La Contessa Ch. 14

Author note: this chapter is an edited version of part of my Literotica story 'La Contessa's Slave Girl'.

Chapter 14: Il Padrino

I lead the merchant, his wrists tied together, away to the cell. When I return I find La Contessa putting a blindfold of white silk over Becky's mask.

"Can you see girl?"

"No, madam," she 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 can't tell if Becky is aware of my presence, but I see the tension building up in her as she waits; waits for an unknown trial. We both stand there in hushed silence, Becky on the wooden frame, me in the shadows. The sense of anticipation is great for me, and I'm only an observer, it must be agonising for poor Becky in the darkness, waiting.

I hear the click of heels on stone again. La Contessa returns. Four black shadowy figures follow her, dressed in tight fitting black suits displaying the contours of their well-formed male physiques. They're wearing elbow length black silk gloves. Each of them wears an animal mask: a lion, a zebra, a chimpanzee, and a jackal. Once again I'm in awe of La Contessa's inimitable sense of theatre. She circles Becky speechlessly but her presence fills the room, and the sound of metal on stone echoes around the chamber, building up tension. The black masked figures are silent, and Becky's not even aware of their presence.

One of the mysterious masked figures, the jackal, gently runs his silk glove across Becky's shoulder and down her arm. I watch intently, and her reaction is astonishing. You might have thought she'd received a stroke from a cane, not the merest brush of a silk glove on her bare flesh. The pent up anticipation has left Becky in a state of wild agitation. She must have been expecting the worst, so the merest touch triggers an extreme reaction in her.

La Contessa smiles; pleased at the response her mind games have elicited from Becky. Silk gloves run over Becky's naked body; on her back, across her arse, up her thighs, across her stomach and over her swelling breasts. It's a sensual overload for her as she sighs and moans contentedly. She must know pain will follow, but for now she wallows in the sensuous touch, knowing the severe torment is at least delayed. A hand runs over her pubic hair, it runs silken fingers across her mound. Becky moans. Silken fingers are inserted into her sopping cunt, first one, then two and then a third, and are gently manipulated inside her. Becky gasps. Gentle hands run over her bum cheeks and a finger inserted into her tight arse-hole. Becky groans.

It's at this moment, with hands all over her, and fingers inside her, La Contessa chooses to expose the shadowy figures toying with her. She pulls the end of the white silk of the blindfold letting it float gently to the floor. Becky 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. Whilst behind her she can glimpse the zebra with silk-gloved finger in her arse and hand running across her backside. La Contessa steps back admiring her creation, and smiles. The tempo of the movements increases; a second finger is rammed up her arse. Her senses are in overload; her body tenses as it builds up for orgasm, but the hands keep her hanging on the edge.

Before Becky gets the release she desperately yearns for, fingers are withdrawn from her orifices, and hands removed from her tingling flesh. It's like they've sensed some elemental danger, their instincts warning them of an impending threat. Meanwhile, their victim, Becky, has to be left, strung out to face this new menace.

I'm concentrating so much on the shadowy animal-masked figures and Becky's reactions I too fail to notice another figure emerge from the darkness; black cloaked, leather-gloved, with wide, black-rimmed hat, and white mask in an upturned, sinister grin. A leather gauntlet closes over Becky's nose and mouth. She's shocked. She's not been aware of the shadowy figure sneaking up behind her. She can see La Contessa before her, no longer smiling, but severe, and realises there is another presence in the room. She struggles for breath as the hand closes tightly around her, gasping for every morsel of air she can suck from between the gloved fingers. Becky is on the point of expiring when the hand is taken away, and she draws in a deep draught of fresh air.

"La Contessa, it's always a pleasure to receive you as a guest in my dungeon. I admire your bizarre and exotic imagination."

La Contessa smiles appreciatively at the compliment.

"Il Padrino, you know how much I enjoy your dungeon, and sharing in our pleasure of the sadistic arts."

"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. Becky, you have come this far on a journey. You will not let me down now at the final stage of your initiation?"

"No, madam. 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 Becky.

"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. She's a little antique doll ready for us to play with."

"Yes, so fresh, 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 work together to untie Becky 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 Becky stands before them; La Contessa in her sleek scarlet gown and Il Padrino, in black, save for the unsettling white mask with its lurid grin.

Il Padrino pulls Becky's arms behind her back and binds her wrists with long strands of silky, black rope, twisting it two or three times around her slender wrists, before knotting tightly. He twists the remaining portions of rope up her arms. Becky remains passive and compliant, allowing him to bind her without a murmur of complaint.

As Il Padrino kneels to work on her legs, La Contessa threads a piece of rope under Becky's breasts and draws it under her bound arms and across her back where it's knotted. 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 Becky's back and pulls 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 round her legs up to the soft milky flesh of her thighs, supporting the weight of her body as he goes.

I gaze into Becky's eyes from the shadows and see a whole range of emotions in them; fear, anticipation, acceptance, and excitement are there as she relinquishes control to the two dominant figures. They finish their work. The girl is bound from toe to neck in a criss-cross pattern of black ropes. La Contessa's work on her breasts is especially artistic as she creates an intricate pattern of ropes around them, pulled tight so her bosoms bulge, bright red with the tension of the ropes. Her breasts will be sensitive to touch now.

La Contessa reassures her, "Are you alright girl? Are your ready to go further?"

"Mm, yes mistress," Becky 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, Il Padrino pulls the rope supporting Becky, 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 Becky's face as she 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."

Becky nods quietly. She releases the tension in her body, lets the weight of her body go, and allows the ropes to support her. Il Padrino pulls the rope pulley he has created within the frame, and Becky's body lifts into the air so she's 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 a rosy-skinned arse exposed.

"How do you feel, girl?" La Contessa asks, gently stroking her face.

Becky can barely utter a word so absorbed is she in the world of bondage into which she's been placed.

Eventually she whispers, "Good. It feels so good to surrender myself to you mistress."

"Yes girl, I know. I understand. It's where you belong, isn't it? You know you must suffer for me if you desire to offer yourself completely."

"Yes mistress, 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, its handle a golden lion, the symbol of Venice.

"Kiss the implement of your punishment, girl," he says, as he puts the gilded handle to Becky's lips.

The girl, still swaying 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 Becky 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."

Becky'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 regard that excessive for an initiation. Tell me girl, how many strokes do you want?"

Becky 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'll inflict a punishment on herself she may not endure, but choose too few and the mistress and master may not be satisfied it's enough and, perhaps, insist on the full hundred. I've acquired an instinct into how La Contessa's mind works. Becky announces her decision in a clear voice.

"I will accept whatever mistress decides I must receive."

La Contessa laughs again, "Excellent girl, you learn quickly. Then I declare that you should take fifty strokes, forty with the flogger and the last ten with a cane. 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."

Il Padrino runs the leather gently across the cheeks of her backside, which stick out invitingly from her suspended position. The first stroke hits with a loud slap which echoes around the dungeon. The master is true to La Contessa's warning; it's a powerful stroke. The girl lets out a grunt of pain and her body rocks in the rope swing with the force of the hit. 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 is that, girl?" Contessa asks.

"Five," Becky whispers, through gritted teeth.

Il Padrino gives her a short rest and gently runs his hand across Becky's arse, following the red marks he has made on her flesh with his finger. Becky moans with pleasure from the little respite she's given. He delivers the next five strokes in quick succession. The punishment is heavy. The girl's 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 golden lion handle nestles comfortably in her experienced hands. She fits the role of the severe dominatrix perfectly. The thongs of the flogger dangle menacingly against her silver-buckled boots.

She puts her mouth to Becky's ears and whispers, "Your new mistress will deliver the next ten strokes."

Becky mumbles an acknowledgement. If she thinks she'll get any respite from La Contessa's hand then she'll be sorely mistaken. She's skilled in this art, and can deliver a stroke as hard as any man. The flogger strikes Becky's backside hard three times. I see the soft flesh of her arse wobble with the force of the stroke, and her bound body sway back and forth. I get aroused from watching the spectacle. The sound of the flogger on flesh, her moans and whimpers, and the sight of her beautiful rounded bottom in the air receiving punishment is giving me a hard-on under my breeches. La Contessa glances across at me knowingly. She misses nothing, and I expect there'll be a reckoning to face for this lapse when I return to the palace.

I see Becky is going deep into herself, and her own ordeal of pain and pleasure. The force of the strokes, along with the rocking of the suspension, takes her into a trance-like state as she prepares 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 palm on her throbbing arse. By the fortieth stroke with the flogger, her backside is glowing red and imprinted with darker lines where the implement has created an impression on her skin.

There is a swishing sound now as Il Padrino stands in front of Becky wielding the cane. He offers the cane up to Becky's lips and she kisses its tip. Il Padrino and La Contessa administer their five strokes, each one hard and relentless. Becky 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 men in their animal masks look on in admiration and respect at Becky's powers of endurance.

"Well girl, have you anything to say?" La Contessa asks angrily.

Becky has drifted into her own 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 Becky with another five heavy strokes. Becky, thinking she had endured the punishment, lets out a squeal with the shock of these extra, unanticipated, strokes. I believe these are the hardest for her to take.

"Thank you mistress," she gasps after the final hit; she won't make that mistake again.

"Good, I am satisfied with what you have taken girl; and you Il Padrino?"

"Yes, Contessa, she has taken her punishment well."

La Contessa signals for me and the chimpanzee masked man to untie Becky's arms and legs and help her down. As the two of us untie the carefully constructed arrangement of knots, we support Becky's body as we drag her 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 Becky won't have to endure more?

Becky 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, pubic hair with his hand and runs fingers across her cunt lips.

"Oh," moans Becky.

"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 demands.

Il Padrino pushes a second finger into her pussy and moves them both around inside her in a circling motion. Juices ooze from her cleft.

"Oh, I think I must be," Becky replies guiltily.

"So, you get pleasure from receiving pain?"

"Mm, yes, I must do madam."

"Hm, it's lucky for you you're not a male slave because I don't tolerate them getting sexual pleasure," she tells Becky, casting a meaningful glance across at me, "but in a girl slave, well, if you get aroused, then I can't possibly let you go without allowing you satisfaction."

La Contessa has a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Assist her onto the rack," she orders.

We help Becky, now unbound except for the ropes still wrapped tightly around her tits, climb onto the rack. She lies and waits for the next stage in her initiation. Leather cuffs are attached to her wrists and ankles. Her arms are stretched out on the rack whilst her legs are pulled over the wood frame with chains attached to the cuffs, so they are splayed into the air, her wet cunt exposed to view.

The girl is tied to the rack. 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 cleavage thrust into her 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. Becky 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; Becky spread out on the rack, the dark masked figures of lion, chimpanzee, jackal, and zebra, now with erections protruding from their shadowy black bodies, illuminated by the candlelight.

La Contessa gestures. The zebra takes up a position between Becky's legs. The zebra's nostrils lean over her crotch, and a sliver of tongue slips out of the mask as the figure goes down on Becky, licking her pussy. He thrusts his tongue inside her licking her sex with fast little flicks,

"Oh, yes, please, yes," moans Becky.

The girl is being driven wild, her body bucking and twisting on the rack. La Contessa has other plans for her. She pushes Becky's head to one side and firmly holds it in place against the wooden rack. Facing Becky 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 Becky's body. She is stretched out and powerless, having surrendered herself into La Contessa's perverted game. They insert black-gloved fingers into Becky's cunt and tug on her clitoris with their lips, skilfully keeping her on the edge of ecstasy.

Becky's body thrashes wildly on the rack as the four masked beasts inflict their animal yearnings on their helpless victim. She groans 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 Becky's spittle. La Contessa looks on in amusement at the scene she's created.

"Oh, please make me come, please," Becky begs.