K felt a double prick on her stocking-covered thigh and then an electric shock. She thought she’d been tasered and the shock almost took her out of the chair. The pain was terrible and lasted several minutes after the shock while Hedrick continued to lecture her.
“That was just a low power taste of what we can do. I hope you get it, honey. I really want to see you have a good time.” He was untying her now, slowly letting circulation back into her arms and hands. He substituted a cold pair of hinged handcuffs for the ropes on her wrists and pulled her arms back over the top of the chair back, using another short length of chain to fasten the cuffs down to a cross bar between the chair legs. This forced K to sit up very straight while Hedrick untied her legs and used more handcuffs to chain her ankles back on each side, bending her knees and locking the cuffs high up on the rear legs of the chair. With her legs forced wide apart, K found the position even more uncomfortable than the original hogtie. She tried to talk to her captors through the mush of soaked cloth in her mouth.
“Mmm muurgh mmaa mmph,” was all that came out.
“Don’t worry,” said Pam, who up until now had been busy somewhere else in the room. “You will get lots of opportunity to vocalize later. Save it for then. Everyone here will love to hear you scream.”
Chapter Two
Katrine wasn’t screaming. She wasn’t gagged except for a thin strap that was drawn between her teeth and pulled her cheeks back, giving her a rictus-like expression. Each blow with the stiff wooden cane left a long red trace across her exposed and bent over ass, but the only sounds she made were low grunts each time the cane struck. She was tightly rope-bound over a hard hassock-like cube covered in stained leather. Her naked belly pressed into the leather top surface and her breasts hung down on the front side while her thighs were strapped and spread on the other side. Another strap held her head down. Her arms were bound behind her back; wrists pulled up high and tied to each opposite shoulder. The most annoying strap came up from the hassock, split the lips of her pussy and cut an unpleasant passage through the quaking mounds of her buttocks, then joined a wide belt that held her waist pressed to the leather cube.
It could not be said that she was enjoying it, but anyone watching would have assumed that not only had she consented to the beating but that both physically and mentally she appreciated it as a sort of justified punishment for something she might have done. The surrounding crowd seemed to share that conclusion and no one displayed the slightest concern or sympathy for her plight.
The man beating her seemed to be enjoying it too. He was meticulous, syncopated with two light touching contacts just before the brutally hard main blow, carefully timing his strokes so as not to be going too fast or too slow, letting each blow sink in for the desired effect. As he progressed, he was soon panting and sweating as if he was running a marathon, his rasping breaths coming close together between each stroke of the cane.
Still partly blindfolded by the hood, K could not see what was going on, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She had been here before. She visualized the scene, reconstructing it once again from an old mental image buried deep in her brain:
Gathered around her were many people, most of whom she knew well, in various poses of curiosity or distain and wearing drab, farm peasant outfits. They all were there to see Katrine get punished for her violations of the community code. Katrine would always deny it, but she actually loved being punished, be it with angry, insulting words or more strictly with whip, paddle or cane. She loved the chains, the ropes and straps that went with the beatings and confinement. It was important that she be restrained in the most arduous of postures, unable to move or complain while the punishment was inflicted. At home, the place where she once lived in a deeply sequestered community of religious fanatics, the women were, it seemed, more often in the wrong than the men and thus they were usually the recipients of the punishments handed down by the five men and five women on the town council.
The town guidelines specified very detailed punishments for various offenses ranging from appearing outside one’s domicile without proper attire to copulating with someone you were not authorized to fuck, to the more heinous crimes of murder and assault. Although the penalty menu changed frequently, town residents usually knew by heart the punishments for most infractions. For example, K knew well that wearing shoes with the wrong kind of heels or fastenings would get her eight hours in the public stocks with her bare feet lashed once every hour. Confinement to The Cellar or The Hole were punishments that entailed unspecified accompaniments, such as spending a week, naked in the mud hole with ankles closely chained, hands manacled behind the back and a force-feed gag in the mouth. This sentence could be further enhanced with a chastity belt holding a pair of dildoes inside her or with nipple stretchers on both tits. The type and function of the internal probes was also codified in the town’s punishment menu. K had, at one time or another, endured most of the penalties, including a week in The Hole with all three of her holes snugly plugged with fat, inflatable dongs of immense length and her ringed nipples attached to one wall by a short chain that only allowed her to sit or kneel on the dirt floor. It had been unpleasant, even with the twice daily respites for toilet breaks and minimal sustenance, but when her sentence was up, she actually felt some regret, not for the stupid “crimes” she had been convicted of, but for having to leave the cold, dark solace of The Pit. There was something comforting about being kept in the solitary well, her body restrained but her mind free to wander and escape the stone walls.
K knew, by that point in her young life, that she was a dedicated and serious closet sub, a true masochist who reveled in being punished, mistreated, bound, chained, sexually abused and humiliated. The public exposures were exciting for her, but the days in The Pit and other punishment cells were events that left her physically spent from the multiple orgasms that engulfed her on an hourly, (if she worked at it), basis. Over time, the town governors became aware of her “interests” and eventually, they concluded that she was a hazard to their system of law and social code enforcement. This realization eventually led to K’s expulsion from the town. But in the early days, K served her time in almost every disciplinary facility the overseers could provide. For example, she worked hard to disguise her love for the public exposure of the chain gang.
The chain gang worked day and night at whatever projects the overseers found appropriate. In the winter, it was snow removal with little more than a shovel. In summer, it was road maintenance or demolition work, all intended to wear down the prisoners to the point where they actually could do little more than push a shovel or wheelbarrow. The town’s citizens carefully avoided the gangs as they worked on the streets because even watching them could be construed as a crime. Offenders were often apprehended, stripped on the spot and added to the coffle. Women and men were joined together in the same gang. There was no sexual discrimination and the bare maintenance diet and harsh conditions prevented most incidents. However, being charged with sexual misconduct while serving on a gang was immediately rewarded by a sentence of what was known as Public Display Sex, PDS. Convicted offenders, (everyone charged was convicted and no one ever avoided conviction unless they died), spent time bound on the punishment rack in the town square, in any weather, and were systematically abused in every fashion. The women, if they were attractive, were taken by anyone who desired to have them in public, which, of course, tended to bring out the community rapists, male and female. The men were usually abused by having their sex chained or tied with weights or being partially suspended by the same organs. One common punishment for major offences was impalement on a rounded stalk with ankles chained and spread wide and cock and balls pulled downwards by chains and weights. The offenders were gagged and often kept blindfolded. Women got the same treatment, only endured double impalements and weighted nipples.
In time, K was able, through a series of accidents and mock good will on the part of the court, to leave the town. She did, with little mo
re than the clothes on her back and a few dollars in her pocket. Two threats motivated the town governors to permit her escape: First, there was a constant threat of overpopulation and that was the real key to K gaining her freedom. The second issue was that the town fathers were not unhappy to rid themselves of this annoying woman who seemed to revel in their punishments. Because the town had strict limits as to how hard the penalties could be, the governors felt hamstrung by what they decided was a dangerously masochistic, submissive and difficult woman. The activities of the cult were, on rare occasions, questioned by accidental passersby who stumbled into the community while seeking a shortcut or just being completely lost. Signs at the perimeters of the town threatened fines and or imprisonment for uninvited trespassers, but the occasional visitor usually found conditions in the town less than attractive and quickly retreated after being given free maps and directions to other, more welcoming regions.
Strangely, once away from the brutality of the cult and safely living and working in a distant city, she found herself physically and mentally yearning for the punishments, some of which she had no desire to again endure, but still found stimulating in her memory. She knew, for example, but had not experienced, the breast-beatings merited by exposing too much or too little breast in public. She had endured, on more than one occasion, a public flogging with a common horsewhip. One time it was three lashes and another time, when she made an unacceptable comment to one of the town officials about the taxes she had to pay, she received five lashes on her bare back and buttocks. Both beatings were devastating and she was unable to work for weeks afterwards. But Katrine knew that she felt differently about these brief punishments as opposed to the lengthy session in The Pit and the below ground cells of the jail. In some cases, she actually favored the beatings, mostly because they were quickly done and over, whereas the other resident punishments often lingered for days or even weeks and could be taxing on her health if they lasted too long or an especially sadistic overseer happened to be in charge.
In public, K actually enjoyed wearing the heavy Punishment Robe, the twenty-pound yoke on her shoulders and chains as the outward evidence of her misdeeds. But under the robe she was forced to wear a steel and leather corset/harness that served as a constant reminder of her sins. The harness cut into her sex and compressed her breasts with leather-covered, adjustable metal bands around the base of each breast. It was put on her forcibly by three severe women who obviously enjoyed taunting and hurting her and when they were done, K was little more than a pain-wracked, naked, young woman who was taken to the town jail and chained in a small cell with only a blanket and a straw mat on the floor. The corset/harness was unrelenting and made sleep and movement almost impossible. With hands and feet chained to rings in the floor, K lived her seven days of punishment alone and in mixed pleasure and misery, promising herself that as soon as she could, she would quit this crazy congregation.
She remembered the first offense and standing before the ten-person court, her hands bound behind her with handcuffs that were too tight, a thick rubber bit gag in her mouth and shackles on her ankles. This was standard uniform for offenders in the town and they wore these restraints until the court decided on the verdict and punishment to be handed down. Her crime, that time, was leaving the enclave alone and going to the nearest market where she bought a bottle of wine, drank all of it and then wandered about until the town police came and took her back home in chains.
Her sentence was a week in the sewage plant, working in the most disgusting area, cleaning the circulation apparatus that helped break down the raw, solid sewage. Chains on her neck, hands and feet kept her in her workstation day and night. She got an eight-hour sleeping break and was fed twice daily. She was gagged, except at feeding time, and allowed no visitors. In handing down this sentence, the court judges warned her that any further infractions of the town code would be more stringently punished. She wondered what that might mean, but the gag kept her from asking. K spent her sleeping time with hands chained behind her, high up on her back, and fastened to the wall of her tiny quarters in such a way that she could not touch any part of her body other than her high back and shoulders. For her, this was the worst of the punishments, for she was unable to play with herself and this frustrated her greatly. The chains were all part of the complicated picture of wanting to feel the punishment, the discipline and the pain...all interlocked with her nearly constant sexual needs and desires.
K knew exactly what this was all about. She read extensively and by the time she left the town and took a job fifteen hundred miles away in Chicago, she considered herself fully cognizant of her personal psychological and physical aberrations. She knew exactly why she had been sent away from the town, but since banishment was one punishment option, perhaps the court officers realized that one of the most hurtful things they could do to her was to send her away forever. The overpopulation ploy didn’t seem to make sense to her. She found a good job with excellent pay and benefits and soon discovered that her only real motivation was the money, which she saved. As soon as she had several thousand dollars in the bank, she quit the job and, after surveying the internet and newspapers for flights, chose Amsterdam because it struck her as a society that might accept her and her personal interests.
Now, out of the blue, eight thousand miles from home and Chicago, K had been forcibly abducted and kept prisoner by yet another sect or cult in Holland, somewhere outside Amsterdam. It was, she realized, something she could have perhaps conjured up in her head at night, while lying in her bed in her Chicago condo, but would never have expected such a thing to actually happen. She wondered, however, if by some crazy circumstance, this group knew of her past and had, as unlikely as it might be, taken her because they knew all about her needs and desires.
The long weekend of torture and sexual abuse ended, but her ordeal as a captive stretched into weeks. They told her little, except that the group was pleased with her and had no intentions of releasing her when it seemed clear that no one missed her. She told them, when the gag was removed, exactly what her situation was and they in turn arranged for her baggage to be claimed at the hotel where she was to have stayed. A few Euros here and there closed the door on anyone worrying about why an American woman booked the hotel room, had her bags sent there and then failed to show up. The abductors who went to the hotel provided the front desk with her documents and identification, saying that Ms. X had changed her mind and gone on to Paris and that they would pay any outstanding bill with the hotel and forward her luggage. That was weeks ago.
Although it would have depressed and worried an ordinary young woman, the daily routine was not especially onerous for K. When she was removed from her cell, it was only for one of three reasons: to be whipped or beaten, to be forced to perform sexual acts with men or women, or to endure the endless lectures in Dutch in the freezing and darkened auditorium beneath the museum. Chained to a bench, K and other prisoners watched pointless slide shows and films while they listened to bombastic harangues about sex and slavery. This was, K thought, a bit odd, since Holland had for years been known as a sort of sanctuary for liberal attitudes about sex and related activities. The red light district of Amsterdam was an international tourist attraction and recreational drugs banned in most other countries seemed to more or less flourish under The Netherlands’ open policies and laws. But things were changing. Immigrant populations with opposite religious beliefs and considerable power in the government slowly drove the sex clubs underground or outside the city limits. Many residents also felt that it was simply a matter of time before the whores would leave as well. Even without knowing a word of Dutch, K got the message, such as it was. Her captors were training her for other things in a new, emerging Dutch society and the lectures were really nothing more than additional punishment to get the points across.
One afternoon, she was taken from the cell, given a shower and allowed to brush her hair, then gagged and blindfolded, bound tightly in rope and then redundantly chained,
loaded into a van and driven some distance. By the time they opened the rear door of the truck, the sun had set and it was raining. Spring had come to Holland and the rain was not objectionable as her escorts directed her into a huge building that turned out to be a terminal where the trams and streetcars were serviced. They took her to one tram, lifted her up the steps into the interior and then forced her into a tiny coffin-like enclosure in the center of the car. This small enclosure was common on the trams and street cars and in the past housed a single ticket seller whose sole job was to watch as people got on and off the tram and make sure that they had their ticket. If they didn’t have a pass or ticket, this person in the booth sold them one. The new pass system was eliminating the old one and ticket sellers were being replaced by ticket machines. The coffin-like closet had many straps and metal clamps inside it. They bound K with these until she could not move anything except her fingers and toes. Her head was enclosed in a combination rubber and metal helmet that kept her totally gagged and blind. Even her helmeted head was secured so that she couldn’t move a fraction of an inch. She felt something being inserted into her cunt and something else clamped to her nipples, then the door was shut, bolted and locked. K did not resist the restraints, but wondered exactly what this all meant. In one part of her head, she actually relished the bondage. As usual, K enjoyed the reality of being helplessly strapped and silenced with hundreds of people likely to pass within inches of her, not knowing that behind the wooden door of the tram, was a naked, gagged, hooded impaled and captive young woman slowly working the dildoe in her crotch until she brought herself off in the darkness.
Bondage a la Carte Page 8
