The Dominafuhrer - THE GODMOTHER

Episode 31 - For The Love Of Sherry

Despite being punctual, we were the last to arrive as Kurt pointed out. He was lounging on a couch dressed as an officer of the Praetorian Guard except for his black riding boots, his tinted spectacles and his Nazi dagger, instead of a sword, across his lap.

“At last, our virgin has arrived”. He scoffed and Miss Spiteful, who had been looking grim up till then, turned a sweet smile towards him.

“Thank you, I can see by your substitute penis that you are pleased to see me”.

Sir Geoffrey guffawed, Bradshaw stifled a snigger but could not hide his smile, Eva giggled and Sherry laughed out loud until Kurt snarled angrily at her. The others gasped at Miss Spiteful’s swift drawing of the battle lines for the night.

The furniture was in the same horseshoe shape as the previous evening but the tables were all low ones and the chairs had been replaced by couches, or when they had run out, a leather sofa. The candles and floor candelabras must have been lit for some time and there was already a smoky atmosphere. The men’s’ costumes were Roman Emperors robes or citizens togas and the slaves, both male and female, were dressed like me including their slave collars.

“Can you take your places so that we can make a start?” Bradshaw called and I followed Miss Spiteful to her couch and stood behind her as she arranged herself on it. Everyone was in the same position as the night before except Justine who had no one to serve, now that I was a slave, and stood by the drinks table with Eva and Sherry.

“Right everybody”, Bradshaw stood up from his couch and adjusted his purple cloak around his toga. “The rules are the same as last night. You all know that compliance is mandatory. Any infractions will be dealt with by Serjanus here”. He indicated Kurt, who flashed his shark’s teeth smile. “I will just introduce everyone now by their characters so that there will not be any confusion. I am Julius Caesar; Sir Geoffrey is Caligula and Kurt you know already. Further on my left is George as Pliny; Miss Spiteful is the Chief Vestal Virgin and Todd is Mark Anthony. To my right Waveney is Brutus, Wilmington is Cicero and Lord Mayberry is supposed to be Nero but he is having a little problem entering into the spirit of the evening. It doesn’t matter who the slaves are”.

I looked at Mayberry for the first time since we had come and saw how changed he had become. He reminded of a barrage balloon that had come down in Viktoria Park in Berlin during the war, with a leak caused by a piece of shrapnel or a stray bullet. Mayberry’s face was grey and wrinkled like the material of the deflated balloon and his body in its purple robe was as shrunken and as crumpled as the gasbag. His eyes were red rimmed, sunken and staring at his waist. He was swigging at his goblet in his trembling hands but excess liquid was dribbling down his chin and onto his already stained toga. Here was a really broken man; obviously having been informed by Kurt that he too was a victim and not a partner in this enterprise, as he had believed. I did not see one flicker of compassion for him on any of the faces of the others.             

“Slaves to your duties and let the feast commence!” Bradshaw clapped his hands but instead of heading for the kitchen I went to get my mistress a drink first. I picked up a small tray, placed an empty glass on it and then turned to Eva for it to be filled. She looked at me with suspicion as she poured the wine but I was studying the ill concealed purple bruises on her face.

“Don’t you have any Dermablend to cover those?” I asked trying to keep my voice low and sound sincere at the same time.

Surprise and then anger flashed in her eyes as she whispered back. “Not with me, I didn’t think that I would need it. Kurt always bats me around a bit so that he can get his hard on but he’s never hurt me this badly or in the face before. If it wasn’t for the money I would fix the little cunt, good and proper”.

“I’ve got some upstairs that you can have in the morning”, I told her. “In my line of work you never know when you will need it”.

“Er ta, ta very much”, she said hesitantly and turned away to stop Justine overfilling a glass with Gin.

Gisela seemed to have taken charge in the kitchen, dividing the slaves up into serving teams and assigning the pale and tearful Sarah to making up plates of food for us to eat when we had time. When she saw the way that I picked up a tray and handled the serving spoons she came over.

“Do you know table service?” she asked with some surprise.

“Sicher”.

“Gutt, then please take charge of your side of the tables, I will look after my side. We must try and avoid giving offence tonight”. She nodded in the direction of Sarah.

The food had all been cooked and laid out on trays or in dishes on the long kitchen table and all we had to do was deliver it to the plates in the gallery. I was giving my team of Dominic, Clarissa and Tara some tips on service when I noticed that Ashley had got a big plate and was scooping food from the trays on to it.

“Ashley, what are you doing?” He jumped and then looked at me defiantly.

“I only serve Sir Geoffrey”.

“A fact that we are all grateful for”, I said amidst titters from the others. “But tonight you will do as I say”. I put my face close to his and used my Gestapo voice. He almost threw the plate back on the table and waited, trembling, for me to finish speaking.

The cook, Grace, had excelled her self again and the menu was a complete change from the previous night. The starters included honey glazed ham, tuna, stuffed dates fried in honey, grapes, olives, boiled eggs, chopped bacon, sliced sausage and a salad. The fish course was fillets of sole and mussels with a beautifully aromatic sauce to be poured over the plate. I was not too sure about one of the main courses, which was hare, but the roast duck was delicious. Vegetables, cooked in their own sauces or with spices, were served with the fish and meat dishes.

We all worked hard and the meal was served without any major incidents, I only had to stop Justine tipping his tray of duck in spicy gravy over Kurt, and between us Gisela and I made sure that all the slaves had a couple of breaks to sit down and eat their own meals. On my first, I realised that my cigarettes and lighter were still in my handbag hidden behind the big Chinese vase in the hall and had to beg one from Tara.

“How did last night go with Bradshaw?” I asked her.

“Brilliant!” she replied, her pretty little face lighting up. “As soon as I walked in wearing that uniform he went down on his knees and grabbed his cock. I’ve had to dress up for kinky fucks to get a job but I’ve never taken charge or felt such power before. He did every thing I said and when I punished him for whanking, he’d do it again just to get caned. I came myself a couple of times and made him lick my pussy, as well as suck my tits, which gave him another excuse to toss himself off. In the end, I made him a nappy out of towels, put him to bed sucking his thumb, and went  back to my own room for a good night’s sleep. Can we have a crack together sometime about this Dom business? I’d like to know more about it”.            

I had noticed that conversation amongst the guests in the Gallery was at a premium and only my Mistress seemed to be enjoying herself, which she usually did in the presence of food and wine, and she seemed to talking in German to George Harman whenever I came round. Apart from Kurt and Bradshaw, everyone was staring silently at their plates as they ate, including Mayberry who seemed to have recovered his appetite. There was a strong atmosphere of tension and foreboding in the room.

Once the dessert course of figs, pomegranates, pears and custard had been served, I found time to sit down with Gisela, Dominic, Clarissa and Sherry to finish our own dinners. Again I had to ask for a cigarette (how can Kelly keep doing it without any shame?) and Gisela obliged: lighting one for herself at the same time.                  

“You’ve done this before as well”, I said to her in German.

Gisela blew out along stream of smoke and gave me a sad smile.

“Music teachers were not much in demand in Germany after the war”, she replied in our language. “I had to do what ever I could to survive. I was working as a waitress at the US Army Headquarters in Stuttgart when my husband came as a dinner guest”.

 I had no intention of asking what else she had had to do to survive but, keeping my eye on Sherry, I made my next remark in English.

“That’s a coincidence, my husband is a British Army officer and I met him when he came to the café that I part owned in Bremen with Sherry’s Mother”.

Sherry’s head came up and she turned towards me, her eyes wide in surprise.

“You know my Mother?” for a moment she seemed about to ask me more and then her eyes narrowed and her lips curled back. “That whore!”

Gisela looked as if she had been slapped in the face when Sherry spat out that word.

“How dare you call your Mother that!” my voice rose as my feigned anger almost became real. “She was never one and neither was your Godmother. You know nothing about them apart from the lies that Kurt has told you for his own ends. You should also be careful about flinging that word around. You cannot imagine what circumstances have driven women into that trade. Until you have faced the same choices that some women have had to, you should stop condemning them”.

Gisela gave me a small smile of gratitude and Sherry, taken aback, changed her attack.

“Well, she can’t have loved me because she gave me away”,

“I lived with your Mother for two years and there was not a day passed when she did not regret having to let you go”, I said in a calmer voice. I was reasonably sure that I was telling the truth but my next statement was definitely not a lie. “I was at your Mother’s wedding in Amsterdam last year and she cried as she sang a song about how much she has never stopped loving you and how much she misses you. Anyway, have not your adoptive parents, who you have left without a word, loved you for eighteen years? And who do you think has funded the education, the clothes, the presents and the holidays that they couldn’t afford? Your Father’s lawyer cheated you out of your estate and your Godmother has paid for all that for the last ten years. Why? Because she loves you!”

I was making assumptions again but I must have been close to the truth because Sherry sat back open mouthed. The others round the table just looked puzzled.

“Let’s talk about love”, I continued. “It’s not holding hands and kissing, it goes a lot deeper than that. It should have penetrated your brain by now that this is not a country house party and that all the guests, apart from your Godmother, are here because they are being blackmailed. They even tried to set me up with Justine for fucks sake! Kurt and Bradshaw are putting on this farce to crush the spirits of their victims by hurting the ones that they love. Do you think that Gisela here will have done what she has if it was not to protect her husband? That is love. Look at Sarah down there, she’s not even Ken’s wife but she came here because they love each other. Would you go through what she has unless it was for love? I don’t why Clarissa is here but I assume that love is involved”.

Clarissa looked at me from under long dark eyelashes and spoke in almost a whisper, “Yes, I am here because of my love for someone”.

““That little shit Ashley is being used against Sir Geoffrey and even Dominic here”, I continued, “is going to be used, although he doesn’t know it yet. Now that Todd is in love with him, Kurt is going to beat and torture Dominic to make sure Todd stays in line”.

There was a crash as Dominic dropped his spoon into his dish and put his head in his hands. “Oh no!” he wailed. “They never said anything about hurting me. I can’t take pain”.

“So why do you think that you are here?” I demanded. “Have you done any singing or dancing since you met Kurt?”

The speechless Sherry could only shake her head at me.

“You’re not getting a thousand pounds like Dominic and the others because you believed all the lies that Kurt told you. Well, let me tell you; Kurt is going to beat torture and violate you because he knows that it will hurt and destroy someone who loves you and that is your Godmother. That’s why you are here and, when he decides that the right time has come, who is going to stop him? Eva won’t, she’s being paid to stop people telling you the truth. None of the other victims or the slaves will, they don’t know you and they have got their own skins to look after”.

Sherry was almost in tears as the full horror of what she had got herself into sank in.

“There is only going to be two people who will stand in his way and protect you; one is me, because I love your Mother and the other will be your Godmother, because she loves you. That’s what love really is and you don’t deserve it!”

There was silence around the table, apart from Dominic’s sobbing, until Eva’s high heels clattered down the passage and she stuck her head around the door.

“Get a bleeding move on you lot, the fun’s about to start!”    

To continue this story, click Clarissa's Courage

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