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Chapter 13
God! she was magnificent! A perfect blend of weakness and strength! she has a low threshhold of pain — screaming and writhing so sensuously in her torments, crying buckets of tears! Withstanding the ungodly agony of the needles under her fingernails, only to pass out as I inserted the big needle through her breast. Just goes to show: the mind is a bigger wimp than the body.
I read her journal entry the next day, thinking maybe the water sports thing at the end had damaged her resolve. What she went through, after all, is pretty tough stuff. I was pleased to see that once again my original assessment was correct. she hated it, and she loved it, as I knew she would. she was able to assimilate it into the reality of her situation, which is that she has no choice but to endure it. So far I have not had to remind her of the absolute finality of her commitment. She seems not only to have grasped it, but to relish it. Of course even if she changes her mind, I will never grant her her freedom. She will die as my slave or she will be sold, but she will remain a slave for the rest of her life. That's what the Contract says and that's what it means.
Logan and Jason were particularly impressed by anna's performance and we agreed that it would be fun to devise a party that tested all four of our slaves at once: tatyana, oriana, mya and anna. It was just a matter of finding a convenient time. Logan had some ideas that called for an outdoor venue, so we figured we'd better wait until spring. That gave us plenty of time to plan.
In the meantime there were lots of opportunities to play with our pretty toys, even though anna was maddeningly conscientious about behaving flawlessly at the table and everywhere else, depriving me of opportunities for delivering further severe punishments. I guess I had overdone it; she had really learned her lesson. However, this was the time of year when the Club outdid itself with special theme events. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, New Year's Eve, Valentine's Day.
Halloween was particularly fun. I joined forces with Logan and Jake to set up a really diabolical exhibit. Logan's Ukranian acquisition, tatyana, was the centerpiece. She was hanging from the middle of a long bar suspended from the ceiling, her wrists chained to the bar, her legs splayed apart with chains bolted to the floor. Chained to opposite ends of the bar was anna on her left and julie on her right, both in strappado, their arms lashed behind them at the wrists and elbows, and pulled up by the chains so tautly that they had to bend forward and stand on their toes. Actually, they were standing tiptoe on only one foot because we had tied cords from the big toe of their other foot to clamps on tatyana's nipples and had shortened the cords so that it pulled that leg up off the floor, forcing them to balance awkwardly, trying not to tug too hard on tatyana's tortured nipples. For her part, tatyana was straddling a triangular beam with a broom at one end, one point of the triangle biting into her cunt. she could hoist herself up off it by her wrist chains to relieve the pain, but that increased the pull on her nipple clamps and would last only as long as her trembling arm muscles could stand it . To add to her misery, every time she sank on to the "broomstick" again it closed a switch which sent a shock to copper electrodes strapped into anna's and julie's vaginas. They, in turn, were miked so that if they made any sound as a result of the sudden intense pain, it triggered a voice-activated switch that sent an equally brutal shock into an identical copper stim strapped into tatyana. The resulting dance among the three as they tried to spare each other from the painful shocks was marvelous to watch and drew a great crowd. tatanya, her arms tiring more quickly with every round, would drop on the sharp edge of the triangular broomstick which would send a painful voltage into the other two girls. They would gasp and jump, their suspended legs jerking downwards as they lost their balance, provided tatyana with the double agonies of a shock deep in her womb and a fierce pull on her burning nipples. she would cry and writhe until she could summon the presence of mind and strength to pull herself back up off the sharp edge of the triangle. All three made a stupendous effort to minimize the frequency of this chain of events, but it was hopeless.
For the Christmas party I devised a rather charming display that turned anna into a Christmas tree base. I laid her face up on a wooden platform with her arms stretched out beside her. I nailed leather straps over her wrists and arms to hold her in place. Then I raised her legs up, over her head and down to the other end of the platform, spreading them wide and tying her feet down to the platform. This position left her doubled over with her sex high in the air and open for business. Earlier in the day I had fashioned a wooden dildo with a hole in the base. I now pushed the dildo deep into her cunt and inserted the trunk of a small plastic Christmas tree into the hole. To stabilize it, I ran some guy wires between the tree and the platform on one side and anna's nipples on the other. Boxes of ornaments were placed around the display and the Club members and guests were invited to decorate the tree. It was a simple but beautiful exhibit. Even anna liked it, admitting that it was the least stressful display I had ever designed for her. she practically raped me that night in her effort to show her appreciation.
Actually, anna had been putting gentle pressure on me to allow her to have regular admission to my bed. It's the one topic that kept recurring during her nightly free speech sessions.
"Master," she would say, "i love you so! It means so much to me to feel your body next to mine. Please let me sleep with you more often. You may whip me harder during my nightly punishments, if you like, and i won't complain if i can just shed my tears on your pillow and feel the warmth of your breath on my neck. Please, dear Master!"
That sort of thing is hard to resist.
Another subject that kept coming up was her desire to be able to let me know when she was really horny and wanted sex. (The rule was that only I could initiate sex, whether with me or anyone else.) I gave her two silent signals that would allow her to transmit her desire while assuring her of humiliation if I chose not to accept. If she wanted straightforward sex, she would have to lie on the floor in front of me and spread her legs wide. If she wanted doggie style sex, she would have to get down on her elbows and knees and point her ass at me. Humiliation or not, she did it often. Horny little slut!
As to the increase in her bed privileges, that, I told her, would depend on how well she performed during the special springtime party I had planned with my friends. She practically jumped up and down promising me I would not be disappointed.
anna's journal, January 2
If only Master's ingenuity for the Exhibition Hall at the Iron Collar Club were always as sweet as the Christmas display. There was pain, of course, in staying tied down in that position for so long, but the sensations inside my pussy as the tree was jostled when the ornaments were attached was extraordinary and made me cum right there in front of everybody in the hall. It was a little embarrassing, although i'll take embarrassing orgasms anytime over the kind of pain i suffered with julie and tatyana during the Halloween exhibit. Oh my God! i still remember the pain of those shocks deep inside me and how hard it was not to make any noises when they hit, or give in to the burning in my legs so i could hold my left leg up longer to spare tatyana's nipples and stay up on my right toes to spare my agonized shoulders.
And last night's New Year's Eve exhibit was no better. Master had ordered me to string together a whole box of clothes pins spaced about three inches apart. i knew what they were for, of course, and that it was REALLY going to hurt. Being forced to contribute to your own torture creates a special apprehension that's both exciting and terrifying, like having to haul that heavy wooden cross on my knees the length of the beach knowing it was for my own crucifixion. Meanwhile, Master was welding together a heavy iron triangle, about three feet to a side, with an iron collar on one point and iron shackles on the other two points. He welded a ring to the center of each side.
At our display station in the Exhibition Hall of the Club, Master had me strip naked and lie down on the floor where he clamped the iron collar around my neck and locked it in place with bolts. He did the same with my ankles, bolting the shackles in place. He put iron cuffs on my wrists and padlocked them to the rings on the two sides of the triangle between my head and feet. This left me with my legs bent and spread wide, my knees close to my hands, my back somewhat arched. He spent a few minutes amusing the other Masters by tipping me into a sitting position, then on to one side and then the other. When i complained that the hard tile floor was hurting my back, He stuffed a rag in my mouth and covered it with several windings of duct tape around my head. To punish me for my whining He left me on my back under the heavy iron triangle for half an hour where I could only roll a little from one side to the other for relief. But at the official opening time for the exhibition he hung a block and tackle from a ceiling hook and connected it to the ring between my feet. Then He hoisted the triangle up, suspending me about three feet off the floor. I was mostly inverted and was swinging freely, spinning at the slightest shove. He took one end of the string of clothes pins i had prepared and clamped the first clothes pin next to my left nipple. The rest of the chain of pins went into a sack which He hung from a safety pin He pushed through the outside of that same breast. Oh my God, did that hurt! A sign was set up (which i had also been required to make on the computer) inviting every passing member and guest to attach the next two available clothes pins to me. You can guess where the first two went. After that the pins marched in circles around both tits, down my middle, around my navel and down to my wide open sex, crowding along the inner and outer labia on both sides, then continuing down and up my inner thighs, then up my right side under that arm, then back across my burning breasts and down and up the other arm and back to my boobs, where the supply finally ran out. All this time i had kept a death grip on the side bars of the triangle, straining to hold myself up so i could at least relieve the bite of the iron collar and shackles into my flesh. By the time the bell signaled the close of the exhibition period, between the burning in my arm muscles and the increasing agony from the endless pins i was in tears. There's no use trying to hold them back; Master likes to see that He hasn't been too soft on me.
Everyone gathered around for the grand finale. i did my best to prepare mentally for what was coming next, but there's no way! Master did the "zipper" by taking the end of the connecting string and running the length of the hall. As the pins ripped off, i screamed through my gag and kicked and thrashed in my iron restraints from the terrible pain that roared through my body like fire following a line of gasoline! i guess i must have put on a good show because as my spasms quieted down to shudders, everyone applauded.
Now Master says he and four of his friends are planning something even better for the spring. It won't be an exhibit at the Club, He says, and will involve six slaves altogether: Master Logan's tatyana, Master Tom's kristina, Master Peter's pixie, and Master Jason's two slaves, oriana and mya.
It will be fun to see pixie again. Back when i was in training, Master and i used to hang out a lot with her and her Master, Peter Arnson. i guess he's kinda rich because they've been off on a long cruise around the world, dropping in at bdsm clubs in a dozen different countries. Master had said Peter might sell her at one of the slave markets in Thailand or Cambodia. Trade her for a younger model. But i think He was just trying to scare me. His way of letting me know i'm expendable. pixie is a cutie pie. she's probably 5'1 and in her late twenties. Can't weigh more than a hundred pounds. she's what i think of as a "black Irish beauty." she has flawless alabaster skin, pure black hair and clear blue eyes. A cute little voice, too, almost like a child's. In fact, you might mistake her for a child except for her luscious boobs and pubic hair. Unlike the rest of us whose Master's make us shave clean, her Master likes to snuggle in that thick, black, neatly trimmed triangle.
mya still scares me a little. she's so big and strong! 'Course there's that time she tricked me into pissing on the floor when Master was punishing me. But i have to say, she was exciting afterwards when we were all on the bed. she told me later that Master had ordered her to make sure i peed on the floor so that i would be thoroughly humiliated, and that her Master had ordered her to do whatever my Master commanded her to do. So i can't blame her. As a proper slave, i would have done the same. Furthermore, she was very gentle and kind to me during that awful punishment party. So i guess i should give her a break.
oriana is her physical opposite. Maybe that's what Master Jason had in mind when He bought her. The contrast. He started out with dainty little oriana, who's an inch shorter than i am, and added statuesque mya later. Bought her from a Master at an S&M club in Virginia. It must be interesting alternating between elf and amazon. i find them both incredibly sexy. i happen to know from personal experience that mya's a sexual tiger, and although i haven't been with oriana yet, i've given Master some not-too-subtle hints that i'd like to.
As for kristina, she and Master Tom, along with pixie and Master Peter, were among my very first friends in the lifestyle. i'll never forget how kristina took that terrible beating with the belt to show me how brave a slave must be, then gave me my first experience in girl-girl love. she's a sweetheart!
Master has given no clue as to what the spring ordeal will be, but my deepest hope is that i'll surpass all His expectations so that He'll allow me to sleep with Him in His bed. O God! Let Him test me to the death, if only He will accept me into his bed! Well, almost to the death. What's the use of sleeping with your lover if you're dead?