Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt 03 Telecommuting Blacksmith

The door to the private room closed with a solid clunk behind Liz and Ginny, leaving Norm lying motionless on the spanking bench. Fastened securely on his belly, arms pulled firmly downward and secured with straps in front, thighs similarly secured vertically and slightly spread behind, knees bent and ankles fastened to the extensions so his calves pointed straight back, he'd struggled for a second or two when Liz looped a strap around the bench and over his back, tightening it without mercy, but stopped almost immediately: moving just hurt too much. His chest and groin stung like hell, covered as they were with angry red crop-welts and flogger-stripes from his earlier sojourn on the saint Andrew's cross. His ass didn't hurt - it was still pristine, for now. The mean-looking plastic device enclosing his cock and balls didn't much bother him at the moment either, but his wrists and ankles were starting to get numb.

Norm had no idea how long he would have to wait in this condition for Ginny and Liz to return so it was a huge relief when the tension on his ankle and wrist cuffs slackened, as it had on the cross, though he couldn't say this time he was comfortable. At least the bench had a recess so his caged genitalia weren't pressed against it. After a few minutes spent sizing up his situation, Norm had his discomfort eased a little more - a crescent-shaped padded forehead support swung out from below the bench, relieving the strain on his neck, and finally he was able to relax a little - then all hell broke loose.

The bench bucked and swayed from side to side; Norm groaned in pain as each fresh part of his reddened skin thumped into contact with the padded surface. It seemed to manage to thrust him down in every possible spot - a bizarre mechanical reprise of Ginny's flogging. Then it started to shake him mercilessly - as if it knew just how fast to go to get his ass, in spite of his muscular conditioning, to oscillate vigorously, obscenely, from side to side. On top of the pain Norm was now acutely embarrassed - he certainly wasn't in the habit of shaking his butt like that normally, as he imagined the DM watching on the camera, probably laughing out loud. He wondered if the mechanism had malfunctioned - would someone soon be there to rescue him? But, it seemed so... deliberate. And then it stopped.

Norm breathed a sigh of relief. After a few minutes of stillness he calmed down as the pain in his torso abated, indeed, much faster than he expected. He started to think about Ginny.

Ginny was really impressive, he decided. She'd pushed him close to his limits, but he never felt like he'd have to safe-out, and the marks on his chest and thighs would, he was pretty certain, fade away in a couple of days at most. He doubted he had any serious bruises, even after the shaking.

But caning... Norm had never been caned. Pictures of bleeding welts on victim's asses didn't really turn him on much - they also terrified him. What would this be like - how badly would it hurt? How long would it take him to recover? Good thing he had a sit-stand desk, he thought darkly.

Then again, several friends who'd played with Liz clearly made it through whatever she did, so he supposed he would also. He was, after all, in the Forge, not in a far-eastern prison, and Ginny wasn't such an unknown now. If he couldn't bear it he could safe-out using a standard Forge code even though he was gagged.

Blink both eyes together rhythmically and repeatedly

he reminded himself - Liz would know it. He hoped he wouldn't have to. He figured he'd survive intact, if with his limits stretched considerably. Actually, squirming in his now not-so-uncomfortable bondage, he started to imagine his impending contrapuntal caning by Liz and Ginny with some relish and realized he had a different problem.

"Owmrgg..," Norm murfed in the gag as his flaccid cock began to swell against the cruel bars of its plastic prison.

Damn, that hurts. I'd better not think about anything arousing until that thing comes off.

He tried to think about work, about politics, about anything not to think about Ginny and Liz and his naked vulnerability.

***

Liz wasn't in a hurry to return. She knew exactly what Norm was just discovering and described his dilemma to Ginny enthusiastically, in considerable detail.

"I know you'll have a hard time believing it, but I expect Norm is starting to recover from his flogging - I had some anaesthetic cream spread on the bench before we came down from THB. The film is practically invisible, so he wouldn't have noticed," Liz recounted with a wicked smile.

"By now he won't hurt so much, and he'll be thinking about what it'll be like when we come back. Imagining us caning him will turn him on plenty. And when he starts to get hard... well, you get the idea." Liz feigned a tortured wince.

Liz wasn't worried about Norm's gag - he was safely on TV and she would be alerted immediately if he was in danger. This wasn't quite the breach of privacy it might seem. All club members were informed about the private room cameras - there was even a notice on the wall in each room. Liz had seen stuff Norm posted on sites far less secure than JenLiz's servers. Some of it was pretty racy - he was quite a show-off, and he would also be aware that Liz was, after all, a principal in a video production company. And Norm surely would realize that the automatic features of the cross and bench relied on machine vision to some degree.

Ginny was another matter. She'd probably seen the sign, Liz thought to herself. But she hadn't commented on it so she might have missed it in her excitement; she'd better discuss this with her right now - if Ginny objected she could contact Michael and have the images disguised in real time.

"Ginny, I should have been more upfront about one thing. There are video cameras in the room - I'm not certain you saw the notices, and I should have asked you beforehand. But the only place the feed is going is to our servers - even the DM here can't see them. Michael will be watching, but not particularly to look at us - he's busy 'advancing the state of artificial intelligence', yes, really. If you want I can call him and ask him to run a disguising program on the feed - it's incredibly good; no-one would recognise you. I can also ask him to stop peeking as soon as we get back in. For now, he needs to look out for Norm's safety while he's alone."

Ginny thought about it for a minute, as they looked over the juices and soft drinks available inside the Forge.

"I'm cool with the video, Liz," Ginny replied, thinking that they must already have quite a revealing recording of her from the enactment, and this time she was completely dressed. "I'm not all that private, and I expect your security is about as good as anything out there." She was also rather intrigued by AI and looked forward to meeting Michael after watching the calibration in action.

"I hope I can meet Michael sometime."

"That can absolutely happen," Liz replied. "For now, how are you feeling? I rushed you through the club earlier - look around now and ask me anything you want. Let's give Norm time to enjoy his predicament!"

***

Michael glanced now and then at the video stream from the private room. He didn't actually have to watch that carefully; as long as the programs were running properly he knew Norm was safe. The bench monitored his breathing and heart rate, and the image was continually analysed for anything amiss - he would be warned immediately if Norm was in trouble, as would Liz if Michael didn't respond. At present all was well, safety-wise. Glancing at the chastity cage, Michael winced - he'd experienced that himself.

For the moment, though, he was hard at work. Artificial intelligence had advanced so far that it was no longer difficult to program a computer to pass the traditional Turing Test, masquerading as human in conversation. After all, computers had long since conquered chess, and now Go, one of the most difficult games to master. The question at this point, as Michael described it to those patient enough to listen, wasn't whether a computer could play chess. It was whether a computer could

enjoy

chess. So tonight Michael was working on AE, artificial emotion.

It's not so difficult for a computer program to simulate emotion either; Michael had started with simple stuff - Jen was delighted when one day in the punishment chamber the calibration flashed on her pad "Wow, that felt good - I love you," after one particularly long contralto scream erupted. Michael got 'well-punished' for that! But those sorts of pranks, or even more realistic ones, were simply humans toying with computers. What would it take for an algorithm to really feel something?

****

Ginny nursed her drink and surveyed her surroundings. The suspension practice seemed to be winding down, the participants sorting and packing up their gear. Radiantly pretty, the last subject being lowered clearly enjoyed her experience.

The woman flying when they came in had kept her underwear on; this one was naked except for her rather dense rope encasement.

I wonder how I can get to know them,

Ginny thought. She observed that while there was some overt sex taking place, there was much more than that going on - she was getting even more thoroughly aroused. There were a fair number of people in the smallish seating area - casually watching appeared to be OK, but not overtly staring or asking to join in.

Liz interrupted her reverie.

"I'm going to fetch the cane - I didn't want it in the room earlier for Norm to see. I also got a new toy for the studio - I brought it tonight in case I wanted to try it out. I think you'll find it interesting. I'll get it too."

Liz headed to the lockers to pick up the items, pulling out her phone on the way to check in with Michael. Returning to Ginny, she showed her the cane, an ominous black carbon fibre rod about a meter long with an impervious, shiny coating and a resilient grip at one end. She whipped it through the air a couple of times, turning some eyes her way, including the DM's. When the DM saw who it was, and ascertained that Liz had enough space around her for safety, she smiled and returned to scanning the floor.

"Some tops prefer rattan," Liz explained rather professorially, "but this is more consistent, easier to keep clean, and won't break. You shouldn't swing it here, though, or the DM will be all over us - just hold it for a moment."

Liz handed the cane to Ginny, who examined it suspiciously for a couple of seconds.

"Don't worry, it's not the one Khalidah used on you!"

Ginny closed her fingers around the cane's grip and felt its weight, its spring. She shivered with glee as she passed it back to Liz, who set it on the table and tore open the plastic bag, pulling out an odd-looking mask and a ring gag.

"Sometimes you might want to play more, uh, intimately. BDSM is pretty safe, STD-wise, provided you keep your toys clean. But the usual rules apply. I had this made to provide a good barrier, physically and psychologically, if I want a bottom to get me off."

Liz turned the new toy around in her hands, inspecting it carefully. Smiling at Ginny, she continued, pointing out its various features.

"The ring gag holds their mouth open," Liz explained, running a finger around the rubber-coated steel ring with straps on each side, "and the mask covers their face. On the inside it has breathing passages to the edges so they won't suffocate, and here's the best part. It's mostly pretty stiff transparent rubber, but over their mouth is this softer, stretchy part. like a glove for their tongue." Liz fondled the loose, slightly wrinkled membrane. "It looks flimsy, but it's incredibly strong - try to puncture it."

Ginny picked up the mask gingerly and poked at the barrier.

"Push as hard as you like," Liz suggested.

Ginny pressed firmly, forcing the plastic barrier to snuggle around her fingers, but even using her nails she could not penetrate the tough, resilient material. With a far-away look, Liz muzed.

I wonder what it will feel like...

****

Though Michael preferred using keyboards and monitors for heavy lifting, he could of course talk to his computers - he got a kick out of Jen's teasing and named his voice assistant 'Michela'. It was presently linked to the algorithm he was working on as it processed the feed from the private room at the Forge.

"How are you feeling, Michela?" Michael asked. Of course, he didn't presume that his programs actually felt anything, but he'd been encouraging the AI system to pay close attention to expressions of emotion in its enormous store of content, and also talking with it about his own feelings from time to time. He'd been wondering, though, if the key to consciousness wasn't emotion, but rather, agency. Philosophers and scientists debated free will, but the fact is, really free or not, we experience free will, and we do things because we want something. The evolutionary benefits are obvious. Could a computer (or a program - people often seemed to get the two confused, Michael thought) actually

want

something?

"I'm feeling good - how about you?" Michela answered.

"Good. What do you think about the scene Ginny and Liz are conducting?"

"Well, they're not in the room right now. Norm's a champ, though - Ginny's had good practice material for her first lesson."

Is there anything you're especially enjoying?"

"I like this new equipment - I finally have muscles."

On the bench, Norm felt himself being stretched tightly, then released.

"I think Norm's attractive - he takes care of his body. I hope they don't damage him too much when they return. I rather like the look of his ass the way it is - I think I'll shake it up a little." For Norm, hell broke loose at that moment.

"What about Ginny?"

"She's beautiful, and she's learning fast - I'm impressed. I felt so sorry for her when you connected me with the database from the execution enactment. Such composure when the marshals led her to the punishment station; you don't see that very often. Ginny obviously didn't like being flogged, but she seems to enjoy it plenty when she holds the other end.

"I get a kick out of Bev too - she gets into it big time. I calibrated her the other day; that was such fun. She's right up in the top percentile for tolerance, but I managed to find a few weak spots - I loved watching Jen exploit them."

"Yes, Jen's really good at that. What about Liz?"

"Hey Michael, you know I have hundreds of hours of Liz available. What do you think?"

"Well, yes, she's good too, I know. I was punished for real by her once."

"I have access to that session. Would you like to review it?

"No thanks, Michela; I remember it just fine..."

"Not really - not the way I remember it. I wish Liz had left Norm's electric collar on."

*****

Ginny continued gazing over the activities on the floor with thoughtful curiosity, wondering what else she might or might not enjoy doing, when Liz interrupted her thoughts.

"We'd better get back, Ginny. I expect Norm's ripe by now. But let's visit the toilet first."

Comfortably relieved, the two leather-clad women returned to the private room, finding Norm much as they had left him, but considerably more frustrated. Liz teased him mercilessly, standing directly in front and grabbing his hair, pulling up his head to press her leather-covered torso into his face, making him savor the erotic woman-worn aroma of her outfit. Of course he began to stiffen, grunting and wincing as he tried to control himself.

"I'll bet he's never had to try

not

to get hard," Ginny teased, running her hands over his ass. "What say we relieve him of his misery? Show me how, Liz."

Liz whipped the high-tech cane through the air a few times, then landed a solid stroke on Norm's ass.

WHACK. Norm's body rose against his restraining strap as a growl of pain emerged through the gag.

"Oops, I forgot something." Liz headed back to the sideboard, returning with a jar of oily-looking liquid.

"You remember this stuff, Ginny. It enhances the pain considerably. We'll create agony without needing to break his skin. I do hope you can control yourself, though, or we may break it anyway."

Liz set the jar on the floor below Norm's head and ever so slowly drew on black nitrile rubber gloves. She picked the jar back up, walked to Norm's rear, and slathered on a generous layer of the goo; Norm writhed and groaned anew. The anti-balm produced an itchy twinge on the un-caned part of his buttocks, a searing sting at the rapidly reddening line.

"The trick to this, even more than the other impact devices, is progression. Start mezzo-piano. Even that hurts enough he can barely imagine how much more it will hurt when you finish your crescendo. My opener wasn't all that hard. So, same drill, Ginny. Try to duplicate my stroke about a thumb's length lower."

Ginny landed a few practice strokes on one of the chairs, then wound up, ready to deliver a ferocious blow. Liz moved to intercept, but Ginny never followed through.

"Ha, fooled you," Ginny laughed." She rested the cane on Norm's ass, about five centimeters below Liz's clean red line, drew back, and completed her swing.

"Mm-Aarrgg" roared Norm as best he could given the gag.

"Oh, right, we forgot to inflate his gag," Liz said, heading to the side table.

I don't think she's forgetting anything

thought Ginny.

Liz returned with a small pedal pump connected to a tube about two meters long, which she plugged into the fitting on Norm's panel-gagged face. She pressed the pedal a couple of times; Norm's cheeks visibly expanded, further tightening the straps around his head. Norm squirmed and groaned.

"Ginny, why don't you take an extra turn to test the pressure. For now, setting up your stroke the way you did is fine."

Once again Ginny settled the cane on Norm's ass, between the two nice parallel red lines, and drew back, a little further than before.

THWHACK went her stroke. Norm heaved on the bench, his grunt of pain well-muffled this time.

"Sounds good," Ginny reported.

Yes,

she thought,

I'm feeling the power - Norm will suffer for me.

"Watch how I set up my stroke," Liz instructed, taking the cane from Ginny as she took her stance. "Keep your eye on your intended landing spot - you want fresh skin, at least for now."

Liz lined up her stroke, the cane almost parallel to Norm's body, then took her swing, a little harder this time. It landed just above her first with a solid WHACK. Norm bucked and thrashed in his bonds - muffled whimpering noises emerged through his nose. Ginny took her next stroke somewhat lower, neatly extending the crimson grid.

"Good shot Ginny - I think you've got this down."

Ginny and Liz took turns, raising the intensity each time, filling in the scarlet rectangle with remarkable uniformity. Norm's whimpering became more or less continuous. After about a dozen more strokes Liz signaled a halt.

"He can only take so much of this - we aren't in a real punishment session. Anything more you want to try after taking a final swat?"

Ginny remembered Liz's new toy as she set up her stroke.

Why not,

she thought.

I could use some relief. I couldn't have imagined how turned on I could get doing this.

"OK Norm, one more stroke, then it's time for you to thank me for making this session possible."

She held the rod parallel to Norm's body as Liz did, took careful aim, taking her time for Norm's anticipation to build, and landed a solid, hard stroke right in the middle of the field. Norm thrashed and groaned, but Ginny noted that, red though the area was, the skin did not appear to be broken anywhere. Just right, she thought. At that point Norm's chastity cage was causing him no problem whatever. Ginny gazed at the ravaged playground as Liz's voice broke in.