I hope none of you will mind a slight change of format for this particular item from our Case Book.
As you know, I have a somewhat, privileged position in The Specialist Club. I more or less started the thing. or at least I was one of the founding members; I've put up a good bit of the necessary cash; and I'm the cousin of Charles Spencer the Secretary. (nobody knows this, of course: and I'll trouble you not to let the information out, if you please!). I suppose most people regard me as a sort of ex-officio President. not that we have one formally, and even if we did I'm sure lots of people would do it better than I! Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that people seem to talk to me reasonably freely; and this includes the staff as well as the members.
Those of you who've been reading our Case Bock will know who Fanny is. the Club's dresser. (though really 'undresser' would be more appropriate!) She looks after the girls 'before' and 'after', and is really quite an indispensable feature of our Saturday orgie. I may have told you that Charles and I have her pretty well under our thumbs since we're the only people we know who she really is, and that there's still a valid warrant out against her for what happened in her brothel in Boston. So Fanny's an enthusiastic member of the team, as it were. because she has to be, or else!
Actually, to do the old girl justice, I think she's quite genuinely fond of us at the Club. Of course, she's always pointing out that we're not as grand an outfit as her place in Boston was in the old days. And I must say she's most interesting when she gets going. especially when she's got a few drinks under her belt! I was down in her room the other day helping her punish a bottle of Scotch and listening to her yakking away in that clipped upper-class Boston accent of hers, when it suddenly struck me just how interesting she really is. and the idea came to me that you might be amused by some of her little stories. She didn't raise any objections when I put the suggestion to her. as a matter of fact, I think she rather welcomed the idea of being back in the limelight again, even if only in print. so I formed up next day with a tape-recorder and a couple of bottles, and let her talk her head off over the next 48 hours.
All I've done, really, is edit the stuff. divide it up into suitably-sized chunks, cut out the repetitions and purely personal reminiscences, remove all clues as to her real identity, and so on. I hope you'll find the result as interesting as I do! I've left her story in the first person: so just remember that the I in the coming pages doesn't refer to me as it usually does, but to Fanny, now dresser to The Specialist Club, and formerly Madam of Boston's most exclusive brothel.
Good reading to you!
Max Douglas.
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Chapter One
I must say it's surprisingly hard to know where to begin, Max! I just don't think it's possible to give you a coherent story in chronological order, because of course there isn't a 'story' in the true sense of the word. only a series of 'things that happened', and most of them aren't connected to each other at all. I'll just have to do my best, and hope my readers will find something to interest them.
Perhaps I ought to start by saying that it wasn't really my house at all, even though the place was registered in my name. It was actually owned by The Organization, and I was merely a fairly well-paid employee. I was given a pretty free hand with the girls themselves, and with the customers: but most of the policy decisions were taken by the accountant and the steward, both of whom lived on the premises. They reported directly to Don Marco, The Organization's 'baron' for the New England area: and I suppose you could say he was the real boss of the place. he certainly visited us quite frequently. I used to get on with him quite well: he was always very polite, and he would listen to you when you talked to him, which is a fairly rare virtue these days! So what he did to me at the end came as a really terrible personal shock. But I'll deal with that later: and I expect you'll say I should have known better. though it's hard to see what a mere employee can do when someone of Don Marco's calibre decides he's going to stop you! I knew he was a sadist, of course. even though he was pushing 70, and too old for active sex, he was a great voyeur; and the one thing guaranteed to bring him over to the place was the knowledge that one of the girls had earned herself a punishment whipping, or that some special customer had arranged a flagellation session. Don Marco would always be there, sitting quietly behind the see-through mirror and smiling happily to himself as the girl's screams got louder and louder. but even so, I never imagined that I could be in any danger from him! I know better now, of course, as I'd explain to you later on.
It was quite a big house. about 20 girls; and I had a couple of matrons under me to help look after them. We were pretty expensive. just an ordinary straight lay cost $50, and the man would be expected to buy drinks on top of that, of course: and as a result you had to be fairly rich to be a regular customer of ours. and if you're rich, you're more likely to be influential than if you're poor. So we didn't get any interference from the police. and in return it was understood that we were to run a discreet operation, and cause no public scandal. and who wants that in our line of business anyway? Well, what with The Organization as our owners, and the Boston Brahmins as our clientele, and the police turning a blind eye to us, we soon became properly established: and then we started catering for specialized tastes. the fetishists, the masochists, and so on. (One of the things you should be congratulated on, Max, here in the Club, is your programme of sadist exhibitions. People used to come to my place and get very annoyed when they heard what it would cost them to whip one of my girls into unconsciousness: they don't seem to realize that she won't be able to work for a couple of weeks, and that they've got to make good the loss of earnings. so it's a pretty expensive business in a brothel! You don't know how lucky you are here, with your team of 'enthusiastic amateurs'. ).
The building itself was something quite special. Before The Organization got hold of it, it had been the New England Junior Democratic Club, and you'd be surprised if you knew how little it cost to convert the place to its new role! The public amenities were fantastic. an indoor swimming pool, and a couple of sauna baths in the basement: a billiard-room which made a perfect theatre-cum-cine-ma: a couple of splendid reception rooms on the ground floor, just the right size for a mass orgy: a library into which The Organization put some very high-class pornography. The second and third floors were already split up into little bachelor bedrooms. about ten of them on each floor, each with its own tiny bathroom. the Junior Democrats certainly knew how to make themselves comfortable!. and what could be more convenient, from our point of view? We turned the top floor into staff quarters and offices. I had a comfortable little apartment all to myself, and there were rooms for my matrons, Don Marco's two henchmen, and our four Negroes. who were handymen by day, and bouncers in the evening; and of course we used them in our exhibitions all the time, so they were happy enough!
Down in the basement we had our store-rooms, two or three little lock-up rooms that were used as cells when need arose. (not merely for our own girls. in fact, very rarely: but don't forget we were owned by The Organization. and every now and then we would be told to 'put someone up for the night'; we just did as we were told, and if we thought we recognized a face from the newspaper headlines. well, we never asked any questions!) Also down in the basement were three soundproof rooms, where our masochist customers used to go to get themselves whipped: here too our girls would receive their punishments. (always with Don Marco sitting quietly in the narrow little passage behind the see-through mirror), and here would take place the occasional flagellation session, when some millionaire decided he was feeling randy enough to spend the $1000 that was the basic charge. (One of the millionaires outsmarted The Organization over this flagellation business. We had a very beautiful kid of 19 called Candy, who had a high threshold of pain, and must have been quite delightful to whip if your tastes lay that way. This chap. he was a steel king, if I remember rightly. paid for her a couple of times, and liked her very much. The next thing we knew, he took her out and married her! The Organization was very cross. but Don Marco just laughed it off; the steel man was really too important to get the usual treatment of a beating-up, anyway. and besides, I think Don Marco rather respected him: Candy was a nice girl, who was not likely to embarrass her husband in public; while in private, he could whip her little arse as much as he liked. and all for free! But you needn't think The Organization often got outsmarted like that!)
So there we were, on top of the world. A beautiful house, twenty lovely girls, a nice clientele, and a police force that never worried us. Everything was going for me in those days, Max and I'd be there still. if Don Marco hadn't played that lousy trick, and then had his heart attack before he could straighten things out! Ah well!. 'Tout passe, toute casse, tout lasse', as the saying goes: and I know you'll want me to get on and tell you some of the things that used to go on.
Chapter Two
One summer we had a lot of visits from a British Army major who was serving at the United Nations: he had some friends in Boston, and used to come up our way quite often. I remember how well he fitted in with the Bostonians of good family: and also how dignified he was in his behaviour. which was actually quite surprising, for he was one of the randiest, longest. cocked young buggers I've ever met! And ingenious, too. my word! He'd served in India, and used to tell us fascinating stories at cut the things he'd seen and done out there. how one could walk down Grant Road in Bombay, for instance, and find every brothel there with half a dozen girls hung up outside the windows in a little bamboo cages, just like singing birds. young girls of fifteen or sixteen they were, and not a stitch of clothing on them, he said. Walk along, take your time, inspect 'em all, make your choice, and they'd bring her inside for you. just like buying a bird in a pet shop. And he told us how down in the Scuth, there's a whole area noted for the beauty of its women: and the English tea-planters used to go round and buy good-looking young girls of seven and eight, for next to nothing. and then they'd put them out in Roman Catholic convents to be educated and taught how to behave like ladies; and perhaps some special skill, such as piano-playing, or tennis, or bridge. The nuns knew perfectly well what was going on, he said; but they never seemed to object. perhaps they felt that a healthy, well-educated, well-fed mistress was a better proposition, in the general scheme of things, than a wretched half-starved illiterate creature who would probably die of too much childbirth before she ever saw 30: anyway, they were always full of smiles when the planter came and collected his girl seven or eight years later on. now, of course, a beautiful bedworthy piece, fully accepted by local custom as being entirely his own personal property. and well-educated, well-spoken, nicely domesticated. and all at the hands of Mother Church!
Oh, Alec was the greatest fun to listen to. full of stories he was! He was cavalry officer; and he told us that nearly all the English cavalry regiments have a thing called 'The Three Threes Club'. and to become a member you have to pass a test:. Ride three miles on a horse; drink three bottles of champagne; and fuck three girls. all in the space of three hours. According to Alec, the way to tackle it is to pour all the champagne into a big basin, first thing off, and then fuck one of the girls: then go and do the three miles, at a steady canter. which gets you into the right frame of mind to drink a little champagne and screw another girl, as soon as you get back. Then have a bit of sleep, getting the girls to wake you up at about the two and one-half-hour mark; three naked girls can almost certainly get you worked up enough to fuck the third one successfully. but the real difficulty lies in disposing of all that damned champagne! Even with the fizz off it, from standing open all that time, it's still a formidably sick-making task: and that's what causes most of the failures. One nice point: if you pass, the Club picks up your tab: but if you fail, you have to pay for the champagne, and the girls, yourself! We weren't rude enough to ask Alec, of course: but somehow I don't think he had to pay when he took his test!
Now, I expect you're wondering why I called him 'ingenious'. Well, I'll have to give you a bit of background here. Alec had a set of very beautiful glossy action photographs. some of the dirtiest stuff I've ever seen, even in the trade: and there was one of them that showed a girl. just a young kid she was, couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. dealing with seven men at once. There was an absolute pyramid of bodies. two of them down at the bottom, and she was squatting on them, with one up each hole: then there were two crouching, one on either side of her, with their codes in her armpits. and that made four: she was tossing off Nos. five and six with her two hands: and the seventh one she was sucking off. most ingenious, the whole thing was! Well, one day Alec said he thought he could do better than that: he reckoned it was theoretically possible to arrange for a round dozen men to enjoy a girl's body simultaneously. Naturally, he got taken up on that one! But he won through all right, the bastard!
I lent him one of the big salons. for he'd aroused quite a lot of interest with his claim, which everyone felt was rather fantastic: and we gathered quite an enthusiastic audience. obviously business was going to be brisk that evening! He'd decided to use a big, dumb, busty blonde called Margot. a pleasant, good-natured girl who was very popular with the customers, but not particularly gifted with grey matter! (Alec used to call her 'Jersey', telling her this was after a famous English beauty called 'The Jersey Lily': apparently poor Margot had never heard of a Jersey cow. which was what he meant, of course!) Margot was the obvious choice, because of her peculiar physical attributes. she was double-jointed at the hips, and could get her legs into positions that looked anatomically impossible: also, she was a big girl, and had a big, elastic vagina to match.
Alec had booked my four Negroes for the evening. I was horrified at the thought of poor Margot being attacked by twelve pricks of their vast size; but in the event I needn't have worried: when Alec swept into the salon to get the experiment under way, he was spouting fluent Italian to eight charming young naval cadets from an Italian Navy training ship which happened to be visiting Boston. They took the whole thing quite seriously, regarding it as a scientific experiment of value: and as the slim young bodies peeled off, quite unselfconscious, there were smiles of appreciation from my girls, and some rather wistful looks of envy from the middle-aged studs among the customers. Alec had chosen eight good-looking, healthy boys. (none of them was more than sixteen or seventeen years old): and their slim young cocks made a fine spectacle as they crowded eagerly round the lush nudity of the voluptuous Margot, who was making it very plain that she would be a more than willing collaborator in the forthcoming experiment.
Chapter Three
He started off by getting two of the cadets to kneel facing each other, close together so that the fronts of their bodies were in contact: then he bent them backwards from the waist, their supple young spines flexing until each cadet's shoulders came to rest on a strategically-placed footstool. The boys obviously understood what was required, and each pressed his pelvis forward against his companion, so that the two hard slim young pricks stood side by side, pointing upwards to the ceiling in a double baton of flesh. of noble proportions, true, but no larger than the weapons possessed by some generously-endowed adults.
With an 'Ooh!' and an 'Aaah?' and a hiss of indrawn breath. Margot backed against the two bodies, and sat down cautiously at right angles to them, spreading herself with one hand and feeding the double baton into her body with the other: her loins twisted this way and that, and she spread her knees experimentally as she sought a position that would allow her to engulf the two pricks as deeply as possible in her quim. Finally she indicated that she was comfortable.
Alec led a third cadet up behind her, and whispered in his ear: the good-looking lad blushed, grinned, and knelt down: then he shuffled forward on his knees as Alec swiftly bent Margot's torso forward a little and slapped a dab of vaseline on the trim brown arsehole hiding between the tight-stretched buttocks. Three pairs of hands held the lovely naked body firm as the Italian's thin stiff cock slipped easily into the well-greased hole: and now Margot was accommodating three pricks in cunt and arsehole.
Now Alec produced two high kitchen stools, and set them as close in as possible on either side of the kneeling youth who had just buggered Margot's arse. The next two cadets came forward at his signal, and clambered up to kneel one on either stool. In this position, Margot's blonde head came chest-high on the two young bodies flanking her from behind; and when Alec gently raised her arms, the spectators could see the two dark bushes peering at them just behind her armpits. A murmured word, and each cadet guided his eager prick into the warm, moist cavern of the armpit: then Alec brought her elbows down to her sides: and now five pricks were in position to be pleasured by the big blonde body.
Now it was the turn of the four Negroes: Alec placed them two on either side of Margot, each pair standing face to face astride one of the footstools supporting the shoulders of the two cadets whose pricks were in her cunt. When they thrust their loins forward, the two big black rods came together to form one massive column rearing proudly towards the ceiling, like a much-magnified ebony edition of the double baton buried in the quim below. Alec took Margot's right hand in his, and drew it out to her right, maneuvering it between the two big black bodies till it dropped down onto the double shaft: then he adjusted her thumb and fingers into an open circle around the two stiff pricks. At his order, she made an experimental wanking movement up and down, while he checked that the motion of her forearm still allowed a suitable friction for the prick embedded in her armpit. Then he repeated the process on the other side: nine pricks had now been readied.
Now Alec set a footstool between Margot's widespread thighs, pushing it in as close as possible to her blonde-bushed cunt, all distended with the two pricks of the kneeling boys. Then he motioned to Cadets No. Six and Seven, who climbed gingerly onto the stool to stand facing each other. By now, there was such a press of bodies all jammed together round the statuesque white body that it was very difficult to see exactly what was happening. till Alec made his audience form a conga line, and file slowly past in pairs, so that everyone could get a view of the proceedings. Now he spoke rapidly in Italian to the two cadets: they shifted closer together on their stool, and as the spectators moved slowly round behind the tableau. (which now comprised no fewer than a dozen bodies. four Negroes, seven cadets, and Margot). it was possible to see that they were standing in a sort of V, the point being formed by their two outer hips. (the ones towards the audience). pressed firmly together, while the two inner hips were separated, so that the mouth of the V was facing Margot. In this position the two pricks came together at an acute angle, to form a long narrow wedge: and the height of the stool was such that the point of the wedge was just level with Margot's pretty nose.
None of us was in any doubt as to what came next. We saw Margot's blue eyes squint as she focussed on the delicious morsels so temptingly displayed. Then her mouth opened, and her head bent forward. The two cadets shuddered with delight as their throbbing cocks sank into the soft warmth of Margot's mouth, until the widening wedge pressed against the two corners of her lips and prevented further progress. Then their gasps of pleasure bore witness to the maddening teasing of Margot's skillful tongue. (she told me afterwards that she was almost beside herself with lust as prick after prick was brought to readiness within or around her body: and if Alec had not spoken sharply to her, she would have sucked these last two dry without a second's hesitation. ).
Only one cadet now remained. a small, well-knit lad, fiercely handsome, and with a delightful cock-stand on him. Alec spoke earnestly in Italian, then whispered to the Negroes: then he called for volunteers from the audience, to assist him. Willing hands raised the boy's slim body head-high, and held him horizontal, face down: then he was handed over to the four Negroes, who held him firmly in their huge hands so that he was suspended like a white capstone supported by two black pillars: and in this position his loins lay just above the shining gold of Margot's hair. On Alec's instructions, the two armpit-fuckers put out their hands and gathered the smooth blonde locks into a soft ball around their companion's sensitive glans. The twelfth prick had now been lodged: there was a round of spontaneous applause, and a few cries of "Well done, Alec!", which he acknowledged with a theatrical bow.
The multiple fuck got under way. Alec told us that perfection. as he saw it. would entail the twelve males remaining perfectly still, with only Margot in motion. The actual performance fell a bit short of that, but was still utterly fascinating to watch.
The boy across the top lay as motionless as he could at the end of the Negroes' upthrust arms: for him, the drag of Margot's hair across his knob, as her head nodded rhythmically back and forth, was more than sufficient excitation: and he was soon gasping and panting in ecstasy as his orgasm approached. Nor was any movement necessary for the two cadets being sucked off by Margot's eager mouth. Her lips slipped up and down the lovely wedge of naked prick in regular cadence. (the resultant movement frigging off the hair-fucker above): and her skillful tongue went to work with maddening effect on their tender young knobs: and soon their sobbing cries of 'Mamma mia!' and 'Dio mio!!' were swelling the general chorus of pleasure emanating in ever-increasing volume from the pyramid of naked flesh. The four Negroes being tossed off by Margot's shuttling hands were, of course, professionals at the exhibition-game: they stood motionless astride their benches, heads back and eyes closed, their ebony bodies twitching and shuddering from time to time, and an occasional growl of pleasure rumbling in their throats.
One couldn't be sure about the two lads up Margot's cunt. it was almost impossible to see them! They certainly came very sweetly: and I should imagine that in their somewhat uncomfortable position any up-and-down movement was pretty well impossible. so probably they were being fucked by Margot going up and down on them rather than the Ocher way round. There was no doubt about the pair in her armpits: they were definitely fucking her, jerking their slim hips back and forth until they finally exploded with shrill cries of pleasure. Margot admitted afterwards that she had forgotten to rock her torso back and forth. which would have killed five birds with one stone. the pair in her armpits, the pair in her mouth, and the hair-fucker: as it was, her head-nodding left the armpit-fuckers out of it, so that they more or less had to take action themselves.
That left only the boy up her arsehole: and he was certainly not motionless. he was pounding away at his lovely target more or less from the word 'Go'. Again, it was hard to say whether or not he could have remained motionless, and still have had his orgasm. Margot (who told us she came three times during the performance) simply couldn't remember making any conscious up-and-down movement on the three pricks on which she was impaled: and quite possibly the cadet at her arse had actually saved the day. not only for himself, but also for his two companions up her cunt: for without his vigorous strokes, there might have been no 'up-and-down' at all from Margot's body.
Well, you can imagine what the final outcome looked like. Everybody gasping and shuddering and crying out. high tenor from the Italian boys, deep bass from my Negroes, and "Mmm. mm!" from Margot, whose mouth was full of prick. Spunk everywhere. in her hair, dribbling down her chin, running down her body, leaking from her two holes. Absolutely delicious, the whole things was: and it sparked off a No. 1-sized orgy that went on till the small hours of the morning.
Only Alec seemed a bit dissatisfied. I asked him why: he shook his head with a little frown, and answered. "Next time I'm going to try and get two in her hair; and surely it should be possible, somehow, to work another one in between her tits? That would make fourteen. ." Now you see why I called him 'ingenious'.
Chapter Four
Things were not always as happy and good-tempered as Alec's Twelve-fold Fuck. I told you we had three soundproof rooms in the basement, where Don Marco would hide in the narrow little passage behind the false wall, and watch the proceedings through the see-through mirrors. 'Algolagnia Alley', he used to call it. It's an odd thing, Max, this 'pain-pleasure' business. To me, it says absolutely nothing at all: but I know that you and Janice wouldn't feel satisfied without it: and certainly we had plenty of it at my place in Boston.
I'm going to tell you something that Don Marco himself arranged; and it used to take place regularly once a month, and at a very nice fee too, thank you! Don Marco sent for me one day, to come to the steward's office: and shortly afterwards, the four Negroes arrived, sweating with nervousness in the presence of the Big Boss, who could have them beaten up, or slashed, or even killed, if they stepped out of line. He told us we were to look after two personal friends of his, and that he would be very cross if they didn't get full satisfaction: and then he started going into details.
To my astonishment, his two friends were a married couple! (And imagine how even more astonished I was later when he told me privately that it was the Mayor's son and his young bride, and that therefore absolute discretion was essential. ). After less than a year of marriage, they had found that their pleasure lay in personal pain and degradation: they had met Don Marco through a mutual friend, and asked for his assistance: and 'Algolagnia Alley' was to be their solution.
He briefed my Negroes patiently for half an hour, telling them exactly what they must, and must not, do. With a paternal smile, he promised them that any attempt at funny business would see them at the bottom of Boston Harbour that very same night, with a lump of concrete round their ankles. No blackmail; no photography; just the routine he had prescribed. no more, no less. And so it was, with five $100 bills in an envelope slipped into my hand every time.
An odd, sad, unhappy business, Max: they were nice people, good-looking, well-educated, polite. I could have wished them something better for their jollies: but they seemed to enjoy what we did to them. and in any case, it was what Don Marco wanted. so that was that! This is how the routine went: it never varied. (I can't use 'He' and 'She' all the time, or 'The Man' and 'The Woman'; and I mustn't mention their real names. so let's call them 'Mr. and Mrs. M.'. M's short for Masochist, of course).
They stepped out of the elevator and walked hand-in-hand along the corridor until they reached the room whose number I had given them; then Mr. M. rapped firmly on the door. Immediately it was flung open from inside; and my four Negroes, clad only in loincloths, darted out and dragged the startled pair inside. Sam, the leader of the quartet, who acted as my unofficial 'foreman', promptly immobilized Mrs. M. by clutching her to his chest from behind, with one huge hand clamped over her mouth. The little blonde struggled helplessly in his grasp. without, of course, making any impression on the huge Negro, who must have been more than twice her weight. Meanwhile the other three swiftly overcame the token resistance put up by her husband; and within the minute he had been bound hand and foot to a stout chair, and heavily gagged. One Negro stayed on guard beside him: then she gave an inarticulate little cry, and a curious look flashed across her face. half terrified revulsion, half pleasurable anticipation. The three Negroes had discarded their loincloths; and the stiff black pricks were pointing menacingly at the slim body of their little victim. From his captivity on the chair, Mr. M. made a strangled noise behind his gag as the big hands went out towards his wife.
With infinite care and patience, moving as if in an inexorable slow-motion dream, Sam's two assistants took her by the arms from either side and held her rigid, her arms spread in a cross. Sam's hands came out: slowly, he undid the buttons of her jacket, one by one: gently, the other two maneuvered her arms so that the jacket could be slipped off and cast aside. Again the cruciform position; once more Sam's hands came out. this time, to her blouse, slipping the buttons slowly through the button-holes; once more, the maneuvering of the arms ending in the jettisoning of the blouse; and now the smooth white shoulders were laid bare. Slowly and tenderly, Sam fondled and stroked the alabaster flesh: while on the chair the husband, bound and gagged, struggled futilely, his wide-open eyes glued to the spectacle of his helpless wife.
With a little smile, Sam let his hand fall slowly to the fastening of the skirt: his strong fingers dealt expertly with button and zipper, till suddenly, with a soft rustle, the garment slipped downward to the ground. At once the other two lifted her by the arms for an instant: Sam bent swiftly, and whisked the skirt away, leaving the woman standing in her chemise. She was panting with emotion now, her beautiful eyes wide open and liquid as she stared in fascination at her strong well-muscled tormentor.
Again the little smile: and now he bent down and took hold of the chemise at the sides. Slowly he skinned it up, up. In his chair, Mr. M. made an animal noise into his gag as the long slim thighs came into view, clad in their shimmering silk: and then the sweet curves of the loins, imprisoned in a pink girdle over silken briefs: next, the smooth golden flesh of the stomach and the tiny waist: then the twin mounds of the breasts in their dainty brassiere. Now they raised her arms above her head: up, up went the chemise. past the lovely neck; past the beautiful face, mouth open and panting; over the crisp blonde curls and up the arms, where the other two took over, shifting their grip to free the chemise completely and cast it aside before lowering the arms to their previous cruciform position.
Sam knelt down on one knee, and freed the girdle-grips from the tops of the stockings: then slowly, tenderly, first the left and then the right, he ran his cupped hands down the golden thighs, over the rounded knees, down past the well-turned calves to the slim ankles, taking the stockings with him as he did so. Again the momentary lifting, by the arms: and one! two!. the high-heeled shoes were slipped from her feet, together with the silken stockings.
Next came the Playtex girdle: as this was rolled down over the curve of the hips, Sam leant forward and delicately, deliberately, licked the inner reuses of the little navel now displayed. The woman shuddered at the warm contact, and struggled futilely for an instant. The girdle fell to the floor: again the momentary lift: and now the lovely body was clad only in silken pants and brassiere. Sam stepped closer, and put his arms around her: in this position, his rigid prick lay close against the front of her pants: he worked his pelvis forward once or twice, so that the hard rod rubbed up and down against the silken fabric: she shuddered at the contact. A quick movement of his hands behind the sculptured back released the hooks of the brassiere, which fell forward as if in relief at being freed from its load. Slowly, slowly her arms were bent inwards, and the straps slipped off: then once more the cruciform position was imposed. only this time her arms were held a little back and up, so that her firm and lovely breasts were jutted proudly upwards. Sam cupped them in his two hands, and rolled them round and round: then his fingers drew together, and the beautiful coral nipples were lightly pinched and kneaded till they stood out in sharp relief. Slowly his head came down, and each nipple vanished in turn between his lips, as he tongued it gently and skillfully for a moment.
The silence of the room was broken only by the panting of the woman and the creaking of the chair in which Mr. M. was writhing helplessly as he watched the slow methodical despoliation of his wife.
Finally, with infinite care, Sam slipped the silken pants down over her hips, down her thighs, and dropped them on the floor. The little blonde was now stark-naked, and at the mercy of her three tormentors.
Chapter Five
Sam walked over to the chair, and bowed in mock humility before the husband, immobilized in his bonds and silent behind his gag. "Do you have any instructions for us, Sir?," he asked. "Should we play with Madam a little, before we continue the programme?" Mr. M. writhed impotently in his chair, his breast heaving with his suppressed emotions. "Very well, Sir," Sam went on, "since you raise no objection, we shall tease Madam a little, to help her get rid of her inhibitions. ". and again he bowed, with a tight little smile of hypocrisy on his mouth.
He moved over to a cupboard, and returned carrying a curious harness of leather and metal, which he fitted carefully onto the naked body of the helpless blonde. Two curved and thickly wadded pads rested on her shoulders: these were joined to each other by two padded and slightly curved steel bars at the ends of the shoulder-pads, one bar lying across the woman's back just below the shoulders, the other across her chest, above the breasts. From each shoulder-pad two stout steel rods sprang upwards, about fifteen inches in length; these were splayed slightly apart, and supported a steel plate some eighteen inches square. The whole contraption was lowered carefully over the blonde head, so that Mrs. M. looked as though she was peering through the bars of a cage. Then stout webbing traps were drawn tight between the ends of the two cross-bars, running around the sides of her body, high up under her armpits: and now the 'cage' was clasped firmly to her shoulders.
Around her slim waist, Sam buckled a heavy leather belt some four inches wide, cinching it so tightly that the hapless victim cried out in protest. to no avail. This belt had four stout studs with curved-up ends in it. two in front and two behind: the horizontal shoulder-bars also carried similar studs, with ends curved down. Now Sam brought out four steel rods, each carrying an eyelet at either end: two of them were plain, while the other two were each broken by a six-inch circle set close to one end.
The big Negro was humming gently to himself as he walked over to the little blonde standing motionless in the grasp of his two brawny companions, and started fitting the rods into the harness. He seemed quite oblivious of the lovely little naked body shuddering helplessly under his touch: and somehow this utter lack of interest in her as a woman always seemed to Mrs. M. to typify the depths of degradation. to be used as a sex plaything by the Negroes from a brothel in this completely impersonal way, as though she had lost all feminine attraction, even for such dregs of humanity as them. ah, that was humiliation indeed!
Laying aside the two plain rods, Sam held the other two with the circles uppermost: then he slipped the eyelets at the lower ends over the bosses in the woman's belt. The six-inch circles came exactly at the level of her breasts: and as he pushed the rods back against her body, the two lovely globes protruded enticingly through the metal rings: as the cold steel touched her soft warm flesh, she gave a little cry of distress that set her husband struggling in his bonds. A little skillful movement from the two Negroes holding her arms allowed Sam to slip the upper eyelets under and onto the upper studs: then the whole process was repeated at the back, with the plain rods: and finally her two arms were folded behind her back and fastened, wrists to elbows, over the two vertical rods.
Mrs. M. was now completely mastered by the ingenious names?. The four steel rods running between the studs at waist and shoulders were very slightly longer than the space they spanned: thus the shoulder-harness was pressed upwards, and the waist-belt downwards. and any bending of her body was virtually impossible. Her eyes widened in fear as the three big naked bodies advanced purposefully towards her: then their hands were upon her, and she cried out in anguish.
Slowly and gently, they lifted her off the floor; the long slim legs were raised, the beautiful torso in its curious cage was lowered: and suddenly Mrs. M. found herself upside down, her head an inch or so above the steel plate which now rested flat on the floor, her weight taken mainly on the shoulder-pads into which her body now pressed downwards, but partly by Sam's two assistants, each of whom now held her firmly by calf and ankle. The four long rods and leather belt prevented her body from sagging: all she could do was wait, in utter helplessness, for the programme of pain and degradation to unfold itself.
They maneuvered the steel plate carefully around so that the front of the naked body faced the crimson-faced and writhing husband in his chair. Then slowly, slowly, the long slim legs were forced apart, then forward and down, till finally they were immobilized in the powerful grasp of the two Negroes. In this position, the woman's secret parts were fully exposed in the widest possible distension. The tight-stretched buttocks curved apart so that the puckered brown anus seemed to be staring at the ceiling like some obscene and alien eye: and just beneath it the crimson cunt gaped widely at the distraught husband like a mouth wide open in ribald laughter. "Madam is very frank and open this evening, is she not?", said Sam quietly: as he spoke, he ran his fingers swiftly and expertly over the treasures lying so helpless beneath him: she shuddered at the contact, and moaned softly. "In fact, Madam is almost a public spectacle, one might say! And what does one do at public spectacles, Madam? Why, one waves flags and enjoys oneself! Very well then, Madam shall wave a flag and enjoy herself too. "
He busied himself at the cupboard for a moment: then he went over to the chair, and held something out for Mr. M's inspection. "Look, Sir!", he said, his voice all honeyed with mock deference, "I do believe Madam will enjoy this very much. !" Mr. M.'s eyes bulged in impotent anger as he looked at the instrument held delicately between Sam's thumb and forefinger. a long, slim arsehole-dildo of knobbly bamboo. A little square of white silk was affixed at one end of the rod: and the seven-inch shaft was glistening with a liberal coating of vaseline. Sam spread the little flag: and the man's eyes widened at the black embroidered skull-and-cross-bones it carried. "Rather appropriate, don't you agree, Sir?", the teasing voice went on. "It's often called the Jolly Roger, you know: and that really fits Madam to a T, doesn't it? And talking of jolly rogers, Sir, Marvin's going to fuck her today: and I know she's going to enjoy it, because he's going to wear that nice prick-ring with the little blunt spikes on it. that always sends Madam out of her skull!"
Mrs. M. cried out at this announcement: but there was a note of hopelessness in her voice. for she knew from experience that the element of free choice allowed to her husband and herself in their sad pleasures was confined to the simple decision whether or not to rap upon the designated basement door. once they had done that, the conduct of affairs passed out of their hands completely. Thus when Sam stepped over behind the little naked body perched upside down in its outlandish harness, and gently spread the puckered arsehole with his free hand, the woman's cry was one of hopeless resignation rather than of anguished protest.
Chapter Six
The dildo slipped slowly into the trim brown ring, the passage of each knobbly projection drawing a gasp of discomfort from the helpless victim. Sam pushed steadily downwards till some six inches of the shaft had disappeared within the slim body, and the little white silk flag was brushing the curving buttock on one side. Then he said with mock solicitude. "I hope you can see all right, Sir?" His hand came out, the big black forefinger pointing menacingly towards its target: but his touch was not ungentle as the finger came down onto the little red button of her clitoris.
Mr. M. watched helplessly as his wife was frigged scientifically towards her orgasm. In their early days, he had tried to avoid the spectacle of her degradation by closing his eyes and turning his head away: but this had earned him immediate and cruel punishment, so that he had learnt his lesson: and now he watched dully, hating himself for the perverse pleasure he obtained from the sight of his wife's naked body being handled by the Negroes.
The woman began to moan on a rising note as Sam's insistent finger set her body atingle: her cunt was swimming with her juices, and every now and then her arsehole twitched involuntarily, so that the little flag jerked on its deeply-planted flagpole. She started shuddering with increasing frequency, and every time Sam ran his finger down the length of her cunt, the insides of her thighs rippled in an uncontrollable nervous spasm which drew a little cry of ecstasy from her. The big Negro drove her to the very brink of orgasm, then let her fall away from her peak, until her perspiring little body was relatively still. Again he frigged her swollen clitoris, while Mr. M. panted desperately behind his gag: and now the woman began to beg for her release, gasping out urgent cries of "Oh more! More!!" and "Yes. do it to me!!" The little flagpole embedded in her arsehole was twitching more frequently now as her orgasm approached: and her cries grew more raucous with lust as Sam worked away at her quivering body.
He let her drop down from her peak for the second time: and Mr. M. shuddered in his chair at her abandoned moaning as she begged for her release. Her open cunt had turned a rich red in colour as her body prepared itself for the coming orgasm: and the whole surface glistened wetly in the harsh electric light. For the third time, Sam's forefinger advanced slowly towards its prey. and now his other hand moved out, to take the arsehole-dildo delicately 'twixt thumb and forefinger, and move gently within its sensitive lodging-place, with maddening effect.
Mrs. M. was shrieking full-throated in her ecstasy as she came: the long slim legs thrashed wildly in the grasp of the two big Negroes, and the whole surface of her cunt worked violently in time with the rhythmic throbbing of her vagina as she creamed. Simultaneously, her arsehole was pulsing vigorously, with twofold effect. first, on the tormented blonde herself, who found that the presence of the knotty dildo in her sensitive rectum increased the intensity of her orgasm almost beyond bearing; and second, on the dildo, which jerked rhythmically back and forth, so that the little silken Jolly Roger was kept in constant motion throughout the long-drawn-out exhausting spend.
Sam had made good his promise: Madam was waving a flag and enjoying it.
When the pretty little cunt was still at last, Mrs. M's three tormentors set her on her feet once more. Then the Negro called Marvin. (who was to fuck her later on, so Sam had said). set about the task of stripping her of the steel and leather harness. though of course her arms remained strapped behind her back: and while he was doing this, Sam led the other one over to the chair where Mr. M. sat bound and gagged under the eyes of his brawny guard.
He made some token resistance when they freed him from his bonds; but he was powerless in the hands of my three professional bruisers: and despite his protests they soon had him stripped naked as a jay. For a moment they held him stationary; and a pleasing spectacle he made, his slim, athletic body panting with emotion and his handsome prick still standing stiff from the excitement of his wife's despoliation by the Negroes. From past experience, he knew that his turn had now arrived to drain the cup of humiliation to the dregs. and this indeed was literally true! The three big Negroes forced him to his knees: then bent him backwards till his head was resting on the floor: and in this position they tied his arms along his legs, elbows at his ankles and wrists at his knees, so that he was trussed up like a chicken. The highest part of his body was his rigid prick, standing stiffly up towards his navel: but in his backward-bent position, the big red shaft lay almost horizontal.
Then Sam nodded to his assistant guarding Mrs. M.: he brought her forward and placed her straddling her husband's head, then made her squat, so that her brimming cunt and arsehole still glistening with the grease from the knobbly dildo were thrusting impudently at her helpless husband, a few inches above his eyes: and every now and then, a black finger probed inquisitively into the red recesses of her cunt, so that she cried out at the sensation: and Mr. M. found that the sight of his wife's nakedness being fingered by the Negro was enough to keep him in a state of permanent erection. Sam drew up a chair, and sat leisurely between the man's widespread knees: he raised one big black foot, to bring it down gently onto the vulnerable underside of the stiff prick lying defenceless along the taut-stretched stomach: then he started rubbing the ball of his foot up and down along the sensitive shaft.
The man groaned softly as he was frigged steadily towards his orgasm in this obscene and humiliating way: when he entered the 'danger zone', and his prick began to twitch ominously, he jerked his head up several times with his tongue thrust stiffly out, in a vain attempt to lick his wife's cunt displayed so temptingly above his head: but the distance was too great. At Sam's nod, one of his assistants produced a paper dixie cup, and held it over the end of Mr. M's knob, now swollen to the maximum and purplish in colour: Sam deftly tickled the soft underskin up near the tip, using his toes for a few seconds: then he pressed down firmly with the ball of his foot and rubbed the quivering prick with three or four rapid strokes. With a gasping cry, Mr. M. stiffened into orgasm, the muscles on his back-bent thighs and stomach standing out in sharp relief as he Pumped a copious flood of milky spunk into the waiting dixie cup.
Swiftly, Mrs. M. was raised to her feet and taken to one side where Marvin held her firmly, facing the kneeling body of her husband. Then Mr. M's arms were released. only to be forced up behind his back with both wrists between his shoulder-blades, so that once again he was powerless to defend himself. Then Sam held the dixie cup to his lips.
On their first visit to my place, the husband had protested vigorously against this revolting piece of degradation. (Don Marco was really quite imaginative, Max! But wait till I tell you what happened to me, at the end!) The savage whipping he received on that occasion taught him that resistance was futile. So now, he closed his eyes and shuddered: but his mouth opened, and his head went back, as Sam tipped the slimy, salty mouthful out of the cup and into his unwilling mouth. As he swallowed his own spunk in one convulsive gulp, his wife, watching wide-eyed, burst into a sudden fit of shuddering: for she knew that now their savage, sombre programme changed from so-called pleasure into pain. and pain not 'so-called' in the very least, but pain that was very real and utterly degrading in its intensity. Then she cried out despairingly as Sam and one of his henchmen swung round towards her, leaving one man to master her husband: then the three big black naked bodies closed round hers.
Chapter Seven
Well, I won't bore you with the details, Max, because of course girls get whipped here in the Club, so you know all about it. Mrs. M. soon found herself strapped out in a taut X, ankles tied down to ring-bolts set in the floor, and wrists stretched by ropes from ceiling-pulleys. The Negro guarding her husband was sitting on the floor behind him by now, and had him completely powerless in a full Nelson, so that all he could do was sit and watch. and despise himself as his prick rose stiff and twitching at the spectacle of the three Negroes caning the naked body of his wife.
They always used an ordinary thin 'schoolmaster's cane': and I remember Alec once telling us. (he'd been at one of the best English Public Schools, of course). that 'six on the arse' from one of those canes would reduce tough characters of sixteen and seventeen to the verge of tears, and possibly break the skin here and there. even through trousers: and I seem to recall Ian Fleming's James Bond saying exactly the same thing in one of his books. Well, Mrs. M. used to get eighteen strokes, naked. six on her left thigh, six on her right, and six across her arse. Invariably, she was shrieking from about the third stroke onwards: and invariably, there were little rivulets of blood running down her thighs when the Negroes had finished with her. for Don Marco had forbidden them to be gentle with her: (not that they would have been, for she made a most stirring spectacle tied out in that naked X; and you must remember that Sam and his boys were getting free what the customers had to pay $1000 for, so they always showed marked enthusiasm for their work!) Sometimes the pain would make her pee herself: and then Mr. M. would struggle in his guard's grasp and shout futile obscenities.
She was hanging limply from her wrists when they finally took her down, her arse and thighs an angry red, with the livid weals of the caning standing out all bruised and purple. Sam. (who had kept her two lovely buttocks for himself). gathered her into his arms and carried her over to the couch which was to be the scene of her next ordeal. Marvin lay down on his back in readiness for her: as promised, he was wearing the prick-ring. a band of thin metal one inch wide, covered with blunt truncated spikes or studs: in a trice, the little blonde had been mounted kneeling astride the big black body; then her loins were forced down by willing hands. Her husband gasped in anguish as he watched the stiff black cock with its obscene ring slide slowly into the pretty quim: Mrs. M. herself cried out loudly under the shattering sensation of the metal studs moving deep into her sensitive vagina. then there was a shriek of protest as the second big prick disappeared into her body. this time into her unwilling anus. Finally Sam himself took post, kneeling astride Marvin's head and twining one hand into the woman's blonde locks, to force her head down onto his throbbing cock.
And so they took her, all three at once, while her husband watched and wept with shame. shame at the spoliation of his wife, shame at his own excitement at the spectacle, shame at the masochistic cravings that drove them repeatedly to such depths of degradation. She came once, very early on, under the maddening influence of the blunt studs reaming the inner surface of her vagina as the strong black hands sent her shuttling up and down the two impaling pricks: then she settled down to what she knew from past experience to be her vital task. sucking-off of the prick within her mouth. on this occasion, Sam's. This time she was successful. indeed, almost perfectly so: for all four reached their orgasms simultaneously. the three Negroes groaning in ecstasy as they pumped their hot spunk into the perspiring white body with the angry stripes on thighs and buttocks, and the woman gasping and shuddering as she creamed for the third time that evening. At the end, Marvin's twitchings created such havoc with the blunt spikes inside her cunt that she threw back her head and howled in ecstasy like a dog baying the moon: Sam had not yet finished coming, and the abrupt removal of her mouth resulted in his final spurts shooting out onto her beautiful face, to trickle down in slowly-drying slimy streaks of rich milky spunk.
Finally they released her. (except for her arms, which you will remember had all this time been strapped behind her back). and left her in the care of Marvin, who moved her over so that she could get a good view of Sam and his assistants stringing her husband up in the X position, ready to be caned.
. which he then was, with the same brutal efficiency that she herself had so painfully experienced. six strokes on either thigh, and six across the quivering pain-racked arse. these last again from Sam. Strive as he might to maintain self-control, Mr. M. was quite unable to withstand the cruel biting pain of the eighteen strokes crashing home onto his naked flesh: and before the end of the punishment he was screaming with pain no less loudly than his wife, who now stood passive in Marvin's grip, watching open-mouthed as her husband writhed in his bonds, the tears of agony running freely down his cheeks. He was weak-kneed with pain when they released him; and he offered no resistance as his arms were strapped behind his back and he was forced to his knees. He cried out in revulsion when they drove his body down into a ball, so that he must bend at knees and hips: but they paid him no heed and continued with their task, trussing him firmly with a broad webbing band round his body, under his knees and round over his back, so that his naked arse with its bleeding stripes jutted out behind, motionless and utterly vulnerable.
His guard stepped forward ebony prick gleaming with vaseline: and slowly, inexorably, Mr. M. was buggered with seven inches of hard hot cock. Then the big Negro started reaming away inside the tight passage. slowly at first, but then quicker and quicker as his lust mounted: and soon the man was crying out with the pain as his arsehole was driven rapidly in and out under the Negro's powerful strokes. Mrs. M. shuddered as she saw the big black body stiffen into orgasm and heard the Negro's growl of pleasure. She pictured the hot spunk thudding home deep into her husband's bowels as the nadir of humiliation. as indeed it was: but to the man himself, groaning in his enforced womb-position as his buggerer's crisp bush scraped painfully against his raw buttocks, the shaming orgasm came as a blessed relief.
Then man and wife were brought face to face and tied out in X position, about six feet apart from one another. They gazed helplessly into each other's eyes as Sam and Marvin busied themselves at the cupboards. to reappear each with a firm green nettle-birch clasped in rubber-gloved right hand. The new torment got under way, with the two Negroes plying their fiery birches lightly and methodically over the fronts of the helpless bodies. The two victims writhed in pain as the terrible itching spread over their tortured flesh: the woman's breasts jogged provocatively from side to side as she shook her shoulders in a futile attempt to find relief: then a shrewd blow from Marvin sent them an angry red, and covered the smooth soft flesh with lumpy nettle-rash, so that she cried out in sudden pain. Then it was Mr. M's turn to suffer, as Sam drove his birch up between the parted legs, rubbing the fiery green leaves across the tender flesh of the inner thighs, and all over the wrinkled surface of the sack, so that he shouted out loud in pain.
When the fronts of both bodies were a uniform angry red, the birches were discarded. Then Mrs. M. was released, to be immediately impaled upon her husband's prick, all red and rigid from Sam's tender ministrations with the nettles: but she was not allowed to scratch herself, and her hands were brought round behind her husband's back and there tied together. Immediately she set to work squirming and rubbing herself against him, in an effort to assuage the itching of her body: and when Mr. M. in turn was released, to be pinioned similarly with his arms around his wife's naked body. then there was a vigorous fuck indeed, as both partners worked their bodies urgently against each other. The good work was speeded by the four Negroes, who had armed themselves with long thin-thonged whips. not heavy enough to cause a cutting wound, but certainly capable of inflicting a stinging little bite when flicked against naked flesh: and this encouragement went on from all four sides, so that whichever way they turned another pair of thongs was waiting to hiss in at naked flank and buttock. until finally the unhappy pair achieved a joyless orgasm together, and thus won their release from their tormentors. until next month came round, when they would return again for a duplication of the evening's agonizing 'pleasures'.
Well, Max, I've taken rather a lot of time on Mr. and Mrs. M., I'm afraid. But I wanted you to see the sort of man Don Marco really was. His programme for the M's was bad enough. wasn't it?: but as I say, you wait till I tell you what he did to me in the end!
Chapter Eight
One of our more amusing sideshows was the production of blue films. The Organization had this down to a fine art, and the general standard of photography, lighting, etc, was really surprisingly high. The acting was what you might call 'natural', of course. but none the worse for that! The actors themselves never cost us a penny: and here's how we did it. Each of The Organization's big classy houses was 'paired off' with another house in some quite different part of the country. during my time, our 'pair' was Houston. Each house of the pair made from four to six films each year, depending on the arrangements between the pair, and sent them over to the other city straight away. so that our Boston-made films were never shown in Boston, only in Houston; and vice versa. With this degree of anonymity being guaranteed, we could attract the better-looking young studs among our clientele by offering them an evening's entertainment free in return for their services: and the girls, of course, came from our own staff and so cost us nothing anyway.
It was a very practical arrangement, and highly successful all the time I was in charge: we sent down a steady stream of one-hour films showing our 'Boston Bitches Being Beautifully Buggered': and in return we got some spectacular performances of the 'Houston Harlots Having Hearty Humpings'. (you will doubtless recognize Alec's light-hearted touch in the above descriptions!). which always went down very well with our clientele.
I'll give you a typical sample of the sort of thing we used to put out. This particular film was called 'The Education of Ella'; and Ella was supposed to be a shy inexperienced blonde newly married to Frank. (who also didn't know too much). They'd decided to put themselves in the hands of their sophisticated friends Don and Jenny, for a proper sex-education; and the film opened to show the four of them having a preparatory dinner in Don and Jenny's apartment. ("Ella" was played by Karen, a very good-looking blonde number of ours with a fantastic staying-power: "Jenny" was a delightful brunette pixie with a lovely figure: and "Don" and "Frank" were scions of a couple of Boston's bluest-blooded families).
Ella left the table for some reason or other: and Don took the opportunity to spike her drink with just a pinch of Spanish Fly. 'to get her going', as he said: and naturally, the script called for ready acquiescence from Ella's husband Frank. (Karen was under the impression that her drink had actually been doctored with 'make-believe' Spanish Fly: and she really hammed it up in the best traditions of 'The Perils of Pauline', before she finally drained the 'poisoned chalice' to the dregs. . She discovered. alas, too late!. that we had used real Spanish Fly. with the result that Ella turned out to be one of the randiest little bitches imaginable. ).
The action shifted to Don and Jenny's bedroom: and by now Ella was definitely 'rarin' to go'. though at first she was a little bashful at the thought of stripping off in front of her friends. (This bit called for some real acting on Karen's part: she was one of the more willing performers in the house anyway, and in addition was beginning to feel her Spanish Fly by now: and she found it very hard to show the necessary degree of reluctance!) But Jenny showed her the way: and soon Ella's trim blonde-bushed figure was naked as a jay.
In friendly woman-to-woman fashion, Jenny began Ella's instruction by describing the major erogenous zones of the female body. nipples, vulva, vagina, clitoris, and anus. and of course she illustrated them very explicitly on her own body). She stressed that Ella must allow Frank complete access to these zones: then she instructed her to lie down on the bed. where she explained the art of 69, and then demonstrated it, with herself in the top position: as she began tickling Ella's little brown anus, Frank watched enthralled, while Don helped out by teasing Jenny's arsehole. This made Jenny suck vigorously at Ella's widely-distended secret parts, so that the blonde beauty started twitching and groaning in ecstasy. At Don's urging, she repaid the compliment, and set to work on Jenny's cunt with her eager mouth. Soon the two girls were at fever-pitch. Ella more so than Jenny. (who was supposed to be the more expert of the two girls: and besides, Ella's Spanish Fly was now beginning to take hold. both in the script, and in reality!!) When Ella's twitching cunt began to go 'Schlop! Schlop!' inside, Jenny left her. with obvious reluctance. and motioned Frank into action. He entered her swiftly, in the traditional position, and set to work fucking her with vigour. Then Don and Jenny raised her legs and crossed them high up on Frank's back, so that she was in the 'deep-fuck' position. She had no hope of holding out for very long, and within a few seconds she was shuddering and moaning in the grip of a mighty orgasm. (again, this was quite clearly genuine, and not merely 'scripted'): Frank managed to control himself, and withdrew from the lovely naked body without coming. Then the camera moved in for a close-up of Ella's cunt still twitching in the aftermath of her glorious spend, the half-parted lips glistening with Frank's fore-juice, and with the secretions from her own vagina.
After a pause, Jenny and Don continued the instruction by demonstrating several of the 'positions', with Don underneath: Jenny explained that 'anything goes' in love-making, and emphasized that Ella must experiment freely with Frank. In her demonstration, she started by impaling herself in the kneeling position with her back to Don, while Don leant forward and frigged her gently on the clitoris. Next, she remounted him, lying face to face, and showed Ella 'legs between' and 'legs outside'. Finally, she mounted him in the 'forward-facing kneel'; at first, her body was upright. but Don was getting impatient. as indeed was Jenny herself!. and he grasped her by the nipples and drew her down onto his body. Frank. (who had been teasing Ella's nipples as she recovered from her spend). could not contain himself at the sight of the target so temptingly displayed, and rushed forward to bury his tongue in Jenny's arsehole. Not unnaturally, the little brunette jerked herself about with vigour under this unexpected but delicious attack: and soon Ella's mouth opened in fascination as Jenny and Don reached their climax: her eyes sparkled as she watched the magnificent spectacle of their writhing, groaning dual orgasm.
It was obvious that Frank's turn was overdue. Ella. who had shown a very speedy recovery, doubtless due to her little dose of Spanish Fly. stepped forward eagerly to her husband's side. Jenny pointed out that Frank had already fucked her into orgasm, and suggested that this time Ella should practice some of the '69' tricks that Jenny had showed her earlier on: Ella accepted very willingly. But first, Jenny sank to her knees in front of Frank, and demonstrated the art of sucking off a prick, until Ella was satisfied she knew just what to do. (This bit was really quite ridiculous to an insider! Karen was one of the most accomplished spunk-swallowers we had ever had in the house: and to see her, as 'Ella', accepting instruction in the art was enough to make one laugh. ).
Then Frank lay down across the bed, in the under-position, and Ella mounted him, her blonde hair falling like a waterfall between his parted legs as his rigid prick vanished into her mouth. Jenny reminded her that she must swallow his spunk down when he came; then informed her that, in addition, she was going to be made to 'wave the flag' during the battle. This meant nothing to Ella, until Jenny introduced a slim, well-greased arse-hole-dildo into the smiling brown orifice lying defenceless between the parted buttocks. The little blonde jerked in surprise, but Frank held her firm: and soon the gentle in-and-out motion imparted by Jenny to the smooth rod implanted in her rectum had Ella writhing and moaning like one possessed. Then Don got down between Jenny's parted legs, and tongued her gently on the clitoris: in her excitement, Jenny worked the dildo faster and faster, which made Ella attack Frank's prick ever more vigorously. Their climax came soon after: and Jenny and Don broke off to enjoy the spectacle of Ella in action on all fronts. her pretty mouth going 'Slurp! Slurp! Slurp!' as she swallowed down Frank's copious spend, her whole body jerking convulsively in the throes of her own mighty orgasm, and the little flag on the end of the arsehole-dildo waving wildly as her anus contracted in a rhythmic series of uncontrollable twitches-Reel One ended with all four actors 'taking five' for a much-needed restorative drink of iced champagne.
Chapter Nine
Reel Two opened with Ella once again ready for more 'instruction'. She kissed Jenny, telling her how much she was enjoying herself: then, in a stage whisper, she said that Don was the only one she hadn't been with yet: if her husband Frank had no objection, would Jenny very much mind. ? Jenny agreed readily, with an inward smile: she knew just what was in store for Ella! With a shy glance at Don, Ella repeated her request to Frank: he laughed, and nodded permission, with an affectionate little smack on her bottom. Don grinned with pleasure, and accepted the invitation very willingly.
He had Ella kneel on the bed, her legs apart: then he told her to lean forward onto her hands, and showed her how he could penetrate her cunt from behind, in classic 'dog-fashion'. Then he withdrew, and pulled her buttocks back, telling her to lower herself to the bed: he reminded her that she was now in the upper "69" position, which she had sampled with her husband a few minutes previously. "So we won't do that again: what we will do is this!". and into the little brown arsehole went his rigid prick, which Jenny had just liberally anointed with vaseline. Ella gasped in dismay. she found some difference between the slim rod of the arse-hole-dildo and Don's big swollen member: but Frank and Jenny held her torso down, as Don mastered her with firm hands on her hips. When she had quieted down, Don slowly slid his prick in to the hilt, and stretched a long arm round to tease her clitoris: while above, Frank introduced a cunning tongue into the inner recesses of her ear, and Jenny drew her polished finger-nails slowly, maddeningly, along the naked back.
Under these combined stimuli, Ella gave herself up very willingly to this new and strange perverse pleasure: and before very long, she was moaning above, and going 'Schlop! Schlop! Schlop!' below, as Don's skillful finger kneaded her sensitive button till she felt her whole body go taut with lust. She squealed in ecstasy as her climax struck: her buttocks writhed, and her arsehole gripped tightly at Don's slowly-moving tool. nip! nip! nip! in regular cadence, as she enjoyed her delicious spend. Don did not lag far behind: three sharp jerks brought three gasps from Ella: then bang!. he shot his load deep into the warm and velvety passageway of the panting, spending blonde.
Clearly, it was time for Frank and Jenny to join the 'mate-swapping' act. They chose a serious "69", with Jenny underneath: Frank mounted her, and bent her legs right back: then he rested on his elbows, which lay outside her thighs. Don explained this variation to Ella, and pointed out that Jenny was now immobilized in the widest open position possible. as the camera so clearly showed. Then Frank set about her secret treasures with a will, tongue shuttling rapidly along the open cunt from clitoris to vagina, and fingers teasing the defenseless arsehole till it twitched almost ceaselessly.
Don whispered quickly in Ella's ear, and handed her the arsehole-dildo: with a wicked grin, the little blonde greased it well, then slid it carefully into her husband's arsehole. In and out! In and out! Frank shuddered under the unexpected attack, and redoubled his onslaught on poor Jenny. 'Schlop! Schlop! Schlop!' went her cunt: and in her turn she stepped up her attack on Frank's throbbing prick, inflamed by the sight of the flagpole reaming relentlessly in and out of his arsehole, just above her eyes. Within seconds, both of them came furiously: and the two intertwined bodies heaved and shuddered, as each pumped their juices into the other's avid mouth. They broke away at last, exhausted: then all four 'took five' again, and refreshed themselves anew with more champagne.
After all were refreshed, Jenny held a whispered colloquy with Don. (with the microphone being well within earshot, of course!). at which it was agreed that the next stage of Ella's instruction should be a little practical Lesbianism. Jenny produced a large strap-on dildo made of pink rubber, and attached it to the somewhat surprised Ella, passing the straps between her legs and around her waist, and making adjustments till the rubber prick stood out from the blonde bush at a 'natural' angle. She explained to Ella. quite falsely. that this next piece of instruction was intended to show her what a man felt when he fucked a woman, so that she could 'understand better': at the same time, Jenny herself would demonstrate exactly what sort of movements the woman should make, to increase the man's enjoyment. Ella seemed quite satisfied. (Karen, of course, would have preferred to see the lovely big dildo in her own cunt, which was now itching maddeningly under the influence of the Spanish Fly).
Jenny lay down in the ready position: and, somewhat clumsily, Ella lodged her unnatural weapon in the moist cunt so freely offered to her: then she gasped in momentary alarm as Jenny locked her legs tightly together, high up on the blonde girl's slim naked back. Under the instructions of the two men, the Lesbian rape got under way. Slowly, Ella accustomed herself to the motion of the male thrust, and soon the big pink rubber dildo was fucking Jenny to serious intent. Don helped out by tickling the backs of Jenny's thighs, while Frank slid his hand up between Ella's legs and impaled her on his thumb. Now the blonde beauty really set to work: and soon Jenny felt the familiar tingling to her loins. (The little brunette's gasps of pleasure, and her frantic hip-jerkings, were in fact no longer simulated, but had become quite real). She drove her tongue deep into Ella's mouth: Don's maddening tickling of her thighs took second place to the sensation in her clitoris, all defenseless against the thrusting attack of the crisp blonde bush. scritch! scritch! scritch!: and suddenly she came, in a short, fierce orgasm that drew an 'Aaaargh!' of pleasure from her lips, and made Ella's face light up with lustful pride.
The pretty blonde was all excited by her 'victory' over Jenny, and cried. "Me next! Me next!," as she rid herself of the dildo. The two men whispered together for a moment, then stepped forward and lifted her to the bed just vacated by Jenny. Don lay down, and they had her mount him in 'forward kneel' position: Frank held her firmly by the hips, and slowly, gently, took her in the arsehole. She cried out in fear as the 'sandwich' went into effect: but soon the two rods rubbing against the thin and tight-stretched membrane between vagina and rectum had her squealing with pleasure. She was quite unable to withstand the unbelievable sensation coursing through her veins, and burst into a paroxysm of frantic shouting as her orgasm approached.
She came with shattering effect, and lapsed into near-unconsciousness at the intensity of the sensation. Triumphantly, her two tormentors brought themselves to climax; and the whole bed creaked and shuddered under the impact of the triple orgasm as the two men shot their hot spunk deep into the spending girl.
Released and rested, Ella confessed she had never dreamed such pleasure was possible. The Spanish Fly was still at work; and soon she was asking. "Give me more!" The other three shook their heads: Frank said they must go soon. it was time for Jenny and Don to be left in peace: he promised that once they were at home he would attend to her himself. Ella pouted and sighed that she liked it so much where they were, with everybody all friends together. The others whispered briefly among themselves, then announced. "Just once more. for you alone!" They laid her across the bed, then pulled her bodily backwards until she was standing on her shoulders on the floor, with head bent forward. Don and Frank swung her legs back, and opened them wide: supporting her in this position, they lowered their heads in unison. Don's darting tongue disappeared into her trim little arse-hole, while Frank's mouth played vigorously over the widespread cunt: two skillful hands set up a maddening tickling along her inner thighs. Below, Jenny knelt down and nibbled at the coral tips of the firm breasts, tickling her in the arm-pits at the same time.
Under these combined ministrations, the little blonde went nearly demented. She gasped; she squealed; she wriggled vainly against the strong hands of the two men; her madly-working cunt began literally quacking. 'Schlop! Schlop! Schlop!". At a sudden word from Don, all activity ceased; and the beautiful blonde body slowly came to rest, and a sigh of pleasure broke from the parted lips. The three skilled partners went to work again, carefully, gently, inexorably: and again Ella was brought to the very edge of orgasm, moaning and twitching, eyes tight closed and mouth open in a rictus of pleasure. Jenny revelled in the feel of the hard little nipples against her tongue. She nibbled lovingly at them. now right, now left. She could feel that their lovely victim was very near her spend.
Again the sharp command from Don: and once more the tiring body slowly sank back into immobility. Faintly, almost humbly, Ella begged them. "Oh, please! This time. ." They nodded to one another: then all three of them went to work with redoubled vigour. Around Don's darting tongue, the little brown ring seemed to be popping ceaselessly in and out: Jenny had the sweet nipples almost half an inch long: while Frank was twanging the swollen clitoris 'twixt tongue and teeth. Ella was sobbing gently, on the floor: but up above, her other mouth was almost shouting. 'Schlop! Schlop! Schlop! SCHLOP!!".
At last, they allowed her the relief she craved: and she burst into an orgasm of unparallelled vigour, sobbing and laughing and twitching and jerking until they could hardly hold her, for what seemed minutes on end.
She rested motionless for a few minutes on the bed: then she and Frank dressed themselves and left, with many a promise of another session of instruction in a few days' time.
The film ended with Don and Jenny, alone at last, smiling affectionately at each other: then he drew her slowly to the bed and laid her on her back. He mounted her in a "69" position, then drew back her thighs for 'deep 69': as his head went down, Jenny slowly opened her mouth for his prick, and brought a slim finger up to his arsehole.
(Even after her five orgasms, Karen was still so randy from her Spanish Fly that I had to send her down to give an exhibition with Sam and Marvin. They made her ream their arseholes with her tongue, then sandwiched her three times running till she fainted. I let her stay in bed the whole of the following day. ).
Chapter Ten
I've often wondered whether The Organization went ahead and installed the Maximum Sensation Machine in our house after Don Marco's death. I know he had almost decided to take the plunge, as a result of my favourable report after my trip to California: and our accountant swore the thing was economically sound. but I suppose I'd better begin at the beginning!
Two or three months before his death, Don Marco had an old friend of his come and spend the week-end. Don Luigi, who was The Organization's 'baron' out in California. Don Marco brought him round to my place for an evening's relaxation: and after watching a particularly energetic exhibition by one of the girls, who was trying to impress the 'big bosses', Don Luigi smiled paternally and said. "I'd like to see that pretty red-headed cunt given a work-out on the Maximum Sensation Machine!" Don Marco and I had to confess we didn't know what he was talking about: So he told us.
The Maximum Sensation Machine was the brainchild of some 'mad scientist' Hungarian inventor out in Los Angeles: as Don Luigi described it, it was a series of mechanical devices specifically designed to create maximum sensation in a woman's body. partly pleasure, partly pain: and the various effects could be controlled and blended in differing degrees for each 'patient', the object being to stimulate her erotically to the peak of her potential, so that she had repeated orgasms of amazing intensity and duration. Don Luigi had already installed one in his top house in Los Angeles, and had a second machine on order for San Francisco: and he upbraided Don Marco for being behind the times. it was disgraceful, he said, that we in Boston should not even have heard of the machine.
Don Marco's questioning elicited the information that the machine cost ten-thousand dollars installed, and should pay for itself within the year. West Coast customers were proving quite ready to pay fifty dollars extra, to give the house-girl they had bought for the evening a session on the machine: and the Los Angeles figures for three months showed that a target of two-hundred sessions throughout the twelve-month period was in no way unrealistic. All we would need was a fair-sized room. (and here, he suggested we should consider using one of our basement flagellation rooms: how many times, he wondered, did we use all three at once. ?). a supply of electricity, a small air compressor, and some hydraulic power. (this last being really the only unusual feature. apart from the concept of the machine itself, of course!). If we were at all interested, why not send someone out to see the machine in action. ?
Rather to my surprise, Don Marco did seem quite interested. I would have thought ten-thousand dollars was a bit steep, but he seemed to have every confidence in Don Luigi's judgement. Anyway, ten days later I flew out to Los Angeles at Don Marco's instruction, and made my way to the house where the Maximum Sensation Machine was installed. Don Luigi had given the necessary orders to his Madam. (a big brassy creature not at all ladylike! She would never have done for Boston!). and I was given a pleasant welcome, and made quite comfortable. I was to stay for two or three days, see the machine in action a few times, and make a proper evaluation for Don Marco.
Madam Vera proposed that we should use just the pleasure devices for the first session: she would put her best 'stayer' on the machine. "and the little bitch'll cream herself silly. she'll come about nine times in an hour and a half, with no trouble at all. you'll see!" For the second session, she suggested we combine business with pleasure. one of her girls had to be punished, and we could use her as a 'demonstration guinea-pig'. which sounded a good idea. Then next day she'd get one of her steady clients to come in and give an exhibition of the machine as it should be used. He was quite an expert; always used the same girl, and he'd got it down to the point where he could make her do more or less anything. just by manipulating a few knobs and switches! He'd be only too pleased to give us a show. he'd be getting his fun for nothing, since Don Luigi had said I was to have the best of everything and no expense spared, so he'd give us something special.
Well, she took me down to the 'The Playroom'. as they called it. after lunch: and I spent some time looking over the apparatus, and taking a good many detailed photographs of it, as Don Marco had instructed. It was an odd-looking contraption.
There was a stout metal column rising some three feet from the floor: rigidly fixed to the top of this column was a shell of hard plastic, shaped to fit a girl's body from the top of her head down to the small of her back: this shell was padded with foam rubber. Short arm-troughs projected from the body of the shell, in such a position that when the girl was placed in it her arms were spread wide above her head. Fastening straps were provided, to hold her firmly into the shell. one across the stomach, above the navel; one across the shoulders, above the breasts; one at the end of each arm-trough, to run across the inside of the elbow; and a 'fore-headed-strap', to hold her head rigid in the headpiece. The whole shell slanted head downwards; and the two arm-troughs 'pointed' to two small columns set in the floor about eighteen inches away, each furnished with a stout leather wrist-cuff. I Some three feet from the other end of the shell, a second metal column rose from the floor: this one was about five feet high. It carried a curved metal bar, somewhat like a bent bow: if an imaginary bow-string were being drawn, the end of the plastic body-shell would coincide with the archer's hand. The plane of the curve was tilted slightly downwards, so that the eye saw a straight line running from this bar set five feet above the floor, along the surface of the body-shell, and down the arm-troughs to the wrist-cuffs, which were about two feet above floor level. At either end of the metal bar were two curious leather *boots', set on top of the bar: these carried stout ankle-straps, and rack-and-pinion devices allowed them to be wound closer together or farther apart along the bar. and also nearer to or farther away from the body-shell. Most of the sole of each boot had been cut away; and it was obvious that when the girl had been placed in the machine, the soles of her feet would be quite protected.
At this point the girl for the 'pleasure exhibition' was brought into The Playroom by three attendants. She was a good-looking redhead. (Madam Vera told me that in pretty well every use of repute on the West Coast, every second girl's a failed Hollywood starlet). and when she slipped off her house-coat and stood naked beside the machine, she was really a splendid sight. Madam Vera told her, quite conversationally that she wanted her to wear a gag. "Increases the effect, if they can't make a noise!," she said to me in an aside. The girl nodded nonchalantly, and let the attendants fit a solid-looking rubber gag into her mouth. Then one of the men looked inquiringly at Madam Vera: she nodded, and the three attendants swung round towards the naked redhead.
They lifted her off the floor and laid her on her back in the body-shell, raising her arms above her head to fit into the arm-troughs. One man supported the lower half of her body. the shell ended at the small of her back. until her wrists had been secured in the wrist-cuffs: then he pulled on her legs, so as to stretch her body to the maximum, while the others strapped her into the shell at stomach, shoulders, elbows, and forehead. Then her legs were separated, and each foot was fitted into its boot, and the ankle-straps drawn tight. Finally, adjustments were made to the position of the boots, by means of the rack-and-pinion devices.
The girl was now lying tautly stretched and immobile in the machine, naked and gagged, with arms and legs widespread. She looked very vulnerable. as indeed she was. From wrists to ankles, the front of her body was completely unprotected, save for the straps across stomach, shoulders, and elbows: underneath, she was unprotected from the small of the back downwards.
Chapter Eleven
The pleasure devices were now brought out and installed one by one: some of these ingenious machines were driven electrically, others hydraulically, others by compressed air. First came the armpit-ticklers. two portable stands which were placed one on each side of the shell, and fitted into slots in the floor. Each stand carried a flat wheel of ostrich feathers: this wheel lay not quite horizontally, but tilted to match the slight downward angle of the girl's body as it lay in the shell: and it was positioned so that the feathers brushed slowly, relentlessly, along the girl's armpits: the wheel turned just above the rim of the body-shell, and the feathers tickled the side of her body just below the armpit, the armpit itself, and an inch or so along her upper arm. Tickle. tickle. gently. gently: and the girl was strapped so tightly that she couldn't even wiggle.
Next, the foot-ticklers: these were worked by two electric motors clipped onto the curved metal bar on the taller column. Again, the wheel principle was used. this time vertical: each wheel carried four equally-spaced tufts of semi-stiff bristles; and the device was positioned so that the tufts were dragged slowly down the sole of the girl's foot, held rigid in its leather boot. Tickle. pause: tickle. pause: on and on. and we could see the girl shriek-mg with helpless laughter behind her gag. Now the nipple-teasers were installed. An arched steel bar was fitted between the two armpit-tickler stands: this bridged the girl's body, about five inches above her, more or less over the strap that pinioned her shoulders, just above her naked breasts. The bar carried two boxes: Madam Vera told me that the mechanism inside was incredibly delicate and complicated. all cogs and cams and God knows what! I certainly don't pretend to have understood it. and I won't attempt to describe it. all that need be said is that from each box two thin steel strips projected downwards, to the nipple underneath: these strips lay face-to-face, and were spring-loaded so that they pressed firmly against each other: the end of each strip broadened out into an oval, faced on the inside with thin corrugated rubber. When these were sprung apart, and released gently onto the girl's nipple, they gripped it firmly, but without pain.
In motion, the effect of the device was three-fold. First, the ends of the steel 'fingers' moved back and forth against each other, like a thumb and forefinger sampling a piece of material: next, the pair of strips moved vertically up and down in regular cadence, with a travel of some two-thirds of an inch: finally, the ends moved round and round in a circle perhaps two inches in diameter. The effect on the girl must have been quite something: her nipple was being 'fingered' back and forth; pulled gently up and down; and taken round and round in a two-inch circle. all at the same time.
Next came the automatic frigger: the base of this was an arched bar of spring-steel, ending in rubber-padded 'hands': the bar was sprung into the open position, the 'hands' were placed gripping the girl's hip-bones, then the bar was released, leaving the two 'hands' clasping her firmly by the hips: since the bar was attached directly to her body, she could wriggle and jerk as she pleased. the bar stayed firm, and did not shift in relation to her body. A small machine like an electric kitchen-mixer was then attached to the centre of the bar: from it projected a thin steel rod ending in a rubber thimble which was adjusted so as to press lightly on the girl's unprotected clitoris. Switching on produced a constant vibration, and a tiny circular movement. and it was quite clear, from the redhead's reaction in the short time that Madam Vera took to demonstrate the device to me, that a prolonged use of this attachment would soon drive any girl wild with ecstasy.
The final device was the mechanical dildo. a heavy metal column, set in floor-notches, standing high up in the middle of the girl's widespread thighs. A short coiled spring on top of the column carried the actual machine itself: this was connected by rigid steel bars to the two 'hands' gripping the girl's hips. thus, however much she tossed and twisted her loins, the dildo and the frigger followed the movements of her body almost exactly, allowing the two machines to do their work in freedom, without the rigidity that might result in pain.
The mechanical dildo had two parts, either of which could be used separately as desired, or both together. First, a thick metal vaginal dildo, sufficiently large to give the pretty redhead serious cause for thought: well-greased and carefully adjusted, this reamed her passage with a six-inch stroke. in and out! in and out! Second, a slimmer arsehole-dildo, set closely parallel to its thicker companion: again, the well-greased metal was nicely adjusted, so that it disappeared deep into the protesting brown anus with the minimum of discomfort. in and out! in and out!
All these devices were controlled from a raised instrument panel, where The Master* could sit at his ease, looking down with pleasure at the helpless body of his slave. By moving appropriate switches and knobs, he could slow down or speed up each machine individually, as he desired. or they could be stopped completely. In this way, a bewildering variety of effects could be produced.
Such then is a brief description of the machine. Madam Vera gave me some brochures extolling the machine and its effects in flowery 'Hollywoodese': here's a sample of some really purple prose, where the writer pulled out all the stops!
The Slave will spend many long sessions on the machine, so that The Master may learn the secrets of her slim body as it twists and twitches, flushed rosy-pink with ecstasy. He will carry out many experiments on her . The 'shortest time to orgasm', with all devices going full tilt: the 'longest drawn-out orgasm', with selected machines being speeded up as The Slave reaches her climax: most exhausting of all will be the 'longest holdout to orgasm', where for over half an hour The Slave's screaming nerves are stretched skillfully, with gentle touches here and tiny movements there, until finally she bursts into a shattering storm that drives her into delicious oblivion.
Often, she will be ungagged, to allow The Master to savour the moans and animal cries that are drawn from her against her will. From time to time she will be filmed and sound-recorded, to be humiliated on the morrow by a public showing to The Master's friends, as she stands spread-eagled, naked, bound and gagged for their inspection on the stage beside the screen where the celluloid transports of her orgasm of the day before . "
Well, of course one smiles at stuff like that! But if you'd been there, Max, and watched the reactions of that redhead as Madam Vera started turning knobs and pulling levers. well, I think you'd have been impressed. I didn't count the number of times she came: but it was certainly more than half a dozen. Madam Vera put her through the three things suggested in the brochure. 'shortest time to orgasm', 'longest-drawn-out orgasm', and 'longest holdout to orgasm': and there were at least three other times she creamed, too. (That 'longest holdout' was quite a performance! Madam Vera said that without the 'head-down' tilted position it wouldn't really be possible. the girl would simply faint from too much pleasure: but the downward slant kept plenty of blood going to her head, and gave her a better chance of holding out. ).
When they finally released her, she was all rubbery-legged, and could hardly stand, from sheer fatigue. There were great violet shag-patches under her eyes, and her nipples looked all dark-red and bloated: and as for her cunt. well, I've not often seen a quim so swollen and gorged with blood: just like a slab of raw meat, it looked!. and when they stood her upright, her juices started leaking down her thighs as though a tap had been turned on. You know as well as I do, Max, that half the orgasms you see in a brothel are faked. Well, take it from me that none of hers were: that Maximum Sensation Machine had really made her cream!
Chapter Twelve
That evening, Madam Vera showed me the pain devices in operation. You must understand that pain per se was not the real objective here: the devices were provided merely to increase sensation in the subject's body. Even the sales brochure admitted freely that some women would obtain no benefit at all. indeed, the reverse. from their use: but Madam Vera was emphatic that of the twenty-four girls in her house. who had all been tried out on the machine. nineteen had obtained varying amounts of sexual stimulation from the use of the pain devices.
Tonight, of course, they were to be used in isolation (which they never were in normal practice) in order to give me a full understanding of their potentialities: and Madam Vera was killing two birds with one stone. the victim for the demonstration was one of her girls who had in any case earned herself a punishment by not catering properly to the wishes of an important, if ill-favoured, client of the house.
She was brought in naked, already gagged, and struggling helplessly in the grasp of Madam Vera's three big bouncers. A handsome, well-stacked blonde, her green eyes rolling wildly in terror as she was dragged towards the waiting apparatus, she made a lovely picture: and for a moment I was rather sorry that I was not going to see her shuddering in ecstasy as the redhead had done earlier that afternoon. The three men made short work of their task: and before long the naked golden body was lying stretched out and spread-eagled on the Maximum Sensation Machine, quivering in apprehension as her torment grew ever nearer. for you must remember that even if pain was not the main objective of these devices, nevertheless there was no pleasure whatsoever for the victim when the controls were set at full strength: nor did the machine ever tire. the punishment would continue, mechanically, on and on. until it pleased the operator to decide otherwise.
Now the attendants started grouping the pain devices round the trembling naked body. First came the breast-whippers. These were designed for mounting on the same bar that arched across the victim's body and carried the nipple-teasers: so the first thing the attendants had to do was set up the two stands for the armpit-ticklers and fix the bar firmly between them. (though of course neither the nipple-teasers nor the feather tickler attachments were installed for this purely punishment session). Each device was a curious contraption of metal tubing, which I can best describe as a tall, narrow W sitting astride the bar at the edge of the body-shell, opposite the girl's breast, and facing her body, so that one looked through the W and saw her breast centred in it: the top of the W was perhaps twenty to twenty-four inches above the level of the girl's body, and the bottom was on a level with, or perhaps a little lower than, the nipple in her breast. Now each outer arm of the W was slotted, from top to bottom, with the slots facing in toward the girl: and each arm carried a short piece of horizontal pipe projecting out of the slot, and running up and down in it. This evening, each of horizontal pipes (and the two on the other side of the girl's body) was carrying a little switch of four or five slim hazel twigs, some six or seven inches long: and Madam Vera told me that there was plenty of choice available. the possible attachments including a thin whippy whalebone rod, a miniature scourge of thin knotted cords, and a tiny birch of stinging-nettles: she went on to point out how the switches in the 'upper' arms of the W. nearer the victim's head. were directed towards the upper surfaces of her breasts, while the 'lower' arms. further from her head. covered the undersides. neither of them interfering in any way with the vertical arms of the nipple-teasers. (which of course were not installed this evening): the final nicety was provided by the W-shape itself, which ensured that the two weapons were getting closer to each other as they came down, and so exerted a painful pinching action on the breast when they struck it simultaneously.
This was a hydraulically-operated device: and internal cylinder drove each little horizontal pipe, carrying its chosen load of pain, slowly up to the top of the slot: as it went up, it compressed a powerful spring, which was triggered off automatically up at the top, so that the pipe was driven rapidly down its slotted tube, to thud against a padded stop an inch above the level of the girl's breast: the sudden shock jerked the switch (or scourge, or little birch) downwards into stinging contact with the soft flesh: then the little pipe started off upwards again. Furthermore, the nipple-teaser's kneading motion ensured that sooner or later the whole surface of the breast, both above and below, was made available to the wicked caress of the twin instruments thudding remorselessly down from above in regular cadence. From his instrument-panel, the operator could control both the speed and the strength of the whipping operation, as Madam Vera showed me.
Next came the stomach-scourger. a similar machine, set to one side of the girl's body: here, the cale was larger, the birch or switch or scourge longer and heavier. The area under attack was the soft flesh of the lower belly, between the navel and the pubic hair: and this particular device imparted a 'fanning' motion, so that the strokes marched back and forth over the whole area between the bar that carried the automatic trigger, and the stomach-strap that held the girl down into her shell. Tonight, Madam Vera had chosen a thin leather thong: and the bright red marks left by the three or four demonstration strokes (which she told me were delivered at only medium intensity and speed) argued an impressive load of pain when the controls were set for maximum effect.
The buttock-beaters followed next. again these were hydraulically-operated devices: but this time they worked in reverse, with the stroke delivered upwards from below: and the two columns were correspondingly shorter. As before, the weapon could be changed to suit the operator's whim: it was long enough to cover both buttocks together, and again, the speed and strength of strokes were controllable from the instrument-panel. Each machine had the built-in 'fanning' device to give coverage: but here, to avoid collisions, the machines 'fired' in staggered sequence. left! right! left! right! hrush! phwitt!. (for Madam Vera had chosen to put a nettle-birch in one machine, with a cord scourge in the other. ).
Finally, there was the galvanizer: this cruel device, which every 'patient' feared and hated, was built in to the two dildoes. (and demanded that both be used, when 'galvanic action' was desired). Separated only by the thin membrane between vagina and rectum, the two metal dildoes lay very close to each other within the girl's body. The closing of a switch brought a condenser into play: and deep inside the soft sensitive passages an electric spark was generated, which flashed through from rectum to vagina, so that the patient's very vitals leapt and twitched in the twisting tingle of repeated momentary electric shocks.
Madam Vera started off with half a dozen medium strokes from every machine, one after the other. first the little birches at the breasts, then the thin thong across the stomach, next the scourge and nettles on the arse, and finally the electric sparks inside the cunt and arsehole. The unfortunate victim was yelling "Nnng! Nng-nnng!" behind her gag almost from the start: and when the galvanizer sparked cruelly across her sensitive membrane, she started yelping like a wounded animal. At Madam Vera's invitation, I experimented with the control-panel, and found it surprisingly easy to understand: within minutes I was trying out all sorts of effects. six strokes across the breasts at full speed but minimum intensity; 'fanning' the thong across the stomach at minimum intensity, then creating an angry weal by one stroke at maximum force. then trying to hit the same weal on the way back; setting the galvanizer at low strength but maximum speed, so that the wretched blonde was being visited by an almost continuous electric current in her cunt.
Then Madam Vera said. "Right! Now we'll knock this bitch off. ". and took over the controls. The blows fell with increasing force and speed, till it was clear that the victim was almost at the end of her strength. Madam Vera checked the rain of blows for a moment. but only to set every device at maximum strength: then she switched on everything simultaneously.
The blonde's eyes opened so wide in horror at the shocking surge of pain that the whites showed all round the irises. The green eyes rolled up into her head as the second flood of agony washed over her body: and at the third stroke she collapsed limply into unconsciousness, her sweating body with its angry red stripes across breasts and belly lying motionless in the body-shell.
The demonstration had left me most impressed: but Madam Vera assured me I had seen nothing yet, and that Debby's performance on the following day would be a real eye-opener.
Chapter Thirteen
And so indeed it was. Debby was a delightful little brunette, quite stunningly good-looking: and I had to admit that even my best girls in Boston would be hard put to outdo her for general attractiveness. Her partner was introduced to me as 'Howie'. a big blonde bull of 30, with an unmistakable air of authority and wealth. No one else was present. just the four of us. Madam Vera and myself, and the two protagonists, Howie and Debby.
The slim figure was soon revealed in breathtaking nudity as Howie slipped the house-coat off: then he picked her up and laid her in the shell, while Madam Vera attended to the basic bonds. the wrist-cuffs (to allow Howie to stretch the small naked body taut), and then the boots. Then Howie strapped his partner firmly into the shell, and used the rack-and-pinion gadget to spread her and stretch her body to the maximum, until she murmured. "Yes! That's it!" I looked enquiringly at Madam Vera: I was a little surprised to see the girl ungagged. and even more so, to hear her voicing instructions as to how she should, or should not, be treated. She nodded understanding, and whispered that Debby was very good at saying exactly how her sensations could be increased: and this was what Howie wanted. besides, he liked to hear her reactions when she creamed.
Before fitting any of the devices, Howie indulged in a little love-play with the willing body lying waiting in the machine.
He stripped himself, to reveal a fine healthy cockstand erected almost vertically against the flat background of his blonde-bushed belly: then he moved in between the outspread arms till he was straddling the beautiful head held motionless by the foreheadstrap. He bent his knees. Debby's mouth opened, to nuzzle gently at the red swollen knob, as Howie's hand bent his prick down towards her pretty face. o Then he leant forward, till his torso was resting along hers: we saw his tongue come out, and for a few moments he played gently with the helpless girl, lapping at her crimson cunt until she moaned with pleasure. At last he rose reluctantly, kissed her tenderly on the mouth, and started assembling the devices which would soon be stimulating the lovely naked body.
For the next twenty minutes, Howie worked swiftly and skilfully at the task of installation. First came the armpit-ticklers: and when the flat feather-wheels had been satisfactorily tested, drawing a delightful little shuddering 'Aaah?' from the willing victim, Howie fixed the arched steel bar between them, and snapped the two nipple-teasers into place above the firm, naked breasts. As the rubber fingers played maddeningly with her rigid little coral buds, Debby caught her breath, and a great shiver of pleasure ran through her. Then she was saying quietly. "The knotted cords", in answer to Howie's question as he fitted the two Ws of the breast-whippers into place: and soon the four miniature scourges fell 'Phwtt!' onto the soft naked globes as Howie tested the device, and we heard Debby draw her breath in with a little hiss at the sharp momentary stinging pain.
The little brunette chose stinging-nettles for the stomach-scourger: and again I felt surprise to hear her say calmly. "Don't bother to test it. I'll let you know later if it's not all right." I found I was actively looking forward to the spectacle of the smooth flat stretch of flesh between the bush and the navel tossing and heaving and turning fiery red under the stinging kisses of the nettle-birch.
Howie moved on down to the lovely open crotch. First came the buttock-buttock-beaters; and for these, Debby chose thin whale-bone rods. to me, a surprising choice, for I would have thought that these were one of the more painful of the available alternatives: but I was beginning to realize that this pretty girl did not regard her session on the machine merely as another episode in her brothel-life. another client satisfied; but rather as a deeply-meaningful sexual experience in which it would simply not occur to her to cheat. So this afternoon, when some animal instinct deep within her urged her to choose the stinging agony of the whalebone rods whipping her naked arse, she announced her choice quite calmly: and soon we heard her cry out as. 'Phwock! Phwock!', the test strokes flashed upwards in the special 'left-right' sequence of the buttock-beaters.
Then came the 'hands' of the automatic trigger clutching firmly at the slim naked hips, and the red rubber thimble clutching firmly at the slim naked hips, and the red rubber thimble half hidden at the point of the silken-haired bush. Again, Debby shuddered in her bonds as Howie tested the device, and the maddening vibration took hold of her sensitive clitoris to give her a foretaste of the ecstasies to come.
Next, Howie fitted the well-greased double dildo into the two waiting orifices, and switched on for testing. I watched fascinated as the compressed air hissed within the steel sphere at the top of the column, and the arm carrying the two metal rods moved out and back in a six-inch travel that drew an 'Aaah!' of pleasure from the pretty victim. Howie remarked quite conversationally. "Here's the spark! Strength Three. ", and I saw the muscles bunch on Debby's flat belly as the electric impulse bit suddenly at her tender vitals. She grunted involuntarily, then said quietly to Howie. "I'm feeling randy today. start me off Strength Four, please."
Finally, the foot-ticklers were installed, their test drawing a peal of laughter and a snort of pleasure from the pretty brunette. who was now so surrounded with metal stands and bars, and cables and airhoses and wires, and miscellaneous devices in general, that she bore very little resemblance to a naked girl lying on her back with her legs apart. Then Howie busied himself at the controls; and the Maximum Sensation Machine and its devices got under way.
For Debby's first orgasm, Howie had chosen to use only the pleasure devices: and he made it clear from the very start that he was completely expert in the manipulation of the machine. It had not taken me long to reach the conclusion that the ticklers at feet and armpits were merely the dressing on the salad, so to speak: obviously, neither they, nor indeed the nipple-teasers, could cause an orgasm when used alone. (though they could of course intensify one to a surprisingly high degree. ). The 'serious' devices were the dildoes and the frigger: and it was a pleasure to watch Howie's sure hand at work, as the lovely victim was brought time after time to the very verge of orgasm. Groaning and panting with ecstatic lust. only to be let down gently, her disappointment cushioned now by an increased tempo of the tickling at her feet, now by a more urgent kneading of her nipples: then she was worked up again, till finally with a high, insistent cry of "Now! Now!!" that brooked no refusal, she burst over the edge into an orgasm of sweet fierceness which Howie kept in being far longer than I would have thought possible, by throwing all controls to maximum intensity and speed. When at last the lovely body had shuddered and jerked its way to a stop, Debby opened her eyes. to find Howie straddled expectantly above her head: as her mouth opened, he leant forward and bent his prick down towards her. and for a while we listened to his panting sobs and groans as he was exquisitely sucked off by the pretty brunette.
Then Howie brought the pain devices into operation, and for the first time I saw the machine working as one concerted whole. First, he built Debby up to an initial plateau of pleasure, by a judicious use of the pleasure devices: then he blended in the others one by one. I watched the little pipes creeping upwards in the tubes of the breast-whippers; then. "Phwock!". the four little scourges hissed down onto the naked breasts moving ceaselessly in the grip of the steel 'fingers' of the nipple-teasers: at the stinging little pain, Debby said "Aah?", quite softly: then her breath whistled in through her nostrils as a rash of red papules sprang up on the smooth white surface of her belly. Howie's fingers moved over the controls: and his helpless victim gave a low shuddering cry as a series of mild electric sparks flashed up and down her helpless cunt. causing her to tense her buttock muscles involuntarily, so that the two whalebone rods met firm flesh as they flashed upwards to land "Whap! Whap!" and draw two answering cries from Debby.
But it was not only pain that the little brunette was experiencing. Howie had been using his pleasure devices no less skilfully: and it was not long before we saw the slim body stiffen into orgasm, and heard her cry of ecstasy as Howie speeded up the sparking effect within the creaming cunt.
As the demonstration proceeded, I found myself more and more impressed by this fantastic machine. Madam Vera assured me that Debby was normally not in the very least masochistic: yet here she was, somewhere between her third and fourth orgasms, crying out ecstatically. "Oh, harder! Harder on my breasts!!": and when the pain of the whalebone rods whipping her across her reddened naked arse grew too fierce, she cried out to Howie. not to switch them off. but "Fuck me faster! Faster!!. ". knowing subconsciously that a higher speed to the dildoes would increase the sensations in her body in just the manner necessary to compensate for the burning pain at her arse.
Whether she knew it or not, she swallowed Howie's spunk twice more, and had had at least seven orgasms herself, before her big blonde tormentor decided that the programme should be concluded.
He drove her faster and faster up the ladder of sensation, constantly increasing the effect of the various devices, until at the end every control on the panel was at maximum setting, and Debby was experiencing pain and pleasure to the limit of her capacity. and beyond. She was quite unable to withstand the full volume of sensation for more than a few moments in her condition of utter shagged-out weariness: and as we watched, we saw her lapse quietly into unconsciousness at the very second when her rising squeal of ecstasy went off the scale, to signify the onset of yet another orgasm racing through the weary naked body.
She was still unconscious ten minutes later, when Howie had finished dismounting all the various devices: and as he swung her naked body up into his big arms, to take her to her room, Madam Vera told me that this was quite common after a good session on the machine.
Well, I gave it a good report when I got back to Boston: but as I say, I never found out if they actually installed one in the end.
Chapter Fourteen
Have a look at these three photos, Max: quite amusing, aren't they? The man's John Carson. he's dead now, poor chap. The girl's Julie, one of my top performers. a very genuine person she was. tall, dark, slim, and strikingly pretty, though it's only in this second photo that you can see her face. Let me tell you what happened on that particular evening.
John was comfortably off (though nowhere near as rich as his millionaire cousins), and used to come and visit us regularly a couple of times a month, He'd just picked up a couple of thousand dollars on the winner of the Preakness, and was understandably in a very happy mood when he came in that evening. The first thing he did was order a magnum of champagne, and invite me for a drink: and then he chose Julie from my 'available list', and she came in and joined us. He stripped her off and started sipping champagne out of her navel, and it was tickling her so that she broke into a fit of the giggles, and we were all gay and happy and getting slightly drunk on the champagne. John announced proudly that he was feeling mighty randy, and was going to give Julie a working-over she'd remember: and he asked me, quite openly, to take some action photos. "In years to come", he said with mock gravity, "eminent professors are going to write text-books around the photographs that you will take tonight!" So I put a collour-pack in one of our still cameras: John went off to draw a few items from the equipment store: and we all met up a few minutes later in Julie's room.
"Once in each pretty orifice!," he announced gaily: and he set about preparing the willing Julie for her first penetration, which was to be a fuck, he said. First, he strapped stout leather cuffs about her slim wrists and ankles: then he placed her kneeling widespread on her bed, her front towards us, and her knees about eighteen inches from the edge. Then he laid a spreader-bar across her ankles, and clipped two leather anklets to it so that her pretty feet were immobilized a good yard apart. Julie evinced no alarm at this ominous beginning. John chose her frequently, and she knew that he liked to see his girls in bondage, but stopped well short of torture. So she made suitable 'helpless maiden' noises, to excite him, and went along willingly with his simulation of brutality.
He put his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her back and down, until her rounded arse was resting on the spreader. Then he pulled her shoulders forward, and pressed them down till they lay squarely at the edge of the bed, so that her pretty head hung over the edge. As her shoulders came down, so her arse of course came up, bending more and more tightly as her body bunched up, until at the end she was displaying herself in utter widespread openness, with her arsehole staring half-open and impudent from the bottom of her widely-parted crack, and below it her pretty crimson cunt yawning open in a smile of welcome, as if inviting penetration by some impatient prick. Quickly, John seized her wrists and drew her arms beneath her body and back out between her parted legs: there were two clicks; and now pretty Julie found herself with her wristlets attached firmly to the centre of the spreader-bar, so that the lovely naked body was immobilized in the shamelessly revealing position that left her cunt and arsehole completely vulnerable to her captor's every whim.
John hastily divested himself of his clothing, revealing himself to be in a fine upstanding condition, and well prepared to prove him manhood in Julie's pretty body. Then he produced the second piece of equipment he had brought from our store: a long, stiff, brightly-coloured parrot's feather. Poor Julie was to be tickled, strapped out as she was on the spreader-bar which made it quite impossible for her to defend herself in any way! A gasp of horror broke from her lips as John, prick throbbing with lust against his stomach, bent down and held the feather in front of her eyes: then she was babbling incoherently, pleading for mercy, her hands and feet straining against their cuffs in a futile effort to escape. much to John's delight, of course: and he was laughing gaily as he swung himself onto the bed and took post behind her quivering, parted thighs. His hand came up: and the point of the feather touched very gently against her open cunt.
Julie cried out aloud at the maddening sensation, and a violent quivering spasm shook her naked body: I could see her muscles contracting, as she strove vainly to break free. but the spreader-bar was impossible to get away from, and all her frantic tugging and wriggling came to naught. The more she cried and heaved, the greater was the pleasure she was affording John, who. deaf to her cries and incoherent pleadings. continued to tickle her cunt, sometimes up and down the slit, sometimes just inside. He grinned as he saw the lips begin to swell and redden as Julie's sexual excitement was aroused: and soon her throbbing clitoris began to stiffen visibly. John continued to torture her in this delicious fashion, though for a while he abandoned the palpitating cunt in favour of the insides of the slim smooth thighs: and a few moments later his attention turned to the trim brown arsehole. As Julie tugged frantically at her bonds and shrieked out in ecstasy, her cunning tormentor introduced the stiff tip of the feather just inside the partly-opened hole, and twirled it gently back and forth, till I thought Julie would have a seizure, the way she was carrying on!
He turned his attention back to the pretty cunt, now red and swollen in preparation for the coming orgasm, and swimming in the juices that Julie was secreting in ever-increasing volume. For a while, he tickled the pouting cunt-lips scientifically, till the poor girl was once more babbling incoherently for mercy. a plea which he answered with a laugh, and a long, thorough massage of her clitoris that set her eyes rolling in her head. Then he pushed the feather gently into her open pulsing vagina, till the tip was buried more than two inches deep within her cunt: then he twirled it slowly between thumb and forefinger, so that the sensitive walls of her vagina were tickled beyond all bearing.
With a strangled shriek, Julie burst into a monster orgasm that had her pretty body shuddering and jerking in its bonds: and I thought for a moment that she had fainted under the intensity of her spend, which was driving her juices out of her madly-working cunt in a steady stream that glistened as it trickled down her twitching thighs. John leant forward with a satisfied smile as the delicious orgasm drew to a close, and planted a friendly kiss on the half-open arsehole, so that Julie gave a great jerk within her bonds. With a sigh of regret, John laid the feather aside. somewhat bedraggled now, after its sojourn in the moist cunt of the pretty victim. and shuffled forward on his knees between the parted thighs: obviously, the time had come to make good the first part of his boast that he would have her 'once in each pretty orifice'. Julie's quim was so well lubricated with the juices of her recent feather-induced spend that he had no difficulty in penetrating her: and she cooed with pleasure as the big firm prick slid slowly into her willing body until John's lower belly came to rest against her pink-flushed and perspiring buttocks. The feel of the big cock lodged firmly in her cunt renewed her sexual excitement, and within a few minutes she was moving her loins from side to side, and thrusting back against John's invading tool as far as the spreader-bar would allow her. But her lover was in no hurry to assuage her. He withdrew himself slightly from her body. just far enough to afford access to his two hands: one positioned itself above his prick, so that a probing forefinger could find its way inside the slippery rubber ring of her arsehole. the intrusion drawing a great cry of lust from the tormented girl. The intrusion drawing a great cry of lust from the tormented girl. The other hand went lower down, between her parted thighs: and Julie squealed with pleasure as she felt a firm finger settle on her swollen throbbing clitoris.
And so he took her, for the first time of the evening in her cunt. bound, helpless, all sticky from her previous spend, and shuddering with ecstasy as the big prick reamed back and forth within her twitching quim, and the two fingers played havoc with her clitoris and arsehole. They came almost simultaneously, in a long-drawn-out, satisfying orgasm that had both man and girl sobbing and groaning in their pleasure. Finally, John released her from her bonds and kissed her tenderly on the lips: then they lay quietly for a while in each other's arms, recovering from the exhaustion of their spend.
Chapter Fifteen
A short rest and a glass of champagne worked wonders for the pair: and soon John started making preparations for the second part of his three-fold boast. This time, he announced his intention of buggering Julie's pretty arse: and the slim brunette coloured prettily as he drew her into his arms and started kneading the two springy globes that were soon to be penetrated by his lustful prick.
The arrangements were soon made. they were in fact very simple, consisting of a firm wedge of cushions in the centre of the bed, and the moving of the pier-glass to the foot of the bed. Then John lay down, and composed himself in comfort, lying propped up against the backrest of the wedge of cushions: and Julie moved the pier-glass at John's direction, till he was satisfied with its position. Then he beckoned the naked beauty over to him, grinning appreciatively as she wiggled her hips in open provocation as she came.
He made her kneel astride his thighs, her back towards him: then she leant forward at his command, to let him work a big dab of Vaseline into her arsehole: a thorough greasing of his prick followed; and then he was ready for his pretty victim. She sank back gingerly onto his upstanding rod, impaling herself slowly with a hiss of indrawn breath as the elastic walls of her rectum stretched to accommodate the fullness of his prick. Suddenly, she caught sight of herself in the mirror: her mouth fell open, and she blushed at the frank indecency of her open cunt, which betrayed only too clearly the fact that she had been well-fucked not very long before. Then John's hands came round her body from behind and clasped her by the breasts: gently but firmly he pulled her backwards, till at the end she was lying back against his broad chest, like some naked gymnast doing a 'kneeling backward bend'. Somewhat to her surprise, the position was not uncomfortable: but it was so revealing as to be almost embarrassing. the open cunt, still glistening with mingled spunk and juices, and below it the big shaft of John's cock disappearing between the soft curves of her underbuttocks. She was soon to find that the position was also highly vulnerable: for in the mirror she saw one of John's hands leave her hard-nippled breasts and move leisurely down to frig her sweetly on her defenceless clitoris, till she was sobbing with pleasure, and turned her head involuntarily to seek his willing lips, so that neither of them was watching the mirror when she came, her lovely naked body all aquiver and the muscles standing out on her smooth flat belly and the in-sides of her slim silky thighs.
My picture shows her about mid-orgasm, Max: and I think you'll admit she really was a lovely piece of cunt!
John let her rest for a while, their two tongues shuttling back and forth between their eager lips, and the creamy juices dripping out of her open cunt to inundate his balls and crotch. Then he held out his hand towards me; and I handed him his third and last item of equipment. a big dildo in hard pink rubber.
Julie was not expecting this, and she cried out in momentary alarm as John fumbled the big firm head against the soft lips of her vagina. But a glance in the mirror reassured her: her hands went down to spread her cunt-lips wide: and she watched fascinated as the dildo vanished slowly inside her body, so that she was impaled both fore and aft.
Gently, John began to fuck her with the dildo, revelling in the spasmodic twitchings produced by the steady reaming of her cunt. for every time her quim bit at the intruding dildo, so her arsehole throbbed at the same time, playing havoc with his tingling prick. He knew that the end could not be long delayed, when the dancing arsehole would suck him off so that he flooded Julie's rectum with his hot spunk: and the thought made him seek her pretty mouth, to thrust his tongue urgently within, in symbolic representation of his desire to penetrate her willing body through every orifice available.
Her orgasm was slow and deep, and very satisfying: this was her fourth spend of the evening, and the release of her desire was no longer to be accomplished in the wild surges of her first and second spends. John profited from the slower tempo: as the warm velvety rectum gripped rhythmically at his intruding cock, he let himself go with it, jerking his loins insistently in a conscious effort both to bring on his own climax and to prolong the pleasure of the naked girl squirming on his prick and shouting incoherently through wide-open lust-twisted lips.
This time, the storm of pleasure left them so limp that several minutes passed before they could find the strength to disengage from each other: and then they lay dreamily for almost half an hour, savouring their shared experience, before rising with a happy sigh to refresh themselves with champagne.
For the final act, John placed Julie on her back upon the bed, her head supported on a pillow. Before mounting her, he ran his tongue over the lovely naked body: and she shuddered as the tickling contact slid slowly up her thighs to her tired quim, and then switched to her nipples, massaging them deliriously till they stood proud and hard on the smooth firm half-moons of her breasts. He mounted the bed, to kneel astride her shoulders and grin down affectionately at the pretty face looking up at him: then he gave her his instructions, and her eyes opened in surprise for a moment before her face creased into a naughty little lustful grin.
He sank back slowly, shuffling his knees downwards along her body until his dangling sack was centred in the valley between her breasts. The he bent forward, supporting himself on his two hands placed on either side of and slightly above her head. The forward bend swung his rigid prick down from the vertical to the horizontal: and Julie found that a twist of her shoulders and a slight shift of her head allowed her to take John's big red knob into her mouth: she could just get her lips comfortably round the mushroom head, and the sensitive glans itself, with its little slit, was nicely within range of her shuttling tongue.
Using both hands, she adjusted her full, firm breasts so that they pressed as closely as possible against each other. John shuddered as he felt his balls imprisoned in the warm softness of the two tits. He sank his loins down onto Julie's body, so that her breasts were trapped by the hard backs of his thighs, and pressed even closer against his pendant sack. He could feel her tongue probing experimentally round the warm flesh of his glans: and he shuddered involuntarily, in anticipation of his coming spend into her willing mouth. Then he cried out sharply as she carried out his final instruction, bringing one long slim forefinger up between his buttocks to ringer the sensitive arsehole for a moment before plunging firmly in. John gasped as the finger went deeper and deeper, until at last the pretty brunette was giving him a gentle prostate massage: and now, with a great surge of sensation, he realized that for some minutes past his glans had been experiencing the stimulation of her tongue lapping steadily over the sensitive surface. In a vain attempt to seek relief from the almost unbearable thrill of Julie's expert suck-off. or rather 'lick-off', for his prick was not far enough within her mouth to be properly sucked. he tried to draw back from her mouth. only to hear himself gasp in ecstacy as he drove his rectum further onto the intruding finger working skillfully on his prostate gland. The massaging action of the soft springy tits upon his balls was suddenly quite beautiful in its effect, and he felt that never before in his life had he been so delightfully randy.
He had just started to impart this important piece of information to her when he came: to the outside listener, he gasped. "Oh Julie!", almost desperately, then slid into an incoherent whining "Wheee!" that went on for long minutes while his balls emptied themselves through his jerking prick, and Julie swallowed the flood of hot spunk in regular repeated gulps till her throat ached and she wondered if he was ever going to stop.
My third picture here was taken just after John had started spending: and I think it's caught them very nicely, don't you?
She drained him dry at last, and he collapsed weakly, sobbing and gasping, and quite oblivious of the fact that he was lying heavily across poor Julie's face! She had to pinch him hard, high up inside his thigh, before she could shift him enough to let her struggle out from under his inert body-He was a nice chap, John Carson but he had bad luck. he was run down by a drunken driver just after he'd turned 40: may he rest in peace.
Chapter Sixteen
I haven't told you about The Palomino yet, have I? She was a lovely little thing with a great mane of honey-blonde hair. hence the name!. and a most appealing pair of grey-green eyes set wide above a delightful snub nose. She must have been at least 24 or 25: but she looked so much younger that all the men felt they were fucking some schoolgirl still in her teens: and she was especially popular with the older customers in consequence.
An added attraction was that she'd been professionally trained for ballet, so she was particularly graceful in the way she moved her body about. It had become obvious fairly early on that she hadn't got the necessary talent: so she'd added acrobatic dancing to her repertoire, and done the night-club circuit for a while: but she never really got into the money, and finally one of The Organization's talent scouts took her out of circulation, broke her in, and placed her in my house.
The Palomino was also a very willing performer: and if you can think of a better lay than a good-looking honey-blonde who does acrobatic poses in the nude and enjoys being screwed, why haven't you brought her along to the Club, Max?
We used to use her a lot in our blue films, because she was so photogenic. I remember one particular scene that came out very well. I think the man was Alec, though I can't be sure: anyway, it-sounds just his sort of thing! Alec. (we'll use his name). knelt down on the floor, keeping his body upright: The Palomino stood about a yard in front of him, her back towards him: then, very slowly, very gracefully, the slim lissome body bent right back until her hands were planted on the floor an inch or so in front of his knees, with the honey-coloured mane hanging to the floor in delightful disarray. Then, with a vigorous kick from her long slim legs, The Palomino swung her body up till she was standing on her hands, her upright body now facing Alec's, and pressing closely up against it. She was of course completely at home in this upside-down position: and there was none of that uncertain wavering that so often mars displays of amateur gymnastics. her trim naked body just stood there, quite as much at ease as if she had been standing on her feet, and not her hands.
You don't have to be an expert in anatomy, Max, to work out just what part of Alec's kneeling body found itself in juxtaposition to The Palomino's pretty face. nor what part of her was situated just beneath his chin!
Then, with perfect control, she spread her legs sideways in a highly revealing 'splits' that must have raised blood-pressures appreciably in Houston when the film was shown in our 'paired' house under the exchange agreement! Remember, she was professionally trained: and those legs opened wider and wider till they were in the flattest V imaginable, and The Palomino's fresh young cunt was gaping to the limit. not merely the blonde-fringed cunt-lips, but the actual vagina itself was yawning open: as Alec said. "You could almost see right up into her womb. ."
Then the trim arse rounded in breath-taking fashion as The Palomino bent her legs forward at the hips, until the widely-parted thighs lay at the points of Alec's shoulders, one on either side of his head. Now her little arsehole came into full view, stretched half-open by her fantastic 'splits' position, and standing up appealingly a little above the surface of her crack: it looked exactly like some brown-petalled bud just beginning to bloom into an exotic crimson-centred flower. and who could blame Alec when he bent his head forward to savour more closely these delicious treasures that The Palomino was offering so freely for his intimate inspection? His tongue came out, urgent and pointed, to stab enquiringly into the red centre of the half-open arsehole: and she shuddered violently at his touch.
Now her lower legs bent slowly inwards from the knee, until her heels crossed behind Alec's head: she drew her feet further and further in, till finally they were almost touching the back of his head. now drawn back a little to allow him to lick gently along the line of the widely-gaping cunt (already brimming with her inner juices), to finish up with a stiff-tongued massage of The Palomino's throbbing clitoris. Her body jerked at the ultimate intimacy of this caress: the two heels stabbed inwards like the closing of a trap: and Alec found that his head was now held firmly between her slim muscled thighs, so that his mouth must perforce remain in contact with her twitching quim. He appeared to view the situation with commendable equanimity: after his initial grunt of surprise at finding himself a prisoner in such congenial surroundings, he settled down to give The Palomino a serious gamahuching: but now his two hands moved to assist his shuttling tongue, one descending to the level of his navel, to seek a soft coral nipple and knead it methodically into stiff thimble-like rigidity, the other coming up round The Palomino's beautiful quivering haunch to finger her lightly along her pretty crack until the probing forefinger could find its target and plunge deep into her sensitive arsehole.
The little honey-blonde was not without the means for a serious counter-attack, however: for right in front of her pretty face stood Alec's rigid cock, throbbing gently every now and then as his lust mounted under the excitement of his tonguing and fingering of The Palomino's lovely body. Her mouth opened wide: and the long mane of hair twitched vigorously as she arched her neck and angled her head, preparatory to pouncing on her unsuspecting prey. Then Alec gave a great leap that nearly unbalanced her. she was saved from falling only by the impaling forefinger buried deep in her twitching arsehole. as he felt his prick encased in the warm soft moistness of her mouth: and her skilled tongue started its maddening attentions to his sensitive glans, and he groaned in ecstacy as the delicious shivers started running over his body: there would be no respite for him, he knew, and no end to the lovely torture of his sensitive knob, until he had creamed in sweet profusion into the avid mouth of the little long-haired beauty. With a shudder of delight, he redoubled his attentions to the pretty cunt lying defenceless beneath his probing tongue, and now it was The Palomino's turn to shiver as his strong thumb and forefinger twirled her coral nipple to and fro, while in her open crotch the probing finger and the steadily-lapping tongue sent her rapidly up the ladder of pleasure.
Now the slim body began to squirm deliciously as The Palomino's orgasm drew near: she was clasping Alec more firmly now within the 'mantrap' formed by her parted thighs, with her crossed heels pressing his head firmly against her crotch. He was busy with her clitoris now, and was for the moment leaving her open cunt to its own devices: and the camera showed it all red and swollen, so that the fringe of blonde hair along the lips stood out in sudden contrast. The whole surface was glistening with her juices: and every now and then some inner spasm would seize her so that her cunt twitched, as though impatient for the coming spend.
But it was Alec who exploded first. We saw his buttocks contracting rhythmically as his pelvis jerked involuntarily forward, twitching under the stimulus of his spend: the movement rammed his spouting cock back and forth into The Palomino's pretty face, so that he was in effect fucking her in the mouth. Her throat moved in regular cadence as he swallowed upward, working desperately to clear her mouth. do not forget she was upside down!. of the flood of hot spunk that seemed to be pouring endlessly out of Alec's prick.
And then she was coming herself, her whole body shuddering violently as the sweet waves of sensation washed over her: and the camera showed us in intimate detail her trim brown arsehole nipping regularly at Alec's finger, and the pretty crimson cunt working furiously as she spent deliriously with Alec's tongue frigging away at her rigid little clitoris to prolong her orgasm to the limit.
At last the storm of pleasure subsided. The Palomino raised her head with a sigh from Alec's shrunken prick: the honey-coloured mane rippled her head moved rhythmically back and forth in time with the gasping intake of her breath. Then her slim legs unlocked from their Yoga-like position, moved slowly down Alec's perspiring body, clasping him like a pair of arms as she lowered herself gently to the floor, where she lay collapsed in utter abandon at his knees.
Chapter Seventeen
Yes, she was a willing performer, was our Palomino. Everyone seemed to like her, the other girls as well as the customers: and her acrobatic training allowed her to do tricks which you simply wouldn't see elsewhere. Listen to this one, for example, which always went down very big at exhibitions.
The Palomino would get a man to lie down on his back on a narrow fucking-couch: then she would straddle him, sitting facing him with her legs out on either side of the couch, and his prick right up her cunt. Then Sam and one of his boys would step forward. (The Palomino had given them a certain amount of elementary training in the role of her 'assistants', and she could trust them to do more or less what they were told. ). She would twist her pelvis just a fraction round to one side. (for of course nobody can get their legs horizontal straight out to the sides!). and then the two Negroes Would each put a flat hand under one heel, and together they would raise her legs till she was doing a real horizontal 'splits'. still, of course, with the man's prick up her cunt. The Negroes would impart a very slight up-and-down bouncing movement to their hands: and somehow The Palomino would transfer this, through rigid legs, to her crotch. so that her whole body was bouncing up and down in six-inch jumps (though the Negroes were moving their hands less than an inch at a time). Thus the man would find himself being fucked, very rapidly, by this lovely naked body going up and down on his prick, with absolutely no weight pressing on him at all: and it used to tear the spunk out of them in streams, no matter who tried it. The Palomino herself would just be bouncing up and down in mid-air, with no visible means of support except the two palms of the Negroes, way out to the sides, with that lovely honey-coloured mane flying every which way, and both hands up teasing her nipples, and a faraway look in her grey-green eyes. until finally she would stiffen and shudder and close her eyes and cream herself stupid, with the Negroes holding her stretched open in that incredible 'splits', and the man underneath her pumping his spunk up into her in great powerful jets.
And there was another trick she had that could drive you mad, just watching it!. 'The Windmill', we used to call it. She would stand on her shoulders with her legs pointing straight up into the air: then they would separate and spread wide, wide. and down and open, till she was in a full 'splits'. And then she would twist her pelvis somehow. and I can't even begin to describe the thing to you, Max, but the idea'll come to you suddenly and you'll know exactly what I mean. and it would look almost as though her legs were going round and round like a horizontal propeller I never did get to figure out exactly how she did it. or even what she was doing! But it was highly sexy to watch: and it kept her cunt twisting from side to side in a way that sent the customers wild!
Another trick of hers was for the man to be sitting upright in a short-backed armchair. The Palomino would take a short run from behind him, and do a rolling dive over the top of his head to land neatly with her hands on the arms of the chair, balancing upside down. Before the man could make a move, her loins would have moved back towards his head, and he would find himself imprisoned by her slim thighs, with his face buried in her pretty cunt: and at the same time her head would move down to let her take his prick into her mouth: and in this unconventional position they would carry out a wild 69 that had them both shuddering and squirming as they came.
Oh, she was full of energy, my little Palomino! Imagine yourself lying happily on your back, Max, with this little darling humping away on top of you, and her torso bent right back so that you can play with her breasts. Suddenly, she's gone!. though he's still on your prick, and still working away at you. You can feel your pelvis being shaken from side to side. (that's when she splays her legs right out sideways, one after the other). and the next thing you know, she's lying out along you once more. only this time she's got her back to you! Somehow, she's turned herself round completely while you're still inside her. and she's never missed a beat while she's doing it! Another fantastic attribute of hers was her internal muscle-control. she could contract her vagina so strongly that her partner would find himself being tossed off as though by some soft warm velvety hand. I remember the look of utter amazement once on the face of some new customer we had, who'd never met this sort of thing before. The Palomino had him lying on his back, propped up on pillows. Then she mounted him, sitting facing him, and warned him to stay very still. all she wanted him to do was steady her, by her nipples. The chap looked a bit startled at this: but he was even more surprised when The Palomino opened her legs wide, clasped her ankles one in each hand, and slowly raised her feet into the air till she was balanced in a V shape on his groin, with his prick up her cunt and her legs high in the air above her head. and all he had to do was hold her steady by gripping her hard little coral nipples between thumb and forefinger. which was of course a pleasure. And then she started squeezing rhythmically at his prick by contracting herself inside: and his eyes nearly popped out of his head! But he was no slouch himself. Very carefully, so as not to disturb her balance, he released one nipple and stretched out over her shoulder to bring her lovely mane of honey-coloured hair to the front, making sure that a good 'rope' of hair lay over each shoulder. Then he gathered both strands into one hand. and thus ensured her balance nicely, with one hand free to steal down and tease the defenceless clitoris at the top of The Palomino's gaping quim: and as her pulsing cunt tossed him off with no visible motion, so did his finger frig her into a searing orgasm that drew long-drawn-out squeals of ecstasy from her, to match his sobbing gasps as his spunk thudded home high up in her vagina.
It really is a fantastic gift, Max, to be able to lie on your back, lift your legs up and back, and more or less kneel astride your own shoulders: and if you can do that, well. boy! you're open!! One of our regulars used to go for The Palomino in a big way: and he asked me if he could 'pretend-whip' her with a scourge made of soft, very thin leather laces. it looked most impressive, and made a nice swishing sound, but it took about 20 strokes to make even a small red mark; so I said I had no objection if The Palomino didn't mind. Mind?. she loved it! And I must say it looked most exciting to see this chap flogging away at her open cunt, in this special 'deep-kneel' position, and hear her doing 'pretend-moans' to arouse him. not that the needed arousing in the very least, for the first time he did this with her he came in mid-air while he was whipping her, she looked so beautiful, all doubled up in this incredibly revealing posture, with her pretty cunt wide open and twitching under the soothing caresses of his harmless scourge.
So that was The Palomino. a gay, pretty, uncomplicated girl who would have made somebody a lovely wife. She never gave me a moment's trouble. always good-tempered, always willing, never showing reluctance whatever the customer might demand. She didn't care for pain: and I'm happy to say that all the time I was running the house I managed to arrange that she never went down to the whipping-rooms. and that took some doing, I can tell you, because of course Don Marco would have had my hide if he'd suspected I was denying a $1000 customer what he wanted. But other things count besides money, don't they? The Palomino was good fun: she liked doing incredible, vulgar stunts: and her willingness was part of her attraction. I'm sure that if she'd been made to 'eat leather' down in Algolagnia Alley, she'd have lost her easy carefree attitude. and all her regulars would have been the losers. So I went out of my way to protect her: and she was grateful in return. and showed her gratitude by being one of the best lays any Madam could hope to have in her house.
Chapter Eighteen
Of course, I couldn't protect everybody. We had our fair share of sadists among our clientele: and the whipping-rooms had been set up for their use: so. if they were prepared to pay the fee. there was little I could do to stop them. -It wasn't my place to do so, anyway. in fact, the reverse: for as I've told you, our fee was high. and The Organization never objected to taking in $1000 in good folding money!
So the whipping-rooms were in fairly regular use. perhaps 6 times a month by the customers; and then there'd be the odd punishment-session, when some girl had stepped out of line. On average, each of the girls could reckon on 3 or 4 visits a year to Algolagnia Alley. though of course it didn't work out to any regular pattern. A couple of our girls actually liked being whipped: and there were a couple more who could take it easily. (like Candy, who married the steel millionaire): naturally I tried to arrange it so that they were used rather than the kids who hated it, and couldn't stand the pain. for of course it tended to break their spirit, which spoilt them for their work.
I have some photos here which might amuse you, Max. After we lost Candy, Don Marco made it a rule that whipping-sessions should be photographed, to give The Organization some sort of hold over the man: and this was doubly valuable, because of course it was only the very rich who could afford the cost anyway. so our photos represented 'useful contacts'. (as Don Marco used to put it). with some very influential men.
Here's a picture of one of Boston's really brilliant young lawyers getting to work on our Dolores. I thing it's fairly evident that she was a very good-looking number: and Sam and his boys had laid her out most tastefully, don't you agree?. Lying on her back on that narrow bench with her hands held down on either side by the wristcuffs set on the central pillar, and the broad leather strap cinched tight across her stomach, she certainly made a most attractive picture: and her big firm breasts were nicely vulnerable. (Mr. Lawyer was a 'tit-man', so this was an important point). Then they had raised her legs at right angles to her body, opened them wide, and pinioned her feet in anklets set at either end of the spreader-bar suspended from the ceiling. It re-ally was a most rewarding position from Mr. L's point of view, Max! The whole of her body was so beautifully available . breasts, buttocks, thighs back and front and insides too), arsehole, cunt, clitoris. all there, right under his hand. If he straddled this end of the bench, he could fuck her or bugger her with equal ease: if he straddled the other end, his prick was right above her mouth, ready to be sucked off.
Mr. L. was by no means one of our fiercer sadists. he used to get his kicks without making the girl bleed: and he wasn't particularly 'complicated'. didn't go in for odd instruments, and torture, and so on. He just liked whipping the soft flesh of a naked girl. He'd had Dolores before, and she knew pretty well what the form was. He'd take her three times. once in each body-hole, and once in the mouth: and he'd use a variety of weapons on her. the cane, the scourge of knotted cords, nettle-birches, a thin leather thong, perhaps. and almost certainly he'd give her a prolonged, exhausting, private orgasm with a double dildo reaming in and out of her defenseless cunt and arsehole.
There was one little trick of his that had caused her trouble when he had had his previous session: and the same thing happened again this time. He caned her buttocks till they were a fiery sea of pain; and then he fucked her: and next he birched her thighs and belly, first with nettles, then with a little switch of hazel twigs; and after that he buggered her. So far, Dolores could withstand it, though she was becoming exhausted from the pain, and from the searing orgasms that he had induced when he came in her helpless body. Then he spent a long time on her breasts, turning them an angry red with a thorough nettle-birching, before setting them dancing in agony under the wicked stinging blows of the scourge of thin knotted cords: and though she was screaming full-throated at the martyrdom of her poor globes, the situation was still more or less under control, if you know what I mean.
. until Mr. L. Straddled her face, and presented his semi-stiff prick at her open, shouting mouth: and she took it in. to taste the bitter-sweet traces of its last lodging-place, her own soft velvet rectum. I was never able to understand why Dolores made such a fuss over sucking Mr. L's slightly-soiled cock: she had no objections to him as a person. he was always clean and well-groomed, and his prick had been nowhere but in her own body: and she would think nothing of reaming a customer's arsehole with her tongue, which one would have thought a far more displeasing task. But there it was. the silly girl spat his cock out in disgust, and turned her head away with a defiant cry of "No!."
Mr. L. was quite good-tempered about it. He was astride the bench, sitting on her sore, swollen breasts so that a slight forward bend of his body would send his prick into Dolores' mouth. He presented himself again; and again she rejected him. Then he dismounted, to tweak her viciously on the nipples before saying ominously. "Last chance, Dolores!". a threat which brought a further stubborn "No!" from the captive beauty.
Mr. L. shrugged his shoulders, picked up the scourge of knotted cords, and positioned himself by Dolores' waist, facing the open V of her long slim legs held immobile by the aerial spreader-bar. His arm came up. to send the biting little cords hissing down three times into the crimson gash of her un-protected cunt. Dolores' three desperate shrieks of agony signaled the end of her pointless revolt: and within the minute the sobbing girl was sucking frantically at the lawyer's rigid prick. taste or no taste.
Now you will note that the fact that she finished up with a red, swollen, painful cunt that looked like a slab of raw meat was her fault, not his. As I said at the start, Mr. L. was actually fairly moderate in his sadism; but after all, you don't expect to pay $1000 and be argued with!
I don't think any girl ever tried arguing with The Big! He's the man in the next two photos here. and a real mean bastard he was! He was a multi-millionaire contractor, and spending $7000 or $8000 a year on flagellation meant nothing to him. He even had his own equipment, which he'd had made outside and brought in by arrangement with Don Marco. The girls all hated him. he was a pig in looks (hence his nickname), and a pig by nature: and one of the things they disliked most was the completely impersonal way he treated them in the whipping-room. With Mr. L., for example, there was always the feeling of a 'shared experience'. even though it might be very painful experience: but when he fucked you, he made sure that you came too: and he made you feel that he knew you were in the room with him. But with The Pig. no! As Caroline said. (that's Caroline in these two pictures, front and back). "It's as though there were a screen between him and the rest of humanity. I'd hate to be as lonely as he is. ". which was actually quite a generous thought from a girl who'd just been whipped brutally till she bled.
As you can see, it was quite brutal, too! The Negroes had pegged her out for him on one of his clever inventions: you can see how she has to kneel very widespread, because the base of the machine is so wide: then she's been pulled back along this quarter-circle, so that the front of her naked body arches like a bow: see how those tendons in her groin are standing out. and doesn't it look exactly as if she was pushing her cunt out at you, deliberately? And you can just see her hand down the side here, with the wrist-cuff clipped onto the anklet, and then both of them to this ring in the side of the base here, so that she can't shift herself off the quarter-circle along the rim of which her arched back is resting. And finally they wound that big dildo up into her cunt, and left her waiting for The Pig.
Well, you can see the form from the photo, Max! That three-thonged lash is doing her no good at all. every stroke leaves three long red angry weals. breasts, belly, thighs. The Pig covers them all impartially: and when she twitches and jerks in agony, she murders herself on that huge dildo. Caroline told me she tried deliberately to give herself as many orgasms as possible, to make herself faint sooner, and so escape the pain. But The Pig was skilful: and his strokes were never hard enough to grant her the release of unconsciousness. not yet, at any rate: and when the front of her body was one shrieking wilderness of pain, with blood oozing from her stripes in half a dozen places, he clambered up the steps behind and thrust his prick at her back-flung face, and made her suck him off.
Then he had the Negroes in, and they took her off the quarter-circle: but it wasn't the end of her ordeal by any means. she still had the second act to come. Now they tied her out on The Pig's cunning 'kneeling-block'. see how she's pinioned at ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists: and then that big strap round her waist, pulling her right down hollow-backed, so that her arse sticks out in rounded prominence. When The Pig got to work with that spiked hairbrush affair on her bare buttocks, it was absolute murder. as you can easily see from the photo. Actually, there isn't much to tell you, Max. you can see that the spikes aren't long enough to cause permanent wounding: but nevertheless Caroline was soon in absolute agony as the whole surface of her soft, pretty globes was progressively covered with little punctures. It wasn't long before her arse was reduced to a shiny mask of red. which was just what The Pig was waiting for. He laid his brush aside, knelt down behind poor Caroline. and licked her buttocks clean, grunting with pleasure at the salty taste of the blood! He really was a pig, Max!
Then he buggered her: and mercifully, at the intrusion of his huge impatient prick, she fainted. I say 'mercifully', for The Pig treated a tight sensitive arsehole just as though it was a well-used, elastic cunt. he fucked it, hard and fast, so that the sphincter muscle was bruised for days. causing poor Caroline much pain and embarrassment when she went to take a crap! (But I will admit, Max, that a well-shot close-up sequence, in colour film, of an arsehole snapping in and out as a man's prick buggers it, never fails to arouse the spectators! So, even though The Pig was a pig, the fact that he liked turning Caroline's arsehole inside out shouldn't be held against him. it's a thing all men enjoy!)
Well, that's enough about The Pig. Luckily, he didn't have much stamina, and his two orgasms in Caroline's mouth and arse were enough for him. until next time, when I'd have to give the word to Sam, much against my will, and see one of my girls dragged screaming down to the whipping-rooms, to be tied up ready for The Pig to torture.
Chapter Nineteen
Who have we got here. ? Why, it's Doc! This was Boston's top surgeon, Max: quite young, and very gifted, and you've seen his name in the papers recently, doing transplants, the same as Barnard and De Bakkey: you'd know him immediately if I told you his name.
The girl's Karen, who played 'Ella' in that blue film I described earlier on. I told you she was a good-looking little piece, didn't I!
I think Doc must have been the least unpopular of all our sadists. No one except a masochist actually enjoys being whipped: but Doc did at least try to make his sessions bearable for the girl. They were long, exhausting sessions. (he always got his $1000 worth, all right!). and his girl invariably had her full dose of pain: but somehow, he seemed to make the thing possible. he always saw to it that she had plenty of orgasms: and he could be merciful at the most surprising times: and the girls all knew instinctively that he knew all about pain, from being a doctor, and wouldn't go too far: and above all, he made them feel that their pain was necessary, and that they were doing something useful when they screamed under his lash. So, all in all, I never minded too much when he booked a whipping-room: I knew his girl would be fairly treated, and suffer no damage to her spirit. even though she might have a very sore arse for a week or ten days!
Doc was waiting impatiently in the room when Sam and Marvin brought Karen in. He was stark naked, with a lovely big cockstand on him that argued an exhausting evening for the pretty blonde. "Lay me that beautiful bitch on the couch, boys!," said Doc gaily, "and jack those long legs back so that I can fuck that little cunt of hers!" Then, to Karen. "That'll take the edge off me, darling, and I'll be able to whip your little arse for a good long time without interruption!". then he was up on the bed and deep into her widespread cunt, as the Negroes immobilized the slim graceful body in the doubled-up position that Doc had ordered.
His skilful technique brought her to a long satisfying orgasm that had her squirming and shouting beneath his hard muscular body, though he restrained himself from spending with her. Then, after a pause, he started off again with his deep, steady piston-drive that sent his big hard prick shuttling deliriously in and out of Karen's defenceless cunt. Excited now by the feel of her soft, silky body writhing under his, and by the knowledge that for the whole of the evening all this naked beauty was his to use as he would. to whip, to fuck, to sodomize, to birch, as his fancy might dictate. he made no effort this time to restrain himself: and Karen's sobbing cry of ecstasy as she came for the second time was matched by his gasps of pleasure as his straining prick sought the innermost depths of her vagina as it shot the hot spunk high into her shuddering body.
"Wrists on the pillar, please, Sam!," he said quietly a little later: and for a moment or two he sat on the edge of the couch savouring the spectacle of the naked blonde struggling in the grasp of the two powerful Negroes as they pinioned her slim wrists in the two leather cuffs attached to the steel stanchion supporting the ceiling-beam. Then he picked up a short leather thong, some two feet in length, and walked over to his lovely captive.
"Going to bugger that pretty little arsehole of yours next, Karen love!," he said in friendly tones. "I don't suppose it'll take more than fifty strokes to get me ready. !" The thong cracked home across her naked buttocks: her eyes widened at the sudden pain, and her mouth opened in a cry of protest. just as you see her in the photo here, Max, and don't you agree she looks very beautiful being whipped? You can almost see that thigh quivering, and look at that pretty tit just about to leap all over the place as she twists her shoulders! The photo shows her after Doc had delivered five strokes. count 'em, Max, they show up very clearly!. and you'll note how the whole arse has gone a nice angry red round the throbbing weals.
Actually, Doc was ready for a second helping after giving Karen a round dozen strokes. she knew, of course, that there was no substance in his threat of fifty: but she had done what she could to ensure that it was twelve, and not twenty, by twist-and-turning her naked body as lasciviously as possible as the thong fell painfully across her arse, so that Doc's lust might be more rapidly aroused. Within the minute the slim quivering body was trussed up in a 'deep-kneel' position on the couch, hands and feet pinioned firmly to a spreader-bar, and arsehole in full view in the widely-parted crack, all ready for the coming rape.
But first, Doc had a sly little torment to visit on his helpless blonde sex-slave. He leapt astride her, as though upon a horse. but facing backwards: then he called out imperiously. "Sam! Quick. the scourge!" The little knotted cords swung from the handle with a vicious hiss as he tested the weapon: and poor Karen seemed to shrink within herself as her imagination felt the cruel knots whistling down into her open cunt. But Doc had a subtler and more ignominious punishment in mind. Carefully, he separated the cords and tucked them back along the handle. all except one, which remained hanging in a ridiculous travesty of the erstwhile painful scourge that had drawn so many shrieks of pain from so many naked girls. Doc shifted his grip on the handle and the five captive cords, so that the free one was shortened to a mere six inches long: then he raised his arm. and proceeded to whip Karen on the half-open arsehole with the end knot of the little cord. In the end, her hole went numb under the rain of light, stinging blows: but for the first fifty strokes, with their maddening little stinging bites, she was shouting with ever-increasing urgency as her anus dissolved slowly into a pool of pain. Only when the half-open mouth of the trim little arsehole was puffed and swollen from the savage kisses of the little end-knot did Doc lay the scourge aside. Then he greased her well, and buggered her, frigging her expertly on her clitoris so that she came twice before her aching ring, dancing involuntarily on his intruding prick, succeeded in pulling him off into a long shuddering orgasm that had him gasping with pleasure as he shot his spunk high up into her bowels.
With a sigh of happiness, Doc withdrew his prick from Karen's arsehole: for a moment or two he feasted his eyes on the delicious spectacle of her whip-marked buttocks: he stroked the twelve throbbing weals gently, so that Karen cried out in alarm. Then he cried gaily. "Now for those titties! Upside down X, please, Sam. high up!"
Wristlets, anklets, ceiling-trapeze. the skilled Negroes went swiftly through the steps; and soon Karen was hanging from her ankles with her legs well spread, and the trapeze was drawn up till her two firm breasts were at a convenient height for Doc's attentions: then Sam immobilized her arms with long cords running down from her wristlets to ring-bolts in the floor. Now Karen was ready for the torture of her tits.
Doc spent a long five minutes birching the two lovely globes with nettles, while Karen's shouts resounded through the room. Her naked body writhed ceaselessly under the stinging caresses of the fiery green leaves, and soon the crop of little red papules had spread over the whole of the creamy hillocks, fusing into one vast nettle-sting that made the swollen breasts look one size larger. Then Doc picked up a long thin cane. "As I told you last time, Karen love," he said pleasantly, "it's an old wives' tale that a bruise on the breast turns to cancer. I whipped your tits nicely last time. right? Did you get cancer? No! So what are you worrying about. ?" He amused himself for a few moments by swishing the cane through the air and then arresting it at the last second, while Karen tensed herself desperately for a blow that never fell: but suddenly, when she was lulled into a false sense of security, he followed through in earnest, and the thin cane bit viciously into the throbbing red globes, drawing a scream of pain from the helpless blonde.
Eyes flashing with lust and prick now once more standing rigid against his stomach, Doc gave her three more cruel strokes that had her shrieking with agony as three burning red weals sprang up across her poor aching breasts: then he took careful aim, and sent a fifth stroke whistling in to land fair and square across the two coral nipples. For a moment Karen went rigid in her bonds as the dreadful pain ran through her body: then she shuddered all over, and a desperate howl burst from her throat: her hands worked frantically at the ends of the restraining cords, as she tried vainly to bring them up to protect her martyred breasts. She seemed quite oblivious of the fact that Doc had now cast aside the cane and stepped forward to the helpless body hanging upside down in its revealing X position: nor did she seem to notice when his hand went down to his throbbing prick, to bend it down horizontal so that he could poke it into Karen's yelling mouth. which her carefully calculated position brought nicely to the proper height. But once the big rod of red pulsing flesh was lodged in her mouth, she seemed to accept it instinctively. And so she sucked him off, almost unthinkingly, as his hands played skilfully over her widespread cunt: and as his orgasm approached, he frigged her more and more insistently on her throbbing clitoris, till finally she burst into an orgasm that for a little while replaced her pain with pleasure.
Doc had now dealt very faithfully with his blonde victim's buttocks, tits, and arsehole: and in her upside down position poor Karen was well situated to be punished in the remaining areas of his programme. Using the little scourge of knotted cords once more, he started first with the tender soles of her pretty feet, standing up on a chair to compensate for Karen's position well off the floor. As the toes of one foot curled up in agony, Doc remarked pleasantly. "Of course, it isn't your little feet you should be worrying about, love! You know where we're going next, don't you. ?". a question to which the pretty victim knew the answer only too well: and she was screaming desperately even before the knotted cords hissed down for the first time onto the soft backs of the slim, quivering thighs.
He whipped her slowly, with exquisite precision, laying a band of red, stinging agony some three inches wide all round one pretty thigh, and then repeating the good work on the other leg. Then he returned to his first target: and now Karen's shrieks were heart-rending, as Doc finished his second ring around the other thigh. The third ring was higher still, up in the crotch where the tendons were standing out against the pull of the widespread legs. "Any moment now!," said Doc cheerfully. He paused, and let the six cords dangle from the handle, so that the little end-knots tickled Karen's open cunt. She moaned at the contact: then a chilling scream rang out as Doc's hand flashed down, to send the knotted cords whistling into the naked, gaping quim.
No more than three strokes had fallen before the poor tortured victim lapsed into the blessed release of unconsciousness. Quickly, Doc had the Negroes take her inert body down, and lay it on a fucking-couch: while the long slim legs were held wide open by the grinning attendants, he pushed his muscular body between the scarlet thighs and fucked the swollen blonde-bushed cunt with rapid powerful strokes.
Chapter Twenty
Shall we just run rapidly through some of these photos? They were all taken down in the whipping-rooms: and with your tastes, Max, you ought to find them quite amusing!
This one shows Annette being tortured by a Senator from Washington: he was The Pig's guest for the evening. some big government contract was involved, and The Pig wanted to sweeten him up. Annette's been strapped out on The Pig's quarter-circle thing, all bent back and open, with that great dildo up her cunt. (and what you can't see is the inch-wide ring of short, bristly horsehair up near the knob of the dildo. Annette could hardly move without spending!) The Senator's torturing her with a lighted cigar. not actually burning her, but holding the glowing end close enough to her flesh to make a red scorch-mark. Look at all the curlicues and arabesques and what-not, spiralling down from her nipples in symmetrical loops and whorls!. and see this futuristic design centred on her navel! Very artistic, don't you think? And later, he had her turned over, and scorched his initials onto her buttocks: and then he buggered her. I never discovered whether The Pig got the contract or not!
And here's Alec, supervising a punishment-session. She's a pretty girl, isn't she?. That's Moira, a red-head, as you can see! Alec introduced us to this remarkably simple bondage-position that Moira's in. just an ordinary pair of wristcuffs, and the girl's completely mastered! First, he made her sit tailor-fashion, with her ankles crossed and her heels drawn right up towards her body; then he took her hands and brought them down inside her thighs: then he pulled her forearms out under her knees, so that her hands were now outside again. Look, you can see it quite plainly in the photo! Then he made her wiggle her torso a bit, and drop her shoulders down, till she'd got her elbow-joints right in under her knee-joints: and in this position he was able to get her two wrists close enough together to clip the two cuffs together on top of her crossed ankles: then he tipped her gently ver onto her back. At first, Moira laughed. she was sure she could pull her feet out easily enough: but actually, it's completely impossible! It really is a most satisfying position!. the girl just has to lie there, in no discomfort at all, but completely unable to move. all she can do is turn her head, and waggle her hands and feet. And is she ever vulnerable, with her arse tight-bent and completely wide-open! You can see from the photo how Alec murdered her with those knotted cords. cunt, thighs, arse-hole. he sure gave her a good working-over!
This is rather a rude one, isn't it? I simply don't remember who the man is. but the girl's Dolores. the same one who refused to suck Mr. L's prick after he'd buggered her, and got her little cunt whipped in consequence. I remember her telling me after this particular scene here how helpless she felt trying to support herself on her hands like that: she'd no idea her body was so heavy!. and of course she couldn't actually hang from her ankles on the pillar here. they haven't been tied high enough up on it, though I suppose they do take some of her weight. But of course the real teasing part is the two bristle-pads on the floor here, under her naked pendant breasts. They really are nasty spiky things; and her tits were sore for days afterwards. for of course there was no hope of her supporting herself on her arms forever, and in the end she simply collapsed straight downwards, so that her tits got absolutely murdered. And as you will see, that's not a very nice thong he's whipping her naked arse with! It was a great heavy thing, and poor Dolores was bleeding after about the third stroke. and she took nine, before she collapsed. The only other thing I can remember about this one is that he had her five times. and was still randy at the end!
Now this one I'm not supposed to have at all. The man was in The Organization. Detroit, I think: anyway, he was a friend of Don Marco's. But at the time, we didn't know this. so I had him photographed, as normal routine. When Don Marco found out about it, he told me to destroy the photo. which I did, but somehow this one got overlooked. It isn't the best one, incidentally. though I must say the look of agony on her face is very vivid, isn't it?. and see how her ringers are standing all separate, and actually bending back a little! Alec said once that they still use the birch at Eton, the English public school, and they always have the boy examined by the doctor beforehand, it's known to be such a shattering experience. I must say Judy here doesn't seem to be enjoying it, does she? But there was worse in store for her. the man had brought along a funny pad thing with a hole in the middle: and when he'd finished birching Judy he put this on over his prick and made it fast with cords round his waist and thighs: and the outside was all covered with tiny little sharp spikes sticking up from the surface of the pad. In the original set of photos there was one showing the look of horror on Judy's face when she realized what it was going to be like being buggered by him with that pad on: I wish I could have kept that one, Max. though actually, this birching one's not too bad, is it?
Here's another punishment one. This is Elsa, a very pretty red-headed kid who had a fiery temper that was always getting her into trouble. She's certainly in trouble here, isn't she? She's been up on tiptoes straddling this high ridge thing far too long. look at the way her calf muscles are all strained! But if she lets down even a centimetre, she gets those little bristles right in her open cunt. And of course with her arms strapped behind her back, and her ankles shackled to ringbolts in the floor, she's pretty helpless. They've made her bend forward from the hips, as you can see, so that she can suck off Sam's mate standing at the end of the ridge-block, while Sam whips her naked arse with that riding-switch. (I forget what she'd done, but it must have been fairly serious, or we wouldn't have been using such a cutting weapon. you can see how most of the stripes are oozing blood). But what you can't see is Sam's mate edging a little backwards all the time, so that in the end poor Elsa simply overbalanced, and fell forward onto the top of the ridge, so that the bristles got her straight up the front of her body, from her cunt to the valley between her breasts, sending her almost frantic with pain. The Negroes wanted to lift her up and start all over again, on the grounds that she hadn't completed her suck-off: but I felt we could show her a little mercy. she was quite a gifted performer when she wasn't being bad-tempered: so I had them take her off the bristle-ridge and move straight on to the whipping of her tits.
Now this old gentleman is one of the last of the railroad tycoons. He must have been at least in his late sixties, but he still enjoyed himself. usually upstairs, but with an occasional session in the whipping-rooms, as you see here. The big strapping blonde's Margot, of course: and Mr. Railroad had quite a programme for her, as I think you can see. though the photo shows only the half of it. The Negroes hung Margot up by her ankles in an upside down. Then they helped Mr. R. up onto this chair in front of her, and a bit to one side: he had the scourge of knotted cords, as you can see. Sam hopped up onto another chair set at her side, so that he could whip her arse with that three-thonged knout: and his mate. who was left-handed. knelt down to birch her breasts, but he had to watch his strokes carefully so that they didn't get caught on Mr. R's chair. Then Mr. R. gave a count-down. "Ten! Nine! Eight!". and so on. "Three! Two! One! FIRE!". and all three of them hit Margot simultaneously and very hard, so that she gave a great shriek of pain. Then came what I always thought was the really nasty bit. Mr. R. would make her talk about the three strokes. I had to coach the girl every time, so that she said something like. "It was just terrible across my arse and my soft titties! But oh! Daddy R., you nearly murdered my poor little cunt! All those nasty knots on my tender open cunt-lips. aiyeee!!". and that would make Mr. R's tired old prick perk up. And then he'd give the count-down for another dreadful triple stroke: and when Margot had stopped screaming, and excited him by talking about it, he would frig her off into a magnificent orgasm by fingering her clitoris as she hung there helpless. He'd do that twice more. he never varied: six of those awful three-fold strokes. (but remember, that meant eighteen stripes across her naked arse!). and three orgasms: and then he'd have the Negroes take her down. To finish, he lay back in an armchair and made her suck him off as she knelt in front of him, with her back hollowed and her bleeding arse pushed out prominently behind: then Sam handed her a big double dildo, and moved a pier-glass up behind her; and Margot had to wank herself off with the dildoes in her two holes as she sucked Mr. R's prick, while he watched her in the mirror.
And here's three or four 'quickies' to end up with. This is rather a sexy close-up, wouldn't you say? I've no idea who she is, but she's certainly not hiding any of her goodies, tied up in Alec's 'tailor position' like that, is she? She's had the birch on her arse and thighs, of course: and I rather like the delicate sort of way the man's forefinger at attacking her clitoris, don't you? Here's another close-up. you could win first prize at a portrait exhibition with this one, Max!. call it "The Face of Pain". It's Judy: but I haven't the faintest idea what they were doing to her. though it must have been something quite unpleasant!. do you see how the whites of her eyes are showing all round, and her nostrils have flared out?. And here's Dolores, all draped in chains. that was for a blue film, I recall. When you're making a sadist film, you mustn't give the girl so much pain that she's unable to act the way the script calls for: and yet the actual Strokes have got to be seen landing on her body at proper strength. -It's not always easy to make it look good: but quite often one uses a very light 'fake' weapon at full strength, and then 'improves' the marks on the girl's body with professional make-up. Dolores wasn't actually bleeding at all her. Here's Elsa having her arse whipped by two of the Negroes at once. Sam and the left-handed one. Peter, his name was: that must have been another punishment-session. Another one of Karen, being birched on the breasts this time: and here's a close-up of her ruined titties afterwards. And this one. and this. -Tell you what, Max!. you take the box away with you, and have a good browse through the lot. but mind you let me have them back when you've finished:
Chapter Twenty-One
We used to go in for exhibitions a good deal. we found they made an excellent start for a real thorough orgy! Let's see what I can remember in that line.
'The Race Game' was always a popular one with our customers. perhaps the opportunity to do a little betting had something to do with it. It was quite a simple idea, really. We chose six girls to be the 'horse': they lay down side by side on a high fucking-couch, on their backs with their legs in the air and their arses overhanging the edge of the couch just an inch or so. Then the 'jockey' passed down the line. Sam or one of his boys, or perhaps some customer who was feeling specially randy that evening: he would start at the left of the line of waiting cunts, put his knob just inside the open lips of No. 1, ream her deeply twice and no more. In. Out! In. -Out!. and pass quickly to No. 2, and so on down the line: when he'd given No. 6 her two quick strokes, he'd go back to the beginning and start off again with No. 1. The winner was the 'horse' the 'jockey' happened to be riding when he came.
A simple game, but quite amusing when played among friends. We used to put cardboard numbers, I to 6, on the wall above the girls, and the men would back their fancy. the winning ticket paid 90%, with 10% going to the house: in the event of a tie, those who backed the winner split the pool two ways, or three ways, or whatever.
When the evening's clientele included several millionaires. as it very often did. there would be a brisk business in side bets. it seems these big business men just have to try and outsmart each other, even when they're naked in the brothel!. and it was not at all uncommon for a lucky winner to gain $1000 from his companions, and take it out in trade straight away, with the result that some unfortunate girl who was prepared only for the pleasant exhaustion of an evening's orgy among friends found herself dragged by the Negroes down to Algolagnia Alley, to spend the next hour shrieking in the agony of an impromptu flagellation session.
The Race Game had a variant, which could be used instead of the 'single jockey' act, or as an addition to it. This time, the six girls were kneeling fully bent, so that their naked arses were thrust out impudently at the audience. Each girl's partner for the evening was riding her, astride her body but facing backwards: and each man was leaning forwards so that he could manipulate a slim smooth arsehole-dildo deep within the girl's rectum. Naturally, this intimate attention from her 'jockey' kept each 'horse' in spirited condition! And her excitement was in no way diminished by the regular passage of 'Sam the Starter' or his assistant, who moved down the line from 1 to 6 in regular rotation, with a battery-operated electric vibrator, which he held with telling effect against each defenseless little red clitoris in turn, pushing the buzzing rubber pad against the sensitive bud of flesh with a steady chant of. "ON. and one. and two. and OFF!", before moving swiftly to the next moist, twitching cunt. Finally, one girl would De-come the winner by bursting into orgasm, much to the amusement of the audience, who found it highly diverting to watch the pretty cunt working madly as it spent, with the arsehole-dildo above jerking rhythmically under the muscular contractions of the winner's fully-exposed sexual parts.
Our shows were not always quite so good-tempered as the Race Game: for example, none of my girls ever admitted to enjoying the act we called the 'Bicycle Ride'. This was a pleasant little semi-sadist gimmick, which always stiffened up the customers' pricks. even the most normal of men gets a kick out of watching a pretty girl undergoing sexual discomfort! We used to run the act either as a 'race' between two girls, or as an 'endurance test', for one alone: and it went like this.
We had a couple of exercise-bicycles. you know the thing I mean, Max, with an adjustable brakeband over the rear wheel to alter the amount of effort called for from the rider. Well, ours were 'doctored' a bit. an attachment had been fitted which made the ride hard and bumpy, as though one were passing along an endless stretch of cobbles: the rider's wrists and ankles passed through stout leather cuffs, so that she could neither dismount nor change her posture appreciably: and finally, each saddle carried a hard rubber dildo jutting up from it at an angle carefully chosen to match the forward bend of a woman's body riding a bicycle.
Once on the 'seat of little ease', with the dildo firmly up her cunt, the girl had little option but to pedal frantically, against whatever brake-pressure the master of ceremonies had been pleased to choose. If she tried to obtain relief from the big dildo reaming her vagina, by standing up on the pedals, or if she pedalled too slowly, Sam's minions were at hand with very light thin leather thongs on her body.
She counted herself lucky if both machines were which stung like a hornet, but left almost no mark set out on our little stage. for this meant a race with some companion, and the first orgasm would be the end of it. But one machine alone could mean that she must go on pedalling until she had achieved an unstated number of climaxes, always with the thin lashes to spur her on.
A lot of our exhibitions were of course nothing particularly special. you could have seen them in any decent house anywhere in the civilized world. the girl being sandwiched, or tripled; two girls doing 69; things like that. Even Margot being fucked by the Boxer dog could be duplicated easily enough. (though you won't actually see this being done as often as you'll read about it!): but I think you'll find that few houses will offer you a spectacle to match Margot being fucked by one Boxer and sucking off another at the same time. (And here, let me tell you something that I bet you don't know about your own Specialist Club, Max! You remember how we gave Madam Cora a bit of assistance a few months back!. There was your Janice, and Abby. yes? And Abby took on both Neil Frazer's Great Danes at once, remember?. Where do you think Abby got that idea from?. Madam Cora, of course!. And the minute I heard about it, I knew Cora must have come from one of The Organization's houses somewhere: so I asked her, and she told me. she'd put her time in at the top house in Detroit. That dog-sucking bit's an absolutely typical Organization routine: and I don't suppose you'll find it much outside The Organization's houses. though it's funny how these thing do spread, and I suppose Abby doing it the other day is an example. )
Some of our shows, however, were definitely out of the ordinary, and you wouldn't see them elsewhere. (though here again I mustn't be dogmatic: if we filmed the thing and sent it off to Houston, they'd probably try it out, and so it would begin to spread. ). I know for a fact that Alec's trick with Margot handling twelve pricks at once was original with us: and so was the sequel, which we tried out a few weeks later, when we experimented to see how many cunts a man could deal with at one time. Our answer was seven. Most people can see four limbs, a tongue, and a prick: but not too many get the seventh, Max! It's done with a special double-ended dildo. There's a thin arm which the man takes in his arsehole: and this turns into a thick vertical arm on which the seventh girl impales herself and rides up and down on.
As a matter of fact, it should be possible to pleasure nine girls at once: and I suggest you try it out one Saturday here at the Club! Girl No. One lies on her back, and the man fucks her normally. No. Two squats over No. One's face, so that he can tongue her on the clitoris. No. Three's got one of his feet lodged between her thighs, and has positioned herself so that his big toe can frig her on the button: and No. Four's the same. The girl with the dildo in his arsehole makes No. Five. That just leaves his hands: and I do think it should be possible, using a little ingenuity, to place a couple of girls on either side with their legs in such a position that each hand could deal with two cunts at once. after all, an average hand can span a good 8 or 9 inches between thumb and little finger, so I'm sure it could be managed. and that would bring it up to nine.
I look forward to watching you try it out, Max!
Chapter Twenty-Two
I suppose that most of The Palomino's acrobatic repertoire should really have been counted in the exhibition class, though she never seemed to think there was anything special about her performances. When we put her on the exhibition stage, she was just as cheerful and willing as ever. I remember one evening we 'sold' her to the audience for $10 a spend. The first volunteer came up onto the stage and lay down on his back: then the Negroes supported her in that incredible horizontal 'splits' of hers, so that her cunt was a couple of feet above the man's face; and she steadied herself with one hand on a rope hanging from above. We gave the man a parrot's feather, and told him to get to work: he had a pleasant and intimate view of his target, while the others feasted their eyes on the spectacle of the lovely naked body writhing in lust, with the honey-coloured mane rippling and glinting in the light as she tossed her head in ecstasy, and her free hand teasing herself on the nipples. Her position left her quite defenseless against the maddening feather as it brushed slowly along the lips of her pretty cunt, now titillating the rigid little clitoris, now poking inquisitively into the warm wet hole of her vagina, till finally our pretty Palomino stiffened into orgasm with a strangled cry, her head flung back as she jerked rhythmically on the Negroes' supporting hands: and the man below gasped with pleasure as the juices of her spend leaked from her twitching cunt to fall in warm droplets onto his face beneath. Then I tapped him on the shoulder, and he hastened back to his partner and fucked her till she squealed, while the next volunteer came up onstage to get his $10 worth of cunt-tickling with the parrot's feather.
Everybody seemed to want to get into the act that evening, and The Palomino had five orgasms before her strength gave out. Of course we added it to our repertoire of exhibitions, but in future we limited The Palomino's orgasms to three. which meant we had to draw lots for her, for she was so popular that nearly every male in the audience would gladly have paid $10 for the privilege of tickling her cunt till she came.
Sometimes our exhibitions were unplanned! There was one evening when we had about ten couples in the salon: we'd just seen one of the latest blue films our opposite numbers in Houston had sent up, when suddenly a fight broke out between Elsa, our quick-tempered redhead, and another girl. The first I knew of it, both girls had rolled off the couch and were scrambling about on the floor: I went to stop them. but the audience wouldn't let me. "No. let's see the fun!," they all chorused.
Elsa had more weight than her opponent, but the other girl was very wiry. as Elsa soon discovered. She had pushed a knee into Elsa's stomach and managed to heave her off, and had now rolled over on top of her and was clawing at her hair and banging her head on the floor. Dammit!. what was her name, Max!. I simply can't remember: but I haven't forgotten how very sexy she looked with her buttocks all tensed into tight, hollowed globes, and her breasts bobbing to and fro as she pounded away at Elsa, lying half-helpless underneath her.
Then Elsa got her hands free, and started landing some heavy punches on the other girl's breasts, which doubled her up with pain, and drew some approving claps from the men. who had formed a circle round the pair by now, and were thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of two naked girls fighting. as their rampant pricks showed only too plainly. Somehow, Elsa's opponent managed to get behind her: and suddenly the tables were turned, as the girl caught hold of Elsa's hair with one hand and pulled her head back, then smacked her across the face open-handed with the other hand, landing several heavy roundhouse blows till the tears gushed from Elsa's eyes.
Elsa gave a desperate twist that threw the other girl off balance: and now both girls lay panting on the floor, their grip on each other momentarily broken. The redhead was up on her feet before the other girl had recovered: wild with fury, she lashed out at her opponent with her bare feet, while the other girl lay protecting her face with her hands. Elsa concentrated her kicks on the girl's breasts and belly: and as her legs squirmed in pain, we could see her cunt was all moist with the primitive excitement of a woman battling with her rival. (for it turned out that the fight had started because the girl's partner was so drunk that she knew he would be useless to her that evening, and she had begun making sheep's eyes at Elsa's partner, hoping that he would invite her to join them for a threesome. and Elsa had objected).
Suddenly, with a deft movement, she trapped Elsa's foot, and threw her to the ground with a crash: then she pounced on the shaken redhead, plumped herself down on her panting stomach, and started twisting her naked breasts viciously. Elsa screamed with pain, and threw her arms forward instinctively: her clutching fingers made contact with the other girl's dark luxurious bush, and she tugged violently at it, so that the girl's yell of agony resounded through the room. Half-crazed with pain, she flung one arm out haphazardly; and now Fortune favoured her. for by a lucky chance, her flying hand caught Elsa across the throat in a classic. but quite unintentional. judo chop of a crippling nature. The unfortunate redhead's resistance collapsed at once: the accidental blow had cut off her breathing almost completely, so that she lay helpless, coughing and fighting for breath. Her opponent kicked her viciously in the unprotected cunt, then bent down and slapped her smartly across the face a couple of times: then she beckoned across the room to Elsa's erstwhile partner. and I must say no red-blooded man could have resisted her, all flushed with battle and panting from her exertions, with her pretty breasts rising and falling in most enticing fashion.
He came over willingly enough. he had more than an idea of what was expected of him. and the girl made him help her turn Elsa over onto her back and straighten out her helpless panting body: then she sat down squarely on the redhead's firm breasts and lay back along her body, resting her head in the V of the auburn-bushed crotch. Then she opened her legs to him. and he took her deeply and thoroughly, as she lay there stretched out on Elsa, using the body of her vanquished enemy contemptuously as her cushion while she was being soundly fucked by Elsa's partner.
I tried to add the scene to our repertoire of exhibitions: but somehow the fight never looked convincing when it was faked. as of course it must be between two girls who had no quarrel. I even tried staging it with Elsa and the same girl. but they had become good friends: the girl had apologized to Elsa for trying to take her man. (and for succeeding, too!!), and Elsa had apologized for being so bad-tempered: and the upshot was that once again the thing looked unconvincing. But I'll tell you one thing, Max! If you ever get a real no-holds-barred fight going between a couple of good-looking naked girls. set your movie camera up at once and get the thing down on film, for God's sake! It'll be worth its weight in gold.
And here's another thing that's very well worth watching. and that's a big buck Negro fucking a slim young blonde in time with the beat of Ravel's 'Bolero'. Now I know you've mentioned this particular little bit of entertainment already, Max, in one of your earlier Case Book items. it was in your piece on Britt's initiation, as I recall: you'd just described how she'd been 'sandwiched' to the tune of 'The Swedish Rhapsody', and had gone on to talk about the use of music in general, in exhibitions. and you happened to mention in passing that Hank and Aline had done the 'Bolero' act on our stage here at the Club. But I think you have to admit that it was I who suggested the idea to you in the first place, so I hope you'll let me take the credit for it, from the old Boston days. To tell the truth, it didn't actually originate in my house, I'm ashamed to say. I saw it first in one of the Houston films. and very beautifully they'd done it, too.
Both of the actors were clothed at the beginning. or at least half-clothed the girl was wearing a lot of diaphanous chiffon drapes in soft pastel shades, while the Negro had a loincloth made of glittering gold lame. very chi-chi!
The music started. that soft muted tapping on the drum. Dig! digetty-dig! digetty-dig-dig-dig!. and then the first wind instrument gave out the theme, and he began to take the chiffon veils off that lovely young blonde, who was standing there motionless, as if she'd been hypnotized: and then she was naked, and he spread her legs wide, and she just stood there with her head flung back and her young breasts up in the air: and as more instruments came in, and the music began to get louder and more insistent, he started playing with her cunt and her nipples, so that she began to writhe with lust. Then he threw his loincloth off, and circled her body, striking her loins and her buttocks and her golden bush with his stiff black rod: and then he stooped and slid the big throbbing cock into her waiting quim and clasped his hands under her firm buttocks and lifted her, and so paraded her round the stage in time with the beat of the Bolero.
And as the music got louder and louder, he went down onto his knees with the naked blonde still on his prick, and her blue eyes were staring dreamily; her legs went round him as he laid her down, and more and more instruments kept coming in. And then he was fucking her with short stylized little strokes, always in time with the music and her mouth was open now and she was panting and making her hips rise up to meet his prick-thrusts as he fucked her.
And right at the end, where the music explodes. so did he; and the blonde had been coming nonstop for some time already and when she felt the great flood of hot spunk pouring into her cunt she just turned her eyes up and passed out in ecstasy. and it was quite wildly sensual and exciting to see her lying there, completely fucked-out, under the powerful muscular black body that had just finished spending into her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Well, I suppose it's time to tell you how Don Marco ruined me. not that I think he meant to, mark you: he was just using me for his own purposes; and then he went and died very suddenly, leaving me right out on a limb with no hope of getting back. and here I am today, as a result.
It's a complicated story, Max, and not entirely easy to tell. I think I'd better do it in layers. first, what happened, the way I saw it: then the true explanation of what Don Marco was trying to do: and finally, what happened after his death.
It all started one day in June, when Don Marco sent for me. He told me The Organization were holding a conference in Boston over the whole of the following week: and that as the 'baron' for New England, he had a lot of entertaining to arrange. After a bit of discussion, he instructed me to close the house to our normal clientele for the whole week, and concentrate on looking after the delegates to the conference. Two days later he was back again: this time, he said that two very old friends had asked for something special. (and I remember to this day, Max, how he smiled at me when he said. "Down in Algolagnia Alley!"). He was arranging for two girls to be brought in from one of his other houses. Alberto the steward would look after all the details. I was to reserve the big whipping-room in the basement for six o'clock on the Monday evening. (when the girls would arrive): then I was to greet his guests around half-past six, take them downstairs, and run the programme for them. they weren't flagellation experts, and wouldn't know what to do; and in any case we didn't want the thing to get out of control, did we, with the girls perhaps getting seriously damaged? Then he went through the details of the programme with me.
I had the room all ready well before six o'clock on Monday evening. Alberto was up at the back entrance with Sam and one of the others: they were going to bring the girls straight down on the elevator and into the room, to be prepared. Shortly after the hour, I heard the elevator's telltale whine, and went out to greet the newcomers. To my surprise, no girls were visible. Alberto and the two Negroes were crowded to one side of the elevator, most of the floor space being taken up by two janitor's dollies, each carrying one of those large cylindrical plywood drums that are used in big offices to collect the waste paper at the end of the day: the only difference was that the two drums I was looking at had lids, held on by a bar across the top which was secured by a padlock. Obviously, Don Marco didn't wish the girls to see, or be seen, while they were being moved in!
The dollies were trundled into the whipping-room, and Alberto produced a key and unlocked the lids. I had a distinct shock when the interior of the first drum was revealed. Even though Don Marco had told me about the girls' costumes, I was unprepared for the bizarre spectacle that greeted my eyes as the two big Negroes lifted the first girl from her drum. She was clad from head to foot in a skin-tight body-stocking of dark crimson material. very thin, and pliable, so that every curve of her , body was closely moulded. The material looked like brushed suede, but was obviously some kind of stretch-elastic: and long seams up the back of both legs and down the right side of the body betrayed the presence of cunningly-fitted zippers.
The first thing one noticed, of course, was the Seabrook helmet. again in a dark crimson suedy-looking finish, though it was almost certainly covering some rigid plastic base. I know you know what a Seabrook helmet is, Max: but it may be new to some of your readers. so perhaps I'd better describe it? It's named after William Seabrook, the writer and explorer. (whom I actually knew personally: and was he ever a weirdo! He invented the helmet, and used it on several of his girls when he was doing his researches into Mysticism. but that's another story. ). The helmet covers the wearer's head completely: it fits as closely as possible, and buckles up round the throat. there's a sort of side vent that can be stretched open when the helmet's being put on. The front of the thing has no features on it. just a ridge over the nose, and two leather discs to form 'pretend' eyes, making it look like a 'modern-arty' mask. And there are no openings in it, except for a hole underneath the nose-ridge, to allow the wearer to breathe. So. the girl is blind. there are no eye-holes: she is deaf. there are no ear-holes, and rubber plugs in her own ears mean that she can obtain no audible warning of her master's coming actions. (everything is experienced by touch alone, and comes always as an unprepared surprise): and finally she is dumb. or at least comparatively so. for the mask fits closely under her chin, so that she cannot open her mouth: and her mumbled 'Mmm. mm. mm!' can escape only through the nose-hole, higher up.
Oh yes, the Seabrook helmet's an ingenious device: and as Don Marco had described, this particular type carried a stout eyelet on the top, for bondage purposes.
The next feature to catch the eye was the fact that the girl had no arms. at least, that's what it looked like at first glance! Her arms had been drawn behind her back and taped together with strong sticking-plaster, right wrist to left elbow and vice versa: and her costume had a horizontal pocket of material let into it across the back, so that her two forearms fitted snugly into their own special compartment, and the skin-tight effect was maintained all down the back.
Next I noticed the special boots, again in dark crimson suede. These were laced halfway up the calves, and were definitely 'fetichist', with their six-inch stiletto heels that threw the muscles of the calf into pleasing prominence. Each ankle was encircled by a band of shining steel, closed by a little padlock and carrying a ring to which a cord might be attached.
I have left the most spectacular feature of the costume to the last; this was the one that would appeal immediately to the customer, but meant fit-tie to those of us in the business, to whom the display of naked female flesh spelled 'livelihood', not 'entertainment'. At breasts and buttocks, the costume was completely cut away so that the naked flesh protruded, its pinky whiteness showing up in startling contrast with the crimson of the skin-tight body-stocking. The elasticity of the material dictated that some firm edge be provided, so that the costume would retain its shape around the cut-out portions. In front, two simple circlets of stiff wire sufficed to form convenient openings through which the naked breasts stood firm and proud: and to show Don Marco's attention to detail, the fuller breasts of the second girl had been duly allowed for. her circlets were slightly larger than those on the costume of her companion.
At the back, the arrangement was of necessity somewhat different. The girls were of course destined to be fucked and buggered: thus the whole of the crotch area must be bare. In fact, the only 'solid' portions of the costume, where the material ran uninterrupted by cut-outs, were those strips going up the front and the outside of the thighs, crossing the groin on either side of the bush, and joining the stomach panel: while at the back, the free edge ran up the side of the buttock, behind the hip-bone, and so into the back panel of the costume.
The problem of how to stop the long free edge of the stretch-elastic from creeping. (and it was a long edge, running right and left from the top of the girl's crack, round each buttock, down into the crotch and across the top of each inner thigh, and so out in front and up to join on top of the bush). was further complicated by the need for elasticity. each girl would have to bend down to be buggered: thus a stiff wire could not be used. Don Marco had solved the problem neatly, using flexible wire: a small ring was positioned in the crotch, at the 'blind spot' between cunt and arsehole, to act as anchor: from this one wire ran back to surround the protruding buttocks, with a second wire going out in front to draw the elastic material together round the girl's private parts.
Finally, as a nice little piece of 'cock-teasing', a detachable panel had been fitted to cover the front cut-out at the crotch. This panel was attached by a strip of Velcro tape, so that it could be pressed on or peeled off at will. With it, the girl's front presented the sexless appearance of a ballet dancer: without it, the naked cunt made her look eminently fuckable.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Both girls had been removed from their containers now: and while the Negroes wheeled the drums out of the room and into one of the store-rooms, I took the opportunity of inspecting the evening's victims at close quarters. One of the girls was tall, with a fine full figure. big firm breasts and an attractive pair of plump smooth white buttocks: I felt instinctively that she would turn out to be a blonde. She was standing quite still where the Negroes had placed her, apparently content to await her fate without protesting. (which common-sense clearly ruled out as pointless, anyway). The other girl was smaller, being of average height, with a slim figure: she had trim, firm buttocks, with a delightful little hollow at each side when she tensed her muscles, and small firm breasts that tip-tilted slightly upwards. From the creamy tint of her skin, she was obviously a brunette: arid I saw her as one of those slim, 'nervous-energy' girls whose muscles go absolutely rigid when they spend. She was wandering round blindly in little circles, taking small mincing steps on her six-inch heels: occasionally she would brush up against her companion, and the contact would make her shy violently away, so that once she stumbled and almost fell: then Alberto reached out and took her by one nipple, and after one wild startled plunge she froze into immobility.
Sam and his mate were soon back: and Alberto set them to work getting the girls into position for their flagellation. They started with big Blondie, moving her over with little pats and nudges until she was correctly positioned. Then Sam's assistant knelt at her feet, a little chain-and-swivel device in his hand; there were two clicks. and Blondie's left ankle was attached firmly to a ring-bolt in the floor. Sam's arms went round her shoulders, and he threw her off balance, jerking her body to the left, so that her right foot left the floor. In a flash, his mate had seized her by the ankle and drawn her leg over to the right, so that she was standing in a wide straddle: again the two clicks. and now she was immobilized in this widely-parted stance. All that remained to do was soon done. Sam let down a wire from the ceiling, his assistant hooked it into the eyelet on the top of Blondie's helmet, then Sam wound the wire in again until the pull of the helmet round her neck and jaws had her at full stretch, without possibility of any movement other than a shudder or a quiver. Then it was Brownie's turn: and soon she was standing wide-spread like her companion, with her neck stretched at full length by the pull of the helmet. Alberto walked forward to the motionless bodies in their bizarre crimson costumes. "Don Marco said I could screw them when his friends have finished. ," he told me conversationally: as he spoke, he was idly fingering Blondie's nipples until they stood out like little thimbles on the big firm breasts.
I suppose I should have known something was wrong, Max! Neither girl had had a kid. their nipples showed that very plainly: and surely out of two hookers from a house, at least one would be an unmarried mother, wouldn't you say? And then those crimson costumes. if I'd only thought, I would have realized that there wasn't a house in the neighbourhood that went in for such recherche stuff. dammit, who should know better than I, who ran the top-class, most expensive house in Boston? But because it was Don Marco, I just accepted what he'd told me, without thinking: and even if I had decided there was something wrong. well, what could I have done about it?
Then Alberto and the Negroes left, their tasks completed: I spent a few more minutes there, putting the equipment ready on the shipping-tables close to the two motionless bodies: then I went upstairs to greet Don Marco's guests.
They were an ill-favoured pair, I thought. The big one with the sandy hair and the pale blue eyes announced himself as Joe Morelli, while the other. smaller, and dark, with a fearful squint. was Tony Romano. They were not in the least bashful. "Don Marco says ya gotta coupla broads for us to bash". Morelli was making a statement, not asking a question. "And ya gotta show us what can do. we don't wanna kill 'em, see?". was Romano's contribution. "Follow me, please, gentlemen!," was all I said: and I led the way downstairs.
They were beside themselves with glee when they saw the two bodies prepared for their pleasure, and readily removed their clothing at my suggestion. Romano, who was in his early forties, was slim and well-preserved: and his long thin circumcised rod was standing proud and stiff already. Morelli, a bit older, had gone slightly flabby, with a bit of a pot-belly: but his big red cock looked well able to give a good account of itself. I told them we would start by turning the girls' arses the same colour as their costumes. an idea which pleased the two hoods immensely. I asked Morelli to take the big girl: he nodded his assent, then asked me.
"Hey, Sister, how do we get to fuck these broads?" They were delighted when I showed them the peelable panels at the crotch, and amused themselves for a few minutes fingering the open cunts, till both girls were shivering with sensation. Then they picked up the light smacking-straps lying ready on their tables, and set to work reddening the naked flesh protruding through the rear of the crimson costumes.
I had told them they could hit full strength in safety with these relatively light-weight straps: and they were taking me at my word. Soon both pretty arses were writhing in torment under the ceaseless rain of stinging slaps, and the individual red marks made by the tongue of the strap merged slowly into a uniform coloration of the surface. After fifty strokes, I called a halt. "Gentlemen," I said, "the surface of the flesh is now extremely sensitive from your strapping. The girls are now ready to get full benefit from a serious nettle-birching. Will you please put on your rubber gloves?"
Both scarlet arses were soon shuddering and jerking under the dreadful itching caused by the fresh green nettles' fiery bite. Neither of the men had ever used nettles before: and they were reluctant to believe that they were having any effect. till I invited them both to tap themselves once, lightly, just above the knee. Each of them cried out in discomfort as the little crop of white papules sprang up and turned red. Then "Jesus Christ!," growled Morelli, and started flogging Blondie's swollen globes with renewed vigour: and Romano was not slow to follow suit on Brownie's madly-dancing arse.
Before long the two birches had been reduced to handfuls of leafless stalks: and I invited the lust-crazed pair to exchange them for the little scourges of thin knotted cords. Soon the air was filled with the sharp 'Phwtt! Phwtt! Phwtt!' of the scourges, as each man sent his six little thongs, each carrying six hard knots, flashing down in regular cadence onto the naked flesh of the martyred arses. I had trouble here with Morelli, who insisted on whipping his unfortunate girl full-strength: but when Romano realized that he himself would get Blondie for the second half of the performance, he came to my assistance, and prevailed upon his partner to lay his scourge aside.
By now, both arses were in sorry shape, and if they had been my girls I would have ruled that part of the punishment at an end. But Morelli. and indeed Romano too. had seen the thin canes on the whipping-tables, and was insistent that he be allowed to cane his girl. I agreed, reluctantly: but four strokes were enough to convince the pair of them that for the average person flagellation is only sexy up to a certain point. Both girls' buttocks were so tender and swollen from the strapping and the nettles, and especially the scourging with the thin knotted cords, that each stroke produced a great purplish weal that oozed blood sluggishly, so that it looked like a raw wound rather than the mark of a cane: and neither man seemed disposed to argue when I said firmly. "Well done, gentlemen! That's a beautiful pair of well-whipped bottoms, and I know you'll want to bugger them without delay.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Both girls slumped wearily when I slackened the wires and unhooked them from the helmets. They had been 'standing tall' for over half an hour, with their necks stretched painfully upwards: and since they were already on six-inch stilt heels, there was no relief to be obtained by rising onto their toes. In this position their naked arses had been most severely punished, till each girl was weak from the pain: nor could they give vent to their feelings in a full-throated scream of agony that might serve to release a little of their emotional tension. the Seabrook helmet saw to that; all they could do was mumble "Mmm. mm!" through clenched teeth. and even that was filtered down to a gentle humming through the nose-hole. So it was hardly surprising that even the minor relief of being allowed to 'stand easy' was more than welcome to the two victims.
Their respite was of short duration. When I had unhooked the wires, I explained the next step to the two hoods: and by the time I had fetched the chain-and-swivel fasteners from the cupboard, they had forced Brownie down onto her knees and bent her torso forward and down till her head touched the floor: and there I immobilized her by clipping her helmet-eyelet to a ring-bolt in the floor, so that she must kneel helplessly, pinned at head and ankles, arms completely useless, with her naked crimson arse sticking up all wide-spread, and the four horrid stripes across her buttocks oozing where her bent posture had caused little breaks in the swollen skin. A minute later, Blondie had joined her on the floor, and I was preparing the two arseholes with generous dabs of Vaseline. Then I handed the pot to Morelli, saying. "I don't know if you've ever tried getting right into her, and frigging her on the button till she creams and pulls you off?" Both men gave a bellow of delighted laughter: and Romano clapped me on the back, with a shout of. "That's a helluva good idea, Sister! Let's have that fucking vaseline, Joe!!"
As I had anticipated, Romano's girl made a real muscular production out of her orgasm. I could just see her. (had she been free, and being fucked normally on her back). with her head thrown back and eyes closed, going "Wheee!" almost soundlessly through gritted teeth, her legs clamped tightly round the man's waist and her fingers raking mindlessly across his back as she spent. All such freedom of action was denied to her in her present position. she was merely a dancing arse-hole on the end of Romano's prick: but even so the contractions of her rectum had the little hood gasping and shuddering in ecstasy as his load of hot spunk was sucked out of his willing prick, to thud home high into the bowels of the huddled twitching body. In contrast, Morelli was having to work a little to make Blondie come: his big spatulate finger was frigging her methodically on the clitoris, and every now and then he would ream her arsehole back and forth, bringing a jerk of pain from her as his crisp sandy bush rammed up against the four raw stripes across her crimson buttocks. But she creamed at last, and with a bellow of triumph he plunged himself to the hilt in her pulsing arsehole, shooting his load into her helpless body with fervent cries of "Jesus fucking Christ!," and "Holy shit!!," and the like.
I let the two men relax with cigarettes at the other end of the room, while I freed the girls' helmets from the floor and helped the two victims to their feet: then I clipped the ceiling-wires back onto their helmets. though I refrained from winding them up taut until the men were ready for their second session; I thought the poor girls had at least earned that much grace.
The cigarettes were stubbed out all too soon: and as Morelli and Romano walked over to the lovely helpless bodies, I wound in the wires till both girls were 'standing tall' again, and voicing their misery and apprehension with plaintive little humming noises through the nose-holes of the helmets. As agreed, the men changed round, Romano taking Blondie, and the smaller girl falling to Morelli. They sensed that this time their target must inevitably be the naked breasts jutting helplessly through the front cut-outs of the crimson costumes: and they were already teasing the coral nipples between their ringers when I returned from winding in the wires. I managed to persuade Morelli that a tit was more sensitive than an arse, and that if he hit too hard with the smacking-strap he would merely send the thing numb, so that the nettles and the little scourge would lose their full effect. He got the point, and happily found the perfect touch, so that Brownie was wriggling her shoulders in agony all through the thirty strokes, and her firm upstanding breasts seemed to grow one size larger as they slowly reddened all over under his remorseless strokes. Romano, for his part, was dealing very scientifically with Blondie. He fingered her nipples till they stood out hard and proud on the big globes of her breasts: then he delivered five strokes, very fast and hard, around the aureole, then five more round the main curvature of the breast: then he teased her nipples again, till they stood up ready for punishment again. He repeated the whole process once more, thus completing the thirty strokes I had called for in the strapping process.
The nettles followed: this time there were no uninformed doubts as to the efficacy of the slim green birches, and both pairs of naked breasts were very soon red-hot and swollen as the little red papules multiplied all over the tender surface of the tortured flesh. The unhappy victims had but little freedom of movement in their stretched position: but they both showed surprising agility in their shoulder-motions when the little scourges were brought into play, and almost from the first stroke of the painful knotted cords the martyred tits were dancing freely from side to side and up and down, as the tortured girls sought hopelessly to escape the cruel biting blows.
Suddenly Romano exclaimed in delight. The pain of the knots biting into her soft nipples had made Blondie pee herself: a little spurt of urine splashed onto the floor, and a thin trickle ran down one thigh, leaving a dark patch of wetness on the crimson cloth. Morelli guffawed with laughter: then, determined not to be outdone, he slashed upwards with his scourge between Brownie's parted legs, so that the sudden agony in her unprotected cunt loosened her bladder, and she too released a thin stream of urine to splash down onto the floor beneath.
I managed to persuade the men that two strokes of the cane would be sufficient. Romano laid one of his strokes most accurately across Blondie's two swollen nipples: under the sudden dreadful pain she gave a violent jerk that must have nearly strangled her: blood seeped from the two coral buds now swollen to the size of a medium strawberry. Much to Morelli's chagrin, his aim was not so accurate: but the two big weals he left across each martyred globe would serve to remind peer Brownie for many a day to come that she had had a serious session in the whipping-room. -
Then they fucked the two bodies standing open-legged in their bonds as though inviting their tormentors to rape them. I loosened the ceiling-wires a little, so that there should be some 'spring' in the two bodies, to make the fuck more interesting: and the two hoods certainly seemed to enjoy themselves, both of them humping lustfully upwards into the wide-spread cunts till they came, with a chorus of coarse grunts and groans. Then they withdrew, leaving their spunk dribbling out of the tired trembling quims in glutinous strings, and dressed themselves leisurely. Somewhat to my surprise, they thanked me as graciously as they knew how, and gave me two $50 bills 'for the broads', as they put it: then I accompanied them upstairs and saw them out, mentally congratulating myself on another little chore successfully completed for Don Marco.
When I went back downstairs, the Negroes were fetching the two drums from the store-room. Inside the whipping-room, Alberto had released Blondie and forced her to the floor: and as I arrived, he was just withdrawing from her after a quick rape. His prick was still semi-stiff, and it did not take him long to prepare himself for Brownie, who I must say looked very exciting lying on her back with her long slim legs held back over her head, so that her well-whipped arse was fully exposed below the open cunt. Alberto soon had his orgasm in her: then Sam and his mate put her into her drum: and finally the two girls were wheeled off to the elevator, and so upstairs and finally out of the house. and out of my life, I would have said. How wrong I was, Max!!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Now comes the true background to the story: and I swear to you that I had absolutely no idea of it, until it was too late. (Nor, I think, did Alberto: but that we shall never know: for Morelli and Romano had him killed the next day. ).
In actual fact, Don Marco was no friend at all of the two hoods. He had owed them a grudge for many a long year: and he had neither forgiven nor forgotten them. He had plotted long, and plotted well, when he had heard that they would be coming to Boston: he was determined to revenge himself in a manner worthy of a 'baron' of The Organization: and he knew he could do so with impunity, for it had long been accepted within The Organization's upper echelons that Don Marco was the injured party. (All this I pieced together during the months that I was hiding out in Mexico).
He started off by talking to them on the phone before the conference. It was childish to bear enmity for all these years, he said; none of them was getting any younger; he would be their official host in Boston, and this seemed an excellent opportunity to bury the hatchet. nothing would please him more; would they join hands with him and renew their friendship, letting bygones be bygones. ?
They believed him, Max! God help them for a pair of bloody fools, they believed him. And now I'll tell you who Blondie and Brownie really were. Francesca Morelli. that was Blondie: Morelli's twenty-one-year-old daughter, the apple of his eye. And Brownie was Rita Romano, who was only nineteen. Don Marco had arranged for each man to whip his own daughter's arse till it bled, and then to bugger her: and then. all unsuspecting. to hand her over to his companion to have her tits whipped and be fucked, right under his very eyes. Oh yes, it was a revenge worthy of a 'baron' all right!
Don Marco had really organized the thing quite beautifully. He must have spent money like water on bribes and buying information: for in the space of about four days he had found out that the two hoods would be bringing their families with them to Boston; had discovered which dressmakers the two girls used in Chicago. (which was the home town of his two enemies). and arranged for them to be broken into so that the girls' measurements could be taken from their dummies; had kept two seamstresses working overtime on the bizarre crimson costumes that would act as camouflage in the whipping-room; and had made arrangements for the two girls to be kidnapped early on the Monday afternoon and taken to one of his hideouts to be 'dressed'. He had men the two hoods when they arrived on the Sunday afternoon, and greeted them with honeyed words: as an earnest of his good intentions, he had offered them a 'special entertainment' for the Monday evening, telling them that the Madam of one of his houses. (that was myself). would provide them with a couple of nice arses they could whip. They had never practised flagellation, and accepted with alacrity, with the result that the two girls had been most exquisitely tortured, as I have described. (with a free fuck from Alberto thrown in for good measure).
Don Marco's plan called for the two drums containing the unconscious girls to be deposited on the doorstep of the guest-houses in which The Organization had lodged the two families for the conference: a ring at the bell would bring the newly-returned father to the door; he would open the strange package, see the now-familiar crimson costume displaying the well-whipped arse and breasts, and remove the helmet. to disclose his own daughter. He would know at once that Don Marco had double-crossed him, and that his own credulity had brought the most fearful torments onto his innocent daughter. and very largely at his own hands, too.
Only two things went wrong. both of which were to ruin me, and turn me for many months to come into a fugitive frightened for her very life. First of all, Tony Romano didn't go back to his house straight away: he was so excited by the events of the evening that he decided to spend an hour in a hotel bar: so when Don Marco's men rang the bell, it was Mrs. Romano who discovered her daughter's whip-marked body in the drum. Knowing nothing of the 'special entertainment' that her husband had enjoyed that evening, she believed that her daughter had fallen prey to some sex-maniac. and called the police. And as you know, Max, the outcome of that was the issue of a warrant against me for kidnapping and procuring and conspiring to commit assault and God knows what. all entirely unfair, because really I had nothing to do with the thing. But they knew I was connected with it somehow: for when Morelli and Romano sent their bodyguards in and had Alberto knocked off, that led the police to my place. and of course I wasn't there by then, which made the police suspicious; they started grilling Sam and the others. and it didn't take them long to find out that the girls had been tortured on our premises; and with nobody available to tell the real story, I suppose a warrant was inevitable.
But the whole thing would have stopped right at the start. even after Mrs. Romano had called the police. if only Don Marco had been there. He was far too powerful for middle-level operators like Romano and Morelli to tangle with; and they would never have dared to come to my place in search of revenge. But Don Marco was dead: he had a heart attack in the car that was bringing him over to my place. (I thought it was a bit odd that he wasn't in 'Algolagnia Alley' for a very special entertainment such as that). and died without recovering consciousness. Once they learnt of his death, the two hoods were emboldened to seek revenge: and who was a more likely candidate than the person who had greased their daughters' arse-holes for them, and showed them how to torture a naked tit with nettles? So they sent their gunmen in: and they only missed me by five minutes.
At this stage, I knew absolutely nothing of what was going on. dammit, Max, I still thought they'd been whipping a couple of Don Marco's hookers! The first I heard was at noon next day, when I had a frantic phone call from the accountant. He and I had always got on well together: he was a cripple, and physically unattractive; and I had taken pity on him, and arranged for him to get laid once a week; and now he was repaying me. He told me that Don Marco was dead. which was a shock, just by itself. (for you never know who's going to step into the dead man's shoes, in an outfit like The Organization): then he told me who the girls had been, and I went cold all over. He knew they were about to move in against us. and I believed him! So I didn't need much urging when he told me to get the hell out of there straight away, and meet him at the airport. He'd taken tickets down to Mexico City, he said, and he'd got the house takings for the past week, which would keep us going for a while, till we could see how things were turning out. Believe me, I was out of there in five minutes flat, with just my jewelry, some personal papers, and a few hundred dollars that I had by me in cash: and I've never been back to Boston since.
I don't go around scared any longer now: I don't believe anyone is actively looking for me any more. Morelli's been dead for several years; Romano's worked his way up since those days, and is a sort of 'under-baron' out on the West Coast. but I think he accepts that I wasn't actually responsible for what happened that night:. though I wouldn't care to cross his path. I had an official 'all clear' from The Organization about six months after Don Marco's death, but they told me they could do nothing for me as long as I was still on the police 'wanted list'. and there's the rub: I've tried for years to get the police to kill their warrant, but they won't do it. and kidnapping's a Federal offense, so the Boston warrant effectively bars me from making good in any State in America. Well, I've got used to it now, Max; and you're all very kind to me here in The Specialist Club: but you do see what I mean when I say that Don Marco ruined me, don't you? Fancy doing a thing like that to me, and then dying?. left me properly in the shit, didn't he? Ah well!. push that bottle over, will you?
