Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 11: The Tour

"I expect you'll see her in court before long," Ginny whispered to Jillian.

I sensed Ginny trying to suss out Jillian's dreamy look. Does she get off on sentencing them, does she wish she were here herself, or is it a little of both, they're both probably wondering.

"Mind yourself," my sister hissed in my ear, finger in her pocket. I jerked, just like the woman in the frame, except my harness didn't let my breasts bounce quite as much.

Tani continued with her inspection while Kalisha extolled the cool features of the equipment in the room: the speed with which inmates can be immobilized, the overwhelming power of the positioning motors in the frame, the resolution of the internal video. Tani showed us one of the expanding rings, a 'pear,' she called it, though it looked nothing like a pear to me. I was amazed at how it changed from a small cylinder to a large open tube when Kalisha rotated the key a few times before handing it back.

"Want to try it," Tani asked, handing it to me. I blushed and twisted the key around and around, but I knew precisely what she was really asking. Ginny convulsed me again.

Before we moved on, Kalisha circled to the front of the frame to face the high-tech-immobilized woman, who hung her head sheepishly in recognition. Kalisha said nothing, but her meaning was clear. What happens in this place is way beyond anything she's experienced at the Lair. There's no going back now.

But we needed to get on, that was also clear when Kalisha glanced at the clock and motioned us to the door.

"We'd better get over to flagellation. One's starting soon, and I want you to see the preparations from underneath."

As we made our way through another maze of corridors and down a flight of stairs I was wondering just what preparations for flagellation could possibly best be seen from underneath, and thinking I was just happy Kalisha didn't have us view inspection that way.

We reached the bottom quickly; the ceiling height on this floor was lower than I'd have expected to see even in a house, let alone an institution, maybe only seven feet or a little more, which made it seriously spooky.

The guard who met us at the flagellation undercroft introduced herself as Veronique. She was shorter than any of us by a considerable margin, about Khalidah's and Chrissy's height, but the guards' uniform was remarkably adept at enhancing the authoritarian appeal of any body it enclosed, and Veronique had plenty of appeal to work with.

Friendliness too.I couldn't get over how friendly, in spite of her dolorous duties, she, indeed everyone here, seemed to be, severe appearances notwithstanding. Then again, perhaps their duties accounted for their cheerfulness, at least partly. It probably wasn't the pay. And would they be as friendly if I were here as an inmate? Perhaps not.

Ginny smiled as I let out an urk and doubled over. No one else, not even Veronique, seemed even to notice, though as I looked down I couldn't help observing the numbered rectangles painted on the floor. Away they marched: one, two, three, and beyond those, I supposed, four and five, though four's label was hidden by a fully retracted scissor-lift.

As soon as I recovered enough from Ginny's electrical assault to look upward I beheld, almost directly above me, three spread-eagled women floating prostrate in a large gap in the ceiling, their silhouettes perfectly aligned above each of the first three rectangles. They couldn't see us through the hoods covering their heads, but otherwise, they were to all appearances naked. The two closest to me were almost motionless, resigned to their fate perhaps, but the third was squirming frantically, trying in vain to escape the nearly invisible plastic sheets between which her body was freshly trapped.

"They usually stop struggling after a couple of minutes," Veronique explained. "Once the top film goes over and the air is extracted it's just too exhausting to keep it up."

As if on cue the third woman relaxed into stillness. Observing some anxiety on our part, Veronique assured us that they could still breathe just fine, through tubes leading to their hoods.

"It's easy to get them going again, at least for a few seconds," she continued, grinning as she reached up to tap the pubic bulge of the woman stretched out over rectangle one, who responded with a soft keening cry, bucking and wriggling in her barely visible polymeric bondage.

"She's wearing a clitoral anvil--that's why they're bulging a little more than you'd expect. It transmits impacts incredibly efficiently."

I urked with involuntary efficiency too. Ginny grinned.

Veronique tapped numbers two and three on her way to the supply cabinet, eliciting predictably similar results. I watched as she opened a drawer marked 34C, took out a sealed plastic bag, and set it down on the scissor-lift. Above it the fourth film stretched, glowing with iridescent luminescence from the light in the room above.

"Feel free to tap them now and then if you like, but keep away from the lift until I tell you it's safe," she chirruped. "You can watch what's happening upstairs on those monitors," she added, pointing to a row of screens to the side. On one I could see the backs and buttocks of the three women above us. On another, the next inmate facing flagellation stood facing sheet number four, spread-eagled by wrist and ankle bars, head hooded, arms stretched upward by a cable to the ceiling. I wondered what she must be feeling, standing there, helpless, wondering what happens next. How did she react, seeing the others already encapsulated, when she entered? Did she try to run?

"If you look carefully," Veronique suggested, "you'll see a cable coming down from the ceiling above station five, reaching over to the door. The guard who's bringing them in will attach that to inmate five before the door opens, and she'll be towed into position."

I squinted at the screen and finally figured out that the cable passed outside the room through a small gap between the door panels.

"It's relentless, quite an experience."

Huh?

"I helped iron out the kinks when we were starting up."

Veronique climbed aboard the lift and lay down on her back, then touched a button on her control pad. A grid of laser beams flashed above where she lay, distracting me momentarily from the screen showing the huge pair of padded tongs swinging down from the ceiling of the chamber above us. A muffled shriek brought my attention back. I watched on the monitor, eyes wide, as the tongs gripped and lifted the woman standing before sheet four, the cables on her wrist and ankle spreaders retracting to rotate her to horizontal as the tongs moved forward and lowered her toward the stretched film.

Once she was hovering about a foot above the film the tongs opened, releasing her. Suddenly the front of her body sprang into view, directly over Veronique, floating in mid-air, the film rendered clear where it supported her body but still translucent all around her, neatly framing her nakedness as she bounced up and down after her final drop. Veronique turned on her side to face us.

"The film's covered in sensation-enhancing grease. That's what makes it hazy, but it becomes clear when it contacts skin, or the second film."

Thanks, Veronique, for that clarification, I thought, then doubled over in a wicked convulsion. As usual, Ginny was grinning, almost as if she knew how much I deserved it.

As soon as the woman's oscillations died down sufficiently Veronique raised the lift until she was lying just underneath her.

"First I'll smooth any wrinkles out of the bottom film and check her anvil. Then I'll fit her breastcaps. After that her top cover goes on," Veronique explained as she got down, or in this instance up, to business.

Despite my experience as a volunteer for corporal punishment at home, the fiendish complexity of this setup was starting to take my breath away. A glance at Jillian was all I needed to know where her imagination was taking her.

To my surprise, Veronique brought the lift down. She climbed off and returned the bag to drawer 34C, taking instead one marked 36D.

"Should have taken both up with me the first time," she apologized with a little laugh. "The guidance isn't always up to par."

Back in position, Veronique smoothed the film over Four's squirming body, easing out several wrinkles, then turned her attention to her pubes.

"I like to make sure the anvil is in just the right place," she informed us in a cheerfully professional tone as her fingers worked their way around the film-covered labia, pressing this way and that as faint whimpering noises emerged from the hood covering her subject's head.

"It's important to make sure it's aligned properly, especially on the ones who don't shave, like this one. Still, you'd be surprised how many do."

Would I? Ginny gave me a sideways glance but didn't double me over that time.

"They're not gagged, as you can tell, and don't worry--we can even supply a little extra oxygen through the breathing tubes if they're about to faint from the intensity."

Satisfied, I gathered, that her subject's anvil would perform its task of transmitting the flagellation band's impacts with full disciplinary efficacy, Veronique turned her attention to her breasts, which were presently somewhat flattened by her supporting film.

"The viewers deserve to receive full value," Veronique continued as she unsealed the bag. "We want the boobs pointing straight forward."

Poor Khalidah, I thought to myself. How did you cope with this indignity? I'll bet you looked great though. I wish I could have been here with you, but I guess then I wouldn't have been able to see you. I like that aspect of our system better.

"Just so you'll know, since Khalidah was here we've split the breastplates in two. Makes it way easier to get the nipples aligned. Getting hers right was really tricky"

She pressed one of the breastcaps into place, then with her other hand touched a vacuum hose to a little bulge at the front of its cup.

"These also help protect against permanent damage."

My knees went wobbly as I watched the woman's defenseless mammary expand, stretching her supporting film, filling up the cup as Veronique guided her nipple expertly into the recess provided for it. Once she was satisfied with the alignment, she waved an ultraviolet light over the cap and removed the hose.

"The UV setting adhesive is great too. It stays slippery until I cure it. So much easier than PSA."

Now glued firmly in place, the cap was all but invisible. The poor woman looked just as naked as before, though with one breast substantially larger than the other, its rosy red nipple locked firmly at attention.

"Quite a sight, that," Veronique laughed, "but I'll fix it right away." She waved us over and invited us to examine the second breastcap before she installed it. I could barely see the tiny air hole right at the tip of the nipple recess, but I guessed that was all it took.

I handed it back and Veronique repeated the process, evening up her subject beautifully. I glanced at the row of sumptuous busts, eight rosy nipples pointing straight down at us, and almost fell over as Ginny shocked me mercilessly. She has a thing for breasts, even though she's mostly straight, and I was sure she was enjoying the sight too. Jillian looked lost in her other world. The sound of Veronique's voice brought us back to planet earth.

"Done with that. Time for her top cover."

As Veronique lowered the lift she directed our attention to the monitors and tapped her control pad. In the room above the robotic mechanism lifted a top sheet from the stack, flipped it, and positioned it over inmate four. Four let out a groan when with a hiss of vacuum the sheets sealed around her body, revealing all her contours, the outline around her turning transparent as the two sheets merged into one. There she floated, suspended in mid-air just like the other three, struggling uselessly against the tough, resilient membranes. Veronique reached up and tapped her anvil. She gave out a little squeal, then relaxed.

"I think this one's into it," Veronique snickered. Number four could have protested through her hood, but she didn't.

We were lucky, it turned out. Normally, Veronique informed us, inmate number five would have arrived while she was preparing number four, but there must have been some delay, so we'd get to see her being brought in without any distractions. On the screen I watched the cable go taut as the double doors opened.

In came Five, struggling against the relentless pull towing her to her chastisement. Her elbows were strapped tightly together behind her, drawing the wrist spreader to which her cable was attached firmly up under her breasts, and her ankles were hobbled, though the chain joining them seemed generously long.

The deliciously uniformed guard following her gave her buttocks a smack and ordered her to stop resisting, to which she swore something I hadn't ever heard before. But she complied, marching reluctantly to the footpads indicating where she was to stand.

"Sorry I can't introduce you right now," Veronique chattered, "but that's Joanie. She's one of my favorites."

I assumed she meant the guard, and I could see why. Tall, muscular, with short, dark hair sneaking out under the edges of her cap, Joanie looked like she could be my favorite Domme too, in uniform, or in leather, it wouldn't matter. Veronique didn't elaborate on just what 'favorite' meant.

Once number five, freshly cooperative, spread her legs and placed her feet on the pads, Joanie snapped a split-rod over the now-tight chain, turning it into another rigid spreader, to which she clipped a cable leading backwards across the floor. At this point her intake cable extended directly up to the ceiling, holding her in position facing sheet number five, which she was eyeing nervously, but I knew she wouldn't be eyeing it much longer. In one motion Joanie released the strap from her elbows and shoved her forward.

As the hapless woman pitched toward the glistening sheet she extended her arms involuntarily to arrest her fall, but her wrist spreader cable retracted at the same time, arresting it for her as it drew the bar up past her breasts and overhead, pulling her back upright, stretching her arms up overhead. Just before she was back to vertical her hood dropped down and hung above her, suspended momentarily by her breathing tube. Joanie reached up and pulled it down over her head, fastened it around her neck, and closed it up.

"I don't get to do that job," Veronique mock-complained. "I'm too short. But this one suits me better anyway, especially with the lift. I can get right up close and personal."

I assumed that the four women floating above us could hear every word she said, even over the whimpering coming from number five. I was wondering what each of them was feeling as they listened to Veronique's banter, but Veronique interrupted my thoughts, directing our attention back to the monitors.

"Watch Joanie fit her anvil."

Joanie slipped on a surgical glove, applied a glob of lubricant to her finger, and with one quick swipe greased the space between five's naked, shaved labia, though they looked to me like they were already quite moist. Was she also 'into it,' invective notwithstanding? Or was it something else?

"The lubricant's sensation-enhancing too."

Oh, my...

Joanie looped a clear plastic band around Five's waist, just above her pelvis. She drew the bag containing the banana-shaped plastic anvil, together with its fastening bands, from her pocket, removed the contents, and dangled the anvil from its top band over Five's pubic mound while she reached between Five's spread legs to grasp its bottom band. She slid the demonic device up and down a couple of times with a brisk sawing motion, easing it between Five's nether lips, nestling its clitoral cavity directly over its target. She secured the top band to Five's pelvic loop, then opened another bag.

Veronique filled us in on what Joanie was about to do next.

"That's her anal plug. It ensures continence, and transmits the punishment band's impact directly to her sphincter."

I held that thought as Joanie lubricated the plug, slid it into place, drew the anvil's crotch strap between her legs and over the plug, and fastened it to her pelvic band in back. She checked the anvil's position, tightened everything up, and trimmed off the free ends of the bands. When she was done I could hardly see any of it.

"You're all set," I heard Joanie call as she gave Five a smart smack on the bum. Veronique didn't need to remind us about the sensation-enhancing grease.

As Five's lusty invective tapered off I wondered if Joanie was calling out completion for her benefit, Veronique's, or both. Either way, Joanie was finished. She turned away and headed to the door. From the corner of my eye I noticed that Veronique had repositioned the lift under station five. She climbed aboard and warned us once again to keep clear. A moment later the safety-interlock laser beams converged above her, but this time I was ready and kept my eyes firmly glued to the monitor as the jaws of discipline swung down. Just as they closed around Five to lift her up Ginny convulsed me yet again.

Five's shapely body bounced into view over Veronique and she went right to work, but we didn't, as it turned out, get to see that part of the process over.

"I've asked Veronique to hold off raising them up for flagellation until we're in the viewing gallery, so we need to hurry," Kalisha instructed us, motioning us impatiently to the door.

Oh, well...

"They'll be leaving by that door too, when they're done, shackled to gurneys, since they'd have trouble walking right away," Veronique also informed us as we turned to follow Kalisha's lead.

My knees were so wobbly I was having trouble walking myself, even without unwelcome assistance delivered from time to time by my sister. Jillian looked pretty disoriented too. Nevertheless, we hurried after Kalisha as best we could, leaving Veronique to finish up with her five squirming charges. I wondered, as I did my best to keep upright, how I would feel, if I were one of those helplessly encapsulated women about to endure a painful flagellation that was, I would just have learned, going to render me temporarily unable to walk.

"Enjoy the rest of your tour," Veronique called as the door closed behind us.

Ginny would, I expected. She was beaming, probably formulating ideas she could put to use once we got home. Massachusetts malefactors beware! I certainly understood why Khalidah declined to join us for this tour. Chrissy might well have enjoyed seeing it all again, but it was a safe bet Khalidah had her tied up for the moment.

Kalisha led us directly across the corridor, into a large elevator, like I'm used to seeing in hospitals. She didn't elaborate on it, but it looked handy for accommodating the gurneys returning inmates to their cells. Given my condition, which Ginny took full advantage of, I was glad to have the ride, even if I had to stand.

We went up two floors, then a short distance along a corridor. Kalisha badged open a door and we entered a steeply sloped theater. Softly thrumming techno music greeted my ears. A fair number of viewers already occupied the first couple of rows,

The aisle ran all the way across the back of the theater, behind the last row of seats, with a rollup on the other side covering what must be a concession booth. The whole setup looked pretty familiar, like the viewing gallery I watched a session from back home--it's what got me to volunteer, eventually. A small mystery, how viewers got in without going through the prison, was solved when a door opened at the far end of the aisle, admitting more nattily-dressed visitors. Kalisha had us wait until they worked their way down to the front and sat down.