Slave Zoe's Folsom Weekend

Master flipped my skirt back down. "Sit up, slut," he said, and I did. The dildo and the buttplug shfited around and aroused me a great deal as I moved. I heard Master squeeze something out of a bottle and rub his hands together, then dry them with a wipe. "Open your eyes wide," he said, and soon he'd popped both of the blackout contacts out of my eyes and into a lens case. I could see again.

I looked at myself. I was dressed in a loose white linen off-the-shoulder peasant blouse and a long red skirt. I looked out the car window. We were parked in a grassy field with hundreds of other cars. Master gave me a moment to adjust to the light, and we both got out of the car. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened an app. "I can do this," he said, and looked at me while tapping a control. Instantly, the dildo throbbed in my cunt and against my clit. It was rumbly and powerful. I had to lean against the car for support. "That's at 30% power," he said. He released his finger and the vibration stopped.

"And," Master said. He paused. "And, I can do this." He tapped the screen again. My clit erupted in pain, and my cunt lit up in fire. My eyes watered and my legs gave out. I collapsed against the side of the car, clutching at my crotch. The pain stopped as quickly as it started. I realized that Master had bought a remote control electrical shock dildo. "That's also 30% power," I heard him say through a fog.

While I sat on the ground recovering, Master opened the rear hatch and unzipped a long skinny bag. He pulled out a pair of wooden stocks. With me still sitting, he placed my hands and my neck in their spots in the back half of the stocks, then swung the front half in place, careful not to pinch, and fastened the latch. I noticed that he'd oriented the stocks so that the latch was on the bottom, out of my reach. My hands were now trapped a foot away from my neck on either side. The stocks were heavy, carved out of a single long piece of wood, and I felt weighed down by hand. Master helped me to my feet. I needed help since I was still mildly dazed and because I couldn't use my hands.

"Welcome to the Renaissance Faire," Master said, as he led me through the parking lot to the entrance booth. He paid for two tickets, winking at the cashier as she looked at me, and we entered. It was my first time at a RenFaire, and I looked around with interest as we explored the grounds. The place was filled with booths selling all kinds of art, crafts, and clothing. There were games of skill and chance, stages featuring jugglers, singers, plays, and musicals. We walked past the queen and the royal court. Master seemed to be searching for something.

Finally, by an empty stage, he stopped. "I'm making a temporary change to your rules. Just for this next scene, you may answer 'yes' or 'no' when anyone asks you a direct question. I will feed you the right answers using your dildo: if it vibrates, say 'yes', if it shocks you, say 'no.' If you feel nothing, you say nothing. Do you understand?" I nodded. I hoped there would not be many "no"s.

"OK, stay here for a moment." Master walked over to a man in a raw leather tunic who was carrying a wooden staff. He was clearly an official in this make-believe world. Master conversed with him, speaking in a low voice so I could not hear any of the words. Master pointedly glanced at me, prompting the man to stare at me appraisingly. As their conversation ended, I saw Master pass him a handful of folded bills and walk away.

Master walked over to the stage and sat in the front row just off the center aisle. As he likes to say, when you sit in front, "the magic gets all over you." He turned away from me, facing the stage, as the official walked over to me. He pulled a rope from his pouch and tied one end through a screw eye in the front of the stocks I was wearing. "Very considerate of you to bring your own stocks," he muttered to me. "Usually I have to supply them myself." I nodded, and then he started to pull me with the rope, using it like a leash.

I complied, following along as best I could. The stocks kept me from looking down, and the long skirt hid my feet, making it treacherous to move across the uneven ground. The dildo and buttplug worked in and out of my orifices. I stumbled and almost fell more than once. My captor didn't give me a break when this happened but just jerked impatiently on the leash.

The official led me across the faire grounds, through parts that I'd seen before and parts that were new to me. Whenever we came across a crowd, he cried out at them in a loud, practiced voice: "SLUT! Witness the SLUT being TRIED and PUNISHED! Follow me!" Fairegoers looked up and stared at me. I blushed red at them and enjoyed the arousal. Clumps of patrons broke off to trail behind us. Within a few minutes, we were leading a parade. I was unable to turn to look, but from the noise of their voices and feet, I could tell at least dozens of people were following us and maybe more.

After a long walk, we circled back to the stage where we had started. Some patrons who had made it there before us were already scattered through the rows of benches. The others following us filed in. I spotted Master waiting patiently in the front row as the official marched me past the benches, up a short flight of stairs, to the center of the stage. I stood there for a moment looking at the crowd, which packed all the benches, while he untied his rope from the front screw eye. Then he re-tied it to a different screw eye behind my left hand, reached above me and threw the rope over something out of sight, and finally ran it through a screw eye behind my right hand. He pulled on the rope, lifting my head and my hands and forcing me slightly up on my toes. When he was satisfied with how I was positioned, he tied off the end of the rope and turned to address the crowd.

"Quiet!" he began. The people settled down a little. There were a dozen or more benches and probably 20 people per bench, and some standing about, so perhaps 300 people all staring at me. It was a lot. I was turned on, but I was sure that this was going to get even better. He continued, "This woman you see before you is accused of being a slut. We will now try her and then punish her-"

At this, Master stood up and interrupted, "-if she is convicted, you mean!" He looked gleeful. The fix was on, obviously.

My captor nodded, accepting the correction. He continued, "I need a dozen jurors. Who wants to be on the jury? Raise your hands!" A hundred hands shot up. The magistrate-for I now realized what he was-pointed at several people scattered around, who walked up to the stage and settled on benches behind and to my side. I couldn't see them, but I could imagine what they saw of me, with my boobs hanging down and my ass thrust back. I was so excited and wet.

Before the jury, the magistrate called to me. "Do you confess that you are a slut?"

A painful electric shock shot through my crotch. "No, your honor!" I cried. A murmur of surprise ran through the crowd.

"...a slattern?"

Another shock. "No, your honor!" I wasn't even sure what that was. Perhaps it was Olde English for "slut." I would have to look it up later.

"...a harlot?"

A stronger shock. "No, your honor!" I took the strength of the shock as a signal, and played up my role. "I deny it! Absolutely not, your honor!" The crowd grew louder. They had come to see a confession and a punishment, and they were not getting it.

"Do you confess that you are a strumpet?"

Another shock, stronger still. I think I jumped. "No! I deny it, your honor!" I yelped. I was limp from all the pain. If I had not been held up by the stocks, I would have dropped to the floor. The muttering from the crowd increased and I even heard noises from the jury. This was not working out as they wanted. They had come to see a slut punished, and if she denied everything then there would be no good show.

The magistrate shifted course. He called out, "Bring forth the witness!" Master stood again and came up on stage just behind me. I couldn't face him because of how I was held up so strictly by the stocks. "Sir, you are this woman's accuser. Make your statement.."

Master stepped forward into my field of view. "This slut came into my home and my bed." The crowd murmured. "Is that right, slut?" He put a hand on my chin and looked into my eyes. He played to the crowd, standing to one side rather than right in front of me, giving them a good view.

I couldn't see Master's other hand, the one not on my chin, but I suspect it snuck into his pocket, because the dildo vibrated. I was relieved not to be shocked this time. "Yes, M-" I bit off the rest of the word. "Yes, sir."

"This slut, this adulteress sucked my cock. Is that true?" Well, that was unfair.

Another vibration. "Yes, sir."

"This slut begged me to spray my cum all over her body. Is that true?" Now this was getting ridiculous. Master loves doing that.

"Yes, sir."

"No further questions." Master left the stage and regained his seat in the front row.

The magistrate stepped forward again and addressed me. "We have heard from your accuser. Do you have any words to say in your defense?"

A powerful shock to my clit almost felled me. Weakly, I said, "No, your honor. This slut has nothing to say in its own defense, your honor."

"Then I turn the case over to the jury. Gentlemen, consider the case."

I hung there for a few minutes. The crowd noise increased and people got up and milled about. Few of them left, but many came up close to the stage and peered closely at me. For them, it was intermission, and I was the entertainment. I closed my eyes and just endured. After a few seconds, the dildo kicked in at low speed, not enough to ever get me off but very pleasant, a small relief from the stiffness from being stuck in my position for a lengthening amount of time. I was sure that the tight crotch strap was the only thing holding the dildo in, it would surely have simply fallen out of my slick cunt otherwise.

Then the magistrate was back, joined by a man I recognized to be from the jury. "Has the jury reached a verdict?" he said. The crowd settled down.

"We have, your honor. We find the defendant guilty as charged of sluttery." The crowd hardly reacted at all. This was obvious, since I had confessed.

"And have you decided on her punishment?"

"We have, your honor." He looked me up and down and, in conscious imitation of my Master, took my chin in his hand, even though I had never seen him before in my life. "We have decided, slut, that you are to be punished by public humiliation. You are to be stripped, then beaten, then fucked by each of the members of the jury in turn." The crowd roared.

I was delighted and it probably showed on my face, but the dildo suddenly shocked me and I guessed my line. "No...!" I cried out, loud enough to be heard over the crowd. Tears flowed from my eyes, which was hardly an act because the shock hurt so much.

The magistrate stepped over and behind me. He untied my skirt and unzipped it, then jerked it downward. It fell to the floor and pooled at my feet. Then he did the same with my blouse, revealing both the corset and the dildo harness I wore. A surprised and excited murmur passed through the crowd, reacting to the sight of the harness and my naked breasts, which were flushed with excitement. The magistrate himself did not react or hesitate. He removed the corset using the hooks in front, then unbuckled the waist belt from the harness and allowed the harness and the dildo to drop to the stage. Then he pulled the buttplug from my ass and set it down too. Without prompting, I stepped out of the pile of clothing and he moved it all aside with his foot.

The magistrate picked up a nasty looking quirt. It looked to be made of leather, with two tails. He drew it back and sharply landed both tails on my left breast. I gasped at the pain. Then he did it again with my right breast, then on my belly, then across each of my inner thighs, then across my upper back, my lower back, each buttock, the upper and lower parts of the back of each leg. At first I giggled, then I screamed, then I cried. The pain was tangible, a fiery glow that spread across my whole body. I felt pairs of small triangular welts begin to blossom on my skin where the quirt's tails had struck. After he finished this first pass, he went back and did it all over again, precisely hitting many of the very same places as before. I hardly felt it this time, it was only ensuring that the welts would last, I hung limply from the stocks in any case.

I was vaguely aware of the magistrate handing out condoms to the jury. A cock poking into my ass brought me slightly back to my senses. The magistrate dragged over a stepladder. A man climbed it and forced his cock into my mouth, which I sucked automatically. I figured this fell under rule four, under "deportment." A female juror ("Just so you know, I voted against conviction," she whispered into my crotch, "but that's no reason not to enjoy your punishment.") sucked on my clit and thrust her fingers in and out of my cunt. My sense of time faded away. I seemingly hung there forever, subject to an endless parade of sexual subjugation. Spent condoms piled up on the stage around my feet. Surely I was fucked by more than the dozen jurors, I think every person in the crowd who wanted it must have taken a turn.

An indefinite time later, I was released, still in stocks, from the overhead support. I fell, exhausted and spent, into Master's arms. "You're okay, Zoe, you're OK," he said, hugging me. I fell asleep in his arms almost instantly, utterly tired. I woke up in the back of his car, which was moving down the freeway, wrapped tightly in a blanket. My cunt and ass and mouth were sore and I smarted all over in the places where the quirt had bit. Master must have heard me stir, because he said, "Go back to sleep for now. We've still got more to do before bed and I need you rested and ready." I puzzled at the idea that he would ask even more of me today, and then I rolled over and fell back to sleep.

Chapter 9: Folsom Eve

I woke again when the car stopped. It was fully night now, and we were in a dimly lit parking lot in an urban environment. Master was out of the car, speaking to the parking lot attendant. He handed him some money and came back to the car, where he opened up a rear door and handed me a blindfold hood. I sat up and put it on. Master peeled the blanket off me and had me get out of the car. I was naked except for the day collar and my buttplug, which had been reinserted at some point while I was sleeping. The wrist and ankles cuffs I'd been wearing were gone. Master buckled and locked my leather collar around my throat and then led me away from the car. I was barefoot and shivering. I knew that I must be in San Francisco, probably the only place locally where a naked blindfolded woman being led through the street would not attract attention, at least not the night before Folsom Street Fair.

Master led me through a crowd. We waited in a line that slowly mounted a flight of stairs. He filled out a form for me and had me sign it. I figured out that we were in the Citadel, one of San Francisco's public dungeons. It was very busy for Folsom Eve, and Master kept me close as we walked through the hallway and around a corner. He moved a barrier aside for me, and I went up another couple of steps. Master had me sit down for a minute while he opened up his bag and got a few things out and arranged them. Metal clinked as he set something up nearby.

Then Master helped me up and put a coil of rope in my hand. He told me, "OK, Zoe, now you're going to put yourself in an upside-down suspension." This came as a complete surprise. I do suspend myself, but upside down is difficult! And blindfolded! And not being allowed to talk! It was a big challenge and I was worried that I would have to use my safeword. I stood there, stunned, for a moment, and then I thought about how to do it. I decided to keep it as simple as I could.

I started by figuring out where I was. I waved my hands around, searching for the suspension ring, which I figured was what made the clinking noise. I found it, higher than I like because Master is a foot taller than me, but I would have to deal with it. I stood under it, uncoiled the rope, and located the bight. Holding the bight in one hand, I looped the working end around my waist and then brought it through the bight, forming a lark's head, and took it back the other way, tightening it over my hipbones. I added two more loops in the same way, and then locked it off with a half hitch, forming a single column tie above my hips. I reached up to the ring, fed the doubled working end through, and let it drop loosely

I reached out and Master handed me a second coil of rope. I undid the coil, then I stooped, tied a Somerville bowline single column around one leg, and fed the working end through the ring. I repeated the same thing with the other leg.

With my fingers, I traced the rope from the hip tie through the ring and back down toward the working end, which I then looped back through the hip tie, leaving it loose at that point. Then I hauled down on the section of rope leading down from the ring, leaning back at the same time. As I tipped over, the tie around my waist caught on my hips and supported them. My body inverted and I pulled hand over hand on the ropes to raise myself farther off the ground. Now hanging upside down, I used one hand to grip the four taut ropes to keep from falling, and used the other hand to grab the loose working end and feed it through the ring one more time, then I pulled on it to make it taut too. I did this quickly and somewhat convulsively because it's a lot of work to support oneself with a pair of ropes. I looped it through the hip ring again, then I repeatedly turned the working end around the eight vertical ropes, to use up the remaining rope, and tied the whole thing off with a few half hitches. I was now securely held upside down by my hips.

I turned my attention to my legs. I was holding them up in the air but that was tiring. I grabbed one of the dangling leg ropes and pulled on it, raising and supporting my foot. Then I looped it through the single column tie and back through the ring, repeated that a few times, and tied it off with a half hitch. This did not need as much care in tying since it was not supporting my weight. I did the same thing with my other foot.

I relaxed. When I did, my exhaustion from the day and from the exercise really hit me. I sighed and did a quiet self-assessment. Not only was I tired, I was sore and I wondered how many visible welts and bruises there were on my body. I could feel my breasts hanging upside down, almost brushing my chin. I wondered how many people were staring at them, not to mention the rest of me. My hips were starting to get sore already, with one of the ropes rubbing on a sore spot.

"Good job," said Master, snapping me back to reality. He grabbed my head and pressed it against his crotch. I could feel his dick bounce against my throat. "A little too low for a proper blow job, though." A moment later, I felt him pull off my hair tie, then he tied rope into my hair. He pulled hard on the hair tie to one side and tied it to some fixed point.

Apparently that raised my head just enough, because a moment later Master's cock was in my mouth. I sucked at it eagerly and he thrust in and out. Sometimes he thrust his cock all the way in and I choked. I think being upside down made me choke worse than usual. After a few thrusts, I felt a touch on my clit, which I presently identified as a tongue, and Master began sucking and teasing me. We engaged that way in a kind of vertical 69.

An inverted position is stressful at the best of times, and we were both spent from a long day. Before long, Master pulled his cock from my mouth and his mouth from my clit. Pausing only to give my clit a smack with his hand, he untied my legs, then carefully and slowly untied the hip ropes and lowered me to the ground. He let me lay there silently for a minute, recovering, while he cleaned and put things away. Then he gave me a big hug, wrapped me in a sheet, and walked me back to the car.