A Sneak Peek. . .

For all of you that have enjoyed my writings, here is an untitled preview of another storyline. Enjoy.
Untitled By T.S. Fesseln

Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depiction's of sex, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below.

Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at FESSELN1@aol.com . Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged.

Part 1

Chelsea once again struggled in her bonds, tugging at the manacles that held her wrists high above her head. She could not believe that this was happening to her and that her mother had let it happen. As she hung there alone, whimpering into the leather gag that had been forced between her lips and dreading the arrival of Doctor Brand, she thought back to her arrival at this house not a few hours ago.

Chelsea remembered the rain-shrouded gaslights that stood like sentinel wraiths in the night as the horse and carriage rumbled over the wet cobblestone streets. The smell of coal and autumn hung in the damp air as the she looked out the carriage window, trying to see the fabled city in the shadows that lurked just beyond the lampposts. Chelsea had lived a very sheltered life just outside London, never venturing far from her parents' estate other than the small village down the road. An army of maids and governess' and tutors provided her with all that she was curious about save actually seeing the world for herself. Now, from the confines of the cab, she saw the first glimpses of the London she had read so much about.

"Put the curtain back, Chelsea, proper ladies do not raise the carriage blinds," Chelsea's mother chastised.

"Yes, mother," Chelsea pouted and let the curtain slip back to covering the window.

Inside the carriage, a small brass oil lamp flickered and sputtered with the bumps in the road. Mrs. Cynthia Winters looked at her young, 17 year old daughter and wished that she was that young again. Her daughter was almost a younger copy of herself. Skin as pale as marble. A cherub-like face haloed by hair as golden as the sunrise. Her eyes were green, something from her father's side, and Chelsea's mouth was as perfect as a rose. Mrs. Winter was pleased that her daughter's figure was wasp-like and generous of bosom. She would be quite a prize at the balls and parties in a few months time.

"I wish I could have brought some of my books, Mother," Chelsea said as she stared absently at the curtain, imagining what was outside.

"You will not be needing such things during your stay with Dr. Brand, my lovely Chelsea. There will be other things that will be occupying your time there."

"But mother, you did not let me bring a single thing save for what I am dressed in." she trailed off.

"Everything will be provided for you, my Chelsea. You need not worry about such things."

But Chelsea did worry about such things. Her mother did not tell her anything about where she was going or what she was going to be doing while she stayed with Dr. Geoffrey Brand. All she knew was this stay was to improve her education in some way, to prepare her for her 'coming out' presentation. 'Only really privileged girls get the honor of attending Dr. Brandon's school, Chelsea.' she remembered her mother telling her. Soon, she thought to herself, she would find out.

As if reading her mind, the carriage pulled to a halt. The cabby climbed down and opened up an umbrella to ward the rain off of his two passengers. He escorted the mother to the door of the house first before going back to the daughter. He waited by his carriage, making sure that the women were safe.

Chelsea looked up at the granite building, its' curtained windows glowing like the eyes of some medieval dragon. Her mother knocked on the door using the gargoyle-like brass knocker. Within moments, the door opened and a maid smiled.

"Welcome, Lady Winters," she said, stepping aside so Chelsea and her mother could enter.

"If you would, please make yourself comfortable in the parlor," the maid said again as she took the damp wraps from both women.

The parlor was aglow from the fire in the huge fireplace and from the many wax candles flickering about the room. It was a clutter of exotic furniture and knick-knacks: an elephant foot stool, a tigers' skin rug, a chair made of antlers, a carved ivory Venus. A library of books lined the walls. Chelsea was glad for this, for it meant she would have something to read above what lessons Dr. Brand may have in store for her.

"Lady Winters," a soft, lyrical woman's voice spoke from behind the inquisitive girl, "this must be Chelsea."

Chelsea turned around. Standing there in a black satin dress was a woman of dark skin; a woman from India. She was tall and slender and her skin was the color of tea with cream. Her eyes were dark and exotic and her thin smile seemed to promise things forbidden.

"I am pleased to meet you," the woman from India continued, "I am Indira, my Lady Chelsea. Doctor Brand will be with us shortly. He has something else to attend to presently. It was his wish that I escort Lady Chelsea to her room and to have her freshen up a bit after such a long carriage journey."

"As you wish," Cynthia Winters said simply to Indira before turning to her daughter, "Follow Indira upstairs, Chelsea."

It was a simple order, like all the simple orders that the young woman was expected to obey without question.

"Are you going to be here when I am done, Mother?" Chelsea asked.

"Yes, Chelsea, I will be. Doctor Brand and I will see you after you attend to yourself."

Without another word, the young woman followed Indira down the small hallway and up a flight of stairs. All along, Chelsea admired the rugs and polished cherry wood paneling and the paintings which lined the walls. The pair climbed up to the third floor, where Indira stopped at a door halfway down the hall and unlocked it.

"This is your room. All that you will need is here, Lady Chelsea. As you can see, a hot bath has already been drawn," Indira smiled as she showed the young blonde a polished copper bath filled with warm water and sprinkled with rose petals.

"Let me help you out of your clothes," Indira offered as she stepped in back of Chelsea and began to unlace her dress.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Chelsea asked uncomfortably, "I had a bath before the journey here."

Indira continued to unlace Chelsea's dress, "Yes, Lady Chelsea, I am afraid it is. Doctor Brand insists all of his wards be as clean and presentable as possible at all times. You are a very lucky young lady to have such an opportunity as this."

Indira peeled off the first layer of clothes, neatly folding them and setting them upon the canopied bed. As she did so, she gave a slight pull on a cord beside the bed. Within moments, another woman entered. She was a tall, dark-haired woman with dark blue eyes and the same kind of smile that Indira wore.

"Lady Chelsea, this is Simone. She is your maid of the chamber while you are here," Indira said.

"Good evening, Lady Chelsea," Simone said in a light French accent as she curtsied.

"Hello," was all that Chelsea could say.

The two women continued to undress Chelsea, each layer of clothing being folded neatly. Chelsea was very apprehensive about being nude in front of these strangers. She did not enjoy being nude to begin with, but here with two women she had never seen before made her blush and fidget. However, Mother insisted that this was the best school for Chelsea to prepare her for her coming out, so she would endure it as best she could.

The last article of clothing was finally set aside, "Lady Chelsea, it is time for us to prepare you for your first meeting with Master Brand."

It all happened too fast for the young woman to even comprehend what was happening. Indira grabbed Chelsea's wrists and held them as Simone stepped around her with a pair of hardened leather manacles. With a click, Chelsea's wrists were captured together. Chelsea was about to scream when Simone then produced a leather ball with buckles and forced it into Chelsea's mouth while Indira continued to hold the young woman still.

All that came out from behind Chelsea's gag was a series of whines and moans as tears began to run down her face. She simply did not know what to do save for trying to struggle against the two women and the bindings that held her.

"She is indeed a frisky one, Mistress Indira," the French woman spoke as she brought over a length of cord from beside the bed and hooked it onto the chain between Chelsea's cuffs.

"She will bring Master Brand much pleasure to train, I believe," Indira replied as she continued to hold the squirming Chelsea.

Simone stepped over to the bed again and began to pull on the cord. It pulled on Chelsea's manacles until her arms were stretched above her head and she had to nearly stand on her toes to avoid being suspended.

Chelsea continued to try and struggle what little she could, screaming into her gag. Indira stepped around her, looking at her as if she would a prize horse upon the auction floor.

Lady Chelsea was indeed a beautiful girl, tall and slender with a regal air about her. She was as delicate as a willow. Her skin was as pale and flawless as an ivory statue. Her breasts were large and ample, crowned with a pair of large, pale pink nipples that had already darkened and stiffened a bit in the cool of the room. The young girl's hips flared nicely and between her legs was a small, golden colored patch of curls.

From one of the armoires, Simone collected a meter long pole of wood and brass, with leather cuffs attached to either end. As the French woman knelt down, Chelsea realized what the pole was going to be used for and started kicking and flailing as best she could. She nearly kicked Simone in the mouth, but with the efforts of both women, Chelsea soon found her legs spread wide apart and her toes barely touching the floor.

"I shall go and tell Master Brand his new ward is ready," Simone said, bowing slightly to the East Indian woman before leaving the room.

"Chelsea," Indira spoke as she faced the helpless young woman, "You are very beautiful."

Indira's fingers gently touched Chelsea's pink, outer lips, caressing them slightly. They were mere whispers of touches.

"Men will desire you above all others," Indira continued, "Master Brand and I will see to that."

Indira's finger slipped between Chelsea's lips and began to rub up and down her slit, coming close but not touching Chelsea's clitoris.

"You will learn to enjoy this, Chelsea. You will learn what treasures a woman has hidden in her body. You will sing with pleasure. . ."

Chelsea felt Indira's finger continue to massage her quim, rubbing up and down inside her; causing little flares of bliss to rumble through her like she had never felt before. Her Mother told her never to touch her sex save for cleaning. The feeling was new to her, something she had not expected and began to desire more of. She closed her eyes and drank in all of the bliss that Indira's touch could produce.

"But first, you must learn patience and obedience."

Indira removed her finger and stepped away.

Chelsea moaned into her gag, pleading to Indian woman not to stop; not to leave her alone.

Without a word, Indira turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Chelsea did not know for how long she hung there. Her tears had dried and her arms had begun to ache. Struggling was useless. It seemed as if all of her world had come crashing down in a confusion of fear and pleasure and anger. Yet, all her thoughts came back to Indira's cryptic words and sensual touch.

Then the young woman heard the door swing open.

First to come through the door was Indira, followed closely by Chelsea's mother and a tall, handsome gentleman dressed in a gray suit coat and walking cane. Doctor Brand was indeed a striking figure of a man, broad of shoulder and the bearing of a panther. He had a strong, angular face with eyes as gray as a winter's day. His head was topped with thick, closely cropped dark hair flecked with gray, the same with his mustache and full beard. To Chelsea, he looked more like a commander of an army than an experienced doctor.

"Your daughter is as beautiful as you are, Lady Winters," Doctor Brand said in a baritone voice as rich as polished black walnut.

"I am glad you are pleased, Master Brand." Her mother replied.

Chelsea writhed in her bonds; the shame of being shown to Dr. Brand made her blush fiercely and she tried to turn and face away from his prying eyes. He slowly circled her, looking at her flesh as if he would look at a prize Thoroughbred upon the auction green. Gently, Dr. Brand cupped Chelsea's chin in his fingers and stared into her green eyes.

"Chelsea, I will tell you this only once. You are a beautiful young woman and with my help, you will become even more desirable. In order to do this, my dear child, you must obey every word that Indira and I say without question. Fail to do so will result in a fearful punishment such as a flogging. Nod your head if you understand this."

Slowly the captive blonde nodded her head, still looking into the cold gray eyes of Dr. Brand.

"While you are here, Chelsea, you will be known as Dove. You will answer to the name of Dove or you will be punished. Do you understand, Dove?"

Again, Chelsea nodded.

As Chelsea and the Doctor talked, Indira stepped around in back of the young captive, a riding crop in hand.

"Did you enjoy Indira touching you, Dove?"

Chelsea flushed and closed her eyes. How could he ask that of her? Yes she enjoyed it but to admit to it would be a torture her soul could not endure. She squirmed in her bonds and whimpered in her gag but all for not.

"Answer me, Dove," Dr. Brand commanded.

Chelsea shook her head as a new wave of tears began to run down her cheeks.

Snap!

A white-hot sting shot through her rear and Chelsea screamed into her gag and Indira whipped the crop across the captive ass.

"Did I not tell you you must obey my every word, Dove? It saddens me to hurt you like this, but you did not answer the question truthfully. Indira told me you treasured the touches she gave you."

Chelsea barely heard the words as the sharp pain ebbed into a dull ache. The Doctor still held her chin and looked into her delicate face.

"Did you enjoy Indira touching you?" the Doctor asked again.

The young blonde girl nodded, opening her tear-glistening eyes and looking at Dr. Brand's smiling face. His eyes warmed a bit as he patted her on the cheek and gently brushed her hair away from her face.

"Good, my dear Dove, very good. I will leave you with Indira as I escort your mother out. Be good and obey her, for she is a much demanding person than I."

With that said, Doctor Brand and her mother left and closed the door, leaving Chelsea alone with the exotic Indian woman. Looking into her dark eyes, the blonde captive saw a cruelness there that she had not seen before. There was no smile on her lips.

"That, Dove, will NEVER happen again," Indira hissed, "You will never embarrass me in front of Master Brand nor anyone else. There are much worse punishments than a mere whipping. Do you understand, Dove?"

Chelsea nodded.

"I would leave you now to think upon your misdeeds, but Master Brand wants me to give you a taste of pleasure," the woman said icily, running the crop up the inside of one of Chelsea's thighs.

Stepping forward, the woman set her crop aside and gently began to caress her captive's nipples. The touch was slight but the feel sent little ripples of pleasure through Chelsea. Indira then bent down and took one into her mouth, suckling it and nibbling at it with her teeth. The Indian woman would first pay this lascivious attention to one nipple and then the other, switching back and forth. Every time Chelsea felt a building wave of bliss.

Indira's hands were as skillful as her tongue. Chelsea felt her fingers glide over her helpless body, cupping the cheeks of her bottom and gently massaging them.

Then, slowly, Indira's attentions began to sink lower. Her slight kisses trailed down over the flat of her stomach and ended and the soft curls of her nest. Tenderly, Indira spread the captive girls lips aside and began to run her deft tongue up and down Chelsea's sex. Pure pleasure began to engulf the young girl and her moans were loud and wanton. With every lick and tickle, a cascade of ecstasy swallowed her until it crashed over her and swept her away.

Weakened by the pleasure, Chelsea just hung in her bonds as Indira combed her prisoner's hair back and sweetly kissed the girls' cheek.

"That, Dove, will happen again if you follow my every command," Indira whispered into Chelsea's ear, "I have to go now to attend to other duties, but Simone will prepare you for tea. Obey her as you would me. If I find you have disobeyed Simone in any way, it will be I that punishes you."

The East Indian woman then patted Chelsea on the head, pulled on a cord to summon the maid and left Chelsea hanging limply and wondering what was she in store for in the next couple months.

To Be Continued. . .