The Box 17

Disclaimer: This story has BDSM themes and imagery but is purely a fantasy. This is not an accurate depiction of real world BDSM in any way. Non-consent has as much a place in real-life BDSM as it does in real-life period, which is to say, none, except as part of a consensual role-play.

*****

"Don't complain. There are a lot worse things I could have you do," the Director said, raising her eyebrows. "Considering most of what this club has, the Box is vanilla."

"People will see," I tried to say, but as I was gagged with a scarf, it came across as more of a "Hehole wull hee."

"Count yourself lucky. I've decide to be nice to you." She stood over me, and gently nudged me with her dangerously sharp stiletto heel. I was kneeling on the floor, ankles cuffed together and my arms bound behind my back at the wrists and elbows. I was also completely naked.

"Leh he goh den."

"Not a chance. You sneak into my club without paying, you become part of the show. But I've decided to be gentle—after all, you were just curious. We'll just have to satisfy that curiosity, now won't we?"

"Noh genhle," I replied, straining against the arm restraints.

"Well, we could hardly have you running off last night, now could we? I suppose I should apologize for the conditions, but it was a bed, after all, even if you were tied to it with your ankles bound." She smiled slyly, then walked behind me. I tried to turn my head, but I was wearing a stiff collar that made it impossible.

"This is her?" A different voice, also female.

"This is her. But don't be too hard on her. She's new to this, and I don't want her too badly abused."

"Tell me the limits."

"Nothing cut or seriously bruised; no damage that will last once she leaves this place, plus the usual restrictions of course. We cover our tracks. And not too much pain. Just a bit of lack of control. Teach her a lesson."

"Got it."

In my struggle to turn, I lost my balance and tumbled to the side. This, while kind of painful, allowed me a glimpse of black stiletto boot retreating into the hallway. I wasn't to see my punisher, it seemed.

The Director turned at the noise of my fall, and shook her head. "You can't escape," she said matter-of-factly, righting me. "You can't even stand up right now. You want freedom? Tonight you do what you are told." She pressed a button on her desk. "Time for you to go." On cue, a large man in leather pants came in and picked me up, tossing me over his shoulder. "I will see you tonight," the Director declared as the man carried me out.

~~~~~

The man carried me to a small room, not the place I had slept the night before. It looked like an unused utility closet, except that a long chain hung from the ceiling and there was a soft pad on the floor. He positioned me kneeling on the pad (I only tried to bite him once) and attached the chain to my collar and my wrist cuffs. Then he left, closing the door to leave me in darkness- darkness except for the red light of a security camera. For a moment I thought I might wind up online, and then I realized that the Director didn't want me injured, and leaving a person bound and alone would be really dangerous. There was probably someone right outside.

I struggled only once; when I fell over again the chain tightened on my cuffs and collar and I wound up suspended in air for a few minutes until I figured out how to right myself. Then I knelt there in silence and fear for what seemed like days, but was actually no more than five hours. I thought about crying, but I realized I couldn't wipe my eyes afterwards and they would know they had hurt me. So I was stony-faced, staring at a blackness I knew was the door.

~~~~~

The same man returned to retrieve me. The club had not yet opened but it would soon. I was taken to a tiled room with showers and chains were attached to my wrist and ankle cuffs by a woman in a skintight latex dress and yet another pair of stilettos. Then the woman unlocked and removed the collar, elbow restraints and knee restraints and detached the wrist and ankle ones from each other.

Before I could take advantage of my momentary freedom, though, the chains were tightened, and I was stretched spread-eagle with arms up above my head. My feet were still firmly on the floor, but I was unable to move them much. Then the latex-clad woman reappeared, this time barefoot, and picked up a shower hose. "Ready?"

I was still gagged, but I shook my head. She shrugged and turned it on. It didn't hurt—the warm water felt good, especially on my knees—but it was still a bit of a shock. The stream of water was directed at my face, my body, and then at my pussy, which felt better than I wanted to admit. She walked all around me before she stopped.

She combed my hair out, then stepped back. All of a sudden I was hit with a blast of warm air like a hand dryer, only all over my body. My hair whipped in my face and I closed my eyes against the onslaught.

When I was dried, the woman produced a bag, and the right arm chain was loosened until she could hold my wrist in her hand. From the bag she produced a much softer, larger cuff clearly designed for bondage. Before removing the old one, she made sure the new was firmly in place and attached to the chains. The procedure was repeated for each limb, then my ankle cuffs were attached together again. More cuffs were placed around my thighs and just above my elbows. Soon I was back in the same position as before, only with more comfortable cuffing, and my gag was quickly replaced with a new black scarf. The final touch was another collar, then she applied makeup and combed out my hair before I was retrieved by the large man and carried out to the main club area.

~~~~~~~

The Box was about six and a half feet long, four feet wide and seven feet high and suspended about six feet over the floor, all completely clear. There was a small viewing platform on three sides, but a person could also look up from underneath on the dance floor. On one end there was a black sling-like support and on the other, a small black cabinet. Chains hung randomly from the glass walls.

I was placed on the floor, in the center, and left there with the door locked. Soon the music was turned on and I could see employees bustling about to get it ready for opening time. I looked down, to the best of my ability, and watched them duck under me and run past. Occupied as I was with this, I did not notice the arrival of one particular employee until the Box door opened and I looked up.

Her boots I recognized; black PVC with very high heels. I noticed now they were a bit thicker than stilettos. Almost seamlessly they meshed into her black catsuit; it had almost no features and was tight enough to be her skin except right around her joints. It was adorned with a vinyl corset on her tight waist that ended beneath her full breasts and a loose belt resting on her hips, and it merged almost effortlessly into her black vinyl gloves and swept up her long neck. Her dark hair was swept back from her face into a knot and her eyes were painted darkly; her lips were the only thing of real color, as they were bright, vivid red. A black riding crop and a black whip were attached to her belt.

She smiled down at me seductively. "Don't worry, we'll start soon. Call me Ma'am. If I tie something too tight and you loose feeling in a body part, say "blue" and I will check them. If they really are too tight, I will loosen them; if they aren't and you lied, I will punish you. The Box is soundproof—well, mostly, combined with the music on the dance floor—so they will not hear you say anything." She took her crop from her belt and traced the outline of my breast with the soft tip. "And may I say, you make a lovely submissive."

I swore and struggled a little.

"Clearly not a very obedient one, though... Ah well. Save it for the audience."

As if on cue, the doors opened and people began to come in, dressed to the nines in their fetish gear. She sprang into gear, quickly fastening chains to various cuffs. I barely registered what she had done before she stepped back and pulled a cord, and I found myself stretched out spread eagle with my hands out like a starfish. The cuffs made it easier on my wrists, but I was still more than a little nervous about being in the air, genitals clearly exposed to those who were walking beneath. She then opened the cabinet and pulled out a pair of very high heels, slipping them on my feet and fastening the straps. Once they were in place, I could put my feet on the glass bottom, but it was still a strain due to the nature of the shoes. Just as swiftly, she pulled a second item from the cabinet—a corset, and a hard one at that.

Walking behind me, she started to lace it up. It left my breasts exposed, and with each tug the chains jangled and my breasts jiggled and I gasped. It wasn't extremely painful, but I could definitely feel it. When she reached the top she rested her vinyl-clad knee against my back and pulled hard, and when I gasped again, she tied it off and came around to the front again.

We had gathered an audience, I noticed, but as my eyes wandered I felt the crop press on my cheek. "Eyes to me," she declared fiercely, then smiled her slow smile again as her eyes wandered up and down my body. "Very nice." The crop slid down my shackled neck and over my breasts; down over the corset and my thigh to rest, very briefly and lightly, on my clitoris before it was returned to her belt.

"Now that you are so neatly presented, I intend to touch you everywhere," she declared, smiling; she stepped up to me and traced a vinyl glove on my collarbone. Her gloved hands began to explore as she stepped around behind me, pressing the slick material against my butt and thighs while she reached around me, playing with my breasts and gently teasing my nipples until they were hard as bricks. Then her hand slid down, as she kissed my shoulder and my ear very lightly, and the vinyl fingers found my labia. She began to play with it, stroking them and gently playing with my clitoris.

I couldn't help it. I was aroused. Still, I tried to close my legs, succeeding only in rattling the chains. As soon as I did, she let go, stepped back, and slapped me on the ass. It wasn't hard enough to do more than sting for a few seconds, but I still gasped against the gag, and she soon had returned to her previous position. She then whispered in my ear, "Now say you're sorry."

"Ho," I said against the gag, intending "no." Luckily she understood. She removed the gag. "Say it."

"No." I tried to shake myself free again. Once again she spanked me, then stepped around in front. "Say it NOW."

"Fuck off."

She quickly turned and opened the case, pulling out a large realistic pink dildo. "Let's give your mouth something better to do," she said, pushing it against my now-tight lips. "Open!" she cried, pinching my nose. I bared my teeth, breathing through them but not allowing anything to pass. She grabbed my jaw and pressed on two points, one on each side. Involuntarily it opened and she shoved the dildo into my mouth. I went to push it out.

"Drop it and you go into the watersports room," she said, pushing it in further. Eyes wide, I kept it in place. "And I better not see bite marks." Lips only. Got it.

She returned to her previous position behind me. "Now where was I?"

After a bit of attention to my breasts again, she reached down and began to explore my labia. Her gloved fingers slipped around in my folds, and then without warning they slipped inside me. I gasped, nearly lost the dildo, and only barely caught it before it fell. The hand not inside me pushed it back in. "Good girl. Suck on it."

Her finger moved around inside me while her thumb stroked my clit; I was beginning to get very turned on, and it was bothering me less and less. All too soon she stopped and backed off. "I think I need a slight change in scenery."

Another flurry of chain fastening and detaching and she pulled the cord again—this time pulling me back to a 45 degree angle away from her, my corseted back against the sling and my knees still spread, but with the heeled feet tucked underneath. "Much better," she declared, walking up to me and stroking my vulva with her vinyl fingertips. "An excellent view." She pulled the crop from her belt and began to use the soft tip to trace around the area, gently stimulating, then, without warning, she flipped it around and shoved the handle deep into my vagina. I gasped but kept the dildo in place.

"You like that?" she asked, smiling slyly as she began to slide it in and out, in and out. Her other hand she placed on my abdomen, her thumb on my clitoris, gently rubbing. I moaned, feeling the arousal building up inside me.

"Not quite yet, my toy," she declared, pulling out the handle and placing it back on her belt. She leaned over me, her thigh rubbing against my vulva, to reach up and take the dildo from my mouth. "Do I get my apology yet?"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling a little dizzy.

"Good girl. Are you going to be my obedient little slave tonight?"

"I—"

"Yes or no. Are you going to be my obedient little slave?"

"I don't—"

"I see you need a little more training," she declared, and shoved the dildo back into my mouth. "No matter. Though I think we can find a better position than this for it."

Another flurry of strapping and clasping, and with a tug of that cord, I found myself yanked around to face beneath me, my butt in the air and my legs curled under me so the heels were on the floor, but spread wide. My arms were pulled over my head. I couldn't see her, but her voice was clear.

"I think a little whipping is in order," she declared.

Suddenly afraid, I tried to turn around, to say something without dropping the dildo. Whipping?

"Don't worry. It's a gentle whip." A pause, then a whoosh and I felt the feathery, silky touch of the whip across my upper back. It didn't hurt at all save for a mild sting that immediately faded, but it sounded exactly like a normal whip.

Again, across my butt and thighs. Again, across my back. Then, suddenly, something hard—probably the whip handle—was shoved into my vagina. She moved it around a little then pulled it out, replacing it with her slippery fingers. It felt tighter this time, probably more than one; her thumb was exploring my clit again.

She brought me almost to the brink and then when I moaned around the dildo again she stopped. I felt the whip again. "Let's make you want it even more," she declared, and she began to walk around me, readjusting the cuffs and attaching new chains. A bar was fastened to my ankles, spreading them apart even further. This time when she pulled the cord, I was forced to stand with my legs shoulder-length apart, - my wrists together and stretched over my head. She pulled the dildo out of my mouth. "Now, are you going to be my obedient little slave?"

As she spoke, her fingers found my vulva and started to play. I gave a little moan.

"Answer me," she said, removing her hand.

Whatever, say whatever, just get her to finish... "Yes."

She smiled slowly. "Good girl." She stroked my breasts, gently playing with my nipples. "Ask me for it."

"...Please."

"Beg me for it." Her fingers slipped down over the corset and gently slipped over my butt. I hesitated, and my eyes flickered to the audience at last. She saw it.

"Not quite yet, hmm?" The crop was on my cheek again. "Eyes to me. You got distracted again. We can't very well have that, now can we?" She shoved the dildo back into my mouth and attached a chain to the back of the corset, on the bottom. Another chain was fastened to the cuffs and the old one loosened. She yanked the cord, and my arms were pulled down until I was bent in half, hands on the floor between my legs. The chain on the corset yanked my butt into the air, and she walked around me until I could see her face. Out came the crop, teasing, then inside me for a short while, then teasing again. Just when I was almost there she stopped, squatted before me, pulled the dildo out and said "Beg for it."

I hesitated again, and the crop went back to teasing. Finally I couldn't bear it.

"Please," I said. "Please. I need it. Please."

She smiled triumphantly. "Very well then. Since you asked so nicely." A few chain adjustments and I was upright again, same position as before; then another adjustment and I was leaning back away from her. She stepped over the spreader between my ankles and began to finger me, thumb on my clit, rubbing and exploring. Then two fingers; three. It was building up, building up, and then all the build-up from the whole night exploded, and I moaned and my back arched.

Finally satisfied, I hung there gasping while she stepped back and admired her handiwork. "Feel better?"

I only nodded.

Several hours later, when the club had closed, I was led—on foot, still in those heels, cuffs, collar and corset, with my only restriction being the cuffs linked behind my back—to the Director's office. She was standing by the desk as I came in, and she looked me in the eye.

"No one will believe you," she said simply.

I nodded. I understood.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

Again, I nodded. No more cheating the system around here.

"Your show went over very well tonight. I congratulate you for that. You made a lovely submissive."

I looked down, still a little embarrassed.

"Unlock the cuffs." Soon my arms were free at last. "Your clothes are in that little room to the side there. You can change and be on your way. And in the future, you want to come in here, you pay full price. Got it?"

I hesitated.

"What?"

"Well, I was wondering... do regular entertainers pay full price?"

She only smiled.