The Dominafuhrer - THE GODMOTHER

Episode 32 - Clarissa's Courage

Dominic’s and Sherry’s tears and nervous demeanor on re-entering the gallery were obvious to everyone and, as we finished clearing the tables and making sure that all the glasses and goblets were topped up, Miss Spiteful whispered to me.

“What went on out there?”

“Just starting a mutiny, Cap’n”, I replied in my best impersonation of Long John Silver with a German accent. “Sherry knows the truth now and the others have been warned”.

“Excellent!” she settled back on the couch with her glass in her hand. “Let’s wait for the cracks to appear”.

“I have noticed”, Bradshaw drawled. “That Nero has not requested his favourite relaxation tonight”. Our eyes turned to the dribbling Mayberry who seemed oblivious to being the centre of attention.

“I think that it would be a nice gesture if one of the slaves were to pleasure him anyway”. Bradshaw’s eyes went round the standing slaves, Pippa flinching but Gisela meeting his gaze with a resigned look. He turned his head to my side of the room and smiled at Ashley who clutched Sir Geoffrey’s shoulder, moved onto Clarissa who held her chin up but was visibly shaking and then looked at me. The thought of giving a blow job to that disgusting old man repelled me but it would not have been the worst thing that I had ever had to do and I raised my eyebrows expectantly. Bradshaw looked surprised and then boomed out: “Dominic, you will give relief to the Emperor Nero and, if you fail to please him, you will be punished”.   

With a howl of despair, Dominic went down on his knees alongside Garrod’s couch and flung his arms around the film star’s chest.

“Please don’t let them hurt me”, he wailed. “I know they paid me to go to bed with you but you do love me and I won’t tell anyone what we did. I’ll deny that statement that they made me sign, just don’t let them touch me”.

Todd Garrod stared aghast at his gibbering new lover as the realisation of his betrayal sank in and made to push Dominic off him.

“No, no, no!” Dominic’s was almost screaming. “I didn’t know that it would be like this; I’ll let you do anything that you want to me; just save me”.

“For God’s sake Serjanus, shut him up”, Bradshaw growled and Kurt launched himself off his couch towards Dominic. Hearing the thump of Kurt’s boots, Dominic screamed again and tried to climb onto Garrod’s couch but Kurt seized him by the slave collar and threw him to the floor. Kurt then proceeded to kick and stamp on the pathetic creature until his howls died down to groans and a whimper.

“Anyone else want some of that?” Kurt turned and demanded in the shocked silence. He was unaware that the hem of his tunic had caught on the hilt of his dagger exposing two thin and hairy thighs above his boots.

“The last time that I saw legs like that, they were attached to something that I crushed with the heel of my shoe”, Miss Spiteful tittered and, to my astonishment, there was a general roar of laughter.

When Kurt realised why he was being ridiculed he brushed the tunic back in place and made a step towards my Mistress with one hand on his dagger. She smiled sweetly at him as he hesitated and then, his face flushed with anger, strode past her couch. He did not go far however, reaching over George Harman and grabbing Clarissa by her long dark hair.

“You’ll do it then”, he snarled, dragging her towards Mayberry. “See if you think this is funny”.

Clarissa was forced to her knees in front of the peer, whose toga was then lifted above his waist by Kurt. Clarissa had barely protested or struggled and Kurt did not seem to have to use much strength when pushing her face against Mayberry’s groin.

“Come on, suck it!” Kurt ordered and Clarissa used her hands to expose Mayberry’s penis from his shorts. Mayberry was aware of what was happening to him now and reached out to touch the top of Clarissa’s hair but Kurt knocked the hand away. Her head began to bob up and down and continued to do so several minutes without any visible effect on Mayberry until she looked up at Kurt and shrugged her shoulders.

“Try harder!” Kurt snarled. “Unless you want to be my first fuck of the night”.

Clarissa resumed her efforts to raise Mayberry’s penis but he was probably too drunk and distressed to help her and Kurt slammed his fist against the side of her head.

“Just like a whore”, he shouted as she was sent sprawling on the floor. “No good unless you’re being paid”. Kurt tipped Mayberry backwards off the couch, who let out a cry of alarm as he landed in a tangle of robes and legs on the floor, and Clarissa was dragged across the couch by her hair to replace him. She tried to push herself upright but Kurt took a whip from the nearby rack and pressed her back down again. He flipped up the back of her tunic to reveal some very expensive black underwear over two very nice buttocks and proceeded to belabour them with his whip. The first couple of blows took Clarissa by surprise and she screamed in shock and agony but after that she seemed to be trying not to show how much she was in pain. She was bracing herself against the blows; her fingers were digging into material of the couch and, at each strike, she only let out a little grunt and a yelp. Nevertheless, one of her shoes came off when one vicious blow made her back arch and her legs straighten and a loud sob escaped from her mouth. Her black silk knickers were soon shredded and the pale pink flesh beneath turned red and then purple as the first blood trickled down the backs of her thighs to the tops of her stockings.    

I looked across at Sherry who was swaying on her feet with her mouth open and her eyes fixed on Clarissa’s agony. She turned her head away to meet my gaze and I nodded in the direction of Clarissa as if I was pointing out what would be her own fate. She gave me a look of desperation and then put her hands over her face to shut out the horror just as Kurt threw the bloodied crop on the floor. He stood panting for a moment, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and then started to fumble under the front of his tunic. We all expected him to sexually violate Clarissa while she was still supine but he withdrew his hand and looked around with his shark’s grin.

“No, I’ll save it for later. I’m going to have myself some virgin pussy tonight.”

I saw Miss Spiteful’s neck muscles tighten but the smile never left her lips as Sherry gave a little squeal. Everybody knew who the only virgin in the room was.

Clarissa slowly got to her feet, the tattered remnants of her knickers leaving a bloody smear on her stockings as they slid down to her ankles. She almost lost her balance as she kicked them away and recovered her lost shoe but finally stood upright in front of Kurt. Virtually the same height, they were eyeball to eyeball when Clarissa spat in his face and he cracked the open palm of his hand across hers in retaliation. Kurt bent down to pick up a napkin from Mayberry’s table to wipe his face and when he straightened up found that Clarissa was still there to confront him. This time there was no violence from either side, just a seeming contest of wills. To my amazement, it was Kurt who broke the deadlock, frowning as if he did not like what he saw in Clarissa’s face, and it was he who turned away. As dignified as she could, Clarissa also turned and tottered back towards George’s couch but I had to step out and catch her as she stumbled and almost fell.

“Well done”, I whispered. “I’ll try and be as brave as you”. Clarissa turned her tear streaked face up to mine, one eye already closing as the purple swelling on her right temple got bigger, gasped for air as if there was something blocking her windpipe. “I had to make him see that he isn’t going to get away with it”. I lowered her into George Harman’s arms and he sat on the edge of his couch cuddling her as she unsuccessfully tried to hold back the sobs that racked her body.      

I looked around the room again to see how the other victims were reacting. To my left, Todd Garrod was staring, pale faced, at the floor, as if oblivious to what was happening and the moans of the traitorous Dominic, who was sitting up and clutching his knees. To my right, Sir Geoffrey also looked deeply troubled and Ashley’s agitated whisperings in his ear were not making him any happier. Opposite to me, Ken Waveney on his sofa and Denis Wilmington on his couch were both sitting upright, the writer running his hand through his untidy shock of hair and the MP clutching his wife’s left hand as it rested on his shoulder. Gisela stood close behind her husband and, to me, her eyes were brighter and her chin held higher but Sarah was standing back against the panelled wall, still in a very distressed state. Mayberry had struggled back on to his couch but his cloak was tangled around his waist and his laurel wreath had slipped down over one ear and had caught across his nose. He would have been a comical figure if he had not looked so pathetic. The hired slaves, at their various stations, appeared shocked at Kurt’s brutality and Sherry was now trembling too much to hold a wine jug in her hands.

Bradshaw started to say something but Kurt, throwing the soiled napkin in Mayberry’s face, interrupted; “I will deal with the freak now”, he snarled and I felt my stomach turn over.

To continue this story, click Tightening The Screws

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