La Contessa Ch. 19

Chapter 19: La Contessa's Arrival

Later that morning Julia summons me and the other staff. La Contessa has arrived earlier than expected; she's been spotted in the distance riding along the sweeping avenue leading to the hunting lodge. Julia hurriedly assembles the domestic staff to greet her. It seems she has taken two horses, one for herself and another for Mademoiselle La Tour, to ride on ahead of the carriage. As a group of us emerge from the house. La Contessa has already dismounted, and strides towards the wooden portico at the entrance of the lodge, leading a splendid black stallion by its reins. Julia hastily hustles the staff into a line and we bow or curtsey to La Contessa.

Her face is flushed red, and her chest is heaving with the exertion of the gallop down the drive. Her horse, its body still steaming, is a magnificent beast, as imposing as its mistress. She towers over us, both because she's tall, also because her bearing and presence enhance her stature. She's dressed in hunting attire, a smartly tailored black jacket, which spreads out over her hips to accentuate her hour-glass figure, and a top hat with a pheasant feather in it. In her hand is a riding crop. My eyes are drawn to her fawn jodhpurs clinging tightly to her thighs, and her riding boots, knee high with silver spurs on them. The leather is splattered with mud. I remember polishing these boots and getting turned on by handling them. To see them on their owner, worn with such power and elegance is a sight to behold. The scowl on her face betrays her displeasure.

"What sort of rabble do you call this, Julia? Do you think this is the greeting I should expect after a long journey?"

In a fluster, Julia replies, "No, madam. I'm sorry, madam. We've been busy getting things ready, and we weren't expecting you until later."

"You should know to expect me at any time. I trust everything is prepared for me and my guest," she says, as an assumption more than a question.

"Yes, madam, everything is ready," Julia says, and luckily it is.

La Contessa's piercing gaze bears down on Julia, "You seem flushed, maid."

"Well yes, madam, I've been busy with finishing touches to make sure everything's perfect for you."

"No, I don't mean it in that way. I mean flushed like you've had a good fucking, my maid. Look at your rosy cheeks, you're positively glowing."

Julia looks horrified, and guilty.

"I'm sorry, madam, it must be because the last few days have been hectic," she mumbles.

La Contessa glances up at the rest of the staff to gauge their reaction. What do they know... or suspect? They appear uneasy. Is it because they know about me and Julia, or because their mistress is angry?

Her gaze is directed at me, stood behind Julia in the line with the other staff.

"You slave, come here," she orders.

I move forward and offer a sweeping bow.

"Welcome, mistress. I hope you've had a pleasant journey," I don't expect to sweet-talk her out of her foul mood, but it's worth a try.

"Oh well, at least one of you is ready to greet me properly," she says with sarcasm. "But don't think mere pleasantries will get you out of trouble slave. You are getting above yourself. A bit of praise and it goes to your head. That needs to be corrected, my slave. And what do you think you're doing here with clothes on? Strip off! And where are your manners, can't you see my guest wants help to dismount. She needs a foot stool to help her get down."

I contrive an appropriately contrite expression as I take my uniform off, but inside I've the lovely gut-wrenching feeling of submission. I love it when she's like this. Love the tone of controlled anger in her voice. Once naked, I walk over to Mademoiselle La Tour and get down onto all fours.

Mademoiselle, still sat upright in the saddle of her panting brown mare, looks on the scene with an amused glint in her eye.

I hear the crunch of riding boots on gravel as La Contessa follows me to Mademoiselle's mount.

"That's better, slave."

There's a swishing sound behind me as La Contessa slices the air with her riding crop using such force I feel the air blast against my backside like a winter squall. I know what will follow. The next stroke slices down on my arse with unrelenting power. It stings... it really stings! It's as if her irritation has been channelled into one stroke. I use all my powers of control to hold my position and stop myself from screaming in pain. Another three hard hits strike the flesh of my backside. The stiff wood of the riding crop delivers a severe stroke.

"I've been waiting to do that, my slave. You've grown complacent in my service and you need to be taught a lesson."

"Yes mistress, thank you mistress."

"Don't think this hunting trip is a holiday for you... or any of my servants," she adds fiercely, so they can hear. "You will be put to work and I will use you how I see fit."

"Yes mistress, of course mistress," I say, and I mean it. I want her to punish me. I want to submit to her.

La Contessa reaches her hand out to Mademoiselle, and the French woman slides off her horse, resting one of her booted feet on my back. The leather sole presses on me, but I strain to keep my position. Soon after, the second boot comes to rest on me so she balances precariously on my back. Mademoiselle may be petite but I'm still supporting her entire weight. I struggle to bear her as the riding boots press down on me, and the stones of the drive dig into my hands and knees. I daren't give way as, if I collapse, Mademoiselle will go tumbling onto the ground, and I'll be in serious trouble. At the moment when my body is about to give way, Mademoiselle steps off my back and I get relief. I maintain my supplicant position though.

Mademoiselle is dressed in riding attire in the same fashion as La Contessa. I've only seen her in formal dress and preposterous bejewelled wigs before. Viewing her today with subtle make-up and her black hair tumbling loose from under a top hat, I appreciate what a natural beauty she is.

"I think he rather enjoys the crop, Contessa. I recall how I used it on him during your card game."

"He's not meant to enjoy anything, Mademoiselle. He is there to suffer for me and serve me. Is that not so, slave?"

"Yes. mistress," I concur.

"I think he should have more strokes," Mademoiselle says.

"Whatever gives you pleasure, my friend. He is yours to use how you please."

The crop whips down on my arse in a succession of severe strokes, some using the stiff body of the crop, others the leather loop at its tip. Mademoiselle may only be tiny, but her hits pack a punch. She stops to tease me, running the crop gently against my backside. The leather loop is soft against my flesh, but it's only a short relief as the crop cracks on my arse. It's sore now, and tender to touch.

There's a crunch of boot on gravel as Mademoiselle takes her place in front of me. I keep my head down to maintain my supplicant position. I'm conscious of the brown leather of her riding boots and the fawn moleskin stretched over her thighs. From here I can peek under her riding jacket to spy her crotch where I see a damp patch, whether from the sweat of being in the saddle or arousal at punishing me, it's hard to say.

Mademoiselle settles her riding boot before me. I know what's expected and lean forward to lick the specks of moist mud off the leather. I work my tongue up the boot to the knee. I suck in the glorious earthy taste of soil mingled with polished leather. Whilst my tongue is at Mademoiselle's heel something sharp digs into my throbbing backside. It takes me a moment before I realise what it is... the riding spurs from La Contessa's boots. She pushes the spikes deep into my skin. I sense the indentation marks forming in my flesh as she digs hard into my bum cheek. The spurs run agonisingly across my skin, and it doesn't take me long to realise where they're heading. In this position my cock and balls hang invitingly for her. Sure enough I soon suffer the sharp spurs digging into my sac.

"Stop squirming, slave. Marie will you give me a hand. Hold this slave to stop him wriggling so I can dig my spurs into him."

"That looks fun. Can I have a go when you've finished with him?"

"By all means, Mademoiselle."

The French woman uses her hand to push on the small of my back whilst La Contessa leans on her as a support to gain greater purchase with the spurs. In this position she works the spurs across my balls. The metal digs deep into the sac and presses on my testicles. It's a sharp and spiky pain. I can't help but squeal.

Mademoiselle laughs at my predicament, "I think you've got to him. But he has a hard-on, Contessa. You shouldn't allow that."

"Certainly not, I'll have to do something about that. I can't have him getting any sexual pleasure out of his torment."

Contessa runs the spurs along the length of my erection and the pain of the spikes digging into my cock is soon enough to dent my arousal. She pushes one of the spurs into the end of my penis, and it's excruciating.

"You can have him now, Marie."

La Contessa rests the sole of her riding boot over the small of my back and presses, the spurs digging into me again as Mademoiselle kicks my balls with a few staccato swings. This comes as a surprise as I'd prepared myself for the sharp tingling pain of the metal. I groan and collapse, falling onto the stone drive. This is the position Mademoiselle wants me in, flat on the floor with the sole and heel of my mistress's boot pressing on me. It's only then she starts to work on my cock and balls with the spurs. I recall from the card game how Mademoiselle enjoys administering punishments. She takes pleasure from this, as does La Contessa, and between them they make a formidable pair. The French woman pushes my cock hard against the ground with the spike of one of the spurs. She works the sharp tip into the hole at the end of my cock.

"Zut alors!" exclaims Mademoiselle, "This is where they belong; under our boots, tormented by powerful women."

"Yes indeed, Mademoiselle. It's such a pleasure to work with such a natural sadist as yourself."

"Ah, ma Cherie, but the pleasure is all mine. To watch an expert in the arts of domination at such close quarters is a privilege."

"Thank you. What an exceedingly nice compliment, Marie."

The two mistresses look up as they hear La Contessa's carriage approaching. From my position on the ground I see the coach, pulled by four black horses and mounted by two horsemen in La Contessa's livery, rumbling down the incline towards the hunting lodge. As you'd expect, her carriage is lavish, decorated with vermillion paint, gold leaf and carvings of black swans. It pulls up outside the lodge where the staff stand, having witnessed my humiliation at the hands of La Contessa and her friend. Julia still looks pensive but relieved her mistress's attention is diverted off her and onto me.

"Ah, I wonder how your slave girl has fared?" asks Mademoiselle.

"Yes, we left her in an entertaining predicament, hog-tied and strapped into the carriage. I suppose I ought to check how she is," added La Contessa with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

She climbs into the carriage. There's a shuffling sound as La Contessa releases Becky from her confinement. It's the girl who emerges first. She's naked, naturally. She's also gagged with a metal bit like those worn by the horses. Around her forehead is a headdress with black and white feathers, so she's adorned exactly like the horses pulling La Contessa's carriage. Her arms are secured behind her back with two leather cuffs chained together and she has a collar around her neck. As Becky steps down from the carriage, mistress follows holding a lead attached to the collar. When the girl reaches Mademoiselle, she gets down onto her knees and looks up at her with adoration.

"Ah, my sweet," she says stroking Becky's hair like she's her pet. "We've had such fun in that carriage. You're such an attentive slave. What a journey. I've never had so many orgasms! Your tongue, your fingers, they are simply everywhere. Here, with your mistress's permission, let me release you from your bit."

La Contessa nods her approval, and Mademoiselle removes the metal from the girl's mouth. She stretches her jaw.

"Thank you Mademoiselle. It's been a pleasure to serve you..."

"...To service me, ma cherie," corrects the French woman. She bends over, taking Becky's face between her palms and kisses her.

"Do you see girl?" La Contessa says, pointing to me lying on my front in the dirt. "He has disgraced himself. I believe he needs more punishment," she adds, handing her slave girl the riding crop.

And I thought my torment was over for the afternoon. Becky sets about me with the crop with a fearsome determination that surprises me.

"That's it girl, give him a good beating," La Contessa encourages.

And she does, raining a series of savage strokes on my backside and top of my thighs. By the end of it my arse is raw and throbbing.

"It's been a long journey, girl. Do you need to relieve yourself?"

"Yes please, mistress, if I have permission."

"Then you may use my slave as your piss-pot, girl," La Contessa says, gesturing to me lying flat on the ground.

"Thank you, mistress."

With a flick of the lead Becky steps forward, stands over me and spreads her legs. It starts as a warm trickle over the back of my head but soon becomes a gushing torrent of hot piss flowing through my hair, down my face, and into my mouth. I drink it in greedily. It tastes fresh, warm, and salty. It's humiliating to be subjected to this, especially in front of the household staff, some of whom stare open-mouthed, as not all are familiar with the intimacies of La Contessa's techniques of domination. I confess to being rather partial to the bouquet of fresh pee. Besides, I'm thirsty by now too! So, I try to suck the warm fluid into my mouth rather than see it spilt on the ground and wasted.

After Becky has emptied her bladder over me she tightens a collar which mistress has passed to her, around my neck, and hands the lead to La Contessa. I'm told to get down on all fours again whilst Becky is ordered to get down alongside me. Mademoiselle takes her lead. The pair of strict mistresses stroll along the drive pulling Becky and myself behind them like their dogs.

"Julia, follow me," La Contessa commands. "Let me see if everything is in order."

Julia looks worried... very worried.