The Daughters of de Sade

by Falconer Bridges

  Julian was beyond caring.

  "You might be a policewoman but you can still be fucked. And I'm going to do it. I'm going to fuck your twat and your mouth. I'm going to spunk up your fanny and all over your tits. I'm going to come in your mouth and then watch the sperm dribbling out over your lips. What do you think about that?"

  "You're a filthy, disgusting little boy, so I suppose you can't help your dirty mouth. But you'll be sorry for saying all those nasty horrid things. Believe me, you're going to pay."

  As she began to gather up the discarded clothing, Julian had time to reflect on her words. He began to wilt. She was right, there would be a reckoning and he was not looking forward to it. In the gloomy half-light, he could barely make out her shape as she reached for the light switch.

  "You won't be seeing me again, for a while at least. I'll be back to collect you in a couple of days, to take you to court. So you've got plenty of time to enjoy yourself. Don't wear your cock out while I'm gone."

  Extinguishing the light, she slammed the door behind her and left a crying and screaming Julian all alone with his frustrated, throbbing cock in the darkness of the cellar. And there he would stay; cold, unfulfilled and with his hands clamped behind his back, totally unable to wank himself into satisfaction.

  And of course, as usual that was exactly how he wanted it.

  The dirty deed that had brought about Julian's ordeal in the cellar was really quite simple and straightforward. Once again he had been naughty. But this time he had been very naughty indeed. In fact the naughtiest that he had ever been in his entire life. And because his misbehaviour had been so completely inexcusable, not to mention criminal, he was going to be punished more harshly than ever before; not this time by Mistress Madonna and The Daughters of de Sade but by the law.

  The charge was insider dealing in the shares of a company of which he had intimate knowledge, just a few days before the company crashed and the shares became worthless. Julian had claimed to Mistress Madonna that he had not done it and that it was all a mistake. But that was what he always said. And why she did not believe him. He had been a bad wicked boy she told him and she had no doubt that he had known full well what he was doing. And for that, no matter how harshly he was to be treated by the law it was nothing compared to what he would suffer at her hands.

  And so suffer he had.

  In the cellar.

  Gladly and expensively.

  Mistress Madonna had wrung the truth from his lying lips, even if she had been obliged to play the part of a policewoman to do so. In any case, she had enjoyed her little moment of role-play. And so had he, although afterwards he had very much regretted disclosing his guilty secret. As for her, the confirmation that she could so completely dominate a man who himself was greatly feared in the business world made her control over him even more deliciously enjoyable.

  Julian's confession had confirmed all her suspicions. The chairman of the company concerned had indeed passed over the information that had allowed him to avoid great financial loss when the crash came. It had really come as no surprise to Mistress Madonna but there was no way that she could allow Julian to be imprisoned because that would deprive her of an enormous source of income during his stay at Her Majesty's Pleasure. Something had to be done!

  But what?

  The problem was exercising her mind to such an extent that later on that day even as The Colonel was ramming his very capable cock deep into her, she was unable to throw herself wholeheartedly into what should have proved a highly enjoyable shag. She just could not stop her thoughts from straying back to Julian and so with a frenetic faked enthusiasm she propelled the Colonel into what for him was a very swift climax.

  She was sensible enough to let him recover properly from his exertions because although the shagging had been a fairly short-lived affair, his resulting orgasm had been anything but. His penis had continued to jerk wildly and spurt gout after gout of thick hot sperm into her clasping vagina for an unbelievable length of time. But as soon as was reasonably politic, because as well as being the best fuck that she had ever experienced he was also the most practical person she knew, she brought up the affair and asked for his advice.

  As it happened, as a member of the County Set he had more than a passing acquaintance with the judge who was due to hear Julian's case and advised her that it would do no harm at all if she were to attend the hearing herself, dressed in her most seductively severe and alluring fashion. That there would be a firm basis to his suggestion was not in doubt and accordingly she made very careful preparations for her forthcoming day in court.

  The pre-trial hearing was already well under way when The Colonel and Mistress Madonna entered the courtroom. Catching sight of The Judge, Mistress Madonna hesitated for a moment, before turning to The Colonel and whispering in his ear.

  "You didn't mention that the judge was a woman."

  "Sorry about that m'dear, I know that you don't usually get up to any hanky panky with the memsahibs but you did say that you wanted to get this Julian cad off the hook."

  Casting a further glance at The Judge, she began to understand his reasoning. No lipstick, no blusher, and as far as could be ascertained, under the wig, close cropped hair. But she was not as old as Mistress Madonna would have expected a judge to be and she did have a fine bone structure; with a little professional attention she could be transformed into an attractive woman.

  Listening to the evidence against Julian, she looked anything but impartial, directing vitriolic looks of condemnation at the heinous malefactor who sat before the court, sandwiched as he was between his outrageously expensive legal advisors. Once again Julian's wealth and social standing seemed to count for nothing, to her he was just one more privileged fat cat fraudster, guilty as hell and thoroughly deserving of the harshest sentence that could be imposed upon him.

  Since Julian had no real defence and the facts could not be disputed, there was no reasonable doubt as to the outcome of the case. There was therefore no need for a full trial before a jury and so the prosecuting counsel put forward a request for a summary judgement. This The Judge appeared only too happy to grant and was addressing the packed court as Mistress Madonna pushed past the seated assemblage of journalists, stockbrokers and pure sensation seekers that Julian's high public profile had attracted to the hearing.

  She was looking her absolute sensational best. Despite her attire being what she considered fittingly demure for the occasion, she still projected an overpowering aura of both sexuality and severity. All eyes swivelled in her direction including those of The Judge and as she seated herself between two suddenly very accommodating male reporters, she allowed her thigh-hugging split skirt to fall open revealing a long expanse of creamy thigh and contrasting black ruched suspenders and fishnet stockings. Eyes widening in disbelief, The Judge's words stopped in mid sentence, the effect of Mistress Madonna's dramatic entrance being apparent to everyone present.

  With mouth hanging open The Judge remained silent, drinking in the spectacularly erotic scene until an embarrassed cough from the clerk to the court returned everyone's attention to the matter in hand. The Judge was so flustered that continuing the proceedings was impossible and the hearing was adjourned to a later date, supposedly to allow further legal advice to be taken. Catching her eye The Colonel directed a knowing look that said should it be so desired an introduction to his companion could be arranged and in return received an emphatic nod of assent. The court was then cleared but it was obvious that The Colonel's strategy had worked very well. Accordingly he made his way to The Judge's chambers and issued an invitation to a little soirée at his place for the following evening.

  After a lifetime's dedication to precision and correctness in all aspects of life, The Judge arrived at The Colonel's country pile exactly on time. Not a minute early and not a minute late, punctuality being equally as important to her as was conformit
y to a somewhat antiquated set of moral and ethical standards.

  Answering the summons of the doorbell himself, The Colonel ushered his distinguished guest inside and led the way into the drawing room. The Judge had of course been expecting something special but what was lounging on a gigantic leather sofa was far in excess of any of that expectation.

  "Good God!"

  The Colonel was completely unfazed by her exclamation.

  "Yes, I've said many times that I do believe that he is. But if I'd wanted to have a parley about bible wallahs, I'd have invited the padre. Come on, let me introduce you to your fellow guests."

  The fellow guests in question were Mistresses Madonna, Magenta and Maria - The Daughters of De Sade themselves. And what a sight they presented. The Judge had certainly never seen anything like them before and probably never would again. Three almost identical vampire-tinged goddesses, dressed entirely in black with voluptuous figures, enticing looks and severe sex appeal, rose from the sofa to make the acquaintance of the final member of their party.

  After a few moments' stunned silence The Judge regained a certain amount of composure and The Colonel made the formal introductions. He really need not have bothered with their names because The Judge was so bound up in the way they looked that she could not pay attention to anything else.

  Mistress Maria wore nothing but a Jean-Paul Gaultier basque, black stockings and multi-buckled ankle boots. Her breasts were pushed high, her magnificent cleavage well defined and inviting. The black suspenders running over the front of her thighs from the lace fringed bottom of the basque down to her stocking tops, framed her pube-laden but otherwise naked sex. The Judge's eyes lingered on Mistress Maria's mouth-watering attributes for so long that the amused smile that flickered over her face suddenly forced an embarrassed withdrawal.

  But that only led to her gaze falling upon Mistress Magenta. And she presented an equally breathtaking image. A tight waistcoat hardly contained her full, heavy mounds and did nothing to hide the thimble sized nipples that threatened to punch their way through the clingy silk. She was wearing knickers, if they could be called that. They were a revelation to The Judge whose own garments of that nature contained considerably more material and covered a far greater area of flesh. Mistress Magenta was wearing a tiny patch of patterned silk that barely covered her sex and swept up over her hips to vanish into nothing but a thin, almost invisible thong that disappeared between the swell of her buttocks. There were no suspenders but they were not missed because the broad lace patterned tops of her hold ups served to accentuate the shape and smoothness of her firm, unblemished thighs. Shoes with exaggeratedly long pointed toes and exaggeratedly high and spindly stiletto heels added to the overall aura of sexuality that surrounded her. She was a timebomb waiting to explode and The Judge was her target.

  Having been introduced to the enticing charms of her sisters The Judge felt herself wavering a little in her lustful desire for Mistress Madonna but the full force of the woman's animal magnetism stunned her once again as she finally made a long, direct and somewhat embarrassed assessment of her. Everyone present knew full well that the reason for The Judge's presence was to meet Mistress Madonna and hopefully to get inside her knickers but they were a little puzzled as to how she had been able to pick her out so easily. The triplets were so alike that almost everyone had great difficulty telling them apart, a problem that obviously did not apply to The Judge.

  Unlike her sisters, Mistress Madonna was not openly displaying all of her very considerable personal assets. She was wearing a long dress that would not have been out of place in a Hollywood vampire epic. Cut very precisely to emphasise her breasts to their full advantage, it fitted tightly to show off the firm swell of her hips. It also fell almost to the ground and so showed nothing of her legs. Until she moved, that was. Then her creamy thighs and stocking clad legs emerged tantalisingly from the slit that ran down its front from crotch to hem. The Judge was transfixed and the looks that passed between The Daughters showed that they knew it.

  Never slow on the uptake, The Colonel, asking to be excused for the moment because he had a few urgent matters to attend to, left the room, closed the door and left The Judge alone with the erotically appealing but equally terrifying Triplets of Torture.

  Mistress Madonna stepped forwards and taking The Judge's hand indicated the sofa. The inference was obvious, it was an invitation to join her, the sexual innuendo direct and to the point. Now that the eagerly anticipated moment had arrived The Judge hesitated, suddenly having second thoughts as to the probity of the situation. There were certainly moral principles to be considered if nothing else. And apart from that, it just was not right. A member of the Judiciary had to be of the highest character, unblemished and incorruptible. But then again, what the hell? There were three of them and what a unique opportunity that presented. And surely even a judge was allowed a little fun now and again. But the doubts still persisted.

  Letting go of The Judge's hand Mistress Madonna arranged herself back on the sofa, while her sisters in debauchery busied themselves retrieving a bottle of Dom Perignon from the ice bucket in which it had been waiting and pouring the ice-cold bubbly into four crystal champagne flutes. The Judge's eyes never left Mistress Madonna, even when taking the glass of vintage wine offered by her sisters.

  Pressing themselves very close, Mistress Magenta and Mistress Maria draped their arms over The Judge's shoulders, the feel of their jutting breasts and supple figures sparking an uncomfortable confused lusting in her previously controlled and sensible mind. It was a ridiculous situation and she fully realised that every passing second made it more difficult to get out without succumbing to temptation.

  And Mistress Madonna was now making it even more difficult. At Julian's court appearance she had achieved what would have been virtually impossible for any other woman, looking the epitome of wanton sexuality but without compromising that image she had also exuded a vital strength of character; she was not a woman to be trifled with. She showed all the signs of a dominant and commanding personality and that intriguing combination of seductive sexuality and power was what The Judge had found so dangerously enticing.

  That initial appeal was now doubled, somehow she had managed to surpass even what had seemed at that time to be the ultimate in perfection. Mistress Magenta and Mistress Maria ceased their ministrations to The Judge and moved over to position themselves on either side of Mistress Madonna. With their hands stroking her hair, running over her shoulders and smoothing themselves over her jutting, firm breasts, they did nothing to cool the fever that was rapidly rising in The Judge's loins. Parting her legs Mistress Madonna presented her with a vastly closer and more personal repeat of the view that she had allowed in the courtroom.

  The Judge's tongue flicked out to run over suddenly dry lips as using one of her most successful tactics, Mistress Madonna slowly uncovered the embroidered broad lace band of her stocking tops, the suspenders that clipped into them and finally black satin knickers, with the hint of pubic hair escaping from their gusset. Lifting her bottom from the sofa as she did so, Mistress Madonna hooked her thumbs into their waistband and very slowly and seductively began to edge the knickers down. Covered in black curls and looking exactly as nature had intended, her mons was revealed and then her sex lips. They were not clamped tightly together as were The Judge's own but fell slightly apart with the inner lips temptingly visible. Drawing in a sharp breath of lustful longing as her eyes soaked in the full extent of Mistress Madonna's charms, The Judge felt all remnants of resistance fast disappearing.

  Continuing on their downward journey, the smooth, clingy satin of the knickers slipped over her creamy thighs, past the firm shapely muscles of her calves and on down to her ankles, to be finally kicked away. On the receiving end of an overtly provocative and sex-laden glance, The Judge felt the mercury rising rapidly as Mistress Madonna lowered her eyes and indicated her wonderfully forest
ed minge. Her tactics were much the same as those she employed with Julian.

  "You'd like to touch, wouldn't you?"

  The Judge had to make at least a token show of resistance.

  "Of course not!"

  "Come on, we're not prudes here. Why deny yourself?"

  "Young woman, I'm a judge, an official of the law and as such I find your behaviour disgraceful; if not unlawful."

  The words were strong but were delivered in a less than emphatic fashion. In fact the flustered, lecherous look on her face rendered them totally unbelievable. Her legs widening further, Mistress Madonna slipped her middle finger down the wavy groove between her labia. After very slowly running it up and down several times, she allowed the finger to slip inside her vagina and leaving it where it was, she waited for some time allowing the tension to build before addressing The Judge once more.

  "I'm sorry Judge but I know desire when I see it and it's written all over your face. You want me and I'm available. And if I'm not mistaken you want my sisters too and they're not going to say no either."

  And then to add to The Judge's torment, the inner voice of temptation stepped in, whispering that there was no real harm in it; any one of them would do very nicely indeed, and all three would surely prove a heart-stoppingly-wondrous experience. But that voice had to be denied. There was only one way out.

  "You're a very silly young woman, I couldn't possibly want anything to do with you. I'm married."

  That was true at least.

  She was!

  To a wimp of a man who had only got his dick into her fanny once in their married life and that was on his wedding night. She had hated it. Hated the groping hands, the slavering mouth, the grotesque thing that had rammed its way into her unsullied vagina and the slimy strings of sperm that had dripped from it after the disgusting episode was over. It was thoroughly degrading, totally unrewarding and revolting. And she had told him so very forcefully the next morning over breakfast. Sex was filthy and it made her queasy just to think about it. From that moment on it was forbidden.