Mistress of the Air Ch. 02

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Lady Sally punishes Brigadier for not joining her adventure.
2.9k words
4.23
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Part 2 of the 40 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/25/2017
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SlaveNano
SlaveNano
124 Followers

"I'm very disappointed in you brigadier... very disappointed."

Lady Sally was back at Rudston Hall, 'entertaining' one of her submissive gentlemen, who was secured onto a whipping bench in one of the rooms dedicated to domination and punishment.

Indeed, most of the rooms of the house were put aside for that purpose, rendering it a playground for the expression of Lady Sally's dominatrix persona. Except the kitchen. Cook had stood firmly to her ground, insisting none of her mistress's strange goings-on take place in her domain. "It's disgusting, milady," she said. "Quite unhygienic. I can't have those bodily fluids around where I'm mixing cakes!"

Lady Sally circled the whipping bench menacingly, the brigadier following the sound of her heels clicking on the parquet flooring until they came to rest in front of him. The scarlet silk of her corset brushed against the hairs of his handlebar moustache. The firm, white flesh between the straps of her black suspender-belt were before his eyes, allowing him to stare down at her elegant legs in their black stockings. The smell of her, musky and sensual, was intoxicating. As he glanced up from his restrained position, he noted the wooden paddle cradled in her silk-gloved hand.

"I'm sorry, mistress. I'm disappointed myself. I should have loved to join your adventure, but I've been called back to my regiment."

"Huh," Lady Sally sniffed. "All that pointless marching and parading. You should send your soldiers to me. I'd soon instil some discipline in them!"

"I don't doubt that, mistress."

Brigadier Trumpington was left helplessly exposed. The regimental uniform of the Rutshire Hussars was left draped over a velvet chair, and he was now naked, kneeling on the bench, his ankles and wrists shackled to its wooden frame with handcuffs, his arse sticking up invitingly into the air.

It was too tempting a target for Lady Sally to ignore. She lifted her arm and whacked the paddle against the brigadier's backside. There was a thud, then a yelp of pain. His flabby arse wobbled like the jellies cook created with the hundreds of brass moulds in her kitchen.

She fixed her gaze on him, peering through a black mask which highlighted her penetrating eyes lined by dark kohl.

"It's your loss brigadier. This will be an adventure like no other; I'm so looking forward to it. I shall be a Mistress of the Air, floating in the clouds whilst administering cruel punishments to a select group of helpless slaves. And I have all manner of new dastardly devices to experiment with. There will be clockwork and steam-powered implements of torment. My workshop has been working over-time to get them ready. And you will forgo all the excitement..."

"I'm so disappointed, mistress. I know what a privilege it is to be invited, and I should love to be joining you."

"Well, it's a poor show, brigadier, that's all I have to say. I am of the opinion you should prioritise service to your mistress over these military shenanigans. What have you to say to that?"

"I'm truly sorry, mistress, but if I don't return to the regiment this weekend, I'll be court-martialled."

"It would be a small price to pay for displeasing me. You would just have to tell them you simply had to serve your mistress, and she insisted on taking you on an adventure." Lady Sally hesitated, a subtle smile spreading across her lips, "But tell me, brigadier, if you were subject to a court-martial, what punishment would it impose?"

The brigadier was disconcerted by Lady Sally's smile-it was a bad omen. From bitter experience, it usually meant she was having a fiendish idea. A trap was being laid for him.

"Well, mistress, if it were deemed to constitute desertion, then it would be a treasonable offence, and the punishment would be execution by hanging."

"But taking into consideration the mitigating circumstances of having a mistress to submit to, what punishment then?"

"I don't know. I doubt such a case has come before the military tribunal, mistress."

"You think not?"

The paddle came crashing down on the brigadier's arse again. He howled in pain. He hadn't prepared himself for the heavy stroke. The tingling pain spread across his backside like spiky tentacles.

"Yet, I know how many of the officer class indulge themselves of chastisement from a strict mistress. Come now, you are raised on corporal punishment-a strict governess, public school, Sandringham, the barracks. You cannot resist a good caning... and if it's from a sexy mistress, skilled in the arts of sadistic punishment, like yours truly, then all the better."

"Yes, mistress. Of course, mistress. It's true, who could not resist the magnificent Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester."

"I know what sentence a court-martial would pass. They would give a full judicial punishment, would they not?"

The brigadier gulped, "Yes, mistress."

"So there, the dilemma of how I should deal with your disobedience is resolved. For failing to join my airship adventure, the punishment is a judicial flogging and caning," Lady Sally announced triumphantly.

"Thank you, mistress. That's very fair, mistress," replied the brigadier, hints of both anxiety and anticipation in his voice.

To get him warmed up for what was to follow, Lady Sally gave him another almighty whack with the wooden paddle. The brigadier groaned. His arse throbbed.

"That is merely the beginning," warned Lady Sally. "A military tribunal would expect the most severe punishment to be inflicted for dereliction of duty... the duty in this case being servitude to me."

Brigadier Trumpington was completely in her control. He was used to this, had attended Lady Sally on many occasions and willingly subjected himself to all manner of punishments, but he was nervous. He'd deeply offended Lady Sally by not joining her airship adventure, and he was not going to get off lightly.

There was a clunk of wood upon wood as she dropped the paddle onto an occasional table behind her. He followed the trail of Lady Sally's footsteps as her metal-tipped heels clicked across the floor, visualising her statuesque figure as it surveyed the implements of corporal punishment on display. She pondered over which to choose.

Lady Sally had the largest collection of antique whips, canes, riding crops, floggers and straps in the country. She had built the collection up over many years, having poured through specialist magazines forwarded to her from her favoured bookseller in Drury Lane to seek out new acquisitions to her collection. She corresponded with collectors from all over the world, arranging for implements to be shipped to her from far-flung parts of the globe. She attended auction sales and, such was her determination to acquire every antique or unusual tool of corporal punishment... and such was her wealth, that she would outbid anybody for an implement she'd set her heart on.

She possessed the riding crop used by the Duke of Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo, the cat of nine tails from 'The Bounty', a rattan cane used by a Moghul emperor, a set of leather straps from Han Dynasty China and a bull whip from Commander Cody's wild west show. Anything distinctive, or with a unique history, she purchased for her collection. The most precious items were kept in a glass fronted mahogany cabinet. She only used these on special occasions. The more everyday tools for corporal punishment were arranged in rows on brass hooks around the room. There was a myriad of options available to her.

It was to the objects hanging freely available to which she turned. After all, the type of judicial punishment she had in mind for the brigadier might break skin and draw blood... and she certainly didn't want to stain any of her precious canes and floggers with a slave's blood. That would simply not do.

She pulled a leather flogger off its hook. She ran its thongs through her silken fingers to assess their feel and weight. The leather bands were heavy and thick and would deliver a suitable whack on Brigadier Trumpington's arse. She nestled the flogger's handle in her hand, and her fingers wrapped around it in comfort. Yes, that would do nicely for warming him up.

Now to the canes. She had a huge collection of them; several hundred in this room alone, but many more scattered throughout the house. After all, one never knew when one would need a cane, and it was essential to have one to hand wherever one was. Each cane was a different length or thickness and had its own balance and weight. She picked several from the wall to try them out, swishing each one through the air to test how it handled.

She wanted to deliver a severe judicial punishment in keeping with the sentence she had imposed, and to give vent to her genuine annoyance that the brigadier chose futile military service over attending her.

She had a clear vision for the select party of submissive gentlemen she wanted on her airship-a duke, bishop, banker, judge, and a military man. She had secured the first four from the many men who attended her, only too happy to pay a handsome sum to sponsor the expedition and join her adventure. That it was the brigadier's duty to return to his regiment, and that he may not be exaggerating the consequences if he failed to return, mattered not to Lady Sally; she expected to be placed first above all. The punishment for not doing so must be severe.

She had made her decision. She opted for a kendo stick. The brigadier was privileged. This implement was a gift to her from the Crown Prince Taisho. It was an antique shinai from the Edo dynasty dating from the late 17th century and had belonged to Emperor Higashiyama. It was rare she used one of her antiques, but Lady Sally felt the circumstances merited it.

She slid her silk gloves off and wrapped her fingers around the handle. It felt perfect. The shinai did not have the flexibility of a regular cane, but its weight and strength would deliver a hard whack. It was made of slats of dried bamboo strengthened by resin and bound tightly together by leather thongs. Lady Sally considered it highly appropriate; after all, kendo was an ancient means of instilling discipline in the human character, which was precisely what the brigadier needed.

She strode around to the front of the bench to tease him.

"Are you ready?" she asked, dangling the thongs of the leather flogger before his eyes.

"Yes mistress," he muttered.

Lady Sally looked magnificent in her scarlet corset over a black, silk blouse, thrusting her ample breasts up and making the distinctive phoenix tattoo on her left tit clearly visible. An ivory cameo hung from a black, silk choker around her elegant neck.

Despite the fear of the threatened punishment, or perhaps because of it, he couldn't help but get an erection.

She stepped back behind him. She ran the strands of leather across his backside. Their warm touch was deceptively sensuous. She twirled the flogger in her hand to warm up, and the brigadier listened to the thrashing of the thongs through the air.

Then she struck. The flogger swished through the air. Four rapid slashes across one of his bum cheeks, followed by another four on the other. The leather straps stung with a prickly pain.

Lady Sally ran her hand across his backside. On top of the earlier whacks with the paddle it was just starting to blossom into a red glow. The touch felt soft and cooling though the brigadier was aware it was only a brief respite.

The flogger whipped against his buttocks. This time the strokes were harder.

Lady Sally leant over to inspect his backside.

"You have a nice rosy arse there. But, of course, this is a judicial punishment, and the flogger is only to warm you up."

She went over to the table to pick up the kendo stick.

In a piece of showmanship, she posed in front of the brigadier. He lifted his head up to see Lady Sally, her stunning figure squeezed into the silken corset, her ebony hair flowing over her milk-white breasts, a look of steely determination in her blue eyes. She was in a crouching position, holding the kendo stick over her head in position, preparing to strike.

She fixed her gaze on him.

"Look upon this, slave, a shinai, a Japanese bamboo sword. I don't believe I've ever used one on you. It's thicker and harder than a cane. I rarely use them because they are so vicious. But, in your case it's appropriate and deserving, is it not?"

The brigadier's heart jumped a beat, "Yes, mistress."

She practised a few strokes to impress her slave and instil a sense of fear in him. The force of her stroke as it sliced through the air was like a gust of wind against his face. It was, indeed, a fearsome object

"I received this as a gift from my travels in the Far East when I was younger. The Crown Prince Taisho gave it to me and taught me how to wield it properly himself."

Lady Sally lowered the stick and offered its end to the brigadier to kiss.

"Now I will deliver a just penance for your snubbing my invitation."

She took up the crouching position again, this time behind the brigadier where his arse still hung invitingly in the air, presenting the perfect target for Lady Sally.

"Kiai!" She screamed. Whack!

The blow was so fierce, the brigadier's eyeballs nearly popped out. It drove right through him and sent waves of pain reverberating through his body. Out of the many beatings he'd taken from Lady Sally, this was one of the hardest strokes he'd ever received.

"Kiai". Whack!

"Argh!" the Brigadier shouted, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Kiai," Lady Sally screamed again, like a Samurai's war-cry. Whack.

"Please Lady Sally," the brigadier pleaded. "Please, that hurts so much, mistress."

She lowered the shinai, "Well, of course it does. Mayhap you have forgotten what the punishment is for. Remember, this is a judicial punishment, so there is no safe word and I will not yield to any pleas for mercy. I will deliver exactly the number of strokes I think proper for the offence."

"Yes, mistress," he whimpered.

"Kiai!" Whack. "Kiai!" Whack.

Lady Sally continued. So engrossed was she with her punishment of the brigadier she was oblivious to the two figures who entered the room. It was Victoria, Lady Sally's transvestite lady-in-waiting in a French maid's outfit and, behind her, Captain Wyndham, who had a meeting with Lady Sally to report on the progress of her airship.

They were spectators as Lady Sally rained fearsome stroke upon stroke on the brigadier's exposed derriere. Victoria was used to this. This counted as normal behaviour in the daily routine of Rudston Hall, though even she had to admit it did appear a particularly ferocious beating, even by Lady Sally's high standards.

Victoria shuffled nervously, waiting for the right moment to intervene to let her know the captain had arrived.

Captain Wyndham looked on wide-eyed, and open-mouthed.

Eventually, after countless strokes, Lady Sally paused to catch her breath. Victoria chose this moment to speak.

"Captain Wyndham is here. You asked me to inform you when he was here, madam."

Lady Sally was indignant. "Really, Victoria. You can see I'm in the middle of a thrashing... and you choose to interrupt me now!"

Victoria looked crestfallen. "But madam, you did ask me to bring the captain to you."

Lady Sally was having none of it, "Victoria, you should know by now that the art of serving me is not necessarily to do what I say, but what I don't say!"

"But..." spluttered Victoria.

"And stop shuffling around, Victoria. Do you need a wee or something?"

"No, madam."

"Very well, Victoria. It's nearly tea time, so you may take Captain Wyndham out to the terrace where we will partake of some tea. I should not be much longer now."

"Very good, madam," replied Victoria as he ushered the gob-smacked Captain Wyndham out of the room.

Lady Sally returned to her hapless victim. The brigadier's backside was crossed with red marks and dark bruises. Her punishment had been unrelenting, and his arse was a mess. The pain was excruciating though by now he was in such a daze he was beyond caring.

"The final five strokes, brigadier, then I will have received satisfaction."

"Kiai," she screamed like an enraged dervish as she brought the last five strokes down on his throbbing backside.

The brigadier howled, but was relieved the punishment was finally over.

"Oh, and one more, just for the hell of it." Whack.

The brigadier groaned. That was the hardest corporal punishment he'd ever taken, no small achievement given Lady Sally's justified reputation as a strict English dominatrix.

"There now, brigadier. How do you feel after that?" asked Lady Sally as she unlocked the handcuffs.

The brigadier thought carefully how to respond, "Thank you, mistress. That was a well-deserved thrashing. You excel in the sadistic arts, your ladyship and I submit to your judgement and skill."

"Ha, at last a little contrition from you, brigadier," she sniffed.

Having untied him from the whipping bench, Lady Sally led him across the room where there was an iron cage. She opened the door and beckoned him in.

"I shall have my meeting with the captain and return in due course. You will wait here until I come back, in case I feel like giving you a few more strokes," she said, locking the padlock on the door and dropping the key into her cleavage.

"Yes, thank you, mistress."

SlaveNano
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AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
Poor research.

In 1910, there was no such rank in the British Army as 'Brigadier'. A Brigadier-General would not be serving with a regiment. Sandringham is the Queen's estate in Norfolk: Army officers train at Sandhurst. This sort of careless error spoils an otherwise promising story.

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