The next morning Lady Sally lay slumped in an armchair in her Chinese, silk dressing gown embroidered with dragons, somewhat worse for wear. Her uncle's vodka had left her with a throbbing head, yet her maid insisted on clumping around in a huff. She couldn't imagine why.
"Did we really blow up the monument?"
"You certainly did," confirmed Victoria in a tone of reproof.
Lady Sally smiled as her memory of the event returned through the vodka induced haze.
"Well, Victoria, there's no point one being a
Mistress of the Air
if one cannot have adventures, and besides, it was a daring escapade and a magnificent explosion... one of my finest, I think."
"Yes, madam, of course, madam," replied her maid, not terribly convincingly.
"And where are our anarchist comrades now?"
"The captain dropped them in a village in the forests where their comrades are living in a commune. If you recall, you invited them to join the airship's party, but they said you were far too dangerous for them... and they are anarchists, madam."
"I don't know what they're fussing over. It was just a little explosion... and nobody got hurt."
As if her maid's grumblings weren't enough whilst in this fragile state, Lady Sally now had cook on the warpath.
"Milady, I can't put up with this no more."
"What, the explosions?"
"No milady. Your explosions is your business. I mean the food going missing. The kitchens, that's my business."
"Can't this wait cook. As you can see I'm not at my best this morning."
"Not when cold chicken legs goes missing, milady... and currant scones... and bottles of ale. I tell you there's a thief on board. Now, I don't want to cast no aspersions, milady, but there's some strange characters on this airship."
"'T was ever thus, cook, as you well know. But why would anyone want to steal food? Everybody's fed perfectly adequately, even if my gentlemen are made to eat off the floor as humiliation, they're hardly left to starve."
"I'm just saying what I've seen, milady. I know where every ounce of sugar is in that kitchen, and I knows when things go missing."
"Well, just keep an eye on the situation cook, maybe one of the rigger-men wanted a snack in the middle of the night. Now, to more pressing matters, do you have a good remedy for a hangover?"
"Ah, so now you needs mi advice."
"Yes cook, but I'd rather not have it served with recriminations."
"You needs raw eggs... raw eggs and Worcester sauce, that'll do the trick. I'll get you some."
Cook stormed off triumphantly.
Lady Sally was restless. She fancied some amusement but with the minimum input from herself. She could set the automation sex doll off and see what havoc she could cause, but there was another option... one of her dastardly devices.
She summoned up the effort to put her make up on and get dressed. She put on one of her many corsets, this particular one with scarlet panels and black ribbons, over a black silk blouse, and matching-coloured skirt. She enlisted Victoria's help in lacing up the corset to cheer her up. Lady Sally knew her maid too well, knew she loved to handle her wardrobe and help her get dressed. There was many a time Lady Sally had caught her maid trying on her undergarments, for which she had to be reprimanded. Helping her get dressed might take Victoria out of her reproachful frame of mind following the business with the anarchists.
Just getting out of her dressing gown and putting something sexy and empowering on improved her mood.
She got Victoria to retrieve the device she wanted to test and summon her slaves to the playroom. She intended to activate Borghild to demonstrate the art of sensual tease for her as the device she was about to use required the availability of four hard cocks.
She had her four submissive gentlemen lined against the wood-panelled wall, deciding not to put them into bondage on this occasion. They were issued with the instruction they were to stand with their hands behind their backs, and the stricture that they were not permitted an erection. She saw the effort of will this took for them. Dressed relatively demurely as she was (at least for her) the curves of her breasts were visible under the silk blouse, along with a peek of hard nipples pressing against the sleek material.
She marched back and forth before them with, a leather whip in her hand, so they could admire the curve of her shapely backside in the tight skirt, as she inspected them. Borghild followed behind her with her goose-step mechanical march.
"Hmm, let me see how long you can withstand my ministrations without getting an erection."
She ran the thongs of the whip teasingly along the duke's chest, across his abdomen, over his balls and, finally, along the length of his cock, teasing him into arousal with the soft leather thongs. His breath deepened and the muscles around his neck tightened as he tried to resist both the touch of the leather tendrils on his penis, and the anticipation of what might follow.
"Hmm, very good. I'm glad to see you can exercise some control."
She went along the line, repeating the same teasing acts on the other gentlemen. They all, with different quirks and mannerisms, tried to resist the tantalisingly teasing strokes of the leather whip. Their cocks twitched with arousal, but they were able to control themselves. Lady Sally needed to use other means to break them.
She went back along the line to face the duke. She fixed her blue eyes on his. Her cleavage, with the distinct phoenix tattoo on one of her breasts, swelled in front of him. Whilst still fixing his gaze, her hand strayed to his cock and balls. She brushed her fingernails across the tip of his cock, and he expelled a gasp. Nobody could resist Lady Sally's touch when she was minded to induce a hard-on. The red painted nail ran along his shaft, and at once the flaccid flesh responded, throbbing as it was with need and desire. She wrapped her fist around it and squeezed. She felt the object hardening within her fingers. When she released it, the cock sprang up, it's shaft now hard with blue veins standing out.
"You have such a pleasing cock, duke. It's just such a shame you cannot exercise adequate control over it."
"I'm sorry, mistress," he mumbled.
The automaton mimicked Lady Sally's actions, running her smooth, brassy finger along his cock. Borghild's touch was cold and firm. She closed her brass fist around the duke's member. The gears whirred, and the fingers tightened... and tightened, around it.
Meanwhile, Lady Sally moved along the line, replicating the same acts, and exactly the same sensitivity of touch with each of her slaves, so she could set a fair test for each of them.
Borghild's fist was closing tighter and tighter around the duke's cock, its glans squeezing out from her brass fingers.
