“Maybe we can even include it as part of the band’s future performances!”
Hannah didn’t get to ask what she meant because they propelled her to the centre of the room, to a low podium on which there was a large wooden frame. Either someone had handed Erik the handcuff keys, or all cuffs had the same type of key, because he produced one and released her wrists. Instantly, though, Rapture started attaching hefty leather cuffs in their place.
It didn’t take long. Hannah found herself stretched on the frame, attached to it by widely-spread wrists and ankles. Still gagged, she couldn’t do more than grunt when Erik produced scissors to remove her thong, and then untied the corset and freed her breasts, revealing them to the entire club. She was truly, now, naked and bound in public, exposed to everyone’s gaze.
She wondered how the whip strokes would feel on her back and ass, but the whipcrack definitely ramped up her levels of apprehension. She found herself having to fight down genuine fear. She felt herself beginning to tremble…
CRACK! The air next to her seemed to explode, and she yelped in reflex as she felt the pressure wave against skin that seemed suddenly very fragile.
Erik jumped up on the podium with her. Hannah found herself looking down at a group of people, of both sexes, in outfits ranging from full-on leather, rubber and PVC to virtually nothing at all. Apart from their obviously fetishistic dress-sense, one thing united the group: they were all looking at her with a steady gaze that felt like a blast of heat.
Erik announced to the group what was to happen. This was an initiation to the scene, as fierce and deep in its meaning as any ceremony carried out by any social group anywhere. He used the material she’d given him: Freud, sex magick, the anthropological stuff. He said what they were about to do was a sexual ceremony of emotional release. Or maybe an emotional ceremony of sexual release. Hannah found it difficult to concentrate, knowing that whichever way round Erik said it, whatever the ceremony was designed to accomplish would be inscribed in pain on her body.
He took his time, chose his targets with care.
Buttocks. Shoulder blades. The tops of her thighs. Belly. Breasts. And the sequence repeated again. The kinetic energy of the whip, concentrated into its last few inches, transferred in a split second onto a thin strip of flesh.
For Hannah, though, each split second separated into precisely seven moments of time standing still. The thin pressure wave against her skin in the instant before the whip’s impact; the snakelike curl and bite as the leather buried itself deeply into skin; the force of the blow making her swing and bounce in her bondage. Then the involuntary scream muffled by the gag, as air rushed from her lungs; the sensation of being looked at appreciatively as she suffered; the combination of pain fizzing through her nerves like fuse wires burning towards a stick of dynamite, the heat of bruised and tortured skin forming into a weal, and finally the latticework of pain forming on her body changing its character, to become a quicksilver vein of pure sex that arrowed directly and exactly to her clit, each whip-stroke building the pressure and intensity towards its inevitable end — the unbelievable, concentrated detonation of cumming.
She lost count of the number of whip-strokes. Her reaction to each was so complex and yet so dedicated to one end that she was caught in a spiderweb of pain, desire, transcendental calmness and brutal ecstasy.
The whole experience began to feel absurd. It was completely irrational that pain should give pleasure; that being bound felt like freedom and being publicly exposed felt like empowerment; that she could feel so tranquil and ecstatic in response to such fierce treatment.
“Kuk-kuk-kurrgh.” Hannah was laughing, spluttering through the gag. The laughter was all she needed, the final surreal twist that made the connection. A tempest of cumming stormed through body and brain, swept her away like a tiny piece of flotsam.
Chapter 4
♦♦♦♦
Hannah felt herself untied, her limp body taken by unseen hands and laid on the podium. She was drenched in perspiration and her thighs slippery with her own juices. She barely registered the welts on her body. They felt as insubstantial as smoke. There was a sound halfway between the crackling of fire and the crash of waves on a rock. It took her an age to work out it was applause. Applause? What the hell?
It took her an age to understand she hadn’t, in fact, been released. She was spread-eagled and restrained, but she was flat on her back, her head tilted backwards so that if she could focus her eyes she’d have an upside-down view of the room.
A face came close to hers. The ballgag came out of her mouth. Lips brushed against hers, then crushed them hard. A tongue entwined with hers, explored, probed down until it felt like it had reached her clit — from the inside. It was a long, languorous kiss. And when it stopped, it was Rapture’s voice that reached her.
Hannah worked out she’d just had her first full, deep, woman-on-woman kiss.
“You,” Rapture murmured, “are a little painslut. And you did work out that I’m bi, right? I’m so looking forward to playing with you. … But right now, Erik has some other ideas. And you never know your luck in a raffle, do you!”
If Hannah could have formed words, she’d have asked what exactly Rapture meant about the raffle. But her vocal cords weren’t up to the task, and a couple of seconds later she’d gone, to be replaced by Erik — who was fitting some kind of metalwork in her mouth that meant the best she could do was “Akk! Awwk?”
“It’s called,” Erik said, “a Jennings gag. Dentists used to use it to stop patients closing their mouth. Kinksters use it for, well, the same purpose. It’s just why they want to keep your mouth open that’s different. Probably.”
Hannah didn’t get it. She still didn’t get it when Erik announced the winners were numbers 43 and 72.
She got it when a cock plundered her wedged-open mouth and made it almost all the way down her throat. Erik had raffled her off as a prize, to be taken then and there, in the club and in front of an audience.
There was nothing she could do about it. And it felt, yet again, like her restraint was a liberation. She’d been turned into a fucktoy, and she was in the right headspace to accept it and go with it. There was nowhere else she’d rather be and nothing else she’d rather be doing than sucking off a complete stranger while tied naked in a fetish club.
The second guy was, she sensed, kneeling between her spread legs. And then he was on her, parting her labia, peeling her open, riding her with his cock. Every thrust forced her mouth towards the first guy, her spread lips brushing against shaven balls. She felt the two of them, every vein, every pulse. The sensations were dirty and delicious, wicked and greedy, and something at the back of Hannah’s brain was sardonically amused at how this could feel so evil and so pure at the same time. The vestige of her consciousness that wasn’t bound up in the moment actually wondered why she hadn’t tried this before.
Then they were cumming, all three of them, not exactly in synch but like dominos. The one fucking her mouth pushed hard and Hannah moaned thickly around the pulsing wedge. It spurted hard and her throat was flooded. She tried to cough out the spunk and arched her back, suddenly creating exactly the right angle to take the other cock that fraction of an inch more, driving her over the edge and floating weightless inside her own orgasm. She bucked her hips, pulling against her ankle restraints, and it seemed to trigger something in the guy between her legs, one last forceful thrust that made his cock jump and pulse like a snake, a long, hard ejaculation.
Rapture’s words echoed around her head for a while after that: you never know your luck in a raffle. Exactly so.
It took her a while to feel like she was in the real world again. When the endorphins of whipping and sex wore off, the welts began to sting more. Any movement reminded her of just how many lines of reddened flesh lay across her body. She could feel the raised skin, trace her fingers over it gently, and remember not just the em
otions that had been stirred in her, but blow by blow exactly how those welts had happened.
She stayed close by Erik, kneeling between his legs, head resting on this thigh. He stroked her hair gently. They were in a darkened corner of the club, a partly screened off booth against the back wall, with easy chairs and the low buzz of conversation — along with noises that were a consequence of sex — coming from far away. She felt at peace.
Did she, though, really want peace?
Nope. She wanted to sizzle and burn. It had already been a night of breaking down boundaries. And if it was to be as transgressive an initiation as she now felt she needed, there was more to do.
She transferred her head from Erik’s lap, into Rapture’s. Rapture was wearing a long, spiderweb lace dress that both hid and showed athletic legs. It was split to the hip. Slowly, Hannah pushed the material aside to rest her cheek on Rapture’s thigh. Rapture parted her legs slightly and Hannah could smell the perfumed richness there. She wore no underwear. Hannah’s lips lay just a couple of inches from Rapture’s labia, the closest view she’d ever had of another woman’s slit. Hannah sensed a slight motion in Rapture’s body, and correctly interpreted that motion as an invitation, as Rapture and Erik exchanged a glance between them.
Rapture tasted intoxicating.
When she grasped Hannah’s hair to pull her down closer, tighter, Hannah purred. Felt the slight vibrations it created in Rapture’s pubic bone, felt the response and redoubled her efforts.
She paid no attention to movements beside and behind her, until she felt Erik’s prick rubbing the soft, moist tissue of her pussy lips. Fighting free of Rapture’s hand, Hannah raised her head to say just one thing.
“Please….this time….in my ass…”
Then she was burrowing her way into Rapture again, wrists folded behind her back like an obedient slave.
Erik laughed. Somewhere above her she heard his voice: “She’s a demanding slut, isn’t she?”
But he did what she’d asked.
Hannah hadn’t started with an “initiation list” that included either a threesome or all-holes use. But it seemed to fit with the moment. She concluded that she’d known, unconsciously, from the very first moment in the café that this was how she wanted her sex life to be in the future. It was just a case of making it happen.
She briefly wondered if the hypnotist had known what he was going to unleash. And a few seconds later, she didn’t care about that at all because her tongue was as far up into Rapture’s pussy as it would go and Erik’s cock, well-lubricated with her own juices, had drilled its way into the much tighter confines of her ass, stimulating her in a way she’d never known was possible.
She’d never taken seriously the idea that orgasm was possible through anal sex.
Now she did, because even without using fingers on her clit, the rocking motion of Erik’s cock fired up her body and put her head straight back into cumspace. And as for Rapture’s pussy — there were good reasons why it could be described as a “perfumed garden”. When Hannah yapped and barked her own orgasm, her tongue lapping and slurping at Rapture’s clit, the effect on Rapture was an immediate, violent, breathless orgasm.
Chapter 5
♦♦♦♦
Erik didn’t take the collar off. Hannah wouldn’t let him. She felt it had become a symbol of her new self.
She didn’t know what had happened to her corset. She’d allowed them to take her home naked, and she slept between them on a big wrought-iron bedstead. When she finally made it back to her place early the next afternoon, she wore just her coat and shoes…and nothing else.
On Monday she was stiff and sore going to work. Though the welts had started to go down, her bra strap bit into them. So she went braless.
In an idle moment she remembered, from her schooldays, a friend talking about losing her virginity. Her friend had said this about it: “Rationally you know the world is still the same world, but everything just feels that little bit different like you’ve discovered a secret. You’re not quite the same person you were before. You’re more defined, and yet more open.”
Hannah felt she’d discovered more than a few secrets, about herself as much as anything. She felt like she’d lost not one virginity, but several, all at the same time.
Mid-morning she was scheduled to attend a meeting. One item on the agenda: Was it viable to buy into the idea of a chain of stores offering hypnotherapy?
Hannah shrugged. “Whether the underlying financials would support it, I don’t know. I guess you’ve all noticed I no longer smoke, and that was something I did by hypnosis. So it works.”
She didn’t tell them about the side-effects, though.
Hannah would be exploring those further with Erik and Rapture. On Friday, backstage at a gig. And then at the after-party.
♦♦♦♦
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