"It was during the 18th century that a new form of British male began to populate high society. The 'Rake' was the term used to describe the usually aristocratic type of gentlemen who were in lustful pursuit of a harder sort of pleasure to be gained at the expense of the gentler sex. These 'creatures' who were normally peers of the realm, noblemen, and other gentrified lords, had little respect for the law or traditional morality."
The mousey-looking woman paused her monologue to clean her spectacles with a soft cloth before continuing.
"Clubs were founded; can you believe it? Actual clubs catered to these debauched members so that they could indulge their corrupt and depraved tastes. And none of these clubs was more notorious than the malevolent Hellfire Club. Such acts of blasphemy and sexual deviancy you could not imagine. The first was founded by the Duke of Wharton in 1720. An influential member of the Jacobite movement, this pervert enjoyed drinking, gambling, and sodomy. He would have his members dress as monks, would you believe, and imbibe in Hellfire Punch until they were so drunk they engaged in wild orgies with immoral females of the day."
Lady Petunia de Havilland, or rather plain old Deidre Birchwood, paused to take a swig of champagne. Lady Penelope Ward-Williamson sat back in her velvet armchair and reflected on what her friend was saying.
Her companion for the evening looked like the sixty-something she was. Her pale face was hidden for the most part by a pair of bookworm prescription glasses, and her admittedly tall five-eleven figure was shrouded in a durable long wool skirt, paired with a cotton blouse and woollen jacket. Her highlighted hair was cut short in a pixie bob with an exaggerated side parting.
Penny had seen the renowned party hostess and experienced Dominatrix in a completely different light when she had dressed in her fetish gear and strutted around on six-inch skyscraper heels with a whip in her hand.
"Do go on. I find this all very fascinating."
London today is blessed with many fine hotels and restaurants. Nominating the best of the lot, Penelope always came back to The Stage at the Londoner Hotel in Leicester Square. The Champagne Bar has all the nuances of a Parisian café; the bar itself is decorated as it is by tan leather stools, and the intimate tables are set with gold-trimmed flutes and crystal glasses. Besides the bubbly, Her Ladyship had ordered the wonderful chicken with truffle mayonnaise and basil-infused bread.
"Is there perhaps a female type? a Rakehell! A She Rake? A harlot? With sexual excess across the board these days, the question must be asked. Female Rake: yes or no? I say, YES!"
Penny leaned forward in her chair, all ears and wide eyes.
"It's been an established fact that women are less likely to espouse rakishness as part of a broader public life. The closest we seem to get to an actual love 'em and leave 'em Rake is an upper-class lesbian. Which is why I am investing in a new venture. London's very own All Ladies Hellfire Club."
Lady Petunia spread her hands and smiled smugly. In recent years, she has styled herself after Madam Cyn, who had a likeminded attitude toward the same salacious interests back in the eighties. They both specialized in spanking, other forms of bondage, and BDSM. Offering their services to all who paid the right price. Under the sombre attire, she had an enhanced 34-inch bust, a small waist, and legs that came up to her neck. She had started modelling with camera clubs back in the early 80s and quickly moved on to professional modelling for magazines. Being quite an exhibitionist, she branched out into showing herself off in just about all of the fetish and S&M magazines of the time, as well as several of the 'top shelf' mainstream adult magazines.
"Ladies only?"
The ravishing blonde gentlewoman was not normally attracted solely to the fairer sex, being, for the most part, a straight-up heterosexual. But she had to admit that even she could be turned on by she-devils dressed in black leather in thigh-high boots. And Petunia certainly had the figure for it, being a lean woman with big tits all mounted on a near-six-foot frame. Penny herself was a tall, leggy blonde with a rack of large breasts and toned limbs.
"With the promise of a few well-hung blokes in tow who will do exactly what they are told, there to please and comply. So, you'll come to the opening night?"
Penny smiled as she felt her entire body tingle with anticipation.
"Just try and stop me!"
That night, as Lady Penelope slept in her Regency four-poster bed, she had lurid dreams of 18th-century monks dressed in figure-hiding brown habits, chanting and marching through dilapidated corridors to a cold and dimly lit chamber where, once upon a time, pagan rituals were carried out. As Penny writhed in bed, she envisioned erotic and sacrilegious artwork on the stone walls and a ceiling painted with a pornographic fresco. Penny was there. Naked and led by a chain around her elegant neck by a nun all in black, the terrified blonde beauty was brought before a man seated on a throne and dressed in a scarlet robe and sporting horns. The nun threw Penny onto her hands and knees, and the dust filled her nostrils. Her head was roughly yanked up as the nun pointed a gnarly finger at the one on the throne.
"Behold! The Devil himself!"
Her Ladyship awoke with a start and a perspiring body.
"My goodness! That was different!"
x
A month later, Lady Penelope was seated in the back of her Rolls Royce car as it slid to a stop at the curb. It was a moonless night, but the streets of Spitalfields in East London were bathed in the bright glare of the streetlights. Her chauffeur got out of the driver's side and opened the back door. It was just about midnight when Penny stepped onto the pavement and looked around at the site of the brand-new Hellfire Club. The area, once synonymous with the now relocated fruit and vegetable market, not to mention the locality of Jack the Ripper's infamous murders, was now one of the trendy shops and gourmet restaurants.
Even though it was late, people were still out in abundance, making their way back home after their parties, visits to bars and nightclubs, or seeking more fun. Penny instructed Perkins to remain parked close by as she made her way to the entrance to the club. Two olden-type fire torches licked real flames above the sign over the open door, and the immediate way in was roped off.
"My dear Penelope, So good of you to come."
She was greeted at the door by Lady Petunia, who was flanked by two other females, smaller in stature but nonetheless dressed for the occasion. Their long, dark hair fell straight over their slender shoulders, and their faces were heavily made up. Both wore full-length leather dresses with skyscraper heels. Penny thought they were gorgeous, sexy, and most certainly ready for action.
Curiously, Petunia wore a nun's habit, which effectively hid her chosen fetish gear for the night. In contrast, Penny looked her usual elegant self in a fetching, off-the-shoulder navy blue maxi gown in satin with lots of sequins. The racy, low-cut front displayed her deep cleavage marvelously.
"Tonight is just a private party with a select number of personal guests. Just to get the ball rolling, so to speak. Let's go inside. By the way, this is Mindy and Sindy."
As they entered the club, Penny was immediately taken by how dimly lit the place was. There appeared to be one large open area, subdivided by black walls and more torches. There were six closed doors, three on each side of the main room. The surprisingly high ceiling gave the impression of a vaster open space than there actually was.
"In here."
Mindy opened one of the doors, and they all stepped into a bathroom facility.
"I want you to strip off and have a shower, my dear. I want you squeaky clean before the fun begins."
Without questioning the woman, Penny took off her evening coat and hung it on the convenient clothes rack.
In her state of undress, the voluptuous MILF projected an aura of sexuality that always made every man and most women drool within minutes. How many middle-aged women could boast of such a curvaceous and sensual figure as she? Nature had bestowed upon Her Ladyship a narrow waist, mature flaring hips, and a rounded bottom. Her large and surging breasts sat on her chest like two ripe melons, and her long strawberry-blonde hair and blue-grey eyes complimented her pale complexion. With her grace came the temperament of a tigress, and in usual circumstances, she made others do her bidding. On this night, however, the shoe was on the other foot. Despite her breeding, Lady Penelope could not help but feel a sense of unease mixed with the unknown.
"Too late for second thoughts."
After a quick shower, Penny emerged completely naked, except for a towel wrapped around her head. Feeling decidedly horny, she stroked her newly trimmed pussycat and awaited her fate. Petunia returned, and Penny's face was a picture as she took in the costume the Dominatrix had decided on wearing.
"How do I look?"
In place of her habit, the short-haired female now showed a striking and startling change. Her already trim waist was tightly cinched by a broad black leather belt from just under her bosom to her navel. An additional leather strap from there was buckled right up between her legs. Not only that, but right between her puffy labia, which embraced the thin strap and parted as a result. Penny could only envy the sublime friction against her clitoris that the leather must surely make as she walked about.
Speaking of walking, Petunia had an outrageous pair of shiny thigh-high black boots that were laced tightly up the front so that they molded to her shapely calves and thighs. Heels? No, these had spikes. Tapering six-inch stilettos that would take an eye out with little effort. Her enhanced, thumping great tits were unfettered and resembled a pair of footballs that sported bullet-sized, erect nipples. Opera-style black kidskin gloves sheathed her arms up to the elbows. Already tall and slender, her outfit gave the older woman a commanding and authoritarian height.
"Put these on."
Mindy handed Lady Penelope a pair of white kid boots with five-inch heels, which she tugged onto her slender pins. A zipper ran down the whole length of the inside, and when she eased her feet in, they fitted perfectly. The boots were tight-fitting and hugged her shapely legs to perfection, leaving a scant strip of thigh flesh just up to her snatch.
"Are you ready for this?" she asked as she fiddled with a pair of padded handcuffs.
"I think so," Penny said softly.
"Turn around and put one hand over the other."
The blonde did so and crossed her hands behind her back, just above her meaty backside. The Dominatrix slipped one cuff over her left wrist and closed it with a loud click. Petunia took her other hand and fastened the other cuff around her right wrist. Sindy passed her a black neck choker with a length of gold chain fastened to it. Penny lifted her chin, and Petunia locked the choker around her pale throat. She tugged on the chain, which resulted in the naked blonde stumbling with it.
"Good. Now you are all mine."
They came face-to-face as Her Ladyship was pulled forward sharply by the gold chain. Lady Petunia began to totter in a slow circle around Penelope, as if sizing her up for a new dress. The Domme finally came to a halt in front of the vulnerable MILF.
"Step through."
Penny observed a heavy-looking door that was opened by Mindy. Petunia dragged the naked noblewoman forward with a tug on the chain. The short-haired vixen did not walk; she strode, hips forward, with inner thighs caressing each other. And her monumental boobs bounced as she pranced. Penny herself was acutely aware of that glorious place of hers, where her thighs transformed into her tingling sex and the spheres of her buttocks.
It was very dark inside. Several dim lamps adorned the red walls and reflected off the concrete floor. Presumably a durable, low-maintenance choice. Their staccato footfalls echoed in their ears as they took in the remarkable interior. It was really a full-blown sex dungeon, complete with a stretching table, sex swings, spanking benches, and a rotating 'Fetters Wheel' that looked more like a medieval torture tool than a piece of kit for fetish groups to use. It was obvious Petunia took immense pride in the facilities and the adults-only pleasure palace, given the grin on her face.
"Stop."
Her Ladyship paused as the leather-clad woman drew in close until their voluptuous bodies were mere inches apart. Warm breath caressed Penny's cheek, and her inner thighs became moist and heated. She stiffened involuntarily when Petunia's glove rested on her warm belly. As the older female moved her hand up, Penny felt her heart leap in her chest as her left breast was pawed. Kid leather pressed into the soft mass of her boob, and the willing blonde bit her lip as her erect nipple was pinched firmly. Lady Penelope gasped as two gloved hands seized her buttocks, and her plump cheeks were kneaded and squeezed.
"Let's get you warmed up."
Petunia shoved a glove between her upper thighs and grabbed her pussy mound. Penny groaned, and her breath came in quick jerks as a leather-sheathed finger slid between her pussy lips and began to flick back and forth deep inside her. Her juices seeped out as she frigged faster and faster. The Domme jammed her digit deep inside Penny's sopping pussy and used her thumb to press down hard on the blonde's clitoral area. The wealthy socialite let out a drawn-out moan, and her voluptuous body shuddered from the exquisite foreplay. She tugged at the cuffs holding her wrists together behind her back, but neither gave in the slightest.
"Mindy. Sindy."
Without a word, the two dutiful females took her ladyship by the elbows and stood her before the unusual-looking wheel. Penny sized it up. With twelve padded straps dangling from various points, the leather-covered, two-meter-diameter wheel was mounted on a powder-coated steel box section A-frame. That is bolted to a steel baseplate 150cm long by 30cm wide. The wheel itself was made in two sections, as in the A-frame and baseplate. It was completed with satin chrome handgrips, height-adjustable footplates with padded leather ankle straps, three-arm straps, three-leg straps, and a padded leather chest harness. Once securely strapped in position, the victim could be rotated through 360 degrees and locked in any one of eight positions within the cycle using a spring-loaded foot-operated brake.
"It's like nothing I've ever seen," said an amazed Penelope as her cuffs were removed.
The two aides guided her to the wheel and turned her back to it. They helped her step onto the footrests, and she felt the waist belt being secured around her midriff. Two bands midway on the wheel were clasped about her upper arms, and a similar set was midway between her elbows and her wrists. Two sets of straps were pulled tightly around her thighs and calves, immobilizing her legs. One by one, the other straps tightened over her body until she was secure against the wheel.
"Wonderful, isn't it? Cost me nigh on five thousand quid. You'll be pleased to know that you're to be the first one to test it."
Now, her wrists and ankles were all leather-cuffed and attached to the wheel. Her collar still encircled her throat, and this was attached to the top by a short chain. She realized that no amount of struggling was going to free her. As she watched, Petunia herself threaded two diagonal groin straps through her parted legs and buckled them on the outside. Her exposed lips were noticeably plump and moist between her upper thighs.
"Let me test this."
The stacked Dominatrix rotated the wheel by hand through one turn to make sure it was free.
"Yes!"
Penny yelled as she was turned through one revolution of the wheel. Despite her macabre position, she quivered with excitement. Her naked body jiggled and trembled as much as her many restraining straps allowed. She was again spun in the wheel so that her head rested in a three-o'clock position, meaning she was on her left side.
"Ever seen one of these before, my dear?"
The dizzy aristocrat looked at a stainless steel object in Petunia's gloved hand. 15cm in length, the tool looked nearly lethal with a thin hand grip that housed a pinwheel with an untold number of sharp needle points.
"It's a Wartenberg pinwheel and can offer pleasurable pain through the central nervous system. It's a staple in any medical bag but may be used in fetish love games. Look."
Petunia applied the pinwheel to her heaving breasts and began to move the needles around her generous globes. Moving clockwise on her right breast and anti-clockwise on her left made Penny gasp at the odd sensation of a minute scratching on her exposed flesh. Her nipples stood out like two bullets as her tormentor played with her flesh. Her eyes followed the thing as it made a beeline down towards her loins. She began to quiver and pulse as the evenly spaced spikes gingerly scraped along her thighs, just where her boots ended and her skin began.
"UH!"
Penny gave a high-pitched shriek as the wheel turned on its axis and was slowly traced along her inner thighs.
"Oh my goodness!"
Her pussycat leaked profusely as she was aroused. Petunia lightly touched her muff and drew a circle around the puffy and engorged labia.
"Fuck!"
The pinwheel ran up and down her ass, cracking to the top of her pussycat with little pricks in the wake. Petunia was careful not to apply too much pressure; those spikes could draw blood. The sound of the metal wheel turning with minute clicks made Penny hiss and buck while moaning softly. None of her pale skin...
