By the time I looked back at the stage, raven, was again at the very top of the pole and was lowering her body downward while keeping it flat like a flag waving from the pole. Then somehow she managed to put both feet against the pole and somersault herself into the air, landing facing the front of the stage in full splits with her hands high in the air.
Again, there was tremendous applause. This time, after it had died away, the Head Mistress stepped onto the stage and said loudly, “Time to vote, my dears.” She paused a moment and then added, “Remember, any ineligible female… or sissy… who votes will join the loser up here on a punishment pole… except they will be up here for the rest of the evening.”
I leaned over to Shelly and whispered, “What is a punishment pole?”
“Later, Precious, later. I have to think so I can vote.” She then closed her eyes like she was trying to remember both performances, opening them only to look down at the small pad in her hand before pressing one of the squares on the screen.
As the Mistresses and Ma’ams voted, a running total of numbers appeared above where each of the two slaves was standing. Their Mistresses were now standing by their sides. When the numbers stopped moving raven had 109 votes. Madeline had 103.
“That was close,” I said softly, more or less to myself.
Dianne chuckled and said, “Raven’s performance was by far the most beautiful… and demanding, but Mistress Luann is a bitch that likes to lord her husband’s money and power over everyone so a lot of people voted for madeline just for spite.
I turned to Shelly and asked, “Didn’t Mistress Kiara know that raven was much better than madeline? Shouldn’t a Mistress watch out for her slave and protect her?
“Yes, she should,” Shelly answered. Then she looked directly at Margi before adding, “… unless she wanted to punish a wayward slave.” She looked back at me and brightened. “But in this case,” she said, “Mistress Kiara was looking out for her slave. She knows that madeline is a painslut and the punishment pole is one way to inflict pain without causing any harm to the body.”
“How can you do that?” I asked, and Margi immediately answered, “One way is to use a TENS unit set a little higher than recommended.” As if to emphasize her point, she triggered her joker’s scepter and sparks flew out at the head. “Or,” she continued, “you can just overload someone with pleasure… like on the punishment pole.”
She pointed to the stage and I could see that two stagehands were rolling out a strange-looking doorway that appeared to have a short dancing pole mounted in the middle of it. While they were moving, the lights came up in the club and the waitresses moved rapidly out to the tables. I watched Mistress Kiara lead madeline over to the strange doorway and then leave the stage. The two stagehands guided madeline so that she was standing in the open doorway and then lifted her hands above her head. There were leather restraints in the upper corners of the open doorway. After her wrists were secured they pulled her ankles out to the bottom edges of the doorway and strapped them into restraints located there. Finally, they grabbed the brass pole and lifted up on it so that it extended up to touch between madeline’s legs. They seemed to move it around just a little bit and then pulled it up several more inches. I could tell because there was a dark band around the pole near the middle. After lifting the pole one last time, they both left the stage.
The lights in the club blinked twice signaling the waitresses to return to the bar. The lights then dimmed leaving just a bright spotlight beaming down on madeline in the doorway. There was just enough light for me to be able to grab the drink that had been set before me. Dianne called it a Manhattan, which I think is just whiskey and vermouth, usually with a cherry floating in it. They must have spilled some of the maraschino cherry juice in mine because it had a heavy cherry overtaste when I took my first sip.
The club was very quiet as if everyone were waiting for something. Then I heard it. As it grew louder and louder, it sounded like the strongest vibrator I had ever heard. There were several whoops and cheers as madeline’s eyes shot open and she pulled against the restraints holding her hands. The pole was visibly shaking and the black band was moving up and down. It was the strongest vibrator I had ever heard… or seen.
It took only a little over thirty seconds for her to reach her first orgasm. “No,” she called out, “it’s too much. It’s too much.” But if anything, the noise got louder and the motion got faster. She soon screamed out her second orgasm.
“How long must she stay on there?” I asked Shelly. “What if it actually hurts her… I mean harms her?”
“The normal punishment on the pole is twenty orgasms,” Shelly answered.
“And her safe word is Cherokee,” Dianne said calmly, “… should something go wrong.” She took a sip of her drink and added, “Besides, Mistress Kiara wouldn’t let someone else harm her slave.”
I wanted to ask if that meant that Mistress Kiara would harm her, but all I said was, “Oh.” I was going to take a sip of my drink but realized that I was holding an empty glass.
I may not have been keeping track of how much I was drinking, but my bladder was. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I said softly.
“Go with her,” Shelly said to Margi, “just in case someone can’t read the back of her dress.”
“And leave the joker stick here,” Dianne added.
Margi looked disappointed as she set the joker’s staff on the table. “Come on,” she said as she started walking into the darkness.
As we entered the restroom, I turned to her and asked, “Would you have shocked me with your stick?”
Her face got really weird and her voice got slightly higher than normal as she said, “Until you peed all over yourself and the floor and everything within thirty feet.”
For a moment I was very afraid, but then I got that same warm feeling I get when Shelly looks into me with her black eyes. “Oh, my god!” I yelled as I ran for the stall, hoping to make it before I lost control. If I had been wearing panties, I would never have gotten them down in time. The way it was, I barely got the dress out of the way before sitting down and emptying my bladder.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Margi said from the other side of the stall door.
“Like what?” I said, then quickly added, “No, I wouldn’t.”
The stall door opened. “You would,” she said, “and I would love shocking the piss out of you and hurting you in hundreds of ways that only I can dream of… but you are Shelly’s… or will be after tonight.” She reached out her hand to help me back to my feet. “Still,” she said in a strange almost sing-song voice, “if you ever get bored with Shelly’s lovin’ or want a little pain in your life, Krazy Kitty is always waiting for you.”
“No,” I tried to say firmly, “I don’t think I would like that.”
She barred my way with one arm held across the stall doorway and reached under my dress with the other hand. I felt her hand slide between my legs and go all the way up. Then I felt her fingers push into me… with no resistance. I was as wet as a whore in heat.