the sin of vanity, but sometimes she still caught fleeting glimpses of her body at the edges of the frames as she dressed for the day's work or undressed for her evening's repose.

Despite the veneer of luxury her new quarters imparted, Dorée soon found out that it was as difficult to direct others as it was to do the work herself. The maids who came to work in the South Wing each day seemed resentful of her rapid rise to power and found small ways of bucking her authority. Many was the time she longed to grab the duster from a girl's deliberately slow, careless hand and finish the job herself. There were even times when she had to do their work over, such as refilling the coals in the warming-pan because they'd been left to go out. But while directing the South Wing's staff was wearying mentally and frustrating emotionally, it did not exhaust her body the way serving had. She felt restless at night, as if her day's supply of vital energy had not been spent yet. The very lack of physical exertion and corporal punishment began to feel like a punishment in itself, for it lost her the stimulation she had become accustomed to.

The truth was, Dorée felt the loss of her Lady's tests and lessons keenly. During her training she had been touched every day, either to evoke pleasure or instill correcting pain. She had been allowed, even encouraged, to voice her desires and reveal her true reactions. Now, however, the Lady expected Dorée to conduct herself with proper restraint and treated her with the same courtesy she did her Companion. In some ways, Dorée was treated better. Juliet might get a swat now and then for being gleefully impertinent, but Dorée didn't have it in her to misbehave on purpose. As a result of her natural goodness, she was denied the ill-treatment she craved.

And so Dorée began to suffer from temptation. Especially at night, her restless mind replayed memories of those days, not so long ago, when she had been introduced to the sins of the flesh. Once more in her reveries the Lady's hands pressed down on her breast and the Companion's nails gripped her thighs while her tongue evoked the most exquisite sensations. The very memory caused her hips to squirm against the soft sheets and her fingers to grip the coverlet.

Even if she did manage to banish those vivid recollections, her inquisitiveness still drove her to try and understand the workings of the Chateau. Images arose in her memory of tiny details that she had fancied forgotten, and she came to grasp the import of events which she had not understood at the time. For instance, she recalled the lithe, doe-eyed dancing girl who had pleasured the Scarlet Lady with such avid devotion at the Feast, and for the first time she saw that scene not as sheer perversity, but as an act of worship. Now that Dorée knew first-hand, in her own body, what it felt like to be pleasured by the mouth of another woman, she sometimes fancied that it was she, and not the Scarlet Lady, who received such worship from the lips of a beautiful girl, while a man entered her from behind, a man just as dark-haired and handsome as the woman was beautiful...

When her thoughts had strayed that far, Dorée was compelled to sit up and pinch her own arms to punish herself for her impurity. She prayed not to be led into temptation. But she could not stop the pulse that throbbed hot and wet between her legs. She had been fully awakened to the pleasures that went with all the carnal activity she had witnessed, and she could no longer deny her urges.

Indeed, why should she quell her cravings? Did the Duc not say once that if she obeyed the Law of Nature and did as her body commanded, she would always be in line with the way of the Chateau? And did the Lady not say that she was to answer with her desires? Perhaps this was her latest test: to act on her own carnal impulses willingly, rather than under duress.

Dorée thought on such things for several nights. Then there came an evening when the air was soft and heavy with scent of lilac and the pond reverberant with frogsong. It was the first truly warm evening of the springtime. As the full moon rose white in the dusky pink sky, the fertile glory of it all stirred something wildly indulgent in Dorée. Impulsively, she summoned all the maids under her and commanded them see to the Lady's evening routine on their own. Her hard, sharp tone of voice was so unusual that they all curtseyed to her by reflex, surprised into obedience. Seeing that they were listening for once, she gave them strict instructions not to disturb her unless the Lady herself demanded it. When she was assured that they would do as she said, Dorée went to her room. There she committed her first sin: that of locking her door.

Inside her room, Dorée unlaced her stays and pulled her over-skirt and bodice up over her head. She shimmied out of her petticoats and linens, then stepped quickly toward the bed before she had a chance to change her mind. But she paused when she caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wall. Looking straight on, she saw that the mirrors reflected each other to create the illusion of an infinite tunnel of multiplied girls. In this fascinating new aspect, her body was unutterably beautiful to her own eyes. She looked wanton, yes, with high colour in her cheeks and her hair in disarray from her hasty undressing. But something about her that had once been meek and yielding now seemed wild and powerful, like a great white swan that raises its bowed head to take wing, imbued with graceful strength. When she raised her arm, an army of girls moved in perfect accord. A queer sense of control thrilled through Dorée.

If this was what disobedience felt like, she would gladly succumb to temptation.

Slipping through the curtains of her four-post bed, Dorée sank into the coverlet. She stretched voluptuously. Then, for the first time in her life, she let her hands caress her own body, from her throat down to her breasts, her flanks to her thighs. A shuddering breath shook her as the force of her desire moved her hands almost as if they were directed by a higher (or was it a lower?) power. The throbbing between her legs rose as the suppressed energies of all her nights of tormented resistance came back upon her at once.

Confused fragments of memory flashed once again through her mind, but now she acted on them instead of pushing them away. As she recalled being bitten on the thigh, she pinched herself there. As she recalled her breasts being fondled and sucked by the Chamberlain, so she wetted and teased her nipples with her fingers. And as she recalled, so distantly but still so vividly, seeing a girl penetrated by the shaft of a champagne bottle at the Feast, so she pierced herself in the same place with her middle finger, then two fingers, then three.

It was so slick inside of her, so wet and alive. She drew that wetness up out of her quivering hole and stroked between her lips, finding with her finger the knot of exquisite tension that Juliet always found with her tongue. It felt just as good to touch herself there now. In fact, it was almost better because she could control exactly how much pressure she used, knowing by touch and feel at once when to withdraw, when to delve, and when to speed up. O, speed up! Yes, there! The deft caresses of her own fingers were causing her pleasure to soar so fast, so high she could hardly believe she was reaching the peak already. She cried out in ecstasy, her fingers buried deep inside and the heel of her palm crushing her swelling bud to squeeze out the blissful wine of orgiastic abandon.

Dorée was still locked in that circle of self-pleasure, still crying out long and loud, when a quiet click came from the lock at her door. She was so rapt in sensation that the soft footsteps crossing the room couldn't penetrate her haze. She heard not a thing, until the moment the curtain was pulled back with a metallic screech and she was seized by the wrist of the hand she had plunged into herself.

"Traitor!" A high voice cried out in accusation.

And then it laughed.

No. It giggled.

"Juliet!" Dorée panted. "I was just..."

"I can see what you were just! You were just taking pleasure in yourself. Taking pleasure, which should be the right of your Master alone to give! You've broken the cardinal rule, Dorée. You're a thief of pleasure, a sinner, and a traitor to our Lady. And now everyone will know it!"

"Juliet, please, for my sake...for all that we've shared together...please don't tell the Duc."

Juliet only laughed again, and this time Dorée saw the vengefulness in her eyes.

"The Duc will be the first to know. Because it's my duty. And because I want my Lady for my own again."

Dorée shook her head in wild confusion, trying to pull away as Juliet's grip grew painfully tight.

"But you have her, you're her Companion!"

"Yes, I am. And you won't distract her from that."

Juliet pulled Dorée up by the wrist, holding her glistening-wet hand high.

There followed a most harrowing trip through the halls of the Chateau. Juliet pulled Dorée by the arm, while Dorée, still naked and flushed with her exertions, was dragged pleading all across the main complex. Her arousal dropped not a bit; it was even strangely enhanced by her exposure. Her thighs slid against her wet sex and rubbed the sensitized tissues until her juices ran down her legs. Along the corridors, servants and guests alike stood aside and watched as she was paraded before them. The very drama of the scene, with everyone lined up as spectators, swept Dorée over with a sense of theatrical unreality. And within the cushion of that unreality, there was something undeniably erotic about what she was undergoing.

So it was that when Dorée was dragged into the Duc's chambers and cast before him, her own body was the most eloquent witness against her. Certainly, Juliet held up her dripping hand like a trophy. But when the Duc ran a finger along her cleft, it was her flushed tissues, her involuntary moan, and the jerk of her hips against his hand that sealed her fate.

The Duc lapped up the sound of her cries with creamy satisfaction.

"So, our saintly Golden Girl has fallen to temptation at last."

"Your Grace, I only—"

Dorée choked on her words as the door opened in the foyer behind her and iron-shod boot-heels struck the marble. It could only be the Scarlet Lady.

The Duc gave Dorée's cheek an ungentle slap to bring her attention back to him.

"You only what? Do tell."

Doree gasped, unable to help her spike of dark pleasure at the sharp contact.

"I only tried to do what you wanted. I thought it was another test. I thought you meant for me to follow my natural instincts and answer with my desire."

The Duc gave one of his unhinged madhouse laughs.

"So it was! It was a test, and a trap. You have been lured, Golden Girl. Do you know who entrapped you?"

"J-Juliet?" Dorée ventured.

The Duc grabbed her thigh and squeezed it hard.

"No. It was you yourself. Your impure thoughts. Your unceasing questions. Your cleverness in trying to twist my words to suit what you wanted to do. You think you understand what goes on here? Understand this, then: what happens here is the fulfillment of desire. Your own deepest desire is for sexual martyrdom. And that is the desire which will be satisfied most fully and completely."

"My Lord, if I may," the Lady began diplomatically. The Duc cut her off with a feral growl.

"No. She is mine now. Take your Companion and go."

Even across the room, Dorée felt the Lady stiffen in affront at having her authority so blatantly undermined.

"It is part of her ordeal to be separated from the one she worships. Look at her. You know the truth." The Duc growled.

There was another long pause. Then, the Lady said,

"Very well. But I will be there when the turn happens."

"But of course."

"Very well. Juliet, come. The bench is for you tonight."

"Hurrah!"

Juliet shot Dorée one last gloating look, and then they were gone.

The door closed behind them. Dorée was left alone at the mercy of the Duc.