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Act XIV

***

The tall, pale equine spent quite some time with Bill Waterman, getting all of his equipment for his new job. Afterward, Hank found his parking place in the staff parking lot, a nice assigned space at the end of a row that meant he wouldn't have much trouble getting his beast, a 1993 International Harvester Corporation 4-door pickup in and out of his spot.

Grabbing part of his luggage out of the back seat, he headed up to his room, a single bed staff room on the third floor of the dorm wing. Using his new access card, the door to the staff entrance opened up for him, allowing him access. Taking the staff elevator upstairs, he found his room after getting lost for just a few minutes.

“Hmm, not bad," he said to himself, setting his things on the table in the small kitchenette after he pushed the door shut with his foot. Sitting down on the small couch, he took his tactical combat boots and socks off, wiggling his toes as he stretched out. He then changed into some denim shorts, a black tank top and some tennis shoes afterward to finish moving his things. He made one more trip to get the rest of his possessions out of his truck and put them away, then he headed down to the staff cafeteria for a much-needed evening meal.

***

Linda was setting up a red collar performer on a padded struggle board, one of the newer ones that Chuck Waddell had commissioned for Blue Hawaii. It was similar to the older ones but it had no movable studs, just thin padding under the performer.

The performer, a tall brindle colored canid named Ruth Simpson, had already put on the wide waist belt that was part of the attachment to the table and got herself situated. The belt, once the performer was on the table, had a heavy pin in back that went through a hole in the table, allowing a cross-pin underneath to hold them down securely.

Linda was finishing attaching Ruth's wrists to the cables provided, holding her hands up and out of the way when her phone rang. Linda looked at the number momentarily, waiting for her phone to authenticate the call before answering it.

“Linda, this is Rita at the front desk. I need to go pick up someone at the airport for Mr. Waddell so could you come down here and watch the front desk for me?"

“Uh, yeah, I could do that for you. Let me get Ruth's ankles hooked up and I'll be right down."

Linda attached Ruth's ankles to a set of slider cables that ran from her hips to the end of the table, allowing her client to set her legs where he wanted them positioned. Linda then put a muzzle on her, per the client's request.

“Open up and let me put the leather tabs between your teeth," she asked, putting the tabs into place so Ruth wouldn't grind her teeth. “I'm sorry that you have to be muzzled, hon. Your client is just one of those ass-wipes that fear a chimera's teeth."

“I undershtand," Ruth slurred out in reply, the leather muzzle making it hard for her to talk.

“I'm gonna put some locks on your muzzle straps so your client can't tighten them any further," the equine female stated, placing some small locks into the holes in the straps below the buckles, preventing the muzzle from being cinched down. “That can get very uncomfortable if they do that to you. At least you might get your black leather next week and then you'll be off this shit detail."

“Thank you, Ma'am," Ruth replied, turning her head to allow Linda to lock the strap that went around the back of her head.

“I'll make sure Tana comes and gets you unhooked if I'm not available."

Ruth nodded so Linda left to go to the front desk. On the way, she stopped and grabbed her black based tropical print slacks and a button up white blouse, making sure her name tag was fastened securely to the front of it. Not having a lot of time to get there, she changed in the elevator on the way down from the 2nd floor. Once the doors to the elevator opened, she observed Rita was waiting for her in the lobby, purse in hand.

“Thanks for doing this, Linda. Chuck said he would get a security guard to come back you up in a bit."

“Oh, no problems, Rita, I love working the counter. I like to see the strange looks from clients when they have to deal with a chimera behind the counter, asking questions about the type of sex they're looking for."

Linda looked up to see Mr. Waddell's Ford Excursion had been brought around for Rita to use so she sat down behind the front desk, setting up a set of release forms for the next client to come in as a walk-in customer.

***

Lisa Simmons was on her way to Chuck's private studio to introduce herself to him. She had obtained a very conservative 'Little Black Dress' to wear for the occasion, the color chosen to go with her new trainer's bands. She still was having trouble with walking through the place unfettered, though. It hadn't been that long since she had arrived but the regimen of Blue Hawaii had drilled this 'need for restraint' into her head.

She arrived at his studio on time, finding the door closed. She knocked on the door, momentarily hearing her boss bidding her to enter. Opening the door, she went to her boss and knelt down in front of him.

“Please stand up, Lisa," Chuck told her, waiting for her to stand back up. “Listen, I suppose Linda should have told you that you don't have to do that for me, now that you're a trainer."

“Thank you, Sir," she said quietly, bowing her head slightly.

“Lisa, look at me," he asked, frowning just slightly. He waited for her to look up at him before he continued. “Lisa, I guess working in a brothel your whole life has affected you more than I thought. Since you're now an extension of my will, you'll need to have some fire. The new Red Collar performers you will no doubt train will need to fear you, honey."

“Yes, Sir. I'll work on having some fire, Sir."

“Lisa, do you still have those plastic studs in place?" he asked, noting the outline of the bustline of her dress.

“Yes, Sir," she replied, obviously embarrassed.

Chuck led her over to a counter by his wall of 'toys' and had her stand by while he opened a lower cabinet to retrieve a tool and a small covered, compartmented bin. He motioned for her to lower her dress so he could carefully nip the studs through her nipple piercings and remove them. He opened up the bin and fished out a delicate pair of polished surgical stainless steel barbell studs for her. He gently inserted them, making sure the small ball ends were screwed on securely for her. He then lifted the front of her dress back up into place, slipping the straps back over her shoulders.

“Thank you, Sir," she said softly, giving him a kiss. “Those plastic ones weren't comfortable at all."

“Oh, really?" The boss seemed somewhat surprised by that information.

“Well, the heat pliers used to melt the ends to secure them burns your nipples, Sir. They also snag in your clothing, which hurts when a client pulls your clothes off of you roughly. It's not just me, either. I've heard this from the other girls, too."

“I see ..." Chuck mused, thinking about this situation. “Maybe I should have the staff put metal ones in to begin with instead of waiting until a performer gets her black leather."

“Sir, why does a female need her nipples pierced in the first place? I was never pierced until I began working here."

“Um, you know, I just don't have an answer for you," Chuck mused. “That's how it was done at Blue Diamond when I trained to run this place."

While they were talking, their meal arrived so they both sat down to a four course seafood and pasta dinner.

“Oh, Sir, this looks so good," the tigress stated, putting her napkin in her lap while their waiter put the plates on the table.

“I hope you enjoy it, Lisa. And please call me Chuck this evening."

***

The girls waited in Bill Waterman's van until they were alerted by security that Linda had a walk-in client at the desk. Knowing it would take her a while to process his information, they sprung their deception.

“Hi, Sweetie!" the real Trisha said to Linda as she walked in the lobby with Tigre, Bonnie and Joanne. “Gah, am I ever glad to be home for a change!" she added as she squeezed Linda's hand. “Um, you seem to be busy so I'll just take these girls to meet Mr. Waddell."

They walked around the corner, Trisha taking a moment to call the fake Tigre on her cellphone.

Linda looked up to see Trisha, Tigre and two other chimeras get off the elevator from the basement. They walked over to her, the short femme equine giving her a warm smile.

“Hi. Sweetie!" the impostor stated, squeezing the now-dumbstruck femme behind the counters' hand. “Gah, am I ever glad to be home for a change!"

“Uh, erm, I, Uh, ..." Linda didn't know what to say at this point.

“Um, you seem to be busy so I'll just take these girls to meet Mr. Waddell." The foursome walked around the corner, just in time for the real Trisha to get off the elevator from the second floor.

“Linda, did you see Tigre or any of the new employees come back through here?" she asked, giving her friend a crooked smile. The real Tigre came up from the basement, asking almost the same question.

“OK, something's going on here," Linda stated, looking at whom she thought to be Trisha with a strange look on her muzzle.

“What's going on here?" the counterfeit Trisha asked as she came around the corner with two foxes, two wolves and the impostor Tigre.

“OK, I give up," Linda finally stated, giving them all a crooked smile. “You can all just wait right there while I get this gentleman signed in."

Linda went through getting the new client set up with an account and making sure he knew where to find his 'date' for the evening. After a quick call to get a particular black collar performer taken to suite 532, she turned back to the females waiting for her.

“One of you is the real Trisha so I think I had better find out which one is which."

“Good Luck, Linda," Mace told her as he walked in the front door of the lobby. “I thought I knew Trisha quite well but these two have me stumped. One of them is actually Tracy Pierson." He kissed both of them, planting a very wet, sensual kiss on each one that left the two mares panting just a bit.

Linda had crept out from behind the counter with a scanner in hand. She read the CID of the buckskin female nearest her discreetly, looking at the display. She then quickly put a hospital-style ID wristband on her that was normally used on a guest that would be staying overnight with a performer.

“This one is Trisha," Linda pointed out, getting a big smile and a hug from her in return. “Okay, which one of you is Lynn Hunter?" she asked, looking at the two tigers to see if she could tell them apart.

“I'm Lynn," the one on the left replied, trying to keep from smiling. In fact, they were both trying to keep from smiling.

“I wouldn't bet on it," Bill Waterman said as he came out to see how it had went. “I was there when they dyed Millicent to match Tigre and now I can't tell them apart, either. One of them will have to ante up sooner or later so I can give her a guest suite for the night."

Linda scanned the tiger nearest her to find it wasn't Lynn. “This is the fake Tigre," she pointed out to Bill, letting him give her a pass card. “You're Nancy Lin, Mace's employee. I've met you before," she stated to one of the vixens as she moved through them, scanning them as she went. “You're Jenna, one of our performers," she said, causing Jenna to nod in reply. “I don't know who you two are, however."

“I'm Bonny Taylor," the vixen stated, giving Linda a hug. “I'm actually white in color, not this crazy lime green and purple. Your boss wants me to work in that Scottish pub he's setting up."

“I'm Joanne Carson," the wolfette admitted. “Jenna and I are both Golemtech Mark 14's. Same deal here; you boss wants to hire me for his pub."

“Yeah, if Mr. Waddell had bid a bit higher, Joanne would have been purchased at the same time as I was. I just didn't have as much to bid on myself as she did." Jenna proffered up. “The boss bid just about in between our bids."

***

The ladies had taken the time to get cleaned up and Tracy had decided to wash out the dye from her coat, leaving her leopard appaloosa coat shining from some of Trisha's conditioner. They had all went down to the staff cafeteria for a meal when Tracy spotted Hank Beck sitting at a table, finishing his dinner. She got her meal and went over to the table where he was sitting, hoping he would still remember her and maybe still have feelings for her, too.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?" she asked, setting her tray on the table.

“No, it isn't. Go ahead, please sit down," Hank replied, then looked up to see who it was. “Tracy?"

“Yeah, it's me," she replied, giving him a wide smile.

Oh My Gawd, Tracy!" he blurted out, getting up to give her a big hug and plant a big kiss on her. “I missed you so much! I had no idea you worked here or I would have come to see you sooner!"

“Well, I don't officially work here yet," she retorted, giving him a wet kiss in return. “Mr. Waddell wants me to tend bar in a pub he's putting together. Um, what are you doing here, if I may ask?"

“I was hired to do security," he admitted, holding her chair for her while she sat down. He sat back down with her, then continued his thoughts. “I'm glad Mr. Waddell hired me. I haven't had a steady job in three months so I was eating a lot of ramen or just going without. Gah, Hawaii is such a hard place for a chimera to make a living. I hate to say it but our kind were just so much cannon fodder for this war."

“I feel the same way, Hank." Tracy commented. “We were sent into places the human soldiers never went, knowing we might come back in a body bag, if at all. I know some squad commanders were just piling up the dead chimerae and burning them."

Hank frowned at that thought. “All I know is, if I can figure out a way to establish myself in a friendly state, I will." he shared with Tracy. “Mr. Waddell is nice and all but I need to be around people that aren't out to screw me over. I'm a war veteran so I deserve better than sleeping in the back of my truck."

“Don't you have a room here?" she asked, thinking this might not be such a good place after all.

“Uh, yeah, I do." he admitted. “What I meant was, the last job I had didn't pay enough to rent an apartment so I slept in the bed of my truck or all cramped up in the back seat of my rig if it was raining."

“You had me worried there for a minute," Tracy spoke up. “I was hoping the accommodations were better than the place where I was working last. That dump of a strip joint had an oversized closet they called a room that was part of my salary. It was so small I had to step out into the hallway just to change my mind."

“You worked in a strip joint?" he asked, looking somewhat stunned by that announcement.

“Um, yeah, I did," she replied. “I'm not proud of it but it kept me off the streets and kept me fed. At least the place was a real strip joint and not a thinly disguised brothel."

“Well, Tracy, this is a brothel, in case you haven't noticed," he commented, giving her a crooked smile.

“I know, but it's different." she countered. “At least here, you know it's a brothel. Those places in Brisbane were strip joints in the front, fuck palaces in the back. They didn't want the public to know about the brothel part because that was illegal in Brisbane."

***

Chuck Waddell had the tigress on his bed, showing her some very interesting knots. She was spread-eagled in the middle of his bed while he tightened the rope that was attached to her left wrist.

“Now do you see how this knot works?" he asked, pulling gently on the bitter end to snug that rope up. “It's a one way slip knot, so as your performer struggles, you just hold a little tension on it. She will do the work for you, the knot taking the slack out when she lets up in her struggles."

Lisa was letting the slack she held in her hand out a little at a time, allowing the rope to go taut to see how it worked.

“That is a very handy knot," she mused, letting him have a few more inches of slack, then pulling back to see that it wasn't giving.

“You should be able to get a performer snugged up in just a few moments with this knot," he stated, taking a little more slack out. “You set the ropes up beforehand, then attach three of them, getting them to the right length. Attach the fourth, then step back and pull gently."

“I will make good use of this particular knot, Chuck," she said with a smile.

“OK, let's go through using a muzzle," he said to her, unhooking her from the bed. “It's important you know how to put a muzzle on a girl correctly, so you don't hurt your performer."

“Um, Chuck ... it can't be that complicated, can it?" she mused, following him to his wall of toys.

“Yes it can, Lisa. If you don't apply a muzzle correctly, it will hurt your performer a great deal."

He took a muzzle from the wall, holding it up to her face to size it up. He then gave it to her, letting her look it over.

“If you don't pick the right size, the muzzle might not adjust far enough either way to accommodate your performer." he stated. “If you'll notice, it has 'UP' stamped on the top muzzle strap."

She hesitantly put it on, getting the tabs between her teeth. He then walked her through tightening up the straps, letting her adjust them to her liking. It kind of amazed him that she set the straps fairly tight.

“So, here's the problem," Chuck pointed out. “Your client is afraid of your teeth, but he still wants to kiss you and have you kiss back." He gave her a kiss on the lips, letting her see how it was. “Now, if you use a jaw spacer, you can kiss a lot better but your teeth aren't a factor any longer because your jaws are at a fixed opening. You're unable to bite your client."

“A jaw spacer?" she asked, looking at him strangely.

“Well, yeah. Here's a spacer that should fit you. Take off the muzzle, put the spacer in your mouth then put the muzzle back on."

Lisa did as she was asked, putting the spacer given to her into her mouth, a molded urethane device that sat behind her lower teeth, keeping a pair of small blocks in place between her molars. After the muzzle was put back on, Chuck kissed her again, letting her see that it was almost like she wasn't wearing a muzzle at all except her jaw was held at a fixed opening.

“I invented that device but Blue London is the only other Blue facility that uses them." her boss proffered up.

“I don't see why they don't use this," she commented, noting it didn't interfere very much with her talking.

“I have to tell you this; the reason they don't use them is this place is a maverick operation according to Blue." he stated. “I just don't go in for beating the living shit out of a girl to get her to comply. I prefer a happy, willing performer and I only allow the whip to be used as a last resort, and even at that, sparingly. I think Linda and Patricia were some of the last performers that felt the bite of a hard whip before I stopped using that method of breaking. Anymore, if twenty stripes can't get a girl's attention, we put her to work in a somewhat unpleasant setting to gently persuade her to give in to the program."

“Um, Chuck, who is this Blue I keep hearing about?" she asked, somewhat confused by this.

He led her back over to the bed, making her lay back down so he could hook up the ropes again. He carefully snugged them, then slipped off his briefs and got in between her legs. He rested his manhood right on top of her clit, making her moan in response.

“Blue is a computer driven A __rtificial I_ ntelligence_ that was granted sentient status," he told her, giving her a kiss afterward. “He was the one that thought up the idea of the Blue Consortium of Brothels for their money making potential."

He kissed the tigress again, slipping downward just slightly so his cock was right at the entrance to her love hole. She flexed her leg muscles, making him begin to enter her.

“Blue is still pissed off because I firewalled his virtual ass out of here." Chuck added, seeing a smile spread across her muzzle. “So, you think that's funny?"

“I do, Chuck. The creator firewalled out of his own creation," she mused, trying to work her hips to get her boss into her further. She was secured well enough that she couldn't do much at all.

“Well, I suppose I should get down to business here," he told her, beginning to stroke into her slowly, making her moan loudly in response.

“You are sooo ... oooh!" she moaned out, finally realizing he had been holding onto the bitter ends of the ropes attached to her wrists. He had carefully tightened up her bondage while she was distracted, to the point she could no longer move.

“Are you enjoying this?" he asked, kissing her deeply again.

“I'm totally unable to move," she mused, kissing him on the chin.

“The real question is, are you comfortable?" he asked.

“Well, yeah, I'm not being hurt and you are pleasuring me deeply," she replied breathily, kissing him again.

“So just lay there and enjoy my ministrations," he told her, picking up the pace a bit. “We have all evening to enjoy one another's company."

***

Hank had accompanied Tracy to her room, a temporary suite on the first floor until she could sign her work contract and be issued a permanent residence.

“Well, this room isn't as big as mine," he mused, closing the door behind them. “I guess it's because it's a temporary guest room."

“If you want to see a big room, you should see my sister Patty's suite. Her closet is bigger than this place," she offered up, bouncing on the bed to test it out.

“You have a sister?" he asked carefully. This was news to him.

“Well duh, silly!" she replied with a big smile. “Patricia Pollard is my younger sister, since her serial number is one higher than mine. We're both 87H's."

“And she works here as a performer?"

“Oh hell no, she's a tamer now," the spotted female pointed out. “Her suite is on the second floor, room 288."

“Hmm, I wonder what your sister is like?" Hank mused. “Maybe I'll run across her here some day."

“Let me call her suite and see if she's in. I would like for her to meet you." Tracy told him. She went to the comm panel by the door, reading the instructions on how to use the system. Guessing that she could just substitute Trisha's room number for the front desk's 000, she punched in the number and waited.

***

Trisha and Mace were watching television and munching some popcorn, just trying to unwind. The equine femme was snuggled up against her lover, using his shoulder for a pillow. They were both startled by the comm panel in the lamp table buzzing at them, announcing a call.

“Who would be calling me this way?" she mused, looking at the display to see it was a call from guest quarters. “Trisha," she said after pressing the 'Talk' button, answering the call.

“Patty, this is Tracy. Can I bring my friend up to meet you?" the spotted femme on the other end asked.

“Um, sure, I guess. Mace and I are just watching television." the buckskin femme replied.

“OK, we'll be up in just a minute," Tracy told her sister, grabbing Hank's hand and literally dragging him out the door to meet the female that Tracy shared her genetic makeup with.

***

Hank was feeling just a little uneasy about meeting Tracy's sister chimera. There was something to this that he felt was odd so he was playing it cool. They got off the elevator and headed for Trisha's suite, the pair getting lost just once. Finally arriving at the suite in question, Tracy knocked on the door.

“Tracy?" Trisha asked as she opened the door slowly, keeping her hoof in a position to wedge it if need be.

“Patty, It's me, Tracy. Gah, are you still jumpy?" the spotted femme asked as she waited for her sister to open the door fully.

“I'm sorry, Tracy, Linda and Sarah were abducted just like this," she pointed out. “The bastards that snagged them waited until they opened their doors to rush them, gag them and hogtie their arms and legs."

“I guess I see your view on that," Tracy stated. “Well, anyway, this is Hank Beck. We knew each other when we were stationed in Afghanistan. Hank, this is my sister Patricia Pollard and her lover Mace Alexander," she said, introducing the huge male to Trisha and Mace.

“Hello Patricia, Mr. Alexander," the tall pale one bid, offering his hand to Mace. He then hugged Tracy's sister politely.

“Um, are you an IMT design?" Trisha asked Hank.

“Yeah, I'm a 17AW," he replied. “You know, you and Tracy sound just alike."

“We do not sound alike!" the two females blurted out at the same time, creating that weird stereo effect again.

“No, ladies, you both will have to face it. You both sound alike because you're from the same genetic material." Mace offered up.

“Well, Okay, I suppose you're right," Trisha finally admitted.

Hank was curious about the goings-on here at Blue Hawaii so he asked Trisha a question.

“So, what is it you do here?" he asked, seeming to be quite interested.

“Hank, I work as a Tamer here. My primary job is to break the will of the hard cases as gently as possible and to put on 'Reinforcement Lesson' shows with them." she replied. “Would you like to see how that works?"

Hank was giving thought to that, since he would be working here in the morning. It would be nice to know a little bit about the operations beforehand.

“Sure, I would like that," he replied.

***

Trisha had her personal attachment gear sent to training 145 by a text message to Equipment Management, then she started to give her sister and her sister's lover the rundown on the methods used at Blue Hawaii. She went to her private equipment closet and extracted a collar and leash.

“First, unless the female is in the dorm area, she must be restrained in some manner, be it a leash or hobbles. We'll use a leash for now." Before Tracy could stop her, Trisha had the collar on her sister and was attaching the leash. “These lock closed with a magnetic lock, so you need a special key to get it back off. Hank, I'm sure Bill gave you a key like this one." She held up the odd-looking bar-shaped key.

“Patty! Let me have that key!" the spotted one blurted out, sounding just a little panicked.

“OK, but you can't use it just yet," Trisha replied. “I'll let you put it around your neck, just so you know you have it in your possession."

“I guess that's alright," Tracy commented, taking the key from her sister and putting the lanyard around her neck. “Now what are we going to do?"

“Let's go to Training 145 so I can continue this lesson." Trisha told them.

They went down a flight of stairs to the proper room, finding a man dropping off a small cabinet by a training frame.

“Hi, Calvin!" Trisha said cheerily. “I want you to meet my lover Mace Alexander, my sister Tracy Pierson and Hank Beck. Hank is a new hire in security and my sister will be working that pub the boss is putting together. Mace, Tracy, Hank, this is Calvin Lego, Bill Waterman's assistant."

They politely introduced each other around, then Calvin left to take care of other needs.

“When I first started working here, the current laws to protect the performers hadn't went into effect yet. Linda and I were beaten and whipped pretty badly until Chuck finally decided it just wasn't worth it." she told them. “Now, I'm only allowed to lay twenty actual stripes on a performer a day, one hundred total a week, and those just barely break the skin. It might look like I'm flogging a girl over and over but the rest of the strikes are barely felt, if at all." She looked down at the floor as she said, “I'm not a big fan of whipping another girl, either. I can do it if I have to, but I prefer not to."

“So, um, how does this work?" Tracy asked, looking at the combination anchor/spreader bar she had picked up.

“I guess you can stand in for me," Trisha mused, taking the wrist cuffs out of the top drawer of the cabinet. “Here, hold out your hand," she asked, putting the band around her wrist. Because they were twins in a way, the fit was just perfect. She then put the rest of the attachment gear on her sister.

“Now this stuff is all custom made to be form-fit so the performer won't get hurt by it." Trisha told them. Mace put a chair behind Tracy at Trisha's direction so she could sit down while his lover continued with her lesson. “Tracy, help me by holding this up," she asked, putting some pintle locks through the spreader bar and the ankle bands. “Now I attach this to the floor so the performer can't move around." She used a hand-tightened fastener to anchor the bar firmly in place to the floor.

“Gawd, Patty! I can't hardly move my hooves at all!" the appaloosa filly mused as she tentatively tested her bonds.

“That's the idea," she replied as she lowered the cables from the top of the frame. “Now, the trainer would attach these cables to her charge." Trisha pointed out. “Once they're fastened, I usually help my charge to stand, then winch the cables up tight."

“You're not gonna make them too tight, are you?" Tracy asked, getting just a little apprehensive.

“Sis, you trust me, don't you?"

“Yeah, I trust you, Patty."

“Then what are you worrying about? Loosen up a little!"

Trisha attached the cabling, then helped her sister to stand. She carefully tightened the cables, making sure the spotted one wasn't in discomfort.

“OK, then. Now that Tracy is stationary, more or less, I have her undivided attention in the matter." Trisha proffered up. “Normally, a new girl is generally struggling at this point, since she has no idea what's going to happen next. They usually freak out when I take my whip from its carrier." Trisha did so, making her sister speak up.

“Patty, you're not gonna whip me, are you?" she asked, biting her bottom lip afterward in fear.

“No, I wasn't gonna whip you!" she replied, giving her sister a kiss. “I've felt the sting of the whip enough times for both of us." she explained as she let the cables back down and unhooked the spotted one. “Before the laws went into effect, someone grabbed me, hooked me up to this very training frame and whipped me over five hundred times. It almost killed me."

“Oh Shit ..." Tracy blurted out. “That's scary, Patty."

“Well, it's amazing how much trauma drugs they can give you," Trisha proffered up. “Linda said I reeked of them while I was recovering."

“When I had my RF unit damaged by a grenade, they gave me multiple doses of T-Thirty-three-X in the medivac helicopter on the way to the field hospital." Hank told them. “They were trying to keep me from bleeding out, I was amping myself with amphetamines to stay awake and a technician was holding a blood staunching pad to my head," he continued, moving his forelocks to show the rather prominent scar on his forehead. “All I could smell for a while was the T-Thirty-three-X."

“When I was shot up, it was the same thing. All I could smell was the T-Thirty-three-X trauma drugs." Tracy admitted. “Anymore, just the smell of it makes me sick to my stomach."

“We use Bayer T-Fifty-one-A now, since it doesn't cause your body to build up a dependency to it." Linda offered up as she came into the room. She had been contacted earlier by Trisha to meet with them. They all exchanged pleasantries then Trisha decided to have Linda give them a show.

“Um, would you help me show Tracy and Hank how a show works?"

Linda thought it over briefly, then agreed to help out. They quickly removed the attachment gear from Tracy, then Trisha stripped down and put on the attachment items. In just a few moments, she was secured firmly to the frame with her tail tied out of the way between her legs with a strap.

“Just so everyone knows, I'm not going to break the skin or intentionally leave a welt," The taller equine femme stated. “Trisha will perform for you, showing you just how an experienced 'dancer' can make it look like she's being torn to shreds when she's not being hurt. Do you all understand this?"

Everyone hesitantly nodded, Mace outwardly showing his apprehension. Trisha noticed this and called him over.

“Mace, hold me and kiss me so I know you trust us." she asked. He held her tightly, noting she was very relaxed. She kissed him, a deep, sensuous kiss then nuzzled against his cheek. “Sweetie, I'll be just fine. Linda won't hurt me."

Linda walked up to Mace and took his hands in hers, looking him square in the eyes.

“Mace, you have to understand, Trisha was my lover long before you came along. I love her way too much to intentionally hurt her." the palomino filly explained. “Over the years here, I have only laid a stripe on her when it was needed by the show and we have both agreed upon where it would be placed. We have always used a topical analgesic beforehand to make sure it didn't hurt very much and our med-techs were always right there to tend to her after the show."

“Trisha, is this true?" Mace asked.

“Linda has only cut me deep once, back when I was a red collar performer and totally by accident." she replied. “We were doing a late show and a drunken customer threw a handful of change onto the stage, causing her to slip. She was going to lightly strike the top of my shoulder for the 'crowd pleaser' so it went deep when she fell forward."

Linda then added a few more facts to the story.

“We had to call the show off early because I sprained my wrist when I fell down. Trisha really wanted to continue but I had to call it. I was in too much pain and she was bleeding pretty badly. I felt bad about it for a long time afterward." Linda admitted. “Mace, maybe I need to show you just how much control I have over my whip. Put a coin in your hand, palm up."

Mace did as he was asked, putting a quarter in his left hand, holding it up level. He was shaking just a bit as the filly backed up, getting her distance right.

“Um, Mace, maybe you better put your fingertips against the frame to steady them." Linda suggested.

Mace did so, steadying his hand. Linda then pulled back and with a flick of her wrist, pulled the coin off his palm deftly with the tip of her whip, leaving the male with an astonished look on his face.

“I didn't even feel it!" he exclaimed, looking down at the coin laying by his feet.

“Well, hold your hand out, palm facing me," Linda asked. “This will totally amaze you."

Trisha's lover did as Linda asked, gritting his teeth. His face got a very confused look on it when Linda barely touched it with her whip, the sensation being like a feather touching him.

“That is amazing!" he mused, looking at the taller filly.

“Now here's the deal," Linda told them. “Let's pretend Trisha is a new red collar performer, not trained to dance to the whip. She has to be secured firmly so when I whip her, I know exactly where she is so I won't cut her up."

“You'll never see us whip an unsecured performer." Trisha offered up. “As a policy from the boss man, we never strike the genitals, ever. We just refrain from telling that tidbit to the new girls at first."

“So, Trisha will do her best to make you believe she's being torn apart but I can guarantee you she's not being hurt," Linda stated, giving Trisha a kiss. “Are you ready?" she asked, waiting for an answer.

“Um, sure, go ahead. Fifth one's a crowd pleaser." Trisha replied.

Linda paced off her distance, getting her mind ready for this. She then flicked her wrist, striking Trisha in the small of the back. Right on cue, the buckskin female began screaming, continuing to shriek and curse as her partner in this demonstration hit her in various places, making it look very real. Every fifth strike was rewarded by a louder shriek from the bound filly, just as agreed. Eventually she went from screaming to laughing, causing Linda to stop and giggle herself.

“Linda! That tickled!" Trisha blurted out, hanging her head as she laughed almost uncontrollably. “You know my butt cheeks are ticklish!"

“That tickled?" Mace asked, looking at Linda, who was rolling up her whip.

“I was trying my best to just barely graze the sides of her butt," Linda replied with a slight grin on her muzzle.

“Well, now I know," Trisha's lover mused.

“Mace!" Trisha said loudly, looking at the smile on his face. “You just forget what you just heard!"

“I will not!" he told her with a devilish grin.

“Mace, it's right here," Linda proffered up, touching the buckskin filly lightly on the flanks with a gently touch, making Trisha laugh loudly. “You don't need to be rough, either. A feather or a fingernail will do just fine."

“Linda, you are so in trouble with me!" Trisha informed her close friend between laughing fits.

“I wouldn't have it any other way," Linda replied, kissing Trisha on the neck.

“You know, that did look very real," Tracy commented, helping Linda to unbind her sister. Hank just nodded, agreeing in full with his lover.

“You have to realize, I'm a trained performer so I know how to do this," Trisha told them after she got her composure back. “A new girl would actually be whipped but just a few of them would be 'break the skin' stripes to get her attention. After that, we can usually reason with them and get them on the right road here."

***