Chapter 4 : Four Weeks Later
In the event, although George managed several times to not be erect for his pillory sessions, he soon stiffened each time under the pressure of the clamp, even if his poor bruised flesh finally surrendered its tumescence each time under the onslaught from Lady Christina's paddlings. Mostly she was using the leather paddle now, which soon reduced his shaft to swollen mush. He was dreading the time limit Madame had imposed, knowing each day how few chances were left. What was worse, he started imagining what might she impose once he reached her deadline. That had the perverse effect of making him even more aroused by the time the session commenced, because his mind drifted while he laboured in the gardens as he imagined what she had in mind, imaginings which of course only expressed his innermost fantasies. For in reality she gave no clues, no inkling of what she was thinking. She merely tut-tutted as if in mild exasperation each time as she wound the screws down; and so firmly, so convincingly was his shaft held horizontal when engorged, so blatantly did it project forwards, that he knew in his own mind that it needed to be punished for its impertinence.
In the event, the final time was an anti-climax. He knew in advance he would fail. He had been erect and drooling for much of the day, and when his collar buzzed he started from his task, his cock bounced reflexly as his sphincter puckered in fear and excitement of what might be going to happen to him. His erection preceded him into the house, remained just as hard while he rinsed his back passage and carefully shaved himself while in the shower, although he resolutely avoided even the slightest touch, and it greeted the two women jubilantly as they entered the room. Part of him cringed in shame; part of him was joyously excited. What conflicting emotions ruled him!
Madame regarded him for a while, not saying anything. Pauline smirked widely, standing a pace behind her employer's shoulder.
"I might have known it would come to this. Having you caged is not really aesthetically what I wanted. What are we to do with you, I wonder?"
He stood silently, his cock bobbing in excitement, betraying him with every movement, every twitch.
"OK. Let's start by having you pierced. Perhaps we can restrain that errant thing a little. Pauline will take you to town once I've organised it. Pauline, tether him as usual please."
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Several days later - still bruised and swollen from Madame's parting session, where she used the heavy strop for so long he seemed to phase out; not quite passing out but becoming somewhat mentally removed from the action and the pain - the day of his piercing arrived. He brought the car to the front entrance himself, taking care to place a towel on the seat before he entered, then waited beside it for further instructions. Pauline eventually emerged from the house and indicated he should get into the boot. Was that her instruction from Madame, or a sadistic twist of her own?
He was driven, naked and cramped, for perhaps twenty minutes. Then he heard Pauline's steps come to a stop before the boot. She lifted the lid and indicated brusquely that he should get out. Cautiously, nervously, he emerged, expecting them to be in some private yard or carpark. But no, the car was parked in what seemed like a side-street in a small town. There were trees and residences, and small blocks of offices or shops at several points distant. His heart pounded. What did she expect him to do? He was relieved to see only the occasional person in the distance, probably morning shoppers of the elderly kind.
"The studio is just around that corner there to the right. There's no parking in that street. I know you'll love displaying yourself, slut!"
He looked around. It was perhaps only twenty metres to the corner. But who might see him when he reached the intersection? He looked pleadingly at Pauline for mercy, but there was only condescension on her face.
"If you don't move, I'm driving back to the estate. As it is, Nancy told me it should only take forty minutes, and I'm going for a coffee. Now, are you moving or not?" Her chin went up in challenge.
He had no choice. In the minute they had been conversing, he had seen no one nearby. It seemed his fate, perhaps, to proclaim his slutty servitude to the world. He had to trust the Universe. Cautiously he walked towards the corner as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself.
Just as he reached the corner of the building on the intersection, he heard a vehicle approaching from down the street. There was a doorway! He ducked into it, watching intently as the vehicle passed through the intersection. Then he poked his head around the doorway; just another twenty metres or so, he could see the sign for the tattoo studio. He made the door with no further crisis and pushed it, but it was locked. Desperately, he looked around. To one side, there was a small intercom.
"Hello? I believe Madame Christine made an appointment for me. Is anyone there?"
A woman's distorted voice came through the small speaker, just as there was a click. "Hi there. Press the door again, please."
He did, and was relieved that it opened immediately. He glanced around the street, hoping no strangers were witness to his shameful exhibition. The entrance led to a short passage, which opened out onto the studio, neatly presented with tiled surfaces and pictures of tattoo art.
The woman appeared; thick-set, crop-headed, and tattooed. She shook his hand as if there was not a naked man standing before her. "Hi! I'm Nancy. Let's get started. We already know what we're doing, don't you? No, probably not; Christina's subs never do."
She led him to a chair, somewhat like a dentist chair, but with straps. She noted his apprehensive glances. "Well, we don't want you jumping around, do we? What I do depends on accuracy and hygiene. I take care of the hygiene; the chair takes care of the accuracy! Jump aboard, boy!"
He settled nervously into the chair. What had Madame ordered? With no hesitation, the lady placed his wrists and legs where she wanted them, and attached leather straps over each limb. Then there were more straps he hadn't noticed, pinning down his upper limbs, then his chest and his hips. She moved quickly around the chair, buckling each leather belt in turn, making him more helpless, then returning to cinch them all further until he was able to wriggle only slightly.
"Now, the 'pièce de résistance'," she chortled. She pressed a button on a control box. Gradually his knees were raised. The chair separated into parts, with both his leg pieces rising up towards his shoulders, widely exposing his sex and anus. The woman came around and casually handled his genitals.
"You've certainly taken some punishment. Been a bad boy, eh?" She patted his balls none too softly. "Now we've got a real work space, no? OK, so as you wear a cock ring, we'd better put theguiche punch in front of that, if I'm thinking right on what your Mistress is wanting."
She reached for her tray and carefully marked a spot in front of the ring, at the base of his scrotum.
"Now let's get that ring off so I've got room to move." She manipulated his tenderest tissues confidently but not gently, sliding the ring off and placing it on the tray.
Inside, he was all panicked excitement. What was planned for him? Surely not his innermost turn-on, his most shameful desire. Was he going to be gelded? He was considerably aroused, yet his cock, while definitely flushed and slightly drooling, was still only that way because it was recovering from his recent pillory session. It remained at half-mast, even though, if he closed his eyes, he felt completely erect. What was happening to him?
The lady returned with a stainless tray of materials. "Let's get you sterilised first." She swabbed all his genital tissues generously with Betadine, then donned rubber gloves. "So, we have two piercings today, mister, and they are both pretty straight-forward. I'll give you a gel to apply for the next few days to avoid infections, but there's very little risk of problems, actually. Let's do the easiest first. Sorry, but Miss Christine insists there's no pain relief." She dropped her voice sotto voce, "But really, neither of these hurt much. It's just her privilege. After all, she's paying."
She took something from the tray. He didn't want much to see, although he wanted to remember everything. Such conflicted feelings!
"Your Mistress has specified these quite large piercings, so that we can introduce a thick ring in each. It's much thicker than normal for a starter piercing, so I'm using a kind of punch, which actually removes a core of tissue rather than just opening a passage. You'll probably hear a kind of crunching sound as it goes through the tissue, but it isn't much more painful than a standard piercing. Here we go. Post-scrotal first."
George felt her take hold of skin behind his scrotum where she had marked, then a pinching. "There, that's the clamp in place. Now, take a really deep breath, hold it as long as you can, then let it out.
George complied, but even as he was holding it, he felt an intense pain, some kind of clicking sound, and then a continuous painful ache. He winced and moaned loudly.
