The Whipping Girl

Chapter 7- New perspectives

He spent the weekend going through his footage, making a montage of the interesting scenes, and planning out where he would install new cameras along the grounds. He knew where he could get hold of some tiny concealable cameras capable of wireless transmission and took a trip to get a dozen of them, as well as three waterproof cameras small enough to hide unobtrusively. He also picked up a new pair of spy glasses and was gratified when these actually looked cool and not clunky like the last set.When he could, he sat by the fence to listen to the women as they cleaned up the warzone aftermath.

"We sold almost all of my stock this time, I’ve never had this successful of a party before and hadn’t anticipated running out of stuff. This new venue is the best gimmick I’ve ever tried, and the investment certainly paid off! I made enough profit this weekend to pay for the mortgage on this house for the next three months. These ladies have large social networks, and everyone left happy, so I’m expecting an even higher demand for the next party."

"Is there any way we can increase the number of guests per party?" asked Angel distractedly. "You mentioned that you had a waiting list going already, and we could have handled maybe another 10 women. I noticed thin crowds at some of the stands, like the willow tree, so I think we could increase the number a little to get more consistent attendance in the less popular nooks.”

That would have been nice. He only had five decent scenes from the dildoberry tree and a few casual visitors that weren’t much to watch. He had envisioned a different slut on each cock with a rotating cast the entire night.

“Do you think Kali would accept if I offered her a more formal job of cleaning, arranging, and setting up my parties? She has quite the talent for it and all of her ideas were great. She was dead on about the podium placement drawing a crowd for the runway. I think that runway sold more outfits in one night than my top ten sale people have this entire year.”

“Yea, she was great. I even heard quite a few ladies talk about how much they loved the tendrils creeping toward them from the nooks. One lady said it was like they were trying to draw her in. I have to remember to tell Kali that, she will really appreciate it.” Angel’s voice had a wry tone to it that only he understood the significance of, since Sabrina had not been around for the sisterly argument about the tendrils. He liked knowing that in this moment he understood Angel better than her own lover.

He hadn’t seen Kali yet this weekend. Her car was gone for most of both days, and when she was home she was avoiding the backyard so she wouldn’t have to help clean up. Good. Every time he thought of that bitchcunt the rage threatened to overtake him. Twice already he had to let off some steam in the cage, which was newly stocked with durable metal food dishes for Kippers.

As the weekend drew to a close, he felt the familiar anticipation set in as he impatiently watched for a time when Kali would get off her lazy ass and leave the house. Angel and Sabrina's Monday morning routine passed uneventfully. He waited to see what Kali’s new pattern would be and was surprised when her stupid towel head came out into the yard with cleaning supplies. She worked quickly and diligently the whole morning, and when she was finished the yard sparkled and looked ready for another party. She went inside and he didn’t see her for a couple of hours. He kept checking, but her car stubbornly remained parked at an awkward angle that forced drivers to veer around it.

Sometime after noon a new car pulled up and two boys got out. One had short spiked blonde hair that made him look like he walked out of a bad anime. The other looked like Kali had dressed him. He was lanky, dressed in black with silver studding and chains. Long greasy black hair hung in his eyes and scraggled its way down his shoulders. The hoodlums tossed spent cigarette butts into his front yard and sauntered up the drive to the house; after a moment they disappeared inside.

He hoped they were picking her up and leaving, but after 20 minutes he saw them enter the camera view in the yard and decided to sneak back out to his spot by the fence. Death metal was already blaring through the speaker system, but that callous bitch had enough sense to turn it down this time so the entire town didn’t have to endure the noise.

He listened to their inane chatter as they skunked up his spring breezes while leaning against the porch rail Sabrina had been cuffed to just a few nights ago. Once the joint burned out the boys eagerly explored the yard, which was now devoid of most of the erotic playthings. The podium had been returned to whence it came, and he watched them come down the runway in a strikingly less sexy fashion than the inebriated whores on Friday. Kali was telling them all about the different nooks and they kept asking her embarrassing questions about Sabrina's products. Kali was somewhat put off by this, but she handled it by sidestepping questions and ignoring their crudeness. Eventually she told them off for it, so their questions became less direct, but still uncomfortably suggestive.

They eventually made their way toward where he was sitting against the fence and he could clearly hear BlondeSpikes ask if they could use the hot tub.

“Did you bring swimsuits?” She asked skeptically. ”I don’t have any guy’s swimming trunks or anything.”

“Naw, I wear boxers and they’re essentially the same thing. I don’t care if I have to go home commando.” said GreaseBall.

“I’m in tighty whities, but so what? We’ll be under the water and you won’t even have to see our skivvies anyway. Come on, it’s a hot tub! We can’t let that go to waste.” BlondeSpikes cajoled.

“Fine," she relented. "Let me turn it on. You guys can get in while I go change into my swimsuit.” She disappeared into the house.

The boys hastily stripped and eased into the hot water, sitting as far apart as the tub would allow. "Twenty bucks says this whore gives me a BJ before we're out of the tub," said BlondeSpikes in a would-be cocky tone that was ruined by an untimely crack in his voice. 

"No way, this chick totally wants me. Didn’t you see the way she was throwing herself at me in the game? She's into the chains and weird shit like that. You’re not her type, so back off my pussy."

"Hey bro, it’s just a bitch, don’t even worry about it. I bet she'd put out for both of us. I mean really, what kind of girl lives in a sex toy store? She’s got to be a major slut."

"Alright, we'll share, but I don’t want sloppy seconds so let me have her first, OK?"

BlondeSpikes assented and went on about all the ways he wanted to defile Kali until she emerged, still fully dressed, a few minutes later. "I can’t find my suit anywhere, and I couldn’t even find where Angel and Sabrina keep theirs. I’m sorry, I guess we'll have to do something else."

BlondeSpikes wasn’t about to let this prime opportunity slip through his fingers so easily.

"So what? Come in naked. You'll be underwater, we won’t even be able to see you."

"I don’t think so. Naked in a hot tub with two guys never ends with intact virginity."

"You're a virgin!?" asked BlondeSpikes incredulously.

"I meant you, obviously," she quipped, looking directly at him.

“Listen, you can just get in with your bra and panties, it’s just like a bikini,” chimed in GreaseBall. ”It’s only fair, we have to swim in our underwear so you should too. You can sit next to me out of reach of the groping virgin if you want to protect his innocence.”

He watched the whorebag strip down to her lacy black bra and panties and climb into the tub with her two johns. She cuddled up next to GreaseBall and he possessively put an arm over her shoulder.

They chattered on about boring stuff for a few minutes, but BlondeSpikes kept bringing the subject back to sex, even though Kali was obviously trying to veer away from it.

In a break in the conversation GreaseBall asked Kali, “So, are you a virgin?”

“Well, no. I’m not. I had a few boyfriends back home before I moved here. Nothing long term but several of the relationships had been intimate,” she said demurely. It figured that she would put out to any guy that looked at her, the dirty skank. She probably fucked them all while they sacrificed goats over a midnight bonfire. “What about you?” she asked. “I know Tyler is just by looking at him.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” BlondeSpikes sounded truly hurt.

“No, I had a steady girlfriend for about a year, but we split up at the end of the semester. She wanted to be free to find a new collage boyfriend. I guess she was just in it for the sex and didn't really care about me, ya know?” he said, letting some of the rejection leak into his voice.

“Aww, you poor guy,” cooed Kali. The bimbo was completely falling for this guy’s obvious bullshit. “She just didn’t know how lucky she was or else she wouldn’t have given you up.”

He used the excuse to hug her close to him, then pulled her on top of him so she was forced to straddle his legs on her knees. He kissed her but relented when she pulled away.

“A bit forward are we?” she asked.

“I thought you might like that, was I wrong?”

“Not exactly, but Tyler is sitting right there. I’m sure he doesn’t want to watch us make out in front of him.”

“No, I’m good. Do your thing. The virgin doesn’t mind a good show,” piped up Tyler, who had been being uncharacteristically quiet through this, like a good wingman should be.

The two started groping each other and it didn’t take long for the lacy bra to be flung out onto the grass. The camera was perfectly positioned to capture Kali’s breasts bouncing as they rubbed against each other. Her silver piercings flashed in the sun like little sparkling gems studding her tits.

After a few minutes of watching them bump and grind, BlondeSpikes grew restless and felt it safe to move in behind Kali. He started groping her breasts from behind and rubbing against her ass. She tried to make him back off, and even tried to enlists GreaseBall's help to defend her, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to be her knight and shining armor in this scene, she reluctantly relented to their pressuring. She was soon being manhandled by both of the boys. Their groping grew more frantic and became less comfortable for Kali. They ignored her resistance and took full advantage of their superior numbers and positioning to hold her between them. When GreaseBall finally managed to get past her panties and penetrate her, she cried out "No!"

"What are you? A tease? You get us both riled up like this and then say no? You can’t just do that to a man you know." He didn’t stop thrusting into her, and eventually she stopped struggling to get away, which BlondeSpikes took as a welcoming sign.

He heard Kali yelp when BlondeSpikes invaded her ass. He was riveted as the slut took both cocks at once, but the boys didn’t last long. The first to finish was virginal BlondeSpikes, who settled back into his original seat to watch Kali bounce on his friend’s cock until, with one final dramatic thrust, GreaseBall climaxed and unceremoniously shoved Kali off of him to get some air.

“See Love, aren’t you glad you listened to me? You almost said no to that.” GreaseBall had an arrogant tone in his voice, as though suggesting he was the God of Fuck. He must have missed the fact that she hadn’t actually come from his clumsy spasms or the two thrusts in her ass from his buddy-boy.

“Yea, it was all I ever hoped for.” she said with mocking sarcasm. “Listen, my sister will be home any minute, and she’ll freak if she catches you two here, so you’d better scram” she lied. It was only 3:30pm, and Angel got home at 5:15pm everyday like clockwork. Her voice sounded smooth and casual, but held no warmth or indication of the perversion she had just committed.

“Alright, we wouldn’t want to get a good girl like you into any trouble now,” said BlondeSpikes wryly. They climbed out of the tub, and Kali made GreaseBall hand her the discarded bra before she would get out. “A bit late for modesty, don’t you think?” he quipped as he handed over the bra.  GreaseBall had shredded her lacy panties to get inside her, and they were no longer effective at hiding her shaven snatch.

GreaseBall grabbed her and kissed her possessively, groping her ass and rubbing against her like a horny puppy. BlondeSpikes tried to do the same thing, but Kali pushed him away and pointed at the gate wordlessly. She stood stock still until the sound of the car engine had faded away, and then burst into sobs.

He couldn't believe that heartless whore was crying. She had just seduced two innocent boys. She had robbed the one of his precious virginity, rejected him when he craved a bit of tender kissing, then tossed him out in the street! He couldn't believe she had the nerve to cry about it. How dare that selfish, callous slut cry? He wanted to shake her until those stupid-sounding sobs quieted down. He was too afraid of alerting her to his presence to go inside, so he held his hands over his ears and willed her to go away. Eventually, she picked herself up and ran inside to blast her death metal.

She stayed inside for the rest of Monday and he didn’t get a chance to install his new systems. On Tuesday he waited, but Kali did not come out into the backyard in a towel as he had grown accustomed to. The morning was uneventful, but around noon GreaseBall’s car pulled into the drive again. This time he was alone.

The yard already smelled skunky by the time he managed to sneak out to his spot, a sure sign of their drug abuse. He opened up the feed from the attic view camera on his iPad and was not surprised to see them passing a joint on the porch. Occasionally they open mouth kissed to pass the smoke between them. They chatted about stupid for an hour while walking around the yard, until GreaseBall took up a position on the purity swing against the far fence. All of the fabric had been taken down, but to him it still retained Angel’s essence. Seeing that black-hearted bitch and her male concubine humping on it, defiling it, he became incensed. He couldn’t make out most of their hushed conversation, but caught enough to realize that GreaseBall was cajoling his way back into Kali’s panties. It seemed his negotiation skills were getting rusty, since he only managed to get her on her knees in front of the swing. He could clearly hear GreaseBall moaning from across the yard, and the sound of Kali choking when her head had been roughly forced down on his cock.

“Come on, you know your way around a cock better than that, don’t you?” GreaseBall teased. “See if you can take all of it down your throat.” He could clearly see GreaseBall's hands on the back of Kali’s head and heard her struggling to breath, then choke, cough, and gag as she was finally released to catch her breath.

“Sucking dick is not your strong suit, huh? How about you let me put it in your ass instead?” he asked, in a mean voice.

“If you don’t want blue balls, you’ll stop talking,” warned Kali as she caught her breath, “and keep your damn hands off my head!” she snapped angrily before going back to work on his cock.

He kept his hands down, but started the swing moving so he could use its momentum to thrust himself down Kali’s throat, which again caused her to gag and choke. She eventually picked up the rhythm of the swing and finished the job without any further incident.

“Ohh, you swallow. I like that.” GreaseBall said appreciatively.

They disinterestedly chattered for a while, and resumed roaming the yard. After a while, he was heartened to hear Kali say “You know, I’ve put out for you twice, and you still haven’t even taken me out on a date. Why don’t you buy me a movie and some dinner and we can call it even?”

“Even? We’re already even. You fucked me, and in return you got to fuck me. I don’t see how I owe you anything. Men never think women owe them after sex, but you get just as much out of it as we do,” he retorted.

“Oh, I got to blow you and that should be reward enough? You don’t honestly think that’s gonna fly do you? Quit being a cheapskate. I’m bored, and I want to see that new horror movie that came out last Friday. I get to see a movie, and you get to watch me see a movie. It’s a win/win, right?”

That seemed to settle it. The dirty prostitute had demanded her payment and the John was forced to put up and be thankful he hadn’t lost half of his home and future earnings. Still, it got the whore out of the house for at least two hours, which should be just enough time.

He gathered his equipment and decided to wait 10 minutes to avoid being spotted by Dr. Rosenberg when he returned to work from his lunch break. He watched the street from his window impatiently until he saw the familiar blue Jetta pass his house. Then, when all other traffic had cleared, he quickly slipped out his front door and casually walked through Angel’s gate. Once inside, he moved with speed and purpose to set up his new cameras. The pool and hot tub had to be first, so that any splashes of water would have plenty of time to dry before anyone returned. Three of his cameras were placed in the nooks that the ladies used as dressing rooms. Two were placed at the tips of branches on the bondage tree facing inward to clearly capture both sides of the trunk. He wanted another wide-angle shot of the yard from a different perspective, and attached one to the gutter on the far side from his fence. He planted one in the tree near the lubricant fountain that overlooked the pool, capturing the hot tub at the very edge.

He could not resist placing one in a tree outside of Angel’s window looking in. He repositioned the bird feeder so that the camera view included the entire porch, the door, and a partial view of the dining room inside.  A flare of anger at Kali for moving it away from the hot tub was momentarily replaced by the memory of Angel arching her back and giggling as a woman drank fizzing champaign from her delicious, overflowing cup. He found a low hanging broad leaf on the opposite side of the stream from where Angel’s hospital bed was last Friday. While placing that camera, he gently stroked himself through his pocket and mentally replayed the scene in which Angel had expertly pleasured a woman in stirrups on this table. He bent down and sniffed the table, then lightly ran his tongue over the slight indentation where the patients sat. He was running low on cameras, but decided it would be worth it to spare one for Angel’s purity swing in case she decided to visit.

He had just enough of them left to get two frontal views of the runway from the waterfall perspective, each capturing half of the yard, and one from the porch rail that should get a great view of their dancing asses and the gropefests at the waterfall. He had just finished placing the last one when he heard the terrifying sound of a car pulling up outside. He looked at his watch; it was already 5:15 pm. Angel was home! What an idiot he was, standing here in their backyard out in the open. Quickly he took cover behind the hot tub and prayed that she would not peer out and see him cowering there. He heard the front door open and then nothing for many long minutes. His heart raced, blood pounded in his ears. He felt fear that she would see him, but also a self-destructive hopefulness that he couldn’t quite understand. He tried in vain to come up with any conceivable excuse to explain why he was hiding in her backyard if she came out and confronted him. The seconds dragged by with no sound. Finally, it dawned on him that he now had eyes inside her bedroom and the dining room, which she would surely have to walk through before coming out to capture him.

He set his iPad to view Angel’s bedroom and there she was. His epiphany had struck just in time to see her pulling off her nurse’s uniform and carefully folding it while wearing nothing but her matching pink patterned bra and panties. After a few moments of careful study, he concluded that the pattern was of roses and lilies intertwining to hold up her soft mountains of milky flesh and protect the secret treasure hiding between her legs. She disappeared from camera to walk into her adjoining bathroom, and reappeared holding a wet white cloth. She was using it to wash down her body while she hastily gathered her school things. She stopped her beeline through the room to wash down her legs. She put one leg up on the bed giving the camera about half of a shot of the panties pulled tight enough against her mound to see the definition of its closed lips. She rubbed the towel all down her leg, bending forward to get her feet so that her breasts hung down around her knee. One of them even slipped a little bit out of the bra, exposing a nipple for a brief moment, until she righted herself. Then she spread her leg outward, brought the cloth up to where her legs parted and rubbed herself with it. She repeated the tantalizing show with her other leg while he sat aching for her, crouched behind her hot tub with his cock in one hand.

When she was finished tormenting him, she quickly donned a white halter top, low cut faded jeans and a wide black belt with a buckle that closely resembled two handcuffs linked together - probably a present from Sabrina. She grabbed her heavy looking backpack off the bed and left the camera's view.

He switched to the porch cam and could see a small sliver of the dining room. A shiver of delight passed through him as he watched her flit through the camera’s view and go into the kitchen. She still had five minutes until her ride arrived but his legs were cramping up and he was starting to feel an uncomfortable sensation growing in his stomach from the unrelieved tension in his groin.

To his horror, she was back in the dining room and heading for the door. He quickly scrambled as far behind the tub as he could get and ducked down, sure she had somehow seen or heard him and was coming out to get him. He panicked and was having a hard time breathing. It sounded to him like his gasps for air were as loud as Kali’s music, and she would undoubtably hear him as soon as she stepped out onto the porch. In desperation he resorted to a chant they had taught him to control his rage. “I am in control. I am the master of my own emotions. I have the power to be calm. I am in control. I am the master of my own emotions. I have the power to be calm.” It didn’t help much. It never really had, but he used it to prevent himself from hyperventilating.

She was on the porch now. He could hear her footsteps on the weathered boards. He was trapped. Cornered, like a shaking rabbit in a hole with the fox bearing down on him. Half of him wanted to sit completely still. The other half needed to stand up and dart away before she caught him. He felt ready to run. Everything was slow motion and effortless. He knew that he could get to the gate before she could even turn her head. It was an insane thought and he suppressed the compulsion. Every second was agony. His cock was still rigid and felt cumbersome as it protruded through his zipper.

“Damn it, Kali,” Angel swore to herself. “Sabrina will throw us both out if one of her guests finds your roaches lying around the porch.” He heard the porch door open and close again. Silence. The seconds ticked by. He didn’t dare move until he knew Angel had left for school and he didn’t hear the car out front. She returned to the porch and stood there for a moment. He couldn’t tell what she was doing because he couldn’t bear to open his eyes and look at the iPad. He was sure even that little bit of motion and sound would be enough to give him away, if his pounding heart didn’t betray him first.

Finally, mercifully, he heard a car pull up and a horn honk. Angel dashed into the house and was gone within seconds.

He stupidly burst into uncontrollable tears as the tension in him finally released. He couldn’t believe how close that call was. How could he have lost track of time like that? He didn’t even think he had been working for two hours yet, but nearly five had gone by. Too much time was lost in reverie over Angel. He would have to be more careful. He had to learn control.

He stopped his tears with a deep breath and got to his feet. Dizziness swept through him, but he shook it off and stumbled to the porch where Angel had stood just moments before. He saw a wet spot on the wooden deck to the right of the door. To his stunned delight, the wet white towel had been carelessly tossed onto the table. It had to be the same one. Did he dare take it? Would they notice if one washcloth went missing? Angel cast it off in haste and has probably already forgotten about it. Was this his reward for enduring the panic and bringing himself under control? It had touched her most intimate places and might still hold a trace of her body heat. Maybe he was meant to have it. He quickly picked it up and held it close to him. It was warm still. He smelled it all over. There was a blackened sooty spot that smelled of skunk and ash, but the corners, at the very edges, had a distinct musty smell whose origin he thought he knew. He could not relinquish this treasure. After double-checking all of his cameras, he made a hasty but careful retreat to spend some quality time with the cloth before it lost all trace of Angel’s presence. He would make sure he soiled it only where Kali’s sooty stain had fouled it to preserve Angel’s pristine edges.

Chapter 8- Improvements on a theme

He observed the yard disinterestedly for the next two days. GreaseBall came by each day to get some pussy, but stopped sticking around to chat afterward, leaving Kali to mope around the yard alone while she did some set up for the upcoming party.

The set up on Friday was much like the last. GreaseBall didn’t show himself today since Sabrina was home, and Kali thankfully had to abstain from fouling up the yard with her skunk weed. Kali moped the entire day, and even tried to engage Sabrina in a talk about her boy problems.

Sabrina blew her off with "Men are all users and losers. He just wants sex and doesn’t care with whom. If you want my honest advice, go find a snatch to lick and forget about the dick."

Kali, like the stupid naive teen she was, argued that Derek (presumably GreaseBall) was different. They had so much in common and were in love.

Sabrina laughed mockingly at that but let it go.

The yard was decorated the same way as last Friday. The only thing that was still absent was Angel's hospital bed. He tingled with anticipation at the thought of her coming home. When he heard the Mustang's familiar purr in the driveway he clutched the now dry and crusted towel to himself as though he were giving her a welcome home hug.

Kali ran out through the gate. A moment later Angel gracefully entered, holding a brown paper bag in front of her which she casually set down on a table. She sought out Sabrina to receive a second welcome home hug and a very sexy kiss under the bondage tree. He was so enthralled that he barely noticed Kali struggling to carry in all of the bags and equipment from the Mustang. Angel and Sabrina walked around the yard as Sabrina excitedly detailed the changes she had made for this party.

"Some of the clientele tonight are a bit on the extreme side. Sumiko and Mary referred me to their club's regulars. These are people she knows and is eager to please, so she insisted that I give them a special night after how much she had talked the party up. Sumiko said she doesn't mind having thinner crowds on Friday nights, since they often are too full for comfort anyway, and that she would gladly share her territory with me. This could be a great collaboration. She has already agreed to come back next Friday and demonstrate how to properly use the Japanese silk ropes. When I asked her if she would do a mini class with tips on basic knots, safety, and comfort she actually seemed grateful for the opportunity to share her knowledge. For free! Can you believe that? A world renowned bondage artist, who also happens to own the largest BDSM venue outside of San Francisco, offered to perform for me, and even teach for free!"

He tuned her out after that as she fantasized about her impending wealth and status in her new location. Angel seemed to as well and was slowly leading Sabrina around the yard as she set out products for the customers. She was busy neatly arranging medical tools on a silver tray attached to the hospital bed when Sabrina's monologue finally slowed.

“Where is Kali?” asked Angel. “I want to be sure she leaves before the guests arrive and they are due in another hour.”

Sabrina looked around then peered over the gate. "Her car is gone, guess she already left."

"Oh, thank goodness. I always have to fight with her to get her to leave. I’m glad she finally took the hint."

"Looks like she finished setting up everything you brought home. That gives us some time to get dressed up. I want you to wear something special tonight for our new clients. Come on, its inside and you might need some help getting it on." And with that tantalizing mystery, they disappeared into the house to let his anticipation build.

The three ladies that next came slowly out onto the porch were dressed in a way he had never seen before. They were more than he had ever anticipated. Just looking at them gave him an overwhelming feeling of power and control, and spoke to his most basic needs in a profound way.

Each was bound in a different fashion. One, a dirty blonde with her hair held back in a tight pony tail, wore black leather binders that covered her forearms up to the elbows. A series of four belts with shining silver buckles strapped her arms together behind her back. Her hands clutched a jar labeled “tips.” Her legs were similarly bound, though these binders laced together rather than buckled. Her mobility was severely limited and he was sure she wouldn’t be able to navigate even the single step down from the porch to the runway.  She was barefoot except for a pair of gleaming silver anklets. The most striking part of her ensemble was the tray she held out before her. It was suspended in front by two chains that stretched from the tray’s outer corners to a ring on the thick black leather collar around her neck. It was held up beneath her breasts by two smaller chains that linked the back two corners of the tray to the rings pierced through her nipples. The weight of the tray pulled her nipples down and stretched her tits tightly, making the sides of her breasts bulge in an effort to hold the tray upright.

The next whore was in an oddly intriguing set up. It was less visually erotic for him, but gave him an even stronger feeling of being in control. She had spiky, short black hair and heavy black makeup around her dark eyes. Her arms were held aloft to the height of her shoulders by a thin wrought iron bar that opened into a thick, rigid metal collar as it passed by her neck on its way to her other wrist. At the moment her hands dangled limply from where they were attached by black leather cuffs on her wrists to rings on the bar; she was also holding a jar labeled “tips”. Her legs were spread wide open by a straight metal bar attached to a matching set of leather ankle cuffs. Much of her face was hidden by the curious gag in her mouth that strapped over the back of her head, making her hair spike out between the straps in a crazy fashion. Held out in front of her nose by the gag was a push broom style brush. Around her midriff, such that her large tits were easy accessible, she held an empty plastic washtub that was affixed to her by violet silk ropes that dug into the skin on her thighs and waist, but left most of her naked ass and cunt exposed.

The third woman had shoulder-length, thick, shockingly white hair with faded black streaks that disappeared into the silver frizz. Her outfit was also interesting, though it covered significantly more than her nearly naked companions. She was strapped into a sexy white straightjacket, leaving her legs bare. Her ankles were held together with sturdy, brown medical restraint cuffs, giving her the most mobility of the group but still fettering her stride considerably. A tip jar was tucked under the straps that secured her arms against her back. She also had a unique gag placed firmly in her mouth. It held a metal tray that was smaller than BinderGirl's and had edges to prevent things from sliding out if she tilted her head.

He hadn't yet finished marveling at the sight of them before he was overwhelmed by a new vision that made him forget them completely. Princess Leia walked out onto the porch. The heavy chain links that flowed from her twisted golden collar tinkled as her movements made them brush across the metallic gold bra that barely contained her milky breasts. On her feet were loose soft skinned boots with large golden laces holding them together in front, and high backs that reached up to grace her sharply defined calf muscles. Two flowing swaths of maroon fabric careened down the precipice between her legs, held against her by a golden metal chastity belt that featured a prominent keyhole. She was finishing up a long braid in her hair and affixing a wide golden clip over the end of it that looked dingy and soiled when contrasted to the spun sunlight that was her hair. She was adorned with smooth metal circlets that snaked and spiraled their way around her wrists, upper arm, and thigh. His longing for her grew too large for his body. He felt himself drowning in it.

She had been talking with the serving girls, setting up scheduled breaks and instructing them on their routines. Though he was aware that the conversation was interesting and that moments ago he would have been riveted, he was distracted by thoughts of dragging Angel towards him on her knees by her heavy chain leash to sit obediently before him.

He barely even noticed Sabrina appear in a new dominatrix outfit, though he did note that she was wearing a black studded-leather eye mask that drew his eyes long enough to get a good view of it. The mask was crafted to resemble a black butterfly with silver spots, illustrated with silver studs at the wingtips. For the first time he got a close enough shot of Sabrina’s face to notice the startling emerald green of her make-up laden eyes as they peered through the eye slits at the table where she was, to his horror, filling Dixie cups with Chateau d'Yquem. Who would do that?

He felt he grasped her motive for destroying a thousand-dollar bottle of wine when she stocked Straightjacket’s mouth tray with 10 of the cups as she gave admonitions to her servants. Angel was tucking various instruments of pain into the servants' outfits. Long black plastic switches were tucked into BinderGirl’s boots, paddles hung from the arms of the straight jacket like Christmas ornaments, and floggers were tied into the ropes around BroomFace to make a bushy tail of them that flared out and draped their leather appendages over the soft bulging flesh being squeezed by the ropes.

“Now remember, if they use it, they bought it, so make sure everything that is taken from you is logged into the order book. The tips you earn are yours to keep, but I ask that you girls find a fairly balance out your takings between you in a way that is mutually agreed upon. These ladies are spenders, and they group-think so they are likely to pick one of your styles and make it more popular than the others.” Sabrina continued her money-centric chatter as Angel checked all of the straps and gear for comfort and safety, then gently lifted BinderGirl down the porch step.

Sabrina disappeared back into the house and came out with a heavy box and a small red velvet pouch that jingled a little as it swayed with her stride. Angel and Sabrina differed in opinion about where to place the box. Sabrina wanted it by the dressing room area for convenience, but Angel made the argument for adding it to the purity swing nook. Sabrina considered the idea, then came to a realization that rationalized it for her.

“Yea ok. When a woman buys one of them she has to either parade it across the entire yard to the dress up nook, or she will put it on under the swing and make a marvelous entrance through the chaste white fabric to a crowd eager to defile her. I like it, let’s go set up the area.”

They had just started the music playing over the speakers when the first guests arrived. A group of five well-dressed women formally greeted their costumed hosts with straight faces. Angel proceeded to give the ladies a tour of the displays as Sabrina greeted new guests upon their arrival. The serving girls teetered their way around the yard bringing Dixie cups full of wine and light snacks of fruit and cream to the milling guests, who could not quite hide their amazement. BroomFace did not have much to do yet and so was simply walking through the crowd with steps labored by the spreader bar that held her legs apart. She shook her ass in time with the music to make the leather thongs splay out prettily.

The burgeoning crowd was already quite impressed by the party, which had yet to even begin.