The Daughters of de Sade

by Falconer Bridges

  What she had been unable to tell him, never mind admit to herself was that what she really meant was that sex with a man was repulsive. And so for many years she had consigned her husband to a solitary world of masturbation and the occasional sordid experience with ladies of the night. At the same time she had denied her own sexual leanings and spent her life growing increasingly frustrated and bitter, until now she was nothing but a dried up woman whose anger and spite was taken out on the unfortunates who appeared before her in court.

  That was until Mistress Madonna had re-awakened all her long-suppressed lusting for beautiful, exciting women. And there she was, sitting before her waiting patiently and silently, now and again sweeping her hands upwards over her vulva and entwining her fingers in the long ebony pubic hairs that covered it so densely. The Judge swallowed hard, desperately trying to dampen the intense sense of titillation and excitement that was threatening to engulf her.

  Shifting position Mistress Madonna made her sex more available to The Judge's view, widening her labia to reveal the pink flesh of her inner lips. The other two Daughters joined in, Mistress Magenta tugging the minuscule patch of the thong to one side to reveal her own delightful and equally inviting vagina and Mistress Maria heaving a wonderfully heavy, brown tipped breast from the captivity of her figure-hugging basque and rolling the erect nipple under her palm.

  The Judge could not stand much more, the temptation was fast becoming irresistible causing the pulse to pound in her temples as her heart beat ever faster. What should she do? She knew what she wanted and that was Mistress Madonna. She was in an agony of indecision; should she hang on to the old and maintain her prudish respectability, or grab what was new and leap headfirst into an unknown but enticing world of previously forbidden sex?

  Her brain was urging caution but her heart kept reminding her that outside of the court, her life was humdrum and dreary and such a chance would most probably never come again. The barriers had to give, and they did. In an instant The Judge's self doubts flooded away and without warning in a helpless moment of weakness she suddenly lunged towards Mistress Madonna, fell to her knees and headed straight for the magnificent fanny that was displayed open and waiting before her. In her mind she could already taste the heavenly nectar of Mistress Madonna's vagina on her tongue and as her head slid between those magical thighs, her lips pursed to take their first thirsty suck.

  But that was as far as she got. In a flurry of lightning fast movements, Mistresses Magenta and Maria each grabbed a handful of her short cropped hair and to the accompaniment of howling screams of pain and astonished curses, pulled her back from the entrance to heaven and hauled her to her feet. Her scalp felt as though it were being ripped from her skull, these girls were strong, strong enough to stand her upright, tug her arms behind her back and hold them there.

  All the retribution of Heaven and Hell combined was going to fall on their heads if The Judge's words were to be believed. Mistress Madonna's ears however were blocked to the condemnations and threats and she rose slowly to her feet, smoothed down her skirt and looked The Judge straight in the eye. The question was straightforward and to the point.

  "Have you finished?"

  "Finished? I've not even started. You stupid tarts are going to pay for this. I'll put you away. I don't know what you're up to but you won't get away with it. You're lunatics . . . "

  That was as far as she got. Mistress Madonna had had enough. As The Judge's eyes had been focussing totally on three sex-laden bodies, the item that Mistress Madonna then snapped up had remained previously unnoticed by her. It did not remain so for long as in a very practised movement, Mistress Madonna rammed the rubber ball between her lips and buckled the gag tightly at the back of her neck. The rubber tasted foul on her tongue and the ball was of a size that forced her jaws painfully and widely apart.

  There was no screaming now, she could not do anything but splutter ineffectively and struggle frantically in a useless attempt to break free from The Daughters' grasp. Snorting air through her nostrils her mind boiled with unanswerable questions. What were these maniacs up to? What did they want? Why had The Colonel delivered her into their clutches?

  Fingers extended, Mistress Madonna's hand moved towards her face and a panic like she had never known before overwhelmed her. Exquisitely manicured as they were, those long black-painted fingernails were lethal; scraped down her cheeks, they would leave marks that would last for days, maybe even permanently. But she soon realised that that was not the intention. An almost tender hand caressed her cheek.

  "Don't be frightened my pretty, we're not going to hurt you. We like you. We're going to give you what you really want. Not sex, because you only think that you want that, but what deep down inside you desperately crave for . . . punishment and domination. "

  The Judge did not like the sound of that one little bit, after all that was her territory. She struggled with greater vigour but she may as well have tried to break loose from the grip of a sumo wrestler for all the good it did. Mistress Madonna paid her no attention whatsoever and as she laid her hand on The Judge's head and applied the bare minimum of pressure, for some unfathomable reason she found herself wilting. Although she willed her disobeying legs to resist, she could not help herself and sank slowly to her knees.

  "Good girl. You see, Mistress Madonna always knows best. In any case you gave yourself away in court. Everyone else thought that you were shocked by my appearance; but not me. The way you reacted to me was like a semaphore signal. If you know how to decipher it, which I most certainly do, a sign like that is unmistakable."

  The Judge's mind was in turmoil. She was in distress but she still understood Mistress Madonna's meaning. Sometimes her self-imposed restrictions on the enjoyment of life had proved almost impossible to bear and now after just a few minutes, her inhibitions were slipping away. There she was, tightly gagged, on her knees in a humiliating and totally subservient position in front of a strong willed and intimidating woman and she suddenly knew that she had found her long-delayed destiny. She was well used to the feeling of power over others and now began to realise for the first time that the consistently overly harsh sentences that she had handed down to the poor wretches brought before her were merely a mechanism for relieving her own frustrations. Now she was experiencing it in the reverse direction. And unbelievably, it felt good.

  This woman was bringing home to her the truth about her years lost in the wilderness. And much as it now appealed to her, the freedom to enjoy her lesbian tendencies was not all that she was seeking. There was something more. It was not true that she did not want sex, she did, but sex alone was a secondary consideration to the need to humble herself before a superior and stronger person.

  And that person was standing right in front of her.

  Mistress Madonna bent low and with her hand under The Judge's chin, lifted her head.

  "Now, if you promise to be good, I'm going to take that nasty gag out of your mouth. Do you promise?"

  Her nodded assent seemed to be all that was needed, Mistress Madonna unbuckling the straps and easing the rubber ball from her mouth almost immediately and then patting her head in the same way that she would a pet dog. Although she was not to know it as yet, she was being dealt with in an extremely low-key manner; all of this being completely new to her, Mistress Madonna was easing her in very gently indeed.

  Looking up at the three Daughters, their overt sexuality rolled over her so powerfully that she could almost feel it. This was heady stuff. Unbelievably her nipples stiffened and her long abandoned vagina began to flow with lubricating juices. She began to feel really alive for the first time in years and although she now realised that it was most unlikely, she began to visualise one, or perhaps all three of The Daughters pleasuring her in the most outrageously satisfying of ways.

  Fingers rolled and manipulated her erect nipples, smooth hands stroked her thighs, kisses fe
ll in abundance all over her naked body and most thrilling of all Mistress Madonna's tongue lapped her rampant vagina before sinking itself deep inside her lusting tunnel. The sensations aroused by that busy tongue were amplified to an immeasurable extent by probing fingers that joined it to rub and excite her rapidly emerging clitoris.

  Ever increasing ripples of arousal radiated from the nub of her sex along every nerve path in her body, manifesting themselves as pricking tingles of electricity that leapt and bounced all over every intimate and delicate part of her anatomy. She was becoming alive, sensual, and for the first time in her life she felt sexy. Horny and ready for anything.

  Anything but a man that is.

  It was ecstasy. And unfortunately it was also pure fantasy. The host of erotic thoughts that had flashed through her mind in a millisecond was dashed in an equally minute space of time.

  "Take that silly look off your face!"

  Shaken from her reverie, The Judge flushed guiltily.

  "Whatever it was you were thinking of, don't do it again. Allow your attention to wander from me again and you'll be punished. Understand?"

  She was not sure that she did. She took too long pondering the question and her answer did not come sufficiently quickly, precipitating her first lesson in obedience. It was so swift that she never saw it coming, the open-palmed slap exploding on her cheek with a force that catapulted an instant yelp of pain from her mouth and a flood of tears from her eyes. It was not only the pain, it was also the shock; no one had laid a finger on her since she had left boarding school. The hags who had taught there had regularly subjected her to corporal punishment and with a sudden flash of understanding she realised that in a perverse way she had enjoyed it. In fact the more she thought about it, the more she remembered that on innumerable occasions she had deliberately courted a beating, only to ease the resulting tide of raised emotions in sessions of solitary or mutual masturbation with her dormitory companions. She had spent countless long nights in other girls' beds, sucking their barely developed tits and lapping her tongue over their hairless fannies. She had known little then about the mechanics of sex but she had discovered that rubbing the little nub that hid inside her inner labia, just above the entrance to her vagina, generated the most intense sensations and if continued long enough brought about a shattering, juddering climax.

  She had passed on her discovery to the other girls, who from then on had spent much of their time playing with themselves, so much so that the dormitory was sometimes one seething coven of grunting, sweating adolescents desperately trying to pleasure each other. The pursuit of the newly discovered but wonderful feeling that was the reward for such behaviour overtook every other form of activity. That is, until as was bound to happen, one night they were discovered and forced to take long ice-cold showers to calm themselves down and to cleanse away the sins of their filthy behaviour.

  Once again she had lost herself in her thoughts and it was only when Mistress Madonna took hold of her shoulders and shook her vigorously that she returned to the present.

  "Oh dear, not very attentive are we? Are you like this in court? No wonder everyone you try is guilty, you don't listen to the evidence, do you?"

  "Of course I do, I . . . "

  That was as far as she got. This time it was Mistress Magenta who dealt out the punishment, a smart crack across her backside with a particularly supple cane. Even through her skirt the pain was intense. She screamed. Again.

  "Don't answer back and from now on speak only when spoken to. Remember that I am now your Mistress and address me as such, that is if I deign to give you permission to speak. If I give you an order, obey it at once. Scream if you have to, no one will hear except The Colonel and I don't think he's about to come racing to your rescue, do you? You're disappointing me, if you're to become our slave, your behaviour will have to improve greatly."

  "Your slave? What do you mean?"

  The cane immediately fell again. Not once but six gut-wrenching times. The agony was excruciating, causing The Judge to howl out loud and shuffle about in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Mistress Madonna took over once more.

  "I don't know how to make this any plainer but I'll try and spell it out in words of one syllable: Keep your big mouth shut! You've got one more chance and then the gag goes back in. Is that clear enough?"

  "Ye....."

  Faster than thought the word had formed itself on her lips but she managed to catch it in time, instead nodding her acquiescence.

  "Good, you're learning at last. But you did something else as well, you did not address me as Mistress. For that there will be an extra punishment, but that can come later, for the moment we'd better do something about your appearance."

  After preparing herself for her night out, The Judge had thought that her appearance was all that it should be. Mistress Madonna obviously thought differently.

  "Stand up and take off your clothes."

  Rebellion welled up in The Judge's breast.

  "I will not."

  "I seem to recall that Mistress Madonna just told you to obey her commands without question. But you haven't, have you? "

  There was no reply, The Judge really was learning.

  "It's all right, you can answer."

  The Judge made a very reluctant confirmation in a very small voice.

  "It's very plain to me that you are a bad, naughty girl and Mistress Madonna doesn't like naughty girls. She smacks their legs. Very hard."

  And she did. Pulling The Judge's skirt above her knees she delivered a swift flurry of stinging slaps to her legs. They hurt like the devil and a startled scream rushed from her lips.

  "Now, let's start again. Take your clothes off; you can start with the jacket."

  Suitably chastened. The Judge slipped the jacket of her severe two-piece suit from her shoulders and handed it over. Mistress Madonna turned it inside out, snorting in derision as she inspected the famous designer label. She was not impressed.

  "You obviously lack the most basic sense of fashion, cost is no guarantee of quality and the ability to pay outrageous prices for this sort of tat is even less a guarantee of taste."

  The Judge was then ordered to remove the rest of her clothes, feeling a rising tide of embarrassment as each item was inspected before being thrown aside. Her skirt went first, after that it was her blouse and then her tights. When an expanse of white thigh flesh was on view and they were stretched around her knees, she was suddenly ordered to stop, leaving her standing in a most embarrassing position.

  "Just one little thing before you carry on. I think you should know that real women do not wear tights. Alright, get on with it."

  The tights were tugged over her feet, leaving her standing in her brassiere and knickers. It was proving very difficult and humiliating for her to reveal her body to the three perfect specimens of womanhood watching her so intently. She hesitated for a moment. A stinging slash from Mistress Magenta's cane urged her to continue.

  Shrugging off the straps and then twisting her brassiere around so that the fastenings were at the front in the valley of her cleavage, she unhooked them and shrugged the old fashioned item of underwear down over her arms, allowing her over ample breasts to hang free. She had actually felt rather proud of her breasts but now surrounded by three pairs of the most perfect mammaries imaginable, she tried to hide them from view by crossing her arms over them. Mistress Madonna was less than amused.

  "Ashamed, are we? Well we want to look, don't we ladies?"

  Picking up a length of white rope, she handed it to Mistress Maria who knew exactly what to do with it. The Judge's arms were pulled behind her back and she felt the rope biting into her flesh as first her elbows and then her wrists were bound tightly together. But the thrill that surged through her as she felt Mistress Madonna's hands tuck themselves under her breasts was undeniable. Smooth palms c
upped her heavy mounds, weighing them momentarily before whipping away and then smacking viciously back and forth across their tender surfaces.

  The sudden pain was not so unexpected now and even raised a flutter of arousal; she was discovering a universal truth which had been hidden from her up till now, and that was that pain and pleasure are just two different aspects of the same emotion.

  "Paps. That's all she's got. I've seen better udders on a bullock."

  Mistresses Magenta and Maria dutifully sniggered at the put down. A sort of despair arose to dampen the increasing euphoria The Judge had been feeling until then. She began to realise that her being a judge counted for nothing in the face of these beautiful and domineering women.

  Mistress Magenta and Mistress Maria then started a banter that was obviously meant to be hurtful and belittling.

  "What do you think she's got under her knickers?"

  "Something awful, I should think. All dried up with horrible stretchy flaps."

  "Probably shaved as well. They all do that, these old hags."

  Mistress Madonna butted in. "You're probably right, so we'd better have a look hadn't we?"

  So they did. And much to The Judge's shame, they were very much in the right.

  After the giggles had subsided Mistress Madonna told The Judge to widen her stance and taking the cane from her sister pushed it between her legs. Whipping from side to side, the cane stung with the bite of a thousand wasps as it travelled up to punish her inner thighs before coming to rest sunk into the dripping slit of her sex. The pain was staggering but it had the effect of stoking her passions into overload and as the cane touched her most private of parts a jolt of electrifying intensity exploded in her vagina, radiating a tingling, shuddering and mind-numbing series of sexual convulsions throughout her body.

  Screaming in ecstasy she shook in the throes of her very first adult orgasm. It went on and on, her knees weakening and her senses reeling. She could never have imagined anything so wonderful and as she began to come down from the most shattering and overwhelming experience of her life she found herself bitterly regretting all her years of prudish abstinence.