Queendom 08: Poppetry

"Now, do you feel any strain in your legs? Other than from the rope, of course?"

"No.."

"How about your back, or against the ribs? The harness alright? Is the rope cutting in too deep anywhere..?"

"No sir.."

"Good, good. So let's move on to calibration. You have no clue what I mean, right?! It's alright, it's by design in fact. You will have no worries, when stuck with me, from now on. The less you think, the better. All you have to do, is answer appropriately. And of course, comply without a thought."

'Stuck' with..? From now on..?

You mean this isn't a one and done?!

Elanor had some sense on what he meant. She was blinded, not brain-dead. Thankfully she had gotten used to the stuff on the table, the weird collection, which she understood now to be Ishikawa's tools. And god knows whatever he was constructing all this while. She had a good picture, from the sensations of her skin, the modifications he had done to Bella's initial bondage. Starting with the positioning of her legs, ropes binding her thighs, keeping them parallel to the ground, attached to hook above, much like her main harness. Her shins drooped, feet hovering in the air, thighs forming a near-perfect V. Another simple rope harness was attached to her head, expertly entwined with her long, lush hair, with enough strain on her scalp to emulate being hung from one's skull. Considering the previous experiences, Elanor actually liked this one, for giving ample support to her head, taking away from the neck-strain of prolonged bondage. This is going to be a longer session, she had no doubt. Ishikawa continued.

"You have this aura about you, Poppet. I noticed it the very first time, of a supremely privileged upbringing. A ways of lady-hood instilled in increments, from a very early age. I bet you have classical training in dance. It's too evident in your poise, even right now. What about music? Partial to anything particular?"

As her head nodded no, she was having a hard time listening. This wasn't what she had in mind. And why's he going on about music?

"Well, Poppet. It was koto, for me. The first love, if you may.. It's like the.. Well, it's a kind of harp. My aunt introduced it to me. She played quite well, for someone with no classical training. What interested me however, from the very beginning, was the instrument itself.. It's built, it's tension and balance, its aesthetics.. Her koto was a thing of beauty, more than any tune she ever played, endearingly as those were.."

Elanor didn't hear most of it, her mind still picturing the modified bondage. That V-spread of her thighs, leaving the bare folds obscenely inviting, was the least of her worries. And it wasn't the ropes cutting into her that made her cry out earlier. It was the wooden pegs, almost a dozen, clipped directly to her flesh, that worried her the most. The first one was clipped at a surprisingly sensitive point, where her left breast joined the armpit. Followed by four more, clipped alongside the curvature of her full breast, like an exotic adornment. The rest of the dozen in a single straight line, biting into specific sensitive spots along her toned abdomen, through her underbelly, with the final one hanging from her fleshy left vulvic petal. And to equalize, another dozen mirroring, on the right side.

As she had noted, these wooden pegs were custom-made, ridiculously over-engineered even, for comfort. The rubber sheath covering the teeth ensured the bite itself wasn't painful, but more importantly left little to no mark, apart from slight reddening with prolonged use. Yet whenever he pulled a clip, the peg bit down, sending jolts up her spine. The blindfold seemed to amplify the sensation, since she had no way of anticipating, and nothing to focus but the sounds, and the heightened sensations of her skin. His voice boomed again, the slight echo in the chamber adding to his authoritarian vibe.

"Usually I don't spoil the subs with details. But you are different. What's in you is... Unique. So I'd rather tease it out, through anticipation. It's a shame we lack an audience, you look absolutely stunning. Even the sweat, suits you. What we have for today, its a personal obsession of mine, something I've perfected over the years. In various fetish performances for the Eastern elites, offering up their own women, to watch them writhe in ecstasy, at my fingertips.. To become, and be, that unusual chordophone of mine. The koto of my making, my Kinsen. The Heart-strings of deep desire. Say what you will, they truly had an eye for the intricacies of a craft. That was all so.. so long ago. For now, I'll just have to be content, with an audience of one. So Poppet, ready to be my Kinsen.?"

As he snapped open the blindfold, Elanor shut her eyes on instinct. Thankfully the chamber had remained dimly lit, with the main candelabra right behind her, next to the door. With eyes adjusting, she saw in contrasting highlights, and shadows, what the clergyman couldn't wait to share.

The skull-harness, keeping her head up, made it difficult to look anywhere but straight forward, and out the corner of her vision, she could see in a strategically placed mirror, a blurry clergyman standing back, admiring his handiwork. The large cushioned chair by the equipment table was now directly facing her. And its head-rest and height had been adjusted, along with some strange string-contraptions attached on either sides, with a variety of mini-carabiners hanging by side, making it look like that weird salon-chair, the new-fashion trend all the noble-maids were speaking of lately. Either that, or an elaborate torture device, she couldn't tell. And around it, on the walls, there were a number of strings hanging down from specifically mounted hooks, almost a couple dozen, all leading her way.

Wait, those aren't just hooks.. They almost looked like miniature pulleys. This is a lot of work, Ishikawa! Only the truly indulgent would put in such care. Or the deeply perverted. No, it isn't mere perversion. Such perfection had no place in perversion, I don't think. I hope not. I'm impressed!

And a little worried.

Elanor didn't have to look down, to realize all the strings were clipped to the two dozen wooden pegs biting into her plump flesh. There were two kind of strings. The processed jute threads she had seen earlier, two dozen or more, all angled upwards, hooked around pulleys above her eye-level, and much finer black threads, almost invisible in the dim light, all going the other way down, to pulleys adjacent to her waistline. Forming an intricate web around her. From her perspective, much like what she imagined a spider's to be, waiting patiently at the center of its trap. The warmth of his audible exhale from behind, broke all illusions. She wasn't the spider, but a quaint prey, a trapped tiny moth. Or to him, a fresh meal!

"Now Poppet, tell me when it starts to hurt, okay. Your actual limits, that is."

He said, now standing between her and the chair, his right fingers gripping a string, pulling on it gently. Elanor felt the pressure underneath the curvature of her left breast, like a soft loving pinch, stretching her skin. Ishikawa continued to walk back, as her reached the salon-chair, slowly increasing the pull.

"Mnghhh...zz"

Elanor let out an almost purr, at what she felt like her limit. It wasn't a typical pain, yet it was. The bite itself was soft, like pinching one's cheeks, but the stretch on the flesh was very straining. Ishikawa looked happy.

"That's good, Poppet! Means you have pretty high pain tolerance. May be we can skip a few steps sooner."

He said easing back into the chair, having a clear view of her exposed state. He slipped on a pair of goggles, that Elanor immediately recognised. Must be one of those trick glasses, to safe-guard my identity. It probably has a tricky focus-point, blurring the vision on objects too close. Still, its a good thing he never looks directly at my face so far. Bella seemed to have prepared him well. Yet his remarks on pain-tolerance made no sense to her. What pain? So far all you did is pinch..

"OOUCH!"

Elanor yelped, as her whole body felt the jolt. What the hell was that?! It happened so quick that it's origin point didn't even register properly. Was that him.?

The Queen looked at him, astounded, as the clergyman sat there still. His hands.. No, they weren't pulling the string. But I felt it. Did I imagine it.? Ouch!

"eeeaaaaAARRRGHGG!!"

That hurts, that really burns. Elanor strained helplessly, as her spine tightened, the first of her tears brimming, clenching her teeth, absolutely confused. Out the corner of her vision she noted Ishikawa's left index finger. At how the pain on her right bosom subsided, as he unclenched his left fist.

As her vision adjusted through the tear-drop, the shine in his left index finger caught her attention. Ishikawa didn't wear rings. What the hell.?! Squinting her eyes, she noticed in the highlights, a thin black thread clipped to its edge, the thread running down the sides, alongside a couple similar threads, looking like some sort of string instrument, running up the wall to the main pulley, then traveling her way, losing out of focus, somewhere near her right breast. You wretched man, with your fingers again..! Those irresistible mystical fingers..!

"Wow, you sound well-calibrated dear.."

What was it he said? Elanor couldn't help, but ask.

"This is the Kinshen?!"

"Kinsen, Poppet.. And not just this. You are.. the Kinsen. My experiment in music. The strings of desire.."

Ishikawa chuckled, as he adjusted a few side-gears, dripping oil or something to the few pulleys bu his arm-rest. And Elanor noticed to her trepidation, it wasn't just the one ring. These were a bunch, hanging from each side, of differing diameters. Enough to allocate two for each fingers, roughly. The smaller ones were finger caps, covering the tip of each finger, allowing for a larger degree of manipulation, which she presumed were meant for the jute strings, which largely pinched and pulled.

The larger, silver rings were meant for the middle knuckle of each finger, meant to bite into her flesh at full-force, as she remembered the over-engineered spring in the wooden peg do. What sort of mind settles for such disturbing fetish as their workshop.?! Well, I'm certainly in no place to judge. Not hanging here, like this.

She realized now, that the over-engineering probably wasn't to ensure comfort, but to emphasize pain. The last thing Ishikawa wanted was to desensitize her. He preferred his pet appreciating the pain, the right degree of pain, the moment of his choosing. Did I just address myself as his pet?!

Ishikawa spoke, his voice firm and focused, walking up to her.

"I hear you find it distasteful, addressing your dominant by her rightful name. That you hate having to call her Mistress.?"

Didn't he get the news? I myself made amends, you fool. That I shall address Mistress properly from now on. It is my necessity, this whole thing working.. Elanor wanted to scream back at him, mainly out of frustration from the painful pinching, but she chose to node in silence.

"Well I don't really care how you two treat each other, but in this room, I set the rules. And you may love calling yourself Demura, but in here, you are my Poppet! You'll answer to Poppet, and you'll answer quick, short and right! If you fail in any count, pain will put you in place. Your rightful place."

Ishikawa kept his demeanor, pretending to check the ropes, making sure her skin has enough room to breath, avoiding eye-contact even with the goggles on. He seemed truly concerned, of not slipping up, and finding her identity. It wasn't the complexity of the equipment, but the proximity to his skin, that truly concerned her. That feeling of raw masculine heat, breezing into her bare skin. Without the ropes even, she knew she'd feel as helpless in his presence. The mark he made on her psyche in their very first meeting. She may be free to mock and scoff from afar, but this close.. God, am I wet?!

Ishikawa could sense the quickly receding conflict in her. He preferred her to remain conflicted. The tension makes it so much more fertile. He said.

"Now, during the task, give it your all. For every job well done, my right will reward you. And for every mess made, my left will punish. But don't worry, Poppet won't feel anything but pleasure. That's the thing with sluts, they take it all. The kiss, the cuddle, the swat.. The pinch, the pounce and pounding. They take it all the same. And take from it, only pleasure. You'll too. By the time we're done, I could pierce those tits and all you do will be moan. To the heavens..!!"

"aaaaAAAAHHHH..!! ..nnngghh.. ahh.. ahh.."

What was that? Elanor felt her whole world shaken. He touched me, well he didn't.. But that caress, with his cold fingers..? No, it wasn't a finger. It was a breeze. A nice cold targeted breeze, right under-side her ear-folds.. Nora..! Did you just about cum with him blowing a flying kiss your way.?! From that old creep..?? Get a grip, girl..!

The clergyman smiled, enjoying her inner turmoil. And it didn't take much skill. When a girl is mad, you can just tell.

"Is it just Mistress, that you hate to utter? Or do you hate titles in general?! Well, I have the perfect solution, one that respects your boundary, and serves my plans. You won't have to call me by a title. You won't be calling, in fact. Period."

He adjusted her head-gear, making sure her throat isn't blocked, free to breath, speak, even scream.

"Voice should be made a luxury, one you can't afford. So the rule is, from now on, you are to be a subservient puppet to whoever calls you by the name. Whenever you are out as 'Demura', that is. Couldn't you have come up with a simpler name, girl? Like Lenne, or Ella. It's a hard one to pronounce, with my accent. Well, that's no bother anymore."

Like hell, I will..?! As if you'll be around to keep check?

She scoffed inside. Ishikawa said, in a deeper voice.

"If it isn't clear, I'm asking, do you consent to the terms. Think it through, and answer what you think you should. I'll aid with punishments, till you find the right one."

As her eyes smiled, Elanor tightened her lips. She knew what to say. This old man isn't such a puzzle after all.

"Poppet complies."

"A bright one, ain't you?! We'll stick with pleasure for now, but trust me. In the extremes, it makes little difference. You might think of them as sides of the same coin. Pleasure and pain. But you'll see when I'm done, that they are not mere sides, but the same point. Regardless the way your lips curve, it will all feel the same to you. With your senses overwhelmed, your capacity to thought depleted, that core of yours will submit. They all do, Poppet. They all do.."

Ishikawa adjusted her pegs, after judging her pain-threshold, adding two more pegs to each of her under-thighs, her soft skin trembling all the while. Walking back, he cranked a lever by the surveillance equipment, before settling down. As he slowly put on the rings, the control points of the pulley-system, he said.

"Now as you know, in this surveillance pod, they usually wait for all the fun to settle down, and listen in on just the pillow talks. Though I wouldn't leave little Rousetta here alone and unattended for long. I could already smell some sweet scents from the carpet down below. Today, we'll surveil together instead. Only the steamy parts..!"

Is that the task?! But what's the point?

As Elanor frowned unsure, Ishikawa continued.

"Your Mistress tells me, you are quite the shy type! I noticed it myself, back during the celibacy trials. You feel everything, in a much deeper level.. Yet you don't show. You hesitate to vocalize. And when it spills, you make every effort to suppress it into a soft squeal. Which is sweet, in its own way. Apparently you've always been like this. Deeply embarrassed about articulation, let alone moan.. Moans are your body thanking the gods for the pleasures showered upon. We wouldn't want to deny the gods what's rightfully theirs now, would we?"

Elanor's face turned crimson red in shame. Not the kind of playful teasing, more of that guttural retreat of a near-violation. She remembered the time, telling Bella, her early adventures with Barthomius. The way he kept teasing her, and pushing the boundaries in public. The way his hands roamed, as her lips gave in, knowing full well a guard or maid could walk in any moment. In the shadows, behind statues, between corridor pillars, right in the middle of the patrol path. The fear of discovery, his key to getting her worked up quick.

Elanor remembered how hard she had to try, to keep herself silent, through all the voracious kissing and stroking. The early days of perfecting the art of low squeal. It didn't occur to her all the while, for a second even, that it was the moans itself that embarrassed her. Now that she thought, in all her sexual escapades, particularly for the past few months, her biggest worry was making it known. Hinting them with her moans, long after she had given in, maintaining the perception of her being in control. It's as if a part of her believed, long as she kept it hush, it's like it never happened.

It's absurd, but it worked. And to drive it home, once the squeal got out, she was invariably lost to the pleasures. Now, even that is being taken apart.

"Haanghh.. Haahnghh.. Mmmrrgghh.. Ssssszz.. Haann.. HHAAnnghh..!"

Speak of second-hand embarrassment, Elanor paled a couple tints of red instantly, as the moans echoed in the chamber walls. It was from one of the listening pipes, connected to one of the five surrounding play-rooms, and it sounded like someone was getting pumped out of their mind. The echo itself wasn't that loud, but either the quiet of the chamber, or the original volume of the girl, writhing in pleasure, enhanced the effect. And there's that strange self-awareness that finds you, when spying on something sinful. Not to mention, the clergyman's piercing gaze adding to the Queen's shame.

"It's a great set-up. I've cranked the gears, so it's set to randomly rotate between the listening pipes. That'd give you enough of an auditory pool, to have a first-hand experience, of how unashamed a true slut should behave, with her sensual pleas."

And no, it didn't get de-sensitized the more she listened. Elanor couldn't look away, due to the head-harness, and her shame only grew as the volume increased. The other woman seemed to be having the time of her life. There was other muffled sounds as well, her customer's hard grunts, and the squeak of the mattress. But nothing registered as much as the former.

Elanor let out a sudden yelp, as she felt a sudden pinch, waking her from the shock.

"Now I don't need to see, to know what exactly your body feels. I just know. Just as you realized, you felt the tug in your underbelly, a flutter in your heart much like in pleasure, but not quite. And those rosy cheeks turning red. I don't want to see your face to know it, Poppet. I can tell by the way your anus puckered, just as I mentioned the out-pipe.. Ha ha.. Virgins are so textbook.. Regardless the land, regardless the culture.."

That was true. He was hardly looking her way.

"Can you tell what makes that sound?"

Elanor almost parted her lips to say yes, as she remembered.

Voice is a luxury, one you can't afford.

She nodded yes instead, mostly with her eyes.

With a smirk of approval, Ishikawa asked.

"Getting pounded dearly up her snatch, you think?"

Well, the whore can't scream so much with her throat full now, can she?! The sudden animosity in her voice was a surprise to Elanor. Why would she feel so offended, by a working girl, and a job done well?! The Queen nodded in agreement.