Chapter 6
The black man and woman took Beth and me in tow. They were kind enough
to let us go to the bathroom when we came upon one. I tried, during that brief
stop, to engage Beth in conversation, but her response was to tell me I must not
speak unless directed to do so.
We finally arrived at a set of double doors. Entering, I found what at
first glance appeared to be a nice cocktail lounge with a stage for
entertainment. It took only moments to see the differences, starting with the
lounges where chairs would normally be. It was after eight PM by then, and the
place was about half full, perhaps twenty five or thirty men and women.
The place was circular, with a bar on the outer ring, then two steps
down to the lounge level, then another two steps down to the stage level. We
were ushered down an isle toward the twenty foot wide stage, with heads turning
to follow our progress. I heard a woman's voice say, "This is what's fun, you
never know when you might get to see some unscheduled entertainment."
As we neared the stage I saw a metal and leather gynecological table, or
at least it resembled one. A closer look disclosed differences, including a
number of straps. Instead of fixed stirrups, it had mechanical legs with
several straps attached.
Just as we were reaching the stage I heard the door behind us burst open
and a chattering of voices. I looked back to see two young girls, mirror images
of each other, bounding into the room like school children going to recess.
They wore their blonde hair in pigtails, and aside from skimpy bikini panties,
they were nude. Their baseball size breasts had the hardness of recent
appearance, standing high and barely quivering as they pranced into room,
giggling and nudging each other when they caught sight of us.
We were taken onto the stage and the black woman held my arm as her
companion moved Beth under a pair of cuffs dangling on a chain from above. He
fastened her wrists and the chain began retracting upward. Her arms were drawn
above her head, slowly stretching her lovely body, lifting and elongating her
breasts into an exotic display. She groaned as all her weight shifted to her
bound wrists. When she cleared the stage floor the chain stopped, leaving her
trim figure swaying gently.
Because of the bright stage lighting I couldn't see into the audience
very well, but could tell by brief glimpses and happy noises that the young
twins were cavorting among the audience members.
The black couple turned their attention to me and the audience noises
died down. Without warning, both of them reached to the top of my new summer
dress, and in moments it lay in torn pieces around my feet. Catcalls greeted
their violence, and I stood in stunned silence, too shocked to react. My bra
went next, this time unfastened and roughly pulled away, leaving my firm tits
standing out from my chest with no hint of sag. My skimpy panties suffered the
same fate as my dress, tearing easily from my hips to expose my furry cleft. My
forced nudity was enough to make me light headed, but I had a more secret source
of humiliation, and the fear of its discover pushed me over the edge into
darkness.
I became aware of light first. Then came a trapped sensation, coupled
with the sense that something was terribly wrong with my body. My eyes flew
open, gazing at my dollar size brown aureole and thimble size nipples. I
realized that my head was lower than my body, and I was laying on the strange
table, strapped by my waist, thighs and ankles. Even my arms were strapped at
my sides. What horrified me most was the position of my legs. Held fast to
mechanical arms, they spread so wide it felt like the tendons in my inner thighs
were trying to tear through the skin. Thankfully my knees were bent, saving me
from torn hamstring muscles, since they could never withstand so radical a
spread if my legs were straight.
"Oh, good, she's awake!" I heard a childish voice exclaim. Turning my
head, the two little pig tailed blondes stood clutching each other's arms as
they looked at me. Looking past them, and more toward the foot of my table, I
saw Beth still swaying above the floor, her eyes looking at me when the slow
twisting of the chain brought her around toward me. The black woman stood
beyond Beth, holding a long handled whip with numerous dangling tails in her
hand.
Once all this registered, my stomach knotted with the certainty that my
secret would be discovered the moment any of them looked closely, for I could
feel the cool air against my widely spread inner tissues.
The girls came beside me, smiling and giggling once more. One said,
"Doesn't she have nice titties?" The other agreed as both reached out and
started exploring my tits, one to each of them. They were rough, squeezing and
kneading, then pinching and twisting my nipples. Like demented nymphs, their
giggles suggested light hearted play, when they were actually inflicting
deliberate pain. If I had any doubts, they were put to rest when they went on
to slap my tits, laughing at the way they compressed, then rebounded to wobble
back and forth before coming to rest.
The black man interrupted their play, saying, "Come, girls, you have a
long job ahead, and you are to be finished before the one hundred strokes are
completed."
With shrugs and pouting expression they abandoned my abused tits,
leaving the nipples hard and pointed. I looked over to see the black couple
stripping Beth of her heels and stockings, while the twins ducked under my legs
and turned their attention to my crotch. I cringed, waiting for their
discovery, assuming laughter and ridicule would soon follow. I looked at the
forceps in their hands with trepidation, but was spared their attention by the
loud "splat" of nine strands of leather against naked flesh. Like children,
they couldn't resist turning to watch after the first blow landed against the
backs of Beth's thighs.
They didn't strike the second blow until her legs stopped writhing, and
after the second lash popped against her naked buttocks, the twins turned back
to me. As they bent forward to inspect my pussy, I cringed as both pair of eyes
grew wide. One of them exclaimed, "Oh, wow, look at her big clitty! She must
be really hot." It was actually in its normal state, but it lessened my
embarrassment for them to think so.
Clear into my teens my mother had insisted on frequent inspections of my
genitals to, as she put it, "Make sure you stay clean and pure." Her
inspections had included running her finger in and out of my hole to make sure I
was intact, and she would often make comments about the whorish size of my
clitoris, telling me how abnormally big it was, and warning me to keep my hands
away from it, lest I become a sex fiend, or worse.
Their fingers were the first to touch my clitoris, and they explored it
thoroughly, rubbing, stroking, and pinching. I couldn't stop the little traitor
from responding. In moments I was gasping and struggling to keep my hips still
as the knob grew thicker and emerged like a baby's finger from its abnormally
generous hood. "Oh merciful heavens," I thought, "I'm going out of control.
Stop it, just put your mind somewhere else."
My chest was heaving with arousal beyond any I had ever experienced, and
I felt relieved when the black man shouted, "Right now, girls!" They moved
their fingers away, and the fear of losing control slowly diminished.
The first pair of forceps clamped down on a few stands of hair above my
pubic mound, and I felt the shiny jaws pull slowly upward. The pain grew as
skin tried to follow hair, and when it could stretch no farther the follicles
surrendered. "Oooww," I cried, a burning pain stabbing at the patch of bare
skin.
The two happy little sadists went at their task, the goal apparently to
make the loss of each hair as painful as possible, and the lower they went down
my groin, the more sensitive the skin. This method allowed no opportunity for
adjusting to the pain, because the pain kept getting worse as they moved to the
mons, labia, and finally to the super sensitive skin below my vagina. I began
to lose my voice by the time the last hair was gone. When the tears cleared
enough to see, I looked down in horror at my baby bare pussy crease, mortified
at the way my clit poked out from the red, swollen lips. For no understandable
reason it was even more erect than it had been when they were touching it, and
with no hair left around it, the sight was obscene.
Beth was hanging limp, her chin resting above the cleft of her breasts,
inches above where the last kiss of the whip struck. Most of her skin was now a
vivid red, as though she had overstayed a day at the beach. She was dripping
sweat, and even her bare genitals and inner thighs were wet.
