Mistress Of The Air Ch 24

Captain Wyndham sprang into action. He had no idea what caused such a catastrophic engine failure, but he knew what had to be done. The next minutes were critical because

The Corseted Domme

was hurtling to the ground, and an explosion bigger than any Lady Sally had experienced, not to mention a fiery death.

He picked up the speaker funnel and barked instructions to the rigger-men, who were already on their feet, alarmed at the rapid descent. Clarissa jammed the elevators as hard as she could to level the airship's trajectory. If they could halt the descent even for a few moments, there might be hope for them.

The airship stabilised, hitting a more level trajectory. The captain stared anxiously outside the windows, praying the rigger-men had got to their stations in good time. At the rear end of the airship, beyond the tail on the upper side of its frame, he saw what he hoped; a series of parachutes billowing in the wind. This was the airship's emergency braking system in the event of such a catastrophe. Captain Wyndham gave a wry smile, all the new technology; steam, aether and electricity, but what might save them were big pieces of material and rope.

They weren't safe yet. It was a dangerous operation to bring an airship of these dimensions down in a controlled way with no engines. The parachutes slowed them, and the airship had levelled off, but they still had to undertake the tricky manoeuvre of landing safely without a mooring mast. It was every airship pilot's nightmare. The situation was at least stable, and he could spare a few minutes to explain to Lady Sally what was happening. He put Clarissa in charge of the controls, leaving her with one of the rigger-men, who was under instruction to fetch him at the first sign of any changes in their flight pattern. He headed back along the gondola.

The sight that confronted him was chaotic. The positioning of the whipping bench was such that the unfortunate protagonist tied to it, which was the duke, was facing the rear of the airship. So, when it veered sharply downwards, the angle of trajectory pinned the rubber phallus on the automaton deep into his arse, and there it was well and truly stuck. Lady Sally, who had been at the other end of the bench having her strap-on sucked, went flying. She was now slumped in a heap against the viewing window, a massive black cock sticking out from her waist. Victoria was reduced to jelly, wailing that they were all about to die.

"Well, I hope you have an explanation for your poor steering, captain," scolded Lady Sally.

A faint smile came across his lips. Given her undignified predicament, he was hardly expecting praise.

"The engines have cut out, madam. All of them, which is exceptional. You might expect one engine to develop a fault but not four, and for all of them to fail is strange."

The captain stepped over to Lady Sally and offered a hand, pulling her onto her feet.

"What does that mean, captain?" she asked.

"We have to make a forced landing, with no engines, and no mooring mast."

"Is it dangerous?"

"About as dangerous as it gets for an airship."

"Oh, how exciting," she exclaimed.

"Oh, madam!" groaned her maid, who had wet her knickers again.

"It's a tricky manoeuvre, I'm not going to deny it."

"And if it doesn't work?"

The captain shrugged, "A thousand cubic feet of hydrogen combined with fire - the biggest explosion you're ever likely to witness."

Caught in a gust of wind, the airship lurched to one side. Lady Sally, teetering on high heels and thrown off balance by the sudden movement, toppled forward. The captain leapt forward to catch her. Instinctively his arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her towards him to prevent her from falling. Her breasts pressed against his jumper, his body becoming enveloped in the shiny, latex cat-suit, whilst the stiff rubber cock dug into his midriff. She looked up at him with an enigmatic smile, those piercing blue eyes burning right through him. Their lips were close. He only needed to lean forward slightly for them to touch, and for him to kiss those sensuous, red lips. He longed to, but did he dare take such a liberty with a strict dominatrix?

The airship lurched again and the fleeting moment passed. Captain Wyndham was thrown back to the desperate reality of their situation.

"I'm sorry, Lady Sally, but I have to go back to the control room. I can't wait any longer, we have to try to make our landing."

"I'll accompany you to the bridge. If I'm going to meet a fiery doom, I shall want a front row seat," she said in a nonchalant tone of voice.

They rushed across the length of the gondola. Clarissa was holding the airship steady.

The Corseted Domme

was making a long, slow descent, the billowing parachutes behind her, controlling her speed. The captain took up his seat, with Lady Sally between him and the automaton with a grandstand view of the wheat fields looming closer and closer as they gradually lost altitude.

The captain put the mouthpiece of the speaker funnel to his lips, pulling it away to explain to Lady Sally what was happening, "The rigger-men are waiting to throw out the anchors. The timing is crucial, and then we have to hope that at least a few of them hook into the earth and bring us to a stop. The anchors suspend the airship in the air. If they don't hold, then the gondola will hit the ground."

The airship glided over the wheat fields. The terrain was perfect for this landing, the captain would have encountered enormous difficulties if they were still flying over the forests. He held on. Judging the altitude and timing were crucial. Concentration was etched over his face. He held his nerve until the last possible moment, shouting through the mouthpiece, "Now."

He leapt from his seat and craned his neck around to look towards the rear of the airship. He saw the cables flying through the air with the heavy, iron grappling-hooks at their ends. He saw one hit the ground and bounce off. "Damn," he said. He watched as another scraped through the ears of wheat without gaining any purchase in the soil. "Bugger," he swore. He saw the next grappling-hook disappear into the wheat. It tore through the ears before locking into the ground. "Yes," he shouted triumphantly. The fourth and fifth anchors dug into the soil.

The anchors pulled them to a sudden halt, lurching the airship sharply backwards and then forwards. Lady Sally was thrown by the velocity of the movement across the cockpit against the captain, the rubber cock ramming into his posterior and pinning him against the viewing window, Lady Sally's body pressed against him. Her face was alongside his.

"Wonderful captain. Jolly good show!" she shouted.

And then she planted a kiss on his cheek.

The captain was overwhelmed. His heart was pumping. Was it the adrenaline from surviving such dangers, or was it the kiss from Lady Sally? He saw his reflection in the glass, the pursed outline of her red lipstick on his cheek.

The airship was suspended in the air by the anchors. The bottom of the gondola was no more than ten feet from the wheat field, you could jump to the ground from it. However shaken the crew and passengers might be, they were alive. And

The Corseted Domme

suffered no further damage, the gondola never touched the ground and the duralumin frame had withstood the stress of the impact.

Lady Sally turned to him, "Truthfully captain, how dangerous was that?"

"Bloody dangerous. When I realised the engines had cut out, I'd have given our chances as 1 in 100. We're lucky."

"It's not luck captain; it's skill and bravery. I told you I was a good judge of character when I chose my airship captain."

Captain Wyndham blushed with pride.

"Oh look, it's exactly three-thirty. Just in time for tea. I think we could do with a brew."