The Bridge Club

12.

There was no limo this time. Instead she was helped up into the rear of a large, windowless commercial van. Inside, by the light of single dim bulb, she saw a number of nude women seated along each side on bare steel benches. Among them she recognized V.

“Take a place and undress, J. You may place your clothes beneath the bench.” V told her.

The van had already begun to move. J began removing her clothing, bracing as best she could against the van's swaying motion. With her clothes finally on the floor under her, J became just another nude body. She studied the others surreptitiously but each of them seemed locked in a private silence. ‘We are being transported like livestock.' The phrase came unbidden to J's mind and hung there.

The vehicle stopped, occasioning apprehension in J, but it was only to add another woman. It was T. She watched her sit and calmly start to unbutton her blouse. J felt she should avert her eyes but could not. As the Amer-Asian woman's small breasts were revealed J felt herself flush. T's eyes then came up to meet her own. There was no resentment in them at the fact that J was watching her. In fact, J thought she detected a slight lift at the corners of T's mouth. Suddenly all of the nude flesh around her seemed to crowd the van. J shifted slightly and realized that the hard metal under her ass had become damp.

When they arrived, J followed the other women out of the van and inside. She found her self in a large kitchen. Where covered trays of hors d'oeuvres had been set out. Several clothed women, caterers, J assumed, moved busily about preparing food and drinks and gave their arrival but cursory notice.

V informed her that she would be serving during the social hour. Her only instructions were to be silent unless addressed, to be pleasing and to remember that this night she was a slave.

How did one even serve a snack without at least asking if something was desired, J wondered? She decided that she would just have to emulate the other slaves as best she could. At some unseen signal the women took up trays and began filing out of the kitchen. J took up a salver of canapés and followed.

Out in the ballroom, J found she needn't have worried about how to approach the ladies. She was fresh meat as far as they were concerned and she received plenty of attention. Her tray was emptied repeatedly to the accompaniment of casual caresses, squeezes and sometimes painful pinches. She endured it all, doing her best to display the same submissive acceptance she observed in the other slaves.

There was no respite until the group sat down to dinner and had been served. By then J was flushed and perspiring both from her many trips back and forth to the kitchen and the frequent fondling of her breasts and ass.

She saw Emily seated at the head table. It suddenly occurred to J that Emily's hands had not been among the many that had touched her. She had passed near her with her offerings but club's uncrowned queen had always seemed unaware of her. Perhaps as far as Emily was concerned J had become just another letter. If so, it was more than fine with her. It would be hard enough to just fulfill her commitment with no added attention.

When Emily arose and announced that it was time for the Mistresses to draw their cards the slaves moved to line up and stand with lowered eyes. J followed their lead, knowing that the evening's real test was about to begin. The slave D moved along their line attaching leads to their chokers. At a light tap to her lips, J opened and felt the leather strap placed between her teeth.

One by one, letters were called out and the slaves moved to kneel beside their respective Mistresses. She was just beginning to fear that she might be the last drawn and left standing alone when she heard her letter called. Raising her eyes slightly she saw a darkly fierce, Mediterranean looking woman holding her card up. J remembered that this woman had several times given her nipples vicious tugs. It was just her damned luck to be given to one of the mean ones. With an inner dismay she moved to the woman's side, knelt, and offered up the lead in her mouth.

J was given no time dwell on what might be in store for her. The woman took the lead and immediately stood, gave it a sharp yank and started out of the room.

“Heel, bitch.”

The command came as J was already crawling as fast as she could to keep up with the woman's stride. By the time they were going up the stairs she felt as though she was being dragged along by the taut leash. She was gulping air when they entered a room and she heard the door slam behind her.

“My, what recalcitrant bitch you are. No matter. I shall soon teach you to hurry along when you are with me. Get on the bed… hands and knees!”

J bit back a desperate urge to snap back a reply. Knowing there was no help for it, she did as she was bid without looking at her new tormentor.

Both pillows were snatched from the head of the bed and placed under her.

“Down.”

J lowered her body onto the pillows and lay still with her ass raised and her face buried in the coverlet. She heard the woman humming softly to herself and felt cuffs being attached to her ankles before her legs were rudely pulled wide and secured. Her wrists received the same treatment and J knew that she was completely helpless and could only pray that is woman, mean as she seemed, was not completely crazy.

“I am Mistress Melinda. Earlier I was visiting with Emily...she mentioned that she thought you a bit uppity. Said she hoped that whichever of us got you for the night would cure you of your airs.”

The last word was followed instantly by a blazing hurt that set J's left buttock afire and tore a scream from her. She pulled her head to the side and saw that Mistress Melinda held a long, thin cane.

“What a lovely shade of red.”

The woman's mouth seemed to move in slow motion and J heard the words from the far side of a haze of pain.

“Thwack!”

Her right buttock flamed and she screamed again and then sagged over the pillows, panting.

“Loud bitch as well. I have a gag here...but I like the sound of pain and this room is somewhat removed…so make all the noise you like.”

Hearing this, J determined that she would die before she gave this devil bitch the pleasure of hearing her howl again but when the sole of her left foot erupted in pain another scream was barely held back to a hard grunt.

“Let's play twenty questions, J. Shall we?”

Before J realized an answer was wanted her right foot was burned by the cane and even biting her lip she could not restrain an agonized groan.

“You must answer up, girl. Now, tell me what you are?”

“I am a slave of the bridge club, Mistress.”

J threw out the answer with a desperate haste to appease her inquisitor.

“Yes… you are certainly that. What else? Are you also a worthless whore?”

J hesitated at this and the thin fire laced across her left thigh.

“Yes.” She gasped.

“Yes? Not yes, Mistress? Are you also a slut? A bit of trash who has sold her self for the business I have sent your firm?”

Before J could utter a word the cane thwacked hotly across her right thigh, and after that the questions came too fast to answer, each punctuated by the white heat of the cane. The insults and blows rained down upon her defenseless form until she was reduced to nothing more than a moaning reservoir of pain.

She must have passed out for, when she came round, she found that although bound and spread eagled as before, she was now on her back. The Mistress Melinda was now nude as well and sitting astride her belly. The dusky shine of the woman's skin seemed to add to the malevolence gazing down at her. It was the pain in her nipples that had revived her. They felt as if they were being pulled from her body.

“Ah, there you are, back with me at last.”

J's nipples were let go and the woman reversed her position and lowered her ass over J's face.

“Now get your proud little tongue up inside my asshole and please me or I shall really hurt you.”

Barely able to breathe and truly afraid of what further pain the woman might visit upon her, J complied. Her tongue in another woman's ass was something she had never envisioned but in her present disembodied state even disgust was beyond her. She wanted only to reach the end of the night.

After what seemed an age, the woman grinding down on her face was apparently nearing completion as the rear opening mashing her mouth was replaced by a very wet pussy. She then felt a mouth at her own sex and despite her condition, she came alive to it. Perhaps it was only that at last she was being given a sensation other than pain to respond to. No sooner had she begun thrusting up to meet the hot licking she was receiving than the woman's orgasm flooded her tired tongue. Even swallowing, she thought she was about to cum as well, but at just that moment her clit was bitten harshly and she screamed horribly into a descending blackness.