SaM’s Place – Chapter 03 of 15 Dinner and a Show
Introduction:
Evelyn is invited to join a very exclusive club, but she must first be interviewed by the admissions committee and explain why she deserves to be a part of SaM’s very exclusive club. The series begins with her first night at the club and then progresses through the stories she tells the committee to prove she is worthy to become a permanent part of SaM’s Club. The stories are better understood if you have read the previous chapters, but each chapter stands more or less on its own. In Chapter Three, Evelyn begins her meal at this very special S&M club.
Chapter Three – Dinner and a Show
By The Technician
BDSM, Bondage, Whips, M/F
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Evelyn is invited to join a very exclusive club, but she must first be interviewed by the admissions committee and explain why she deserves to be a part of SaM’s very exclusive club. The series begins with her first night at the club and then progresses through the stories she tells the committee to prove she is worthy to become a permanent part of SaM’s Club.
The stories are better understood if you have read the previous chapters, but each chapter stands more or less on its own.
In Chapter Three, Evelyn begins her meal at this very special S&M club.
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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.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2009 by The Technician [email protected].
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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As Evelyn seated herself at the table, the waitress moved to the opposite side of the table and sank down on one knee. Her hands were held out stiffly behind her as though someone were holding her wrists. Her head was deeply bowed as she spoke, “Number one-fifty-seven begs your mistress’s permission to serve her this evening. The menu is displayed on the small monitor on your table. You may order by touching the screen where it says order or by speaking to your worthless servant. The other small box on the table is a judgement box. If by some accident of total grace you decide that I have pleased you, please press the green button labeled ‘Acceptable.’ If my actions are not worthy of your notice or appraisal, please press the black button labeled ‘Ignore.’ If I displease you in any way and you feel that I should be punished, please press the red button labeled, ‘Not Acceptable.’ Any slave who receives a total of five Not Acceptable ratings in an evening will be publicly punished for the entertainment of the masters and mistresses present. You may address me by my number, ‘157,’ or by my slave name, ‘Gloria,’ or just as ‘slave.’ Do you wish something to drink while you browse the menu?”
Evelyn smiled at the waitress’ groveling form and replied, “Yes dear, I will have a glass of white wine, slightly chilled. Make it something acceptable.”
The waitress responded, “Please remember to rate your lowly servant’s performance of her duties,” and scurried off into the darkness of the surrounding club. Evelyn noted that the mechanism which held her had somehow released cable to allow the waitress to kneel before her, but had again tightened to travel along above her after she stood and turned to leave. She wondered if this was all computer controlled or if there were some master control board where someone watched every move the servers made and controlled their electronic leashes from afar.
She watched the waitress’s ass cheeks twist and bounce as she walked toward the bar at the far side of the club, her stiletto high heels clicking against the floor with each step. As her naked form blurred in the distant dimness, Evelyn turned her attention to the small metal box with three buttons. Her fingers at first rested upon the green “Acceptable” button, but then moved quickly to the red “Not Acceptable.” She paused a minute and sighed slightly. The waitress, after all, had done nothing wrong, and even though Evelyn could easily imagine herself punishing this docile slave, she felt that it was wrong to cause her to be punished for no reason. Her fingers moved to the black “Ignore,” button. As she pushed it she whispered, “Oh, my dear Gloria, we will find reason for the red button before the night is over, won’t we?”
Evelyn then turned her attention to the menu. It took only a moment to scan the listed items. She was not particularly adventurous when it came to food. She knew she would be ordering steak. The only question was what kind. It would have been very easy to press the “Order This” button on the screen. The instructions said that further options would be listed when she made her selection. In any other setting, she would have been tempted to see how this electronic ordering system worked, but there was no thrill in telling a machine what to do. A machine had no feelings. A machine could not hear the haughty iciness of superiority that only a mistress could convey to a slave. No, Evelyn would wait to give her order verbally to #157.
Gloria – 157 returned moments later with a tray holding a single glass of white wine. “Has mistress made a decision? Or do you desire that I leave your presence and return shortly?”
“I will have number eleven, rare, with the salad… Balsam vinegar dressing.” As the waitress bowed deeply to her, Evelyn picked up her wine and took a sip. “I said slightly chilled, not COLD, you cow. Take this back and bring me wine at the proper temperature.” As she spoke she dramatically punched the red “Not Acceptable” button.
The waitresses head flew upward, her eyes wide with fear. “I am sorry mistress. Your humble slave begs your forgiveness. Please allow me to try again to serve your properly.” She quickly grabbed the glass from the table and holding the glass in one hand and the tray in the other clicked her way swiftly back to the bar.
Evelyn smiled as she again watched 157’s ass cheeks twitch as she walked. “I wonder how those cheeks would twitch under the strap or a cane,” she murmured to herself. Suddenly the image of the waitress tied down across a spanking bench came into her mind. She could see herself standing above the Gloria’s bound form, a flogger in her hand, listening to the screams of pain. “Oh, I am going to need that wine by the time you gets back,” she said softly.
157 returned moments later. Somehow the waitress managed not to click so loudly with her heels as she approached as when she left. Evelyn noted the difference in her walk. As she approached, she walked normally, or as normally as one could wearing 6″ heels. But as she left, she had used a model’s walk. Each foot was placed directly in line in front of her. This catwalk way of walking accented the curvature of the leg as well as exaggerated the sway of the hips. “Did you think I would not notice that you did not walk properly as you approached me?”
Gloria’s eyes widened in fear. “I am sorry, mistress. I was hurrying with your wine.”
Evelyn’s hand hovered above the judgement box. As 157 set the wineglass on the table, she pressed the red “Not Acceptable” button. Her hand remained over the buttons as she picked up the wine and brought it too her lips. 157 watched in fear as Evelyn took a sip and then slowly moved her finger from the red to the green button. As she pressed the black “Ignore” button she said coldly, “At least you got the temperature of the wine right, my dear. See that you get my food order correct and I just might rate you as acceptable.”
157 bowed slightly, turned and clicked her way into the darkness. Evelyn smiled a very cold smile as she again watched the twitching buttocks and listened to the click of heels on the hard floor. She then turned her attention to the floor show at the other end of the club. Except for the fact that the piano player was chained to his piano and was sitting on a very strange looking piano stool, and the fact that the singer was naked except for nipple weights and a crotch chain, it was a rather ordinary lounge act.
The singing wasn’t exceptionally good, but it wasn’t exceptionally bad. Evelyn looked a little more carefully at the piano player and noted that what appeared to be a strange looking piano stool was, in fact, a metal disk not much bigger than a dinner plate. A glint of metal as the piano player turned slightly brought another cold smile to Evelyn’s face as she realized that there was a metal projection, perhaps a dildo, impaling the piano player’s ass. She couldn’t help thinking to herself, “I wonder if the stool goes with him when he takes a break? Or maybe, since he is chained to the piano, he is forced to remain there all night without a break.”
Almost as if the club had read her mind, the stage on which the piano and singer were located began to rotate. As it revolved, the piano player and singer were replaced by five naked young women and a very highly muscled young man who was wearing a pair of very tight, black leather shorts. “For your entertainment,” an unknown voice intoned over the speakers, “we present the whipping skills of Master Andrew and his stable.”
With that the house lights dimmed except for a spotlight on Master Andrew. The young man cracked his whip into the air and yelled, “To your positions.” The five naked young women ran into the spotlight. Each was holding two burning candles. They stood in a circle around Master Andrew and held their arms outstretched with the candles in the air at shoulder level. The whip cracked and a candle went out. Then, as Andrew spun and lashed out with his whip, – crack, crack, crack, crack – the candles were snapped out one by one… except one. The slave with the strawberry blond hair had flinched as the whip cracked and lowered the candle slightly.
The smattering of applause died away as Master Andrew gestured to the other slaves to move aside. His stare was icy and his voice was even colder as he addressed the quivering young girl, “You have disgraced me in public by your actions. Stand still and receive your punishment.” The girl whimpered but remained standing with her arms held out wide, the candles still in her hands.
“But first let me complete my task,” – crack – and the final candle extinguished. “You don’t need those anymore, ” crack, crack and the candles flew from the girls hands. “Turn and form the whipping cross.”
“No, please,” the young slave begged, but the response from Master Andrew was a slash of the whip that obviously curled around the girl and struck her on the ass cheek.
“Now,” he said, but again she begged, “No, please, not in public, not here!”
“I said now!” and the whip snapped again around her. She bent slightly in pain and then slowly turned her back to him, spreading her legs and holding her arms outstretched and spread as though she were tied between two posts.
“For ruining my performance!” – crack, crack, the whip found its mark on the slaves ass cheeks causing her to jump slightly with each impact.
“For talking back to me!” – crack, crack and the girl yelped as the whip curled around her body and struck her breasts. This second yelp was much louder than the first as the tip of the lash evidently found its target and snapped directly upon her nipple.
“And finally for disobeying my order to assume the punishment position!” The whip cracked a final time. “Iiieeee,” the girl screamed in pain and fell to the floor, her hands covering her cunt. “Stand, or the punishment will be repeated.” The girl slowly got back to her feet. There was a smear of blood on her hands. The whip had snapped between her legs and cut into her in her most tender area.
“Let us see if you can keep from flinching this time. If you flinch this time, you might lose more than a little blood. Prepare her!.”
Master Andrew’s other slaves came scurrying back into the spotlight. Two held the first girl’s hands out in a cross shape and began clipping wooden clothes pins onto the tips of her fingers. When they had placed four on each hand, a third slave clipped two on her nose – one between the eyes and one on the tip of the nose. Then pulling her tongue out of her mouth she placed two clothes pins on it. A fourth slave stepped forward. Whatever it was in her hands was silvery and glinted in the light. The girl grunted as the nipple clamps were set in place. The clamps had a protrusion which stuck out about two inches. From the tip of the protrusion hung a tiny silver bell. A final slave then stepped forward. She held something aloft for the audience to see. It looked like the nipple clamps but was much wider. It looked almost like a smaller version of one of those clips which is used to seal a bag of chips to keep it fresh. Reaching down between the girl’s legs, the slave set the clip in place. The girl moaned loudly. She tried to say something, but the clothes pins on her tongue prevented speech.
“Display yourself,” barked Master Andrew. The girl slowly turned around so everyone could see her clearly. It became apparent that the final clip was clamped firmly on her labia.
“Now stand perfectly still.” There was a drum roll and the whip cracked four times. The clothes pins flew from her left hand. Four more cracks and the pins were gone from her right hand. Master Andrew moved slowly around the edge of the stage area. He drew back his whip and with a loud snap the pin between her eyes was gone. Another snap and the pin on the end of her nose flew into the darkness. Then with a single snap the two clothes pins on her tongue were also gone.
“It’s time for a little music,” laughed Master Andrew. His whip lashed out, but it did not have it’s normal loud crack. Instead, it was a much softer pop, and above the sound of the whip, you could hear the clear chime of a small bell. The whip flashed again and again as the bells on the nipple clamps and the labia clamp chimed their tune.
The audience applauded loudly. Master Andrew bowed deeply and then stood upright and suddenly made three quick snaps with his whip. This time the bells could not be heard over the crack of the whip, and the clamps flew into the darkness. What could be heard, however, was the girl’s screams as the clamps were torn loose from her nipples and her labia.
Master Andrew bowed once more, the spotlight went dark, and the house lights came up to their normal level of muted dimness. As the Evelyn’s eyes were once again able to see her surroundings, she noticed that 157 was standing beside her. The thought crossed Evelyn’s mind that it must have been difficult to move about in the darkness during Master Andrew’s performance, but then she remembered the track system. It didn’t make any difference whether or not 157 could see anything. She would have been guided or at least dragged along the proper path by her hair as the motorized leash moved from place to place.
Evelyn tasted her salad and dropped her fork onto the table. “This is not Balsam vinegar dressing. This is ordinary oil and vinegar. Did you think that I would not know the difference? Take it back.”
Evelyn’s finger poised above the “Not Acceptable” button. Gloria, 157, spoke, “Please Mistress, do not rank me unacceptable. I have already received three tonight. If I receive five, I will be punished.”
“Is that so?” replied Evelyn. In that case, I will do this. I will rate you as “Not Acceptable” for bringing me the wrong salad. 157 hung her head. “And, I will rate you as “Not Acceptable” for not properly receiving and accepting the judgement of your superiors.”
With that, Evelyn pressed the “Not Acceptable” button a second time. 157 began to cry, “No, no, no, no,” but her cries were quickly drowned out by the sudden blaring of trumpets and flashing of red, blue and yellow rotating beacons.
“Masters and Mistresses,” came the voice from the speakers. “We have a public punishment which needs to be meted out. There will be a slight delay in your service. Please pardon this interruption. We hope the inconvenience of this delay will be offset by the spectacle of SaM’s Place’s unique progressive paddle punishment.”
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Chapter Four – A Punishment and a Demotion
By The Technician
BDSM – Spanking – Electroshock MMMFFF/MMMFFF
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Evelyn is invited to join a very exclusive club, but she must first be interviewed by the admissions committee and explain why she deserves to be a part of SaM’s very exclusive club. The series begins with her first night at the club and then progresses through the stories she tells the committee to prove she is worthy to become a permanent part of SaM’s Club.
The stories are better understood if you have read the previous chapters, but each chapter stands more or less on its own.
In Chapter Four, Evelyn watches the unique method of punishment used at SaM’s club. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
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.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2009 by The Technician [email protected].
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Two of the serving slaves were brought forward by the simple process of the rail system dragging them forward by their hair. One, a male, was positioned in front of a pillory like device. The other, a woman, was positioned a few feet behind him. The pillory had the typical half circle for the hands and head, but there was no upper piece that clamped the arms and head in place. Instead there were two metal rods, somewhat like bicycle handles that were positioned so that the slave could grasp them with his hands. He placed his head and hands in the stocks and grasped the handles. When he did so, a green light came on within the column of the pillory.
A large clock face descended from the darkness of the ceiling area as the voice from the speaker explained. “Slave 142, as the slave who has gone the longest without punishment, has won the right to be first punisher. She will have 30 seconds to deliver five swats. They must not be less that 7 or more than 10 on SaM’s Place Scale of Punishment. Swats cannot be delivered less than 4 seconds apart nor more than 6 seconds. Failure to deliver the punishment within the prescribed range means that the punisher goes to the end of the line, something none of these slaves wants to do, especially Slave 142, since her position keeps her our of the stocks tonight..”
Evelyn wondered exactly what SaM’s Place Scale of Punishment was, but then a second disk descended from the ceiling. It resembled the tacheometer in Evelyn’s car, except it went from zero to two hundred. The female slave picked up a paddle that looked like many other spanking paddles except that it had a small cord leading out of the tip of the handle. She swung the paddle and it connected with the male slave’s ass with a resounding smack. The punishment meter read twelve and the announcer exclaimed, “Oh, that is outside the specified range. Slave 142 can have only two of the five outside the range or she goes to the end of the line.”
It was not apparent whether the slave could hear the announcer or not, but she delivered four more swats with the paddle with a measured pace. The meter read 9 for each of them. “A nice recovery,” came the voice from the speakers. “All within range and all within time. Our increment for tonight is 2, so the range is now 9 to 12.” As the voice spoke, the male slave left the pillory and took the place of the female slave who had been the punisher. She was led off into the darkness and another female slave, a black female, was brought up to the stocks. Once she had grasped the metal rods, the green light came on the male slave swung the paddle.
Evelyn watched the black globes of the slave’s ass compress and bounce with each slam of the paddle. “A pity that redness doesn’t show on such black skin,” she said quietly to herself. Two of the swats registered 12, one registered 9 and the other two registered 11.
“Not very consistent,” commented the voice from the speakers, “but all within range. The range is now 11 to 14.”
The male slave was led off and another female slave was brought up to the stocks. The black slave was guided into place as the punisher. Smack…. smack…. smack…. smack…. smack…. Each of the five times, the meter read 14.
“Now that is proper paddling,” the announcer said, “Number 287 really knows how to use that paddle.”
Evelyn watched closely as the black slave turned as was led into the darkness. She looked so familiar to her. Almost like someone she knew from her college days, but she couldn’t place the face…, and why would she know a slave?
The cycle continued with slave after slave, each taking their place on the pillory and then as punisher as the required punishment number climbed higher and higher. Almost all of the slaves had cycled through and the punishment range had reached 93 through 96 when on the third blow of the paddle, the slave at the pillory let go of the rods and jerked into a standing position. The green light on the pillory post turned red and a siren sounded. “We have a position fault. Those of you in the position fault pool please hold your cards. This is slave 381 on strike three at an punishment level of 95. If anyone has that combination in the pool, please push your server call button at this time.”
There was silence for a few minutes and then the voice from the speakers continued. “It appears no one had the winning combination, but we are all still winners as we watch the special punishment for any slave audacious enough to move from the punishment position. If slave 203 will temporarily step out of the way, a couple of masters will handle this punishment.”
With that the rail mechanism moved the slave with the paddle a few feet backwards. A hooded man and woman, both dressed in tight fitting leather shorts stepped into the spotlight. She took the paddle while he moved over to the pillory. The slave bent over the pillory was whimpering and loudly begging, “No, no, it was an accident. I will never do it again. Please, don’t do this to me!”
The master held the slave’s arm down on the pillory and there was a loud click. A manacle of some sort had slid out of the pillory and firmly held the slave’s arms in place. This was repeated with the other arm and the neck so that the slave was held firmly in place. Then the master took two lengths of leather and wrapped them around the slave’s hands so that they were bound to the metal rods.
“All is in place,” he announced as he stepped away from the pillory. “Roll the dice.”
A small cage descended from the ceiling. It contained a pair of dice. The cage turned over once and the dice rolled into a three and a two.
The announcer from the speakers again spoke. “We have a electro-punishment number of five. That is survivable, but it is going to hurt.”
The female master swung the paddle. Her stroke was firm and solid, but unlike most paddle strikes, she paused the paddle against the slave’s ass when she delivered the blow. He screamed as the paddle hit, but then continued to scream and shake as a measured amount of electricity flowed through the paddle into his body.
“One,” the female master said just loud enough for the crowd to hear. She repeated her actions nine more times. After she said “Ten,” she walked over to where the punisher was standing and handed the paddle back to the punishment slave. “I believe you have two more swats to deliver. The range is 93 through 96.
The blows were delivered quickly and the punished slave took her place as punisher. Three more slaves repeated the process until Gloria, #157, Evelyn’s waitress was brought forward. She took her position on the pillory, and with a loud click, the manacles locked into place.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, your servers will be returning to you shortly. As soon as each one of them has had the opportunity to express their anger at this worthless slave who caused all this by her unacceptable behavior, they will be directed back to your tables for your every whim. This is open range paddling with any degree of strike allowed. The electro-punishment is set on random. It may or may not engage on any given swing. Slaves, you have five swings each. Make good use of them.”
With that, the slaves were lined up behind the punisher who was now holding the paddle. They were in the same order as when they, themselves, had occupied the pillory. The first began to strike out with the paddle. On the fourth swing, #157 screamed loudly and thrashed against the restraints. Evidently the random electro-punishment had kicked in for that swing.
Evelyn sipped her drink and savored #157’s screams of pain. Yes, indeed, SaM’s Place was her kind of place. Eventually all of the slaves had their chance to vent their anger on Gloria’s ass. The lights up front dimmed slightly and the room lights returned to normal. Then the soft background music began once again and Gloria was suddenly returned to the table. She was obviously shaken by the punishment and trembled slightly as she stood before Evelyn. “What may your humble slave do for my exalted Mistress?” she asked.
“You can complete my order for dinner, you stupid cow,” replied Evelyn.
Gloria’s face went blank with an expression that was somewhere between pain and surprise. “Please forgive your useless slave, my Mistress, but would you please repeat your order for me so that I may properly get it from the kitchen.”
Evelyn curled her lip in a sneer, “Do you mean that you have forgotten it? Do you expect me to believe that those little slaps on your worthless fat ass have caused you to forget the wishes of a Mistress?” With that Evelyn poised her hand above the rating box ready to once again punch the “Not Acceptable” button.
#157 suddenly knelt on the floor with her head bowed. “Please, please, please, Mistress. Do not rate me unacceptable. If you do so I will be punished severely. I don’t know if I could stand it. I will do anything for you if you just give me one more chance with your order.”
Evelyn laughed softly and said, “Slave, there is nothing that you could possibly do for me,” and she pushed the button.
#157 was quickly pulled to her feet. She began whimpering, “No, no, no, no, no” and struggled to pull back as the track mechanism slowly moved her back to the front of the room.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice began, “we have a demotion punishment this evening. A server slave has performed so badly that it will be punished for the rest of the evening and then demoted to a kitchen slave until it can demonstrate that it can properly perform it’s duties for it Masters and Mistresses.”
As #157 reached the front of the room, she was met by the hooded Master and Mistress and again locked into the stock, only this time there was to be no paddling. Once Gloria’s hands and feet were secured to the metal braces, she was blindfolded and what little clothing she was wearing was cut from her. Her hair was released from the track mechanism and it rolled away into the darkness. Then a long pole was fitted in place between her legs. It was adjustable and was lengthened to penetrate her cunt about 6 inches. A metal butt plug was also inserted in her ass. Wires led from the plug to a connection at the base of the stocks. Nipple clamps came next. They, too, had wires leading to the base of the stock and also had small bells which dangled from them. The final item strapped in place was a penis gag, also metal, also with wires leading from it to the base of the stocks.
As the hooded Master and Mistress stepped away from the bound slave, #157 began to twitch and thrash as severe electric shocks began to flow through her bound body. As her breasts bounced with the shocks, the sound of the bells hanging from them could be heard throughout the club. The announcer’s voice returned, “Let all server slaves hear these bells and know that proper service is rewarded, but failure to perform is punished severely.”
Evelyn breathed deeply, nearly at the point of orgasm as she watched the slave’s electrical torture. Suddenly a familiar voice spoke softly, “Enjoying yourself, Evelyn?” Sam was beside her at the table. “It’s time for your interview to see if you can become a permanent part of SaM’s Place.
Evelyn tried to form a question, but all conversation was cut off as the area on which the table was located rotated and the table slid silently into the wall. As the table rotated, Evelyn thought she could see herself in the mirrored wall looking calm and serene, exactly the way a master or mistress should look in any situation, but then she realized that it was not her in the mirror, it was a second, identical table with someone dressed identically to her rotating into the place where she had been.
When the table stopped, Evelyn found that she was in a hallway behind the wall in the club where she had been sitting. The secrecy of SaM’s place was impressive. She was ready to go to her interview, but for all that anyone knew, she was still sitting in the club watching #157 kick and twitch as she received her punishment.
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END CHAPTER FOUR OF FIFTEEN
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