Chapter 10
On Saturday she arrived at Paul's door, dressed, as usual, in just her coat. Under her arm she carried her bulky jewelry box. Once in the apartment he had her slip out of her coat.
"How do you look?" Paul studied her thoughtfully. "Not bad. Certainly the basics are there to work with."
For the first time in days, Sue became fully aware of her shameless nudity in front of Paul. A shiver passed through her as she wondered what the big man had planned for her.
"Stan's parties are strange," Paul said, beginning to rummage through Sue's jewelry box. "They aren't really costume parties, but everybody wears a costume anyway. Stan says at parties people should dress to match the roles they feel they fill in life." As he went on about the party, Paul laid out the jewelry he wanted Sue to wear in a neat row on the table. Finally he seemed satisfied with what he had chosen and closed the case.
Throughout the selection process, Sue had stood carefully at attention, waiting for his orders. She felt her gut tightening with excitement and nervousness as she watched the big man paw through her jewelry. His final choices, all gold-colored costume pieces, were heavy, massive pieces she rarely wore.
"Come over here," Paul finally directed.
Obeying him, Sue stepped over. He picked up a heavy box from beside the couch and began to unwrap it. "I had to look all over town to come up with this one," he commented as he stripped off the brown paper. Opening the box, he reached inside and lifted out what looked like the bottom to a bikini, made out of a heavy metal, gold-plated and set with jewels.
"Fortunately, in the city of New York, you can buy anything. Even chastity belts. Step closer."
Fighting down her shivers, Sue stepped closer to him. When he slipped the heavy rig on her, the touch of the metal was icy against her skin. The contraption rattled and clinked as he adjusted it carefully. Finally, he snapped a heavy lock shut and tested the fit with his fingers, first around her waist, then along the triangular piece that shielded her cunt. The basic design was simple—a metal belt that went around her hips. Down the front ran a heavy metal triangle, curved to fit her body. The triangle of metal passed between her legs, where it ended in a ring. Two lengths of chain ran from that ring up to the belt in back. The entire thing was held together by an ornate padlock.
"Walk around and see how it feels," Paul ordered.
As she walked, Sue could feel the edges of the triangle over her pussy pressing into her thighs. The belt rested heavily on the bulge of her hips, while the chains in the back rubbed her buttocks slightly.
"There's something wrong," Paul observed. "Oh, I see what it is. Come here a minute."
Her cheeks flaming, Sue stood in front of him again as he unlocked the chastity belt.
Paul set it aside with a clatter. "There are scissors and a razor in the bathroom. Shave your crotch completely. I don't want a wisp of hair or the slightest trace of stubble left in your crotch."
She wanted to argue, but knew better than to try. Silently, she followed his orders. She had to use a mirror to see some parts, and worked carefully around her delicate folds of skin as she shaved with the safety razor after clipping the red hair as short as possible. Even so, it tugged painfully as she removed the last traces of stubble. She carefully checked for any remaining stubble with her fingertips, triggering the first slight sexual excitement in her loins as she did so.
Back in the living room, Paul slipped the chastity belt on her again and studied the effect. "That's much better. Now, there's only one problem with this belt, and we'll resolve that later. Put these earrings on, and slide these bracelets up your arms to your biceps."
Following his directions, Sue donned the jewelry he handed her. The earrings were dangling oriental ones, interlocking rings of gold that nearly brushed her shoulders. The bracelets were wide gold bands that barely fit around her biceps. Finally he unwrapped another package and produced a wide gold collar and a leash.
"I'll just put the collar on you right now. The leash can wait until later."
When he was done, he had Sue stand back and studied her carefully. She felt like a pagan slave as he eyed her. The heavy collar gripped her throat tightly. She wondered where he had gotten it, because it was not simply a dog collar. It fitted her throat perfectly, and rather than buckling, it was fastened by a small gold padlock.
"Very good," Paul decided. "Now, let's get me ready."
As she helped Paul with his bath and dressing, Sue became more used to her costume. The only uncomfortable aspect to the entire outfit was the fit between her legs of the chastity belt, and she soon became used to it.
When it was time to leave, she helped Paul on with his coat and then slipped her own on. Rather than a costume, Paul had donned his most somber suit, complete with a vest. He carried the keys to Sue's collar and chastity belt on a long gold chain tucked into the vest pocket like an old-fashioned watch fob. The last item he picked up and dropped in his pocket was the leash.
Outside, Sue again became aware of her strange costume as Paul hailed a cab. A shiver of excitement cut through her as she watched normally dressed people pass them by. She wondered what would happen if she were to suddenly cast off her coat and display her pagan attire. Her bare breasts brushed the coat, her nipples hardening with excitement at the thought. A slight breeze reminded her that while her sex was covered by the chastity belt, the chains up the back left her buttocks bare. She found herself biting her lip with excitement.
Once in the cab, Paul gave the address and reached into his pocket for the leash. It jingled loudly as he straightened it and Sue saw the eyes of the cabby widen as he watched Paul snap the leash to the collar. The driver shook his head in wonder and turned his attention back to his driving.
Stan's place turned out to be in an old brownstone deep in Greenwich Village. After paying off the cab, Paul took the leash and led Sue down a short flight of stairs to the basement entrance. A black iron gate barred the way and he pushed a button beside it.
"Well, well, look who's here," Stan exclaimed as he peered at them through the bars. "Welcome to the dungeon."
Sue decided he was unaware of how appropriate his words were when she saw his eyes widen at the sight of the leash and collar as she passed him. She heard the gate clang shut behind them and his footsteps hurrying to catch up.
"What's this?" their host asked, lifting the loop of the leash.
"Part of her costume," Paul remarked. "Except that it's not a costume. It's her real life role."
Stand shook his head. "I find that hard to believe. Can this silent creature be the same temptress I met at your party? Forsooth, I think not."
"Take off your coat, Sue," Paul ordered quietly.
They were standing in the doorway to Stan's living room. The party was already in full swing. A few couples were dancing, but most were sprawled around on cushions scattered over the floor. The air was heavy with the scent of marijuana. Trying to be casual, but feeling as if every eye in the room were on her, Sue shrugged off her short coat and handed it to Stan. The conversation in the room died abruptly as she stood there in her slave costume. Her nipples hardened with excitement as she felt everyone in the room studying her carefully.
"My coat," Paul ordered quietly.
Humbly, Sue removed her master's coat and handed it to the gaping Stan. Their host finally managed to close his mouth with a snap and turn away to dispose of the coats.
Dragging Sue casually along by the leash, Paul walked slowly across the room to the bar. Sue felt everyone watching her as she trailed along behind him. She kept a few paces back, her eyes on the ground, acknowledging in public what she had long acknowledged in private, Paul's unrelenting power and control over her. Her humiliation in public excited her and she fought down tremors in her muscles as she followed him to the bar.
"Nothing for her," Paul informed Stan's pretty dark-haired wife. "A martini for me, Carol."
Stan's wife seemed to know exactly how Paul liked his drink and mixed it skillfully. "I see you have a slave," she observed as she handed him the glass. "Is she well-trained?"
"Of course," Paul replied. "You'll see as the evening goes on."
"What fun," Stan's wife observed. There was a glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she eyed Sue carefully. Sue remembered the incidents with Stan at the party and cringed at the threat lurking behind the woman's penetrating eyes. Sue suddenly wished she had restrained herself at Paul's party, and found herself wondering just what was in store for her later in the evening.
"Why, there's Kate," Paul observed.
Sue turned toward the door and gasped quietly. The tall, pale blonde she had met at Paul's party stood in the doorway. Kate looked like an illustration out of the Psychopathia Sexualis of Krafft-Ebing. From the neck down she was clothed in jet black. Her torso was covered by a tight-fitting black sweater that hugged her closely. Her breasts, never impressive, were small mounds, obviously braless. Her pants were jet black and fitted tightly. A wide black belt studded with silver hugged Kate's hips, while shiny black boots came nearly to her knees. The jet black attire made the paleness of her complexion and hair even more bold.
"I always thought she was a bit of a sadist," Carol observed calmly. "I'd keep her away from your slave, if I were you. She might damage the goods."
"You may be right," Paul commented.
"Say, who's Carmichael supposed to be?" Paul asked, catching sight of the tall, lanky man.
"I think he's Attila the Hun," Carol answered. "Or is it Genghis Khan? I always did have trouble keeping them straight."
"It's Attila, the Scourge of God," Carmichael informed her, evidently having heard Paul's question while sauntering over. "And who's this choice morsel?"
Sue tried to back away from Carmichael's reach, but was brought up short by the leash.
"Let the man inspect the merchandise," Paul ordered, giving the leash a tug.
Carmichael reached for Sue's chin and tipped her head up. She tried to meet his pale blue eyes with hers, but her gaze slid away under his careful scrutiny. He pried her lips apart, inspecting her teeth as if she were a horse.
"Hmmm, not bad," Carmichael observed.
"Of course not," Paul replied.
Under Carmichael's careful study, Sue's humiliation increased, and with it her excitement. She hoped her sexual stimulation at being the center of so much attention was not visible to the others.
"Let's go see Kate," Paul decided, pulling Sue along by the leash.
"Well, well, I see you finally got the little bitch under control," Kate observed. The blonde woman had assumed an entirely different air from the one at Paul's party. Her sickening air of sophisticated boredom had dropped away. Along with her jet-black, threatening costume, she carried an air of hardness. A black coil looped through Kate's belt caught Sue's eye. It appeared to be some sort of whip.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Paul asked.
Kate shrugged. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I guess you could consider me the Bitch of Buchenwald if you wanted to."
"Charming, but I don't see any swastika," Paul observed.
Kate grinned, her teeth flashing in the dim light. "In this town, you don't wear a swastika if you want to live to a ripe old age."
"I suppose not. Have you seen Harry Landon?"
"You mean, Henry the Eighth? Not yet."
"Is that who he thinks he is? That's rich," Paul chuckled.
"It's all right as long as your name isn't Anne Boleyn," Kate remarked drily.
"Personally, I can't see any woman losing her head over Harry Landon," Paul retorted.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry about that," Paul apologized.
"By the way, who are you supposed to be?" Kate asked. "You're hardly an historical figure in that outfit."
Paul glanced down at his commonplace outfit. "I'm just a capitalist."
"Well, look out for Lee Chang in that case," Kate warned. "I think he came as Mao Tse Tung."
"He's too skinny," Paul noted.
"He got a pillow for under his jacket."
"Oh. Who else is here, anyway?"
Kate shrugged. "The usual group."
Stan Peters approached. He was wearing a medieval costume of black and silver. With his dark beard and handsome features, he made Sue think of evil Prince John in the Robin Hood story.
"Who are you?" Paul asked bluntly.
"The Grand Inquisitor," Stan answered. "Torquemada, of course."
"Do you think the Inquisition will find any heretics to send to the stake?" Kate asked sarcastically.
Stan surveyed her carefully, his dark eyes flashing. "Careful, wench, or I'll put you on the rack."
A slender, olive-complected man with curling black hair drifted past and Paul eyed him curiously. Stan sensed Paul's curiosity. "That's Frank Santucci. I forget which of the Roman Emperors he is supposed to be. It's either Nero or Caligula."
"Charming," Paul remarked.
Sue stood silently beside them throughout this conversation, keeping in mind Paul's injunction for her to speak only when spoken to. The endless parade of costumed people had her feeling a little dazed. She had not realized just how many evil characters history had contained.
"I think I'd better go dance with my wife," Stan remarked.
Carol was waiting for her husband in the middle of the floor. Her outfit was only slightly more modest than Sue's, in that it covered her breasts and buttocks. She was dressed as an Egyptian queen. Stan moved over by her and they danced with erotic abandon to the driving music.
"Let's dance," Paul ordered, giving Sue's leash a jerk.
Once in the middle of the floor, he stood back from her, still holding the leash. "Dance for me," he ordered.
Hesitantly at first, Sue began to move to the music. Her near nudity and the fumes from the pot added to her excitement, freeing her to move more boldly than usual. Her costume left nothing to the imagination, and she could feel people watching her as she danced. She was barefoot, and the polished wood floor felt cool under the soles of her feet. She kept her eyes downcast, fastened on the crotch of Paul's pants as she danced. She was fighting to trigger a visible reaction from Paul and postured and writhed accordingly. With her fingers she toyed with her tits, pinching her nipples and bringing them erect. She was vaguely aware that everyone else had stopped dancing and was watching her. The thought only raised her own excitement higher as she danced more and more boldly and erotically for Paul. She lifted her breasts with her hands and offered them to him, her fingers teasing her nipples. Letting them drop, she shrugged her shoulders, making her breasts bounce on her chest. Her fingers traced down her hips to her crotch, where she suggestively toyed with her chastity belt.
All the eroticism she had felt since donning her costume was coming out in her as she rolled and twisted her hips for Paul. Her own blood boiled as she danced, displaying herself to the crowd as well as her master. She sensed his approval as she posed for them all. Her hair swirled around her face as she abandoned herself totally to the music. The chastity belt rubbed and chafed against her tender flesh, only exciting her more with the pain it triggered. She felt depraved and wanton dancing for the entire crowd.
Faster and faster she moved as the pace of the music picked up. Her fingers raced over her own body, from her throat to her thighs and back again, triggering rippling waves of passion through her muscles. She felt her orgasm building, rising from her own touch and the eyes on her as she danced, and she did everything possible to bring it closer and closer. She pried under the chastity belt with one desperately seeking finger, trying to reach her cunt and drive herself to still greater heights.
Her dance was being rewarded by a slow rise in Paul's pants as he watched her, and the sight encouraged her to try harder. She danced more and more violently for him, but still her orgasm eluded her. She looked at Paul, begging him with her eyes for some help in reaching the peak she felt so near. He seemed to sense her desperation and smiled at her. Kate was standing by his side, her pale blue eyes locked on Sue's erotically writhing body.
Sue was desperate now, her climax so near, but still so far away. Suddenly Paul seemed to understand and remember something. He whispered to Kate, and the tall blonde handed him the whip she had at her belt. With a grin that was almost a snarl he let the instrument of torture uncoil like a snake. Sue's eyes fastened on it hungrily and her mouth watered with excitement. Pleading with her entire body, she fell to the floor in front of Paul, offering the vast expanse of her naked flesh to him. The first lash, when it came, blazed across her back like fire, wringing a cry from her and raising her still closer to her orgasm. Her muscles began to writhe on their own, tumbling her over on the floor. As she writhed on the bare hardwood, the lash fell again, slashing across her belly, wringing a cry of pain from her, while at the same time she soared still closer to her climax. Her body no longer obeyed her mind now, writhing mindlessly on the floor as the lash cut at her again and again, now across her thighs, or her back, or her stomach. One blow struck her breasts, setting them afire with an incredible pain, the nipples burning with agony.
Paul seemed to be reaching a frenzy, and the whip fell harder and faster as he struck at her. Her orgasm finally washed over her, a wave of fire that wrung a scream from her as she rolled over and over on the floor, the whip cutting into her, leaving blazing pink trails of agony over her tender body. Finally Paul seemed to realize she was done, and threw the whip aside. His hands were on his hips as he stood over her, panting. Sue struggled to control her muscles, then managed to get to her knees. Humbly she crawled over to him, and, using his legs as a ladder, slowly lifted herself. His cock was hard and stiff under his pants. Oblivious to the crowd around them, Sue unfastened his pants, freeing his big cock to bob and wave before her face. Almost reverently she grasped the mighty tool and kissed it. Then she began to lick it as if it were a lollipop. Finally, she took the massive rod into her mouth, sucking at it eagerly. She became aware of the people watching them, but it only added to her excitement as she drove her head down on his big prick.
He stood over her, hands on his hips, as she sucked his cock eagerly. Faster and faster she drove the tool down her throat, her excitement building again as she did so. She began to whimper softly, trying to reach a second orgasm as she sucked Paul off. She sensed his climax nearing, and fought harder to reach her own, rubbing her thighs together. Closer and closer it drew, but still it remained just out of reach. She felt Paul's balls tighten up, felt the first tremors of his climax approaching, and readied herself for the blasts of semen. Just as the first preliminary twinge of Paul's cock took place, a stinging lash struck her back, making her jerk, jolting her toward her climax. Again a blow blistered her back, and she began to climax with a violence that almost made her loosen her grip on Paul. He began to spout into her mouth and she swallowed desperately to avoid choking, even as another blow from the whip streaked across her back and her own orgasm turned her muscles to jelly. Paul's cock slowly eased its eruption, and Sue pulled her mouth away, catching the last spurt of semen on her already sticky chin. Weakly, she slipped down, steadying herself on Paul's legs as she caught her breath and her senses. The beating had stopped, leaving her back a mass of fire. Gradually her senses returned and the fire of the lashing died away, leaving her limp and feeling as if she had a severe sunburn. Idly, she wondered if the whip had left any lasting marks. She tried to decide if she felt any blood trickling down her back, but the sweat from her exertions made this impossible.
"Get up," Paul ordered.
Still half dazed, Sue slumped at his feet, not hearing his order.
"Get up," Paul repeated.
Sue became aware that conversation around them had resumed. Only Kate remained by Paul, eyeing Sue curiously. Weakly, Sue tried to struggle to her feet. She was urged upward by Paul's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her up painfully. Awkwardly, Sue got to her feet and stood before her master.
Paying little attention to Sue, he gathered up the leash and turned to Kate. "I need a drink," he said.
Meekly, Sue followed him over to the bar on the end of the leash. She felt curious glances cast at her as she trailed along behind the man she had just blown in public, but she avoided looking up. Her cheeks flamed with shame and she could feel the juices of her own come drying on the chastity belt.