Nusquam

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Kelly grasps her medical bag, steps from the car then pauses, turning her head to stare at the thick packet of paperwork on the passenger seat. Should she bring the Fedex delivery with her?

The Director forwarded the many legal docs overnight, the photos and data on Patricia LaMange receiving an enthusiastic response. Would it be premature to present the legal paperwork concurrent with her explanation and overview of Nusquam?

Kelly steps back, opens the car door and retrieves the envelope. It cannot hurt to have it ready. Pattie may find herself equally enthusiastic.

The paperwork joins the medical bag and Kelly locks the car and proceeds to the posh apartment building of Patricia LaMange, mentally planning her words and explanations and also speculating in what form, what condition she will find her client. Who has tormented her on this afternoon... fed her addiction.

Past the doorman, into the elevator, Pattie’s neighbors have come to assume the girl is ill, disabled, not able to leave the apartment, requiring daily a visit from a tending nurse. If they only knew the details of her aftercare... or more shocking... the deviant antics undertaken in Pattie’s expensively equipped chamber of pain and degradation.

The doorlock yields and Kelly wonders how many keys to Pattie’s swanky abode are in circulation. It seems half the New York D/s community has access... has visited... has tormented.

Entering, the vast penthouse is silent... no moans... to pleas for attention in response to the rattle of the lock and latching of the door.

No afternoon play?

To the dungeon, Kelly pushes open the door. There is more silence as a hand reaches to the light switch. The room alights and Kelly encounters a sight which would shock the neophyte.

The motionless naked and hairless form of Pattie LaMange hangs upright inches above the floor in suspension, wrists restrained behind her back, the spreader bar obscenely forcing apart enticingly proportioned thighs to expose the girl’s s*x. Kelly is relieved in noting the well endowed chest heaves, the girl is breathing. The suspension gear was purchased at great cost, a transformed parachute harness, safe and ironically comfortable. Yet Kelly realizes that indeed her prognostication of orthostatic syncope has overtaken the voluptuous form... and perhaps mercifully. For protruding from all parts pink... n*****s, labia, and she must assume c******l hood... are dozens of needles.

An extinguished Sterno can on a nearby table evidences that the excruciating agony was augmented with searing heat... which ironically also serves to cauterize and suppress bleeding... and inhibit infection.

All the extreme sensitive feminine anatomical parts of heiress Patricia LaMange have been porcupined... in D/s parlance.

“Oh Pattie,” Kelly softly admonishes, knowing the girl cannot hear, “you’ve had a long, long afternoon,” noting the broken capsules of ammonia next to the depleted Sterno.

Now many times did Pattie faint, only to be revived for the next searing hot needle?

Kelly needs to act. Too long hanging in an upright position will foster a cascade of life threatening reactions... various biological systems will one by one shut down. Once again Pattie has offered herself to the dangerous whims of an amateur. Subordinates held in such precarious forms of restraint require supervision.

What to do?

Lowering the unconscious form may bring damage, too many needles, too much chance of further penetration in toppling to the floor, the dozens of pricks currently superficial, intended only to bring intense pain until cooled. Thus Kelly needs a mobile Pattie LaMange, able to support herself... briefly... when the harness is lowered and removed.

To the kitchen... a towel... some ice... Pattie will need to be revived, the deluge of endorphins spurred by her ordeal countered... the strange but welcomed nirvana of the vanquished masochist to end.