Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 06: Purgatory

Jen doesn't have to. Three tenses up and begins undulating, slowly at first, then faster, dancing involuntarily to her lead, He knows he's about to come but he hasn't quite cottoned to the consequences. He clamps down on the ball, then widens his mouth in an ear-splitting scream as Jen stands back grinning. He shudders and thrashes as the clamp tightens around his cock - he thinks it's being amputated. He jerks and bucks to the successive shocks, then comes limply to rest as Jen moves on without a look back. She faces Bev.

By the time Bev entered her senior year she'd already written several BDSM-themed stories at Barbara's request. As they concluded their post-session discussion about the physical similarity between Angie, Ginny, and the two of them, Barbara suggested she write a story incorporating that theme, perhaps leaving out Barbara herself.

Bev soon delivered her effort, a lurid tale concluding with three unluckily matched women perfectly balanced in a triple suspension, slowly rotating as their executioner flogged them, then prepared them for strangulation. Barbara enjoyed it thoroughly and rewarded Bev with an extra special thrashing. Bev loved it, especially after it was over and they could laugh about the story over a glass of wine.

So what are you going to do about Bev, who now wriggles uncomfortably in your gaze? You don't have to shove her into the orgasm suppressor - she's already been there, during the preparation phase. You know her quite well - you worked together on a staging of her execution story at JenLiz studios, following details specified in Barbara's will. And you've punished her before, when she volunteered. That was a bit of a joke - you were just as guilty. But this time she's here for a real crime, and more to the point, you really want her to stop driving recklessly and nothing so far seems to have worked. This might. She already looks rather sad, as if she realizes the anxiety she's put her friends through.

You smile kindly, pick up her cable, turn her switch and move on. You'll play it by ear. As you prepare to face number five perhaps you can read her mind - she knows she deserves what's coming, she's grateful to be in your hands now she has no choice in the matter, and she really does intend to change.

Five already looks about as submissive as they come - getting him to may be a stretch. But an experiment is an experiment. Jen may have to enter his mind to pull this off.

What will you do? Chances are you don't have Jen's telepathic capability - you'll have to use more conventional methods.

Don't give up hope. He's uncomfortable, terrified, and astonishingly, he's experiencing some performance anxiety. He's finally figured out that he's expected to rise to the occasion just like everyone else and while the consequences of doing so appear awful he's wondering if failing to come to the table will trigger something even more horrible.

He's also an ordinary, straight male, unmarried, hesitant to masturbate, and doesn't get out that much. There's plenty of pent up sexual energy behind that frightened face. You may not be his fantasy date, dressed the way you are, but you've lots to offer. Look him in the eyes, turn off the ice, let him share your human dignity. Yes, you're free and he's bound, but you won't kill him, and he's really not responsible for anything that happens, you are. You have total control. Yes, your eyes convey, your crime is mundane (though in this matter you'll later learn you're mistaken) but you deserve to be here, you'll suffer appropriately, and you'll be out by lunchtime, though you probably won't be all that hungry. Calm down.

You can tell he's not going to hit the suppressor with eye contact alone. You take his cable and hold it before his eyes. You turn the key and allow the cable to retract. You touch your pad.

As soon as he feels his anal plug expand and start vibrating he relaxes. He knows he can't resist - he need do nothing more. He looks longingly at your body as you engage his sleeve, moving ever so slightly side to side, up and down, beckoning him to ecstasy.

Jen feels a bit sorry for him. She's fed him a bill of goods, seducing him into trusting her - now he's convulsing with agony - she knew it was coming, he didn't. Such is life in the punishment chamber. She turns to Ginny but she's compassionate - she checks in, takes a look in Five's mind. He's properly penitent, ready to accept his punishment, and relieved. He didn't fail.

Ah Ginny, what shall we do with you?

Ginny's watched the interrupted orgasms with rising indignation. She knows she'll erupt for Jen later, to the delight of the other prisoners, the audience behind the glass, and the online audience - she's come to terms with that. Of course she knows about the suppressor but she's not a pain slut, has firm control over her body; she never expected to experience its humiliation herself - that wasn't part of the protocol. That's changed, obviously. Then again, imagining herself on the other side of the leather she can appreciate the usefulness of this tool in her toolbox. Suck it up and let it happen, Ginny - you know you won't be able to prevent it.

You lock eyes with Ginny. This has to be one of the odder situations for a tormentor to find herself in. Ginny hasn't done anything, at least nothing you know about, to deserve the punishment you're bound to inflict, but she's not exactly a volunteer, and soon she'll be a co-worker. You want to be friends, or at least to get along. You want to earn her respect.

The two of you size each other up. Ginny thinks back to the forced orgasms she experienced in the execution chamber. Of course she was angry and terrified, but she had to admit they were awesome otherwise - there's definitely something to be said for coming in bondage. Khalidah does a good job.

Both of you'd just as soon get this over with, and time's a-wastin. These untimely-terminated orgasms have taken longer than anticipated and you're behind schedule - Ginny knows this too. But Ginny doesn't come easily, though she'll try, perhaps too hard, to cooperate. Jen could simply enter her mind and push her over, like she did to Angie, but she won't. Maybe you've learned how to do that, then again maybe you'll make the same decision. Khalidah could touch and fondle her victims - she took full advantage of that privilege. You'll have to do it entirely through your pad. Go ahead, now's your chance. You'll never have a better opportunity to see such resignation on Ginny's face.

Acquiescing to the inevitable, Ginny undulates reluctantly in her bonds, the muscular waves she permits to flow up and down her body readily observable in spite of her enclosing electrode-cuffs. For now it feels pretty nice - it will be better when it's time for the real orgasm, because Jen will stretch that out for four ecstatic minutes, and the end won't be anything like as unpleasant.

One minute passes, and the waves are becoming more intense, Suddenly Ginny convulses, shudders and screams just like everyone else has. She settles back on the saddle, debilitated, subdued, mortified, feeling pretty much exactly as she expected. Yes, she concludes, it works as advertised. It's over.

For Ginny, that is.

Jen's in a hurry. She turns to Norm, ready to turn her key in his lock and get on with it - she doesn't need to give him an interrupted orgasm since he had one during preparation. But that was quite a while ago - he's recovered considerably, and as she turns the key he stares at her overwhelming leather-clad severeness, tenses, bites down on the gag, wriggles for a moment, then screams, jolting up and down in time to the electricity's savage beat.

Turning away Jen wonders how many more times his suppressor will fire before the morning's over. It doesn't matter, she smiles to herself - that's precisely what it's for. She doesn't have to keep count - she can simply look it up before she teases him about it at the studio.

Jen returns to the center and rotates to face her charges, lined up subdued and ready for punishment. She's backed almost to the mirrored wall; even Ed and Norm on poles one and seven can turn the little bit they need to face her. All stare with anxious, frightened anticipation - all except one, who stares with something more like eager anticipation.

Oh, Oh... this is it. I'm going to find out just how much I can really take... just short of permanent damage, Michael said. No secrets now, Jen, Liz, Michael, Khalidah, they'll all know - no more pretending.

Watching Jen in action was the most thrilling part of my previous visit overall, but the calibration haunted my fantasies for weeks afterward. One by one the prisoners shook, twisted, convulsed, grunted, groaned, shrieked and screamed, seemingly at random, over the course of around ten minutes. As the process wound down the grunts and groans became remarkably uniform - Liz explained roughly what was happening and why, not so much how.

I remember asking Michael to explain it to me afterward. His answer made my head spin, but it sure soaked my snatch. I had to volunteer, just to find out what it's like. In a few minutes I'll know...

Everyone's tolerance for pain is different. Perfectly executed punishment creates equal suffering for all who endure it, precisely in accordance with the court-ordered sentence. Of course that's not possible, but individual calibration helps it comes close, especially since there's so much real-time telemetry available.

Along with the internal probes and surface devices streaming volumes of biometric data, there's sound; the gags do not prevent us from screaming when they are not inflated. There's vision. Up-to-date image processing provides a wealth of information not available to the relatively crude system Michael experienced as a convict on pole seven. Even back then it worked, he acknowledged, but it could be vastly improved, so he did that.

Oh God, here it comes. I'm going to get the very best limit-testing Michael knows how to create...

Surprise is crucial. If you know what to expect you can brace for it, but that's not very smart. Better to make an exaggerated response if you can. Michael quickly figured out how to make the calibration game-proof - should you find yourself in Angie's position you'll have no idea what's coming or when. Jen smiles wickedly in the direction of pole two, lifts her pad and kicks off the calibration. Five jerks against his restraints, yelping in surprise.

Oh Michael, oh Jen, you've used me for one experiment already today. What do you have in store for me this time?

I can't see Khalidah watching from the other side of the glass, but I know she's there. I wonder how much she remembers about our dinner date last year.

Neither of us is overtly telepathic, but our minds must be coupled somehow.

Angie's come a long way, Khalidah muses, remembering the question posed so innocently over the Fesenjan.

What was it I asked? That's it, now I remember. "How I would know if I'm a pain slut?"

"We'd have to get you tested by the pain slut certifying agency," Khalidah teased in response. She'd gone on to answer the question respectfully, in considerable detail, after she saw the anxious look on my face.

I laugh at myself now, silently. If there were such an agency the test I'm facing now is surely the one they'd administer.

Wow, I'm about to become a certified pain slut, that is, if I pass. Wonder how that guy on pole seven will come out. I'm sure I've seen him somewhere...

Bev jerks suddenly, twists to one side, lets out a loud grunt. I turn slightly to look at her in the mirror.

So, Bev, I guess you're getting recertifi... ARRG... UGG...

Seiko wheels in a comfortable leather office chair into which Jen settles. She crosses her legs, pad in hand, ready to take a few notes. Calibration is under way, full steam.

Hi Michael! How's your day? Mine's great so far!

Michael jerks to attention, looking vaguely like he's also seen, or in this case, heard a ghost, telepathically.

Michela, is that you? This is new.

Of course Michael uses voice recognition and speech synthesis in his work, sometimes to save typing, sometimes just for amusement, but no algorithm ever communicated with him telepathically before.

Michael's worked hard on and off on the calibration routine for years, initially right after experiencing it himself. He managed to make it far more robust and cheat-proof using conventional heuristic techniques, but more recently he's been applying advanced artificial intelligence methods. You'll find them uncannily, mortifyingly effective if you're unfortunate enough to experience them yourself.

With easy electronic access to world news, to mainstream movies as well as those created for more specialized tastes, to conventional porn with its cornucopia of BDSM material, and to most of the world's literature, supplying his deep neural networks with training material presented no problem, even if some of it had to be paid for. Obtaining ground truth of consumers' responses to that material was more problematical. Consequently a good part of his algorithm's development involved what academe calls 'unsupervised training.'

Fortunately there's considerable telemetry from punishment sessions, improved substantially over the past few years. The new saddles are the best ever in that regard.

AIEEEEEeeee... Ginny howls.

Oh Ginny, I'm so... ARRRGGG, OW OW OW...

Hee, Hee, Hee... They're so much alike!

The year before he became physically ill Michael worked so hard on the calibration that Jen worried about his psychological health - she kept those thoughts to herself while she kept an eye out for him. She could tell the calibration was improving radically; the grunts and groans during its wind-down became more and more eerily uniform, plus she was finding to her delight that it turned up idiosyncratic vulnerabilities with increasing frequency. She could use these to devastating effect, as Bev discovered when she volunteered. She will again today, but right now Michela's in the driver's seat.

ARRRG... ARRRG... ARRRG... Bev twists back and forth, thrashing in her bonds, face contorted, roaring past her gag at the top of her lungs.

Oooiii... that's just over the max I gave her last time she was here. This is such fun!

Jen congratulated Michael whenever she noticed improvements, though she also teased him mercilessly about the amount of time he spent with his 'virtual dominatrix' as she called his developing algorithm. After a while Jen gave her a name, Michela. This was a joke of course - they both knew she was just a set of programs but Michael loved it. He also wondered just how far it could go.

Norm's wondering if something's wrong. It seems like everyone's grunted, howled or shrieked by now, some more than once. A full twenty seconds must have passed and he hasn't felt a thing. Tic, tic, toc... he imagines it's going to be bad.

It's such a hoot to keep Norm waiting. Ready, set... now!

It is bad, really bad. Every muscle in Norm's body contracts fiercely, convulsing him in agony. It takes a second or two for his involuntary outcry to reach full intensity - once it does the collar squeezes his neck, throttling his screaming back to a sputtering gurgle - its automatic response is normally off for the calibration but Michela decided to let it do its thing this time. A second after that the pain stops as suddenly as it started and the collar releases - he gasps with shocked relief, shuddering in his bonds as his muscles relax. God that hurt, Norm thinks as Jen looks his way and notes something on her pad.

It's a little early to push his limits, isn't it? Michael suggests telepathically, wondering if Michela will hear him in return. Were you certain he could handle that?

Naw - he can take quite a bit more. I'll give them all some focused hits and try him again, a little harder.

Clearly hear him she can.

Michael, tell Michela to quit the play-by-play and bugger off - she's driving me crazy..

Why doesn't Jen just tell her to bugger off herself, Michael wonders. Maybe Michela can only hear me?

Dammit, she can hear me just fine - she just doesn't listen. It's up to you to get your creation to behave.

She didn't say 'itself,' Michael observes. He also overhears Michela apologize to Jen politely, gracefully, and without Michael telling her to; promising not to disturb her for the rest of the session. She's growing up fast, he thinks.

Ow... Ed winces to a sharp sting in his right nipple.

Let's see how balanced he is.

Ow... Ed winces again

Within five percent. Still worth a separate coefficient. Unlike Jen, who no longer has to endure it, Michael's amused by Michela's patter, especially when he combines it with the stream of data flowing over his screen.

Norm's not the only one puzzled. While Norm waited with rising anxiety for his first hit, Ed's felt a steady stream of them, none of them making him scream like he's heard from Angie, Ginny or Bev, let alone from Norm, and none of them much like he imagines real punishment should be, nothing like the abrupt painfulness of the orgasm suppressor. The couple of buzzes on his penis were almost pleasant, he thinks, and the hit to his anus was more like an involuntary core exercise.

Still, the effect is eerie, he's finding, as if some invisible intelligence is exploring his body inside and out. He can see that Jen isn't doing the exploring, even though she's taking occasional notes. Now and then she makes him shiver with anticipation just by glancing his way.

I'll work my way up bit by bit with Ed.

UUGG... Ed shudders. He's finding it more painful now, especially as it involves more of his body all at once. Painful enough he's becoming oblivious to his companions, one of whom is reacting with extreme irritation to her pleasure response measurement.

Ahhh... ohhh... Ginny gasps as waves of blissful arousal flow through her body. She's sure she'll be able to avoid coming this time though she's undulating obscenely and she's acutely embarrassed even by that. The paradoxical value of the pleasure tool in the punishment context is not lost on her - she's already thinking about how she'll make use of it. She suspects that Norm's turn at this test hasn't yet arrived.

Wondering about just how Norm's turn is going to go takes her back to the Forge, where Norm squirmed deliciously on the spanking bench, cock caged, the carbon fiber cane landing with a solid snap on his ass when she swung it for the first time under Liz's attentive guidance. Careful, Ginny!

Oh, oh, get a grip... Ginny feels her climax welling up. She remembers the suppressor's inevitable humiliation, and brings herself under control in the nick of time. Close call, she thinks, observing Norm start to squirm with obvious pleasure, perhaps recalling the same scene.

Oooww, Norm's so easy. Jen's going to need very accurate data if she wants him to last four minutes. Michela searches carefully for Norm's pleasure points, taking pains to keep him away from the edge. Norm sighs with delight, not even noticing Ginny's yelps and grunts as her calibration resumes its normal course. Satisfied she's obtained all the information Jen needs, Michela lets Norm slide over the precipice he's been skirting for the last minute.

ARRRGG... Norm bellows as once again he tries to ejaculate against the suppressor's promptly imposed constriction, his body spasming to the sequence of arousal-defeating shocks. Michela doesn't directly control the suppressor itself - that runs autonomously in the saddle, but she certainly factors his response to its punishing stimulus into Norm's database. By now Ginny's back in her own painspace, only dimly aware of what's happening with Norm though she's not surprised. Neither is Jen, who smiles wryly in his direction as he struggles. She takes a few more notes.