“Make sure your makeup and hair are perfect for tonight. We are going for the record.”
That was all the instructions Master had given her when he told her to clean herself for display. They were going to the club, that was obvious. Master was going to do something with her on stage. That also was obvious. But what?
It wasn’t a slave’s place to know what her Master desired, but usually Master gave some sort of hint as to what was going to happen. He might say, “I am going to really warm you ass tonight.” Or perhaps, “You will be dancing without music tonight when I turn on the tens unit.” Such little hints enabled Gloria to prepare herself for what was to come.
Master didn’t call her Gloria. Master called her “slave” or “slut” or “peas.” When he called her peas at the club he would almost always have to explain that it stood for “positively perfect pain slut.” And she was.
As she was growing up, sex was nothing to her. For some reason she didn’t get the pleasure that others talked about. Sometimes there was a feeling of release, but release from what? There was no peak from which to fall screaming as many of her friends claimed they did.
In college she decided that maybe the problem was that she was lesbian. So, she tried sex with a couple of other coeds. Actually she tried sex with a rather large number of other coeds. Still nothing.
Then she slept with the wrong girl. Or, more specifically she slept with the wrong woman’s girlfriend. Gloria and Vicki were in the classic 69 position on the Vicki’s bed when the door to the bedroom slammed open and a woman’s voice screamed out, “I told you what would happen if you brought another of your sluts back to my house.”
Vicki was on top, so when the heavy belt that the woman was swinging slammed down, it landed squarely on Vicki’s ass. In shock, Gloria pulled her face back from Vicki’s delicious cunt, but Vicki yelled, “No, Gloria. Keep going. Keep going.” And so she did.
Then something happened that had never happened before. Hearing Vicki cry out with each loud slap of the belt started a fire in Gloria’s belly. No, it was more than a fire. It was molten lava moving out from between her legs. It was heat and light and hunger- hunger for the belt that was turning Vicki’s ass red and purple.
“Roll over,” she suddenly said, and Vicki answered, “What?”
“I want the belt,” she answered. “I need the belt. Please, roll over!”
Vicki fell to her side and Gloria completed the roll, coming up on top of Vicki with her head still buried between Vicki’s legs. As she did, the belt swished past her head and slapped into the bed.
“So you want some, too,” the unknown woman’s voice said with a sneer, and suddenly Gloria’s ass exploded. The pain was tremendous, but the lava fountain between her legs turned from red-hot to white-hot and began to spread throughout her body. She could feel her body trembling and her head was shaking so hard that she could not continue nuzzling Vicki for fear that she would bite her tongue.
Blow after blow slammed into her now bright red ass. Then the volcano erupted. This wasn’t release, this was explosive ecstasy. She lost control of her body. Her arms were flailing. Her legs were kicking. Her bladder emptied onto Vicki’s face. Then everything faded into a white haze.
When she came to, she found herself lying on her back looking up into the face of Professor Montgomery.., only the professor wasn’t dressed as Gloria had ever seen her in class. She was wearing a tight latex outfit that looked something like a combination of a corset and swimsuit. On her legs were knee-high shiny, black boots. Her hands were encased in matching gloves that came to her elbows.
“Well,” she said with a deep laugh, “that was a first. I’ve never had a girl totally pop her circuits from just a belt and some cunt lapping. I’d love to see what you could do if I warmed you up properly.” She smiled and then asked Gloria, “Do you respond like that every time?”
Gloria looked back at the professor with wide eyes and answered, almost with fear in her voice, “I’ve never done anything like that before. Was that an orgasm?”
The professor and Vicki both began laughing and laughed almost uncontrollably for several minutes. Finally Vicki contained herself enough to say, “You’ve slept with almost every man in this college and a good portion of the women and you don’t know what an orgasm is?”
“No,” answered Gloria meekly. “I’ve never had one before. I’ve tried men. I’ve tried toys. I’ve tried porn. I’ve tried girls. I’ve tried combinations of all of them, but nothing ever really happened. At least, nothing like what happened tonight.”
“Let’s see,” said the professor. “Men didn’t do it. Toys or raunchy stories don’t work for you. Girls aren’t really your flavor. But you explode like Mount Vesuvius when I beat your ass.”
She pointed her finger at Gloria. “You, my honey, are a positively perfect pain slut. It takes pain to trip your trigger.” She smiled and her voice became soft and deep. “And I know just the place to find someone to pop your circuits regularly.”
The professor introduced her to life at the club and gave her the sub name, “peas.” Actually it was Vicki who gave her that name. That first night, while she was still lying spent on the bed, the professor asked herself out loud, “What should we call you, my positively perfect pain slut?”
Vicki had suggested, “P,P,P,S” and the professor responded, “Too many Ps.”
Then she smiled broadly and said, “Yes, that’s it. Peas.” Addressing Gloria directly she continued, “You will love it at the club, my precious little pea.”
Gloria did love it at the club. It was there that she realized that she sort of preferred men, but women or toys or whatever were OK as long as there was pain involved. Pain without a man or a woman or a toy or getting in the proper mood with some really good porn was just pain. But if her body was even slightly sexually stimulated, then the pain wasn’t really pain. It was the road to ecstasy.
Eventually she met Master. He understood her needs. A few of the others that she had allowed to play with her had not. They thought pain alone was her goal. They thought pain was enough, or that she craved pain.