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The Dominafuhrer
Miss Spiteful's War

The New Recruit
Enslaved In Skirts
Ingrid and Fate
Walter's Enigma
The Italian Job
The High-Heeled Contessa
Rolling With Pain
The Spy Who Never Was
Ingrid's First Date
For The Love Of Willi
Dressing For Work
The Colonel And The Nurse
Anya's Curse
Future Imperfect
Reinhardt The Rampant
The Bomb Under The Bed
Hungarian Rhapsody
Against The Clock
General Josephine
The Bomb Plot
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
Programme

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 7 - Rolling With Pain

September 1942

“Soften her up, Ingrid,” my Mistress commanded from over by her desk. She was only a figure in the gloom beyond the light, which meant that I would not have the pleasure of watching her undress but memories of previous occasions had given me many happy fantasies when masturbating. Concentrating on the prisoner, I got her to her feet, unscrewing and removing the wooden clamps on her breasts, which remained in their flattened shape, despite being released. When the crocodile clips were taken off her swollen nipples, blood oozed out of the marks left by the teeth. She sighed in relief and then caught her breath as feeling returned to her bruised and squashed breasts. When I pulled out the rubber bar with the vagina and rectum probes, she screamed, rolled her eyes upward and sagged against me. I caught her in my arms and lowered her onto her back on the frame with her head and legs dangling of either end. She had not actually fainted but no longer seemed to be aware of what was happening to her.

“Soften her up” had been the order and I knew just the instrument for that. I had used it before on men but, as this was my first in-depth interrogation of a woman, I was eager to see how she reacted to it. At first sight it was just a paint roller but the rubber tube had rows of tiny spikes sticking out of it.

“Pain and pleasure” was Miss Spiteful’s method and, having inflicted a lot of pain, it was time to try a little pleasure before reverting to the pain. I took a long look at our prisoner’s face. Despite the dirt, tears, blood and smeared makeup, I could see that she was very beautiful with deep set eyes, long elegant nose, high cheek bones and wide, sensual lips. I started stroking her temples, gradually sweeping my fingers down her face to her mouth and on to her neck. I felt the tensed muscles relax and her breathing became shallower and more even. Her eyelids fluttered and she stared upwards, not focusing on me but knowing that I was there.

“Please,” she murmured. “I cannot tell you anything. I would put my soul in peril.” So, I thought, she is admitting that she does know something. I moved down to her still misshapen breasts, gently stroking and massaging them back to their regular shape. She flinched and shifted slightly but her breath quickened and a low moan escaped her lips. I continued with this for a few minutes, also gently rolling her bruised and bleeding nipples as her moans got louder. I shifted on to her pelvic area, tracing the outline of her pubic hair and was rewarded with the clatter of her high heels on the floor. Then she lost control of her bladder and I had to jump out of the way as a little fountain of yellow liquid came up and splashed onto the floor between her feet. At last it died away to a trickle and then a steady drip from the tangle of wet hair between her thighs.

That was enough pleasure, now for some more pain. I lightly applied the roller to her left breast and then her right, moving it to and fro leaving a pattern of white indentations on her tanned skin. She moaned again but, when I pressed harder with the roller, raised her head and let out a series of sharp squeals.

As I changed the direction of the roller to up and from her shoulders to her nipples, switching from breast to breast, she opened her eyes and screamed at the pain. Some of the white pinpricks now had blood in them, which was being spread by the roller.

I realised that Miss Spiteful was standing alongside me, watching approvingly. She had stripped down to her tight boned black corset, black stockings and high-heeled boots and had put on a harness with a big black rubber dildo, which glistened with lubricant.

I put the roller down and placed one of my hands on the prisoner’s mons vagina, scratching at the pubic hair with my fingernails and then probing for the outer lips of her labia. She moaned again and shifted her hips and I pushed my fingers down into the warm, wet flesh below. She gasped and jerked her hips as I touched the parts already bruised by the rough insertion of the dildo. With my other hand I explored the area between her thighs, stroking the valley between her buttocks and poking at her sphincter. When her knees jerked up I removed both hands and reapplied the roller to her hips, moving from left to right across her groin. The pricks on the roller caught in her pubic hair and, when they touched the swollen lips of her vagina, she screamed and writhed again. Unfortunately for her, she just pressed her body harder against the roller. I pulled her thighs apart and ran the roller over the sensitive skin between the tops of her thighs and she began to babble her prayers again.

Miss Spiteful, who had been tapping her cane impatiently against the side of her boot, touched my arm. “That’s enough Ingrid. You’ve done very well. Turn her over and then go and strip off.”

“What’s she saying?” Miss Spiteful asked as I got the Contessa to her feet.

“Prayers, mistress.” I replied. “Hold her up for a moment then.” She commanded and standing close up to the prisoner, spoke in a soothing voice. “Verna, why don’t you answer my question and put an end to all this? Did you make love in English or Italian?”

“I promised. I took an oath. I cannot” Her words were slurred and she swayed on her feet and, as Miss Spiteful stepped away, I pushed her face down onto the form and fixed the strap in place again.

“Thank you, Ingrid.” Miss Spiteful took a practice swing with the cane and then began lashing the prisoner’s buttocks and thighs. It took a couple of strokes before the Contessa reacted and then she began sobbing, screaming and kicking out with her legs. I was more interested in watching my Mistress’s beautiful breasts bounce up and down with each swing of her arm.

I was not surprised to find that, when I had undressed, that I had a massive erection, which had already leaked into my knickers. I dare not touch it in case I came before my Mistress wanted me to and, when I had stripped down to my suspender belt, black stockings and boots, hurried back to her side.

The Contessa was semiconscious and blood was seeping from the vivid purple and black bruises on her body. Miss Spiteful stopped the beating and, blowing hard, grinned at me. “You really should not let me get so carried away. I enjoy my work too much. Well”, she continued, as she tossed her bloodied cane away. “I think that we are almost there. One more heave, as they say, and she will break. Get her up and remove the belt. I’ll let you go in at the front as a treat for having worked so well.” When I unstrapped the Contessa this time, I also removed the cuffs off her arms and the belt around her waist, but she was didn’t seem to notice. When I got her to her feet, her knees buckled and she murmured incoherently. Miss Spiteful stepped up behind her and took the weight from me. She put round hand round the front to cup one of the Contessa’s breasts and supported the back of her head with the other hand.

“Verna. Verna. Can you hear me?” Miss Spiteful whispered. “Did your English lover do this to you?” Her left hand softly stroked the breast it was holding, tickling the nipple, while she leant forward and nuzzled the Contessa’s ear. She then turned the Italian’s head so that they faced each other and their lips could meet. I saw my Mistress’s tongue slip forward into the other’s mouth, who groaned and responded. They kissed long but gently and the bruised nipples started to swell. The Contessa rubbed her thighs together, despite the pain that it caused her.

“Tell me Verna. When your Husband does this to you, don’t you wish that your English lover was still alive?” Miss Spiteful moved back behind the Contessa , who suddenly gasped and jerked forward as the big black dildo was forced up her rectum. Both of her breasts were now being caressed by My Mistress’s hands as she began to thrust backwards and forwards with her hips and whisper in the Contessa’s ear.

“Don’t you hate being taken like a dog? When your Husband is grunting away behind you, don’t you long to feel your English lover’s penis inside your vagina?” That was my cue to step forward, which I did so eagerly as I didn’t think that I could hold back the throbbing in my penis much longer. I grasped her jerking hips and aimed the tip of my shaft for the swollen lips of her vagina. A little pressure and I was sliding in, my tight foreskin rolling back over my glans. It was so warm, so wet, so soft and so beautiful. It was more than a year since I had had sex with a female in a grubby Parisian brothel before we had been ordered east for the invasion of Russia. Brief as it had been, it was all that I had to look back on. Now, my hard, swollen and pulsing penis was inside a woman again. I closed my eyes and grimaced in an effort so as not to come too soon and spoil Miss Spiteful’s plan.

“Do you feel Harry inside you now, Verna?” Her was soft but insistent.

Si! Si!” The Contessa breathed. “That’s how it was. Bene! Bene! So good.!”

I started to thrust gently with my hips and felt the hard shaft of the dildo through the soft wall of flesh that separated the Contessa's organs. Then Miss Spiteful withdrew gently, although she continued to stroke the Prisoner’s breasts and work on her mind.

“Verna. This is Harry inside you. He’s the one making love to you. What did you say? Was it in English?”

“Yes! Yes! Harry! Yes!” She thrust her hips back against mine and grasped me in her to pull us both together as her breathing accelerated.

I came, ejaculating a copious stream of semen deep inside in a shuddering climax. With an ear shattering scream, she also orgasmed and then, with a gentle push on the back of her head from Miss Spiteful, our lips were together and our tongues were darting in an out of each others mouths. We both had deep needs to fulfil and ground our bodies together, oblivious of the circumstances and surroundings, until, exhausted we just stood still, clinging to each other. As my penis subsided, I felt my hot sticky semen seep back out and soak her pubic hair.


To continue this story, click The Spy Who Never Was

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