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First, the standard disclaimer: What follows is a work of FICTION.
If you are incapable of distinguishing fact from fiction, STOP
READING. Go tune in to something harmless and innocuous. This is
NOT FOR YOU. Second, this story features women being exhibited,
humiliated, and disciplined. If this offends you, please leave now.
Really, we don't mind. Finally, of course, the obligatory warning:
Do not try this at home. The activities in this story are carried
out by highly trained fictional characters, with many years of
experience. Attempting any of this in real life will likely result
in embarrassment, incarceration, or being forced to install OS/2
on all your computers. You have been warned. For the rest of you
perverts, those who are still with me, enjoy!
Also, this story is copyrighted by The Chairman in 2006. You may
post this story in other venues, with three caveats: One, if you
do, The Chairman requests the courtesy of an email, with a
URL, so he can see where his work is being used. Two, if you wish to
post this on a pay site, contact The Chairman to make arrangements.
Three, you must keep the disclaimer and copyright notice intact.
Thank you.
email chairman [d-a-s-h] bdsmlibrary [a-t] scubed [d-o-t] org
***
Disciplining Regina
Joe loved his job. He was a security guard (no, now they were called
"lobby attendants") in a large office building, one of those anonymous
fifty floor architectural monstrosities that dot the urban landscape
of so many modern cities. His job was to help people, to find the
bathrooms, or the lifts, or the building directory, and of course,
in this era of worldwide terrorism, to watch for people "acting
funny". In other words, a very boring job.
However, it was coming up on one of the best parts of his day.
Every day, at 11.35 a group of young and pretty women came down the
lifts from one of the hundreds of businesses that called the Bannerman
Tower home and went to lunch together. At 12.25, or about now, they
returned. Sure enough, he saw them walking down the sidewalk in
front of the building, and file through the revolving door, one by
one. And yes, there towards the back, was his favourite. She was
fairly tall, probably five foot nine or so, and had straight black
hair that hung just to her shoulders. She had a nice build, not too
skinny, definitely curvy, but not excessively so. She had nice legs,
and always dressed very professionally, but he sensed that under
that businesslike exterior was a true wild woman. He didn't even
know her name, or which company she worked for.
***
Her name was Regina Abernathy, and she was a writer for "Erotic,
Ink", a supplier of erotica to major internet websites. She was in
the Bondage, Enslavement, Agony and Torture (or BEAT) division,
which she always thought was the sort of acronym devised by people
with no sense of humour. The sort of people who, if they had a pet
raven, would inevitably name it Quotha, and think themselves quite
witty.
She liked her job, really. She had been working there about six
weeks, and had several stories published already. She had even
gotten some nice (and some not so nice) feedback from fans.
There were some things she didn't like. For example, lunch was
always strictly from 11.30 to 12.30, and several of the old-timers
had warned her that EI was quite strict about that. Still and all,
it was a good job.
She and her friends boarded the lift, heading back in. When they
got off, she noticed many of the girls staring at them, curiously.
No, not at them, but only at her. What the heck?
When she crossed the sea of desks to hers, she knew. On the desk
was a pink memo slip. "Oh my god," she thought, "I've 'gotten a
pink.'" At EI, when a girl made a mistake, or broke a company rule,
took too long for lunch, or took too many bathroom breaks, or
whatever, she would 'get a pink', one of the pink notes left on her
desk. The note instructed her on when and where to report to one
of the company's Physical Corrections Officers, or the Spanker-Wankers
as they were called very much behind their backs.
Everyone hired by EI had to sign an agreement, giving the company
the right to administer physical punishment for any misconduct, but
Regina couldn't imagine what she had done wrong. She glanced at the
clock, but it was only 12.29, so she wasn't late getting back. Her
best mate, Carolynne, leaned over and asked her, in a low whisper,
"What on Earth did you do?"
"I don't know," she whispered back.
"Talking without permission, Miss Abernathy?" a voice spoke behind
her, loudly in the silence. "That will be reported, and added to
your correction. Back to work, girls!"
That was Mrs. Cooper, the supervisor, and the terror of her girls.
She was a real martinet, but so far Regina had managed to avoid
getting in trouble with her. Obviously her luck had just run out.
"Ma'am?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss Abernathy, what is it?"
"What did I do wrong? Why did I get a pink?"
"I'm sorry, dear, but you'll have to wait for Mr. Gruber to tell
you that."
Regina looked at the slip. Sure enough, it said (in neat public
school handwriting):
This Friday, at 9.00, report to Miss Lee, the company nurse, for
preparation, and at 10.00 to Mr. Gruber for correction. Expect
to miss lunch.
Mr. Gruber was widely reported to be the most sadistic of the three
Spanker-Wankers, and every girl who had been sent to him had been
bruised for days after. "Thank god," she thought. "If my punishment
is on Friday, I have the whole weekend to recover." But then she
had a really unpleasant thought. She knew the company liked for all
employees to see the results of a correction, "pour encourager les
autres", so if they planned it for a Friday, it might be that they
expected her to still be hurting by Monday. "Expect to miss lunch."
Suddenly that phrase was a lot more ominous.
The rest of the week passed in a curious mix of agonising anticipation
and extreme rapidity. Her Friday appointment hung over her head
like the Sword of Damocles, and not knowing what it was about, or
what to expect, made it far worse.
***
Friday morning Regina reported to work at 8.00, the same as always,
but not quite. Today hung over her like a dark cloud. She could
hardly concentrate, and even so, was quite surprised when the meeting
reminder popped up. She locked her workstation, and walked to the
nurses office.
Because EI practiced Physical Corrections, they maintained a small
medical staff on-site, to ensure the girls could take their corrections
safely, and to deal with any complications that might arise. Until
this day, Regina had never been to that office.
The door was open, and inside was a small waiting room, with a
receptionist behind a partition. The receptionist was a round and
curvy girl, not huge by any means, but not stick-like, either. She
looked up as Regina entered.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Yes, my name is Regina Abernathy. I have an"
"You have an appointment with Miss Lee. Please go down the hall to
examining room number three."
She did so. She entered a room like that seen in any doctor's office.
Desk, chairs, exam table (with stirrups). Sitting at the desk was
a small Asian woman. She had straight black hair that hung to her
ass, small but firm looking tits, and a look on her face (or maybe
it was the suggestion of attitude) that caused Regina to shiver
down to her heels.
"Good morning, Miss Abernathy. I'm Amanda Lee. My job is to ensure
that you are in good enough health to endure today's correction,
and to get you prepared for it. So to begin with, please remove
everything you are wearing, save for your heels. I do mean everything.
Blouse, skirt, lingerie, jewelry, *everything*."
Regina stared at her, dumbfounded, but made no move to comply.
"Now, bitch, or I will add a count of intransigence to your demerit
sheet. Believe me when I tell you that you don't want that."
Regina looked in vain for a partition to strip behind. She moved
to close the door. "If I wanted you to close the door, bitch, I
would have ordered you to do so. NOW GET NAKED!"
Regina began to strip, quickly. Finally, she stood naked save for
her four-inch heels before her diminutive tormentor.
"Clasp your hands behind your neck, and stand here," the nurse
pointed to the center of the small room. Regina did so. Miss Lee
walked slowly around her. She squeezed Regina's tits and muttered,
"Natural. Good, Mr. Gruber will enjoy disciplining these."
She walked slowly around the trembling Regina, stopping to stroker
her hips, to smack her ass cheeks, and finally, most humiliatingly,
to thrust two fingers into Regina's now sopping wet cunt. All the
while she muttering under her breath little comments about what a
slut Regina was.
Finally, she stood again in front of her. "Let's get you weighed,
measured, and cleaned, girlie." She led Regina over to a scale, and
took note of her weight. She then had her step out of her heels for
a moment, so she could measure her height. Next, she checked Regina's
blood pressure, and her pulse. All pretty routine stuff, it seemed.
Then things took a turn for the weird. Miss Lee said, "Up on the
table, bitch, and get those legs in the stirrups." Regina complied,
and was all too aware how obscenely she gaped. Miss Lee proceeded
to pull straps across her chest and waist, binding her to the table.
She then adjusted the table, simultaneously raising her trembling
victim's head and chest, and spreading her legs still wider.
Miss Lee began to pinch Regina's nipples, until they got hard. She
then applied an adjustable clamp to each, and began to tighten the
thumb wheel. Slowly, she increased the pressure, crushing the girl's
nipples smaller and smaller. Regina cried out, "Please, stop, I
can't take any more."
"You can, and you shall." The nurse continued to tighten the clamps
to the point that the two sides nearly touched. Regina was sobbing
hysterically, but quietly, because the first time she cried out,
Miss Lee slapped her face and shouted, "No screaming, bitch!"
The nurse noted how tightly she was able to clamp the nipples. She
next repeated the clamping on Regina's labia. Again, the clamps
were tightened well past the point of pain. Again, Regina kept from
doing more than sobbing.
However, when Miss Lee picked up another clamp, Regina realised
where it was going, and began to plead, "Please, no, please, you'll
kill my clit, you'll drive me crazy, please, oh please..." But of
course, the nurse was relentless. She clamped Regina's clit, and
drew a prolonged howl.
Miss Lee slapped her again. "I said to suffer QUIETLY! You are on
report for intransigence." But at last, she released Regina's
throbbing clit and pussy.
"Does it hurt, bitch?" she asked. Regina nodded. "Well, this is
nothing compared to what you will suffer. And I am gonna enjoy it.
Now, let's get you cleaned out."
She grabbed an enema nozzle, and stuffed it into Regina's as yet
untouched asshole. She flipped a switch, and somewhere, a motor
started. The girl squirmed as she felt warm water being pumped into
her ass. It continued until she thought she would burst, and then
it kept on going. Finally, her belly distended like a pregnant girl,
the flow stopped.
The nurse flipped another switch, and the flow reversed. Now the
warm and filthy water was pumped out of her. As the last was sucked
out, click, the flow reversed again. This time, even more water was
pumped in to the girl's ass. She was made to hold it until she was
visibly shaking from the cramps, then again she was pumped out.
The process was repeated a third time, and when it was done, Regina
was wrung out completely, like a runner who had just completed a
marathon. But she felt the dreaded nozzle withdraw, and she relaxed.
That moment of relaxation lasted all of about five seconds, until
she saw Miss Lee pick up a large speculum, and lube it up. "We've
got to see how wide we can stretch you, girlie." With that, she
inserted it into her victim's cunt, and began to spread it. Wider
and wider it went, open her wider than anyone had ever opened her
before.
Miss Lee stood between her legs with a flashlight, and a cloth
measuring tape, measuring her cunt eight ways from Sunday. Just
when Regina thought her humiliation couldn't get any worse, she
glanced to her side. On the desk was a computer monitor. And on the
monitor was an extreme closeup of her cunt. She realised that her
entire examination was being videotaped, and moaned.
Miss Lee noted the direction of her gaze, and said, "That's right,
bitch! You have been on tape since the moment you first walked in,
and this tape will be added, along with the footage of your discipline
session, to the video archives for the viewing pleasure of management."
After being held open so obscenely for what seemed to Regina like
forever, at long last the speculum was loosened, and withdrawn.
"I'd love to torment you further, girlie, but it is almost 10.00,
and if you are late, it will be my ass." The nurse shuddered at the
thought, or was it a memory?
Regina was unstrapped from the table. She stood up, and went to get
her clothes. Miss Lee smacked her hands, and said, "You know the
drill, bitch. You must walk naked from here to your punishment."
Regina had allowed herself to forget that little humiliation. But
she recalled seeing the girls, hands clasped behind their heads,
walking slowly among the desks.
And now it was her turn. She clasped both hands behind her head,
smiled bravely, and walked out onto the office floor. Most of the
girls looked away, or hid their eyes in shared shame and humiliation,
but some did not. Those who looked on fell into two groups: Those
who were anxious for her to receive punishment, and those who envied
her.
Regina found it strange that any would wish to take her place, and
yet it was obvious to her that several of the girls watching wanted
to do just that.
She continued the long slow march across the floor, to the door
marked only "Gruber". She glanced at the clock, and saw that it was
just turning 10.00. Hurriedly, she knocked.
"Come in, Miss Abernathy," a deep voice answered from within.
***
She opened the door and stepped inside. She saw an office, nothing
too odd, and wondered where all tools of the trade were to be found.
Her puzzlement was plain on her face. "This is just my office, my
dear. The place where I do the paperwork. You'll see the Correction
Room," he nodded towards a door in the side wall, "soon enough.
First, however, be seated." She complied.
"This is your first Physical Correction with us, is that right?"
Regina nodded. "Well, let me remind you of the terms of your contract.
Basically, I can't do anything to you that would require medical
care beyond what our staff can provide, nor can I do anything which
would leave you unable to work. However, those are the only limits.
And since you will have the two days of the weekend to recover,
that means your Physical Correction can go pretty far. Yes?" he
acknowledged the questioning glance.
"Sir, why am I being punished?"
"Ah, it appears that in one of your stories, you changed a character's
name from Sally to Molly, but you missed a few cases. That caused
several of our readers to think there were two characters instead
of just one. Mister Hamilton," she gasped as she realised he was
talking about the president of EI, "was furious. He received several
complaints, and had to refund some sites their money. He instructed
me to ensure that you never make that mistake again."
"In addition, you are up for talking without permission, and of
course, for intransigence from Miss Lee. You are in for a long day,
though I will promise you that we will be finished before 18.00,
since that is quitting time, and I am not going to work overtime,
just before the weekend, because some dumb cunt needs Physical
Correction. Now, let me give you the tour of the dungeon."
She was doubly scared now, as she hadn't even imagined, until he
spoke, that there was any possibility of her correction lasting
until 18.00. She waited, trembling anew, as he arose from behind
his desk, and drew a key from a chain around his neck. He used it
to open the other door, and stepped inside, motioning her to follow.
They were in a short hallway that led to another door. This one was
unlocked, and he opened it, ushering her into a large room. It was
probably five meters on a side, and the ceiling was much higher
than usual.
She stared in amazement at it all. She saw many devices and pieces
of equipment at the usage of which she could even begin to guess.
But the ones she did recognise were all things designed to cause
pain and suffering, more specifically, today, her pain and suffering.
She shuddered.
He walked her over to the first punishment station. It looked like
a giant "X", studded with straps. "This is a St. Andrew's Cross,"
he explained. "It is a great way to restrain a girl for a whipping,
flogging, or caning. Ours has a feature not often seen. It is mounted
on an axle so that it can rotate." He demonstrated, rotating it
slowly with his hand. "However, it can be locked into position, so
that once you are in the right position, you will be held there as
long as I desire."
They moved on to the next station. She recognised a pillory, but
there was something odd about it. He showed her. "You see this, the
bar to hold your pretty little neck and wrists? It can be moved
from the crosspiece here," he grabbed it from the stem of the "T"
it was part of, "and shifted to here," he attached it to a small
protrusion a foot behind the main stem, and only six inches off the
floor. "This is perfect for holding a girl bent right over, for
a really severe caning. And in the usual position, a girl presents
her bottom quite nicely for a caning or a firm paddling."
"Next," he said, moving her briskly to the next station, "we have
the suspension rig." He pointed to four padded cuffs, dangling near
the top of a frame of four-by-fours. Each was attached via a length
of plastic-wrapped steel cable on a winch. "Each of these cables
is rated to five hundred kilos. You can thrash about all you wish,
and you will not fall, or knock this station over. I find it
particularly efficacious for administering a prolonged pussy
whipping."
"Finally, this is my favourite piece." She looked, and saw a most
peculiar "chair". The seat consisted of two short wooden planks,
angled out in a wide "V". There were no arms, in the usual sense,
but there was a long wooden piece at about the height and length
of arms, if they were stretched straight out from the shoulders.
All over the chair were leather buckles, at the neck, wrists, waist,
and knees. Someone ("No, not someone," Regina thought, "me") would
be quite thoroughly immobilised in that chair.
"The Chair has a number of uses. It is a good position to hold a
girl for a mechanical rape, or even a non-mechanical one," he
chuckled evilly. "It holds a girl quite well for a severe tit
whipping. And finally," he paused dramatically, "it has been fitted
as an Electric Chair. Not," he hastened to add, "the sort used to
electrocute people, but definitely the sort that can be used to
torture a girl. Do you know what I love best about electrical
torture? I can make a girl scream like a soul enduring the agony
of the damned, and when I turn off the juice, that's it. No lingering
after effects."
"Of course, I don't have the one piece of gear I really wanted. I
asked them for a rack. You know, the old-fashioned racks used during
the Inquisition to dislocate shoulders and hips? But no, the
management said it might keep you girls from working. It never did
at my old job. Before I came here, I was the official harem torturer
for an obscure Arabic sheik. Old 'Bones' Malveaux, his harem doc,
never had any trouble putting the girls joints back to rights, and
you know, after a girl had her hips dislocated once, all I ever had
to do was threaten her with a repeat visit to the rack, and she
would do anything commanded of her. But I had to leave, 'cause I
began to miss the company of English-speaking folks. When I heard
what Mr. Hamilton had in mind for EI, I signed on straight away."
"Anyway, Miss Abernathy, that is the dungeon. I promise you that
you will spend at least an hour on each piece of equipment, and you
will entertain me with your screams all day. Oh, and did I mention
the closed-circuit television, so that management can watch and
hear you scream from the comfort of their offices? And you already
know that this will also be taped, for those who missed it, or who
just want to watch it again."
He looked at the girl, who was now shaking like leaf in a high wind.
"Shall we begin, my dear?"
***
All throughout the day, the girls working at their desks, could
hear the occasional howl, sob, or prolonged scream come from the
dungeon. Most tried to ignore it, as they always did. Some wished
they were in the room, inflicting that agony on the poor Miss
Abernathy, and some few wished they were in the room, in her place.
Finally, about 17.00 or so, the door opened. Regina stepped out.
She was not the same girl who had gone in there. The girl who had
entered the dungeon suspected that there were many dark and painful
places to which a girl could be taken. The girl who came out had
visited those places, and would never be quite the same.
She walked slowly through the office, to the Display Pillar. This
was a small raised platform, about one meter square, raised about
a meter above the floor. It stood right in the center of the floor,
where all the girls could easily see the penitent girl. After a
punishment, a girl was required to stand on the platform in the
display position (hands laced behind head) for the remainder of the
day.
Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, feelings. On the
one hand, she had never hurt this badly in her entire life, had
never even known a girl could be hurt this badly without being
killed, or at least hospitalised. But on the other hand, though it
shamed her to admit it, she had had some of the most gut-wrenching,
mind-blowing orgasms of her life while being disciplined, and the
greater her agony at the time, the more powerful the orgasm. Was
she sick? Perverted? Or merely a woman with a healthy, if unusual,
sexual appetite?
She remembered Mr. Gruber's last words to her, as he unstrapped her
from The Chair. "Believe me girl, you got off light, since this was
a first offense. You don't want them to send you back for a serious
session. However," he added, "I know your heart, Regina. I know
that you love this, don't you?" She nodded, hesitantly, fearful of
admitting it. "I can always tell. If, in a few weeks, you'd like
to experience this again, give me a call. We can have dinner of a
Saturday evening, and then I'll bring you back here for afters,
torture and sex. One of the perks of the job, dontcha know."
She knew that as much as feared him, she would be calling him, one
day soon. She would be returning to the dungeon again.
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