The Judge

THE POLICE SERGEANT PULLED Julian's arms behind his back with an unfeeling roughness, clamping a pair of steel handcuffs tightly over his wrists before pushing him backwards down onto the splintered seat of a beaten up and ancient wooden stool. Above his head a single naked bulb on the end of a length of fraying electric cable hung from the stone ceiling throwing a halo of light around him. Otherwise the interior of the fusty, dank cellar was an almost impenetrable blackness.

Julian was shivering with a combination of fright and cold and because he had been stripped naked, with no clothing to protect his goose-pimpled flesh, the sharp edges of the cracked wood bit into the undersides of his thighs, scoured his backside and caught themselves in the loose skin of his scrotum as he shuffled uncomfortably on the seat. His body was vividly bruised and marked with the telltale tramline ridges that were the sign of a very recent sound and ruthless caning. He had been beaten almost to a pulp and intermittent teardrops still trickled down his dirt-stained cheeks following the paths left by the earlier floods of tears that had flowed when the intensity of the thrashing was at its most painful height. His underpants, which had been stuffed deep into his mouth as a makeshift gag, were pulled from his lips leaving him spluttering and gasping for breath. The bulbous business end of an old style police truncheon tapped lightly but threateningly on the purple glans of his poor abused cock, which incredibly considering the circumstances, was stiffly and throbbingly erect. Inflicted by the hands of a person in authority, pain did that to him, in fact the tortured straining of his rock hard dick was contributing greatly to the awful torment he was undergoing.

In an attempt to nullify his thoughts and direct his attention away from the awful physical anguish that he was suffering, Julian tried to concentrate his mind on subjects that did not involve cocks or pain. He thought of his favourite car of the moment, a brand new Lamborghini Diablo. It did no good. He tried to work out how many millions he was worth in cash, property and assets. It was futile. The pain and the suffering remained, just as awful as ever. He could not believe it. This was how the police dealt with criminals and subversives in the barbarous regimes of Eastern Europe and the third world. But this was England and such a thing should not have been happening in a democratic country, especially to a sophisticated pillar of society such as he was.

The barbarous treatment that he had already received at the hands of the law showed that Julian's high business and social standing meant nothing in the present circumstances. Breaking the heavy silence, the sergeant's sneering voice confirmed that fact, carrying with it a tone that implied that it rather hoped that the answer to the question being posed would not be in the affirmative.

"Now then sonny boy, don't you think you've had enough? Just tell me what I want to know and all this can come to an end."

"Shan't."

"You will eventually, you can be very sure of that. And you'll save yourself a lot of pain."

"Don't care."

"In that case you asked for it."

In an instant the heavy truncheon swung back and a swift blow to Julian's unsuspecting cock sent a current of sickening agony surging through his entire body, precipitating a squealing yell of intense agony. But his uncontrollable outburst was only the first of many. One, two, three . . . four more thudding, mind-numbing strikes landed on his defenceless manhood. The screaming turned to prolonged howls of anguish as he thrashed around on the stool, wrestling with the handcuffs in an attempt to free his hands in order to comfort his mashed cock. All he succeeded in doing was to dig the splinters more deeply into his flesh, thus causing himself even more pain.

As his agony began to subside so did the howls until at last he was able to gasp out a flurry of curses directed at the sergeant.

"You fucking bastard. You perverted cunt. I'll have you off the force for this. I know the Chief Constable."

"So do I sonny. And a lot better than you."

There was no answer to that. Having heard various scurrilous rumours concerning the Chief Constable, Julian knew that it was very possible indeed that the sergeant did have a far closer relationship to him than he did. With steely eyes never losing Julian for an instant, the sergeant began to circle him slowly and deliberately, not striking him purposefully but every now and then idly allowing the truncheon to fall heavily and painfully on various parts of his bruised and tortured anatomy. Eventually the sergeant stopped and stood directly in front of him, studying him with a sort of resigned but questioning look.

Julian tried to steel himself for what was coming.

"We're not getting very far here, are we? I think it's time we tried something else."

"Jesus Christ, no! Haven't you done enough already?"

"Don't be stupid, I've only just started. Of course you could just admit it and all this would stop."

"Now it's your turn to be fucking stupid."

The sergeant was anything but stupid, which Julian knew very well. But it was too late, what had been said could not be unsaid. His fate was sealed.

Disappearing into the darkness for a moment, the sergeant reappeared waving an instrument, the sight of which froze Julian's blood in his veins. He began to tremble even more fiercely; he felt boiling hot and icy cold at the same time. His mouth dried completely and although he tried to croak out an admission of defeat, he was unable to raise even a whisper.

"Nothing to say, eh? I had thought that this cattle prod would loosen up even your infantile idiotic mouth. Alright I'll just have to try something else."

Julian's sense of relief was beyond measure. He could not believe his luck, the sergeant had mistaken his silence for a kind of misguided defiance and threw the prod back into the gloom. After an unfortunate incident some years earlier, the one thing that he never wanted to experience again was the dreadful stunning electric shock delivered by that instrument of torture. Strength began to return to his body and within moments, he was beginning to congratulate himself on being a really clever boy.

His confidence was not about to last.

The sergeant was wearing a somewhat physically restrictive regulation Metropolitan Police uniform and in an exaggeratedly theatrical display began unbuttoning the tunic. Julian stared in disbelief, he was really in for it now, that was a foregone conclusion. Once the tight coat had been removed the sergeant would have a much greater freedom of swing and the strikes from the whip, the cane, the truncheon or whatever was coming would now fall with greatly increased ferocity.

The tunic was dropped to the floor, the tie discarded and the collar of the crisp white shirt was pulled open. Sweat began to glisten on Julian's brow and his fears once more began to overwhelm him. His persecutor possessed a fiendish, inventive mind and Julian began to conjure up full colour images of all kinds of horrific, devilish torments that could be inflicted upon him. And as the remaining fastenings down the front of the shirt were pulled open one by one and the sergeant stripped to the waist and revealed a well defined torso that was obviously kept in tip-top shape, his worst fears seemed about to be confirmed. The danger signal flashed in his brain as he tried desperately to gather together what was left of his courage and resistance.

He was going to fail, he knew it and as the tight black skirt was inched upwards over a pair of smooth lower thighs and the broad-banded tops of a pair of sheer black stockings appeared, he knew that his destiny was sealed. Black painted fingernails dug into the material on either side of the skirt and hitched it even higher, revealing luscious pale upper thighs, black suspenders and the first wisps of jet black and curly pubic hair.

Finally the hat, with its black and white chequered band, was whipped from her head and the severely scraped back ebony tresses were shaken loose to fall over her shoulders. Wonderful, heavy breasts were thrust forwards as she took their thimble-sized nipples between her fingers and thumbs and rolled them suggestively.

"You wish it were you doing this, don't you?"

He did. More than words could say.

The hands returned to the skirt, hitching it right up over her thighs. Julian's jaw dropped wide open. The sergeant was not wearing knickers and there right before his eyes was the most marvellous fanny he had ever seen. He longed for it. He wanted to shag it. He wanted to kiss and suck and lick it. The sergeant played upon his obvious lust for her body.

"If I let you fuck me, will you tell me what I want to know?"

"Oh God, yes. Let me. Let me now!"

The fanny inched closer to Julian, the outrageous height of the sergeant's spiky stiletto-heeled shoes raising it to a level that allowed him to look straight at the vulva and brought its mouth watering fragrance floating to his nose. His penis began jerking involuntarily and a trickle of clear liquid oozed from the eye of his glans.

"Tell me then."

"No. Not 'til I get my cock stuck right up your cunt."

"Oh no. You don't think that I'm going to let you stick that little boy's excuse for a dick in me until you've told me, do you? After you've fucked me, you might be a bad boy and not tell me."

He barely recognised the insult for what it was. He was too engrossed in visions of fucking a police person.

"I wouldn't do that."

The sergeant was adamant. She did not believe him. She could not take the chance of him reneging on his promise. And so she piled on the pressure, her fingers slipping down to her vagina and dipping inside her labia. Pushing them up into her tunnel she pleasured herself for a few moments and then turned her attention back to Julian.

She passed her juice soaked fingers under his nose, permitting him to savour the heady aphrodisiacal fragrance that had come straight from the inside of her vagina. Then she slowly ran her palm back down over her taut flat belly and re-inserted her fingers into the nest of all his desires.

"These fingers could be your cock. Are you sure you don't want to think it over?"

He already had.

"Alright, alright! I fucking well did it. I did it and it made me a fortune. Now unlock these fucking handcuffs and you'll soon find out my cock's not little. It's big. Big enough to fuck your arse off, and that's what I'm going to do."

The response was a resounding snort of derision.

"You silly little man. You pathetic prat. You've spilled the beans and you're of no further use to me whatsoever. Didn't you think about that?"

As a matter of fact, he had.

"You're not going to fuck me, now or ever. You can do whatever you like when I've gone, toss yourself off if you want to, that's the best you're going to get."

"Bastard! Cunt! When I get out of this, you'll be sorry you ever messed with me."

"I don't think so. But if you don't button your lip, you'll be the sorriest excuse for a turd that ever lived."

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 conformity 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 forested 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.

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 fell 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 cupped 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.

Sex was not dirty or horrid. It was the most all-encompassing and thrilling feeling imaginable. Her eyes fixed themselves fawningly onto Mistress Madonna. She was in love. There was no question about that. Head over heels. But as had been proved to Julian, to love did not guarantee that love would be returned. In fact in Mistress Madonna's case it merely meant that her astronomical fees would be raised even higher.

As much as her shattering climax had come as a surprise to The Judge, Mistress Madonna appeared to have been equally as surprised. Turning to her sisters she gave them a questioning shrug.

"Well, there's always a first time. No fingers, no tongue, no cock and she erupts like a volcano. I've never seen anything like it."

Neither had they. The Judge was not to know it but sex with a client, or in her case a victim was strictly taboo and it was a very rare occurrence indeed for one of them to be directly responsible for bringing a slave to orgasm. It had been completely unexpected not only to them but to The Judge herself. Away from The Judge's hearing they held a whispered conference, after a short while obviously coming to a unanimous agreement.

Mistress Madonna directed a long disparaging stare at The Judge.

"Come over here; on your knees."

No second bidding was needed, The Judge complied immediately but with her arms bound behind her back she could only move in an awkward shuffle. Watching with a fascinated interest, she looked on as Mistress Madonna dipped into her bag and brought out two huge penis shaped items that she did not recognise. This was a new development. She had no experience of that sort of thing and wondered what their intended use could be. She did not have to wonder for long.

The look of puzzlement on her face communicated itself to Mistress Madonna.

"Of course, I should have realised. You don't know what these are, do you? These are vibrators, dildos if you want to call them that. And do you know where we put them?"

The Judge had a dreadful premonition as to the answer to that question. She was not at all sure that she wanted to know.

"Don't fret my pretty, Mistress Madonna wouldn't do anything to really hurt you."

What! She had already thrashed her with a severity that would have merited a very lengthy sentence in her court. That is before her present experience. Now she was not so sure.

After smearing a coating of lubricating jelly over the vibrators, Mistress Madonna handed one to each of her sisters, then beckoning The Judge she made her rest her chin on the floor so that her backside was sticking up in the air. The Judge waited in apprehension as both of them positioned themselves behind her.

"Magenta you go first."

The Judge lifted her head and tried to twist it around in an attempt to see what was happening. For her efforts she was rewarded with a series of hard, stinging slaps from Mistress Madonna.

"Eyes front. And keep still, if you want to look somewhere, cast your eyes over this."

The 'this' in question was Mistress Madonna's exquisite vagina. So look at it she did, squinting upwards as the woman knelt before her face, with the hungriest eyes apart from Julian's that Mistress Madonna could recall seeing in a very long time. But when a cool hand parted her legs and long fingers dipped into her vagina and parted her sex lips, she almost dissolved in an uncontrollable instantaneous orgasm. Something that did not go unnoticed by Mistress Madonna. A sharp reprimand cooled her passions somewhat.

"Control yourself. Come without my consent again and you'll be very sorry indeed. You wouldn't like Mistress Madonna to get angry, would you?"

She would not and pulling herself together, she fidgeted as something hard was pressed in the entrance to her hole. It did not take much imagination for her to realise that she was about to be speared by one of the dildos. Her recent orgasm had lubricated her vagina somewhat in any case and combined with the KY jelly it allowed for easy penetration of the entrance to her vagina.

But the rest of her tunnel was still tightly closed and more than a little pushing and manipulation was required to get it in right up to the hilt. But when it was there she felt wonderfully full and again bitterly regretted that she had denied herself pleasure of that sort for so many years.

"There, you enjoyed that, I know you did."

She recognised Mistress Magenta's voice and also that what it had said was true, she did like it very much indeed.

Then something totally unexpected happened. The other vibrator nudged into the pucker of her anus. She could not believe it, Mistress Maria could not be intending to stick that huge thing up her arse. But she was.

"Just relax and it won't hurt, I promise."

And because Mistress Maria was so experienced in matters of that kind, her word was true and The Judge felt nothing more than a little discomfort as the stiff plastic was pushed through her sphincters and then past that curve a little further in. But now she did feel well and truly stuffed. And when the batteries were activated and the vibrators began pulsing in their respective holes, the thrill was breathtaking.

"Remember, no coming or you'll be sorry."

The Judge steeled herself to obey. She was determined not to let her Mistresses down but she was not in any way sure that she could hold out against the fast building fire in her vagina.

It was then time for The Judge to take a more active part. She did not know it but this was what the Mistresses had been discussing in their little conference. It was a firm rule: No sex with clients. But this was different. They never dealt with women and the only reason that they were doing so now was to save Julian from jail. Money was not their sole object and so for once they had agreed to gain something sexual for themselves from the encounter.

While Mistress Madonna stood up and watched, Mistress Magenta and Mistress Maria arranged themselves side by side on the huge sofa and opened their legs wide. No words were necessary, this was what The Judge had been waiting for. The trouble was that she did not know where to start. Her tongue salivating in expectation, she hesitated until an indication from Mistress Madonna prompted her to shuffle between Mistress Maria's legs.

Unable to use her hands for support, or anything else for that matter, The Judge planted her knees firmly into the deep pile of the carpet and bent over from the waist. The musky aroma close to Mistress Maria's sex was heavenly and as she nuzzled up to the forested vulva and began lapping at it like a hungry cat laps up milk she felt more alive and vibrant than ever before in her life. Fuck being a Judge; the crude expletive flashed with shocking ease into her mind. This was what she wanted. Now and forever.

Apart from her adolescent fumblings she really had no idea how to perform cunnilingus, but it turned out that she was a natural, doing all the right things by instinct. Using her nose to push them apart, she dipped inside Mistress Maria's labia, using its tip to rub and excite the rapidly hardening nub of her clitoris, while at the same time she drove her tongue deep into her tight, tasty vagina.

The groans and whimpers that greeted her efforts filled her with both confidence and pride. Trying to ignore the stimulation of the vibrators in her own holes, she sucked and lapped until suddenly Mistress Maria clamped her thighs around her bobbing head and erupted into a noisy and shuddering climax.

Her thighs loosening their grip, Mistress Maria sank back into the sofa, a low sigh of contentment communicating her satisfaction to the others.

"Not bad for an amateur."

Mistress Madonna's faint words of praise filled The Judge with pride, at last she was doing something right.

"Don't just kneel there looking smug, attend to Mistress Magenta."

It was very much the same as before. She really did seem to have a natural inbuilt capacity for pleasuring another woman. Mistress Magenta was slowly and surely brought to a squealing climax, equally as satisfying as her sister's had been.

For The Judge the big moment had finally arrived. Mistress Madonna would surely want to take her turn to be pleasured. But her own lusting excitement at the thought of tasting Mistress Madonna's vagina, combined with the incessant stimulation of the pulsing vibrators were threatening to ruin everything. She steeled herself to ignore the fat imitation phalluses blocking her holes and tried to concentrate her thoughts solely on Mistress Madonna.

Straining at the bit, the tension rose as she was beckoned over. She could not wait to get at the wonderful vagina, to nuzzle and suck it and to taste the musky tang of its juices.

"Not so fast. I'm going to untie your hands, they may come in useful."

Ordering her to turn around, Mistress Madonna unpicked the tight knots and The Judge gratefully rubbed the life back into her wrists. She had not dared to complain but she had been suffering agonies in her back, being forced to bend for all that length of time and unable to support herself with her arms. She was allowed a little time before being ordered back to her duties.

Standing over her, Mistress Madonna swept the split front of her dress aside and opened her legs wide.

"Alright my pretty, let's see what you can do for me."

Settling back onto her haunches, which with vibrating dildos sticking out of both her vagina and her anus was not the easiest thing to do, she ran her fingers lightly up the insides of Mistress Madonna's thighs. Feeling her Mistress stiffening in response, she replaced her fingers with tender but urgent kisses. Mistress Madonna's creamy flesh was smooth and supple beneath her lips and she filled with a great sense of pride, knowing that she was not failing in her attempts to arouse her Mistress.

Taking the final plunge, The Judge slipped her palms under Mistress Madonna's buttocks and pulled her sex right up to her eager lips and took her first taste of Heaven. It was as nectar from the Gods. Mistress Madonna's sex juices flowed in abundance, flooding over The Judge's tongue and running down her chin. She felt intoxicated, her heart thudded against her ribs and her pulse raced. Her tongue worked faster and deeper into the magical tunnel until Mistress Madonna began to wriggle and sigh as what was promising to be a very spectacular climax rapidly approached. Grabbing The Judge's head, she pressed it even tighter to her sex, almost suffocating her as she erupted in a raging orgasm. Shudder after shudder racked her body as with her nose deep within her Mistress' sex lips, The Judge used her tongue and lips to rasp, lick and suck her to a shattering climax.

The Judge gratefully sucked in air as Mistress Madonna gradually loosed her grip and slipped her hands from around her head. Although she allowed herself only a minute or so to recover, it seemed like hours to The Judge before Mistress Madonna spoke.

"Hmm. Quite satisfactory I suppose but you really need proper training. Maybe we can see to it."

Misery and exhilaration fought each other to take first place in The Judge's fractured thoughts. She felt like bursting into tears because she had not been rewarded with praise for her very successful pleasuring of her Mistress. On the other hand she felt like shouting for joy because there had been a hint in Mistress Madonna's words that she would be taken in hand and her association with The Daughters would not end here.

However a much more urgent problem was plaguing her. And that involved the dildos. They were still pulsing away inside her holes and now that her full attention was once again totally centred on them she felt increasingly unable to follow her orders. She had to climax, how could she carry on without that wonderful release? She could not. And that was all that there was to it. Her mind was set on it. But then again it would involve unknown retribution from Mistress Madonna and that was also something that she did not want to risk.

As it happened her dilemma was about to be solved for her. Mistress Madonna had once more joined her sisters on the sofa.

"You'd like Mistress Madonna to give you permission to come, wouldn't you?"

The Judge nodded her head vigorously, unsure if she was allowed to answer or not.

"And you'd like her to do it for you, is that right?"

Oh God, would she! This time her head nodded frantically. More than anything else she wanted her Mistress to take hold of the dildos and stoke her into ecstasy. But if something did not happen soon, the problem would become purely academic. She was on the brink as it was.

"I thought I'd made it very clear that neither Mistress Madonna nor her sisters want anything to do with your vile body. But there is a solution. We could allow you to do it for yourself."

Anything at all would do now. If that was the only way, please let her say so. As fast as possible.

"Yes . . I think we will. But not quite just yet. Be a good girl and hold on for a minute."

Lurking out of sight behind the heavy drapes drawn across the giant bay window that normally allowed an all-encompassing view over The Colonel's estate, an interested party had been excitedly following everything that had happened in the room. Lifting her voice Mistress Madonna called over to him.

"Al right, you can come out now."

Needing no second bidding, preceded by his rearing, pulsing cock he burst through the curtains. The Judge was aghast, the rampaging filthy cock was bad enough but it was the person it was attached to that shocked her to the core. It was none other than the criminal fraudster that she was dealing with in her court. It was Julian.

Horrified as she was, her lusting need did not diminish one iota.

"Now, you can frig yourself silly if you want to."

Somehow she felt that Mistress Madonna would be very pleased if she did, so despite the disgusting interloper, or maybe because of him, in a second she set to it. But she was in something of a dilemma. Exactly how to do it. But with surprising ease the solution came to her and getting onto her knees and one elbow, she reached under her legs with one hand to take hold of the dildo blocking her vagina and slipping the other hand over her buttocks she grasped the one stuck firmly up her anus. Slowly but surely she began to pump them in and out, gradually increasing the speed and stroke of each plunging thrust. Very soon she was lost to everything but the pulsing, pumping dildos that were stoking her into a frenzy.

Seeing that The Judge had divorced herself from the proceedings, Mistress Madonna turned her attention to Julian. He was just standing there wide-eyed looking at The Judge.

"Well?"

He hesitated, his eyes still fixed on The Judge, shamelessly frigging herself before him.

"Even though you were a very naughty boy, Mistress Madonna set all this up just for you and now you just stand there. Are you going to do it, or have I just wasted my precious time?"

He had enough experience not to cross his Mistress and this time answered immediately. Yes, he would do it, but only if she opened her legs and showed him her cunt, he couldn't manage it just looking at The Judge.

"In this instance, I'll let you look, but when it's all over I'm going to charge you double and flay the skin off your back for being such a disgusting little boy. You know that you shouldn't speak to Mistress Madonna in that filthy way. Now, GET ON WITH IT! And remember to do exactly what I told you."

Standing over The Judge's head but with his eyes fixed on the most magical twat in the universe, he clasped his throbbing weapon in both hands and began to slide his closed fists up and down its pulsing, throbbing length. There were now two of her slaves wanking in front of Mistress Madonna, it would not be long before her evening's work arrived at a very satisfactory conclusion. With her climax almost upon her, The Judge burned and writhed in a welter of raging passion. Her fanny was on fire, her engorged labia swollen and her clitoris hugely enlarged and rigidly erect. As she plunged the two dildos deeper and deeper inside her, Julian frantically tugged and yanked his cock. The Judge's climax hit with an intensity that was so powerful that her limbs shook helplessly and with her eyes screwed tightly shut she squealed out loud in wanton abandon. At the same time Julian's orgasm hit home and following Mistress Madonna's instructions he hung on to his cock and sprayed his considerable streams of hot sperm all over The Judge's body, her up-turned face and her hair, one huge spurt shooting straight over the length of her spine and splattering between her buttocks.

In the throes of her orgasm The Judge had felt globules of wet, hot, sticky stuff raining down onto her face but she was too far gone to bother with it at that moment. And even when the remnants of a shot of spunk trickled onto her tongue she swallowed it without any thought as to what it was although the soapy taste remained in her mouth.

Julian continued to wrestle with his cock until every single drop of sperm had been wrung from his bollocks and with her raging senses finally calming down and with sperm dripping from her chin, The Judge opened her eyes and found Julian standing over her, his dripping weapon still clutched in his fists. With a horrified shock she realised what it was that was sticking in her hair, running into her eyes and meandering slowly down her cheeks. The wretched humiliation that washed over her was too much to bear. And it was exactly what Mistress Madonna had been working up to.

An insane rage transmitted itself to her salty tongue and she began to scream obscenities and threats at the hapless Julian. She was very soon put in her place.

"Shut up! Immediately."

Amazing herself, she did as she told without thought or argument. She was ensnared and under Mistress Madonna's power, whether she liked it or not. But the undeniable thing was, she did like it. The humiliation probably more than the punishment. Suddenly she realised that she was not the same woman who had entered the room earlier that night. She was not entirely sure that she liked that but there was nothing she could do about it now. She had been played by an expert and was firmly hooked.

It was time to tie things up.

"Julian. Put that hideous thing away. And you Judge, come over here. No, don't get up, on your hands and knees."

The deep pile burning her knees, The Judge crawled over to the sofa, sperm dripping from her face onto the carpet as she did so. It was horrid and messy but she was not allowed to wipe it off, and somehow that seemed only right. Carefully avoiding the sperm Mistress Madonna bent forward and put her hands around The Judge's neck, causing her a few moments of panic. But it soon became clear that no harm was intended.

"What collar size are you?"

She did not know.

"No matter, I've no doubt this will fit nicely."

And it did. A thick and wide, steel studded leather collar was buckled around her neck. And she loved that too. She was very fast becoming the perfect slave, unthinking and totally obedient to her Mistress. She looked up at Mistress Madonna with an undeniable look of adoration on her bespoiled face. It was Julian all over again.

The look on Mistress Madonna's face was anything but fawning.

"I think that perhaps we may have given you too much too soon but I'm certain that you've enjoyed this night more than any other in your wretched life."

That was very true indeed and Mistress Madonna did not even reprimand her when she said so.

"But nothing can go on forever and there's something I want you to see before you leave us."

As far as The Judge was concerned she was never going to leave, and as for what had happened to her, then too much was not enough, and forever was not long enough. She did not want this night to end. But end it must.

Ordering Julian to follow them, Mistress Madonna got up from the sofa and clipped a short plaited dog lead into the ring on the collar and with The Judge dutifully crawling on the end of the lead, together with her sisters she led the way out of the room. Once out into the corridor, they did not go far, only into the next room in fact. What she saw in there rocked The Judge; it could not be true, Mistress Madonna would not do such a thing. But there, right before her eyes was indisputable evidence to the contrary.

In the drawing room it had been impossible for her to miss the very large ornate mirror that filled almost one wall. Now she saw that it was in fact a two-way device and standing behind it, toting a video camera was The Colonel. She leapt to the obvious conclusion.

"So that's it. Blackmail! And I was stupid enough to think I'd found something wonderful."

"Not at all dear lady. It's true I have recorded everything that happened in there, but not for any ulterior reason. Mistress Madonna thought that you might like a personal record of your evening. And everything's ready for you to take a look right now."

The video was hooked into a wide screen television set and with them all gathered around, The Colonel gave them a preview of the tape. It would have taken far too long to show it all so he fast forwarded from one juicy scene to the next. Just as Mistress Madonna had said, everything was there; the beatings, the cunnilingus, the orgasms and the spunk. And amazingly enough when The Judge saw it, she was much more than thrilled as she witnessed Julian's showering sperm falling all over her naked body.

As the video ended, Mistress Madonna pulled the dildos from her body. Plopping, squishing, sucking sounds resonated around the wood-panelled room as her holes fought to retain their originally unwanted occupants. They had felt marvellous, nothing like she would have expected, she wanted to feel them again. And soon.

And then came the denouement. The real reason for the night's events.

"There is one little thing that we'd like you to do for us."

"What? Anything. Just say the word and I'll do it."

"It's a little awkward, it's Julian."

"Oh him."

"Well he does rely on Mistress Madonna to relieve his more extreme cravings and in prison he could fall victim to all those nasty, perverted homosexuals that fill the cells. And we wouldn't like that, would we?"

Actually The Judge would like it but realised that it would not serve her cause one little bit to admit it.

"And you would like to see Mistress Madonna again, wouldn't you? After all you did accuse her of attempted blackmail, and she really can't let that go unpunished."

That was the killer moment. She would do whatever it took, her future life depended on it. So she had only one course of action.

Julian's judgement day arrived. The Daughters and The Colonel were in court to hear the verdict. When it was delivered the court erupted into pandemonium, Julian's lawyers wiping the sweat from their unbelieving brows and reporters scurrying for the phones. The Judge announced that after much legal discussion she had found that Julian had no case to answer. He was innocent. A free man.

But what had instigated the verdict that he was innocent was not quite so free itself. It was extremely expensive. For arranging his continuing freedom and allowing him the privilege of adding to The Judge's humiliation by being allowed to wank all over her, The Daughters expected and received a hugely enhanced payment. For them it had proved an extremely profitable day. In more ways than one. Because although she had nothing like Julian's resources, Mistress Madonna had been told by The Colonel that The Judge was also an extremely wealthy person. Therefore she could afford The Daughters' hefty fees and because she had experienced what she herself had admitted was probably the best day of her life, Mistress Madonna made her pay as well.