Diary of a Pain Slut Week 05

He looked at me very seriously. "Do you want to do that?"

"Definitely," I answered. "How much do you think we can raise?"

"I really don't know," he answered, "but whatever it is, it should help."

"Thank you, Harold," I said as I kissed him lightly on the forehead. "And don't worry about lying to me. I looked up the site a long time ago on Whois and your private email address is listed for the owner. I've known you owned Beat Girl for a long time. It doesn't matter. We all have secrets that we like to think that we keep from everybody."

He grinned at me rather sheepishly and said, "I'll put the publicity on the site today and see how many people sign up for the show."

End of entry for Day Twenty-Eight

Maddi's Diary, Day Eight, Twenty-Nine, Friday

Shirley and Vicki came out this morning before I left for group. We went out to the studio to look at the chair and make sure it was going to work for what Shirley had in mind. She had Vicki sit in it and had me on all fours down in front of her. "We'll have to put it up on blocks or something," she said. "It has to be about a foot higher."

"No problem," I answered, and pointed to several small, wooden platforms that were stacked in the corner. "We had to use these at first with the robot arms," I explained, "until Harold had their legs extended slightly."

Shirley and I dragged one of the platforms over to the chair and then hefted it onto the platform. Vicki sat back down and I got back down on my hands and knees. I was looking right at her crotch. "Perfect," said Shirley. I was starting to think I knew what she had in mind.

The whole thing was starting to get me pretty horny, but it was time to go to group, so they left and I went down to the psych floor at the hospital for group.

The sex addict boy and girl weren't there. "Karen and Terrance won't be joining us today," Dr. B explained.

Wanda giggled and said, "They got caught screwing on the floor of the gazebo in the middle of the town square."

I asked, "Did somebody see them and call the police?"

"Everybody saw them!" chortled Diane. "It was 1:00 in the afternoon."

Dr. B coughed lightly and said, "They will be participating in group at the state facility for awhile. Let's return to the issues within our current group."

"And what are those?" asked Wanda.

"We could talk about the problem of paying for all this when insurance won't cover it," I said, somewhat bitterly.

"My insurance covers it," said Wanda.

"So does mine," added Diane.

I looked over at Dr. B. He said softly, "Keep control of yourself, Maddi."

"I'm in control of myself," I answered. "I'm just really pissed off that my Dad's insurance won't pay because I was naked in public, but theirs will pay even though they raped their own students."

"It wasn't rape," they shouted in unison.

"It was just misdirected love," Wanda said as she crossed her arms in front of herself.

"Well, if you had done that to me," I said, "my Dad would have misdirected his truck right across your sorry ass."

Dr. B evidently knew when things were not going to get better and he said, "I can see that our environment for group today is just too hostile, so I am going to wrap things up early."

Wanda and Diane both glared at me. I hope my glare at least matched theirs. I decided that I was going to hold my ground so I just sat there and stared at them. Finally they picked up their purses and left together.

"Assuming that you can get the money together to pay everything off," Dr. B said to me, "this was probably your last group session with me." He smiled at me and said in a totally normal human voice, "If you still need to deal with things, wait 21 days after our last meeting and then call for an appointment. That will put it in a new case number and your Dad's insurance should pay 80%... and that will be at the lower rate."

As I got up to leave, he said, "See you Monday... for the last time, I hope."

Work was pretty normal except for having to not react when one of the other waitresses asked if I had heard that Beat Girl was going to be live at the Pit tomorrow night. "You ought to watch her webcasts sometime," she said. "I think you could really learn something."

I just answered, "I might do that some day," and bit down hard on my lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing

End of entry for Day Twenty-Nine

Maddi's Diary, Day Thirty, Saturday

Harold called first thing this morning to say that he was pretty sure that the pay-per-view would help with my expenses. I asked him how many were already committed and he answered, "The numbers aren't real until the credit card clears. There are a ton of people signed up for reminders, but I can't actually charge the cards until the show starts and they sign in. I'll let you know the numbers Sunday morning."

Shirley also called to say that she was bringing out two of the bouncers to help move the chair and platform. I told her that I had to leave for work, but explained where the key to the studio was hidden.

Work was OK. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. My tips were down again because I was distracted and not paying enough attention to the customers. I'm normally not a clock watcher, but I kept looking over at the clock to see what time it was. Show time isn't until 2:00 am, so I am going to drive myself crazy if I keep this up.

The clock slowly dragged its way around to 4:00 and I left for home. There wasn't anything I needed to do to get ready for tonight's show, so I surfed the web and read and took a nap.

Shirley said she and Vicki would pick me up at 10:30, so around 8:00 I drew myself a hot bubble bath and soaked for about an hour. Then I used the shower to wash my hair and got it set. I really wanted to wear Shirley's collar tonight, but she said that it would identify me too clearly since I have been wearing it around town. I gave a deep sigh as I left it on my dresser.

I put my pink cape and mask in a small travel case and set it by the door. I was wearing a white, A-line dress with nothing underneath it. Shirley said that she would park in the back in the owner's spot in the alley. After we make sure everything is set up back stage, we go out the back door and come in the front like regular customers. Then we can sit in one of the back booths and relax until around 1:30. We go out the front doors like we were leaving and come back in the back door and get ready.

Shirley arrived exactly on time– she always does, and we drove into town. It was 11:00 when we got to The Grease Pit. The parking lot was already absolutely full and cars were parked on the grass by the road. So much for sitting unnoticed in a back booth and relaxing.

Tommy met us at the back door and said, "I'm sold out of tickets, but I've got people offering me double or triple to let them stay for the show. If I open the folding doors to the party room, I am legal for 300. Nobody can see from there and nobody will be in there when the show starts, but the cops can't shut me down for overcrowding. Do you want me to overbook?"

Shirley answered him with, "Be damn sure you keep it under 300. I don't want any legal surprises in the middle of the show. Do you have some kind of ticket so the bouncers know if someone has paid or snuck in?"

He answered, "Everybody gets a stamp when they turn in their ticket. If they don't have a big blue GP on their left hand, they aren't legal."

"OK," Shirley shouted. Even backstage it was almost impossible to hear because of the noise of the crowd.

"Looks like we wait back here," I said.

"Yeah," answered Vicki, "but if they are sold out and adding 50 more at double price, you are clearing somewhere around $40,000. That ought to clear up your troubles."

"About that," Shirley said, somewhat seriously. "When we were figuring what we needed to take in, we forgot Uncle Sam's cut, and the state's cut and the city's. This is all declarable income, plus the state has an entertainment tax and the city has an entertainment surcharge and both have to be paid when we clear the license."

I looked over at her in shock. "Dad reminded me last night," she said. "Taxes are going to take about a third, so the extra will bring us back up to where we thought we would be to begin with."

I must have looked a little disappointed because she raised my chin and said, "Don't worry. It will be enough. Just worry about the performance."

We sat in the back talking while we waited for show time. Vicki kept going up and peeking out through the curtain. "You keep that up," I told her, "and somebody is going to recognize your face."

I had a sudden thought, "You did bring a mask didn't you?"

"I'm not that stupid," she replied, sticking out her tongue. "But I don't know if it is going to do much good. Anybody who has seen me naked will recognize me. I am pretty distinct down there."

"How many have seen you fully turned on?" asked Shirley.

"Nobody!" she answered, almost shouting. Then in a bit softer voice said, "Well, almost nobody."

Shirley raised her eyebrows at her and Vicki said, "OK a dozen or so people, but almost all of them are girls so I don't really expect them to be out there tonight."

"Don't bet on it," I interjected. "Harold says that almost 75% of Beat Girl's followers are female. That greatly increases the odds that some girl you have slept with will be out there." I paused and asked, "What about the guys?"

Vicki scrunched up her face and answered, "Most guys I've slept with know how big I feel, but I don't think any of them know how big I look. And about half of them didn't even notice."

"Just so your face is well covered, you are OK," said Shirley. "They might suspect, but if they don't see your nose and the area around your eyes, they can't be sure."

"Oh, oh," I said.

"What now?" asked Vicki.

"Robin's mask doesn't cover his nose, just the area around his eyes."

"Thought of that," she replied and held up a bright yellow hooded mask. It was very similar to Beat Girl's Batman mask except it didn't have any ears on top. It did have, however, a smaller black mask sewn into it.

"Besides," she said. "I'm not Robin. I'm Nubbin." Then she stuck her tongue out at me again.

Tommy came in through a doorway behind the bar. "Show time in a half hour. Is everybody ready back here?"

"Ready, willing and able," I answered. I laughed and then pointed to myself and said, "I'm willing." Pointing to Vicki, I said, "She's ready." And finally pointing to Shirley, I said, "And she's able."

I was the only one who laughed at my joke. Shirley just said quietly, "OK Nubbin, let's get you dressed and into position."

Vicki pulled off her dress and pulled on the yellow Nubbin mask with the Robin mask sewn into it. Then she tied a matching bright yellow cape around her neck.

I did the same with my pink Beat Girl outfit.

Out front we could hear Tommy making an announcement through the speaker system. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he said. "The Grease Pit Bar and Grill will officially close at 2:00 am. No alcohol can be purchased after that. The stage and dining area has been rented by Beat Girl Websites Incorporated, and they will be presenting a show that will begin shortly after 2:00 am. If you do not have The Grease Pit stamp on your left hand, you will have to leave at 2:00 o'clock. No exceptions."

Shirley was standing over by the bondage chair and she signaled with her hand that Vicki should come over there. Vicki is smaller than my Mom, so when she sat down on the chair, it spread her legs even wider than it had Mom's. I looked between her legs and her labia and clit were enormous. It reminded me of one of those Georgia O'Keeffe paintings of flowers that looked like a woman's cunt. As Shirley tightened the straps on Vicki's arms, I could see her clit starting to enlarge and stiffen.

"Somebody likes this," I said in a teasing way.

"No, I don't" countered Vicki.

I reached down between her legs and swiped my finger through her slit. It came out glistening. I held it up in front of Vicki's eyes and said, "The juices never lie. You may or may not like pain, but you love being tied up."

Vicki just looked back at me like a little kid who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Help me push her into place," Shirley said, and we pushed the chair out into the center of the stage just behind the curtain.

We were just in time because I heard the Beat Girl theme start to play. Tommy had a video that was supposed to play on all the screens that had the intro to Beat Girl. The crowd was shouting along with the music, "dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, Beat Girl!" Then everyone screamed "WHAP!"

The music repeated and so did the insane chanting of the crowd. They screamed out "Beat Girl," and then "KA-POW!"

Everything repeated for a third time with everyone screaming even louder, "ZAP!"

The music started again and the curtain opened rapidly as I ran toward it. I was afraid my timing would be off, but I got to the very front of the stage and spun around to show my ass to the crowd just as they yelled "Beat Girl."

I stood there, bent over slightly, showing everything I had to the crowd in the room as Shirley slowly sashayed on stage and out to the front. It was like watching a cat walk across a field with its body down low as it sneaks up on its prey. She was wearing an absolutely skin tight, black, full-body cat suit that hid everything but left nothing to the imagination. It was so tight that you could tell that she was completely shaven between her legs. Something as small as the hair of a landing strip would have shown clearly.

She raised the microphone in her hand and began. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen," she said. "We have a very special show for you tonight. For the first time EVER, Beat Girl is appearing live." There was thunderous applause and a lot of whooping and hollering.

"And joining Beat Girl tonight is Nubbin!" Shirley thundered. She sounded a lot like one of those ring announcers on the wrestling channel. Well, there were a lot of similarities in the programming.

Vicki's chair had been more or less in the dark until then, but now a bright spotlight illuminated her bound figure. There were actually two lights. One lit up the entire chair and showed her whole body. The other, much brighter, was concentrated on her slit. The moisture glistened in that very bright light.

You could see that her eyes were wild behind the mask and she was shaking her head from side to side and trying to scream through the ball gag. I think she was acting, but I wasn't sure. She might have just lost it when the curtain opened and she saw 300 peoples staring at her open crotch.

Shirley walked over to Vicki and stood beside her. "Care to guess why they call her 'Nubbin'?" she asked with a laugh. Then she reached down and flicked Vicki's clit hard with her gloved fingertip. Vicki screamed and thrashed and the crowd roared with laughter.

Shirley looked out over the crowd and said, "I am Beat Cat and I will be your host for the evening." Then she walked along the front of the stage, teasing the audience with what was almost a bump and grind walk. By the time she stopped next to me, she had everyone's attention.

"Tonight we are going to start with a little contest," she said. "Those of you who follow Beat Girl on the web know that she is turned on by pain." There were a couple of whoops and yelps in response to that statement.

Looking back over at Vicki, she purred out, "Care to guess what turns Nubbin on?"

There was some murmuring from the crowd and Shirley leaned down slightly and spoke directly to a girl in the front row. "You ever given a blow job... ... to a girl?" She asked. The crowd roared once again with laughter. Shirley turned and started walking once again across the front of the stage.

"Of course not," she said. "A woman doesn't have a horn to blow." The crowd laughed again. She leaned down toward another obviously drunk woman and said, "You DO know that in a blow job you are really supposed to be sucking, not blowing, don't you?" The crowd laughed again. "Maybe she doesn't know," Shirley purred. "Maybe that isn't fat on her boyfriend. Maybe he is just over-inflated."

She was back at Vicki's chair before the laugher finally died down. "Nubbin has something to blow on, or more accurately something to suck on. Tonight we are going to see if Beat Girl can suck Nubbin to orgasm before I drive her to orgasm by pounding her ass with this paddle."

She reached behind the chair and held up a thick wooden paddle. No wonder she wanted the program to be spontaneous. Either Vicki or I or maybe both of us might have backed out if we had known for sure what was planned.

Shirley suddenly turned toward the audience and shouted, "How many of you are into pain?... receiving, not giving?"

A surprising number of people cheered. Most of the voices sounded female.

"So you know," Shirley continued, "that in a proper pain session, you have to start with a warm up."

Several voices yelled out their agreement.

"Time to draw our first door prize," she said. "Some lucky member of our audience tonight is going to get to come up here on stage and warm up Beat Girl with a 50 swat hand spanking."

Tommy the bartender walked out on stage carrying a heavy wooden chair and a large glass jar filled with slips of paper. He set the chair down at the front of the stage to the right of Vicki and then held out the jar to Shirley.

Shirley made a big show stirring the papers in the jar and then stuck her hand way in and pulled out a single slip. "Oops," she said, "got two of them," and she threw the slip back into the jar.

The audience couldn't see what I saw. She had palmed a slip in advance. The drawing was rigged! What was she up to?

She turned and faced the audience, "Brad Summers, are you out there?"

There was a bunch of wild applause from Brad's friends and he came bounding up onto the stage. Shirley had him sit down on the chair and then she crooked her finger over at me calling me to my fate.

I walked slowly over to Brad. As I passed Shirley, I hissed "Traitor" at her. She ignored me and began instructing Brad. "Remember, this is a warm up. Start out firm and slow and then build up to hard and fast."

I lay down over Brad's lap and he rubbed his hands over my butt. Suddenly he leaned down close to me and said, "Hello, Maddi."

I stiffened on his lap and he continued, "I'm shit for remembering faces, Maddi, but I never forget an ass, especially an ass like yours."

"Thank you," I replied. "Now warm it up for me, and please keep Beat Girl's little secret."

"Anything for you," he answered. "Maybe we can repeat that night some time." He started swatting. "But I don't think so," he continued. "Things just came together. You can never repeat something like that." His swats were getting stronger and faster. "But I will always have my memories, and after tonight, I will have these memories, too."

This wasn't fair. This was supposed to be a warm up spanking and I was about ready to pop my cork. The thought that he knew who I was and remembering that night was so humiliating and embarrassing. That was adding to the swats and I was climbing orgasm hill a lot faster than I had intended.

Then I heard Shirley's voice, "Whoa, cowboy, whoa. Fifty! Only fifty. We don't want Beat Girl losing before the contest even starts do we?"

The audience laughed, thinking that she was kidding, but she and Brad knew that she was very, very close to the truth.

"I think we need to level the playing field a little," yelled Shirley out to the audience. She reached again behind Vicki's chair and brought out a huge, battery powered Magic Wand. She turned it on to high and held her microphone up next to it so the humming filled the room through the speakers. Vicki's eyes were wide and she was shaking her head from side to side and thrashing her legs like she was trying to get out of the chair.