***All sexually active characters depicted are of age, 18 years old at least, and, all sexual activities portrayed are consensual. Enjoy!***
At the Cummings' castle, down in the dungeon, Domhnall and Gracie have attached to the cross-shaped rack a middle-aged gentleman, and, in the stocks, with her head and wrists clamped in the holes, a blindfolded young woman in her mid-twenties.
Tapping a cane to the palm of her hand, behind the woman in the stocks, Gracie proposes of the gentleman, "Surely, your takings could be much lower?"
The gentleman responds, "Sixteen percent."
Gracie decides, "You can do better," and slices the backs of the woman's legs, breaking the skin where the bamboo struck, causing the blood to rush to the wounds.
The gentleman stubbornly says, "Sixteen percent."
Gracie responds to him, "I make you this offer: you say sixteen percent, so, I will strike her sixteen times, then, I will ask you to revise your offer, and, I will strike her the number of times you say each time. I think that sounds fair." Gracie then slaps the cane across the legs, slightly higher than before, and again, slightly higher, and again, slightly higher, and again, across the lower buttocks, and again, slightly higher, and again, and again, each time leaving bright red marks on the young woman, who cries sorely at being treated so harshly.
The young woman's thighs tremble and her legs quake as she whimpers waveringly. She desperately attempts to control her breathing between each strike, but is interrupted by the shocking strikes slapping against her skin, feeling as if they cut through her entirely each time.
After the sixteenth strike, Gracie awaits the gentleman's revised offer, and he says, "Twelve-and-a-half percent."
Gracie cackles at the offer, commenting, "Twelve-and-a-half? How do I even give half a strike? No is my answer. You can do much better than that. As for my promise, she gets another sixteen for your cheek at such a proposal," striking the woman's buttocks, counting, "1," making her bleed, "2, 3, 4, 5," making her bleed even more, "6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16."
The young woman is crying hard, unable to see, and completely at Gracie's mercy, not that she has been merciful, leaving her so red, sore, and bloodied that she won't sit comfortably for over a week. She sobs quietly, trying to be brave, or not to anger her tormentor to risk more violent behaviour.
The gentleman can't even look at his date any more, and Domhnall holds his head so he has to look at her, slapping his face hard, and the gentleman says, "Fine... Five percent, but I can't go any lower."
Gracie replies, "No, you stand to make a substantial return on your investment for a two-and-a-half percent stake. Greed doesn't look sexy on you, but, since you like greed, and, sixteen is your favourite number, you know what that means," and just before she begins her new round of strikes, she asks, "Is she sixteen? Do you like them that young?"
The woman cries out, "I'm 23!"
Gracie rhetorically asks of the gentleman, "You didn't know that, did you?," and she struts up to him, making him whimper as she nears, standing beside the rack, running the length of the cane across his bare nipples. He sounds like a scolded dog as Domhnall grips his throat so he has to watch what Gracie does. She tells him, "I feel sorry for her having to date a piece of shit like you. So, you get these," raising the cane, and slapping his nipples with a downward stroke so hard that he thinks his nipples have been sheered off, as Gracie continues in kind, counting, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16."
The gentleman sobs, "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-owwww... four percent, please?"
Gracie pitifully mutters, "Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You make such a fool of yourself, and you cry like a wounded dog, and you have the audacity to ask for four percent? I will make you a deal. You take the next round with my cane, and, you can have four percent."
The gentleman interrupts Gracie to beg, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, please, thank you, please... ow-ohh..."
Gracie continues to say, "If you can't handle it, then you accept our proposal of two-and-a-half percent."
Immediately, the gentleman inhales deeply, and grimaces ready to receive the next round of punishment from Gracie. She is not impressed by his eagerness, so she lifts the cane away from him, and whips it straight across his cock, instantly leaving a red line across it, and she strikes again, scraping more skin away, and slaps the cane across his cock continually, counting, "...4, 5, 6..."
The gentleman screams, "No! No-no-no-no, please. I accept your terms. Just stop."
Gracie stays her striking hand, and strokes her free hand around the gentleman's face, cooing playfully, "I was under the impression that we were going to have fun. We barely began to enjoy you," turning to walk away.
Domhnall slaps the gentleman's nipples, making him wince from the soreness, and he walks away with Gracie, as she replaces the cane on the trolley, both heading for the door, prompting the gentleman to ask, "Whoa, whoa, wh-where are you going?"
Gracie simply answers, "Back upstairs."
The gentleman hastily begs, "P-p-p-please, let us go. You got what you wanted."
Domhnall says, "You don't get to make demands in here. Take some time to learn some manners, and, we will talk later."
The young woman hears the clicking of the latch as the door is pulled open, and she flinches, sobbing, "Please, I'm not a part of his business. I'm not even his wife or anything. We haven't been going out that long. Don't leave me here. I just want to go home. It hurts."
Gracie says to the young woman, "You can take this time to reconsider your life choices," and leaves with her husband to return upstairs to the party.
Heading out into the inner courtyard, Domhnall and Gracie spot Tiffany and Craig talking with a very well-groomed and very handsome man they recognise as famous racing driver and car manufacturer, Vittore Tremonti, and hear him say as they approach, "...growing up, I used to have Troubadour cars up on my bedroom wall; the styling, and the promises of luxurious comfort coupled with blistering speeds made them very appealing and so exciting. In particular, the Troubadour VP series were the ones that inspired me the most. The styling on that first VP model is still the best to this day, and constantly inspires the looks of my cars.
"The racing scene grew tiresome for me. It was challenging at first, but I kept pushing every day to improve, and, soon mastered many circuits and won many championships. This was not going to fulfil me, but, I found my passions were really in the engineering, making cars the best they can be to suit each track. What are the commonalities? What needs adapting for each circuit? Do I favour high speeds, or precise turning? These questions drove me to starting Tremonti Motors, and quickly gained attention for the work I had my teams put into each car.
"My first flagship model, the Bellezza, was inspired directly by the first generation Troubadour VP. Could I make a modern homage to it's styling, while making it uniquely distinct and recognisable as my own, and still have all the performance I want? These were big questions, but these cars, sadly, aren't the fastest on the track, and I made that concession early on to make a beautiful grand tourer that would look stunning on the beautiful alpine roads, and feel great to drive on those roads.
"My quest for performance on the track led to the birth of the Meraviglia, which built on my learnings from the Bellezza, and takes them to new heights to favour quick acceleration, reasonable high-end speeds, and the sharpest of turning circles, to dart and carve through any race track with ease. Here, is my masterpiece."
