Death of a Master Ch. 06

"We're still working on a name, but I've been calling it the Multi-frame. With this set, you can put together any of the four most popular bondage frames. We've used a titanium alloy for strength. While aluminum would have been even lighter, we wanted to eliminate the chance of failure in the frame pieces." He opened the leather bag as he continued, "These are the connectors." An assortment of jointing pieces appeared on the floor, including three way elbow bends, cross joints and extender joints. "These black poles are the base for any of the constructions."

Mr. Harris quickly snapped the four black poles into four of the elbow joints, creating a three foot square with vertical slots for other poles. "If you don't need four uprights, you can replace any of the three way joints with two ways. From here, one can erect, for example, a box frame by simply building four vertical extensions and capping them with a pair of cross bars." As he spoke, Harris did just that, creating a box frame a little over six feet tall in a matter of minutes.

Once it was complete, Valerie walked around and through it, occasionally extending her arms an legs into imaginary bondage. The possibilities assaulted her immediately. She knew several people in the lifestyle who were never able to use bondage frames simply because they lived in rental properties and were unable to install them or modify their home with solid anchoring points. A sturdy frame that could be put up and taken down quickly would be a godsend for such people.

"I noticed," she asked, pointing to the three way joints at the base, "that the upright jointings seems to be swiveled."

"Yes, let me show you." He began to partially disassemble the box frame as he talked. "You would want to be careful about unbalancing the frame. The major disadvantage of the relatively low weight is that most submissives will weight more than the frame. Build an X on one side and down she'll come. But, by swiveling these like so," he released a push peg catch and the upright joint swiveled 45 degrees in two directions. "Now we can add cross beams joined by this cross joint and we have a St. Andrew's Cross. Go ahead and lean on the cross, it'll hold you just fine."

Valerie did so, carefully putting her weight on it just as it would be in her basement. She even bounced on it a few times to simulate the effect of being whipped and struggling. There was no sensation of tipping in any direction. "What about attachment points," she asked, noting that the poles had no place to secure ties of any kind.

"That's what these are for," he answered, showing her a handful of clamp like devices. He demonstrated clamping on a pole by closing the device and setting a bolt and wing nut assembly between the two ends as he continued, "You attach them like so, tightening the wing nut until it doesn't slip. The integral eyebolt is molded as part of the clamp itself. Properly tightened, it won't slip under any conceivable human weight. We tested them up to 450 pounds, which is ridiculously strong; but better safe than in court later."

Val pulled experimentally on the clamp, finding it solidly locked into place. Stepping back, she commented, "That's impressive. Can see quite a market for it. I assume you'll be wanting a full barrage of ads in several publications?"

"Exactly, and we want to us your knowledge of your readers to target each ad as best as possible. Obviously, we'll want to take out spots in Mastering, The Sensible Submissive, and Bondage Monthly."

"Of course, but I'd also include, for maximum exposure, Road Bound and The Pony's Paddock."

"Why those two?"

"Road Bound has a significant readership of outdoors men and women. A bondage frame that could easily be taken on camping outings is sure to be a hit. Our advice column gets regular questions on how to safely bind people in the wilderness. Trust me, one bout of poison ivy in the nether regions is enough to swear one off of outdoor play for good. As for Pony's Paddock, there's sufficient crossover between the pony play and bondage communities to justify the ads. Setting up the frame as a portable stable or breeding paddock come to mind," Val added, recalling a seminar on breeding play at the pony fair a few weeks ago.

"Breeding paddock?" Mr. Harris asked, incredibulity filling his features.

"Yes, there's a sub-fetish of pony play that is very D/s and sexualized. The pony girl and boy involved are bred, in a manner of speaking, like real horses, with the mare restrained and the stallion brought in to mount her. I'm not all that familiar with the fetish, but our interim editor of Pony's Paddock could probably give you more details," Val offered, sure that Mary's ongoing desires to be as well informed as possible would have her well informed on the subject. "I suspect it's not that much different from a Master with multiple slaves ordering two or more of them to perform for his enjoyment."

"I see. I had no idea. I would need to talk with your editor to get some idea of how the frame could be used in pony play."

"Just a minute," Val said, reaching for her intercom. "Would you be available at all today?" she added, finger poised over the button.

"Yes, though it would have to be after two this afternoon."

Pressing the intercom, Val asked, "June, would you see if Mary has an opening this afternoon, after two, to see Mr. Harris?"

"Of course, Ms. Burbon. I'll have the information by the time you're done."

"Thank you, June." Turning back to Harris, Val continued. "Let's leave that magazine for later, when you have a better idea of what the possibilities are. As for the others, I'd suggest an initial spread that shows the frame in a wide variety of arrangements. If we use Dutch's, we'll have the added advantage of word of mouth advance advertising, locally, at least. You might even consider gifting one of the frames to Dutch himself..."

The meeting continued, with the discussions turning to what dominants and submissives would be looking for in a frame, as well as the readers of Road Bound. At the end of the hour, they'd blocked out a series of potential ads for the four magazines and the photos needed for them. Mr. Harris had also agreed to let Valerie have his demonstration set sent to Dutch's in advance so that the local photography professional would be well versed in it's use by the time the shots were needed.

As Val walked him out to the lobby, June looked up, saying, "Mr. Harris, Mary Carstares will be able to see you at three today, if that works for you."

"Yes, that will be fine. I'm sorry to rush off, but I have another appointment. I'll have the kit back to you this afternoon, Ms. Burbon."

"That will be fine. I'll be able to drop it of with Dutch on my way home. A pleasure, as always, Mr. Harris."

They shook hands and the man left. Once he was gone, June added, "Ms. Carstares asked if you would stop in for a few minutes, if you have time. She's sounding pretty tense."

"I'm not surprised. I assume I have some free time?"

"Yes, ma'am, 30 minutes until your next appointment; the monthly budget meeting."

"Okay, I'll go there from Mary's office."

Valerie made the familiar trip between hers and Calvin's, now Mary's, office and was surprised to find Mary sitting at her secretary's desk. Smiling disarmingly, Val commented, "Did they fire you so quickly, Mary?"

"Oh, no, Ms. Burbon, I'm just more comfortable..."

Valerie held her hand up. "Mary, you're not the secretary any more. You're the editor of The Pony's Paddock. You need to behave like you are. People coming to see you will be expecting to meet you in that office," she added, pointing at the door behind her desk, "not out here." Trying to mellow her voice, Valerie reassured Mary, "Mary, I understand that you're feeling out of sorts right now. Between Calvin's death and your being told to take over for him, I imagine you're wondering if you can do this."

"Ms. Burbon, it just seems so disloyal to just take over his office. He was a hard man to work for, with high expectations from everyone he dealt with." Val nodded in agreement, having subbed to Calvin on occasion and lent Sally to him on even more. What would he think of my just moving in like that?"

"He'd think that the person who knows more about his magazine than anyone else is covering for him, long term. He'd expect you to do at least as good a job as he did." Valerie sat on the edge of Mary's desk, trying to become more approachable to the worried former secretary. "Did he ever tell you about his past secretaries?" At Mary's shaking head, Val continued, "Before he ordered Susan to work as his secretary, he's gone through 13 in the previous seven months. He expected the same level of perfection from his secretaries as he did from his slave. He expected them to work the same hours he did. Before you walked into my office, the only person who could give him what he needed in an assistant was a slave. You were a godsend to him and this company."

"He always worked himself so hard; never taking care of himself. I'm sure if he'd been living alone, he'd have worked himself into an early..." Mary choked up at what she'd been about to say. "I think there were times when he only went home so he could torture Susan. She was so good for him."

"She was, wasn't she. You need to really take over now. It's what he'd expect from you." Taking Mary's hand, Val led her through the doors to her new office, grabbing Mary's picture frame with her three dogs and four cats in it. Sitting Mary down, Val placed the pictures on the desk. "This is your desk now; make it yours. Now, you asked to talk to me about something specific. What can I help you with?"

"How long...I mean, if there's something I think needs changed, how long should I..."

"...wait? As short as is needed for how important the change is. Just what were you thinking of?"

"I know you and he have disagreed as to the acceptability of pet product ads in Pony's Paddock. He always felt they would be an insult to the human animals and their owners that read the magazine. It wasn't my place to disagree with him, not as his assistant, but I did. I've had the chance to talk with many of them while they waited for appointments. There's a fair number of animal lovers among the human animals and owners."

"I didn't have any specifics on that myself, just an advertiser's gut feeling," Val interjected.

"Plus, while it isn't so true with ponies, there's an element of humiliation involved with some of the other animals. I think some of them feed their human pets animal food to make their animal, or pet, status more real and humiliating." True to her nature, Mary evidenced more curiosity than revulsion at the thought.

Valerie, on the other hand, shuddered at the invoked memory of the time Rachael had made her think she'd been eating real dog food (but had in fact fed her cold canned stew). "I'm not sure how pet food companies would react to such a suggestion," Val responded, once she'd regained control. "I wouldn't even begin to try to pitch such an idea until I had some firm numbers, not only of the interest, but of the lack of negative reaction if such uses were to be advertised, both for us and for the pet food company."

"I understand. The potential backlash could be intense. How should I get that data?"

"I'd suggest not using the magazine directly. Some focus groups, perhaps. It might be best to out source the job; keep Delgrasi insulated from the questions."

"I'll see what I can set up. Ms. Burbon, I..."

"Valerie put her hand up. "Mary, we're equals now. Call me Val, or Valerie. There's no need for Ms. Burbon at this point."

Mary looked uncomfortable at another reminder of her change in status. "Valerie, I'm grateful for you taking the time to talk with me. I feel over my head, trying to adjust not just to his death, but to this promotion."

"It's my pleasure, Mary. Unlike a lot of companies, Delgrasi seems more like a family, at times, than a business. I suspect it has something to do with what we do. You can't work here long and not come to love the lifestyles we represent and reach out to."

Valerie's day remained busy until it was time to close up and head home. Mr. Harris had dropped off the bondage frame, as promised, and Valerie took it with her as she left the building. Dutch's Photography was on her route home. June had already confirmed that he was working his usual late hours. The eccentric photographer was a godsend to a business like Delgrasi. He was a top notch visual artist who had no problem with any kink themed shoots (as far as Val had found). Valerie had originally discovered him through Marsha, one of Charles' original subs when Val had first met him. It didn't take long before Valerie had made Dutch's Delgrasi's primary photo studio.

Shouldering the bag, Val entered the ground floor door and climbed the stairs to his second floor offices. When his secretary, a platinum blond with blindingly white smile, waved Valerie back as soon as she cleared the stairs, Valerie knew Dutch had another erotic shoot in progress. A woman's groan was accompanied by the whirring of the winder on a camera. Valerie stood back as the balding man seemed to dance around his subject, clicking the camera as fast as it could wind to the next frame.

The subject of the shoot was a naked woman, her arms bound tightly behind her, laced together from wrist to elbow by a beautiful web of blue rope. Even at a distance, Valerie could see the indentations the ropes made on her flesh. Her legs were cuffed to rings in the floor, forcing them four feet apart. The bondage was completed by a rope that pulled her arms up towards the ceiling, forcing her to bend over at the waist. Sweat beaded on her body as it strained in the harsh strapedo position. Her long brunette tresses fell forward to partially obscure her face.

Off to one side was a man, dressed in very brief bikini briefs. His black skin shone with a liberal application of massage oil. His state of near nudity made it plain there was nothing small about him, as the image of his barely restrained cock was visible where he'd arranged it, pointing off to the side of the briefs. Large, muscular arms were crossed over his chest, seeming to rest on the six-pack abs below them.

Valerie could only smile as she watch Dutch's two favorite models enjoying themselves. Sylvia was only the second true pain slut Valerie had ever met. Like Val's oriental friend Surmi, Sylvia could, and did, cum from pure pain stimulation. Valerie knew that if she could see Sylvia's face, she'd see a simmering ecstatic expression, anticipating harsher pain with bated breath.

Roger was one of the best theatrical whip handler Val had ever met. Where most dominants or tops emphasized whipping to create the perfect sensations for their sub, Roger concentrated on creating the perfect visual effects when he whipped. When he slung a whip or flogger, it looked just like one expected a whipping to look like. Roger was very popular with movies that included whipping scenes, as well as with fetish photographers (Valerie often wondered how the movie, Valerie's Crisis would have been different if Roger, whom she hadn't known at the time, had been working on it as a consultant, instead of just Valerie and Sally).

"Sylvia, how are you doing?" the photographer asked.

The bound woman managed to squeeze a, "Good," out between breaths.

"Fantastic," he exclaimed, letting his camera swing from his neck as he moved closer and grabbed her hair. With deft hands, he pulled her hair up into a single mass, around which, he snapped a elastic band to hold it that way. A roll of tape appeared in his hands, seemingly out of nowhere. The tape was wrapped around the mass of hair and the rope pulling Sylvia's arms back. Dutch stepped back and raised his camera again. "You're on, Roger. Let's get this in one take, shall we?"

Roger nodded and took the two whips at his belt in each hand. With well practiced motions, he swung the whips, striking Sylvia with alternating strokes that left visible red streaks where they landed. Sylvia cried out, partly in pain, partly in ecstasy, as her body felt the strokes and experienced them as pleasurable, albeit harsh, lover's caresses. Roger's cock soon hardened to full rigidity, it's tip poking out from the top of his briefs. Dutch loved that effect and made sure to capture several shots showing the movement of the phallus from it's flaccid, sideways pose to an erectness that strained the meager clothing that attempted to restrain it.

Sylvia's first orgasm came with the first strike directly against her pussy. Dutch's camera caught the forming welt and one of the jets of fluid erupting from her cunt. Sylvia was a squirter, a fact that made her popular with the artistic fetish industry, able to visibly cum on camera. The whipping continued for another five minutes, before Dutch ordered another change and Roger dropped his briefs and took Sylvia from behind. Dutch was able to capture that instant when Roger's ten inch penis, veins visible along it's length, began its plunge into Sylvia's pussy. Each thrust into her cunt pushed her body forward while her arms remained where they were bound, pulling hard on her shoulders, sending more waves of pain through her body.

Roger, already primed by watching the earlier parts of the session and his own whipping of Sylvia, didn't need long before he was ready to climax. Pulling out, Roger jacked himself off while he moved to in front of Sylvia. The shoot ended with the obligatory cum shot, this time over Sylvia's face. After catching some final sots of Sylvia's tongue straining to reach the streams of semen covering her face, Dutch told Roger to take Sylvia down. As he turned towards Valerie, who he'd seen earlier, Roger undid the ropes and lowered Sylvia to the floor where he massaged her arms and shoulders.

"Valerie, is that the new piece of equipment?"

"Yes, this is it. Feel free to experiment with it. I'll have the blocks sent to you sometime tomorrow."

"Sounds great. I need to get set up for my next shoot. Take care of yourself."

A short time later, Valerie found herself walking up the steps to the house, her own pussy damp in anticipation of playing with her slave. Inside, she found Susan sitting on the couch, legs folded beneath her, watch TV. Vanna White was lighting up three Ns as one of the players on the game show added $1200 to their total, but failed to solve the puzzle.

"Evening, Susan."

"Hi, Mis...Valerie. Sally's in the kitchen."

"Thanks."

Val walked to the kitchen where the aroma of Italian sauce battled with that of horny slave for dominance. Sally was tasting her sauce, commenting to herself, "another half hour, at least."

"Good," Val commented, putting her arms around Sally and finding a cunt that was dripping juice. "Did we cum today, little slave?"

Sally nodded, her lower lip between her teeth. "I couldn't hold it off the first time mistress."

"I'll have to punish you, then. It starts with this," she added, her hand returning to Sally's pussy. Slowly, she stimulated the already excited slave, fingers deftly massaging the folds of pussy, pulling gently on the four pairs of rings piercing the folds, and tickling Sally's clit. Sally leaned back into her Mistress' embrace, accepting the torment coming her way. Her arousal rose fast, soon reaching the level where she was panting with desire, her hips thrusting against Val's hand. As Sally strained against an insipient orgasm, Valerie took her hand away, wiping the fluids over Sally's face.

Sally whimpered in sensuous agony, her arousal remaining high, but not sufficient to climax. Her own hands gripped Valerie's, the touch signaling her need and acceptance of her torture. She licked the hand, sucking each finger in to lavish adoration on it. "I'm yours, Mistress, now and forever."