Occupational Hazzards
CHAPTER FIVE
Jim invited me into his villa while he changed in
preparation to conduct a session. I sat in an
expensive, leather easy chair watching a muted CNN on
a huge television while he dressed.
"You'll meet all kinds of folks here Travis," Jim
began. "They're into S&M, light bondage, domination,
mutilation, bestiality...the list goes on. The staff
has people to cater to all these tastes. We're the S&M
staff and, if all goes well, you'll be heading of a
cadre of at least 10 disciplinarians as our lead--the
pain boss. Right now there are six of us, two being
women. Sally just switched over from the mutilation
branch."
As Jim talked, he dressed in a pair of baggy black
canvas pants that he bloused over heavy, black lace-up
boots. He ran a thick leather belt through the
trousers loops and cinched it through a large brass
buckle. He remained shirtless and excused himself to
go to the bathroom.
"I need to shave my chest," he explained. Some of us
with very little chest hair stay slick-chested while
others with lots of "boob fuzz" go natural. What's
your status?"
I opened my shirt, pulled my tie to the side, and
displayed thick, gray-streaked blond chest hair that
converged to a point just below my naval.
"Christ," Jim exclaimed. "Don't let Dana see that or
she'll be all over you! She loves lots of chest
hair...I hear though that you have to remove any back
hair for her!"
I rebuttoned my shirt while Jim applied a dry oil to
his upper torso with a spray bottle. He then fitted a
black leather half-hood that covered his head down to
his nose.
"Pretty scary, huh?" Jim asked. "It's our standard
uniform although we have several variations. Okay,
let's go!"
We left Jim's villa by a side door that opened into a
well-lit enclosed hallway. We walked several hundred
feet on a downward slope and stopped when we came to a
door that Jim identified as the observation room for
punishment room five.
"Make yourself comfortable," Jim directed. "I'll be
working on one of our regulars and it usually takes
awhile for this lady--she's an old pro. Now remember,
you'll be able to observe without being seen thanks to
the one-way mirror. You'll also be able to hear
everything. You may be joined by my victim's "master"
who is actually her husband. If he wants to talk, by
all means speak with him. However, it's only polite
here to let the members control the conversation.
Finally, keep in mind that the lady enjoys what I'll
be doing to her. After the session, we can probably
meet them in the lounge and you can talk with her if
you want."
"I'll see how I handle the session Jim," I replied.
"Thanks for all your help."
"No problem, Hell, gotta be good to my new boss!" Jim
said.
I settled into one of the observation area's four
theater-like seats. Amid the soft blacklight glow, I
noted a small bar with ice, spring water and silver
hot pots labeled coffee and tea. A discrete sign was
posted over the bar stating smoking was permitted. I
saw nothing but pitch black looking out from my seat
through the large one-way glass. Suddenly intense
lights bathed the area and Jim entered through a door
directly opposite my seat.
"Okay buddy, our lady should be in any second..." Jim
explained.
Through the same door from which Jim emerged, a mature
large black man appeared holding the handcuffed wrists
of a younger looking black woman. She wore normal
street clothes but was blindfolded. In spite of the
eye covering, the woman's expression was haughty and
she carried herself with dignity.
"Master of pain," the black man rumbled. "I've brought
the transgressing wench to you again as she continues
to disobey me. I ask you to punish her severely so
she'll understand that she must totally submit to me."
"Leave her in my hands great one," Jim replied. "She
will soon realize you are her salvation. Do you wish
to aid in bringing about her misery?"
The man answered, "I will not touch the undeserving
bitch until she learns the ways of my pleasures."
"Bitch!" Jim bellowed. "Do you know what must happen
here?"
"Yes Pain Master," the woman answered. "I must atone
for my negligences to my master."
"Those are the last words you will utter until I'm
through with you cunt!" Jim yelled.
As the black man held the woman's cuffed wrists, Jim
inserted a large, rubbery ball into her mouth and tied
the attached straps behind her head.
During the gagging, I was able to briefly survey the
punishment room and was alarmed to see so many hanging
ropes and chains as well as a kettle of glowing embers
from which various tools were protruding. Two separate
medieval-looking racks were also displayed; one
horizontal, the other vertical.
Jim took the woman to the center of the room and
removed her handcuffs and blindfold. Her wrists were
then reconnected in front of her by wide leather
cuffs. The two cuffs were connected together by a
short chain. Reaching overhead, Jim drew down a cable
and attached it to the cuffs connecting link. He then
began pulling the rope which ran through a pulley
attached to the ceiling; this raised the woman's arms
up over her head. When fully extended, Jim knelt and
removed the woman's shoes. He looped ropes attached to
rings in the floor around both ankles. The woman's
legs were held apart about shoulder width. When
secure, Jim returned to the rope holding the woman's
arms and began pulling, stretching her in opposition
to her bound ankles. The woman's eyes widened as the
discomfort mounted. Jim, satisfied with the her body's
tension, tied off the stretching rope.
"Master, would you care to cut off her clothing to
allow me to apply her punishment properly?" Jim asked
the black man.
The master chose a large combat-type serrated knife
and began slowly slicing the woman's clothing. When
she was naked, the man took a seat on a stool near the
hot embers and directed Jim to proceed.
Jim was certainly correct about the woman being a pro
at this type of treatment. Her dark skin showed the
marks of many previous sessions. Her pubic area was
completely shaved but, curiously, she sported a
healthy growth of underarm and leg hair. Her breasts
were rather small and all but flattened out completely
due to her body being extremely stretched. Her nipples
were huge and protruded at least 3/4 of an inch;
however they were nearly white and contrasted
dramatically with her coffee-colored breast tissue.
Jim explained to me later that her nipples carried a
lot of scar tissue which accounted for the lack of
pigmentation.
Jim began the woman's assault by choosing a
short-cropped, multi-fringed leather whip. He flogged
the woman from top to toe. She uttered not a sound and
barely reacted otherwise save for a slight tearing of
the eyes.
Jim knelt and untied the woman's feet. He heaved on
the rope working the overhead pulley and lifted her
off her feet suspending her in the wrist cuffs. Jim
then took her by the hips and slowly spun her around
in a lazy circle. I admired the extensive network of
stripes across her back as well as the whip-induced
grid pattern on her chest.
"How does this feel on your tits ?" Jim asked as nine
strips of leather violently struck the woman's chest.
By defensive reflex, the woman jerked her legs up.
Jim's cat-o-nine tails then came slashing up from
below and caught the back of her raised legs. This
continued for several minutes, with the woman's body
involuntarily responding to shield the last part
struck, exposing a new target in the process. The
woman was spinning and jumping in the air. Jim
replaced the smooth leather lash with one with knots
tied randomly in the nine lashes. The new whip was
applied to patches of unmarked brown skin. In her
mounting rage and agony, the woman tried to evade the
whip, swinging herself about. Jim was laughing as he
used the woman's own momentum to make the whip strike
with even more intensity into her soft flesh.
Jim stopped the whipping and produced a black rubber
hood that he quickly stretched over the woman's sweat
glistened head before her swaying body came to a full
stop. She was overheated due to the room's high
temperature and her body temperature raised from the
adrenaline response to the thorough flogging. Drenched
in perspiration, the woman found it hard to breath
under the hood and thrashed desperately to draw a
breath. The ball gag in her mouth prevented her from
sucking air. The condensation inside the rubber hood
filled her nostrils as she tried valiantly to inhale.
She danced vigorously at the end of her rope
struggling for air.
After several minutes, Jim stopped her aerial
acrobatics with a close-fisted quick jab to her belly
and removed the hood. As she slumped gasping rapidly
for air only through flaring nostrils, Jim lowered the
woman until her feet touched the floor. He installed a
leather harness shaped like an inverted "A" that
passed over her shoulders, were there were large eye
bolts to be used to suspend her. A vertical strap was
adjusted just below her breasts so she wouldn't slip
out the sides. Her wrists were removed from the
overhead cuffs and reattached by straps to her thighs.
Her legs were secured, spread a foot apart, by chains
attached to the floor to cuffs attached to her ankles.
Jim adjusted the leg restraints to allow a bit of
slack in the chains to allow her to reach the floor
just barely with the tips of her toes. Jim them
attached the overhead suspension rope to the snare's
eyebolts and lifted the woman just slightly off the
floor. The snare gave just enough so that the floor
could again just be grazed by her toes. She was
permitted then to catch her breath and to discover how
it felt to have her crotch support her full weight on
the thin strap of the harness.
Jim snarled, "In case you thought your tits had been
punished plenty in previous sessions and I'd ignore
them now--you're wrong--in fact, during this session,
they may explode!" At that remark, a look of terror
spread over the woman's face. Jim approached the vat
of hot embers and removed some items with a gloved
hand. He then approached the woman holding several hot
needles before her immense eyes.
"You'll now learn that your master must be obeyed."
Jim blared. " These needles will be used unmercifully
on your puny tits."
Jim squeezed the woman's right breast hard and pulled
it forward. Then, beginning next to her collarbone at
the breast's base, slowly inserted a single, long
needle. The woman's head jerked back, eyes cinched
tight, her face twisted in pain, but she didn't make a
sound. As the needle made its slow progress through
the breast, the woman began jerking in the harness.
She thrashed her head in the air and clenched her
fists till her hands turned white and the sweat poured
down her contorted and ashen face. Eventually, the
needle's point appeared at the bottom of the breast.
Jim stopped the assault when the needle met the top
rib. He gave the breast an open-handed slap that
caused the woman's eyes to reopen.
"That's one, bitch. Time for the other one," Jim
threatened. He then squeezed the left breast, and a
needle was inserted into it and pushed through. The
microphones in the room were not sensitive enough to
pick up the sounds of the needle being pushed through
the flesh. I wondered what it sounded like. The woman
was totally rigid during the second needle treatment.
She kept her eyes and hands tightly clenched,
appearing to steal every muscle against the agony as
the needle penetrated. This was one tough woman! As
the needle made it's way through however, the tears
began to force their way under her tightly closed
eyelids and mingle with the sweat already stinking her
eyes. When finished, Jim applied a final slap and left
her suspended in stony shock. From a nearby shelf, Jim
produced four shorter needles, about 3 inches long,
that he heated before the woman over a hand-held
candle. Grasping a nipple, he rammed a needle through
the nipple's base followed by another in the opposite
direction eventually forming an "X". He repeated this
procedure with the other nipple. The woman slumped in
her harness.
Jim asked the black man if this was enough.
"Make her alert one more time," the man answered as he
rubbed his crotch.
Jim picked up the smooth-fringed cat-'o-nine tails and
covered her body with blows less violent than those
administered earlier.
The woman jerked her head upright and Jim removed her
gag. A pitiful rush of contained up agony exploded
from the woman followed immediately by loud sobs.
Finally, a string of curses flew at Jim.
"You motherfucken goddamn cocksucken sonofabitch...my
fucken tits are on fire and you...".
Her words turned to screams as Jim used his thumb and
index finger in a flicking motion on her impaled
nipples. After several taps, be began to extricate the
long needles imbedded in her breasts. The intensity of
the screams increased and reached a crescendo when the
short needles through the nipples were withdrawn. As
the acute pain subsided, the screams returned to
pitiful moans and sobs as Jim released her from the
leather harness. Her hands were again cuffed in front
of her and she was presented to her master.
"She is broken master," Jim said.
"You did well Master of Pain," replied the black
Organization member. "Follow me woman," he added and
proceeded for the punishment room's exit. The woman,
unsteady on her feet and head bowed, shuffled behind
him and out of the room. As the door closed, Jim
looked toward me behind the window and said,
"I thought she'd need a lot of attention--this took
nearly three hours. Let me get cleaned up and we'll
head to the lounge."
I was speechless and struggled to come to grips with
what I'd just witnessed and wondering how I could
possibly consider being a part of it.
On to Chapter 6
