The Hidden Chateau

The Diary Reveals All

The search for the lost diary — if it existed — took a lot of time. By requirement of the Council we always wore bondage suits for the task, though we were allowed to forgo restraints on our arms, legs or hands. We started looking for any indication of a hidden safe, cupboard, room, drawer … All those sort of ‘secret’ places beloved of novelists. Nothing. We were methodical, taking a room at a time. We searched in the upholstery, in cushions, mattresses, the underside of tables, even the floors. Still nothing. 

“You know,” I said to Rod. “I think we’re looking in the wrong places. I think the old boy probably didn’t bother hiding it. I think he probably kept it where he could work on it when he wanted to write something. Where would he have normally have worked when he wanted to be alone?”

We looked at each other, the same thought slowly forming.

The library was as I remembered it. Walking over to the big leather chair I’d been sitting in when Rod found me on the night of my ‘dare’, I studied it, walking round it and looking at it with fresh eyes. Why hadn’t I noticed that the leather was in perfect condition? No cracking, no signs of wear anywhere. There was some dust, yes, but the leather … Leather supposedly this old should be dry and brittle, not supple and polished as this was.

“What was I looking at when you found me? Apart from you, of course.”

“Something near the desk over there, I think.” Rod tried to see what I was doing. 

I seated myself carefully in the chair. “When you did your, um, initiation, where did you find yourself after they’d done with you?” 

“Down in the entrance hall actually.” He laughed. “I’m apparently descended from a servant girl the old bugger or his son knocked up.” He eyed me grinning. “You, on the other hand, seem to be his legitimate line.”

“Which means there had to be a Comtesse … Not knowing a hell of a lot about my parentage …” I stopped. “There, take a look at the bookshelf this side of the window. That’s the one. Third shelf from the bottom. There’s a book that doesn’t look as if it belongs there. It’s a different size and the cover doesn’t match …”

“I don’t see … Oh. Wait a moment.” Rod walked to where I’d indicated and pulled a thick book from the shelf. All the other books were a brown leather appearance, this one was a lighter tan — like the books in the housekeeper’s room. He opened it and stared. “Bloody hell … How’d you know that? It’s the old bugger’s diary right enough.” He peered at the page he had open. “Tricky to read, but he seems to have recorded everything he did on a daily basis. Illustrations as well!”

“Let me see.” I joined him and he handed me the book. “You’re right.” I flipped a few pages and noted that the old Comte must have been an artist because he’d made sketches in places of what appeared to be Ligarans and humans, and more strangely, what appeared to be human female hybrids. “Hell, this is a treasure trove. Let’s get home, I think there’s some serious study needed here.”

“I’m for that, okay.” He grinned. “At least we’ve done our feeding session for today, and now I’m hungry.”

I was right, the diary did have all the details of what had happened and a bit more. As always nothing was as straightforward as the Ligarans suggested, and there were complications on both sides. It was very late by the time I’d stopped reading and making notes. The Comte had certainly tried his best to retrieve the situation, offering himself as a substitute when the designated son had refused pointblank to undergo the transformation. It appeared that he, contrary to his apparent orientation, had a liaison with a ‘maid’ who’d turned out to be a trans-man and simply refused to give her up in order to become what he termed a ‘monstrous aberration.’ 

The Council was at first sympathetic, but when he stirred up something of a rebellion it split, and the boy had taken advantage of this to set people against the Ligarans — who retaliated. I read the Comte’s account of what followed with a sinking feeling. Even though the old boy had tried to patch things up again and remained optimistic right to the end of his days which was where, for obvious reasons, the entries ceased, the Ligarans had taken a hard line.

Rod and I worked on the diary for two weeks in whatever time we could between our jobs and the Ligaran’s requiring one or both of us to service them. It was a fascinating account life ‘before’ things went wrong, describing a happy, tolerant community, though there were hints of a few individuals who weren’t completely happy with their lives or their positions within it. By the time we’d finished reading and cross reading, we had a fair idea of what was missing and why.

I reported to my job at the Co-Op one morning after finishing the task and still wrestling with how we could address it with the Ligarans, in a very thoughtful frame of mind. The boss greeted me with a smile.

“I heard you were up before the Council again. I wondered why you’ve been so preoccupied this last week or so. Have you infringed something again?”

“What? Oh, no,” I laughed. “I'm just used to wearing the hood I feel naked without it.” I shrugged. “Besides, it goes with the bondage suits I’m required to wear since … and it matches the fancy underwear I need now!” We both laughed. “No, we’re wrestling with what we’ve learned from an old diary, and trying to think of ways to use it to get our ‘masters’ to change a few rules. Rod’s helping me.”

“The hood suits you, actually. What are you researching? Still studying the old agreement?”

“Yes, and we found some new stuff.” I paused, not wanting to reveal too much. “There may be a way to get the Ligarans to ease up a bit on us — and allow us to have proper relationships again.”

“That’d be a good trick. How you cope with sharing your flat with Rod, though … It’s hard enough for me and Will in a cottage. At least we have Mistress Lavina to keep us under control.”

“I expect she does that very well,” I shot back. Mistress Lavina was a muscular woman and a dominatrix, though she’d born several children. She was a stunning figure, a bodybuilder and  rather intimidating when she wanted to be. She ran the waterfront cafe Rod and I now regularly visited of an evening. “Rod and I manage, but if we can find the right answers, we may be able to change things for everyone. We’re working on it.”

“Well, if Will and I can help, give us a shout — Lavina as well, she’d jump at the chance.”

“Don’t worry, we will.” I poured myself a coffee and walked toward my section, running the day’s tasks through my head. It wasn’t as if I was overworked to be honest. The store was never that busy, and boredom was my biggest problem. Dust and tidy the displays, refill the shelves that needed it, put price tags on new stock … I could do it in my sleep. I could probably do most of it while ‘servicing’ someone sexually if I really tried. I wondered what Rod was doing as I worked, my mind half wrestling with how to make use of what we’d learned studying the diary.

“Jack?” The boss was at my side. “I’ve a ‘delivery’ for you.” He handed me a box. “Use the quad. The instructions are on the label. Better get cracking.”

“Okay.” I felt my pulse pick up. The label gave the address, and then said, ‘Jack Hevea-Ffaluss to deliver himself wearing the enclosed item. No other clothing except his hood.’

I opened the box and found it contained a heavy harness, long sleeved gloves and odd looking thigh high boots. 

“Change in the staff room, and head straight out, Jack.” The Boss made a face. “It’s the Ligaran’s favourite ‘snack bar’. I’ll expect you back when I see you.”

“Er, thanks. I think.” I read the instructions again. I was to wear just the harness, gloves, boots and hood. “Uh, Boss, I’ll need help to get out of this suit, and to get this harness rigged …”

“Right. Yes, I expect you do.” The Boss grinned. “Okay, we’d better get cracking.”

The quad, an electric powered ‘bubble’ vehicle — a sort of perspex bulb with a wheel at each corner in which I had to sit astride the engine and battery packs — was a challenge to drive with my big scrotum and semi tumescent cock unconfined and laying loose on the front edge of the seat.

The house was, as he’d said, a favourite place for Ligarans. I entered through a side gate, found the human who managed it, and reported.

“Good. Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Maurice.” He looked over my outfit. “Come with me and I’ll introduce your ‘customers’. I’ve got a couple of Councillors here this morning … you’re here at their order.” He grimaced. “My usual staff apparently isn’t to their taste today. I hope you’re fully loaded.”

“With these balls?” I laughed. “I should be able to keep them happy, they haven’t been drained since yesterday afternoon.”

“This way then. They want you unrestrained …” He opened a door and announced, “Your order, sirs.”

I stepped into the room and bowed. “Jack Ffaluss, sirs. How do you wish to use me?” 

“We do not.” The voice of the larger Ligaran said in my head. “Josh, however, does. Josh, he is yours.”

I froze as I was seized from behind by Josh’s arm tentacles and felt his penis tentacles slip round my hips and entwine themselves on my cock and scrotum, then his thick main penis was pressing against my anus, and I heard his soft voice in my head, “Relax, Jack. I’m instructed to show you what you will be capable of enjoying when you undergo the hybridising process and become like me …” 

“Thank you, Josh. I hope I can satisfy you,” I thought-spoke my reply as his penis entered me. “Oh yes, that feels g-o-o-d …”

His chuckle tickled in my ear even though it wasn’t strictly ‘audible’. “It gets better … Let my stimulants take effect.” 

One of his penis tentacles was sliding up my torso, and I opened my mouth to accept it, feeling the spreading desire as his stimulant emission filled my anus. My cock, already rigid, hardened further, and my balls felt as if they were swelling. More of his secretion filled my mouth and my head swam as my libido surged. Rational thought shut down. My sole purpose was to provide sexual pleasure to the man hybrid holding me. 

I became aware of third rubber clad figure, and vaguely registered that it appeared to be female as she moved closer to fondle my rigid cock. Then Josh laid himself back on something, and used his hands to strap us both to it so my cock was now standing up. Whatever we were laying on lowered slowly, and now the woman straddled us, opened her rubber covered crotch zip, ran her fingers into her swollen cleft, and sank down on my rigid member … 

I moaned, part in protest, but was silenced by a flood of oral stimulant and an even larger dose in my butt. In my head I heard him say, “Let her pleasure herself, when she is ready I will cause you to ejaculate.” He chuckled. “She will have enough of your sperm to produce triplets!”

I groaned. She felt good sliding up and down on my cock, but it was nothing like the feeling a Ligaran feeding on it produced. Josh pumped more of his stimulant into me, and now used his tentacles to tease my scrotum, play with my nipples and add to the sensation of the warm, wet tube embracing my cock. Then it happened, Josh triggered my ejaculation. 

My senses swam as I drove my cock as deep as I could, feeling my hot jism flooding her. She tightened her pelvic muscles, shuddering as my sperm pumped load after load and stayed there, picking my nipples until my cock softened. She stood, quickly closed her crotch zip, bent down and snapped a triple cock ring round my shaft, my scrotum and the root of both. Then, without a word, she was gone. Josh and I rose and I felt him pumping more of his stimulant into me.

“Well done, Jack,” he thought-spoke. “You have been bred. You will have fathered at least one manlover like yourself, and possibly one who will follow us into hybridisation. Now you must feed me and the Councillors …” 

“Yes, Josh.” My head spun as the first of the Councillors positioned himself and began to feed …

I returned to the Co-Op in a daze, still oozing stim-secretion from my butt, and my scrotum still enlarged, but with my cock now a rubbery semi erect.

“What the fuck did they ..?” The Boss started, then stopped as my cock jerked erect. “Will. Quick, bring me the body restraints. We have to get him restrained before he does something we’ll all regret!”

Ten minutes later they had me fully restrained inside a very tight rubber sleep sack and Doctor Tom on his way.

“Damn, they overdosed him. Help me get him into my van, I’ll take him straight to the feeding chamber and let them bring him down.”

 In my rubber prison I dreamed of tentacles holding me, filling me, and those fabulous oral users of my cock sending it into spasms of pleasure … and curiously I ‘saw’ in the midst of it all how we could find a new agreement with the Ligarans.