Crimson Pt. 02

Her hips were good sized and gave way to a nice, plump ass. The thighs on her were magnificent. They were toned, with a decent amount of muscle. If the wrong man found himself between them, he was in trouble. Rounding it out were two small feet. That surprised me. They couldn't have been larger than a size 5 or 6. For her height and size, they were what I would consider small. However, they were attractive and pedicured. She took care of herself. As I stepped closer, I could smell oranges. I wasn't sure if it was a body wash, lotion, or perfume, but it smelled great.

I know what you're thinking. How can I not care about Crimson, yet enjoy objectifying Jordan? It's easy; I'm human. I'm attracted to women. I just didn't feel motivated to form any relationships since my wife died. Jordan, standing there naked, turned me on. I couldn't help myself and took it all in. Since Steven gave me an opportunity to explore her beautiful body, I intended to do just that. Does that make me as bad as the rest of Crimson? Probably. I just don't care.

Without saying a word, I stepped around back. Her openings were on full display. I ran my hand down the crack of her ass, pushing in a bit on her anus. She tensed up, squeezing it shut at the intrusion of my finger. I pushed in a bit more and she responded by squeezing it harder. Not a fan of anal; check. I smiled and continued my downward slide. I reached her vagina; it was large, but in proportion to the rest of her. It stood out and demanded attention, with a pair of plump outer lips enclosing equally large inner lips that dropped more than an inch. If I wanted to spend time with her, I would have plenty to play with.

My hand continued feeling forward. I used my index and ring fingers to spread her labia and allowed my middle finger to drag down the middle. It felt like wet velvet, nice and smooth. As I reached her opening, my middle finger slid inside. She was wet; really wet. I heard a low moan come from her, and she relaxed her vagina in response to my intrusion. She either liked this treatment, or her body betrayed her. Either way, she was into this.

"Is this the woman you mentioned earlier that liked her submission?" I asked Steven, but I already knew the answer.

"Yes, it is." Steven confirmed, smiling. "She's wet, isn't she?"

"Oh, yeah." I answered. "I'm surprised she's not dripping down her thighs."

I continued forward, feeling her clitoris and raised pubic mound. The hood was large and stretched tight over her clitoris, and I had to lift and push it forward with my middle finger so my index could find it. I rubbed it softly, and it responded, practically jumping at my tough. Another moan came out of Jordan. I smiled again, pulled my hand back, and patted her on her gorgeous ass. I had to admire it one last time. "Her body is amazing." I complimented. "However, I felt a little stubble."

I crouched down and felt up and down her legs. Sure enough, Jordan didn't shave this morning. I knew from Brenda that shaving is something they require the women to do daily.

"She didn't shave today." I informed Steven.

"Jordan, we've talked about this." He answered. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Still looking forward, she called out, "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't have time this morning. My husband woke up late and held me up. By the time he finished, I only had time to shower. I'll shave tomorrow, I promise."

"You need to be punished Jordan." Steven admonished her. "I want you to put on your heels and get your ass in my lounge."

"No sir, please, I promise to do better tomorrow." She pleaded.

"Do it now, don't make me repeat myself." Steven chastised her, raising his voice.

Jordan quickly ran to the side of his office and through another door.

"I used my offices here for professional and personal business. Follow me and I'll give you a quick tour."

He led me through the door Jordan just walked through. On the other side was an enormous bathroom, modeled after a locker room, that included a shower and several small lockers. As we walked in, Jordan had just finished putting on her three-inch white heels and closed one locker. Each had a combination lock and was solid, so no one could see into it.

"Each of the women I oversee has a locker. They keep a pair of heels in them, along with anything else I require." Steven explained as we walked through.

Jordan bent down and picked up what appeared to be leather cuffs from a bench and hurried through another door on the other side of the bathroom.

As we walked out that same door, we entered a large lounge. It had a seating area that held a few tables, with a couch and six recliners on one side facing a large television. The other side of the room held a bar with various liquor bottles lining the glass shelves behind it. A few doors lined the wall, one across the room from the door we entered, and one on each of the other walls.

Jordan was in the center of the room, between the seating area and the bar. She had put on the wrist cuffs and stood in the waiting position, legs spread and her arms behind her. Steven reached into his pocket and withdrew his keys. He pushed a button on a fob and a long narrow panel opened on the ceiling. From this opening slowly dropped a metal bar with two hooks hanging off the ends.

Jordan positioned herself beneath it, and when it was just a foot above her head, Steven stopped it. He stepped up and clamped Jordan's wrist cuffs to the hooks on the bar. Once secure, Steven retracted the bar until Jordan could barely keep her feet on the ground. Her body was stretched and her feet kept sliding out from under her, making her swing until she could catch herself.

Steven unlocked one door on the side of the room and invited me over. Behind the door were shelves of various bondage gear, sex devices, and punishment implements.

"I use these to either reward the women, or punish them. For Jordan this morning, it's punishment."

Steven grabbed a four-inch wide, thirty-two-inch-long leather strap. He slapped it on his hand twice and said, "Yes, this will do nicely."

Jordan had her eyes on him the entire time, and she looked scared. Before he closed the door, he said, "Almost forgot. We don't want Jordan making too much noise."

Steven grabbed a red leather ball gag and closed the door. After fastening it to Jordan, he stepped back and admired her.

"Isn't she beautiful?" He said. "I love having her secured like this. She's at my mercy, and I can do whatever I want. Sometimes I'll just have a woman or two bound in here while I watch TV or get some work done. Like I said, it's hard to walk away from Crimson, at least for me. I don't think I ever want to give this up."

Steven walked over to the bar, leaving Jordan there in her struggle to keep her feet on the ground. He poured himself a drink and handed one to me. Not one to turn it down, I accepted and downed it quickly. He sipped his, then walked back to Jordan.

With no fanfare, he swung the strap and connected with Jordan's ass. She yelled and jumped forward, knocking her off her feet and making her legs flail. The gag muffled her scream, making it somehow sound erotic. Another swing hit Jordan across her stomach, leaving a red mark. As she swung around in a circle, Steven continued swinging. He worked his way up to her breasts, then down to her legs. He was careful to not go below her knees. I asked him about that and he explained it was for Jordan.

To hide it from her husband, she would have to wear a long nightgown at home until the marks disappeared. He left no marks below her knees because it may show if she sat down. The marks also meant there would be no sex with her husband until she healed. It may take a few days to a week, depending on how much he punished her. He smiled as he explained this to me; he was enjoying himself. Jordan, not so much. Her eyes were pleading with him to stop as she screamed behind the gag and tried in vain to move her body out of the way of the strap.

After a few minutes of constant blows, Steven stopped. Jordan hung limp, sweating and crying. She was still spinning slowly, having given up her attempts to remain standing. All of her weight was now on her arms and shoulders, and I could only imagine how much that hurt. Steven walked over and drowned the rest of his drink. Afterward, he lowered the bar and unhooked Jordan. She immediately went into the waiting position, but she had trouble putting her arms into position. She must have been sore.

Steven sat down in a recliner and invited me to have a seat. He called Jordan over and told her to stand in front of us.

Steven said, "Humble," and Jordan dropped to her knees. She spread her legs and raised her ass in the air. She bent down until her head was on the floor and her arms were out in front of her. She put her hands one on top of the other and pushed forward as far as she could. She brought her feet together until her heels were touching, toes pointing straight back.

"We call this the humble position." Steven explained. "It makes the woman bow to us, reinforcing their submissiveness."

After leaving Jordan to hold this position for a minute, Steven said, "Punishment."

Jordan pulled her arms back and folded them in front of her, crossing them and laying her forehead on them. She stayed in the same spread position and ass up, but she lifted her legs, bent at the knees. She was balancing on her knees with her feet up. This looked uncomfortable.

"This is a position we use for punishments." Steven explained. "It's difficult to maintain and is painful on the knees. Her ass is up and ready to receive a paddle, belt, or strap. She must maintain this position throughout her punishment, so you can imagine the pain and difficulty she will experience."

After a few minutes of watching Jordan struggle to remain in that position, Steven called out, "Endure."

Jordan jumped up to her feet, took off her heels, and crouched down. She then put her feet shoulder length apart, spread her legs wide, and went up on her tiptoes. She put her hand on the back of her neck and looked straight ahead.

"We call this endure because it's all about enduring the pain." Steven informed me. "Standing on her toes like that will strain her legs, especially the ankles and calves. As you can see, Jordan has some shapely legs, and her calves are solid. This is due chiefly to this position. When we first train women, they can only endure around a few minutes before they collapse. Jordan can hold this for close to ten minutes. It doesn't matter how good they get; you just leave them like this until their legs burn. All the women hate this position."

Steven then called, "Expose."

Jordan dropped to her knees, spreading them wide. She then put her hands behind her head and pulled her elbows back. She put her feet together and sat back on her heels. She started straight ahead, not making eye contact with us.

"We also call this kneel, but I'm sure you can see why this is called expose." Steven continued. "She is open to everyone in front of her. None of our women have any humility, and they can expect no privacy. Every part of their body is open to us."

"If you have Jordan in private, you can do whatever you want to her." Steven explained. "We require her to submit. She will immediately follow your instruction or face punishment. Punishments must be swift, and they must be harsh. I know Jordan has been nice to you, as she is to everyone, but you can't let that get in the way."

"Rest." Steven called out.

Jordan sat cross-legged, with her hand in her lap and her head down.

"This is a comfortable position for her." Steven explained. "You can put her in this position to regain her strength and relax for a bit. To keep her focused, however, don't let her remain in this position long. If she's not engaged in a task for you, put her in a more difficult position. This goes for all the women. I'm sure Reggie has told you, but you need to do this to Brenda as well."

"I know you care for Brenda, James." Steven told me, sounding a little sympathetic. "I would normally recommend not becoming attached to any of the women you oversee. It just makes it difficult to keep them obedient. If it was just me and Jordan, I could go easy on her. However, it's me and the rest of Crimson. If Jordan gets lazy or sloppy, it comes back to me. She gets punished, but I may get her taken away from me, or kicked out of Crimson if it's bad enough."

"It takes years before a member earns the privilege of overseeing a woman." Steven continued. "Most men never get that chance. It's something that is earned through loyalty and dedication to Crimson. I can request any woman that Crimson owns, but that pales compared to the women I control. They are at my command, and I set their schedule. If another member requests one of them, I make them available if I'm not using them. It's my choice."

"You have it harder." James told me. "You do that to the woman you love. I don't envy you. Your first instinct is to protect her, but your priority is to keep her obedient. Those two do not go well together. You'll have to decide what is more important; Brenda or Crimson."

"That's easy, it's Brenda." I quickly responded. "I'm doing this for her. If there is a conflict between the club and Brenda, I'll choose her every time. I don't know everything yet, but I think you're wrong with that. Brenda isn't like Jordan. Jordan has to do this for whatever reason, while Brenda has now volunteered to do it. She now is motivated to remain obedient, and even told Reggie she would be available to high-profile clients when Reggie offered to only use her himself. I don't see why I can't have a relationship with Brenda and serve the club."

"I hope you're correct, James." Steven said. "I think we're done with Jordan. We have the meeting with your lieutenant and his wife in about an hour. Like I said, I want you to stick around so you can see how we handle brining in women to Crimson."

Steven told Jordan to get dressed, and she hurried out of the lounge. Steven said he had some phone calls to make and to meet him back in his office in an hour. I looked at the time and a couple of hours had passed. I was getting hungry, so I decided to grab something to eat. I walked back down the hall past the Steven's secretary. When I approached the elevator, I saw Jordan walking up to it as well.

She saw me, looked a little flustered, and said, "How are you, lieutenant?"

"Not yet, Lieutenant Taylor." I replied, staying formal in case someone overheard us. "I'm still a detective until the paperwork goes through. Where are you heading?"

"Out to lunch, sir." She said, then caught herself. "I mean, detective."

She looked embarrassed, and I'm sure she felt awkward after what I just witnessed her go through.

"There's a restaurant down the street." I said as we entered the elevator. "Would you like to join me for lunch?"

The door closed, and we were alone. She turned to me and said, "Is that an order, sir?"

"No, but I would like to talk with you." I explained.

"I suppose I could grab something to eat."

We walked to the restaurant and made small talk. Once we were in a nice quiet corner booth, I asked her, "How did you get involved with Crimson?"

"When I was a patrol officer, I falsified a report to get someone convicted that I was certain was guilty. I planted evidence and perjured myself on the stand at his trial. They accused him of murdering his wife. This man had a history of domestic abuse, and she was in and out of the hospital with injuries caused by him."

"I was the first officer to respond and saw her body." She went on. "It looked like someone took a baseball bat and beat her head until she wasn't recognizable. It was horrible. The detectives couldn't find a murder weapon and had nothing linking him to the murder. He was supposedly out of town for work, but didn't have a witness that could place him there on the night of the murder. He had time to drive back, kill her, and make it back to his hotel for work the next day."

"I found an old bat, took some of her blood and his fingerprint from evidence, and put them both on the bat. I went back to their apartment, still vacant, and hid it in one of the heating vents. Then I called in an anonymous tip that led the detectives to the bat. Long story short, he was convicted of murder and sentenced to death. He exhausted his appeals and was finally put to death."

"I heard about that." I replied. "It looked like a solid case. He got what he deserved."

"There was only one problem." She admitted. "He didn't do it. After his death, another man confessed to the killing. He had information about the victim and crime scene that was never released. He even led the detectives to the murder weapon. It was a baseball bat like we figured, and he hid it in the floorboards of his old house. He only grew a conscious because he was dying. He wanted to cleanse his soul before meeting his maker."

"They reexamined all the evidence, and it wasn't long before they zeroed in on me." She explained. "Captain Evans gave me a choice. Go to prison where I would likely serve most of my life, or submit myself to Crimson. I know what happens in prison to ex-cops, so I chose Crimson. I went through training and earned my tattoo. Honestly, it's not too bad. I have it easier than most of the women. I mostly only serve the captain, with the occasional member requesting me."

"The captain is picky about who may have access to me." She continued, "He doesn't want anyone who would hurt me because I'm police. He also uses me to run interference for Crimson, shutting up any woman who talks. He uses the other women on the force for the same purpose. When threatened with arrest, the women all shut their mouths and keep quiet."

"He mentioned to me you enjoy your submission, and choose to stay." I said, curious if that was true.

"That is correct." Jordan admitted. "I've been under the captain for over ten years now, and they have offered to let me leave. After serving Crimson for five years, the captain made me detective. Another five, and I made lieutenant. That is fast for even the best officers, and I wouldn't have advanced that quickly if not for Crimson. I make good money and I don't want to give it up. Captain Evans has clarified that I can leave, but since my advancements were because of my service to Crimson, he would retire me if I did."

"So, you're stuck." I replied.

"Yes, and no." Jordan answered. "I can leave. I like my job, sure, but I wish to stay. It's not only my submissive side, nor is it only my job. It's the combination. It's also the guilt I feel for getting an innocent man killed. I can never get that stain off of me."

"Your punishing yourself then." I replied. "That guy was an asshole. He may not have killed his wife, but he may have one day, if given the chance. He wasn't innocent by a long stretch."

"I understand that." She acknowledged. "That doesn't change the fact that I'm responsible for his death."

We talked a bit more and finished our lunch. We both walked back to the precinct, and I joined Steven in his office a ten minutes before his meeting with Lieutenant Matthew Connor and his wife. We chatted for a bit until his phone rang. He answered and told his secretary to let them in. I stood up and let Lieutenant Connor and his wife, Linda, have the two seats in front of the Captain's desk. I stepped back a few feet and stood behind Connor and his wife.

Steven took a folder out of his desk and opened it. "Lieutenant, I need you to surrender your weapon and badge to me before we begin."

Lieutenant Connor and his wife looked at each other and back to Steven. Connor stood up and unholstered his weapon, and unclipped his badge from his uniform. Once both were on the desk, Steven took them and put both in his desk drawer.