Our Only Hope - S01 E08

Story 10 months ago

Our Only Hope - S01 E08

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 8

Master rod looked down at her in disgust and said curtly, “Put her in the display.”

As the two eunuchs were releasing the unconscious slave, the back curtain was slowly raised revealing four women and two men bound spread-eagled on wheel-like frames attached to the back wall. Unlike the rest of the walls of the club, the back wall was painted a flat white. An additional four wheels stood empty, two on each side of the captives. Beyond that were two more sets of restraints that were attached directly to the wall.

I looked quickly along the base of the wall. On the right side, all the way to the end, just to the right of the last restraint was a strangely-shaped electrical socket like the one Boris had noted in the picture of Mistress Aleana. This was where that image had been taken.

Was one of the bound figures her?.. was one perhaps Master Robert? All six were naked. Both men and one of the women were masked with Lucha Libra masks. The masks had an image similar to the devilish one on Master Rod, but the mouths were formed in an exaggerated frown, almost like one would find on a Greek theater mask. I was betting that I would recognize those faces if they were not masked, but the body of the masked woman did not look like Mistress Aleana. One of the women was bound facing the wall, but she was much too small to be the Mistress. Another was turned so that she was hanging sideways. Her face was unfamiliar. Except for her, the rest of the figures bound to the wheels were upright with their toes barely touching the floor, keeping them from turning.

The two large eunuchs had no trouble carrying the diminutive slave to the wall and strapping her in place on one of the empty wheels. I don’t know if it was easier to do it that way or just their warped sense of humor, but the eunuchs strapped the slave’s feet to the wheel and then turned it so that she hung upside down before restraining her hands and then turning her back right side up.

I felt Natasha tense up next to me and heard a soft, hissing intake of breath. “That’s poopsie,” she said softly. I could hear the hurt and anger in her voice.

“Not now. Not yet.” I tried to say firmly. I had very little confidence in my ability to keep her from acting, but a loud voice called out in my– and her– earpiece saying, “Control yourself, Pusik, we will rescue poopsie, but we have to stick to the plan. You can do it, my little kitten, but we have to follow the plan.”

Boris’ words had an amazing calming effect on Natasha. At least they enabled her to get her emotions under control. She was now staring at Master Rodriguez with an intensity of hatred that I have rarely seen. I was now afraid that The Stiff One– even if he did not know it– was a dead man walking. And I was even more afraid that Natasha would act before Boris was ready.

Master Rod again stepped to the front of the stage. “That was intense, wasn’t it?” he said with a laugh.” After the audience laughter died down, he continued, “We start every special show with that just to keep all the slaves on their toes. But would you believe...” He now stood with his fists balled up on his hips. “... that this spanking bench holds no threat to some slaves? In fact there is one slave among us tonight who has begged her Master to let her experience the full treatment of this delightful piece of equipment.” He paused and then said loudly, “Isn’t that true, slave monica?”

The spotlight turned to one of the tables near the wall. A rather dark, almost swarthy, man was sitting with an olive-skinned young woman standing next to him. She was wearing an off-white dress that draped loosely around her neck but clung tightly to her more than ample rear end. With any movement, her breasts were totally visible from the sides and even from the front. A wide, shiny chrome collar around her neck proclaimed her to be a slave.

Her Master nodded his head and pointed to the stage and the young woman rushed forward like a kid chasing after an ice cream truck. She stopped when she got to the front and stood more or less at attention in front of Master Rod.

“I don’t often give people a choice in this,” he said, looking down at her, “but if you really want to experience the full treatment from me in this spanking bench, strip down and come up on stage.”

The woman hesitated a moment, looking back and forth between Master Rod and the padded bar, but then she made her final decision. Reaching behind her back she loosened a zipper at the waist of the dress. Once that was done, there was really nothing holding the dress in place. She pulled her arms clear of the top of the dress and it slid from her body.

Master Rod laughed slightly and pointed down at her. “Turn around and let everyone see how excited you are,” he ordered firmly.

The naked painslut turned around and stood with her feet widespread. Thick fluid was dripping from her slightly gaped cunt. As if she couldn’t help herself, she reached up and twisted her hard and engorged nipples, gasping slightly at her own touch.

“Get across the spanking bar,” he said sharply. She stepped up on stage and knelt on the spanking device. She watched trembling as the eunuchs strapped her legs in place on the low pad, and without prodding, she extended her arms for them to stretch with the straps. Because she was not wearing wristcuffs like the waitress had been, the eunuchs had to first wrap leather restraints around her wrists. She moaned when the eunuchs pulled her arms tight in front of her and moaned again when the electrodes were attached to her nipples. She moaned once more when the cunt-anal hook was slipped into her and pulled tightly forward so that it could be attached to the floor. The large bulb on the cunt hook slipped easily into her slippery slit. The slightly smaller bulb on the anal portion of the hook seemed to not want to enter at first, but it popped into place when one of the eunuchs spread her plump asscheeks to let it settle directly against her waiting rosebud.