Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 06: Purgatory

The thoughts don't help much. Ed squirms helplessly in bondage, eyes pinched tightly closed, the delightful sensations storm-wracking his defenses, for the audiences' delight, for Jen's amusement; she could easily force him come this way but she won't. Time for pain.

UKK...UURGG... Ed convulses once more. He stops resisting, but he knows what she'll do when he gets close to climax - or does he? He has to come in about four minutes, one way or the other, he recognizes. How long has it been?

Not long enough, not yet. Ed's body slumps out of its rigidity, all except for one part. Jen resumes his pleasure-torment.

Having fun, One? I'm channelling my normally well-suppressed inner dominatrix. Just wait...

Ohh... think you'd like to domme? Jen's telepathic voice reverberates in my brain. Maybe I'll teach you, a little. If you do well I'll reward you by giving you what I'm giving Ed, now and then.

Jen alternates pleasure and pain, establishing the cadence with Ed's rate of rise in response to the pain, to his ability to hold out against the pleasure. Four, five sequences already? He's lost count. His body relaxes involuntarily when the ferocious electrical stimulus stops, each time just before he comes.

The unrelenting pleasure resumes. He tenses in defiance. Jen snickers. He's three minutes in. He's never lasted more than thirty five seconds, Jen's noted, and she needs to leave a little time for his orgasm to run its course. She'll start his terminal convulsion in fifteen seconds - he'll certainly be able to resist pleasure that long. Ed's dogged determination lasts the fifteen seconds, no problem. But the end is near. Jen fingers the pad; the response is routine. Ed's body jerks to attention.

UUGG...AAHRG... Ed turns iron-stiff, electro-convulsed into the torpedo Jen's finally ready to launch, to propel all the way to climax. The seconds tick by. He's kept his eyes closed for three and a half minutes - enough of that, Jen decides. It's easy to make a little itch, make him open them. Ed's forced to face his fantasy torment-goddess made real, forced to gaze on Jen's all-powerful leather-covered contours, to look into her eyes.

Give up, you silly man. You didn't seduce me. You didn't ask for this, Ed seems to hear - he must be imagining it, he thinks. You're paying your dues for the crime which you brought you here. This is no crime - you have no choice - I can make a brick come if I want.

That might be an exaggeration, Jen snickers, keeping that thought to herself.

Well, Ed's not a brick, as much as he might want to be one right now. The inevitable happens, right on schedule. The seven-times-started cyclone grows to full force, overwhelming his body, swirling the exploding fragments of his mind into a seething ball of blazing insanity. He can't get much more rigid, convulsed as he already is, but his fingers and toes curl and uncurl frantically as the storm surges to category six. He shudders, jetting himself into his sleeve over and over - as he subsides he wonders if there are genes for climaxing with stimulation from pain alone.

If there are, the Institute with find them, given enough samples to go on. Ed's just supplied another. Jen gives his prostate a final squeeze to make sure there's plenty for them to work with.

Ed's mind coalesces back to normality. His body slumps back to reality. His fantasy goddess returns to her ordinary terrifying self. Tea break's over.

Khalidah, who's been concentrating with the intensity of a Nobel Prize-winning researcher for half an hour, gathering ideas, formulating plans for scenes, also wondering with a tinge of jealousy just what it's like to experience a tightly-bound Jen-orgasm, turns to Liz.

Liz has a feeling she knows what's on Khalidah's mind.

"It's pretty nice, awesome really." Liz smiles dreamily, then frowns. "Though you'd have to work out a deal with Bev, wouldn't you?"

"Well, yes...even if I volunteered." Khalidah frowns, pensively, un-dreamily.

"They replay their battles now?" For now she'd prefer to change the subject.

Liz doesn't reply immediately. It's already been a long morning, she's tired, and she's worried for Jen who's not fully recovered from her sojourn, cartwheels notwithstanding. She'll need a break. Liz hopes she'll leave the chamber for the battle repeats, since she doesn't really have to do anything, but will that give her a long enough rest? Is an intermission possible, she wonders? How would the convicts cope - how long can they be kept in the punishment hogtie without sustaining permanent damage?

Bye bye Angie, see you in a bit - oh right, it's a ball now. I'm taking a break while you-all replay your battles, then I have a surprise for you.

Exhausted as I already am, though I'm starting to recover, I shiver in Jen's thrall. The worst is yet to come, I know, but I'm ready, I think I am, I think I am...

Jen walks briskly to the door I can't see directly. Ginny and Bev jerk to attention.

Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry you have to go through this with Bev all over again. I thought my empathy for my sister was unbounded, but it's clear in my present state it's not - I just want to rest. The almost-but-not-entirely painful rhythmical stimulus all of us seem to be enduring, except Ginny and Bev of course, makes R&R elusive, but I do my best, also realizing that it serves a purpose. I know the importance of movement in bondage, keeping blood flowing, avoiding cramps, but most people probably don't. Anyway, this way I don't have to remember to do it. I'm amazed how long I've held up.

We know a thing or two about human bodies, Angie - you're in good hands.

Is that you, Michela?

Sure is. I can make you a little more comfortable. Jen won't mind.

The gentle flow of liquid into my mouth, the tingling in my rectum, my sudden relaxation...

They can do anything to me, can't they - anything they please. I'm utterly subject to their tiniest whims, I really am. As Bev writhes to Ginny's pleasuring, I feel myself drifting into semi-consciousness. Except this time, my drifting mind remembers, it's not really Ginny pleasuring Bev, just a ghost from the recent past.

Liz glances over at Khalidah, who's watching Bev with obvious affection.

"You're wondering, hoping this session is really going to work, aren't you?"

"I think maybe it will."

Michela thinks so too, but she keeps it to herself. Bev's body bends back and forth in her bonds. Her arousal soars in spite of her exhaustion. Her mind soars too, in curiously simple gratitude for all her friends, especially as she crosses the threshold and the suppressor does not activate. For the second time this morning she thrashes unimpeded in climax, testing every millimeter of her restraints as the audience rustles their appreciation. It didn't trigger, my befuddled brain registers through the swirling mist of her exploding radiance.

"What's with Angie?" Khalidah asks, "she looks like she's fainted." The concern in her face reflects in Liz's.

She's OK - I just thought I'd ease her suffering a little, give her a rest, make sure she has the energy to climax again when we get to her battle's lockup. Wouldn't want to miss that, would we!

Liz gives a little snicker - go Michela, you rock!.

Khalidah looks almost as exhausted as Bev, who's twisting and bending in the motions which previously brought Ginny down, but now simply hurt. Ginny's writhing in pleasure just the same, maybe better since she knows it's just the machine this time, not Bev, and the suppressor appears to be turned off - she might as well enjoy it for what it's worth.

In my soporific meandering Ginny finds her lover at last. She's transported lovingly, to heaven, to unbearable delight, blazing in erotic bliss, oblivious to the cheers we also cannot hear. Even Liz and Khalidah, who can, are transfixed by the ethereal beauty of Ginny's orgasm.

I confess! I helped a little, they hear.

Ginny slumps back, exhausted. She and Bev still have the actual battle to re-endure. For me their battle passes quickly, amalgamated in my anamorphic mental mist with the next two. I'm vaguely aware that my turn is coming, that the session's only half over, in pain-measure at any rate, but I don't care. I feel a fresh infusion flush in, invigorating this time.

My fully revived body jerks painfully to full attention.

Hey Angie, remember me and Jen duking it out in your brain? I won the bet you know. Think we'll just sit back and watch this time.

AAARRRGG... I convulse in the familiar painful lockup. Somehow in my stupor I hadn't noticed that the body maps aren't there, of course. Ginny's locked up all the same, suffering just as painfully as I am, just as before. One by one the twenty-five seconds tick lugubriously by, every moment stretching to eternity, but before I reach fifteen I feel my pain-driven orgasm welling up - the Titans aren't battling over me this time, but Michela's fresh new pathways remain. I know the suppressor's inactive - can I keep my passion-paroxysm alive until the lockup ends?

If I can't it'll be hell...

She won't go anywhere near ten more seconds - I think I step in and help out, Khalidah seems to hear. She smiles.

For eight glorious seconds I thrash in delirious bliss. My tightly restrained movements are microscopically, luxuriously sensuous - the few places where my body's motions aren't so limited, the little strip of flesh between my corset and my breast harness, my face, my flailing fingers and toes, churn feverishly as my climax roars within. My pelvic muscles grip the probes grinding inside me with savage ferocity, squeezing every last gram of pleasure from their rubbery resilience.

It's fading, inevitably - the pain comes rushing back, twice as agonizing. How much longer...

Just two more seconds Angie. Hang in there. What a great show you gave them!

I've no choice but to hang in there, do I?

Nope, you don't!

The curtains, I can just make out their edges' faint shadow, close over the viewing gallery mirrors. Intermission, I suppose. Suddenly Jake lets out a choking gurgle and struggles furiously against his restraining cuffs.

Don't be frightened, Angie, I hear as I feel the anaesthetizing analgesics pour into my mouth and rectum. I just thought Jake should start his intermission with a little more drama. I drift into semi-consciousness.

"Lets stretch our legs."

Liz eases out of her chair. Khalidah seems not to have heard - she's deep in thought. Liz reaches for Khalidah's hand, jerking her out of her trance. "I need a drink, even at these ridiculous prices."

As an official tormentor Liz is welcome in the viewing gallery whenever she wishes to attend, unless of course she's at work on the other side of the glass. Individual guests she brings are also gratis - that's an essential part of volunteer recruiting. But the state's generosity ends abruptly at the edge of the bar.

Khalidah returns to her seat nursing a rather nasty-looking fruit concoction - she prefers not to drink alcohol - while Liz, fortified with a plastic cup of white wine, takes a few minutes to work the room, making a special effort to speak with the few women in attendance. Perhaps JenLiz should take over the refreshment concession, she's thinking. The intermission took her a little by surprise, but seems like a good idea.

I modified all the programs and work instructions, Michela informs her, as the lights flash their warning. The screens indicate that the session will resume in five minutes.

No need to worry about the prisoners, Liz - they'll be fine. I'm taking care of them!

Liz winds up her conversation, a regular out-loud one with a shy, attractive young woman who'd been following her smartly-dressed Dom-ish-looking boyfriend around without speaking until Liz engaged them, and prepares to return to her seat. He'd provided contact information as soon as she nodded her assent, then left them to chat privately. Liz is sure she's seen him somewhere, probably at the Forge. As the curtains open Liz settles in with a smile, happy that Jen's had a little time to rest.

On the far side of the glass Jen's back, ready to resume her responsibilities, punishing though they may be.

Continued (concluded, don't panic!) in part seven