Abusive pleasures are becoming predominant in today's society. Once a person learns to master the art of pleasure, there is nothing to do but try variations. Those variations are usually painful ones, hence, the abuse.
When a woman can turn her abuse into her pleasure, chances are good she will only be making things easier for herself, as more and more men are learning to get off on abusing these women.
Betty: A young Florida housewife who first learns about pleasure when two men rob and rape her, then discovers that her real pleasure comes from being a dominatrix.
Miranda: A middle aged woman who marries a rich, rich man, and only has to bring him female slaves in order to keep him happy so he can abuse them.
Elsie: A pretty blonde secretary, who learns to love the sting of the leather whip during training sessions on the French Riviera.
Angela: A beautiful blonde actress who found she had to suffer before a role would be given to her, until her suffering was no act.
Anais: A poet, who witnessed and took parts in horrible scenes of humiliation which she could later incorporate into her work.
THE STORY OF BETTY
When I think about all I've been through in my life, I can understand just where I am, and even more so, where I'm going.
That's pretty good, when you think about where I came from, and how it all started. Oh, God, was I some naive bitch, thinking that Harry was some good lay, know what I mean? I guess a lot of women out there in this here world can relate to only having had one man for many years in their dreary little lives.
That was me. Miss Housewife in good old dull Florida, where nothing even happens except the sand hits the shore a million times a day.
Sure, the men, they go out drinking and get themselves plowed, then come home to their respective wives to plow in another kind of way.
That was Harry. When I met him, back when I was seventeen and living in Orlando, I thought he was the best thing that ever came into my life. Actually, he was just the fucker who taught me that I could get myself turned on, sexually.
Up until that point, I was just some dumb teenager, hanging out on the beach in my bikini all the time, water surfing and body surfing, and doing all that kind of shit. Of course, there was boys back then who wanted me, but being the hot little blonde who they all wanted, I knew I didn't have to put out.
Besides which, they was boys, clear and simple. I always kinda dreamed of some older man whisking me away, and me doing anything for that older man. I knew I had sexual feelings, but knew, too, that they could wait for a while. I didn't even masturbate before I met that bastard Harry.
Of course, I call him a bastard now, but I wouldn't have done that back then.
I was on the beach when I met him, and he was just stepping out to get some sun, wearing this three piece suit. A person tends to stand out in a crowd, especially on the beach, when he's decked out in his three piece.
I was just running up to get a soda, when I tripped right near where he was. Now maybe I tripped on purpose. I don't know.
He just kinda had that look, the kind of look I'd always dreamed about. Sleek black hair and dark brown skin, from the sun, and a real diamond ring on his finger. Now don't go thinking I was a gold digger, or something like that. I just notice these things.
Anyway, Harry kinda asked me where I was going, and I told him for a soda.
"Come on, I'll buy you one, kid," he said.
"I don't mind."
I didn't know he was gonna be taking me into this caddy that was sitting out in front of the big hotel on the beach. I was only wearing my bikini, and we hopped into this caddy, with a chauffeur and all, and started to drive off.
As we did, he put his arm around me and started asking me questions about myself. I lied about my age, sensing that this dude was gonna be the one to break me. I knew he wouldn't have done it if he knew I was jail bait.
Anyway, his hand is starting to slide down my stomach, and down toward my thighs, and I didn't really do nothing. I didn't spread my legs for him or anything like that, but he continued to slide his fingers, until they were in my bottoms.
I felt him rubbing my blonde patch, and when they touched my cunt lips I could feel this hot wetness running through me. He slid his hand into my cunt lips and when he just touched me, something inside of me started to explode.
Now I kinda had my eyes closed, but I heard him moan something.
"Hey, baby, lookie here," he said, and when I turned and looked, he had his suit pants open, at the zipper, and his hard dick was sticking right out.
I'd seen dicks before, but never hard. I really liked the way this big pole looked, and I started to move my mouth down there. I'd never done nothing like that, either, but I knew that was what he wanted me to do.
I slurped at that cock like a hungry bitch, just because I could hear him moaning the second my mouth touched the head of it. I started to flick my tongue back and forth over the slit, and his fingers were still wiggling around inside of me. I thought I was gonna pass out from the pleasure.
Now let me tell you that I knew a girl had to get to like cocks because most guys had 'em and wanted to have 'em served.
So I made some kind of a conscious effort to like them. Also, it wasn't too bad, with his other hand on his thigh, right near his hard dick. I kept my eyes open and could see that diamond ring sparkling like mad.
It didn't take more than a few seconds. I was flicking my tongue along the underside of his hot pleasure pole, and he started to moan loud. Then I felt the come shooting out onto my tongue, and I moaned as I tasted it.
The moans let me tell you, were all for him, and for no other reason. I mean the gism tasted kind of okay, but I'd had my heart set on a soda, and he even made me think that was what I was gonna be drinking.
I would have preferred that sweet bubbly taste on my tongue over the taste of Harry's come, but I made do with what I was getting from him.
His cock was really pretty big, but after he'd shot out all the come, it started to go limp really fast, until he just pulled my head away and tucked himself back into his pants. I lifted my head up, and as we continued to drive, he kept his fingers in my bikini bottoms, playing with my cunt.
We did end up going for a drink, at the chicest hotel in Orlando.
He let me put on his sports jacket so I wouldn't be walking through the lobby in just my skimpy bikini, and we took an elevator right up to his room.
Then, as soon as the door was closed, he pulled the jacket off, put his arms around me, and kissed me real hard on the lips.
I could feel the way his cock was getting stiff in his pants, because he kept grinding himself against me, so that I would feel it.
"Yeah, you're one hot bitch," he said. "Now do a slow strip for me, okay?"
Before I even moved, he started to tear at his clothing, letting them pile up in a heap on the floor. I could tell that he didn't care much about the stuff, even though the clothes were real expensive.
He had a nice body, too, with his chest and legs as tan as his face. He had a lotta hair on his chest, and a real hairy pubic patch. The thing was, when I saw him naked, his cock didn't seem as big as it had been before, but it was still a good size.
As I started to do a slow strip, and slow was the . .only way to do it, considering how little I had on to begin with, he sat on the edge of the bed. He started to rub his hand up and down his extended cock.
I could see the way his balls bounced up and down a little, when he was jerking himself even faster, and when he wasn't, they kinda sat on the bed.
I kept taunting him, for after I opened my bikini top, and started to slide it down, I turned my back on him. I kinda shook myself around, and swung the bra top in my hand, but when I turned back to him, I held it in front of my boobs.
Then, I started to let it fall, so that he could see most of my tits, but not anything of my stiff red nipples. Yeah, they were real stiff, because I guess I was turned on doing something like this for him.
I kept turning back and forth, and finally, he was screaming for me to show my tits, so I showed them for him.
I let the top fall to the floor, then started to shake. He seemed to like the look of my tits going around in circles.
I moved my fingers to my hot nipples and played with them, then looked at his cock. He was squeezing it real hard, and I didn't realize why right away, but would later. He had to keep himself from coming.
Harry would do that often. You see, he was a pretty quick shot.
"Let me see that pussy of yours, now that we're here. I only got to feel it, baby, but now I wanna see it in the flesh."
I slid out of my bottoms real slow, turning my back on him. I wanted him to see my ass first anyway, because I knew how much he wanted to see my pussy.
I finally turned for him, but had my hand over my cunt. Slowly, I moved it down, so that first, he could see my wet blonde bush. I showed him more and more of my pussy lips, but turned my back before he could see all of it. Then when I turned back to face him, after shaking my ass in his face for a while, I had my cunt covered again.
He was moaning real loud at the time, so I knew I was doing good.
The next time I turned to face him and started to slide my hand down, I let it go all the way, thinking that this dude was ready to see my pussy.
Well, the second he saw it, I heard him let out one loud moan.
I didn't even look down at his dick right away. First, I saw this white load shooting up onto his chest, and then when I realized that Harry was shooting his load, I looked down and watched the rest bursting out of that dick of his. His hand was moving kind of fast, but not fast enough to make his cock a blur.
I got down on my knees right in front of him and started to lap at the come that was now on his thighs. When I moved my mouth to his cock head, his dick kind of twitched and he tried to pull it away. That was when I learned how sensitive he was.
Well, after that, I sucked his dick into my mouth, until he started to get hard again, I could feel him going limp in my mouth, but he held the back of my head so I would keep him in my mouth until he got hard.
Then, he told me to lay on my back and spread my legs.
"You mean you're gonna fuck me?" I asked him, and he smiled.
"That's right, baby. That's the whole idea of this thing."
"Well, I don't know if I want you to fuck me. You're gonna fuck me and then you're gonna just forget about me afterwards. I know how you men are."
"Hey, baby, you're real special. Now what did you say your name was?"
I told him, and he was moaning it in my ear as he pressed his hairy chest down on my tits and started to rub his dick against my pussy lips. I must admit that I was so hot I really did want him then, and in the end, when he thrust into me, I didn't mind it that much. First of all, I didn't have a hymen.
And second, like I said and will probably say a lot more, that fuckhead was such a quick shot, know what I mean? I didn't know about that until much later in life, after that fucking rape.
But Harry was in me for a couple of seconds, and I could feel this heated pleasure running through my body. I could feel the way my whole body was starting to explode, not only in the cunt, but all over.
My flesh was tingling like mad, and I thought I was gonna pass out.
Now maybe this was all because of my own built-up excitement, this going to be my first fuck and all, because he couldn't have been in me for more than a couple of seconds when that dick started to throb, and he was shooting again.
I started to moan so loud, not really knowing any better.
"Oh yeah, baby, fill me up with that come of yours. Yeah, I love it. I jiist fucking love the way it feels, baby. I fucking love it."
I could see how happy Harry was about what I was saying. He started to moan louder and even got off more as I was rubbing my hands up and down his back, firmly. I was even able to slide my hands all the way down to-his buttocks, and he moaned as I was massaging those wet ass cheeks of his.
"God, that was fantastic," I kept moaning, as he stayed on top of me, but not in me, because he'd already fallen out. "Fucking fantastic."
"I thought so, too," he moaned to me, and then he rolled off.
Soon, he was sleeping, and I didn't really know what to do. I decided that I'd just call home and tell them I was staying at a girlfriend's house, and just hang out until he woke up, just to see what was happening.
Eventually, I fell asleep, and when I woke up some time later, I could feel him rubbing against me from behind. I didn't remember where I was right away, but as I felt this hairy chest pressed against my back, and this warm hard dick nestled between my buttocks, I did remember. After all, it had been my" first time, earlier.
Soon, he was rubbing his dick against my pussy from behind, and when he entered me, he slid his hand around.
That time, I felt more pleasure than I had from the first fuck. That dude really knew how to use his fingers, something I should have realized from back in the caddy when he'd made me suck him off and was fingering me.
As a matter-of-fact, he could use his fingers better than his dick, though I wouldn't realize that until much, much later.
For as he started to thrust, I loved the warm heat of his dick spreading through my pussy, but seconds after he was in me, he was coming. Luckily, he kept working his fingers even as his seed shot into me, and I thought that felt real hot.
Well, Harry started to take me around Orlando, and he was buying me everything that I wanted, left and right. Then, after I'd been with him for about two weeks, he came right out and asked me to marry him.
I said sure, why the fuck not? I mean, I liked him. He was the kind of man I wanted to be with, and he liked me. What more could I want?
It was a small ceremony, and my Mom and Dad were real happy to get rid of me. There were so many kids in the family, and a lotta girls. I know Dad was relieved that it was a small ceremony, because I really think he spent half his life estimating how much it was gonna set him back to pay off four weddings.
Harry lived in Miami Beach, so we were off right after the wedding.
Now this is where I learned something about what a shit he was. He told me he had this fantastic house he owned, and when we got there, the only thing fantastic about it was that it was on the beach.
It was, however, the shantiest little shit shack I've ever seen.
Then, more things came out. Harry worked in this department store, and the reason he had been showing me such a good time was that he'd won this fucking contest. They'd given him the caddy with the chauffeur, paid for his hotel room and meals, and even gave him some cash to spend.
As for the diamond, it was really this one big rhinestone.
You could imagine how disappointed I was, but then again, I still liked Harry. I mean, he had been real good to me when he had money, and he was kinda handsome, and as I said, he was my first. I wouldn't know what I was missing until a few years later, but I'll tell you that even before those two fuckers busted into my house, I was starting to sense that something was not right.
I mean, I became a bored housewife. Living in Miami was not all that different. I got to meet a lotta people on the beach, and I was brown as the darkest nigger down there, which always turned me on. But the boredom would show through sometimes, even when we was in bed. I mean, the first few times I was with him, I really got hot when he came, but after a few years of him coming before me, I didn't even fake it.
In many ways, though those two men abused me, and there weren't going to be any more men abusing me after that, they taught me a hell of a lot. They taught me just what my body could feel, although they forced me to feel it.
I was out on the beach until about three on this afternoon, and when I walked back to our house, I could see that the front door was open. I didn't really think too much about that, because sometimes I could be scatter-brained.
When I walked in though, and saw the way the living room was a fucking mess, with chairs turned over, and drawers opened everywhere, I freaked.
Now I didn't think they were still there, otherwise I never would have screamed the way I did. I thought the robbers had to have left.
But the second I screamed, the door to the bedroom was thrown open, and this ugly bald dude was running out. He had a pistol with him, and he aimed it at me.
I stopped screaming immediately, and my eyes bulged with fright.
I could suddenly see the way this dude was licking his lips, and I kind of knew that he wanted me. I was also suddenly so aware of how naked I was. I only had on my bikini, and this T-shirt over that.
"Who the fuck is out there?" I heard another voice ask.
"Some hot blonde bitch, boss," the bald dude said. "Come take a look."
The guy who came out must have had some kind of an Elvis problem, because he had his black hair slicked back like that. He was wearing a jacket that I could have sworn was leather, though I can't remember ever seeing anyone else down in Florida in a leather jacket. It was just too fucking hot to wear leather.
He started to smile, too, and he not only licked his lips, but started to run his hand right over his crotch. I could see this huge cock starting to swell there.
"Bring her into the bedroom," he said, and then, the bald man kind of surprised me by what he started to say.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I want this fucking bitch, but a rape charge is something else. Robbery is one thing, but not rape."
"All right, mother-fucker. Drop it," the black-haired dude said.
I saw him pulling his gun on his partner, and the bald man did drop his.
"I'm gonna fuck this bitch, and if you don't want to, then fuck off."
And the bald dude looked like he was gonna run, when suddenly, the other man stopped him again. He must have realized that his friend might run and get the cops.
He held the gun on both of us and walked toward the front door, closed it, and locked it. Then, he looked around the room, and reached for this role of packing cord that Harry had brought home once when he was mailing something to my Mom.
"All right, both of you," this leather-clad dude said. "Strip."
I started to peel off my clothing, as fast as I could. It didn't take me long, as I only had on the T-shirt and the bikini, and when I turned to get a look at the naked bald dude, I tried not to smile.
This fucker was not only bald on the head, but all over. He didn't have a single hair on his body, including hair near his cock.
He did, however, have this huge fucking dick. It was almost twice the size of Harry's, and it was only then that I started to think of something, something I had never thought before, perhaps out of fear.
Harry had a tiny dick. That was all there was to it.
"All right, bitch," he said, handing me a scissors. "You're gonna tie my fucking chicken shit partner to that there chair, right there."
I could tell that this guy was loving the look of my tits. He couldn't take his eyes off them.
The bald dude sat on the chair, and his dick looked even bigger as it was sticking straight up in the air. I took some cord and wrapped it first around his chest, but then, the leather man told me to first tie his hands. The bald dude stood up, and turned his back on me, so I could tie his hands together.
It was then that I felt this kind of power. I had never been with a bound man before. I almost forgot that we were both victims now, and I was gonna be bound any second, too.
Once I had his hands bound, he sat again, and then I wrapped the cord around his chest, and tied him to the back of the chair.
"Now, you, blonde cunt," he said to me. "Turn around."
As soon as I did, he pulled my hands behind my back. He first tied my wrists together, probably ten times as tight as I'd tied the bald fucker's. I could feel the way my hands started to throb, due to lack of blood, seconds after he had tied me.
Then, he tied my arms together .at the elbows, and that kept me in a weird kind of position. I really did hate the way that felt.
After that, he started to laugh at me.
"All right, cunt. Now you're really gonna get yourself fucked, but first, I'm gonna make sure you're wet enough and hot enough."
With those words, he turned me around so I was facing the bald man, and then he pushed my head forward, so my lips were touching that bald dude's pleasure pole. I could smell a strong scent near the man's crotch.
"Suck that fucker off to get him wet, too," the leather man said to me.
And then, I felt my head being pushed down the dude's upraised shaft. I could feel myself being pushed down more, so his cock head was in my throat.
Then, the leather dude started to sink to his knees behind me. I thought for sure he would eat my cunt, because that was what most men seemed to like to do. Harry didn't eat me as often as he fucked me or fingered me, but he did sometimes.
Well, this dude didn't make a move for my cunt. Instead, I could feel his tongue starting to move near my ass crack.
Then, he was flicking his tongue in and out of my ass-hole. He pried my hot ass cheeks apart to do it, and I could feel this kind of pain starting to surge through me as he began to probe with his fingers.
When he felt me pulling away a little bit, he slapped my ass and laughed.
"Hey, baby, you're gonna get more than a finger in your ass, so you might as well prepare yourself for it."
And then, I could feel him ramming his finger in deeper. My ass was real wet from his saliva, and that kind of made it an easier slide for his fingers. But deep down, I thought I was gonna pass out.
Luckily, by the time he was eating my ass, he wasn't holding my head, and though I continued to suck the bald man's dick, I didn't have to hold him in my throat and choke around him. There was some relief in that.
This dude was fingering my ass-hole for the longest time, and he kept his tongue there, too, so that he kept spitting more into me.
Then, he stood me up, by standing up first and pulling the back of my head. After that, he started to turn me around so I was facing him.
"Now, you're gonna sit on his dick there so he can fuck your ass."
"Shit, no," I said, thinking about how big that cock had been in my mouth.
As he was pushing me back, I could feel that dick between my ass cheeks, and I knew that I would have to try and fight it.
I made an attempt to kick the leather-jacketed man right in the balls, and he got pissed when I did that. Luckily, I ended up missing, because I have a feeling that if I had hit him, he would have really beat the shit out of me.
As it was, for just the attempt that I made, he started to slap the shit out of me, holding my head by the hair, and backhanding me across the jaw about ten times. I thought I was gonna pass out.
What he did then was just push me into his friend's lap, and as I felt the dick pressed between my ass cheeks, he got on his knees and started to tie my feet to the legs of the chair, and the poles holding the legs together.
That way, I couldn't kick the fucker anymore.
Then, he lifted me to a standing position once more, and he moved his hand down to his friend's cock. He just held it at the base so it would be sticking straight up, then pushed me right down on it, aiming the head at my ass-hole.
I tried not to let him push me down, but there was no way for me to stop it. I could feel that thick cock head penetrating my ass-hole, and I thought that I was just going to die. The pain that ripped through my flesh was too much for me to handle, and at first, I opened my mouth to scream again.
"Don't try it, bitch," I heard the leather man say, and he held his hand up as if to slap me across the face once more.
I didn't want that, but as he was opening his jacket, to reveal no shirt under it, and opening his pants to push them down, I stood up.
Or rather, I stood up as much as I could, with my feet bound like that. I stood up enough so that the bald man's dick fell out of me, and when the black-haired leather dude saw that, he seemed pissed as hell.
He slapped me across the face, then reached for some rope.
This time, he stood behind me as he held his friend's dick and guided it back into my ass, and as he was forcing me to sit, he took the rope, worked it through the ropes that kept my elbows bound together, then tied it to the back of the chair.
That way, I couldn't even stand up enough for this man's dick to fall out of me, though I could move my ass up and down a little bit.
The man with the black hair then took one more piece of rope. He tied it right around my left nipple, as tight as he could.
Then, he got down on his knees in front of me. I could feel the way he was starting to eat my pussy, and I tried to concentrate on it. The cock in my ass was burning away inside of me, but the more I felt my ass muscles loosen up to accept it, the better I was starting to feel about the whole thing.
Hey, understand me on this level, okay? I didn't like the idea of being raped like this at all, but shit, it was fucking happening and there was no way to stop it. I thought the best thing I could do, to keep me from totally freaking out and screaming, would be to just try and get into it.
I figured out that if I squeezed my ass muscles, they would open.
Then, as I started to feel this leather dude's leather rubbing against me, I kind of loved it. Also, his tongue was so wet that when he was licking my clit, I could feel my whole body tingling like mad.
He kept my clit real stiff, and he kept pulling on that rope, too, so that he was tugging at my nipple most of the time that he was eating me. At one point, I felt him starting to suck hard on my clit, and his teeth began to close around it. He was biting into it, and that hurt like hell.
When he started to grind his teeth back and forth, I thought he was ready to chew my fucking clit right off.
I choked back the tears, but he just looked up and laughed.
"Start moving your ass up and down, you cunt," he said, giving me just a moment's rest from the clit biting he was doing.
I started to slide up and down that bald man's dick, just because I thought that I could move and keep this man from eating my clit so hard. His teeth managed to stay glued to my love button, however, much to my fucking distress.
Still and all, when he started to stand up, and I got a look at his dick, I wasn't all that upset about what I knew would happen. I could see some come dripping from the slit, and his dick looked so big.
He rammed it right into my pussy with one hard thrust, and I could feel the way my hot cunt had to stretch to take him in. I had never had to stretch to take in Harry's cock, because his wasn't that big.
This leather man leaned forward and started to suck on one of my nipples while he was ramming me with that pole of his, and as he sucked one nipple, he kept pulling the rope tied to the other one, so he was stretching that.
I started to move a little bit, too, and could feel the way my body was beginning to sweat as my pleasures were rising higher and higher.
That was the whole thing which was amazing me. Although they were both raping me, and my body felt super-violated, I was getting turned on, perhaps for the very first time in my entire life. When I started to moan, this guy was calling me a slut, and all kinds of names like that.
I wanted to spit in his eye, and ask him if I was such a slut, how come he was using me and getting off. But I kept thinking of the way he'd slapped me across the face, over and over again earlier.
That could scare me enough to keep me from saying anything.
I could feel the bald dude starting to throb in my ass-hole real soon, and when he came I was kind of relieved. I wasn't even moving that much at that point, because I was kind of wiped out, from the abuse and from the pleasure.
But because he had come first, his dick started to go limp, and he fell out of me. I don't even know if the leather man knew about that, because he didn't make me try to sit on that dick again.
He was sucking my nipple like mad, sometimes biting into it and grinding his teeth around in much the same way that he had been doing it to my clit. There were these moments filled with extreme pain, followed by moments filled with intense pleasure.
It got more intense after the dick fell out of my ass-hole.
For then, only my pussy was filled, and I loved the feeling of that cock starting to ram in and out of my pussy.
Let me explain it this way. It was the very first time I'd had a cock in my pussy for more than a minute or so, because of Harry and the way he was that quick shot. Even though I was being raped blind, at least the cock kept my clit going.
There was also something about the leather that was turning me on. Now before that time, I probably never even would have thought that leather turned me on. I can't even think of anything that I owned that was leather.
But since he was so close to me, I could smell it.
I was inhaling deeply, and the sweet scent of the leather was flooding my brain. I know for a fact that it was the leather scent which made my pussy start to throb around that fucker's dick, more so than his dick.
When he felt my cunt spasming like mad, he started to moan. He pulled his mouth away from my nipple and told me that he was gonna shoot.
As he started to come in me, I could feel the way his cock was throbbing, and when that happened, his dick was kind of making me stretch even more than I'd been stretching before. It was such a fucking turn-on.
And you wanna know what else happened? That leather man didn't go limp after he had come in me once. His cock throbbed a hell of a lot, for a long fucking time, and then, he started to thrust again.
No more come was shooting out, of course, but it was also like no blood had left his dick. He was still as hard as ever, and I started to moan, because having a hard hot dick in me for this long was making me come all over the fucking place.
Well, I didn't even care about the bald dude behind me, though sitting on his dick, and just having it nestled between my ass, felt kind of nice. It was something that turned me on in a way, and even though I felt him getting hard, there was no way I was gonna ask for that cock in my ass-hole again.
I don't think the other dude even cared about that.
All he cared about was his cock in my pussy, and it was feeling good for him, I knew. As he got more and more sweaty, I could smell the leather getting wet, and that turned me on so much that I started to come all over again.
Well, he came in me real soon, and I could feel the way his cock was filling me up again with thick loads of his come.
Then, he started to pull himself out of me. His cock had started going limp, but I knew he would be able to fuck me longer, if he wanted to. He just looked at the watch he was wearing, then started to untie me.
As he untied my feet and the rope holding me to the back of the chair, he just threw me on the floor, leaving my wrists and elbows bound.
Then, he started to untie his friend, who seemed nervous.
"You're still coming with me," he said to him. "I don't care if this is the last fucking job we pull off together. I'm not leaving you here so you can squeal on me, you fucking bastard shithead."
He held the gun on baldie while he was dressing, and I could see that he was nervous. I honestly believed that the black-haired dude had it in him to kill, and got the feeling from baldie that he felt the same way, and that the reason he was so nervous was because he knew it, too, and thought he would be killed.
Once baldie was dressed, the two of them ran into the bedroom, got the stuff they had put into this sack, then ran out of the house.
They pulled the door closed, and I lay there, with come dripping out of me for the longest time, until Harry came home. I had thought of screaming for help, but felt too embarrassed to want someone else to come in and find me.
When Harry did come home, I burst into tears. I think that I might have just been waiting for him to come in before crying, because I hadn't cried before then. After all, there was no one to hear it.
I thought that my hands were going to fall off by then, because of the way my wrists had been bound, and he freed me, and helped me put on a robe.
Then, we called the police, and I had to tell them everything.
I could see that they were looking at me with some doubt, and from some of the questions that I heard that night, I suspected that they thought I lured the two men into the house for them to have me.
"Do you always run around on the beach like that?" one cop asked.
"It's your normal bikini," I said. "Millions of girls wear them."
"Yeah. I take it then that millions of girls are asking for trouble."
I wanted to slap him when he insinuated shit like that, but there was nothing that I could do. In the end, because of the way they kept interrogating me, we decided that we were just going to try and find these men and press charges against the robbery, but not the rape. It pissed me off and made me so angry.
I was able to supply a lot of information so they could make sketches of what these men looked like, and I thought it would be so easy to find them After all, the bald man wouldn't be hard to spot.
That night, Harry wanted to make love to me, but I just told him that my body was still sore from what happened that day. I could tell he was mad about that, which really pissed me off, if you want to know the truth. After all, think about what I had been put through, and all that shit.
That was all I could think about that evening, in fact. I kept tossing and turning as I relived that rape over and over again in my mind. I could see the two of them so clearly, and two huge cocks. I could feel the cock burning through my ass-hole and then the other one, making my pussy flow with pleasure.
Harry woke me up at one point in the evening to ask me what was wrong, and I told him nothing. He said I'd been moaning in my sleep.
I started to think about the thing that had thrilled me the most when I'd been with those two men. It had not been the man's cock in my cunt, as much as the feeling I had had running through my body when I'd tied the bald man.
For those few seconds, I had almost forgotten that I, too, was to be tied when this man was all tied up. I had felt a kind of power running through my body, and it was to be the first time I would ever think of that power.
Anyway, what happened between me and Harry after that was all downhill, and we'd been in the valleys long before the rape.
He kept wanting to know every detail about what those men had done, and exactly what I'd been feeling at each time. I believe that Harry was well aware of his problem with sex before he married me, and thought that since I was a virgin the first time and got off, I would never know what I was missing.
But when he would make love to me after that rape, and his dick would shoot inside of me less than a few seconds after entry, I would groan with frustration.
"Can't you ever stay hard for more than a few seconds?" I would ask him, and I didn't care if it was hurting his feelings. His unsatifying sex was sure as hell bumming me out, let me tell you that.
Also, I would have preferred if he ate me more, but he never did, and I didn't like him fingering me all those times instead of fucking me, like he should have been doing.
A year later, we were separated, and I got to keep the house. I didn't even want it because it brought back such bad memories but I got it, and a car.
Now nothing had ever happened with the cops. They'd never caught the two men and whenever I would call up, I'd be given so many bullshit stories.
Also, at that time, I met this dude who I took home with me once. He wanted me to tie him up and then abuse him, and I didn't really know how. I won't even go into detail now on how he taught me to do it.
All that matters is that when I had him bound and was whipping him with this rope, I could feel my juices flowing like mad. I could feel my knees shaking because I was so excited, I could hardly stand up.
He said he wanted to see me again, and gave me about fifty dollars to go out and buy some leather stuff that he wanted me to use on him. He wanted a whip, a cat o' nine tails, and a few dildoes.
I didn't really know if I could use anything like that on a dude, but I'm glad that I went out to buy those things, because if I hadn't, I never would have seen that fucking bald bastard again. He worked in the sex shop I went into to buy the stuff.
I knew he recognized me as he was ringing up my purchase, and that was what really made me sure it was him. You see, he was wearing this toupee which looked shitty, and maybe I wouldn't have recognized him had he not acted that way.
But I said nothing. I just had the greatest idea, and I quickly ran home and got the pistol that my husband had bought a few days after the robbery.
I sat in that fucking car for hours outside of the store, waiting for him to get off work, and as soon as he did, I walked up right behind him.
I had the gun in my bag, but I had my bag near his back, and I let him know that I not only knew who he was, but would blast a hole right through his body if he did not follow me to my car. I tied his hands behind his back before I pushed him in.
Then I walked around to my side and got it. I made sure I had the right man by pulling off that cheap toupee of his.
I drove back to my house as fast as I could, and forced him out of the car with the gun. I was prepared to use all my new toys on him.
I took him into my bedroom and untied his hands from behind his back, and by holding the gun on him, it was easy for me to get them tied to the bedpost. I think I really would have blown his brains out.
After I tied his hands up, I started to rip his clothing open.
His body was as hairless as it had ever been, and I could see that his cock was still the same size. He could see me eying his dick, and he smiled.
"Yeah, you probably kept thinking about it, huh?" he asked.
I was wearing my bikini, which I tended to almost always wear under whatever it was I had on over it. I hadn't worn the bikini to go shopping, but was more comfortable in it when I got home.
His cock was twitching because he kept looking at me, and I was so pissed by his remark that I pulled out the leather cat o' nine tails.
"Just watch who you're talking to, and remember who's in charge now, you mother." I screamed at him, and lashed his chest hard with the whip.
I know I did it hard because at least three different strands ripped through the flesh on his chest, and he groaned with pain.
I saw blood there, and I just had to laugh and then, whip him lower down on his belly, real close to his hairless crotch. I wanted him to know that I was a woman who would not hesitate to rip his cock off with a whip.
His dick had even gone a little bit limp when I first lashed him, and I moved my hand to it and started to pump it up and down so that I would get some blood back into it. It was true, that I wanted his dick.
I sat down on it when it was hard, and held the man's head up by taking my thick leather whip and wrapping it around his neck. I squeezed it tight to let him know that I might even choke him to death.
"Now," I said to him, slapping him hard, "I want to know where your fucking partner is. I thought you might be dead because of him, but since I found you first, I want to know where that mother-fucker is."
"I don't know," he said, and I reached behind his body and grabbed his balls. I pulled them real hard in their sack, and squeezed and twisted them so hard that he was groaning for mercy but I showed none.
"You tell me where that fuckhead is, or you're dead."
I could feel great pleasure from his cock inside of my pussy, but tha was not the thing which was turning me on as much as the power I had over him. I could see the way he was already starting to weaken as I squeezed his huge balls.
"Tell me," I screamed at him, slapping him a bit with my other free hand.
And he started to tell me that he wasn't really sure, but though his partner was at such and such an address.
I wrote it down, but I didn't feel like I was finished with the bald bastard. I continued to ride his dick up and down until I came a few times, and I made sure that he wouldn't come. There were times when he would start to breathe like a man about to shoot, and I'd just slow my ride down.
Then, I would wait for his cock pulsations to subside.
I must have done it to him about five times, and finally, I pulled myself off his cock and left it sticking straight up in the air.
"Hey, let me come," he was moaning. "You gotta let me come."
A quick lash to his chest with the thick leather whip I'd first had around his neck, let him know that I didn't have to do shit. All I had to do was whip him as much as I wanted, and I didn't want to let him come.
I pushed his legs up over his head then, and took out the dildo I had bought.
"Hey, what the hell are you going to do with that?" he screamed.
"You were the first dick in my ass-hole, so I want to be the first dick in yours."
I rubbed some grease on it, though I realized that I didn't have to do it. I could have forced it into his ass-hole dry, and that would have taught him a lesson. I could have really made him squirm.
As it was, he was squirming already, his body writhing with pain. I could hear him groaning about how he thought I was gonna kill him, but I didn't really give a shit about that, for I'd felt the same way once before, with him fucking my ass.
"It was all his doing anyway," he said to me. "He forced me to do it to you. Don't get even with me. I was tied up, too."
"I don't give two fucks about that," I let him know. "You still did it."
I could see the way his cock had gone limp while I fucked his ass with the dildo, but you can bet that I didn't give a shit about that, either.
In fact, I was having a hell of a lot of fun using it on him. I kept slamming it in and out of his ass, and I could see his balls bouncing up and down. I guess I went on with what I was doing for another reason.
You see, I could see the way his ass was starting to get a little sore, and though I had been nice and had started to fuck his ass with a lubed dildo, I wasn't too nice for too long. You see, the lube started to wear off.
Soon, he was moaning and squirming, and telling me that it hurt.
Even later, I could see that there was another kind of lube on this dildo, and that was this bastard's own blood.
I had made his ass bleed by fucking him for so long, and I started to turn the dildo around a little bit, to try and tear some of the skin off. I was twisting it in a clockwise direction, and this man opened his mouth and started to scream.
I whipped his ass but good, this time getting his buttocks. I wasn't in the mood to have anyone come running to help him.
I finally pulled that dildo out of his ass-hole, and I could see that his ass was starting to drip with blood. I though about what I could do. I could untie him and force him outside. The idea of pushing him onto the sand and letting the little grains of sand enter his ass-hole really thrilled me, only because I knew how much something like that would have to hurt him.
But one thing kept running through my mind. Maybe he and his ex-partner were still pretty close after all, but maybe they were not.
At any rate, the idea of being sent on a wild goose chase was not thrilling me too much, and that's what made me decide.
I was going to keep baldie tied up to the bed until I went to check out his pal. If he lied to me, I was gonna kill him.
I told him that as I started to put my clothing back on over my bikini, and when he said he would die if I left him there, I shook my shoulders.
"Suit yourself, mother-fucker. I don't give a damn if you die."
I put one towel under his ass, so the dripping blood would be absorbed there and I wouldn't have to worry too much about messy sheets.
I put another towel into his mouth, stuffing it in, as a matter-of-fact, and then taking some tape and tying it around his mouth and the back of his head to make sure that he wouldn't spit it out.
I washed off the dildo, then put my whips into the bag, along with my pistol.
"I'm going to look for your friend now," I said to him. "I'm going there, and that's why you're staying here. He'd better be there. Now you did give me the right address, didn't you?"
He was shaking his head yes, but his eyes bulged with fear. I could tell that he wanted to talk, but didn't want to go through taking the tape off his mouth, and taking the towel off. What I did want to do, desperately, was send more fear through him.
I walked right over and held the pistol to his temple.
"If you lied to me, your brains are gonna be lying all over this bed when I get back here, you bald ugly bastard," I said.
He was actually sweating as I talked to him, and that turned me on.
I ran out of the house, locking him in, then hopped into my car. The excitement of this revenge I was going to be taking was just making my pussy flow with the most intense pleasure I'd felt in the longest time.
It was not so much the revenge, I knew, as it was the feeling of domination.
Dominating that bastard had just turned me on so much. It had, in fact, turned me on more than it did when I would dominate my friend, that first time, and even the times that were to follow.
The reason, I think, was because my revenge was justifiable, and I wanted to see those men suffer like mad.
Later on in life, I would discover a part of me that wanted to see most men suffer, and once that would happen, my dominating would be complete.
I was speeding to get where I was going, for that was how much I wanted to get that mother-fucker, and when I arrived at the address, I was rather shocked.
It was a real ritzy apartment building, and I couldn't imagine this burglar living there. The thought of him having enough money to live in a place like that was really pissing me off, when I thought about the way he had robbed me blind.
Luckily, the doorman wasn't there, and I just snuck off toward the elevator and pressed a button to take me up. The bald bastard had given me the address, and the apartment number, so that made it easier for me.
As I approached the apartment, I could hear the sound of someone groaning. I couldn't figure out if she was groaning in pain or pleasure, but a few seconds later, I was to know one way or the other. I knocked on the door, and heard a gruff voice telling whoever it was out there (me, of course) to get the fuck away.
Of course, I had no intentions of following those orders, especially when I recognized the voice that was telling me to get away. It was his all right. He had said enough things for that voice to have been recorded in my mind.
I banged on the door again, then heard the sound of someone walking over.
There was a peephole that he could look out of, and I moved to one side of the door and reached for my pistol. If he had gotten a look at me, I'm sure that he never would have opened the door to let me in.
He started to walk away, I could hear, so I banged once more.
"Now what the fuck is going on out here?" he asked, and I could hear him opening the door. He stuck his head out, and that was it.
I pushed the pistol right against his temple, and cocked the trigger.
"Don't you make a move now, you mother-fucker," I said to him.
He turned and looked at me, and I could tell, just from the upper part of his body that was sticking out of the door, that he was naked.
I pushed my way in, and when I looked over, I could not believe what I saw.
There was this rope hanging from a beam in the ceiling, and connected to it was a ring, and then there was this other rope.
Connected to it was a broom, and this black-haired bitch was kind of tied to that hanging broom, with her legs pulled back over it, and then tied to her wrists so that she couldn't really move too much.
I knew it was his work, by his fucking trademark. There were two cords tied to her nipples, one on each. I remembered the way he had tied that one cord to my nipple and pulled it so hard, I though my tit would come off.
He smiled at me when I looked back at him, almost as if he wanted to know whether or not I was admiring his art work.
"Get some more fucking cord, you bastard," I said to him. "I'm gonna tie you up and then get revenge for what you did to me."
He made, a move, as if he was going to get me and I held the pistol tighter.
"I won't hesitate to blow your brains out. The cops have your description from over a year ago, and I think I could even get off for killing you. I think they'd be pretty happy that I did it, too."
He looked over near the corner, and I saw a strjng of thick cord.
I walked right over and cut a piece. The first thing I did was tie his wrists together in front of his body, so tight, that I could see the way his hands were throbbing seconds after I had him bound.
I wanted to cut off the circulation. I was even thinking that the longer I kept him tied, the more of a chance there would be that the blood wouldn't circulate, and maybe he'd even have to have his hands cut off.
"Not, get on your hands and knees," I said to him, and I tied some ropes around his upper arms and thighs, so that he was in a kneeling position. I made sure that I could pull his cock and balls through his legs, from behind and all.
"Did he tie you up like this?" I asked the girl, as I started to peel off my clothing. "I mean, bitch, did he try to rape you?"
"That's my wife," he said to me, smiling rather slyly.
"Is that true?" I had to ask her, because I knew he was the kind of bastard who could lie about almost anything in the world.
She shook her head, and I was real pissed. I thought that any bitch who would marry a man who would do that to her, had to be off her fucking rocker. I told her as much, and when she started to protest, I had other things to add.
"Look, lady, I don't know if you know it, but last year this husband of yours not only robbed my house, but him and his bald partner raped me." , "You mean, Len?" she asked me, and I was hating her more and more, so just to let her know that, I grabbed the two nipple tying cords and yanked them.
"I don't know what his fucking name was you stupid cunt. What the hell do you think he did, leave a calling card?"
"It was Len," she said to me. "He's nothing but a half wit."
"Well half of his wits was enough to tell me where I could find your fucking husband. I've been dreaming of this revenge for ages."
"He raped you?" she asked me, and she seemed shocked.
"That's about the gist of it, sister," I said to her, and I looked at him.
I was completely naked by that time, and I could see his ass right in front of me. I wanted to let him know, right away, that I meant business.
Therefore, I slashed his ass hard with the whip, with my very first stroke. I could see the leather cutting right into his ass cheek, and he groaned with pain as he felt it ripping through his skin.
"You crazy lying bitch," he said to me. "It's true, baby. She is lying." He was trying to convince his wife that I was some sickie liar, and that pissed me off, perhaps more than anything else. I started to lash his ass over and over again, and I could feel myself coming hard. I thought about him, and the fact that had it not been for him, I probably never would have realized how much I liked leather, but that didn't make me want to help him any more. I mean, I just wanted to kill that fucker.
Then, I thought about the dildo that I had. I reached into my bag and pulled it out. His ass, I kept thinking, was gonna get it raw, because he had been real mean to me. Besides, I was getting off on making him bleed.
I slammed the dildo into his ass, and his wife started to scream.
I decided that I would do something to get at both of those shitheads at the same time. The dildo had a few holes in the back, near the end of it. I think they were there so you could strap it onto a belt.
I took the ropes that were hanging from his wife's tits and started to slide them through the holes. Then I tied knots, and when I stood behind him working that dildo in and out of his ass-hole, I was also ripping at her nipples.
That was when I knew she loved to be abused, because she was moaning with pleasure.
"You're a fucking sick bitch," I said to her, and she spit at me.
No one could spit at me and get away with it as long as I was in charge, so I started to whip her buttocks until they were a little bit bloody, too. I loved the way I could control that whip, and make them bleed.
She started to cry right away, but I told her I would gag her if she didn't shut her fucking mouth soon. She did.
Then, I decided that I wanted to do something with that fucker's dick, which was so limp already, probably because of the way I kept abusing him. I took another piece of cord and tied it around the head of his dick.
I pulled the cord hard, stretching his limp cock, right through his legs, then brought the cord around and over one of his buttocks, and tied the other end around his neck. That way, each time he moved in a certain way, the cord was pulling and stretching on his dick, making his squirm with pain.
That was when I thought about something else, which turned me on.
I could remember the way that fucker had loved sucking my pussy, only now, he would have to do it the way I wanted to.
He had been the first man to make me come while eating me, although he had started to get brutal when he would bite my clit. I knew that as long as I was the one in charge I could get him to eat me and not have to worry about that.
I moved right in front of him, and had to stoop down a little to get myself on the same level that he was on.
Then, I pressed my hot pussy against his face, and told him to eat.
At first, he kept his mouth closed, like he wasn't gonna do anything that I told him to do. I was happy about the way I'd bound his dick, and even happier about the fact that he was limp, because I believe that it honestly hurt him more when I tugged on the cord, and pulled on his limp dick.
I pulled the cord that was around his dick, connected to his neck, and he screamed.
"Now lick me, mother-fucker," I said, and as he started to, I could feel the way my juices wee just dripping out of me.
He started to nibble on my clit, which was pretty hot, but then, when he was grinding his teeth around it, and trying to bite into it, I had to lash his back as hard as I could with the whip, cutting him there, too.
His wife groaned when I did that to him, almost as if she had been the one to feel the whip ripping through her flesh.
"Next time you try to bite me," I warned him, "I might just have to pull this rope so fucking hard, that I pull your fucking dick off.
Now I doubt that your wife would like a man with no dick, but I wouldn't give a shit."
And I pressed my cunt back against his face.
It was then that I realized the dominating trip was really what turned me on. You see, I wasn't even concerned about his cock or whether or not it would fuck me. I was happy just forcing him to eat my pussy, and once again, his tongue felt so wet and good as he pressed it right against my clit.
I made sure to keep my balance, though, and keep it all together, too. I didn't want him to think for a moment that I was going to let my pleasure get the best of me and not continue to whip and punish him.
That's why every so often, when I would feel my pussy juices starting to flow more steadily, and feel my orgasm about to take me through a weird kind of rush where I felt I might lose control, I'd lash that mother-fucker.
I could feel him sometimes trying to bite me, just as the lash would hit him, as if he thought he could get his revenge that way.
Overall, I was coming so hard, that it was one of the best experiences of my life.
But even when I was finished coming, and wanted to leave, I kept thinking that I hadn't gotten my jus revenge with this fucker. I had fucked his ass with the dildo, but not even as much as I'd done it to his partner. Of course, his partner had had some lube to start with, while he didn't.
So just to make sure that I would really leave him hurt, with something that might always hurt him for the rest of his life, I moved back behind him and started to work that dildo in and out of his ass-hole so fucking fast.
I could hear him groaning with pain, and see the way he had his head on the floor to kind of muffle his mouth against the floor.
I twisted it around, like I had done it with his partner, but that time, I ended up leaving the dildo in him.
You see, by the time I was finished, it was such a bloody mess, that I didn't really want to take it out.
I thought an explosion of his blood would come shooting out of his ass.
I started to get dressed, leaving them tied the way they were, then began to look around the apartment. I walked into the bedroom.
Well, he took all he shit from me, so I thought I might as well take some back, along with some stuff he probably stole from other people. I found my gold wedding band, and a few others. I found some real diamonds.
I even took our portable television back, because they had taken that.
As I started to walk out of the apartment, he started to scream at me.
"Hey, you fucking thief, put that stuff back. Put it back."
"Hey, mother-fucker, remember who you took this from to begin with."
I knew that they could both die if I left them bound, and I wanted to shut him up anyway. I walked right over to him and whacked him on the side of the head with my portable television. That knocked him out cold, and I didn't untie him completely, but did loosen the bonds so he would be able to untie himself.
When he got up, that is. I could hear her yelling to him, trying to wake him up, but I was already running down the hall, and soon, out the building.
I got back to my place and the bald fuckhead was still bound to the bed. I decided to work his cock up, and I started to move my mouth down on it.
Slowly, the blood filled his shaft. I think he wanted anything to turn him on because of the way his ass was starting to feel sore. The bleeding had stopped, but I'm sure he was gonna have scabs in his ass for a long time.
When his cock was hard, I rode it up and down for a long time, making myself come, but making sure that he didn't come until I wanted him to. I did let him come, mind you, because I wanted to feel a load shot into my pussy.
Then, after he came, I knocked him out and carried him out to the beach. I just threw him on the sand, with his clothing next to him. I made sure that he was lying on his back so the sand would get into his ass.
I called my friend a few minutes later, the one I had bought all the stuff for, and told him that he had to come pick me up.
The reason, of course, was because I didn't want either one of these men to ever come back and find me. I knew I had to give up the house. I think I knew I would have to give it up before I even got even with those fuckers, because they did know where I lived, and I didn't want them to come back to get me.
The last time I saw my little house was when Mike was driving off with me, into the sunset, so to speak. He said that he would handle selling it for me, and I told him that he'd better get me a good price.
I commanded him to get me a good price, and I knew he loved it.
When we got back to his place, in fact, I slipped into a leather bra he had bought, then picked up my thick whip. I had washed all the blood off of that, and as I stood in front of my slave friend, I told him to strip and get on his knees and eat my hot pussy as fast as he could.
He was so eager, that he was ripping at his clothing while his mouth was already down near my pussy, licking and sucking my clit.
I could feel my pleasures flowing through my body, and I let the leather dangle over his hard cock. Each time I saw the leather touching his cock head, I would hear him moaning, and I looked down and saw the way his dick twitched.
Next, I told him to lay back. I started to realize how much more I enjoyed being on top when I fucked a man.
That was because I could control the rate that I moved on the man. Since I was always aware of what was happening inside of my own body, when I would feel myself about ready to come, I could ride the dick faster and harder, which was just what I ended up doing, so my explosions were sensational.
Mike was moaning, and thrusting up, and since I didn't have the dildo with me, I decided to use my fingers. I drove them into his ass and he was squirming with a combination of pain and pleasure combined. I could hear him moaning about how my fingers were just turning him on so much, and would make him come real soon.
I had had enough orgasms for the evening, and when he exploded inside of me, I was working my pussy muscles around
his dick so they would suck the cream out. I could hear him moaning so loud, and he was telling me that he wanted me to be his mistress always, which sounded good for a while.
I was with Mike for about a year or two. I kind of lose track. I just got bored of him after a while, and once I had my house sold, I knew I had money to travel, which was just what I felt like doing.
I split on him one day without telling him, though I took all of the leather and dildo toys, to continue my search for people to dominate.
I've learned something, from all of these couples. The harder you do it, the more you send fear through them, and the more you end up satisfying them. Though I've never drawn as much blood as I did with that black-haired dude and his wife, all I have to do is draw a little blood from the husband when I'm with other couples, and that's enough to let them know I mean serious business, and scare them shitless.
And I do mean serious business. Fucking serious business.
THE STORY OF MIRANDA
Sometimes a woman just has to do certain things to keep her man, and I guess I'm that kind of a woman. Of course, I would only do it to keep the right man, and maybe you're wondering what my idea of the right man is.
Rich. That's all that counts with me. Rich. Money dripping from his pores.
Sometimes my friends will look at me when I go out with Roger, wondering what I would ever see in a man like him.
You must understand that Roger is short, and bald, and a little on the rotund side, but there are still some good things about him. His bank account, for one.
Anyway, he knows that I like about him, which is one of the things that makes me end up liking him even more. There are no pretensions in our marriage, there never were, and I doubt there ever will be.
I was with my friend Shirl at a bar when she first noticed him cruising me, and I decided to play along with him. Why not let this loser buy me a drink, I kept thinking, and soon he had bought me many.
Soon he was taking me home, though I didn't let him in to fuck me. He said he wanted to see me again and again, and that sounded cool.
Then one night, when we were kind of high, he started to tell me that he was looking for a certain kind of woman to complete his life.
"You're not it," he said to me. "For one thing, you're too old."
"How fucking dare you. I'm only in my mid-thirties."
"And that's a fucking old maid back where I come from, you know."
He laughed about that, and I wanted to slug him, but he went on.
"You see, much as I could probably get into having sex with you, you're really not what I like in a woman. But I want to be married to someone, someone that I can fuck on occasion, but someone to do even more."
"What do you want done, Master?" I asked him, joking around.
"I want you to get me slaves," he said to me. "I know that you're bi, baby."
How he had known that, I don't think I'll ever know. Maybe you can tell when a woman is into both men and women if you study her enough and see where she tends to look. I'll turn my head if I see a hot looking bitch walk by, just as I'll turn my head if I see some hot looking man walk by.
"Slaves?" I asked him, smiling. "What do you want them for?"
"To play with. A slave I can play with and then dispose of."
"Oh? And don't you want to play with me?"
"You don't want to play the way I do," he said to me. "I can assure you of that."
Now I was being a bit of a haughty bitch. It really pissed me off that this fucker didn't think I could play his way, so I told him to try me.
Well, that evening was one of the first and last times he ever did it to me the way that he gets off doing it. He stripped me, revealing my large tits with the stiff brown nipples, and my brown pubic patch and cunt lips.
Then, he tied my hands behind my back and pulled the rope tight. After that, he started to stick pins in my tits. No, they weren't really pins. They were fish hooks, and let me tell you they fucking hurt like hell. I thought that I was gonna die when he pushed one right through my nipple, because I know how hard they are to take out.
Then, he forced me onto my knees in front of him, and he pulled his pants open in a matter of seconds. Roger had this really huge dick, the kind that I'm sometimes afraid to handle, because they're so big that you think they're gonna rip you open.
"See," he said o me. "Most women are afraid to come near ths big dick. God made me ugly as sin, but gave me a big dick, as if He thought it would make up for it. Well, it doesn't, because even if you find a bitch who loves a dick, and loves a big one, most are scared of them this big."
He forced me onto my knees, then started to fuck my face.
Each time that thick cock head of his ripped into my throat, and even stretched my throat wide .apart, I thought I would choke to death. Luckily, he kept telling me, he would not abuse me as much as he would a real slave.
What he was doing to me then was a kind of demonstration. But at one point he rammed his cock deep into my mouth, so the head was jammed into my throat, and he held himself there for ages. I was gagging and salivating around his cock shaft, and he was laughing like a mean mother-fucker.
"See, bitch. I won't even hold you too long like this, but if I had a slave I would hold her until I was through."
He meant, of course, that he would hold her down on his dick until he was ready to shoot off, and that could take a while.
You see, and I would only learn this much later in life, Roger's father taught him that women were nothing more than the dog shit on the streets, and they were meant to be abused and beaten. Though I never told Roger what I thought, I believe his father just told him that because he knew how ugly his son was.
He probably realized that most women would laugh at the way Roger looked, so taught him to do it this way so no one would ever laugh.
I know that I wasn't laughing as he pulled his prick out of my mouth, and then pushed me back on the carpet. He raised my legs up and then slammed his cock into my pussy with one hard thrust, that had me screaming.
"Shut up, you stupid cunt," he said, and he slapped me across the face, then pressed his hand over my mouth to muffle the screams.
I was used to getting fucked, of course, but his was a dick of death. I was even a little wet when he started, and would be getting wetter as he went on fucking me, but the size of his cock was just one of those sizes that's impossible to handle when you're a normal woman with a normal-sized cunt.
He seemed to know it, too, and I could tell that he was slowing down a little bit to try and make me get turned on.
When his cock head was just between my cunt lips rubbing over my clit, that turned me on, and soon, I got used to his size.
However, Roger had to go about it real slow in order to make me get used to his enormous size, and he told me that he would never do it that way with a slave. A slave was to be abused, and if she didn't get'used to his size, then she would just have to feel pain the whole time, until he was ready to come.
When he did start to come in my cunt, I could feel waves of pleasure flowing through my body. I started to come a little bit, and noticed that my pussy was hardly even spasming because his cock was so big, that it couldn't.
He just shot out all of his load into me, then pulled back.
"Now that was easy, wasn't it, baby?" he asked me, with something of a sly smile on his face. "Real nice and easy."
Pulling the hooks out of my tits was making me bleed a little bit, and my pussy was real sore after the whole thing.
"Now let me get this straight," I said to him. "If I marry you, you'll give me anything I want, and all I have to do is get you slave girls."
"That's all," he said to me, and he smiled.
And so, we were married, and the very first night when we were in Acapulco on our honeymoon, we were sitting in the dining room, and he saw this luscious brown-haired thing sitting all alone on one side of the room.
She had long brown hair and two of the most lovely eyes I'd ever seen. They were real big and bright. When she stood up for a second, I could see she had a decent enough figure, though she lacked in the tit department.
"Tell me something, Roger. What exactly are you going to do to her?" I asked, because I was a little nervous. She looked somewhat young and naive, and I didn't want him really hurting her that badly.
"That's no concern of yours, though you can watch," he said. "But don't you dare try to interfere until I'm finished. If you do, you'll be punished."
"Well then, excuse me. I'll meet you back in the room, lover."
I stood up and walked over to her table. She was dining alone, and I asked her if I could join her. She seemed happy to have some company, then explained that she'd come down to Acapulco with her friend Nan, who had met someone the first day and was now spending all her time with this man.
"So then, you're basically alone," I said to her, trying to feel her out and see if I could tell where her head was at.
"Yeah. I'm pissed at Nan, too. She had me thinking that she was ... well, we were pretty close, and then she goes and does a turn-around."
I knew that this girl, whose name was Cindy, was a lesbian, or at leas bi. She didn't have to say it to let me know that she and Nan had been lovers when they came down, but that Nan had gone the dick route.
"Well, I'm looking for some fun," I said to her. "We can go back to my room."
"Far out," she said. "I'm horny as hell."
I turned and winked at my husband as I led Cindy out of the dining room, toward our room. I figured that he would give us a little time before coming in.
I hadn't even thought about the fact that Cindy had been looking around the dining room while Roger and I had been eating. She started to ask me who the ugly dude I was with was, and I told her it was my brother.
When we were in the room, I closed the door, then led her to the bed.
When I'm with a woman, I usually like to take the aggressive role, and it was no different with Cindy. I started to kiss her on the neck, and as I was, I moved my hand to her blouse buttons and opened them slowly.
Her tits were cone-shaped, and small like I had thought. The nipples were pretty big, however, and I slid my lips around one and felt it stiffen in an instant, without even using my tongue at all yet.
When I did start to flick my tongue back and forth over her nipple, I could hear the way that she was moaning nice and loud.
I pressed my hand between her legs, and felt her close her legs nice and tight, as if she was loving the way my hand felt there.
It didn't take long before I had her flat on the bed, naked.
She trimmed her pussy patch, I could tell, and I liked that. I started to suck on her brown cunt hairs, while she was moaning about how fucking sensational this was feeling. I think she even said, at one point, that she could easily love a woman like me.
I hated her saying all this shit and you can understand why if you realize that I knew I was setting this cunt up. That was just what I was doing. Setting her up for my ugly big-dicked husband to use as he pleased.
And I didn't even know what he was gonna do, though he had told me that the brutal things he did to me weren't that bad compared to what he was capable of.
I started to lick her cunt though, spreading her pussy lips so I could flick her little clit back and forth fast and hard. I loved the way it tasted when her juices began to surge and flow into my mouth, and she was moaning hard as she tried to catch her breath. Her clit was throbbing under my tongue touch.
A few seconds later, I could hear the door opening. I don't think that she heard it right away, for I noticed she had her eyes closed.
I saw him moving closer to the bed, and perhaps she just sensed that there was another presence in the room. She opened her eyes, and before she could let out the scream, his hand was over her mouth, with a chloroform rag covering her nose and mouth.
Of course, I didn't know that at first. I saw her pass out, and when I started to cry because I honestly thought he'd killed her, he laughed, and he slapped me hard across the face once again.
"Stupid bitch. I didn't kill her. Sometimes you can be so dumb."
Then, I watched as his cock was growing in his pants. I could see the huge bulge that was starting to grow there, and he rubbed it as he just ran his other hand up and down her naked body. When he spread her cunt lips and saw all the cream, he smiled at me and made some kind of remark about what a cunt eater I was.
Then, I watched as he took this leather gag out of the suitcase. He strapped it around her mouth, connecting it to these earrings she had on, that were pierced through both of her ears. There was this leather band connected to the front of the mask and I had no idea what it was there for until he bound her arm through it.
I didn't even catch the way he started to tie both of her arms to one of her legs, so she couldn't even move that much. It was all very complicated, mind you, and since my eyes were still kind of teary, as I was wondering what the fuck I had done, I didn't really even try to take note.
I did take note of what he did to her nipples, though, because he had done something similar to mine. He took a string that had two fish hooks connected to it, and then he pushed one through her nipple, and the other right into her navel.
That was when Cindy first showed signs of life again for I could hear her groan, though she didn't open her eyes right away.
He tied a string around her thumb, and tied the other end of it around her nipple so tight, that I could see the brown dot throbbing.
After that, he sat her on the floor, and started to slap her across the face. Now I knew what his slaps were like, so I knew that he was hurting her. As she opened her eyes, he was starting to get undressed.
"Hello," he said to her. "I see that you and my wife were starting to get it on. I think you're a pig for trying to take my wife away from me. But that's all right. I'm going to make you my slave, now."
He was soon completely naked, and let me tell you that it was not such a wonderful sight to see this man naked. As a matter-of-fact, it was kind of gross, but I could never say anything like that to him.
The thing that one tended to notice the most when seeing him naked, was his cock, because the rest of him was so large and gross, that his cock stood out.
On a nicer looking man, it would probably be the most proud, powerful weapon in the world. On him, it looked like a tool of vengeance. I was convinced even more, just then, that his father had to have known how ugly he was, and how his cock was the only thing he had going for him.
Cindy was terrified. As her tits heaved up and down, I could see that there was some blood dripping from her nipple, because of the fish hook. She gave me a look which let me know she was very angry with me.
He started to slap her across the face with his cock, and I could see the way she kept trying to move her head. Then, he opened one side of the gag so it fell from in front of her mouth, and he was rubbing his cock against her lips.
"Tell me how much you want to suck my dick," he told her.
"Are you crazy? The only thing I'd like to do with that dick is cut it off."
I wanted to warn her not to say things like that, but he did. He pulled her hair and when she screamed, I saw his entire shaft disappear between her lips. I saw the way she was choking on it as his cock head invaded her throat.
He did not hold himself in her mouth for too long. He pulled back after a few seconds, and rubbed the saliva onto his shaft. Then, he pulled at her tit that had the nipple all tied, and he was laughing.
"Now, who is your Master, you bitch?" he asked her.
"I don't have any masters," she said. "I hate all men, and you're the perfect reason why. You think you're so hot because you have that dick? Well let me tell you buster, it's the only thing you got worth anything. You're ugly as sin."
He reached for this leather whip, and suddenly moved behind her. I saw the way he started to raise the whip up and lash her flesh over and over.
I could see the way it was cutting into her back, and as she tried to crawl onto her hands and knees, he got down on his knees behind her.
"Now you tell me who the Master is, you cunt," he said, and he ripped into her body by slamming his cock into her pussy. I heard her groan with pain, and I wanted to do something to help her.
I quickly stripped off my skirt and panties and moved in front of her.
I know that sometimes when I'm with a man that I don't like, I can get off by dreaming about pussies. There is nothing that a cunt can do to ever harm a woman, the way a man's cock can. A cock can be a loving weapon, but let's not forget that it can also be a tool to kill with.
He was ripping her pussy apart and she was hating it, so I moved my cunt in front of her face, thinking that she could suck it.
She started to dig her tongue between my cunt lips, and I felt her wiggling my clit back and forth, but only for a few seconds.
For as soon as she had it between her teeth, she bit into it.
"Why you fucking bitch," I screamed at her, and I slapped her.
"He's killing me," she started to scream. "I don't want to lick you when this bastard is "killing me. He's killing me."
I looked at her and could see the way her whole face was filled with pain. I didn't want him to really hurt her so much.
This was to be the first, and very last time, that I would interfere with him.
I walked behind him as he was thrusting hard, still trying to get her to admit that he was the Master, not only of her, but over the whole world. He kept ramming his dick in and out of her ass to try and make her say it.
"Stop, please," I said, and when he wouldn't, I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him back, so he fell onto his ass.
Of course, that mammoth dick of his fell out of her, and I heard her let out a sigh of relief. I felt happy that I'd saved her.
I did not feel happy about what happened next.
Roger sat up; and he glared at me with much anger. He suddenly reached for his leather whip again, then lashed it out at me. He cut right through one of my tits, and there was blood dripping from it, making me tremble with fear.
"We made a deal, you fucking bitch," he said to me. "We made a fucking deal and you couldn't even stick to it. We made a fucking deal."
I tried to get up to run, but he was too fast. Somehow, he tackled me and then pulled my hands behind my back. He tied them with the leather whip, so that I could not pull myself free at all.
He reached for something. It was a can of grease, and I had no idea why he wanted to grease up his cock to fuck my pussy.
It was because he wanted to fuck my ass. He knew how much his cock could hurt my cunt, but it could turn me on when he was nice. He wanted to make sure that I was going to feel pain, the kind of pain a girl being punished is supposed to feel. He was doing it to make sure I would learn and always remember.
I was pushed face forward across the bed, and then he slammed it into me. When I started to scream, he held my mouth covered, and as he was thrusting in and out of my ass, driving into me each time he thrust in, I could hear him whispering.
. "Never. Never. Never do it again. If you ever do that again, I could kill you. I could really kill you. We made a deal."
I could feel the way his cock started to throb inside of me a few seconds later, and I was happy that the ass fuck took only about a minute. Still, that minute of invasion made me feel a pain in my ass for the next week, and I couldn't sit for a number of days after he that evening.
With his cock semi limp, he moved back to Cindy, and rammed it into her cunt from behind. I think she had learned a valuable lesson from what she had just seen, because the next time he started to ask her if she was his slave, she said yes.
"Then tell me how good a Master I am," he said to her.
She started to make up all this shit.
"You're my true Master because your cock is so big and you can fill me up better than any other cock in the world. And when you're ready to come I can feel the gism just filling me up all the way."
He was getting so turned on that I could hear him moaning loud and soon, I knew that he was coming inside of her hot cunt.
He stood up and walked over to me, then untied me.
"Take care of her and get her out of here," he commanded, and then he walked into the bathroom, where he stayed until she left.
I did untie her and she started to get dressed. I could tell that she was having a lot of trouble even walking straight, and she glared at me.
"You're really sick to be with a guy like that," she said to me. "I think you're just as fucked up as he is. You'd have to be, knowing what he-likes to do, and staying with him. I hope you both die soon."
I was crying a little bit when she left because I kind of had a heart. When Roger asked me what I was crying about, and I told him, I could tell that he was angry.
"As we do more and more of them, you'll learn that it's best to keep a cold hear when it comes to dealing with them. They're all sluts anyway."
And he was to be right, though it would take me some time before I could learn to feel nothing as I watched him abusing other girls. That did not mean I would try to interfere with what he was doing to them.
I was not that stupid. I had learned my lesson that first night, and I was kind of happy that the next incident didn't occur until a few months later, when we went for a trip to the
Bahamas just to get away.
We had been back in the city for a while, and he just got bored.
Now the best thing about living in the city with him was that I had my own room, and I could come and go as I pleased. We had servants to wait on us hand and foot, so I never had to worry about being there to make his dinner.
However, when we went on vacation, the very first night, he told me to pick someone up, and that was just what I did.
Once again, I brought her back to our hotel room.
Her name was Linda, and she was a cute redhead with huge tits. I started to go down on her, and I was sucking at her pussy like it was the best fucking thing in the world. I must have made her come about seven times by the time he came into the room.
That time, he snuck in and after he knocked her out with the chloroform, he just tied her arms and legs to the bed.
He covered her eyes with a blindfold so that she couldn't see him, and before he woke her up, he told me something.
"You just watch and see what women are really like," he said. "You just watch and see the way a woman will love a cock and make a man her master just because she has the cock near her mouth, and loves it."
He started to slap her across the face, and she started to come to. I could tell that she was frightened, and who wouldn't be, being blindfolded and bound. But then, he started to move his cock near her mouth.
She stuck her tongue out and licked it gently. Then, he rammed it into her throat and was almost sitting on her face as he did it.
I could hear her gagging on his throat-invading dick.
He pulled his cock out of her mouth then and sat on her belly. I could see him starting to press her tits together, and he slid his cock back and forth between them. She was moaning really loud, as I heard him talking.
"Now tell me who the Master is," he said to her.
"God, you have such a big dick," I could hear her moaning. "I don't think that I've ever felt a dick as big as that."
"And what do you think of a dick as big as this?" he asked her.
"It could only belong to a master man," she said, and I could see the way she kept sticking her tongue out to try and lick his cock head.
I knew how much she loved that dick then, but I had to keep wondering whether she would have felt the same way had she been able to look at him. After all, his cock was the only thing he had going for him, and I sensed that if she had gotten a look at him, she would hate him.
It made no difference. He was about to come, and as he did, he let her suck the thick head of his dick between his lips. I could hear her slurping at his dick like some come hungry cunt, and he smiled at me.
"Now," he was moaning to her, "I want you to beg me to fuck you. I want to hear you begging me to give you my dick."
"Oh shit, man, I want that hot dick fucking my pussy so bad," she was moaning. "I want to feel that hot Master dick ripping me apart. I want to feel it so fucking bad that you just have to give it to me."
He looked at me again, as if to let me know that he liked this girl because she was saying just what he wanted to hear.
I said nothing, as it was not my place. My place was to stand there and watch him.
He started to slide down her body, and he untied her feet so he could push them up over her head. I saw him rubbing his dick against her cunt.
That was when she must have realized the size of the dick she was dealing with. I could kind of remember how it had been with me the first time. When he was in my mouth, I realized that he was big, but when he moved down near my cunt, the realization just really ended up slapping me across the face.
He was a fucking monster, I felt when he was in my cunt.
She started to scream as he slammed it into her, and once again, I was just grateful for the fact that it was not me he was fucking.
He did cover her mouth, and slapped her a few times, as a reminder that he was the Master and she should be loving it. But she didn't seem to be able to get into it, and in many ways, I was pretty happy.
I have fears, you see, and luckily, they've never been met.
I have fears that one day, he'll meet a girl and blindfold her, and she'll fall in love with his dick so much, that he'll love her, too. A young thing, of course, younger than me, who might even think he's handsome.
Or at least lie and let him think she does, because of all his money.
Just the fact that this redhead was hating the feeling of his cock made me know he could never have any feelings for her, and that turned me on and made my pussy pulse with pleasure. I could tell that Roger liked it when I started to play with my pussy, and he even told me to get on the bed.
As I straddled her, with one leg on each side of her body, I moved my cunt to his face.
He started to eat me so well. I could see the way he kept thrusting, and he was sucking hard at my clit, making my juices flow. Then he started to flick my clit back and forth as fast as he could, and I was coming even harder.
It was a wonderful feeling. My whole body kind of felt like it was going through the orgasm, not just my pussy, and I could tell that he looked at me with love.
For he was looking up at me, and even though I tried not to look at him for too long, because it tended to turn me off, I still stared at him a bit.
Then, as he sucked out a hot load from me, I could hear him moaning loud, and hear her groaning louder. I knew that his dick of death had to be throbbing inside of her pussy, as he was getting ready to come, and I was right.
He started to shoot off into her cunt, and he was sucking me so well while he did that. After he had come in her cunt, he pulled out of her and got off the bed.
"Get rid of her, darling," he said to me, and that time, when he disappeared and I untied her, we had some time to talk.
She couldn't believe that I could handle a man with a dick that size, and I didn't want to let the naive bitch know that I never had to. I didn't want to let her know that was her job, and not mine.
She did want to know what he looked like, and I suspected that she might try to look for us later on, but I didn't tell her. After all, I thought that although her cunt was sore, she must have had some decent memories of the fuck. Let her think some hot man had done it to her, I kept thinking.
After she left, he let me suck his cock off, which I must admit was rather nice, as he used no force, but just lay back on the bed.
I ran my tongue up and down his cock shaft, running it along the underside so that I could suck his hearty balls into my mouth, too.
He was moaning really loud as I was doing it, and I must admit that when I just concentrated on his dick, I didn't mind what I was doing at all. It was a fantastic looking shaft, so proud and thick, and I could imagine that a nice looking man was attached to it, and that turned me on.
When I was sitting on his face as I was sucking him, it was even better. Then I didn't have to look at any of his body.
As I started to flood my juices all over his face, I could hear him sucking hard and moaning loud, and a few seconds later, his dick was filling my mouth with the sweet cream from it. I just licked and sucked him dry.
Now there's only been one time that I feared a girl might really steal my husband away from me, but overall, there was nothing I could do. I just had to hope that she was playing his game, and that he would learn she was.
Her name was Sue, and she was one of the most lovely blonde's I'd ever seen in my life. Roger and I had gone off to Turkey for a visit, and he had a friend who owned this beautiful palace. He decided tha he wanted to play King, and one night we went into town, and I picked Sue up.
I took her back to our place and started to make it with her in the bed. Roger had told me that he wanted me to tie her up when I was finished, and then bring her before the King, which of course, was him.
It was very hard to get her bound, let me tell you, because she was a horny bitch, and I knew that I would have to knock her out somehow.
I kept sucking her pussy over and over again, in the hopes that she would start to come and just pass out. Finally, I had to take this log lying near the bed and hit her over the side of the head.
Then, I pulled her hands behind her back and tied them to one of the logs. I decided to shove one right between her legs, close to her pussy, because I thought my husband was going to want to fuck her, and was already a little jealous.
I tied the log to her legs, so she couldn't pull them too far apart.
Then, I led her to his court, as he liked to call it. She was already up by the time I had her standing in front of him.
He was wearing a long robe, and nothing under it. I could see the way his dick was sticking right out and forming a kind of tent.
"You have been caught playing with the Queen," he said to her. "The King can have your head for something like that."
She looked at him, and I could tell that Sue was just looking at his cock bulge, and that was really all she was interested in.
"How about if I gave the King some head," she said.
He smiled, and started to pull his robe up. Then, I saw her get on her knees, and she managed to crawl toward him, even though the log between her legs went past her knees, and her knees weren't really even touching the floor. As a matter-of-fact, I could see that the log was really pressing into her pussy.
And yet, she didn't seem to feel enough pain to make her want to pull back.
She leaned forward, causing the log to press against her cunt more, then started to slide her lips all the way down his dick.
I couldn't believe it. I had never seen anyone deep throat him without being forced to do it, but she managed to move her mouth all the way down to the base of his cock, so his balls were pressed against her chin.
I could hear her gagging around his cock, but she didn't pull back for a long time.
Then, she started to give him a blow job like I'd never seen before. Her lips worked their way up and down his shaft rapidly, and I could see the way they were even opening and closing around his cock, so that she was kind of sucking him and kissing him at the exact same time.
At times, she slid her lips down along the underside of his cock, and sucked his balls into her mouth. I heard him moan a lot when she did that, and she moaned as he was slapping her across the face with his dick.
Then, he started to ram it back into her throat, and she let out such a passion filled moan, that I knew she had to be coming.
He started to fill her mouth with his come, and I could see the look of lust in her eyes, which really started to scare me. For I could see the look of lust in his eyes, too, and I kept thinking that if he dropped me for this bitch, I was going to have to try and take him for as much as I could.
When he pulled his cock out of her mouth, I could see that there was some come on her lips, and she licked it off, seductively.
"God, you are a King," she said to him. "You have the cock of a King, and the looks of a King. You are a King through and through. I love it."
"And does the peasant bitch want the King to fuck her hot hole?"
"Shit, yes," she moaned. "I want to feel that dick ripping through me."
"You want to feel it ripping through your pussy?" he asked her, and she moaned that she wouldn't want to have it anywhere else.
I watched as he untied that log, so he could get to her cunt, and he pushed her back on his throne. Then, he pushed her legs up and slammed that dick of death right into her. Much to my surprise, she moaned loud.
"Yeah, fuck me with this pleasure pole. Fuck me blind," she was saying, and I saw him starting to do it.
He would pull his cock all the way back, so that just the head was between her cunt lips, then he would ram himself in all the way.
I thought that I could see some blood on his dick, but it turned out to be just the red blood pulsing through hs shaft, and her come all over it.
"Tell me how much you love this, cunt," he moaned to her.
"God, I could be fucked by this cock all night," she was saying. "I could have it fuck any hole I have in my body. And such a handsome King who owns this proud cock. It's the kind of cock one would expect to find on no one but the King."
When she said things like that, I saw a look on his face that kind of let me know something else was going on in his head. However, he could be a deceiving mother at times, so I didn't even know what to make of it.
I just watched until I could hear him moaning loud, and then I watched him pull his cock out of her pussy and jerk himself off.
His thick loads of white come shot onto her belly and tits, and she was moaning loud as she saw it coming out. I could hear her saying things about how much hotter he even looked when he was jerking his dick off.
And I really did think that he would drop me for her, because she kept telling him how she would like to stay with someone like him forever.
I saw him looking at her, almost as if he was thinking about it.
Now I know that I'm an attractive woman, but this young thing was at least ten years younger than I was. I had every reason to be jealous.
But at one point, he just slapped her across the face hard, then started to leave the room, telling me to let her go.
She was so surpised that he had hit her, and she tried to ask me what the fuck had gotten into him. Since I didn't know, I wasn't going to say anything, and anyway, I was happy that he'd rejected her.
It was not until much later, after I showed her out, and found him sitting in the hot tub resting, that we had a talk.
"Roger, I must admit that as hot as the scene was, I really thought that you were going to take that young girl on, and drop me."
"But Miranda, you're my wife. You should remember that always."
"Yes, but she seemed to really be impressed with you, and I thought that you were as impressed with her. That's what I got from what you did."
"You read it all wrong, dear. I could tell that cunt was saying what she wanted to say, just to make me feel good. Let's be real, dear. Any woman who says that I'm a handsome, rugged looking man, is either blind as a bat, or just an ass licker. I believe that bitch was really something of a whore."
"What makes you say that?" I asked him, sliding in beside him.
I could feel his foot touching my pussy lips under the water.
"Because she spoke like a whore. She was telling me everything that she wanted me to hear so I would like her. The way a whore says it."
"But you want to hear things like that? Isn't that the point?"
"I want to hear that I'm the Master, because that turns me on, my darling Miranda. But when the whore starts to go too far, telling me other things on her own, about how wonderful I am, then I know she's really nothing but a cheap whore."
I leaned over and kissed him on the lips, which might have been the second time in many years that I had done that.
"You don't have to worry about me ever leaving you," he said. "It's me who sometimes worries about you leaving me, you know."
I didn't know, but it sure made me happy to hear it. He did tell me then that he had married me because I was an older, mature woman, and that was the kind of woman he always wanted-to have around. As far as the tricks went, they could be real young, but nothing that my darling husband could take seriously.
We've been married now for almost twenty years, and let me tell you that beauty is only skin deep. I've really grown to love that man, and maybe I wouldn't if he wasn't abusing others, and was abusing me.
Since he's not, I don't care. I get off on watching him
So if some hot brown-haired woman might approach you some day, all you ladies out there, and she wants to make it with you, be wary. It could be me, getting you all set up for some abuse from the fabulous Roger.
If you don't like big dicks, steer clear, but if you want one that's going to rip you apart, then look for me. I know I'll be looking for you.
THE STORY OF ELSIE
I don't even know how I ever got to be the way I am now, I swear to God. You know it's like going swimming. When you first step into the ocean, it seems like it's going to be much too cold and you will never be able to plunge yourself in entirely.
But then your ankles get accustomed to the cold and then you move in farther, and your thighs-get used to it, and even start to like it, and then your pussy hits that cold and you think: No! This is as far as I'm going!
But you stand there for a while and get used to that too, and then it's your belly and your tits and your neck, and suddenly, before you know it, you're in over your head and your swimming in the stuff you thought you'd only be able to feel with your toes.
My story starts by the ocean. Last fall I was really depressed. God, I can remember. It seems so long ago. I had a crummy little job working for a television station, just doing secretarial work you know. And it used to make me so sick to see the way all these women with the really cushy jobs used to lord it over me. They really thought they were all better than me, with their big salaries and their imagine clothes and their status jobs and nice vacations, while I was just a secretary.
I wasn't even seeing anyone at the time. My last boyfriend had walked out on me and I was back living with my aunt. I can tell you I was depressed.
I was seeing a therapist at the time and she suggested I get away for a little vacation to get my spirits up. She said I needed a change and I needed new circumstances that would allow me to see myself in a new light, and like myself better.
Well, I decided to take her advice.
I picked France because I had majored in
French in college but I had never been to that country.
In a matter of weeks I had my passport and my plane ticket. I packed my bags with my aunt's help. She always knows what to wear where and she was very helpful in assisting me in buying new clothes for my trip. She wanted me to take a lot of sexy things because she was hoping I'd meet a man and get married. She wanted me to make a good catch.
I have to smile when I think of Aunt Suzy's wishes. She was a grand old lady, dead now, and though very sophisticated, she was also very naive. Naive sexually I mean. I mean, she had been married when she was young and had children and all, and I don't believe that she ever had sex with any one but her own husband. I say any man for the idea of sex with a woman was entirely out of her realm of imagination.
But it was not out of mine. I had found myself dissatisfied with the sexual attentions of men for a long time now, and I was determined, on my vacation to France, to try out the taste of a woman for a change.
Aunt Suzy saw me off at the airport and soon I was flying high over the Atlantic Ocean dreaming of all the adventures I was going to have: I had a little list of people I could call on, friends of my aunt's, who would be willing to put me up and show me around.
We landed in Paris in the early morning and I had ray bags sent to the address that had been given to me of a Monsieur Prevost. He was an art dealer friend of my aunt's and he had said I could stay with him for a while until I decided where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do.
Since it was so early in the morning, I didn't want to call on him yet, so I took a cab into mid-Paris to have a look around. The city was beautiful. The air was crispy cold and the trees were bare. The Seine was cold and gray and the streets were being swept by little men in berets. The smell of fresh coffee and pastry seemed to be coming out of every shop.
I went into a big empty cafe and tried out my French. There was a really fantastic looking girl behind the bar, and she smiled when she heard me speaking. She told me I spoke very well and asked me if I were English. I explained that I was an American and she told me my accent was really good.
She was a dyed blonde, about my height, and she wore heavy black eye make-up and she had beautiful green eyes, and such a warm friendly smile. She had fantastic boobs too. The costume she wore as a barmaid in the cafe accentuated her boobs.
She wore a tight laced bodice that pushed her boobs together and uplifted them at the same time. I could see her erect nipples beneath the heavy fabric of her bodice, in fact I couldn't help staring at them. French cafes, I learned, are very drafty and poorly heated.
"It's chilly in here," she smiled at me. She noticed of course how I was staring at her tits.
Since I had never tried to make it with a woman I didn't know any of the techniques that lesbians use to signal each other. I didn't know how to tell if this beautiful French cunt wanted me. I mean, I guess you can tell from how I'm talking about her that she really turned me on.
I was hungry to taste her boobs, to lick them and suck on the nipples, and the thought of having her naked under me was almost too much to bear. I couldn't bring myself to think of what her mound would be like. Would it be blonde too?
Well we got into a long conversation. I told her about how I was on vacation and she promised to show me around one night. I gave her the address of where I was staying and she suggested we go out that very night. I said fine.
I couldn't help but notice that when Monique, for that was my delicious blonde's name, went into the back of the cafe for a moment, a thin dark man who was the owner of the cafe made free with those very tits that I was aching to touch and lick.
I saw the man, (Monique told me later his name was Pierre), fondle her tits, sliding his hand down under the cups of her bodice to feel the naked skin. Monique seemed to be resisting him with a pouting attitude, but I saw she felt she had to let him do what he wanted because he held her job in his hands, along with her tits.
I felt the wetness between my thighs when I watched how he made free with her. I was squirming so much I thought I would pee in my pants. I don't know, Paris is really the city of love, and the very air seemed to turn me on, not to mention Monique.
Well, finally I had to go call on my aunt's friend Mr. Prevost and I was all set to meet an old fogey. I was very surprised and delighted to meet a charming and and distinguished looking man with dark hair greying at the temples and a twinkle in his eyes. He wore the most elegant, tailored, expensive suits, and yet he had the most friendly manner. He put me at my ease right away, also complimenting me on my French.
I was afraid he would be hurt when I told him I had already made a friend and we were going out tonight. But he was very ' understanding and said he understood. But he made me promise that I would allow him to take me out the following night, and I didn't mind promising. I was sure to learn a lot about French culture from him, I thought.
Monique came to call on me that night at Mr. Prevost's mansion. I saw mansion although it was really like a city townhouse. She whistled when she saw the huge iron grillwork of the gate leading to the house and the parquet floors and chandeliers of the entrance way. Mr. Prevost even had a butler and Monique and I giggled about him as we walked down the front steps.
"If there's ever a murder in that house, you'll know the butler did it," said Monique in her adorable English.
"Monique," I said, feeling very bold and uninhibited in this foreign land where I had no history and no family, "are you the lover of the owner of the cafe where you work?"
I saw her green eyes go cloudy at my question.
"I couldn't help but notice how he touched you very freely when you went back behind the bar. I hope you don't mind my asking." I was holding her arm now as we crossed the busy street. Night was falling and it was cold. I was happy just to hold her arm.
Monique was silent for a moment. "I can't tell you," she said finally.
She took me to the Champs Elysee and the Cafe des Deux Magots. We saw all the glittering palaces on both sides of the Seine. But all this time she hardly spoke.
I was hardly interested in the scenery because my arm kept scraping by her boobs and all I wanted to do was find a room with a bed somewhere and go down on her.
"Where do you live?" I asked her.
"I live with Pierre, not far from here."
"So he is your lover," I said, naively.
"Sort of," she said. "He asked me to invite you home with me."
"You mean, all three of us. . . ? " I said. If this is Paris, I was thinking, let me do it all.
"Oui," she nodded.
"Okay, let's go," I said.
We arrived at a little hotel on the left bank. We went up three flights of stairs and Monique opened a door at the top of the stairs.
We went in. I found myself in a nicely furnished room, with leather arm chairs and a huge marble-topped coffee table. There was also a huge fireplace in which burned a log and candles were lit on top of the fireplace. But there was no one in the room.
"Excuse me," Monique said. "I have to go and tell Pierre that we're here."
She left me alone in the room. From another room somewhere I thought I heard music playing. It sounded like a symphony by Beethoven, something harsh and military.
A door opened and in stepped the thin dark-haired man I had seen earlier that day at the cafe.
"How do you do," he said introducing himself. He seemed much friendlier.
"Did Monique tell you what her relationship is to me?"he asked.
"No," I said casually, but I found my heart was pounding with excitement. "I mean, I assume you two are lovers," I said.
"No," he said quietly. "She is my slave."
"Your. . . ? " I had heard of such things but I never thought that I would run into this kind of thing myself.
"Yes. She brought you here to me because I was very attracted to you. Of course, Monique is attracted to you too, but that is a secondary matter of little importance. Would you like to spend the evening with us, and see how we take our pleasure?"
"Yes," I said, fascinated, if a little frightened. I couldn't believe anything bad could really happen because these people seemed to be so polite and civilized. And so that was how I had my first introduction to slavery.
Pierre rang a little silver bell on the coffee table and Monique came back into the room except now she was no longer wearing the jeans and T-shirt she had on earlier. Now she was wearing a leather sort of body suit with cut-outs for her tits and at the crotch. Her tits stuck out through the leather and her cunt hair hung out at the crotch. I was gratified to see that her cunt hair too was dyed the same raunchy blonde as the hair on her head, and like the hair on her head, her cunt hair had black roots showing.
Pierre, I now realized, was dressed all in leather himself. He wore tight leather pants of black and a black leather vest. Though he was not very tall, like most Frenchman, I realized with a start that he had one man-sized erection pushing out against his skin-tight pants.
"I want to make love to you," he said to me. "Why don't you make yourself more comfortable. Monique will put on a little show for us, to relax and amuse us."
I seated myself on the couch. It was warm near the fire so I took off my heavy turtle-neck sweater. I was wearing tight jeans and I left them on but I put my feet up on the couch-well he said to make himself at home, and I started to rub my clit which I could feel throbbing against the crotch of my pants.
Pierre came over and sat down beside me. He slipped his hand between the wire cups of my black bra and my flesh and started kneading my tits with his hands.
I liked the way he did this while Monique began to do things that really turned me on!
She set up on the coffee table a contraption the-likes of which I had never seen before. It was sort of a seat with leather straps attached to it. Once she had herself in it, she tied her own legs in, and then Pierre went over to tie her arms down.
All the while Monique was not looking at me. She kept looking down as if she were ashamed and her dirty blonde hair feel across her blackened eyes. Her tits hung down over the tight encompassing leather.
There was a sort of crank on the machine she was now strapped into, and I realized that its purpose was to move a dildo back and forth. Monique's legs were strapped wide apart and from where I was sitting I could see how her thighs were pulled wide apart so that her cunt was forced open. Her cunt looked so tempting, the flesh wet and straining. That night it didn't even occur to me how strange it was that I was getting turned on by the sight on this girl in bondage. It wasn't until later that I realized I was getting into a weird trip. It's like getting into the cold ocean water, as I said earlier, remember?
"Turn the crank, Monique," said Pierre quietly.
Though her hands were tied, the crank was right below her hands and she could turn it. She was turning it so that she herself was administering the movement of the giant dildo into herself.
The dildo, pointing right at her open exposed cunt, was made of leather too, and it was a giant prong, about eleven inches long. It looked very hard, much harder than a flesh and blood cock, and I didn't envy her the task of cranking it into herself, but I loved watching her do it.
You could see how humiliated she was, but I loved it. I can't explain it, but when Pierre unzipped my pants and reached for my cunt with his fingers, I was sopping wet.
I kept my eyes on Monique the whole time Pierre and I fucked. I watched the leather dildo get closer and closer to her pussy, and as it got closer I saw how her head sank lower and lower on her chest. Her tits heaved with her unhappy sighs and she avoided my eyes the whole time. As she cranked and the dildo got closer, the crank simultaneously pulled her thighs farther apart, and when the cock started to go in, I could see she was in great pain from the stretching apart of her thighs.
But I could see the stretching apart of her thighs was necessary because it also pulled her pussy lips wide open and that was the best part, to see that huge leather cock start to penetrate into that stretched apart wet cunt. For she was wet.
Pierre caught me staring at her once, as he sank his cock into me. "Don't worry," he said. "Can't you see how much she loves doing it to herself? Look how wet she is."
And I had to agree because I could see how the leather dildo gleamed as it passed between her cunt lips and became covered with her cunt juice.
Well, I got fucked by Pierre that night, but it was really Monique and the trip she was into that turned me on and brought me off. And though I really enjoyed the experience and felt my French fling was getting off to a fine start, I still looked forward to the first time when I would have some pussy to myself.
Well, I only stayed in Paris a week. I spent a few more sessions with Pierre and Monique, but Pierre never let me have Monique. He was very jealous about his slave and he made love to me while she was forced to do things to herself. That seemed to turn him on, especially knowing she was attracted to me and dying to have me.
I spent some enjoyable evenings with Mr. Prevost, my host too. He took me to all the best plays and restaurants in town and introduced me to many of his friends. I was starting to feel very sophisticated, and I was getting a whole new image of myself, just as my therapist had said I would.
Mr. Prevost never once touched me but I could see that he thought I was a looker. I couldn't tell if he was gay or what,.
When I came down with a terrible cold I became miserable again. I couldn't go out, I couldn't see anyone for fear of the contagion I would spread, and suddenly Paris just seemed like a dirty cold old prison.
I decided I wanted to see warmer climes. Mr. Prevost suggested I go down to the Riviera. It was warmer and he had a charming friend he said I could stay with, a woman by the name of Madame Lenore Renais. I met her sister one night before I left for Nice, and I must say she certainly was part of the inducement to go on to Nice.
Madame Lenore's sister was a beautiful woman a little older than myself. Her name was Fifi and she had shoulder-length dark hair. She had a widow's peak that for some reason I found very attractive and she had big round green eyes, like Monique's.
Well, by this time, I guess I was a little less naive sexually because I could tell she was coming on to me. Mr. Prevost and Fifi and I went out to dinner together, and Fifi rubbed my thigh under the table and her finger was even creeping up my new red dress to my thatch!
I was so excited I could hardly eat, and Mr. Prevost wanted to know what was going on. Did I feel feverish again?
Well, to make a long story short, I didn't get a chance to make it with Fifi in Paris, but she promised me she was coming down to Nice herself. She said her older sister would be really pleased to see me. She said her older sister Lenore would like me as much as she, Fifi, did.
I took a train down to Nice and arrived in the warm pleasure town feeling better already. My head had cleared up and I could feel my fever subsiding. I was met by a maid in a cab who said Madame Lenore had sent her to pick me up. The cabman put my valises in the trunk and we took off. I got my first view of the beautiful turquoise Mediterranean Sea that afternoon as our cab climbed the hills of Nice to Madame Lenore's villa.
The car pulled into a driveway of a beautiful spacious spread. There were vast gardens around the sides of the house, and in back too, the maid told me. There were all these strange tropical cactus and weird tropical flowers and fruits and palm trees. The house was entirely surrounded by a high gray wall and I noticed that on top of the wall, all the way around the house, there were pieces of glass embedded into the cement.
"Madame Lenore is afraid of intruders," the maid said when she caught me staring at the glass on top of the wall. "It is a Provencal custom too," she added.
I met Madame Lenore at lunch that day.
I must say I was disappointed. I would have said that she was Fifi's mother, rather than her older sister.
Madame Lenore had a mean face that sort of resembled a prune. She reminded me of the wicked hags in the Walt Disney animated movies that had terrified me as a child. I did notice that she had a beautiful and youthful body, from what I could see beneath the flowing robe she wore.
She wore her hair, which was dark like her sister's, in a severe bun on top of her head.
Lunch was very formal and I was constantly afraid of picking up the wrong fork for the salad, or spilling my wine, and proving myself an uncivilized fool.
Laura, the maid, served us, and we sat at opposite ends of a long mahogany table, though there were only two of there for lunch. From the dining room I could see the vast labyrinthine gardens out back.
"I am pleased with you," Madame Lenore said to me in her deep, manly voice.
"Thank you very much for your hospitality in letting me stay with you," I said.
Madame Lenore said, "My little sister Fifi told me how pretty you are, and I must say she was not mistaken."
I have to admit I blushed, because the thought of Fifi complimenting me made me get wet. And if I do say so myself, I'm not bad looking. I have shoulder-length brown hair that is perhaps not spectacular, but I have nice hefty round tits and a good figure, big hips and a big firm ass.
"Please have some more wine," Madame Lenore insisted with a warm smile.
"I-I don't know. I'm getting so drowsy."
"Please, it is the custom in the south to drink wine and eat a big meal at mid-day. After that you take a nap. Life resumes in the evening," she said.
Who was I to resist. I was already intoxicated by the beauty of this palatial house and the gardens out back and the glimpse of the exotic sea. I drank more and more of the warm tangy wine.
I must have fallen asleep at the table. I was dimly aware of being carried to another room. Then I can recall being handled by a couple of pairs of hands. But that's about all I can distinctly remember.
When I awoke I found myself in a very stark room, lying on a bare wooden floor, in a very uncomfortable position. In fact, I woke up in great pain. My arms were practically forced out of their sockets and I felt a wooden piece behind me that I realized my arms were locked into. It was sort of like the stocks you learn about when you study the Pilgrims in early America. Except there were chains attached to the wooden stock behind me.
One chain held my neck close to the wood. Another was attached to a giant metal belt that clasped my waist so tight I could hardly breathe.
I tried to roll over on the floor, thinking if I lay on my stomach and got the weight off my arms, the pain would be relieved, but then I found that my legs were in manacles too. At the ankles. I was totally enslaved by these cruel bonds.
The room was dim and it took a long while for my eyes to adjust to the light after the bright sunshine of the morning.
But as my eyes adjusted to the light I began to perceive the outline of a strange chair at one end of the room. It looked like sort of a modern throne, very stark and black and imposing-looking.
And then I realized with a start that someone was sitting in the chair in the shadows.
I saw a woman's naked body facing me, and I realized it was Madame Lenore, but now her purple robe was open and I was looking directly at her naked body. I couldn't help staring fascinated at her boobs, which were like lovely long melons. She had long erect nipples. Her legs were spread wide,apart so I could see her cunt too. I looked at the wet slit.
I could feel her eyes upon me. She realized I was awake.
"Elsie," she said. "Look upon me. Know that my name is Madame Lenore."
I saw that she had adorned her neat bun with a crown of sorts or a tiara.
She was transformed from the severe schoolmarm type of earlier into a cruel looking snow queen.
"Fifi sent you to me because she saw that you had great slave potential. And she learned from your host in Paris, my good friend, Mr. Prevost, that you spent many evenings in Paris in the company of a man and his female slave. Fifi also told me that you wanted to eat pussy.
Madame Lenore spread her knees open wider as if to taunt me, but the expression on her face remained cold. She wore little black button-up boots with short nylon socks.
I started to laugh. "Hey what is this? You can't do this to me. I'm telling you, I'm an American citizen!"
Madame Lenore reached for something on the seat beside her and suddenly a long black leather lash was flying through the air at me where I lay. I felt Madame Lenore's whip lash for the first time across my abdomen. I jumped when it landed on me and then I felt the pain of the iron belt I wore as it rubbed across the first wound she inflicted on me.
"You have much to learn as a slave," she said with a wry ugly smile.
She withdrew the whip and launched it through the air again. This time she sent it to me so that it wound around my neck,, and was choking me. Then with the lasso around my neck she pulled me up to her across the bare wooden floor. I scraped my knees and elbows and tits. She pulled me up to her so that my head was held hanging between her knees, and I was staring right into her cunt. Even though she had not once reached down to touch or stimulate herself, I could see her cunt was dripping wet.
"As a slave, your job is very simple. You are simply to do exactly as I say. Do nothing else, but what I say, and you will occasionally be rewarded. Don't forget, Fifi is coming," she almost smiled.
"Now take your first taste of cunt," she advised. And grabbing me by the hair she roughly shoved my face right smack against her cunt. I could hardly breathe as she shoved my face into her pussy thatch and my nose and mouth were both sunk in her wet cunt meat so I was really afraid I would suffocate.
All I could smell was the exotic odor of pussy, which I had never really smelled before, except what I had smelled of my own pussy.
She was whipping my arms as they rubbed in the wooden stock.
"Lick me, cunt! Lick me!" she was screeching. She really sounded like a sick witch in a horror movie, but I had no choice. She was in control and the pain of my wrenched and twisted elbows, which were being inflicted with stripes by her whip, motivated rrie to do the best I could on her cunt.
But strangely enough, I could feel, as my boobs scraped across her thighs, that my nipples were standing up straight and that my cunt was dripping too.
I couldn't help it but the taste and smell of my first pussy was turning me on in spite of myself.
I sank my tongue deep into this hag's pussy and it was delicious to taste her fragrant cunt. I ran my tongue over her engorged clit and felt how her whole body shivered at the touch of my tongue. I realized that, in a strange way, it was I who had power over her.
I beat my tongue across her clit really fast, as if I were sort of whipping it, and then occasionally I would stop doing that to stick my tongue deep into her pussy cavity.
I could tell she was enjoying it because the whip, still in her hand, had fallen useless to the side, and she had raised her legs and draped them over the arms of the chair. She still held a fistful of my hair in her hand, and by this way, and by the lash still wrapped tightly around my neck, she kept my head where she wanted it, sunk into her crotch, for what seemed like hours.
I ate her out until my jaw ached. I don't know how many times I felt her shiver and come. She was moaning and sighing too and I thought that surely she would think I had been a good slave and serviced her well.
It occurred to me that I would be able to service her even better if my hands were free to play with her cunt and boobs, and I thought I would mention this to her later when she complimented me on my first performance.
My mouth was dripping with her pussy juice when she finally pushed my head away. She lazily lifted one leg and gave me a kick with her high-heeled boot that sent me sprawling over-backwards, causing a terrible shooting pain to run through my entire body. The wooden stock was really wrenching me as I feel and the chains, grinding over the whip wounds, caused me to scream out in pain.
"Slave of my cunt," she said in her queenly voice, "you have now spent your first session learning the duty you are to perform for the rest of your life. You will spend the rest of your life perfecting yourself as a being devoted entirely to one task: pleasuring my cunt. Now lie here and reflect on your performance, and think how you can improve it. I want to be pleasured in a new and different way every time. If you fail to interest me, if you begin to bore, beware the consequences."
And Madame Lenore rose and left.
I couldn't believe this was really happening to me. She had to be joking about the part about remaining here for the rest of my life, I thought. I mean, nobody could do that to another human being. You couldn't take a slave, not today, in 1979, could you?
My shoulders felt as if they had been wrenched out of their sockets and I realized she had made no mention of releasing me. How long was she going to leave me in this state, without medical care. I had bleeding wounds that needed attention, and the iron rubbing on top of them was not helping. The least of my problems was the fact that my jaw and tongue were so sore and swollen from what must have been at least two hours of eating out her pussy. Quite a long stint for the first time.
But most unnerving of all was the fact that my own cunt was absolutely on fire. I had endured all this pain and humiliation, and performed an incredible sexual feat for someone else, without having received one ounce of sexual pleasure myself. My pussy burned to have someone do to me what I had just done to Madame Lenore.
I believe I passed out again from the anguish of my torn limbs, because I don't remember a single thing until I woke up in a different room.
There was a big hot Jacusi pool in the middle of this steamy tiled room, and one whole wall was made of windows, looking out on the exotic plants of Madame Lenore's extensive gardens.
The whole room was slippery with steamy heat.
I myself was standing when I awoke. I knew that I had been lying down previously, and I think I must have slept for a while in a bed, and my cuts had been tended to because they ached with the pain of some kind of healing ointment.
But now I was chained to a wall, my arms and legs spread wide apart, as if I were to be crucified. I was totally naked.
I saw Madame Lenore walking past the windows outside. She was in a robe of a different color now, a bright red velvet one, but as before I could see she was naked underneath. She wore the tiara as before too, but this time she had on tall black leather boots that came to her mid-thigh.
I was able to look at her more reflectively this time. I noticed how her body was like that of a beautiful mature woman. Her boobs were firm and the flesh was soft and warm, I recalled. I watched her bending over to smell the fragrance of one of her exotic flowers, and saw that she was being followed by two cats, huge tiger-striped pussies, both male, I noticed.
At that moment, Madame Lenore turned and looked at me. Noticing I was awake, she turned away and I saw her bend and pick the leaves of a plant. I saw her crushing these leaves in her hand.
I noticed that the cats seemed to be going crazy. They were rubbing up against the plant and rubbing up against Madame Lenore's legs, and mewling like toms in heat.
She drew back the huge sliding glass door and stepped into the pool. Slowly she walked over to where I was chained.
"So, my little slave is ready for her second session," she said humorlessly.
"Madame Lenore, please, . . , " I began.
"Shut up," she said. "Did I give you permission to talk?"
In a moment she had my mouth stuffed with an apple from her garden. She tied a leather strap around the apple in my mouth so my mouth was forced wide open.
Then she pulled out of her pocket a leather belt which she ran around my waist. There were straps that hung down from the waist which she tied around my thighs. The straps around my thighs pulled my cunt open. I remembered the contraption that I had seen Monique voluntarily climb into at Pierre's command in Paris.
Madame Lenore stood back to look at me, but evidently she was not satisfied.
She pulled the leather straps at my thighs tighter, and then from the voluminous pockets of her hateful robe she pulled out a sort of clamp.
My eyes widened with fear when I saw that frightening-looking piece of steel. It had been polished so that it was shiny bright.
"You have very beautiful eyes, my dear, so green and bright," she said leaning over to whisper in my ear. I felt her tongue slip into my ear and she was plunging her active tongue into my ear-hole as if it were my cunt. I don't know why, but the action of her tongue actually made me get wet in my cunt. The tickling in my ear was triggering a wetness in my pussy.
But suddenly it seemed she had had enough of that for she backed off and bent down. Now she was attaching the clamp to my pussy. One clip went on one side of my pussy lips and the other clip went on the other side of my pussy lips and a spring in the middle pushed my pussy lips wide apart.
I screamed in pain but my screams were all muffled by the apple in my mouth.
She put her hand to my pussy and I thought she was starting to wiggle my clit, which, all the torture aside, was dying to be plucked and touched. But if she wiggled her finger on my clit, it was only be accident, or to tease, because I realized what she was really, doing was rubbing the sap of the leaves she had picked in the garden into my cunt.
There I was chained to the wall, my pussy clamped open, and the cats began to smell the odor of what must have been catnip stuck up my cunt.
Madame Lenore stepped back to survey her work, and for the first time I saw her smile with satisfaction.
I could hardly believe all the sensations I was experiencing. My body was drenched with sweat. It rolled up the top slopes of my tits, and then peaked in drops over my erect nipples, and then the sweat ran down the undersides of my big mounds, down my belly. I could even feel the sweat running in rivulets through my pussy thatch.
The two male cats were sniffing at my toes.
I wriggled and tried to wrench myself off the wall, but to no avail. My manacles held me tight and my efforts only reopened the sores I had gotten earlier on my wrists and ankles.
The cats were starting to go wild. They had to jump up to get to the source of the smell they loved to smell, and they were using my legs and thighs like scratching posts as they clawed their way to my pussy.
I screamed with terror as these two male animals jumped to put their heads into my cunt. Often they hit their heads against the pussy clamp which caused me unbearable pain. They were trying to stick their tongues into my catnip pussy, I think, but often as not it was their teeth and claws that found my soft sore exposed vulnerable sex. My vulva was on fire, with the stimulation it was finally getting which was, unfortunately, not exactly what it had had in mind.
And yet, through the pain, I could feel the wetness pouring out of my cunt. The human bodyand its organs are curious. We are capable of experiencing many sensations at once, over which we actually have very little control. And so, though on the surface, my entire body was in agony and my tits and nipples and clit were distended in fear as much as in pain, I also was aware that my pussy and clit were being sexually stimulated and that indeed I was approaching climax.
My eyes had been glued all this time to the tawny bodies of the green-eyed cats as they propelled their lithe forms up my thighs to my cunt. But suddenly it occurred to me that I should be aware of where Madame Lenore was and what she was doing. I recalled her words about how I should be devoted to her pleasure, and whether the treatment I was now getting was reward or punishment, I wanted to be sure she "knew I had not forgotten her.
I saw her robe lying by the side of the Jacuzi pool. Then I saw her. She was naked, her boots too had come off, but she seemed to be suspended above the swirling water of the pool. I realized that there was some sort of phallic pole in the middle of the pool, and she was pleasuring herself on it, riding the pole up and down into her cunt as she watched my terror and sexual pain. The steamy waters of the pool soothed her own thighs while she slid on the pool.
I saw too, that, though she was watching me intently, her lids were narrowly closed on her eyes and she was smiling the smile of ecstatic sexual pleasure. Her labia glistened and gleamed red around the circumference of the gleaming phallus.
The cats had licked out all the catnip and so they lost interest in me. It was nothing personal.
They slunk off into the garden again and Madame Lenore was no longer on her pole, I saw, the next time I opened my eyes. I had drifted off into the unconscious sleep that is God's gift to those in pain.
But when I opened my eyes again, I found a woman, nude, kneeling between my thighs. It took a moment before I recognized the maid who had picked me up at the station. She was pushing the clips that held my pussy lips wide apart so that she could get to my clit with her tongue.
One of her hands worked her own clit between her open thighs as she did a tap dance on my poor distended clit with her lovely pointed tongue.
This was my first time of being eaten by a woman, and I must say she brought me to impossible heights of pleasure. Though the pussylip clamps were causing me incredible pain, the beating of her tongue against my clit caused" equal, if not greater pleasure, and behind the apple forced in my mouth, I groaned out my first love moans of lesbian love.
I lost all track of time. I had no idea how long it had been since I had arrived at Madame Lenore's from Paris. Was it days? Weeks? Months?
I became totally enslaved to Madame Lenore. Each time I woke from one of the strange drugged sleeps she allowed me, I never knew where I would find myself. There were so many rooms in her house, and so many strange tortures, such as I had never been able to conceive of myself.
One day (I saw sun streaming in through a crack in the black curtains of what had become "my room") I awoke tied to my bed as usual. It seemed to me I sensed a kind of frenzy and scurrying throughout the house. I wondered what was up.
I soon found out, from the whispered words of servants I heard scurrying past my door. "Fifi. . . , " they were saying. Fifi had come!
I don't know why my heart took a leap of hope. I guess I was expecting that in Fifi I would find a friend and ally, someone who would help me. escape.
The maid came in and washed me very carefully all over. She poured exotic fragrant oils on me and washed and combed my hair so that it was shiny clean. I felt as if I were being prepared for some kind of sacrifice. I was to be the sacrificial lamb!
I was firmly tied and bound in a sitting position by two maid servants, and then I was placed on a cot and carried through the halls of the house on the shoulders of the two naked maids.
I was brought into a room I had never been in before. A rounded archway opened into a vast hall. It almost looked like a room in a museum where strange sculptures of metal and nuts and bolts and screws were being displayed. Ranged all around the room where curious contraptions mounted on black boxes.
I saw that there was also a huge sunken bed. It was round and covered with red velvet and I saw that two women were making love, or rather one young beauty whose buttocks I saw moving up and down in the air, was eating out the pussy of Madame Lenore who lay stretched back in ecstasy.
The women seemed not to notice that the maid servants had brought me in. They untied me now but only in preparation for the device which they preceded to install me on top of.
I can hardly describe even now, without feeling the tentacles of fear tighten all over my body.
My. ankles were manacled into the sides of the box, and my arms were bound back on themselves. My fists were enclosed in fingerless leather mittens so that I felt like an amputee, without hands. But that was just the beginning.
I noticed that the two women were watching now, as Fifi, for that was who it was of course, continued to stick her fingers languidly up Lenore's cunt. They watched the maid servants stretch my nipples until they were taut and erect, and then they squeezed little iron rings that contracted around my nipples. These were tied to a bar, and my breasts were strained and stretched. Meanwhile a large dildo was forced into my mouth.
And at my pussy, exposed as my legs were manacled wide apart, a belt was strapped through my thighs. The belt had a sort of bear trap, like jaws in it which held the pussy open, and a funnel covered these cruel jaws. Then a painfully large dildo head was attached to the top of an iron pole.
I saw the maids testing out the various parts of this cruel machine. I saw how the iron pole aimed at my held-apart pussy, went up and down, and how the huge dildo in my mouth went in and out, all at the control of various cranks on the machine.
When the maids were satisfied that everything was in working order, they turned and bowed toward the queen on the bed. Madame Lenore waved them away with one motion of her hand, and they left the three of us alone in there.
"Fifi, my darling sister, I cannot tell you how pleased I am with the new slave you picked out for me. Darling, your taste is as good as ever. I don't know how you do it, but you always find a type who will please me."
"Has she been a good slave, Lennie?" I saw my beloved Fifi ask. I looked at Fifi's bulging tits. I began to cry, not only because of the pain of the iron rings pulling my breasts down, but because I knew that the hard swollen nipples on the ends of Fifi's breasts were caused by the excitement she had felt in eating ouout her sister.
Fifi had never wanted me as a lover for herself at all! I realized. Tears of humiliation were mixed with tears of pain.
"But look, she is crying," said Fifi coming over closer to examine me. I could smell her sex as she walked around me and surveyed my enslaved body. Her body moved with a litheness and a sexual ease that was so beautiful and exciting.
I felt my cunt grow wet just from watching the flesh of this voluptuous woman I could not have.
"Yes, sometimes she cries. And sometimes she is disobedient and I have to discipline her. And I still have not been able to bring her to admit that she loves being my slave and that she has never been so sexually turned on in her life. I was hoping that you could help me in that area, Fifi. You're so much more convincing than I am sometimes."
Madame Lenore stretched and writhed in her nudity on her velvet bed. Her green eyes had little points in them as she watched her younger sister circle me. I coulnd't stop the flow of tears from my eyes.
"Well, I'll see what I can do," said my Fifi.
"Do you like what we do to you?" Fifi asked me. Her voice was as light and innocent as a child's.
Even if I had wanted to answer, it was impossible for my head was held still in an iron clamp and my mouth was full of the large dildo, so that no sound could escape.
I couldn't even gesture with my bound hands.
"I'll tell you what," Fifi said in a friendly way. She even patted me on the shoulder, "I'll let you have as much of the dildo as you want. If you like it and if you like how it feels, you just let your pussy juice run down all over the dildo and we'll consider the question answered. Okay?"
Fifi turned her head to her sister. "Do you think .that's being too easy on her?" she asked. I could see how Fifi needed her sister's approval to bolster her confidence in herself and her own ideas.
"I think that sounds fair to me," Madame Lenore said. "She comes like a cunt every time," Madame Lenore confided.
Fifi kneeled to one side of me and she placed her hand on my buttock. She pinched me once and smiled and laughed to see me wince. "Oh come on, now," she said, "surely that doesn't hurt?"
First she wound the dildo at my mouth in farther, so that I had to concentrate on keeping my throat muscles loose and my throat passage wide open. She really cranked it deep into me, the cunt! She watched me carefully as she screwed the cock into my mouth, with her lips slightly parted, screwing it in until I gagged, at which point she stopped and waited until I adjust my throat to the indignity, whereupon she screwed it in even farther, stopping again when I gagged, and so on.
When I had all but one last inch of the dildo down my throat, she seemed satisfied and left off the dildo at my mouth to turn her attention to the one at my cunt.
I noticed that Madame Lenore had her fingers up her own cunt and was masturbating furiously on the round bed.
My nipples were on fire from the striking pain of the ropes that pulled on the rings.
But I hadn't even begun to suffer the final indignity of the cunt dildo.
Fifi licked her lips as she began to turn the crank that pushed the cock head up toward the tunnel that held my pussy wide open. My pussy lips were stretched to their utmost and I prepared myself for pain greater than any I had experienced so far.
I could see that Fifi's thighs had become shining wet with her inner moistness which was seeping out as she cranked the cock up to my cock-hole.
The bulbous head of the cock disappeared into the tunnel and then I felt the dildo splitting apart my cunt.
And then I began to come, over and over again, as they laughed, and I knew that now I really was their slave.
THE STORY OF ANGELA
You have to do sordid things when you are a beginning actress. I mean, even Marilyn, and Suzanne have porno roles behind them. Mine was just a little more heavy.
I always wanted to be an actress. When I was a little girl, I used to go into my mother's room, and try on her evening dresses, and her make up. She got really mad at me when I would make a mess of her lipstick. But, she couldn't stop me from doing it. It was like an obsession for me. Finally, she went and got me my own make up. I was only six years old, but I already had a box filled with lipstick and eye shadow.
The condition was that I was not allowed to wear it outside of the house. And, of course, my mother only got me hypoallergenic stuff, that wouldn't harm me, even if I swallowed it. She wouldn't give me mascara, either, as she was afraid I would poke my eye out with the brush.
She had to pay a lot for the special make up, but I didn't ask for a lot of other toys, and it would be my Christmas presents. So, I learned the joys of cosmetics quite young.
My mother was a good-looking woman, and she and my father led a pretty active social life. She had quite a number of imagine dresses, and as soon as she had worn them too much, she would give them to me. Since I was a girl, she didn't get too upset at my fascination with drag.
I got to be quite proficient in getting myself to look glamorous. My mother still thought there was something a little odd about it, so she didn't encourage me, but once and a while, at a party that they were giving, she would let me come downstairs, and pretend I was one of the beautiful ladies there.
My father got a big kick out of it. He thought I looked very pretty. And, I always was a beauty, if I may say so myself. If you've got it, flaunt it.
If we had lived near a media center, and if my mother was the type to exploit her children, maybe I could have been a child star. Everybody said I was a great little actress, and so pretty.
I was very photogenic, too. I like to look at the pictures that my uncle took of me when I was seven. For once, my mother let me get photographed in make up. I look so sweet. It's strangely decadent, such innocence, and such glamour.
But, my mother was very firm about making me into a normal, Midwestern girl. I was to go outside and be a tomboy. She would not stand for a lot of nonsense about ladies, and glamour. But, she really couldn't control me. Everyone tells me that I was irresistible, so even my strict mother had to give in to my whims.
I had two younger brothers. I would make them join me in my theatrical productions, but they were usually much more interested in going out fishing. We lived near the Missouri, and they were regular Huck Finns. What I was, nobody knew.
All I had was beauty and acting talent. I had absolutely no talent in singing or dancing. So, I wasn't Shirley Temple. Indeed, I saw her movies on television, and I thought she was much too babyish. Perhaps it's just as well that my mother wasn't a stage mother, for if she had pushed me into singing and dancing lessons, and auditions, I would have really suffered a loss of confidence.
But, she just let me develop on my own. I got no more practice at acting than what I could work up for myself. As I got older, I got myself into all the local amateur productions. I also did everything I could in the school plays. Pretty soon, people were calling me an actress.
So, I was recognized in my small town. I was also known as one of the town beauties. I had boys flocking to my front porch since I was thirteen. But, again, my mother's strictness intervened, and I wasn't allowed to go on dates until I was fifteen, and no night time dates until I was seventeen.
I had some steady beaux by then, but I hadn't really been in love. That is, not in love with a local boy. My heart throb was Lawrence Olivier. I saw "Wuthering Heights", and that was that. It didn't even matter to me when I found out he was already past sixty. I had my celluloid dreams.
There were other actors that I wouldn't have minded. I liked Olivier best, but other than that I tended to like the young, American types like early Brando, and James Dean. I liked De Niro, too, as soon as I saw "Mean Streets".
Well, I went through high school, playing lead in the usual productions of "Arsenic and Old Lace", "The Importance of Being Ernest", and "Our Town".
After I graduated, I spent a year in the nearest summer stock. That was my first taste of professional theater. I was taken on as the young girl. I got all the stupid, pretty parts.
I didn't mind. I intended to make it on my beauty, then stun everybody with my talent. After that summer, I was no longer a virgin.
It was the typical, "Marjorie Morningstar" story. I fell for the seemingly sophisticated assistant director. He's quite willing to fuck the young beauty, and get his ego fed in the process. Then, at the end of the summer, it's heartbreak.
After that summer, I decided that time had come to try for that big golden ring. I was going to go to Hollywood. My mother was against it, but my father was encouraging. He added an equivalent amount to my savings, and I had enough to live for a few months in a cheap furnished room.
My mother finally agreed to give me her blessings, but only on the condition that I searched for a regular job as soon as I got there. She didn't want me starving to death because I couldn't get a regular acting job. I said yes to her, but I was so naive, that I thought my beauty would bowl them all over, and I'd have a starring role right away.
I had gotten good reviews from my summer theater-in-the-round work. They had said that I was not only a beauty, but a talent. I cut out all of my reviews, and kept them in my scrap book. I had no doubt that I would soon have the pages overflowing with good reviews.
I took the bus out to Los Angeles in order to save money. It took three days. I didn't mind the travel so much, though. I had never been more than fifty miles from the town where I was born. I was really interested in seeing the rest of the country. So, I spent most of the trip looking out the window.
The first day was really boring. It was all flat farmlands. The people on the bus were all just like the people back home, too.
The secondday, it got interesting. We started to see some mountains. They were really beautiful. They looked just like in the Western movies.
Finally, we got to California. I felt just like singing, if I didn't have a terrible voice. Then, we were there. Los Angeles. L. A. It was the place of my dreams.
I was a little disappointed to find the skies to be really gray and dull. There was also no life in the streets. I just went to the little room that my mother alid had her friend find for me. I found I was really tired, so I had to just shower, and sleep.
I didn't wake up until the next morning. The woman who I was boarding with was rather old, and very stuffy. She liked that fact that I was from the Midwest, but she didn't like the fact that I was an actress. However, my mother's friend had given her a lot of assurances, so she felt good enough about me.
The first thing I did that day was go out to Hollywood and Vine. I waited and waited for a bus, but none came. Finally, I just splurged on a cab. I asked the cab driver why the bus hadn't come, and he laughed at me. He said, "Sister, everybody drives around here, where are you from?" .
I told him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He said, "I suppose you come, out here to be a movie star?"
I said, "I want to be an actress."
He laughed. He said, "You're real pretty, but that won't get you farther than the casting couch."
I didn't understand what he meant. Then, he said, "say, I could arrange a job for you, if you like. It's only with the highest class clients. You'll be doing it anyway, so you might as well get some money out of it. You'll need money if you want to buy a car."
I said, "What kind of jobs?"
He said, "You know, turning tricks. A little work on your back."
I was beginning to see what he meant. I wasn't all that naive. I said, "You can let me out of the car right now!"
He said, "Relax, relax, sister. Nobody's gonna make you do anything you don't wanna. But, just remember, you'll come down to it sooner or later."
I said nothing. I wanted to say nothing to such a dirty man. We were soon at Hollywood and Vine. As I got out, the cab driver said, "Take a good look around, sister. Then, think about what I said."
He drove off. He was laughing. I walked down the street. I looked around. At first I was dazzled at how good looking everybody was. There really are a lot of blondes, and good tans, and good bodies in Southern California.
I began to doubt my own beauty. I couldn't really say that I was any better looking than all the girls I saw around me. So, I was blonde, and I had a nice figure, and pretty features.
Lots of girls as good looking as me were walking all around. And, they seemed to know how to make up and dress better than me, too.
In fact, I was a little shocked at how skimpily some of the girls dressed. And, they all wore really high heels.
Then, I began to notice what was going on in the street. A lot of cars would stop, really nice, big cars, and the girls would crowd around it. Then, one or two of them would step into the car.
Finally, I began to realize what was happening. All of these girls were hookers. I was really shocked. They looked so fresh and outdoorsy, too. I hurried up the street until I got to the. less populated area.
I decided to check out the movie back lots. I asked a few normal looking older people, and finally, I found out where to get a tour to them.
It cost me quite a bit of money, but I figured it was worth it. I ought to see the place where I would be working.
I really enjoyed the tour. We got to see 'a few television shows being filmed, and we even got to meet some actors. One I recognized from a television show, but I hadn't known his name.
When the tour was over, I took a cab back to my place. I was late for dinner, and the old woman was mad. She said, that I should make my own meals, and she would take fifty dollars off of my rent. But, I wouldn't have a kitchen, so I would have to be eating out. So, I figured I'd eat at the Hollywood drugstores. Maybe I would be discovered like Lana Turner.
The next day I set about to find a job. But, it was really difficult. There were so many young people all over the place looking for jobs. So many were in the exact same position as me.
So, I began to really feel low. I began to remember all the discouraging things that my mother and other cynics had said about my fanciful plans. I went into a drugstore to have dinner.
There were no seats at the counter, and all the booths were filled. I was really tired from walking around, and having my spirits depressed. I didn't want to go search for another place.
I saw that in one booth a woman was there by herself. I said to her, "Would you mind if I sat down here, too? I'm awfully tired."
She said, "Sure, honey. I could use the company."
So, I sat down with her. She handed me her menu. She hadn't ordered yet. She said, "Their steak sandwich is about the safest thing."
"Oh, it looks a little steep for me. I better just get a tuna fish sandwich." I said.
"Gan't you make that at home, honey?" she said.
"I don't have a kitchen in my room." I said to her.
"Oh, that's a shame. Are you boarding in some old lady's house or something?" she asked
"Yeah, how'd you know?" I asked. "You've got the look. It's pretty common." she said.
"Yeah, I'm really finding out how common I am. I used to think I was pretty, but everyone's as pretty as me, here." I said, sighing.
"Oh, don't let it get you down. You gotta look close. Not all of them are so pretty. In fact, I think you've really got something special." she said, kindly.
"Oh, I don't know. I don't know how to get into acting. I don't know anything." I said.
"So, you're new to town?" she asked.
"Yes, I just got in this week, and already I'm depressed at my chances of success." I said.
Just then, the waiter came. He took our orders. She said, "Let me buy you a steak sandwich, honey."
I said, "Oh, I couldn't let you do that."
She said, "Sure you can. You should take whatever you can get. Besides, you'll be paying me back, if you listen to my deal."
I liked her look, so I said, "Well, alright.
But, you must let me return the favor someday."
She said, "Of course you will."
So, the waiter went to get us two steak sandwiches. I drank my ice water, and looked at the woman. She was older than me. She looked to be about thirty. She had black hair. It went to her shoulders, just above them. And, she had bangs. She had a pretty face, but it seemed worn out. She had thick lips and a flat nose. She had nice big eyes, but she was beginning to get wrinkles around them.
She must have once had a great figure, but now it was getting a little dumpy. Her whole manner, though, was sort of used up and earthy.
I asked her, "What's your name?"
She said, "My name's Becky. What's yours?"
I said, "I'm Angela. Are you an actress?"
She said, "Yea, in a way. I'm getting more into talent scouting, now. That's why you interest me."
I said, "Oh, really! So, you find actors for parts?"
"Yes. In fact, I have a little thing in the boards right now." she said.
The waiter came just then with our salads. Becky had ordered full dinners. After he left, and we had put our dressings on, I said, "Please tell me if I'm being pushy, but, do you need any actresses right now?"
Becky said, "Well, as a matter-of-fact we do. You'd be perfect for one of our parts. But, I'm not sure if you'd be interested in it. It's a very difficult part."
I said, "Oh, please, try me! I'm really a very good actress, too."
"Oh, I don't think you would really be able to do it." Becky said.
"I'm positive that I could. Please let me have the part!" I begged her.
She said, "Well, you see, I don't know if you'd be mature enough to handle the part. It involves some nudity, and other types of acting."
"I'd do that, if it was a good part. I realize that an actress has to do certain things nowadays." I said.
"That's a mature attitude. And, surprisingly, ours is one of the few productions were there isn't the casting couch business involved. It's all simulated in our productions, instead of really going on back stage." she said.
"So, is this a movie, or what?" I asked excitedly.
"Oh, it's a movie. It won't be shown around, so you don't even have to worry about your friends or relatives seeing it. A producer who-likes this sort of thing has them especially made for him. So, actually, you may be seen by some very important people in Hollywood," Becky said.
"Oh, really. Have any of your actresses gotten a break from doing these films?" I asked
"Yes, one of our girls is now the special protegee of Fred Goldman. She's already had one cinematic vehicle for herself, and there's a television show in the works." Becky said.
"Wow! That's great. I really want to do this, can you give me an audition?" I asked.
"Oh, you won't need that. I'm sure you'll be fine, as long as you are cooperative." Becky said.
I was so happy. I had landed an important film part on my first day out job hunting. I asked Becky, "Well, that's fabulous! Where and when should I come to work?"
She said, "Give me your phone number, and I'll call you with all the details."
So, I gave her my number. We finished our dinner, discussing our pasts. I didn't have much to tell. But, Becky did.
She told me how she had rich parents and went to a prep school and everything in the Northeast. Then, she worked as a performance artist in New York City. The big producer saw her work, and asked her to come out to L. A. to make movies for him. Becky said, "It gets really tiresome now, but I get a really good salary, and I am learning how to make movies."
"Oh, you want to be a movie director?" I asked.
"Yes. But, it's so hard for a woman to break into it. But, the producer, who shall remain unnamed, promises that he will let me make a legitimate film in a few years." Becky said.
"Is he a nice man?" I asked.
"Well, I must say, he's very good to work with. He's very good about money. But, I just can't respect anybody who gets off on stuff like the films I have to make. I think the people who like such stuff are scumbags. I wanted to call my production company Scumbags, Incorporated, but the producer objected. You won't have to see him, though, and I hardly have to see him, either." she said.
"Well, I'm just grateful to him, and to you, for this break." I said.
"Well, maybe you won't thank me so much once you see what the part actually involves." she said.
"Oh, I'm a professional. I will do whatever my character would do." I said.
"Well, she'll be a very submissive character." Becky said, smirking dryly.
"That's alright. I played Mary Queen of Scots in prison, once." I said.
"Well, this will be a bit different. You will be paid well, and that's the most important thing, in my opinion. You'll get five thousand dollars for the whole shot, and it will only take two weeks." she said.
My mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe it. I never dreamed of making so much money in such a short amount of time.
Three days later Becky called me. She asked for my address. She said that a check with three hundred dollars in advance would be coming to me. She said I would get the rest after I finished production. Production was to start in a week.
I got the check, and opened up a savings and checking account. It was my first. I was so happy. I love having money that I've earned myself.
Finally, it came time to go make the film. I was picked up in a limousine by Becky. I was to live on the set of the film for the two weeks. I would get all my meals and stuff there. I would get a nice room with a television and radio, and there would be daily film showings of Hollywood's finest. Becky told me it would be like being at a resort in my free time. But, she warned me that when it was time for me to act, I had to do whatever she said.
I was happy enough to agree to her conditions. I said goodbye to my landlady, and went out to the limousine. I had told my parents that I would be on location for the two weeks.
Becky and I rode in the chauffeur driven limousine to the studio. It was out in the dry towns beyond Los Angeles. It was a long trip. Finally, it was over.
Becky and I got out of the car. We were in a beautiful compound. Becky said it belonged to the producer. She showed me to my room. It was very nice,-like at an expensive, modern hotel.
Becky said that I would have to work at midnight, but I could relax until then. She told me which room to go to.
I lay down on the nice big bed, and turned on the radio. The Eagles were on. I fell asleep. Long rides sometimes tire me out.
At eleven o'clock, my telephone rang. I picked it up. A woman's tinny voice said, "Becky wants you to be reminded to go to room eleven in an hour. She requests that you shower and relieve yourself before then."
I said, "Oh, thank you."
I did as Becky requested. I got myself very clean, then I put on perfume. I shaved my legs and armpits. I figured if I was to be nude, I better be looking my best. I didn't put on perfume, as I figured I'd be done up by a make up man.
Finally, I was ready, and it was time. I went to the room. Becky greeted me at the door. It was a big room. There were cameras set up in one corner, and from the middle of the ceiling, a pulley was suspended.
Becky said, "You'll have to take off your clothes. Bert will make you up."
I was a little embarrassed to be naked in front of the five or so camera and lighting men, but I kept thinking to myself that I was a professional. I took off my clothes, and let Bert make me up.
He put make up all over my body. I was very hot with it under the lights. But, it made my very good skin even more flawless looking. Then, Becky came over. She said, "Well, lets have a look. Not bad. But, that pube hair will have to come off. I'm sorry, Angela, but that's what the part requires."
I gulped and said, "Well, if it's really necessary."
She said, "Yes, it really is."
So, I had to spread my legs, and Bert shaved my cunt. I was really embarrassed. But, he was very gentle, and he didn't make any rude comments. My body looked really smooth than. I don't have a lot of body hair, even though I'm a blonde, and then I was like marble.
Then, Becky said, "Well, you'll have to be bound now. It may be uncomfortable. Your part requires you to writhe in agony, so let yourself. I promise you that you won't be hurt."
I said, "Alright."
I was really .puzzled by all that was going on, but I figured that Becky knew what was going on. Three men started to put me in all sorts of strange positions. While this was going on, Bert was making up Becky.
Becky put on this tight leather bra. But, it was a bra without cups. Her tits were made to stick out real round form it. Then, she had studded leather bands around her upper arms. They made her look tough. Around her waist was another band of leather.
Her crotch was bare, and she had her pubic hair. She put long, thigh high leather boots on her legs. They had really high heels, and made her legs look really long.
Meanwhile, the men were fitting me into the pulley. The cameras were turned to this, and I was instructed by the assistant director to make moaning sounds, and pretend to struggle. I found it difficult to have a part and get no practice, and no discussion about my character, but I knew that filming was different than theatre.
The men wore black hoods, and looked spooky. They put rubber bands around my arms. They made my hands fold up to my shoulders. It was pretty uncomfortable.
Next, they put metal rings around one knee, and one ankle. Then, they attached a metal stick thing between the two rings. From the metal stick thing extended a stick to my cunt. It had a soft rubber thing that pressed against my cunt. I had to pretend that it was digging into me, but actually, it was just like nothing. I was just a little embarrassed to have the men touch my bare, bald pussy.
The last thing they did was attach a rope with a ring to my right elbow, and suspend me from the ceiling. My foot was still on the ground, though, so it didn't really hurt, it was just like a long stretch.
Then, a rope was tied around my right ankle. The other end was nailed to the floor. The last piece of rope was tied between my left knee and elbow, and to the pulley.
Then, Becky came over. She held onto the pulley, and pulled at it, while mouthing things to the camera. She told me, "We'll fill in the sound later, so we just have to make the right expressions on our faces."
The men kept making the funniest jokes, and I had to laugh, while making my face look more like I was in pain, than in hilarity.
Becky pulled on the rope, and I went up in the air. Now, that hurt a bit. My body was pulled to the ground by gravity, but suspended from the rope. It only lasted a couple of minutes, though, until the camera could get some good shots. They would speed it up later.
Becky said to me, "The producer, scumbag that he is,-likes to think that all the things we film are real, but I wouldn't put my girls through that. We always speed the film up, and do as much trick stuff as we can."
I said, "So he's being tricked?"
She said, "Yeah, but he deserves it. What sort of an ass-hole wants to see people suffer? I hope you feel alright. We didn't hurt you, did we?"
I said, "No, it hurt for a minute, but I'm okay now."
She said, "Good."
The men helped me get all of the stuff off of me. I was unscathed except my pussy hair was gone. But, that wasn't so bad for all the money I was getting.
Becky said I would be filming about every other day, and the rest of the time I was just to have fun, at the producer's expense.
I learned that Becky convinced the producer that she needed all the money, and two weeks to get the girls really submissive. He thought we were being tortured for the whole two weeks, but actually, we were having the time of our lives. It was champagne and old movies every night. We had a big swimming pool, and I made friends.
There were about ten other girls in the film. The producer only liked to see women being humiliated. What a jerk. But, the men in the technical crew were nice, too. We were all joking around. We made a lot of nasty jokes up about the producer. I also learned a lot of tricks to getting ahead in the movie industry.
I had to do about ten scenes. Most of them were really repetitive. And, Becky told me that she was considered .very imaginative in this sort of thing. It was all unbelievably immature and stupid. I couldn't imagine anybody getting off on it. But, Becky told me that there was a group of ass-holes, high up in the industry who got off on seeing the films.
I find that hard to believe, but there it is. Well, the silliest scene I was in was the climax of the film.
I had to do it with Becky, and two other girls. I got the worst part, but it wasn't that bad, so I didn't complain. The other girls wore the long leather boots, and I didn't that was the thing that I envied them. That was the one thing that I liked, those boots.
Becky let me take a pair of them when it was over.
Well, this was a tit scene. All of our tits were bound with rubber bands, and attached to other things, so our tits were pulled a little.
It was slightly uncomfortable, and I dare say it didn't do much for the maintanence of a good uplift, but it wasn't so bad for a thousand dollars.
There were two girls, one of whom was Becky, behind me. They were attached to this block. There was this spiked wheel on the board. It was really rubber, and bent as soon as it touched us, but it looked like it would lacerate our asses. Pretty sick, I thought.
Becky had her tits attached to her thumbs, and her legs to the board. Judy had her tits attached to this stick behind my elbows, and her legs were attached to Cindy's. My tits were attached to a stick behind Cindy's knees, so my face was pressed into Cindy's cunt. She wasn't shaved either.
Cindy's tits were attached like Judy's to my stick. Cindy also had a gag around her mouth. Becky did that as a joke since Cindy kept making funny comments about my face being in her cunt. As it was, Cindy wouldn't stop keeping her hands in a comical gesture, even though they were bound to her shoulders. Finally, Becky kept it in, she said, it could be taken as pleasure at my cunt-lapping.
For good measure, Becky spread some goo on Judy's thighs, like her boots were cutting into her. I had to wear these ugly white boots that only came up to my knees.
It was the stupidest looking scene I ever saw. We really had a good laugh when we looked at the stills. We had been caught in the stupidest expressions of phony masochistic pleasure.
Well, soon after that scene had been shot, the filming was over. I got the rest of my money, and a limousine drive home.
Since, then I haven't had another acting job, but I do have the money to wait for something with a little dignity. But, I wouldn't mind something like that again. It's a good way to make some bucks quick, and the laugh's on the producer and consumer.
THE STORY OF ANAIS
I was a struggling young writer. I needed money, so I had to do it. It was more tedious than really repugnant. But, I find tedious things just as soul destroying.
I had enough money from my grandfather's inheritance to go to France. I lived there for a year on the money I had. I lived extravagantly. I had a lot of friends, true friends, who were even more broke than I was, so I paid for their wine and bread.
My best friends were June and Henry. He was a writer, and she was his mysterious wife. He wrote about her, mostly, at that time. He wrote marvelous, lusty books, filled with the spirit of life. But, at that time, he was not making any money off of his work.
I was a bit shocked at the way he would use his friends in order to get free meals and money. But, he had respect for me. He said that I was the new voice for women. He also was intrigued by me since I seemed to be able to have a normal relationship with June. We were just women friends. She was just a silly, bright, gossip when she was with me. But, with Henry, she was a femme fatale. She never told him the truth if she could think up a lie. He was obsessed with her.
June really loved him. She thought he was a genius. But, she felt that all men were faithless, and she had found that the way to handle them was to be mysterious. I disagreed with her. I had never liked lying. I wanted my husband and my lovers to know the real me. I didn't worry about keeping them in my web. I was more interested in my own experiences of life.
However, I liked June a lot better than the mousy little wives of the other men in my circle.
The only other woman who I really liked was Djuna. Now, there was a woman. She had a true night time spirit.
Well, we all had a very great life. Paris was in its prime. The streets were full of art and artifice. We would go to the cafes every night and drink and talk. Then, our money ran out, or rather my, as I was supporting everyone else, my money slipped away. We lived on credit for a while, but then, even that went out.
Then, one day Henry came into my room. He was laughing. He said, "Take a look at this."
He gave me a picture. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. The first thing I noticed was the poor quality of the art. I said, "I hope you didn't pay money for this, why Andre Breton could draw better."
He said, "Andre doesn't draw."
I said, "Exactly."
Henry said, "Anais, you aren't looking at it. What is it?"
I looked at the thing. What it was repulsed me even more. Some idiot had drawn a picture of a woman tied up with a rope. Her long, thick hair was over her face so she couldn't see anything. Her delta of venus was shaved, and the rope was tightly pressed into the woman there, and along the length of her naked body.
The woman's breasts were standing up in a position that was impossibly erect. The rope hung over her head. It was unpleasantly like a hangman's noose. Her feet were also bound by the rope. And she was in a yoga like posture.
In the background of the picture was a cave like wall. On one end were two chains with hand cuffs dangling. I said to Henry, "What do you mean by showing me this vulgar thing?"
He said, "That's going to be wine and bread for the week."
I said, "What do you mean by that? Did you draw this ugly thing?"
He said, "No. I have to write a story to go along with it."
I said, "Why? What sort of a stupid story could accompany such a hideous drawing?"
Henry said, "Oh, something dirty enough to get off the old bastard that's paying me."
I said, "You are being paid to write pornography? How could you?"
He said, "Easy. It's only trash. And, I'll get a dollar a page."
I said, "A dollar a page! How much do you write?"
He said, "I intend to do about ten a day. I can knock a first draft off at night, when I'll do it at night when I have insomnia. Then, June said she'd retype it, do her share. Although, I think with all the stories that she tells me, she should be able to write her own."
I said, "Well, let's see ... ten dollars a day, and that's off the books, right?"
"Yes." he said.
"So, say you do it five times a week, that's fifty dollars ... you could survive on that." I said to him.
"Right. And, it's painless enough." he said.
"Well, congratulations. My money's just about gone." I said.
"Well, I figured I'd pay you back for all the wine you gave me, by tipping you off to this deal. I thought you might like to write, too." he said.
"Well, let's see. You really find it easy?" I asked.
"Yeah, you don't have to worry about making it good literature. In fact, it really shows you the difference between real literature and hack work. You can make the plots and characterizations really ridiculous, too. It can be fun in a crummy sort of way." he said.
"Well, how do I contact this man?" I asked.
"Oh, he's very secretive. He certainly wouldn't want to meet a woman that was writing for him. I think he's a rich old bastard. I was contacted through his lawyer. He had read that piece I published in the broadside, and thought I had great potential to be a dirty writer. I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult. In any case, he contacted me, and I decided to try it." he said.
"So, how much have you done so far?" I asked him.
"I've done two short stories, so far. I have to do about a forty page story for two illustrations. So, I do get a lot of leeway as to what I want to fill the rest up with. But, it all has to be explicit." he said.
"So, do I just contact his lawyer?" I asked him.
"Yeah, I'll give you his address. He's quite up on the literary scene, actually. He's heard of you. He read that little prose poem that you put out. He thinks you have good potential too. His client is very excited about having a woman write for him." he said.
"Well, I guess it's worth a try. The money will come in handy, and it won't take up much of my time. But, what I'm really looking for is another job as a Spanish dancer." I said.
"Yeah, try to find that with your husband gone." he said, somewhat tactlessly.
So, I went to see the lawyer. It was a very distinguished looking office. The man was very genteel to me. He spoke strictly in euphemisms.
I asked him about his client. He said that he was an elderly man, who spent most of his days in his family house. He just lived with a few servants. He had a passion for erotic fiction. Now that he had the money to spend, his passion was to collect his own books that nobody else would have. He also liked to have good writers work for him. He thought they might come in as good investments someday.
So, I picked up my picture, and started on my first story. I told the man that I'd have it done by the end of the week. I didn't want to overtax myself on my first assignment.
The first picture I had to work with was pretty ludicrous. It was of two women. They were both very busty, and hairless, even in their deltas. They were in some room, with what looked like a millstone.
One woman was upside-down. Her head was hidden inside the millstone. Her arms were spread out, and latched onto the stone with metal. Her upside down position made her breasts fall in twin, round heaps by her throat.
The unfortunate woman's feet were latched to a wooden board, which was attached to the second woman's waist. So, the upside down woman's body was straight up in the air.
The board was attached to a metallic looking band around the other woman's waist.
The other woman was bound to a wooden beam going across the walls. She was upright. A rough rope was under her enormous breasts, and her upper arms, which were on the other side of the beam.
The top woman's ankles were attached to a metal rod which was pressed into the lower woman's hairless delta. The wooden board at the upside down woman's feet, was also pressing into a delta, the top woman's delta.
The women were just there, bound. There was nobody else in the picture. It was up to me to invent some sort of preposterous reason why they were being held in such a debasing posture.
The lawyer told me to make it as degrading to the women as possible. I had balked at first at the cruelty of the poses, but he had told me that I didn't have to dwell on the physical pain.
The arousing aspect for the man that would read it would be the submission of the women. They would give themselves totally to their master, in fear of even worse treatment. It was to be a psychological drama.
So, I set out to think up a story. At first, I strove to make a good psychological novelette. But, then, I realized that that was pointless. No decent psychological work, no work of true human action, could be made out of such shoddy material. My reader was not interested in the real problems of human relationships. I had no hope of writing of the actual axes of dominance and submission between lovers.
That would be too subtle. The man only wanted the cheapest sort of arousal.
It would not be art, but utilitarian writing. It would go by the Vatican's definition of pornography. It would just be judged by its ability to give the reader an erection.
Well, I did my job. And, I went back for my next set of pictures. I had to write about bestiality. I found that much more interesting. I dug into my mythology, and tried to work in the ancient fascination with our fellow animate creatures. I thought I had done a good job of it. I was quite satisfied with the wav I had woven in the mystical and sensual obsessions of my heroine. But, my feedback was, "Make it dirtier. Make it more explicit."
So, I soon gave up on applying any excellence in my work. I just tried to fill up the pages as quickly as possible. I even learned to make my paragraphs short, and to make a line of conversation just long enough to go down to the next line. That way, I could go down a page much more quickly.
By the end of the month, not only Henry and I, but several of our friends were writing. We would get together, to make it less tedious. We would give each other ideas, and sometimes we had good laughs about the things we thought up. Some days we would get giddy, and hold contests to see who could write the most inane dialogue, or think up the most bizarre sexual act.
To relieve the deadening task, we sometimes worked on parodies of famous works of literature. But, that usually took too long. And, any cleverness in our work was not appreciated by our client. He always sent the message, "More details. Stick to the dirty parts."
So, we did as he asked, although sometimes we had to stick in an in joke on him, or we would have gone crazy. Eventually, we stopped writing his filth.
Henry was the first to drop out. He stopped because he found it was destroying his ability to write his own work. You see, his work was so centered on sensuality, although of a very artistic sort, that writing pornography was just counteracting it. He found himself getting crippled as a writer.
I was mostly concentrating on my diary in those days, so my work wasn't effected so much. I just put my three hours of dirty work out of my mind as soon as they were finished. My life was very exciting then, otherwise. I kept meeting the most fascinating people, and I liked putting them in my diary as much as meeting them. One day, I hoped to publish it. It was becoming a legend. It would probably become better known than my fiction .and poetry.
Actually, the work did have a sort of merit. Paradoxically, it was making us more purified in our sexuality. In our books, we had to dwell on the sensual and cruel aspects of sexuality. We all have some of that in ourselves, and often in our real sex lives. But, having to spend so much time, energy, and imagination on such sordid aspects of sexuality, we, in a sense, gorged ourselves. It was like starting a withdrawal from alcohol by getting so drunk one is sick.
I don't know how it is for the reader of pornography. I've read some of the classics, such as, "The Story of O", which, incidentally, I don't find any merit in as literature, unlike some male literary critics, who have probably not had the exposure to the writing aspect of pornography that I have had. Anyhow, I've read "O", and the collected best of "The Pearl", and "Fanny Hill". The latter two have interest as period pieces. I don't actually think that sexuality is as important as many people think, but I do think that seeing the sexual obsessions of a culture can tell you something about a culture. So, it was interesting to read those archaic stroke books.
But, I've never been a reader of pornography. I guess most people read a few books in their lifetime. They probably just satisfy curiosity, and perhaps teach a few techniques, although most pornography, probably written by men gives an untrue, in my opinion, view of sex. But, I don't think one thinks about it too much for the few books one reads, if one is a normal person.
However, those people, such as my patron, who collect, and seemingly are obsessed with written erotica,, must get something else out of it. I wonder if it can be a case of extreme pleasure in the text, to use Barthes' terminology. Maybe it is in the case of my patron who was interested in getting good writers to write for him, and for him alone. However, I tend to think that for most of the obsessive readers of pornography, questions of literature, its nature and paradoxes, is far from their little minds. like most obsessions, of neurotics, there is probably a lot less there than meets the eye.
It's like Breton. He may have found a truly fascinating madman in Nadja, but, much as my Romantic's soul would like to romanticize insanity, it turns out to usually be a sordid, dull little thing. Most of the insane people that I have met have been very tedious. I have tended to think that they were just not very bright to dwell so much on silly things.
So, I don't think that habitual readers are doing anything interesting from a literary point of view. I don't think that they are experimenting with the limits of sensuality and symbology. I think they are just crude minded people who are just out for a cheap, sensual thrill of the most insignificant sort. Even my patron ended up being like that.
Anyway, at that time, the writing of the trash was effecting my personal sex life in a progressive way. For a while, when it was all new to me. I would view my own encounters as experiments, or as research, depending on how active a role I was playing.
My husband was away at that time. I had always had lovers, and with him gone, I went through one of my periodical promiscuous periods. This was begun about a month before I began the writing.
I went through affairs, some of them simultaneously, with various phony poets, and lounge lizards. Then, I met Lawrence. I met him and his wife through June. I was not impressed immediately. He was an Englishman, although he had spent years in the British foreign office in Alexandria and in the Greek Islands, and knew Greek fluently. He also had a love of the Greek personality. He was the one who introduced me to the brilliant poetry of Cavafy. But, he remained an Englishman. And, I have never been one to fall for an Englishman.
I find Englishmen too stuffy and cold. Their politeness chills me. Henry has written that way about Scandinavian women. But, I find Scandinavian men very exciting. I feel that sort of revulsion that Henry wrote about, about Englishmen. They seem to reek of the class system. And, they don't have that love of women that the other Europeans do. Well, the French and the Italians, I think, love women, and the Northern Europeans don't love them, but they are so strong in their masculinity that it is exciting. But, an Englishman is like cold porridge, that horrible mess that they like to eat for breakfast.
Anyhow, so I wasn't very impressed by Lawrence. However, June insisted that I read the first part of the quartet that he was writing. I procrastinated, but finally, in a dull moment, I did sit down and begin it. I was very happy that I had. It was magnificent.
I finished the whole six chapters in that one sitting, and went out to find Lawrence. I had to tell him right away how good it was. But, it was three days until I saw him again.
When I did finally meet him again, I began to notice things about him that I hadn't wanted to see before, because of my stupid prejudice against Englishmen. I noticed the intelligent gleam in his green eyes. I noticed the sensuality of his hands. I noticed that, although he seemed to adore his wife, he had an eye for other women.
I decided to make him my next lover. I used every trick that my Spanish father had taught me when I was young. He had been the best teacher. He thought I would become a dancer, and he wanted to prepare me to succeed at the wiles that a dancer must use.
So, at that first meeting, I made an appointment with Lawrence to see him, without his wife. He was to come to my apartment the next afternoon, ostensibly to look at some of my poems.
I dosed myself with perfume, and covered myself in silk. I had even bathed for nearly two hours in a new expensive bath oil. I was ready for him.
It was a perfect day, too. It was cold, and wet. It was perfect for cuddling up indoors. It was English weather.
I sat and did my nails while I waited for Lawrence to arrive. He was late, as I came to find was usual for him. I sat, and got more and more excited.
Finally, he arrived. I listened to him climb up the rickety staircase. Finally, he was in my room. I made him sit down next to me. I sat close to him.
I brought out my most erotic poems for him. He looked through them, moving his lips s he went along. He seemed to get the rhythms perfectly. Meanwhile, I was letting my shawl slip open and reveal my breasts to him, as well as my long, smooth legs.
I noticed him noticing me. I moved closer to him. I was practically on top of him. I could feel his aroused breathing.
Finally, he was moved beyond control. He rolled himself on top of me. He opened my shawl and robe all the way. He feasted his eyes on my treasures.
I was heaving with excitement. I loved to have him look at me like that. Then, he took his hand, and put it to my breast. He squeezed it until I nearly passed out.
Next, he took my sheets of paper, where my poems were written, and began to rip them up. I was shocked. They were my only copies of the poems. I cried out. He continued to rip them up.
Then, he forced my trembling legs apart, and stuffed the ragged edged papers up my delta. It was waxy paper, and it really hurt. I screamed in pain and rage. He just laughed, and put his hand over my mouth.
Then, he unbuttoned his trousers. He had a huge cock. He put it to my hole, and slid it into me. I was still very upset, and angry. But, his fucking me, really turned me on. I was already coming. The scraps of paper were scratching inside me. They were pushed deeper into my on the end of his prick.
Lawrence pumped away at me. He was rough. He gave me no mercy. But, I had never had such intense pleasure, or such pain. Finally, when I was red and sore inside, he came. He came inside of me with long, hot spurts.
When he removed his cock from my cunt, he put it up to my mouth. He said, "Lick it off, and swallow the bits of your lousy poems."
I was crying with humiliation, but I did as he said.
He just looked at me with his handsome bastard's eyes while I cleaned off his come coated dick with my tongue. Then, he said, "Do you have a razor?"
I was too afraid to answer. Then, he slapped me and said, "Answer, me!"
I said, "It's in the medicine chest in the bathroom."
He said, 'That's better. Where's your phone?"
I said, "In my bedroom."
He went to the phone, and phoned our cafe. I heard him say over the phone, "Come on up to Anais' place, I'm trying something out on her."
Then, he went and got my razor. He returned to the couch, and made me sit on his lap until our guests came.
When I saw ten of our male friends from the cafe come in the room, I quickly closed my robe around me. I saw Lawrence sneer at me. He said to the men, "I'm going to show you Anais' pussy."
I said, "No! You will not humiliate me in front of our friends."
He just slapped me, and forced me onto my back on the couch. He could make my robe come off, but I refused to open my legs. The men crowded around. None of them had ever been to bed with me, or seen me naked.
I put my feet at Lawrence's crotch. He was hard again, inside of his trousers. I pushed against his bulge with my feet. He pressed against me.
He bent his body down, and put his hand to my naked crotch. He let the men crowd around, and see my brown pubic hair. I could hear them sighing. They were gazing with desire at my curly hair.
Then, Lawrence took the razor, and began to shave off my hair. I moaned with the humiliation. The men crowded closer so they could see everything.
Soon, all the hair was gone in front. My slit was visible to all the men. I could have died. Then, Lawrence said, "You better open up, or I'll cut you."
What could I do but obey. I opened my thighs. The men were clearly gasping by then. They watched with bated breath while Lawrence shaved off the hair between my legs. My whole pussy was bald and they could see the outer lips.
Then, Lawrence said, "That's not enough. You've got to show the inner lips."
But, I would not let him have that to show our friends. I needed to hold something back. But, Lawrence said to one man, "Bring me Anais' paintbrush over there."
I was doing a bit of painting in those days, too. I had a clear, plastic container with brushes on my kitchen table. It was a small apartment, and I had to do my art in the kitchen.
The man fetched a broad brush. He brought it to Lawrence. Lawrence laughed devilishly. He held the brush in his hand. He said to the men, "Now, watch this."
He took the brush and began to stroke my slit with it. I tried to hold out, but soon, too soon, the sensations were too much for me. I began to moan. It felt so good. It was so arousing. All the men were watching me, and I was so ashamed to be coming in front of them. I was so humiliated at being forced to lose control in front of my cafe mates.
Lawrence kept stroking me. Finally, I had to open my cunt wider. I pressed out. Soon, my whole jewel was showing. The wet, sticky inner folds were visible to the men. They were all blinking with desire. I just closed my eyes and groaned. I was coming, I was losing all control. I was totally vulnerable. But, it felt to good to do anything about it.
Finally, I panted out my orgasmic noises. Lawrence stopped stroking me. He said to the men, "You can all go now. Anais has shown you everything that she has."
They all left. I curled up on the couch, and sobbed. I said to Lawrence, "That was cruel."
He said to me, "I want you to give everything. I am interested in your total submission, not in your stupid poetry."
I began to wail. He sneered, arid left me. I stayed on the couch the rest of the night. I was shaken with humiliation.
Anyhow, I wrote this story, while I waited for him to come. Then, my phone rang. It was Lawrence. He said, "My wife and I have to go somewhere, so I can't see you today. Maybe tomorrow."
