Kevin sat and drank a beer and enjoyed the show of the two slaves being hung up on the stage. He liked the look of the restraints on Sara. Shortly before 8, a man approached the table and introduced himself. “I’m Mr. Johnson, the owner of this bar. May I sit with you during the show?” Kevin thought that would be fine.
At 8 PM, Joan walked onto the stage and spoke into a microphone. “Good evening. Tonight Suckers announces that it is providing new services. We are now punishing slaves for owners who don’t care to do it themselves, and we are snuffing slaves for owners that don’t care to do it themselves. We can do it in private, or on stage, as we are tonight. A variety of punishments are available. Ask your waitress for a brochure for more details. For tonight’s event, we have Sara,” as she gestured at Sara, “who is to be whipped, and unnamed,” gesturing at the other slave, “getting a whipping and a snuffing.” The second slave took a moment to react, as if she wasn’t paying attention, then started struggling and screaming into the gag. “Oops,” continued Joan, “I guess we forgot to tell her.” The audience started to laugh. “Let’s begin. Sara, you’re up first.”
Joan left the stage and went to stand behind Mr. Johnson’s chair, but he took her hand and had her sit on his lap. The designated whippers mounted the stage and took a few practice swings with their quirts, then started in on Sara with synchronized lashes. Every five strokes they stopped briefly to keep the whipped slave from passing out. Sara didn’t seem to be suffering as much as would be expected, though, and the whipping ended after 25 dual strokes. The whippers rotated her body to show off the marks, then lowered her to the floor and disconnected the ball and the chain. Joan went up and used the key from the bondage set to lock Sara’s wrists to the belt, then locked a leash onto Sara’s collar and led her down from the stage to Kevin’s table. Sara staggered but managed to stay on her feet. She had a glaze over her features and didn’t seem to be too aware of her surroundings. Joan had her kneel at Kevin’s feet and handed him the leash. “Thank you for your patronage, sir. I hope you found the whipping adequate?”
“Yes, it was fine, and rather artistic.”
Sara slumped a bit. Kevin reached down and ungagged her, then said, “Oh, I guess you don’t let outside slave suck in here.”
Mr. Johnson said, “I think we’ll make an exception for newly whipped slaves. You have us whip them, we’ll let them suck you. Go ahead.”
Kevin rose and dropped his pants, then sat and guided Sara’s head to his cock. Sara seemed to be on autopilot, and took him into her mouth and did what she had been trained to do, but had resisted so strongly. Joan looked on with amusement.
Meanwhile, on the stage, the whippers had started in again. This time there was no stopping at 25 sets of lashes. It went on for quite a while, with the slave jerking violently, then less so as the whipping went on. Finally, when she wasn’t reacting too much any more, they brought out a step stool and attached a suck noose to the victim’s neck, then turned it on.
For several minutes, the slave rocked back and forth and turned red. Then, suddenly, she was quiet. Some patrons applauded, others looked sick, and at least one was looking at his wife with a considering look on his face.
Sara had finished the suck long before the end of the noosing. Kevin had pulled up his pants and was conversing with Mr. Johnson and Joan, who was sitting on Mr. Johnson’s lap again. Sara knelt on the floor and had a vacant look on her face. Kevin noticed this and replaced the gag, which Sara didn’t seem to notice much.
In the back of the room, Delia and Louise stood with several other white and green collars and watched the show. Many of them looked almost green. All the white collars were cuffed and leashed and attached to tie-down points. After the show was over and the haul-out crew was removing the body, a green collar released the white collars and told them to return to the white collar waiting area. Delia spoke quietly with Louise as they walked. “That was barbaric.”
“Oh, not much more than usual.”
“You know, you’re right.”