Chapter 9
Cassandra ejaculated in gobs from her cunny. The mere sight of the mistress of pain in all her unnatural glory was too fearsome for the ordinary human to be able to experience.
And to be able to recall sanely.
The voice of Diana Cazadora was elusively tempting, soothing and threatening at the same time. And her kiss could be as deadly as the sting of the spider woman's cunt.
Cassandra had seen the juggernaut roll slowly onto the dance floor.
The male slaves, overseen with grueling whips of golden boughs and limber switches wielded by Dicksie's fairy squadron, worked miserably, all cocks rock hard in spiked rubber collars.
On the decorated float they so obediently drew was a pavilion concealing the mistress's public toilette and boudoir.
To the rear of the free-standing tent of steel-framed lizardskin-grained rubber were two oilcloth-covered forms.
Beneath the oilcloth folds was, Cassandra knew, the icon of the Cuntress and the formidable new throne of the mistress of pain.
As Zahndra withdrew her clit from Artemis's herky-jerking quim, the dark rubber curtains of the pavilion, covered with golden peacocks' eyes and silver crescent moons, parted slowly.
Diana had put aside her baleful hunting spear, her quiver filled with prick-tipped arrows, her chromium-steel bow and her heavy metal dagger.
As the curtains went up, a terrifying shriek of female horror went up, as the naked nymphets Pandora, Iphigenia, Opis and Callisto crowded about their mistress, clips tinkling from nubile clits and nips.
Attempting they were to shield her from the eyes of the profane.
And to shield her worshippers from the punishment they must receive for having seen the mistress in the flesh.
But Diana stood above them, absolutely, maddeningly naked in her bath.
Her body was white as alabaster, her hair raven black and swinging in oiled tendrils like a bed of snakes. Her nipples were ruby fruit red, pointed as darts and hard as cherrystones.
From her emerald-green eyes blazed a fire dangerous to all within her glance.
Those like Cassandra, who had dared to perceive the throbbing maroon cunt folds and raging clitoris breaking through the wettened nest of pubic spikes, had to come or die trying.
Swine women rolled in the muck with the men who would have bought them to feed their hunger.
Torrents of jism flew through the air, into waiting yips.
Spattering onto harnessed tits. Creaming into thick animal pelts.
Rubber steamed and shriveling with heaps of molten lady-juice was redolent with the burn of body heat and junglerut.
"Our prim Abbess," the revealed Diana continued, "has turned to Bawdress-we can all see she's a bit preggie, can't we?"
There was a rumble in the crowd.
Dandy Voivode and Ms. Peabody made eye contact with Cassandra across the room. Not yet was the detective's message.
"Are we to believe that our Bawdress's condition is the result of immaculate contraception?" Diana said as the nude, clipped nymphets spilled vessels of milky mixtures of jism and cuntjuice over her head and shoulders.
"No!" came the response in unison.
The body of the Minotaur strode from the crowd and stood before the naked mistress.
"It is clearly a result of ejaculate conception," the Minotaur said, indicating his own thundering bullwhip of an organ.
"Don't bullshit me," Diana sneered. "You never fucked a woman in your life."
Antoine whipped off his bull's head helmet in a jabbering rage.
He ripped off his armored leather cod and smiled like a black panther. Antoine then unfurled his purplish prickstaff nearly to his knees.
"You're hung like a bull," Diana scoffed, "but until you've fucked the mistress of pain, you've never fucked at all."
Diana Cazadora's smile was a menacing wreath of cruelty as it played about her lolling tongue. The incessant metallic glow from her green eyes pierced through the web of oiled black tresses that crawled in serpentine tendrils over her ivory shoulders to her brilliantly nippled titflesh.
She saw the looks of putrid fear on the faces of those who had profaned her.
Those who now knew that humiliation, degradation and abysmal pain would be their punishment.
Diana saw also the stony grimaces of those who had yet to penetrate her domain. They would soon know that the indomitable savagery of their mistress's snapping quim was no legendary tale.
It was the key to their existence.
The bristling snakepit that would succor their hunger. By feeding ravenously upon them.
She gazed diffidently at the leatherclad man's purple-black prick pullulating with jungle jism. Smirked at his tremendous flowering of balls.
Sweat ran cold as she spoke, and cunt juices stopped dead in their cracks. Semen hardened in dicks heavy with churning blood.
"The men have proved that they cannot even pretend to master the empire of pain, of panic-of pandemonium. Therefore the mistress will resume her rightful place."
Her hips twitched like the rump of a leashed bitch in rut.
"The animals die with fear in their eyes," she said with flared nostrils. "Let's see how keen you all are to meet my machines."
The nymphets jumped from the pavilion and surrounded at pricklength the Minotaur king. Dicksie led his fairy commandos through the crowd, selecting those uninitiated ones.
They would be anointed into the mysteries of pain.
Antoine felt his thick bullish neck grow stiff with heat. The blood ravaged through his arteries and veins and he thought his neck was like an erect cock.
The singing in his head made it feel swollen like a frothing dickhead.
He felt his eartips burn and grow red. His hair relaxed in a flush of terror and sprung up again like a forest of antlers.
His whole body was one large cock.
And the nymphets were jacking it down. Shellacking it with the mixture of sperm and quimoil used for their mistress's bath.
"While our bull stud here awaits his next great heroic task," Diana said, stepping from her bath, "we will witness the fate of one whose designs on this occasion have gone a bit awry."
Zahndra Jergens took hold of the trembling Artemis Schwartz by the metal lariat still noosed about her neck.
Diana snapped her head back, throwing her oily mane about her shoulders as she strutted.
As if by magic, a crescent-shaped aluminum alloy trough slipped out like a tongue from the front of the mistress's float.
A meathook dangled down from the metal frame of the rubber pavilion.
Cassandra caught sight of Francis and Alistair, romping in the mud with a set of swine women. Their cocks were out and in.
It seemed they were quite willing to allow the sacrifice of their would-be candidate for the personification of pain and pleasure.
But not even those two cunning blackguards would remain immune to the wrath of the cruel white goddess of pain.
Cassandra saw the movement around their pen, as Thelemites loyal to their mistress took their places in ones and twos.
Zahndra lashed the welt-emblazoned right arm of the fallen Bawdress to her right ankle with the metal gaucho lariat.
She snipped off another length with gigantic wirecutters and bound Artemis's left arm pretzeled in back of her, the wrist cuffed to the thickness of Artemis's right thigh.
Artemis's mouth hung slack in resignation as Zahndra pressed the bindings of her left ankle onto the meathook. At Diana's command, the hook was lifted slightly.
The partly shaven cunt of the sportswear designer split open, the grimy cunt folds dropping like wattles between her splayed legs.
Her pregnant belly depended from her midsection, shaking with the burning tits as the mistress of pain manipulated the gears.
Zahndra next closed a leg iron about the Bawdress's right ankle.
From this swung a spiked globe on the end of a link of chain, the type of device medieval knights referred to as the morningstar.
Diana cackled aloud, her icing of come crackling as her lithe musculature bent and worked the pulleys and ratchets.
Again and again the Bawdress yelped in pain as the morningstar dashed its razor-sharp spikes into her sputtering quim.
"I deny it!" Artemis howled.
The morningstar hefted into her pelvis, streaking her snatch with red.
Like a shark biting with his teeth, dear, showing them pearly white, Zahndra pulled out a jacknife she had kept out of sight.
She stroked it down the arms and legs of the gagging Bawdress.
Zahndra wiped the blade after each shallow gash in the woman's flesh. So that there was never, never a trace of red.
On the blade.
Scarlet billows graced the whorish hide of the woman whose cunt juices flowed in gummy bilges between her legs.
Zahndra drew a sketch of the Bawdress's screaming visage upon her belly.
Diana stood urinating from the lip of the pavilion stage, hitting Artemis's gaping maw with twinkling gilt trickles.
She sneered as her once-trusted minion groveled, the morningstar ripping into her cunt.
The one who had thought herself fit to replace her mistress was now singing in the rain of her fragrant piss.