Extracurricular Activities Ch 06

The weekend went by without much incident. Chris worked hard at the restaurant and Sarah took care of his wounds at the end of his shift. Johnny would peek his head in the office and see how he was healing up. The veterans would look on at Chris' back; Johnny would say something like 'How could a kid take that?' and Sarah would tell him that he was a good boy. Chris brushed their comments off, he had blocked out most of the pain as it was happening, choosing instead to focus on something else like how happy he must have been making Cat as he took her punishment. Now he knew better. Now he knew that she was just a sadist, a woman who degraded and used men.

His heart was filled with sorrow. He hadn't seen Leslie outside of school since Wednesday when Cat had whipped him. They had their tryst in the darkroom on Thursday, but he longed to hold her in his arms. He didn't want her to see the marks on his back and think he was a freak. She texted him and asked him if he wanted to go out. He would reply back that he had plans or was feeling tired or Sarah wanted him to come in early. He hated lying to her. Sunday Chris spent his day off hiding in his room, curled up under his blankets, watching TV. There was a knock at his door and his heart skipped a beat as his tattooed lover poked her head in.

"Hey," she said softly, the sound of her voice making him want to melt. "Still not feeling well?" she asked as she entered his bedroom and closed the door behind her.

"Yeah, sorry," he lied, "Sarah's been running me ragged since Thursday and I think I'm fighting off some bug that's going around."

Leslie smiled and lifted the covers, curling up with him. His senses were assaulted with the very essence of her; her scent, her soft skin, the visage of her body as it fit so perfectly within his. He sighed and pulled her closer, the two whiling away the hours in each other's arms.

Chris had drifted off to sleep and awoke to find himself alone. Alone: apparently the theme of the week. He rolled onto his back, the healing welts still causing that now familiar sting.

Monday Chris rode to school, suffered through History and English and quickly darted out of class, avoiding Cat. He ate lunch with Leslie, walked her to her class and then raced to Biology, followed by P.E. class. He ran around the track for a bit, clearing his head of his nagging thoughts about Ms. Callahan. Changing early, he ran to Leslie's locker to wait for her. He offered Leslie a ride home, dropping her off and heading to his own house for homework, dinner and sleep.

Tuesday started off the same. As Chris was about to leave English class, Cat stopped him and delayed his exit. He sighed and waited for the rest of the class to let out before going over to her desk.

"Chris, this Wednesday evening I'm scheduled to do a demo at a club. My previous assistant can't make it. I'm going to need you to do it," she said nonchalantly as she packed up her things. She treated it like she was a magician and he was just supposed to hold some props while she waved a magic wand. Abracadabra! He knew her intentions were to beat him or humiliate him or both!

"I can't Ms. Callahan. I have plans Wednesday night," he lied.

She looked into his eyes with a coldness that chilled him to his soul, "You better cancel them or I'll make your life a living hell. For starters I'll fail you in this class," she threatened. Chris gulped hard, trying the quell the nausea he felt as his stomach churned. He nodded to his teacher and turned to leave. "Meet me at my house at seven sharp! Wear something nice!" she hollered.

He was silent and motionless as he sat with Leslie for lunch. The gears were turning in his head, his brain trying to fathom what his sadistic teacher had in store for him. The bell rang, wrenching him from his thoughts. He grabbed his untouched slice of pizza and moved to get up but a soft hand touched his shoulder.

"What's wrong, Chris?" Leslie's melodious voice asked, her concern genuine. "You haven't been yourself since last Thursday. Was it something I did," she said referring to their rendezvous in the darkroom. He looked at her big doe eyes and her bottom lip jutting out in an irresistible pout and he visibly softened. Chris' mind was still so burdened but he knew she would make him feel better. He grabbed the small of her back and pulled her close, frenching her deeply. He didn't give a shit who saw as he probed her mouth with his tongue in the middle of the cafeteria. He could feel her heart pounding through her chest. He could smell the scent of her perfume. He could taste her sweet mouth.

Reluctantly they both broke the kiss before it escalated into something they'd really get in trouble for. "Leslie, you could never do anything wrong," he professed. The woman blushed pink, her hair matching her face. She pecked him on the cheek and scampered to class. As soon as she was out of sight Chris heard the bell ring. He cursed, threw his pizza away and ran to History class. Thankfully there was a substitute who hadn't yet made it to the G's when calling roll. He slipped in unnoticed and raised his hand when the teacher called 'Chris Gaiten.'

The final bell rang and Chris was once again waiting for Leslie by her locker. She smiled and blushed and he offered to give her a ride home. They left together in his old Toyota, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh as he drove. He loved how she could make everything better with just a touch, a simple smile or a few words of encouragement. He wanted to be so much more for her; a protector, a confidant, a lover.

As he pulled up to her house, Leslie sighed pitifully. No one was home at her house again and she'd be spending most of the night alone. Chris, sending her apprehension and loneliness, put his hand on hers and spoke cheerfully, "I'm off tonight and I don't have any homework, wanna go see a movie?" he suggested. She smiled and asked him to wait a minute. Not being a very girlie girl, he was a bit taken aback when she came out with a fairly large black purse. He just shrugged it off until she began pulling bags of chips and boxes of candy from it. He laughed as she showed off her stash spread out across her lap.

"The snacks at the theater are always so expensive! I've got Runts and M&Ms and some little bags of potato chips," she said, rattling things off as she put them bag in her bag. They arrived at the theater and bought tickets for the afternoon matinée of a zombie film. Leslie loved the blood and guts and gore and Chris, while enjoying the movie too, was just glad to make her happy. The roughly two hours at the movies went by so quickly and soon they were headed back towards Leslie's house.

Chris escorted her to her empty house. He wanted so badly to take her upstairs and ravage her, but his timidness made making the first move a Herculean feat. Always the gentleman, he kissed her on the cheek and wished her a good evening. He headed home himself, his mind reverting back to Cat's request for his company the following day, the ball of nervousness reappearing in his stomach.

He went to his room and flicked on the TV, hoping for a mindless distraction. After a while, his mom knocked on the door and told him dinner was ready. He ate and told his parents he wouldn't be home until late tomorrow, working on a project with his friend Tyler. He hated lying in general, but lying to his family was a task he particularly loathed. He couldn't tell them he was going to a club tomorrow to potentially be abused by his English teacher to avoid failing her class. After dinner he wet to his room to pack a bag for tomorrow evening.

"What do you wear to a fetish club?" he asked himself aloud. He threw his shiny leather dress shoes in the bottom of the back pack with a pair of black socks and a leather belt. He spied his silk shirt and added it to his bag with his nicest dress pants and a silver-colored tie. Curling up under his blankets for the night, he tried to sleep. Two hours later when sleep finally found him, it was fitful and frightful.

~~~~~

Chris arrived at Cat's house at a quarter to seven. The gates were open and he drove up the driveway and parked his old Toyota behind a sleek new Porche Carrera. He would have given his right nut to be able to drive that car to the club. Getting out he climbed the few stairs on the porch that led to the front door. As he moved to ring the bell, the door swung open and Cat pulled him inside roughly. She was dressed in a severe-looking shiny black and red latex corset and skirt set. Her patent leather boots went all the way up her thigh and her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She looked him up and down, not satisfied with the outfit he had chosen.

"Is that the only thing you have to wear to a fetish club? A pair of polyester trousers and a cheap silk dress shirt?" she said, degrading him a bit. He wanted to shout that he was only a kid but knew it would only serve to make her angry. He apologized that he had nothing else to wear. She took him down the hall to a door just past the dungeon. Cat opened the door and pulled him inside, flicking on the recessed lighting built into the ceiling.

The room was a giant walk-in closet. One side seemed to be devoted to her dominatrix clothing; lots of black latex, leather and lace. The other side had all kinds of outfits from typical male fetish wear to sissy maid uniforms to big diapers. She rifled through the hangers until she found what she was looking for. Throwing a pair of black leather pants at him she told him to strip and put them on. He took off his shoes and pants and began putting the leather on over his boxers. She glared at him.

"You can't fucking wear boxers under leather pants!" she said, irritated. He took all of his clothes off this time and pulled the pants up on his waist. The leather felt like butter on his skin and he enjoyed it as it caressed his manhood. She pulled a blood red silk shirt off the rack and gave it to him to put on. This silk put his cheaper one to shame with it's softness. He pulled his tie over his head, slid his dress shoes on and looked to his mistress for approval. She nodded and opened a drawer. Inside was a collection of collars and she picked a black one with a matte finish and shiny steel buckle and fastened it around his neck. She clipped a leather lead to the D ring and finally seemed satisfied with his appearance.

Cat led him to the Porche in the driveway. Being a gentleman, he opened the driver's side door for her and helped her get in. Jogging to the other side, he climbed in, the car so low to the ground that it was hard for a man so tall to get in and out of it. Turning the key in the ignition, the auto roared to life. She shifted the standard transmission into gear and sped off down the path towards the main road. Cat drove the car well but Chris would have loved to have been the one pounding the clutch and taking the tight turns. It would have helped to take his mind off the uncertainty of the evening's events.

His stomach turned as he thought about her words to him. 'Was she going to flog him in public?' he asked himself. 'It couldn't be as bad as when she did it in private, there'd be witnesses,' he thought. He wanted to throw up, to open the car door and roll out onto the street below to escape this sadistic woman.

They exited the highway and pulled into town. It wasn't long before they had arrived in front of a very nondescript building with a doorman and valet waiting for them. The doorman, a burly white guy dressed in a three-piece suit opened the door for Chris while the valet in a red shirt and black slacks went to the driver's side and helped Cat from the car.

"Take good care of my baby, Jack," she said, handing off the keys to the young valet. She grabbed Chris' leash and led him inside. The club was set up as a semi-circle. Center stage was a bright spot along the back flat wall, several lights positioned to illuminate the main attraction. The rest of it was dimly lit with couches and large soft ottomans that could have doubled as beds in a pinch. The shadows were filled with people in various fetish attire, mostly in shades of red and black, the uniform for the bondage scene. Chris looked around, some of the patrons were wearing masks to hide their faces and he wondered what they had to hide.

Soft classical music played as Chris made his way to the platform where a St. Andrew's Cross was affixed. He continued to scan the crowd, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter, all eyes on him. He spotted a flash of royal blue, a woman in a blue corset and short black mini skirt sat close to the stage. She stood out like a sore thumb in such a rich color. Her eyes met his.

Johnny had to hold Sarah down as she struggled to get up so she could go to Chris. Both Chris and Johnny were unsure if it was to free him or wring his neck. Johnny spoke to her softly and held her close as Chris marched onward towards his fate at the hands of Cat-o-Nine-Tails. They stood near the cross and a gentleman in chain mail and leather chaps came out.

"Welcome my unconventional conventionists!" he said, quoting Rocky Horror Picture Show. "Tonight is sure to be a most entertaining night. Miss Cat has brought us her newest slave and this one's a real masochist!" he announced. "So everyone just sit back, relax and enjoy!"

Cat took her cue and bowed to the assembly. She pulled him roughly by the leash and brought him closer to the cross. He assumed the position and she ripped his shirt off dramatically and strapped him down. He figured if he obeyed her and gave her no reason to be angry that she would be more lenient. Sarah sat on her ottoman, with Johnny at her feet, fuming. Johnny had reminded her that Chris was a grown adult, capable of making his own decisions.

"There must be another reason," she whispered into Johnny's ear through clenched teeth.

The emcee rolled out a cart that looked like an ornate table on wheels. On top were various whips, paddles, floggers and the like. The crowd was transfixed as the young man sat tied to the cross, Cat contemplating which she would use first. Cat grasped a heavy wooden paddle in her hands and came close to Chris. Winding up, the plank made a resounding crack as it struck the flesh on his bony behind. The noise was harsher than the blow, the sound causing him to jump. The crowd drew in a collective gasp as he took two more in quick succession.

She bored easily of the paddle; it was much more fun to chase someone with it than to hit someone while their were immobilized. Stalking back to the cart, Cat picked up a leather flogger, testing the feel of it through the air. He waited in anticipation for the first strike that landed on his shoulder. It wasn't too harsh and he relaxed into it. It felt like a deep tissue massage; the pressure was deep and the sting from the tassels warmed his back.

'If this is how it's going to be, I can withstand it,' he reassured himself, lowering his head and taking the abuse. A sudden sharp crack came across his back that echoed through the club, the pain snapping him out of his moment of reflection. He howled at the sudden onslaught. He didn't know where she had gotten the riding crop, its lash marks glowing crimson across his newly healed back. The audience was wrapped up in the drama that was unfolding before them. Sarah was on the edge of her seat, restrained by Johnny again. A few more strikes and a few more stripes and she discarded the flogger and crop onto the floor. Chris panted, his back smarting.

A sinister smile crept over her face as Cat perused the cart and made her selection but Chris could tell by the look on the other patrons' faces that it wasn't good. He could see Sarah on the verge of tears, struggling to get to him, Johnny looking away as he held Sarah back with all the strength in his body. Without warning, he heard the bull whip crack and the tail left an instant welt on his back. The pain was excruciating. It felt as if he were being stabbed. He would have screamed had the pain not stolen the air from his lungs. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape, his mind trying to make sense of what was going on. There was no escaping into the recesses of his mind for this one.

As the whip whizzed through the air and connected along the small of his back, his body writhed in agony. He closed his eyes and forced back tears. He swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip to avoid shouting his safe word. Trying to collect his thoughts, he was interrupted by another strike from the bull whip. He shouted a loud and long "FUCK!" as he shook in his bonds. The whole assembly was silent, all on edge, feeling like something was not right about all this. They looked to Domme in blue, held down by her submissive, for the confirmation they needed. Another dominant would not have such a lack of decorum during an exposition unless something was wrong. The emcee was about to put a halt to it all when Cat struck her submissive three times, hard enough to draw blood each time.

Sarah roared, grabbed Johnny by the throat and threw him to the ground. He lay there sputtering as she rushed to the stage and tackled Cat. Seizing the whip, she wrenched it from the sadistic dominatrix. Sarah straddled Cat and with her hands on either side of the long handle, she pressed it to the woman's windpipe and bore down on it, intending to strangle the evil woman.

The crowd was shocked. Johnny got up, coughing, and tried to pull Sarah off Cat. It took Johnny, the emcee and another strong Dom to keep the woman in blue from killing Chris' assailant. When finally wrestled off, Sarah ran to Chris, adrenaline pumping. Her young apprentice was suspended by his restraints, his knees giving out after the second blow. Blood trickled down his back, his face void of color. She motioned for help and two submissive men came over and hoisted Chris back up, holding him there while Sarah unfastened the bonds that kept him aloft. Freed, he slumped over, his whole body awash in suffering and anguish. They lowered him gingerly onto the floor on his side and Sarah sat near his head, tears streaming down her face as she stroked the young man's head.

Johnny looked on at his distraught lover and young friend and the fury welled up inside him. "What did you do?" he snarled at Cat.

"I didn't do anything he didn't want," she said coldly.

Johnny slapped her across the face and she looked at him in astonishment, "I know you better than that, Cat Callahan, I was once your slave too. You can do some sick and twisted shit to get your way. What did you do? Threaten him? Blackmail him?" he asked, his last question eliciting a flicker of response across her face. Johnny knew Cat too well for her own good. "You blackmailed him! You fucking cunt!" Johnny roared, the whole club's attention shifting from the injured boy crumpled on the floor to the angry submissive accusing extortion.

"Is that true?" Sarah whispered to Chris and he simply nodded, his body feeling in shock. The lynch mob formed around Cat and the emcee tried to calm everyone back down. She had broken the cardinal rules of 'Safe, Sane, Consensual' and the gang was out for blood. Chris stared in Sarah's eyes, warmed by her compassion for him. "Let's get out of here," Sarah said, "Can you get up?"

Chris pushed himself onto his hands and knees, wincing through the pain. Sarah called over the two men that helped out earlier and each one took an arm, gently and with care to not injure him further. They got Chris to his feet and held him up as he took his arduous steps out of the club. The door opened and the cool night air enveloped him, giving his hot skin some relief. Sarah motioned for Jack to go get her car. He pulled the blue Kia with the DRGNFLY license plates around and left the driver's door open for her.

"What's going on in there," Jack asked, hearing the rabble inside. Johnny joined them outside and helped the two volunteers load the young man carefully into the car, resting him on his stomach along the length of the back seat. Chris felt as though he was going to throw up and breathed deeply to try and calm himself.