"Contessa, I think I've found exactly what you're looking for."
La Contessa is on a mission; she has brought me into the Cannaregio district of Venice again to scour her contacts in the whore-houses of Venice for a girl who can play the role of a slave girl for her. She is deep in conversation with the matron of Il Torro Negro tavern. I was raised in the Cannaregio and before being found by one of her servants and entering the service of La Contessa I used to serve in the inns and brothels around here and, of course, do any work that was offered to me, whether that meant prostituting myself with a noblewoman or with some visiting merchant.
Eighteenth century Venice is a tolerant liberated city and the alleyways of the Cannaregio one its most debauched districts. La Contessa takes pleasure in visiting these places in Venice's dark underbelly, sometimes in disguise, sometimes not. The last time I was in Il Torro Negro I was dressed as a noblewoman and debauched in one of La Contessa's perverted scenes. But today La Contessa appears as herself, dressed sumptuously in an indigo gown woven with pearls and her ebony hair swept above her head and held by two ivory combs. Over her shoulder is a black velvet cape. She wears a plain white mask over her eyes to disguise her identity, though she is so renowned in Venice that it probably serves little purpose. All eyes in the tavern are turned on her. The brothels of the Cannaregio attract a diverse clientele and it is not unusual to find noblewomen here searching for some sexual excitement and they wouldn't normally attract a second glance but La Contessa is a woman who commands attention wherever she goes. Her statuesque figure, her voluptuous curves and stunning dress draws the draws the gaze of everybody in the tavern.
"So, what makes you think she will be suitable?" La Contessa asks.
"I got a chance to speak with her. Her tale is a sorry one. She's had many unfortunate encounters. But, she says she is genuinely submissive and I believe her. "
"Do you think she understands what service to me would mean?"
"I can't say for sure your ladyship."
"I've plenty of girls in my service who will prostitute themselves for me and are only too willing to suck cock and offer themselves to be fucked at my masquerade balls, but I'm looking for someone special, a girl who's prepared to go further, who has the imagination to participate in my little games and is willing to do anything for her mistress.'
"All I can say Contessa is this girl struck me as being a bit different. I see plenty of pretty girls who come to me wanting to work here but this one isn't like the others."
"Hmm," La Contessa ponders, "I'm definitely interested in her. Where's this girl now?"
"Ah well, that's the problem your ladyship, she's in the hands of a merchant from Syria who's been staying here. He asked for a private cellar room where he could keep a girl. I found him a little cell room in the cellars where he keeps her. I don't know what he does to her there; it's none of my business your ladyship, I'm sure you understand, I don't interfere in anyone else's business. But, I sometimes take her food, which is how I got to talk to her. She's a pretty girl Contessa though I've got to say she's in a bit of a sorry state at the moment."
"Take me to her."
"Oh, that's a bit difficult your ladyship, only the gentleman is down there with her now."
"Do you dare cross me Madame?"
A fierce stare, a raised eyebrow and a few harsh words and the poor matron of the house is catapulted into a state of agitation.
"Oh no, of course not your ladyship. I don't mean to contradict you. I'm sure I can arrange something. Come with me."
La Contessa has a satisfied smile on her face. We follow the matron down winding stone steps to the cellars where she points to a door hidden away in the corner and leaves us. My mistress gestures for me to be silent as we creep forwards. There is a metal grill in the door and La Contessa positions herself so that she can see through the door without being seen herself. She gestures for me to take a position on the other side so that we can both peep through the opening in the door.
The matron of the house was being coy about the purpose of the cell as it is perfectly clear that it's part of the services she provides in her brothel and is designed for the use of her clientele with more sadistic tastes. It's a dark cell fitted out with numerous chains and hooks. At first all I can see is a man's back dressed in baggy light blue pantaloons and top and a turbaned head but as he turns to one side I can see a pot-bellied Arab man with a long black beard, who is clearly the merchant from Syria. Looking past him I can now see the girl. She is crouched in a corner, chained and shackled like a wild animal in a cage. The waves in her fair hair are matted and her body bears the marks of physical abuse. There is a metal collar around her neck attached to a long chain, which is fastened to a hook in the stone wall. At the moment this affords her some freedom of movement but her wrists and ankles have heavy metal shackles on, which have been used to secure her to the wall.
The merchant takes a pace towards her and slaps her hard across the face with the palm of his hand and draws it back again striking her other cheek with the back of his hand.
"Whore slut of Bablyon," he shouts at her. "You're my slut and sex slave now. When I get you back to my land you'll be made to service all my family. I have seven sons, all of them randy. They'll take pleasure in having a little white girl to fuck. You'll be my sex slave for life, what do you think of that?"
The girl remains silent and the merchant slaps her violently across the face again.
"I said, what do you think of that girl?"
"Yes, very good master," the girl replies quietly.
La Contessa is watching intently. Will she intervene I wonder? At the moment she appears content to let the scene unfold before her, her blue eyes gazing with studied fascination. I try to gauge the girl's reaction to her abuse. Is she enjoying this treatment? I know that such a thing can be possible. I have been tormented and tortured by La Contessa many times and have learnt to appreciate the blurred line between pain and pleasure and stay loyal in my service to her because of, not despite of, her treatment of me. But, I see no hint of pleasure or engagement in the girl's face, only a blank look. Her expression is resigned as if this is a fate that she has to accept.
The merchant pulls at the girl's bodice and rips it apart releasing her ample breasts. He bends down and bites her on the tits. I can see the red marks he has left on her soft flesh. He reaches out for a whip that is on the floor and lashes her across the breasts with it. There girl doesn't moan or whimper let alone scream. The act of striking the girl is arousing the merchant sexually as I can see the outline of a hard cock pressing against his loose pants.
"Get on your knees bitch," he shouts at her. "I'm going to make you my bitch-dog you fucking slut. Now, get on all fours."
With a clank of the metal shackles on her ankles and wrists on the stone the girl does as she is ordered and gets herself onto all fours. The Syrian merchant stands over her pulling the chain attached to her collar so the rough edges of the metal dig into her neck. He grabs hold of her hair and yanks it hard. The girl lets out a gasp and egged on by the reaction the merchant twists her hair around his fist and pulls even harder. This time the girl, anticipating what was going to happen, doesn't react. He pulls her head around and puts his face close up to hers.
"I'm going to take you girl, like a bitch in heat. But I'm going to give you some punishment first because you're an insolent whore. What are you?"
"An insolent whore and a bitch slut master," she answers obediently.
She releases her hair and, whilst still on all fours, she pulls up her skirt and sets on her back-side with the whip. The blows rain down on the peachy flesh of her arse. The whacking sound of leather on skin fills the cell. The blows get harder and harder until her back side is glowing red.
"Take that you bitch. What do you say?"
"Thank you, sir."
He throws the whip onto the ground, drops his pants and kneels in front of her. He twists her hair around his hand again and pushes her head down onto his erect cock.
"Now suck on it, slut."
The girl responds immediately to the command and takes the angry hardness in her mouth and sucks on it. Her head bobs up and down as her lips run along the length of his throbbing member.
"Ooh, yes, suck hard you bitch, suck harder."
Still holding onto her hair he pushes the girl's head up and down his cock in fast rhythmic movements. He lets go of her hair and the girl continues the tempo of her sucking, her mouth moving in a frantic motions. The merchant looks at though he is about to burst, his face is bright red and he is moaning in ecstasy shouting, "suck me whore, suck me."
Suddenly he pulls his cock out of the girl's mouth and moves behind her. She's still on her hands and knees in a doggy position and the merchant let's go of her chain lead to grasp her hips and push himself into her cunt. He's so close to coming that it only takes a few hard pushes before he releases his load into her. He moans in ecstasy. She pants for breath with the shock and force of the final penetration. She collapses onto the floor, no longer able to hold the position on her hands and knees, and the weight of the Syrian merchant's corpulent body falls onto her.
La Contessa and I look on transfixed. I can see Mistress is not interested in the cock sucking and the forced fucking, she is studying the girl's behaviour, her facial expressions and her reactions, weighing up her potential to participate in La Contessa's more refined exotic play. The girl can certainly take some punishment but it's hard to judge if she's taking it because she has to or because she genuinely desires it. La Contessa will want more than a passive vehicle for abuse like the crude merchant; she will want a slave who is willing and open, who will be prepared to explore all the sadistic fantasies that La Contessa can offer her.
Having taken his pleasure the merchant sits the girl up with her back against the wall of the cell, he lifts her arms, spreads them out and chains her to the wall and then spreads her legs and locks them to rings set in the floor.
"I'll be back to take some more pleasure from you later," he threatens.
It's at this point that La Contessa decides to intervene. She pushes the door open and strides imperiously into the cell. La Contessa towers over the merchant, filling the small room with all her feminine power and beauty. The merchant is startled. Before he can respond La Contessa proclaims her intentions.
"You have a very pliable young girl there. I am looking for just such a girl for my own household. I will offer you good money for her."
The Syrian's brown eyes light up at the word money but he is too experienced a haggler to sound too eager.
"She's my sex slave now. She belongs to me. Why should I give up my slut-bitch to you?"
"I will offer you a good price for her."
"How much?"
"Four silver soldi."
"No, six."
"No, four. Come, with four silver soldi in your pocket you can fuck every whore from here to Damascus five times over and still have change."
"No, six," insists the merchant.
"I will offer you five. Besides she's damaged goods. It's a good price and you know it. If you carry on like that she'll be worth nothing. Even fully fit you'd only get one soldi for her at the slave market. Five is my final offer."
The merchant pretends to ponder for a little while but they both know he doesn't want to lose the sale.
"OK, mysterious masked lady, you have a deal."
"Excellent, my servant will return with the money and collect the girl this evening. It's been good business for me."
"Likewise for me, Madame," says the merchant as he takes La Contessa's hand and plants a kiss on it.
She bristles, pulls her hand away, and throws him a disdainful look before sweeping out of the cell. Her look throughout the brief negotiations for the girl was inscrutable and I am amazed that she would hand over five silver soldi to the creepy Syrian. Against my better judgement my curiosity gets the better of me.
"But mistress, are you really going to give that rat five soldi?"
"Idiot of a servant. Do you think I would hand over good money to a worthless serpent like that. I want the girl. I'm very interested in the girl. She has potential. But, I'm not paying five soldi for her. Take my signet ring and go to the procurator of the Sestiere dei Cannaregio and demand on my behalf that he send constables to arrest him. I have plans for him. You will go with them. Say the girl has been stolen from me and then bring her back to my palace for me to deal with."
I smile; how foolish of me to doubt La Contessa's determination and ingenuity.
"Yes, of course mistress. It will be a pleasure."
xxxxxxxxxx
La Contessa is waiting in her throne room; at her feet is one of her slaves on all fours being used as her foot stool, naked save for a leather hood.
I beckon the girl into La Contessa's chamber. She looks forlorn and bedraggled; her hair is a tussle of fair waves and her bodice and skirt are rough and torn. She has scratches on her cheek, bruises on her upper arm, sore marks around her neck, wrists and ankles where the iron shackles have been and welt marks all over her, all the results of her abuse at the hands of the Syrian merchant. But La Contessa has seen past her battered body and unkempt appearance and recognises the potential in her.
La Contessa rises up, pushes her slave onto the floor with her booted feet, steps onto him, pauses for a few moments as the man gasps trying to take the full weight of her with the sharp heels of her boots digging into his back before stepping down off him. Two deep indentations are left in the servant's back. She comes forward a few paces, her penetrating blue eyes appraising the girl.
"What's your name girl?" She asks.
"Kimberley, Madame, but I'm known as Kim."
"Kim, that's a strange name."
"It's foreign Madame. I'm from England."
They stand facing each other, La Contessa still in her sumptuous indigo gown and the girl Kim, in tattered rags as if she had been dragged through the alleys of Venice. The one is imperious; the other is forlorn, but with a quiet air of dignified resilience. La Contessa runs her painted fingers sensuously down the girl's face and gently straightens a few strands of tousled yellow hair.
"She's very lovely," La Contessa says, turning to face me. "I love her fair hair and pale skin. It's so unusual to see such a complexion even in a cosmopolitan city like Venice. My companions will love her; I think they will be attracted to her peach like complexion. When she is bathed and dressed by my maids I think her underlying beauty will shine for all to appreciate. Tell me girl, how is that you find yourself in Venice."
"It's a long tale Madame, but I will try to be as brief as I can. I once served a master back in Norfolk in England. I submitted to him dutifully and he dominated me like a true master but he lost all his money when the wool trade collapsed and he sold me to a German merchant from the Hanseatic League. Much of his trade was through Venice and he brought me here with him as his sex slave but, just a few days ago, he bet me as a stake in a game of dice to a Syrian merchant and lost. The Syrian was even crueller and abused me terribly, as you have seen."
"I hear that you are submissive, yet you speak of your abuse as if it were a trial for you?" La Contessa queries.
"This is true, but yet the German and Syrian did not truly dominate and control me Madame, they just used me abusively," Kim replies.
La Contessa nods quietly to herself.
"Well spoken girl. Yes, there are but a few men who understand what it is to truly dominate. They think that beating a girl up and raping her is sadism. They are wrong, true sadism is an art form. Don't you agree slave?" she asks turning towards me.
"Oh yes mistress," I concur enthusiastically, "and you are its most skilled proponent."
La Contessa curls her red lips into a smile.
"To be a true sadist you must have the artistry of a painter, the perception of a mind reader and," she let out a wicked little laugh, "a cruel and twisted imagination. It is not brutal, it is subtle and refined. It takes a special person to possess it and, I think, a particular kind of submissive to receive it and really appreciate it. Are you that kind of person Kim?"
At this La Contessa runs her hands down Kim's neck and pulls her ripped bodice apart so her breasts are exposed. She runs the tips of scarlet fingernails across the pale flesh of her breasts and takes a nipple between her fingers. The two women look into each other's eyes. La Contessa squeezes the soft buds of Kim's nipples between her hard nails. Kim expels a gasp of air and the slightest shudder ripples through her body but she does not flinch for one second and her eyes remain fixed on La Contessa. She takes Kim's other nipple between her nails and squeezes them both simultaneously. I have been subjected to this treatment myself. I know how sharp La Contessa's nails are, I know how painful it feels when she squeezes nipples so tightly. I watch on fascinated. La Contessa is testing the girl and she, for her part, is showing her what she is capable of taking. Her eyes have glazed over with the effort of enduring the pain but they are still locked onto La Contessa's.
"Do you know what it means to serve me girl?"
"No, Madame," Kim whispers.
"I am an exacting Mistress. I am cruel and capricious. I expect my servants to obey my every word without question. I demand a lot from them. The nature of my household is, how should I say, bizarre and perverted. Yet for those that genuinely give themselves up to me and embrace their servitude the rewards are great. Isn't that so slave?"
"Oh, most definitely Mistress," I reply with feeling.
La Contessa, still gripping Kim's nipples tightly with her nails, twists them suddenly and firmly. The girl's eyes flicker momentarily but then stare dreamily back into La Contessa's.
"Do you still desire to serve me?"
"Yes Madame. Yes please Madame, I do. Very much."
"I don't accept just anybody into my household. There must be a test, an initiation, to see if you are truly worthy to serve me. You have passed one little examination but this will be a far more strenuous challenge. Do you still want to go ahead?."
"Yes please Madame."
La Contessa finally releases Kim's nipples. They are reddened and sore and I can see the deep impressions La Contessa's nails have made in the soft flesh.
"Very well, I will make the plans for your initiation ceremony. Julia," she calls to her personal maid. "This girl desires to join my household. As you can see she is in a poor state. I want you to look after her. Run her a bath and put some rose water into it. I will have her smelling like the old fashioned English garden. Find some salve for her cuts and bruises. Then find something suitable to dress her in. Report back to me on her progress, I want her ready for me a week from today. You will bring her back as my little rosy faced, fair haired submissive girl dressed for her initiation into the perversions of the world of La Contessa."
With these ominous words La Contessa dismisses the girl and myself from her presence with a wave of her hand.
xxxxxxxxxx
I wait for La Contessa underneath the portico at the entrance to her palace which overlooks the Grand Canal. Hers is one of the grandest palaces in Venice reflecting La Contessa's wealth and social standing. Its frontage was remodelled earlier in the 18th century to create an elegant façade. An imposing stair case fans out before me down to the canal side. Kim is by my side having been bathed and dressed by La Contessa's maids. She is wearing a crisp white sleeveless cotton bodice laced tightly so that her fulsome breasts are lifted up to show them off in all their soft milky magnificence. I can see her breasts swelling up and down with every breath that she takes. Her skirt is decorated with a bright rustic floral pattern. Her lips have been painted a subtle pink and her cheeks with the merest touch of rouge to set off her pale skin. The knots have been combed out of her fair hair which tumbles in waves down to her shoulders and she smells fragrant. I can see La Contessa's vision for Kim; she has been re-cast for her as a fresh and innocent peasant girl dressed in her finest clothes for some special occasion. She is lovely. At the sight of her I have to control the swelling that is rising up in my cock. I daren't let La Contessa see any traces of an erection or I know I will be in for a severe punishment. She looks calm and serene now but I wonder if she knows what she has let herself in for. I have experience of La Contessa's bizarre and wicked imagination and know that the ordeal she will devise for this night will be a challenging one for the girl.
I can hear a bustle of activity behind me as La Contessa, with a coterie of attendants, sweeps through the grand marbled entrance hall of her palace. As always La Contessa looks stunning. She is wearing a low-cut silk gown in bright scarlet with matching silk gloves. Over her shoulders is a huge hooded cloak, also in scarlet. Her black hair is combed long and loose tonight. She wears a magnificent pair of knee length boots designed in soft Italian leather with real silver buckles, white silk laces and long stiletto heels capped with pure silver. I reflect on much I desire to kneel at her feet and worship her. Her attire is finished with an ornate red mask to match her dress and decorated with long plumes of feathers in red, orange, yellow and gold. She looks wonderful, like she really is a phoenix rising out of the flames.
She looks across at Kim and her red lips curl into a smile of satisfaction. One of the attendants puts a black cape over Kim's shoulders to keep her warm from the chill on the crisp spring night and then a mask of peacock feathers over her eyes.
"You look lovely my dear. You look and smell like an English rose, all fresh and innocent, but ready to be picked," she added ominously. "You know you must give in to me completely and submit to whatever plans I have made for you. I trust you are ready for your trial. Are you nervous girl?"
"Yes, Madame, but I am still willing to submit to you."
"Good, that is how it should be. Now we must go."
La Contessa puts an arm through Kim's and they step down the staircase together to the waiting gondola moored at the foot of the grand entrance to the palazzo. It is my task to accompany them both tonight and transport them to La Contessa's secret destination. Her gondola of black lacquered wood with fittings of solid gold is a magnificent vessel, as befitting her wealth and status. La Contessa takes up her position on silk cushions under the ornate gilded 'felce', a small gazebo like structure in the centre of the gondola, fitted with curtains of red and gold damask tied back so La Contessa can be admired by all. Night has descended and the gondola is lit with lanterns hung from the 'felce' that illuminate La Contessa. Kim sits opposite her whilst I take up the oar at the stern of the boat. I push the flat bottomed vessel gracefully into the Grand Canal.
After we have been rowing for a few minutes, and whilst in full view of the crowds lining the Grand Canal, La Contessa gestures for Kim to come forward. She seductively parts her scarlet cloak so that the leather of her boots is exposed. No words are exchanged between them. Kim knows instinctively what she has to do. She gets down on her knees before La Contessa and starts to lick her boots. She runs her tongue across the sole of the boot and then takes the silver tipped heel into her mouth and sucks. She kisses the toe of La Contessa's boot and then runs her lips up its length cleaning the silver eyelets with delicate flicks of her tongue. I can see everything whilst steering the gondola and feel myself getting aroused. I also feel a twinge of jealousy; how I wish it was me at La Contessa's feet, licking her soft Italian leather boots.
This is the city of my birth and I still marvel at its splendour. It is never more beautiful than at night time when the candle light from the magnificent palaces that line the Grand Canal reflect on the water so that ripples of light appear to dance on its surface. The Venetians are out in great numbers in all their finery. I can hear the bustle of street traders around Ponte Rialto and the mouth watering smells of food vendors plying their trade. This is my city and I love it, love the fact that I serve La Contessa and am honoured she has chosen me to carry her along the canals of Venice on this special task. In my heart I feel the girl Kim will not let her down. The gondola glides under Ponte dei Sospiri and soon after La Contessa gives orders to turn the gondola into the network of narrow canals in the Sestiere Santa Croce. It is nine o'clock at night and the bells from the hundreds of churches of Venice peal in unison all across the city. I sense the bells are tolling for the sinister fate that awaits the girl.
The lanes in this part are less well lit and the buildings close darkly in on the narrow canals. This is another aspect of Venice I love; its narrow canals, its winding lanes, places where you can get lost and places where there are dark secrets. We are gliding down just such an area, the atmosphere dark and oppressive, the buildings looming over us. La Contessa directs me to turn left and points for me to navigate the gondola towards a small landing stage. I notice a sign by the side of the iron gates above the stone steps, 'Palazzo dei Sadismo' it reads and I know we have reached our destination and that it is here the girl's ordeal will begin.
I reach out my hand and assist La Contessa from her reclining position on the cushions of the gondola. She leads the way up a short flight of steps with Kim following her and me at the rear. I can feel the tension in Kim's body as she climbs the steps to meet her fate. It's a sensation I know only too well from those occasions when I have been summoned into La Contessa's presence; a tingling fear of the unknown mixed with excitement and anticipation. I wonder if she saw the inscription on the building, "Palazzo dei Sadismo" and understood its meaning.
There is an iron grille at the top of the steps within which is set a gate that has been left unlocked and which La Contessa opens, its hinges creaking ominously. We enter a vast stone room with a vaulted ceiling, which had perhaps in the past been used as a wine cellar or store room, but which now is undoubtedly being used for more sinister purposes. La Contessa is an exacting mistress and expects everything to be perfect; she has no doubt sent forward instructions as to how she wants the room set out as it has already been prepared for her.
In the centre of the chamber there are four huge wrought iron candle sticks arranged on the floor in a square, two of them either side of a wooden frame that has been fixed to the floor and by its side a large wooden chest. The glowing church candles cast a gloomy and atmospheric glow over the vaulted chamber; its flickering light casting shadows across the stone ceiling. The light does not penetrate into corners of the large stone room but as my eyes adjust to the dimness I can see the hazy outline of other pieces of metal furniture, equipment designed for torture I am sure, perhaps recovered from the torture chambers of Venice's medieval past or more recently from the counter reformation and the resurgent power of the Jesuits. I am reminded that Venice has not always been the liberated city state of this enlightened century. The outline of the equipment is indistinct in the gloom but it is clear the room has been set up as a place of torture.
I can see that the girl is spellbound as an awed hush permeates the room. The only sound is the click of La Contessa's silver tipped heels on the stone floor as it echoes menacingly around the chamber. The vaulted ceiling is supported by a row of pillars and on the pillar directly opposite the wooden frame there is a short, fat bearded man tied. It comes as no surprise to me that this is the Syrian merchant who misused the girl as it was me who La Contessa used as intermediary with the procurator of the Sestiere dei Cannaregio to arrange his arrest and his subsequent transfer into the hands of La Contessa. Her power and influence in the city is great and, with the offer of a small gift and the promise of an invitation to one of La Contessa's famous balls to partake of their perverted pleasures, he was easily persuaded to do her bidding.
The Syrian has been skilfully tied, his whole body covered in a criss-cross pattern of black ropes and an elaborate arrangement of knots pulled so tightly that I can see the rope burn marks on his wrists and ankles from struggling too much. He is also gagged with a ball gag made of a wooden ball covered in leather and secured with leather straps. On La Contessa's appearance he struggles to shout abuse at her but all that comes out is a muffled noise. If this is not the work of La Contessa herself, who I know is an expert at rope bondage; it is of a skilled practitioner of the art.
I can see that Kim looks fearful at the presence of the Syrian merchant.
"Yes, it is I who have arranged for your tormentor to be here," announces La Contessa, "don't you trust your new mistress girl?"
Kim stands quietly and obediently, her arms behind her back, her breaths short and shallow. She relaxes her body, which bristled with tension at the sight of her abuser, and gives an affirmative nod.
Then La Contessa turns to me and says, "Servant, you will not be required to participate in the events of the night but I do want you to observe. And I don't expect to see you getting aroused at any of the sights. You are here to witness only, do you understand? You know what punishments I can inflict if I think you are getting pleasure when all I need is your service. It occurs to me that perhaps you could write a little account of the proceedings for me. Who knows, if it amuses me, there might even be a little reward for you."
"Yes mistress, of course," I reply enthusiastically.
La Contessa's painted fingernails pull gently on the cords of Kim's bodice, slowly loosening the laces until with one final pull the bodice parts and the girl's beautiful breasts are released. La Contessa runs a finger gently across the soft curve of her flesh and around her pert nipples, which are standing erect. Kim expels a little gasp of pleasure. La Contessa pulls the bodice off her shoulder and lets it drop to the floor. The tension of the moment is palpable; I am witnessing the subtle interplay between the dominant Contessa and her offering, her submissive girl. La Contessa squeezes her finger underneath the waist band of Kim's skirt and runs it gently along her midriff brushing the soft hairs over her sex before finding the hook that is holding the skirt up. As La Contessa releases it, the skirt slowly slips over Kim's hips and drops to the floor. On La Contessa's instruction no doubt, the girl is not wearing any underwear. Kim quietly steps out of the skirt that has fallen around her ankles and kicks off her shoes. La Contessa brushes her pubic hairs with the back of her hand and sends tingle of pleasure rippling through her body.
"She's perfect, isn't she?" La Contessa asks, turning to me.
"Yes mistress, she's lovely."
Indeed she is wonderfully lovely. La Contessa's maids have done a good job. The welt marks on her back-side, the sores on her ankles and wrists from the shackles, the cuts and bruises on her face and breasts have all healed. Her pale skin glows in the candle light and she is fragrant with the smell of the rose water she has bathed in.
La Contessa manoeuvres Kim into the position she wants her and the girl quietly complies with every touch and unspoken command as my mistress raises each arm in turn and ties her wrists onto hooks on the wooden frame with black rope and again as she pulls her ankles and spreads her legs, which are also tied to the wooden frame. Kim is now helpless and completely in La Contessa's control.
La Contessa goes back to the wooden chest and pulls some objects out. She walks back to the Syrian merchant, the clicking of the silver heels on the stone floor gaining in menace with every step. She dangles some metal objects before the merchant's eyes. Although they are clearly some kind of clamp I have never seen anything like them before. She stares into the merchant's eyes, her powerful feminine presence, the gentle swelling of her breasts above the scarlet silk gown and the smell of her scent all conspire to overwhelm him into submission. La Contessa's voice is low and full of menace.
"These are my newest toy. I know a trader of silks from China who, being aware of my special predilections, told me of these and I asked him to bring them back for me. Ahh, the Orient" she sighs wistfully, "now there's a place where they know something about torture. Perhaps one day I shall travel there and refine my art. But, in the meantime, I have these. They're called clover clamps and they are ingenious little things. When they close on your nipples they will hurt but then they will tighten with every touch so that, when a cord is attached to them, all I have to do is flick it," and she demonstrates by flicking the merchant's nipple with her finger nail, "and it will increase the pain. So, what do you think of that?"
She is playing with him and relishing every moment of it. She is in her element, teasing with cruel words and suggestions. The look on the merchant's face is one of sheer terror but all he can do is grunt into his gag. La Contessa squeezes one end of the metal clamp and the other opens up. She stares into his eyes as she holds the metal object directly in front of him before moving it down and releasing it onto his nipple. There is a grunt of agonised pain through the gag. She does the same for his other nipple. La Contessa deftly ties pieces of thin cord to the ends of the clamps and steps back to her new slave girl, each purposeful click of her heels taking her nearer.
Now she faces the girl and wordlessly opens the clamp and holds it in front of her. From the shadows in the stone room I watch Kim's reaction intently. She stares at the sinister metal object transfixed. With her other hand La Contessa plays with her nipple, stroking it, digging her nails in, squeezing and twisting it. Finally, she pulls her hand down and releases the clamp on the girl's nipple. I notice Kim's body tense and her lips expel a little gasp of air just at the moment the clamp tightens on her nipple and then, after the initial shock, her body relaxes into the pain. I look on enthralled. I know these clamps to be severe instruments capable of inflicting exquisite levels of pain yet the girl has taken them unquestioningly. I know La Contessa will be pleased with her. She repeats the process with a second clamp on Kim's other nipple.
She takes the cord in her hand and jerks it hard making the merchant squirm in pain before tying it to the clamps attached to Kim. La Contessa laughs. I too, from my place in the shadows, smile at this ingenious piece of invention. The cord is taut between the slave girl and her former tormentor. La Contessa pulls the cord, just lightly at first, and the clamps close tightly on the two sets of nipples. She takes hold of the cord in her hand and pulls hard. The merchant lets out a muffled scream into his gag. Kim is silent, her eyes glazed into the effort of embracing the pain. La Contessa turns to the merchant.
"Do you see how the girl is stronger than you? Do you see how the girl can take the pain without whimpering?"
She takes out a leather thonged whip from the chest and begins to strike the merchant's cock and balls with powerful harsh strokes. His body pulls and twitches from within its rope restraints, which only causes the clamps to dig more tightly and also to send a ripple along the taut cord that pulls on the girl's nipples.
La Contessa laughs wickedly at their predicament.
"Don't you see how you are two slaves joined in pain and punishment. Each movement you make will cause the other to suffer."
This time she whips the merchant on the nipples, directly on the clamps, and once again he lets out muffled screams of pain. La Contessa turns to Kim and whips her right across her cunt. Her body jerks in reaction to the stroke. But Kim appreciates the game. She knows that every movement of her body will send a ripple down the taut cord and inflict pain on the merchant. She can also see that her acceptance and resilience is far greater than his and through her pain she can make the merchant suffer more. With each stroke of the whip she jiggles her voluptuous breasts and sends a surge of pain down the cord. La Contessa finds this hilarious. She is laughing out loud wickedly as she continues the play alternately whipping one of them or pulling on the tight cord to inflict the maximum torment, though it is the Syrian merchant who suffers the most.
"I could do this all night," she smiles to herself, "but there are many more torments I need to administer before the night is out. Servant, you can untie him now."
She pulls the nipple clamps off the girl first and then off the merchant but cannot resist the temptation of one final sharp tweak with her fingernails. I do as La Contessa has commanded unravelling the complex arrangement of knots. My youthful and muscular physique would always have been too much for the overweight Syrian but in his current state he is in no position to offer up any resistance. Once the ropes are released I drag him across the cold stone floor to the position La Contessa wants. He is soon lying on the floor his face directly below Kim's sweetie, his wrists tied to the bottom of the wooden frame and his ankles to a set of wooden spreader bars.
La Contessa stands over him. She is a magnificent sight and I almost feel envious of the merchant in that position staring up at La Contessa's voluptuous curves a stunning presence in her figure hugging scarlet silk gown. La Contessa shed her red cloak long ago and now her slender arms and shoulders are bare. She still wears the mask though, the bright fiery colours a contrast to her dark beauty. What a wonderful sight for the merchant, one that he hardly deserves. Once again I am trying to resist the swelling in my cock.
La Contessa rests one of her boots on the merchant's chest. The shiny black leather and the glittering silver buckles are placed under his very nose. She raises the silver tipped heel over his sore and tormented nipples and presses down hard putting the full weight of her body down on the nipple. The Syrian grunts in anguish. She runs the sharp silver down his chest and across his stomach leaving a long red scratch. Finally, she rests the silver tip on the end of the Syrian's cock, which lies flaccid and exposed on the stone floor. She presses hard, releases for a moment, and then presses even harder. The merchant's body jerks up and down his body twisting with the pain and pulling on the restraints on his ankles and wrists. I can see spittle oozing from the side of the ball gag as he tries to scream. La Contessa is not finished yet though. She continues digging the sharp silver heels into his balls and then his cock again. Kim looks down into his face and witnesses his torment and humiliation.
La Contessa turns to me and gives me an instruction to undo the ball gag. As the leather covered ball is finally pulled from the merchant's aching jaws he starts to spew out angry words in his native tongue. La Contessa turns on him, her eyes fiery with anger.
"Shut up. I don't want to hear anything form you or it will end up very badly for you. What you have experienced so far is a mere fraction of what I am capable of. You will suffer in silence. Let it be known that La Contessa will extract her retribution from worthless males like you. There is one final act of humiliation I need to witness before I banish you from my presence."
She gently strokes Kim's sweetie and gazes into her eyes.
"Slave girl, this is your final act of retribution on your abuser. I think you understand what I need you to do."
Kim nods. At first it is just a trickle of water as she starts to release her piss over him but soon it is a gushing torrent of hot water form her body, which covers his black beard and trickles into his mouth. It's as if Kim has been saving it all up, holding it in her bladder, knowing the use that her golden waters will be put to. When the girl's piss has been emptied all over her tormentor's head La Contessa finally looks satisfied.
"Now servant, I want you to take this one away. I have finished with him. There is a cell at the end of the dungeon. You can lock him in there until he can be returned to the custody of the procurator." Turning to the girl, La Contessa proclaims, "Now, my girl it is all about you, about your initiation to see if you are fit to become my slave girl. I've extracted retribution on your behalf from your abuser and I'm pleased with how you have acquitted yourself but there are more ordeals for you to face before I can fully admit you into La Contessa's world."
"Yes Madame, I understand Madame. I'm ready tosubmit to you."
Whilst La Contessa is exchanging these words with Kim I take the merchant, his wrists tied together, and lead him away to the cell. When I return La Contessa is putting a blindfold of white silk over Kim's eyes and over her peacock feathered mask.
"Can you see girl?" she asks.
"No, Madame," Kim replies, breathless and nervous.
La Contessa gestures for me to stand quietly in the shadows as she retreats into the darkness at the end of the chamber. The gloomy candle-lit room descends into silence. I cannot tell if Kim is aware of my presence but I am aware of the tension building up in her as she waits; waits for some unknown trial. We both stand there in hushed silence, Kim on the wooden frame, me in the dark shadows, for perhaps an hour, maybe more. The sense of anticipation is great for me and I am only an observer, it must be overwhelming for poor Kim stretched out in blackness, waiting.
I hear the click of silver tipped heels on stone again. La Contessa is returning. There are black shadowy figures following her, four of them, all dressed in tight fitting black suits that show off the contours of their well formed male physiques. They are all wearing elbow length black silk gloves. Each is also wearing an animal mask – a lion, a zebra, a chimpanzee and a jackal. Once again I am astounded by La Contessa's inimitable sense of theatre. La Contessa circles Kim speechlessly but her presence fills the room and the sound of metal on stone echoes around the chamber building up the tension. The black masked figures are silent and Kim cannot be aware of them.
One of the mysterious masked figures, the jackal, gently runs his silk glove across Kim's shoulder and down her arm. I am watching intently and her reaction is astonishing. You would have thought she had received a stroke from a cane not the merest brush of a silk glove on her bare flesh. All the pent up anticipation had left Kim in a state of wild agitation. She must have been expecting the worse so the merest touch triggered an extreme reaction in her.
I can see La Contessa smiling to herself, pleased at the reaction her mind games have elicited from Kim. Soon there were silk covered gloves running all over Kim's naked body; on her back, across her arse, up her thighs, across her stomach and over her swelling breasts. It is a sensual overload for her as she sighs and moans contentedly. She must know that pain will follow but for now she is wallowing in the sensuous touch, knowing that the severe torment is at least delayed. A hand runs over her pubic hairs, it runs silken fingers across her cunt. Kim moans. Silken fingers are inserted into her sopping cunt, first one, then two and then a third and are gently manipulated inside her. Kim gasps. Gentle hands run over her back side and a finger is inserted into her tight little arse hole. Kim groans.
It's at this moment, with hands all over her and inside her, that La Contessa chooses to reveal the shadowy figures toying with her. She pulls the end of the white silk of the blindfold and lets it float gently to the floor. Kim looks around her bemused, disorientated. A lion's mask is in front of her, a jackal is on its knees at her crotch pushing fingers into her, at her shoulder with hands on her heaving breasts is a chimpanzee and behind her she can catch a glimpse of the zebra with silk gloved finger in her arse and another hand running across her back-side. La Contessa steps back admiring her creation and smiling. The tempo of the movements increases; a second finger is thrust into her arse. Her senses are in overload, her body is tensing, building up eagerly for an orgasm and some release but the hands keep her hanging on the edge.
Suddenly, before Kim gets the release she is desperately yearning for, fingers are withdrawn from her orifices and hands removed. It's like they have sensed some elemental danger and their instincts are warning them of some impending threat and their victim, Kim, has to be left, strung out to face this new presence.
I have been concentrating so much on the shadowy animal-masked figures and Kim's reactions that I too have failed to notice another figure emerge from the darkness behind the girl. Black cloaked, leather gloved, wide black rimmed hat and finally, a white mask, its visage an upturned sinister grin. A leather gauntlet closes over Kim's nose and mouth. She is shocked. She has not been aware of the shadowy figure that has sneaked up behind her. She can see La Contessa before her, no longer smiling, but severe and serious and realises that there is another presence in the room. She struggles for breath as the hand closes tightly around her gasping for every morsel of air that she can suck from between the gloved fingers. Kim is at the point of expiring when the hand is taken away and she can draw in a long deep draught of fresh air.
"La Contessa, it's always a pleasure to receive you as a guest in my dungeon. You know how much I admire your bizarre and exotic imagination."
La Contessa smiles appreciatively at the compliment.
"Il Padrino, you know how much I enjoy the use of your dungeon and sharing in our pleasure of the sadistic arts."
"La Contessa, this is obviously the girl you spoke of who needs initiating. Do you think she is ready and willing?"
La Contessa nods, "Yes, I believe so. I think she is naturally submissive and can be trained to be my slave girl. Kim, you have come this far on a journey, you will not let me down now that you face the final stage of your initiation?"
"No Madame. No, I promise I won't."
"You see, Il Padrino, her answer comes from the heart. I think she is ready."
The dark figure emerges from behind Kim.
"Girl, this is a partner of mine in the arts of domination, Il Padrino, or The Master, as I believe you might say in your native tongue," La Contessa announces before turning to the mysterious cloaked figure. "She is lovely isn't she? Marvel at her pale skin like delicate porcelain, like a little antique doll ready for us to play with."
"Yes, so fresh and innocent and fragrant."
"You should have seen her earlier when she was dressed as an English country rose. But, she's not so innocent; she's been rescued by me from abuse and savagery by a crude and ignorant male who does not understand our skill and art."
La Contessa and her companion Il Padrino work together to untie Kim from the wooden frame. They steady her as she adjusts her body weight to a standing position. La Contessa's attention to detail and artistry at creating her scenes is evident as Kim stands before them, la Contessa in her sleek scarlet silk gown and Il Padrino, all in black save for the unsettling white mask with its lurid grin.
Il Padrino pulls Kim's arms behind her back and starts to bind her wrists together with long strands of silky black rope, twisting it two or three times around her slender white wrists and then pulling and knotting tightly. He starts to twist the remaining portions of rope up her arms. Kim remains passive and compliant, allowing him to bind her tightly without a murmer of complaint or resistance. As Il Padrino kneels to work on her legs La Contess threads a piece of rope under Kim's breasts and draws it under her bound arms and across her back where it is knotted tightly. Mistress and Master work silently and skilfully with concentration, each knowing what the other is doing, both working together to put the girl into a complete and tight restraint. La Contessa draws two long pieces of rope from behind Kim's back and pull's them between her breasts and then over her shoulders pulling hard on the rope as she does. Meanwhile Il Padrino, kneeling at her feet, ties her ankles together and winds the remaining lengths of rope tightly round her legs up to the soft milky flesh of her things, supporting the weight of her body as he goes.
I gaze into Kim's eyes from the shadows and see a whole range of emotions in them; fear, anticipation, acceptance and excitement are all there as she relinquishes control to the two dominant figures, one female and one male. La Contessa and Il Padrino finish their work. The girl is bound from toe to neck in a criss-cross pattern of black ropes. Las Contessa's work on her breasts is especially artistic as an intricate pattern of ropes surrounds them and has been pulled tight so that her bosoms stand out tight and bright red with the tension of the ropes. Her breasts will so sensitive to touch now.
La Contessa reassures her, "Are you alright girl? Are your ready to go further?"
"Mmmm, yes Mistress," Kim replies dreamily.
Il Padrino ties more ropes onto the knots at her back and threads them into the hooks at the top of the wooden frame. As they both let go of Kim Il Padrino pulls the rope supporting Kim and her body is pulled into the air, her back suspended by the rope tied around her arms.
She whimpers, "Oh, please, no."
La Contessa reassures her, stroking he face as Kim hangs at an angle her feet barely touching the ground.
"Trust, you must learn complete trust in your Mistress. Let your body go girl and your whole being will drift into the experience."
Kim nods quietly. She releases the tension in her body, lets the weight of her body go and allows the ropes to support her. More ropes are thread around her back and her ankles. Il Padrino pulls the rope pulley he has created within the frame and Kim's body lifts into the air so that she is completely suspended, supported only by the ropes. Her body rocks and sways gently as Il Padrino steps back to admire his work; a naked body given up to bondage, entwined in black ropes with only a rosy skinned arse exposed.
La Contessa stands in front of Kim, their looks respectively dominant and submissive. The blues eyes behind the phoenix mask of fiery red, orange, yellow and gold silk and feathers gaze into the cool blue, green and turquoise feathers of the peacock mask. Two exotic birds locked into a bizarre exchange of power and control as one surrenders herself to the other.
"How do you feel girl?" La Contessa asks gently stroking her face.
Kim can barely utter a word so absorbed is she in the world of bondage into which she has been placed.
Finally she whispers, "Good. It feels right Madame, to be tied and bound. I can't explain but, it feels good to surrender myself to you Madame."
"Yes girl, I know it is. I understand. It's where you belong, isn't it? You know you must also suffer for me if you desire to offer yourself completely."
"Yes Madame, I know."
Il Padrino moves alongside La Contessa.
"Is she ready to be punished now?"
"Yes, she is ready," replies La Contessa.
Il Padrino holds a flogger with long leather flails, but at its end of its handle is a golden lion, the symbol of Venice.
"Kiss the implement of your punishment girl," he says as he puts the gilded handle to Kim's lips.
Kim, still swaying suspended on the wooden frame reaches her head forward to gently touch the golden lion with her lips. Il Padrino runs the leather thongs of the flogger across her masked eyes and down her cheeks. Without the need for any order Kim instinctively knows what she must do as she touches the strands of leather with her lips.
"How many strokes should we give her?" he asks, "I think a round hundred would be good."
Kim's eyes widen to the size of saucers as she hears this proposal and she lets out the merest whimper of protest.
La Contessa laughs, "You think you can't take a hundred; one day you will for your Mistress girl. Cruel though I am, even I think that might be a little excessive for an initiation. Tell me girl, how many strokes do you want?"
Kim goes silent for a moment as she contemplates her answer. I can guess what's going through her mind. It's a loaded question; choose too many and she will inflict a punishment on herself that she may not endure; choose too few and the Mistress and Master may not be satisfied it is enough and, perhaps, even insist on the full hundred. I know how La Contessa's mind works. Kim announces her decision in a clear voice.
"I will accept whatever Mistress decides I must receive."
La Contessa laughs again, "Excellent girl, you learn very quickly. Then I declare that you should take fifty strokes, forty with the flogger and the last ten with a cane, but don't expect any restraint with the force of the strokes and there will be no mercy given even if you plead. La Contessa has chosen and you must submit to her judgement."
"Yes Mistress, of course Mistress."
Il Padrino runs the leather gently across Kim's back side, which stick out invitingly from her suspended position. The first stroke hits with a lound slap that echoes around the dungeon. The Master is true to La Contessa's warning; it's a powerful stroke that's delivered. The girl lets out a grunt of pain and her body rocks in the rope swing with the force of the stroke. Will she be able to endure fifty of these? The next four strokes come down building up in power with each successive stroke.
"How many's that girl?" Contessa asks.
"Five," Kim whispers through gritted teeth.
Il Padrino gives her a short rest and gently runs his hand across Kim's arse, following the red marks he has made on her flesh with his finger. Kim moans with pleasure from the little respite she has been given. He delivers the next five strokes in quick succession. The punishment is heavy and I can see in the girl's eyes that she is suffering. Her breathing is heavy and she expels little grunts with each stroke but does not flinch or plead for mercy. La Contessa takes up the flogger now. It's her turn to administer the girl's punishment. The ornate flogger rests comfortably in her experienced hands. She fits the role of the severe dominatrix perfectly. The golden lion on the handle rests in her hand and reflects the colours of her mask and scarlet silk of her gown. The thongs of the flogger dangle menacingly against her silver buckled boots.
She puts her mouth to Kim's ears and whispers, "Your new Mistress will deliver the next ten strokes."
Kim mumbles an acknowledgement. If she thinks she will get any respite from La Contessa's hand then she will be sorely mistaken. She is skilled in this art and can deliver a stroke as hard as any male. The flogger strikes Kim's back-side hard three times. I can see the soft flesh of her arse wobble with the force of the stroke and her bound body sway back and forth. I feel myself getting aroused from watching the spectacle. The sound of the flogger on flesh, her little moans and whimpers and the sight of her beautiful rounded arse in the air receiving this punishment has given me a hard-on underneath my breeches. La Contessa glances across at me knowingly. She misses nothing and I know that when we return to the palace there will be my own reckoning to face for this lapse.
I can see Kim is going deep into herself and her own ordeal of pain and pleasure. The force of the strokes combined with the rocking of the suspension takes her into a dream like state as she prepares herself to receive each new stroke. The punishment continues; the stinging whack of the flogger interspersed with the occasional gentle stroke of La Contessa's or Il Padrino's hand on her throbbing arse. By the fortieth stroke with the flogger her back side is glowing red and imprinted with darker lines where the implement has created a deeper impression on her skin.
There is a swishing sound now as Ill Padrino stands in front of Kim wielding the cane. He is a mysterious and magisterial figure in his black cloak, wide rimmed hat and white mask. He offers the cane up to Kim's lips and she kisses its tip. Il Padrino and La Contessa administer five strokes each, all hard and relentless. Kim grunts at each stroke but accepts them bravely. The cane leaves a criss-cross pattern of red lines across her arse. The fifty strokes have been delivered and the girl has survived them.
A heavy silence fills the air. The audience of the four men in animal masks who are still in attendance and myself look on in admiration and respect at the Kim's powers of endurance.
"Well girl, have you anything to say?" La Contessa asks angrily.
Kim has drifted into her own little world and looks confused at being brought back to earth.
"Well!"
A light of realisation switches on in her brain.
"Thank you Mistress. Thank you Master."
"Yes, I should think so too. For forgetting to thank us without being reminded you will be given another five strokes of the cane."
La Contessa sets upon poor Kim with another five heavy strokes. Kim, thinking she had endured the punishment, lets out a squeal with the shock of these extra, unanticipated, strokes. I think these are probably the hardest for her to take.
"Thank you Mistress," she gasps after the final hit; she won't be making that mistake again.
"Good, I am satisfied with what you have taken girl; and you Pardino?"
"Yes, Contessa, I think she has taken her punishment well."
La Contessa signals for me and the chimpanzee masked man to untie Kim's arms and legs and help her down and sends the remaining assistants on another errand. As the two of us untie the carefully constructed arrangement of knots we support Kim's body as we bring her down from the suspension frame. The other men return with another piece of torture equipment; a rack, which they place in the centre of the vaulted room in the middle of the cast iron candlesticks. Surely Kim is not going to have to endure more punishment?
Kim has drifted off into her own sub-space. The movement has still not returned to her legs and she needs to be supported. Il Padrino stands before her. He brushes her bush of fair public hair with his hand and runs fingers across her cunt lips.
"Ooooooh," moans Kim.
"Look, she's wet Contessa. She's sopping. I think she's been aroused by her punishment."
"Is this true girl, are you turned on?" La Contessa enquires.
Il Padrino pushes a second finger into her pussy and moves them both around inside her in a circling motion.
"Oooh, I think I must be," Kim replies guiltily.
"So, you get pleasure from receiving pain?"
"Mmm, yes, I must do Madame."
"Hmm, it's lucky for you that you're not a male slave because I don't tolerate any of them getting sexual pleasure," she tells Kim casting a meaningful glance across at me, "but in a girl slave, well, if you feel aroused, then I can't possibly let you go without letting you get some satisfaction."
La Contessa has a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"Assist her onto the rack," she orders.
We help Kim, now unbound except for the ropes still wrapped tightly around her tits, onto the rack. She lays down and waits for the next stage in her initiation into the world of La Contessa. Leather cuffs are attached to her wrists and ankles and her arms are stretched out onto the rack whilst her legs are stretched out with chains attached to the cuffs and pulled over the wood frame so that her legs are spread up into the air and her wet cunt exposed to view.
The girl is tied to the rack and the four animal masked figures stand beside her, two at either side, with La Contessa and Il Padrino at either end. La Contessa leans over her, her ample cleavage thrust into he face as she first caresses and then gently nips the girl's swollen and reddened breasts. She produces the wicked metal clamps again and closes them around the girl's nipples. Kim simpers with pain. La Contessa goes to each of the masked figures in turn and unbuttons their black suits at the crotch and pulls out four erect penises. The scene is bizarre; Kim spread out on the rack and the dark masked figures, lion, chimpanzee, jackal and zebra now with hard erections sticking out of their shadowy black bodies illuminated by the candle light.
La Contessa gestures and the zebra positions himself between Kim's legs. The zebra's nostrils' lean over her crotch and a sliver of tongue slips out of of the mask as the figure goes down on Kim licking her pussy. He thrusts his tongue inside her licking her sex with fast little flicks of his tongue,
"Oooh, yes, please, yes," moans Kim.
The girl is being driven wild, her body twisting up and down on the rack. La Contessa has other plans for her. She gently pushes Kim's head to one side and firmly holds it in place against the wooden rack. Facing Kim is another hard cock, this one belonging to the jackal. What happens next is inevitable as the rampant hard flesh is threaded between her soft lips. She sucks on the cock enthusiastically. The animal figures take it in turns to pleasure her and take their pleasure from Kim's body. She is stretched out and powerless having surrendered herself into La Contessa's perverted game. They insert black-gloved fingers into Kim's cunt and tug on her clitoris with their lips skilfully keeping her on the edge of ecstasy without letting her come.
Kim's body thrashes wildly on the rack as the four masked beasts inflict their animal yearnings on their helpless victim. I can hear her groaning with pleasure even when her mouth is full of cock. She sucks hard and enthusiastically revelling in the combination of ecstasy and humiliation. The lion pulls his cock from her mouth, its tip glistening with a mixture of his pre-cum and Kim's saliva. La Contessa looks on in amusement at the scene she has created.
"Oh, please make me cum, please," Kim begs.
"But your ordeal isn't finished yet girl."
La Contessa stands by the side of the rack, sticking out from the scarlet silk of her gown is a black leather strap-on, thicker and wider than any of the men's cocks.
"Take it girl," she urges as the object is pushed past her lips into her mouth.
Kim can barely breathe as the strap on fills her mouth and is pushed deeper but she still finds the energy to suck on it determinedly knowing that she must submit to this act of humiliation for her Mistress.
Il Padrino has been watching attentively on the side-lines at the actions of his four apprentices but the moment has come for him to enter the play. He unbuttons his breeches and pulls out is hard cock aroused from watching the treatment Kim has been subjected to. La Contessa withdraws the strap on from Kim's mouth so that she can turn her head and watch as Il Padrino mounts the rack. His black rimmed hat and sinister white mask loom over her as he pushes his rampant cock into her sopping eager cunt.
She groans desperately as she receives her Master's cock and arches her body to take it deeper inside her. Il Padrino starts pounding into her. He is already aroused and Kim has been on the edge of coming for ages. It take only a few minutes of hard thrusts before Kim lets out a scream of ecstasy as the waves of orgasm wash over her. Il Padrino reaches his orgasm soon after her, shooting his cum into her eager cunt. La Contessa releases the clamps from Kim's nipples and she lets out a final gasp of pain and pleasure as blood rushes back to sensitive nerve endings. Kim looks spent and exhausted but there is also a euphoric glaze in her eyes. She is left in silence for a few minutes to recover.
"So, now do you understand what it means to serve La Contessa?"
"Yes Madame."
"You have completed your initiation into my service and I am pleased with how you have acquitted yourself. Are you ready to give yourself up to me?"
"Yes Madame."
"Now that you have offered yourself into submission, know that my true name is Nemesis, the ruler of fate and distributor of justice and retribution. For the purposes of Venetian society I may use the name of La Contessa but my spiritual name is Nemesis. I wanted a slave girl and my command of fate brought me to you. It was Nemesis who rescued from captivity and ignorant brutality for a purpose. You were destined to serve me, my slave girl Kim. Do you believe that?"
"Yes, I do, Mistress Nemesis."
