Chapter One
Lady Stern
Lady Sandra Stern 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 raven black 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 of her shaven pudenda hardly covered it. 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
shapely 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 bright 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, handsome blond-haired chauffeur Max, 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 – Paul Bastien.
Bastien 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 Lady Stern 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 Sandra 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.
The Frenchman 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,” Sandra snapped at him, pointing
towards the metal cross.
Paul 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 and his harnessed penis throbbed against its restraint.
“That’s better,” exclaimed Sandra. “Are you comfortable?”
“No,” he intoned dully.
Lady Stern raised her right hand and slapped her open palm against his cock. “No, what?”
she shouted.
“No, Mistress Stern,” he mumbled.
“How dare you forget how to address me properly,” she hissed at him.
“Sorry, Mistress Stern,” he replied meekly.
“What did you say? I can’t hear you.”
“Sorry, Mistress Stern,” 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.
“Max, 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.
“And that gag,” she pointed a long black satin covered finger at a black rubber
ball-gag.
Max handed her a crop with a braided leather handle and instead of the usual loop of
leather at its tip, the crop tapered down to a very thin thread with a metal ball-bearing
at the end. A ball-gag attached to a leather strap. Then Max handed her the rubber
ball-gag attached to a leather strap.
Sandra turned again to the captive figure.
“Open your mouth,” she instructed, “we don’t want anyone hearing you scream, do we?”
Paul 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?”
Paul grunted through the ball-gag in agreement. He could neither speak nor move to any
degree and despite the fact that in the past he had always been the dominant one, 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.
“Max tells me that you tried to escape this morning. Is that correct?” she asked
angrily.
Paul 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.
Lady Stern took the crop in her right hand, raised it to the level of her shoulder and
slashed it down onto Paul’s unprotected buttocks. The leather and the metal ball 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, Sandra raised the crop again and slashed it down twice in quick succession. The
hiss of the wicked crop drew a moan of agony from him. His engorged penis and his whole
body was starting to quiver with arousal as his buttocks vibrated with the force of the
blow.
“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 from side to side violently.
“What a shame,” Sandra commented coldly, “because, you’re going to get more.”
She came around the front of the frame and raised the crop. Paul’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 Paul managed to produce muffled words that sounded like, “Thank you,
Mistress Sandra.”
“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 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,” Sandra 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, Max, I’ll be back in a few moments.”
She left the room banging the heavy door behind her.
Max stood guard, his arms akimbo as he obeyed his beloved mistress’s commands.
Paul 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 Max.
As Paul 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.
Lady Stern entered the grey room again and stood staring at Paul for several seconds.
“Untie him,” she commanded and Max jumped forward and released Paul 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 wooden door behind her.
Max loosened the ball-gag and it fell around Paul’s shoulders. Paul crawled over to her
on all fours as he had done before, and then sat back on his haunches.
Max could see three red stripes decorating his backside and felt a strong pang of
jealousy.
Paul came to rest in front of his mistress; his eyes level with her thighs.
“Take off my thong,” she ordered.
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