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

Ed wondered what anal penetration would feel like - would it hurt? He was here, he granted, to be punished, so it wouldn't be terribly surprising if it did. But it would be a while before he could find out directly. Norm and five others would be prepared before his turn arrived; perhaps he could tell by watching their faces.

If, like Ed's, your saddle has just one probe it will have a phallic support shelf. Seiko will make sure your genitalia come to rest there rather than getting trapped underneath as your saddle rises.

Norm is primarily heterosexual but he's often been penetrated in BDSM scenes, so the sensation as Seiko raised his saddle, sinking his probe deep into his colon, held no surprises. Ed watched Norm's face as his saddle ascended, relieved to observe no signs of distress.

The probe insertion may not hurt much but the pair of electrodes just in front of it will; they'll be activated once your attendant has the saddle almost all the way up. You'll try desperately to avoid their sting - your probe, both if you have two, might withdraw a centimeter or so as you try to lift yourself using your arms only to be thwarted by your clamped ankles, then you'll be penetrated even deeper as Seiko continues lifting the saddle to close the gap. You'll dance obscenely for Seiko's pleasure, for everyone's - at that moment you'll be the star of the show. As you struggle to pull yourself away she'll raise the saddle further, taking a moment as the gap closes for the last time to position whatever features you possess in that vicinity onto reciprocal mating surfaces. Once the saddle's up as far as it can possibly go she'll lock it into position and to your great relief, turn off the shock. Then she'll enable your orgasm suppressor.

Norm hauled himself upward reflexively the moment the top of his saddle touched his crotch, yelping in surprise. Seiko followed him right along, never breaking contact - no alignments needed for him.

If you have two probes your orgasm suppressor now has all the resources it needs; it will reach full effectiveness a couple of seconds after Seiko activates it. Chances are you won't get to experience its exquisite discipline (though Jen may have more to say about that) but if the sensors in your probes summon it for duty it will be ready. Even if you don't require its services perhaps you'll enjoy watching the expression on your neighbor's face as his suppressor completes its somewhat more involved setup.

Ed, not yet aware of the stinging contacts, looked freshly anxious as he pondered Norm's tardy distress-response. He'd figure it out before they got to him.

If you are that neighbor, equipped with a phallic support shelf, Seiko will confirm that your scrotum is properly seated in its cavity and you're extended outward more or less in the middle; she'll make adjustments if required, taking care not to create unnecessary stimulation.

Norm required no adjustments whatever; he already projected straight out nearly horizontally, his balls settling perfectly into the saddle's scrotal receptor. Seiko's final raising rendered him nicely level. He sighed with relief once she terminated the shocks, easing himself back onto his temporarily inert saddle, wondering how he looked, but he couldn't see, since Seiko stood in the way - that was fine by him, he decided. She smiled directly into his face, wondering, though not much, how he'd respond to what came next.

Let's suppose you have just one probe and Seiko has you satisfactorily spread-seated, impaled and extended. The suppressor's actuator jaws will rise from the saddle; if you're not exactly centered you'll feel one or the other nudge you precisely into position as they close in from each side. They'll stop when they detect roughly equal resistance. They're lubricated, they won't pinch or gall as they bend inward and join - you'll feel some pressure as the linked pair contract snugly around the base of your penis.

It's reminiscent of the collar around your neck; indeed, its function is much the same - with the actuator closed around you, the sensors operational and the software running, your sexual continence is guaranteed. No matter how much you might be into this you won't, unless the tormentor permits, be able to ejaculate or even to climax, not completely at any rate; the next step bears some hazard in that regard.

Norm wasn't altogether surprised to feel the jaws close around his telltale-rigid shaft - he'd imagined there'd probably be something like this; in fact he was relieved, excited to be placed in this additional form of bondage and subjugation. Now he wouldn't need to worry about coming inadvertently, so he supposed.

Ben's already removed the sanitary wrap from your pre-lubricated punishment sleeve and handed it to Seiko. She'll plug its combined electrical cable and suction tube into a socket on the saddle - vacuum from the new saddles is a great improvement over the squeeze-bulb they had to manipulate prior to its introduction.

Since Seiko blocks your view in the mirror and you can't look directly down you won't be able to see her extend the sleeve toward you but the instant the tip of your penis enters its slippery opening you'll know what's happening; within seconds you'll be drawn in, sliding intimately over the electrodes lining it though you probably won't feel anything special from them just yet. You're in for a shock when you do!

Seiko touched Norm's punishment sleeve to his glans and steadied it as his swollen cock squeezed in, rather more slowly than usual on account of its substantial girth relative to the caliber Seiko selected when loading his cart, her choice guided by the image processing system's estimate of his dimensions when flaccid - it took several seconds for the sleeve to bottom out on his suppressor's jaws. The little red light flashing faster and faster on his saddle told her all she needed to know.

Resistance will be futile, not that you'll have much inclination yet. You'll will later but the vacuum will keep you helplessly engorged, keep you pressed firmly on the cruel surfaces of torment, keep you tightly coupled in your enforced continence for the entire session regardless of your state of arousal - yet another part of your subjugation. It may seem paradoxical, but the sleeve is also equipped with pneumatic actuators - it's capable of inducing extreme pleasure as well as excruciating pain. She'll clamp it to the saddle once you're in as far as you can go.

With lightning speed Seiko clipped the sleeve to Norm's saddle and stepped back, grinning sadistically - this didn't happen all that often and she loved watching when it did. A moment later the jaws squeezed tight.

Norm shuddered against his restraining pole, arms and legs straining, toes and fingers flexing madly, teeth clamping savagely around his gag, his face contorted into a frustrated grimace. Painful shocks from his sleeve abetted the cruel constriction, terminating his nascent climax in milliseconds. He wouldn't allow himself to reach that point again, he promised himself. He admitted it mightn't be so easy.

Truth be told, Seiko expected it, maybe even gave it a gentle nudge as she 'accidentally' brushed the sleeve over Norm's penis beforehand. Ginny watched carefully - she understood exactly what had taken place. She debated with herself the proper amount of flexibility the attendants should be permitted, also wondered what they had in store for her. They'd have to work together in the future, she mused, so they probably wouldn't do anything especially mean. Then again, she hoped they'd use their imagination - watching Norm squirm in frustration was more fun than she expected. She found herself actually getting into this a little, to her great surprise.

Perhaps you'll manage to sidestep that indignity. You'd best set aside the whole notion of dignity - even Ginny's composure fell short of perfection. And if your saddle doesn't have the phallic shelf do not feel deprived - Ginny, Bev and Angie don't, though Ginny would certainly prefer not to have a saddle at all. Your frontal probe has plenty of electrical contacts and actuators; it's at least the equal of the punishment sleeve in its capacity to induce pleasure and pain.

But there's more - as that probe reached full penetration you probably felt a ridge at its base ease between your labia; the ridge's clitoral electrode makes equivalently intimate contact, while other electrodes press out from either side - Seiko made sure everything wound up in just the right place before she locked the saddle's clamp. You won't be able to disturb her handiwork no matter how determinedly you try.

Look in the mirror, look at yourself. If you're a fan of inquisition movies you'll recognise a classic torture position. Witness your legs splayed, your thighs cleft by the saddle, your wrists pulled high above. But you won't be tortured in this position, not today.

Since today's punishment will not involve impact there's no need for your restraints to keep you so exposed. But for now it's useful for you to remain conveniently accessible. Ben and Seiko aren't finished with you yet.

They'll each take a wide cuff from the cart and wrap your thighs, working from both sides at once. The cuffs extend from just below your genitals almost to your knees, and you'll correctly guess from their cool, slightly slippery feeling against your skin that they contain plenty of additional electrical-torment-capable contact points.

Space is tight next to the saddle. You might try to thwart the cuffs' threading by squeezing your thighs, but not for long - the saddle has ways to discourage that.

Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds was all it took Seiko and Ben to transform Norm into the compact electrode-shrouded bundle Ginny examined in the mirror as she prepared herself mentally for the same transformation - that's far less time than it's taking you to read about it, let alone for me to write about it. They work with lightning speed - their subjects can hardly keep up from one moment to the next with what's happening to them, not that they need to.

To ensure that you remain planted securely on the saddle and its bountiful complement of electrodes Ben will circle your cuff-enclosed thighs with a wide strap, pull it tight and cinch it to the pole behind. You'll feel the velcro on the cuffs engage securely with mating surfaces on the saddle, low down where its sides are nearly vertical. Now you won't be able to lift yourself off even without your legs pulled down. You're still not done, but don't panic. Ben and Seiko aren't about to abandon you in your present state.

Norm's preparation took ten or twenty seconds longer than usual on account of his rudely interrupted unscheduled orgasm; now he'd languish in strenuous discomfort for at least a quarter of an hour before anything else happened to him - he might as well enjoy the show. It's evident to all by now that the fifty minutes specified in the sentences doesn't refer to elapsed time.

Norm's eyes met Angie's in the mirror - she'd obviously enjoyed watching him thrash in frustrated distress. She looked familiar, he must have seen her at the Forge, though not with Ginny, and they hadn't been introduced, he was certain. Angie racked her brain, trying to place him in return.

Wow, that was one hell of a show you put on, whoever you are!

Bev told me about the orgasm arrestor. She helped test it, just once, while it was being fine-tuned, said it was one of the nastiest experiences of her life - worse even than calibration - she thanked God it wasn't introduced until after she volunteered.

Michael explained to me how it works. His answer was a bit TMI. He's clearly very proud of the well-trained neural network he's able to run in the saddle's limited computational resources; he described in great detail all the signals it receives from the probes and electrodes and how it processes that information to decide in real time if an orgasm is imminent.

I asked him how they trained it - his face flushed - he laughed and told me they had a few volunteers starting out, but now they have plenty of data. He says it just about never gets it wrong. By the time I asked it was too late for me to join in the testing.

Oh, they're starting on my sister now.

Hang in there Ginny. I don't imagine you need to worry about setting it off.

Ben and Seiko set to work on Ginny. They knew she was there for her qualification ordeal, but they weren't supposed to treat her any differently on that account.

This posed a minor dilemma. They'd have to work with her in the future, so they couldn't be too rough, but they had to demonstrate their professionalism, show that they meant business, try to instill the same sense of helplessness and inevitability. Ben gave Ginny a quick looking over, trying to decide how to proceed, wondering if she'd remember.

Oh my God, Ginny recalled. I laid a stripe on you at the Forge!

Liz had inveigled her, she didn't need much persuading, to join her at the Forge for a fundraiser in support of a local transgender support house - that's where she'd met him, tied to a pole, just a few weeks ago.

The very same Ben - except that time he stood with his wrists bound safely behind him, his elbows and shoulders cinched, his legs roped securely at his thighs and ankles.

Apart from the rope and a nasty looking but not actually all that uncomfortable chastity device locked over his cock and balls Ben posed naked, the smooth muscle-delineated surface of his torso immobilized and deliciously accessible. Not altogether different from her own condition at present, she reflected.

A Ben-like manikin stood about two meters to one side; Seiko sat at the sign-up booth on Ben's other side enthusiastically flogging their attraction, shouting 'Make Your Mark for Charity' like a seasoned circus hawker, notwithstanding her residual Japanese accent. They had a decent shot at first place, going by their team's well-colored-in thermometer. Five good, solid welts already crossed Ben's chest.

For fifty dollars you could try to add your own. Sanitary considerations dictated the use of the single-tail provided, though they'd make an exception if you were well-known and got Ben's approval. He gave the nod to Liz's after she dangled it seductively for his inspection.

Liz plopped her money down and Josh, another JenLiz model, scotch-taped a five-centimeter-wide strip of pressure-sensitive paper across the mannikin, right over its nipples, precisely as Liz specified. Josh glanced over at Ben to confirm the location was still available.

You had to make five clean marks in exactly five strokes - no misses allowed. Josh and Seiko would judge whether yours were close enough together to qualify. If you passed - most didn't though they enjoyed trying - you could move over to take your shot - just one - at Ben himself.

Liz took her stance and struck five times, all in one set of sweeps. Seiko had to look really carefully to identify five discrete lines, but they all agreed they'd heard five solid thwacks. Ben stiffened, wincing - Liz had a reputation. But she relinquished her turn, pledged two hundred dollars, put down another fifty and handed Ginny her whip. Ginny was certainly good for a generous bounty, Liz knew, if she passed the qualifier. By the time they walked away to check out the other attractions Ben sported six good, solid welts, one precisely bisecting both his areolae.

Ben and Seiko will slide a wide belt between your back and the pole - there's clearance now that your shoulders aren't pulled back against it. They'll tighten that belt firmly around your belly - you'll be wondering by now just how many electrodes you can possibly accommodate. As they're wrapping you in this torment-corset you'll likely not notice the steel cable descending behind you, the one Ben is about to clip to the rod between your ankles.

You will notice the cable now, as your ankle spreader detaches from the bottom of the pole and the cable pulls it up behind your back, forcing your legs to fold around the lower crossbar. The spreader will go limp, allowing your ankles to come together as you're pulled into a half-hogtie.

With your legs out of the way the extension at the bottom of the pole can be removed and placed in the cart. In the mirror you'll see yourself suspended on a restraining pole which now ends well above the floor - you can be positioned lower as well as higher.

Never mind the jumble of electrical cables dangling from your cuffs and belt - Seiko will tidy them up, all in good time, but before your arms come down for the hogtie's completion you'll be fitted with your chest punishment harness.

Ben stood in front of Ginny, his solid musculature still discreetly evident through his snug knitted bodysuit while she stood more or less naked, shoulders pulled firmly backward to force her breasts lusciously forward - and he remembered, she could be sure. He'd grinned and drawn his finger slowly across his chest from one slightly projecting nipple-bump to the other.

Ben and Seiko exchanged glances, agreeing wordlessly that apart from Ben's acknowledgement their best bet was to play it straight. They'd be as professional as they could be, as they always did, they'd make sure Ginny got the full experience, and at most try for a personal best on timing. Per protocol Seiko moved to the front.

Poor Ginny, you look so uncomfortable - you must hate this. I hope you get through it OK. I'll try to comfort you when we're out of here. What on earth did you do?

Although Ginny wasn't there for a crime, a detail Angie didn't know, there was little doubt that she'd get through it 'OK'. All prisoners do, they have little choice. Ginny couldn't be absolutely certain, though it had been hinted strongly, but all she had to do to pass her 'qualification ordeal' was to not break down completely, which wasn't likely. If she put on a good show that was extra credit.

As it rests in the cart the chest harness looks like an oversized pair of frameless spectacles with lens openings disproportionately small for their spacing - its purpose probably eluded you up until now. Seiko will slide it between your back and the pole and fasten its pole-clamp at nipple height. Ben will take hold of it on the other side and together they'll fold it around your chest. He'll pull the two ends together as Seiko engages the fastener between the rings.

The material is springy; when it's stretched into position it will compress you somewhat, pulling you back to the pole once more. You'll find it fits perfectly - your nipples will be centered in each opening. You couldn't have known that images from the cameras were already being processed as you stood pressed against the pole, providing the measurements used to select the harness placed in your cart. If you're a woman your openings will be bigger, and it will fit even better.

Breasts, oh breasts. Bosoms, busts, boobs, tits. Hooters, knockers, ringers, racks even - an odd term for a woman's chest, Ginny thought. As her legs folded up behind her and her weight settled onto the saddle she knew hers were next on the menu. The springy spectacles with their generous openings beckoned from her cart, ready to enclose her in their loving, terrifying embrace.

Ginny had a complex relationship with her breasts; it wasn't helping that Bev's and Angie's, so similar to hers, presently projected so prominently from their bodies on account of their pinned-back shoulders. With her arms pulled up on either side of her head Ginny's presented less salaciously, but the effect of the six-wide still-naked mammary row on Ed, Three and Five, on Norm too until he disappeared into his sleeve, could hardly be missed, even by Ginny, who tried hard to ignore it.