The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (48 page)

The club’s hostess peered into the room. It was dark but for a single pool of light in the exact centre. Caught in that light was a naked woman, on her back, writhing in
what looked like ecstasy. She was tied to the surface of a padded wooden table, arms and legs outstretched to its corners. Her prominent breasts were flattened due to her prone position, and they
heaved as she breathed deeply. Her nipples were stiff and erect, their rosy colour matching the flush in her cheeks as an orgasm shook her. The hostess, known to everyone simply as “Q”,
smiled as she caught sight of the twin vibrators lodged in the woman’s pussy and anus.

Q approached and leaned down so that her mouth was next to the bound woman’s ear.

“Paige, Sarah just called,” she whispered. “She’s late again, but she’ll be here in about half an hour. Do you want me to let you loose?”

Paige lifted her head and looked at the hostess, a humorous glint in her blue-grey eyes. “If you must. Duty calls, I suppose.”

She couldn’t suppress a sigh as Q eased the vibrators from her body and unfastened the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Q helped her to her feet. Paige stood for a moment, panting. The
hostess took her arm.

“Come along. You haven’t got much time.”

“Just a minute.” Paige held back. “There must be time for this.”

She turned Q so that they were facing each other, then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Q responded, opening her mouth and flicking her tongue out to touch Paige’s. Their bodies
pressed against each other. They held the embrace briefly then parted. Their eyes met.

“Come along,” repeated Q, stroking Paige’s cheek. “You’re my chief guard. You want to look your best for this, don’t you?”

They left the room arm in arm and made their way to Q’s private office, where Q changed into her usual outfit, an all-in-one bodysuit that hid nothing of her figure. Shortly afterwards,
three of the female guards dragged Sarah into the room. They positioned her so that she was facing the large mahogany desk. Q lounged behind it on a leather executive chair, her feet up on the top
of the desk. In front of her stiletto heels was a large leather case, with the single word “Imperial” and a royal crest embossed on it in gold. Paige, now dressed in her brief
guard’s uniform, stood to one side of the desk, slightly behind Q. Sarah threw her a sheepish glance. Paige looked back sternly, giving nothing away.

“You know what to do,” said the hostess. “Remove her clothes. Kelly, announce her punishment to our members and meet us in the treatment room.”

Kelly left. Her voice came over the tannoy system, creating a buzz of interest outside. Angela and Jody, the two remaining guards, stripped Sarah of her skimpy attire. She was left to stand
naked in the centre of the room. Angela cuffed her hands behind her back. Sarah squared her shoulders and stared at the hostess.

Q sighed. “Sarah, Sarah. Why do you get into trouble quite so often? If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that you enjoy being publicly punished. Take her away!”

When she’d gone, Q turned to Paige. “Are you still confident?”

“About our wager?”

“Yes, of course. What time do I have to beat?”

“I managed fifty-seven minutes with you.”

“Fine. The loser takes twelve strokes.”

“Good luck.”

Paige winked. “I don’t need luck. You’d better get some ointment ready.”

They led Sarah to a small room, where Kelly was waiting. It was like a cell, with green walls and stark overhead lighting. In the middle of each wall was a large, two-way mirror, through which
the club’s members could watch the punishment take place. The viewing rooms were already full.

“Look, Sarah,” said Angela. “You’ve got quite an audience. I hope you’re going to put on a good show.”

There was a table against one wall with a typist’s chair tucked under it. A hospital bed stood in the centre of the room, with a thin vinyl mattress and chrome rails down either side.
Angela and Jody lifted Sarah onto the mattress and held her down while Kelly tied her to the rails with inch wide leather straps. Her arms lay underneath her, and one strap passed over them at the
elbow, leaving her torso free. Another went across under her bottom, holding her wrists tightly but again leaving her pelvis free to move. From the lower end of the table, they could just see her
hands as they stuck out from under her backside. Angela and Jody parted her legs, spreading them so that her knees were crooked over the side of the bed. More straps held her thighs firmly in this
position. Her captors bent and tied her ankles together underneath the bed.

Kelly threaded another strap under Sarah’s right arm, passing it up through her armpit, over her chest just above her pert breasts, and back down under her left arm. Finally, they clipped
more straps to a collar around her neck and tied those to the rails as well.

Jody tweaked one of Sarah’s nipples. “Can you move?”

Sarah gasped. “Bitch!”

“You’ve still got your attitude. Let’s see how feisty you are once Paige has finished with you.”

They left her in this uncomfortable position for some time. Because her knees were held down while her arms rested under her bottom, her pelvis was lifted up, exposing her vulnerable sex. As the
uppermost strap also pinned down her shoulders, her back was arched and her torso described a gentle curve along the top, from which her breasts thrust upwards. Light reflected from her tanned
skin, particularly along the succulent roundness of her straining thighs. Her blonde hair, usually immaculately cascading down around her shoulders, was now dishevelled. She could still move her
head from side to side, and her blue eyes scanned the room fearfully.

The door opened and swung closed again behind Paige, pristine in a crisp white blouse and tight black leather mini skirt. Silk stockings gave her legs a soft sheen. With her dark hair gathered
back into a long ponytail, she looked every inch the young professional secretary. Her patent leather stilettos clicked on the tiled floor as she approached the bound Sarah. She stood with hands on
hips, legs parted, looking down at her captive. Her rouged lips parted in a delicate pout, and Sarah caught a waft of expensive perfume.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Paige quickly seized her jaw and forced a chrome ring between her teeth. A thin strap passed around her head, fixing it in place. With her mouth held wide
open, Sarah could make no more than guttural sounds.

“First, I think I’d better shave you,” said Paige. “It will make things so much easier later.”

Sarah squirmed as Paige used a large brush to spread a generous quantity of shaving foam over her pubic hair. The dark-haired guard paused for a moment when she was satisfied with her efforts.
She showed Sarah a shiny cut-throat razor.

“Now, this is very sharp, and I’d keep very still if I were you.”

Sarah froze, trying desperately not to move as she felt the blade scraping across her sensitive skin. As the lather gathered on its steel surface, Paige flicked it into the corner of the room.
It didn’t take her long, and when she’d finished, she dried off the excess foam with a soft towel. She blew gently on the newly exposed skin, causing Sarah to shiver. Paige smoothed
some moisturizing lotion into the area, lingering long enough for Sarah’s body to respond. A tiny drop of liquid formed at the entrance to her pussy. Paige gathered it on her fingertip and
licked it experimentally.

As Sarah looked over at her, Paige glanced at a two-way mirror on the other side of the room and signalled to an unseen observer. Seconds later the door opened, and Jody entered carrying the
leather case from Q’s office. She placed it on the table, winked at Paige and left.

With a flourish, Paige unclipped the locks and threw open the lid of the case. Inside was an old-fashioned typewriter. It had been immaculately restored, and certain extra features added by one
of the club’s technicians. Paige reached under the table and pulled out a bundle of wires, five red and one green. She plugged one end of each wire into a terminal mounted on the back of the
typewriter.

Paige approached Sarah, holding the free ends of the four red wires. Each was tipped with a small but nasty looking spring loaded metal clip.

Sarah gulped.

Paige tweaked her right nipple until it was hard then snapped one of the clips around it, leaving a little pink bud protruding at the top. Sarah winced and cried out as the metal bit into her
tender skin, not enough to puncture it but sufficient that it would not come off no matter what she did. Paige ignored her and repeated the process on her left nipple, forcing another whimper from
the bound girl.

Sarah twisted her head away as one of Paige’s hands approached. Undeterred, the chief guard took hold of a handful of blonde hair and forced her to look straight up at the ceiling. With
her other hand, she reached thumb and forefinger through the chrome ring gag. She caught hold of Sarah’s tongue and pulled it out. Sarah squealed. Paige let go of her hair and picked up
another of the clips. She showed it to Sarah.

“Guess where this one’s going.”

Sarah knew what was coming, and gave an anguished wail as Paige snapped the clip onto the tip of her tongue and let go. Her tongue retreated back into her mouth. The wire trailed from it and
brushed against her lower lip. The clip felt strange, and it dug into her flesh uncomfortably as her tongue brushed against her palate. In the end she was forced to allow it to stick out of her
mouth.

Paige brandished the final red wire in front of her. Sarah rolled her eyes desperately as she tried to see where the other woman was going. With a gasp she felt warm air on her freshly shaved
mound, followed by a gentle kiss. Paige lapped at her, teasing and flicking her clitoris. Sarah sighed, letting her head fall back to the mattress. She was totally unprepared for the sudden pain
when Paige put the last clip onto her tender bud. Her whole body arched and she screeched out loud. Her toes and fingers clenched.

“Try to relax. You’ll get used to it soon.”

Sarah’s breath hissed as she struggled against the tight restraints. Paige stroked her smooth skin, and after a few seconds her body fell limp.

Paige went back to her case and fiddled for a few moments out of Sarah’s view. When she returned to Sarah’s side she was holding a large vibrator, onto which she had fastened the
green wire. The surface of the vibrator glistened with lubricant. Held open as she was, Sarah was unable to resist as Paige inserted it into her defenceless pussy. A narrow prong near the base of
the implement wormed its way into her tightly clenched anus.

At last Paige stood back and folded her arms. She looked down at her helpless victim, smiling. Sarah’s eyes pleaded with her, to no avail. She stroked Sarah’s cheek once and sat down
at the table.

“The wires link into the back of the typewriter. As I type, the keys complete connections, depending on which one I press, and that will send a current down one of the wires I’ve
attached to you. The most common letters will activate the vibrator. I’ve no idea how it works, but believe me, it’s very effective. Shall we give it a try?”

Paige turned to the typewriter and let her fingers dance over the keyboard.

My name is Paige. I’m British, 23 years old and I live in London.

Sarah gasped. A tingling sensation began deep in her pussy, followed by little pulses from each of the clips attached to her body. As Paige typed, she felt her nipples and clitoris respond to
the gentle electrical stimulation, hardening beyond anything she thought possible. The vibrator inside her emitted a steady pulse. Its throbbing action was transmitted to the narrow probe in her
anus, to her surprise and pleasure. Moisture started to gather around the part of the cylinder that was visible in her pussy. The pain when the clips were attached became a distant memory, banished
by the pleasure of the moment.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Paige’s words broke into her rapture. “But feel what happens when I start to type a little faster. I’m going to write a story about life
here at the club.”

The keys clattered.
I’m single at the moment, well, sort of, but it’s my choice. I get plenty of offers.

Sarah stiffened, straining at her bonds as the sensations intensified. A whimper escaped her when the clip on her tongue brushed against her lips, causing a little jolt to pass through them. She
tried desperately to hold it still. She felt the skin around her nipples tauten and her chest heaved. Vibrations flooded through her pussy and anus, the stimulation to her clit sending her nerve
endings racing, as though she wanted to pee and come at the same time. Perspiration broke out on her body. Paige glanced at her and slowed down.

I’m about five foot eight, with long brown hair, blue-grey eyes and curves in all the right places. My ears are pierced, as is my left nipple.

“It’s a shame, really,” said Paige with a twinkle in her eyes, “that it’s limited by my typing speed, so I can’t do any real damage. It can deliver a fairly
hefty jolt, though.”

At that her fingers flew across the keys in a flurry of movement.

I have a degree in English Literature from a good university, and I’m an accomplished harpist. It’s a very erotic instrument, I think. Quite apart from the evocative shape and the
ethereal sound it makes, it’s the suggestive way you play it, sitting down with it nestled in between your thighs. Sometimes, at home, I like to play in the nude. It’s a wonderful
feeling.

Sarah screamed in response, the pain that surged through her tongue, nipples and clit matched by an equal rush of pleasure delivered deep into her soaking pussy. Her fists clenched under her and
her legs pulled at the unyielding cuffs. She curled her toes involuntarily.

“It’s useful if I take you too close to your orgasm,” said Paige. “It brings you right back down, fast.”

Gradually the pain died away as Paige resumed a slow and steady pace, and Sarah settled back into the blissful daze caused by the multiple stimulations.

That’s not what I do for a living, though. Instead, I work in a club in the heart of the city. You probably won’t have heard of it. It’s a somewhat unusual place Basically
it’s a sex club, catering to the wilder side of preferences, bondage and discipline, that sort of thing. You’d think it would be a really seedy place; many such clubs are, but this
one’s an exception, believe me. A woman owns it, for one thing, and for another the membership fees are absolutely astronomical. Discretion is its prime directive, and you’d be quite
surprised at some of the names that appear on our membership list as a result. The press don’t even know we exist. I don’t know how much money is tied up in the place, but it must be
considerable.