Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 10: Bound

The club offered plenty of suspension opportunities. I hadn't experienced much rope bondage, JenLiz tended more toward high tech. What would it be like to be encased in rope, the fibers caressing me, digging into my body, holding me tight, everyone around watching me struggling in my lascivious airborne dance? Moisture oozed around the strap securing my control probes.

Ginny took out a handkerchief and wiped me off, a little too late.

"My slutty sister has a hard time controlling herself," she apologised to Jessica, who'd already wiped the floor under me before Ginny had a chance. "She's really into this."

"Aren't we all," Jessica replied, smiling broadly as she gave Ginny and her outfit a thorough lookover. She hurried off to get ready for opening, and we headed into the dining room.

++++

Jessica had ordered us a fine dinner. Glancing at the sideboard, I counted three shiny steel warmers, several salads, and a magnificent plate of cheeses. Artisanal breads in baskets framed the cheese plate. A stack of real china plates stood at the end, and the table was set with cloth napkins and metal cutlery. Almost set, that is. Chrissy was just finishing up--her chain hobble must have slowed her down a little. There was wine but Jen suggested going easy. No problem, there were plenty of juices and sparkling waters, as well as hot water for tea and coffee.

I counted seven places, so I guessed we'd be allowed to sit at the table. Kalisha, Khalidah and Ginny sat down immediately, leaving empty chairs between them. Chrissy began preparing Kalisha's plate.

"Bev, you will serve Khalidah," Jen ordered as she took her place at the head of the table. "Angie, you will serve your sister. I will serve myself. The three of you will remain silent unless specifically required to speak, and you are not to drink any wine."

Well, that was clear. It was going to be humiliating to be serving my sister, but what did I expect? I hoped I could remember what she liked, since I'd certainly be punished if I made a mistake. I could see Ginny fingering the remote as I loaded up her plate--I prayed she wouldn't press the button, as I'd surely send the plate flying if she did.

She didn't, and she appeared satisfied with my choices. She sent me back to pour her a glass of wine, and after I delivered that she told me I was free to prepare my own plate. She'd let me know when she needed anything else. Bev's service appeared to satisfy Khalidah also.

We were all hungry, so the meal progressed in relative silence at first, but talk eventually started, and given the participants, it inevitably turned to judicial corporal punishment. Kalisha was particularly curious about the function of tormentors, since the Atlanta process was more automated and didn't require them during the punishment itself, though there was plenty of opportunity to torment the victims during preparation. Khalidah, having experienced this for real, clearly found the conversation uncomfortable and tried with mixed success to steer it to the ethical ramifications. I wondered whether all this was intended to get the three of us naked serving slaves unbearably aroused before we went back into the main part of the club.

From time to time one of our mistresses would ask for something, and the appropriate one of us would jump to it. Dessert was particularly busy, as each of them wanted to try the delicacies one by one, as well as needing coffee and tea. And I'll have to admit, I did find myself getting into serving my sister, childhood memories notwithstanding. The harness and the control probes made me feel very submissive. The desserts were delicious too.

++++

By the time we finished dinner the place was hopping. Jen ordered us to move the leftover food out to the seating area for the club's patrons to enjoy. I looked around, thinking how enticing I must look in my shiny new harness. I wondered how long we'd be allowed to stay.

"One hour tops," Jen insisted, as if she knew what I was thinking, which I knew in fact she did. "I'm tired, and don't forget, the real party is tomorrow. We need our beauty rest."

Jen was our designated driver, so her word carried weight. Ginny fingered my remote to make that clear. She pointed to the one unoccupied spanking bench.

"Get your ass over there before someone else grabs it," Ginny ordered, unclipping my leash. I hurried over as fast as my feet could take me. My crotch strap dug deep into the space between my cheeks as I knelt on the raised platform and folded my body over the bench. I stared at the floor, feeling my hardening nipples press firmly into the smooth black leather. Ginny sauntered over and clipped my wrists to the bench's support posts.

"Spread your knees," she ordered. In seconds she had the bands secured around my thighs, holding me wide open. Clipping my ankles in place would hardly be necessary, but she did it anyway. She passed the bench-belt over the small of my back and buckled it tightly, forcing my ass up and out. My pubic lips were splayed obscenely by the narrow strap still securing my control probes. She tightened that up some more, burying it deeper in my crevices.

"So nice and smooth," Ginny cooed, running her hands over my buttock-cheeks. "Let's see what we can do to fix that." I squirmed in my bonds as I contemplated the smoothness of my ass being corrected.

"You're moving way too much," Ginny reprimanded me with a snicker as she tightened the band across my back one more notch. I winced and braced myself for a smack, but none came. By the time I dared open my eyes my sister was gone.

My bare buttocks faced the seating area, so I couldn't turn my head enough to see what was happening there. Even so, I could take in half the club if I made the effort. Every station I could see was in use, and I didn't see any men at all. Jessica hadn't mentioned it being women only night, but it surely must be. No men would be spanking me. Oh, well, I sighed with relief--I hadn't ever been spanked by a man, not by anyone, in fact, and I really wasn't up for that. All the same, I knew it wouldn't make the slightest difference to the amount of pain I was about to endure.

The bench next to me freed up, and a moment later Kalisha strode briskly over, followed less briskly by Chrissy who still had to contend with her chain hobble. Two minutes more and we mooned the seating area side by side.

Kalisha left, promising she'd be back soon.

"How're you doing, Angie? Isn't this place cool? It's my first time here."

I wasn't gagged, but a tingling in my vagina reminded me that someone back there had my remote. Was I allowed to talk? I wondered what Chrissy's pubes looked like, spread wide open on public display, not filled in by a leather band like mine. Club etiquette meant no touching without permission, but if I were free, would I be able to resist? Would she give me permission, or more to the point, would Kalisha?

Chrissy seemed to sense my thoughts. "There's always tomorrow," she laughed. "Not a lot we can do about it now." She wriggled in her bonds, contradicting that assertion. "I told Kalisha I couldn't believe a simple spanking could possibly compare with the penitentiary's flagellation band."

I wondered that too. Khalidah had done some pretty rough stuff to me, and I'd also been through judicial punishment, though mine was electrical.

"Kalisha told me she couldn't answer that--she hadn't experienced the flagellation band and wasn't about to try it. Since I had, she suggested, the question could be answered."

Our conversation ended when Kalisha sauntered back with a big red ball gag. Chrissy opened her mouth without being asked.

As the ball squeezed past Chrissy's jaw I judged, based on its size, that Kalisha already had an answer in mind.

Kalisha walked behind us, out of my line of sight, and suddenly I felt cool hands running over my exposed cheeks. A powerful tingle in my ass and pussy suggested I'd better keep my mouth shut.

"How smooth, how warm, how tender," Kalisha purred as her hands moved from my buttocks over my straps to caress my back. "I'd love to get you into one of my inspection frames." Khalidah had described, in much less detail than I'd hoped, the humiliating cavity inspection she'd endured at the penitentiary. I shivered, more out of excitement than fear. All my cavities were occupied tonight, except for one, and that surely wouldn't be for long, but maybe someday... I braced myself for a whack.

"Sorry Angie. Ginny gave me permission to fondle you, but no more. By the way, what's it like to be your sister's slave?"

All my repressed childhood anger churned up inside.

"Ginny DOES NOT FUCKING OWN...AARRRGG" My guts exploded in agony.

Ginny appeared out of nowhere, brandishing the remote. She did own me, she reminded me without saying a word. For now, at least.

"Ooo," Ginny smirked a moment later. "Looks like Kalisha's winding up for the pitch!"

SMACK...

MMUuurgg... On the bench beside me Chrissy's body jerked with the blow, then started squirming and wriggling as the pain patently radiated from her ass outward. Kalisha must be very comfortable with her kink, I thought, to use the word 'slave.' Would I ever achieve that degree of self awareness?

"Don't get impatient," my sister teased, not referring to my self awareness. "Your turn's coming. I just have to rustle up some takers. Three whacks a ticket should do it."

Oh my, my sister's selling my ass for drink tickets? Then it sank in. She's the one paying. Am I worth so little?

A little later I discovered that while she was giving drink tickets out to entice club members to whack my ass, they also got a pledge form. A reasonable donation was expected; they could fill in the amount after I received the whacks, based on how much they enjoyed my response.

WHACK...

MMMphh... Chrissy struggled valiantly. It didn't matter how long I had to wait. Neither of us was going anywhere.

I glanced the other way and caught sight of Khalidah, in earnest conversation with a young couple. I recognized the reddened ass--she'd vacated the bench I now occupied. Her play partner looked like a biker, leather chaps and jacket, like I'd seen Khalidah wearing, mostly when she was actually on her bike. They were heading toward one of the Saint Andrew's crosses. How much more was Red-Ass going to suffer, I wondered.

When they reached the cross Biker Buddy took off her jacket. I expected her to stop at that but she kept going. Off came chaps, t-shirt, jeans, which she draped over a folding chair. She hesitated at her underpants, but a brief huddle must have convinced her. Off they came, leaving her completely naked. Red-Ass buckled her wrists and ankles to the cross while Khalidah withdrew to whipping distance and uncoiled her single tail.

"Hold still," I heard her command. "If you move I might injure you."

CRACK.

Aiiik...

Khalidah's whip must have cracked well away from Biker Buddy's body. I knew she wouldn't be taking any chances.

"I said, hold still."

CRACK.

Yiiik...

"No good. We'll need to strap you in place."

Khalidah sent Red-Ass to fetch some straps, and the two of them buckled Biker Buddy's waist to the cross, then added straps above and below her breasts, cinching them together at her sternum.

I sympathized. It took a lot of practice before I could hold still for a Khalidah whipping without being thoroughly bound, and I have to say that's still how I prefer to take them.

CRACK.

YAIIIIIEEE...

Jessica hurried over. Club rules: if a lot of screaming is expected, you have to use a private room, or a gag. Besides, Jessica didn't know Khalidah all that well, and while Biker Buddy looked familiar, Jessica had never seen her on a cross.

"No," Biker Buddy gasped once she caught her breath. "I need to do this. Yes, I know the safe signal. Gag me."

CRACK.

MMMPHHHH...

Khalidah wouldn't go much longer before she cast off her abaya, I anticipated. Red-Ass and Biker Buddy, indeed everyone in the club, were in for a glorious treat!

SMACK.

Oh, right. That's not what I'm here for.

Mmmmphh...

Chrissy bucked and squirmed next to me. How much longer would I be kept waiting like this, strapped to the bench with my bare ass high up in the breeze? Where's Ginny?

WHAM.

ARRGG...MMMMMMUUUURGG...

Warmup over, I suppose. Chrissy's head bounced up and down as she struggled furiously, her body desperate to escape Kalisha's blows even if her mind wasn't.

All that was happening to me was I was getting chilly. I squirmed vigorously, trying to warm myself up.

CRACK.

MMMPHHHH...

Biker Buddy struggled on the cross, held just still enough for Khalidah to work her magic. Khalidah must be getting hot by now. Was Chrissy looking forward to the crowd's appreciation of her masterwork, her glorious tattoo designs covering Khalidah's skin?

WHACK.

MMMUURGG...

Probably not.

Nor would Kalisha be. She certainly thought they were stunning, but she'd had plenty of time to take them in when she'd had their canvas secured in her inspection frame.

WHAM

ARRUUGGUUUURGG...

Tears dripped from Chrissy's forehead. She flared her nostrils, gasping in pain. The answer was starting to emerge I suspected. How much longer before I got to form my own opinion? I struggled against my straps, suddenly fearful to find out.

WHAM

MMMMMMUUUURGG...

"Having fun watching Chrissy get spanked," Ginny asked, appearing out of nowhere while my attention was focused on Chrissy thrashing in agony. The tingling in my ass reminded me that no answer was called for.

Ginny and I are tall, but the woman who stepped out from behind her was even taller. Her eyes scanned my helplessly bound, artfully harnessed body as I strained my head to look up toward her face.

"Angie, this is Lady Dimitrescu. She's one of the club's most ardent supporters." Ginny gave the expensively dressed grand dame leaning over me a tiny curtsey. "If you receive her strokes with proper enthusiasm I'm sure she'll make a generous donation."

I didn't bother wondering if that was her real name, I just shivered under the stern gaze of the elegantly sinister, power-exuding woman. Her fine features, dark red lips and long black hair, almost certainly dyed, brought to mind nothing less than Charles Addams's Morticia. That was her intent, for sure, and one of my fantasies too. I could tell she'd figured that out by then.

"Lady Dimitrescu has accepted three drink tickets."

Ginny handed the woman the three tickets, still attached to one another. I'd receive nine strokes from this extraordinary feminine apparition. The two of them circled out of sight behind me.

WHACK

AIEEEEEEE... OWWWWW...

The smack took me completely by surprise. Khalidah's flogging during the execution scene hardly hurt as much, though it's easy to forget. The DM hurried over.

"Sorry, Jessica," Ginny apologized on my behalf. "Guess I'd better gag her."

Jessica held me up by my chin and looked me square in my eyes. Her smile was stern but friendly--she needed to know the truth.

"Sure," I gasped, panting from the spreading pain. "I can take it. I don't want to be a nuisance."

Was I really being truthful?

"Make me the safe signal," Jessica ordered, and I did so to her satisfaction. In went the ball gag, same size as Chrissy's, but black. I was safely silenced for stroke two.

WHAM

MMRRRRGGGPHH... UUURRRMMM...

Oh my God, how did this not make it into judicial punishment, I wondered, bracing myself for stroke three.

It didn't arrive, not when I was expecting. All the heads I could see except for Ginny's and Chrissy's were turned in Khalidah's direction. There she stood, whip in hand, naked except for the leather thong she wore when she wanted to emphasize her authority as a top. Her olive skin glowed with raw animal prowess. Chrissy's stunningly evocative tattoos shimmered in the club's spotlights. I hoped Biker Buddy appreciated the honor of being whipped by the woman I'd grown to adore since she'd flogged and mock strangled me not much more than a year ago, before I knew anything about BD...

WHACK

MMRRRRGGGPHH... ARRGGMMPH...

"Hang in there, sis," Ginny laughed. "I knew you could take it."

Let's revisit that after the next six, I reflected. Still, my sex throbbed against my presently quiescent control probe just thinking about the gorgeously terrifying woman standing behind me, ready to continue thrashing the devil out of me. I hoped the libidol hadn't worn off--I wouldn't want to embarrass myself by climaxing, and Morticia would surely not approve. Ginny's finger on the remote assured me I needn't worry.

WHACK

ARRRRGGGMMPH...

Somehow I made it through the last five strokes, tears streaming from my face by the time they were over. Lady Dimitrescu knelt down in front of me, grasped my hair and held my head up level with hers.

"Good girl," she smiled as she released my gag and pressed her lips against mine. Our tongues danced together, moving between our mouths as the unexpected, otherworldly osculation continued for what seemed like forever. I writhed on the bench, squirming in my bonds, my loins begging for this woman to consummate the promise of our kiss. Whispering in my ear, she proceeded to stoke my fires to the sky. "Perhaps tomorrow night I'll have you on your knees, locked up in that beautiful harness, with your tongue making magic between my other lips. Maybe then I'll make you writhe in climax, bound so tightly you can hardly move as the orgasm roars through your body."

My excitement soared to heaven. My sister's finger circled the demonic electronic clitoris that could make me explode in agony if my own self discipline fell short.

"That is, if your sister gives you permission."

"Sounds like a plan," Ginny replied. "I'll even give you the remote to guarantee she delivers full satisfaction beforehand."

Guess the whisper wasn't as private as it seemed, nor was our relationship. I braced myself for a demonstration, but she knows just how to keep me on edge.

Lady Dimitrescu replaced my gag and buckled it with perfectly restrained cruelty. "How pretty you look gagged," she purred as she ran her fingers around the ball, smearing the red lipstick residue from my lips onto the black rubber. "I'd better be getting on now. There's quite a line waiting." She turned to Ginny.

"Here's my pledge form."

Ginny smiled when she saw the amount Lady Dimitrescu had inked in, and the two of them disappeared from my line of sight. I got just a minute's rest, then I heard someone new winding up behind me.

SMACK.

MMMMMMPH...

It wasn't nearly as hard as Lady Dimitrescu's final strokes, but I'd had enough time to recover my sensitivity. How long could I bear this? How many tickets did my sister plan to hand out? She didn't bother introducing the next half a dozen women who roasted my ass. Some seemed almost gentle, others walloped me with abandon. I squirmed and struggled, bouncing up and down on the bench, murphing and gurgling into my gag, tears streaming from my face, trying my best to deliver good value as palm after palm landed on my defenseless buttock-cheeks, driving fire through my body, through my mind.

During walloper three Kalisha released Chrissy from her bench. I'd hardly have noticed except as soon as her gag came out she rendered her verdict. It was every bit as painful, she gasped, as Atlanta's judicial punishment. I couldn't comment on Atlanta's, but so far it was definitely as bad as ours, and for me it wasn't over.

After walloper four I had a short break, but Ginny warned me it wasn't over. Number five just hadn't returned from the bathroom yet. As I waited for my chastisement to resume I noticed Biker Buddy was off the cross, back in her underwear, though she hadn't put her jeans and leather back on. Bev had taken her place on the cross, wrists and ankles fastened, but no straps around her body. Bev knew full well how to hold still while Khalidah gave Biker Buddy lessons in the finer points of controlling the whip. Red-Ass hung out for a while watching, then wandered off just as number five finished her ninth whack, a rather tired one, I thought. Maybe she shouldn't have taken three tickets. It didn't take me long after that to learn where Red-Ass had wandered off to.