"I'm very disappointed in you brigadier... very disappointed."
Lady Sally was back at Rudston Hall, 'entertaining' one of her submissive gentlemen, who was secured onto a whipping bench in one of the rooms dedicated to domination and punishment.
Indeed, most of the rooms of the house were put aside for that purpose, rendering it a playground for the expression of Lady Sally's dominatrix persona. Except the kitchen. Cook had stood firmly to her ground, insisting none of her mistress's strange goings-on take place in her domain. "It's disgusting, milady," she said. "Quite unhygienic. I can't have those bodily fluids around where I'm mixing cakes!"
Lady Sally circled the whipping bench menacingly, the brigadier following the sound of her heels clicking on the parquet flooring until they came to rest in front of him. The scarlet silk of her corset brushed against the hairs of his handlebar moustache. The firm, white flesh between the straps of her black suspender-belt were before his eyes, allowing him to stare down at her elegant legs in their black stockings. The smell of her, musky and sensual, was intoxicating. As he glanced up from his restrained position, he noted the wooden paddle cradled in her silk-gloved hand.
"I'm sorry, mistress. I'm disappointed myself. I should have loved to join your adventure, but I've been called back to my regiment."
"Huh," Lady Sally sniffed. "All that pointless marching and parading. You should send your soldiers to me. I'd soon instil some discipline in them!"
"I don't doubt that, mistress."
Brigadier Trumpington was left helplessly exposed. The regimental uniform of the Rutshire Hussars was left draped over a velvet chair, and he was now naked, kneeling on the bench, his ankles and wrists shackled to its wooden frame with handcuffs, his arse sticking up invitingly into the air.
It was too tempting a target for Lady Sally to ignore. She lifted her arm and whacked the paddle against the brigadier's backside. There was a thud, then a yelp of pain. His flabby arse wobbled like the jellies cook created with the hundreds of brass moulds in her kitchen.
She fixed her gaze on him, peering through a black mask which highlighted her penetrating eyes lined by dark kohl.
"It's your loss brigadier. This will be an adventure like no other; I'm so looking forward to it. I shall be a
Mistress of the Air
, floating in the clouds whilst administering cruel punishments to a select group of helpless slaves. And I have all manner of new dastardly devices to experiment with. There will be clockwork and steam-powered implements of torment. My workshop has been working over-time to get them ready. And you will forgo all the excitement..."
"I'm so disappointed, mistress. I know what a privilege it is to be invited, and I should love to be joining you."
"Well, it's a poor show, brigadier, that's all I have to say. I am of the opinion you should prioritise service to your mistress over these military shenanigans. What have you to say to that?"
"I'm truly sorry, mistress, but if I don't return to the regiment this weekend, I'll be court-martialled."
"It would be a small price to pay for displeasing me. You would just have to tell them you simply had to serve your mistress, and she insisted on taking you on an adventure." Lady Sally hesitated, a subtle smile spreading across her lips, "But tell me, brigadier, if you were subject to a court-martial, what punishment would it impose?"
The brigadier was disconcerted by Lady Sally's smile-it was a bad omen. From bitter experience, it usually meant she was having a fiendish idea. A trap was being laid for him.
"Well, mistress, if it were deemed to constitute desertion, then it would be a treasonable offence, and the punishment would be execution by hanging."
"But taking into consideration the mitigating circumstances of having a mistress to submit to, what punishment then?"
"I don't know. I doubt such a case has come before the military tribunal, mistress."
"You think not?"
The paddle came crashing down on the brigadier's arse again. He howled in pain. He hadn't prepared himself for the heavy stroke. The tingling pain spread across his backside like spiky tentacles.
"Yet, I know how many of the officer class indulge themselves of chastisement from a strict mistress. Come now, you are raised on corporal punishment-a strict governess, public school, Sandringham, the barracks. You cannot resist a good caning... and if it's from a sexy mistress, skilled in the arts of sadistic punishment, like yours truly, then all the better."
"Yes, mistress. Of course, mistress. It's true, who could not resist the magnificent Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester."
"I know what sentence a court-martial would pass. They would give a full judicial punishment, would they not?"
The brigadier gulped, "Yes, mistress."
"So there, the dilemma of how I should deal with your disobedience is resolved. For failing to join my airship adventure, the punishment is a judicial flogging and caning," Lady Sally announced triumphantly.
"Thank you, mistress. That's very fair, mistress," replied the brigadier, hints of both anxiety and anticipation in his voice.
To get him warmed up for what was to follow, Lady Sally gave him another almighty whack with the wooden paddle. The brigadier groaned. His arse throbbed.
"That is merely the beginning," warned Lady Sally. "A military tribunal would expect the most severe punishment to be inflicted for dereliction of duty... the duty in this case being servitude to me."
Brigadier Trumpington was completely in her control. He was used to this, had attended Lady Sally on many occasions and willingly subjected himself to all manner of punishments, but he was nervous. He'd deeply offended Lady Sally by not joining her airship adventure, and he was not going to get off lightly.
There was a clunk of wood upon wood as she dropped the paddle onto an occasional table behind her. He followed the trail of Lady Sally's footsteps as her metal-tipped heels clicked across the floor, visualising her statuesque figure as it surveyed the implements of corporal punishment on display. She pondered over which to choose.
Lady Sally had the largest collection of antique whips, canes, riding crops, floggers and straps in the country. She had built the collection up over many years, having poured through specialist magazines forwarded to her from her favoured bookseller in Drury Lane to seek out new acquisitions to her collection. She corresponded with collectors from all over the world, arranging for implements to be shipped to her from far-flung parts of the globe. She attended auction sales and, such was her determination to acquire every antique or unusual tool of corporal punishment... and such was her wealth, that she would outbid anybody for an implement she'd set her heart on.
She possessed the riding crop used by the Duke of Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo, the cat of nine tails from 'The Bounty', a rattan cane used by a Moghul emperor, a set of leather straps from Han Dynasty China and a bull whip from Commander Cody's wild west show. Anything distinctive, or with a unique history, she purchased for her collection. The most precious items were kept in a glass fronted mahogany cabinet. She only used these on special occasions. The more everyday tools for corporal punishment were arranged in rows on brass hooks around the room. There was a myriad of options available to her.
It was to the objects hanging freely available to which she turned. After all, the type of judicial punishment she had in mind for the brigadier might break skin and draw blood... and she certainly didn't want to stain any of her precious canes and floggers with a slave's blood. That would simply not do.
She pulled a leather flogger off its hook. She ran its thongs through her silken fingers to assess their feel and weight. The leather bands were heavy and thick and would deliver a suitable whack on Brigadier Trumpington's arse. She nestled the flogger's handle in her hand, and her fingers wrapped around it in comfort.
Yes, that would do nicely for warming him up
.
