Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 07: Absol

Ginny's in the back behind Jen, Liz is in the middle. Our chauffeur smiles at me as he opens the left door - we've met at the Forge - and helps me in; I'm pretty woozy myself. Glancing out the window as the door closes I see Khalidah standing next to her motorcycle, talking earnestly on her mobile with a troubled frown.

As I settle into the luxurious leather Liz takes my hand. She's already holding Ginny's. She offers congratulations, first to Ginny, then to me. Her expression is as soft now as I expect it's severe in the chamber, though I've only seen Jen's there. But after all, she is Chief Tormentor, Jen's boss, soon to be Ginny's boss also,

"You made it through! Let's get you both rested up. Khalidah's coming by later and we'll have supper together."

The big black car eases from the curb, smoothly, silently. I drift to sleep, feeling sorry for Bev, who I suppose by now is back in her cell to finish her seven day sentence.

I wonder what she'll get for dinner...

It doesn't take the limo long to get to the House of Bondage, where they have to carry me inside.

During dinner Ginny made an offer - if Khalidah, Bev and Jen accepted, she promised she just might forgive them, forever, for the execution scene, for what they did to her sister.

Hey, isn't that last part up to me, I thought to myself, but I kept my mouth shut, and Jen made no mental retort.

They could hardly refuse - whatever her own part in the affair may or may not have been, Jen knew she'd make a fine stand-in for Ginny's late aunt Barbara.

****

"Hello, Khalidah. How are you feeling today?"

"Mmmmph..."

Khalidah struggles a little, testing her bonds. She's naked, save the big red ball gag separating her lips and the reinforced rubber cuffs stretching her arms upward. The generously spaced neoprene coated steel blocks she's standing on aren't attached to the floor, but they're plenty heavy; they won't wobble or move.

Khalidah looks splendid with her legs spread that way - like a work of art on prominent display. She's wearing no ankle cuffs and while she could stand on tiptoe with her legs together she won't; the stud-spangled electrical mat stretched between the blocks sees to that. She doesn't care much for hanging by her wrists.

Yes, strictly speaking Khalidah stands naked, but she is wearing her glorious tattoos. They writhe, swoop, curl over her entire body and they're best enjoyed in their entirety. They really are on prominent display; they're illuminated by meticulously aimed spotlights, one of many amenities to be found in the House of Bondage's dungeon. It's a shame today's audience is so exclusive.

Khalidah squirms, trying to make herself comfortable. She's not alone in that.

"Good morning Bev," Ginny asks, smiling at Bev who's spread-eagled on Khalidah's left. Ginny turns to Khalidah's other side.

"Hi Jen, great to see you looking so chipper today!"

Neither answers though they could; they're not gagged. Ginny wants them to be able to scream, to curse, to beg her for mercy. Their ankles are cuffed and chained to rings set in the floor, spreading them wide like Khalidah, presenting Ginny with fine targets.

Ginny saunters to the side of the room to fetch a cart sporting equipment for the morning's festivities: nitrile gloves, sponges, a bucket with nasty yellow-green fumes wafting over its lip. She swings her whip over her shoulders and wheels the cart over, parking it in front of Khalidah.

Ginny smiles and removes her leather gauntlets with mock ceremony, placeing them on the cart at a prudent distance from the bucket, then picks up one of the nitrile gloves, taking care not to breathe any of the ascending miasma.

"You remember this stuff, Khalidah. You painted something like it all over my backside once. I gather the formula's greatly improved."

She works the nitrile glove methodically over her fingers, smoothing it carefully over her left wrist, stretching it further and further up her arm, then repeats the process on her right.

"I'm taking no chances." Ginny grins as she moves her gauntlets from the cart to a spot on the floor near the wall

Khalidah wouldn't normally stand eye to eye with Ginny, nor would her wrists be lined up on one side with Jen's, on the other with Bev's, secured toward the ceiling by the dungeon's triple-chains, but the blocks supporting her wide-spread ankles are by no coincidence precisely the right size to bring this about. Khalidah turns to her left, then her right, giving each of them a sympathetic nod. She won't be receiving an application of the liquid today, nor will she be whipped. Ginny doesn't want to risk damaging her artwork.

Ginny submerges the sponge in the bucket and gives it a couple of squeezes, saturating it with a copious load of the vile solution.

"Here goes," Ginny laughs as she raises the sponge to Bev's breasts.

Bev shudders, not entirely with fear. Her mind races back to the moment when, bound with Ginny and Angie for their mock execution, she felt that prescient chill, the itchy, tingling feeling evolving as the viscous fluid evaporated from her back and buttocks. She recalls the exquisitely enhanced sting of Khalidah's flogger once the chemicals suffused into the naked flesh between her thighs. She wonders what the improvements will turn out to be.

Jen knows - she's worked with Michela to come up with something suitable for use in the punishment chamber. This whipping's going to be painful, exceedingly painful, but she's endured much worse during her explorations in cyberspace, though she doesn't remember those in detail. She's doing this for Ginny; she just hopes she'll be able to get the glop cleaned off before she has to don her own uniform for tomorrow's chamber session. Michela did say she had an antidote she wanted to try, didn't she?

Khalidah stares at Ginny. Stunning, she thinks. Ginny's proudly modeling her just-completed tormentor's uniform, one Liz helped her design and Jen reviewed. Abandon all hope, ye who face her tomorrow, and hereafter, Khalidah thinks, wincing at the trite allusion she couldn't help popping into her mind, but after all, achieving that feeling of hopelessness and resignation is the tormentor's job, isn't it? At least at the beginning of the session. Yes, Khalidah thinks - she's pretty sure already Ginny's going to excel in her new position.

She'll know for certain in a couple of days, since she'll be facing her again, in the chamber, and not, it turns out, as a volunteer.

Ginny rolls the table away, turns to face her victims, and swings the whip.

SS...SNAP.

The tail cracks a centimeter away from Khalidah's left nipple.

Khalidah winces.

"How does it feel, knowing that in a few days you'll be wrapped in electrical cuffs, impaled on the saddle, watching my fingers hover over the pad, waiting to explode with pain?"

Khalidah doesn't answer, of course.

Jen feels the pain enhancer drying, tingling on her breasts and belly. By now Ginny's generous application is starting to itch madly between her thighs. The stuff is intended, she knows, after all she helped design it, for the most severe impact punishment sessions, not for BDSM. If Ginny really chooses to let go, in a very short time she and Bev will be screaming their heads off, reduced to pathetic blobs of barely-sentient protoplasm. At least there's no audience other than Ginny.

Well, yes - Michael and Michela also, telepathically. They're monitoring their safety remotely - they'll stop Ginny if necessary but Jen hopes they won't have to - Ginny needs catharsis, she needs to get this baggage out once and for all.

Ginny rears back to take aim at Bev. The whip barely grazes her belly.

YEOWWW...

Bev gasps, struggling against the triple-chains, making Khalidah lose her footing for a moment.

OH...MY GOD... Bev stutters. She squirms ferociously as the pain spreads, as the mark across her navel becomes barely visible

Jen's turn now - she won't be taken by surprise.

AEEK...OWWWWWW...

"Better hold still, both of you - you don't want to upset my aim!" Ginny shouts with glee.

SNAP... SNAP!

MMPHHH... MMPHHH!

The sharp impulse Khalidah just received on her right breast hurts plenty though the whip didn't touch her at all. The bitter shock repeats a split second later on her left - the sting lingers, balancing out beautifully as the seconds pass. She'd better hold still too.

Genny's mind flashes back, a year, two maybe. No, not yet two, she reflects, but what a long strange trip it's been!

Decked out in an over-the-top warrior princess outfit borrowed for the occasion, swinging its companion whip with acute self-consciousness, Ginny strode into the finest dungeon at Jen-Liz Studios to confront a scrumptiously pole-bound Bev, who greeted her arrival with obvious excitement. The sight of Bev so helpless, so powerless to prevent her from doing whatever she wanted blazed through her psyche like sunlight on a clear winter day - that's the way she remembered it at any rate.

The intoxicating surge of pure animal vitality which raced through every muscle in her body that evening has subsided somewhat, channelled into a powerful current of disciplined dominance. That evening she could not punish Bev with the whip, not skillfully - not the way she wanted to.

Now she can!

Bev knows it too. That evening Bev left the chamber bitterly disappointed to receive not even a single stroke from Ginny, who reminded her so much of her dear friend and recreational torturer, Ginny's aunt Barbara.

She won't be disappointed today! Terrified, she stares at Ginny, eyes begging for mercy, the agonizing sting still radiating from her belly. She knows, pain slut though she may be, that a proper whipping now, prepared the way she is, will be more than she can bear. Not that she doesn't also feel the familiar excitement, feel Barbara's sadistic affection flowing through Ginny's eyes...

That warrior princess outfit was pretty cool, really... Bev recalls. Ginny recalls it too, glancing at the dungeon's side mirrors, giving her new uniform a quick evaluation. The black anodized spun aluminum breast caps wouldn't fly in the chamber but she's allowed her uniform's leather to dip further into her cleavage than Jen's does, adjusting the bustier to emphasize her professional power-women's lithe curvature, and she's toned down the boots. It's work clothing, after all, and she's going to give her new job her best.

Jen knows she can bear the worst Ginny's likely to deliver but she'd rather not - she will if she has to. She knows how much she reminds Ginny of Barbara. She knows that Ginny harbors lingering anger; she still resents how she perceived Barbara treated her family when she was growing up, she's still indignant over the humiliating, terrifying execution scene Barbara and Bev conspired to create for her and worse yet, for her sister. Never mind that Barbara helped keep her family afloat, paid for her schooling, left both her nieces a comfortable nest egg, and knew each of them far better than they knew themselves.

So Jen will stand in for Barbara and take whatever Ginny needs to deal out.

Truth be told, Jen downplayed the effectiveness of the punishment syrup when she suggested Ginny use it for this session. She's pretty sure Ginny will figure it out in time to prevent serious damage to their friendships.

Bev's imploring, frightened look helps.

Ha, finally got to you, haven't I!

Bev was once a good friend; she will be again, Ginny decides. She won't brutalize her. She'll give her exactly the licking they both need to make the occasion thoroughly memorable. Ginny cracks the whip twice, with only psychological impact, and dances.

Swirling, leaping inside the dungeon's mirrored walls, she revels in her being, her body, her raw life-energy - this time she doesn't have to imagine the whip in her hands!

She swings her arms fiercely, gyrating and whooping with delight, then stills her strong body. She rears back, surges forward in an explosive lunge, cracks the whip with abandon, with perfect control, in every direction her spirit takes her.

And every now and then as she dances, she flicks the tip toward Bev, just grazing her skin.
AIEEE...

Jen's not spared - she gets the same treatment, just a little harder. Jen's pleased Ginny's developed such skill, so quickly. Her admiration doesn't make each contact sting any less.

OW, OW, OWWW...

Ginny grins.

Jen doesn't grin.

Bev groans, her expression inscrutable.

Jeez, this hurts...

Bev struggles against the cuffs spreading her body so defenselessly for Ginny's pleasure.

Spared the whipping, Khalidah feels for Jen, and especially for Bev, seeing them squirming in precisely modulated anguish while Ginny cavorts around the floor. Meanwhile Khalidah's experiencing something completely different.

For every swat her neighbors endure the whip snaps thrice, just a centimeter from Khalidah's clit. She knows what Ginny's up to; she's brought clients to climax this way herself - Ginny's aunt Barbara taught her how. And though she's trying not to, she's getting closer and closer...

"Arrrggg..." Bev's groaning drops an octave in pitch. Alongside the throbbing pain she senses a familiar warmth welling up inside. Oh-oh...better not...

Not so different after all.

Bev's on the cliff too - Khalidah can see it in her eyes.

For twenty minutes Ginny gyrates with glee, cranking up Jen's agony as her estimate of what she can take increases; with equal precision she holds Bev and Khalidah on the edge without sending either of them over.

Take that, Barbara, Ginny gloats, her long dark hair swirling each time the whip flies out. Jen's body shudders satisfyingly. Ginny knows exactly how hard she's fighting the biological imperative to escape, fighting to keep still. Her only hope to avoid searing agony is to let Ginny's aim remain true. The glorious balm of forgiveness floods Ginny's being; she delivers her final strokes and winds up her dance.

Neither Bev nor Khalidah quite came - just as Ginny intended. Bev's frustrated, Khalidah's relieved, Jen's just glad it's over. Since she can read Ginny's mind, she knows, she's delighted; Ginny's achieved resolution, finally. But anyone could tell - the radiant glow from Ginny's face says it all.

Ginny heads for the door.

Bev's frustration soars.

Fortunately for Bev, Ginny doesn't take long to return, wheeling in a fresh cart holding sponges and towels, a different bucket of fluid, two double-pronged forced-orgasm belts and one intricately-decorated silver box. She positions the cart next to Jen and once more removes her gauntlets.

With repeated ceremony she slides a clean set of nitrile gloves over her wrists again, up her arms, over her leather sleeves.

"Don't want to stain my new uniform," she mutters, smiling at Jen. She dips the sponge into the bucket and begins wiping Jen's voluptuous breasts, squeezing them gently as she goes.

Oh, the warm, tingling delight Jen feels as the liquid calms the lingering throb, dissolving the punishment fluid's residue.

Good stuff, aye? Michela inquires telepathically. Jen sighs thankfully in reply.

Ginny looks her squarely in the eyes - they lock their gaze.

"I forgive you, Aunt Barbara, for all I thought you did to my parents, my family, my sister, or to me. Thank you for helping us, for helping me get to this place!

"And Jen, I forgive you too. I'm so glad I'll be working with you!"

Jen smiles, her mouth starts to open...

"Shhhh...don't answer, just let me finish cleaning you!"

Jen's body tingles with pleasure as Ginny sponges her down and wipes her off, slowly, sensuously. She kneels to wash her feet, sealing her forgiveness. She mops the floor with the towel and tosses it into the corner, then rises to join eyes with Jen once again.

"Thank you, Jen."

Jen smiles back, eyes radiant with affection.

"Thank you, Ginny."

Two bodies over Bev continues to throb with fire, continues to squirm with pain-induced arousal as Ginny ministers to Jen, but Ginny knows exactly how long she can afford to take, hurrying over to Bev just as she's about to slide over the top.

"DO NOT COME!" Ginny commands

The imperious command Bev's heard so many times before brings her under control as Ginny sponges her down without further delay, terminating the impetus.

"Don't worry, you'll get to come soon," Ginny laughs, nodding toward the cart as she completes Bev's toweling off, washing her feet as she did Jen's. She rises and smiles.

"I forgive you, Bev. Let's be friends, like we were before. I so enjoyed our tour through India! And stop driving like a nut - I don't want to lose you again."

Ginny positions the cart between Bev and Khalidah.

Looking straight into Khalidah's eyes, possible today since she's on the blocks, Ginny laughs.

"I forgive you too, Khalidah, even for flogging me." Ginny removes Khalidah's gag and plops it on the cart, then opens the silver box, exposing the silver-filigreed bronze collar inside.

"But we're not done, are we. Isn't the collar beautiful! Such an elegant way to die...you won't of course, but you could pretend."

With an ominous click Ginny closes the collar around Khalidah's neck, leaving its long plastic activation tube dangling between her shoulder blades.

Turning to Bev she takes the first of the orgasm belts and lubricates its prongs with affection along with a generous quantity of pleasure-grease.

"Don't you dare come while I'm putting this on - don't spoil the fun!"

Ginny eases the belt's projections into Bev as carefully as she can, while Bev exerts her self-discipline to the max. Once the belt's successfully installed and cinched tightly around Bev's crotch Ginny plugs Khalidah's collar-tube into a receptacle at its rear.

"So, Khalidah - you know this drill. When Bev comes, as I'm sure she will, the collar will close around your neck. Your unconscious body will be moved to the police wagon waiting outside for you, waiting to take you to your cell. You'll wake up there, and in a couple of days I'll see you in the chamber. Maybe I'll make you wish you had died today!

"And don't waste any energy repenting the execution scene while I'm punishing you. I've already forgiven you for that. Save it to atone for the real crime landing you there!"

Ginny moves over to face Jen, glancing back at Khalidah for one parting comment.

"Oh, and don't feel left out not getting an orgasm today - You'll be coming for me whether you like it or not, on your punishment pole. You'll have Bev's permission - she'll be there, in the gallery - she's never enjoyed a session on that side of the glass!"

Ginny greases Jen's belt thoroughly, then presses it up between her spread thighs - no need to be so careful this time. Jen grunts but holds steady as Ginny maneuvers it into place and buckles it tightly about her glorious abs and obliques. They exchange a friendly smile as Ginny turns toward the exit.

"Suffer pretty, you two. See you soon, Khalidah." She gives her leather-covered ass a parting wiggle as she passes through; the door clunks behind her.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes pass. Bev and Khalidah exchange lover's glances, wondering how much longer they're going to be kept waiting.

"I'm sorry you're going to have to go through that," Bev murmurs. "It's worse than anything you ever made me endure - then again perhaps I shouldn't tell you that!"

"I'll be OK, I might even have volunteered if that bit of history hadn't come to light," Khalidah replies with a thoughtful frown.

Another minute goes by.

"Urk..."

"Urk..."

Bev and Jen jerk to attention as their belts spring to life; in short order they're undulating sinuously in their bonds, but Bev's puzzled. She thought she'd come in seconds - her belt's been busy for more than two minutes now. She's soaring, but not even near the edge.