Mistress of the Air Ch. 15

The flight north across central Europe was an opportunity to test The Corseted Domme, Captain Wyndham pushing her to speeds of over 100mph to see how she handled. He was brought up on speed trials of bi-planes and got a visceral thrill out of flying fast. Besides, the race was on to get to Potsdam, the next destination, in time for afternoon tea.

After the excitement of the previous night, Lady Sally decided to give Borghild a rest and have a late breakfast, though brunch Lady Sally style was an interesting experience. Much to cook's disgust, she insisted on eating her fried eggs off a slave's backside instead of from a plate. She had the bishop on all fours whilst cook flipped the egg, fresh from the sizzling oil, onto his arse. He had the least hairy backside after the duke and had been told to wash it thoroughly. The hot fat certainly made him jump, and Lady Sally had fun with the knife and fork, digging into the flesh as she cut into the yoke. The runny yellow dribbled over the bishop's bum cheek.

"Congratulations cook. That's the perfect fried egg. The white cooked to perfection and a satisfyingly runny yoke."

"I dunno why you can't use a plate like normal people, milady. The things I 'av to put up with," she grumbled.

"Just fry me another egg, cook. And Victoria, will you pour me another cup of tea," Lady Sally ordered, reaching out with a china cup in her hand.

After brunch, she buckled down to some serious boot worship, always a good exercise for instilling a proper sense of obedience and reverence for mistress. She reclined in a comfortable chair with her legs stretched out on a footstool as the four submissive gentlemen took it in turns to lick her boots.

She possessed the largest collection of kinky boots in the country, having a particular fondness for Italian leather because it was undoubtedly the softest. She employed the services of a high-class shoemaker who made footwear to her own specifications, which was where the particular pair of boots she was wearing today came from.

Her maid helped her choose, assisting Lady Sally into the knee-length boots with long spiky heels and a line of silver eyelets where the laces fastened. There was plenty for a slave to get his tongue around; every so often she pointed out a tiny patch of leather or an inch of shiny, metallic heel a slave missed.

Yes, she reflected, this was certainly a satisfactory way to pass an afternoon. She was conscious the captain was pressing ahead at speed and, looking out of the viewing window watching the fields, rivers, roads and railway lines below flash by, made her queasy.

The airship slowed as she began her descent. Lady Sally was dropping in on one of her uncles, the Archduke Karl August von Hardonberg, who resided at Schloss Charlottenhoff in the outskirts of Potsdam. If the Ruhr was the industrial heartland of the Prussian Empire, then Potsdam was its aristocratic and military centre. Lady Sally had not seen her uncle since she was a child, when relations between the British and Prussian Empires were more amicable, though Lady Sally was not going to let the discord between their two nations stand in the way of a good cup of tea.

The airship flew over the houses of Potsdam as the captain sought out the mooring station at the palace. The Corseted Domme certainly caused a stir. As her giant frame floated over the town her engines thrumming quietly, everybody looked up to watch. But the captain noted a different response from their flight over London; their people were excited and waving whereas the reaction from the inhabitants of Potsdam was more one of suspicion... even envy.

The dirigible moored at the docking station and they disembarked, on this occasion, Lady Sally deciding to take only her maid and the captain with her.

"I know what these military types are like," she said. "My slaves are for my exclusive use. I don't want them buggered by some Prussian officer!"

"Madam, is this a good idea?" questioned her maid.

"What do you mean, Victoria?"

"Will we get into any trouble?" she asked.

"Trouble? I never get into trouble Victoria. Well, only if somebody offends me..."

"But everybody offends you, madam."

"Oh, don't be so ridiculous. Look, my uncle has even laid on a welcoming party for us."

It was, indeed, an impressive reception. There was a whole regiment of Prussian infantrymen in golden, pointed helmets and smart, grey uniforms with polished buttons. There was a great deal of military hardware on display; a row of howitzers and a cadre of steam-powered armoured-vehicles.

At the head of this entourage was an aristocratic Prussian gentleman in military uniform with an enormous grey, handle-bar moustache. This was Lady Sally's uncle, the Archduke Karl August von Hardonberg, a general in the Prussian army, as well as one of the principal families of the Empire.

But Lady Sally was prepared, and not to be outdone. Being patroness of the Rutshire Fusiliers, she was herself in full military dress and her regiment's colours. She was dressed in a royal blue uniform, which hugged her figure perfectly, a peaked cap with the regiment's crest and the shiniest, thigh-length leather boots. When she emerged in her uniform, the heads of the Prussian infantry turned with military precision. She was, undoubtedly, the sexiest thing in military uniform they'd ever seen.

The archduke gave Lady Sally a warm welcome, "Greetings my niece. It is such a pleasure to see you, and your airship. You've grown up into a... well into a..."

"Splendid specimen of womankind. Yes, I know Uncle Hardonberg, I have blossomed since I stayed at Schloss Charlottesburg as a child many years ago. It's quite a welcoming party you've laid on for me."

"Thank you. The regiment of the Prussian army I command is presently stationed at the palace, along with a squadron of Zeppelin. Your airship is most impressive, Lady Sally. I should be grateful for a tour. I'm anxious to hear every detail about her."

"Yes, she is a marvel of the age, uncle."

"I'm delighted to have your airship... I mean, your ladyship, here in Potsdam."

Captain Wyndham listened into this conversation with interest, bemused at how, faced with Lady Sally looking incredibly sexy in her military uniform, the archduke's attention was focused on her airship.

Archduke Hardonberg and Lady Sally led the way, followed by her maid and the captain. The troops formed a guard of honour, wheeling around to march behind them with military precision, their boots crunching on the gravel.

The captain studied everything, observing the battle readiness of the troops, seeking out where the airships were moored and noting the vast warehouse of armaments. This was stuffed full of crates containing the latest model of blunderbuss from the Krapp munitions factory.

To Lady Sally, the palace was the same over the top, somewhat tasteless, baroque grandeur of Schloss Schmegabaum. At least she was offered tea, which was a vast improvement on her Austrian host.

Once they had settled into comfortable armchairs, tea was served. It was a much- needed cup of Assam. Lady Sally recognized its flavour at once. Her nose for tea was so finely tuned that, merely from smelling its aroma, she could tell it was a leaf from her own plantation.

"Would you like a bratwurst, Lady Sally?" said the archduke, offering her a plate of long sausages in bread rolls.

Lady Sally looked askance at them but, not wanting to appear an ungrateful guest to her uncle, took one from the plate.

"How intriguing. Why, they are enormous. The German sausage is so much longer than the English one though ours is much thicker. I'll try a little mustard on it."

Lady Sally spooned a dollop of mustard on the tip of the sausage where it protruded from the bun. She put the sausage to her red lips and bit its end off.

"Mm," she said. "Quite pleasing, though I doubt I'd persuade my cook to use them. She's very set in her ways."

"You must tell me about your airship. It's a remarkable machine, and I'd be fascinated to hear more about it."

Lady Sally was not easily taken in though flattery was the best means of getting her to lower her guard.

"How many people can it carry?"

"Principally one... me, of course. And such entourage as I care to have travel with."

"No, I think you misunderstand me, my dear. If you were to fill the airship with a large number of people, how many do you think it will carry?"

"Oh, I've no idea. You'd have to ask the captain."

Captain Wyndham gave a guarded response, "As Lady Sally says, the airship was designed solely for her personal use, I couldn't begin to estimate how many passengers she could carry."

"Very well. And how big are your air bags, Lady Sally?"

"Bloody enormous," muttered Victoria under her breath.

Archduke Hardonberg looked indignant at the intervention, so the captain stepped in to smooth things over.

"There are twelve hydrogen bags, each with a capacity of 200 cubic feet."

"That's huge. She must be an unwieldy vehicle?"

The captain shrugged his shoulders enigmatically.

"So, what is her top speed?"

The captain was rescued from giving a straight answer by the arrival of a group of men in the drawing room. The captain recognised from the long, grey greatcoats and brass goggles around their necks that they were a cadre of airship pilots. Captain Wyndham looked curious. The Archduke was giving orders to launch his airship fleet. But why?

Whilst Archduke Hardonberg was deep in muffled conversation, the captain caught Lady Sally's attention. She had just taken a bite of the bratwurst and had the final portion of sausage sticking out from her lips.

"Your ladyship, there's something wrong. I think he wants to capture your airship."

"Really captain, what makes you think that?"

"His line of questioning, and the orders he's giving to his airship pilots. This whole place is gearing up for war. It's only an instinct but I believe he's after The Corseted Domme."

"But he's my uncle."

Captain Wyndham shrugged, "Families. My cousins argued so much, you'd think they'd start a world war!"

"Oh, how ghastly! Well, I can't allow him to get my airship. What do you suggest we do?"

"I think we make our excuses and get back to the airship as soon as we can. Does madam have any weapons on board?"

"Weapons, no. Why do I need weapons?"

"You've got your bazookas, madam. They're a deadly weapon," interjected Victoria.

"Don't be so impertinent maid! You're in for some serious punishment when we get back."

"There's a warehouse full of munitions near the mooring mast."

"What, you are thinking of stealing guns? How jolly daring, captain. Yes, you simply must do it!"

Archduke Hardonberg had finished his conversation with the airship pilots and was returning to his guests.

It was Victoria, surprisingly quick-witted, who came up with a feasible excuse. He caught the Archduke before he sat down.

"Her ladyship's very sorry, but she has to return to her airship."

"How disappointing. What's the problem?"

"It's a lady's thing," whispered Victoria. "It's a sartorial disaster, I'm afraid. You see, her ladyship's corset has split, and she needs to change into a new one."

Lady Sally added, "I'm very sorry. I shall only be a few minutes. It's a desperate situation. You see, the whale bone stays are digging into my ribs, and it's most incommodious."

Archduke Hardonberg looked bemused, but could only graciously accede to his guest's request.

Lady Sally, Captain Wyndham and Victoria hurried out of the palace and back along the gravel drive towards the mooring tower.

The captain was right; the palace and its grounds was a hive of military activity. Lady Sally had to agree with him, the best course of action was another hasty departure.