"Lois is having a party?" Clara asked excitedly. "A coming out party," Wil answered. "For her, and you."
"We're hardly the debutante type," Clara pointed out as she followed him out of the apartment.
"Uh, how many people are going to be there?"
"I don't know. More than just the four of us. I think the usual ratio is three escorts for each deb."
"Who… are the other men?" she asked.
"You'll see."
"A debutante party," Clara mused. "So that's why I'm dressed like this." Wil had specified a formal, the one she had worn to her high school prom, when she had lost her virginity. She wondered if there was any particular significance to that.
"Are there any other debs besides Lois and me?" she asked.
"No, but there will be other girls."
"Now, no more questions," Wil ordered curtly as they reached the subway.
The ride downtown seemed to take forever. Clara felt exquisitely conspicuous in the strapless formal, since Wil was wearing casual clothes. He had refused to let her wear a coat. As a result, she was aware of every passing breeze, every glance at her creamy shoulders and throat.
The dress had been a little small when she had first worn it the year before. Now, her more fully developed breasts bulged up from the cups. She had three crinoline petticoats on under the full, knee-length skirt. She sat very straight, intensely aware of the curious stares she was getting. She twisted her white-gloved hands in her lap as the train rattled through the black tunnel.
"Come on," Wil ordered, hurrying her up the stain of the Fourth Street Station and out under the theater marquee on Sixth Avenue.
"Are we late?" Clara, skipping nervously along. The chill wind was cutting her exposed flesh, seeking up under the full skirt, brushing her panty-less pussy intimately.
Wil glanced at his watch. "We're right on time." At Lois' door Clara fidgeted nervously, and realized she needed to use the toilet. The door opened at last, and Lois dragged her inside, past Grant. Clara had a few final moments of peace and quiet as she used the toilet. Then, stripping off her gloves, she rejoined the others in the living room. From the closed door of the big studio came the muffled sound of laughter and music.
Lois too was wearing a strapless formal. Hers was a dramatic jet black. It was the perfect foil for her pale blonde beauty. Her hair was coiled up on her head and pinned with onyx and silver needles. The cups of the dress pressed her full, round breasts in and up, produced an exciting cleavage.
"You ready?" Lois asked.
Clara nodded tensely.
The studio, with its wall of mirrors, slanted windows and ballet bar, was dim and mysterious. All the people were strangers. They were all casually dressed. Along the wall with the mirrors and ballet bar stood the remains of a buffet. Obviously, it had not been intended for her.
Two pieces of rough cut lumber, each about five feet long and four inches square, hung vertically from chains in the ceiling. The bottom ends were about two feet from the floor and were anchored by similar chains.
Fascinated, Clara stared at the spot-lighted lumber. Because she and Lois were the only ones formally dressed, they stood out just as the lighted wood did.
"No drink," Clara said when Wil offered her a brimming glass.
"You'll need it," he said.
Clara shook her head tensely as fear knotted her throat. "No drink." Whatever she faced, she wanted to face it stone cold sober. She wasn't sure whether it was because she didn't want to miss anything, or as an experiment.
Two men broke away from the crowd and flanked her. She saw two other men join Lois. She cast a lingering, defiant, fearful glance at Wil as she was led away from him, toward a spot-lighted pillar.
At the columns, she and Lois were turned to face the rest of the gathering. The men took her hands, drew them behind her. She felt the rough splintery wood between her wrists. As her shoulders were drawn back, she felt the overhead spotlight spilling down on the exposed slopes of her breasts. Had they used a sun lamp?
She felt rough, harsh loops of rope binding her wrists. In seconds she was helpless. The column of wood was between her back and her bound wrists. Turning her head, she looked over at Lois. Her eyes were glittering with excitement. Her lush body was drawn taut. Her tits were almost falling out of the small bod ice of her gown.
Then Clara turned to study the audience. Everyone seemed to be commenting on her and Lois. Clara's pussy began steaming just from having her wrists bound. Pear gnawed away at her guts, fed her lust.
Grant nodded curtly toward Lois. Her two escorts reached between her and the post, and unzipped her dress. Pushed by the impatient thrust of her jutting breasts, the bodice surged outward.
Lois was as naked under her formal as Clara was. In a moment the dress crumpled around for her feet and the spotlight caressed her lush, creamy curves. Lois made no attempt to shield her body from the audience, not that she could have. Her full breasts rose and fell excitingly as she breathed.
Clara's chest felt like it was wound in steel cables. Lois was staring at the watching crowd. When Clara's escorts reached for the zipper of her white, virginal gown, Clara, too, turned her attention to the guests.
She didn't flinch as the zipper was edged down to the curve of her ass. She didn't look as the bodice fell away from her tits. Cool air brushed her breasts, dried the tense fear-sweat in the valley. The dress was dragged down and her belly was exposed. Then her navel. Finally, the formal fell around her feet. Daintily, she lifted one foot and then the other, let them remove the dress. Then they pulled off the three petticoats, and she was naked.
She stood proud and straight as the watching crowd murmured, commented on the roundness of her breasts and bottom, the pink of her eager nipples, the hazy brown of her pussy.
A rope was slipped around under her arms, just above her breasts. It scraped harshly against her tender skin as it was slowly drawn tight. She was pulled back until she was pressed against the four by four. Then the rope was drawn tighter. It cut into her, rasped over her, burned her, ground her back against the rough, splintery column.
She looked over at Lois, and saw that she, too, was being cinched tight by a loop of rope. It was strung through a steel ring on the back of the column. The men each held a neatly coiled end.
They began to wrap Lois in rope. They wound it around her, owned it over her breasts. Clara watched as the harsh hemp cut into the lush, full mounds. The men criss-crossed the bindings, formed a rope bra for Lois as they bound her to the lumber. The end of the column dug into the top of her ass as she was lashed tight.
The men didn't stop until Lois was covered with loops, from her armpits to her lower belly. The ropes cut deep into her waist. Her head was pressed back against the post, and she was biting her lower lip.
The men finished, tied the ends to a second ring near the bottom of the post. When Lois shuddered, her belly tippled and her chest heaved against the unyielding coils. Her stiff, rigid nipples bulged out from between the amber hemp.
Clara felt the rope under her arms being yanked tight, and sucked in a desperate, fearful breath. Her consorts began winding the coils, began securing her to the wooden shaft. She didn't look down as the rope cut into her breasts. It angled from the top or one to the bottom of the other. Barely missing her blazing tits, it tore into the soft mounds. She inhaled sharply as the rope was pulled tight. Pressing her head back against the post, she let her lust boil upwards. She loved the pain and the helplessness and the humiliation, needed it to turn her on.
Coil after coil wound around her, dug into her, pound her back against the splintery four by four. She felt the end cut into the base of her spine.
Then, at last, they were knotting the ends behind her, and she shuddered on legs suddenly gone rubbery. She sagged gently, and felt the rope pull against her flesh, against her breasts and her armpits. She glanced down and saw her nipples protruding like little berries. She looked at Wil, and saw the hot desire in his eyes, the enjoyment of her helplessness, her torment. She wondered what would happen next.
When she looked over at Lois she found out. The blonde's attendants slipped a noose around her right ankle and fed the loose end through the ring near the bottom of the post. Slowly, they drew the length of rope tight. Lois was forced to balance on one foot as the other was hauled up behind her.
They didn't stop until her heel was against her ass. Her knee was spread outward by the tension, so her pussy was even more exposed than it had been. She teetered on one foot, and her belly and chest began to heave. Clara wondered jealously if Lois was cuming already.
A second loop was forced around Lois' other ankle. In a moment, both heels were drawn up tight against her ass and she was hanging from the four by four. Her thighs were spread wide. The shaft of wood began to turn towards Clara. Lois' red, aroused, inner cunt lips protruded from her blonde pussy.
A touch on her ankle made Clara flinch. She felt a coil of rope strangle her ankle, and braced herself as the end was drawn up behind her. She teetered precariously as her leg was pulled back until she was kicking her own ass. Then she was left without a leg to stand on. The rope cut into her as it took her weight. She heard the chain groan as the column began to turn slowly.
The combined helplessness, pain, immobility, and shame made Clara's eyes blur with tears, and her cunt drool with horniness. As she hung there, trussed up like a pig ready for slaughter, she felt her twat spasming and gushing. A raging cumming was ripping through her helpless body! She revolved slowly, felt cool air on her aroused pussy folds. She didn't care that her legs were spread wide, that everyone could see her gaping cunt.
Then she felt the men unsnapping the chain that anchored the post to the floor, and wondered what could be next. She began to swing very slowly, like a pendulum. She turned, and saw that Lois' post had also been unshackled. Then, as Clara rotated helplessly, she saw her two men release a rope from a cleat on the wall. Her post shivered, sank toward the floor.
Then, unbelievably, she felt herself begin to rise. The floor sank away beneath her as she was dragged toward the high ceiling. Something groaned ominously as she went up in a series of jerks. The post began to spin. She saw Lois rising beside her, an obscene chandelier of naked helplessness. Lois' mouth gaped open as they went higher and higher, closer and closer to the hot spot-lights that were bathing their naked bodies.
Clara was reduced to a quivering mass. She squeezed her eyes shut, tried not to look down. From below, the ceiling had looked about twenty feet high. Now, from her increasing altitude, she doubled her estimate, though she knew it wasn't possible.
"Oh, God," she moaned as she glanced up and saw the ceiling. It was less than two feet above her. The ropes dug into her, and she felt another orgasm raging through her.
"Clara?" Lois called softly.
"What?" Clara whispered, and squeezed her eyes hut.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh God, I am so scared," she whimpered, trying to clutch the post tighter. "And I love it so much I can't believe it."
"They'll lower us in just a minute," Lois assured her.
Clara kept her eyes closed against the incredible height. "I think I've cum six times already."
"Me, too," Lois answered. "But we haven't seen anything yet."
"You know what's going to happen?"
"Not all of it."
There was a yank on the rope, and Clara felt herself dropping. She screamed. The fall ended with a sudden jerk that felt like it was going to rip the ring out of the post. She heard a curse from Wil, and then she was being lowered slowly. She leaned forward and looked down.
A bench had been moved under Lois. A naked man, a stranger, was stretched out on it. His jutting cock stuck up toward the helpless woman.
A quick glance directly below confined that the same fate was awaiting Clara. She closed her eyes, and felt her cunt sizzle in anticipation.
As she was lowered down and down and down, she waited breathlessly. Then, it was there, the first touch on her pussy folds! For a tantalizing, frightening, stimulating instant she hung motionless. Then she was lowered more, and was drilled by the jutting cock. She felt it slide deep into her swing hole, gutting and stuffing her. The only point of contact between her and terra firma was a hard-on that was jamming up into her steaming cunt.
"Awww," she moaned ecstatically as she was skewered by the towering cock.
The man screwing her gripped her waist and said something softly to the men controlling her. She rose a few inches and his dick slid out of her. Then he began to fuck her, to thrust his prick up into her streaming, gaping pussy. She soared to a raging, towering orgasm as his prick pistoned in her spasming cunt. She was nearly oblivious to his orgasm, to the hosing of her insides with sperm. Then he was gone, sliding out from under her. She swung like a pendulum as cum dripped slowly from her twat.
On an order from the next man, she was lowered nearly to the floor. He didn't tell them to stop until her knees were brushing the slick wood. His cock was right in line with her mouth! The sight of his jutting tool, a shining drop of arousal hanging from its tip, made her mouth and her pussy water. Knowing what was expected of her, she licked out, managed to barely brush his cock. She felt his juices film her tongue.
Then he eased his cock between her lips, and steadied her by gripping the shaft she was tied to. She felt his cock slide farther and farther into her mouth. Her gullet spasmed as she swallowed the waves of spit the invasion triggered. She stroked his pecker with her tongue as he fucked himself on her face by simply swinging her on the end of the chain.
She couldn't believe the sexual pleasure that was raging through her. This was her fate, her goal, her future: to be a helpless plaything. The ropes cutting into her body increased her already monumental lust. She wasn't able any more to separate one cumming from another. They blended together into a single flaring haze of unbelievable rapture.
The cock in her mouth began to spurt. Desperately, she tried to swallow the creamy gobs that were hosing her tongue and throat. He let her capture only the first few globs, then yanked his prick out of her gaping maw. She felt sperm spattering her cheeks and nose, pattering down on the protruding masses of her tits. The unexpected dousing made her lust rage even higher. He wiped his still-drizzling dick on her eyelids, her cheeks, and her nose. He left her whole face sticky and crusty with jizz.
As she hung there, Clara had the feeling she was being slowly pinched to a pulp by the harsh windings around her body. Her legs were on fire from being folded back for so long. The center of her spine felt like it had been rubbed raw by the wooden post. Her shoulders felt like they were being dislocated.
The lust that raged on inside her left her shattered and feeble.
Then, Wil appeared in front of her with a knife in his hand. She thought for a moment that he was so disgusted by what she had become, that he was going to kill her. The idea terrified her, and increased her pleasure. It would be the ultimate experience to feel that razor-sharp blade cut into her.
He severed the rope holding her ankles. The pain when she unfolded her legs were unbearable. She forced her feet under her body so she could take a little of the weight off her chest. She looked over at Lois, and saw that she, too, had the use of her feet again. It was obvious that the big-breasted blonde had received basically the same treatment Clara had. Lois' finely-fuzzed pussy was matted with cum. Globs of semen streaked her face and tits.
Clara swayed woozily. She was still bound to the post, but was standing after what seemed like hours. Then the coils holding her to the four by four were cut, and the stake was drawn out. She stood there before the watching people. Her hands were still bound behind her. Her naked, cum spattered breasts thrust out boldly.
Wil appeared in front of her. His expression gave her the creeps, made her guts simmer. His domination of her was complete. She loved his ropes, the humiliation and helplessness. He could do anything he wanted with her. And they both knew it.
"Come on," Grant ordered. Clara and Lois were escorted to a low platform.
A small hibachi stood on a metal table in front of an open window. A small fan drew the smoke out of the room. The charcoal plowed dully through the powdery white ashes. Two wooden handled steel rods nestled in the coals. The ends were buried in the glowing embers.
"Lois first," Grant ordered. He looked at her. There was fear and unbelievable lust in her eyes. She was staring at the coals as if hypnotized. "Are you going to scream?" he asked.
Lois shook her head.
"What's happening?" Clara asked fearfully, glancing at Wil for reassurance.
"Watch," he answered. "So you can brace yourself for it. I'll be very unhappy if you have to be gagged."
Clara looked back at Lois, and shuddered. Lois' escorts had trapped her upper arms and her legs, spread her open and bent her backwards slightly. A black blindfold had been tied over her eyes.
"It's so you two will never forget who you belong to," Wil told Clara. Fear sweat was trickling from her armpits.
Grant took one of the steel rods from the bed of coals, and eyed the glowing tip. It was a branding iron! Heat waves shimmered off the orange letters.
Lois writhed against the hands gripping her, then relaxed. Her head twisted as if she was trying to see through the blindfold. Clara's guts knotted tighter and tighter as Grant moved toward his helpless woman. Everyone was around the platform, watching hungrily. Clara noticed that all the men had monster hard-ons. The women were licking their lips in anticipation.
Grant moved the glowing branding iron within an inch of Lois' straining gut, down low, near her pussy. From the way she stiffened, it was obvious she could feel the heat. She sucked in a desperate breath, and braced herself against the anticipated pain.
Her teeth clamped down on a thick leather strap. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled and inhaled quickly.
Clara stared, fascinated. She was horrified, terrified and unbelievably aroused by the sight. Grant thrust, held the branding iron against his woman. There was a sickening, sizzling hiss, and the stink of burning flesh. Smoke burled up from where Grant was still holding the branding iron against Lois' pale flesh. She fought the men gripping her, but it was useless. Her head tossed and turned and the cords in her throat stood out as she sank her teeth into the leather bit.
It seemed like the iron was going to burn clear through her. Grant held the searing metal against her gut for what seemed hours. For hours Lois fought the urge to scream in agony as Grant's initials were burned into her belly. Finally, when the branding iron was removed, she gave a gut-wrenching moan.
The blindfold was ripped off her eyes, and someone smeared salve on the charred letters. Lois glanced down at the "GP" and smiled tenderly at Grant.
Then Clara felt her arms being grabbed, and her legs being caught and dragged apart, and shot a look of stark terror at Wil. Terror, and then love, because she wanted to belong to him, wanted the visible symbol of her love burned indelibly into her flesh.
"No gag," she assured him. "Just the bit."
"And the blindfold," Wil said, waving the black cloth.
Clara bit back her protest. She was Wil's to command. The blindfold was obviously part of the terror, part of the symbolic subservience.
He slipped the black cloth over her eyes, shut out her view of the brazier and the branding iron. Her terror rose. So did her lust. She shuddered in the grip of the men holding her. She waited, listened, heard the soft rustle and clink of the coals as Wil took the red hot iron out of the fire.
Then there was silence. Something brushed her lips. She opened her mouth, and the thick leather strap was slipped between her teeth. It was still wet.
Clara clamped her jaw on it, hard. Where was Wil? Why was it taking so long? She turned her head, and listened. She tried to see out under the blindfold, but couldn't. The room was silent and waiting. Where was he going to brand her? She hoped it would be in the same place as Lois, where anyone thinking of using her pussy would see it.
She froze when she felt a wave of heat against her lower belly. She smelled some of her pussy hair being singed. Frantically, she sucked in a desperate breath and tried to brace herself for the pain to come. She prayed it would come soon, and wouldn't last too long.
The touch of the branding iron felt cool for the first fraction of a second. The sound of her own flesh sizzling filled her ears. Then came pain, like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. The pain bored straight through her and into her soul. Her muscles knotted and writhed with bone breaking force as the branding iron burned into her naked gut.
Worse, almost, than the pain, was the stench. Her face was wreathed in coils of smoke from her own burning flesh! Her stomach heaved reflexively, and bitter bile stung her throat. Still sinking her teeth in the leather bit, she fought the vomit down.
The pain went on and on and on, until at last she could bear it no longer. A soft moan escaped her just as she realized that the branding iron had been withdrawn sometime before. The pain was losing its sharpness, fading into a dull ache. She tongued the leather out of her mouth and blinked against the glaring lights as the blindfold was removed. Then, she looked down. She flinched as the man who had tended Lois gently smeared anesthetic ointment over the charred welts of her marking.
She looked at Wil devotedly. When his eyes met hers the love she saw in them made her heart melt and her pussy bubble with desire.
Lois was lying near the edge of the platform. Grant's cock was in her pussy. Her hands were still bound behind her back. The two men who had escorted her since the beginning were hastily stripping in anticipation of their reward.
Clara felt a surge of affection for the men who had been supporting her for so long. When they began dripping off their clothes, she sank down to the floor and offered her cunt to them as Wil stripped slowly.
The first man settled between her thighs, aimed his dick into her streaming cunt, and rammed into her belly. The pressure of his body against her fresh brand only added to her ecstasy. His dick drilled deep into her cunt.
The way her hands were bound behind her back made her uncomfortable, so she kicked and squirmed, rolled him over so he was under her. He grasped her waist, and fucked his cock into her spasming tunnel. She writhed and squirmed on him. The pain from her burn was an added stimulus. Her clit was being ground savagely.
The touch of a cock between her ass cheeks made her moan. She felt a dick push against her bung and fought to let it in. The unlubricated penetration of her asshole felt fantastic. As the dick drove slowly into her tail she had the feeling she was being torn open. She felt like she was going to rip in two from her crotch upwards.
Her lust raged higher and higher as the shaft drove into her greasy rectum, and the cock in her cunt pinched the invading ram, squeezed the thin baffler between cunt and asshole.
"Suck it," Wil ordered. Her mouth around his cock, and everything vanished but the pain from her branding, and the cocks. She had cock in her ass, in her cunt, and in her mouth.
She was a three-cylinder engine of lust. As the three dicks pistoned in her, everything hazed out. She began to cum again. She felt the dicks hosing her with thick semen, flooding her. She floated away an a foaming tidal wave of jizz…