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Chapter 20 - Bondage Babes
Mistress Gretchen in her dual role of nude photographer/meat keeper was happy to be introduced to young Kyla.
"Hi! I'm Gretchen! I guess our job is to make sure that the Sheik gets his money's worth of nude, sexually sophisticated pictures. He's paying you a lot, so he expects a lot from you!"
Gretchen pretended to wipe sweat from her brow.
"Whew! No pressure there!"
Kyla nodded uneasily. It was a huge sum in diamonds, but the smug teenage beauty queen was certain that she was worth every carat. Gretchen worked to get true commitment from the na?ve young beauty.
"It's not too late to back out. The Sheik demands sophisticated and very explicit sexuality from his women. He's looking for a lot more than is involved in putting out for the captain of the high school football team in the back seat of a Chevy."
Disconcerted, Kyla laughed uncertainly. Mistaking the source of this information, she wondered how much her mother had blabbed about her.
"I see a certain someone's told you about Buck. As I told him to his face, guys like him are just practise. I can do a lot more."
She did her best to look sophisticated and knowing.
"Um, every man's a bit different. What sort of things does the Sheik like?"
Since Kyla seemed to be hooked, Gretchen began to reel in her fish.
"The standard things: the trampy schoolgirl, the naughty nurse, the 'respectable' businesswoman, leather bitch with boots and whip, the damsel-in-distress¡ that sort of thing. I can guide you through it. I just want to be sure you are willing to do what it takes."
Kyla nodded decisively.
"I can do all that. No problem."
Gretchen looked at her earnestly.
"We're talking adult sexuality, Kyla, so you do understand that there will be penetration with dildoes and butt plugs, playing with sex toys, that kind of thing. I mean everything will be warm and lubricated, so it won't be uncomfortable. I just want to make sure that you know what you're getting into and can handle it."
Kyla nodded decisively and a bit impatiently. She was tired of being treated like an ignorant teenager.
"I can handle it. Trust me. I've been penetrated before! Lots of times!"
They laughed together. Gretchen apologized.
"Sorry, but I had to be sure that you were sexually mature. Not everybody is."
Kyla was glad to finally be taken seriously as an adult. Gretchen pushed a few folders full of photographs towards Kyla. They were labelled Rude Schoolgirl, Naughty Nurse, Bondage Babes, Damsels in Distress and so on.
"Would you like to see some samples of my work?"
Gretchen was interested to see Kyla go straight for the folder labelled 'whippings'. She picked it up and began to thumb through it. Gretchen gave her some background information.
"In many Muslim countries an unfaithful wife is publicly stoned to death. Sheik Rashid is merciful. He has them whipped in private and quietly returned to their husbands. I have taken some pictures of these 'private' whippings. There is a small audience of officials to ensure justice is done, but it's nothing like the roadside whippings and public executions you see elsewhere."
"How disappointing!"
Gretchen winked slyly, one naughty girl to another.
"Of course the rules are completely different for those running the country. The Sheik and his buddies can do anything with impunity, which is why there is alcohol on the airplane here, and we females aren't exactly covered from head to toe. In some Muslim countries women are fined and publicly whipped for uncovering their ankles or talking to someone who is not their relative! In places like that, they can have their fingers and toes chopped off for painting their nails!"
Kyla's eyes opened wide as she studied the photos. Gretchen provided a helpful commentary.
"There is, however, a certain traditional brutal justice that his people expect. An unfaithful wife is treated with comparative generosity and understanding by Sheik Rashid. Of course, being stripped naked in front of a largely male audience can be a bit stressful! Being hung by her wrists with her legs spread wide and then whipped everywhere from the soles of her feet to her armpits ending with five lashes between the legs is a powerfully educational experience - a real encouragement to marital fidelity!"
Self-centred Kyla gave a dirty snigger, hardly the most sympathetic of females.
"Don't tell mom about this. She's hardly been Little Miss Faithful over the years."
Gretchen looked over Kyla's shoulder at a picture of a dark haired beauty captured mid-scream while the whip cracked cruelly between her widespread legs.
"That woman kept saying that she hadn't cheated. She claimed that her husband had complained about her merely to get her whipped so that she would show him more respect!"
Kyla rolled her eyes and guffawed.
"It looks like complaining didn't get that stupid woman anywhere!"
Gretchen laughed.
"All it did was earn her some extra strokes. Can you guess where the extra strokes were applied?"
Kyla gave a dirty little snigger.
"Between the legs?"
Gretchen gave her a thumbs-up.
"Bingo!"
Kyla snickered.
"I hope she learned her lesson and made her husband a happy man."
Gretchen smiled.
"He probably whispered in her ear that he'd have her whipped again if she didn't, suggesting that maybe they wouldn't be so merciful with a second time offender."
Kyla giggled.
"You're probably right. Remind me not to get married in an Arab country. Imagine having to be a hidden away, good little wife all the time! No fun in that!"
Gretchen gave her a knowing look.
"There's another factor that comes into play in an Arab country."
"What's that?"
"Multiple wives."
Kyla thought about it and then sniggered as the light dawned.
"So maybe he was making an example of one so the rest would fall into line! I mean it makes sense. A whipping like that probably leaves permanent marks. Why ruin the prime pussy?"
Gretchen looked at her significantly.
"Maybe he just married her so he could make an example of her - his 'whipping girl'."
Kyla laughed.
"Wow! What a dumb cunt! Talk of playing her for a complete fool!"
Kyla picked up the folder labelled 'Spankings' and opened it. The first picture was a close-up of the insolent reporter's face as she arched upwards, straining violently against the heavy leather straps of the spanking table, face contorted, screaming into the ring gag that her lipsticked lips were wrapped around. Kyla admired the way her eyes bulged and her nostrils flared.
"I really like the way that you capture the drops of sweat trickling down her flushed face and the drool dribbling down her chin. That's excellent!"
Gretchen laughed.
"She's quite the little actress, isn't she?"
Gretchen laid the bullshit on thick for her enthralled listener.
"She's a TV personality fallen on hard times so she accepts these play paddlings for the Sheik's amusement. She makes it look quite strenuous but there's no long-term damage at all. This TV hussy is utterly shameless when it comes to putting on a winning performance. I think that there's a picture of her actually peeing in her panties later on."
Kyla found the picture near the end of the folder and giggled.
"You know, it seems to me that maybe I've seen her on the news as a 'hard-hitting' reporter."
"It looks like the 'hard-hitting' reporter is being hit hard¡ well, pretending to get hit hard."
Kyla suddenly recognised the contorted, agonised face in the pictures. She laughed in delight.
"She's quite the hypocrite. I remember now. She was doing this whole series of specials on Arab abuses of power and subjection of women. Now she's posing as the Sheik's personal beat-me bitch!"
Gretchen was openly contemptuous.
"It's all about ratings. These well-paid TV people will say and do anything to get ratings and make the big bucks. Surprise! It turns out that ratings aren't everything. She lost her job because her anti-Arab stance didn't please the people who owned her network although it was big with the viewers. Guess who the people who owned her network were?"
Kyla laughed and made the obvious guess.
"Rich Arabs?"
"Bingo! Apparently it never occurred to the dumb bunny to check. She just went for the crowd-pleasing obvious thing. Arabs like diversifying, investing in stuff other than oil. They're not stupid. They know that the oil is not going to last forever."
Kyla shuffled through the glossy photos of the brutal paddling.
"Wow! These look real. Look at the way her bare bum gets a darker and darker red, almost purple, as the spanking progresses. Is that snot dribbling from her nose?"
Gretchen laughed.
"Yes. She's quite the dedicated performer, doing whatever is necessary to make it look real and earn her keep. These TV people are utterly shameless and totally amoral. I wonder how many people she fucked to get her cushy TV job in the first place?"
Kyla smirked.
"I suppose they put some rouge or something on the paddle so that it makes her bum redder and redder with every dainty little feather light stroke."
Gretchen patted her on the back.
"Good guess, but you see what I mean when I say that the Sheik usually prefers older, more sexually sophisticated females. This is the sort of utterly depraved, very realistic performance that he really likes. Do you think that you can do as well?"
Kyla smirked confidently.
"If he likes really hardcore action, do you think I could start off as a leather bitch? I rather fancy myself with spike heeled boots and a whip."
Gretchen nodded.
"The Sheik hires actual painsluts, real live beat-me bitches, women who find pain to be erotic. Maybe you'd like to make one of them scream in a dungeon sequence while the video cameras roll?"
Kyla had only heard of such things. It sounded very adult. She attempted to look totally cool.
"Masochists. I could do that if you tell me how they like to be tortured. As you say, it's a little different from doing Buck in his Chevy."
Gretchen was reassuring.
"Don't worry! I'll have them thinking that you studied with the Gestapo!"
Kyla sniggered.
"Sounds like fun, at least, fun for me!"
Gretchen was reassuring.
"It's fun for the painsluts too. Don't be fooled. They're real little drama queens and love being the centre of attention no matter how hard they scream and holler! I know it sounds strange but they really get off on it!"
Kyla nodded knowledgeably.
"I've heard about stuff like that. I guess it takes all kinds to make a world."
Ilsa favoured Kyla with a Cheshire grin.
"It gets even better. The first pain pig that I supply you to work on will be someone you know."
Kyla was amazed and delighted when she found out who it was.
In another room on the plane, Laura sauntered into the Sheik's presence using her runway model's walk, the 'crossover', one shapely leg crossing over in front of the other. Boobs bouncing and hips pumping, her long sexy legs strode towards the Sheik with brazen impudence. She had on her most seductive smirky-bitch expression and stared intently at the Sheik with smoky eyes as she approached him.
"Laura! You are indeed a vision."
Laura whirled professionally, showing off the revealing leather strap outfit from all angles. She paused dramatically right in front of him. The Sheik gave her bare buns a proprietary squeeze. Laura smiled radiantly and arched her back so that her tits pressed hard against the sole leather strap restraining them.
"Ilsa tells me that you are interested in being my bitch for a month."
He saw her eyes flicker momentarily at the word 'bitch', but was gratified to see her accept it. Money talks most eloquently to those desperate for it. Looking straight into his eyes, lovely Laura slowly, sexily ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. She spoke huskily.
"That's right. I want to be your 'bitch' for a month, to fulfil your wildest desires."
He slipped one hand between her legs from behind, cupping her upper thigh where it met her crotch and fondled her titmeat with the other. Laura looked deep into his eyes, seeming totally enchanted with being handled like a whore. Rashid spelled out the terms of her employment.
"You will be my sex slave for the month and as my personal piece of fuckmeat, you will find that I am a most demanding master. As I put you through your paces, you won't be seeing much of Kyla or Cheryl. I'll arrange for them to take wonderfully educational trips together while you spend the month stripped naked, showing my friends and me the goodies. You'll be spreading your legs, opening your holes, giving blowjobs, participating in obscene utterly depraved sexual performances, being handled like a piece of meat and doing what you're told. I'm a wealthy, arrogant man. I'm used to getting my way. I'm accustomed to commanding the very best. I have a lot of experience in squeezing obscenely intimate performances from beautiful women. Do you have a problem with any of this?"
This was a lot different than she had imagined. Laura was used to being in the driver's seat, making men leap to please her. However, the money was very good and she needed it badly. Her plummeting self-esteem made her ripe for the plucking. Laura had a strong feeling that her looks were fading and her time in the driver's seat was perhaps coming to an end. Being dumped had shaken her badly. Up to that point in time, she had always been the one doing the dumping, callously leaving heartbroken horndogs behind her. If she could handle this job with the Sheik and tough it out, she and her daughters would be set up for life.
Suddenly, Laura wanted to make as many good scores as quickly as possible. Maybe one big score would do it. She realized that she had been stupid to think that she could command a man coming from such a background of wealth and power. Laura had just one small concern.
"How many men do you want me to fuck? I thought it would be only you."
Rashid was reassuring.
"You're right. I don't like sharing. As far as actual fucking goes, you only screw me. However, flaunting your obscenely intimate performances in front of others has its appeal. Do you mind putting on lots of lewd, rude and crude look-but-don't-touch sexual performances while others watch?"
As intended, this sounded like it was right up her cockteasing alley. Making up her mind, Laura smirked.
"Not at all. I can handle it."
The Sheik liked making things clear.
"There is discipline for slaves. You will be spanked."
Laura smiled confidently. Spanking was for children. She had a little variant on Kyla's philosophy.
"You do what you must to get what you want. I want the money. I can handle a spanking."
Rashid was pleased.
"Good! If you put in satisfactory performances, your contract can be renewed and you won't have to worry about money for a long, long time. For the right sort of eager-to-please sex slave there are big financial bonuses."
While her mother was bracing herself for some tough hardcore action, young Kyla was preparing to dive in the deep end.
"I'm glad that this 'pain pig' that I'll be torturing is someone I know! It makes it so much easier because I really want to make that stuck-up cunt scream and whimper!"
Gretchen was warmly supportive.
"Perhaps she behaves as she does to invite abuse."
Kyla snorted.
"There must be a lot of masochists out there if you can spot them by their loser behaviour!"
This was something that Gretchen really believed.
"Truer words were never spoken. From rock concerts with music amplified well beyond the threshold of pain to 'Reality Television', our whole society is geared to exploiting the millions and millions, perhaps billions, of masochistic losers. How many people go to Vegas where they're practically guaranteed to lose? The odds are so bad on some games there that, if you win bigtime, they know that you're cheating! They throw people who pursue winning strategies like card counting out of the casinos. Society's been banking on masochistic losers for a long time. How many people bought those stupid 'pet rocks' back in the 70s or think that lip-syncing Britney is a great singer? 'Hit Me Baby, One More Time!' What could be more blatant?"
They laughed together.
As she dressed for her video debut as a leather bitch, Kyla mentally reviewed Gretchen's helpful hints on making the 'pain pig' scream high and hard. Like her mom, Kyla stripped easily, perfectly comfortable with showing everyone what she had to offer. Proud of her glorious physique, she pranced saucily, bouncing her big bare boobs and pumping her hips lewdly. Gretchen was enthralled.
"You have a superb figure, Kyla! A perfect subject for a photographer."
Kyla parked her naked posterior on the chair, pointed her pretty little toes sexily and, using both hands, pulled on one of the thigh high, spike-heeled, black leather boots.
"I've heard about safe words. What are her safe words to get me to stop? Does she say something like 'red light'? I'm dying to know!"
Gretchen grinned.
"Safe words are for babies. She's a serious 'pain pig'. This is 'no limits' adult play, Kyla. If she can make you stop, then she's really the one in charge. That's not the way it is. You are totally in charge. She will be gagged and bound helplessly for your pleasure. There's no way she can stop whatever you choose to do to her. It's life on the edge for the 'pain pig'. She loves it that way."
Kyla's eyes gleamed.
"Excellent!"
Kyla pointed her perfect little toes and tugged hard to pull on the second boot. Gretchen whispered in Kyla's attentive ear a lewd suggestion on how she should end her session with the pain pig. Kyla stared incredulously.
"That's totally disgusting! You actually have a piece of equipment like that?"
Gretchen dramatically pulled back a cloth covering it.
"Voila!"
Kyla's eyes hardened to a bright shine as she picked it up and inspected it carefully.
"Amazing! I'll use it! That fucking bitch will never expect something like this! She'll never see it coming."
Gretchen poked her playfully in the ribs.
"Although she may see you cumming!"
Kyla laughed and licked her lips eagerly.
"I'm going to love this!"
She wrapped the black leather corset around her waist and positioned it so the top part was pushing up her breasts, not that her luscious melons needed any support. Gretchen laced it up the back snugly as she gave Kyla a few more helpful torture tips.
Kyla grinned. She pulled on fingerless black leather driving gloves and spoke confidently.
"I'm going to make that slut squeal like a scalded pig."
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