Safeword Quinacridone (39 page)

When all the straps were removed they stood the woman and walked her to Cara. Travis let her lean on him as he raised one of her arms to the spreader-bar and Paul ran a wide zip-tie around her wrist and a smaller one through the first zip-tie and then through end of the spreader-bar. He pulled it closed and Cara saw Meg would have several inches of play, so she could grasp the bar
or not,
but wouldn’t be able to lower her hand. Paul quickly gave Meg’s other wrist the same treatment before securing Cara’s. Travis had stepped away, and Cara heard the car start and pull out.

Paul turned Cara towards Meg, and Cara realized
the other woman
wasn’t wearing a bald cap — her head had been shaved! The revelation struck Cara like a thunderbolt, and she was both horrified and fascinated.

The woman was turned to face her, and Paul placed clover clamps first on Meg’s nipples, and then on hers
,
all four connected by short chains. Cara gasped as th
e
y went on and then tried to remain still, because any movement by either woman pulled
.
P
ainfully
.

She was aware of Travis switching on the large exhaust fan while Paul had placed the clamps, and as she breathed through the pain and tried not to move too much with each breath, she heard the garage door closing and Travis’ footsteps returning. He stopped beside them and put a hand on their shoulders, saying, “Meg, I’d like you to meet my Cara. Cara, this is Meg.”

He looked at Paul. “Looks like I need to take Cara’s corset and boots off, if we want a matched set.”

Stepping behind her, he quickly worked the lacings, yanking at her nipples with every tug. She took a deep breath when finally it came off, thankful it was gone. The boots were next, and Travis walked back into her vision.

“Paul and I have decided to begin with a nice caning. Five to one girl, then five to the other, until we think you’ve both had enough.”

He paused, looking in Meg’s eyes, then Cara’s. “Let’s hear your safeword for stopping the scene.”

Cara pushed her clicker three times and he nodded. “And if we do something that hurts too much and you need us to back off?” She clicked once and he turned to Meg, “How will you let us know if you need the scene stopped?”

Meg stomped her foot twice, paused, then once. Paul moved into her vision and said, “Can you grunt it with the tape over your mouth?”

She grunted the same pattern and he nodded and stepped away. Travis pressed a quick kiss to Cara’s cheek before following.

Hearing the other woman’s safeword calmed Cara and reminded her they’d both chosen to be here and could stop everything if they wanted. Cara looked at Meg’s shiny head again and her insides ignited at the thoughts of Travis shaving her bald, for real. As annoying as it was, her hair was such a defining part of her. Being stripped of it for a scene was difficult enough, but permanently — or, least until it could grow out again — would be dehumanizing on an entirely different level.

The authority and control one would need to take someone’s hair was a huge turn-on, even if she didn’t actually want Travis to have that kind of power over her.

Paul’s voice came from the side. “Coin toss to see who gets caned first?”

“Sure, I call tails.”

A chuckle, and then, “Smart ass. Of course you do.”

The
ting
of the flip echoed through the large garage, the sound of a hand hitting another, and both men said, “Heads.”

Cara closed her eyes, disappointed she didn’t get to go first. The anticipation was worse than the caning, and once it started she wouldn’t be as afraid of it.

As the first strike landed on Meg’s
ass,
she jerked and screamed deep in her throat, the tape muting the sound. Her erratic movements yanked Cara’s nipples and made her bellow what would’ve been a wild shriek if the tape hadn’t trapped most of the sound in her throat as well.

By the time the fifth cane stroke landed, Cara’s nipples were on fire and she was almost in a state of terror over the anticipation of her own five strokes.

Paul handed the cane to Travis and he didn’t wait long to deliver the first searing line of fire to her ass. She was horny, and parts of her welcomed the pain, but without a warm-up it was right at the edge of too much. The pain in her ass combined with the radiating shock to her nipples when she jerked had her wanting to try to escape but scared to move a muscle, lest she yank her nipples.

At the second impact she knew Travis planned a diamond pattern with the cane strokes, and when he stepped to the other side for the fourth strike she wasn’t surprised when it overlaid parts of the others and etched the pain into her soul.

Travis returned the cane to Paul immediately after her fifth stroke, and Cara was lost in a haze as the cane passed back and forth. Her ass got a rest but her nipples were never given a reprieve.

She wasn’t sure how many strokes she’d received when Travis took the nipple clamps off, but she and Meg bellowed and shrieked in tandem at the agony of removal. Cara thought Meg tried to tell Paul something with her eyes a few times, and when he pushed at his slave’s lower belly as he asked how she was doing, Cara started to suspect he’d make Meg pee while they were bound like this.

So now, as Paul stooped to use the zip-strips to attach their legs together, Meg began shaking her head and grunting franticly. Paul unwrapped the strand before running it through the eye, stood, and said, “If you’re going to and you don’t want to pee on your new friend, you should do it now, before I fasten your legs together.”

She shook her head and whined, but he only said, “You know it’s going to happen; you’ve had almost two liters of water since you awakened and haven’t been to the restroom since around eight this morning. You must be quite uncomfortable by now, why delay the inevitable?”

Meg dropped her head and stepped as far away from Cara as her bonds would allow before spreading her legs, sighing a broken sob, and letting go.

Paul lifted her chin and aimed it at Cara, saying, “No, open your eyes and look at your new friend as you pee in her house — as the piss runs down your legs and puddles at your feet.”

Cara tried to look away, to spare her the humiliation, but Travis stood beside her saying, “No. Look at her, Cara Mia. See what she’s feeling, the fight she’s going through.”

Cara felt warmth at her toes and grabbed the bar with her hands as she lifted her feet. Meg’s face grew even more horrified and the stream stopped. Paul said, “Finished? Already? You’ll be attached to Cara for quite a while so if there’s more you should empty now, before I zip-tie the two of you together.”

Meg’s eyes looked desperate a few seconds, then defeated, and the stream started again. Cara thought back to the beginning of
A League of their Own
, at how long he’d peed, and was certain Meg went considerably longer. She must have been miserable while they were caned, and probably during the drive here in the trunk.

When
the stream finally waned and then stopped,
Paul kissed the tape over
his wife’s
lips, told her he loved her, and cleaned her with baby wipes as Travis used a shop vac on the floor.

Cara remembered Travis insisting she guzzle an entire sports drink before their guests arrived, saying she hadn’t eaten much and this would keep her hydrated and give needed calories. She hadn’t felt the urge to go until now, but with the idea in her head and the realization Travis would likely make her go in front of Meg, she suddenly needed to
go
.

When the shop-vac quieted Paul said, “It’ll break up our matched set, but I need the use of my toilet so the tape will have to go.” He looked at Meg. “You’ll remain speechless when it’s gone; you don’t want to give me a reason to punish you today.”

Cara was pleasantly surprised to see the tape pulled off Meg’s face without any apparent discomfort, as she’d been dreading the pain of removal.

Meg opened her mouth and worked her jaw, but remained silent as Paul pulled the wire cutters from his pocket and casually cut the straps between wrist-ties and spreader bar, saying, “I need your services as a toilet. If you take four or five steps to the right you should feel a mat under the tarp.”

She took several graceful
steps to the side,
effortlessly
dropped to her knees, grabbed her elbows behind her back, and opened her mouth.

Cara hadn’t seen Travis come around behind her
,
and her heart stuttered a few beats when his arms wrapped around her torso. His hand made circles on her stomach, soothing her as he said, “You probably won’t see much since he’s having her drink instead of pissing on her.” He dipped his fingers to her pussy, ran them through her folds, and lifted his hand to wipe the moisture on her cheek. “You’re wet, but is it from the caning or the watersports?”

She wanted to complain
. I
t was terrible to be asked questions when you couldn’t answer. She squealed in protest as his hand went to her nipple, still excruciatingly sore from the clamps.

“Watch, Cara Mia. See her swallowing? She
has to
use care to keep her lips sealed around the head enough so none of his piss escapes, but not so much it closes the hole. She can hear us talking about her
. H
ow do you think she feels while on her knees drinking her Master’s piss in front of you, knowing you’re fascinated but have never done it. Are you disgusted? Turned on? She has no way of knowing, and you can’t tell us with your mouth taped.”

Cara was aroused
and
repulsed. Paul had called Meg a toilet, and was using her as a urinal. The parts of Cara’s psyche turned on by objectification wanted to have a spontaneous orgasm, but another part of her brain protested about germs and waste products. Her hips moved involuntarily and she had to admit arousal was winning over aversion.

She’d read online that a healthy person’s pee is safe to drink as soon as it comes out of the bladder, but
...
he was
peeing
in her
mouth
.

When at last he stepped back, his cock semi-hard, he walked behind his wife and stood her up, wrapping his arms around her as he said, “I love knowing I’m inside you.” He rubbed her stomach, patting it lovingly
,
and kissed her cheek before moving his hands to caress her breasts and then rub her shoulders.

Cara could see Meg’s eyes losing focus as she leaned against her Master, who continued petting her
and
loving her with his large, strong hands and nimble fingers as he talked. “Travis and I would like to see our slaves together, as a matched set. Since we’ve taken the tape off your mouth I think I’d like to emphasize your lips instead of hiding them. Travis will do the honors while I turn his fuck-doll into a fuck-puppet. Do I need to restrain you?”

Meg shook her head and Paul said, “Really? You’ll stay still for
five
injections into
each
lip? There’s no shame in knowing ahead of time you’ll need restraining, but if we have to stop to truss you it won’t be pleasant. Will you be able to remain still for the entire
ten
shots?”

She dropped her head and shook it, and Paul turned her and tenderly placed a finger under her chin to raise it, his face kind as he said, “Good girl. Knowing your weaknesses can be a strength. I’m proud of you. Travis has a way to bind you so you’ll be as comfortable as possible. Do as he says and make me proud.”

He kissed his slave on top of her bald head and handed her off to Travis before contemplating Cara a few seconds, nodding once, and stepping away with purpose.

He carried a small folding table and duffel bag to a corner of the garage, glancing up as he positioned the table. Cara’s eyes followed his and noted a long wooden piece with multiple holes bolted to the ceiling.

Paul withdrew a dozen or so bundles of various sizes of zip-strips from the duffel, arranging them shortest to longest. He pulled chains from the bag and secured them to the wooden beam on the ceiling, and finally returned to her, extracting the wire cutters from his pocket as he walked.

He snipped the zip-ties holding her wrists to the spreader bar and said, “Come with me, little fuck-puppet.”

Fuck puppet
. The words echoed in her brain and morphed into a kinky grown-up Pinocchio story, igniting her libido until she was tempted to reach down and play with herself.

Paul grasped her left bicep and firmly walked her to the chains he’d hung.

“Travis tells me you can do the splits with your right leg forward, is that correct?”

Cara nodded her head, thinking back to the yoga classes that’d made it possible, and of how Travis had bound her to two beams, one leg strapped to each, holding her in the splits with
nothing below her torso
and her arms tied over her head. He’d lost control in minutes, bellowing through his orgasm, and she’d been so proud of herself for breaking through his iron restraint.”

“I like the look of arms pulled back but Travis tells me he hasn’t trained your shoulders to it, so today you’ll be posed with them out, looking even more like a puppet.”