Mistress Of The Air Ch 35

Seeing how enamoured Lady Sally was with the

Camorra

, Captain Wyndham held back from expressing his concerns regarding an organisation with a reputation for ruthlessness and violence that surpassed even the

Mafia

.

His immediate problem was loading the massive statue onto the airship. It was too tall to stand upright anywhere in the gondola. Luckily, the airship did have a hold for storage. The statue was hauled into this (an operation requiring the crew and lots of rope), wrapped in sheets of linen to protect it, laid on its side, and secured into position by the ropes. The captain hoped Lady Sally would not need a speedy getaway because, what with the statue which weighed tons, and the thousands of tiles for her Turkish Bath, the airship was going to be sluggish.

Dinner time was lively. The party drank lots of wine, including many bottles of

Brunello di Montalcino

, Lady Sally's favourite wine from her Tuscan vineyard, crates of which had been loaded onto her airship for the wine cellars of Rudston Hall.

The captain joined the party just as Signore Fellatio was showing off his tattoos to Lady Sally. This included the one on his chest which depicted the back of a naked woman with the inscription (in Italian)

in your anus I have lost half of my cock

, which she found highly amusing.

In the morning, they prepared for the outing to Pompeii. Signore Fellatio generously arranged to supply a procession of horse and carts for the party and their lavish picnic-lunch.

The dock-side was busy, the flamboyant English lady in her cool linen dress and parasol with her strange entourage attracting lots of attention. Once again, the captain, in his roll-neck jumper, fedora hat and flying boots, envied the lightweight suits of the other gentlemen.

His curiosity was aroused by observing people at the docks. Most of the seething throng were the locals who had greeted the airship so enthusiastically. There were the burly Italian dockers in their working clothes, the pedlars selling their wares, the women in peasant clothes and headscarves, and the bare-footed children trying to scrounge sweet cakes from the crowds.

Amongst them were figures who didn't fit in. There were individuals sat at the cafes who clearly weren't natives of Naples. Others appeared to be engrossed in Italian newspapers, yet every so often they dropped a corner to observe surreptitiously what was going on at the dock-side. The captain got the distinct impression Lady Sally and her entourage were being watched. Perhaps these were the members of the

Camorra

offered to provide 'discreet' protection, but he doubted it.

"Should we take the lightning blunderbusses with us?" he suggested to Lady Sally.

"I don't think it's necessary, captain, but if you think so, then by all means, go and get one."

For some inexplicable reason, the captain felt uneasy, so he scurried back to the airship to collect a rifle before the carts set off for the archaeological site.

Lady Sally toured the remains of Pompeii with interest. She marvelled at how perfectly the streets and buildings had been preserved by the volcanic ash. She was fascinated by the petrified bodies, frozen in time at the point of their deaths. She wondered at the eerie sensation of walking the empty avenues of the deserted city. She imagined what its inhabitants must have felt when they were, unexpectedly, pummelled with volcanic rock and then suffocated in layers of ash.

Having taken in the wonders of the site it was not long before Lady Sally was leading them to the locations she most wanted to see; the baths and the brothel, with their notorious erotic frescoes. She paid the guardian a handsome sum to unlock the gates and allow her access.

Lady Sally stood in the stone chamber which acted as the entrance hall for the brothel. The walls were surrounded by erotic figures painted in ochre, in earthy yellows, browns or greens, and bold reds. They were well-preserved.

"How wonderful," gasped Lady Sally. "To think these have been preserved for over two thousand years, and they are still perfectly clear. The Ancient Romans certainly appreciated sexual indulgence. What magnificent images. I should convert one of the rooms in Rudston Hall and have the wall painted with scenes of me punishing my slaves."

"Yes, I can just see that, madam. Imagine what future archaeologists would make of it," offered her maid.

"What an interesting thought, Victoria. They would speculate on what sadistic pleasures took place in the house, on whether they were real or the products of someone's perverted imagination. They would look at the pictures of me and marvel at the seductive female capable of entrapping men into scenes of bondage and flagellation."

"Indeed, madam," added Victoria, encouraging Lady Sally in her flight of fancy.

"Look here," commented the lawyer as he pointed to a mural of a naked woman reclining on a couch, his classical education coming to the fore, "she must surely be Venus."

"Yes, that would be me-the Goddess of love and fertility, but come to dominate and enslave."

"Look at this one, mistress," commented Kina Linguzh, pointing at a bearded figure with an outrageously huge cock.

"That's Priapus," explained the judge. "The Greek God of fertility, nature and male genitalia, always portrayed with a ludicrously over-sized erection."

Lady Sally was impressed by the size of his member, "The men don't understand, they have such small cocks. What I would give to have a Priapus to serve in my dungeon to pleasure me."

The four gentlemen looked deflated at their mistress's description of their manhood.

"I have our entertainment for the afternoon," she announced. "We should try to recreate the ancient Roman Empire, and re-enact scenes in the frescoes. I've paid the guardian handsomely for private access so we will not be disturbed."

The submissive gentlemen were enthusiastic and soon had their clothes ripped off. With the zeal of the new convert, the lesbian dwarf was up for it. Lady Sally stripped down to her ivory chemise, threw her silk scarf over her shoulders, and reclined on the stone bed, like Venus, to direct the proceedings.

"Come, captain. Don't be coy. You should enter into the spirit of my re-enactment of the debauchery of Ancient Rome. I'm sure you have no reason to be ashamed of your naked body. I promise I'll not do anything to humiliate you, if that's your concern; besides, I have plenty of men willing to subject themselves to that for me."

"Very well, madam," he replied gruffly, torn between his reluctance to expose himself, and a desire to please Lady Sally.

He pulled his jumper over his head, relieved to divest himself of the heavy, woollen garment if the truth was known. His trousers, flying boots and goggles were soon dispensed with until he stood there in just his underpants.

"And your knickerbockers, captain." Lady Sally gestured with her finger.

He slid his underpants over his muscular legs. It was as Lady Sally observed, he had nothing to be ashamed of. Beneath his pointed face with its straggly goatee beard was a well-toned body. His time in the army had given him a powerful physique and, as an aviator, it was necessary to keep a high level of physical fitness to endure the hardships of flying bi-planes.

Lady Sally cast him an appreciative glance. "Mm. There, you see, you have nothing to fear. What a delicious body you have. Come here, captain," she said, beckoning him over.

The captain shuffled forward until his groin was eye-level with Lady Sally's face. She reached out a hand and ran a finger along his shaft.

"And look, you must certainly have the longest cock of my submissive men, and it's not even erect... yet. You can be my Priapus."

The captain's pulse raced. He had succumbed to Lady Sally's wiles. Not that there was any doubt in his, or her, mind he would surrender to her demands. She had the power to do that; few men were capable of resisting it and Captain Wyndham recognised he was not one of them. He stood naked in front of the woman he had admired from their first meeting, even from the fleeting glance of her in the grandstand at Doncaster Aerodrome, which seemed an age ago now. He had shared such adventures with her and, through them, his respect, submission, and love for her had only blossomed. And now he stood there, trying to resist her teasing fingers but knowing resistance was futile. The blood surged into his cock as it swelled to an erection.

Lady Sally's eyes met his, and she smiled. She allowed a fleeting moment of intimacy between them before turning to recreate the scenes of Bacchanalian debauchery of a Pompeii brothel.

She orchestrated proceedings, taking the images from the frescoes and reproducing them in a present-day Dionysian orgy of sexual ecstasy. She reproduced the painting of the satyr seducing a maiden by having the judge who had the right amount of body hair for the role, to grope her breasts. The mosaic of a woman crouched over a man, fondling his cock was replicated by her and the dwarf with the men. The fresco of Pan, yet another god of fertility (the Romans liked their fertility gods) was acted out with the banker who was made to strut about as if he had the legs of a goat. The scene of a man performing oral sex on a lady as she reclined on a couch, her legs splayed to offer up her sex to him, was enthusiastically joined by the bishop. The men were made to copy the scenes of homosexual acts, which principally showed men bending over a reclining partner to suck cock.

A series of frescoes depicting the sexual act was re-enacted by Lady Sally. This involved many positions: bent double as the banker took her from behind, reclining on the stone divan with her legs on the duke's shoulders, lowering herself onto the judge as he lay on the couch, crouched on the floor 'doggy' style and many others, as they took turns to enter her. She had several satisfying orgasms in the course of the action, and much spunk was spent by the men during an afternoon of frenzied fucking.

Lady Sally noted, with irritation, that most of the frescoes depicted the men in dominant positions, but that could not be helped if she wanted to recreate the images faithfully, and certainly didn't detract from her enjoyment.

The dwarf was an enthusiastic participant in the proceedings. She declared that though she may be a lesbian she was not averse to sex with men. Victoria remained fully clothed in her maid's dress, and had to clean up after them, as was fitting.

Sensitive to the captain's hesitancy about entering into her sexual games, Lady Sally didn't involve the captain in the orgy. His role was to represent the fresco of Priapus with the over-sized cock as the god of fertility inspiring them to new levels of depravity. It intrigued her to observe the captain's reaction, as he was clearly tortured between keeping himself distant from the other submissive men and the desire for intimacy with her. The frustration of his predicament was etched over face, much to Lady Sally's interest, and amusement.

The entourage was exhausted and sticky with sweat, and other body fluids. They could have done with a relaxing Roman plunge bath, but unfortunately the sauna at Pompeii had not been in use for millennia. Frau Linguzh, complaining she always needed to pee after sex, sneaked out of the stone house to find somewhere secluded. The others got dressed, ready to leave the Roman brothel and its frescoes to have their picnic. By the time they were ready, the dwarf had still not returned. They waited longer, but she still didn't appear.

"Perhaps, this has been a ploy to give her a chance to escape from you," suggested Victoria.

"No, I don't believe so. I'm an excellent judge of character, and I can tell her conversion to my service is sincere. She has been gone too long, and Signore Fellatio did warn us of robbers in this area. I'm concerned for her, I must confess."