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Miss Spiteful's War

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Enslaved In Skirts
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Rolling With Pain
The Spy Who Never Was
Ingrid's First Date
For The Love Of Willi
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Hungarian Rhapsody
Against The Clock
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Gunfight At The OKH
Up Against The Wall
City Under Fire
The End Of The Unit
The Toad Triumphs
Kill Miss Spiteful
Heil Himmler!
Mistress Storm
Miss Spiteful's Revenge
Last Exit From Berlin
The Name Of The Goddess

The Dominafuhrer 1952
Miss Spiteful's Gold

Give My Regards To Bremen

The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair

Alice And Anna
On The Beach
The Bisley Boy
Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
Stella and Fanny

The Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine

The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute

Julia

An Introduction

VO Stories

Jenny
Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss
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I Sign A Contract

The Convict

The Convict

Stories

65
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
Charles
George
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Judicial Bastinado
Kevin's Poem
Kim
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
Penitence
Plimsolls
Robin's Electrical Torture
Shoeshine Boy
Slave To The Cane
The Basement
The Colony
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
Webb Encounters
Z

The Bossy Bank Women

A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1

Norseland

The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood

EXIT

EXIT THIS SITE

The Dominafuhrer - MISS SPITEFUL'S WAR

Episode 29 - Mistress Storm

April 1945

“Here, lift your feet.” I found that I was stepping into a pair of the same skin tight, thigh length and high-heeled black leather boots that Miss Spiteful was wearing. They fitted perfectly but I wobbled a bit because I was unused to the heels and had to steady myself with a hand on the desk.

My nipples were being rouged when Miss Stiletto returned. “Hurry up, Miss Spiteful is waiting to begin.”

Miss Solitaire looked me up and down. “She’s done. Just you and me now.” They both took off their long leather coats and I saw that they were dressed identically to Miss Spiteful and myself, except that I did not have the velvet collar that the others wore. They draped waist length, black velvet capes around each others shoulders, fastened them at the throats with little gold chains and then stepped back to check each other over.

“Mein Gott!” Miss Stiletto pointed at the other’s vaginal mound. “Our klits! We must bare ourselves before the Goddess.” They stepped closer together and each hand-massaged the other’s clitoris until the organ had swollen enough to be lifted proud of the surrounding pubic hair. Still gently massaging, they kissed and rubbed their nipples against each other as my penis throbbed with interest.

“I’m so excited.” Miss Solitaire said. “The only one of these that I’ve been to was my own when Miss Spiteful came back from America.”

They put black paper masks, shaped like cat’s eyes and secured by elastic bands, over their faces and Miss Solitaire was leaning over to switch off the desk lamp when she looked at me.

“Ein moment! Ingrid does not have a klitoris.” Miss Stiletto took my enlarged penis in her cold hand and pulled back the foreskin to expose the purple glans.

“She does now.” She chuckled. “The Goddess will not be offended.”

“Sisters, we are waiting.” Miss Spiteful called out and I was turned around to face the room. Big white candles had been lit and placed in a wide circle in the centre of which stood Miss Spiteful and Miss Sapphire, who had also shed her leather coat and both of whom wore the short capes and cat masks. On the floor in front of them, Von Kreps lay curled up, naked except for a dog collar around his neck from which a chain ran to a ring bolt on the floor. Freidrich and Heinz stood guard to one side, but they had shed their SS uniforms and wore only jackboots and tight leather leggings, held up by braces that crossed their chests, exposing their genitals and buttocks.

“Is the novice ready?” Miss Spiteful called out and Miss Solitaire replied. “She is here and ready, Sister.” She took one of my arms and, with Miss Stiletto grasping the other, I was led into the circle of candles.

“Who brings this novice to the sisterhood?” Miss Spiteful asked.

“I, Mistress Solitaire, present this novice for admission to the sisterhood,” was the reply.

“Let the novice kneel.” Miss Spiteful commanded and a hand on my shoulder pressed down. It was not an easy task to kneel in those high heels and tight boots but I accomplished it without falling over.

Miss Spiteful looked down at me as if she had never seen me before. Indeed, I had seen her in every state of undress and in every mood, including being the worse for wear from alcohol but this was something new. She looked magnificent, frightening even but, oh so very desirable. Behind her, Miss Sapphire also had an exposed clitoris and rouged nipples and I was reminded briefly of a coloured photograph of Schnellboots exercising with the red warheads of their torpedoes poking out of their tubes.

Miss Sapphire had been holding a long tube of paper, which she now unrolled and hung from the X frame at the back of the lit circle, next to a glowing brazier. It was a coloured print of an ancient tile or tablet and I guessed that it was older than an Egyptian hieroglyph as it was of a different style and culture. The subject was a naked female figure with a cat’s head, big breasts and a prominent clitoris. She was whipping a naked man who was kneeling at her feet and masturbating.

Miss Spiteful turned to the print and raised her arms towards it. “Since the dawn of time,” she intoned. “Men have believed that they are more dominant than women and that we can be owned, commanded and violated at their whim. This order continued until our Goddess appeared in Sumeria and became the first Dominatrix. Since then, we have followed her directions and have turned that order around. We command, punish and use men as our slaves. We perpetuate this order by supporting our sister Dominatrix and admitting only those who are worthy and will not betray or insult the honour of our Goddess.”

“As it is above, so it is below.” The others chorused as Miss Spiteful turned back to face us. “Has the novice served a period of training with a sister of the Berlin Order?” She asked, and Miss Solitaire replied.” She has served over three years, Mistress.” This litany continued as my loyalty, honesty and worthiness were questioned and affirmed or denied when asked if I had tried to borrow money or steal a lover or a slave from a sister. Then Miss Solitaire confirmed that I had acquired the knowledge and skills needed to dominate and punish the male of the species and that I had shown courage in defence of the Order.

“Is there a slave to provide blood for the sacrifice?” Miss Spiteful called out and Von Kreps tried to stand up but was kept to his knees by the chain. “Please don’t kill me,” he whined. “I’ve let you go. Please. Please.”

Miss Spiteful looked at him with contempt. “No one in this dungeon will take your life. We only require some of your blood.” She waved to Freidrich and Heinz , who seized Von Kreps by the arms and legs and spread-eagled him on his back. Miss Solitaire lifted me to my feet and whispered, “Go and get the branding iron.”

I took the branding iron from the brazier, red hot at the business end, and stood over Von Kreps’s body. He saw it coming down and screamed as he tried to writhe out of the way but was held firmly by the two guards. There was a brief flash of flame as his pubic hair burnt and then the sizzle and smell of burning flesh. His screams reverberated around the dungeon walls as I pressed down for several seconds and, when I lifted the iron, two blackened SS figures were left inscribed on his lower stomach.

Miss Sapphire took the branding iron from me and Miss Solitaire handed me a short bull-whip as Von Kreps was hauled to his knees again. He was bent forward, sobbing with pain, his hands clutching at his groin until Miss Spiteful kicked at him with the toe of a boot.

“The slave will listen!” She commanded and he looked up, his face wet with tears and contorted with pain. “The slave will be whipped by the new Mistress until he spills his seed in her honour and she acknowledges it.” She stepped away and I brought the lash down across his bare back. He tried to jump up again and then scuttled around in a circle at the end of his chain as I rained blows on him. At last, he realised what he had been told and tried to masturbate his shrivelled penis. I was well into a rhythm now and drawing blood from his back and buttocks with every blow. Little red splashes appeared on the floor and on my boots but a red mist was forming over my own eyes as I took revenge for what he had done to me. At last, he got an erection and managed to dribble some semen on the floor beneath him. My own penis was now swollen and pulsing and I stopped and shuddered as semen spurted over his body from my exposed purple helmet. The others broke into applause as I finished my orgasm and hung my head, soaked in sweat and gasping for breath. I could not remember having felt so dominant, powerful or confident before. I tossed the bloodied lash away and realised that I had the same wicked grin that I had seen on the Mistresses when they had been punishing a victim.

Miss Spiteful motioned me to kneel again and then addressed me. “Will you take a sacred oath on the blood of this slave to be a worthy, honest and faithful sister of this order?” I almost shouted back my affirmation and she lifted me to my feet as she called out. “Do we all accept this novice into our order as a Dominatrix?”

They all responded, “We do!” and she bent down to run her hand over Von Kreps’s bloodied back. When her fingers were covered in gore, she smeared them over my naked breasts, intoning as she did so. “With the blood of this slave, I welcome you into the Berlin Order of the Dominatrix, Sister Storm”

The rush of adrenaline had made my head swim and it was a second or two before I came to terms with what had happened to me. I had not been abandoned and I was now a Dominatrix and an equal in my own right. I had fulfilled one of my fantasies but how on earth had Miss Spiteful known the name that I had called myself in secret?

Miss Solitaire draped a velvet cape over my shoulders and fastened the gold chain at my throat, followed by a black velvet collar and the black cats’ eyes mask. Then she pulled me closer to give me a big wet kiss on the lips while her hands played with my breasts and her sexual organs were pressed against mine. I started to move my hips to facilitate entry but was gently pushed away with a smile and a whispered “I’m afraid not, Mistress Storm.”

Miss Stiletto and Miss Sapphire did the same and then, to my astonishment, both Freidrich and Heinz knelt before me and masturbated onto the floor. It was only as they stood up that I saw that their pubic hair had been shaven off and that they had also been branded with the SS. Suddenly, I realised that it had nothing to do with the Nazis but marked us out as Spiteful’s Slaves.

Miss Spiteful repeated the welcoming ritual and then gave me a great big hug as she whispered in my ear. “When you came to me, did you ever believe that it would end like this?”

“No Mistress,” I croaked as my throat had gone dry with emotion. “This all that I have ever dreamed of.”

“Now listen,” she continued softly. “If you are ever in trouble, anytime, anywhere in the world, just call out to the Goddess and a sister will come to your aid. Equally, if you hear the Goddesses name called out, you are bound to go to that sister’s aid.” She whispered a name in my ear that I did not recognise, but committed to memory, and she pushed me away as Miss Solitaire approached with a tray of glasses filled with white wine. Everyone, including Freidrich and Heinz took one and waited on Miss Spiteful to speak.

“Sisters and loyal slaves. Normally these occasions end in a long drunken orgy but I think that, this time, Marshal Zhukov might be here before we finish. Therefore, we must cut the celebrations short so that we can make our escapes. I would just like to say that Mistress Storm is not the first of her status to enter the order but I cannot think of one who has proved herself more worthy. I am just sorry that you were admitted on the day that this order is dissolved.”

“Sisters and loyal slaves. Normally these occasions end in a long drunken orgy but I think that, this time, Marshal Zhukov might be here before we finish. Therefore, we must cut the celebrations short so that we can make our escapes. I would just like to say that Mistress Storm is not the first of her status to enter the order but I cannot think of one who has proved herself more worthy. I am just sorry that you were admitted on the day that this order is dissolved.”

To continue this story, click Miss Spiteful's Revenge



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