Increasingly, men and women throughout America, are learning to turn on with pain.
We in the psychiatric community aren't sure whether or not this is a healthy development, or a dangerous situation. It's potentially healthy, in that subjects are able to work out their hostilities concerning members of the opposite sex. It's dangerous, in that partners often go too far!
Permanent damage, to body, or psyche, is a by-product of such perversion.
The following individuals were patients of mine. Their testimony, herein, provides the most contemporary view available of the pain and pleasure of sadomasochistic love.
TERRY: She was well versed in controlling men with pain, but paid a high price for her lust.
LANA: She lured a young man away from his happy home for the sake of her S&M whims.
ELENA: Elena, a lovely Manhattan model, fell in love with a rough and tumble trucker. She begged for brutal sex, and got it.
MARK: He loved only hookers. Only they understood his need for sadistic love.
DEE: Married to a professional patter writer, this woman was driven nearly to the point of madness, by her husband, I believe, purposely with sadistic intent. He used his professional abilities to taunt, and to torment.
These, and other patients, revealed here, will illustrate to the reader, the extent to which such painful emotional and physical examples of sadomasochism have taken root in America.
CASE HISTORY ONE
SUBJECT: Terry AGE: Twenty-Six
INTERVIEW ONE
Terry is one of those remarkably smart beautiful young women, who are too beautiful for their own good. During the initial interview with the attractive blonde, it was immediately apparent to me that she was well versed in the techniques of controlling men. But, like so many women who are adept at the art of manipulating men, Terry paid a high price for her power in terms of her sexuality. What follows is a taped transcript of the initial interview.
Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice, Doctor Lamb. I just live down the street, and I saw your name on the building. I wouldn't know how else to find a doctor to talk to. I tried discussing these things, these strange sexual aspects of my personality, with my friends. But I was just blowing their minds. They didn't really understand.
Doctor, I think I am a masochist. But, then again, sometimes I feel like a sadist. It's all so confusing to me. It spins my head around completely.
When did it first start?
Well, I guess that goes back a ways. You know, in the beginning, when I was just starting to date, I behaved quite normally with men. I enjoyed sex. I knew I was a good lover. I suppose the men recognized that as well.
Being a young, and lovely blue-eyed blonde, can be more difficult than you might imagine. Really. You see, I can never trust the way men deal with me. I'm never sure whether they like me for myself, or whether they just want to get into my pants.
It really gets complicated. It really does.
You see, I just don't want to be an object.
But that's what I've become. I don't like that in myself and I suppose I've begun to hate men for doing it to me. For fucking with my head. I just don't feel that I can forgive them for it.
I don't mean to see all men that way. But, in a way, aren't I right? I mean, aren't men sort of fucked up in the head? Don't they think that all a woman is good for is a piece of ass?
Now? Yes, well, know I'm seeing this fellow named Ken. He's good looking, and rich, and all those things. I suppose that's why I like him. But the sex is weird. The sick part about it, is that I like the sick part. I really do.
I mean, I find that I am getting more and more into the S&M aspects of my sexuality, and moving more and more away from the pure, emotional aspects.
The first time I made love with Ken it was normal enough. I had met him in a bar on the Upper Westside. He immediately caught my attention. I like well-developed, dark-haired men. I suppose it's because they are my opposites.
We're always looking for our opposites, aren't we?
We had a few drinks together, and I enjoyed his presence. His sexual presence, in any case. I was also hoping that he would fall for me. He seemed to be loaded with money, and he was good looking. What more could a girl ask for.
I decided to take a chance on him. I asked him up to my studio apartment.
He started right in on me with the kissing and caressing. He was an emotional type, for sure.
I gave in to it. He knew how to handle me. In fact, I felt like a precision instrument in his hands. He kissed me passionately on the mouth, and as his tongue sank into my mouth, I felt my entire body tremble with delight.
We both undressed rapidly, and I was very much impressed with the size of his pecker. It was a huge instrument, and as it grew completely erect, I looked forward to holding it, stroking it, and taking it inside my body.
But it wasn't going to be gentle love making.
The thing about those rich bastards is that they think that they can get away with murder. Absolute murder.
Not really. But close to it.
Money can't buy everything.
Ken started out gently enough with me. While we were both naked on the bed, we turned to face each other, and kissed passionately. He brought his hand to my breast, and squeezed it tenderly. I could feel my nipple harden with passion. He took it between his fingers and pulled at it gently.
It grew taut. It was nice. It really was. I was enjoying the sensations, and the pleasures. I really was.
He pressed his hand to my pussy, and squeezed my sex. He was tender. He knew just how to touch my clit, in a way that excited me very much.
Everything went so smoothly. I just couldn't imagine that there were going to be big problems.
As he moved slowly between my thighs, he spread my labial lips apart, and pressed his tongue into my cunt canyon.
I was extremely turned on as I felt his tongue working slowly, but surely, up along the canyon of flesh. When he took my clit into his mouth, and sucked me, I felt my entire body respond to the hot, burning pleasure.
It was a delight. It really was.
He took my clit into his mouth, and sucked at it, working his tongue back and forth over the magic button, and pressing the length of his tongue all the way inside my vagina.
It seemed just like normal love making.
His finger pressed slowly up against my anus, and as it slid slowly inside the hot tightness of my rectum, I felt a wave of passion shoot through me. It excited me, and turned me on like I've never been turned on before.
His tongue worked rapidly in and out of my rectum. His fingers were working over my clit, stroking it, and pulling at it. I felt an intense longing in my crotch. A longing for penetration, and for orgasm.
He took my clit flesh between his teeth, and nibbled at it sensuously, stroking it with his tongue, while I pumped, and writhed about against his mouth. I was burning up like I've never bumed up before. Faster and faster his tongue worked in my hole.
"Oh, baby," I moaned, "I'm almost there. You've taken me to the brink."
He continued to suck. And then the orgasm was just about there. That's when he stopped.
That was my first clue that the handsome man was into S&M. He just left me hanging there. He had a sick smile on his face, as I groaned with anxiety, and need.
"Don't torment me," I pleaded. "Please don't torture me this way."
"Isn't it nice to want something really badly?" he smiled.
"No, don t tease me," I cried. "Let me come. I want to come so much."
"All in due time, my dear," he smiled "Don't you worry. I'll take good care of you."
"If you want to take good care of me," I said. "Let me come. Don't torture me this way. '
"It's good for you,' he said, crouched between my legs, looking down at my pussy with a strange look in his eyes. "Don't you like to really want something, and not have it?"
"No, T want it."
"Hang loose," I said. "Don't get so damned intense with me. I want pleasure. I want it badly."
"Suck me off first," he said. "That will earn you the right to come."
"I can come whenever I want," I said, reaching for my clit.
"Oh, yeah?" he smiled, pinning my arms to the bed. "I'll bet you can't come now.'
"You are a real bastard, you know that?" I said.
"No, not a bastard," he said. "I'm just hanging loose. That's all. '
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Suck my cock," he said. "That's what I want."
"Okay," I agreed.
In a way, I must admit, I enjoyed what was happening. The power trip was strange.
It's not that I don't like sucking cock. I really do. It's just that it was all new to me, to be forced into it.
While he lay on his back, I took his prick in my hand, and squeezed it tightly, while I worked my mouth over the head of his prick and sucked on him.
I was working my mouth rapidly up and down the length of his tool, sucking at him with passion.
At first I was angry. He liked that. I could tell.
He gripped me by both my wrists, and moved my mouth rapidly up and down the length of his tool. It was very strange for me to be restrained like that. I had never been through anything like that before. His cock was pulsating wildly in my mouth. And he was groaning. It was obvious that he was going to come soon.
"You'd better swallow it, if you know what's good for you," he said.
I couldn't imagine what he was going to do to me, if I didn't swallow his spunk. But I knew it wouldn't be very good. I had a feeling about Ken, and awareness that he could be a real bastard, when he wanted.
"Oh, yes, you little honey," he moaned. "I'm going to come. Get ready."
I don't know how one could get ready to swallow spunk. I was never fond of the taste of jism.
But as his cock began to throb in my mouth, I knew that I was almost there.
Faster and faster he pumped his tool in and out of my mouth. As he pumped, he shot a river of hot jism into me. I swallowed it. I didn't want to, but I did. I could feel the sticky love nectar running down the back of my throat. I was almost gagging on it.
More and more spunk was dribbling into my mouth, as his tool worked in my mouth and out of me.
"That's right," he smiled, triumphantly. "Isn't it better to earn your orgasm, like that?"
I couldn't answer, of course, as my mouth was filled with spunk.
I simply swallowed it.
Finally, after he had shot his load off inside my mouth, he rolled me over on my back, and moved between my legs.
"Why don't you get yourself started?" he smiled.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I think you know what I mean," he smiled. "Masturbate!"
I didn't want to masturbate. I've never played with myself in front of anyone before.
"I don't want to do that," I said.
"You will do it," he said. "Or else."
I didn't want to find out what the "or else" meant. I figured it would be pretty intense. So, I moved my fingers to my pussy, and began to toy with my clit.
I could feel it swell with passion, and begin to throb. It really was feeling good. Very good.
I began to pump up against my fingers. I closed my eyes, and enjoyed the sensation of my fingers working over my clitoris. Hot waves of passion shot through me.
My body felt as though it were on fire.
It was. It was on fire with passion.
When I would open my eyes, I would see him leering at me, with a sick expression on his face.
He was really getting off on watching me masturbate. I was almost there. Almost ready to come. And then he pulled my hand away from my pussy again.
"You bastard!" I screamed.
But he only laughed.
INTERVIEW TWO
I had to cut Terry off at an inopportune time, as I had a patient waiting in the outer office. When she returned to my office for this, her second interview, she looked rather distraught. The following is the taped transcript of our second meeting.
What a week this has been, Doctor. But, I suppose I should tell you the rest of what happened that first night with Ken.
Where did I leave off? Do you remember?
Yes, that's right. He was tormenting me about my orgasm.
He finally did let me come but I was on the verge of tears, first.
"Please don't do this to me," I pleaded. "I need a sexual release. I need it badly. I wish you would stop tormenting me like this. It's cruel. So very cruel."
"Doesn't it excite you?" he asked.
"No," I replied. "It's torture plain and simple."
"Okay, bitch," he said. "You drive a hard bargain."
I really couldn't believe how mean he was being to me. I had done nothing to deserve it. I must admit, I was slightly enjoying what he was doing to me. It was exciting, in a way. But it was a sick way. A way that I really didn't want to indulge in.
He left me no choice.
"Do you want me to suck you?" he asked. 'Yes, please," I begged. "Please don't torment me like this."
"Very well, since you beg so nicely," he smiled, moving in between my thighs. Doctor, at that moment, I really knew what it meant to hate someone. I really hated him.
But at the same time, I must admit, the strange way we were acting with each other, excited me.
As he spread my hot lips apart, and ran his tongue over the length of my fuck canyon, I felt a wave of hot passion shoot through me. At last, I was going to enjoy myself. I had been waiting for that for a long time. I wrapped my legs around him, and pulled his mouth tightly to my pussy. This time, I was going to come. I just didn't want to take no for an answer.
While I held his mouth pinned tightly to my vagina, he ran his tongue up and down the length of my fuck canyon, and sucked at my clit. His finger was once more probing my behind.
He was being rough rougher than any man had ever been with me. But he was turning me on. His finger worked rapidly in and out of my ass-hole, and his tongue worked in rapid fashion on my sex.
I was boiling with passion. And then I came. Finally, the bastard let me enjoy myself. But I had had to go through hell and back to arrive at the heavenly gates of orgasm.
After I had spent myself, and drifted off into a heaven of pleasure, he lifted his mouth off my pussy, and fell at my side.
"A nice orgasm, my dear?" he asked, with a fiendish look on his face.
"Yes, it was nice," I said. "But I felt very weird with him."
I was afraid of him at that point. I began thinking about the women who had died at the hands of perverse maniacs. I wondered if Ken was like that.
I had no way of knowing exactly how far the guy would go with me.
That's was scared me so much. I just didn't know what his limitations were.
I didn't even know if he had any limitations.
"You wanna fuck?" he asked.
There was something so coarse about the way he talked to me about sex. He was treating me like a whore. I didn't like that at all.
He took my legs, and spread them widely. His organ was ge, and it was throbbing wildly as it approached the opening of my sex. As the tool slid slowly inside my vaginal opening, I pressed my pussy lips down firmly on his stick, pulling him slowly but surely into me. It felt good. It feels real good.
I was sighing with passion as his thick cock was shoved into my box. He moved his tool slowly in and out of my box. He leaned up against my clit, riding me high, while he worked his tool slowly in and out of my vagina.
"Oh, yes," I moaned. "Be good to me, Ken. Make me feel good. You excite me so much."
"I'll think about it, you fickle bitch," he sighed, as he began pumping harder and harder.
I don't know why he called me that. I had never given him any reason to be so mean to me.
Yet, he continued. He continued to hammer away at me, as if I were the enemy. That was absurd, of course. I wasn't the enemy. I was just an attractive young blonde he had picked up in the bar. He knew nothing about me.
I'm no psychiatrist, like you, Doctor. But I do know enough about human behavior, to know that the guy was a creep. He must have been thinking about someone else. It was clear to me that he wasn't thinking about me.
I felt as though he was punishing me for something another woman did to him. It was so unfair.
He was really hurting me at that point. His cock was pounding up against my cervix. Every time his cock smashed up against the opening of my uterus, I felt hot pain like knives cutting into me.
I was filled with passion.
"Please don't torment me like this," I cried. "But it was silly of me to protest. Again and again, his cock smashed into the opening of my uterus. The pain was unbearable. I thought I would die. The more I screamed with pain, the more he seemed to enjoy what was happening. Can you imagine that?
"Oh, God," I moaned. "You are giving me pain. It's terrible. Please stop hurting me."
"Relax, honey," he smiled. "Try to get into it. Just take some deep breaths, and let it flow You'll be fine. Really you will."
In and out, he shoved that monster tool of his.
And then, you know, it was really strange, but it started to feel good. It really did. My body was filled with enormous pleasure and passion. Faster and faster he pumped his tool in and out of my box. And then he moaned with a powerful passion, and shot hot spunk into my box.
I must tell you, Doctor, that it really did feel good. It was only at the last minute when he was shooting his tool off in me, that I began to enjoy what was happening.
"Tell me you like it," he said, as his tool worked continuously in and out of my hole.
"Darling," I sighed, "why are you tormenting me like this?"
"Don't call me nice names," he said. "What are you trying to do spoil all the fun?"
It was at that point that I finally began to understand where he was at. He was getting off on torturing me. And he didn't want the sex act to be pleasurable. He wanted it to be a painful experience. He wanted everything to be miserable. like him.
His erect tool was working rapidly in and out of my pussy, squirting off the last of his jism.
Then he pulled out. "Wasn't that nice, cunt."
"Do you really have to be so mean?" I asked.
"Why don't you just roll over, and I'll show you how nice I can be."
"I have a virgin ass-hole," I said. "Please leave me alone. Please stop torturing me."
I lay on my belly, with my legs spread widely. He moved in between my legs.
"You have such a lovely ass-hole, my dear," he smiled, sickly, as he pressed the head of his organ up against my anus. "I'm going to deflower you. It will do you good."
"Please have mercy," I said. "Don't torture me. Why would you want to hurt me?"
"You must stop thinking of it as pain," he said. "It isn't pain. It's just a different kind of pleasure."
"Yeah, sure," I said, feeling shooting pains up my ass, as he spread my anus open.
"It wasn't meant for a cock to go up that little hole," I said. "Please leave it alone. I can't stand the pain."
"Pain is the root of all pleasure," he said.
At last I was beginning to understand where he was coming from. He was a sick man. A very sick man.
He shoved the head of his cock up my ass without using any vaseline. It felt like a Mack truck had taken a drive up my rectum. The pain was more than I could bear. I screamed, as he worked his rod slowly in and out of my behind.
"Frig yourself, bitch," hs said.
I certainly wasn't in any frame of reference, to enjoy what was happening. Not at all.
"You do as I say," he screamed, as his cock tore in and out of my ass.
He forced me into the knee-chest position. And then he said if I didn't frig myself, while he buggered me, that he would really give me something to cry about.
That was convincing enough.
I touched my fingers to my clitoris, and rubbed it, sensuously, while he worked his tool slowly into my tightened ass-hole.
It seemed that when I cooperated with him, it went better for me.
I must admit, while I frigged myself, and felt the large penis working in and out of my ass-hole, I was filled with enormous pleasure. His tool felt very good as it worked in and out of my rear end.
Doctor, it was at that point, that I realized, I was a masochist. I took delight in the pain he inflicted on me. It was terrible. I felt my entire life falling apart.
I didn't know what to do.
And then he pulled his cock completely out of my ass.
"Why did you stop?" I asked, as he sat between my thighs, holding my ass cheeks apart with his fingers.
"I want you to beg for my cock in your ass, bitch."
"Why are you such a bastard?" I asked.
"Don't ask so many questions," he said. "Just beg for it. Tell me you want it. Beg for it."
"No. I won't let you debase me like that."
"I'll teach you a thing or two about debasement," he said, grabbing my arm, and pulling it up behind me. It felt as though he was going to pop my shoulder out of its socket.
It was a terrible feeling. I hated it.
He kept pressing my arm up higher and higher on my back, until I couldn't bear the pain.
"Yes," I moaned, "bugger me. If that's what you want, bugger me to your heart's content."
"That a girl," he smiled, releasing my arm. "Now, you just go ahead and frig yourself, while I work my rod in and out of your ass."
I did as I was told. Doctor, he had broken my spirit. He had broken me down. I felt like a nothing.
He was twisting my arm up painfully behind my back, ramming his cock in and out of my ass-hole. I could feel the tension building. I was almost there. I was going to come.
And it felt good. My anus was accustomed to it.
"Oh, yes," I moaned, as the phallus shot in and out of my ass-hole.
"I'm glad you're learning how to enjoy real sex," he said, as he pressed the entire length of his tool up my ass, and shot his load of hot spunk.
He filled me with his jism. Doctor, it felt good.
When he left that night, he left his calling card. "Call me sometime, if you want some real sex," he said.
I never thought in a million years that I would really call him.
But I did. And that was only one week after that night we had fucked.
I wanted to make love the way he liked.
I wanted pain.
It must sound absurd to you. But that's what I wanted. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to suffer. To hurt.
When he came over the last time, he brought a gym bag with him. And in the gym bag were various whips, dildos, and even handcuffs.
This time I wasn't afraid. I wanted that kind of treatment. The transformation had been complete. I had become a perverted woman. I just couldn't believe that there was any hope for me left. It seemed all over and done with. My normal days were finished. I was sick.
What should I do?
CONCLUSION
I had to differ with Terry. In light of what she told me, I explained to her that in my professional estimation, she was quite normal. We are living in an era of increasingly difficult times. Sexual identity crises are commonplace. No longer is plain old love making possible. Many are finding it increasingly difficult to avoid the bizarre and the perverse.
I told Terry that if she felt attracted to the man, and if she wanted a relationship with him, then she should go on with it. There was nothing wrong.
CASE HISTORY TWO
SUBJECT: Lana AGE: Twenty-Four
INTERVIEW ONE
This young subject simply wandered into my office. She seemed quite confused. She was obviously not sure what she was doing. It just so happened that I had a free hour, and was able to take her on. It's' so sad, how lovely young women like Lana become confused. Their sexual attitudes often backfire in their face, and they are left holding the bag wondering what direction to take next. This problem seems most evident with lovely young women, like Lana. The subject is a petite, green-eyed blonde. She is well aware of her beauty and charm, judging by the manner-in which she dresses and carries herself.
The following is a taped transcript of my initial interview with her.
Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. Doctor, I feel as though I've been wandering around in a fog for the last two weeks. I can't get Mark out of my mind. It's as though I were haunted by him.
Yes, of course, you wouldn't know who Mark is. Well, he is this really handsome, sensitive, and talented fellow. What happened between us might sound romantic, but believe me, it wasn't. It was strange. It was bizarre. I can't quite get over it.
You see, Doctor, I had met Mark on the street last year. It was just one of those things. Our paths crossed at one of those coincidental moments of life. You know what I mean.
In any case, our eyes met, and it felt like love at first sight.
I had no way of knowing that he was just visiting from Los Angeles.
He was only in town for a week.
And the week was half over when I met him.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I met him. He was so handsome. There was something almost mystical about him. I smiled. And he smiled. I told him that I liked him. I didn't even know who he was, or what his name was.
Believe me, Doctor, I don't normally do things like that.
There I was, standing on the sidewalk, looking at him, confused, and feeling all jittery inside.
"Hi," I said.
"Hello, cutie," he smiled.
We exchanged names, and the next thing I know, I had him up in my apartment.
Doctor, I don't want you to get the idea that I just go around picking up men off the street. I'm not like that at all. Really I'm not.
But he was so handsome, and so desirable, that it just happened.
We hardly spoke, at first.
We just got undressed as though we were both reading each other's minds, knowing that we wanted each other. His body was so nice. And his prick was enormous.
It was the largest penis I had ever seen in real life.
"I want you," he said.
"And I want you, too," I agreed.
After that was settled, we moved to the bed.
He took me in his arms, and pressed his mouth tightly to mine. As his firm, moistened tongue worked into my mouth, I pressed my breasts against his chest. The coarse hairs of his strong, highly muscular chest, delighted my sensitive nipples.
"May I suck you?" he asked.
I thought it was really cute that he would ask me like that.
I told him that I would love it if he did that to me.
Lying on my back, I spread my legs wide apart, and watched as he gingerly moved between my legs. It was obvious that he wanted to give me pleasure. He wanted to make me feel good. I liked that.
He pressed his hands beneath my ass globes, and lifted my pussy up to his mouth. As he sucked me, running his tongue slowly in and out of my pussy, I felt a wave of hot sexual desire work through my body.
Wrapping my sensitive thighs tightly around his face, I felt his tongue work over my pussy, and gently probe my opening. It was a delightful sensation. It turned me on like I've never been turned on before.
His tongue was so knowledgeable of what to do. I've found that with many men, I have to tell them exactly what to do. I have to coax them and guide them, as if they were little kids.
With Mark it was completely different.
He was taking complete care of me.
After he had sucked my clit, and licked my pussy and anus until I came, I felt completely satiated. I was filled with delight and swooned with passion.
He moved off my pussy after I had finished coming, and lay on his back on the bed.
"Would you like me to suck your cock?" I asked.
It was so funny with him. I was used to men forcing me to do things.
But he didn't have to force anything.
I wanted to do those things to him.
It's funny how that was. Mark's cock was hot. It wasn't too big, and it wasn't small. It was perfect. And it felt sensational to me as I worked my mouth slowly over the head of his meat, sucking at the sensitive cock flesh, holding the organ tenderly in my hand while my mouth moved up and down on him.
"You have a wonderful cock," I said.
He didn't seem to mind at all that I had lifted my mouth off his cock.
In fact, he seemed to like it. Up and down on his meat stick I moved my mouth. I cupped his balls, and toyed with them gently. He was beginning to moan with the tension of pre-orgasm. It wouldn't take him very long to reach the point of sexual fulfillment. I wanted to please him.
I've never felt like that with a man before, Doctor. I wanted to make him feel hanpy. It didn't at all feel as though we were at war. The war of the sexes seemed finished with. It was over.
I moved my mouth rapidly up and down on his sex stick, and then he came.
I enjoyed drinking his jism. I really did. It thrilled me, in fact.
After I had gobbled up all of his love goo, I let it slide slowly down the back of my throat. I tasted it.
I want you to know, Doctor, that I am not a come drinker. I mean, I don't normally do such things. Sure, there are lots of men who force their jism on me. They make me swallow their spunk. I can't stand those men.
But the look in Mark's eyes, as he shot his wad into my mouth, was apologetic.
It amazed me how he was. I certainly wasn't used to a man like that.
It was something altogether new for me.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"What the hell are you sorry about?" I asked.
"I guess I shocked you, didn't I?" he said. "I didn't know that was going to come so fast. I would have told you."
"That's all right," I said. "I don't mind at all. I like you, Mark. I would do anything for you."
"And I would do anything for you," he said.
Then put that handsome cock of yours into my pussy.
I spread my legs widely for him, and as he stuffed his tool slowly into my vagina, I felt glorious. Oh, Doctor, it was a wonderful feeling. I felt at peace with the world. I felt terribly close to him. I was in love. For the first time in my life, I truly felt as though I were in love.
I wrapped my legs around him, and pulled the handsome young man into my pussy. As his cock slid slowly into the my pussy, I felt a hot shudder run through me. I was on fire with lust.
In and out of my pussy he ran his organ.
I was completely on fire with passion.
He was leaning up on me, rubbing the shaft of his rod up against my clitoris, filling me with delightful sensations. I could feel the orgasm building. I was almost there.
"Oh, God," I moaned, "you are doing wonderful things to me. Absolutely wonderful. I am so hot and horny. Come on, honey, make me come."
I could tell that he liked it when I talked dirty.
He pressed his rod rapidly in and out of my pussy, and I could feel my orgasm about to arrive.
I could tell by the way he grimaced, that he was very close to the magic point as well.
I came first. I like it when I come before the man does. I like it much better than coming after him. I even like it more than a simultaneous orgasm.
I think the reason for that is because the man is still going strong, still pumping away, while I'm coming. That increases the pleasure of my orgasm. It makes it very special. I love it when it's special.
I pulled my knees up high, and moaned with hot passion as his cock pounded in and out of my vagina. It was a delightful sensation. As his tool worked rapidly in and out of me, and my body quivered with orgasmic delight, I knew that I had found the perfect lover.
I was hotter and happier than I have ever been before. I just didn't want it to end. I wanted it to go on forever.
It was only after his load of hot spunk had shot completely inside of me, that I came.
It was delicious. My body felt as though it were on fire. The passion swept through me as I pumped up against him.
I worked my pelvis about against him, trying to achieve that magic place that position where it feels wonderful.
After I had found it, my body pounded with passion. I was set free of the orgasm. I relaxed totally, and floated off into a dream-like state.
Our bodies seemed to melt together. w
After my orgasm was complete, I was amazed to see that his cock was still erect.
It was hard, and shimmering.
"You can still get it up?" I asked incredulously.
"I'm certainly not faking it," he smiled.
"Yes, that's obvious," I said. "I like the way you make love. I like it very much."
Mark was still ready to go. I couldn't believe his stamina.
"Would you like to sodomize me?" I asked him.
"Very much so," he said.
Don't get me wrong, Doctor. I don't normally go around asking men to bugger me. But there was something about him that excited me. I wanted to let him ravage me. I wanted to feel his cock up my ass.
I rolled over on my belly. "Do you like my ass?" I asked.
"Yes, it's a beautiful ass," he said. "Absolutely gorgeous."
He spread my ass cheeks apart, and stared hungrily down at my hole. I knew what he was thinking. I knew he wanted to shove his cock up my ass.
As his finger sank slowly into my anus, I moaned with pleasure, and pressed my ass up against his digits. His fingers filled me completely.
It hurt a little. Actually, it hurt a lot. I had only been buggered once before. I didn't like it. But the man who did it to me apparently liked it plenty.
And I wanted Mark to have a good time. I wanted him to be happy.
As I lay on my belly, with my legs spread widely apart, he shoved his organ slowly into my behind. It felt good. It felt wonderful. With his cock moving rapidly in and out of my ass-hole, I gripped at the sheets, feeling the pain of the large tool working in and out of my ass-hole.
It hurt.
He liked it, however, and that made me happy. He shot his load.
INTERVIEW TWO
Lana had not given me enough to go on during the first interview.
She kept hinting at some form of sadomasochistic sexual behavior, but she really didn't go into it. She never really explained what role it played in her life.
I scheduled her for a second interview, hoping that she would be able to further develop the theme of her sexual relationship with this fellow, Mark. It was in that manner, that I felt I would be able to make a meaningful diagnosis.
What follows is the taped transcript of the second interview.
I'm glad you scheduled me for a second appointment, Doctor. I really didn't have a chance to get to the main point of my relationship with Mark.
After that first night that we made love, we made love one more time. It was just as nice, and special.
And then he left, to return to Los Angeles.
We started writing letters. At first we wrote each other once a week, and then we started daily. After three months, it was obvious that we were head over heels in love with each other.
It was flat-out madness. I swear to you, Doctor, I had never felt about a man like that before.
To make matters worse, Doctor, I began to grow fearful. He loved me too much. I didn't like that. I mean, I knew I loved him, but what had happened between us in New York was mostly because I knew he was leaving.
But in the letters, Mark said he wanted to come back to New York to me. He wanted to live with me.
That frightened me. It really did. I didn't want any part of that.
Yet, I didn't want him to stay away. It all became like a love-hate relationship.
I really didn't know whether I was coming or going.
I wanted him to come, and yet I didn't. I thought that it might be nice to have him around. But the surrender to admit that I really loved him. That seemed too much.
Needless to say, he came. I didn't have the will to prevent it.
But you know, it was totally different. It wasn't at all like that fleeting love we had enjoyed together. That seemed over with. Perhaps over with forever.
But there he was, in my little apartment with me.
And he was totally in love with me.
The way I reacted, was to turn against him. It was my own fear I knew that for sure. But it was real. The fear was real. I didn't want to be close to him. "It's not going to be like it was before," I said.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, that I've changed. I'm a different person," I tried to explain.
It was a little silly of me, I suppose, to try to explain that to him.
After all, I didn't really understand what I was going through myself.
I was confused.
Totally confused.
"Why didn't you tell me these things before?" he asked.
"I guess I wasn't sure," I said. "Can't you understand that?"
"Yes, I can understand that," he said. "But I quit my job, I sold all my belongings, and came to you. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Yes, it means something," I said. "But there are no guarantees in life. You must understand that."
"I understand," he said. "I think I understand that better than most people."
"Listen, Mark," I said, "you can stay here for awhile. That's cool. But just don't expect anything."
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"Yes, if it means that much to you," I said, "you may kiss me."
He was shaking as he moved towards me. Believe me, Doctor, I wasn't trying to hurt him. I guess I was just trying to protect myself. But what really confused me was that it gave me pleasure.
It was turning me on to put him on the spot. Do you think that's sick?
Everything suddenly seemed to change. It was very much different than before. I suddenly had no urge to be kind. My urge was to hurt him to humiliate him.
That's what I wanted.
"Take off your clothes," I said. I've never talked like that to a man before. But I suddenly had an urge an overwhelming urge, to control him. To manipulate him.
I watched him as he undressed. He looked very nice without clothes. I will admit that I felt turned on. I really did. I was excited by him.
After he was completely stripped naked, I saw that he had a huge erection. It was in honor of me. And liked that very much. Very much indeed.
I began to undress. "If you want to stay here with me," I said, fully aware that he didn't have much money, "you are going to have to do certain things. You are going to have to tow the line."
"Why are you being so mean to me?" he asked.
"It's not so bad for you," I said, as I undressed. "Let's just say that I have many personalities. Many moods."
"Is this a permanent trip with you? he just asked, "or are there going to be some changes?"
"Let's just take it as it comes," I said, as I undressed. "Do you understand what I mean?"
"Are you sure you just wouldn't prefer me to return to Los Angeles?"
"You can do what you want," I said. "But why not hang around?"
Doctor, what was really strange about that, was that I didn't want him to leave. Not so much because I cared for him, but because I enjoyed lording it over him. I wanted to control him. I wanted to make him jump through the rings.
I undressed slowly. It was a strip tease. I watched his eyes bulging as he stared at my naked body.
Iwas getting to him. I was being a sadistic little bitch, I know. But I couldn't help it. I wanted to tease him to taunt him. It excited me.
His cock was fully erect as he stared at my naked body. I knew he got off on my blonde pubes. I knew that I turned him on. Turned him on very much.
He wanted to touch my breasts, to squeeze them, to suck at my nipples.
I lay on the bed. "You can kiss me on the mouth, if you wish," I said.
He sat beside me, and ran his fingers through my hair. "Why are you being mean to me?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I can't help it."
I had broken his spirit. He had tears in his eyes as he kissed me on the mouth. I felt his tongue pressing slowly into my mouth. I sucked at it, and stroked his hair.
His hand went to my breast, and he caressed it, lovingly. It turned me on to turn him on.
His fingers moved down to my pubic mound, which he squeezed tenderly.
"May I suck on your vagina?" he asked.
"Yes, that would be gallant of you," I said.
He moved between my legs, and kissed my vagina as if he were kissing me on the mouth. It stimulated me. His tongue worked slowly inside my vaginal opening. He pinched my clitoris, and began frigging me. I was burning up with passion.
I was on fire with passion. Faster and faster I pumped up against him.
He spread my pussy lips apart, and worked his mouth rapidly over my sex. I pumped my vagina more firmly up against his mouth. I was getting quite turned on. The passion in my groin was amazing. I've never been so turned on. Faster and faster I pumped my vagina up against his mouth.
The passion was building rapidly. I was almost there.
And then I came.
Let me tell you, Doctor, it was an amazing trip to be so turned on.
I pumped harder and harder up against his mouth, and felt my vagina glow, as if it were on fire.
It was on fire with passion.
"Fuck me," I moaned. "Fill me with your tool. Shove it all the way in. Turn me on, honey. As he slid his tool into my box, I really clamped my thighs down on it, and squeezed it in my box. It was a delightful sensation. And the passion of the sexual connection shot through me like a prairie fire.
My vagina was filled completely with him. I felt as though he were my sex slave. He was, really. And I liked that. I liked the idea of it very much.
As his tool worked rapidly in and out of my vagina, and he caressed my breasts, pinching my nipples lovingly, I was nearly swept away with passion. It was a passion such as I have never known before. It was nice, Doctor, to have a man completely dependent on me. I had made him into a puppet.
He loved me that much.
I had discovered something new about myself. I had discovered that I enjoyed having a man as a sex slave.
It turned me on much more this way.
I simply lay back, and relaxed totally, while his cock pounded in and out of my pussy, and his mouth worked on my nipples. It was a thrilling experience. Absolutely delightful.
I had never been so turned on before.
As he shot his hot spunk into my hole, I felt my own orgasm explode inside me. It was a thrilling experience. His tool worked faster and faster inside me, shooting spunk as it worked in me.
"Okay, that's enough," I said, after my orgasm was complete. He withdrew his tool slowly from my box. He was still shooting spunk, and it was obvious that he was frustrated.
His load spilled onto my pubic mound, and my belly.
It felt nice, but I pretended I didn't like it. I wanted to give him a hard time.
"Why did you do that?" I asked.
"You wanted me to pull out, and I wasn't finished shooting," he said. "What do you expect of me?"
"Well, since it's there," I said, "you might as well rub it in. Give me a semen massage."
I suppose I was testing him, seeing how far I could push him. What a fool I was. It was absolutely foolish of me. Absurd of me.
I watched with delight as he massaged the spilled fuck juice on my belly, and up over my breasts.
I pretended that I didn't like it. But I liked it very much. Very much indeed. I rolled over.
"I want it up my ass," I said.
He didn't look very hard. I wasn't sure whether he would be able to get it up. That made it even more fun.
He tried jerking off to get it hard. He looked so humiliated, and beat down.
The poor guy. I must say, however, that it was giving me great joy to taunt him.
"I suppose I had better suck on your cock to get you hard," I said.
It was obvious to me that I was getting through to him. I had really beaten him down. It exhilarated me. It turned me on like I've never been turned on before.
Moving my mouth over the head of his limp cock, I sucked at him. I sucked and sucked.
"How do you think you're going to be able to put your cock in my ass, if you can't even get it up?" I asked.
"I'm trying," he said. "But it's difficult. It really is so very difficult."
"Well," I said, taking my mouth off his cock, "I guess you just don't have what it takes. Maybe you don't belong here with me. Maybe it would be better if you left." And he did leave.
I don't know where those words came from. It blew my mind. I was totally confused.
I hadn't even given him a chance. I know that. But what could I have done? I was in the grip of this sickness. Doctor, I miss him. I really do. I miss him terribly. I know it's too late.
CONCLUSION
It was immediately apparent to me, during the course of the second interview, it was clear that the lovely young woman was suffering a personal disorder, of considerable proportion.
Initially, I thought it was a mere fear reaction to love. But on second thought, it was much more than that. There is the beginnings of psychosis in this young woman. Unfortunately, my calendar is over-taxed as it is.
I recommended to the young lady, that she send a note to this fellow she hurt so deeply, explaining that she was suffering from a mental disorder at the time. Furthermore, I suggested to her that she check into Bellevue , for a little bit of observation.
CASE HISTORY THREE
SUBJECT: Elena AGE: Twenty-Three
INTERVIEW ONE
This attractive, strawberry-blonde subject, was referred to me by her family physician. It's quite common, actually, especially in divorce cases like this situation, for individuals to turn to their family physician for assistance in distress. It's surprising how many of these cases are referred to the psychiatric community, by general physicians.
The following is a taped transcript of my first interview with this distraught young woman.
I don't know why I married him. I was such a fool. He's taken it too far. Much too far.
I had no way of knowing how angry he was. Sure, when I first married him, I liked a little of his rough stuff. That's what sort of turned me on to him in the first place.
You can't imagine what a difficult cross it is to bear to be beautiful. So many men just want to drool all over you, and follow you around, like a puppy dog. I want a lot more than that. I need a lot more than that.
And that's what I found in Mario. At least, that's what I thought I found in Mario.
Actually, it was much more. I loved him. I mean, there was an emotional closeness. I won't deny that. But what really excited me was the way he liked to slap me around. No man has ever had the guts to deal with me like that. But Mario did.
I was working as a model at the time. And he was a truck driver.
Okay, I admit that it was sort of embarrassing at first. All the models I knew were hanging out with doctors, and lawyers you know the rich Johns that pay. Most of my girlfriends didn't understand what it was I saw in Mario. But they're sort of thick-witted anyway.
What they failed to see, was that Mario was a macho Italian dude. And they just don't make men like that all the time. I figured that my girlfriends were just jealous. That they didn't understand about such things.
But you know what, Doctor? I think my girlfriends were right. At least now.
What a stubborn fool I was in the beginning.
You see, when I first began dating Mario, he was so tough and masculine. I didn't know how to deal with him at first.
Do you want to know how we first met? "You see, I was doing a modeling job on Seventh Avenue. I was taking a break, out in back of the photo studio. I was smoking a joint. That always works for me when I'm uptight.
And there he was Mister Beautiful. He was wearing a black T-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. His chest looked so masculine, and well-developed. His belly was flat. Just the way I like my mean to look. He was wearing very tight jeans. He had cowboy boots on.
His face. It was like a cross between Michelangelo's David, and Al Capone.
There was the most ironic balance between his vulnerability and his hardness.
He smiled at me. I smiled back. I wasn't really thinking about him that way not at first. You know what I mean. But he was so cute. I remember that it was just after winter.
April had just begun.
The faces on the street were happy. People were coming back to life after a season of death. It was so strange to me. It really was. He kept smiling. And I felt as though I were growing warmer and warmer inside. I was cooking.
It never felt like that before, Doctor. This was a beginning. A new beginning. That must seem strange to you. But I had a sudden flash. It was more like an insight, really. An insight into the realities of life. You see, all my adult life since I was eighteen, anyway was devoted to beauty. To my beauty. I was in love with myself, as most models are, I
I didn't want to let anyone get close to me. I would go out with men now and then but it was mostly to boost my career. Rarely did I ever enjoy the sex. It was simply a physical act. That's all it was. Do you know what I mean?
But Mario. God. It was completely different. This was pure animal lust. I felt like an animal in the jungle that had just spotted a mate. I wandered towards him. His cigarette was dangling from his lips.
He looked so hip, and cool.
His muscles looked firm.
And the bulge in his tight jeans. God, I could hardly bear it. I want you to know, Doctor, that I do not normally go around acting like that. Really. I have never felt passion like that before. And I didn't even know him. He was a stranger to me.
Oh, Lord, I was sure in for a surprise. It's funny how it is with sex. Sometimes your appetite can be bigger than your stomach.
"Hi," I said. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing okay," he said, with the cigarette still dangling from his lips. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing fine," I said. I didn't know what else to say. I was absolutely tongue-tied. I was so aware of my nipples, and my groin. My breasts felt as if they were swollen with mad passion. My nipples were taut. And my groin was moistened with optimistic lotions.
I felt heat work through me like a furnace.
"Are you just going to stand there and look at me?" he asked.
"I don't know what to say," I replied. "You're so beautiful."
"You look all right yourself," he smiled. "Tell me, lady, is that really strawberry-blonde hair or is it just a color job?"
"It's quite real, I assure you," I said. "Get into the back of the truck, and we'll find out."
I want you to know, Doctor, that I grew up in a very proper family. The idea of me getting into the back of a truck, to make love, would probably kill my parents.
But what am I supposed to do?
I don't know what came over me. Yes I do. I shouldn't lie. It was lust. Simple, blind lust. How wonderful that was.
It was so new to me. It felt natural, too.
I got into the back of the truck, and lay on a mound of old canvas tarps. I was in an expensive designer's dress, I want you to know.
Mario was standing over me. Looking up at him, he seemed like a statue, completely bigger than life. I really got off on that.
The photographer came out of the studio to look for me. He was calling my name. I held my finger to my lips, indicating to Mario, that I didn't want to be found.
"Hey, you in the truck," he called out to Mario, "have you seen a beautiful strawberry blonde out here?"
"What is that?" Mario asked, acting quite seriously. "Some kind of fruit?"
"That damn woman," the photographer said. "Those beautiful dames are nothing but trouble. It's one problem after another. There's just no end to it. What a drag."
After the photographer left, Mario smiled. But it wasn't a complete smile. In all the time I've known him, he's never really smiled, or shown genuine happiness.
He has a mean streak, Doctor. He's a sadist. I swear it.
"Take off your dress, lady," he said.
"My name is Elena," I said.
"Okay, Elena," he smiled that wicked smile of his, "take off your dress."
I unbuttoned the front of my dress. He was staring hungrily at my lovely form.
After opening the dress, he looked down at my apricot-colored teddy.
"What the fuck is that?" he asked.
"It's a camisole," I said, "with a built-in crotch."
"I don't know what all those imagine names are about," he said. "Just take that damn thing off, okay?"
"Sure," I smiled. "Doctor, I liked being talked to like that. There I was, lying in the back of this filthy flat bed truck, taking off my clothes, and there was this gorgeous Italian truck driver standing over me, turning me on with just his presence.
"So, you really are a natural strawberry-blonde," he smiled, looking down at my exposed crotch.
"Do you like my body?" I asked.
"It's okay," he smiled.
I knew he liked it more than he was acting. I mean, I am a gorgeous woman. There is no doubt about that. No doubt at all. But he was cool. I suppose that all those years of my difficulty with men, was only because they drooled over me all the time. I couldn't stand it.
But with Mario it was completely different. He knew how to turn me on with his indifference.
When I was completely naked, lying on the filthy canvas tarps, he just stared at me. I could see the bulge in his crotch growing swelling with passion.
"So, you like me?"
"I didn't say that, did I?"
"Okay, mister," I said. "What do you want?"
"The name is Mario, lady."
"And mine is Elena."
"Okay, Elena, bitch," he smiled, unbuttoning the front of his jeans.
Out popped a huge organ. It was one of the largest peckers I've ever seen. I was completely surprised. I knew it was going to be a big one. I just knew that.
But this. My God, Doctor. I don't want to seem like a pervert to you. But it was one hell of a huge pecker. My God was it big.
I opened my legs for him, exposing my lush bush, and the crimson-colored lips of my labia.
"Suck it!" he said, quite matter-of-factly.
And then he squatted over my face. It was hot in the back of the truck. The sun was beating down on us, and the humidity was thick. There were flies buzzing around my head. It was a day designed for hot carnality.
He pressed his pecker up against my lips.
As it was pushed inside my mouth, I had to open wide for him. And I mean wide. My jaw was aching from opening so widely.
In it went.
I could feel it pressing up against my tonsils. It was hot, and hard. His balls were resting on my chin. I could feel the pubic hairs of his nuts tickling my chin.
It was hot, and perverse.
His tool began to work slowly in and out of my mouth. His balls were slapping against my face. I was burning up with passion.
"You like my cock, don't you, lady?" he smiled.
"It's a nice cock," I said.
"Well, you just keep sucking it," he said. "And when I come, I want you to swallow up every last drop of my spunk. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I managed to mumble, as his tool worked rapidly in and out of my mouth.
I could feel a surging heat go through me. I loved the taste and feel of his cock in my mouth. It was turning me on. Turning me on like I've never been turned on before.
I could smell his anus. There was an acrid odor between his legs, the result of perspiration mingled with sexuality, and manliness.
I felt perverted.
Faster and faster he worked his tool in and out of my mouth. I could feel the heat increasing in his nuts.
"Get ready, Elena," he said, and then his organ suddenly shot off in my mouth. I could feel the heat of his semen spurt into my mouth. The inner surface of my mouth was covered with the liquid lust.
I liked it, Doctor.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Elena returned to my office for her second interview, I must say that she seemed slightly happier. But there was something going on within her. Some great struggle. I didn't know what to make of it. I hadn't really heard enough during the first interview to make a proper diagnosis. I didn't want to rush her. I wanted the attractive, but confused strawberry-blonde to take her time. I wanted her story to come naturally. What follows is the taped transcript of her second interview.
Where did I leave off last week, Doctor? I just can't remember.
That's right. Now it's all coming back to me. Mario had just shot his wad in my mouth. I liked it. I want you to know, that was the first time I ever swallowed spunk before. I had sucked men off before I guess not really sucked them off. This was the first time that I really did it. I swallowed every last drop of it.
"Did I do it well?" I asked Mario, as he withdrew his fulfilled rod from my mouth.
"That was an okay job," he said. "You'll learn in time. There's no point in rushing it."
"What should I do now?" I asked.
"Now, I'll suck you off," he smiled. "And it will give me great pleasure."
It was obvious that he was more concerned with his own pleasure, than mine.
"Would you take the cigarette out of your mouth, before you go down on me?" I asked.
"Yeah, I guess so," he said, taking the half-smoked cancer stick from between his lips, and flicked it out of the truck.
He moved down between my thighs, and pressed his hands beneath my ass globes. He lifted my pussy to his mouth, and sucked at my lips. His tongue slid inside the hole. I pressed my vaginal lips down on his tongue, and swooned with pleasure. It had never felt like that before. Not ever. But I hoped it would be like that again.
He was really getting hot. I could see the black T-shirt become saturated with perspiration beneath his arms, as his mouth worked on my hungry vagina. My hole was dripping with hot pussy juice, while his tongue worked rapidly about inside me. My clitoris was swollen and throbbing. He pressed his finger slowly up my ass-hole. I could feel the tight sphincter muscle clamp down on his finger. I was bearing down as if I were delivering a baby.
Faster and faster he worked his finger in and out of my hole. His mouth was working rapidly over my vagina. I was burning up with passion.
I must say, though he tried to make it seem like he wasn't really trying to please me, he was. He was sucking me better than I ever dreamed oral sex could be like.
I'm not sure exactly what his technique was. But it worked. It worked well.
His tongue was really going to town, pounding in and out of my pussy, while his fingers tugged at my clitoris. I could feel passion tingle in me from head to toe.
My body was on fire. I looked down at my crotch, to see his fingers pinching my swollen little clit, while his tongue worked swiftly in and out of my opening.
His finger pressed up against my anus, and slid inside. I was on fire. Absolutely on fire.
And then it happened. I screamed so loud unexpectedly that I figured the cops would be right on the spot, thinking someone was being murdered.
The orgasm was powerful and complete. His tongue worked swiftly in and out of my pussy. He pulled at my clit. I was absolutely on fire. Burning, raging with delight.
And it wouldn't stop. It was like a never-ending roller coaster ride of sexual delight.
In and out of my vagina his tongue worked. And I got so hot that I thought I would lose it completely.
I mean, really pass out. Or even die. Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration.
But it felt good.
After he had sucked the orgasm out of me, I felt limp, and warm. I was like a well-used fuck doll, I suppose. Before I knew what was happening, Mario was between my legs, pressing the head of his mammoth organ into my tightened opening.
I could feel the heat pulsate through me, as his tool worked slowly, but surely, into my vaginal entrance. I couldn't believe what a glorious feeling it was. Faster and faster he pumped. The friction was magnificent. It felt as though I were going to lose my mind from it. Really.
I wrapped my legs tightly around him, and moaned like a cat in heat, while his organ worked rapidly in and out of my vagina.
He leaned up on me, so that the shaft of his cock was pressing against my clitoris. The heat and sexual tension was magnificent. I could feel my release on the horizon.
I was almost there.
And then it happened. We came simultaneously.
We both groaned in unison, as our bodies melted together in a cauldron of sexual joy. The hot rhythm of the movement of his fuck stick, in and out of my vagina, was supreme. It was glorious. Faster and faster he pumped. I was in seventh heaven.
So was he. I could tell by his expression. But Mario wasn't the type to say anything. I would have to read into him. The way he wrinkled his face, while his tool worked in and out of me, and the way he moaned, while his second load of jism rushed into my box, thrilled me.
We were both hot.
After he pulled his stick out of my box, and sat on the tarp beside me, I realized that he was still horny.
"I don't believe you," I said. "I just can't believe that you keep your erection up like that."
"Well, I most certainly can," he said. "You turn me on."
"I'm really surprised to hear a compliment from you," I said.
"I guess it just slipped out," he said. "Sort of an accident."
"I don't know what it was," I said. "But I liked it."
"Turn over, beautiful lady," he said, staring at my very nice body.
"You're not going to bugger me, are you?" I asked.
"Do you have anything against that?" he smiled.
"Only that I have a virgin ass-hole, and I would like to keep it that way."
"Lady, there is a time when pure-minded broads like you must become women," he said.
"I don't think being buggered and becoming a woman have anything in common."
He didn't leave me any choice. He simply rolled me over, and stared down at my firm ass cheeks. He spread my globes apart, and admired the opening of my anus.
His finger pressed deeply inside.
"Oh, God," I moaned, "It hurts."
"It's good for you," he said, pressing three fingers up my ass. He wanted to hurt me. To humiliate me. That was quite obvious to me. After he pulled his fingers from my ass-hole, he replaced them with the head of his cock. His huge tool worked slowly into my behind. He stretched my ass-hole completely open, as his organ sank slowly, and deeply into my behind.
"Oh, God," I moaned. "It hurts."
"A little pain can give a lot of pleasure," he said, as he pumped continuously in and out of my ass. His huge tool was pulsating in my ass-hole, working rapidly, turning me on. I admit it, Doctor, I was getting turned on.
Very much turned on.
My vagina was on fire from the friction of his cock in my ass. My entire perineum absorbed the sexual lust and pleasure of my entire reproductive region.
"Oh, Lord," I moaned, as he sank his tool slowly to the depths of my rectum, "It's good. It doesn't hurt anymore."
"See, I told you, you'd get used to it," he said. "It's just a question of adjustment."
He pulled me slightly up into the knee-chest position, and his tool worked rapidly in and out of my ass-hole.
The fire was raging in my crotch.
And then he shot.
I tell you, Doctor, it was a great deal of pleasure for me. It really was. His tool was spitting hot spunk as it raced in and out of my ass-hole. His balls were slapping up against my cheeks, and a jolt of sex heat worked through me, like never before. I came.
I had hardly touched my clitoris at all, and yet it burned with passion. My entire vaginal area was on fire with sex heat supreme. Faster, faster and faster my body pulsated with passion.
As Mario withdrew his tool from my anus, I collapsed to the dirty canvas tarps. His cock pulled out of my anal opening. He sighed with pleasure.
"Did you like that?" he asked.
"I liked it very much," I said.
"Okay, lady," he said, tucking his tarnished weapon back into his pants, and buttoning up. "Get into the truck. I'm taking you home with me.
I hope you realize the significance of all of this, Doctor. I mean, I had just been completely sexually devoured by this man a stranger and I was getting into the truck with him, riding off to God only knew where. It's not as though I was looking for a place to crash.
I had a very nice one bedroom apartment on Park Avenue. What mattered to me, was that I had finally found a man I could relate to. After all those years, I was with someone who mattered to me. And that meant a great deal to me. It really did.
We were silent in the truck as we drove.
He smoked, and drove. I stared at him, admiring his beauty, and strength.
I wondered about the sex to come in the future. I wondered how it would be.
I knew it would be good. But I also knew that I could expect things to get rough.
There was something about him that suggested sadism. Much worse than the sadistic tendencies he had exhibited earlier. In the back of the truck.
Mario had a small one bedroom apartment in little Italy. It was Spartan, really. But there was a big bed. And that's what really mattered.
For a week we didn't leave that apartment.
He fucked me like a crazy man the entire time. I mean like a crazy man. There was no stopping him once he got started.
After the first week of semi-normal sex, things began to change. He began to act out his sadistic tendencies. Fucking me in the mouth, pussy and anus, were not enough.
He was into bondage, Doctor.
You know, with the ropes, and whips, gags, and tit clamps. The works.
It was insane. But I liked it. I wanted to surrender to him completely. I wanted to give myself to him on a silver platter. He would tie me to the bed posts, on my back, or on my belly, depending on which side of me he wanted to violate.
He would gag me, and sometimes blindfold me. The tit clamps were the hardest to deal with. They weren't really tit clamps. They were wooden clothes pins.
When he put them on my nipples, it felt like a hot poker had been shoved up against my nipple. Talk about pain, Doctor. That was real pain. I mean, severe pain.
The kind you would like to avoid. But I got used to it. I got used to all sorts of things with him.
While he tormented me, I learned to enjoy pain. Let's face it, Doctor, life is filled with pain. Sometimes, it seems as though there is more pain than pleasure in life.
So, I might as well have learned to deal with pain. What other choice did I have. There were times, when I felt that I would go crazy from it all. But still I wanted to be with Mario. I wanted to be around him. To be close to him. To make him happy, and be the receptacle of his passion.
It was odd for me at times. For instance, Mario had this passion for keeping me tied up, sometimes for several days in a row. He would feed me, baby food. Yes. I don't even want to try to understand what that meant. He just had this crazy passion for passion. For sick passion.
I guess that's why I married him. You know, Doctor, I still love him. He doesn't understand why I want to see you. He thinks that I want to divorce him. That's not it. I guess I just needed to talk about it with someone. With a professional. I feel much better. It was all just too much to keesecret. Thank you for listening to me.
CONCLUSION
In the case of Elena, I must say that I enjoyed being with her. I enjoyed it very much. It was refreshing for me to have a patient who was so well adjusted to the neuroses of life. She was fortunate enough to have met a man who shared her sickness. In situations like this, where two people share a common mental disorder, it is often best to leave them as they are. It would take years of intensive therapy to cure them. And it's doubtful if such hard-core sadomasochists could ever truly give up their mania.
I advised Elena to stay with Mario, if that's what she wanted.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
SUBJECT: Mark AGE: Twenty-Seven
INTERVIEW ONE
This handsome, dark-haired gentleman, called last week for an appointment. He said simply that he was confused. He said that he had tried talking over his situation with his friends, but they didn't understand him. He indicated that he didn't feel he was suffering from any serious problems just growing pains. We psychiatrists often find that patients feel that way about themselves. No one seems to want to admit that they are sick.
It's good of you to agree to see me, Doctor. like I told you on phone, I don't think I really have any serious problems. It's just a general confusion. You see, this has been an absolutely insane year for me. I'm only now getting used to New York. I'm from San Francisco, originally.
I came here just about a year ago today, to see a woman. She was a young woman. A beautiful young blonde I had met the previous year while on vacation in the Big Apple.
Perhaps I am just a masochist at heart, Doctor. But you see, I am forever finding myself in the most awkward sexual situations. You just wouldn't believe it.
Take Lisa, for example. She was the one I came to New York to see. So beautiful. God, she looked just like a little Candice Bergen. I should have known it was too good to be true.
As soon as things began to get a little tough you know, with the emotions becoming involved, she could no longer deal with me. She wanted me out of her life.
That was only a few weeks after I had come to New York. Do you ever hear of such strange things?
What! You had a patient just recently who had the same story? Her name wasn't Lisa, was it? No? But still, that's a strange coincidence, isn't it?
In any case, it was hot sex, and it was good sex, for the time it lasted.
I work as a painter, you see. Not a house painter. But a portrait painter. And not photographic portraits. I'm talking about real art. It's quite hard, as you can imagine, for a painter to establish himself in a new place. Especially a place like New York. The competition is astounding.
As luck would have it, I had done some painting for an art production house, the previous time I had been in New York. It was a strange situatiPeople from all over the country would send photos of themselves to the art production house, and a staff of artists would copy the photos in oil paint.
It wasn't really art. But it was good practice. Of course, I was a bit confined, in that I couldn't really get expressive with my painting. I had to stick to nearly photographic rendering. I would do a painting a day. The pay was okay. For an artist to have a steady gig like that is rare. It really is. I needed the money, so I did it. A woman ran the studio.
Sarah was a good woman. She was like a sister to me. In fact, she had a brother named Mark also. I guess it was just one of those coincidences of life.
So after Lisa tossed me out on my ear after having helped me rapidly spend everything I had saved I called Sarah. Not only for a job, but for a place to stay. She had a nice place on Park Avenue. A very lovely terrace apartment.
She said that her rent had just been raised, and she could use a paying guest. So, I moved in. It was a good situation. We both had our own lives to live. She wasn't home very much, as she spent a great deal of time with the owners of the business, who were close friends of hers.
There were several women I saw from time to time. But they were beautiful New York ladies. And that means difficulty. In other words, they weren't putting out for me.
I guess it was just one of those meant to be situations. I turned to prostitutes.
I've always been fond of working ladies.
For several months, there was a lovely black hooker who worked the street in front of Sarah's apartment building. She was very attractive, and young. She was working her way through the John Jay College of Criminology, which I thought was cute.
She was a bright girl. And she made love quite well. She would come up several times a week. I was always glad to see her.
It was a business transaction, for sure. But we were also friends. She was an excellent lover. Really top-drawer.
It was fifteen dollars for a blow-job, twenty for a fuck, and another twenty to fuck her in the ass.
She was a little on the tough side. But it was nice.
Her name was Cindy. Cindy was a great lover. She really knew how to turn me on. She had definitely chosen the right job.
She was supremely qualified.
There was something about her dark skin, which really thrilled me. Her kinky hair, and her lustrous black pubic kink thrilled me. I knew that hookers rarely get turned on. Mostly because they don't want to risk emotional pain, from involvement.
I made it a point to get her hooked on me. I guess it was a challenge. I wasn't really being mean. And I suppose she derived something from the emotional closeness. Even hookers are people, I figured.
I tried not to think about the many men she sucked and fucked through out the day. When Cindy was with me, I felt good. Glad in my heart. I felt close to her. We developed a relationship of sorts.
We would talk about all sorts of things. We would even talk philosophy together. She had a kid, who was staying with her mother. I felt sorry for Cindy, In a way. It was apparent to me that she was greatly in need of emotional nourishment. She really was.
I liked to feel her warm, dark body close to mine. She didn't like to kiss. I guess it was because of what she had been sucking on during the night. And, at first, she didn't want me to suck her. But I quickly turned her around. I got her a toothbrush, which I kept in the bathroom for her.
By the way, Sarah knew about all of this. She thought it was cool.
In fact, Cindy wanted to service Sarah as well. But Sarah was shy about it.
When Cindy would come over, I would have her take a bubble bath, and brush her teeth. I wanted her to feel clean with me. I also wanted her to be clean.
It was so nice to see her in the bath tub filled with strawberry scented bubbles all around her dark body.
She seemed so pleased. And that pleased me. It really did. In fact, it thrilled me.
I would often bathe her. I liked to use the soft sponge on her. I guess she wasn't used to such treatment by a white man. Everyone wants to be treated nicely. Don't you think, Doctor?
I watched her nipples grow taut as I worked the sponge over her breasts. Her tits were swollen with passion. I worked my soap-laden fingers down to her anus, and pressed them up her ass.
She liked that. She let me do everything to her. As long as I was nice, and treated her like a lady, she got off on what ever I did to her.
She was a cutie.
I liked to get her turned on when she was in the bath. I would work my ringers over her pussy, pulling at her clit, and listening to her moan with pleasure.
When she shut her eyes, she looked just like a black angel.
After Cindy had rinsed the soap bubbles off, and brushed her teeth, we got into bed together.
We would hold each other tightly, and our tongues would touch with hot passion. I pressed my tongue deeply into her mouth, and she sucked at it. We were both getting quite horny. Very turned on.
I cupped her breast, and squeezed it with passion, while our mouths worked together. We were both filled with passion. Our loins ached with desire.
My cock was so hard for her. She gripped my pecker and stroked it, while I kissed her passionately on the mouth. I guess it was just the idea of being with a black woman, that thrilled me so.
So much is in our heads.
So very much is psychological. It's really amazing to me. It really is.
I would move my mouth slowly from hers, working towards her ear. My tongue would press slowly into her ear canal, and then I would kiss my way down her neck to her breast. Taking her nipple into my mouth, I sucked at it, feeling it grow taut in my mouth.
She tasted sweet, and lovely. I moved my mouth to her other nipple, and sucked at it.
She liked it. I could tell by the way she stroked my cock, and squeezed my balls, that she was feeling good. Really good. I pressed my hand tightly up against her pussy while I kissed her, and sucked at her breasts.
"Let me suck you," she would say.
I didn't reject her. No way.
I lay on my back, and sighed with pleasure while she lowered her mouth to my stick. As her tongue worked slowly over the head of my pecker, I could feel the tension build almost immediately.
Her mouth gripped my cock tightly. And as it sank slowly down the shaft of my rod, I could feel the jism boiling in my nuts. Faster and faster she worked her mouth up and down the length of my tool.
I could feel the sexual tension building to a critical point. It wouldn't take me very long at all to shoot off. But I held back.
I wanted it to last.
She seemed to be enjoying herself. In fact, she was humming a tune while she sucked me.
I didn't recognize it. She always hummed when she sucked me. I always forgot to ask what tune it was she was humming.
Oh, well, I guess that doesn't matter so much.
When it was time for me to come in Cindy's mouth, I felt a joy rush through me that was absolutely amazing. My entire body felt as though it were on fire.
My tool worked faster and faster in and out of her loving mouth. I could feel my balls aching with the tension of the impending orgasm. It wouldn't take very long at all. As my cock pressed deeper and deeper in her mouth, I could feel the moment of release rushing at me like a starving leopard about to leap on its prey.
"Oh, God," I would moan, as my hot spunk shot into her mouth. She gulped the hot love nectar down, letting it trickle down the back of her throat.
I loved to watch her swallow my spunk. She swallowed it as though it were fresh cream.
It was, in a way.
After she had milked my member, she would lift her mouth off my fuck stick, and lick her lips like she had just finished desert.
It was wonderful.
I was always immediately inspired to go again.
It kept getting better with Cindy.
As she spread her long, black legs, I moved in between her lovely thighs, and stared with sexual anxiety down at the gaping hole of her vagina.
I slid the head of my organ slowly into her box, and she squeezed my cock tightly between her labial lips. I was amazed at how tight she was. One would think that a prostitute would have a hole the size of a grape fruit.
Maybe it was all simply muscle control.
What ever it was, she knew how to get me off.
Perhaps it was simply the thought of it, but when my organ moved deeply inside her sexual opening, I felt a shudder of sexual heat work through me, which was truly amazing.
I could hardly handle it.
My organ worked slowly in and out of her pussy. I could feel the sexual tension building in my balls. I knew it wouldn't be long until I shot.
But that didn't worry me. I could go on fucking this beautiful black creature all day long.
I pressed my organ all the way into the depths of her pussy, and there I shuddered, moaned, spasmed, and shot.
My load of spunk filled her pussy. She would moan, with real meaning. She was pleased. I knew I could take her to the brink. She was usually about ready for orgasm while my tool worked in and out of her vagina.
I had a technique of leaning up against her clit, which took her to the very precipice of the land of orgasm.
After I shot off in her pussy, I would stick her clit, and finish her off. She liked that a lot.
Taking her red little clitoris into my mouth, I would simultaneously suck on it, and take it between my teeth. Biting it, and sucking at it, I would take her to the brink of orgasm. And then I would listen to her moan seeking pleasure. Crazy for an orgasm.
"Oh, Mark," she would moan. "You make me feel so good. You turn me on like no one. I like you. You are so good to me."
And then she would come.
The way she moaned, and squirmed about while she came, excited me very much. I can't tell you how good it felt to make the prostitute come.
INTERVIEW TWO
As the fifty-minute initial interview had lapsed before Mark and I had a chance to get into the meat of the psychiatric topic, I scheduled the handsome young painter for a interview. What follows is the tape recorded transcript of that second interview.
Now, where was I, Doctor?
Oh, yes. You have a remarkable memory. You know that?
A tape recorder? No, I didn't' know that. Well, as long as you don't play the tapes on the radio, I guess it's all right with me.
That's right. I had just finished sucking Cindy off.
I always buggered her after that.
You would be surprised how much she liked that. She really got off on it.
I guess it was because I was so tender. It probably helped a lot that she had been satiated by my tongue and cock first.
She always felt limp when I turned her over on her belly, and spread her legs apart. And then I would work up between her legs, and spread her ass checks. Cindy possessed a very lovely little anus. I liked to watch it pucker up as my finger searched slowly inside.
She would moan, and press her ass up against my fingers, taking the digits deeply into her ass.
As the head of my organ slid slowly into the mouth of her anus, she would clamp her sphincter down on my tool, and moan with delight.
Lifting her ass up off the bed, I reached for her pussy, and pulled at her clit, while my cock pounded in and out of her rear entry hall.
While I frigged her, I pressed my tool rapidly in and out of her ass-hole.
She was moaning with extreme passion. It was quite obvious she was enjoying herself very much.
And so was I.
As my cock reached into the depths of her ass-hole, I licked the back of her neck, and bit it tenderly. That really turned her on. Got her excited.
I frigged her powerfully, while my tool worked in and out of her ass.
That ejaculation was the best.
I could feel the warm interior of her bowel clamping down on my tool, while my jism shot deeply into her rectum.
We went along like that for a long time. We would get together at least twice a week, and it kept me off the streets. It also kept me away from other girls.
I guess I had simply gotten to the point where I could no longer deal with the crap I got from straight women. I liked the honesty of hookers. With a hooker, I knew that we both knew exactly what we wanted from each other. Money and sex.
Unfortunately, Cindy disappeared from my life. She didn't even say goodbye.
After Cindy left, so went my sexual connection. For the longest time, I didn't meet anyone I could relate to including the hookers.
I just couldn't find any hookers who were cool enough for me.
It was last spring that Sarah's parents came to visit from Miami.
Sarah moved out of the apartment, to go stay with the owners of the art business. It was the first night of their arrival. I was walking up the street towards the apartment building.
And there she was, standing right in front of the building. She was looking real good. Her name was Belinda, and she was tall and blonde, with very long, shapely legs. Her ass was tight, like a young girl's.
"Hi, handsome," she smiled.
I could feel my organ stiffen.
I had waited a long time to meet this one.
"Do you live in the building?" I asked. "Or, are you working?"
"I'm working," she said. "Do you want to take me upstairs?"
"God, yes," I said. "I must take you upstairs. But there's a problem. You see I have a roommate. But she's gone."
"Then, there's no problem," she smiled.
"Yes there are," I said. "Her parents arrived today from Miami. They're upstairs in her room."
"Oh, that's too bad," she said. "I could really go for a guy like you."
"Are they cool?" Belinda asked, her blue eyes twinkling.
"I don't know," I said. "I haven't met them yet. But I have an idea."
"What's that?" she seemed wary of me.
"Come upstairs with me," I said. "You can hide in the hall stairwell. It will be very cool. I'll check them out, and figure a way to sneak you in."
"Very well," she said. "But I want thirty bucks."
"Fine," I said, directing her into the elevator. I gave her fifteen bucks up front, and told her I would give her the other fifteen when we were finished.
I really wanted her. She was so lovely, and sexy.
I had her wait in the stairwell, and went into the apartment.
I didn't see Sarah's folks. They were in Sarah's room. I could hear the television.
I knocked at the bedroom door.
"Yes, who is it?" a woman's voice asked.
"Mark," I said.
"Come in, Mark," I heard the woman say. I opened the door.
They were in bed. I reckon Sarah's mother was in her early seventies. Her father was in his early eighties. They were in bed, I suppose, getting ready to go to sleep.
"So, you're Mark?" she smiled. "We've heard all about you. Such wonderful things. So, you are a painter?"
"I try," I smiled, thinking about Belinda.
"Pleased to meet you," Sarah's father said.
"And I'm pleased to meet you," I said.
It was at that moment that I noticed the bulge in the blanket over the bed.
Sarah's father had an erection. I was totally amazed. I had no idea that old folks got in on like that. "Well, I guess you're ready for sleep?" I surmised.
"Yes," the woman blushed.
I closed the door behind me, and went out into the hall.
Belinda was still waiting.
I was surprised.
"Okay," I said. "It's cool. Come on in." The lovely blonde followed me into the apartment.
"Where are we going to do it?" she asked. "On the couch," I said. "That's where I sleep."
"Very good," she said, and began undressing.
"Please don't make too much noise," I said. "Okay."
When she had finished undressing, I was amazed by her beauty. Her blonde hair was real. The blonde pubes over her lovely pussy were even lighter than her hair.
Her breasts were small, and firm. Her nipples were pink, like fresh strawberry kefir. My penis was pounding.
She moved slowly towards me, her firm thighs beckoning me between her legs. Her pussy glistened with moisture. Her nipples grew taut.
"You like me?"
"I love you," I said. I couldn't believe that I had really said that. But I had. It was me. I did it. I guess it was happening all over again. This thing called true love.
But this time, Doctor, it was very clear to me that she was not a sweetheart. She was much harder than Cindy.
She had a mean streak in her. A mean streak a yard wide.
Maybe that's why I liked her so much.
I hurried to undress, and pulled the cover off the sofa. We got on the bed together, and pressed our bodies closely together. Our lips met in a hot embrace, and I took her breasts in my hands. While I kissed her on the mouth, I squeezed her breasts, aware of her lovely pink nipples growing taut.
"Give me a break, fellow," she said, "stop trying to turn me on, and get down to business. Or I'll have to tack on a surcharge."
"Why do you have to be so tough?" I asked.
"I'm just trying to make a living, guy," she said.
"Can I suck your pussy."
"That will cost you an extra ten bucks," she said.
"But I'm the one giving pleasure to you," I said. "Why should I have to pay, to get you off?"
"Because I said so," was her reply.
"Well, if you're going to be such a bitch about it," I said, "I'll pay you."
"It's not a question of being a bitch," she said. "You've got to understand that I'm doing this for a living. I'm not up here with you for kicks."
"Can't we pretend?"
"That will cost you another twenty," she said, in a business-like tone.
"Okay, okay," I said. "Pretend you don't like it. Go ahead."
"I don't have to pretend," she said. "This is taking much too much time. Maybe we should just forget it."
"No, please don't leave," I said. "No more talking. I'll just suck you. Okay?"
"If that's what you want," she sighed. She seemed bored. I was frightened.
I was afraid she would leave.
With her legs spread widely, I moved in for the suck.
I parted her labial lips with my fingers, and ran my tongue slowly over the pink fuck meat. She liked that a lot.
She was pumping up against me, gyrating on my tongue. But she didn't make a sound. If she was feeling good about what was happening, she certainly wasn't letting me in on it.
"Mark," I heard Sarah's mother call out, from the other room.
"Oh, God," I said, lifting my mouth from the gorgeous woman's vagina. "I think we've disturbed them."
"That's no skin of my back, honey," she said, closing her legs.
"I'll just go see what they want," I said. "I'll be right back. I promise."
"It better only a take a moment," she said. "I've about had it with this nonsense. There are plenty of Johns out on the street who won't put me through crazy changes."
"Just give me a minute, Belinda, okay?"
"One minute, and that's it," she said. "Otherwise..."
"I know," I cut her off. "It will cost me another twenty."
"Fifteen," she said, showing only the slightest trace of a smile.
"What is it?" I asked through the bedroom door.
"Are you all right?" Sarah's mother asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I thought I heard some moaning. It sounded like someone had a stomach ache. Is there someone else in there with you?"
"As a matter-of-fact," I said, "a friend stopped by. She's not feeling very well. I don't know if Sarah told you, but I used to be a hospital orderly. I'm trying to make her feel better now."
"Oye," Sarah's mother said. "I'd better come and take a look. The poor thing. Maybe I can help. Raising Sarah taught me all sorts of things."
"But..."
It was too late. The bedroom door was being opened.
I ran towards the sofa. I grabbed my pants, and pulled them on.
Belinda looked pissed. She pulled the covers up to her chin.
"So, what's the trouble?" the gray-haired woman asked, as she stood by the bed. "There's no trouble," Belinda said.
"But Mark said you weren't feeling well."
"I'm better now," Belinda said. "Are you sure I can't make you a cup of tea?"
"Really, I'm just fine," Belinda said. "Everything is just great."
"That's good," the woman said. "A speedy recovery. Mark, you know, you have a very lovely friend."
"Thank you," I said.
Belinda smiled.
"How about an enema?" the woman asked Belinda. "I used to give Sarah enemas when she wasn't feeling well."
"No, I'm just fine," Belinda said. "You go back to bed. That will be the best thing."
"Clara," Sarah's father called from the other room. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, dear," the gray-haired woman said. "Everything is just fine."
Belinda seemed relieved when Clara went back into the bedroom, and closed the door behind her.
"That will cost you another fifteen dollars," she said. "I can't be wasting my time like this."
"Please," I begged. "Don't do this to me. I'll pay. I'll pay what ever you say."
"Well, then finish what you started," she said, "you're paying for it." She pulled the covers down, and spread her legs.
Since I was paying for the privilege of sucking her pussy, I decided not to waste any time.
I moved right in between her lovely legs.
I could smell the dampness of her cunt. The ripened odors of her vagina excited me. I was thrilled. But Belinda wasn't showing her feelings.
She was behaving like a hardened hooker.
I moved my hands beneath her ass cheeks, and lifted her pussy to my mouth. I rested her weight on my thighs. I was crouched tightly in between her thighs, sucking wildly at her pussy. It was a delicious pussy. And my cock was pounding with excitement as I sucked at it. My tongue worked rapidly in and out of her vagina. I used my nose on her clit. As I rubbed up against it, she moaned with hot pleasure, and pumped wildly up against me.
Her pussy was on fire. She wasn't moaning at all, but I could tell she was as hot as a pistol. I pressed my finger up her ass, and nibbled on her clit meat.
Now, Doctor, I want you to know, that I'm no fool. I know a hot woman when I see one. And Belinda was hot. I really don't understand why she wouldn't get into it with me.
Why she wouldn't let me see her pleasure.
But, I'll tell you, Doctor, I'm no fool. I've been with enough women to know when I've got a hot one on my hands. And Belinda was hot. She was burning up with passion while I sucked her. And not one little sound.
She was torturing me with her silence. She was inflicting pain with her silence.
It was cruel.
But it turned me on.
"Doctor, does that mean I'm sick?"
Really? That's great to hear. Because I was really worried about it.
"That's enough of that," she said.
"Did you come?" I asked.
"That's a secret," she said.
"Why must you torment me?" I asked.
"Don't ask so many questions," she said. "I'm not charging extra for it, am I?"
"I guess I just don't understand you, Belinda," I said. "I'm totally confused."
"Don't try to understand me," I said. "It's just going to wear out your mind."
"Well, may I fuck you?"
"You're already paying for it," she said. "You'd might as well get into it."
"Yeah, I guess," I said, moving between her legs. "Tell me, darling, does anything touch you? Get close to you?"
"Nope."
"Well, at least I don't feel singled out for such punishment," I said, working my stiffened organ slowly into her tight, blonde pube covered vagina.
"Don't take it so personally," she said, as she pressed her vagina down over my rod.
I pumped slowly, and sensuously. It felt so good. God, did it feel good. Her pussy was hot. Really hot. Her body was alive with passion. I could see in her eyes that she was enjoying herself very much. She was giving in completely, but only to herself.
I worked my cock rapidly in and out of her vagina. Her pussy lips closed down firmly on my rod. She was squeezing me passionately. It was passion. There was no mistaking it.
Faster and faster I pumped. And she closed her pussy down tightly on me. It was a good grip. A powerful grip. I felt as though I were going crazy from it. I was absolutely on fire. Actual fire of passion.
The jism was burning in my sacs. It felt as though my cock was going to explode, shooting hot love syrup deeply into the woman's vagina. Filling her with my love.
It was only a question of when.
And that certainly didn't take very long. My cock moved rapidly in and out of her box. I squeezed her breasts, and tweaked her nipples.
My cock was working rapidly, in and out of her box. I was almost there. I stared into her eyes. They were like cat eyes. Magical eyes.
Intense eyes. Lustful eyes.
I sank my rod up to the hilt, and then I shot hot spunk into her. Oh, Doctor, it was so special. It was the most special. It never felt so good. Belinda's pussy drank my syrup. Her cunt sucked the jism from me. I felt all my juice being sucked into her. It was a wonderful feeling.
I looked into her face. She had her eyes shut tightly. She was concentrating completely on the delicious feelings that swept through her vagina. I moaned with pleasure. And still, she simply stared, blankly. But in those orbs was a hidden message. A cryptic code I had to decipher.
I felt compelled. Obsessed. Engrossed. I pulled my cock from her pussy, and sat beside her.
"Did you like that?" I asked.
"It was okay," she said.
"What do you want, for me to jump up and down and do back flips?"
"I just don't believe you," I said. "You've got a mean streak. Do you know that?"
"I wouldn't know about that," she said. "I don't normally analyze myself."
"You should," I said. "You know what Socrates said."
"Who?"
"An ancient Greek philosopher," I said.
"So, what did the Greek guy say."
"Know thyself."
"Listen, pal," she said. "Don't try to lay any head trips on me. Okay?"
"I wasn't trying to lay a head trip on you," I said. "I was just trying to get to know you."
"Forget about me," she said. "Maybe I don't want you to know about me."
"Okay, forget it," I pouted. "Be a bitch. If it turns you on, you could just be a damned bitch. See if I care."
"That's better, pal," she said. "Now you're catching on."
"Roll over," I said.
"It will cost you another twenty-five," she said.
"God, I just don't believe you," I said. "You never stop. Don't you ever give anything away? Not even to a friend?"
"Are you my friend?"
"Sure I am," I said.
"Don't make me laugh. Listen, buster, I'm not in the mood to take any shit off you. Cut out the emotional dribble, and shove your tool up my ass. Time is money, and I've just about wasted all that I feel like wasting.
"Okay, okay," I said, moving up between her legs, holding my cock in my hand, and taking aim. I was going up her rear. And I was feeling hot as hell.
There was something about this gorgeous young hooker that really pushed my buttons. I guess it was a complex trip, something in the subconscious mind. Some primitive yearning.
I pressed my tool slowly into her dung ditch. I sank in deeper and deeper. The hole grew hotter and hotter. She grunted several times. But that was just about all the pleasure she would give me.
At least, verbally.
I worked my cock slowly to the very depths of her rectum. I was buried all the way inside of her. She liked what was happenings She liked it very much. I worked my tool faster and faster, in and out of the tightened box, and then I came.
It certainly happened faster than I expected. So many orgasms, for just one girl.
But this girl did something for me. She did something great for me.
My tool worked rapidly in and out of her hole. She was gripping me tightly. She was satisfied.
And so was I.
But she wouldn't let me know. That was the only weird part of it. She just wouldn't let me see her pleasure.
"Did that hurt?" I asked, as I pulled the length of my phallus from her slit.
"You would like that, wouldn't you, you creep?" she looked strangely at me.
I could see the warm jism trickling from her slit, and anus, as she rolled over.
"So, where's the bread?" she asked, as she got off the bed, and took a package of handi-wipes from her purse. After cleaning off her pussy and anus, she dropped the soiled sponge into an ashtray. And then she got dressed. I got dressed, too.
I don't really know why. I guess I thought I would walk her down. What the hell, I figured it was the gentlemanly thing to do. I opened my wallet.
"What does it come to?" I asked.
"Seventy-five smackers," she said.
"Are you serious?" I exclaimed.
"Don't give me that shit," she said. "I told you what everything cost when you ordered it."
"You really are something, you know that."
"No I'm not," she said. "Just a working girl."
"That's a lot of money, you know?"
"Don't you think I was worth it?"
"I'm not saying," I replied.
Finally she smiled. Doctor, finally that lovely little blonde bitch cracked a smile.
It was worth the seventy-five bucks to see her smile. It really was. And she knew it.
The lovely blonde smiled all the way down in the elevator with me. But she wouldn't talk to me. That's the real weirdness. She just wouldn't talk.
"Why won't you talk to me?" I asked.
Nothing. Not a word.
I walked her out to the street. I figured I would just give her a peck goodbye.
That's when she blew my mind again. She suddenly took me into her arms, squeezed me tightly, and pressed her mouth to mine. We kissed passionately. Her tongue searched into my mouth. I could feel her swollen little breasts pressing up against me. Her nipples were swollen with pleasure.
She liked me.
But then, just as suddenly as she had grabbed me, to kiss me passionately, she pulled away.
"What's wrong now?" I asked.
"Did you think I kissed you because I wanted to?"
"Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I did."
"Not so," she said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that a cop just walked by," she said. "I didn't want him to recognize me."
"So, it was all an act?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," she said.
Doctor, I started to cry. I just couldn't take it anymore. I broke down, and began sobbing.
Right there on the street. Do you believe it?
And then she took me in her arms. It was suddenly different. She gave in to me. She cared for me. "You're a strange one," she said. "I'd better take you home and look after you. You definitely need some looking after."
I went home with her. Doctor. I've been with her ever since. Am I all right? What do you think? Do you think I'm sick?
CONCLUSION
Quite the contrary, I told Mark that I thought he had found himself very creative, and healthy situation. I endorsed his sadomasochistic relationship because it worked. And that made it healthy. And in my book, that's the definition of normalcy.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
SUBJECT: Dee AGE: Thirty
INTERVIEW ONE
This outrageously attractive brunette told me she found my phone number in the phone book. I do get patients that way from time to time. Dee had a most unusual problem. One of the reasons I am so fond of the vocation I've chosen for my life, is that I do get some highly interesting cases. I see aspects of life that very few people encounter. It makes for a rich and rewarding adventure in life. What follows is a taped transcript of my initial interview with one such interesting case.
Well, here I am, Doctor. I must tell you, I feel very strange being here with you today. I have a very odd problem, you see, and I'm just not sure how to deal with it.
You see, my husband is a patter writer.
You never heard of that? I guess it is rather unusual. You see, a patter writer is the person who writes the patter for singers, rock bands, and so on. You know, the stuff that seems off the cuff.
You thought it was spontaneous? No way. Do you think major performers would risk being themselves on stage?
That could lead to some very embarrassing moments. It could be rather awkward.
Well, that's what Franklin, my husband, does for a living. Don't get me wrong, Doctor. He makes plenty of money. He's a good provider. It's a blessing.
Sex?
Yes, we have sex.
Yes, I see. No, the sex is fantastic. It really is. That's not the issue. It's the way he talks to me while we make love. Not to mention at the dinner table, and in the bathroom. Everywhere. He drives me nuts.
He talks just the way he writes patter. Can you believe it?
That's right. He talks like that. I'm not sure what came first the patter, or the patter writing.
Yes, I'll explain exactly what I mean.
You see, when he and I are in bed together, it's like a performer on a stage, talking at an audience. "You probably wonder why I'm in bed with you?" he would say.
I'll tell you what, Doctor. Maybe the best way for me to deal with this, is to simply run through last night. It's the same every night. I might as well you about it.
There he is lying in bed, waiting for me to finish in the bathroom.
"You probably wonder what I'm doing in bed," he said. "I just thought that something interesting would happen. There's something to be said, for just letting things happen, don't you think?"
"What are you talking about?" I said. "There's nothing spontaneous about you. You probably wrote down all of this while I was in the bathroom. Where's the fuck script, Franklin?"
"Speaking of nudity," he said. "And you do look very nude to me..."
"I sleep in the nude every night," I said. "Why do you have to talk about it as if this was the first time you ever saw me nude?"
"So, we have an uptight audience today?" he said.
"Come off it, Franklin," I said.
"You might as well get into bed with me," he said. "Since you're standing there nude and all."
I climbed into bed with him. I would have gone into the living room, to sleep on the sofa, but the sofa is hard and bumpy. I keep meaning to buy a new one. So, every night I have to get into bed with his creep, and listen to his patter. Perhaps I'm a masochist. What do you think?
"I see you have a hard-on," I said.
"Now that you raised the subject," he smiled, "we might as well get a grip on it, eh? Grip the mike, honey. Go ahead."
"It's not a mike, you fool," I said. "It's an erection. It's your erection. Hello in there. Do you know who I am. I am your wife."
"Wives should always be lovers, too," he said. "Do you want to make love?"
"Do you want to make love?" he asked.
"Does MacDonalds have golden arches?" he smiled.
"Oh, God, have mercy," I said, lying on my back, with my legs open. I knew the only way to deal with his madness was to ignore it. As usual, I figured that if I just kept my mouth shut, and didn't listen to his patter, I might get off on what was happening. At least I would get a good fucking.
Franklin is a good lay. I suppose that's why I'm still married to him. A woman has to have a lay she can count on.
"Suck my pussy," I said. I figured that if his mouth was busy sucking on my hot snatch, he wouldn't be able to talk. That would shut him up I hoped.
I should have known better.
"What a deep tunnel," he said, as he lowered his mouth to my groin. "Did I ever tell you the anecdote about the construction of the Panama Canal?"
"Would you just give me a break and suck on my vagina?" I said.
That shut him up, at least temporarily.
Finally, I was able to enjoy some conjugal pleasure. I figured I deserved it.
His mouth moved to my pussy. He wasn't talking. It was glorious. He pulled my labial lips apart, and ran his tongue over my fuck flesh. I could feel my clit begin to throb with pleasure. Faster and faster his tongue worked over my pussy flesh.
I could feel the tension building. It swirled about in my groin. I was red-hot with joy, and expectation. While his tongue worked about inside my fuck hole, I could feel the orgasm begin to build.
I'll say one thing for him, he sure knows how to suck pussy.
I was burning up with passion. My clit was throbbing. I was almost there. I was very close to the magical moment. The moment of orgasmic lift-off.
"Oh, God," I moaned. "I'm going to come."
"She'll be coming around the mountain, when she comes, when she comes," he lifted his mouth off my pussy and broke out in song.
You see how it is, Doctor? I can't even say that I'm going to come. Immediately, he starts in on me. What sort of a curse is this? My God, I just don't believe it.
Franklin can tell when I'm going to come. He finally shuts his trap. That at least is some respect for me, right?
But can you imagine what it's like to listen to such bullshit?
It's fucked.
As I come, he really gets into it. He sucks me, and nibbles on my clit, while I work up to the precipice of orgasm, and then leap over. Falling into the valley of orgasmic delight, I feel as though I'm flying. Flying high up over the valley of pleasure. My body is thrilled.
INTERVIEW TWO
I had to cut Dee short during her initial interview, as I received an emergency call from one of my patients. She had slashed her wrists. It's so prevalent these days. I called an ambulance, and reserved a room for her at Bellevue. I did schedule Dee for a second deeper, interview. She hadn't really given me enough to go on. What follows is a taped transcript of her second interview.
Is she all right? The girl who slashed her wrists. Oh, that's good. You know, I worried about her all week. Isn't that strange?
Franklin?
He's worse than ever. Doctor, he's getting worse. I just don't know what to do. Take last night for instance. Every night is the same. But only worse.
After he had sucked my pussy, until I came, he turned over on the bed, exposing his huge erection.
"Speaking of hot dogs," he said, "I was wondering if you would like to suck on mine."
"Why do you have to tease me like that?" I asked. "Come on, Franklin, give me a break. Stop tormenting me. Okay?"
"Torment?" he looked dumbfounded. "Aren't you enjoying the show?"
"This isn't a show, Franklin," I said. "That's what you just can't seem to get through your head. This is real life. Get it?"
"Okay, bitch," he said. "Fuck with my head. You want me to be unhappy? Is that it?"
"Oh, God, Franklin," I said. "Let's stop bickering. Let me suck your cock."
"Okay," he said. "Suck my cock. Knock yourself out."
He was angry, but I just couldn't let it bug me. I couldn't let him get to me. I didn't want to care.
I really think he enjoys giving me pain. He uses words, and patter on me, the way sadists use whips.
I moved my mouth over the head of his organ. I squeezed the mammoth tool between my lips, and worked my mouth up and down on the shaft. He was getting hotter and hotter. I worked my mouth on him faster and faster.
"That's right," he pattered. "Suck it, mama. You're doing a very fine job. Did I ever tell you how vacuum cleaners and women are alike?"
I wasn't listening. I made that very clear to him, in the way I looked at him.
His cock was throbbing in my mouth. I knew he was going to come. I couldn't wait to feel his hot juice fill my mouth. I knew it would turn me on. I couldn't wait for the thrilling pleasure of his hot jism to rush into my mouth. It was the only benefit of sucking his cock. Believe me, Doctor, I wasn't doing it to show him my appreciation for being so kind to me.
As far as I'm concerned, he does it on purpose. It's his entire sadistic trip. He's sick.
Finally, after mumbling absurd patter, which I almost succeeded in shutting out, he shot his load into my mouth. It was hot, and thrilling as it rushed into my mouth.
I gobbled it down as best I could. The hot spunk ran down my throat. It turned me on.
It turned me on a lot.
Faster and faster he worked his tool in and out of my mouth.
I could feel the hot tension of his cock building. He was almost there. He was on the verge of coming. And then he came. He gushed hot come into my mouth.
"Oh, God," he groaned, "you sure did turn me on. You really did. I'm so excited."
I was licking the come off my lips, I was feeling good. Real good. Really I was.
And then he started in on me again.
"I suppose you would like me to fuck you?"
"Only if you gag yourself."
"Speaking of gagging, that reminds me of a gag I heard back in the army. That was a gag in itself. The army."
"But, that was long ago."
"Did I ever tell you the gag about the gag law in the senate?"
"No," I said, "and if you do I will divorce you on the spot."
"What's with the threats?" he said.
"Let's not have another boring dialogue, okay?" I pleaded with him, not to torture me with his patter spewing mouth, while I turned over on my back.
"Okay, you bitch," he said, getting angry, for no apparent reason, "If it's fucking you want, I'll give you a fuck to remember. You won't forget this fucking for awhile. Let me tell you."
I guess he really meant it. He sure shoved his cock powerfully up my vagina.
It felt like a red hot iron had just been shoved up my pussy. It was a terrible pain. An absolutely fiendish pain. So, it seemed to be that the truth was finally coming out. I was seeing the real side of him. The sick, and perverted side of him.
"Please, not so hard, honey, you're hurting me."
"So, now we bring up the subject of pain?"
"You've been bringing it up daily since you, you started writing patter," I said.
"Why don't you try writing some songs? It would be much better if you sang to me. I would like that a whole lot better."
"You probably would," he said. "How about if I write sadomasochistic pornographic stories. Maybe you would like that?"
Then it suddenly occurred to me that he wasn't lying. He was telling me the truth. He couldn't help it.
He was what he wrote. And that would apparently continue for as long as he wrote.
I began to feel guilty.
I started to think about what it would be like if he wrote other things.
While he was turning me over, preparing to take the Hershey highway, up my rectum, I considered the alternatives. If he wrote children's stories, he would drive me right up the wall. And if he wrote science fiction, he would drive me nuts with outer space lingo. And if he wrote murder mysteries Jesus, I shudder to even think about that.
Maybe I'll just stay with him. Perhaps it's not so bad, really.
"I guess I can get use to the problem, sooner, or later."
CONCLUSION
I had to agree with her, under the circumstances. It wouldn't be a wise move for her to leave her husband especially if she loved him. It could put him in a very dangerous mental state.
I understand writers. I know how they make up stories. I know how they live in strange realities.
I also suggested, that considering the different kinds of writing there are, that she would be making the wrong move to force him into another genre.
I suggested that she learn to live with the man. That seemed the best solution.
CASE HISTORY SIX
SUBJECT: Cynthia AGE: Twenty-Two
INTERVIEW ONE
This very lovely, petite, young blonde, wandered into my office off the street, with tears in her eyes.
She was fortunate that she found me in. I was just about to go home for the day, but my heart was moved by her sadness. Her lovely blue eyes were all red from crying. It was quite sad.
After I got her to stop crying, this is what she had to say
Doctor, I blew it. I tortured him just once too much.
Yes, I'll be specific.
I met Richard in New York. We were on the street. I think I was looking for a market that was still open. I wanted to make a big fresh salad. It was summer, I recall. During the summer, I just eat salads, and drink plenty of beer.
Richard was looking for a pack of cigarettes.
"Excuse me," he said. "But would you happen to know where I can find a place to buy some smokes?"
He looked cute. Usually, I avoid getting involved with strangers. But there was a vulnerability about him. He was gorgeous. I suppose I'm highly sexual. It's strange for me to direct that power. I get all confused.
"I have some smokes," I said. "But do you have any salad makings?"
"Not on me."
I liked his sense of humor.
I gave him a cigarette.
"You're really nice, for a New Yorker," he said.
I sort of took that as a challenge. I felt as though he was fucking with my mind.
He was. But I didn't mind. I was going to get even. It all came to be instantly. I had been looking for a man like him for such a long time.
A man I could toy with like a cat, with a mouse.
"I was going to make a salad," I said. "But I'm not hungry any more. Why don't you come up to my place with me?"
"Sure," he smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."
I liked his brashness. I thought I could have some fun with him.
So, I brought him home.
He seemed glad to be with me. I know how lonely men can get in New York.
It's a strange city.
Up in my place, I noticed right away that he was checking out the bed. That's obviously where he wanted to be.
With me.
"May I kiss you?" he asked, staring hungrily into my eyes.
"I'm not sure I wouldn't rather just fuck you," I said.
"Are you serious?"
"I've never been more serious in my life," I said.
"Can I kiss you anyway?"
"Sure, knock yourself out."
"I'm not sure if I like your attitude."
"I'm not sure if I care," I said. "So, you're a tough one, eh."
"Yeah," I said, "I guess so. Is that going to scare you off."
"No," he said.
He moved towards me, and put his arms around me. "You are so very beautiful."
"You're not so bad yourself," he said, as he opened my blouse, and ran his hand over my breast. He squeezed my titty. It became swollen with pleasure. He had a nice touch. Really he did. He pulled at my nipple, and it grew taut.
"So, you like me, eh?"
"Don't push," I said. "If you want to fuck, that's fine. Just don't try to analyze me. Okay?"
"Okay," he gave in. I had the upper hand. I was just where I wanted to be.
He pulled my blouse off, and worked his hands over my tits. His mouth moved from nipple to nipple, giving me great pleasure. Great pleasure indeed.
I unzipped his pants. I wanted to see how big his meat stick was. I'm fond of meat sticks.
I pulled his pecker from his pants. It was large, and pulsating with desire. I worked my hand up and down the length of his fuck stick. He began groaning with pleasure. His balls were firm. I pushed against them, and he moaned with pleasure.
"I want to suck your pussy," he said.
"You certainly don't beat around the bush, do you?" I asked.
"I wouldn't mind beating around your bush," he smiled.
"You're a pervert, you know that?"
"And you're a little angel, right?"
"I wouldn't go so far as that," I said. "But I obviously think about things besides sex."
"Meaning?"
"Give me a break, lady," he said. "Can't I just make love to you?"
"Yeah," I said. "Knock yourself out."
He was fun to play with. I climbed out of of my pants. I was going to let him play with me. I wanted to see how bold he would be if I let him run rampant.
"God damn, you are lovely," he said, admiring my firm young breasts, well developed figure, yellow-pube covered snatch, and a child-like fanny.
I know how men react to me. It's funny, I think.
In any case, there we were, naked before each other's eyes. We were both extremely attracted to each other. It was clear we were in love, I should say in lust.
Yes, lust was more like it.
Richard pressed his body to mine. His firm cock pressed up against my moistened snatch.
He worked his cock back and forth over my sex meat.
I was burning up with passion. Every nerve in my body was aching with pleasure. I didn't let him know it, however.
I kissed him passionately, working my pelvis against his. His stiff rod worked slowly, back and forth, over my pussy meat. My clit was throbbing with pleasure.
We were both becoming extremely turned on.
Hot as pistols, really.
We were in lust all right.
He lifted me up to the bed. We lay together on the mattress, facing each other on our sides.
He moved close to me, working his prick up against my pussy. He worked it back and forth. Slowly, he took me higher and higher. I could feel the hot juices pouring from my slit.
He kissed me. I was hooked
And when he rolled me over on my back, and spread my legs apart, my pussy ached with desire. I was dripping fuck juices. My clitoris was swollen with passion.
I worked my pussy up against his mouth, as he began to cunt suck me. I was on fire with desire. His fingers searched inside my organ. They worked rapidly back and forth over my pussy flesh. I was on fire with passion.
I tried to hold back. I tried not to share my great pleasure with him. But I know he could tell. He could tell plenty.
I came. God did I come. I don't know if any man has ever gotten me off like that before.
He took me higher than I've ever been before.
Finally, after my orgasms had ceased, he lifted his mouth from my sex.
"You sure do get hot, don't you?"
"From time to time," I said. "Why, does it bother you?"
"No, not at all. I like it."
"Would it be presumptuous of me to ask you to suck my cock?"
"Yes," I said, "It would be presumptuous as hell."
"Well, would you, anyway."
"If you beg, I just might."
"What a bitch you can be, you know that."
"Skip the analyzation, okay?" I gave him a sick smile.
"Yeah, sure, what ever you say," he relented.
I moved to his side, and took his pecker in hand. God, it was a nice one. I liked it plenty. Heaps. I began stroking his tool. It turned darker and darker.
It was throbbing. His eyes were shut tightly.
He was burning up with glorious passion.
I moved my mouth over the head of his fuck stick. He groaned with hot pleasure. He liked it all right. I knew how to take care of him.
Moving my mouth rapidly up and down the length of his meat, I felt the power of his jism ascend up the length of his fuck stick. He was going to shoot.
But I was going to play some games with him first.
I sucked him until he was on the brink of orgasm. Right up until he was ready to shoot. Ready to fill my mouth with hot jism.
"Oh, you sweet angel of fuck," he groaned. "Where did you learn to suck like that?"
"If you keep asking me questions," I said, lifting my mouth off his cock, "you're never going to get off."
"Please suck," he said. "Forget my questions."
So, after putting him back inside my mouth, he was happy again. This time, he kept his mouth shut. I kept mine open.
I worked my mouth up and down the length of his fuck stick. He was burning up with passion.
I could tell by the way his tool was working in and out of my mouth, that he was going to come.
He was going to shoot his hot load of spunk into my mouth. I wanted it.
He shot off in my mouth.
I gulped the spunk down. It tasted good. It flowed slowly down the back of my throat.
No sooner then had he pulled his organ from my mouth, was he ready to fill my pussy with his manness.
He moved his cock slowly into my opened cunt.
He was moaning with pleasure, and so was I.
We were both extremely turned on.
Faster and faster we worked our bodies together.
The passion mounted.
His cock felt heavenly inside my pussy.
I clamped down on him.
"Yes, yes, yes," he said. "You are a perfect little fuck angel. We're going to far together. I just can't believe it. It's so good.
My mouth was pressed against his.
It was as if he wanted to catch my moans like colorful butterflies.
He worked his mouth down to my breast, as his cock pounded in and out of my pussy.
He was just about there.
Just a few more strokes.
I had him. He was wrapped around my little finger. He was my slave.
It was wonderful.
He shoved his cock powerfully into my slit. And there he came.
His jism felt wonderful as it shot off as if from a pistol into my steamy slit. I pressed my legs tightly together, as if trying to catch his load, and the love syrup poured into me. It filled me up.
It was heavenly.
INTERVIEW TWO
Based on the first interview with the lovely young blonde, it was apparent to me that she was nurturing a highly sadomasochistic relationship with this Richard individual.
I would have to hear more, to construct a responsible diagnosis, but it did seem that Cynthia fitted the mold of the sadistic young beauty. In psychiatric terms, we refer to this personality complex as delusions of grandeur. Among ourselves, in the psychiatric community, we refer to these young women as: New York bitches. The following is a taped transcript of the second interview with the young woman. In it, much more is revealed, concerning the complex, sadistic personality of this lovely young woman.
Let me see. Where did I leave off last time?
Oh, you want to hear about that? What are you, some sort of pervert?
Very well. But only if it really is for clinical reasons. You wouldn't be putting me on, would you?
Yes, I enjoyed having coitus with him. That is fucking, isn't it? You know, Doctor, he was ready to go right on ahead. One thing I'll say about Richard is that he has an enormous sexual appetite. It's absolutely voracious.
I guess that's why I liked him so much. Well, I wouldn't really say I liked him. It was more that I enjoyed having him under my control. He had an amazing quality of vulnerability. And that, coupled with his intense sexuality, really turned me on. It was like a sexual judo, I guess. I was able to control his sexual tension. To use it for my own benefit.
"Can I bugger you?" he asked me.
"Are you kidding?" I said. "No one gets to put their cock up my ass."
"Please," he pleaded. "Don't be so mean to me."
"It's not a question of my being mean," I said. "You would be mean to force me to go through such a horrendous sexual experience.
"I really can't let you do that."
"You know, you are really a bitch," he said.
"Because I don't want you to shove your cock up my little ass?" I questioned his reasoning.
"I suppose that's what it amounts to," he said. "You have such a lovely little ass. It would just be entirely mean of you not to let me fill it up with my meat stick."
"Come on, honey," he sighed. "Let me enjoy it."
"Only if I could shove something up your ass," she said. "We might as well make it fair."
"That depends on what you want to shove up my ass," he said.
"How about that candle over there?" I said. "That's about the size of your cock."
"I guess," he said. "But do we really have to do this?"
"It's only fair."
"You are a little bitch, you know that?" he said. "You know I want desperately to shove my cock up your ass. And you won't let me. In my book, that's supreme cruelty."
"Well, in my book," I said, "you are a very nasty man. A filthy-minded pervert."
"Yes, I'll cop to that," he said. "And if it's really so damned important to you, you can shove the candle up my ass. I don't know what kind of a pervert you are. But you are one. That's for sure."
"Very well," I smiled. "I was getting to him. That really turned me on. I got up off the bed, and went to the bathroom. There, I got a jar of vaseline.
Returning to the bedroom, I picked up the candle, and took the goodies to his side on the bed.
He was glaring at me with anger. "You are really serious, aren't you?"
"Sure, all's well that ends well," I said.
"Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?" he said.
"Take it any way you want," I said. "But, as far as I'm concerned, you are a big pain in the ass. I'm just going to give you a little of your own medicine."
"You are sick lady, you know that?"
"No more sick than you, my friend," I smiled.
I dipped the end of the candle into the jar of vaseline, and spreading his legs apart, I pressed the candle slowly up his ass. He moaned with pain.
"On second thought," he grunted, "I don't think this is meant for me."
"Well, if you want me to pull it out," I said, "that will blow your chances to shove your cock up my ass."
"You drive a hard bargain, you know that?" he looked at me, angrily.
"Take it, or leave it," I smiled, jamming the candle deeply into his ass.
"Oh, God," he groaned, "you're killing me. Why do you have to be such a mean bitch?"
"I'm not a mean bitch," I said. "I'm just like you."
"Please," he groaned, "how much longer does this have to last?"
"Not much," I said. "I'm almost there now. Just slow down."
"Almost where?"
"When I shove this candle all the way up your ass, then I'll be finished."
"The entire candle?" he was upset.
"That's right, pal," I smiled, as I shoved the entire length of wax dildo up his ass.
He moaned with hot pleasure, and worked his ass about on the candle.
I guess I turned him on somewhat.
That was the time to pull it out. I wasn't in any kind of mood to give him pleasure.
After I had pulled the candle from his behind, it took him some time to recover from the intrusion.
His face was flushed. His body was covered with perspiration.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I smiled, placing the candle down on the carpet.
"Now, may I have my turn?" he looked a little white in the face at that point. I feared I had really hurt him. You see, Doctor, I didn't really want to hurt him. I just wanted to teach him a lesson. To show him who was boss. Can you understand that?
"Okay," I said. "You can stop looking so sad. You can bugger me now, if you wish."
"I wish," he said, turning me over on my belly, and working his hands slowly over my firm ass globes. "You have a lovely rear end, you know that?"
"Thank you," I said. "So I've been told."
"Has anyone ever fucked you in the ass before?" he asked.
"Sure, all the time," I said. "It wasn't true, Doctor. But I just wanted to give him a hard time. You understand.
Yes, it does give me pleasure to torment men. I live for it. It seems that it's the best game in town. All the girls do it.
Well, Doctor. There I was, on my belly, with my vulnerable little ass-hole, completely exposed to him.
He moved between my legs, and spread my globes apart. He pressed his finger up into my ass, and opened me up. My ass was throbbing with expectation. I wanted it to happen. I just wanted to make him suffer for it.
In a way, I was doing him a favor. After all, it obviously turned him on. I know how men are. I understand them quite well. While he pressed his tool slowly up to my anus, I gripped the sheets, and tried to find a comfortable position for the forced entry.
The large penis sank slowly into the sunset of my rear end.
I moved up against it, and my rear ached with tension. He pressed harder and harder, and then he entered the opening. His cock pressed deeply into my bowel.
Talk about pain, Doctor. That was pain. That was real pain.
His tool worked slowly in and out of me. I could feel his balls slapping up against my ass.
We were united in a hot sexual grip. It felt good. It really did. I was doing my best not to let him know. I was dreaming of ways of further humiliating him, and making him suffer for what he had done to me. His cock pressed deeply into my ass.
I gripped his rod firmly in my anal sphincter ring, and squeezed down on him.
He moaned with hot pleasure, and his tool pressed in to the hilt. His balls were resting on the opening of my behind. A heat such as I have never known pounded in my behind.
Faster and faster he worked his rod in and out of my ass.
I lifted my pelvis up off the bed, and moaned with glorious pleasure as his rod worked like a piston, in and out of my ass.
The friction was amazing.
So was the pleasure.
I grasped at my clitoris, and pulled it. I pinched it delightfully, and felt a warm wave of glorious pleasure surround me. My body was bathed in delight, and pleasure.
I was keeping it to myself.
I stroked my magic button, while Richard's stiff rod worked in and out of me. He was panting, and gyrating about with hot pleasure. I could tell by the way his organ spasmed in my behind, that he was almost there. He would shortly be able to shoot his load into my ass.
As his cock sank in to the hilt, he did shoot. His hot spunk went rushing into my ass. I was filled with him. I was burning up with pleasure. And with passion.
It felt good.
"Oh, you sweet little angel sent from God," he moaned. "You make me feel so good. I just don't believe it."
"Well, you should believe it," I said. "It's good for you."
"I really don't understand you," Richard said. "You are a woman of amazing contrasts. I don't know what's happening with you. Please tell me you love me?"
"That's enough of that," I said. "I think it would be best if you put your clothes on, and left now."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I think you like me too much. It's not good to like someone so much. It's unhealthy."
"Why don't you let me worry about that?" he asked.
"No, I think it would be better if I thought about it," I said. "Go ahead, Richard. Please get dressed. Leave me now."
"But, when can I see you again?" he asked.
"When I say," I said.
"Please, don't be so mean to me. Look, I'm getting dressed. I'm being a good boy."
"Just get out of my life, okay?"
"Yes," he sighed. "Okay. What ever you say. God, you are a mean lady."
"Take my address," I said. "I think it would be best for you to communicate with me through the mail."
"Through the mail?"
"Yes," I said. "I think we should be romantic pen pals."
"Oh, you are certainly a mean bitch," he said. "How about if I call you on the phone?"
"No, just write. Now, Richard. Please go. I want to be alone."
"You are so cruel," he said. "I just can't believe it."
"Well, you might as well believe it," I said. "You'd better get it though your thick head for once and for all, that if there is going to be a relationship. It's going to have to be on my terms."
"You are a cruel, and selfish bitch," he said.
"That's it," I said. "Get out. I never want to see you again. You are just no good. Absolutely no good."
"And you are cruel," he said.
I wrote down my address, and gave it to him.
Sure enough, a week later, there was a letter from him in the mail box.
I brought the first letter along with me. I thought you might be interested in it.
You want me to read it aloud?
Very well "Dear Cynthia," the letter began. "I suppose you were expecting this letter. I've thought about you a great deal. I guess you know that I love you. I made it rather obvious. With a girl like you, I reckon that's a mistake.
"I know you are the kind of woman who enjoys having to chase after the man having to be confused. It's a charge for you. We don't like things that come too easily, do we?
"I just can't help it. I do love you, Cynthia. In fact, I don't think I could live without you. Do you know what it means to feel that way about someone. Can you imagine?
"Try. It won't hurt you.
"I want to see you again. I'll do anything you say. You can spit on me, piss on me, and shit on me. If that would make you happy, then knock yourself out. I guess, I'm just trying to say that I love you.
"Do you think I'm sick? I don't care. I just know that I can't go on like this. I think about you constantly.
"My cock is so raw from masturbating, thinking about you, that I can't hardly walk.
"Don't play me for a fool. Please write, and tell me when I can see you again."
I must say, Doctor, that I was rather impressed with him. I had succeeded in possessing him. I felt so powerful, and important. I don't know if you can imagine what a rush that was. How exhilarating it was for me.
I wrote back. I gave him the time and place. It was my place, at eight P.M., last Friday. I had all sorts of preparations I wanted to make. There's a little sex shop down the street, which peddles all sorts of neat sex toys. I was going to throw a party for Richard. A party for just he and I.
At the sex shop, I purchased a large strap-on dildo, thinking about how much he hated to be fucked in the ass; a set of handcuffs, and wrist restraints, and a riding crop. I spent nearly a hundred bucks on the goodies. I figured it would be worth it, because we would have so much fun together.
I was dressed for him when he arrived. I was wearing only a salmon colored silk camisole. Nothing else, except for my spiked-heeled black boots.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I thought I looked sensational. I could see my blonde pubes bushing out beneath the edge of the camisole, and my small breasts were firm, and pressed sensuously out against the soft material. I had my lovely blonde hair pulled back in a high pony tail French style.
He was impressed all right.
He was head over heels in love with me.
If only you could have seen the way he was beaming when he arrived at my apartment.
He had a bunch of daisies, a box of candy, and a bottle of wine. He looked very much like a man who was courting.
But he was courting danger with me. He just didn't realize it.
"My God," he moaned, upon seeing me. "You look absolutely ravishing. I just can't believe it. So sexy!"
"You haven't seen anything yet," I said. "Take off your clothes, and let's get the party underway."
"That's the best proposition I've had all day long," he said, setting his gifts down on the table and getting undressed.
"Thanks for the presents," I said.
"It was my pleasure, indeed," he smiled, while removing his clothes.
He looked so good without any clothes on.
I was really turning him on with my outfit.
His cock was as stiff as a board, as it popped out of his trousers.
I led him to the bed.
"Lay on your back," I said.
"What are you going to do to me?" he asked.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," I smiled.
"So, you're starting right in on me?"
"You know you like it."
He gave me a cynical smile. But his cock was stiff. I knew what he wanted to do with it. But I knew how it would happen. It would happen the way I wanted it to happen.
When he was on his back on the bed, I cuffed his wrists together, and forced them over the bed post. He was stretched out. I tied his ankles to the other bed posts.
He was spread eagle, with his cock standing straight up. He was obviously anxious for some action.
I leaned over him, and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. That thrilled him.
He was burning up with passion. I kissed him, teasingly on the mouth, working my tongue very slowly into his mouth. He wanted to suck my tongue deeply into his mouth.
That's when I pulled it out.
"Please don't tease," he said. "I brought all those presents, so you would be nice to me. Now, you are being mean. What will it take?"
"More than you've got, buster," I said. I thought that sounded cool.
I moved my hand down to his cock, and squeezed it.
"Oh, yeah," he moaned, "that feels good. That feels real good."
"I'm glad you like it," I said. "I'll bet this handsome cock of yours would just love to be in my snatch."
"That's true," he sighed. "Would you do that? Would you fuck me? Come on, honey. Climb up on that stick, and ride it. It will be well worth it. I'll turn you on. I promise."
"You never give up, do you?" I asked him.
"Of course not," he said. "Why should I?"
"You need a little more self-control, my friend," I said. "Along with a good dose of discipline."
With that, I reached for the riding crop.
"What the hell are you going to do with that?"
"I'm going to teach you a lesson," I said. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course I mind," he said. "I'm not a horse, you know? I don't think I'll be needing a whipping. Why don't you just sit on my face, or slide your box down on my cock?"
"Later for that," I said. "First a little punishment for you."
He looked scared. I liked that. I began beating him with the whip. I started softly, working on his thighs. And then I started on his belly, and his chest.
He didn't like it. That much was clear.
I whipped him until tears began to fall from his eyes.
"Oh, is the poor baby unhappy?" I smiled.
"You are a witch, you know that?"
"Thanks a lot," I said. "But I'm not witch. I'm going to give you pleasure now. Would a witch do that?"
"No, I guess not," he said. But he still looked angry. I think he was just playing along with me.
I figured he wanted to just get even with me. He wanted to do something mean to me.
I figured I would give him a cooling down period.
I moved my leg over him, and lowered my pussy to his cock.
He seemed a little happier.
"Just relax," I said. "I won't be so bad. I think you're just being a little melodramatic."
"Fuck me, please," he moaned. "Cut out the chatter."
"You be nice!" I said.
"Yes, ma'am," he sulked, while my moistened pussy moved slowly over the head of his cock. I felt it pulsating as it moved slowly into my box. I squeezed my pussy lips down on his shaft, and felt the delightful spasms of his rod in my organ.
I must say, in all fairness, Doctor, that I really did enjoy having sex with him. His cock felt good in me. Real good. He moved it rapidly in and out of my vagina. I could feel the heat pulsating between our groins. The rhythm was intense. I was getting very close to the point. Soon, I would come. It was a good fuck.
I reached down and pressed my fingers against my clitoris. I could feel the hot passion work through my groin. I could feel the tension building up to the critical mass level.
And then my vagina burst into pleasure. It was like a flower opening up. It was like the springtime of my sexuality.
"Yes, yes, yes," I moaned, as my body was overwhelmed by sex. I felt it in every nerve fibre in my body. I was burning up with passion.
I was on fire.
"Oh, God," I groaned, "It's wonderful. Please don't stop."
And he didn't. His cock continued to pound in and out of my moistened pussy. We were both on fire with glorious passion.
His cock rammed deeply into my pussy, and then he shot. In the midst of the flood of hot jism into my pussy, I orgasmed as well.
I screamed with delight, as I felt his hot juices flood my vagina. His tool worked slowly but surely in and out of my pussy. When we had both completed our cycles, I lifted my box off his tool.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"It wasn't exactly a holiday," he said. "I mean, it's not much fun being roped, tied, and restrained. And then beaten. And only after all of that, fucked. I mean, don't you think that's a rather heavy price to pay for a piece of ass?"
"Not really," I said. "Do you think flowers and candy are enough?"
"If you'll look in the pocket of my jacket," he said. "You'll find a small box. Look inside. That's what I wanted you to see. I would like to know if that's enough."
I left him restrained on the bed, and went to the pile of clothes on the floor. Looking through his pockets, I found the small box he had described. I opened it. It was a ring. Oh, Doctor, it was such a lovely ring.
It was a diamond ring, ringed with emeralds. It was so beautiful. It must have set him back a couple of thousand dollars.
"Where did you get the money for this?" I asked. "I knew Richard wasn't rich."
"Did you steal it?"
"Thanks a lot for the compliment," he said. "Tell me, do I really look like a God-damned criminal to you?"
"Nowadays, you can't tell, just by the way a person looks," I said.
"Well, I didn't steal it," he said. "I have a cousin in the jewelry business."
"Well, however you got it," I said, "thanks a lot. It's lovely. I think I'll put it on."
I put it on my right hand.
"It's suppose to go on the left hand," he said. "It is an engagement ring."
"I think I prefer it on my right hand," I said. "You don't mind, do you?"
"You are a stinking little cunt, you know that?"
"Watch what you say, pal," I said. "You're the one tied-up, not me. And I've got the riding crop."
"You never give in, do you?" he said. "You're the most stubborn little bitch I've encountered in a month of Sundays."
"A quaint expression, you fool," I smiled, strapping on the dildo.
"What are you going to do with that monster?" he asked.
"Well, I just figured that you would want to bugger me. And you know how I feel about that you know, tit for tat, and even-Stephen, and all that."
"Oh, you really know how to piss a man off, don't you?"
"It's an art, my friend," I smiled. "And you love it, don't you?"
"No!"
"Well, I won't fuck you in the ass, if you don't fuck me in the ass."
"But I want to so much."
"Then, I'll have to roll you over. No. On second thought, I think I'll just untie your ankles, and lift you up."
I freed his ankles from their restraints, and lifted his ass up off the bed.
His cock was firm. But he didn't at all seem happy about what was happening.
"You're not taking any chances with me, are you?"
"Why should I trust you?" I said. "You're just a horny man, right?"
"You've got me all wrong, lady," he said.
"We'll see about that," I said, as I pressed the end of the dildo into his ass.
"Jesus Christ," he moaned. "That hurts. You're really a bastard, you know that?"
"Bitch, not bastard, pal," I smiled, as I pressed the artificial organ deeper and deeper into his rectum.
"I get it confused with you," he said. "You act like a man a lot."
"Just because I wear a dildo," I said, shoving the enormous leather instrument deeply into his ass, "doesn't mean that I'm a man. It just means that I'm getting off on filling you up. Why should you have all the fun?"
"God, you are tough," he moaned with discomfort.
But I continued to ram the tool in and out of his ass.
I did it until he surrendered.
When he finally stopped fighting me, I pulled the instrument from his ass. He seemed tame. like a little lamb.
"You've been a good boy," I said. "I suppose it will be okay if you sodomize me now."
Gee thanks."
He immediately began rubbing his wrists.
"You hurt me, you know that?"
"Ah, it did you good," I said. "Stop bitching. A little pain can give a lot of pleasure."
I went down on my belly.
"You can fuck me in the ass if you want," I said. "You've been a good boy."
"Thank you," he said.
But then, after he was free, his expression changed drastically.
He grabbed me, and forced me down on the bed. His cock was huge, and pounding.
He pressed the tip of his organ up against my anus, and pushed his way in.
He was so big. And he was angry.
That was a bad combination.
I was going to suffer. That's for sure. He wanted me to suffer.
He forced his tool deeply into my ass. He gripped me by the shoulders, to make sure I wouldn't escape. His fingers felt painful as they gripped me. Gripped me too firmly.
His cock was buried all the way inside me. He was pounding it in and out of me. I could feel the heat rising in his tool. I was on fire with sexual lust. Faster and faster he pounded his tool in and out of my ass. It felt as though I would pass out.
It was that painful.
Again and again he pounded his tool up my ass. It hurt terribly. I thought I would pass out.
It was insane what he was doing. He hated me.
I didn't hate him. I was just playing with him. He was taking it all so seriously. Painfully serious. I was humiliated.
I felt as if he had turned on me. He was making a fool of me. I was shattered. Totally shattered.
I was also filled with pain. Intense, terrible pain. His tool worked rapidly in and out of my ass-hole.
I began to cry.
But that didn't help. He just kept right on pounding his tool in and out of my ass.
I was burning up. Being roasted alive by his hot cock. He shoved his tool into me, up to the hilt. And then he came. His come was hot as it rushed into my bowel. He filled me with his spunk. I was out of my mind with burning lust.
But he stopped. He didn't even try to make me come.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He pulled the engagement ring off my finger, threw on his clothes, and stalked out. "I don't ever want to see you again!" he screamed. "I've had it with bitches. I'm totally sick and tired of them."
CONCLUSION
Apparently, Richard was no fool, after all. It took him awhile to wise up to this woman. She's a sadist. And I told her so. I also told her that my prognosis was not a good one for her. I didn't think there was a cure for someone so dedicated to humiliating men. It was obvious that she was totally insecure, and the only pleasure she derived from sex, was in the act of humiliating, and taunting.
I also informed her that I did not wish to undertake a program of psychotherapy with her. She simply didn't seem like the kind of person I wanted in my office. I had absolutely no respect for her.
CASE HISTORY SEVEN
SUBJECT: Juliet AGE: Twenty-Four
INTERVIEW ONE
This extraordinarily lovely blonde Australian was referee! to me by the Australian embassy. I still haven't been able to figure out how they got a hold of my name. I can't imagine why I would be associated with Australia. Nevertheless, the young woman in question had traveled to New York to see a young man she had met in the Orient. That's what she had told me on the phone. What follows is the taped transcript of the initial interview.
I feel so foolish, for having come all this way, only to be made a fool of. It's not right. I'm not such a Pollyanna, as to believe that everything in life is going to work out, like in a fairy tale.
It was Craig's fault. He did it to me. He thinks I deserve it. But I don't. I think he's a cruel bastard. I really do. In a way, I don't think I can really forgive him for what he did to me. He took complete advantage of me.
He thinks I started it back in Bali.
I suppose I should explain. You see, I met Craig three years ago in Bali, Indonesia. He seemed like a sensitive young man. I decided to have some fun with him. I just didn't imagine that it would end the way it did.
You see, Doctor, I think I'm in love with him.
What a fool I've been. A complete, and utter ass.
Yes, that's me in a nut shell.
It seems only like yesterday that I was lying naked on the beach, in Bali. And then I saw Craig walking down the beach towards me. He was so tanned and beautiful. His cock was hanging down like a baseball bat.
I turned over on my back, as he passed by, and spread my legs. I wanted to excite him. I wanted to lure him between my legs.
I could tell by the way he was staring at my gash, admiring my crimson-colored pussy lips, and swollen little clit, nestled beneath a huge bush of blonde pubes, that he wanted to enter me. He wanted to stuff his mongus tool deep into my organ.
He was stiff as he sat down beside me.
"I see you have a nice erection," I said. "Is that in honor of me?"
"You might say that," he smiled, with embarrassment, and tried to tuck the large meat shaft between his legs.
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" I asked.
"Yes," he sighed. "You look like an angel. What's your name?"
"Juliet," I informed him.
"A lovely name," he smiled. "I'm Craig."
"You're a Yank, right?" I asked.
"Yep, from New York City," he said. "A great city. Ever been there?"
"No," I smiled. "Perhaps-one day."
"I sure would like to make love to you," he said. "Seeing you lying here like this really turns me on. Wouldn't it please you to take my rod between those lovely vaginal lips?"
"It might," I said. "But I'm going to have to think about that for awhile."
"We could have some privacy back in the bush," he said, indicating the tropical jungle behind us.
"Do you want to go into the jungle with me?" I asked.
"More than anything," he said.
"Okay," I smiled, with self-confidence. "It would be nice if you sucked me off."
"I would love to nibble on that angel food cake," he said.
I got up off the sand, and took his hand. We walked into the bush.
His rod was standing out at full attention. It must have been all of ten inches. No exaggeration, Doctor.
I felt myself falling in love. But I sensed I shouldn't give myself to him. Not completely.
He seemed like a man who owned a very nasty temper.
Maybe he was perverted, I thought.
I had heard plenty about men who were playboys. Men who just used women as toys.
I didn't want to get mixed up with a man like that.
So, I was on my guard.
We sat down beneath a banana palm, hidden from the people on the beach.
Craig immediately threw his arms around me, and pulled me close to him. My lips pressed tightly to his. My tongue slid into his mouth, and he sucked it.
We were both growing extremely hot.
He touched my breast.
I liked the way he touched me. He was a man who knew how to touch a tit. He wasn't too gentle, and he wasn't too rough. He was just right. As he squeezed my breast, and pulled gently at my nipple, I could feel the passion begin to mount in my pussy. My body became alive with passion. I was burning up.
I felt fantastic.
He lowered me to my back, and slid his fingers into my pussy. I felt myself falling completely under his spell. He hand me held down firmly beneath his thumb.
It was surrender. I just didn't want him to see it, to know it. That I was in love with him.
I believe in love at first sight.
He kissed me passionately on the mouth, and then squatted over my chest.
It was warm. The sun was beating down on us. It felt delicious. His cock was pressed into the cleavage of my breasts. He squeezed my tits up against his cock, and worked it slowly, but surely, in and out of the tightened space.
He was quite turned on. And so was I. The hot friction of his cock working rapidly between my tits thrilled me. No man had ever done that to me before. He looked delighted. I could tell by the expression on his face, that he wasn't far away from the magical moment of release.
He pressed his cock tightly into the space. And then he started to groan. He was really turned on.
I figured that he was going to shoot his jism all over my face and chest. I didn't mind. For Craig, I was willing to do anything. I wanted to feel the spunk shoot all over me. I couldn't wait for the semen shower.
But apparently he changed his mind at the last minute. He pulled his cock out from between my breasts, and pressed the head of his organ up against my lips.
"Take it in, blondie," he said.
He pressed his tool slowly into my mouth. I sucked at his organ as it worked rapidly in and out of my mouth. His orgasm was almost complete.
I thrust my mouth over his cock.
I guess that surprised him. I figured that he didn't expect me to want to swallow his spunk.
But I did.
I wanted to drink up every last drop of it.
I took his cock all the way into the depths of my mouth. The head of his organ was pressed up against my tonsils.
I felt as though I would gag.
Thank God it didn't take long for him to come.
Just several more strokes, and then he moaned with passion. His cock buried deeply in my mouth, and he shot spunk into my throat. I swallowed his jism. It was hot. It felt good. I was happy to do it. Really I was.
His spunk was hot, and good.
After I had milked him dry, and swallowed every last drop of his man juice, he moved his deflating fuck sick out of my mouth, and worked his way down between my legs.
Jesus, Doctor, Craig was sure a good fuck artist.
He spread my labial lips open, and pressed his tongue into my hole.
I squeezed my pussy lips down on his tongue, lay back on the fallen banana leaves, and sighed with passion. His tongue bathed my vagina with delightful sensations.
I was on fire with his passion.
His passion for me was obvious. He was so open with me.
That was quite a compliment.
He lifted me up off the banana leaves, and took my clit into his mouth. He worked the magic flesh wedge about in his mouth, and sucked at it. We were both burning with passion. I truly believe, Doctor, that he was enjoying my finger-licking-good pussy, as much as I was enjoying his mouth.
While his tongue flicked over my vagina, I felt a rush of heat through me, such as I had never felt before. His tongue was taking me higher than I've ever gone before.
He pressed the entire length of his glossal flesh into my pussy, took my clit between his lips, stuck his finger up my ass, and then I came.
God did I come. It was a glorious finale to a day of wonderful sexual adventure. He sucked, and I moaned. What better combination could there be?
And then I came.
Did I ever come.
It's never been like that before.
After he had sucked the orgasm out of me, he immediately mounted me.
I was still in the throes of orgasm, as he stuffed his tool up my box.
It certainly filled me. It filled me better than any cock had ever filled me before.
I let his tool work about in my gash, while he kissed me passionately on my mouth.
As the intensity of my orgasm began to subside, I relaxed, and simply enjoyed the sweet sensations of the movement of his huge penis, in and out of my box.
I wrapped my legs tightly around him, and pumped powerfully, enjoying the delight of his tool working rapidly in and out of my vagina. I was on fire, all right. This guy sure knew how to fuck.
He worked his tool slowly in and out of my box, taking me higher and higher up the rungs of the ladder of pleasure. It would only be a matter of moments, until his cock exploded in me.
I couldn't wait. That's what I wanted. It wanted it more than anything.
He stuffed his tool up to my cervix, and tried to force his way into my uterus.
I screamed with pain as his cock worked rapidly in and out of my vagina.
I was burning up. Absolutely out of my mind with pleasure. I didn't even mind the sensation and pain of his cock pounding up against the sensitive opening of my vagina.
It was going to be a complete day, of completely wild sexual excitement. I knew that.
I never wanted it to end.
He pulled his cock out of my pussy, before he shot.
"What did you do that for?"
"I want your ass," he announced.
"But it's a virgin ass," I said. "Please show mercy for me."
"No way, lady," he said.
His attitude turned me on. I like rough stuff from time to time.
As long as it's not too rough.
He forcibly rolled me over on my belly, spreading my firm, young ass cheeks apart. He pressed his finger up my ass.
It hurt, Doctor. Oh, did it hurt.
And then the head of his organ pressed slowly up my ass. It hurt. It hurt plenty. But I was willing to take pain for Craig. You see, Doctor, I guess I'm just an old-fashioned romantic. I was head over heels in love with him. At that point, I think I would have wandered into the sea and drowned myself, if it would have given him pleasure. Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration.
But I do want you to know that I loved him. I really did.
I didn't even mind so much the terrible pain in my ass as he worked his tool rapidly in and out of the tightened opening.
He forced his tool all the way up my ass, and began pounding. God, did he push and pull that mighty cock of his in and out of my ass-hole. I was on fire with glorious passion.
I could barely contain myself.
I pumped passionately up against him. I could feel the entire length of his tool sink slowly, but surely, into the utter depths of my anus.
When his balls were resting on my ass globes, he sighed with a passion that was truly inspirational.
And then he shot his load.
I could feel the hot spunk shooting up into my rectum. It thrilled me. It thrilled me completely.
Faster and faster he pumped, spilling semen sewage deeply into my bowels.
He sure had a big load to deposit. His nuts were regular come factories.
He pressed and pulled, and we both were on fire.
His organ was still shooting jism into me, as he withdrew.
I could feel the warm love nectar spill out over my ass cheeks, and thighs, as he pulled his organ out of my tight hole.
It was a wonderful sensation.
We were both satiated.
"God, I love you," I announced, as I sat up, feeling his love nectar spill from my slightly stretched orifice. "I love you so much. I hardly know a thing about you, and yet I love you very much. Does that seem strange to you?"
"Not really," he said. "Women have reacted to me that way before. And I suppose they will again."
"Shit!" I said. "You're really conceited, aren't you?"
"Not really," he smiled. "I just know what I am."
INTERVIEW TWO
During the initial interview with the stunning young blonde, I wasn't able to learn much concerning her relationship with this Craig fellow. It seemed apparent to me, however, that something sadistic was going on. It hadn't been truly established as yet, but I felt rather certain that was in the offing. The second interview, I felt, would better establish this pattern of behavior.
That was the last I saw of Craig, Doctor. I mean, after all that wonderful sex, he simply informed me that he was returning to New York that evening.
I thought that was a rather shabby trip. It was a low blow. But we exchanged addresses, and promised to write.
I wrote the first letter, a month later, from my home in Melbourne.
I was surprised to get an immediate response.
So, we began exchanging letters. We really got to know each other from the letters.
When it came time for me to go to New York, to see him, and hopefully, to make a sound relationship, it seemed to me that I had just said goodbye to Craig a few days earlier. That's the feeling I had.
I had no idea that he had been holding part of himself back creating a huge mystery about himself.
I arrived in New York about a month ago, Doctor.
I took a cab from the airport to Craig's apartment on the Lower Eastside.
It was a strange apartment. He was strange, too.
When he opened the door to greet me, he blew my mind.
He was dressed from head to toe in black leather. And I mean, from head to toe.
He had on a black leather motorcycle cap, jacket, pants, and big old black motorcycle boots.
His cock was bulging in the tight trousers.
"You look pretty good, lady," he said.
"What is this lady crap," I said, exhausted from the thirty-five hour flight from Melbourne. "My name is Juliet. Don't you remember me?"
"Of course," he smiled. "Won't you come in?"
I was amazed to find that his apartment was filled with all sorts of symbols of violent, and bizarre sex.
There were animal skins on the walls and floor. There was a rack, and whips and chains hanging from the walls. The only furniture in the room was a bed. A very large bed.
But it was a bed such as I had never seen before.
Instead of a normal head board, and foot board, the bed had ankle and wrist supports built into the bed.
"Where did you ever get such a strange bed?" I asked.
"I got it second hand from a mental hospital," he said. "Isn't it great?"
"I don't know," I said. "It looks a little weird to me."
"Wouldn't it be fun," he said, "to get right into bed? Why should we waste any time?"
"I don't think we're wasting time," I said. "I just got here. I'm tired."
"Don't be such a little tease," he said. "I should have known you would give me shit. You're the type."
"I'm not any type of anything," I said. "I'm Juliet. Don't you remember me?"
"Yeah," he said. "I remember how much fun we had fucking on the beach that day in Bali. And I think that's what we ought to do right now."
"But we're not in Bali," I said. "And this is not the beach."
"That doesn't matter to me," he said.
"Can't I at least put my things away first?"
"No," he replied. "Get your clothes off. We might as well start right in on the pleasure."
"God, you're sick, you know that?"
"I don't think I'm so sick," he said. "I just like sex. And I like you."
"Very well," I said. "I won't argue the point."
And with that, I removed my clothes. He seemed happy enough to see my naked body again.
"You look as lovely as ever," he said. "Now get on the bed."
"Don't you even want to kiss me?"
"I'll kiss you while I'm fucking your brains out," he said. "Is that okay?"
Doctor, it was at that point, that I felt I was being used. I wasn't just a lovely blonde. I was every blonde female. I was a symbol. But I was just too tired to fight. Besides, I loved him. I wanted to work through this problem with him. I thought that would make me very happy. To help him. Do you know what I mean?
I know I'm not qualified in psychiatry, Doctor. You don't have to tell me that. But I wanted to try to help him. He seemed so sick. It took me awhile to figure out where he was at. He was in a sick place. A very sick place.
He took off his clothes and got into bed with me.
But he wasn't about to make sweet love to me. No way.
He attached my wrists to the restraints, and my ankles as well. I was spread eagled on the bed. I was too tired to fight it. It would have been absurd for me to fight him.
I pressed my body up against him, as best I could, considering the restraints. I felt hot, and ready to go. He moved to my side, and stroked my lovely blonde hair. While he stroked my hair, he pressed his finger up my slash, and twisted it, painfully so.
"Make me feel good," I said.
"I didn't come all the way from Melbourne just to have you torture me," I said.
"You leave that up to me," he said. And then he slapped me across the face.
It was no loving pat.
It was a hostile act. I knew it for what it was. It was a very hostile act.
He slapped me again and again across the face. I could taste blood trickling out of the corner of my mouth. My teeth were loosened.
"Please, Craig," I said. "Don't be so mean."
"I'm not being mean," he said. "I'm just showing you who is boss."
"Can you show it to me with a little more gentleness?" I asked.
"I'll give it a go," he said.
And it was at that point that he finally moved between my thighs. I figured he was going to suck me off.
But he had other things in mind. He wasn't about to suck me off. He simply wanted to get close. He had something in his hand. I didn't know what it was.
I found out soon enough that it was a clitoris clamp. As he attached the clamp to my clitoris, I nearly jumped off the bed with fear.
The pain, as he attached the plastic, clothes pin type device, to my clitoris, was crippling. I screamed with outrage. I pulled at the restraints, but it was no use.
He pulled a small drawer out, from the side of the bed, and removed a gag. It was like a little red rubber ball. There were teeth marks on it. It had been used before. Many times, judging by the indentations.
He moved slowly between my legs, after he had my mouth gagged, and my extremities restrained.
He was holding his stiff cock in his hand.
I could care less about the pleasure. It didn't seem like any pleasure at all was available for me. Just pain. And more pain.
And that's how it went. He stuffed his cock rapidly into the depths of my vagina, and worked it in and out.
Pleasure wasn't his motivation. Not my pleasure, in any case. He was looking out entirely for himself.
He worked his tool deeply into my vagina, and began working it slowly, but surely, in and out of my orifice.
I could feel the stiffness of his rod as it worked continuously in and out of my opening.
I tried to push up against him, so that my clitoris would be stimulated by the movement of his swollen shaft in and out of my opening.
It was no use.
I couldn't quite get there. He kept pushing me away. He was being a sadistic bastard. I felt like such a fool for falling for his come-on in the letters. I wasn't born yesterday, you know!
But I sure felt like I was with him. I felt like a total ass.
He next reached into the drawer, and pulled out a pair of tit clamps. They were really alligator clamps used by electricians. And by pot smokers for holding the butts of their marijuana cigarettes.
They weren't designed for the sensitive flesh of a woman's nipples.
As he closed the nipple clamps on my nipples, I felt a hot surge of passion work through me. My body was completely on fire. I felt the pain of the nipple clamps shoot completely through me. It was devastating.
Absolutely horrendous.
He forced his tool deeply into my pussy, and there it throbbed, awaiting the release of his jism.
He shot. I hoped that meant it would be all over. That the torment would be finished.
But it wasn't. It was a long way from being finished.
He had further need of me. Sick need.
After his cock had deposited his seed deeply in my gash, he withdrew.
He gloated, as if he had used me had some sort of victory over my femininity.
I thought he was a sick man. I hated him. All the love that I had carried in my heart for him, for so long, had now vanished. It was all over. He had used me, and was now obviously ready to toss me aside, like a worn-out rag.
I thought that was fucked.
But I was the one getting fucked. Not him.
If only he had given me a chance to show him how much I cared. That might have helped.
But he didn't.
He didn't care.
He only wanted to use me, pain me, and humiliate me. He was a bad man.
After he had finished shooting off his rocket in my pussy, he removed my wrists and ankles from the restraints, and rolled me over.
I couldn't fight him. He had abused the strength from me what little strength was left over, after that exhausting flight around the world.
He didn't even use the restraints this time.
I guess he knew that I couldn't fight him. There was just no fight left in me. He worked his tool slowly up to the mouth of my tightened ass-hole.
No one had been up my ass since last I saw him that day in Bali.
I just wasn't ready for what he had in store for me. I wasn't ready at all.
He moved up behind me, and pressed his organ slowly into my tight hole. I screamed with pain. He didn't care. It was obvious he didn't care about anything but his own damned pleasure. He was a real bastard. A total ass-hole.
He moved the entire length of his cock slowly up my rectum. My bowls screamed with pain. And still he came inside of me.
Deeper and deeper.
"I hope that hurts," he moaned, as he pressed in to the hilt.
It hurt all right. I felt as though a Mack truck had just driven up my ass.
I don't know what sort of thrill he got from that. But it wasn't very pleasurable to me. And that's an understatement. The man was obviously sick.
I had walked right into his sick world. At that point, I only hoped that he wouldn't kill me. Finish me off.
I was terrified of that.
He continued to force his huge organ in and out of my ass-hole, until he shot off inside of me.
I could feel his hot spunk rush up my ass, filling me completely with his hot jism.
After he had shot off like a firecracker up my ass, he was still ready for more sick fun and games.
He went to the wall and removed his bullwhip. He began beating me.
Doctor, I swear to you, I thought I was finished right then and there.
And then he simply dropped the whip, and removed my restraints.
He set me free.
"I just wanted you to see that I'm not the right man for you," he said.
CONCLUSION
Juliet had indeed fallen into the hands of a scoundrel. I advised her to forget about him. As there was no reason for her to remain in New York, I informed her to simply go back home. My thinking on the matter was that if she remained in New York, she would feel cut off. There would be no love for her. I told her that she needed the backing and support of those at home. Her relatives. She did go back.
I received a post card from her just the other day, informing me that she had become a lesbian. Under the circumstances, I believe that's entirely understandable. And even laudible.
Sometimes, we have to change, in order to avoid painful situations.
I think she'll be all right. I'm not so sure about this Craig fellow.
CASE HISTORY EIGHT
SUBJECT: David AGE: Twenty-Eight
INTERVIEW ONE
This young man was referred to me by the City Psychiatric Service. He had called the organization, as many New Yorkers do, to find a psychiatrist to help him overcome a problem. In this case, it was a sexual problem. What follows is the taped transcript of his initial interview.
I think I'm a masochist, Doctor. Yes, I know very well what it means.
It all started about a year ago. I met this very lovely and sexy Puerto Rican girl on the street. Her name was Nancy. She was quite all right. I like dark girls. She had a lovely face, little titties, and a very nice, firm young ass.
I don't normally meet my lovers that way. Usually, I meet them through friends.
But the ones I really enjoy, seem to be the ones I meet on my own, quite by accident.
I don't know if I can really say that I enjoyed Nancy. I should rather say that she enjoyed giving me pain.
I want you to know, right off, that I have never indulged in sick sexuality, like that, before meeting Nancy.
I was a nice, normal boy.
She ended all that.
I can recall how it started, as if it was yesterday. Is it true, Doctor, that the subconscious mind knows nothing of time. I mean, I still think about Nancy, as though all of that stuff happened just the other day. Yes, I'll be specific.
As I told you, we had met on the street.
"Excuse me," I said. "Would you be freaked out if I told you that I felt a very strong sexual attraction towards you?"
"No, I would consider that as a very nice compliment, coming from a handsome man like you," she said.
I had broken the ice, or so I thought. "Do you live around here?"
"Yeah," she said. "Just down the street."
"Would you consider it presumptuous of me if I asked you to take me home with you?"
"You really don't beat around the bush, do you?" she asked.
"I'd love to beat around your bush," I said.
"I'll bet you would," she said. "You certainly seem like the standard pervert."
"I'm not a pervert," I said. "I'm just an all-American boy."
"Well, maybe I'm a pervert," she said. "How does that grab you?"
"That sounds pretty good," I said. "I don't mind at all."
I had no way of knowing just how perverted she was.
We walked hand-in-hand to her apartment.
It seemed like a normal enough studio apartment. It didn't seem so strange to me.
It didn't reflect the degree of her perversion. As soon as we were up in her apartment, she began to undress.
That blew my mind somewhat. It really did.
I began undressing, too.
The sight of her tanned, little body filled me with desire. Her tits were so small and swollen. Her nipples were puckered, and tight with desire, and her ass. Lord, what a tight little girl's ass she had.
I walked up to her, after I had stripped. I was feeling pretty confident. She hadn't done anything as yet to knock me down. I just figured she was up for anything.
I took her in my arms and kissed her on the mouth.
"Did I tell you that you could do that?" she asked, with hostility in her eyes, and voice.
"No, but I just figured..."
"I'm the one with the figure," she said. "Let me do the figuring."
I stepped back from her. She had really dropped a load of bricks on my head with that shit.
"Would you like me to leave?" I asked.
"No," she smiled, "you just go ahead and play along with me if you want to have the fuck of a lifetime."
How could I have left under those circumstances. I was curious about the fuck of a lifetime. I wondered if it would be any good.
She was so cute. But there was something definitely evil about her. I was wondering if she might not be a witch.
"Do you smoke dope?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"I have some good stuff, do you think you could handle it?"
"I'd like to try," I said.
"That would be nice," she said, opening a wooden box on her coffee table, and removing a marijuana cigarette.
She lit it.
"This is really good weed," she said. "Are you sure it's for you?"
"What's with all of this testing?" I asked. "I know very well what I can handle, and what I can't deal with."
I smoked about half the joint with her, before I felt everything in the room begin to spin around.
It was crazy. Really wild. Everything went out of focus. I didn't know whether I was coming or going. It was a terrible experience.
We were both naked.
Nancy looked delicious to me. My mouth was watering with hunger for her. I wanted to suck on her breasts, and squeeze her pussy. I wanted to run my fingers up into her pussy, and pull at her clitoris.
I wanted to fuck her in the mouth, pussy and anus.
But she had some ideas of her own.
In the fog of my altered state of consciousness, I saw her get up off the sofa and walk into the bedroom. She came back holding a whip, and a pair of handcuffs.
"What is that?" I asked.
I was slurring my words. I was stoned. Too stoned. I felt weak and entirely at her mercy.
Before I knew what was going on, she handcuffed my hands behind my back, and pulled me to the floor. She started to whip me, Doctor.
No, I'm not joking.
I tried to run. I was trying desperately to escape. But I couldn't move. I was like a baby. Entirely helpless.
I felt like a fool.
The whip hurt. Sure, I might have been stoned, but I wasn't so stoned as to not be able to tell that my skin was on fire from the burning lash of the whip.
Again and again she whipped me. My flesh was burning.
It was terrifying.
INTERVIEW TWO
When David showed up for his second appointment with me, he seemed a little more relaxed. He had become quite intense while describing to me his initial sexual confrontation with this Nancy character. I was most interested to find out what happened in the midst of the angel dust perversion. Strictly from a professional perspective, of course. What follows is the taped transcript of my second interview with the young male subject.
Thank you, Doctor. I do feel a little more relaxed. I'm feeling much better, actually. Thank you. What happened?
Yes, of course.
Well, like I was telling you last time I was here, this Nancy chick was really doing a number on me.
She had me so stoned I could hardly remember how to breathe, and all the while she was beating on me with the whip.
Finally, after I felt like I was going to die from it all, she turned me over on my back, and squatted on my face.
"Suck me, you fool."
Her pussy was wet, and hot.
I ran my tongue up into the cavern of her vagina, and then I took her clitoris into my mouth. I sucked at her clit, while she moaned louder and louder.
I guess I was doing a good job. But I can't be sure. You see, even my mouth was numb. I was numb all over.
It was so bizarre.
She worked her groin around on my face, as though I were some sort of coin-operated pussy sucking machine.
"Suck me, you bastard," she screamed.' "You're not trying."
She pressed the handle of the whip painfully down on my groin. It hurt plenty.
Again and again she smacked the leather handle up against my cock.
I was crying out with pain.
"Please stop," I cried.
"Then make me come."
"I'm trying," I said.
"Well, try harder."
I was, Doctor. I was really trying hard. But it didn't seem to be of much use. Finally, after God only knows how long, she came.
I really don't know where she got all of her energy. I certainly was wasted. But she seemed able to go on and on.
There was just no stopping her. She was quite a woman, that Nancy. But not for me. At least, I didn't think so at the time. I mean, who needs to suffer.
Finally, after she came, she lifted her weight off my face.
"I suppose you would like it if I sucked your cock, right?" she asked.
"I wouldn't complain," I sighed, thinking that a little pleasure might help me forget about the pain, and the numbness in my mind.
My brain felt as if it had gone to sleep.
I watched the lovely Puerto Rican woman move between my thighs. She wrapped her lovely fingers around my cock, and began to stroke me. She worked her hand rapidly up and down the length of my fuck stick.
I could feel the jism boiling in my nuts.
But then the bitch pinched the sensitive head of my organ. I mean pinched. She wasn't fucking around.
She gave me great pain. It was horrendous.
Even under the effects of the drug, I felt the pain. It was an overwhelming, terrible feeling.
I cried, I think.
I can't quite remember.
It was only after she gave me the pain, that she rewarded me with pleasure. She worked her mouth slowly down over my cock. She pressed her full lips on the soft meat.
I sighed with pleasure, and felt the jism begin to fill the shaft of my cock. It wouldn't be long. I was almost there. Soon, I would come. I looked forward to that.
I figured it would be a relief after all the shit she had given me.
Her mouth was warm and wet as it moved up and down the length of my rod.
I felt the tension building in my nuts. I knew for certain that I was almost there. It wouldn't take long for me to reach the point of blast off.
And then it happened.
I remember moaning with pleasure supreme, and my cock spitting a hot river of jism into her mouth.
She seemed to delight in it. She moaned as the hot love nectar ran into her mouth, and slowly slid down the back of her throat.
"You tasted pretty good," she said, as she finished sucking me off.
"Do you think you could keep that cock of yours stiff, while I fuck it "Gee, I don't know," I said, slurring my words still feeling the powerful effect of the drug.
"Well, you'd better try," she said. "Because if you don't please me, I'm going to have to punish you."
"Oh, you are a monster," I said. "You are a real monster. I think I'll just go. Forget about the fuck."
"You're not going anywhere until you do what I say," she said.
I was trying to get my cock stiff. But the best I could do was semi-limp. That was it.
She was angry about it, too.
She was real angry.
She worked her pelvis down on my shaft. It wasn't really stiff enough to go into her. But I tried.
"You're not very hard," she murmured, as she worked her pussy around on my cock. "Am I going to have to punish you?"
"No, give me a break, okay?"
"I'll give you a broken neck, if you don't get that cock of yours stiffened up."
I was trying, Doctor. I'm sure, as a man, you know how difficult it can be to get it up under situations of duress.
And that's what it was.
It was duress all right.
For one thing, I was stoned out of my mind. For another, she had just finished sucking me off. I couldn't imagine how I could get stiff for her again.
And plus, she was being a mean bitch.
It was difficult. Very difficult.
After she pumped up and down on me a few times, I finally felt my cock begin to stiffen.
"Well, it's about time," she said. "I was thinking I would have to smash your face in, to show you how upset I am."
"I really don't think that would be necessary," I said, while I began to feel the pleasure of having my cock jamming in and out of her pussy.
It was a nice cunt hole, really. It was tight, and lovely.
I worked my cock rapidly in and out of her pussy, feeling the sexual tension begin to build. It wouldn't be long. I was almost there.
But then she raised her pussy off my cock.
"Why did you do that?" I asked. "Are you aware of how difficult it was for me to get it up for you?"
"I don't give a flying shit about that," she said. "I'm not going to let you waste your spunk up my crack, when I can have your cock up my ass-hole.
"Would you like to fuck me in the ass?" she asked.
"I wouldn't deny you," I smiled.
I was beginning to come out of the haze of the drug-inflicted never-never land.
But, I'll tell you, it was going to be awkward as hell to have my ass under me, with my wrists handcuffed behind my back.
I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to balance.
I didn't want to do anything to upset her. I knew she would be pissed off if I didn't give her a good buggery.
She was on the carpet, in the knee-chest position.
I came up from behind her, working my way slowly between her firm, young thighs.
I was filled with sexual tension. I was looking forward to plugging her in the ass.
But it was difficult. I don't know if you can imagine what a trick it is to bugger someone, with your arms behind your back.
It's sort of like trying to catch a fish with a spear. It's like a moving target.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she was getting really sore, while my cock kept missing the aperture.
I went up her cunt several times, by mistake.
"You fool," she snapped at me. "I should have known better than to have given you those drugs. It was a big mistake."
I worked my tool slowly into her ass crack.
I used the sides of her ass to give me balance. I felt as if I was going to fall over.
Finally, I pressed up to the hole.
She wriggled about, teetering, as if she wanted to make it difficult for me.
More and more it was dawning on me that she wanted this to happen. She really did. She wanted me to bugger her, but only after humiliating me. After making me feel like an utter fool.
I finally managed to enter her behind. I worked slowly into her anal opening. It was difficult to keep myself balanced. But I managed.
I entered the opening of her behind, and sank slowly in.
"That's it," she sighed.
"I figured you wouldn't be able to handle it," she said.
"Give me a little credit," I said. "Can you imagine how difficult it is to hit a moving target like your ass-hole, with a stick, like my cock?"
"No excuses," she said. "I don't want to hear any damn excuses."
"You are a cruel woman," I sighed, as my cock sank slowly in to the limit. "And you love it," she said. "But you haven't even begun to see the cruelty I'm capable of. And that was true, Doctor. It was at that point, she clamped her sphincter down on me, so painfully, that I thought I would pass out. I screamed with pain.
"You like that, eh?"
"No," I cried. "Please let go of me. You're killing me."
"Shit," she said. "You're full of crap. You know you love it."
"No, it hurts."
And then I came. I guess I was right. I suppose she knew more about me, then I knew about myself. That's really what blew my mind. My mind was blown totally.
I just didn't know whether I was coming or going.
After my cock was emptied into her ass-hole, she moved away from me. She removed the handcuffs, and made me dress. She kicked me out, and said she never wanted to see me again. She said she was just a one-time lady. I miss her. I miss her very much.
CONCLUSION
After hearing this fascinating account of sick perversion, I informed the subject that he was indeed fortunate that this Nancy tossed him out rejected him. I informed him that perverse sadomasochistic sex can sometimes go too far. That's apparently what happened with him. He was lucky that it hadn't gone to the point of serious injury. I told him to find a nice girl who would be nice to him. And I left it at that. Case dismissed.
CASE HISTORY NINE
SUBJECT: Karla AGE: Twenty-Three
INTERVIEW ONE
Karla, a most scrumptious redhead was referred to my office for a private consultation, by her own psychiatrist, a friend and professional colleague. We in the psychiatric community often seek additional commentary from our esteemed fellows, before making final diagnosis, concerning the very ill. It is, as even the most lay reader can imagine, a very difficult, and horrendously challenging responsibility, to pass judgment on a patient. To send him or her to an institution.
Such is the case with young Karla. Diagnosed, tentatively, by her own physician, as a psychotic masochist, I was to either confirm, or deny the existence of such an intolerable mental state. It was up to me, really, whether the child should be institutionalized for her own good or sent home, to continue out-patient therapy. What follows is the brief, but poignant, taped transcript of my meeting with the attractive young woman.
I don't know why I had to come here. There's nothing wrong with my own shrink. I trust him.
I don't give a shit about outside opinions. I know I'm not crazy. Sure, I might like pain but what sexually developed person doesn't? I ask you that.
What pain means to me? It means lots of things. Mostly, it means pleasure.
More specifically?
Very well. You see, when I'm naked in bed with a man, or a woman, whom I really like it's only natural that I want them to hurt me. Abuse thrills me.
I'm convinced everyone is really that way. We need pain. For God's sake, we must experience pain before we can know pleasure. That only makes sense. Don't you think?
Well, that's me. I am into pain. It turns me on.
Very well. I'll explain.
Mostly, I like to be tied up. It does strange things to me when I'm tied up, and my lover beats me. I don't really dig it when I bleed. I mean, I don't want to be maimed. I just want to play. You know?
Well, try to imagine.
So, when I am tied up, and being beaten, I tingle all over. I can't tell you how good it feels.
I just go crazy with lust. My pussy begins flowing with hot juices. My anus puckers. Every nerve ending in my body calls out for lust for pleasure.
And, finally, after I have been well beaten, I like to take the cock into my mouth, my pussy, and my ass-hole. The rougher, the better. I mean, I like it hot and nasty. No fooling around.
That's how I like it. Can you dig it?
If I'm with a woman, I make love, of course, but I insist on the dong. like I want severe pleasure. No half-way measures for me. When I want pleasure, I take pleasure.
But when I want pain. I want it. Yeah, I'll tell you what I think about when
I'm being fucked roughly.
Let me see. Well, I think about how good it feels, of course. And I think about how good it's going to feel when my lover shoots his wad in me.
Oh, I like it the best in the ass. Why?
Well, I suppose because it hurts the most. like I want real pain. No fooling around.
Sure, I like it in the pussy the same as any broad. But only a few women know how good it feels to be conquered by a man. Restrained, broken, forced to submit. Lying on my belly, feeling my lover's strong fingers pry my ass cheeks apart, I can feel the tension in my anus the power of the desire. Desire for pain.
I don't like to use lubricant. I put my hand under my pussy, and rub my clit up against it, while I prepare for the anal intrusion.
If my lover is real good to me, he just stuffs it right in no preliminaries. No warm-up exercises.
I mean, like just a thunderbolt of hard cock meat right up the ass-hole, tearing deeply into me, filling me with hot lust.
And when I'm held down like that immobilized feeling the stiffness of my own sadistic lover's organ pounding swiftly down into the depths of my ass-hole, I come.
