Posted by Ripper X on September 04, 2003 at 21:17:01:
Shannon parted the curtains and walked across the front of the stage. Bright lights blinded her, but she knew better than to raise her hands. She walked confidently across the stage, concentrating on keeping a good posture, her gaze never leaving the doctor until she stood next to him, her bare feet leaving spotted prints on the dusty stage floor.
Taking Shannon's elbow, the doctor addressed the audience. "The Inquisition was one of the most significant events of the early 13th century, and can be considered a direct result of the opening of trade routes to the eastern kingdoms, and the flow of ideas that accompanied the flood of goods through Italy and Spain, and into France and Germany shortly after the Crusades. Some of these ideas took hold amongst the fertile grounds of the grass-roots pagan religions and soon posed a threat to the Catholic Church as it competed for the spirituality of the people.
"As the strength of the Church grew, and the role of the local lords and kings as communal leaders decreased, the Church's wealth and influence brought it into the political arena, and soon it controlled the laws of the land, including the ability to arrest heretics for crimes against the canons of the Church and to conduct interrogations to determine suitable punishments.
"Typically, an interrogation began with the simple arrest of the suspected heretic and the subject would be brought before the inquisitor for questioning. If the subject resisted, or if the statements given weren't trustworthy, then the second level of the interrogation would begin: The threatening of the subject with torture. The key tool at this stage was the subject's imagination, and imagined pain can be more coercive than actual pain. If the subject still didn't cooperate, then he or she would be elevated to the third level of the interrogation - being shown the actual instruments to be used against them."
With that, the doctor turned as the stage lights illuminated several large pieces of equipment behind them. Shannon turned and was shocked at what she saw. She recognized several of the artifacts from book illustrations about castle dungeons. On the far left of the stage was an upright stock designed to force its captive to remain standing. On the far right were a pair of heavy wooden crosses, upright and turned at a slight angle towards each other. In the center of the stage were two instruments of torture; A heavy wooden bench with stout legs, and a single drum with ropes lying loosely at the foot of the bench and dangling from the drum, and a giant wheel, similar to a wagon wheel but larger and with a thicker rim that had leather bonds attached to it.
Waving his arm to each piece, like the ringmaster in a circus, the doctor addressed the audience. "Stocks, for holding prisoners, were also used to secure victims for torture, but the preferred tool for the use of non-deadly force was the rack. There was no single design, but rather variations on the theme. This particular model is a composite of designs that were used in Europe over a period of 200 years. The Romans are credited with the initial development of a rack-like device and its design evolved as the level of technology improved. Variations exist even today, but it is the Inquisition with which it is more closely associated.
"Some models used wooden slats or rollers instead of a single wooden bench, some used ropes instead of rollers, others featured two drums at each end, but they all had the same intent – To bring a prisoner beyond their pain threshold, but short of causing death.
"If a prisoner were to be executed, they would typically be broken on the wheel, or crucified. Fortunately for Shannon here, we won't be using those last two methods today." A low rumble of laughter emanated from the audience. "Last week we saw what the stocks could do, so today we'll be demonstrating the rack."
Shannon whirled around and looked at the doctor, realizing what was about to happen. "No!" She shrieked, trying to pull away.
"Calm down, now, easy", the doctor whispered, "This isn't real. I won't hurt you. All you need to do is go along with it. It's called 'acting'."
Frightened, with her heart beating furiously in her chest, Shannon remained in place on the stage. The doctor moved behind her and began fumbling with the drawstring of her skirt. Still recovering from the initial shock, she held her position and stared into the blinding light, not certain what to do as her skirt fell to the floor. Reflexively, she stepped out of it as the doctor worked on the laces holding the vest around her torso, which soon joined the skirt on the floor. Quickly, the doctor tugged at the knot holding the neck hole of the nightshirt together and began lifting the bottom of the long shirt over Shannon's waist. She pushed down with her hands, stopping the shirt from being raised higher than her hips. She had never taken her clothes off in public and was reluctant to start now.
"Remember, this is part of the show," the doctor growled in her ear, "You also have a punishment that needs to be met if you want to fulfill your arbitration obligations. Would you rather I send you back to the Arbitration Center with a bad report?" Shannon paused a moment, weighing her options. She thought about Carla in the orange prison coveralls, about how she'd have to stay in the city for another month, and also remembered Caroline's words, that it only seemed bad in the beginning. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her arms and allowed the doctor to lift the dress up and add it to the pile of clothes at her feet.
Shannon was now completely nude, holding her left arm across her chest and the other across her hips to protect her modesty. Posing nude in front of strangers was certainly not something she wanted to do. She knew she wouldn't be able to remain like that for long, but she was determined not to surrender her body to the audience so soon.
The doctor turned Shannon around so that her back was to the crowd, giving the unseen eyes a clear view of her well-toned legs and lithe body. Sensing the admiration of the audience, he tugged at Shannon's bent elbow, guiding her towards the rack as she stumbled clumsily across the dark stage, her straight brown hair flowing behind her. The doctor seated her on the machine with her feet pointed towards the end of the bench and slipped knotted loops of thick rope around her ankles so that they were held just a little wider than her shoulders. He then pushed her back, indicating that she should lie down on the bench. Shannon hesitated a moment, then lay back. She suspected what he intended to do to her, but she wasn't sure how far he'd go. Was he sincere when he said he wouldn't hurt her? Was this really just a big act? She didn't know, but at the same time she knew she didn't want to quit. There was too much at stake to turn back now.
She remembered Caroline's words, that she should hold up well; or rather, that she should hold up well to whatever the doctor had in store for her. She remembered her fantasy from the previous night, of being held captive and made to confess. The thought of it excited her, but that was a fantasy, it wasn't real, and certainly wasn't something she had wanted to be revealed to a group of strangers. She clung to the fantasy; If it wasn't real, then maybe she wouldn't be afraid of him, or of the experience. She vowed to resist him as best she could, for as long as she could. She would defeat him and her fears.
When she was fully reclined, he lifted her by her armpits and pulled her up towards the drum to take the slack out of the ropes that held her feet. He then grasped a length of looped rope from the drum over her head and moved to slip it over her right wrist. She reluctantly lifted her hand, momentarily giving the audience a brief glimpse of her mound. She twitched slightly as the rope brushed against her bare hip and came to rest against the thin fur covering her sex. The doctor then grabbed the other length of looped rope from the drum and slipped it over Shannon's other hand, pulling at the knot until it was securely fastened around her left wrist. He checked the knotted loop around her right wrist and moved towards the drum. Shannon lay on the rack, nude, bound to the evil device, afraid of what the doctor might do to her yet also curious to discover if she had the strength to see it through to the end.
The doctor continued his presentation. "Once more the prisoner would be put to the question, and be given a chance to confess or surrender whatever knowledge the officials wanted. If the heretic were to confess, a scribe would dutifully record her statements, and only after her statement was complete would she be released from the machine. Shannon, do you have anything to confess?" Shannon gave a slight shake of her head, trying to play along with doctors' act. "Very well then. We'll progress to the next stage of the interrogation."
Shannon shuddered nervously as the doctor began to spin the windlass of the machine, the spool taking in the rope binding Shannon's wrists. She felt the rope tugging at her right wrist (the one covering her mound), first since it was the one furthest from the spool. She tried to hold her hand over her sex as long as she could, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her snatch was revealed to the audience. Choking back a low sob, she allowed her hand to be lifted away from her hips and drawn across her torso. She heard the sounds of people shifting in their seats as the rope was wound over the spool, and she could feel their gaze on her private region, its pale skin bared for all to see.
The drum rotated, the rope continuing to be drawn up as she held her left arm across her chest, hiding her nipples that had already begun to harden with anticipation. Soon the rope holding her left wrist felt the tug of the machine and her arms were pulled over her head, revealing the round curves of her breasts to the crowd.
She was now stretched on the rack, bound nude and exposed to the audience who sat in the darkened auditorium, the only sound being the rasping of the doctor's breath as he spun the windlass. She could sense the titillation of the crowd as they studied her body on display before them, the stage lighting giving her skin a warm glow and illuminating the tuft of hair between her legs. The lines of muscle in her thighs stood out under the light as she flexed her legs nervously. Her lean tummy curled slightly as she shifted on the rack. Her arms, tugged up over her head, pulled at her breasts, turning the areolas into soft brown ovals as the stalks of her nipples rose to greet the cool air of the stage. She could feel her heart beating strongly inside her; could hear her breath as it passed across her parted lips. The bright light was directly overhead and she turned her head to the side, away from the crowd, trying to shield her eyes with the upper part of her right arm.
The doctor secured the windlass and looked at Shannon lying on the bench before him. When he had seen her reclining on the padded table during her vaginal exam, he had realized that she would be perfect for the rack. That the position would accentuate the natural curves of her shape nicely. Like most physicians, he considered himself to be an artist of the human body, and he had immediately recognized the potential she held. Knowing that she had been sentenced as a criminal and would be unable to refuse his intentions, he had purposefully probed her erogenous zones to gauge her reaction to sexual arousal. She had responded admirably. The doctor had been pleased. Very pleased, indeed.
Moving behind the rack, the doctor lifted a tray upon which lay various tools and instruments, and strode to the front of the stage. Tilting the tray, the doctor presented the instruments to the audience. "Clamps for crushing the victim's most sensitive tissues; Wire for tying up a man's testicles; Various pins and needles for puncturing skin, and," the doctor said, lifting a round object into the air so that the crowd could get a better view, "the pear, used for extending vaginal and anal openings."
The doctor turned a screw and the object split into thirds, like a piece of fruit as it's cored, the ends revealing sharp claws as a threaded bolt running through the center of the evil instrument spread the pieces wider.
"The talons on this model were designed for ripping and tearing the victim's inner tissues, and could be very effective at extracting confessions, as you'll see in a moment." Shannon shivered at the sound of his speech. Surely he wouldn't use such an evil device on her. She had cooperated with him, had followed his instructions. Perhaps it was just simple theatrics.
She tried to not think about it, about what such a thing could do to a human being. She quivered slightly, bound naked and helpless, her thighs slightly parted and vulnerable to his touch, her breasts exposed and inviting.
The doctor set the tray down behind the rack, out of Shannon's visual range, and grasped the handle of the windlass. Slowly, deliberately, he turned the wheel, drawing the rope across the drum. Shannon could feel the pull on her arms and inhaled deeply, waiting for the stretching of her body. She imagined herself at the hands of the unseen torturer of her fantasy. A damsel held captive in an evil castle, awaiting her handsome prince. A clasp on the windlass ticked off the notches as the toothed gear rotated on the drum. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The pull was increasing steadily, unrelenting, tugging at her arms, lifting her wrists up off the bench. Even as she felt the machine drawing her out, she could feel the sweat beginning to form on her brow and below her breasts, and her pulse began to quicken as she anticipated what was about to happen. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
She could feel the pressure on her arms, the ropes tightening on her wrists, prevented from moving farther by the wide part of her hands. Tick. Tick. Her whole body was beginning to feel the pressure now and she squirmed on the bench as the pull increased on her nude body. Her nipples rose and fell with her breathing as she readied herself for punishment about to be inflicted on her. Tick. Tick.
She could feel the sweat beading on her brow and she knew her whole body was starting to glisten from the force exerted upon her. She felt the warmth beginning to build in her breasts and between her thighs as her body betrayed her fantasy. Tick. She breathed deeply and let the air escape slowly, feeling her ribs starting to push against the taut skin of her torso. Tick. Her hands were beginning to tingle. Pulled up that way, she wondered if they were turning purple from the lack of circulation. Her breathing quickened, her heart pounded in her chest. Tick.
The doctor glanced at the naked body of the girl. He could see her distress in the way she panted heavily as he worked the mechanism. He wanted Shannon to cry out, wanted her to surrender. All she had to do was cry out, to make a confession, and he would stop.
Shannon could feel the rope tightening around her wrists. She opened her eyes to look at the doctor, a quick glance to see what he was doing. Tick. She closed her eyes, an image burned into her mind's eye of the doctor, both hands on the windlass, pushing inexorably against her body's resistance. She could smell the sweat forming on her arms and the moistness beginning to build in her loins. Tick.
Panting heavily, she fought back the fear that threatened to consume her. Her shoulders were being lifted from the bench, joining the steady march of her body towards the drum. She winced as the first tingles of pain trickled down her arms. Tick. Her back, slick with perspiration, loosened its grip on the dark wood of the bench. She buried her mouth against her arm, her breath hot and fast with pain. Tick. Her hands were really tingling now, growing numb from the grip of the ropes around her wrists. She gasped and squirmed as her back started to lift away from the bench. Tick. She could feel the tension in her lower spine, could feel the vertebra straining against the pull of the rack as her torso was pulled into the dark air of the auditorium. Tick. She turned her head from side to side, the pain building as her pale body was lifted from the bench and she was completely suspended above the rack, her feet prevented from moving by the thick ropes around her ankles. Her breath came in quick, rapid gasps as she fought to control the pain welling up inside of her. Her chest heaved, her nipples rising and falling with each hard-fought breath as she hung above the stage, the spotlight illuminating her tortured muscles. Sweat glistened along the full length of her body and matted her hair and she could feel the labor of her lungs as she gasped for each hard-fought breath.
Tick. The doctor had cruelly taken her one more notch, had pushed her to her limits, tested her. She inhaled deeply, agonized, trying to absorb the pain, but it was too much and a cry escaped from somewhere deep in her throat, the scream echoing off the walls of the auditorium. She'd had enough. Her threshold had been reached. The doctor released the tension of the windlass slowly, gently easing her back down onto the bench, but kept enough pressure on her tortured limbs such that she couldn't move. She had been stretched farther than any of his other models had ever gone and he admired her for it. Locking the windlass, the doctor once more strode to the front of the stage, leaving the panting, sweating girl bound to the rack.
"Often, a subject would pass out during the questioning and would need to be revived. The usual method was to rub nettles against the victim's skin, causing a terrible itching. Another method was to douse them with ice cold water." With that, he suddenly produced a pail from a darkened corner of the stage and tossed its contents towards Shannon's bound body. She watched with horror and fascination as the water arced through the air like a crystalline dragon, its full contents landing with a solid ‘smack' against her skin. She opened her mouth and inhaled deeply from the shock of it, gasping and sputtering as the water mixed with her sweat, cooling her body. She shook her head, trying to clear the liquid from her eyes. As the harsh coldness subsided and her rapidly-beating heart slowed, she regained her composure and began to actually feel somewhat refreshed, finding new vigor.
The doctor paused, letting Shannon recover from the ordeal of the stretching, then picked up the tray of terrible instruments when he knew she was ready to continue.
"Once the inquisitors were satisfied that a particular torture had reached its maximum effectiveness, new methods were applied," the doctor announced to the crowd, "and the standard procedure was to focus on the generation of localized pain."
Selecting two small C-shaped instruments from the tray, the doctor held them up to the spotlight. "Clamps, for crushing a woman's nipples."
Shannon watched as the doctor walked towards her, holding the two cruel pieces of metal in his hands. The cold water had stimulated her nipples; they were already hard and proud as the doctor took his place next to her stretched, bound body. She squirmed as the doctor stroked her breasts seductively.
Stimulating her breasts wasn't necessary for this torture since the nubs were already erect and available, but the doctor's manipulation of her breasts was causing her nipples to ache with the pain of sexual excitement. She could feel his gentle touch, a lover's touch, and her body responded involuntarily, becoming aroused even as she lay nude on the rack. She could feel the warmth returning to her breasts, her chest glowing with her passion. The sinewy muscles of her legs and taut torso twisted under her pale, soft skin as the doctor continued stroking her. She could feel the moistness collecting between her legs even as she tried to resist him. He knew where to touch her, where to stroke her skin and stimulate the response he wanted.
He traced circles around her breast, centering on each nipple, then down her belly, stroking the width of her hips just below her bellybutton, between her pelvic bones, then sliding his palms along her flanks, top to bottom, and kneading the skin like a masseuse, stopping at the top of her thin line of soft fur, pushing her blood towards her mound. His fingers raked across her ribs and her tummy, leaving faint lines from the pressure, then his nails danced lightly across her arms and shoulders, then continued down towards her hips. She shuddered at his tickling, her gleaming skin trembling at his touch, the fire beginning to burn in her sex. She lifted her head to encourage his touch, but she was bound tightly to the rack, stretched across its frame, and such movement was difficult. Helpless, she lay her head back and closed her eyes, welcoming the feeling of his hands upon her skin. Her breasts ached with pleasure and she could feel the warmth building in her snatch.
Suddenly she felt the cold chill of the metal clamps on her chest. Lifting her head, she watched as the doctor slowly released the spring of a clamp, its jaws closing against the pert nipple of her left breast. She gasped at the pressure as the metal gripped her sensitive nub, crushing the skin. The doctor lifted the second clamp to her right breast, and she breathed quickly, anticipating the pain as that nub was also crushed by the unforgiving metal. She stared at her own body for a moment, at the clamps adorning her nipples, then, fatigued, lowered her head to the bench, its wood stained dark with sweat and water.
She breathed in the air, absorbing the pain, the clamps on her breasts rising as her lungs filled with air. Her ribs were stretched tightly against her skin, her lean belly pulled flat by the exertion of the rack. Her pubic mound rose towards the light above her, her thin line of fur glistening with wetness, her vaginal juices mixing with the sweat and water that streamed from her body. She knew her ordeal was not yet over, and she swore she would see it through to the end.
"And now gentlemen, the pear."
Shannon was startled by his words. She began to pull at the bonds around her wrists and ankles, trying to free her arms, to close her legs. The doctor positioned himself over her crotch, lowering the oblong metal object between her parted thighs. She closed her eyes, knowing that she would be unable to see it enter her canal, even if she lifted her head. Terror began to fill her thoughts as she remembered how the device had split open to reveal its jagged talons. She felt the pear's cold tip pressing against her vaginal opening and she shuddered, waiting for its intrusion. The doctor rubbed the blunt end of the pear along her swollen lips, letting her anticipate its entry into her body, then slid it slowly into her tunnel. She moaned as it entered her, its metal rubbing against the moist pink tissue. Even with her natural lubricants flowing, it still hurt as the doctor pressed it farther up her orifice. Her vaginal muscles squeezed against the unyielding object as it passed deeper and deeper, and she wondered how far it would go? She felt the pressure deep inside her, as it reached its limit, pressed up against the pink bulb of her cervix.
"Gentlemen, we are now ready to begin the final chapter of today's demonstration." The doctor said solemnly.
The doctor reached down and began turning the screw and she could feel the leaves of the pear slowly spreading wider. She pulled at the bonds holding her wrists and ankles as she tried to move her hips, trying to accommodate the increasing size of the device. She could feel it stretching her tissue, pushing against the insides of her pelvis. She moaned as it kept expanding inside her. Opening her mouth she began a low moan, breathing hard, fresh sweat streaming from her body as the pear split open, entrenching itself within her helpless body, until finally the doctor stopped turning the screw. He knew her limits, how far he could go with her. He had determined that yesterday.
She lay there, stretched taut, open, vulnerable, under the bright light of the darkened stage, sweat streaming from her body, matting her hair, mixing with the juices of her loins. Yes, the doctor had worked her body like a musician works a finely tuned piano. He had brought her pain, and he had brought her pleasure, and he had brought her pain again.
He reached between her thighs and pressed a switch at the base of the pear.
The metallic device immediately began vibrating, a low, gentle hum that seemed to travel across the entire length of her body. She shuddered. Every nerve in her body now focused on the buzzing object buried deep within her sex. Waves of pleasure coursed through her and she inhaled deep and strong, arching her back as best she could, trying to spread her thighs, briny water racing between the furrow of her breasts, breasts that were capped by horrible silver clamps. Her mind became cloudy as the waves of pleasure consumed her body, the fire between her thighs burning with the heat of passion. The doctor, the audience, the punishment of the rack; all faded from her mind. All that existed was her and the object that gave her so much pleasure in her deepest regions.
Her stomach contracted as she moved her hips rhythmically, working towards her climax, the heat building higher and higher as she gulped the cool air desperately, hungrily, a roaring bonfire of lust exploding between her legs, exploding like a supernova, expanding across the reaches of space, consuming her entire universe.
"Oh, God…" she moaned, then exhaled slowly, the air passing through parted lips as she was elevated to a level of pleasure she had not thought possible. Until now.
Shannon shuddered with her orgasm, her body rocking with pleasure, the beads of sweat and water trickling from her body as she tugged at the ropes binding her, the cords of her muscles twisting under her warm skin as she surrendered to the object buried in her sex. Slowly the thrusting of her hips began to subside and a warm peaceful feeling replaced the ache of her passion. She sighed, her bare breasts heaving as the warmth infused her entire body, spreading from the glorious wetness between her thighs.
Basking in the glow of her womanhood, she hardly realized that the buzzing had stopped as she settled onto the bench, breathing deeply, warmly. Her heart was slowing, returning to its usual steady beat and a feeling of utter contentment came over her as her body relaxed.
"You look, absolutely radiant."
Shannon blinked her eyes open. A woman's voice, familiar, but the face was blurry. Who was it? Shannon tried to focus on the image, straining against the bright light and the salty liquid that had seeped into her eyes. A halo of blonde hair above her. An angel. Fingers gently caressed her forehead, brushing her hair back, wiping the sweat and water from her face delicately, lovingly. A woman's touch. Shannon tried to speak, but her throat was dry. Her voice cracked "Caroline?"
"Hey, sweetie." Fingers continued to stroke Shannon's hair, comforting her. "You were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic."
Shannon opened her mouth to speak, but Caroline tenderly pressed her fingertips to Shannon's nose and mouth, "Shhhh. Don't try to speak yet. Give yourself a moment. There's no rush. You're so beautiful right now; so precious."
Shannon smiled and relaxed, resting comfortably on the dampened wood of the bench, shivering with pleasure. Caroline loosened the ropes on Shannon's wrists so that blood could circulate back into her hands, but she didn't completely remove them. She wanted Shannon to remain affixed to the machine a bit longer.
Shannon's mind was beginning to clear and she looked around. The doctor and the audience were gone. It was just the two women, one bound nude; helpless, adorned by instruments of pain, the other clothed and free. Caroline leaned over the helpless girl's chest.
"Shannon, dearest, I'm going to remove one of the clamps now, ok?"
Caroline looked at Shannon, waiting for a sign of affirmation, and said "I should warn you, it hurts just as much coming off as it does going on."
Shannon steadied herself and took a deep breath, waiting for the pain to come, steeling her mind against the unwanted sensation. As Caroline squeezed the springs on the clamp, the cruel jaws parted and drew back from the pressed skin. Shannon winced, pursing her lips in pain as the blood returned to the pinched nub, and cried silently as Caroline set the loosened clamp on a corner of the bench. She massaged Shannon's wounded nipple, softly rubbing the skin around it, soothing the burning tissue. It felt good.
"Are you ready for the other one, now?" Caroline whispered. Shannon nodded her head quickly, steadying herself for the pain. Caroline squeezed the clamp open and lifted it from Shannon's nipple as a small cry of anguish escaped from Shannon's mouth. Shannon jerked at the ropes around her wrists and ankles.
"There, there, sweetie. It's almost over." Caroline said softly as she began rubbing both of Shannon's nipples, caressing them gently, using her palms to massage the mounds of Shannon's breasts. Shannon squirmed on the rack, feeling the tingles of searing pain in her tits as the circulation returned to the injured skin, even as her natural endorphins tried to mask the agony of her body's abuse.
Caroline moved down to Shannon's waist and placed a hand over the bound girl's sex, petting it gently, alerting Shannon as to what was going to happen next. Shannon lifted her head and remembered the toothed ends of the pear, imagining how it would rip apart her tissue and she could feel the fear welling up inside her again.
"Lefty loosey, righty tighty." Caroline mumbled to herself, Shannon could feel the pear shrink inside her tunnel, retracting upon itself as Caroline turned the screw.
"No!" Shannon thought to herself, "don't do it!"
When the screw would turn no further, Caroline began withdrawing the device from Shannon's nude body. Shannon tried to yell ‘No,' but all she could muster was a hoarse whisper, and she swallowed, hard. Trying to find enough moisture to speak, to scream.
Jerking hard at the ropes around her wrists and ankles, fighting the grip of the rack, Shannon shook her head violently, croaking her protests from an impossibly dry throat. Shannon would do anything, anything at all, to keep from having her insides ripped apart.
Shannon was ready to surrender, to do anything that was asked of her. Caroline ignored her pleas and proceeded to remove the object. Caroline knew Shannon would fight her, and had left her tied to the bench for that reason. Shannon could feel the pear sliding out of her and she could imagine what it was doing to her sex, to her womanhood. Still bound to the rack, unable to speak. Too weak to resist, she could do nothing but gasp and tremble with fear. Finally she felt the device part from her body and she wondered how much blood was mixing with her juices in her genitals, her sweat on her legs, and the water on the table. Strangely, she felt no pain, but she knew that in extreme cases of trauma a nerve ending could be over stimulated and render the injured tissue numb. Shannon trembled violently with fear at the thought of the damage to her loins.
Caroline held up the evil device, the one that had given Shannon so much pleasure and caused so much fear, so that Shannon could see it clearly. Surprisingly, there was no trace of blood; nothing as traumatic as she had imagined. Shannon looked at Caroline, utterly confused, but still no words could come from her throat, so Shannon mouthed, "What?"
Caroline looked back at the helpless girl and laughed. "You poor thing. The doctor played a trick on you; a terrible, wonderful trick." Shannon realized what had happened. He had switched the units! She smiled and laughed weakly at her gullibility.
Caroline moved to the foot of the rack and freed Shannon's legs, then moved up to the drum and finally released her wrists from the ropes that had abraded her skin. Though freed of the grip of the rack, Shannon was too exhausted to move, and laid in the position she had been forced to assume during the presentation. Caroline sat on the bench beside her and stroked Shannon's forehead, wiping the fresh beads of perspiration from her skin as she lay on the rack.
Shannon was completely spent. Every joint in her body ached and her muscles felt like rubber. Her body was limp with exhaustion, suffering the dullness of extreme fatigue. Shannon, groggily, lowered her arms and tried to sit up. Caroline saw her struggling and wrapped one arm behind the poor girl, helping her lean forward, and placed the other across her shoulders to steady her. Caroline tenderly stroked Shannon's face and the nude girl began to cry softly; from pain or from love, Caroline couldn't tell. Caroline squeezed Shannon's shoulder and drew her closer, consoling her, cradling her head as the younger girl wept in Caroline's comforting embrace.
"There, there, sweetie. Its all right, everything's ok," she whispered. Shannon accepted Caroline's hug, lifting her arms to grasp Caroline even as sobs choked in her throat, "That's all right, let it out. It's all over now."
Shannon released herself completely, letting her emotions flood out of her unabashedly. She had been taken to the heights of pain, of pleasure, of ecstasy, and now — of love.
As Shannon's cries began to subside, Caroline separated herself from the nude girl and slid off the bench. Reaching underneath the machine, she lifted a soft red blanket and wrapped it around the wet skin of Shannon's shoulders and handed her a bottle of water. The water tasted like a magical elixir, its cool sensation splashing across Shannon's tongue and soothing her parched throat as the clear liquid emptied from the bottle. Exhaling with a satisfied sigh, Shannon tried to speak.
"Where… where is everybody?" Her voice was more breath than words.
"They're all gone." Caroline laughed, "The doctor excused the audience just after he switched on the vibrating pear. He wanted your first forced orgasm to be a private experience. He felt he owed you that much. He wanted me to be here for you because he was afraid you might develop feelings for him afterwards and that would've complicated things for the next presentation. So, he and Annette left as soon as the audience had cleared out. And here I am."
Shannon, now becoming aware of her nakedness and where she was, felt a tinge of embarrassment at what she had allowed to be done to her. She had submitted herself to a strange man's touch, given him permission to bind her, to explore her body, to reveal her fantasies, and he had done it in front of complete strangers. And she had enjoyed it.
"How much?" She asked furtively, "How much did you see?"
"Oh, not much. He stationed me in the lobby to see the guests away. Besides, it was nothing new to me. You aren't the first. I've been through it, too, you know. Only I had to deal with Annette's straightforward clinical approach to employee health care - clean me up, dress me, send me on my way. I didn't really have someone there for me afterwards."
Shannon looked at her and realized the generous gift that Caroline had given her.
"You can thank me later," Caroline said jokingly. "Come on, let's get you home."