To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge
Chapter 2: Barbette
The women assembled in Lady M___'s parlor stood in various degrees of agitation, excitement, or swoonage.
The Baroness Manchester smiled to one and all, her smirk firm yet not as firm as the erection that bulged against the front of her loose pants.
"I've simple got to know," Lady Petunia said, with eyes flashing and lips smacking, "from a technical standpoint, of course, how ever did you accomplish such a thing?"
"Pneumonic pumps," Manchester grinned back. "Tiny clever pumps that inflate the device at the touch of a pocketed button. It also has a secondary pulse action that is, I have been told, quite authentic."
Petunia leaned closer. "Yet how is it mounted? What keeps it from shifting about under loading?"
"There is a hilt that fits snuggly into me, covered with tiny cilia. When the unit is deployed, any pressure against it causes a similar pressure against my own sexual zones."
Barbette, the French head-maid, blinked at this. She wasn't following the technical discussion very well, and was not sure she approved of the Baroness's modification. She figured that the only way to be certain would be to follow the tenets of French science, meaning the isolation of the subject (her own little room would do), securing the subject (there were plenty of ropes in her dresser) and then a rigorous examination (with her language difficulties, Barbette was not sure of the exact meaning of the word 'rigorous', but she liked the sound of it). But, sadly, such was not her place.
Lady Petunia seemed to have similar thoughts.
"I would really like to see this device in action. Perhaps we could retire to my room for a little, um, R&D?"
"Certainly Not," Lady M___ blustered. "Lady Goldwaith, If I Might Remind You, You Were The Night's Grand Looser At Cards."
"Yes, so? It was only a game, right?"
"Not On My Estate. It Is Generally Understood That The Night's Looser Faces Certain Penalties."
Petunia blinked her sparkling blue eyes, a look of uncertainty playing so fetchingly across her petite face. "Exactly what sort of penalties?"
That was Barbette's cue. Moving silently on her high heals and slinky maid's outfit, she slipped directly behind the blonde scientist. With a quick motion, she grabbed the woman's right arm and pressed it up behind her back, not enough to hurt but enough to imply. The other hand clamped over thick scarlet lips.
"Do not fight me on zis," Barbette whispered to her captive. "You are to be, ow you zay, 'put away' until tomorrow."
Two other maids moved in, one bearing a generous coil of rope, the other a thick cotton gag. Lady Petunia Goldwaith's hands were joined together behind her back and carefully trussed up. Whatever objections she might have had (not that Goldwaith was usually prone to objections) were muted by the application of the gag between her full lips. The other women watched as their fellow guest was efficiently secured, some of them displaying relief that this was not happening to them, but many with regrets that it indeed was not happening to them.
"No Bedtime Manni For You Tonight," Lady M___ decreed. "Make Sure She Is Well Secured."
"Of course, Mademoiselle," Barbette replied. Then, to Petunia, she added. "Come, my little dove. We must poot you safely away for zee night."
"Mmmmph!"
Barbette and her two assisting maids firmly guided the resigned scientist up the stairs, down the hall, to her room. Once inside, Barbette instructed one of the maids to something which needed seeing to. Then she and the other maid saw to their charge.
Unable to resist them, Petunia watched with wide blue eyes as she was stripped down to her slip. Then she was forced to lay face down on the floor while the two women worked up a nice secure hogtie. As it would be an overnight-tie, Barbette was kind, leaving a foot of lead between wrists and ankles (though, personally, she would have loved to see how the well-built blonde would look bowed to her limit). Once the basic ropes were in place, the two amused themselves by adding ropes to various limbs, delighting in the bulge of womenflesh and the muffled groans of their captive. Knees, elbows, forearms, breasts, shoulder blades, and belly were all carefully traced in cordage. In the end, poor Petunia was a helpless little thing, laying in the center of a vast expanse of carpet with no relief in sight.
While they were pulling tight the final knot, there came a scrape from a nearby wall. Barbette looked up just in time to see the manni's fleshy root being withdrawn. The other maid, following orders, had unstrapped the toy and was now taking it downstairs to the maid's quarters. After all, the fellow would be wasted on this room tonight.
Petunia craned up just in time to see a round seal being shoved into the wall-hole. She moaned softly to herself at the wondrous opportunity she'd lost. Barbette smiled a wry little smile, patting the blonde on her head.
"Do not worry, mon Cherri. Be brave. Eet is only for one night."
Petunia rolled her eyes. One could go to heaven in only one night. But for her it would be the cool floor and still air as she was abandoned to her prolonged punishment. Sadly, she watched Barbette's tall heels as the slender Frenchwoman strode from the room. The following moment, the door closed, sealing her in. With a weary sigh, Petunia began her pointless struggles against the ropes. What else could she do?
Barbette dismissed the other girl, seeing to the readiness of the hall. On various stands were silver dishes containing clips, rubber tubing, elastic bands, and anything else the wing's occupants might need during their stays. She checked the room where Jillian had her mishap; already a new manni was in place. She then made a final circuit of the long silent halls, turning down the gaslights. Finally she descended the back stairs to the servant's level.
The servant's hall was empty, strange on such a night. Likely many of the girls had already eaten and gone to amuse themselves in the barn. After all, Jillian was an attractive girl, and it was always such fun to torment an attractive girl. They looked so beautiful while they writhed.
Barbette ladled herself bowl of soup and poured a cup of tea, kicking her heels off beneath the bench. It was so nice to sit for a quiet moment after a hectic day spent binding up the mannis, organizing the girls, and seeing after the guests. But now the day was done.
She placed her dishes in the sink and fetched out her shoes, carrying them in the hook of her long fingers, padding down the hall in her stocking feet. She paused before the door leading to Glenda's room. Here was the manni whom Jillian had set off; as per the rules, if a maid was clumsy enough to allow a wall-manni to discharge, she went to the barn for the night while the manni shared another maid's bed in reward. This one was in Glenda's care, and the girl had a particular fetish, one that the tall continental head-maid found silly yet enduring. The manni had been bundled up into a little rocking cradle, tucked in nice and tightly. A bonnet had been placed on his head, a pacifier bound into his mouth. Barbette knew that the poor fellow wore a diaper, and soon Glenda would be bottle-feeding him a potent laxative. She enjoyed to pander, to coddle, and to mother bound mannis. Such a strange fetish, indeed.
And so she passed along to the end of the hall where her own room awaited her. She entered, turned up the lamp, and placed fingers to her mouth in surprise. There on her bed lay another manni, naked, bound up in minimal fashion: hands behind his back and feet together. A thick gag had been jammed into his mouth, for who wanted to hear their bleats? She stared at the manni, wondering where this unexpected gift had come from.
Then she knew; a broad smiled broke across her thin lips. It was the manni who'd been in Petunia's room; when the girls had removed him they'd been kind enough to leave him for her pleasure. How nice! How thoughtful! Her grin deepened as she closed the door slowly, sliding the bolt home. She loved the way the poor manni followed her every move.
Enjoying the audience, she slowly stripped down to her slip, pulling the nylons from her long legs and kicking them saucily away. The manni watched her every motion, his eyes nearly as big as his throbbing rod. He knew what his purpose was here and it fed his excitement.
It fed hers too. She always enjoyed a good manni before bed. When she raised her hands to take off her maid's bonnet, her breasts rose, the nipples standing hard against her slip. She could feel her heart heating at his helplessness.
And then, with him watching her every move, she picked up her feather duster.
"My poor little friend. You look zo sad. Is zat not zo?" She settled down next to him, her natural fragrance and warmth flowing over him like a sensuous mist. "You look zo dour. Is zer not zomething I can do?" And then, smiling fixedly, her pulse hammering in enjoyment of the situation, she began to play the feathertips along his flanks, a niggling that set his nerves afire.
"Non, non. Do not try to roll away. I only weesh to 'elp you." A firmer grip. He looked wildly up, shaking his head no, yet clearly looking forward to her punishment. The feathers traced his rib line, down to his abdomen, across his tight belly before sweeping around his rod. He arched his back, helpless in her firm grip, doomed before her feathers.
"Zere are zo many ways we can have amusement, no? We can tickled zee feet..." A quick cruel swipe. "Or zee ribs." Sweep. "Or zee leetly piggy belly." Sweep. "Or even across zee neeples." Sweep.
Tears were flowing down the manni's cheeks now, tears of tortured joy. Barbette knew all about this; she could torture a manni for hours yet hold him in check until she was ready to ride him over the finish line. And sometimes, such as now, it was even better that he be tied in such a minimal fashion for it left him free to roll about the bed and tumble onto the floor, dragging the sheets like the wake of a boat. She would follow him every inch of the way, her duster flickering in across his exposed flesh, taking advantage without quarter nor mercy.
It was what truly heated her box.
Time passed and her little cell was filled with gurgling, muffled laughter. Soon the manni, wild with erotic fear, had pressed himself into a corner, his bound arms pressed into the narrow slot, his feet drawn up, his manhood fit to burst. Barbette knelt before him, her ringletted hair falling down across her narrow face, her eyes flashing like a lioness sensing blood in the air. She raised the dreadful duster a final time.
"And now, my leetle friend, I must put paid to you."
There came a hesitant knock at the door.
"Merde."
Eyes on her prize, Barbette slowly pulled herself to her feet, looking down at her doomed captive while setting the feather duster carefully and specifically on the dresser, clearly indicating that they would returned to this fearsome moment soon enough. The manni gasped for breath around his gag, watching her with fear-dilated eyes. His manhood pulsed in the excitement of the pursuit and coming rape. To be taken by Barbette was to be taken by a whirlwind.
She slid the bolt aside. "Oui, what ees it?" A moment later, three sets of female hands closed on her. Her mouth was stifled beneath a heated palm. Her arms were pinned to her sides. Then noosed ropes were dropped over her shoulders and pulled tight. Only when her arms were secured was the hand replaced with a utilitarian ball gag.
In seconds, she'd gone from the hunter to the prey, standing in the middle of her three captors, arms bound down, mouth plugged. She shook hair from her eyes and fixed her sister-maids with a 'it's a bad time for games' look.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Lady M___ ordered this. It's not our idea. Now come along peacefully."
The lead ropes drew taunt, dragging her down the hall. One of the girls kicked the door closed.
In the room, the manni sat in his cold little corner, alone and forgotten. Out of his reach, his erection throbbed in pointless readiness. His pathetic little moan floated in the gloom.
12.07.09
story continues in Gai-Shift - Reversal 3: Baroness Manchester's Device
o0o