Climbing The Corporate Ladder Ch. 04

Beth was becoming more and more frustrated by the week. Wednesdays had become the weekday for her to partake in sadistic Grace's beating program. At six o'clock each Wednesday evening she would report to Grace's apartment for her beating. The only saving grace of Grace's was that she would be treated to a diner in a café or restaurant afterwards. But even that was diminished by her having to watch Grace as she snickered and smiled at seeing her squirm from her sitting there in public with her ass or now even her back burning.

Much longer before that promised G-4 position in the company would open for her?

Hard to tell. But it shouldn't be too much longer now.

Could things get worse?

Yes.

This Wednesday evening when she arrived at the apartment she was startled to find Fu Fong answer the door. Fong was the one into bondage who she had given into one evening. He had called her several times for another date but she had always found an excuse. So tonight he had made arrangements with Grace to take part in her evening beating without Beth's knowing.

"Mister Fong. How . . . how nice . . . nice to see you again."

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine, Miss Atkins. Or soon shall be. Grace and I do make a rather nice team on occasion."

"Grace, I don't know about this. I never agreed to it."

"Beth, Mister Fong has informed me that he expects to put in a requisition for a G-4 position next month. Isn't that great!"

"It comes with a window office, Miss Atkins. And a shared secretary."

"I see. Well since I'm already here I suppose . . ."

"Wonderful."

Beth wondered what beating instrument Grace would use this evening in conjunction with the bondage restraints that Fu Fong was sure to employ. Would it be the rattan cane or perhaps the Scottish tawse? Perhaps it might be the wooden paddle or the whip which she truly detested.

"You know that I've yet to see your body, Miss Atkins. Miss Pointer here tells me you have a nice trim one."

"Yes, I suppose so," she replied as the three of them stood in the living room together with the young male and young female manikins that Grace would beat when there was no live victim available.

"Mr. Fong has been kind enough to bring over a few of his toys."

"Might we have a drink first," asked Beth.

"Afterwards. Fu will be treating us to The Golden Dragon then. But he and I both want a clear head as we work with you. And we certainly don't want any of your senses to be dulled by alcohol."

"Of course not."

"I'm sure you recall these," said Fong as he pulled out some leather cuffs and straps.

"Oh yes."

"Do tell Miss Pointer how you recall them and their use."

"Mr. Fong hogtied me."

"That's nice," replied Grace. "Rather uncomfortable being hogtied, I would imagine."

"And."

"And?"

"And he used them when he had me sit on a wedge while we had diner."

"On a wedge?"

"Yes. On a wooden wedge with all of my weight supported on it."

"Oh my. I should think that it would be rather difficult to enjoy a meal in that position."

"Very much so. But I was dressed then, you know."

"I bet he had a wedge of lettuce for a salad, right?"

Fong laughed. "Next time, perhaps. With Roquefort."

"Let me help you with undressing," offered Fong.

"I can manage."

When Grace and Fong took a seat together on a sofa Beth realized that that had been a mistake. Now she had to strip there in front of them.

She turned her back to them and started to unbutton her blouse.

"Don't be rude, Beth," implode Grace.

Beth turned to face them as she continued.

She laid down her blouse and then her bra on a table and unzipped her skirt. When off it came Fong saw that she was wearing a pink tong as Grace had instructed. She was also wearing pink stockings with garters and pink, short-rise high heels.

Beth put her hands on her tong but Grace stopped her. "That won't be necessary."

"Very nice," said Fong.

"Do you want me to go to Harrold?"

Harrold, you see, was the name of the male manikin. His cock had been used to gag Beth while Grace had beaten her.

"No. We shall be going over to Fu's house."

Oh no, she thought. The one with the dungeon for a basement.

Oh God.

"Just let me get my thing," said Grace.

Beth watched as Grace surveyed her implements. Sure enough she selected the horrid whip. So they would soon be off to Fu Fong's home and dungeon for her evening whipping.

Nice.

"I have these for you, Miss Atkins."

Beth watched as he squeezed her breasts one at a time and put a clamp on each nipple. Then he took out a double-tubed sheath and put her arms in them behind her back. With the two sleeves knitted together Beth's arms were confined right together. This made her rather modest breasts jut out, as did the horrid clips.

Next Fong draped a cape over her.

Finally he placed a metal cage over her head which had a projection which went inside her mouth over her tongue. Such had been used in medieval days to hold the tongues of talkative women.

"Shall we go," said Grace as she held the coiled whip and Beth's clothes plus Beth's and her own purse.

Out of the house into the twilight they went to Fong's Mercedes with Fong leading the way and Grace bringing up the rear.

Beth felt like some sacrificial lamb of centuries ago as she walked almost naked beneath the coarse woolen cape in her pink heels with her head in a cage and her tongue pushed down by the metal prong. God but this all had better pay off.

Beth sat in the back during the drive scared half to death as Grace and Fu chatted merrily away up front.

"It was nice of you to drive over, Fu. We could have come to your house, you know."

"No problem. After diner I'll drive you back and then Miss Atkins can drive herself on back home."

"That's very considerate of you. Don't you agree, Beth?"

All that Beth could do was to go "aauuuugggggeee" with her tongue so depressed. Of course the clips on her nipples didn't help matters, what with them projected out against the coarse cape by her arms being held snuggly together behind her back.

It wasn't a very pleasant ride; at least for Beth.

"I have a CD. Would you like to hear it Miss Pointer?"

"Of course."

At the push of a button the sounds of torture filled the Mercedes.

"AAAAAHHHHH."

"NOOOOOO."

"OH GOD."

WHIP WHIP WHIP WHIP WHIP came the unrelenting sound of a whip striking skin. But it wasn't just an instrumental. No, it had voice too.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH"

"No more. PLEASE. DON'T. AAAAAAUGGGGGGGG"

SWISH SWISH SWISH THWICK!!

"That's lovely Fu. Where did you get it?"

"Why I recorded it myself at home, Miss Pointer."

"At your home?"

"Of course."

Beth felt tears start to well up in her eyes. She looked at the door to escape but no way could she with her arms totally immobilized. Even had she managed to flee the vehicle, then where would she have gone down the road wearing a cape and a metal cage helmet, unable to speak because of the steel tongue suppressor? She felt claustrophobia closing on her.

Finally Fong changed the torture CD over to pipe organ music of the most menacing sort. The kind that proclaimed impending doom.

Beth's impending doom.

Now Beth was sweating beneath the wool cape in addition to tears of fear welling up in her eyes. How on earth could she ever have agreed to be in this position? Once she was though with this evening's ordeal that would be it. No promotion was worth this.

"What do you recommend at the restaurant?"

"I find the eel to be excellent. But they do have a fine selection of snake. They also do the smoked sturgeon rather well."

- - - - - - - -

Beth recalled the house as they pulled in. As she stepped out of the vehicle while Fu held the door open she looked at the stark contrast between her pink stockings and high heel shoes there beneath the bottom of the coarse brown woolen cape. The collision of two world.

Fu led the way through the room where she had been hogtied. As they passed the dining table she saw that the sawhorse with that hideous wedge was still there at one end of the dining table in plain view. Grace looked to see what Beth was looking at and went to the short sawhorse where she slide her fingers along it crest.

The door to the basement squeaked as Fu slowly opened it. He and Grace exchanged smiles. "I never oil it," he explained as he moved it back and forth a few times causing it to squeak more.

With the flip of a light switch they descended the steps into a well-lit chamber; into the replica of a torture chamber.

"Why Mister Fong this is most authentic. I must congratulate you. Don't you agree, Beth? Isn't it marvelous?"

All Beth could utter was a muted gurgle of sort what with her tongue still being depressed by that steel tongue depressor inside her cage helmet. At least the room wasn't cold and damp. You see the house was heated by an old coal furnace which was located at one end of the room.

Fong went over to it and swung open a cast iron door whereupon the glow of burning coals filled his face through the open portal. He took hold of a long iron tweezer and stoker and stoked the fire. He continued on stoking and then closing the portal and showed the stoker to the ladies which was glowing orange hot.

Surely he wasn't going to brand her, thought Beth.

Fong walked to her and held the glowing stoker close enough to Beth face for her to feel the heat. Then he laughed and returned it to its place.

"Now don't have a heart attack on us, Beth," said Grace. "I'm sure Mister Fong is just toying with you. Right; Fu?"

You see, even Grace wasn't total sure.

"I'm sure Miss Atkins finds it too warm down here. Why don't you remove her cape, Grace and make her more comfortable."

Now the protection which Beth had found the cape to provide was gone. She looked down through her head-cage bars to see her tits still clamped and below them her pink tong, pink stockings and garters, and pink low-heel shoes. Of course she still felt the unrelenting pressure of her shoulders being drawn back by her arms being held together behind her by the double-tubed sheath.

"Perhaps you would like to limber up, Grace."

Beth's eyes left her own body and turned to Grace who had been holding her whip in a coil with one hand.

Grace released her grip on the coil which let it ungather down upon the concrete floor. She watched lustfully as Beth's eyes followed it to see that it went well beyond just reaching the floor and spread out on the floor like a serpent.

Grace put her face to the bars of Beth's helmet and put her nose through them until it touched Beth's.

"You see dear Beth, Fu may be all show, but I'm not. No, as I'm sure you realize I really am going to whip you. And oh how I'm going to enjoy seeing you wither in pain all while subject to Mister Fong's most inventive instruments of bondage. Yes, this is truly going to be a delight for both Fu and myself."

Nice.

Very nice.

While Grace was explaining how much she was going to enjoy her whipping of Beth, Fu Fong had already been getting his kicks in seeing his victim so immobilized and completely under his control and dominance down in his own dungeon. This was in such contrast to the other time that Miss Beth Atkins had been in his house, hogtied and having diner while sitting on the edge of a wedge. While that had been done in stressed dignity with Beth fully dressed, now she was to be whipped on bare, sensitive skin in as yet unknown positions dictated by him.

Slowly Grace began to limber up by swinging and snap-cracking her whip in the open confines of the basement dungeon. As Beth followed the practice whipping she had time to scan the spacious room through the helmet bars.

There were several chains suspended from the ceiling with cuffs. There was a rack upon which one could be stretched. Of course it was here just to enhance the ambience of the chamber.

There was a stout wooden chair with cuffs on each arm. Its seat had a field of projections. Above and behind it was a metal hood which resembled an old electric chair. When she saw that she closed her eyes for it had no eye-holes. Only a disc-shaped hole near the mouth with a gaudy red circle about it. Her brain could absorb no more. She was in overload and near panic.

As she stood there with her eyes closed she heard the horrid sound of the whip slashing the air and snap-popping. Then she heard it strike something. She opened one eye to see Grace whipping a wooden support column.

She watched as Grace would lean down with the whip dragging the concrete floor behind her and then smash the whip onto the wood column so that it wrapped about it until its tail snapped it. Then she watched as the whip would loosen its grip on the column and fall to the floor. Grace would then walk until her face almost touched the column and give it a kiss before walking back dragging the whip on the floor to repeat the process.

Fu went to Beth and removed the sheath from behind her thus freeing her arms. Then he removed her nipple clips. When he saw that Grace had finished her limbering up he went to a crank and lowered a chain. With an evil smile he wiggled his finger to beckon Miss Beth Atkins, a corporate ladder climber over.

Beth walked over holding her hands together over her abdomen under the gaze of Grace. Gentle Fu cuffed them together in front of her and walked back to the crank.

Beth watched as she saw her cuffed wrists and hands slowly rise in front of her through the bars of her helmet. She watch as they rose above her. She watched until she felt her body complete taut with her arm straddling her helmet.

Fong looked at Grace for approval. Grace gave a slight wave of her hand to indicate that she wanted her higher.

Beth felt herself being lifted up until she was on her tiptoes in her pink high heels and stockings. At that point Fong looked to Grace to see if she wanted her yet higher and suspended above the floor. Grace indicated that that was high enough for the moment.

Expecting to see Grace walk behind her she was surprised to see her ready to strike the first blow while facing her. Through the bars of her cage-helmet she watched Grace take her stance to strike. But just before doing so she gave a nod to Fu.

Into the chamber flowed the heavenly chamber music of Mozart played by a string quartet. What a sweet and lovely touch.

Then the cobra struck.

Beth couldn't help but to keep her eyes open as she watch Grace swing the whip which looked like it was coming right at her. How could one woman do this to another face- to- face. But instead of hitting her helmet or breasts it wrapped once around her hips before its tail popped onto her left ass cheek with a vicious bit.

Both Fu and Grace walked over to assess the damage. There was a slight rose color mark which encircled Beth's hips from the force of the whip, but where the tail had snapped onto her bun there was a pronounced budding welt.

As Grace walked back to continue Fong gave a small clap of his hands as applause.

He was impressed. Favorably impressed.

Slowing Grace continued to whip Beth as she faced her, devouring the look of Beth's face as she watched her take her preparation and then to spring forward and crack her whip so that it wrapped once around Beth's hips before its tail bit into her bun. Grace was so good at this as to be able to alternate her tail-strikes from bun to bun. Beth could only think of the hot stocker that Fu had held up to her face after heating it in the coal-fired furnace.

Seeing how expert Grace was at this Fong moved into a position at eye level with Beth leaving just enough space between them for the end portion of the whip to pass between them as it wrapped about her hips.

Now Beth found herself not only watching Grace's repeated performances but at Fong in the foreground as he smiled at her through the bars of her head-helmet and listened to her cries that were limited by her tongue continuing to be depressed as the heavenly music of the recorded string quartet continued to the score of Mozart.

For the next phase Fong at last removed the cage helmet. Beth gasp in relief. Then he inserted a red ball-gag into her mouth and tied it off behind her head. At the order of Grace he ratcheted Beth up until she was suspended a foot above the floor. With a hard spank to her bun she was sent swirling about.

Grace now took up a position behind the suspended volunteer and went to work lashing her back. This caused Beth slowly to rotate, but that didn't deter Grace. No, she took up a slow but constant pace of whipping the body there before her in its pink tong and pink stockings and pink high heels. Grace paid no heed to the rotated position of her suspended victim but struck again and again as Mozart continued on as he had through the ages.

The majority of the strikes remained on Beth's back but often the tail of the whip would strike her beneath her armpits and its tail snap-bit a breast. That was why Fong had been thoughtful enough to have removed the tit-clips.

Beth was now almost oblivious to the pain inflicted by the cruel whip. She just closed her eyes and heard the music play on as time and time again the whip whipped into her back and occasionally onto her breast as her suspended body slowly rotated.

Suddenly the whipping paused.

Grace went over to examine a whip welt that had breached. She rubbed her finger over it and then licked it. Yes, she could taste the taste of blood. For her that was always the signal to stop; or at least to pause and take a break. With a nod to Fong he lowered Beth until she was sitting on the floor. Then he cut Mozart.

"There now; I think we'll take a short break," said Fong as he removed the red ball-gag. "Would you like some water?"

"Oh yes," said Beth.

"I was talking to Grace."

"Oh. Sorry."

As she sat there Grace applied a small band aid to the spot where a couple of drops of blood had materialized.

"Do you think we have time for one more round before diner, Fu," asked Grace.

Fong looked at his watch. "We do have reservations for the three of us, but yes. There's time."

Wonderful, thought Beth.

"Why don't we have her ride Charlie while you finish up her whipping."

"Excellent."

"Do give me a hand in mounting her, if you would."

"Certainly."

Fong helped Beth get up and then walk across the room to a sizable, elevated sawhorse. Not like the one at the dinner table, which was short in both length and height. This one though, she noted with tentative relief, had a hole in its center. At least at that point there would be no wedge.

As she stood before the elevated sawhorse with its ridged, wedge-shape top, Grace removed her pink tong. Together Fu and Grace lifted her up in mounting her straddling the sawhorse and the wedge hole above Beth's privates.

"Is that comfortable, Miss Atkins?"

"You're kidding."

"I think we need a little added weight."

Thinking that he again would again tie her ankles and feet up flush against her thighs and then suspend weights, she was surprised when he instead brought out a split wooden board with semicircular holes to accommodate her neck.

Beth felt the added weight of the board as the sawhorse weight pressed up against her crotch, except for that hole was which was beneath her vagina. Fu then clamped the two pieces together about her neck and cuffed her arms to the beam in a fully extended horizontal position.

Grace stood in front of her with her whip coiled.

"Do you think you can have enough self-control as not to scream so that we don't have to use the ball-gag again?"

"I'll . . . I'll . . . try."

"Good. Mister Fong; if you please."

Grace came close and looked at Beth's hairy crotch as Fong began to crank a well-greased dildo up through the hole in the sawhorse wedge and onto the lips of Beth's pussy.