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cages opposite, some looking horrified, some astonished, and some strangely aroused, but all mortifying her, naked and mishandled by such a grotesque knave. Then to her utter dismay, the loathsome dwarf pulled her buttocks apart.
    ‘What a sweet little hole!’ he exclaimed. ‘After I have chastised you, my lady, we must test this particular tunnel for tightness.’
    He let go of her bottom, and Eleanor could hardly breathe as she wondered what was coming next. The dwarf grabbed a bar of the cage door, which creaked chillingly as he pulled it open, Lady Eleanor swinging with it. Chuckling throatily, he shuffled out into the passageway and swung the door, and Eleanor, back closed again, then stepped back, the better to peruse her, Eleanor finding his lecherous gaze quite unbearable. Lowering her eyes she waited, her heart beating furiously.
    ‘What exotic fruit are these?’ the dwarf tormented, taking the whip from his belt. ‘I have seen but few larger and none so firm and shapely. My lady, your nipples are the colour of ripe cherries and of similar size. You will permit me to chew on such sweetness?’
    ‘Please…’ was all Eleanor managed, and then a little whimper, for the dwarf stepped forward, leering, the whip still in hand. By accident or cunning design, the position he’d tied her in meant that her breasts, which protruded some way through the iron grillwork, were at the same level as his ugly head. Very slowly, tormenting his victim, he pinched a succulent nipple between his few rotting teeth and proceeded to nip and chew and slobber, whilst maintaining eye contact with her the whole time.
    ‘Oh please, sir, have mercy,’ she pleaded pitifully. ‘Please, sir…’
    The dwarf let go and grinned up at her. ‘By God, that was a tasty titbit!’ he guffawed. ‘Let us essay if the other is as sweet.’
    Lady Eleanor’s respite was thus all too fleeting. Dagonard sucked her right nipple into his wet mouth and proceeded to worry that too, but this time Eleanor’s squeals were not only from this, but also because he had slipped a calloused hand between her parted thighs. Strong fingers mauled her most private places, making her moan distractedly between the cries that marked particularly vicious oral nips.
    ‘I trust you will take care to preserve her maidenhead?’ a male voice demanded, instantly making the dwarf release Eleanor and shuffle back.
    ‘Of course, sire,’ he said warily. ‘Does not your faithful servant always preserve that bloom for the peerless Sir Peris?’
    The master of the castle stepped out of the shadows. He was a big man, Eleanor saw, handsome with dark hair, flecked with grey around the temples. His features were well proportioned though there was a cruel cast to his mouth and his eyes reminded her of those of peregrine falcon, fixed upon a dove.
    ‘You do, but then I usually let you have first tilt at the rose hole, so don’t sound so aggrieved.’
    The dwarf sniggered crudely and held his hands up in admission of defeat.
    ‘Presumably the Lady Eleanor is in such straights for some particular reason?’ Sir Peris asked, as his eyes crawled over her naked body.
    ‘Yes, sire, I was about to whip her.’
    ‘Whip her?’ the man said with mock surprise. ‘Whip this gentle maiden? For what cause, basest of knaves?’
    Hope entered Eleanor’s heart unbidden. Perhaps what the other girl had told her had been falsehoods. Could Sir Peris be a noble night, despite his cruel servant’s savagery?
    ‘She refused to disrobe for me when I ordered, sire.’
    Sir Peris walked over to Lady Eleanor, and stopping just in front of her he took her chin in his hand and raised it until she looked into his dark eyes. His face was a mask, neither kind nor cruel as she studied it, her eyes beseeching pity.
    ‘Well, we cannot have disobedience.’ The mask disappeared as his face took on a cruel smile. ‘In that case, good dwarf, you must whip her till she begs for mercy.’
    Dagonard proved only