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Chapter 28 The Conservatory
Come with me,” said Ray as soon as we finished placing the club’s equipment in storage on the first floor. Everything had to be wiped down with an anti-bacterial cleanser then carefully stowed away in a locked closet.
“Where to, Master Ray,” I asked sitting the whipping post down I’d retrieved from a third floor bedroom? I had dutifully noted the drops of blood staining the pedestal. That wasn’t surprising given that whipping Slaves was a primary activity for the Masters. Ted grabbed the bottle of sanitizer and sprayed the pedestal then wiped it down with a paper towel. We were exhausted and eager to finish.
“We’re done here, except for the two Pain Slings in the Conservatory. Charmaine said they were still being used so she skipped them. Let’s go check,” said Ray after consulting his clipboard.
It was amazing how many whipping posts and frames along with punishment benches and the odd apparatus like the barrel were spread throughout the mansion. It was the Slave’s job, of course, to locate and retrieve everything. Fortunately, most of the equipment could be folded up and carried by a single individual.
That was fortuitous since we Slaves felt as tired as we looked. It had been a long and eventful day. Still, it was a good tired. There is no better way on earth to exhaust the body and relax the mind than a full day of sexual intercourse with multiple partners of both sexes.
All the equipment had to be carefully tallied to insure nothing remained out for the public to find. It wouldn’t do if a wedding party discovered Lenny’s Sodomy Barrel standing in the Reception Hall covered in dried semen.
Ted and I followed the big man through the door of the Conservatory. The scene that greeted us was far out on the bizarre scale.
The Conservatory was obviously set up for a classical performance like a string quartet. There were about thirty chairs lined up in front of a small stage. The motif was definitely musical. The décor included musical notes hand carved in the crown molding. Musical instruments were painted on the ceiling.
A grand piano had been shoved to the back to allow the Pain Slings to appear center stage. Charmaine had been correct. Jean and Corrine were both experiencing multiple penetrations. A half dozen Masters were fucking the shit out of the pair while their wives stood by masturbating or reaching in to add to their pain.
“Take a seat. We need to wait until they’re done,” said Ray guiding Ted and I to the last row of chairs.
I quickly plopped down, anxious to rest my legs. We were no more than fifteen feet from the stage. I could hear Corrine and Jean’s labored breath as they experienced the type of sex Corrine would later inform me is edge play.
Japanese Rope Bondage had provided me some understanding of the bondage experience. Personally, it worked to a limited extent. I’d spent almost two hours restrained over the Sodomy Barrel. The sodomy was great but the fact I was stretched to the point my joints ached, only marginally added to the experience. Honestly, I would have preferred the sodomy occur when I was free to move, trying different positions.
Later, when my barrel time was finished, I worked the room performing orally for any male or female who wanted to use my body. Burying my head between a Mistress’s wet thighs licking fluids out of her hot hole while the Master rammed his dick in my ass was in my opinion the best sex possible. I didn’t feel the need to be restrained.
But to Corrine, bondage greatly enhanced the experience. And at the moment, she was encased in a device so fiendish I marveled at its construction. It was truly a sling in that it hung from hooks in the ceiling. It was also amazingly thorough in terms of restraint.
My first thought was that Lenny was the Albert Einstein of modern torture equipment and should be nominated for a Nobel Prize in pain if there was one. I later learned Lenny was only the manufacturer not the designer. Restraints Unlimited, a west coast design house had designed the Pain Sling. According to the write-up on the WEB site, Restraints Unlimited had designed bondage and torture equipment not only for the elite of Hollywood but Middle Eastern potentates. It made me wonder what kind of fun things the Sultan of Brunei or the Emir of the UAE did when it was too hot to leave the palace.
The girl’s legs were bent at the knee. The soles of their feet rested tightly against their buttocks. Some kind of webbing stretched her toes in different directions.
Arms were bound beyond their back so the elbows touched. I’d tied Corrine’s arms with rope but her arms were inside a laced sleeve that had been tightened so her elbows touched. Her shoulders were rotated toward her back thrusting out her boobs, offering them for punishment.
The Pain Sling didn’t leave out any major body part. Their boobs were incased in a cone of concentric rings. The smallest ring captured the nipple stretching it out a good inch.
I had noted earlier both male and female Slaves had unusually prominent nipples. When I glanced down at mine, I saw they protruded more than I remembered. Corrine’s buds never shrank back to their pre-club days. Her new nips are more fun to suck. God knows what our doctor’s think.
Each of the circles made a deep impression in the breast flesh. The result was the tallest and oddest-looking tits I had ever seen.
Their heads were incased in a harness consisting of leather straps. Hooks in their nostrils pulled their nose toward their forehead. A built in Whitehead gag held their mouth wide open Pads covered their eyes and a knob at the back of the head tightened the entire harness until their face was horribly distorted. A ring at the very top pulled their head down until the crown was pointed toward the floor.
What I could not see was the gag included a tongue crusher that allowed unimpeded access to the subject’s throat. In summary, the Pain Sling placed its occupant in an agonizing position in which they could be easily penetrated in all orifices.
A second gong sounded indicating it was definitely time to leave. Several of the Masters took a few extra seconds to achieve a climax, dumping a final load into an overworked hole before heading off to dress and return home.
Ray led us to the slings as soon as the last Master left. Everything was eerily quiet except for the whimpering sounds Jean and Cory were making.
“You guys want a piece for the road,” whispered Ray unzipping his trousers and taking a position at Jean’s mouth? Obviously, Ray intended to have one.
Ted nodded his head yes as he placed his hand on Cory’s sex. Which I might add fit the term ravaged perfectly. Her labia were red and looked like they had been bee stung they were so swollen. Her clit was bright red and hanging out, a victim of too much oral attention. Swelling had made it larger than I had ever seen it.
Jean’s cunt seemed to be in even worse shape. Her large outer labia looked a cabbage leaves that had been stepped on. There was a dribble of milky fluid flowing out the bottom landing in a puddle on the floor.
“Sure, why not,” said Ted, “I got one good fuck left in me and Tom’s whore of a wife is going to get it. Watch me, Tom.” Ted stepped between Corrine’s bent legs and mounted her.
I followed suit with Jean. Ted and I maintained eye contact as we fucked each other’s wives. It wasn’t long before I filled Jean’s cunt with my last load of the night. Ted and I finished at the same time.
“Go ahead you too, clean them out,” said Ray who at the moment was fucking Corrine’ throat as he played with a lever that decreased the circumference of the rings encircling her breasts. In spite of the cock in her mouth, she whimpered each time he pressed the lever.
Ted and I swapped positions. I placed my mouth on Corrine’s vagina and forced my tongue inside. It was a mother lode of semen. I explored the walls of her cunt as my mouth filled with the dregs of the many fucks my wife had experienced. For men who get off eating their wife’s cream pies, it was a good as it gets.
I managed to jerk off as I sucked her pussy.
“Time to clean up and get the hell out,” announced Ray when we finished.
We quietly lowered the slings to the ground. That was when Ray proved himself to be something of a sadist. First he removed the head harness and the gag for both girls. They told the bastard thank you. Next he rolled Jean over and loosened the buckle holding her leg bent.
“This is the fun part,” said Ray. With a big grin on his face, he grabbed the leg and unbent it. Jean proved that even after all she had been through, she could still scream like a banshee when limbs that had been restrained for hours were forced to straighten.
“You two do the others,” said Ray standing back to watch. He was, apparently, something of a voyeur
Corrine proved she could scream even louder when we straightened both her arms and legs. Neither woman could stand. Ray helped us carry them to the cars. By the time we got home, Corrine was able to walk into the house with my help. She didn’t get out of bed until late the following day.
Toward noon when I fixed her some tea, I asked her whether she enjoyed the club and wanted to return next month.
She smiled and gave me a hug, then said, “Very much so, I can’t wait until next month.”
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