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I awakened Saturday morning alone in bed, glanced at the clock and was shocked to see it was after ten. My ankle cuff was still attached to the foot of the bed. I had to pee. “Mistress Kelly!” I called. I soon heard footsteps.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” I expected Kelly, of course, so was somewhat surprised to see Sam, naked, except for the ever-present collar, walking through the doorway.
“Sam, what are you doing here?”
“You didn’t know it, but we were supposed to go pick up some costumes this morning, but…”
“Costumes?” I interrupted.
“Yes, for the Renaissance Faire. Miss Kelly said she mentioned it to you. I’m not permitted to say anything else. Now, as I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me, Miss Kelly knew how exhausted you were, so she decided to let you sleep. Miss Kelly and Mistress Allyson are selecting our costumes without us. It doesn’t matter because we wouldn’t have had much choice about what we are going to wear anyhow.” This comment was said in jest, but we both knew it was true. “Personally, I’d rather be here with you. Now, what can I do for you, sleeping beauty?”
“I have to pee. Can you unlock the chain, Sam?”
“Actually, that is why I am here. Miss Kelly didn’t want you to be alone since you were still chained to the bed. I was given permission to free you so you can perform your morning ritual, then we are to prepare breakfast. And you must remember to address me properly, kimmy, or I will be obligated to inform Miss Kelly.”
“I forgot. Miss Samantha. I am sorry.”
“That is OK, Kimmy. You are still learning. Sam is OK, when you are not under my control.”
Sam stayed with me in the bathroom and talked to me while I performed my absolutions and showered. I joked with her about how sensitive I used to be when anyone saw me naked. I even avoided the community showers in the girls’ locker room at school. Now it almost seemed like the normal thing to do. After I dried off, she locked my leather collar and cuffs back on.
Sam sat the table for four places, as Kelly had directed, while I mixed the ingredients for omelets and sliced fruit. We finished our preparations just as Allyson and Kelly returned, so I immediately started cooking the omelets. After we ate, Sam and I cleaned the table and the kitchen. Soon, Kelly advised us that it was time to dress. Sam and I would first assist one another, then our mistresses.
When Kelly first mentioned that we were going to attend the Renaissance Faire this weekend, I commented that I had seen advertisements about it, but thought it was to start the next weekend. The Faire was quite elaborate, as I had learned. It was started as a one-shot affair twenty years earlier by a group interested in the “Middle Ages.” It went so well they purchased a section of land several miles outside of town and built a permanent village like what one might expect to see in “Merry Olde England.” Several thousand people now work as residents, shopkeepers, etc., for eight weekends each year to create the realism of the era and nearly and nearly one quarter of a million attend each season. To explain my confusion on the date, Kelly explained that each year the Faire held a “private weekend” prior to the actual opening for select groups that were involved in D/s. She said The Venus Coitre was one of those invited groups. She also they had purchased tickets for the four of us to the daily Medieval Banquet that was held mid-afternoon. The park closed at dusk.
The “costumes,” our mistresses had selected for Sam and me were off-white, short sleeve, floor length Victorian style dresses, complete with waist-nipping underbust corsets. I could see that these corsets were very period specific, unlike the one I had purchased at the Foundation store. They closed with a busk in the front and laced up the back. Steel boning replaced the whale boning that would have been used during that period of history. Kelly insisted mine had to be laced as tight as possible. I had more of an “hour glass figure,” when Sam finished, than with my own corset and I could barely breathe. I returned the “favor” when it was Sam’s turn to dress, of course. The underbust style, by definition, did not cover our breasts. As one might expect, the dresses had bodices with scoop necklines that exposed the upper portion of our breasts.
When I mentioned that my dress and Sam’s looked a little shabby, Kelly remarked, “That’s all a servant in the middle ages could afford, my pet. We wanted you to look authentic.” Ribbons replaced garters to hold our white cotton stockings high on our thighs. Since we were poor waifs, our mistresses had decided that we could not even afford undergarments other than the corsets. Personally, I thought bloomers would be less expensive than the corsets, but who was I to question my mistress.
Completing the style were black, flat-style shoes that were held on with laces tied around the ankle. Our collars were not age authentic, but they completed our costumes. I would have bursa evi olan escort felt naked without mine, and knew Sam felt the same. I assumed they replaced a ribbon that a girl would have worn back then.
Kelly’s and Allyson’s costumes were like ours except that theirs, in colored satin, blue for Kelly and red for Allison, were more in line with ladies of aristocracy, as compared to the pale cotton Sam and I wore. Their corsets had full bras and were not laced nearly as tight. In addition, the bodice of the dresses had high, lace necklines and they wore Victorian style camisoles and bloomers. They also had petticoats but decided not to wear them because they would be too warm. Wide brim hats completed their outfits while we wore the caps of a maid.
Before we left the house, Kelly removed my collar and Allyson removed Sam’s, “because we were going to be in public,” they said.
I was amazed at the facilities when we entered the Faire site. The buildings were very representative of what I had seen in pictures and movies of the Shakespearean era, and not mere facades. As we walked around, I felt as though I had been transported four hundred years back in time. As promised, the “residents” and shopkeepers’ accents and demeanor made one feel that one might see the Bard himself walking around the corner at any moment.
Even though Kelly had told me that I would see all variations of D/s, I was surprised when I saw a male leading another male down the street at the end of a leash. Then, just around the corner, a female had a half-naked male on his knees and was verbally admonishing him. This, of course, wasn’t typical of the middle ages. At least I don’t think it was. Maybe I need to break out my history books again. Seeing these displays of “submission,” made me wonder why Kelly and Allyson was worried about us wearing our collars in public.
Dinner was certainly different. The utensils we used were unusual, and fingers were required more often than not. After eating, we strolled through more of the village and through the shops. Walking down the street, I heard a woman behind me shouting loudly. When I turned, I saw that she was pointing and running towards me. “There she is, sheriff! That’s her!”
The woman accompanying her was wearing an oversized badge that had the word Sheriff written across it. She approached me and said, “Excuse me, ma’am, but Edna, here, says you lifted a bracelet from her shop.” I was shocked and vehemently denied her allegation. My three companions agreed, after which she said, “Then you don’t mind if I search you.”
“That depends on what you want to search,” I joked.
“I saw her put it in her right pocket,” stated the woman emphatically.
“Then we should begin with your pockets,” the sheriff said.
“I didn’t even know my dress had pockets,” I replied, smiling. The smile quickly left my face when I slid my hand inside the right pocket and felt something. When I removed my hand, I was holding a bracelet.
“See, sheriff, that’s the bracelet I described to you,” the woman said.
“Ma’am, I am going to have to take you in.After I was handcuffed with a pair of age-appropriate cuffs, Kelly asked, incredulously, “kimmy, how could you?”
“My Mistress, I swear I didn’t take it.”
“Oh, I believe you, kimmy, but you will need a good lawyer. Then to the sheriff she asked, “Where are you taking her?”
“We have a holding cell off the square just for situations like this. They happen every year,” she answered. I was beginning to suspect something fishy was going on. Still, a tear ran down my cheek as she led me away and Kelly didn’t follow. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Although the “jail” was also appropriate for the setting, I will admit to being quite scared when the door of the cell clanged shut. The extremely small room was dark and dank with a dirt floor. Adding to my humiliation, the sheriff did not remove the handcuffs.
About ten minutes later, the sheriff and another woman approached. “I am the solicitor your friends hired,” the woman said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied with some trepidation.
“Well, my name is Ms. Smythe. The judge is waiting. As soon as the sheriff takes down your personal information for the record, we will go to the courtroom. I must warn you that defendants are strictly forbidden to speak before the court. The judge today is very strict and could throw you in jail for contempt if you even mutter, so let me do all the talking.” I acknowledged this fair warning.
The sheriff asked if I had any identification. When I replied, “No,” she said I would need to have some delivered before I could be released. I knew Kelly would have it, so I was not worried. The sheriff wrote down the personal information I gave her and opened the door to the cell.
The female judge, wearing a powdered wig, was seated in the front of the courtroom when we entered. I immediately noticed the gallery was full of onlookers. altıparmak escort I was led to the front, the charge was read, and the judge asked for my plea. I looked at my lawyer who replied, “Since my client was caught red-handed with the bracelet in her pocket, your honor, she pleads guilty.”
“That’s not true!” I screamed. “I did not steal it!”
The judge struck the bench with her gavel. “Silence, wench! I will not accept outbursts like that in my courtroom. Any more and I will charge you with contempt!”
“I’m sorry, but you are violating my constitutional rights!” I yelled.
The gavel struck again. “Silence I said! These are the middle ages. You have no constitutional rights. You are now in contempt. You will be sentenced immediately!”
“I warned you,” my lawyer muttered. “She even gave you a second chance, much to my surprise, and you still screwed it up.”
I quickly realized that this was a Kangaroo court and just for show. I almost laughed that I hadn’t realized it earlier. There was no way that it could be anything else.
Once my fear had dissipated somewhat, I sensed that the small room we were in had filled with more spectators. I looked around and saw that my “friends” were even there. The rapping of the judge’s gavel brought me back from my detachment.
“You will look at me when I am talking to you, wench!”
“I was asking if you wanted to apologize to Mrs. Smythe for stealing that bracelet, and to the court for your outburst.”
She was trying to be so serious and I was now laughing on the setup. I decided to see what would happen if I did not play along. With a grin on my face I replied, “I will apologize to the court, but I did not steal that bracelet. How can I possibly apologize for something I didn’t do?”
“Your sentence will reflect the seriousness of your crime and your obvious failure to be contrite. One would think you would give the court your full attention during this phase of your trial. I expect a defendant to show some remorse and accept responsibility for her actions. Since you obviously will do neither, your sentence will be carried out immediately. You are to be divested of all clothing and taken to the town square where you will spend one hour chained to the carcan, followed by one hour on the wooden horse. Finally, because I found you in contempt of court, after you are released from the wooden horse, I sentence you to wear an iron yoke and leg irons until dusk. I will provide specifications to the smithy.”
The judge pointed her gavel at me and said, “One more word out of that mouth, wench and I will keep you in irons for twenty-four hours.”
I looked at Kelly who simply shrugged her shoulders. It was obvious she did not intend to help me. Now I was somewhat miffed at her. No, I was extremely pissed.
Two women, badges pinned to their vests, immediately approached. The older one spoke, “The sheriff had to leave, dearie. We are her deputies and have been assigned to carry out your sentence. I am Mrs. Abernathy, and this is my assistant Mrs. Barnes.”
I called to Kelly for help. She simply shrugged her shoulders once again and grinned. I then turned to Ms. Abernathy. “This really is a joke, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid not, my dear.”
“But…,” I began.
“You know that today the Faire is not open to the general public, don’t you?” I nodded. “Then you must know that one of the conditions of entry was that you accepted anything that might happen.”
“No! I didn’t. My Mis… my friend bought my ticket for me. I didn’t agree to anything.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter. The conditions were printed on the back of your ticket. You accepted them when you entered our village. Therefore, you are required to complete your sentence. You know what they say: ‘Ignorance of the law is no excuse.'” Then the two of them started laughing. ‘Cackling’ would be a more appropriate word for the sound coming from their mouths. That pissed me off even more, if that were possible.
I opened my mouth to protest again but the deputy interrupted. “Come on, wench. We don’t have all day. The judge said you had to get rid of those clothes to carry out your sentence. I’ll remove the cuffs long enough for you to strip.”
“What if I refuse?”
“Look, dearie. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, and I don’t think you want the hard way. Now, do you want me to remove the cuffs so you can do it the easy way?”
“Yes, please.” I replied meekly.
Extremely upset with the way Kelly was, basically ignoring me, I started to wonder if she was testing me. “I can play her game,” I thought. “If she expects me to safe word out of this, she had better think again. I’ll show her I can take it. The irresistible force has just met the immovable object.”
I took a deep breath and started to remove my dress. I don’t think a single person had left the gallery. I had been naked in front of a crowd in Lisa’s, of course, gemlik escort but this was much different. I didn’t need to look around the courtroom to see how many eyes were glaring at me. I could feel each pair eagerly waiting the most embarrassing moment of my life. I thought back about telling Sam how I was beginning to feel “normal” when naked in front of others. This is not what I had meant.
When I removed the dress, a cacophony of whispers and jeers came from my audience because of my lack of undergarments, except for the corset, that is. The deputy had her own comments, “Ooh, look at her rings, Mildred. The judge was right, she really is a wench. Surprisingly this comment only increased my resolve to be brave. “They aren’t going to get the best of this woman,” I thought. I was now pleased I had been permitted to wear so few articles of clothing. Disrobing would be quicker, although I had to ask for assistance in unlacing the corset. However, as soon I mentioned this to Mrs. Abernathy, the judge rapped her gavel on the podium several times, saying, “Quiet in the courtroom.” With a supercilious grin she announced, “Now that I see what the wench was wearing under her dress, I will change my sentence. I think her public will enjoy her punishment on the carcan more if she does not remove any more of her slutty clothes. However, she will be naked when riding the horse. Please continue with your assignment, Mrs. Abernathy.”
“Gawd, I thought, “I’ll really look like a slut going out there half clothed. Could my humiliation be any worse?
Turning to her assistant, she said, “The yoke, Mildred.” I watched Mildred walk to the wall and pick up what appeared to piece of wood about three feet long and an inch thick. When she returned, I saw that it had a large hole in the center and two small holes near the ends. Except for its shape, wide in the center and narrow at the ends, it looked like a set of stocks. While Mildred held one end of the yoke, Ms. Abernathy grasped the other end, released a hasp and pulled the yoke apart. I hadn’t noticed that it was hinged on the end opposite the hasp. Following her instructions, I raised my hands while they lowered the instrument down over my head and wrists. When it was closed and a lock was slipped through the hasp, I realized that I was in a new form of bondage. Finally, Mildred knelt and locked a short chain around my ankles. “Do you think we should make use of that ring between her legs, Mildred?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. We definitely should.” I watched dumbfounded as Ms. Abernathy tied the end of a rope to my clit ring. Seeing my ID tag, she exclaimed, “Oh, lookie here! This thing says our wench is someone’s property. Well, now, we must not abuse her too much, must we?” More cackles, that I didn’t appreciate, followed. A tug on the rope left no doubt that I was to follow. So, there I was, captive in the yoke, hobbled by the chain around my ankles, nearly naked, being led out of the courtroom to be paraded down the street to the public square. I was both embarrassed and even more pissed at the whole situation, although it didn’t really matter. My fate was sealed, and Kelly wasn’t doing a fucking thing to help me.
Imagine my continued surprise when my escorts led me up a ramp and into a cage that sat on a wagon. “At least I don’t have to walk to the square,” I sarcastically thought. I did have to stand, though, because it was less than 2 feet square and about six feet high. As they paraded me through the streets of the town, I think every single person came out to watch and yell unkind superlatives at me.
In less than fifteen minutes, I was standing next to the carcan. Trust me when I say that I had never heard of a carcan before this point in my life. Kelly later told me that both my punishment devices were based on two at the Fortress at Louisbourg in Nova Scotia. She also told me that there are two types of carcans. One resembles a pillory or stocks. The other, like the one next to me, is a tall post with a large ring near the top. The person being punished is chained to this ring usually in some additional form of bondage and held up to public ridicule. The yoke was removed, my hands cuffed behind my back and an iron ring locked around my neck. The ring was connected to the carcan with a heavy chain. For the next hour, I was on display for an ever-changing group of people. Ok, I must admit that there was something sexually simulating about being on display in this manner.
Two things continued to trouble me: First, I suddenly realized that there was a distinct possibility that someone from my company could walk by and would recognize me; secondly, I was staring at my other nemesis, “the horse”, only ten feet away. My “guides” had pointed it out to me. It was made of wood, about six feet long, built in the shape of a carpenter’s horse. Only, in this case, the top was about five feet off the ground and was pointed at the top, rather than flat. I could already feel that point cutting into my pussy. I was positive I wouldn’t be able to sit on it for an hour. One thing made me chuckle inside: I couldn’t believe that they had put a wooden head on it that made it resemble a horse. Later, Kelly showed me pictures of the ones at Louisbourg that she had taken during a vacation. The devices in the square were exactly like them.
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