Countess Vicki Devereaux entered the small square room. The stone floor and walls were
grey in colour. There was no furniture, instead in the centre of the room, stood a large
metal cross, painted black, a number of chains, black leather straps and cuffs hung from
it.
     She was tall and slender, with amazing breasts. Her flaming red hair was arranged in
a long fishtail plait and fell almost to her narrow waist. She was wearing a black satin
basque with long red suspenders clipped into sheer, shiny black stockings and a red satin
thong. The tiny triangle in front hardly covered her shaven pudenda; it was no more than a
thin strip of material that cut deeply into the cleft of her bottom. Her black patent
leather, seven-inch stiletto heeled ballet boots firmed the muscles of her long well
shaped legs and tightened the curves of her pert rounded buttocks. Her arms were sheathed
in a pair of skin-tight black satin gloves that reached all the way up to her armpits. She
wore a black satin mask across the top half of her beautiful face and her deep green eyes
shone cruelly through the slits.
     The bra of the Basque was no more than two crescents-shaped cups of shiny material,
which lifted but did not hide her magnificent breasts. They were quite large for her
slender body and round with circular dark aureole and cherry-sized nipples. Her nipples
stood out prominently and invitingly as she stood near the cross, legs slightly apart and
hands on her hips waiting.
     Her tall raven-haired chauffeur Daniel, almost naked except for a small black
leather loincloth and a black full facial mask, followed closely behind. He was leading on
a chain the new recruit from France – Pierre Montagne. 
     Pierre was naked apart from a thick, studded black leather collar around his
muscular neck and a narrow black leather harness around his cock and balls. He was
crawling on all fours as he moved towards Vicki and he’d clearly remembered his
instructions. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to her left boot, kissing and licking
the black patent leather. Gradually he made his way around the back of the boot and Vicki
opened her legs more, enabling him to put his head between them to lick the inner
surfaces. She pressed her calves together, trapped his head and then relaxed the pressure
so he could transfer his attention to the right foot, repeating the process.
     ‘Now the heels,’ she demanded sternly.
     Pierre rolled over onto his back. He had a strong, athletic body with a broad
hairless chest, flat belly and muscular arms and legs. His penis was already erect and the
area around it was shaven. His hard cock was strapped into a small black leather harness
that lifted and separated his heavy balls.
     ‘All right, now get to your feet and come over here,’ Vicki snapped at him, pointing
towards the metal cross. 
     Pierre scrambled to his feet quickly. His circumcised erection bobbing up and down
in front of him so violently it slapped against his firm belly as he approached her. 
     She pulled his right hand up to one corner of the large metal cross and strapped it
into one of the leather cuffs that hung from the chains. His left hand and ankles were
treated in the same rough manner, until he was spread-eagled across the frame. His tanned
muscular body, taut and strained, his harnessed penis throbbed against its restraint.
     ‘That’s better,’ exclaimed Vicki. ‘Are you comfortable?’ 
     ‘No,’ he intoned dully.
     Vicki raised her right hand and slapped her open palm against his cock. ‘No, what?’
she shouted.
     ‘No, Mistress Vicki,’ he mumbled.
     ‘How dare you forget how to address me properly,’ she hissed at him.
     ‘Sorry, Mistress Vicki,’ he replied humbly.
     ‘What did you say?  I can’t hear you.’ 
     ‘Sorry, Mistress Vicki,’ he said louder this time.
     ‘I should think so. You will be sorry, I assure you of that,’ she commented harshly
as she turned her back on him.
     ‘Daniel, hand me the black riding crop.’ She pointed to a row of metal coat hooks on
one wall, where there was an array of whips, crops, and cuffs and gags hanging on them.
     ‘And that gag,’ she pointed a long black satin covered finger at a black rubber
ball-gag.
     Daniel handed her a crop with a braided leather handle and a ball-gag attached to a
leather strap.
     Vicki turned again to the captive figure.
     ‘Open your mouth,’ she instructed, ‘we don’t want anyone hearing you scream do we?’

     Pierre opened his mouth and she forced the ball-gag into it, buckling the leather
strap so tightly around his head that it forced his lips apart widely. She prodded his
distended cheeks painfully with her gloved fingers.
     ‘That’s better,’ she said sadistically as she tapped the riding crop against her
thighs several times with impatience. Then she walked around behind the frame, carefully
examining his helplessly bound body, running her satin-gloved hand slowly down over his
back and firm bare buttocks as she appraised him.
     ‘Do you agree you need to be punished?’ 
     Pierre grunted through the ball-gag in agreement. He could neither speak nor move to
any degree and despite the fact that he was essentially a Dominant; his enjoyment at being
the submissive was far beyond his expectations. He longed to be able to make use of his
hard and fiercely erect cock, to slide it into his mistress’s pussy, to explore her warm,
moist hole and to know whether it was well lubricated and how tight it was. He longed to
be able to do such things, but the chains; harness and gag told him he could not. She was
in total control of his body; she would decide what was to become of him and what he could
do.
     ‘Daniel tells me that you tried to escape this morning.  Is that correct?’ she asked
angrily.
     Pierre nodded again submissively.
     ‘Then I think you need to be punished.  I think it’s time we began, don’t you?’ 
     Again he nodded his head. 
     Vicki took the crop in her right hand, raised it to the level of her shoulder and
slashed it down onto Pierre’s unprotected buttocks. The leather bit into his flesh and his
whole body shuddered as he cried out, as red-hot pain slashed through his body; the sound
effectively muffled by the gag. But almost before the first cry had died out, Vicki raised
the crop again and slashed it down twice in quick succession. The kiss of the wicked crop
drew a moan of agony.
     ‘Three nice red welts,’ she said as she wrapped her arms around his chest and
pressed her body against his backside. He groaned, a noise that was a mixture of agony and
ecstasy.
     In her black high-heeled boots, she was as tall as he was and she put her lips to
his ear, then pushed her tongue right inside. He shuddered.
     ‘Do you want more?’ she whispered harshly.
     He shook his head violently.
     ‘What a shame,’ Vicki commented coldly, ‘because, you’re going to get more.’ 
     She came around the front of the frame and raised the crop. Pierre’s eyes widened as
he continued to shake his head. She sliced the crop down on the top of his thighs;
narrowly missing his stiff member, then aimed a second blower, slightly lower.
     ‘That’s enough for the moment. What do you say?’ 	Through the gag Pierre managed to
produce muffled words that sounded like, ‘Thank you, Mistress Vicki.’ 
     ‘Good boy.’  She walked round him and patted his backside, and then flicked it with
her gloved fingers, before facing him again.
She reached forward and circled his rock hard organ with her gloved hand and squeezed it
until she made him scream with pain. A creamy drop of liquid had formed at the tip of its
helmet and it dripped to the floor. Then gripping it less firmly, she stroked his shaft up
and down; his whole body became tense, as he feared an eruption.
     ‘Not yet, you don’t,’ Vicki said, letting it go. ‘It’ll be a long time before you’re
allowed any pleasure, a very long time.  You have to learn to contain yourself, in fact I
might not even bother with you at all,’ she laughed sadistically as she turned her back on
him and walked away. 
     ‘Keep an eye on him, Daniel, I’ll be back in a few moments.’ 
     She left the room banging the door behind her.
     Daniel stood guard, his arms akimbo as he obeyed his beloved mistress’s commands.
     Pierre in his bondage was unable to do anything but struggle against his chains,
which he did quite violently at first. Then, realising he was getting nowhere; he resorted
to pumping his hips as if trying to fuck the air as a gesture of defiance towards Daniel.

     As Pierre gazed around the room he noticed a white rope that had been threaded
through a pulley and tied to a cleat on the wall in front of him. He wondered if she was
going to hang him from it.
     Vicki Devereaux entered the grey room again and stood staring at Pierre.
     ‘Untie him,’ she commanded and Daniel jumped forward and released Pierre from the
great cross. 
     ‘Take out the ball-gag then over here, both of you… at once,’ she snapped at them,
her tone unyielding as she shut the heavy wooden door behind her.
Pierre crawled over to her on all fours as he had done before, and then sat back on his
haunches. 
     Daniel could see three red stripes decorating his backside and felt a strong pang of
jealousy. 
     Pierre came to rest in front of his mistress; his eyes level with her thighs. 
     ‘Take off my thong,’ she ordered.
     ‘Yes, Mistress Vicki,’ he said submissively and raised his hands. 
     ‘No you fool,’ she exclaimed angrily, slapping them down, ‘use your mouth.’ 
     She reached behind his head and undid the strap of the gag, letting it fall to the
floor. 
     Pierre leaned back on his heels, raised himself slightly and awkwardly tried to
grasp the tight slippery red material between his lips. 
     It was obviously impossible, so he ran his tongue along the side of the thong and
pulled it out slightly so he could grasp more with his teeth. Then he began to tug it
down. He managed to get the waistband over her thighs, but the crutch was so deeply buried
in her sex-lips that he could not free it, however hard he pulled.
     ‘You are completely useless, she sneered and stepped way from him, pulling the scrap
of red material down and allowing it to fall to the ground. ‘Pick it up,’ she demanded in
a harsh voice as she stepped out of it.
     Pierre noticed that her mons Veneris was completely shaven and revealed an inch or
so of rather plump labia nestling between her legs. He knew better than to try and use his
hands again and picked up the red satin thong with his teeth. 
     She bent over and stuffed it in his mouth.
     ‘Now get back on the frame,’ she instructed. 
     Pierre did as he was ordered.
     She tied him spread-eagled for a second time and adjusted the chains and the straps
that held the cuffs until his body was stretched taut once again. For a second or two she
stood looking at him as if admiring her handiwork. 
He lay back staring at her long legs in the sheer black stockings, the black Lycra welts
pulled into peaks on her creamy thighs. How he longed to touch her. His thick penis
throbbed with anticipation.
     ‘My turn now,’ she laughed cruelly. ‘Daniel, lower the cross.’ 
Daniel stepped forward; touched a handle under the frame and it swivelled round and
lowered hydraulically until it was lying horizontal and level with her knees.
     She plucked her thong from Pierre’s mouth and threw it to one side, then swung a
thigh across his head so her plump shaven sex-lips were poised over his mouth and she was
facing his feet. Slowly she lowered herself down onto him, until her smooth bulging labia
were an inch away from his lips.
     ‘Right, do your duty, as you have been taught to do,’ she snapped at him.
     He raised his head and pressed his tongue into her moist slit. He moved it all the
way up and all the way back several times, then concentrated on her clitoris, the tip of
his tongue flicked from side to side. Vicki moaned loudly and clutched both her breasts in
her hands, her fingers tweaking her nipples, and then she pressed her sex against his
mouth, rolling her hips. His mouth almost disappeared underneath her, but his tongue was
still working on her clit. After a few minutes she lifted herself off him altogether and
ran her hand down over her stomach to her vagina, thrusting two fingers into it. Pierre’s
face glistened with her juices running over it under the harsh light, trained on his
restrained muscular body.
     She moaned again as she buried her fingers deep into her own body, her full breasts
quivering. Then she withdrew them and lowered herself, once more grinding down on his
mouth. In seconds she was coming. She pinched her nipples between the finger and thumb of
both hands and lifted her breasts straining the creamy flesh up and out of the support of
her basque. Vicki groaned even louder, partly in pain and partly with pleasure. Pierre’s
tongue worked ceaselessly on the pink hood of her clit, she shuddered as a great spasm
overtook her body, threw her head back, opened her mouth and let out a long, low scream.
     Daniel’s loincloth meantime bulged ominously as he watched his mistress‘s
performance, but he knew better than to touch himself in front of her. His time would come
later, perhaps with the beautiful new blonde English secretary his mistress had just
engaged - if he served her properly.
     Vicki lifted herself off her new recruit, picked up her red thong, wiped his face
with it and stuffed it back into his mouth. She then straddled him again and sat on his
chest, and walked her body forward until her love tunnel was directly over his erection.
In this position, with legs spread apart, Pierre could see every detail, from the
perfectly round and puckered circle of her anus to the long open crack of her sex. Her
outer labia were quite thick and rubbery while the inner lips, pursed around the entrance
to her vagina, were thin and delicate. He thought he could even see her love-bud, a little
pink button just under the fourchette, it looked swollen and engorged. His penis was still
fully erect and throbbing, he would’ve liked to have thrust it inside of her and reached
his pinnacle as he satisfied her. 
     She grabbed Pierre’s cock in her hand and guided it into her labia. Using it like a
dildo she brushed the top of his glans back and forth across her clitoris, making herself
cry out with ecstasy. She teased herself for a few minutes, then pushed his cock into the
entrance of her body and held it there.
     ‘You are not allowed to come. If you come without my permission you will not be
allowed to come again for a whole week. Do you understand?’ 
     ‘Yes, Mistress,’ he mumbled, his voice muffled by her thong, but his rod was already
jerking between her fingers.
     ‘Good,’ she murmured.
     She dropped her full weight on him, forcing his cock into the depths of her and let
out a loud gasp, then ground herself down on him, wriggling her hips from side to side.
Then she began to ride him. There was no question of finesse about her actions; she rode
him like a wild horse, pulling herself almost off him then slamming herself back down
again, each penetration making her cry out with pleasure. The cock strap at its base cut
deeply into his tumescent flesh, but he didn’t cry out, he didn’t dare for fear of
repercussions.
     She slowed her rhythm, almost stopping and drew herself up off him until most of his
mauve helmet was visible, then dropped down on him so he was buried completely in her. But
this time she did not lift herself again. Instead she screwed herself down, spreading her
legs further apart as if wanting to gain an extra inch of penetration, her sex-lips
crushed between their bodies. Then she let out a piercing scream and her whole body
spasmed.
When she had recovered her composure, she lifted herself off him. Pierre’s wet cock
slipped out of her body and slapped against his belly as she got to her feet.
     ‘Perhaps I should leave you here to cool of,’ she said and reached forward and
plucked her minuscule panties from his mouth.   
     ‘No, please Mistress,’ he sobbed.
     ‘What do you want then?’ 
     Pierre did not reply. He strained his body towards her and bucked his hips.
     She looked down at him and smiled sadistically. One of her stockings had wrinkled at
the knee and she put her foot up on the frame near his head and stooped to straighten it,
using both her hands to smooth the nylon from ankle to thigh. She undid one of the
suspenders then clipped it back into the darker welt of the stocking so that it was
perfectly in place. Pierre’s eyes followed every movement, his cock twitching in its
harness at the thought of putting it in her wet love tunnel again.
     Without a word she turned and walked over to a small cupboard and came back seconds
later with a strange looking device. It consisted of a cylindrical dildo flat on one side
and crudely moulded to resemble a male penis, except that at the top and bottom leather
straps projected from each side.
     ‘No…’he screamed when he saw it.
     ‘No?  Would you rather I left you here like this?’ She pointed at his erect penis.
     ‘No, Mistress, I’m sorry,’ he said humbly.
     ‘You don’t have any choice in the matter,’ she said testily.
     She knelt on the wooden frame, pulled his cock into a vertical position and placed
the cylinder against it. Then she wound the lower strap around his already tightly bound
shaft and buckled it into position. 
The upper strap fitted just under the ridge at the base of its helmet. She stood up.
     ‘Don’t you think it is good of me to give you this privilege?  What do you say?’ 
     ‘Thank you, Mistress Vicki,’ he said, very afraid to show any petulance for fear of
even worse treatment.
     Vicki straddled his chest again giving him another view of her puckered anus. She
fiddled with the base of the dildo and it began to hum. His cock twitched wildly,
springing up from his belly before bouncing back again.
     ‘I give you permission to come,’ she said and wriggled herself back towards his
face, then pinched both of his nipples with her gloved fingers and pulled them up
painfully.
     Pierre groaned out loudly. His rigid member jerked up off his belly again three or
four times and a jet of creamy come shot from its tip, arcing over his body and spattering
over her jutting breasts.
     ‘Good boy,’ she said as if she was talking to a small child.
     She lifted herself off Pierre’s prostrate body and walked over to the door.
     ‘Take him back to his quarters, Daniel and make sure he cleans himself up properly
and don’t forget to pick up the new secretary from the airport,’ she said with a
dismissive gesture as she slammed the great wooden door behind her.