Liza's New Life Ch. 04

As I crouched, naked, behind the antique desk in that small shop, the fear of being arrested by the policeman just several feet away pressed on me. I held my breath as I heard him talking to John, the owner, and pushed my hand against myself to keep from peeing, right there. I trembled.

"I'm telling you, Peter," I heard John say, "Gina really loved this when she saw it yesterday. It matches her nightstand perfectly. These tiny drawers are perfect for her weights, and this deeper one could be for her belts or other items."

"Yeah, but she's got too much crap in her bedroom, now." The policeman shook his head.

"Well, if you want to disappoint her..."

"Ah, jeez," he groaned.

"Say, I asked Jess to come by your place later to get those tables and chairs for the party, okay?"

"Yeah, fine. If I'm not there, Gina will be."

Even as scared as I was, my curiosity was peeked, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the person who pronounced the name Gina to rhyme with Vagina; that intrigued me, I can't say why. I placed my hand on top of the desk to steady myself as I slowly rose from the crouched position to peer over the desk. What I hadn't felt before was that my hand was not solidly on the top of the desk, but on a fragile tray that was awkwardly balanced on other items. As I put my weight on it, the tray went flying and crashed to the floor, its noisy contents scattering hither and yon.

Something must have happened, there must have been some sequence of events between the sound of the crash and my finding myself bent over the top of the store counter, naked butt swaying in the air, hands cuffed behind my back, but I can't remember. I could hear John's voice, and the policeman's, and even Sam's, but the words were blended, frantic, and nonsensical to my ears. I couldn't see the argument; a heavy hand in the middle of my back kept me pressed to the counter, my breasts squashed and flattened, my head pushed to one side, my neck strained. I was scared to death and the urgency to pee filled my senses. I had to hold my breath and clamp my thighs together with all my might.

Eventually the voices became distinguishable one from another, their tone and volume more constant, and they took turns, establishing an order to the chaos. I was able to discern finally that John was convincing the policeman that I wasn't a threat to the established order, that Sam and he were responsible for my state of undress, that the necklace was not stolen, and that the handcuffs should be removed.

As order came closer and closer to being completely restored, the pressure on my back was correspondingly decreased, until finally the forceful pinning became but a gentle touch between my shoulder blades. The heavy hand at last tenderly took me by the arm and lifted me from the counter to help me stand. I saw the owner of the handcuffs clearly for the first time. His guilty, remorseful smile and the sincerity in his regard reassured me. I didn't feel afraid anymore.

It was just another instant before all hell broke loose again, however. Among the shouts and wild gestures from the three men hovering close to my naked body, I was able to comprehend at last that the key to the handcuffs would not work. I began to cry, and tremble, and the flow of urine began with no stopping it. The more I peed, the more I sobbed, and the snot ran from my nose. I felt myself a fountain of tears, snot and pee. My three tormentors looked on me with shock and horror. They were stunned to silence.

They seemed long in coming, but paper towels finally appeared and were spread at my feet, wiped along my legs, and pressed to my nose. Sam cleaned my pussy and inner thighs, pushing them roughly apart. John mopped the floor, and the policeman cared for my face. I had never had so many hands on me at once, but all I sensed was a humiliation like none I'd yet experienced since the beginning of this saga, when my husband undressed me in front of Sam and Jake. As shocking as that first exposure was, and the even more humiliating experiences of public nudity and spankings, not even the humiliation of the anklet's promises itself, nothing could prepare me for what was happening now.

A lace tablecloth about the size of a beach towel was finally wrapped around me and fastened with a paperclip. The beautiful necklace was removed from my neck, but the handcuffs remained. Decisions about my immediate future were made and bargains were struck on my behalf: The policeman would take me to his house to be looked after by his sister while he tried to find the correct key. No charges would be brought against me for indecency if I didn't make an issue about the handcuffs and key, and agreed to cooperate until they could be removed. Sam would call Marc and tell him where to find me on his arrival several hours hence.

The policeman led Sam and me through an alley to an electric cart, apparently the "squad car" of this island hamlet. I was anxious to climb aboard and get going, but Sam just stood me up against it, left me there, and pulled Peter aside for a private conversation. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, not at all wanting to catch the eye of some hapless passerby, hoping against hope that this humiliating pose in this not-too-secluded area of town would soon end. When Sam and the policeman returned, Sam gently lifted the lace covering my pussy.

"I won't see you again for a while," Sam said, "So I want to kiss you good-bye, as is our custom."

My eyes grew large at the though of what was about to happen and I looked at Peter, seeing in him now an accomplice to Sam's demands and understanding what their conversation had been about. I had no choice but to agree, because one of my promises was that, if he asked me nicely, Sam was always welcome to kiss me "hello" and "good-bye" on the lips. He knelt to my urine-stained crotch and I spread my feet to allow him room. Embarrassed, I turned my face away from Peter's scrutiny. I felt Sam's lips against mine. His tongue brushed my clitoris on his way inside me, in the fashion of the French. Sam's mouth encircled my pussy, his tongue thrusting and recoiling, taking energy from my heat. I did not want to think about what must have been going through Peter's mind as he watched. I shuddered at the thought of his gaze and the action of Sam's mouth.

The kiss went on as long as it could to still be called a kiss, and then I was put in the passenger seat and driven to Peter's house. It wasn't far, and I gasped at the beautiful structure perched majestically on the side of a hill, overlooking the bay. I couldn't believe this was where a policeman lived. He parked on the street and led me up a well-groomed, landscaped path with a series of granite steps. The door was one of those huge double doors with a knob in the center of each side. The place just reeked of old money.

In the entryway a young woman in her early twenties greeted us, having no doubt observed us coming up the path.

"Peter, I'm so glad you came home early," she said with urgency in her voice after only the quickest recognition of my existence. "I need you to take me to the bathroom, okay? He'll be right back," she addressed me over her shoulder as she dragged him down the hall and out of sight.

I just stood there, wondering what the meaning of that was. I wandered into a large room filled with expensive antiques. Original paintings adorned the walls. 'Hum,' I said to myself, 'a person could get used to something like this real quick.'

A telescope stood in the corner, trained at the bay. I couldn't resist taking a peek. In the distance, which seemed very close, I could see Sam's boat. It looked alone, abandoned. I wondered what they were doing, whether Lynn was now sporting an anklet like mine. I pictured her sitting at the café where we had agreed to meet before all hell broke loose. I imagined that her knees were spread according to Jake's instructions, her pussy dripping from the stares of strangers. I longed to be with them, but the thought that I would soon have these handcuffs off and nestled warmly in Marc's chest gave me cause to smile.

Peter and Gina found me in my happy place.

"Is there anything you need before I go?" Peter asked.

"I'm awfully thirsty."

"Gina, get her a coke, will you?"

Gina went to the kitchen.

"Walk with me to the door," Peter said and led me back to the entry. "You'll be fine. I've told her to take good care of you until I get back... Just one little caution: don't ask any questions about our folks, okay?"

"Your folks?"

"That's right. You'll know what I mean if it comes up."

"What?"

"It's just that she gets a little...distraught...when people talk about our parents, and..."

"What?" I repeated, almost shouting this time.

"Shhh! It's fine. Never mind. Forget I mentioned it. You're perfectly safe. But don't talk about the mainland, either. She doesn't like to hear about it and is content to think everybody lives the way we do."

"Yeah, right," I rolled my eyes and looked at the opulence surrounding me. "Anything else?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Just one more thing: I promised John to bring back his tablecloth."

Peter quickly removed the paper clip and drew the cover from me. I took a quick breath as Gina came around the corner with my coke. I tried to hide behind Peter, but he quickly moved, opened the door and disappeared on the other side. I stared at Gina with the eyes of a trapped animal. There I was naked and handcuffed before this stranger, without the slightest clue what was in store for me.

"I put a straw in it for you, see?" she said, smiling broadly.

"Um, thanks," I said, twisting my body, trying in vain to hide it. "Um, do you have anything I could borrow? To put on?" I'm sure she could sense the agitation in my voice.

"Of course, that's why Peter brought you here. He told me to take care of you, see to your every need. And we certainly can't let you run around like that! You don't even have a belt on for god's sake! Well, we'll get this coke down you, Peter said, and then we'll fix you up. Come on, let's sit down and I'll help you drink your coke."

She took me by the arm and led me back to the living room. At the couch she pulled down on me and we both plopped down together. I lost my balance and fell against the back. With my hands behind me, I couldn't sit up straight. I struggled to sit up, but couldn't. I thought she would help me, but instead she just brought the straw to my lips as I sprawled in that awkward position.

"Here, take a sip," she said.

I was still sucking when she removed the straw from my lips. Coke dribbled down my chin.

"There, that's enough for now," she announced and set the can on the coffee table.

"I'm awfully uncomfortable," I complained. "Could you help me sit up?"

"You're lucky." She looked at me with genuine envy.

"Why do you say that?" I put my legs in the air and rocked my body until I was able to sit upright on the edge of the couch. I figured out how to use my hands in back to balance.

"It must be a special occasion to have the fetters in back."

"Special occasion?" I stammered.

"Is it your birthday?"

"No."

"Hum," she said thoughtfully. "That's the last time I got 'em."

"Got what?"

"Yes, it was last month, on my twenty-first birthday. Oh, it was great! Peter took extra care of me all day. I didn't have to do a single thing for myself! Who takes care of you?"

"I don't..."

"Oh, well, that explains, it then."

"What?"

"Why Peter brought you home. He takes in strays all the time..."

"I'm not a stray."

"There's usually a dog, or a cat around here..."

"Listen, could you please get me something to wear? I feel rather awkward sitting here like this."

"Hey! That's a cute little anklet."

"Thank you. It was a gift."

"Ah, so, somebody does take care of you?"

"I'm perfectly capable..."

"More coke?"

"Yes, please."

She put the straw to my lips and I sucked.

"How come you're not wearing your belt?"

"I don't know what you mean. You're not wearing a belt, either."

"Of course I am, silly. Peter takes care of me; you know that."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you're done with your coke, we'll go downstairs and I'll take care of you. I'll give you one of my belts to wear. I'll take care of you until Peter gets home. Peter said so."

"I need more than a belt..."

"Well, of course, silly, something festive, to go with the fetters. When Peter comes back I'll ask for mine, too. I want fetters!"

"Fetters?"

"Come on, don't be silly."

She helped me up and led me down a wide stairway to the basement.

The room downstairs was huge. Large windows at one end opened up on a beautiful view of the ocean. At the other end was a large entertainment center. Sofas and chairs were placed to take advantage of not only the view and the television, but also surrounded a large pole in the center of the room. It was a modern piece of art, with different shapes and metals, and hooks. Hooks were everywhere on it.

"Okay, I'll put you over here on the pole, then I'll start taking care of you," she said in a cheery voice.

I was still trying to figure out the preposition "on," when I felt a snap at the handcuffs behind me. It was like the pole had reached out and grabbed me. I couldn't move my arms more than a couple inches in any direction.

"What the devil!"

"Isn't that nice? You like that, huh?" Gina said sincerely and cheerfully.

"I'm stuck to this pole!"

"Not stuck, silly."

"Help me get loose! And stop calling me silly!"

A hurt look came over her face and her lips began to quiver. Peter's assurance that I was perfectly safe suddenly rang hollow. I decided that perhaps I'd better try to talk my way out of this.

"I'm sorry, don't cry. I am silly. You're right. I'm just being silly."

She brightened right away. She lifted the hem of her dress to wipe a tear that had welled up and that's when I saw it. The belt she was talking about was underneath her dress. It was a narrow leather belt that had a thick piece of leather extending down the front into her crotch. That's all I could see before she dropped her hem.

"Okay, I forgive you. I should have known you were just being silly again. You're just a big tease, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Okay, let's get you dressed, then."

"Finally," I exclaimed.

Beside one of the over-stuffed chairs facing the pole was an end table with drawers and she started to rummage around in one of them.

"So, your name is pronounced 'Gina,' with a long 'i' as in the word eye?" I asked her as she tried another drawer. I wanted to engage her in friendly conversation, hoping that would help the situation. "That's something new to me. Is it short for Virginia?"

"Well, yes and no." She abandoned her search and turned to face me as she talked, seemingly incapable of doing two things at once. "Have you had your maintenance today?" She changed the subject.

"Maintenance?"

"Yes, silly, your maintenance. Now don't start teasing again!"

"No, I won't tease." I frantically tried to figure out what she was talking about.

"Peter said you needed to be taken care of... Sure, that's why he took your belt off, for maintenance, right? Now it makes sense. You can't just skip a day, you know, and he knew there won't be time later, what with the party and all."

"All I want is to get dressed..."

"Yes, I know. I'm looking for just the right belt for you, but since you haven't had your maintenance, we should do that first. Once you've got your belt on, it's not always convenient to have it taken off, you know."

"What are you talking about?" was all I could mutter in confusion. I pulled at the restraint at my wrists, but to no avail.

"Yes, this should do it," she whispered to herself as she took something from the drawer. "What's your normal weight," she asked as she approached me.

"I weight about a hundred and ten pounds, I guess," I replied hoping she was getting a sense for what size dress to bring me.

"No, not that, silly," she said. "During maintenance, I mean. What weight do you use?"

"What?" was all I could stammer as she knelt in front of me, forced my legs apart, spread my pussy lips, and attached a clamp to my clitoris. "Ouch," I yelled as I felt the pinch. "Stop it! You're hurting me. Please!"

I pulled hard with my wrists to try to break free of the pole. I started to bring my legs together, but that just pricked the sides of my slit against the clamp and it hurt even more, piercing me. I spread my feet apart as wide as I possibly could.

"I know," she said with genuine compassion. "I recon sometimes maintenance can be that way. It's always harder when you've had to miss for some reason, and it sure looks like you haven't been cared for properly, that's for sure."

"Please take it off," I moaned, the searing pain from the initial pinch now settling into a dull, throbbing pain. "Please," I begged.

Gina went to the drawer and came back with a piece of lead about twice the size of her thumb. It had an eyelet on it and she attached it to a hook that dangled from the clamp at my clit. I watched through watery eyes as the weight stretched me and stung me at the base as she released it. It swung between my legs, pulling my clit back and forth to a length I never dreamed possible.

"No, please, no!" I shouted. "It's going to tear me apart. Stop it!"

Then Gina did an extraordinary thing. She stood in front of me, pressed her body against mine, and gently guided my head to rest in the cradle formed by her neck and shoulder. She reached around me in a hug and held me gently, soothingly. She petted my back and made "shushing" sounds as one might make to a child who has just skinned her knee. Indeed, I felt as if a loving parent were comforting me. I cried and ground my face into her shoulder. I shuddered and the weight at the end of the clamp swung wider, sending jolt after jolt of searing pain through my pudenda. I yelped and pleaded.

"There, now, it's alright," she cooed and soothed me, "that's the hard part and it's all done. You're a good girl. Be brave, now, like all good girls. Shhh, shhh..." She continued to hug me and stroke my back between my shoulders.

I couldn't make sense of what was happening to me and stopped trying. My clitoris was on fire and my whole pussy throbbed. The phlegm in my throat piled up and nearly choked me, allowing only plaintive gurgling sounds in place of the screams I intended. I sobbed like a punished child.

Slowly, lovingly, Gina raised my head from her shoulder and moved gently away, making sure I could stand on my own. She wiped my eyes and nose with her hand, and then scurried back to the drawer for two more clamps. My eyes bugged out, a moan of frightened despair escaped my mouth. Gina kissed my forehead.

"It's going to be okay," she said encouragingly. "This is the part I like best."

"No!"

I just as well not have protested, because it made no difference. Gina clamped one nipple, then the other. She worked studiously; making sure her tortuous task was performed just right. The searing pain tore into each of my breasts, now making three the points of fire stinging my body. I blubbered through the snot that filled my nostrils and throat. Tears ran down my cheeks and fell to the floor, making a puddle there. I groaned and moaned to a deaf audience.

Her next trip to the drawer brought the weights to the nipple clamps. Through the throbbing and the pulling I was only obliquely aware that Gina had bent me forward at the waist, making it so the entire breast was pulled downward by the weight, not just the nipple. She helped me hold my head level with my shoulders, even cradled me in that position, again stroking me and saying "shh," and wiping my nose and eyes.

The pain spread from the three points where the clamps dug into my flesh and the weights pulled it taut. My hips ached and my thighs quivered. My ribs felt like they were taking a beating. My back was breaking. My eyesight was beginning to fade, and then in the haze I suddenly saw Peter and heard a shout above my moans. The room grew dark. More pain than I could ever describe shot through me, and then it stopped.