It was Lady Sally's intention to put everybody into bondage before putting her particular brand of sensuous torment into effect. With Borghild now fully engaged in the task it wasn't long before they were in some form of restraint, the sensitive parts of their anatomy and vital orifices exposed. It was her aim for them to experience each of the dastardly steam and electric powered devices during the day, along with the more traditional forms of corporal punishment provided by her collection of implements. There were the strap-on cocks as well. Lady Sally secured a belt around her waist and an enormous black, rubber cock protruded from her crotch. She helped Borghild on with a red phallus. They were ready for serious sadistic play. By tea-time the gentlemen's nipples and backsides would be so sore they wouldn't know where to put themselves.
There was a special treat in store for the lesbian dwarf; a pair of vibrating brass balls, which Lady Sally had brought along for her own pleasure, but were the only device she had not yet used during her travels. She stretched the dwarf's gash wide open and pushed them inside, leaving the wires attached to the brass dial for adjusting the vibration trailing from her crack. Lady Sally was exceedingly pleased with the results. The controlling gauge hummed as the balls vibrated at an intensity capable of bringing Frau Linguzh to a state of arousal without tipping her over the edge into climax. Lady Sally could maintain this erotic suspense until she deigned to allow her to come if indeed she would.
For the rest of the day Lady's Sally's playroom was a maelstrom of activity. The sounds of the different devices filled the room. The electro-vibrator purred with an electric hum, the steam-powered pumping phallus thumped and hissed, the electric masturbating machine buzzed, whilst the steam-powered spanking device pumped and slapped. All of this, along with the gasps, groans, squeals and screams of pain and pleasure created a cacophony of noise which ebbed and flowed during the morning as the activity reached a series of crescendos. At the centre was Lady Sally like the conductor of an orchestra.
Every so often each of the protagonists was untied and placed into a different predicament so that everybody experienced the full range of Lady Sally's wicked devices.
Borghild's glass eyes glinted with an expression which could only be described as satisfaction; now fully trained, she was an enthusiastic participant in the sadistic orgy her mistress orchestrated.
For Lady Sally, it was a most satisfying day, and the culmination of her travels as her dastardly toys were being put to full use. She was enjoying herself immensely. She climbed up on the rack and was crouching over the duke to penetrate him with her strap-on. Her arse, a magnificent mound of peachy flesh, thrust into the air as she probed the duke's anal passage ready to penetrate him.
Lady Sally's arse was a thing of wondrous beauty, an orb of deliciously soft voluptuousness, and a source of both admiration and arousal to her submissive gentlemen. Positioned as it was, it was presented a marvellous target. It hovered in the air invitingly. Of course, however tempting, none of her guests dare touch it without permission. On a rare occasion she might invite a privileged slave to plant his lips on it as an act of submissive homage to his mistress.
Borghild's eyes swivelled around. They alighted on Lady Sally's posterior and lit up with a red glow. She had been trained to find arse... she had been trained to whip arse... and this was the most inviting arse she'd ever recorded in her photo-sensitive cells. It was there, suspended in the air in all its fleshy glory, just waiting to be beaten. What else could a well-trained automaton do?
Lady Sally's eyes widened. It came as a shock, the slash of leather thongs against her arse... and with one of
her own
whips! She knew what it felt like to be whipped. Purely in the interests of research she was not averse to experiencing the treatments she meted out to her slaves. But this was a complete surprise. It was undoubtedly a hard stroke but its impact was not without pleasure as Lady Sally felt her flesh wobble with the impact, and the prickly pain fan out across her backside. She took a deep breath. She cocked her head to one side to see the culprit, Borghild, standing behind her, whip in hand, a look of what could only be described as pleasure in her glass eyes. A look that Lady Sally had seen many times reflected in the mirror whilst she punished her slaves. The look of a dominatrix enjoying herself.
She waited to see what the automaton would do next. She felt a cold, brass hand run its fingers across her bottom. Borghild had observed and learnt well. This was precisely Lady Sally's art, alternating sensual play with severe hits. A second stroke came zipping onto her backside. The gentlemen, now aware of what was happening, gazed aghast upon their mistress receiving a whipping from her automaton.
A third stroke whipped with a loud smack. It was not unpleasant... quite the opposite, the glowing pain was rather nice. Lady Sally understood only too well the pleasure her slaves got from the administration of seductive pain inflicted by a skilful mistress. In different circumstances, she might have allowed Borghild to continue. Indeed, when she got home to Rudston Hall, she may well allow the automaton to play with her in such a way. But this was not the time. She could not allow an automaton to get the better of her, especially in front of the men. That would simply not do. Her automaton had to be brought under
her
control and disciplined like any other wilfully disobedient slave. She needed to be taught a lesson.
Furiously, Lady Sally swivelled around and jumped off the rack to confront Borghild. Could the automaton understand what she had done wrong? Seeing the fierce look and dominant posture her mistress assumed as she snatched the whip from her hands, the red glow in Borghild's eyes dimmed.
"Your behaviour is completely unacceptable. You must be punished.
Punished
. Do you understand?"
Borghild hung her head in shame.
Luckily, the whipping bench was free. Lady Sally grabbed the automaton by her brass hand and dragged her over to it. She pushed her onto her knees on the bench and, in moments, had her wrists and ankles cuffed. She pulled her head back by the blonde wig, stuffed a ball-gag in her mouth and tightened the strap. Lady Sally realised it was entirely unnecessary, but it was, nonetheless, a means of enforcing upon the automaton who was in charge.
Lady Sally lifted up the red latex skirt. She couldn't help but admire the shiny, golden curves of her backside. The artificers had done a wonderful job with the moulding, the shape of the mounds being remarkably lifelike even though they were fashioned from brass.
Lady Sally stood in front of the automaton, the leather tendrils of the whip dangling menacingly before her eyes. The men looked on in astonishment, none of them daring to comment on the bizarre spectacle of their mistress striding around the whipping bench to administer corporal punishment on a brass arse.
Lady Sally raised the whip high above her head and brought it slashing down on with a crack on the shiny metal. The automaton might not feel a thing but, nonetheless, she had acquired enough understanding from observing her mistress to know this was a punishment. Lady Sally felt it was imperative to establish her control to prevent any further disobedience from Borghild in the future. Lady Sally continued to thrash the automaton with her hardest strokes, beating her relentlessly with slash upon slash.
This was the scene the captain encountered when he entered the playroom to inform his mistress they were beginning their descent towards the airship station in Paris. He looked surprised, and not a little bemused, at the spectacle of Lady Sally delivering a vicious beating to a brass automaton.
"You many well wonder what has gone on, captain. All I will say is that it's a poor do when one has to discipline one's own automaton."
