Chapter One

“There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature.”

- Stephen Stills

Cindy

She was a gorgeous pale redhead in a frothy pink bra and garter set, no panties, white stockings, pink strappy high heels, globular breasts pushed together and upward to form deep cleavage. She was fastened to a large wooden X-frame, arms and legs pulled cruelly taut and far apart, her pert little naked ass criss-crossed with pink welts. She gasped into her ball gag as the whippy bamboo cane slashed across her upper thighs. Her tears were streaking her makeup, but her cock was long and rigid and pulsing, with a single glistening drop of pre-come fluid marking her frustrated passion.

The whipmistress was taking her time with the slow torture of her helpless and aroused victim, aiming each slashing blow for maximum agony. The dominatrix was a tall, statuesque brunette wearing a merrywidow and matching black heels. Her eyes were dark and piercing and there was a cruel smile playing at the corner of her lips.

A miniskirted blonde watched the games, standing ready to help her mistress should the need arise. She held a leash in her hand that was fastened to the collar of a nude older man on his hands and knees. Like Cindy, the shackled she-male being tortured, the kneeling man was erect. He wore a strange harness that imprisoned his purple and swollen shaft helplessly in a tight, constricting ring. His hips thrust forward uncontrollably, his frustrated passion unable to explode through the cruel ring.

It hadn’t taken long for Cindy to confess; in fact, she began to babble as soon as the Countess Esmeralda DaVinci, whip-wielding mistress of the household, had cornered her. “She made me—I’m sorry—I couldn’t help it—” Cindy moaned, trembling with certain foreknowledge of her fate. “Alcina forced me to crack the computer system and alter the contract you’d prepared for Archer Cordell to sign, and then she made me break through the firewall to send an electronic message to his assistant. Please…please…I couldn’t stop her…”

“I’m sure you couldn’t,” the Countess purred with an evil mocking tone. “You couldn’t stop her from fondling your cock and getting you hard, could you? You couldn’t stop her from making you spurt all your come when we’d worked so hard to bottle up your juices and improve your health. You couldn’t stop her from escaping and robbing me of my very special prize, Archer Cordell, could you?”

Cindy’s head hung low. Lizandra, the blonde factotum, a slave girl turned into a senior aide, was equally furious, because she’d been having fun tormenting Archer Cordell during his brief imprisonment at the Countess’ castle in the Italian countryside. She was thoroughly bored with torturing the man at her feet. Jordan Byrd, once her master, was now the Countess’ naked slave, and Lizandra’s toy as well—though Lizandra still enjoyed knowing Jordan would pass an entire year in his own slavery before he was allowed a single orgasm, fitting revenge for the various ways he’d used her when she was his slave.

And Lizandra was furious at being outwitted by Alcina, Archer’s slave. She had thought Alcina was as eager for revenge against her master as she had been about Jordan. When Lizandra had allowed Alcina to torme