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Know-it-all Manhattanut, Keith, stranded in Montreal.
Anna nodded. "You did well."
A leg was freed, but before she could kick, Auntie K held it firmly for one so old in appearance, while Mama San began to roll a length of hose up the girl's smooth leg. The leg was retied and the next leg clothed in hose. Thigh-high, white, silky, lacey edges. Shawn closed her eyes when she felt the old woman's hand smoothing up and down the length of the hose. "This nice, nice and slutty."
They brought out a pair of boots that came above Shawn's knees, and each in turn was placed on a leg so that the hose peeked over the top, lace above leather, innocence above sin. Now the arms were freed, yet held, and a short jacket placed on her, and then she was tied again. The jacket was leather, black, matching the boots. It smelled good yet frightened Shawn. It was left open, made to hang that way, coming just below the shoulder blades, barely covering her breasts. A collar placed around her neck with a D ring at the front; short black gloves made from black leather that was soft were placed on her hands. She clenched them into fists, trying the cuffs again.
Mama San was not pleased. She snapped her fingers at Auntie K, who scurried away and returned with a small cedar box. She opened it and held it out to Mama San.
"You try get away! You not stay still! You be punished," snapped Mama San fiercely. She showed Shawn a clover clamp, opening it and shutting it, smiling evilly the whole time. She threaded a chain through the girl's ring collar, hooked each end to a clamp. She pinched the girl's nipples with her fingernails, making Shawn arch her back in pain. "Good," said Mama San. The clamp was placed on the nipple with a snap. It was meant to hurt, and it did. The other nipple was tortured by the old fingernails, then it, too, was placed in the clover clamp's cruel embrace. The chain was short enough that each time the girl moved her head back even a little, it tugged painfully at the clamps. She did just this without meaning to when she felt something cold between her legs. She lifted her head again, watching. Mama San had a bowl of something, and a brush. She was dabbing it on the girl's crotch.
Mama San held up the bowl and grinned. She had few teeth. "This ginger. My own secret recipe!" she cackled. Auntie K chuckled and wheezed. She patted Shawn's stomach lightly while Mama San pulled out one lip, then the other, daubing the spicy liquid onto the girl, rubbing it in. It burned. Shawn took a deep breath and her head went back again when she felt the brush go just inside her, felt the juice trickle in, felt the burning.
"We train you," said Mama San. "We train you to be good slut."
"Nobody know her now," said Auntie K. She rarely spoke. Mama San hissed angrily at her, nodding at the girl, but Shawn did not seem aware of what had been said. She was pulling at the wrist cuffs. Her arms overhead and bent backwards made it hard to breathe. Her stomach was sucked in. She felt so open and vulnerable.
After a few more minutes, Mama San seemed satisfied.
"How long will it take?" asked Anna. Anna had a very cultured, rich voice. It was soothing and chilling at the same time. It lacked emotion.
Mama San shrugged. "Maybe day, maybe two. We wait, do it again, hmm, few hour." Anna nodded.
The burning continued, with a warmth spreading. Mama San leaned over Shawn's face. "You feel that girl? You feel?" Shawn stared at her with her purple eyes. "Soon you pussy burn, soon you be a good slut."
Mama San stood up. She nodded at Auntie K, who produced the cedar box again.
Anna stood and came to the table. "Try this one," she said, pointing with a polished nail in the box.
Mama San cackled. She held up a small silver thing and showed it to Shawn, who didn't understand what it meant.
The old woman reached down, grasped Shawn's clit, pinched it and pulled it up.