Chapter 24 – The Cistern
After lunch, Mal came back to the Chateau with a large hammer drill, two large steel hinges, a large steel hasp, a huge high security padlock and a bag of long bolts.
“Do you want me to have someone bring the slut up?” I asked.
“No, I need to do this myself, I don’t think she’s strong enough to handle this drill and it requires a bit of experience anyway,” he replied.
“One of these days I’m going to run an electric circuit out to the fire pit,” Mal commented as he unwound a long extension cord.
When I realized the noise in the backyard had stopped, I went back out to see what progress Mal was making but he wasn’t there. He had drilled holes through the Cement top of the Cistern and bolted two hinges and the hasp on either side of the hatch. The iron square that had been bolted over the hatch was sitting between the hinges and the hasp but not attached.
Carl skipped dinner. Maggie reported that she saw him, wearing slacks and a new shirt along with real shoes, headed out just before dinner.
“He told me not to expect him for dinner, I’m pretty sure he has a date with a certain Doctor we know.” Paula grinned.
Mal was late for dinner and had asked Paula to save him a plate. He pulled up in a welding truck just as we were doing the dishes.
“Couldn’t borrow the welder until after working hours,” he explained after pulling it around back.
“Do you know how to weld?” I asked.
“Good enough for this job,” he replied.
“Mal knows how to do everything!” Reese replied proudly.
Mal grabbed a quick dinner and then the sound of the gas generator and welding arc could be heard in the back yard until it was almost dark.
The next morning Mal had a 12-foot ladder, a five-gallon paint bucket, a rope, a flat bladed shovel, and a water hose organized out by the Cistern. Lucija had volunteered Tim to help as he wasn’t doing much but laying around if Lucija was at the University. Maggie, who was the current DIC for Monday, brought the slut up in chains. Mal was horny but he also just couldn’t resist having the slut give him a quick blow job right in front of Tim before putting her to work. The slut loved giving head, but this time she seemed to enjoy it even more. She looked up at Mal and smiled, winked, and then gave him the noisiest oral sex anyone has ever heard. The slurping and sucking sounds could be heard clearly in the kitchen. After a minute, Tim turned his back to wait. Mal thought about kidding him but decided to have mercy and sent him off to find a light of some kind.
Once Mal came and the slut cleaned him up with her lips, Mal got back to work. When Tim came back with an old table lamp, It took both Tim and Mal to pull the iron hatch open. Mal had welded the two hinges and the hasp to the top so that the hatch opened back with a loud clang, and I assumed closed with just as much noise. The size of the hinges, hasp and the huge high security lock Mal had bought was way overkill, especially since, at 10 feet high, no one in the Cistern could even reach the hatch much less push it over.
“Tim, help me put the ladder in the hatch, then tie the end of that rope to the bucket and the other end to the top of the ladder," Mal said.
“Slut, I’m going to take your transport chains and leg irons off, it will be hard enough to climb down this ladder in handcuffs. Plus, you’re not going anywhere once you get down there.”
“Thank you, sir,” the slut replied.
Heather climbed down the ladder and Mal and Tim pulled it back out of the hatch to make room. Heather was alone, naked, standing in several feet of muck in the dark and it didn’t seem to bother her one bit. She waited patiently while Mal plugged the old lamp into the extension cord and lowered it using the cord. He then put the shovel in the bucket and lowered that down.
“Here’s the task if you haven’t figured it out already. Slut, you shovel that muck into the bucket. Tim, you pull it up and dump it in the wheelbarrow. When the wheelbarrow is full, dump it over in the tree line out of sight. Should take the slut a couple of hours. Make sure you send a water bottle down any time you need a drink. You drink, she drinks, got it?”
“Yea, sure," Tim said, somewhat turned on by the prospect of watching the slut work.
“Yes sir," said a muffled voice from below.
At lunch, Carl got the third degree from the whole table about his date with Dr. Ana.
“I noticed you were home by midnight, geek boy. Couldn’t talk her into bed?” Cradic kidded.
“Hea, it was a first date, and she’s a nice lady,” Carl protested.
“So, it went well then?” Maggie asked.
“We had a nice dinner, then sat in the town square, had café, and talked. We’re going out again for sure.” Carl said. “The language was a bit of a struggle, but we managed. We had to resort to Google Translate a few times,” he laughed.
“So, what’s her story? Inquiring minds want to know!” Reese asked.
“You could ask her yourself you know," Carl replied, “but her father was a village doctor, and it was just always assumed she would be too. She found medical school harder than she expected and had to really work so she just didn’t take time for a social life. Then there was internship, residency and just last year she was assigned to the clinic here. It’s a lot like her hometown, she likes it here but, until me, she hadn’t met anyone she was interested in.”
“And god knows why she’s interested in you!” Tim said, with a smile, as Lucija bopped him in the back of the head.
“And she knows that we’re basically poly here? She’s OK with you fucking around?” Paula asked.
“We didn’t specifically talk about sex and stuff on a first date," Carl said, “but yea, it would have been hard for her not to know that I fully participate in the sex. She did ask me when I got interested in BDSM.”
“And?” Paula asked.
“And what? I told her I wasn’t really, except that we played around with it for the slut. Why do you care?”
“I think,” I jumped in, “that Paula and I, and perhaps others, picked up a certain vibe from the doctor. Especially in the way she related to the slut and to Tim.”
“Guys,” Carl said frustrated, “I’m just dating her, back off, OK?”
“With a lovesick puppy look in your eyes,” Paula mumbled, where Carl couldn’t hear her.
Before lunch Tim found Mal and let him know that the slut had shoveled all the muck out she could. Mal had been running a long hose from the house, which had pretty good water pressure, to the exit point of the drainpipe he believed ran to the cistern.
First, Mal looked down into the cistern hatch. There wasn’t a lot of light, but he could clearly see a very dirty and tired slut. She was covered from hair to toe with black dirt and she looked downright miserable. She was sitting on the dirty floor, propped up against the dirty wall. Mal couldn’t tell what had more dirt on it, the floor, or the slut.
“I told her the sooner she finished, the sooner she got out of there and cleaned up," Tim said. “I don’t think she likes it down there all that much anymore.”
“Just a few more minutes, slut,” Mal called down, “pull that light and extension cord out of there Tim, then go turn the hose on at the house.”
When Tim turned the water on, Mal directed the end of the hose into the drainpipe where it came out about twenty feet from the Cistern down a slope. He pushed the hose in and out of the pipe again and again, washing a little more dirt out each time. After he had pushed the hose in about twenty feet he heard a faint scream from the cistern, “Shit, that’s cold!”
Tim ran up to look down in the Cistern and almost got a face full of dirty water. What he saw made the sadistic side of Tim laugh an evil laugh. Heather was huddled in the corner of the Cistern trying to stay away from a fountain of dirty, cold water erupting from the drain and spraying around the entire cistern. If it was possible for her to get any filthier, she just did.
Mal worked the hose in and out the length of the pipe several times then withdrew it completely and carried the end, water still flowing, up to the hatch. Passing the flowing water hose down to the Slut he said, “I know it’s cold, but you can use this to hose off first, slut, then I want you to start at the top of the walls and wash them down. Then do the floor. Use the water to push the dirt and dirty water out the drain.”
While the slut worked rinsing the walls off, Mal sent Tim into the house for a broom. Paula came back with Tim. “What are you going to do with that broom!” she said accusingly.
“It’s getting old anyway," Mal said defensively. “I’ll buy us a new one.”
Paula looked down in the Cistern, then looked sternly at Mal and Tim, “You guys need to give her a break!
“Right after she sweeps down the ceiling and walls.” Mal said.
Paula just kept staring at him. He finally withered. “OK, OK, Tim, let’s get the ladder.”
The slut slowly climbed the ladder and collapsed on the ground. She was shivering uncontrollably. Paula continued to glare at Mal. “I’ll go get her a big towel,” he said.
“You’ll take her upstairs and put her in a hot bathtub, NOW," Paula said firmly.
“OK, I guess she can finish this after lunch," Mal said defensively.
“And make sure you give her several iPad points – she’s earned them!” Paula added.
The slut was still wearing just her handcuffs. As Mal started to help her up from the ground she looked directly at her transport chains, lying on the grass nearby. Mal realized she was dead weight, she wasn’t helping get up, then he noticed where she was looking.
“Oh, for goodness sake,” he exclaimed. “Tim, help me chain the slut.”
When Mal came back downstairs alone, Paula jumped him. “Where’s Heather?”
“She’s in the bath, like you said. I’m going to run into town and get a scrub brush, so we don’t damage your precious broom.” Mal said with a smile.
“You left her up there with Tim?” Paula replied.
“He’s not going to do anything. Remember, he’s wearing that steel cage on his dick, and I told him if he was mean to her, he could be the one that finished cleaning out the Cistern.” Mal said as he walked out of the kitchen.
Paula wasn’t so sure; in a few minutes she went up to check. But her fears were only partially justified. Tim had helped the slut wash from head to toe and had her laying back in warm water, his finger on her clit, edging her. Paula took a look at what Tim was doing and made a decision. She went back to our room and got her waterproof penis shaped vibe and took them to Tim. “You think you can make her cum?" she asked.
“Well, I’d rather use a more natural tool if you wouldn’t mind loaning me a key?” Tim asked.
“I would mind. Only Lucija can unlock you unless it’s an emergency and this isn’t an emergency. If you don’t want to play with the slut, I’ll do it, you can go downstairs.” Paula snapped.
“No, I know how to use one of those.” Tim replied quickly.
“Bring her down for lunch when you’re done.” Paula instructed.
Tim came down 30 minutes later, leading a much better-looking slut. Her hair was a mess, men just didn’t know how to brush out hair. But she was clean and had energy back. She also had a large smile.
When Lucija came in for lunch, Paula briefed her on what a good boy Timmy had been, and Lucija even patted him on the head, which Tim thought was both humiliating and strangely pleasing at the same time. Lucija was so pleased with him that she suggested he hand feed the slut her lunch from his plate.
After lunch, Mal carried the new scrub brush he bought and went down into the Cistern with the slut. Much to her surprise, he laid down on the floor with her and just relaxed. She must have looked very surprised because he explained, “Let’s let our lunch settle before resuming work.”
After about five minutes, Mal hollered up at Tim, “Go find my foam backpacking sleeping pad, please and bring it here. See if you can find Heather’s too.”
“Conversation, slut," Mal said to Heather. “I think this floor is way too cold to lay on for any length of time.”
“I would agree sir, it soaks right through you," Heather replied, “I wonder what the air temperature is down here? It was fine while I was working, until I got wet, that is, but now that we’re just laying here it feels chilly.”
When Tim got back with the two thick foam pads, they used them to lay on. “Better,” Mal decided, “but still too cold to stay down here for more than an hour or two.”
Then he really surprised the slut when he hollered up at Tim, “Tim! Pull up the ladder and close the hatch for five minutes. I want to see how dark it is down here.”
“OK," Tim replied and the hatch suddenly closed with a loud clang that echoed through the small enclosure.
“Um,” Heather said hesitantly, “It’s not my place to question, sir, but do you trust him?”
“Oh, Paula’s watching from the kitchen,” he replied. “I’m not worried.”
It was dark in the Cistern, but after a few minutes, when their eyes adjusted, Mal could see Heather’s outline due to light leaking around the hatch. Some rubber weather stripping would probably solve that.
“It’s dark all right," Mal said.
To his surprise, the slut said, in a dreamy voice, “It’s nice, sir.”
“You’re weird, slut,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied.
Tim did open the hatch after a few minutes. But even with the hatch open, it was really musty in the cistern. Not only was there a strong smell of old rotting leaves and muck but Mal didn’t feel like he could breathe.
“Hard to breathe down here," Mal said.
“Yes sir, towards the end of shoveling I thought I was going to pass out.” Heather said. “But once you put the hose through, I forgot all about breathing.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you so hard this morning,” Mal apologized, “it was dark down here and I couldn’t see just what bad shape you were in. You should have said something.”
“No sir. I wasn’t in conversation protocol sir. I would never say anything,” the slut said seriously.
“Well,” he replied, “I’m sorry, Paula was right to get mad at me.”
Mal experimented with using the hose and the scrub brush on the walls. He realized that to get the walls from the top down, the slut would need a step ladder, shorter than the 12 ft. ladder they were using to get in and out of the Cistern. He also decided they needed a nozzle on the hose, both so the slut could control the flow and to direct the stream. Mal and the slut climbed out of the Cistern and Mal declared a break from the work while he went back to the building supply store. He chained the slut’s ankle to one of the four rebar and let her lay in the sun. He sent Tim back to Lucija where he assumed his usual place in the office, sitting on the floor next to her desk.
Carl wasn’t around for dinner again. Which made him and Dr. Ana the topic of dinner conversation. And he was the topic of breakfast conversation when everyone realized that, for the first time, he hadn’t slept at the Chateau last night.
Mal showed up about 10 am with a rented gas-powered ditch digger and a 100 ft roll of 12-3 with Ground wire. He proceeded to dig a ditch from the Chateau to near the fire pit, then on down the hill where the cistern drainpipe came out.
“Decided to put power to the fire pit?” I asked when I went out to see what the noise was.
“Yea,” he replied, I’m going to do that, but I’m really doing it to run power to the drainpipe.”
“OK,” I said questioningly, “why?”
“Wait and see.” He smiled.
“While you have that ditch there, don’t you want to put water in as well?” I asked.
“Damn,” He replied, “I was so focused on power I forgot we had talked about a spigot near the fire pit.”
“No problem, I’ll go get a roll of pipe and fittings.” I said as I headed back to the home improvement store. “This is the second trip of this project,” I thought, “should be one more. It usually takes three trips per project.” While I was shopping, I also decided to get a 500ft roll of Cat 5e Network cable; might as well run that to the cistern too. If we were going to lock the slut down there it would be fun to watch.
When I returned, Mal had cut a pressure treated 4X4 into two 4ft pieces and set one near the fire pit and one near the drainpipe. He had already wired-up external outlets on each post. We put the water pipe and the Cat 5e cable in the trench and then he unchained the slut. She had been sunning herself since lunch and now it was time for her to shovel the dirt back in the ditch. He unlocked her handcuffs from her belly chain but left her in leg irons and transport chains, making shoveling dirt challenging. Before long she was dripping sweat and already had dirt clinging to the sweat.
I always loved watching a naked woman do hard labor, so I asked Mal, “Why didn’t you have the slut dig the trench?”
“It would have taken her days, even if I stood out here with a whip,” he replied. “I’m in too much of a hurry to get it done. That machine dug the ditch in an hour.”
What impressed me was that the slut had such a service mindset that she worked herself into a sweat without anyone standing over her. You had to tell her to take a break and to drink water.
When Heather finished the trench and Mal finished installing the electricity and water it was dinner time. I wasn’t sure who the DIC was today, so I took the slut back to her cell to let her clean up. I came back to the kitchen to let Paula know someone should take her dinner. Paula was wearing her usual loose sundress, and I was horny from watching the slut work. When she asked me if I could start the charcoal in the grill to cook the hamburgers I said, “Cost ya!”
Paula knew I would do my part to help prepare dinner without requiring payment, but she played along.
“But sir, I’m cutting vegetables for salad, I don’t have time to pay you now?” She said while batting her eyelashes at me.
“Oh,” I said, “I think we can manage both.”
I took the cutting board off the counter and put it on the seat of a kitchen chair, moved the vegetables to the cutting board and bent Paula over with her elbows on either side of the cutting board.
“Don’t let me interrupt dinner preparations," I said as I raised her sundress to her waist. Paula and I had stopped using condoms some weeks ago, but I was catching her without foreplay, so some lube was needed. I grabbed the bottle of olive oil, unzipped, and pulled it out, dribbled a generous amount of olive oil down her ass crack and onto my already engorged penis.
“If you get any of that on the floor, you’re cleaning it up,” she said with mock outrage.
In response I thrust into her cunt in one smooth motion, holding her hips as I did so.
“Don’t let me make dinner late, keep chopping salad,” I said as I very slowly loved in and out, in and out of her cunt.
Paula started trying to chop peppers. She propped herself up on her left elbow, held the pepper with that hand and cut with her right hand. But cutting vegetables while bent at the waist is hard. Doing it while your cunt is being slowly fucked is even harder.
Paula’s breathing rate increased, and her vegetable cutting decreased.
“I thought you were making a salad,” I reminded her.
“Fuck the salad,” she said.
“I’d rather fuck you,” I replied.
“Feels like you are, and a fine job you’re doing at that,” she moaned.
Slowly, steadily, I increased the pace. The knife fell on the floor.
Faster and faster. The pepper fell on the floor. Faster and harder, the cutting board was pushed onto the floor.
I’ve said before, Paula growls when she’s getting close. At the moment she was sounding like a rottweiler in pursuit of a rabbit, alternately panting, saying “fuck yes” over and over and growling between.
I came first but she followed before I got sensitive or too soft to keep pumping. Paula collapsed onto the chair seat with me on top of her.
“Oh shit,” she said suddenly, “where’s the knife?”
“Don’t worry, it’s on the floor,” I laughed.
“God you two, is that our dinner you’re copulating over?” Maggie said as she came into the kitchen. “I’m not eating that.”
“Eat what?” Reese, who came into the kitchen right behind Maggie, said. “Ohh, an appetizer,” and Reese dropped to her knees in front of me as I was getting off Paula. “I love little weenies.”
“Hea, I resemble that remark.” I joked as she took me in her mouth and started sucking cum and Paula’s juices off my penis.
“Well, I guess I have to finish dinner," Maggie said in mock disgust as she started picking up the cutting board, knife, and vegetables.
At dinner I asked Mal, “So, I’m glad to have power in the back but what’s up with running it to the drainpipe? Are you putting in a pump?”
“Not a pump,” Mal said. “I spent some time down in the cistern today and I discovered two things. One, it’s too cold to spend extended time down there, naked, without getting hyperthermia. Second, there is very little air flow. CO2 builds up after a few hours. I’m going to try and fix both problems.”
“Through the drainpipe?” I asked with disbelief.
“Well, it’s that or make major changes, digging or tunneling and frankly, I don’t think that project is worth that much work,” he replied.
“Here’s what I’m going to try,” Mal explained. “I’m going to attach a T to the end of the drainpipe with the T facing up. On the horizontal end I’m going to attach a P trap that will fill with water to stop air but will let the water, once the trap fills, drain on out. On the vertical part of the T, I’m going to attach an electric duct heater, a round fan with heating element that will blow warm air back through the drainpipe. I’m hoping this will not only circulate enough air into the cistern but warm air as well. But I figure it has about a 50 / 50 chance of working correctly. I may have to build a little shed to keep it all waterproof too.”
“What about food and water for the ‘residents’,” I asked.
“I hadn’t thought about that.” Mal replied, “I guess we just throw water bottles and food down?”
“I’ve been reading up on some of the famous Oubliette’s in castles around Europe and I have an idea,” I said. “In many of the underground dungeons, ground water seeped in though the cracks in the rock walls. Prisoners had to literally lick or suck the water off the walls.”
“Yuck, that’s pretty dirty.” Mal exclaimed.
“The whole experience is supposed to be unpleasant.” I laughed, “And anyway, experts say that kids need to eat a certain amount of dirt as kids to build immunities. Scrub the walls down with a disinfectant if you’re worried about mold or slime but a little dirt won’t hurt.”
“But I’ve never seen water intrusion on the walls anyway, there just isn’t that much ground water around the cistern.” Mal explained.
“No, but I’m sure you can pipe a slow drip of water down one of the walls.” I said with a wink.
Right after breakfast the next morning, I went out to help Mal and we knocked out his idea in a few hours. The only hard part was connecting the newer PVC pipe to the old terracotta drainpipe, but Mal had an adapter for that. The vent heater and fan were amazingly quiet, having been designed to put inline in-home heating ducts to supplement a furnace.
The slut had spent the morning on her hands and knees cleaning both of the upstairs bathrooms. Paula inspected her work shortly before lunch, gave her two demerits for soap scum around a faucet handle and missing the underside of a toilet seat. She also made her clean them correctly, in the case of the toilet seat, with her tongue. After lunch Reese, who was DIC for the day, was planning to let the slut work at her sewing station but Mal asked if she could spend a few hours with him in the cistern.
“Why are you going down there again?” Reese asked.
“To check the temperature and air flow,” Mal explained.
“Then why do you need the slut?” she asked.
“Duh, because it’s boring down there,” he replied. Reese just rolled her eyes.
Mal had found an old wall thermometer at a junk shop. He stripped off his clothes, and unlocked the slut’s handcuffs from her belly chain so she could climb down the ladder. He made sure the two camping mats were still in the cistern then climbed down after the slut carrying the thermometer and his iPhone.
“Pull the ladder up and close the hatch please?” He asked Reese and me. “Oh, and if you could go get that old canvas tarp out of the basement in about an hour, I want to see how dark it is down here with that over the hatch. Leave us till dinner unless I call you.”
The steel hatch is really heavy. I could have closed it, but it was certainly easier with two people. Without talking about it, Reese and I had the same idea, she counted to three and we dropped the hatch the last foot. It slammed down with a deafening clang. I can’t imagine how much louder it was in the cistern.
Mal recorded that it was 85 degrees Fahrenheit (30 Celsius) in the yard when they went down. He later said that when they first got into the cistern it was 68 f or 20 c but that over the next hour it warmed up to 77 f or 25 c and stayed there. The walls and floor were still cold and would sap the heat out of the body if not for the foam pads. But overall, the environment was tolerable for a naked body.
After about 20 minutes, both Mal and Heather’s eyes adjusted to the sliver of afternoon sunlight leaking around the hatch. They could make out each other’s faces if they concentrated. But Mal said that when I threw the old, heavy tarp over the hatch, they couldn’t see the proverbial hand in front of their face.
Mal reached out where he remembered the slut was and pulled her by her chains over to him. Heather had been a slut long enough that she didn’t have to guess what he wanted.
Mal had the slut go very slowly. He made her stop several times so he could turn on his phone light and check the temperature. He had her spend long minutes sucking his balls, other long periods just licking his shaft. Finally, he indicated she could make him cum, which she did in about five minutes of concerted sucking and deep throating him.
Much to the slut’s delight, Mal laid her on her back and started eating her out. He went painfully slow, kissing her thighs and licking her labia from bottom to top, barely brushing her clit. He inserted his tongue as far into her cunt as he could and licked out and up. He went VERY slowly. The slut desperately wanted him to put his fingers in her but was too well trained to beg without being given permission. Besides, she was almost never allowed to orgasm, and she doubted this day would be any different.
Mal entertained himself by edging Heather for about an hour before I removed the tarp from over the hatch, lifted the hatch a few inches and hollered down, “Done with your experiments or do you need more time?”
“No,” he shouted back, “You can get the ladder now.”
Opening the hatch by myself was a strain. I don’t know how much that steel square weighed, but it was a good workout pushing it over on its hinges.
“Still 25C down there, and we didn’t feel any effects of oxygen deprivation, so I think I’ll declare my fan heater a success.” Mal said with satisfaction. “Where’s Reese, she needs to decide what to do with the slut. Oh, and if you have your phone handy, give her a few iPad points for me, she was a very good girl down there,” he grinned.