Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 05: Conclave, A Two-Part Invention

Khalidah felt a pang of regret now that she'd confessed to Liz. The sequelae of the mock execution seemed benign but ordinarily she was a stickler for consent. Ginny and Angie had consented, technically, but hardly ethically. She liked the Wentworth sisters, but when she ran into Ginny at the Forge she was little more than cordial despite her efforts; their relationship certainly hadn't developed any warmth.

Yes, she thought, she really should volunteer, She'd probably hate every minute but then again Ginny had too during the execution - of that she was certain. Liz could get her into a session, one with Ginny at the helm - yes, perhaps even her very first one. Ginny would thrash her, the score would be evened, and maybe they could finally be friends. She'd check in with her beforehand, make sure Ginny was cool with it. She put these thoughts to one side - she might as well enjoy today's show.

Ginny...? I gulp in surprise - by now I have utmost respect for the collar's disciplinary sting. Why are you here?

Ginny and Angie hadn't talked much since the execution. It's not that they'd become estranged; they'd simply had too much to do, between work and their respective explorations. Angie didn't know Ginny had applied to be a tormentor - Ginny didn't know Angie had volunteered. Each wondered what crime the other committed to be there. They knew they needed to communicate more; they'd agreed to try, but there wasn't any hurry, so they'd assumed. They both felt awkward about the more intimate aspects of that earlier experience - would they receive absolution today?

Oh Ginny, that hurt, didn't it. I see her wince, feel her pain as only a sister can, watching the bands around her wrists tighten brutally, even if just for a second or two. Mostly they aren't so uncomfortable - they seem to slacken a little if I don't struggle too much, allowing me to recover my circulation. Maintaining circulation, conscious breathing, relaxing through cramps, these were lessons I'd learned well the previous year. They're paying off in spades now. This can't be a coincidence, Ginny and Bev both here today - is this your idea of a joke, Liz? I'm feeling sorry for my sister but I'm also trying desperately not to giggle again.

Fully recovered from her initial shock, Ginny stood staunchly erect, trying remarkably successfully given the circumstances to maintain her dignity as the attendant, a sturdy, handsome young man about her own height who also seemed vaguely familiar ripped open the Velcro seams fastening her entrance robe. He tore it off her body in one swift motion and handed it to the second attendant, a diminutive Asian woman, also attractive and sturdy, especially for her size. Ginny did recognize her, from her interviews and training sessions. Seiko folded the smock over her elbow and left. She'd return for each one, but for this phase she'd mostly be outside the chamber, preparing device carts.

Ginny's collar rod stiffened and reversed her into pole six, the collar's rear attaching itself to the fitting placed there to receive it. She winced as it tested the integrity of its connections. Integrity confirmed, the front rod disconnected and fell limply in front of her. Her re-spread legs performed a two step as the mechanism attached to the bottom of the pole hooked and pulled the restiffened bar backward to secure her in place below. Her arms still stretched straight out in front, secured at her wrists. Ginny surfed her memory, looking for a match.

I know you - we've met somewhere. Who are you?

She knew the names of all the attendants from her training sessions, but she'd met only a few of them in person; definitely not this one. He wrapped the wide electrode-cuffs firmly around her biceps, then stepped behind her. The carriage moved forward, pressing her to the pole, forcing her elbows backward, allowing him to fasten her cuffs to the bar behind with little apparent effort. As the mystery attendant cranked Ginny's arms further back the hub paid out some slack, allowing her hands to move to her side, though the ends of the bands remained secure around her wrists. He continued cranking, pulling Ginny firmly against the steel restraining pole, stopping only when he was satisfied she experienced a suitable measure of stress. She grunted slightly but remained stoically calm.

I'm so proud of Ginny. Just like she walked to the execution station, she kept her cool here - of course, it's not as terrifying, though it will probably hurt more. She looks so fine, long hair dangling, muscles rippling against her bondage, legs spread, neatly trimmed pussy projected prominently - she seems to be taking it OK. Between Ginny and Bev the guy on pole five has a big problem, and Ginny's clearly amused, maybe a little gratified! She was finally able to make eye contact with me, even with Bev, without scowling - I think she's getting into the joke a little, perhaps she doesn't feel so alone in her quest - I know I don't!

Norm's hormones surged as the collar snapped around his neck - what more could he ask? Fear and exhilaration - what a potent mixture! Yes, he'd been caned by Liz and Ginny at the Forge, and performed in some heavy scenes at JenLiz studios, but this couldn't be the same. His crime was pretty serious - he'd followed up, foolishly, on a stock tip he should have known was pure insider information, and sold at considerable profit.

Fortunately he hadn't spent any of the money before he had to give it up, but there was no way he could afford to pay the hefty fine, even if he wanted to. This was supposed to be equivalent punishment; it surely must be worse than a play caning, however severe. But he had no choice in the matter now - he might as well enjoy it as best he could, if he could. He strongly suspected he might not.

Norm decided to screw his courage to the sticking place, given the rest of him already was. After all, he reflected, men were not called upon to volunteer - their rate of offending and conviction established the cadence of the sessions leading to Liz's onerous workload and Ginny's opportunity. Then again, as a JenLiz model he actually could volunteer for session day backup, he remembered, but would he have the patience to keep signing up until he was finally called? This way he didn't have to.

He thrilled to the sudden tug on his wrists. He was on the way to purgatory, his arousal cresting afresh with each ungainly step. Yes, he was sorry for what he'd done, he'd accept his punishment gratefully, he liked to imagine. The chamber door slid open as he approached; he got his first look inside. He saw Ginny before she saw him - what on earth had she done to be here? Ginny's eyes joined the others turning toward the entrance.

What the hell. Now it's Norm. Liz, do your mind games ever stop?

Ginny seemed to be forgetting that the whole process was built on a mind game - she'd get that by the end of the session. She'd soon learn to exploit it effectively herself.

OK Norm, quit staring at my body. You've seen it before, I even let you make me come - thanks, it was a pleasure. I'm sure Liz will give you a little extra thrashing to make up for getting to watch me suffer.

Besides Ginny, Norm had another surprise coming. "Ben, what the... OWWW...," Norm blurted out loud, momentarily, extremely momentarily, forgetting the collar.

Well, I guess you must be Ben. Thanks, Norm, for filling me in. Maybe I met with you during training, but I don't think so.

"God that hurt," Norm muttered silently. He knew both Ben and Seiko from the studio but he didn't know they worked here. He'd first met Ben at the Forge, the two of them tied together in a hot scene some weeks before the session with Liz and Ginny which got him his gig at JenLiz. He glanced at Ginny in the mirrored wall, thought he caught a flicker of a smile. He remembered watching in dread as her fingers circled the button on his shock collar's remote.

This collar hurts quite a bit more - what's that trying to tell me?

He remembered being ordered to work his tongue diligently in Ginny's tidily-trimmed twat much more fondly than he remembered the collar. Liz added to his pleasure by whacking the soles of his feet if she thought he was slacking off.

OK Ben, do your thing - not much I can do to stop you, even if I wanted.

Ben reciprocated Norm's recognition with a playfully evil grin before setting to his task, but his face turned deadpan as he tore off Norm's smock and got to work wrapping his biceps in the sinister-looking electrode cuffs. He clipped them to the rod at Norm's back and drew him against the cold steel without mercy.

Norm shivered with excitement. Ben knew precisely what was going on in Norm's mind even without looking down - he'd been there himself, called into service during backup duty at Jen's very last session before her sacrifice.

After Ben finished with Norm all seven stood ready for stage two preparation, inescapably bound for sure, strictly enough to be uncomfortable, especially if unlike Norm and Angie you weren't used to it, but nothing like what was coming. Ben left through the staff/service door to help Seiko finish readying the device carts. Norm didn't know what stage two preparation entailed, yet. Angie and Bev did. Ginny did too, and she wasn't much looking forward to it.

Hail hail, the gang's all here. I wonder how I'll feel in the punishment hogtie - it won't be long now. I remember it looked terribly strenuous. I'm still excited, for sure, in spite of my anxiety. Bev said she'd never felt so tightly bound, so helpless, in her entire life - I suppose that included the execution scene bondage. She looks pretty calm now, even resigned - what's she thinking about? She seems withdrawn into her own space. Is she thinking about that scene, about how Ginny and I must have felt as Khalidah fastened the strangulation collars, the ones Bev designed herself, around our necks? She knew how it would end but we didn't. At least this time we all know we'll get out of here alive, though that won't be for a few hours.

Norm's head followed each device cart, turning right to left as they rolled in. Seiko delivered the first, positioning it before pole one's tenant so he could examine its contents with relative ease. As Ed examined the ominous pile in the cart Norm examined Ed in the mirror - he thought he might have seen him before, at THB maybe? He couldn't recall. As Seiko passed him on her way back to the entrance she flashed him the briefest flicker of a smile.

Seiko enjoys this job - she started working at Corrections before she learned about JenLiz. Now she works there too. She appreciates the accepting environment at both facilities, the sense of excitement and purpose, the feeling of not having to hide any part of herself.

Sieko doesn't model; she does design work, some administration, even works the front desk now and then. She gets a real kick from collaborating with suppliers and equipment vendors. They tend not to ask too many questions concerning the uses for whatever's depicted on the drawings and specifications she provides, but she'll answer honestly if they do. Their regular suppliers feel comfortably indemnified, but bringing in a new one can involve some amusing negotiation. Ben wheeled in the second cart, parked it in front of Angie, and returned for Bev's as Seiko brought in cart number three.

She's so tiny, so mysterious. I'm nearly a foot taller, but I felt so powerless when she tore off my smock. What's it like nearly always being the smallest person in the room? I love her Asian bob - it just looks so right on her. Here comes Ben with my device cart. This is moving right along.

The transport system makes it possible for a small woman to handle even the largest, strongest man - that's one of the reasons Seiko loves working here, watching the helpless expressions on the faces of her reluctant clients as she prepares them for punishment. She wouldn't win a fair fight with many of them, but she's not a weakling. She practices karate assiduously - it shows in the fine condition of her body, amply visible through her tight-fitting clothes. There's no specific uniform for attendants, though they tend to cover most of their bodies in black or grey. Seiko has on short leather boots with relatively low heels. She doesn't feel any need to add to her height - it's an integral part of her persona.

Ben and Seiko alternated bringing in the carts, continuing with four and five. Stage two preparation requires two attendants working as a team so Ben stayed in the chamber after delivering Ginny's, taking Norm's rear as Seiko wheeled in cart seven. She positioned it beside Norm, moved in front of him and the two of them set to work. For a man Ben would ordinarily have the forward position, a tip to conventional sensibilities, but the tormentor can alter this protocol in specific instances if she feels so inclined. Jen wasn't above granting Norm a little je ne sais quoi - she'll balance the ledger later, of course.

Are you wondering what it would be like to be in Norm's place? Or perhaps in Ginny's? After all, you've imagined securing yourself to the transfer carriage, preparing yourself to be force-marched to your atoning chastisement. While waiting for that journey to begin you've already anticipated what it will be like when you enter the chamber, to experience having your body bound, like Norm's and Ginny's, to the restraining pole prepared for your arrival. Why stop now? It's easy to pretend.

You're standing with your legs spread, your arms pinned to your sides, your shoulders pressed against the gradually warming steel, your neck enclosed in the control collar. You're frightened, aroused maybe, wondering what's going to happen next, but if you're on pole seven you won't wait long to find out. You'll watch six device carts go by - you'd better examine the contents of your neighbor's because when Seiko arrives with yours you won't be able to see into it so easily; she'll position it by your side so it's handy for Ben as well. Rest assured, they'll make the function of every item in it abundantly clear.

If you're a woman you won't be on pole seven. This is not a sexist slight. There are always more men than women scheduled for punishment so it's impossible for you to be relegated to the end. Perhaps you'll watch five carts go by. You'll get to watch stage two preparation unfold before you experience it yourself, all the while looking into your own cart, imagining what each device will feel like once it's installed. That's what Ginny's doing right now.

Seiko took a few steps backward. She grinned mischievously, then tossed back her head and flexed into an easy backbend, the better for Norm to admire her figure. In spite of her petite frame her unambiguously convex contours bulged alluringly beneath her tightly-stretched tubular-knitted outfit. She swayed gently from side to side, waving her bobbed, jet-black hair, her bangs lightly caressing her creamy-white cheeks.

Prepare yourself for an exciting ride in Seiko's and Ben's expert hands. They're about to begin your stage two preparation.

Norm found his arousal growing by the second; he was seriously afraid of losing control of himself - his punishment would be far worse if he did, he imagined not unreasonably. Seiko was not helping.

First you'll be gagged.

Shortly before her last session Jen decided to switch from bit to ball gags for Class I sessions - they allow the wearers more leeway in facial expression and they definitely suppress screaming better when inflated.

Ben will take one strap in his left hand and swing the gag from behind, grabbing its other strap in his right hand as it sails around your head. If he misses the catch the heavy rubber ball will smack you in the face, but he never does. He'll stretch it out in front of your mouth, then pull it back against your lips. You'll receive a nasty stinging shock from your collar - you'll yelp in surprise and the ball will wind up approximately where it belongs. A few more shocks will allow Ben to seat it perfectly as he buckles it tightly around the back of your head - you'll be surprised how much it holds your mouth open as you taste its rubbery resilience. When fully inflated it's able to silence you completely, but that's not connected yet.

He'll fasten the gag's strap to the pole with a simple clamp which slides in the grooves on either side - after that you won't be able to rotate your head much, but you'll still be able to see everything going on when you look in the front mirrors.

As Ben secures your head to the pole you'll notice a thin rod descend past your immobilized face, reaching for the hub securing your wrists. Don't be fooled by its delicate appearance - it's incredibly strong, a hardened steel tube reinforced with a carbon fiber core - its stiffness will come into play a little later. Seiko will fasten it to the hub and step back as Ben releases your arms from the horizontal bar behind you.

Ed stood staunchly erect at pole one, not exactly as Ginny did at pole six. He stared into the cart Seiko placed in front of him, his anxiety generously alloyed with curiosity. The bureaucratically-inspired leaflet he'd been given to help him prepare had several sections: an introduction from the governor, tables of recidivism statistics together with warnings about escalated severity of punishment for repeat offenses, instructions to arrive clean and sober, including some puzzling guidelines concerning rectal preparation, but little about what to expect actually to happen - quite deliberately.

The instant your biceps are released the hub will reel your wrists together as the rod retracts, pulling your arms rapidly toward the ceiling, halting only when your heels lift against the shackles holding your ankles apart. You'll be relieved to feel your collar clamp sliding smoothly alongside your gag clamp as your torso rises - it's relaxed its grip on the pole a little so you won't be strangled. Just above your fastened wrists there's a short crossbar - you can reduce the discomfort if you grasp it and take your weight in your clenched fists. Be thankful for small mercies.

After studying his cart's contents, particularly the saddle-like artifact complete with projecting probe, Ed concluded he'd interpreted the instructions correctly. He corroborated his assessment with a glance at Angie's cart - her saddle had two probes.

With your ankles spread in the shackles and your arms stretched upward you'll be helpless to resist your saddle's installation. After removing it from its sanitary wrap Seiko will bend down to clamp it between your legs - once that's accomplished the heavy lifting's over; the latest saddles crawl up the pole under their own power. All Sieko has to do is press a button. How decadent!

She'll do that, initiating the saddle's ascent. Ben, still behind you, will grasp your pelvis to keep you steady as Sieko guides your rectal probe onto its target. If you have two probes that one will, for the moment, extend somewhat further to help Seiko get both of them appropriately aligned; they'll slide in concurrently as the saddle displays its technological prowess, lustily sundering your reluctant thighs as it continues its relentless mechanical rise.

All the probes were greased generously before the saddles were sealed up and placed in the cart, and though they're fairly long they aren't presently very thick - if you relax it won't hurt much as Sieko presses them home. They'll expand considerably in both length and girth when the punishment session gets underway.