tagSci-Fi & FantasyMistress of the Air Ch. 07

Mistress of the Air Ch. 07


Lady Sally got down to business. She soon had the bishop and duke strapped onto the whipping benches, the banker secured face forward against the bondage wall and the judge tied face down on the rack. There would be time for more tantalising play, and to try the devices engineered in her workshop, but now she itched to inflict serious punishment on her men. She also wanted to set a marker for her guests of what was in store for them during her travels.

She selected a range of different implements and laid them out on a table in the order she intended to use them. Her maid, festooned, as ever, in layers of petticoats and her French maid's dress, was on hand to pass the next implement.

She started with her bare hand to warm them up, besides there was nothing like getting a feel for the arse of a submissive than testing their reaction to a slap from bare flesh. She removed the elbow length rubber gloves from her fingers, delivering hard strokes with the palm of her hand. There was nothing quite like the sound of a slap on a bare arse. That contact of flesh upon flesh never ceased to provide Lady Sally with a feeling of dominance, not to mention a tingle of erotic pleasure.

The men were arranged so they could see the punishment being meted out to the others, a nice twist, which Lady Sally felt would enhance their sense of anticipation. She decided to start with the flabbiest arse, which belonged to the banker (stuffing himself at too many business lunches no doubt) and work her way up to the tightest, the duke's, which was firm and muscular.

After ten strokes delivered to each of the men with her bare palm, Lady Sally put her gloves back on, ensuring her fingers were stretched firmly into the tight latex. She reached out for Victoria to pass the first of her chosen tools of punishment. This was the wooden paddle. She gave the banker several hard whacks with this. It amused her to see his fat arse wobbling like a jelly. He took his punishment well though, probably because he had so much flesh to protect the nerves. Never mind, she would find a suitable implement to make him squeal. It was the judge who groaned with pain the most. Ironic, really, given how many sentences of corporal punishment he must have handed-out.

Following the paddle was her favourite leather-thonged whip. Lady Sally was warmed up now. Raising the implement high above her head she whipped it down on their backsides in a succession of fast strokes, her black hair flailing with the movement of the leather thongs. She was an expert at wielding the whip, twirling it around and striking with strokes varying in pace and strength to exert the utmost torment. The groans from the four men built up into squeals of pain as the whip cut into their backsides. After countless strokes, Lady Sally was panting with the exertion.

"A-hem," Captain Wyndham, still in the dungeon, and fidgeting uncomfortably at the sight of the punishments, tried to attract Lady Sally's attention.

She looked up, flushed and breathless.

"What is it captain?" she demanded, annoyed at being interrupted.

Wyndham shuffled nervously, not wanting to upset her, "I'm sorry, your ladyship, but you'd expressed the wish to fly low over London. We need to be descending soon, and Clarissa won't be able to negotiate the airship traffic around London, so may I have permission to return to the cockpit, please?"

"Yes, by all means. I want to fly as low over London as possible. I want the whole metropolis to look up in admiration at the The Corseted Domme. And go slowly so people can truly appreciate her."

"We have to in any case Lady Sally. There are strict speed limits because there's so much traffic. I promise you, madam, your dirigible will amaze the whole of London."

"Excellent, captain. Send message to me when we are on the outskirts. I may be so absorbed in whippings and beatings I forget to notice, and I don't want to miss it."

"Very well, Lady Sally," the captain assured, relieved to be able to return to the safety of the control cabin.

Lady Sally turned her attention back to the four arses thrust out and offering such agreeable targets for her. They were glowing red now. The spiky pain of the whip had spread, penetrating every nerve in their bodies.

Victoria passed Lady Sally the next implement.

"Ah yes," she exclaimed. "This one has been moulded in the manufactory at my rubber plantation."

She handled the tool admiringly. It was, as she called it, her 'hedgehog'. The flogger was flat on one side, but had rubber protrusions on the other, making it capable of delivering two different styles of impact.

Lady Sally started to mix things up. This time she started with the bishop. She alternated three strokes of the flat side with three of the spiky side. One delivered a delicious slapping noise whilst the other was silent, but more deadly. The bishop let out a loud yelp at the first strike of the spiky 'hedgehog'. It delivered a sharp pain that penetrated right through the flesh. The other three men looked on in trepidation at his reaction to the object.

Lady Sally was satisfied with the results. She inspected the bishop's arse and admired the little indentations the rubber spikes created. In fact, she was so pleased, she gave him another three strokes with the hedgehog side, then proceeded to repeat the treatment on the other three.

Next was the cane. Lady Sally selected a nice bendy one. She held it between her rubber-gloved hands and flexed it, testing the tension in the birch. She swished it through the air, a sound she loved to hear.

She set upon the four arses with venom. Three slashes there, five on another backside, another four elsewhere. She gave up counting or ensuring the strokes were evenly distributed. She was in her own zone where she just wanted to inflict pain and here were four arses offered up to her for just that. The air was filled with moans and groans, squeals and shouts as each of them responded to their beatings in different ways. Lady Sally was enjoying herself.

She had also got very hot. The skin-tight rubber, along with the exertion of the thrashings, was causing her to sweat profusely. Lady Sally wore no undergarments underneath the suit. The sexiness of the latex against her skin combined with the excitement of delivering the punishments to her submissive men aroused her, making her cunt wet.

She paused for breath as one of the rigger-men entered with a message from the captain. The young man looked shocked at the naked arses glowing red, but was soon sent on his way by Lady Sally. She unfolded the paper and read the message that The Corseted Domme was approaching the outskirts of London. This was perfect timing as she was ready for a break, and needed to do something both to cool off, and to satisfy the sexual needs welling up in her crotch.

She stepped over to the window. By now the airship had dropped in altitude considerably but was still gently descending. Below, she could see the metropolis laid out before her, the factories and foundries spewing out smoke, the hustle and bustle of its streets and its sky-line of iconic buildings. Looking around, she gazed upon a sky filled with commercial and passenger airships of varying sizes. It was as if the air was awash with floating phalluses, The Corseted Domme, the longest and the thickest of them all; a mighty tool, dwarfing every other dirigible in the sky. They were close enough for her to see the amazed expressions of their crew and passengers as they caught sight of her dirigible.

The airship was travelling at a crawl as the captain skilfully weaved its massive bulk through the traffic. She descended to as low an altitude as he dared take her.

Lady Sally beckoned her maid over, "Victoria, stop lazing around and come over here and help me out of my outfit."

"Yes, madam," she replied with relish, teetering over in her high-heeled ankle-boots.

Her mistress needed help to unfasten the rubber suit at the back and peel the pliable material from her body. It was a task Victoria thoroughly enjoyed. The feel of the rubber, and the brushing of her bare flesh against the maid's finger (simply unavoidable to undertake the task effectively) aroused her. Lady Sally's skin, and the inside of the suit, was damp to touch, being covered in beads of sweat. The smell, a mixture of rubber, talcum powder, and the earthiness of bodily odours, was all the sexier for it.

"Victoria," Lady Sally scolded, "get on with the job in hand, please. I hope you're not getting turned on there! And you must stand behind me at all times. If I catch you trying to sneak a peek at my privates, you will be severely punished."

Lady Sally's hands stretched behind her into Victoria's petticoats, seeking out her cock hidden amongst layers of lacy material. When she found it; it was hard. She wrapped her fingers around his penis and squeezed hard.

"Really, Victoria, you are incorrigible. I can carry on from here."

She pulled the rest of the suit down until, losing its shape without Lady Sally's body to sustain it, it lay like a pool of shimmering, purple water at her feet.

She stood there naked, save for her purple gloves. Lady Sally's slaves who, despite being in different positions of bondage, were able to crane their necks to catch a glimpse of her, looked on in astonishment. Her naked back and the perfect curves of her hips and backside were in full view. She had the most beautifully proportioned arse, balanced on top of long, stately legs.

The cool of the air was nice after the sticky rubber clinging to her flesh. But her need was still great, and she felt the moisture between her lips. There was nothing for it; she would have to do something. She did not care who saw her, indeed the idea of people in the metropolis below watching rather turned her on. The airship was now floating over London so low there was every possibility an unsuspecting stranger might look up and see Lady Sally, naked, framed in the great, glazed focal point of her magnificent dirigible.

Her hands strayed to her crotch. Her fingers sought out her slit and one slid into her slippery hole. She moaned with pleasure and desire. She really needed this; she gasped as she slid a second finger into her cunt. She scooped up the wetness, pulling her fingers out to find the throbbing nub of her sex and began rubbing it frantically to the sound of her gasps and moans.

An airship floated alongside The Corseted Domme, its passengers staring open-mouthed at the exhibition of Lady Sally floating in the air, masturbating. It was simply too much for the more genteel ladies, who swooned into a faint at the sight. Their husbands remained transfixed though. People on the streets, looking up to admire the giant silver airship, received a shock as they got an eyeful of a naked Lady Sally, her fingers up her crotch.

There was a tinkle of china cups.

"Tea's ready, your ladyship."

"Bugger off cook, can't you see I'm busy," Lady Sally countered, too absorbed in her pleasure to turn around.

"Well, I declare, there's no need for bad language," huffed cook. "Besides, it's unlike you to miss afternoon tea."

"Cook, there are some things that take precedence... even over tea, I'm afraid," Lady Sally gasped as the pleasure welled up inside her.

They floated over the Palace of Westminster, Lady Sally with two fingers up her slit. They hung over St Paul's Cathedral, Lady Sally frantically rubbing her clit, getting ever closer to a climax. She came as they hovered over the Tower of London, bursting into the most delicious orgasm as she floated through the air. There were shocked Beefeaters on the wall of the Tower, who gazed upon Lady Sally's naked body, her tits pressed against the glass, as wave after wave of orgasm rippled through her.

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