Rachel 7
Our third party at Brian's big house on the hill was another surprise.
Rachel dressed in an off the shoulder white blouse and a longish skirt with
elastic at the waist, no underwear. At the usual wine and cheese gathering,
before the real action begins, I surveyed the guests. Art, the masochistic
lawyer was there. Aubra, dark, middle aged, was a regular. Julie and Iris, the
virginal school teachers, came together. A foursome arrived, "Vixen," a tall
woman with close-cropped hair, a slender blonde who was introduced as "Rose,"
and two middle-aged men, "Stan" and "Dave." Brian made the newcomers sign a
statement agreeing to the house rules: no unprotected sex, no liability or
blame, no talking about the parties outside of church, and an immediate
cessation if a person says "elephant."
Since I was to assist Brian, I went with him and Madeline to dress. First,
of course, we all undressed. Brian gave me a monk's robe to cover my nakedness.
Madeline dressed as a nun, with a light, loose, floor-length black covering and
a nun's wimple which covered her hair and neck, so only her face showed. Brian
wore a more elaborate outfit, suggesting, perhaps, a bishop. "Just play along
with what I tell you to do. I trust you realize this is all in fun; we don't
want anyone hurt." When we went downstairs, the others had already entered the
inner chamber. Vixen had then all shackled to the wall; it had been converted
from a brightly lighted clinic to a gloomy torture chamber again. The sound
track of screams was playing. The light was only candles. There was new
equipment, medieval looking, this time.
Vixen was a shocker. She wore black boots, black tights, and a shiny black
plastic bodice with bright, shiny spikes decorating rigid, conical tits. I was
reminded of the way Rachel's mother, Priscilla, used to dress, before I "cured
her" of her sadistic behavior. "Your eminence," said Sister Madeline, "these
prisoners have all been denounced for heresy. Some may even be witches. We
must examine them." "Brother, Sister," said Brian, "Prepare the prisoners."
Sister Madeline and I went down the row of victims, examining the padded cuffs
Vixen had put on their wrists and ankles. Rachel flashed me a smile as I
checked hers. I squeezed her breast, through the cloth of her blouse. We left
Rachel and Aubra, Julie and Iris, shackled to the wall, to watch the fate of
Vixen's victims.
Vixen, released Stan, and led him, like a tame puppy, toward the middle of
the torture chamber. She put a leg spreader on him and hooked his wrist cuffs
to ropes from the ceiling. When Vixen cranked on the ropes, Stan was suspended,
two ropes holding his arms apart, with his spread legs inches off the floor.
Dave was put into rough wooden stocks, which held his ankles. His weight was
supported by a bar under the lower crease of his buttocks, a bar supported by
two low stools. His hands were raised above his head by one of the ceiling
ropes. That left Art, Rose, Rachel and Aubra, still chained to the wall.
It seemed to me that there was some tacit agreement that Vixen's victims
were hers to play with; Sister and I would not participate in their
interrogation. Brian pointed at Art. "Yes, Your Eminence," replied Sister, and
the two of us got Art stripped down to nothing. Sister brought out one of the
old padded saw horses, which now had a greased rubber penis-like cylinder
sticking up out of the cross bar, like the one on the saddle of the infamous
horse. We sat Art on it, Sister making sure the prick slid easily in his ass
hole, not tearing anything. Art's feet were chained to two of the horse's legs.
Sister fitted an uncomfortable leather cock restraint over Art's penis. If he
had an erection, it would squeeze his cock rather uncomfortably. But then, Art
was a masochist. She put a strap around his arms and waist, holding his arms
straight down at his sides. Meanwhile, Vixen had strung up Rose, with her arms
raised and her legs spread. Vixen placed a belt around Rose's waist. She led a
chain from the belt, just by Rose's navel, down between her legs. Vixen
attached the chain to one of the overhead ropes and pulled on the rope. The
chain between Rose's legs lifted her feet off the floor, until Rose was
suspended, her body approximately horizontal, her spread legs hanging down, well
clear of the floor. I imagined the chain must be grinding painfully against
Rose's vulva, but she didn't cry out. Vixen then went to Stan, who hung
X-shaped in the air. She took a piece of silk and gently drew it across his
face and body. Stan's prick leaped to attention; he must have loved silk. I
noticed that the screams, over the sound system, had been shut off. The
silence, only heavy breathing, and Art's spluttering, was spooky. The candle
light, casting deep shadows, added to the effect. His Eminence stood by,
watching Sister torture Art. Sister was applying a water torture to Art. Water
was leaking out of his ass; I saw that there was a hose leading to his saw
horse, pumping him full via the rubber penis in his ass. Sister held his head
back and poured water down his throat. From time to time he coughed and
spluttered, but he managed to avoid drowning by swallowing the water, and I
thought his stomach was actually bulging out. "The Inquisition, you may
remember," said His Eminence, "had rules about torture. No blood should be
spilled. They dislocated joints, broke bones, burned and crushed the prisoners,
but The Church would not draw blood, for that would be a sin. Purifying water
was a common way of inducing a heretic to recant." Art looked miserable, which
is to say, he looked happy.
I heard a crack, and looked to see Vixen lashing at Rose with a cruel
looking whip. Pink welts appeared on Rose's buttocks, her legs, her back, and
even on her breasts, which seemed to catch the end of the whip when her back was
lashed. His Eminence watched carefully, had a quiet discussion with Vixen, but
he did not stop the lashing. Stan's cock was wrapped in silk, which was
actually tied with a bow. He received several blows on his backside, and I
could see his semen suddenly soak through the silk. Then Vixen went to work on
Dave, in the stocks. She put her high-heeled boot in his crotch and pressed her
spiked brassiere into his flesh, in between severe lashings. Rose, was visited
by Vixen again and beaten again, rather severely, was writhing as she hung by
her hands and the chain between her legs. I looked between her ass cheeks and
saw that she was very wet, and her wriggling was her way of frigging herself
with the chain. Her outer lips were loose on either side of the chain. I
guessed she must have a hooded clitoris, or the pressure of the chain would have
been excruciating. Stan got another treatment, his unbound penis standing tall
as Vixen abused him, even prodding his ass hole with the whip handle. Dave, in
his stocks, was quiet. I noticed semen, probably Dave's, splashed on the toe of
Vixen's boot.
Sister motioned to me to help with Art. We lifted him off the prick in his
ass and let him spew out the contents of his bowels, a messy business. Sister
and I left him lying on the floor, puking clear fluid and dribbling from his
rear, while Sister hosed him off and cleaned up the area. A drain in the floor
accepted the shitty water. Sister sent him to the shower room.
It seems all of Vixen's victims had come, one way or another, and we
released them, sent them to the showers. Rose, thin, blonde, covered with red
welts, with her vulva bruised beyond belief, hobbled toward the showers,
apparently happy. I don't get off on pain, and I can fuck Rachel any time I
want, so I guess I don't really understand why Rose and Stan and Dave get off on
being abused by Vixen. Maybe they love her, and crave her attention. Well, it
takes all kinds.
Julie, Iris, Rachel, and Aubra, all of them chained to the wall of Brian's
torture chamber, had witnessed the tortures of Art, and Dave, and Stan, and
Rose. They must have been terrified, especially seeing Rose suspended from a
chain across her cunt and whipped. The four women stood there, their breasts
heaving, obviously excited, or afraid. Brian, in his bishop's costume,
whispered that witnessing the torture of others would both lower their
inhibitions and make them more compliant. We unshackled Julie from the wall and
gently undressed her. Her face was flushed, as if she had just run a mile, even
though she had been chained to the wall. Sister Madeline hooked up the standard
leg spreader bar, so Julie had to stand with her crotch exposed, and I hooked
her wrist cuffs to one of the several ropes which hung from pulleys in the
ceiling. It held her arms above her head, but left her weight on her feet.
Then we did the same to Iris. Aubra was simply stripped of her clothing and
strapped to a chair. Now, only Rachel was left. I didn't want to see her hurt,
but I trusted Brian and Madeline to accommodate Rachel's fantasies without
permanently damaging her. I knew that, after a childhood filled with abuse by
her mother, nipple rings, studs through her labia, whippings and enemas, that
Rachel had fantasies of reverting to her childhood ways. I loved my wife; I
couldn't cause her real pain, but here... I pulled her skirt off. With the
elastic waist, is slid off easily. The blouse, too, slid down over Rachel's
breasts and hips, stretching easily. For a few seconds, I admired her body, and
I snuck a kiss on each nipple. I surreptitiously stroked her naked labia;
Rachel still made me shave her pubes at least once a week.
Sister led Rachel to a strange torture device, a cage made of iron strips,
a kind of two-piece basket, roughly in the shape of a woman. His Eminence
directed that she be placed in the "iron maiden," and Rachel stepped into the
cage. Sister swung the halves closed and latched them together. Rachel stood
there, very beautiful, I thought, with about an inch or so clearance between her
naked skin and the iron bands. Sister poured water over her, until Rachel's
skin gleamed in the candle light. His Eminence, Brian, handed me a short stick
on a wire, like a microphone. The end had a round sponge on it, dripping wet.
I tasted the liquid; it was salt water. "Insert that in her vagina," he said.
I figured salt water wouldn't hurt her, not like turpentine or something, so I
gently knelt, parted her labia with one hand, and gently pushed the sponge in as
far as it would go. Rachel looked down at me and smiled again.
"Heretics, you have seen the instruments of torture. You may avoid further
pain by recanting now. Abjure the devil and embrace Christ!" No one spoke.
"Let the torments begin. They will recant." Vixen came back in, still in her
absurd dominatrix costume, and stood there, hands on hips, watching. Rachel
simply stood there, still as a statue. She was in no pain. Perhaps this was
Brian's way of letting her play the game without really hurting her. Her
"torture" was being made to stand still, naked in the cage.
His Eminence directed my attention to Julie and Iris. "Brother, these two
are suspected of witchcraft. Witches have sexual congress with the devil, and
he leaves his mark upon their bodies. You must examine them, very carefully,
very thoroughly, to find the devil's mark. Examine every crevice of their
bodies." I knew that at our previous parties, Julie and Iris had been spared
having any man touch them. To have me do so would, indeed, be a torture for
them, but I also knew that His Eminence orchestrated these sessions to satisfy
the participant's fantasies, to arrange for them to experience things they could
never let themselves indulge in without the "excuse" of the game. I went to
Julie, first, and looked into her eyes. I couldn't read her expression. I
started by examining her head, very carefully, lifting her hair with my fingers
and examining her scalp, for a possible hidden mark of the devil. Then I did
the same for Iris. I knew the two young women shared everything: apartment,
clothes, fantasies. From time to time, I looked up to see what was happening to
the other "heretics." Rachel still stood still, staring ahead, sometimes
watching what I was doing to Julie and iris. For her, the discipline of
standing perfectly still might be a form of torture, but I was satisfied that
she was all right. She could always call, "elephant," if she wanted to stop. I
continued my examination of Julie and Iris. Julie mewled a bit as I explored
her arm pits, tickling her. Iris, as I did the same to her, smiled at me. I
examined their breasts very carefully. Julie's hung down somewhat, rather a lot
for one so young. Of course, I had to lift each breast and run my finger along
the crease underneath to make sure there was no hidden devil's mark. Iris had
breasts like orange halves, neat hemispheres. I gently fondled them, stroking
them, blowing on them, until her nipples became erect. It didn't take long to
examine their backs and bellies for the devil's mark, though I stroked the skin
as I carefully looked. Then I started on the feet, spreading the toes, tickling
the soles. Rachel still stood, motionless, in her iron maiden. I worked my way
up Julie's legs. Julie squirmed, as if to avoid my touch, as I ran my hands
over her ankles, her calves, her knees, her thighs. She could not, of course,
move very far or avoid my attention. I breathed heavily on her inner thighs. I
peered into her navel. I did not touch her sexual organs. Ever equitable, I
repeated the examination on Iris, lingering to stroke the silky skin of her
thighs, pale, never exposed to the sun. Iris didn't squirm, she cooed. When I
had finished with her navel, I went behind her and spread her cheeks, fondling
them, running a finger up and down the crack between them. I lightly touched
her puckered little anus, and she twitched, but said nothing. "If you recant
now," I said softly, "the examination need go no further." She said nothing. I
moved to her front. Her legs were far apart. I stroked the inside of her
thighs, felt her sartorius muscles, which stood out, because her legs were
spread so far apart. Her pubic hair was light brown and not curly, just wavy.
Carefully, I parted the hairs, examining for hidden marks, breathing hotly on
her crotch. I looked up and met her eyes. She stared back, and there was a
flicker of a smile. Gently, I parted her outer labia, exposing her inner labia
and the pink membranes, which gleamed with moisture. Very gently, with my
finger tips, I parted her slick inner lips and saw, not surprised, that she had
a hymen, more or less intact. I inferred that, when she had her period, she
used sanitary napkins, not tampons. Again our eyes met, and the corners of her
mouth went up. I fingered her little clitoris, which seemed to swell. I ran my
tongue over her inner lips, as I held her outer lips apart, and I licked her
clit. Then I kissed it, and sucked gently.
Well, I knew that Julie expected the same. Julie's bush was dark and
curly, but sparse. I discovered a small mole on one of her outer lips. "Ah
ha!" I said softly, "this may be the devil's mark." She bucked backward, until
the rope which held her hands pulled taut. I continued my examination. When I
parted her outer labia and examined her inner lips, I noticed that Julie had no
visible clitoris, It was hooded by the pink membranes of her lips. It is a
common enough thing, analogous to a tight foreskin on a penis. It still works
as a love button, but it is not as sensitive as a naked clit; it needs a bit
more stimulation. I glanced up at Julie's face. She was looking down at me
with intense interest, I thought. I spread her inner lips and peered into the
depths of her vagina, using my fingers to spread the walls, as there was no
hymen sealing the entrance. When I looked again into Julie's eyes: no smile,
but no reproof. I licked her hooded clit lightly, just to be fair, since I'd
done it to Iris. Then I placed a fingertip firmly on the bulge and massaged her
love button through its covering of delicate tissue. Julie sucked in her breath
and whimpered softly. I continued, watching her cunt dampen with lubricating
juices and deepen in color. "Uh," she said, "elephant."
At the signal to stop, I did. I stood up and whispered to her, "Do you
need to be untied?" "No," she replied, "just please don't do that." I turned to
His Eminence and said, "This one has a small mole, possibly the mark of the
devil. The other one," I said, pointing to Iris, "cannot possibly be a witch,
for she is a virgin. She might, however, be a heretic." "Quite so, Brother. We
will attend to them later."
I turned my attention to Rachel, meeting her eye and smiling at her. She
seemed to gather her courage, and she moved, for the first time. Her ass cheeks
brushed the iron cage, and she recoiled sharply. Her breasts bounced against
the cage and she shuddered. Aubra shrieked. I had forgotten Aubra, who had sat
quietly, strapped to her chair. Now she was gasping, sweating, looking as if
she were on the verge of an orgasm. I turned back toward Rachel, and saw her
convulsed in her cage, bouncing off the iron bands. Then, suddenly, she gained
composure and stood, quietly, looking as if she had just finished a bout of
particularly violent sex. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and her erect nipples
danced as she tried to get her breath. Aubra, too, was quiet.
"Your Eminence," I said, "I am concerned about these prisoners." "It's OK,
Brother," he said. We released Rachel from the cage. Still trailing her
"microphone cord," she went to Aubra, and the two of them whispered to each
other. I saw then that Aubra also had a wire leading out of her cunt. Iris
called out, "Sister." Sister Madeline went to attend to her. His Eminence
conferred with Aubra and Rachel, then with Sister Madeline. Madeline said to me,
"Brother, please, just sit down and watch, or you can go sit in the lounge, if
you would prefer."
I sat on a saw horse and waited to see what would happen. Julie and Iris
watched, too. Rachel unstrapped Aubra from the chair and they both lay down on
a mat which Sister brought out. She handed Aubra something on the end of a wire
and came to stand by me. His Eminence watched, too. The candle light shone on
the two women, Rachel, young and trim, Aubra, older but still beautiful. Lying
side by side, they tentatively touched each other. A finger to the nipple here,
a stroke of the ass there. Soon they were in each other's arms, rolling on the
mat, tangling the wires from their cunts, and obviously in the throes of
passion. "Unguh!" cried Rachel, "Oh, I can't stop coming." Aubra was equally
excited, maybe more, writhing and thrashing, kissing Rachel's breasts, rocking
her pelvis and twitching. None of us had ever seen anything like it, passion
unlimited, the two women babbling with ecstasy. It was Aubra who broke contact
first, fighting herself free of Rachel's embrace. The two of them lay there,
panting, utterly spent.
"What was going on?" I asked. "Tell you later," said Brian. Madeline was
bringing out another mat. "Take off your costume," she said to me, as she began
to release Iris from her bondage. "OK, lie down on the mat." Madeline rolled a
condom down over my rampant prick. Then she led Iris to me. "Brother," Iris
said, "I have sinned. As penance, I desire you to chastise me with thy rod."
"Iris, do you mean what I think you mean?" I looked at my condom clad penis.
"You want to give up your virginity?" "Yes," she said. "You have a hymen. It
might hurt." "Do it, Howard," called Rachel.
I lay on my back and drew Iris down to sit on my thighs. I reached down
and fingered her cunt. She was very much aroused, dripping wet. "When you feel
you want to," I said, "you lower yourself onto this." I rubbed my penis against
her belly. "If it hurts, you can stop any time." She moved forward, kneeling
with her knees either side of my body. She took hold of my rod and eased
herself down, steering it between her labia. I put my hand over hers and showed
her how to rub the tip of my tool up and down her groove, so it stimulated her
clitoris. She sank lower, steering the tip between her inner lips, where it met
with some resistance. Then she dropped, impaling herself on my rod and crying
out with a little yelp of pain. Almost immediately, she began to bob up and down
on my prod, rocking her hips, moving back, forth, and sideways, as if to stretch
her tight vagina to its limits. It felt great, and I gritted my teeth and tried
not to come, until I saw the blush on her breast, felt the spasms of her vaginal
muscles, and I knew she was coming. I couldn't help unloading into her. "Oh,
that was good," she sighed. "I didn't know it could be so good." She bend
forward and rested against my chest, her tits mashed against me by her weight.
I put my arms around her and held her.
Madeline intervened to ease my prick from Iris's sheath, pulling on the
condom so as not to spill a drop of my semen. "No, don't take it out," Iris
protested. "Now, Iris," said Madeline. "House rules. Only safe sex. You don't
want to get pregnant." "I don't?" sighed Iris.
Rachel and Aubra had been watching. Rachel gently lifted Iris off me and
took her aside, saying soothing things I couldn't hear. She kissed Iris. Aubra
released Julie, who had watched the whole thing while still "hanging" from the
ceiling. With her cuffs removed, she approached me and said, "Brother, I have
sinned. Will you chastise me with your rod?" "I don't know if I can." Rachel
said, "Go ahead. I'll help."
Julie whispered to Brian and Madeline. They led her to one of the padded
saw horses. She bent over it, with her ass up, Madeline stroked between
Julie's legs, even held a vibrator there. Rachel licked my penis clean, while
Iris watched. At Rachel's suggestion, Iris helped, and soon my tool was ready
again. Iris took my hand and led me to Julie. I could see that Julie was
drenched; she looked like she had already had an orgasm. Vibrators work great
on hooded clitorises. Madeline applied a fresh condom. Rachel urged me on.
Iris helped Julie to get her cunt at just the right height, while Brian held
Julie's upper body, held her by her tits, so she wouldn't slip off.
I slipped into Julie from behind. Iris actually put her hands on my ass
and pushed. With the women encouraging me, I pumped and pumped, pushing into
Julie as hard as I could. Julie went crazy, crying, "Oh, oh, I love it! Oh, do
it. Harder. Oh, harder." I had more staying power than I had with Iris, and
even when Julie's cunt muscles spasmed with an orgasm, I still stayed stiff.
"More," she cried, "I want another one." Finally, when Julie was writhing with
the ecstacy, I unloaded into her with a groan and a sigh of relief. "No, don't
pull out," she cried, but Madeline made me, and again she pulled the condom
free, just to make sure there were no leaks. Rachel handed me a vibrator, and I
held it against Julie's hooded clit until she came again and again, finally
crying, "Elephant."
Afterward, Brian and Madeline, Aubra, Rachel, Julie, Iris, and I sat around
upstairs. We had showered together and dressed. Rachel came and sat on my lap.
She had no underwear, of course, and as she often does, she guided my hand up
her skirt, so I could hold her affectionately. "Explain to me," I said, what
was going on between Rachel and Aubra." "Rachel," explained Brian, "had
told me about how you disciplined her mother with an electrical dildo up her
ass, and Rachel wondered what it would feel like. We came up with the idea of
the iron maiden, and the idea was that Rachel could control the shocks by
touching or not touching the cage. Aubra wanted in on the game, so we wired
them in series. Aubra was sitting on conducting cushion, wet with salt water.
The current would go through the cushion, into Aubra's ass, through the muscles
of her vagina, into the 'microphone,' which was just like you put into Rachel.
It would flow through the wire to Rachel, through Rachel to the cage, and back
to the power supply, a complete circuit if, and only if, Rachel was touching the
cage. When Rachel shocked herself, it also shocked Aubra. Of course, Aubra
would never know when she was going to get zapped, which made it more exciting
for her. The problem was, the current was so strong that it half-paralyzed
Rachel. She couldn't control herself, couldn't break the circuit."
"I'll say," said Rachel. "That first jolt made my cunny clamp down like a
vise, and my ass burned where it touched the iron, and all the muscles in my
lower body contracted, I think. When my tits touched the iron, it was worse.
Well, better, in a sense. It felt like everything between my crotch and my
belly button was cramping. I suppose it was like labor pains."
"When I saw what was happening," continued Brian, "I shut off the current,
but then Rachel and Aubra wanted to experiment. It was easy enough to change
the connections, so the circuit was completed when Rachel and Aubra touched. I
gave the control to Aubra, so she could adjust the current to as little or as
much as they liked."
"It was great fun," said Aubra. "Turned down, we'd get just a tingle,
where we touched each other and also in our cunts. Turned up, the effect was
much stronger. Rachel was fingering my cunt, just tingles, when I turned up the
juice, and we both had the most violent orgasms!" We should have 'microphones'
at all our parties."
Julie and Iris left, promising to be back next month. As we were going out
to the car, Rachel said, "Do you think we could get 'microphones' for us, to use
at home?" "My love," I said, "I don't have a cunt to put it in." "Ass hole!" she
said. Yes, it works in ass holes, too.
