Flight of the Crow Page 8

  Fenix easily slipped into the role of dominatrix. Punishing this gorgeous man would be very arousing. When Begnoche was slow in removing his clothing, Fenix laid the paddle on the spanking bench and grabbed a longer riding whip off the wall. She flicked Begnoche’s leg with the tip. “You anger me with your slowness.”

  His blue eyes grew wide and he tore off his remaining clothes to stand quivering with anticipation in front of her. His cock was already standing at attention. She flicked it with the tip of the whip. “I did not give you permission to show your excitement.”

  He bowed his golden head. “I am sorry, Mistress, but your form is so beautiful and your assistant so exciting.” “That is no excuse. Grégoire, assist Pierre onto the stool.”

  Grégoire took Begnoche’s arm and urged him to squat on the stool while Fenix, still slapping her thigh with the crop, walked around him. She knew the scratchy hair of the stool was disturbing him by the way he squirmed and could not sit still. He kept opening and closing his thighs, hiding his erection from her sight. She stood in front of him and pushed his legs open. His thick cock sprang into view. “Since this,” she slapped his cock with the tip of the whip, “will not go away, we will make sure it does not spew too soon. Cock ring, Grégoire.”

  Her assistant selected a carved ivory ring from the shelf. Fenix took it and slid it onto Begnoche’s stiff organ. She rammed it to the base where it would prevent his erection from flagging and keep Monsieur Begnoche from erupting prematurely. The handsome Minister of Foreign Affairs moaned.

  “Climb onto the bench,” she ordered.

  Begnoche rose from the stool, his perfect buttocks reddened and stippled from the rough hair of the stool. He crawled onto the spanking bench, grabbed the handholds and presented her with his red ass. She stroked it, ran her hands between his legs, cupped his balls and squeezed the base of his cock. “You have been a very bad boy,” she said as she selected the number-two paddle and slapped her hand several times. She saw Begnochet tighten his ass cheeks as he anticipated his spanking.

  “Grégoire, bring me the steam dildo.”

  Begnochet gasped and looked over his shoulder. She whacked his ass hard. “Do not look at me. You are mine and I will punish you as I please.”

  The rubber tip of the brass dildo was already covered with special lubricating oils. When Fenix flipped the black switch on the base of the machine, it vibrated and emitted a low chugging noise. The device had two handles at its base. Fenix grasped them and moved close to Begnochet who was whimpering with fear and anticipation.

  “Open his buttocks,” she ordered Grégoire.

  Grégoire moved close to Begnochet and pulled the man’s shaking ass cheeks apart. A pink, round puckered anus popped into view. It quivered as Fenix inserted the tip of the dildo. Her heart raced with excitement and she felt the need to squeeze her thighs together as she pushed the vibrating fake cock into Begnochet’s ass. She held both handles and pushed it all the way in. Her breathing was erratic and her nostrils distended. She yearned to squeeze her sex but refrained as she told Grégoire to take the machine from her.

  Her assistant’s eyes were wide as he grabbed both handles. Fenix patted him on the shoulder and swung the paddle. Begnochet’s cries were loud as she administered ten hard slaps, stopping then to grab her victim’s cock. It was purple, the veins standing out on its distended length. Her client was extremely aroused. She smiled and administered ten more smacks. Begnochet’s ass was bright red and welted when she laid the paddle down, walked around the bench, lifted Begnochet’s head by his golden hair and stared into his tear-filled blue eyes. “Would you like permission to come, Minister?”

  He nodded vigorously.

  “Would you like to touch Grégoire?”

  He nodded again and moaned. Her assistant moved to stand in front of Begnochet. “Put your cock in his mouth,” she ordered Grégoire. When Begnochet reached for it, she slapped his hand and shoved the dildo, which was still thumping away, in further. Her subject gasped and obediently opened his mouth for Grégoire’s raging erection while Fenix reached between Begnochet’s legs and removed the cock ring.

  She slipped the thumping brass dildo out of Begnochet’s ass and had the satisfaction of watching his cock spew semen across the bench and his shaking thighs. When he tried to stop sucking Grégoire’s cock, she slapped him with the whip. “Finish your job, slave.”

  She turned away then and climbed the circular stairs to the bedroom above. She lay on the bed and listened to the two men until she was sure they were done, then she went back down. Begnochet was dressing and her assistant was once again wrapped in his black cloak.

  Begnochet bowed to her. “Thank you for a truly memorable experience.” He rubbed his buttocks. “One I shall remember all week.”

  She said nothing, just stood with her arms crossed over her chest. When Begnochet had gone taking Grégoire with him, Fenix busied herself cleaning the room and the steam dildo. She’d just placed it back on the shelf when scratching on the door announced another client. This one was a tall woman, heavily veiled and opulently gowned in green velvet covered with black lace. She was accompanied by a wide-eyed Nina. The girl’s clipped nipples were now bright red. “This is Madam Montplasier. She wishes to be punished.”

  Fenix tore off the woman’s veil and saw she was radiantly beautiful, maybe forty, with black hair and milky white skin. “She is no longer Madam Montplasier. She will now be my slave. Did you hear that, slave?”

  The woman nodded, her green eyes wide with anticipation tinged with fear. A small smile hovered on her cupid’s-bow mouth as she gazed at Fenix’s loveliness.

  Fenix frowned. “Nina, remove the slave’s clothing.”

  Nina’s mouth opened but she said nothing, just set to work undressing the buxom woman. When Madam Montplasier was completely naked she stood trembling in front of Fenix with her hand over her mound. The smile was gone. Fenix grabbed the hand Montplasier had over her sex and flung it away. “Do not attempt to cover yourself, slave. You are here to pleasure me.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Madam Montplasier said in a small voice.

  Fenix walked around her slave, ran a possessive hand across her ample buttocks and returned to stand in front of her. She lifted and weighed each large breast, pinched both nipples until they were an inch long and stiff and then grabbed Madam Montplasier’s sex and squeezed. “On your knees,” she snapped.

  Madam Montplasier dropped to her knees immediately. Fenix lifted her diaphanous gown and stepped close to Madam Montplasier. “Use only your tongue to pleasure me.”

  The humble slave inserted her tongue into Fenix’s swollen sex and licked. She nuzzled the lips open searching for the clitoris, found it and suckled. Fenix moaned. The arousal she’d experienced punishing the Minister of Foreign Affairs had her ready for Madam Montplasier’s attentions. She spread her legs and lifted her hips to aid the slave in her ministrations. She saw Nina’s wide-eyed stare and invited her close. “Come kiss me, Nina.”

  The young woman eagerly fell into a one-armed embrace. They kissed, Fenix reveling in the feel of Nina’s tongue in her mouth and Madam Montplasier’s mouth sucking her sex. Nina stroked her breasts and moaned into Fenix’s mouth as Fenix thrust herself hard against Madam Montplasier’s face and erupted in a glorious orgasm.

  She pushed the slave away and dropped her gown. Nina remained against her and Fenix smiled into her face. “Remove the clips from your nipples and place them on the slave.”

  She grabbed Madam Montplasier’s hair and pulled her to her feet. Nina placed each brass clip on one of Madam Montplasier’s long nipples. The slave cried out with pain but her eyes said she loved it. “Nina, collar the slave.”

  Nina pulled a studded collar off the shelf of implements and fastened it around Madam Montplasier’s throat.

  “Leash,” Fenix ordered. When a leash was attached to the collar, Fenix took it and led Madam Montplasier around the room on her hands and knees. “Hold this,” she said and hand
ed Nina the leash. She walked around the slave, squeezed the woman’s buttocks hard, opened the fleshy cheeks and felt her dripping sex. “The slave is aroused,” Fenix said to Nina. “Her cunny is wet and swollen. We will punish it.”

  She led Madam Montplasier to the fainting couch and told her to get on it. When Madam Montplasier was on the couch on her back, Fenix told her to open her legs as wide as they would go. When she was grossly displayed, she plucked a short crop with a large leather flap at the end off the wall and slapped her thigh with it. “This will do nicely.

  Madam Montplasier’s eyes widened and she tried to close her legs. “Nina, hold the slave’s legs wide.”

  Madam Montplasier moaned and cried out. “Ball gag,” Fenix said to Nina. “And a blindfold.”

  When Madam Montplasier lay helpless, gagged and her eyes covered with a satin blindfold, Fenix began her punishment. She slapped Madam Montplasier’s open and swollen sex with the crop while Nina held her legs wide. When Madam Montplasier was sobbing around the gag and her sex bright red, Fenix stopped spanking it. “Remove the gag and the blindfold,” she ordered Nina whose eyes were round and her breathing erratic.

  “Kiss her,” she ordered.

  Nina kissed Madam Montplasier until they were both breathless. “Now give her release.”

  Nina eagerly fell between Madam Montplasier’s legs. The sounds of sucking and moaning reached Fenix’s ears as she once again mounted the stairs to the bedroom. When the sounds stopped, she went back down and watched while Nina helped Madam Montplasier dress.

  When Madam Montplasier saw Fenix, a delightful blush rose into her creamy cheeks and across her chest. She took a deep breath. “Thank you for the most wonderful pleasure of my life,” she gushed. “You are truly a great mistress. May I hug you?”

  Fenix drew herself erect, shoulders back, haughty expression on her perfect features. “No you may not, slave. Be gone.”

  Madam Montplasier sighed and smiled. “A great mistress.”

  Chapter 12

  Bryn walked down the stone steps into the basement of le Rouge followed by her choice of successors, Mistress Vickie, and behind Vickie, Henri followed. A stone corridor led to a room locked with an ancient barred door. She took a key from a large ring hooked to her belt and opened the lock. Inside the dungeon, one candle burned low on a rough wooden table. Two very special clients were here. They’d been here for two days suffering terribly because they wished it.

  The first was a member of a very old French aristocrat family. He was strapped to a table in a leather and rubber garment especially designed for him by him. The only part of him not covered was his cock which was trapped in a seven-ringed device. Bryn glanced at it and saw his organ was swollen and erect. Time to remove the Compte from his restraints. “Henri, you handle le Compte, Vickie and I will rouse the Duke.”

  The second member entombed in this chamber of horrors was an English Duke who traveled to Paris frequently to enjoy the perversions he required. Bryn opened an enormous locked trunk with another key from her belt and pointed. “Pull the Duke out. I believe he’s ready to be taken to room three.”

  Room three possessed a bath and a hose that sprayed water from a steam-powered pump. The Duke would be very dirty having been in the trunk enjoying his suffering for a day and a half. It never failed to amaze Bryn at the dark secrets and places in the hearts and minds of humans.

  Vicky aided the Duke to stand. He was naked save for a large diaper and a blindfold. Bryn stepped back to allow Vickie to remove his blindfold, collar him, and lead him on shaking legs out the door and down the stone corridor. Meanwhile, Henri had released le Compte. The French aristocrat was moaning but not with pain. His long incarceration had him so aroused, his need for release was great. Bryn shook her head. “Take him to the large bathroom, clean him, flog him and he will spew without any other help.”

  Henri nodded, his face stoic. He did not betray a single scrap of emotion and Bryn noted this. Henri had for the moment jumped into the lead as her choice for Chat’s successor. He seemed unmoved by the disgusting smells or the pitiful condition of these two very special clients. Their fees alone could keep the club running for a month.

  With these two clients out of the dungeon, a not very well-known feature of le Rouge, Bryn went back to her office. Her work was finished here for the night. She now needed to visit an old friend, a witch who had lived in Paris for centuries and might be able to tell her where Priest had taken refuge. Now that his hiding place had been discovered, he would have to find a new hole to crawl into.

  It was after midnight, much closer to dawn, when she left the club. The witch lived on the edge of the city. Her name was Katherine. There were rumors circulating among the witches of Paris saying Katherine had been mistress to Charlemagne. She lived on the east side of the city right outside the Porte de Vincennes. Bryn hailed a hack waiting outside her club for the clients they knew would soon be leaving and gave him the address.

  The ride through the dark city took twenty minutes. When the hack pulled up outside an old cottage nestled between a meat market and a bakery, the entire cottage wavered before her eyes. Katherine had placed guards on it to deceive anyone who couldn’t see through them.

  “Wait for me,” she told the jarvey. She handed him a gold coin and he nodded. She slipped across the noisome street and scratched at the ancient wooden door. For a moment, the door disappeared and she saw only a farm gate and a pig sty, then it solidified and was abruptly thrown open.

  “You!” Katherine snarled.

  “Yes, it is I, my friend. Let me inside.”

  Katherine was very old. Her life had been extended by her magic, but she was not an immortal. Her back was hunched, her thin gray hair pulled into a knot at her scrawny neck. Her hooked nose and pointed chin made her look exactly like the witch she was.

  “Come in then. You were ever a pushy little bitch.”

  Bryn laughed. “It’s good to see you as well.”

  She entered the mud and wattle cottage and was taken back four hundred years in a moment. Nothing had changed. The cottage was fragrant with herbs and a huge cauldron bubbled and boiled on the hob. A fresh layer of straw was spread over the floor, a rough-wood table sat against the back wall and looked out over a garden bursting with herbs, rare and strange plants, some very poisonous. It was too dark to see the garden, but Bryn knew it was still there. A curtained doorway led to the cottage’s other room.

  When Bryn was inside and the door closed behind her, Katherine gave her a warm hug. “You never come down here to see me unless you want something,” she moaned. “What have you been doing?”

  Bryn returned the hug and walked across the straw to take a seat at the table. “I am so tired, old mother. I still chase a cure for my curse and Draak Priest still haunts my path.”

  Katherine snorted. “Him! A pimple on the ass of a horse. He should catch fire and burn for all eternity.”

  “That would be lovely, but he seems to be able to avoid all my attempts to make it happen.”

  Katherine knelt close to the open fireplace and stirred the contents of the kettle. “He is an evil man and will find his destiny soon enough.”

  Bryn sighed. “How I wish he would find it now. Have you run into Lazarus, old mother?”

  Katherine stood up, crossed herself and kissed a small cloth bag hanging around her scrawny neck. “Do not speak his name.”

  “I see you know him.”

  Katherine glanced nervously at the door. “I know of him. He rules the vampires of this city and the world. What business do you have with him?”

  “I must find Priest and steal Lazarus’s dagger from him. Or, if I’m very lucky, kill the bastard and take the dagger off his dead body.”

  The old witch cackled. “I was hoping you just wanted a love potion.”

  “Do you have anything that will help me to make love to a man and not kill him?” Katherine was very familiar with Bryn’s curse. In the past, she’d helped Bryn circumvent certa
in aspects of it.

  “One time only,” Katherine said. “I can release you from that part of the curse, for just one time.”

  “What will it cost me?”

  “I would have a lock of Fenix’s hair and a vial of her tears.”

  “For that price, you should tell me where the lair of Lazarus is and also where Priest could hide until the full moon.”

  Katherine cackled again. “Lazarus is easy. He sleeps under Notre Dame in the tomb of Cardinal Dubois, when he sleeps. I have heard he no longer needs such a thing as rest. Priest, hmmm, he could be anywhere.”

  “Think, Katherine, I must get that dagger. And killing him would make my life so much easier.”

  The old lady took a bowl and filled it with the fragrant liquid boiling in the pot. She placed the bowl on the table, stood over it, chanted and held her hands in the steam rising from the bowl. She moved her clawed fingers in circles and the steam took on the face of Draak Priest. Bryn gasped and almost fell out of her chair.

  “Shhh!” Katherine hissed.

  The face of Priest morphed into a dragon and took flight into the air above the table. Katherine breathed into the steam and the swirling mass became a picture of the city. The picture faded and changed until it suddenly cleared, giving Bryn a precise location. The dragon swooped past the Eiffel Tower and into the Exposition where he landed on the roof of a huge building, the Galerie des Machines. “He’s hiding at the Exposition,” Bryn snarled. “Sam and Tomlinson have been going there every day.”

  Katherine sat down in the empty chair. “So, now you know where he is. I would have my fee.”

  “The charm?”

  Katherine grumbled, pulled her ancient body erect and limped through the curtain into the other room. She came back with a small velvet bag. “You will pay me?”

  “Of course. I’ll send Fenix herself with the payment if you wish it.”

  Katherine cackled. “I would like to see the chit again. How old is she today?”