Kharon Ch. 07

Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Kharon cried herself to sleep after a particularly severe BDSM session. A client of Jean's Dungeon had caned her breasts. Driven by solitary confinement and monotony, Kharon could get a little human contact by allowing a man to brutally use her breasts. Worse than that, she had to beg him to do it. She even went so far as to volunteer him a free punishment stroke. Well, after all, they did French kiss.

Kharon feels like a slut. Aside from being used, her only contact with the outside world is the bowl of watery soup she is fed every day. Her life is a struggle with the mental torture of solitary confinement and the constant arousal and orgasm denial mechanism. She tries to hold out as long as possible. Usually she can make it three days, maybe four, before trying to accept some sadist's offer of punishment. She wishes that she had a "Sugar Daddy" to spoil her terribly.

Kharon notices that leather is popular. More and more clients want to use a leather belt on a girl's back, shoulders, and feet. Kharon checks the LCD when the red LED comes on, indicating an incoming order to Jean's Dungeon. The flashing red LED indicates an incoming offer, the solid LED means a girl may accept the order's offer. There are a number of offers to the girls. Kharon must compete to find one that she feels confident that she can tolerate. The LCD makes an offer: "Leather Belt to back 10 strokes: increasing penalty strokes for crying out or dropping." Kharon considers this. The recovery time from caning can take a week or more, depending on the number of strokes and the administering client; whereas, the leather belt may recover faster. She understands penalty strokes but fails to imagine what "dropping" refers to.

In prepping Kharon, Jean, the dungeon owner, gives Kharon some advice: "Avoid penalty strokes. They are progressive."

Jean leads Kharon to the punishment room. She is not wearing a wig for this event. Kharon waits standing in the center of the room in the "frisk" position. (This is also known as a Gorean "display position.") Her hands are behind her head and her legs are spread widely apart. Her breasts, underarms, and privates are accessible and available for use or abuse. Of course Kharon is blindfolded.

The paying client enters the room and selects a leather belt. It is four inches wide and four feet long. He removes Kharon's blindfold and shows her the wicked belt. He presses it to her lips. She kisses the belt and thanks him saying: "For me, Sir? Thank You, Sir."

"Does a girl have any questions for me before we begin?" The client asks.

"Yes, Sir. What are the increasing penalty strokes and what is meant by 'dropping' in particular?" She inquires.

"Good questions, girl," he responds. "First, dropping means losing a grip on the overhead ring. Let me lower it into position." He lowers the ring so that Kharon can reach it. She grabs the ring with both hands; she is grateful to stand flatfooted on the floor and not be suspended.

"Second," the client continues, "if you fail to stifle or staunch your scream or fail to hold onto the ring (AKA dropping) for the first offense you get your breasts caned. For the second offense you have your breasts struck with the leather belt. For a third or more offenses, you get pussy kicked. Does a girl understand?"

Kharon stammers: "Yes, Sir."

"I know that you are being kept in solitary confinement, Kharon," the client says. "So, before we get down to the business at hand, let's smooch and make out on the couch. You will be afforded the opportunity to climax and experience an orgasm."

Kharon trembles in anticipation and dread. She seats herself on the couch and remains motionless, hoping to avoid the overarching arousal and the debilitating electric shock from her indwelling intrauterine device. She wonders if the client is aware of her condition. She knows not to ask. Maybe Mistress Jean would want additional money. Kharon stoically endures the client's probing, kissing, and caressing. She still becomes aroused, nears an orgasm, and is shocked. The client notices Kharon's discomfiture with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"I see that you have had some special anal training, girl," her client asks.

"Yes, Sir," she answers.

Her client takes a paper towel and folds it into a two-inch cylinder. He spreads her glorious ass cheeks and is pleased to find no resistance as he shoves the cylinder half way in without lubricant. Kharon utters: "oh, Sir!"

The client goes to the medicine cupboard and locates an IV of A10NS (Alcohol 10% in Normal Saline). He saturates the paper towel plug. He is pleased to see that she keeps her buttocks relaxed. He twists the plug. "Does it hurt, Kharon?" he inquires.

"Yes, Sir," she answers, then adds, "a girl has endured worse without clenching."

"Very good," the paying gentleman comments. "Beg the leather belt.

With the voice of a celestial, heavenly being, Kharon begs: "Sir, please belt me ten times."

"My pleasure," he replies and strikes leaving a red band on her back from her right shoulder to mid back under her left armpit. She convulses and wreathes but manages to hold on to the ring and not cry out or scream in pain.

"One, Sir. Thank You, Sir. Please may a girl have another stroke, pretty please." She implores with a sweet angelic voice devoid of the obvious agony she is enduring.

He strikes again, across the middle of her back.

"Two, Sir. Thank You, Sir. Please may a girl have another stroke." She asks.

"My delight," he answers. "You are charming me, Kharon." He strikes again.

"Three, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl have another stroke, please." She asks.

Wanting to earn a penalty stroke, her gentleman musters all this strength and lays on a stroke. Kharon is crying and drooling as she pulls herself together in this war of wills with her client. She strives to please the man.

"Four, Sir. Thank You, Sir. Please may a girl have another stroke, pretty please with cheese." She implores with a sweet angelic voice totally devoid of the obvious pain she is enduring.

Frustrated, he lays on a savage blow. Kharon screams, then composes herself.

"Five, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl have her penalty stroke and another stroke, please." She asks.

"I was surprised that you cried out, Kharon," he said.

"Your desire is my command, Sir," Kharon pushes her breasts forward for the cane. Her client smiles as he lays on a cane stroke across her bare naked tits. Once done her seizes the leather belt and strikes Kharon across her shoulders and underarms.

"Six, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl have another stroke, please." She asks.

"Nothing pleases me more than to honor a girl's request." He declares and strikes her naked back, which is covered with whelps and wilts.

"Seven, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl another stroke, please." She asks.

"Convince me that you really want two more strokes," her gentleman says.

Kharon answers with the voice of a hopelessly aroused female: "Oh, Sir, this worthless slut begs your strong arm pleasure her with two final strokes. Lay on hard as she desires your use and abuse. Please, pretty please."

The gentleman strikes twice in rapid succession, hoping to dislodge Kharon from the ring. But he fails in the battle off wills. Kharon is able to avoid the vicious, progressive punishment strokes.