Justin D'Enfer surveyed the playroom of his club. He was handsome young man of twenty, in excellent shape and showing it off in a clean white T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops. It was a large, thirty by fifty foot room with several gruesome, mediaeval torture implements hanging from the walls, several light fixtures, and a collection of whips and chains. Two St. Andrew's crosses were set up toward one side of the room with a walkway between them and the wall, side by side, awaiting their intended with supple leather cuffs; a pair of sawhorses were set up close to the opposite side of the room the same distance from the wall. Two pulleys were installed in the center of the ceiling and the platform was beneath them. A black covered table hid several unknown things in a corner out of sight of the crosses. Justin surveyed it and saw that it was good.
The clip, clip of platform shoes heralded Chelsea D'Enfer's arrival. She wore skintight leather pants and a black halter that strained to contain her ample breasts; she was curvaceous tending slightly toward chubby and her hair was long and dark.. Leaning over his shoulder, she licked her cousin's left ear in greeting: "Hi, cuz. Are you ready for the big contest tonight?"
"Sure. We could be here a while."
Chelsea came around in front of Justin and pouted. "I don't see why I have to be here at all tonight. All this stuff puts my nerves on edge, and I shudder with every stroke, every cry of pain."
Justin moved her halter aside and gently palmed his breasts; she moaned as he caressed her globes and delicately traced the outline of her areolas and nipples. She pulled him close for a long passionate kiss, pinning his hands on her breasts against his own chest as she rubbed her right hand on his cock through his jeans. Pulling away he said, " Justine would have it no other way. She wants two witnesses to this contest, and she's not willing to let anyone see her go through this who hasn't already seen her naked before. My sister can be a prude about the strangest things."
"I now it. Has she ever told you about her experience with Uncle Fred in Switzerland?"
"No. If you hadn't sent me those pictures, I would've never known she was there."
"I think she got taken worse than I did by Uncle Fred, but she's never said a word about it since the day she came back."
Justin looked at the ceiling pensively. "I'd like to know where she got the oil painting of her nude on a boat at sunrise. She's not normally patient enough to stay still that long."
"Long experience talking?" Chelsea teased.
"Oh, yes. I'm astounded that she brought about this contest: she's going to have to stand still a very long time and take a lot."
She looked at Justin coyly and licked her lips. "Well, I imagine that you have a lot more to do before the competitors arrive."
Justin smiled winningly. "On the contrary, everything is set to go, including the video system. Aunt Adele is going to run that from the security room."
She frowned. "You got an eighty-five year old woman out of a nursing home to make a dirty movie for you?"
"Her mind is sharp as a tack, and she picked up the audio and digital techniques rather quickly. Making movies was a hobby of hers; she used to star in several private films. I'll show a couple to you tomorrow morning. She was absolutely drooling at the chance to see this in real time and run the booth."
"How many cameras?"
"Eight. We've got a hand held available as well, and a digital still camera."
"All right, all right. You're a warped Cecil B. DeMille, you know that?"
"We could make a short feature while we wait. I need to take the edge off for this so I can keep my focus."
"What did you have in mind?"
Justin pulled off Chelsea's top and unbuttoned her trousers. "We'll put the mat on the platform in the middle of the room and lock the doors. It will be another hour before we have to worry about last minute details, and we can do a lot before that."
Her trousers went to the floor, and she stepped out of them. After peeling off his white tee shirt, she knelt before him to unzip his jeans. "I can see the anticipation has you worked up already." A sharp yank pulled his pants to the floor and she began massaging his ten inch shaft and cupping his massive balls while licking her lips.
***************
8:00PM saw Justine D'Enfer and her aunt, Prudence Tailleferre, arrive at her brother's club. It had undergone a makeover since Justin bought it, turning it into an elegant establishment and most nights saw it full with a discriminating clientele. They stepped from a limo dressed for a red carpet promenade rather than a meeting at a dark building. Justin was at the door to let them in, and escorted them through the bar, dining room and dance floor to the hidden stairway to the playroom he was in the process of modifying.
They paused at the door so each woman could make an entrance. Prudence went first: her gold, strapless, floor length gown and violet wrap displayed her huge cleavage to great effect. A simple gold necklace accented the view with taste and discretion, and her matching purse and shoes made her shine in a soft glow. In her forty six years, she had never looked so elegant. She came to the center of the room and posed momentarily for the cameras, turning in a circle, then standing on the low platform in the center of the room while the cameras followed her. Justine flounced into the room next: her chestnut hair sailing elegantly over a bright red, spaghetti strap gown with a ruby necklace, matching purse and open toed shoes. Like a queen she ascended the platform, to smile and turn around. They stood side by side: an dumpy older woman at her most glamorous and a slender young woman at her peak.
Justin looked a bit incongruous in his clean white T shirt and jeans as he approached them. Chelsea in her black halter and leather pants looked like a roadie as she walked around with a hand held video camera. A voice crackled into the earpieces that Justin and Chelsea wore: "This is a lot of boring fuss and bother. Why go to a beauty salon when you're going to end up a sweaty, worn out mess at the end? This isn't the Oscars. When are they going to get down to business?"
Like the emcee of a beauty pageant, Justin approached them and said: "Sister Justine, Auntie Pru, you've come here tonight to settle a bet. Do you still want to go through with this?" They both said yes with strong voices. "Do you have the money?" They both reached into their purses and produced $10,000 in four large bundles of $100 dollar bills. He took the bills and walked over to the side of the room, where he put them in a golden bowl on a stand framed by a profusion of fresh roses. Coming back to the center, he stood before them again: "The will be a personal reward for the winner of this bet and a penalty for the loser. According to the agreement, I get to choose both without consulting you. They are sealed in an envelope in Chelsea's keeping. Would you show them the envelope, Chelsea?" She held up an envelope sealed in wax.
Adele hissed into her microphone. "I don't know why you think this little show is necessary. They made a bet to see who'd do better in the Tit Torture Olympics, so let's get going. I don't know what Justine is thinking; Prudy has been a painslut for decades and Justine's got a long ways to go to catch up with her. Your sister's always been such a proud, competitive little bitch, just like her mother. Just don't forget our little bet, sweetie."
Chelsea put down her video camera and picked up a digital camera to take several still shots of the two elegantly dressed women from several angles. Justin continued: "If the contest is a draw you split the pot, and if you both quit then I get to keep the pot. Do you understand this?" Both said yes.
When that was over, Justine and Prudence went out of the room and Chelsea whispered to Justin: "What was your bet with your Aunt Adele?"
"We bet on who would win the competition tonight. A thousand in cash and a penalty."
"And that is?"
"If I win, I get to tie up her old tits and use the whips, wax and clamps on them before she blows me."
"If you lose?"
"She gets to leave her dentures IN the next time she blows me."
Chelsea looked worried and shook her head. "You're going to get your dick chewed off, man."