The Rose Garden 7

The rising sun followed the special volunteers and their sacrificial victim as they returned to the glade in the jungle where Beth had first experienced pain with pleasure, as Riff and I had planned. The rope and pulley were still there on the overhanging limb. The padded bondage bench was still there waiting for a victim’s wrist and ankle manacles.

Between them stood the final test of Beth’s sexual endurance, a bondage table engineered with moveable segments, a fiendish device for binding and displaying any part of a naked woman’s body for abuse and sexual pleasure.

The table looked innocent enough, like a massage table. It was fashioned solely of metal, wood, and padding, no servo motors or electrical parts. The segments that formed the top moved by mechanical means: slides, hinges, levers, and the like. The central pedestal could be cranked up and down with a simple foot pedal.

The top was padded like the whipping bench and could be tilted in any direction and spun completely in a circle. Padded sliding extensions provided rests and anchors for wrists and ankle cuffs. The extensions were set in pairs on hinges so they could be swung wide to extend the victim’s arms and legs away from her body. The locking ball joint also allowed the operator to raise or lower the extensions to raise or lower arms or legs and thus provide access to any specific part of the victim’s body for punishment.

Brian and I led the column of special volunteers in a circle around the bondage table and bid them sit on rush mats. Andrea and Jill had gone ahead of the group to heat food over an open fire. As soon as Beth was seated on a mat, they served her a bowl of nourishing broth with fresh bread. The broth was hot, rich, and spicy, and Beth consumed it greedily.