A pain slut is taken to the club to "go for the record."
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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“Make sure your makeup and hair are perfect for tonight. We are going for the record.”
That was all the instructions Master had given her when he told her to clean herself for display. They were going to the club, that was obvious. Master was going to do something with her on stage. That also was obvious. But what?
It wasn’t a slave’s place to know what her Master desired, but usually Master gave some sort of hint as to what was going to happen. He might say, “I am going to really warm you ass tonight.” Or perhaps, “You will be dancing without music tonight when I turn on the tens unit.” Such little hints enabled Gloria to prepare herself for what was to come.
Master didn’t call her Gloria. Master called her “slave” or “slut” or “peas.” When he called her peas at the club he would almost always have to explain that it stood for “positively perfect pain slut.” And she was.
As she was growing up, sex was nothing to her. For some reason she didn’t get the pleasure that others talked about. Sometimes there was a feeling of release, but release from what? There was no peak from which to fall screaming as many of her friends claimed they did.
In college she decided that maybe the problem was that she was lesbian. So, she tried sex with a couple of other coeds. Actually she tried sex with a rather large number of other coeds. Still nothing.
Then she slept with the wrong girl. Or, more specifically she slept with the wrong woman’s girlfriend. Gloria and Vicki were in the classic 69 position on the Vicki’s bed when the door to the bedroom slammed open and a woman’s voice screamed out, “I told you what would happen if you brought another of your sluts back to my house.”
Vicki was on top, so when the heavy belt that the woman was swinging slammed down, it landed squarely on Vicki’s ass. In shock, Gloria pulled her face back from Vicki’s delicious cunt, but Vicki yelled, “No, Gloria. Keep going. Keep going.” And so she did.
Then something happened that had never happened before. Hearing Vicki cry out with each loud slap of the belt started a fire in Gloria’s belly. No, it was more than a fire. It was molten lava moving out from between her legs. It was heat and light and hunger- hunger for the belt that was turning Vicki’s ass red and purple.
“Roll over,” she suddenly said, and Vicki answered, “What?”
“I want the belt,” she answered. “I need the belt. Please, roll over!”
Vicki fell to her side and Gloria completed the roll, coming up on top of Vicki with her head still buried between Vicki’s legs. As she did, the belt swished past her head and slapped into the bed.
“So you want some, too,” the unknown woman’s voice said with a sneer, and suddenly Gloria’s ass exploded. The pain was tremendous, but the lava fountain between her legs turned from red-hot to white-hot and began to spread throughout her body. She could feel her body trembling and her head was shaking so hard that she could not continue nuzzling Vicki for fear that she would bite her tongue.
Blow after blow slammed into her now bright red ass. Then the volcano erupted. This wasn’t release, this was explosive ecstasy. She lost control of her body. Her arms were flailing. Her legs were kicking. Her bladder emptied onto Vicki’s face. Then everything faded into a white haze.
When she came to, she found herself lying on her back looking up into the face of Professor Montgomery.., only the professor wasn’t dressed as Gloria had ever seen her in class. She was wearing a tight latex outfit that looked something like a combination of a corset and swimsuit. On her legs were knee-high shiny, black boots. Her hands were encased in matching gloves that came to her elbows.
“Well,” she said with a deep laugh, “that was a first. I’ve never had a girl totally pop her circuits from just a belt and some cunt lapping. I’d love to see what you could do if I warmed you up properly.” She smiled and then asked Gloria, “Do you respond like that every time?”
Gloria looked back at the professor with wide eyes and answered, almost with fear in her voice, “I’ve never done anything like that before. Was that an orgasm?”
The professor and Vicki both began laughing and laughed almost uncontrollably for several minutes. Finally Vicki contained herself enough to say, “You’ve slept with almost every man in this college and a good portion of the women and you don’t know what an orgasm is?”
“No,” answered Gloria meekly. “I’ve never had one before. I’ve tried men. I’ve tried toys. I’ve tried porn. I’ve tried girls. I’ve tried combinations of all of them, but nothing ever really happened. At least, nothing like what happened tonight.”
“Let’s see,” said the professor. “Men didn’t do it. Toys or raunchy stories don’t work for you. Girls aren’t really your flavor. But you explode like Mount Vesuvius when I beat your ass.”
She pointed her finger at Gloria. “You, my honey, are a positively perfect pain slut. It takes pain to trip your trigger.” She smiled and her voice became soft and deep. “And I know just the place to find someone to pop your circuits regularly.”
The professor introduced her to life at the club and gave her the sub name, “peas.” Actually it was Vicki who gave her that name. That first night, while she was still lying spent on the bed, the professor asked herself out loud, “What should we call you, my positively perfect pain slut?”
Vicki had suggested, “P,P,P,S” and the professor responded, “Too many Ps.”
Then she smiled broadly and said, “Yes, that’s it. Peas.” Addressing Gloria directly she continued, “You will love it at the club, my precious little pea.”
Gloria did love it at the club. It was there that she realized that she sort of preferred men, but women or toys or whatever were OK as long as there was pain involved. Pain without a man or a woman or a toy or getting in the proper mood with some really good porn was just pain. But if her body was even slightly sexually stimulated, then the pain wasn’t really pain. It was the road to ecstasy.
Eventually she met Master. He understood her needs. A few of the others that she had allowed to play with her had not. They thought pain alone was her goal. They thought pain was enough, or that she craved pain.
Those were not good experiences. She didn’t yearn for pain. She wasn’t seeking pain. She didn’t crave pain. She craved ecstasy and release, and pain was the path to that paradise of pleasure.
She had accepted Master’s collar more than four years ago. He had helped her finish her studies and had used some of his contacts to secure her a decent job in the community. By day, she was a typical young professional with a career. By night, she was Master’s slave, peas.
Master had never asked her to do anything that was beyond her limits. They had never fully discussed her limits, but Master seemed to understand. They had, however, established a safeword should those limits ever be reached. It was “carrots.”
Master had some background in theatre and had always thought it was funny that if you needed a large crowd murmuring in the background, but didn’t want anything to be understood, they were often instructed to keep softly repeating, “peas and carrots, peas and carrots, peas and carrots.”
“If peas says ‘carrots’ I stop,” he told her. “That is an absolute. It is the only control that you will ever have. Everything else is totally in my hands. But if it gets beyond what you can stand, say ‘carrots’ and it all stops.”
Many Masters and subs also establish a safe gesture for when a slave is gagged, but Master had never gagged her. He liked to hear her cries as she responded to the pain that was her road to pleasure.
Gloria was now almost finished with her preparation. She had given herself several enemas to clean herself out on the inside. She had neatly trimmed the very narrow landing strip above her pussy. All other hair from the neck down had been permanently removed, so the narrow patch was all that had to be tended to.
A long, luxurious, warm bath with scented oils prepared her skin. There were little sparkles in the oil that clung to her skin as she got out of the tub. It made it hell to clean the tub, but even after drying herself, there was a shimmer to her skin.
Her long hair was brushed until it shone and hung in soft, dark curves around her face.
The final step was makeup. A no-smear, almost permanent style of body makeup was used to slightly darken and redden her nipples. Additional glitter was added to the landing strip. Then a very light touch of very expensive makeup turned her face into something worthy of the cover of the highest fashion magazine.
A simple, black, wrap-around dress and high stiletto heels completed her preparation. A second, identical dress was placed in a bag to take with her so she had something to wear home if her dress were cut from her body during their scene.
She was ready. But ready for what? Normally they arrived at the club around eight or nine o’clock. Tonight, the Master had said they would not be leaving the house until ten thirty. It would be after eleven when they arrived.
At ten fifteen, Master called up the stairway. “Are you ready?”
“Just one more minute,” she replied. She was sitting there absolutely ready to go, but this was her little way of maintaining a bit of control up to the point where she knew that she would be totally surrendering herself to Master. Five minutes later she came down the steps.
She smiled in happiness when Master said, “Perfect!”
They arrived at the club exactly at eleven, but Master did enter through the front door. Instead, he walked Gloria down the alley alongside the club and knocked on a door labeled “Deliveries.”
Gloria was surprised when the owner of the club, himself, opened the door. “Is everything ready?” asked Master.
“Everything goes live exactly at midnight. Do you think we can break the record?”
“I have total confidence in peas.” Master responded.
Gloria didn’t have quite so much confidence in herself, especially since she had no idea what was going to happen.
“Come with me,” the owner said and lead them through a back hallway onto the stage. The curtains were closed, and only work lights lit the area. Two leather ankle restraints were attached widely apart to the stage floor by short chains. Two wrist restraints hung from chains above them. Cables supporting the chains disappeared into the darkness above the stage.
“Leave your shoes and dress here,” instructed Master. He didn’t have to tell her where she was supposed to go once she was naked. She folded her dress carefully and laid it on a small desk. Then she placed her shoes and extra dress alongside it and walked out into the center of the stage.
Peas-she was no longer Gloria, now that the scene was beginning, she was peas, positively perfect pain slut. Peas could feel herself beginning to get wet in anticipation of what was to come. She still wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but whatever it was, it was starting.
She spread her legs so that the restraints could be wrapped around her ankles and lifted her arms above her head for the wrist restraints. After her ankles and wrists were firmly bound, she heard a clanking noise as someone cranked the cables up to pull her almost onto her tip toes.
Master came out and stood directly in front of her. He was holding a strange looking double dildo with wires trailing down from it. It was slightly U shaped with a larger and smaller device at each end of the U. A tube of some sort also trailed down from the smaller end of the U.
“First we need to get you prepped and ready,” he said as he reached down and slid his fingers through her slit. “Wet, good,” he said. “But I think we need a little lube in the back.”
He squirted some gel onto his fingers and began rubbing it between her legs. He squirted more gel onto his hand and worked it up into her cunt and then moved back to slide one, and then two fingers into her ass.
She moaned slightly. It felt good but her body was already starting to feel the hunger for more.
Master said, “Relax,” and positioned the U between her legs, pushing it upward into both holes. With the stretching and lubrication, it slid easily in place. “The back will hold the front in place,” he said. “And this will hold the back in place.”
He squeezed something in his hand and peas felt the anal dildo expand. He squeezed the pump two or three more times and said, “It has to be tight, but not so big that it causes pain.” He laughed. “I’m not worried so much about hurting you and causing you pain as I am about getting you too high too soon. It all has to be properly timed if we are going to set the record.”
A group of stage hands came out and began carefully laying thin rope across the stage. The ropes seemed to be hanging from high above the stage and came down just behind the curtain. A heavy iron bar, like would normally hold scenery, kept them in place close to the top of the curtain. As the stage hands worked their way closer to her, peas could see that there was something attached to the rope at regular intervals. Whatever it was, there were hundreds of them, possibly thousands.
Master held something up in front of her face. It was a wooden clothes pin. He clicked it open and closed a few times and then said, “The record for the most clothes pins stuck on a human face is one hundred and something. But there is no record for the most on the whole body. Tonight, we are going to set that record. And we are trying for a nice, large, round number... two thousand.”
He pointed to the ropes lying on the ground. “There are 250 pins on each of these eight ropes. Four people at a time will work to attach them, starting from the top down. If everything goes as planned, it should take less than five minutes to attach everything.”
He stroked her face and smiled. “Then we are going to set a second record. The longest time that a person had been able to stand two thousand clothes pins clipped to their body. Again we are establishing this record, so we thought we should go with a good number. I wanted to go for an hour, but a couple of the doctors who are members here said that could cause permanent damage. They wanted to limit it to ten minutes.” He smiled and put the clothes pin in his pocket. “We compromised at twenty.”
He tweaked her nipple. Then he held up a remote and pressed a button. The dildo in her ass and in her cunt began to vibrate softly. The one in front also began to wiggle just a little bit. She moaned slightly.
“You,” Master began, “will have control over how long the pins stay on your body. You will have a dead-man’s switch in your hand. As long as you hold on to that switch, the clothes pins stay on your body. And as soon you as release that switch, the clothes pins come off, and you may cum.”
He held her face in his hand so that they were looking directly into each other’s eyes, “But, my little pea,” he continued, “if you do not make the full twenty minutes, I absolutely forbid you to cum.”
Peas eyes opened wide. Forbidding her to cum was Master’s absolute worst punishment. On those few occasions when she had greatly displeased him, he had taken her to the heights of pleasure with pain and sexual stimulation, but then had forbidden her to cum. Before she had discovered that she was a pain slut, she had endured release without the heights of passion, but that was nothing compared to being taken to those heights and left quivering in that state of absolute need for release.
He placed a metal object in her hand. “Remember,” he said, “twenty minutes from the time the last clothes pin goes on your body. There will be a large timer on stage right that you and the audience can see. If you let go of the switch before that timer reaches zero, you MUST NOT CUM.
Peas eyes filled with tears. She wanted to beg, but wasn’t sure what to say. Those few times when he had refused to let her cum, she had cried and wept and screamed and begged until he had finally relented. Surely he wouldn’t do that to her in public. Surely he wouldn’t leave her screaming out her need naked on stage. Surely he wouldn’t do that! And yet, that is exactly what he threatened if she did not endure the clothes pins for twenty minutes.
She knew what clothes pins felt like. After she discovered her pain slut nature, she had on several occasions clipped as many as she could find to her breasts and nipples and even between her legs and then taken herself high with one of her powerful vibrators. Master had even used clothes pins on her a couple of times when they played. But the most she could remember ever using was less than a hundred.
The lights began to brighten on stage and she could hear the owner of the club in front of the curtain talking to the crowd. It must be almost time.
Then she saw the curtains start to open and felt the vibration and movement of the dildos within her increase in intensity. Master was making sure she was ready for what was about to happen.
Four naked women ran onto the stage. That surprised peas. She had been expecting Masters, not slaves, but then she realized that Masters would not have the time, or desire, to train for such an event. The slaves hands seem to fly as peas felt the dull pain of wood closing in on her face and arms and breasts and nipples. It felt almost as if she were being eaten alive by four small beasts that were crawling quickly downward across her body.
Suddenly there was a flurry of movement and the four naked slaves ran off stage to be replaced immediately by four new women who continued the task of clipping the wooden pinchers on her body. The beasts that were devouring her reached her ankles and started back up on the inside of her legs. She whimpered slightly as she realized on what all four beasts were closing in.
It happened so fast there was no time for separate screams. Several pins closed tightly on her labia, two or three more grabbed the soft folds at the edge of her cunt. The final clip bit down directly on her clitoris.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to scream “Carrots,” but what good would it do? All of the pins were now in place. She, herself, held the switch that would cause them to be removed. But if she released that switch, she would not be allowed to cum tonight. So instead, she concentrated on the huge numbered display which had suddenly lit up at the edge of the stage. It had begun at 20:00 and was counting down the seconds toward her release.
The pain was beginning to fade slightly now, especially since Master must have again stepped up the vibration and motion between her legs. She heard a clank and the tension in her arms increased. They must have tightened the chains which held her arms.
She could feel the rivulets of sweat which were trickling down her body. It felt strange to feel the warm liquid wind its way down through the forest of pins which tightly gripped her flesh.
10:00 minutes on the timer. She could make this. She had endured too much to give up now. Besides, pleasure was starting to catch up with the pain. The lava was starting to heat up in her groin. Her body was starting to thrust and sway all on its own. The pain had never gotten ahead of her before with anything the Master had done. The pleasure had always increased with the pain and turned the pain into sexual stimulation.
06:00 minutes. Peas was groaning aloud now. Now her worry was not that she would not be able to endure the twenty minutes of pain, but rather that she would orgasm before the timer reached zero.
03:00 minutes. Peas was screaming a high pitched warbling scream. “Please,” she cried out, “Please Master, please let me cum!” The only response was the devices between her legs going to maximum in their vibration and movement.
01:00 minute. Peas was grunting, groaning and screaming all at the same time as she attempted to hold back the white-hot flow of lava that threatened to overwhelm her body. Then she could hear the audience chanting together, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!”
She dropped the switch from her hand and heard a whirring sound. Two heavy sandbags were descending rapidly from high above the stage. As they dropped, the thin ropes rose even more rapidly until they were pulled tight. Suddenly the clothes pins began to be ripped from her body. Again there was no time for individual screams as two thousand clips were pulled almost at the same time from her body. The last clip to be pulled free was the one on her clit.
The true pain of clothes pins is not when they are applied, it is when they are removed. Very few people would have been able to withstand the pulse of pain which releasing two thousand clothes pins all at once sent through her body. But peas was a positively perfect pain slut who had been taken to near the peak of sexual excitement before that pulse of pain.
The volcano did not erupt, it exploded. Peas shook and quaked. By her own strength, pulling her arms toward her body, she raised herself off the floor of the stage so that her feet were in danger of pulling free from the ankle restraints. She screamed and writhed and twisted, hanging sweaty and naked in her chains. And then the white-hot flow of lava overwhelmed her. The white cloud filled her brain and she dropped to hang totally limp from her wrists.
Master was standing by her bed when she regained consciousness. “Gloria,” he said. He would occasionally address her as Gloria after a scene to help her come back out. “Gloria, we set four records tonight.”
He sat down on a chair next to the bed. “We were only trying for three... the most clips, the longest on, and the fastest off. I didn’t tell you in advance about that third one because everyone was worried that you wouldn’t be able to endure it. I had faith in my peas, though, and knew that if you were properly prepared you would have no trouble at all.”
“What was the fourth record,” she asked weakly.
“We were streaming live tonight,” he explained. “And in the opinion of thousands of people who made comments, tonight was the greatest orgasm ever recorded. It may very well have been. And I think that is one record that will be very hard to break.”
“We can always try,” she answered with a smile. “You never know what is going to happen when you go for the record.”