by Toby Abbott
They were so long that there was ample space to pierce them twice, horizontally and vertically, giving hard points for a multitude of imaginative bindings. Helmut used the needle this time. With Mary’s trunk so tightly bound, even the agony of these nipple piercing produced little more for the spectators to see than a ripple of the muscles all across her body, but there was a surprising volume of sound for them to enjoy or endure, both from Mary’s gagged mouth and from her hogtied heels drumming on the back of the board.
The navel piercing, not much more highly regarded by the Millionaires than those of the nostrils, was a mere interlude on the way down to Mary’s remarkable cunt. This was the treat the audience had been waiting for since the scene with the blacksmith began. Helmut was famous for his lacing and other imaginative cunt work. He was the club’s piercing artist, and the members were impatient to see what he would make of the largest canvas ever offered to him.
Helmut wanted the option of folding back Mary’s remarkable inner lips and pinning them in position like a rare butterfly in a display case, though in truth their outline when fully stretched was more reminiscent of a bat. He therefore punched half a dozen holes in each of the outer lips, while Mary rattled the board with her impotent struggles. These holes could take rings when she was to be laced and sealed, or studs when the inner lips were to be attached to the outer. For that purpose Helmut pierced twelve corresponding holes through the inner lips, carefully measured to align exactly with their counterparts on the outer when fully extended.
While Mary was still moaning and sobbing her vain protest against this defilement, Helmut proceeded with an urethral piercing, followed by both vertical and horizontal piercing of the clitoral hood. Mary’s reaction was so unrestrained that Helmut decided some stimulation was needed before he performed his pièce de résistance, the rare piercing of the clit itself.
“Have I your permission, Sir, to pleasure this slave?” he ad-libbed, much to the annoyance of Mr Morimoto
“I suppose so,” he replied curtly, and very much out of the warrior’s character, though not his own.
Mary’s clit was already standing clear of the hood, as it so often did. It was easy for Helmut to bring a feather into play, flirting it gently back and forth across the sensitive flesh, which swelled visibly under this treatment. It was not at all necessary for Helmut’s purpose, but fascinating for the rest of the cast, who were close enough to observe the phenomenon. The audience had to track Mary’s rising graph of pleasure through the less delicate indications of her colour and breathing, which were very red and very ragged.
Laying the feather aside, Helmut wet his little finger on his tongue, and used it to tickle the area around Mary’s clit, not forgetting to jiggle the sleepers in her new hood piercing. It was the old pleasure/pain principle once more, and the sudden jolt seemed to heighten rather than damp her ardour. Getting his needle and wedge ready, Helmut squatted and took Mary’s clit between his fleshy lips. A few flicks of the tongue across the tip of the imprisoned bud were all it took. It was an amazing orgasm to behold, like a deep subterranean earthquake visible on the surface only as a violent tremor. At its height Helmut skewered the pulsing clit, momentarily doubling the intensity of Mary’s pleasure, until sensory overload caused her to black out. As a result, she missed the only standing ovation of her acting career.
“Congratulations, Aki, a wonderful performance! Was it a translation or your own composition?”
“Yes, yes, my own, Sir Roger. All Japanese gentlemen are poets.”
“Evidently. I don’t believe I have ever seen one of your national plays. Was this in a classical style?”
“In part only. In compliment to Miss Bowdler I have attempted to combine the No play with elements of the damsel in distress theme from your English pantomine.”
“A sort of No! No! play?”
“If you wish.”
“Or Unhand Me Sir! Modulating into a Yes! Yes! Play, or Fist Me Sir! as the action hots up. But whatever one chooses to call the entertainment it was damned good.”
“Thank you, old friend. You really think so?”
“Put this on in London and it would break all box office records - if the Lord Chamberlain could be squared.”
“Ah, yes, censorship. A sad thing. But with Miss Bowdler at our disposal we can laugh at it for the future.”
Tommy Khan
Mary woke on Tuesday morning stiff and sore, but proud to have survived her first session with Mr Morimoto. Madame’s words were beating in her head: “Keep yourself safe until Tuesday.” Well, she had done it. But if the Sisters of Sappho were planning a raid this very night, how was she to warn the beautiful Tommy Khan? And if she found a way of warning him, could she do it without betraying Madame?
It began to look as though she would be left chained in her cabin all day, but towards teatime Madame appeared to give her an airing on the promenade deck. Today Madame was tense and uncommunicative, and Mary found her status was to be that of an animal rather than a friend. But to show off her doubled nakedness and her adornments she was not to be a four-legged animal. Madame thrust a gag in the form of a large bone into Mary’s mouth. She linked her ankle cuffs individually with nine inch chains to the sides of her belt, and her wrist cuffs with three inch chains to the centre of her collar. These restraints trapped her heels against her buttocks and brought her hands into a begging position below her chin. Madame added a chain to the collar, and ordering Mary to waddle after her like a trained poodle on its hind legs, she set off briskly for the open air.
Mr Morimoto’s play was the chief topic of conversation among the promenaders, and Madame received many compliments upon the excellence of her pet’s performance. Tommy Khan was one of those who stopped to talk over the events of the previous night. Mary was devastated to see him strolling arm-in-arm with a naked and bronzed Grace Connolly, her legs looking longer than ever in excessively high-heeled sandals. They brought her height to within a few inches of his. Mary desperately longed to be able to talk to Tommy, to find some way of arousing his curiosity and lust. Debarred from this by her gag, whenever Tommy looked her way she put everything into her eyes, trying to make them as wide and liquid as possible, fluttering her eyelids, and dropping her gaze suggestively to his crotch. She could tell she was having an effect from the growing bulge in his flannels, but she feared it was the wrong effect when he slipped his arm round Grace’s back and began to play with her nipple ring.
But luckily for Mary, and unluckily for her rival, Grace had been booked for the evening by a disgruntled pogo-stick punter, intent on taking out the value of his wager in lashes. Aware of this, Tommy opened a negotiation with Madame for the use of her favourite. She would usually have been reluctant to concede this, but she had much to do in preparation for the night, and after a show of reluctance, agreed on the strict condition that Mary be restored to her by ten o’clock.
Tommy took Mary’s lead without delay, and hurried her away to his cabin. She hoped for a chance to speak when she saw the table spread for tea, but Tommy shared not only Byron’s romantic looks, but his distaste for seeing a woman eat. He added to it an almost equally strong aversion to the female voice. Mary spent the meal begging in vain beside Tommy’s chair while he wolfed a whole plateful of muffins. She had not had breakfast or lunch, and began to wish her plastic bone were a real one. She would no longer have been too proud to gnaw it.
Tommy often boasted of being a practical man, not a mere theorist. He was young enough to still see bondage as a means to an end, rather than as an end in itself. He was often bemused by his more senior fellow members, who put their slaves into one outstandingly convenient position after another without, apparently, feeling any urge to make use of these openings. Why on earth could they not follow Tommy’s example, and use them all? “Ah, Youth!” as Sir Roger was sometimes heard to comment behind Tommy’s back. Mary was in for a strenuous even
ing.
With unusual economy of effort, Tommy decided that for his first bout he would make use of Mary’s existing restraints, which meant taking her doggy style. To make it more interesting he propped her knees on a low footstool, which raised her bottom higher, arched her back more, and, when Tommy began to pummel her with his mighty cock, nearly crushed her nose against the floor. Luckily the carpet, the produce of one of Tommy’s own estates, was a fine one. Not that Mary would have been likely to complain, or even notice, if her nose had been broken. Her infatuation was still running at the flood, and she came almost as soon as Tommy entered her.
Noticing this (with unusual attention to a slave) Tommy withdrew his rampant cock. What was more remarkable, he kept it at full throbbing erection throughout the preparation of Mary’s next position, which was designed to exploit the slave’s obvious excitement. He removed all her restraints except the collar, cuffs, and bone gag. Her cuffs he attached to a pulley with which he raised her to the point where her straining toes just brushed the carpet. Her hands were free to grasp the rope above her cuffs, and her legs were entirely unrestrained. Tommy stood behind her, reaching round to play with her hard nipples and to tickle her recently denuded and still ultra-sensitive pubic mound, with its collection of little sleeper rings. His cock throbbed against her coccyx. Mary’s breath was whistling through her nose as her lust mounted again and she strained to pull Tommy closer still by raising herself on the rope and hooking her feet behind his knees.
He let his cock nuzzle her arse for a moment before breaking free, and moving round to stand in front of her. He crushed her in a strong embrace, which jammed the head of his cock against her navel, while his balls tickled her cunt. Releasing his grip, Tommy moved back a fraction to give his hands room to caress Mary’s nipples. She was growing frantic again, pulling herself up on the rope hand over hand, and wrapping her legs around Tommy’s waist for added leverage, but as she hauled her cunt closer to the head of his cock, so Tommy rose first onto the balls of his feet, then onto tiptoe, to make her task harder.
Eventually he could rise no further, and with a convulsive effort Mary pulled herself high enough to mount him. She swung up first her left leg, then her right, to lock them behind Tommy’s neck, and aiming with pure instinct, impaled herself with a single fluid movement. As Tommy remained stubbornly still, his feet once more solidly planted on the floor, his hands resting casually on his hips, Mary was forced to do all the work. As the least strenuous option available, she settled on a rocking motion, swinging her bottom away from Tommy by straightening her legs and jerking the rope. Once the rhythm was established it almost maintained itself. She would pull back to the tip of Tommy’s cock, her long nipples brushing his face during the ascent, then plummet until she rebounded from the solid buffers of his hips. Such a pounding could not last long. Before she had completed a dozen plunges Mary came again, and this time Tommy joined her.
Even Tommy needed to rest a little after this bout, but Mary’s hopes of taking advantage of his tiredness were dashed when he stretched himself yawning on the bed, leaving her hanging by her wrists and struggling to support any of her weight on outstretched toes. Tommy did not sleep, but lay musing on possible positions for his next trick. Mary, her eyes drawn constantly to his wonderful cock, could follow there the rise and fall of his inspiration. A promising scenario would set it stirring, the memory of a technical obstacle would cause it to sink again. When at last she saw it grow very rapidly from flaccid to ramrod stiff, Mary realised that such a potent erotic thought was likely to have painful consequences for herself, but her passion for Tommy was burning higher than ever, causing lust to cast out fear.
Leaping from the bed with renewed energy, Tommy produced the simple tools for her next ordeal from one of the lavishly equipped bondage cupboards that were a feature of all the members’ cabins. They were a pair of stout steel rods, two feet long, with cuffs at each end. Before releasing Mary from the pulley, Tommy locked one cuff to each to her ankles, leaving the rods lying on the floor behind her. Then he freed her wrists and bent her backwards. Supporting the small of her back on one knee, he locked her wrists into the cuffs at the other ends of the two rods, and stood back to admire his work. There she was, supporting herself on hands and feet, with her breasts and denuded cunt facing the ceiling as the high points of her body. It was immediately a tiring position to maintain, but the moment she began to lower her bottom towards the floor Tommy’s cane flicked her right nipple warningly.
“Your waist is not to drop below the level of your knees and shoulders until I give you permission, slave. You will feel the cane where you will least enjoy it at every infringement of this simple rule. Knees further apart! Now walk around the bed. When you have completed six circuits I will perhaps reward you.”
‘Walk’ was an odd term for the strange shuffling motion that was all Mary could manage. The position was even harder to maintain in motion than when stationary: the rods were heavy, and upside down navigation surprising difficult. Several times she found herself turning in the wrong direction. Above all, it was a supremely embarrassing position for any woman, and triply so for the just depilated and ringed Mary, with her blatantly immodest sex. She kept imagining her inner labia, now tumbling out of her gaping gash, and dripping on the carpet, as speaking to Tommy, and what they said, or screamed, was “Fuck me, master!” It was, admittedly, what she wanted him to do, but what she wanted to say was “I love you!”
As Tommy had laid himself down again to enjoy her promenade in comfort, Mary thought she had an opportunity to rest briefly while passing behind the bed, where she was hidden by a bank of pillows. Once safely round the corner she brought her knees closer together and lowered her buttocks to the lovely carpet. It felt blissful. Too late, she noticed that there was a large mirror fitted above the bed. As she hoisted herself hastily back to the correct position she caught Tommy’s eye, regarding her like God from a painted ceiling. He was smiling, but it was not a smile she liked.
Tommy did not allow Mary the luxury of resting while he beat her. Rising unhurriedly from the bed and picking up his cane from the table, he strolled round to where Mary had halted and was staring at the mirror like a mesmerised rabbit.
“Why have you stopped walking, slave?”
As Mary jerked back into motion, she nervously watched Tommy stroll along beside her, flexing the cane and scrutinising her body as though, Mary thought, trying to decide where he could inflict the most pain. She was wrong. He already knew.
“Not only have you disobeyed my orders, you have disturbed my rest. Your six circuits will begin again now, and this time I will walk with you and offer every encouragement in my power. Knees wide I said!”
Tommy emphasised his words by swishing the cane back and forth against the insides of Mary’s thighs until she had straddled them enough to satisfy him. The position made ‘walking’ even harder, but even so she managed to put on a spurt when Tommy lifted the cane high above his head like a batsman using a high backlift. He was a noted amateur cricketer. Mary, who had also played at school, wondered whether it would be a defensive stroke or a full-blooded cut. It turned out to be a wristy drive of the cane straight across Mary’s taut belly.
“I told you to keep this up, Miss. My instruction was that it should be no lower than knees or shoulders. Now, because you have been a bad girl, you must keep it higher than either. Higher, I said!”
The words were underlined by another spanking drive to Mary’s tortured belly. Her position was now grotesque as well as uncomfortable: legs widely spread, navel straining towards the ceiling, and head trying to look two ways at once, constantly falling back to aid navigation and jerking up again to look out for blows. She scuttled desperately round the corners of the bed each time she saw the cane lifted. After the two admonitory stripes across the belly Tommy concentrated most of the punishment on Mary’s breasts, sweeping the cane in low to catch the undersides
, or using a backhand stroke to land solidly on the upper slopes. More dreadful still, he would sometimes raise the trajectory of the cane’s descent from either direction, so as to make glancing contact with the nipples.
As Mary got near to completing her six exhausting circuits of the bed, Tommy began to accompany his strokes with moral precepts for her benefit. “A slave is honoured by her master’s commands” he would intone, while delivering a wristy blow to the underside of her right breast, or “A true slave takes pride in obeying” as he attempted to slice the top off her left nipple with a vicious backhand. The final agonising blow, laid squarely across her newly sensitised mount of Venus, underlined the advice that “A slave should never suppose herself unobserved”.
Mary completed her task of six circuits before Tommy could strike again, and he ordered her to stop walking. She obeyed, of course, but found herself involuntarily dancing on the spot in an attempt to jiggle her breasts, and so ease their pain, if only slightly. The sight was so pleasant that Tommy chose not to interpret it as disobedience.
“As I am a merciful master,” said Tommy, seating himself on the foot of the bed, “I will in this instance allow your punishment to cancel out your disobedience, and still give you a reward.” He shuffled his bottom to the edge of the bed and straddled his legs widely, so that his rampant cock jutted out far in front of him. “Come, slave! Come and claim your reward!”
Mary was more than willing, but puzzled how to set about it. She shuffled towards her target head first, intending to take it in her mouth, but she was gagged of course, and in any case, if she threw her head back to make her mouth available it was too low for her to do more than kiss Tommy’s balls. When she set her head horizontally she could do no more than nuzzle the underside of his cock with her straining lips. If she raised her head she could make firmer contact, but only with her hair. Tommy enjoyed all these caresses well enough, as a prelude, but after a while he consented to help by letting his bottom slip further down the mattress.