As in the introduction and previous chapters, please understand this is an illustrated novel under construction. I will no doubt change things as later events in the story, and this may affect things, causing changes in earlier chapters, so it all fits together…
Continued from previous chapter…
…The audience has settled down after the interval. It’s time for the stars of the show to take centre stage.
Samantha, the most famous Domme at the Inveigle…
And Charlotte, the most famous submissive…
Samantha, resplendent in a black and pink burlesque style dancers costume struts onto the stage, pink ostrich feathers on her head. Her pink and black mask is held on a stick. She stands erect and stares the cheering audience down to silence. She is a magnificent woman, a beautiful woman, one of the most beautiful of all ‘The Inveigle Girls’. Her strawberry blonde hair catches the light, as do her teeth and eyes.
Similar to the accolade that Sapphire received, tokens of adulation and love are thrown. Roses, handkerchiefs, knickers, and folded notes cover the stage. Tossing her mask to a grateful woman sat in the middle of the front row she turns to look at the rear of the stage and tugs a long black leather leash.
Charlotte is pulled on to the stage, and comes to stand by her Mistress.
Their eyes meet and they kiss, a passionate long sensual kiss. You could hear a pin drop.
Emma looks up to the same box which first go her attention, the lady in the black mask moves to the edge of her seat, sexily. Her right shoulder is moving rhythmically, you know without doubt what her hand is doing.
Samantha and Charlotte begin their act. It is an erotic trapeze act. It is the newest and most talked about act that The Inveigle has ever done.
Two rope ladders fall from above, so do two trapezes.
Charlotte, dressed in a forest green circus style outfit, discards her matching mask, tossing it to the lady sat next to the one who caught Samantha’s. Both girls walk in time to the music which is played by Sapphire on her violin (naked again) and sung gently by Eleanor, who before coming here was an opera and music hall singer. The music is ‘Canzonetta Sull’ aria. It’s beautiful and a trapeze will always swing beautifully in time to it, so too will the steps of a beautiful woman’s bottom climbing up a rope ladder.
In near perfect time they climb up, staring at each other in a lustful knowing gaze. They reach their platforms and climb onto their trapezes. To a gasp Charlotte falls and catches her trapeze bar in one hand, she laughs, turns to place her other hand on the bar and starts to swing. The song drifts through the air beautifully.
Samantha gracefully mounts hers, puts a foot to each side and slides down provocatively, bending her knees. The audience let out a long sigh. She then stands up again and pushes, their timing is perfect as Charlotte meets her in the middle of the air to grasp her ankles. They stare and hold their gaze for a few seconds and release, to swing back away from each other to the sides of the auditorium, and then gracefully back towards each others to show their skills.
They leap through the air, over each other, under each other, and at times it seems through each other, to raptures of applause.
Out of breath, shiny with sweat, they take their applause eagerly.
The song’s volume increases as each girl strips naked on their platform. Samantha sits on her trapeze, legs apart and swings to Charlotte who is leaning forward over hers, again she grasps her ankles, but this time slides up to lick her Mistress, to perform what was then known as ‘tipping the velvet’. An excited Samantha shudders to orgasm quickly. Charlotte is skilled in the use of tongues.
The audience cheer and the girls slide down to the stage, where Charlotte walks to a raised brass bar, on two supports. She stands legs apart and grasps the metal bar, looks over her shoulder and smiles to Samantha.
Samantha walks to her submissive.
The fame of this part of the act is the talk of the city’s underground Domme/sub culture. There was no music now; you could hear a pin drop.
Samantha looked to the audience and her eyes caught the light again as she smiled wickedly at them, Charlotte’s responsive body was a joy to see too. Public use of her body excited her to the core; she wanted to be seen being used, as much as Samantha enjoyed the public approval of her sexual skill.
Charlotte was sideways to the audience; Samantha was stood to her side facing the audience and began to run her fingernails slowly, excitingly and sensually over Charlotte’s back, all the way down to the top of her bottom. The delightful way in which Charlotte responded was observed by the drooling audience, half wanting to be Samantha, the other half wanting to be Charlotte.
Samantha bent forward, unclasped her hair and let it cascade over the back of her submissive, she began to kiss down her spine, in little steps, to stop just above her bottom. Her eyes caught the light once again, flashing for a second, like the gleam of a diamond. She stared at the audience and smiled.
Charlotte pushed up on tip toe, her bottom yearning to be licked.
Samantha straightened, with a superior look on her face, to look down at the shape of her pleasure girl. Her fingers of her right hand walked around Charlotte’s body as she arched down again, to reach around to her nipple which she tugged, squeezed and stretched. Her left hand did the same to the other nipple.
Charlotte’s knees tremble visibly, which delighted the audience.
Samantha let go, straightened her body again and slid to her right one step.
Again her eyes caught the audience as one eyebrow rose, and her right hand slid to Charlotte’s bottom. Using just one finger, as gentle as she could, she stroked up and down the crack of her bottom. She shook, and spoke… ‘Spank me Mistress, please.’
The caress continued for a short while, then stopped, it was time to spank.
The spanking began, light fast smacks, then harder, slower ones. Samantha’s hand began to rise higher and higher as the smacks got louder. Charlotte could now be heard letting out little squeals. Delight or pain? Everyone knew, it was both.
Samantha moved to the back of Charlotte, and sank to her knees, then began to lick the bright red bottom. She turned her head to the audience, her eyes bright, and wicked, but not cruel. Her hands pulled Charlotte’s dumbglutton, (as it was known in those days) apart and licked Debbie’s wet slit until she came in violent contortions and screams of pleasure, to scream loudly… ‘Fuck me Mistress!’
Samantha again turned to the packed audience, and spoke to them. ‘Shall I?’
To a woman they all shouted their response. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’
A girl came back with an oiled leather attachment which she strapped around Samantha’s waist and groin. She left, and Samantha began to stroke the glistening tool as if she was a man. Charlotte begged again, ‘Oh Mistress, please, use me now!’
Samantha turned to the audience and winked. Then she fucked her hard, until Charlotte came again, with one hand removed from the bar rubbing herself quickly.
‘I need to achieve my own pleasure again now.’ Samantha said to the audience. ‘Who on the upper tier will be the lucky winner of the golden ticket?’
Eleanour walked on to the stage again and held her hat out to a panting, heaving breasted Samantha. She rested the hat, upturned, on Charlotte’s lower back, who was now holding the bar with both hands again, she too was panting. She drew out a number and passed it over to Eleanor, who held the ticket aloft and shouted the number out. ‘Two hundred and seventy six!’
The woman in the black mask hit the edge of her box in a fury with a riding crop, stood up and walked away.
The lady in the winning seat put her half face masquerade mask up, and walked to the stairs with a friend, her ‘prize winning guest’. The audience clapped in unison waiting for them to appear on the stage to take their prize.
They walked on triumphantly, Samantha took one woman’s hand, and Charlotte took the hand of the other lady’s. Then they all walked through the curtains at the back of the stage, leaving Eleanor stood alone.
‘And that my dear Ladies is the end of the show! Goodnight all.’ The Inveigle’ wishes you all a safe journey, and we can’t wait to see you again, bye bye!’
Abigail, her hair up on the top of her head as usual, with a delicate feather arrangement, stood up in her box, turned and went to the stairs. She wore a low cut dress, which cradled her ample bosom. Her waist was always tied tight in a corset, which gave her a ruddy, wild and lusty complexion. She could have walked straight from the moors of a Bronte novel instead of the private door beside the stage. As was her manner, she surveyed the scene of a satisfied audience with pride, and with one eyebrow raised. People said she could talk with her eyebrows. Many a young Inveigle Girl had shuddered in shame at her harsh stare, eyebrow raised as she was scolded. Others had melted in her gaze of approval with both eyebrows holding the sultry eyes in their shadow.
She knew exactly what needed at all times, and the girls knew it. Without question the house girls did her bidding, so too did the show girls. She loved them all like daughters, she’d chastise and nurture as she saw fit. They loved, admired and respected her. She was the Inveigle. But most of all the girls knew one thing for certain, she would protect them, they could sleep easy in their beds because of her. She was constantly busy, always adjusting and tending. The Inveigle was her life’s passion. The girls were her children, and in both esteem and adoration she was known as ‘Mummy Bear.’
This wasn’t said behind her back, the only thing behind her back was the constantly swaying bottom of hers, still firm and pert despite its years. She knew exactly what they called her, and if she ever heard it whispered or spoken she would clasp her hands in pleasure and smile to the ceiling!
Protection was in her mind as she screwed up the ticket with the seat number of the lady in the mask. She did not trust her, there was something evil about her, she would never win a night of passion with her two treasured stars of the Inveigle stage.
She stood back to the wall, as a woman dressed in a police officer’s uniform, gently pushed by her and strode importantly to the front of the stage. She coughed, and then commanded the audience to stand and sing the National Anthem, which was the tradition in every theatre of its day.
Emma and Melanie stood, each looking into the eyes of their partner and singing, hand in hand, then, sadly, it is time to leave. Another Inveigle night over.
Masquerade masks raised again, they walk still hand in hand, lit by the gas light to the waiting row of cabs. They summon theirs, the man was ready and waiting, as always, and climb aboard.
They sit inside and talk excitedly about the show and in particular about Charlotte and Debbie. ‘How do two such young girls end up starring in a show like that?’ One of them asks the other.
That’s a very good question, so let’s begin this story of love and spanking by doing just that.
We need to go back in time a few years to a cotton mill, about twenty miles outside the capital. An austere, grey gloomy place, about as far removed from the comfortable, beautiful, and sexy Inveigle as you could possibly get.
To read chapter Four