AN EARLY EXIT
So there I was, mounting a stage upon which my girlfriend was bound, gagged and
being whipped, while a stream of bouncers surged towards me, in the middle of a
Club evidently dedicated to the binding, gagging and torturing of women.
In my impulsive rage, I'd assumed that Susan was being whipped against her will,
but then I caught a look at her eyes as I came alongside her and everything
changed.
For Susan did not so much look back at me, but right THROUGH me with
half-closed, pleasure-filled eyes ...
Right up to that point, I'd been prepared to die - to go out swinging, and in
the process, hopefully take Mr Chaswell with me. I wanted him dead so much that
I basically didn't care what happened to me moments later.
But that moment of revelation while looking into Susan's eyes stopped me cold,
and a new plan of action slotted neatly into the forefront of my mind . . .
*****
Even as the first of the bouncers mounted the stage behind me and the murmur of
the crowd reached outrage" proportions, I extended my hand toward Mr. Chaswell,
and forcing a smile, said: "The cat, if you please."
Despite my own predicament, I was tempted to laugh at the look of surprise that
etched itself across the older man's sweat-covered face.
"But you're . . . "
"Of course I am, but does that really matter?" Booted footsteps behind me
heralded the arrival of the female bouncers. One word from Mr Chaswell and I was
gone.
It was now or never. "Please," I hissed. "I'm OWED this."
A measure of his composure returning, Mr Chaswell straightened and nodded
slowly. "Alright, ten strikes, and then we'll all leave quietly via the back
door." He glanced over his shoulder to a door set in the back of the stage. "And
Mr Kendalli, I MEAN quietly."
I nodded and he put the cat in my outstretched hand. Another nod from him and
the bouncers were backing off, making room for me. I turned to face Susan's welt
covered back and the crowd beyond her. They were slowly quieting down, probably
coming to believe that I was part of the entertainment.
Mr Chaswell swiftly confirmed that belief. "Members and honoured guests, please
welcome our celebrity lasher, Mr. K!"
Polite applause followed - not that I cared. All I wanted was to whip Susan and
pour every iota of rage, angst, and sorrow I had into the lashes I was to give
her. She'd betrayed me, lied to me, used me. It was obvious that THIS was her
real life, while I'd be lucky to rate a distant second. And for that, I wanted
her to suffer.
But to suffer by my own hand.
So I brought the cat down across the middle of her back with as much force as I
could. Susan immediately began squealing into her gag, but at the same time, I
saw her pelvis start thrusting up and down on the dildo impaling her. So I
lashed her with the cat again . . . and again . . . across her back and buttocks
and upper thighs. But I saved the best for last. I walked around to face my
girlfriend as she hung there suspended, and with my last two strokes, aimed them
squarely at her tortured breasts. Susan screamed into the white ball as those
two lashes fell, and for just a moment I though I'd broken through to her. But
then I saw the way the exposed part of the dildo was glistening beneath her
crotch and realised I'd done nothing more than add to her pleasure.
The crowd seemed equally excited. They had taken their cue from my bold move and
were now applauding loudly. There were even a few calls of "Bravo!" coming from
the back of the dance floor. Rather than responding, however, I turned and
walked across the stage to where Mr Chaswell was standing. I handed him the cat
and together we walked out the back door, flanked by three of the gloved and
booted bouncers.
Behind us, the spotlights went out and the curtain again closed across the
stage.
*****
"You demonstrate a rare talent with the cat-o-nine tails, Victor. Tell me, have
you wielded one before?"
We were in a dark back alley, and I was in no doubt as to what was to happen
next. Mr Chaswell had led the way through a veritable maze of dimly lit
corridors, before coming to what appeared to be a service elevator. We descended
in silence with our escort, and it was only once we were outside and he had
taken the opportunity to light and puff on a fat cigar, that he had spoken.
"Only once or twice."
"Ah," he said. "Well it seems you have an instinct for it then."
I smiled without humour. "If it's all the same to you Mr Chaswell, I'd like to
get this over with."
"A man of action and very few words, I see. Well so be it. Hold him." Two pairs
of strong hands gripped my upper arms and forced me to my knees. Mr Chaswell
delved into the depths
of his three piece suit and came out holding a small caliber pistol. He saw my
look.
"Don't worry, it may be small but it will do the job." He produced a second item
from somewhere about his person - a small silencer - and began screwing it into
place. "I have to say, Mr Kendalli, that I'm quite surprised by your eagerness
to die. If it was myself in your less than envious position I'd want to know all
about how my woman had fallen into such company. Are
you not even the slightest bit curious?"
"Does it make a difference?"
"No, I guess it does not. I cannot allow any outsiders into my Chapter of the
Bondage Club. The Presidents would oust me as soon as they had word of such an
occurrence. But I do wish we had met under other circumstances. I, for one,
would have been proud to sponsor your application for
Membership."
"Am I meant to be flattered?"
Mr Chaswell sighed. "Sadly, no. That would be too much to expect on my behalf.
Still, allow me to offer you this one comforting thought before you die." He
finished screwing the silencer into place. "Susan will be well taken care of.
She is to become one of the elite group of female assassins that even now hold
you still. We have dubbed them 'Angels'. Aptly titled, don't you think?"
I craned my head back to take one last look at the women holding me. Two of them
were looking at Mr Chaswell, but the third - a gorgeous raven haired woman with
sky-blue eyes - was staring straight at me. Meeting her gaze only momentarily, I
proceeded to scan each of the other women, before eventually nodding. "I doubt
there'd be many who'd disagree."
"Well very soon, your Susan will be an elite among them. Her training has been
of the highest caliber, and her conversion is without flaw. Not that I expected
anything less, of course. After all, it was I who singled her out the day she
came into my little book store, looking for a Dominance and submission book." Mr
Chaswell chuckled. "It seems she was ready to take things a step further with
you Mr Kendalli. So I offer you my belated apologies for intervening when I
did."
"Fuck you," I replied simply.
He ignored my insult. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a function to return to.
These Angels will see you 'out'." He tossed the silenced pistol at the raven
haired Angel - who caught it deftly - and nodded in my direction. "Make it quick
and painless. The show he put on for us tonight earns him that much at least.
Afterwards, you know what to do."
While I dealt with the surprise that the man himself wasn't to be my
executioner, Mr Chaswell turned to face me one last time. "Enjoy the rest of
your evening, Mr Kendalli."
I didn't reply. Mostly because I couldn't think of anything to say beyond "Go to
hell".
He disappeared back into the building.
The raven-haired Angel moved around in front of me - the silver gun contrasting
starkly with the black of her gloved hand. Without a word of warning, she
pointed the barrel of the gun at the center of my forehead and . . .
"Leave," she said suddenly.
"But . . ." started the Angel to my right.
"I said 'Leave'. Do it now."
The hands forcing me down on my knees fell away. Turning, I saw the two near
naked women walking back through the same door that Mr Chaswell had just used.
"Look at me," ordered the last Angel. I did so instantly. Something strange was
going on here, and I didn't want to ruin it by failing to obey a command.
Especially one that had sounded so edgy.
The Angel struggled to speak for a few moments, as if she was unable to say what
she wished.
"I want . . . y-you to whip . . . me . . . L-like you . . . did 113F." Her words
came out through clenched teeth.
By the time my addled mind had pieced together what she was asking me to do, the
Angel was speaking again, but this time more fluently. "Tie me ... gag me ... p-
punish me. Please? Just ... like her."
I spoke to the gun barrel in my face. "Yes, right now. I want to do all that
right now."
The Angel sagged and fell to her knees in front of me. Our eyes locked. She
dropped the gun between us. "T-thank you . . . Ma-Master."
I snatched the weapon up, my head filled with visions of blasting her and
running like hell. But I knew I couldn't do it, and I also knew that this
particular Angel would be applying to have her label put to the test if Mr
Chaswell knew she'd participated in my escape.
I stood and offered her my hand. "C'mon. We have to get away from here first."
Her gloved hand took mine and together we ran.
*****
