I was reasonably certain Patricia would like my new toy, but it had to be introduced in the right way. After some consideration, I came up with a plan. Patricia was accustomed to my surprises and true to our agreement always resisted as much as she could without injuring me, just as I in my efforts to capture her used as much force as I could without harming her (I admit to exploiting the fact that the woman defines "harm" like no one I know). I could usually get her in the restraints, but not always, and this time I was going to make certain she didn't escape. I invited Patricia and Sharon over for coffee and pastry that Saturday. Since each woman has on occasion been successful in escaping my ambushes (it's rather disappointing both to them and me when that happens, but none of us find the game satisfactory when the resistance is inauthentic) Patricia knew I couldn't overpower them both, so she wouldn't expect me to try anything with both women present. I knew that their plans for the weekend had been scrapped at the last minute (getting that party scratched had cost me a big favor), so neither of them would be expected anywhere this weekend, giving us plenty of time to play. I needed them to stick around for a bit, so after the coffee I asked Patricia for some SF recommendations, knowing that it would take more than a bit for her to list her favorites. We were about three feet into her ten foot shelf when Sharon exclaimed: "Oh, I feel dizzy." "Really ?", I said, "well, perhaps you should lie down. I'll get you some water ". I was bringing the water when I said, "Damn, I should have gotten a cool rag too. Patricia, would you get that while I give her the water ?". "Sure", she said, and rose from her chair only to stagger. "Now, I'm dizzy. Maybe something in the pastry was bad", then had an epiphany. "You BASTARD !", she shouted as she dropped to her knees, "this is sick, if you....". The drug took hold then and cut her off in mid-threat.

"Don't worry, dear ladies, the drug doesn't last long, and it seldom has adverse side effects; there's only about an 8% chance you'll lose your hair and your skin will turn orange". I knelt over Patricia's fallen form. "It must be an intriguing sensation," I said as I stroked her deep brown hair, "being fully conscious with complete feeling but no voluntary muscle control, totally helpless and deliciously vulnerable". I lifted her eyelids and looked into her hazel eyes. She was awake, and mad. I started undressing Patricia. After I freed her breasts I took a pair of needle-nosed pliers and gave her left nipple a good twist. No reaction at all from Patricia. "I know you felt that, and undoubtedly wanted to scream, but nothing happened when you tried. While the drug's effect lasts you'll breath, somewhat shallowly, and you heart will beat, but that's all. I could stick pins in your clit and you wouldn't twitch; I could lay your feet in a fire and though you'd feel all the pain and smell the burning flesh, no matter how hard you'd try you'd never be able to move your feet. My plans for you aren't that quite that nasty, but I think you'll find them interesting". I finished stripping Patricia, then retrieved a rolling table and put her on it for her trip to the playroom. "It's not that I couldn't carry you, my dear, but I prefer to save energy for those things that require a human touch". I deposited her on a table in the playroom and went back to retrieve Sharon; the drug's duration is not completely predictable and she was close enough to a phone to be troublesome (I hate 911). I brought Sharon to the playroom, shackled and leashed her and stuffed a ball gag in her mouth, and propped her up on some pillows so she could observe what happened to her friend.

As I'd had few opportunities to test the drug, a test seemed to be in order; actually, I knew Patricia would still be totally helpless, but I like hurting her. The insertion of a sharp, thin needle into her breasts, buttocks, stomach, and the arches if her feet didn't produce a twitch or a sound. Satisfied - for the moment - I uncovered my new toy and opened it. "You may recall all the measurements I took of you when last I had you locked up here. I needed them for my new apparatus." I picked Patricia up and placed her inside the molded steel, her 5'8.5" form fitting perfectly. I slid her arms and legs and fingers into the appropriate sheaths and tightened the clamps to hold them motionless, then made certain her feet were secure in the stirrups. "This matches your measurements precisely, Patricia. When I close it, you'll be snugly encased from your head to your ankles. Well, not quite encased. Your breasts and buttocks and crotch will be exposed for my attentions, as will your feet, and there's an opening for your nostrils. The diaphram measurements were taken when inhaling, so you'll be able to breath. There's no openings for your eyes or mouth and the headpiece will - I hope - fit so that you can't open your mouth to protest, but I did have them leave earholes for you."

Happily, it fit perfectly. The padding in the headpiece compressed nicely, permitting it to lock in place while holding Patricia's head in a firm but safe embrace. When I rotated the case 90 degrees on it's swivel I watched Patricia's bare feet in their stirrups to see if they slid downwards at all; they didn't, indicating that the victim was securely pressed into her prison. Just to check I rotated her 180 degrees so her feet were facing upwards, then another 180 degrees. She was in there good and tight. I gave it a few more 360 degree spins - not to test anything, I just liked watching her tits and ass roll past - then stopped to wait for the drug to wear off. I glued wires to each foot and let a mild direct current run thru them. As the drug wore off we'd see her feet squirming. Of course, she was hurting as much now as she would be then, but for the moment she couldn't respond. Or so I thought. When I decided to pass the time by fingering Patricia, I learned differently. It seems there are some reactions that the drug doesn't effect.

It wasn't long before the rest of her became as responsive as her pussy had remained. Her feet started twitching, then squirming, a movement that increased when I increased the current. Sharon was coming around too, so I turned my attention to her. I retrieved an electric slave prod (the power is set lower than the cattle prod, so it inflicts pain with less tendency to induce rigor and/or paralysis) and jabbed her thigh to gain her attention. I've always preferred having the ladies undress themselves at least partly, and I'd left her wrists in front so she could do so. She didn't like the idea, but liked the prod even less, and soon she had her skirt, slip, and stockings off, and her blouse open. I removed the handcuffs and told her get the blouse and bra off. She didn't move fast enough to suit me and got a jab of the prod to her right nipple, which evoked what I guess would have been quite a shriek if not for all the rubber in her mouth. After that jolt of electricty she moved with a bit more alacrity (she'd actually been doing quite adequately without being zapped, but I so like that alacrity from electricity line, and life isn't fair, is it ? ), and was left with just her panties, which was fine for now. Sharon was sufficiently distressed at being so nearly naked that the loss of her panties now would add little, but in a short time that last little bit of modesty would be important to her; that was when she would lose it. I tied her hands behind her tightly and cinched her elbows together, attached a spreader bar to her ankles that would keep her legs wide apart, then locked a wide collar around her neck with a chain attached to an "O" ring in the floor, so that no matter how intently I might concentrate on Patricia, Sharon wouldn't be able to sneak away, and then turned my attentions to Patricia.

"I'm afraid I'll need my fingers for other things, my dear, so I won't be able to keep stimulating you. But this should help," I said as I attached a vibrator to the apparatus and slid it into place. "But of course we want a variety of stimuli, don't we ?", I asked, as I applied the weighted nipple clamps, then tapped the weights to get them swinging. Swiveling my new toy so that it was parallel with the floor caused the weights to hang straight down. "Is that enough stimuli, Patricia ?" Silence. "I do so hate to disappoint you with some mundane torture that anyone could withstand. I'll tell you what, I'll just go ahead and play and you tell me when you've had enough. The safeword will be, 'Do it to Sharon'. You just say that when you can't bear it any longer." More silence, though I did detect some slight vibration in the iron shell. "OK, enough negotiation", I said, locking the shell in place. I turned the electric current off and removed the wires from her arches; wiping away the glue with some alcohol I saw that no burns were left. I wrapped some thin wet cloths around Patricia's big toes and the toes next to them, then wrapped the wires around the cloth encircling her big toes, and put the low current back on. "Sorry for the interruption, love, but I had to move those wires. Suppose I should decide on a little steel pipe bastinado ? I might have gotten a shock."

"Now we can start to play", I said, seizing a thin cane. A couple of swishes past the earholes, then it slashed down across her buttocks. "How was that ? Just safeword when you want me to stop." A dozen more slashing blows across her buns, leaving some quite angry lines on her exterior. Now a few strokes that don't actually touch the flesh, to give her a chance to recover a bit while keeping up the anticipation, before I start inserting the random genuine stroke. I keep this up until each hot bun is nicely crisscrossed with welts. Fondling her cheeks, I remark, "They're so red and hot, dear. It's time for a change, wouldn't you say ?". Silence. "No ? Well, I think it's time for a change". So, I hang up the cane, and bring out a another toy. I let her wait a bit, first tracing her welts with a finger, then stroking the soles of her feet, while she tries to guess what part of her anatomy will be next. The suspense ends when a wide paddle comes smashing down across her burning buns. A few more repetitions set the shell to vibrating. "A bit impersonal, isn't it, hun ?", I ask, before switching to barehanded spanking, usually striking each cheek in turn but occasionally striking one cheek with two or three successive blows to be sure she couldn't anticipate the next target. At last I stop when Patricia's buttocks are swollen and bright red and more importantly, my hand hurts. "It's been said that you're a real hardtail, but I didn't think it was meant literally. It seems there's more than one iron maiden in this room". Stroking her buttocks - softly - with my left hand, I remark "Even hotter than before. I suppose we should cool them down", and take two bags of ice from the freezer and lay one across each of her throbbing cheeks, wrapping the ice bags and burning buns with a wide bandage to assure the ice remains in place. That should feel good, I thought - for a little while.

Since I didn't want to do anything that might dislodge the icebags before they ceased to be a pleasure, I decided it would be rude to ignore my other guest. The widening of her eyes as I approached suggested that she was not feeling neglected, but discourtesy should not be excused merely because one's guest is too good-natured to take offense. I looped a rope around her bound wrists then through an overhead pulley. A couple good pulls brought her to her feet, but the chain attached to her collar was too short too allow her to stand upright, so she was left standing, her legs far apart, bent to the waist, with her arms at an almost 90 degree angle to her shoulders and her breasts dangling delightfully. Such a target was irresistable. A pair of extremely strong clamps were located and applied to her nipples and adjusted to the maximum possible tightness. I then attached cords to the end of each clamp, tying the opposite end of each cord to the ring at the end of a leash, and fastened the leash to one of the ubiquitous "O" rings. By inserting a rod through one of the holes in the leash and turning the rod a few times, her breasts could be stretched. After stretching them far enough to be sure she understood the potential, I returned the leash to minimal tension, and turned my attention from tits to ass. She still had her panties on, a state that couldn't be tolerated indefinitely, but before she lost them I wanted to reinforce their importance.

Three dozen strokes of the paddle across her derriere may not be a very logical way to raise the value she placed on her last bit of clothing, as it made it quite clear how little protection such thin cloth provided, but when one's ass is that sore the thought that one might lose any thread of protection is quite dreadful. So I administered the spanking at a leisurely pace, with many changes of tempo to keep Sharon uncertain when the next blow would fall, and when I asked "You don't mind if I remove your panties for the next three dozen, do you ?", she franticly shook her red and tear streaked head while some urgent if inarticulate grunts came from behind the gag. I took this to mean that she didn't mind, and cut her panties off over some high pitched squeals. While I didn't imagine that she'd forgotten that she was now completely naked, a close visual and tactile examination of her exposed pudenda made certain that she knew she'd lost what modesty she'd had, and also allowed her extra time to think about how much an additional three dozen strokes on her inflamed and now bare buttocks would hurt. "Well, dear, let's get back to business. Ready for the next thirtysix ?", I said, which sent her to madly shaking her head, an action that caused her breasts to bounce quite prettily. "Oh, Sharon, you don't really think I could be so cruel to deliver an additional thirtysix strokes when someone is so obviously in distress, do you ? How could I be that cruel to anyone, least of all to a friend ?", I said, and the relief on her face was quite obvious. "Two dozen will be quite sufficient", I said, at which point the relief vanished and she started franticly shaking her head again. "No ?", I said, "It won't be enough ?" At this she stopped shaking her head, twice being as often as that trick was going to work, and looked at me in obvious confusion as to how she could respond without getting herself in more trouble. I let her ponder for a moment, then suggested "Perhaps thirty will do ?". She had no response to this, doubtlessly having realized that I would interpret any response in whatever way would let me do what I wanted, and deciding that I could do it without her "consent". But, of course, silence gives consent.

As delightful as it had been watch her breasts bounce during the first set, this seemed the appropriate time to help Sharon stretch as a submissive, so I turned the rod a few times so that her breasts were pulled forward till her tits were quite taut, and in the second session each vibration and every movement caused quite serious pain in her breasts. She tried to hold still, but the force of the spanking itself was enough to move her, and the battering of her bare, bruised buttocks was sufficiently painful that she soon began involuntary and futile attempts to evade the next blow, movements which tortured her tits. This was just too delightful, so I blindfolded her, which in conjunction with the tempo variations kept her jumping when no blow was coming, with wonderfully painful consequences. Long before I was finished her blindfold was dripping wet from her tears. The ball gag blocked much of the volume of her screams, but enough got out that I'm sure Patricia must have heard it and wondered what I could be doing to her friend to cause such a response. After the thirtieth stroke, I knelt by Sharon's head, removed the blindfold, and asked, "Is it OK with you if I go hurt Patricia for awhile ?", to which she responded with some enthusiastic nods. "OK", I said, "but before I leave you, it appears that pulling on your tits like this is keeping you off balance. Would you like me to restore your balance ?", to which she responded with a hopeful look and some more nods of her pretty head. It seems hope does spring eternal in the human breast. "Alright, Sharon, I'll put some weighted clamps on your pussy lips to balance the tit clamps". At this point she changed her mind, which some say is a woman's perogative, but I refuse to insult my play partners with such sexist claptrap, so I went ahead and spread her labia, putting a rat trap on each lip. Since I was in the neighborhood, I stroked her clit for awhile, listening while her moans and squeals changed. I stopped stroking, but placed my finger alongside her clit, and soon she started moving her hips to rub her clit against my finger, despite the added tension on her breasts. I let this go on for a few minutes, as Sharon's vagina became wetter and her movement faster and more forceful and I could hear nothing in her grunts that suggested she was experiencing pain, which was quite unacceptable, so I attached an alligator clamp to her clitoris, then hung the weights from the rat traps, and having restored both her balance and her pain, turned my attention back to Patricia.

"So, luv, is your hot little butt feeling any better ? Wiggle your left big toe if it is. Oh, yes, I forgot, both toes have been wiggling since I moved the wires. Let me turn the electricity off. Now, if the ice feels good, move your left big toe." Nothing. "If it's uncomfortable, move your right big toe". Movement. "So you'd like it removed ?" The right toe wiggled again. "Whatever you say", I said, unwrapping the bandage and taking the ice bags off her buttocks, which my caress confirmed were quite cold. But when I detach the vibrator, and reach in to play with Pat's pussy, I find some places are quite warm. As I play with her warm, wet pussy, I ask, "How's this feel ?". I wait a moment while she decides how to respond, then her left big toe moves, indicating it feels good. Digital communication is a wonderful thing. My right hand played with her for a bit while my left hand improvised. I opened one of the ice bags, and found a partly melted cube with safe round edges. I kept fingering Patricia; her enforced silence and immobility was a problem now, as I had no good way of judging how far gone she was. "How do you like it, luv ?", I asked, and the movement of her left toe indicated she hadn't zoned out on me yet, but I couldn't judge her precise status. Next time I'm going to bring some beakers so I can measure fluid flows; I hated to move too soon, but a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush (hmmm, not the most suitable aphorism for these situations). Well, I thought, she's hot, and you've still got her attention, so....

The sudden insertion of the ice cube into her vagina, right up against her clit, provoked a reaction that shook the whole apparatus. Her right big toe started wiggling madly. I waited for two minutes, then extracted the ice cube, waited thirty seconds, then put fresh cube in her vagina, and another in her anus. The toe was going again. "Thank you, Patricia, I'm aware the ice hurts." I unlocked and rotated the shell so she was tits up, and removed the nipple clamps. "Hey guys", I said as I fingered her nipples, "how's it feel to be back in circulation ?". There was no answer, but after stroking and kissing them for a few minutes I had to conclude they felt pretty good. "Still cold, Patricia ?", I inquired. The right toe moved. "Want me to warm you up ?" No response. I hate it when they can anticipate me. I'd had a few candles burning for a while, one of them the wide kind with a deep wax reservoir. I took one of the narrow candles and dripped a few drops onto her left breast from a few feet above it. Too high to hurt much, it gave her something to think about. I let her consider what was coming for a couple minutes, then starting dripping wax in concentric circles around her left breast from a height of two inches above the skin. I'd tried the wax from that height onto my arm, and knew that while it hurt it wouldn't burn. I'm sure it hurt a lot more on Patricia's breast than it did on my arm (I suppose I could have tested it on a more sensitive area, but I don't usually wax my shaft before these sessions). Moving to her other breast, I let the wax fall right on her nipple, which I think I saw jump. I continued to drip onto her nipple until it was covered in wax, then took the wide candle and pored its reservoir of wax over the rest of the breast. This wax was not as hot, and the immediate effect less dramatic, but it would be great fun to remove later with a wire brush.

She had, of course, another nipple, and she knew I would be attending to it soon (knowledge can indeed be a deadly friend). But she wasn't going anywhere, so I could take the time to drip some hot wax on Sharon's naked back for a few minutes, then tease her with the flame of the candle for a few minutes more, moving it about below her thighs and breasts close enough for the heat to be very unpleasant, but moving it quickly enough that no burns resulted. When I got back to Patricia, I took an ice cube and rubbed it on her left nipple, which aside from being uncormfortable, would accentuate the heat of the wax when it came. Or so I hoped she would think. The ice was also melting as it was rubbed over and over around her warm nipple, making it quite wet. So when I rotated her into an upright position and put the flame of the candle briefly in contact with her wet flesh the pain and shock were exquiste but no damage was done. I repeated the process of icing/wetting her nipple then quickly applying the flame; the surprise was gone, to be replaced by the anticipation. Periodically putting my fingers into her crotch confirmed that she was no longer suffering from the cold, and that I didn't need to worry about a source of moisture for the fireplay.

However, nothing lasts forever, which most definitely includes my patience. While the apparatus was convenient for many things, it couldn't be called all-purpose. "Patricia, wriggle your left toe if you want out of your armor", I asked, and the toe wiggled. "Now we're going to binary communications, left is "yes" and right is "no". When I let you out of here, are you going to be good and not put up a fight ?". The right toe wriggled. "Well, then, when I let you out, are you going to be good ?" The left toe wriggled.

That's good enough for me.

The End