The following is entirely fictitious and intended solely for adult readership.
Please do not continue if you are in any way offended by adult content, or if
such content is not accepted by your community standards. Any further use of
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Author's Note: The following is Part Two of a 4-part series. Part One, "Irena
and Renee Go To Extremes" can easily be found at this site.
F.
From Pleasure Slave to Pain Slut...
Renee pestered Irena with question upon question about the night at the club.
True, the experience there and at her friend's house easily removed any dating
blues she may have expressed in the past, but the subject of her questioning
that Sunday pertained to those others at the club, ones at the seeming mercy of
others. Her curiosity knew no bonds.
Irena put down her iced tea. The two decided that the sunny weather merited a
lunch al fresco so both decided on an outdoor cafe set just off of the
Embarcadero. Behind fashion shades her eyes narrowed and she said, "Those are
called pain sluts. You were merely a pleasure slave." Adjusting the brim of her
straw hat, Irena took another sip of tea and smirked. "Was that not enough for
you?"
Renee hastily leaned over the small table. "No, not at all. Of course it was!
Thank you!" She did not want to offend her friend. "You know with your help I
have forgotten all about the past." She pressed her small hand over Irena's and
gave a reassuring squeeze but it was not apparently enough to appease her
friend.
Irena shrugged. "So my little friend has gotten a taste of forbidden fruit and
now she hungrily wants more. A pain slut, correct?"
"Only with your help. Please...? Please???" Renee blinked her eyes hopefully.
The redhead folded her napkin and tossed a credit card atop the check. Her hand
turned and she held Renee's. She warmly smiled and said, "Okay. We'll meet
tomorrow at one. For now, let's go back to my place."
One of the many perks to owning the business was one didn't have to make excuses
for taking an afternoon off. Irena left her boutique ad agency shortly after
12:30. Ten minutes later, she waited for the arrival of Renee outside of the
entrance to the club.
The brunette, however, have to make an excuse. As the newest lawyer to the firm
she fibbed and told her immediate supervisor that she needed to bone-up on some
legal tactics in the law library at Hastings in preparation for an upcoming
client meeting. The ruse worked and her boss readily agreed. She hustled across
town to meet Irena.
The two went inside the doors. Irena seemed to know her way around the dark
corridors, so Renee followed. She could make out blurry features of the interior
and expecting to take a right, like her only visit to the place before, Irena
pulled her down a corridor to the left.
This way led to a solarium. The door opened to flood the two with bright
sunlight. Weather had been so fair that the ceiling had rolled back. Above,
Renee could make out the taller buildings in the city neighborhood and the blue
sky above. It was a very pretty room.
"Welcome ladies to The Spa," said the white-panted black-haired man inside the
bright room. His teeth flashed and he guided them over near two long tables. His
assistant, another male but blond, also smiled a friendly greeting. The first
man said, "You can take off your clothes here and when you finish, wrap around a
towel and pick a table."
The atmosphere and the two friendly men were so different from Renee's first
visit. She did as told and lay on her stomach. Professional hands massaged her
limbs and back. If this was supposed to be what it was like as a pain slut, well
she should have signed up sooner, she thought, as the hands rubbed scented oils
into her. Her lids closed, any thought of fear fleeting. She relaxed into a
half-slumber.
"That was not bad, was it?" Irena removed her towel and reached for her clothes.
She saw that Renee was aping her move and placed a hand out to stop her. "Not
just yet for you, I am afraid, but you can lose that towel. Lay on your back on
the table."
"What?"
The white-panted spa attendants anticipated Renee's befuddlement. The two men
each grabbed a wrist and firmly pulled Renee backwards. Restraints concealed
along the edges of the table were pulled out and wrapped around Renee's wrists.
They casually pulled off the towel; apparently knowing that no matter how much
the bound nude struggled and heaved her chest, there was no way she could now
get free.
"Now the real initiation begins," Irena said and slowly licked her lips as she
watched Renee's ankles also being strapped to the table. "And you will learn to
enjoy." She was almost completely dressed, pursed her wetted lips and removed a
long needle from a sideboard. "Steady now," she said as she pointed the
thick-gauged steel rod at Renee's right breast. "You do give much to work with,
but who needs to make a mistake?"
Renee tried to keep her chest from rapidly rising and falling. Her eyes looked
down over her sweating cheeks as the needle got closer and closer. A frisson
chilled her entire body as cool antiseptic swabbed a side near the top of her
breast. The first bite of the needle tip burned as it pierced her aureola.
She cried out as the needle broke through the other side. Frantically looking
down, she saw gloved hands wiping away small dabs of blood and a silver ring
inserted into the fresh opening piercing through just above her nipple. She
relaxed her craning neck and laid back, eyes closed, trying to shutout reality
as it was happening. The heavy ring was now both in her and on her. Her crying
reduced to a sob in futility over what was happening, and what she now knew was
yet to come.
Renee spent the next week living at Irena's place. She dutifully endured the
daily dabs of alcohol, necessary she was told, to guard against any infections
in her three newest piercings. The treatments stung at first, but lessened in
intensity as the weekend approached. She dreaded the every-other-day enemas
Irena gave her in the evenings, but submitted to those with a similar sense of
duty. All was required, Irena repeatedly told her, if she was to become a true
pain slut.
More vivid than all, however, where words spoken to her by Irena just after her
clit was pierced and a ring installed. Her friend icily issued what quickly
became an entirely different life for Renee-things like always addressing Irena
as "mistress", never looking her or any other mistress or master in the face,
never speaking unless told to do so, and always being sexually available for any
or all. Renee was nevermore to wear any underwear, even when going to work. And
last, but certainly not least, she was to lose her name and from now on be
referred to only as "slave 6". The plain collar she wore told her as much.
During the day Renee spurned other attorneys in the firm coming on to her even
one of the senior partners. His cryptic smile when turned down only left her
more complexed, thinking that somehow he had really won their encounter. Each
morning she selected clothes that would lessen her sex appeal to others and at
the same time would cloak her lack of undergarments and the rings that tended to
poke through her flimsy blouses. Each workday was spent secretly enjoying her
new status as slave 6.
"Any questions, slave 6?" Irena signaled the man waiting outside of the club's
dressing room that they were about ready.
"Yes, mistress," Renee said as she felt the last of the short belts locked
around her ankle. Her heart was beating fast, her skin flush with excitement and
anticipation. "Will there be others like me?"
Irena thinly smiled and applied more body paint to slave 6's tit. "Of course.
But fear not. Your entrance will be quite unique," her eyes proudly lowered down
her friend's illustrated naked body and rested on the silver ring jutting out
between her thighs. "Show us how flexible you are. Do the splits out flat and on
the floor, NOW!"
She needn't have shouted. Renee quickly complied, and lowered herself until she
felt her toes touch the opposite walls of the small room. The ring in her clit
scraped the stone floor. She shivered once as her opened pussy lips made a moue
on the cold, hard surface.
"Good. Now, stretch out your arms to your ankles. I will use short chains and
connect them to the rings in the ankle cuffs."
Renee did as ordered, and looked up as Irena fastened her arms out.
"Now, hold your head up." Irena slid the patriotically patterned silk across
Renee's eyes and tied the blindfold behind her head.
It was not the same mask, like before. True, she could not see, but Renee still
had more senses than her night as a pleasure slave. She smiled to herself as she
felt something tied through her nipple rings.
Irena lightly tugged the clear plastic tubing threading the silver metal.
Blinking stars within its length reached out to each ankle ring. She then
brought it up, wrapped it around the top of the slave's head, pulled it down her
back, under her parted cunt, and out the front. Nodding to two men, she held on
to the fashioned plastic leash as the slave, now painted and bedecked to
resemble a bizarre sort of human flag, was lifted up by her ankles. "Here we
go."
She gave her blindfolded friend a peck on the cheek as the men and women
maneuvered their way out of the dressing room toward the others awaiting in the
next room.
To Be Continued...
