PLAYTIME AT THE CLUBHOUSE

You don’t find many places like the hunt club house in or around this city anymore. It’s just beyond the twisting ribbons of highway that surround the city, beyond the dump and airport and the outland prison slum they call Nod. Once it was a mansion - a rich man’s home. When they bought it from his grandson, it was still full of animal heads, books, and poshness from all over the world. Now it is a citadel of justice. Our torture devices and weapons are stored there. It’s there that we train to bring down the bitches. Targets are made of photographs of Dark Falcon, Duster and as many others as we can find. We keep files on the actions of each woman. We hunt them.
The house has taken on the persona of the huntmaster. It was austere and seemed to hum with the energy of our purpose. Our weapons. Our capture devices. Our Mission.
Scorpio was awake by the time we reached the manor. I dragged her by a dog collar up the stone stairs of the house and a down the hallway, smiling constantly about the beauty of it all. Here was Scorpio, about to be our latest feast. I entered the room with her defeated supple body in tow.

“Gentlemen!” I called out. The other hunters, ten in that room, looked up an beamed at me. For a moment, they forgot about the red-clad woman they’d been torturing.

“I have something to add to the evening’s entertainment!”

Quickly, we undid Scoprio’s ropes, took hold of her arms and legs, dragged her over to the metal tables, and secured her in the same way we’d secured Red Devil. With her time in the chamber done, the other hunters had placed Red Devil on an operating table with leather straps pinning her ankles, thighs, waist, wrists and neck. She was fully conscious now, but had long since given up her struggle against the leather. Now she lay like her lesbian lover and fellow-crimefighter - bound, defeated and about to experience a world of pain.

“We have Scorpio here for you, Devil.” I laughed.

Scorpio was quiet. She was awake and, but said nothing as we strapped her in. Two heroines. Succulent bodies, side-by-side. Two women ready to be punished.

“Dare I ask what this is all about?” Red Devil finally said.

“They’re our fan club, Devil.” Scorpio replied. Beaten, tied and helpless, they mad mocking jokes. His usually calm face now a mask of anger, the huntmaster lashed out a palm, slapping Scorpio’s face.
“Understand this, bitch. You are here to be tried.”

“On what charges?” asked the Asian woman.

“Crimes against the natural order of humanity.”

Achorus of “Yes!” and “Guilty!” rose from the other hunters. I joined in, growing hard and excited as I did.

“But first, we will teach you the true meaning of a woman and her true weakness.”

Again we turned into a riot of voices. We would tear them apart.

We started with Scorpio, using the same technology as we’d placed in the booth. Sensors on her forehead. Sensors on her breasts. A VR visor over her eyes. Still she did not ... could not struggle.

“With this technology, Scorpio, we can tap into your brain and tell it what to feel. It takes torture to a new level. Here, have a third degree burn on your labia.”

A button was pushed and her screams torn through the room. Now her muscular legs were shaking against the bonds. Her breasts quivered and her head thrashed from side to side, but Scorpio was ours now.

“Ever been penetrated by an iron bar? Here.”

Screaming.

“Have the burns all over your body.”

Screaming. Thrashing.

“How about an Amazon python entering you?”

Now the pain was so great that she could only gasp. Sweat was forming between her breasts and beading all over her.

“You’re dying Scorpio. You’re dying. How do you like that? Oh, Devil ... you aren’t forgotten. Give her the chastity belt.”

My female servants did the task. They secured the Belt of Pain around Red Devil’s waist and crotch. Now, as we took Scopio through her expedition of pain, her lover was subjected to jolt after jolt of pulsing electricity. It was focused on her cilt and allowed her to join the chorus of screams.

“Now this was worth the membership fees,” I laughed.