Palace of Pain

The breaking of pool balls were echoing throughout the room. The clinking of glasses were shining as everyone was yelling, "Cheers!" Everyone was in a grand mood but the one that was the happiest was the one everyone called, "Meme". Although that was not her real name, she was the happiest, of the group. As everyone sat around her, they were smiling as she was the one who radiated grand times, joy, peace, and the one who would give the greatest memories.

Memories... what were they? Hugs, beauty, laughter, golden days, cheer and what few knew but loved the most was quite the cherished moment bestowed to few. Yes, even though she radiated all of the attributes that the world thought were the most grand, some knew her to give a treasured moment, the way no one else could. The sacrifice men would come to, to surrender under her, so they could succumb to joy...few knew, but oh, they were happy to go there.

Only a minute group knew of the moment, a gray moment, where the eyes closed, the breath was sucked in, the flinch of the touch could gather one into a whimpering ball, a cloud of mist, a dusty gray moment, that was what they had dreams of, but few could gather themselves to actually go to this place. Mostly, it was all in the mind...there were a few who could actually go there, under her touch, they would go and breathe in a new self...only to breathe it out quicker than one ate a holiday meal...yes, it took so much to gather themselves for that particular time, but it was done more like a blink and it was gone...a sigh...a wish more than a reality...

What attributes did she acquire that other women did not? The stroll, the smell, the small wink, brilliance, wit, it was all within Meme. She gracefully smiled and then loudly laughed with joy and confidence, releasing millions of tiny minions of frivolity, when she looked at one that special way. Why did men flock to her? Knowing they could only have a second, but wanted a lifetime? Knowing that she was too engaged with life to settle down and succumb to a boring life of only one...

This vision? What would one do to go there? The vision of joy itself? It can be penned more like a poem...penned once for Meme herself from an admirer...it goes like this...

"I, looking at you under your shoes, you shine like the stars, like Venus itself, smaller than our moon, which guards the galaxy at night in shining brightness, but still brilliant from so far away, always illuminating those you touch. That touch, it stings like tattoo needles, piercing, forever making a mark, never to erase, but that is half the fun of it all".

The ones who could succumb to their fears, knowing that they were here for just a moment, they could suck it up, just to smell the leather and parfume from her feet, to look up at the serene face, to have a touch from such a gallant woman, to hold in their memories.

Breaking pool balls, the crashing of the sounds, the clanging of the glass, the sudden slash of the skin, the flinch of the tissues, it was all worth it, just for that moment to have a memory with Meme.

Now, some say a Meme is a trending thought, a concept that flashes world-wide, a spreading of a behavior that others believe is worth following. But, Meme, herself was a novelty, like one who cannot be caught, a butterfly which is too beautiful to catch because gazing on the flying is worth a thousand words. To be in the company of Meme is to sit in an arboretum and being fascinated by the flying creature in awe, to not understand but to just sit and at the feet of majesty and the sweetness of the moment.

The sweetness of the moment you ask, that was Meme, some said? These who asked this question were the men who knew her from the intimate times she would spend inflicting what they knew were their sweet moment, the infliction of ecstasy, the coming inside their brain, which would zap like a lightning bolt down their chest, through their hips, and into their loins catapulting with an eruption like Mt. Vesuvius up into the air and falling with intense gravity back down. The pain, which was being inflicted upon their mortal souls, was almost too much to endure, yet, the joy of that one incredible moment was well worth it all.

So, enter Mimi's rooms, her places of pain and tears and joy. Places which encompassed racks, stools, benches, and numerous pegs around the walls of the room, which held the implements of pain. Yes, the floggers, wire, corded, and leather. The numerous paddles, made of wood, plastic, and again leather of course. The whips of the finest horsehair, black, tan, red, braided and not, and of course the ropes of various lengths. The electrical equipment, the zappers, the dog collars, the pluggable and battery operated, and let's not forget the Taser guns. Finally, the razor blades, the hooks, and the knives. Each for their special favorite person, each having its own special application, each knowing it would get its turn during the night sometime.

But, let's not forget that upon first entering the main parlor were the chains, cuffs, and restraining devices. Yes, each would choose their tie-down upon entering the room, similar to a candy shop, entering and choosing which delight one would have. Then, moving onto the second section of the room, the main space, Mimi would then chose which device to move to depending on what the person chose. Yes, they each had their own special purpose and place.

But, let's not forget what Mimi's liked best to use. This was her chair, her special throne, which she used to impart the bloody pain that only the bravest would be led to. Some of her friends would whimper and moan with the slightest of touch by any of her tools. Others, the ones with scars, Mimi knew where they wanted to be led. Yes, that was to her chair. On the floor, in front of her chair, there was a red carpet. Next to her chair was a table, which held pliers, a candy dish full of small ellipsoid-shaped metal razor blades, which had been chipped from a straight razor.

For the full effect of the experience to take place, the following occurred:

1.First the ankle cuffs would be placed and buckled. Then, the chain would be placed through the loops of the cuffs and bolted to the eye-hook attached to the wall near Mimi's throne.

2.Next, at the other end of the awaiting toad, the wrists would be done in the similar fashion.

3.And last, Mimi would take her place, stepping between the panting troll and the chair, to seat herself.

4.As Mimi only invested in the finest of leather shoes, with metal heels, she would place her feet on the troll's naked chest and press down with the toe first, scraping the heel against the skin.

Now, for the joyous part. The sensuous delight. The part that the men all wanted, this would make their dreams come true. At this point, Meme would make a tapping motion of her heels up and down, tap, tap, tap, up and down, so the metal heel would be light at first, then slowly with each movement gather up steam slowly and then faster, and then faster, so that the staccato of the metal would be a dance, which she took on the chest of the willing. As she moved her heels up and down, she would slowly scrape the heels in little jerks, jabbing the heels in the skin making bruises and inflicting more and more pressure until the skin actually broke after repeated scrapes. It would release an adrenaline that would gather momentum in not only Mimi but on the part of the man that he no longer was thinking of the pain, but was enjoying the infliction of the dance and to his enjoyment, he would become erect and want to hold his phallus. Whoops, he could not, he was bound! As the movements were steady and increasing like a tornado, frenzying in a slick sort of way, releasing the fluids and making sliding easier and easier, finally, in a rapture of overwhelming joy, one would find themselves begging Meme if they could cum...yes, this was part of the contract one signed when entering with Meme, it was a contract that all had to sign, one must beg in order to ejaculate and be given Meme's blessing to so.

When one could no longer stand the intensity, they would beg Meme for her blessing to have their joyous moment. If, she felt their time spent together was sufficient, and they had not made a sound other than joy, she would allow them to cum.

But, if Meme said, "No", at that point, she would just stand up and walk away. They would have to lay there and ask Meme to forgive them before being unlocked and sent away. Yes, the safe word was being unhappy. It worked every time if, one wanted it to end that way...

But, alas, we return to the poor toad, who would be granted their wish and the flow would occur. Yes, the mountainous, voluminous, the great froth would explode like Niagara Falls. Still, the smiles were enough to encircle the earth, the happiness would melt into heavy sighs of joy and relaxing of the feet and muscles. The feet would be still and the eyes would be closed and Meme would know that she was satisfied...satisfied with being able to release her energy and delight upon the soul of another.

We know that with Meme's joy, this alone would be her satisfaction that she could rest and recover in the privacy of her own space and reflect on the exquisite experience.

We know that her delighted subject would be the more enlightened having spent time with Meme in her special abode. Yes, joy, pure joy could reflect the subject's encounter as he traveled on his road called life.

Memories... what were they? Hugs, beauty, laughter, golden days, cheer and what few knew but loved the most was quite the cherished moment amongst the most few who knew Meme.