The Dominafuhrer - THE GODMOTHER

Episode 34 - The Chorus Line

There was actually a buzz of conversation as people discussed what had happened but it died away when Bradshaw stood up from his couch.

“Well, I think that there has been enough unpleasantness so we are going to have a little entertainment”.

If anyone thought that the unpleasantness was over; then they deserved to be punished, I mused to my self as I carefully stepped into my knickers and painfully drew the tunic up over my shoulders.

“Well done, Storm” Miss Spiteful whispered over the rim of her glass. “I think Kurt is well past his boiling point and will make his move soon”.

I reported the threat to Sherry and Miss Spiteful nodded grimly. “Get ready to grab her and run, we’ll probably be on our own. By the way, I should tell you that Ashley was quite ecstatic while you were being beaten and most disappointed when Kurt stopped”. I glared at the little shit but he refused to look back at me.

“Justine, remove that”, Bradshaw waved an Imperial finger at Kurt’s frame, “and bring the gramophone out”. Justine pushed the apparatus, on which I had suffered, back into the unlit part of the Gallery and then reappeared propelling a small table trolley with the gramophone from the library on it. Having plugged the electric lead into a socket on the wall, he opened the lid and we could see a stack of records already loaded on the spindle and waiting to drop.

“Now, all the females will form a line across the room beyond the end of the tables”, Bradshaw commanded. “That of course excludes our Chief Vestal Virgin”, he bowed to Miss Spiteful, “and Sarah. But that does include you Clarissa and you two as well”. He turned to look at Eva and Sherry at the drinks table. Eva looked annoyed but Sherry was absolutely terrified and was shaking as she walked past us to join the group of slaves standing uncertainly in the middle of the room. Miss Spiteful’s eyes followed Sherry’s progress and then looked at Kurt who was still sitting hunched on his couch, his face a mask of fury. Sarah, who had crawled back to Waveney and was now curled up in of the sofa, never stirred at the mention of her name.

“Come on Clarissa”, Bradshaw urged. “I know that you can dance because I saw you do it in a film last year. One of yours that was actually seen by the general public that is”.

Clarissa slowly got up from the couch which George Harman had let her stretch out on, wincing as she straightened her battered body. Her right eye was closed completely by the big purple swelling and there was a dark ring under her red rimmed left eye but she still gave Kurt a defiant glare before walking stiffly on her blood soaked stockinged legs to take her place. I sympathized with her although my beating had not been as bad as hers.

“Now what I want you all to do is to form a chorus line”, Bradshaw said jovially and waited as they shuffled into a ragged line. “No, no, I thought that some of you were professionals. Sort your selves out.”

They eventually formed themselves up to his satisfaction with Pippa and Gisela, being the tallest at either end and the two shortest, Tara and Eva, in the middle. Sherry was between Pippa and Tara with Clarissa and Sophia taking the places between Eva and Gisela.

“If you are confused about your gender, you might want to join the females?” Bradshaw looked at me with a smirk and I shook my head. Even fit, I never danced and used the story of my wartime injuries to avoid taking the floor at regimental dinner and dances for the mayhem that is called Scottish country dancing.

“Oh, very well then”, he sniffed. “Now, we will play one record to get you used to dancing together, but after that, anyone who makes a mistake will either have to do a forfeit to be decided by me or be punished by Serjanus”.

At that, Kurt gave a low growl and got up from his couch, stalking past us without a glance but kicking Dominic out of his path on his way to take up a place behind the line of dancers. They all glanced round nervously at him and then linked arms as they waited for the music to start. 

“Justine”, Bradshaw called out. “Take it away, is the expression, I believe”.          

Justine flicked a switch to let the first disc drop onto the turntable and, after a few scratchy noises; we heard the opening bars of ‘Putting on the Ritz’. The dancers hesitated and then Sophia kicked out her right leg and the rest followed one after the other. It soon became apparent that she was the most accomplished show dancer and was taking the lead in which steps to take. Tara and Pippa also showed some proficiency and Eva was putting in a lot of effort, despite the perpetual scowl on her face, but like Sherry and Gisela, who had obviously had some training, lacked experience in this type of dancing. Had Clarissa been fit, she would probably have been able to demonstrate her skill but was clearly in distress after only a minute of two, sweating, fighting for breath and wincing each time she stretched out a leg or banged her heels on the floor. She faltered, missed her steps and had to be supported by her partners on either side. The tap dancing sequence almost finished her and, when the record ended and the dancers untwined their arms, she sank to her knees and shook her head.

“I don’t care what you do to me”, she gasped. “I can’t go on”.

“Well that is a pity”, Bradshaw’s smile was as false as his sympathy. “You will pay the first forfeit and, as you have already been punished, I rule that you now complete your earlier task of satisfying Nero as he seems to have rediscovered his interest in life”.

Mayberry had indeed been awakened from his misery by the line of dancing female flesh and his eyes had glowed each time the long, black stockinged legs of Gisela, the nearest to him, had kicked up the front of her tunic to expose the tops of her thighs and her underwear. I know how he felt, amateurish as it was; the exhibition had been very erotic.

Clarissa’s one good eye glared at Bradshaw but she crawled over to the expectant Mayberry, who had pulled his toga up to his waist in anticipation of the delights ahead of him.

“Now the rest of you can take off your tunics”, Bradshaw continued. There was some stirring in the line and anxious glances between them before they reluctantly obeyed, tossing the garments off to one side and self consciously forming up again in their underwear and shoes. Only Sherry was wearing a bra, the rest not having bothered, which matched her white suspender belt and knickers; Gisela had on a black cross over corset with long suspenders and Eva had again donned her dancers’ tights over her knickers. The other three all wore suspender belts and knickers in assorted colours and styles.

“That’s better”, Bradshaw was almost drooling as he surveyed the naked breasts, of varying shapes and sizes, and stockinged legs arrayed before him. “Now remember, any mistakes from now on will mean a forfeit or punishment, depending on how I feel. How are you getting on over there, Nero?”

Mayberry, red in the face and breathing heavily, waved a hand in acknowledgement but I could see from my angle that Clarissa, although bobbing her head up and down over his groin, was letting her hand do all the work without having to take the old man’s member in her mouth. He was too drunk to notice, Bradshaw couldn’t see because Clarissa’s body shielded her actions and Kurt, who was striding up and down and rapping his whip against his boots, was still in too much of a temper to be bothered.

“Right away you go”, Bradshaw ordered. “Justine, each time I ask you to stop the record; I want you to restart it from the beginning”.

To continue this story, click A Most Pleasurable Punishment

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