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All the extreme sensitive feminine anatomical parts of heiress Patricia LaMange have been porcupined... in D/s parlance.
“Oh Pattie,” Kelly softly admonishes, knowing the girl cannot hear, “you’ve had a long, long afternoon,” noting the broken capsules of ammonia next to the depleted Sterno.
Now many times did Pattie faint, only to be revived for the next searing hot needle?
Kelly needs to act. Too long hanging in an upright position will foster a cascade of life threatening reactions... various biological systems will one by one shut down. Once again Pattie has offered herself to the dangerous whims of an amateur. Subordinates held in such precarious forms of restraint require supervision.
What to do?
Lowering the unconscious form may bring damage, too many needles, too much chance of further penetration in toppling to the floor, the dozens of pricks currently superficial, intended only to bring intense pain until cooled. Thus Kelly needs a mobile Pattie LaMange, able to support herself... briefly... when the harness is lowered and removed.
To the kitchen... a towel... some ice... Pattie will need to be revived, the deluge of endorphins spurred by her ordeal countered... the strange but welcomed nirvana of the vanquished masochist to end.
Chapter Eight
Kelly decides the most practical position for the required aftercare, the removal of many piercing needles, is to return Pattie to the stocks. Having released the harness’s taut chain, lowering the semi conscious form, toes to the floor... carefully... she worked quickly to embrace the smooth softness of her torso and guided gently as the knees buckled and the tiling beckoned. Leashed... always making her client sense her control... Kelly awaited until the girl’s head cleared. Then with soft, but firm commands, jiggling the leash in encouragement, Kelly led the girl to the nearby stocks. Spreader bar remaining in place, the short trip was awkward and required time, the threat of many needles precluding haste.
“You’ve endangered yourself again, Pattie. You came across another dilettante... and judging by the lipstick on the cigarette butts... another woman.”
Pattie nods ever so slightly, the heavy wood of the stocks encumbering her neck.
“I did not know about the needles... she never told me. Said she had something I would enjoy.”
“And you did... didn’t you? Despite the intensity of the pain, deep within your cunny creamed didn’t it?”
“Yes, Ma’am, I suppose it did.”
“Well if you had been left to hang much longer, it would have been the last time you felt those twinges... felt anything at all,” Kelly lectures, her tone that of a stern mother. “The needles are barbed, Pattie. You encountered special wickedness today. Impossible to just pull out. I’m going to have to push them all through... one at a time.”
Kelly sits on the low stool where days ago she shaved Pattie’s head. Her right hand reaches forth, carefully palming the underside of the left breast, dangling low and pendulously. With the size outlandishly large for a girl of Pattie’s stature, the protruding needles almost graze the tiled floor.
“Stay still... as much as possible. Any squirming and the needles in your pussy lips may do more damage. I’ll get to those next. How many times did you faint? She used many ammonia capsules to assure you felt every hot thrust... so slight... the skin so easily jabbed... but so painful.”
“I don’t know. She was here... well... forever.”
“She worked slowly. She took her time... pure evil in enjoying herself. For her there was no point in rushing... lots of needles...lots of soft tender spots,” Kelly notes in slowly pushing through the first of dozens of shards.
“You asked me about Nusquam,” dropping the first needle into a waiting dish. “If you’d like to learn more, I have been given some latitude.”
Pattie squeals. With the flow of endorphins depleted, the pain of removal is not felt as a catalyst for sexual thrill.
“Yes, whatever it is, David suggested it may be for the best.”
“I am tending to agree with him, at this point,” a second needle pinging the dish.
“Nusquam is a place... a special place for people of your ilk... with your paraphilia. Do you know Latin?
“No Ma’am.”
“Well the word would translate to ‘nowhere’, ‘nothing’, ‘in no place’. And in a way it is. Few know of it.
.. fewer know precisely where it is.”
“Where is it?”
“If I knew, I would not tell you. But for the likes of you Pattie, it would be considered sanctuary. You’d be safe... from yourself... from those who dispense pain and torment so recklessly.”
“You’ve been there?”
