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A Fetish Party in a Private Club:
I do not think I ever put myself in
such a painful and humiliating position! Nevertheless, I
hope that my pain will transform myself in a mood such as
the one I felt, a few weeks earlier, when I started to
notice that my Master was being turned on when he was
watching me suffer severe pain (see
).
But, I just cannot not reach that mood.
My pain is too strong.
With the help of
many leather straps, my legs well apart,
I am now tightly bond, on one of the two
"X" crosses which forms a huge
rack, standing in the middle of the dance
floor of the private club in which I am
now a prisoner. My feet rest, a few
centimeters above the ground, on little
stands attached to the bottom ends of the
legs of the cross. The way these little
stands are affixed give me the feeling
the arches of my feet are maintained at a
steeper angle. Even with the leather
straps which maintain my legs well apart,
I feel the whole weight of my body resting
on the very tip of my feet shod in six
inches heeled sandals.
The hem of my long
black skirt is raised up to my waist so
that my fishnet stockings, held by the
garters of my corset, are well in sight.
My unfeminine sex can be seen by
everybody in the room because, as soon as
I entered the club, my Master ordered me
to take off my panties. He is the one,
whom I nicknamed "my
gentle man"
in relation with a previous adventure of
mine (see
), who tied me up in that position.
I am under the
impression that he is turned on by seeing
myself in pain and when he hears me screaming
but he might also have chosen to punish
me because, earlier in the evening, I
told him that I felt jealous of the
beautiful transvestite, with a
magnificent body, who is the barmaid of
the club. This Pénélope is the same one
who whips me viciously between my legs
since I have been tied up to the cross.
I have been bond to
that cross for more than half an hour now and
I try, as well as I can, to keep standing
on my heels, as I did for the last four
hours. My feet, my calves and my legs are
in tremendous pain. I am even under the
impression that the pain caused by the
whipping of my body serves mainly to make
me forget the pain caused by the cruel
heels affixed to my shoes.
Tonight, I am
attending a Fetish Night party, in a
private swingers club, on St-Laurent
street, in Montréal. This is the place
where my Master asked me to meet him.
And, if I climbed on those stillettos, it
is only to try to impress him.
This is only our
third meeting together and he did not
express too many requests in relation
with the way I must dress to accompany
him. But, as you no doubt already know, I
am just crazy about high heeled shoes.
And, I wrongly believed that he would
have pity on me as soon as he would
discover how my movements are considerably
restrained by the shoes I am wearing. To
my great dismay, either he did not notice
that I can hardly move, which is
unbelievable, or he did notice and he is
making fun of me by requiring that I
stand on my heels for long period of
time.
Everytime I plan to go for
an evening out, as soon as possible, I
put on a pair of heels at least one inch
higher than the one I am going to wear
for the evening. Tonight, as I cannot
walk on higher heels, right after donning my
corset and stockings, I put on the shoes
I actually wear. Based on that experience
and since my understanding was that we
would be seated during the greatest part of the evening, I believed I could keep them on
during that period of time.
But, when I got out
of the house to go to my car, I realized
pretty soon that I could not go that far.
So, I went back into the house to change
for lower heeled pumps. But, in the back
of my mind, I had the firm intention to
put back on my stilletto sandals as soon
as I would get near the club.
When I realized I
had parked my car about five hundred
meters away from it, I had my sandals on
in no time. My first stimulating
experience of the night happenned as soon
as I put one feet on the sidewalk. A
beautiful lady, who was passing by, stopped
to have a closer look at my shoes and,
with a great smile of admiration, said:
"I feel jealous
since you can wear such great
sandals. I would so much like to be able
to do the same."
I was so surprised
that I did not even had time to speak
back to her or to thank her properly. As
soon as she had said that, she was back
on her way. Later in the evening, when I
told that story to my Master, he was mad
at me because I did not use that
opportunity to present her to him.
For our rendez-vous
at the club, my Master had ordered me to
put on a spiked leather collar and wide
leather cuffs to my wrists and ankles. As
soon as I started to walk on the
sidewalk, I realized I could only make
very short steps. Moreover, the metal
clips attached to my ankle cuffs made
such a rattle. I felt so very much
humiliated to show myself like that on
such a busy street. It was like my Master
had requested me to do everything I could
to bring everybody's attention on me.
When I reached the
first street corner, I realized I had to
go back to my car since I did not
remember exactly the club address but,
most of all, I lacked sufficient courage
to go further.
Back to the car, my
feet were hurting like hell but, as I was
already late, I did not have much choice
and, after checking the address of the
club, I went back on my feet at the
fastest speed which allowed my high
heels.
Back on the sidewalk
there were so many people to watch me
and, at the next street corner, it seemed
that the traffic light would never turn
green.
The rest of the walk
seemed to last a century but I finally
made it to the club entrance. I was
sweating a lot but, at least I had high
hopes to be able to take a rest. Was I
wrong!
My Master arrives almost
immediately and we enter the club.
But, I cannot sit yet. Instead, I
am ordered to stay on my feet to wait a
long time for the admission procedures.
You see, it is a private club.
Our admission completed, we come in
and I am finally allowed to sit but only the time
nescessary for my Master to attach a chain leash to my
collar. Immediately after his little task completed, he
orders me to go to the bar so the barmaid could put a
bottle of wine on ice.
When I come back to
sit beside my Master, he just notices
that, contrary to his request, I wear
panties. I am immediately ordered at the
other end of the room, to go to the
ladies washrooms to remove them.
I come back as
soon as I can because I feel so
humiliated to notice that my little penis
is sticking out from under my tight skirt. I
do not have any more the protection of
panties to hide it.
As soon as I am back beside my
Master, he immediately gives my leash to an unknow man. When we came in, he was seated on a coach, in front of
us, and he was not missing a beat of what we were doing.
Then, the three of us take a walk
to the dance floor, at the other end of the room, where a
beautiful girl is being whipped, tied up on the rack made of
the two "X" crosses. I must stand on my heels for more than
half an hour while my new found master watches the show, my
leash in his hands.
I feel very excited
by the whipping of the girl but, during
all that time, my whole body keeps
shaking because I have great difficulty
to stand still on my heels and also
because I am so afraid that this unknown
man could very well have the idea to whip
me on the cross too. I must admit that,
sometimes my excitement is due to the
kisses he gives me. It is so exciting
when he inserts his tongue into my mouth.
Surprisingly, I do not feel disgusted by
what he does. No doubt, that guy knows
how to kiss my kind of girl.
After, a long period of time, the
man notices that I have great diffiulty to stand on my feet.
So, he allows me to sit on one of the bar stools and offers
me a glass of wine. It does not last very long because after
only one sip of the wine, the owner comes and we begin a
tour of the club. It is made very clear to me
that the three of them are not in a
hurry. They ask a lot of questions to the
owner who anwers sometimes in french,
sometimes in english. But, everything is
translated. When they walk from one room
to another, since I cannot walk as fast
as they do, my new master pulls very
hard on my leash. I even have to
negociate very steep staircases. At about
the middle of the visit, my feet are
already a mess.
At some point during the visit, we
enter a room, in the basement, where there is a bed and
torture equipment. The man who holds my leash does not miss
a chance to fondle me while my Master does not seem to
notice us.
In front of the
torture equipment, I am afraid they will punish me. But, a
moment later, I start to hope they would tie me up on the
bed so that I could recuperate a litlle bit. But, nothing
like that happens.
When we finally come
back near the rack, another girl is being
whipped. The man who holds my leash seems
to start to melt a bit. He allows me to
sit while we watch the wipping and I
finish sipping my glass of wine.
At a certain point,
during the whipping of the girl, my
Master and the other man starts to
discuss together. Then they order me to
go back to sit at the other end of the
room.
A few minutes later, my new found
master comes back and sit beside me on the coach. He keeps
fondling me with both of his hands. He takes off my blouse
from inside my skirt and inserts his hands to caress both of
my nipples. The rings pierced into them do not seem to bother him at all.
He gives me hot kisses while he puts a
hand inside my skirt to caress my sex and
to fondle the edge of my anus. I just cannot refrain
from growling. That guy knows what to do
with the kind of girl I am. While he uses
his hands all over me, he approches my
ears and says: "I just want to f**k
you".
At this very moment,
my Master comes back and the man goes
away pretty fast. I must tell everything
that happened to me to my Master while he
was away. As I tell him my story, he does
not seem very happy.
As soon as I finish,
he immediately goes back to discuss with
the other man and, when he returns, he
orders me to not let that man touch me
again. I feel a bit dissapointed but I
cannot let this feeling absord me for
long since my Master grabs my leash and
leads me promptly towards the cross, at
the other end of the room. The break my
feet had during the time the man was
caressing me did not last long enough.
Walking on my stillettos brings back pain
as intense as walking on tornbushes.
When we arrive close
to the rack, a man is already being
whipped by Pénélope, the barmaid.
Without letting me any time to realise what is
happenning to me, my
Master ties me up to the cross, right in
front of the man being whipped. As soon
as I am tightly bond, my Master raises
the hem of my skirt to my waist. So high
that below my waist nothing is left to
the imagination of the other people in
the room. I feel so humiliated. I just
cannot believe my Master can do
something like that to me in public.
He then let me on display for
everybody to see and goes on the other side of the cross to
watch the guy being whipped by Pénélope, the
transvestite/barmaid. I am under the impression that he
bonded me to the rack to humiliate and to punish me because
I told him I enjoyed the caresses of the man.
A few minutes later,
Pénélope comes to my
side and starts to caress my buns with
her whip. Then she starts to hit me
faster. Even some of her hits are
viciously applied between my thighs. I
cannot refrain from crying. She is so
sadistic.
When she stops her
whipping momentarily, my Master reaches
between the two crosses and, with a great
smile, tells me: "You must be
happy to be tortured by such a beautiful
transvestite?".
The thought that
crying so loudly turn him on does not
compensate for the fury which starts to raise
inside of me. Pénélope hits me so hard
and, tied the way I am does not let me
any freedom to try to protect myself.
Moreover, the fact this is not my Master who makes me
endure pain makes me more furious.
During that time, all my efforts to
take off my heels from the little stands have been
unsuccesfull. I, then, cannot get any kind of relief and
diminish the pain on the balls of my feet.
Pénélope is back
again and she hits me harder and more
viciously.
Half an hour later,
my Master comes back and tries to untie
me. I do not know if he does that
purposedly but he seems to make me
believe that he has some difficulties to
undo the leather straps. When I finally
regain my freedom, he motions to me that
we are leaving the club.
My trip back to the
car is a hell of a walk. But, as soon as
I can sit and start to relax, I feel so
excited that I cannot refrain to lift the
hem of my skirt up on my thighs and, even
while driving, I start to caress myself.
As soon as I arrive home, I finally am
able to let myself feel a very big orgasm
just before I untie the straps of my
sandals.
To sum it all, I
spent an unforgetable evening. My Master
gave me many oportunities to experience
new adventures. As a premium, on many
occasions, during the night, he told me
he was proud of me. I am also proud to
have received a compliment, about my
sandals, by a beautiful lady.
Among the new adventures I have
been able to experiment, I will certainly remember for a
long time to have been "given" to a stranger.
Also, before that evening, I would never have believed that I could stand a public
whipping, like the one I endured, while I
was maintained in a state of nudity more
humiliating than naked.
But, I think the
most challenging experiences happenned at
the beginning of the evening when I had
to walk on my stillettos, for almost two
blocks, on a very busy street, wearing
spiked leather collar and leather cuffs
attached to my wrists and ankles. On that
occasion, not only was I bringing
attention to myself with my unusual high
heels but also with the hardware linked
to my ankles which made such a rattle.
If someday, I am invited again to
that kind of fetish party, you can be sure I will not wear
the same sandals and I will do everything I can to wear a
blouse with a higher collar and a longer skirt which will be
less tight on my body.
