NICOLE: JOURNEY OF A SLAVE
By Chales E. Campbell
CHAPTER 20
THE LUNCHEON
slut and Bryanne left the clothing store and drove down Broadway to the West
Village. Unable to find a parking place for the car, slut double parked in front
of Mickie's Tack Shoppe and told Bryanne to run in and pick up the package that
had Elaine O'Shea's name on it. Bryanne did as she was told, and was back in a
matter of minutes with a shopping bag and a large cardboard box. slut hit the
trunk release and popped the trunk open for her to stow the packages.
Bryanne got back in the car and said, "I'm starving. Can we go to lunch
now?"
A curt "yes," was all slut said, putting the car in gear and heading for the
dreaded TriBeCa location.
"You seem nervous, slut. Upset even. Is something wrong?"
slut let a few minutes pass before answering. "I was here a few months ago,
and it was one of the hardest nights of my life. Have you ever heard of The
Ring?"
"No. Should I have?"
"I guess not," slut replied, before recounting her experiences at the
restaurant when her then Master, Sir Campbell, used her for His initiation into
the secretive organization of slave owners. When she was finished with her
abbreviated version of the events of the ceremony, Bryanne had been stunned into
silence.
Finally, Bryanne whispered, "do you think Ilsa expects me to do the things
you have done? I mean,.....the floggings with those fishooks, the knife scars on
your breasts, the beatings,......I,...I don't think I could stand it."
"Mistress wouldn't have those expectations of you, I'm sure. She is just
giving you some preliminary training for your boyfriend. Not everyone who's into
the scene does it 24/7. I didn't really become a 24/7 slave until Sir Campbell
gave me to Mistress Ilsa. And even then, it was only because whore was going to
die. No. You have nothing to worry about like that. I'm sure Mistress wants you
to see some of the things that are done to me. That's all."
The rest of the trip downtown was passed in silence, as Bryanne thought of
what they had said, and slut ruminated over what was to come.
Slut pulled the Jag to the curb in front of the Bistro that belonged to The
Ring, and immediately, a uniformed valet opened the door for her. Upon seeing
the ring through her septum, he called out to the doorman, "I have an initiate
her. Bring me a leash!"
The valet put a finger through her nose ring and lead her to the sidewalk.
"Stay," he ordered! He opened the door for Bryanne, who couldn't help but notice
how he examined her nose as well. The doorman re-appeared with a dog leash,
which he handed to the valet. He clipped it to the nose ring, and handed it back
to the doorman. "Escort them in, please," he said to the doorman. "I'm going to
park their car. I'll be back in a minute>"
The doorman gave a pull on the leash and lead slut, followed by Bryanne, into
the restaurant. Bryanne couldn't see at first dim to the dim lighting in the
vestibule. The maitre'd asked, "an initiate and guest?"
"Yes, that's right," the doorman answered. "What would you like me to do with
them?"
"Leave them to me. I'll seat the guest and find a suitable place for the
slave."
"Very well," the doorman responded, as he tied slut's leash to a tethering
ring at the desk, and went back outside.
"What's your name, slave, and to whom do you belong," the maitre'd inquired?
"my name is slut, and I am the property of Mistress Ilsa."
"Who initiated through you?"
"I belonged to Sir Campbell, and was His initiate."
"Is anyone expecting you today?"
"I'm not sure. My Mistress told me to come here for lunch. There were no
further instructions."
"Very well then," he said, then turning to Bryanne, he asked, "and what is
your name, Miss?"
"My name is Bryanne."
"Please follow me, Bryanne, and I will seat you for luncheon." He picked out
a menu and wine list, and was about to guide her to the restaurant, when he
paused. He put the menu and wine list on the desk, and untied and removed
slut's cape, leaving her just in her heels. "That's more like it," he said to
no one in particular, and he picked up the menu and list again and lead Bryanne
through the dining area into the back room, which was reserved for Ring members
and their guests only.
Bryanne walked through a leather- paneled door into the private dining area
of the restaurant. She glanced around the room and saw that there were people
seated at three tables, eating and chatting quietly. In the middle of the room,
on a raised stage, she saw an old woman, possibly sixty or better, naked and
chained by her wrists and ankles to a pair of posts. Heavy weights hung from her
sagging breasts, causing them to pull flat against her stomach and droop to her
waist. She also wore heavy weights on her pussy lips which stretched the lips at
least eight inches down her blue vein covered thighs. The elderly slave was
beating hard, and sweat covered her body, which had obviously just undergone a
brutal lashing. Welts criss-crossed her from shoulder to knee in front.
The maitre'd pulled out a chair at the table closet to the stage and held it
for Bryanne as she sat down, facing the stage. "Would you care for something to
drink while you wait," he asked?
"May I have a white zinfindel, please," she asked, never taking her eyes from
the spectacle on stage?"
The waiter brought her wine and said, "Good afternoon. My name is Mark, and I
will be your servant today. Our specials are listed on the back of the menu.
I'll give you an opportunity to read the men, then I'll be back to explain our
dishes. In the meantime, please feel free to avail yourself of out slaves of the
day. They are here for your enjoyment. I have been told that another one will be
joining us momentarily." And saying that, he turned and went back to the public
dining room.
A woman from another table stood suddenly and announced, "My turn!" She
strode purposefully to the stage and looked the old slave in the face. "What a
pathetic whore you are, granny! Look at your tits. They're disgusting!" She
picked up the weights and lifted the flat breasts above the slave's shoulders.
The old woman moaned softly at the pressure on her wrinkled nipples. Without
warning, the woman dropped the weights, snapping the breasts down fast and hard.
Unfortunately for the slave, the weights held fast to the nipples, and she
shrieked out in pain.
"There, there. Did that hurt, you old bitch? Those tits look like they've
taken a lot more than that over the decades!' Let's see what more they'll take."
The woman walked over to a large wooden chest, and pulled out a rod about
three feet in length and just about the same thickness as a pencil. She pulled
on it, testing it's flexibility, and stood before the old slave, taunting her
with it. "Give Me a number, slave."
"Whatever would please You, Mistress," came the stock answer.
"I'll not let you off that easily, you sly old fox. I want to hear it from
your own lips. Choose! How long will your torture last?"
"If it would please You, Mistress, may I have twenty?"
"A wise choice. Wise indeed! Not enough to make you give up hope, yet, still
enough for Me to have some fun. Let's make it twenty-five then, shall we? Of
course we shal! Count for me, and thank me appropriately."
She stepped back and took careful aim, as the switch slashed through the air
with an evil hiss and hit the slave's right nipple. A suppressed moan was
replaced by the obligatory, "one, thank You, Mistress."
A second slash hit the same nipple and brought a quick inhale, followed by,
"two, thank You Mistress."
Blows three through ten followed on the same nipple, cutting it and knocking
off the clamp and weight. Blows eleven through twenty were dealt likewise to the
left nipple, giving it it's equal due. The final five were delivered to both
breasts together. When she was through, the old slave hung limply from her
wrists, her legs having long given out under the strain. Blood dripped slowly
from both nipples and began to puddle on the floor at her feet, as she sobbed
quietly.
As the woman returned to Her table, the door opened, causing Bryanne to turn
her head abruptly and see slut being brought into the room, naked. The maitre'd
lead her up on stage and then went over to the wall and began to lower a steel
frame which hung from cables on the ceiling. When he had it down to the floor,
he ordered slut to lie on her back across it. He deftly fastened her wrists,
ankles, and head to the leather bindings built into the frame, pulling her arms
and legs wide apart, and holding her head as far back as her neck allowed it to
go.
When he was sure he had fastened her tightly, he went back to the winch and
raised the frame and slut to until she was suspended about three feet from the
floor. Then, the maitre'd left the room.
Bryanne tried in vain to catch slut's eye, but the position of slut's head
made eye contact impossible. Her waiter returned at that moment, and said, "I
thought we had a new one coming in."
He walked over to slut and caressed her breasts and pussy. He gave a playful
tug on her clit ring as he unzipped his pants with his free hand. He pulled his
rock hard cock out and slowly introduced it to slut's open mouth. "Suck it," he
commanded!
slut began to draw on the hard penis, as he drove it to the back of her
throat. He pushed as far as he could, causing mucus and spit to drool out of her
mouth and into her nose and eyes, smearing her mascara. The tempo of the thrusts
increased as she gagged on the swollen cock that banged into her tonsils.
Finally, with a loud groan, he came, shooting his sticky cum into her mouth.
"Drink it, cunt."
Slut swallowed, licking her lips appreciatively. The waiter put his pants
together and approached Bryanne's table. "Have you found anything that tempts
you?"
She ordered a salad and a bowl of the soup de jour, and asked for a second
glass of wine. "Please help yourself to the entertainment. They're here for your
amusement, miss."
