Archive Note: Misspelled words in the following text are as found in the original pocketbook. Only scanning errors have been corrected.
INTRODUCTION
Sadomasochism is a sexual phenomenon that has been with the human race as long as any other form of sexual expresion. But as it is a form of sexuality practiced by a minority, it has not been explored by the scientific mind but left to conjure and myth.
In researching my files recently I discovered several cases that are sadomasochistic. In studying them I decided to collect them in this volume for the interest and education of the general public. Only names have been changed to protect the patients.
The one statistic that come from these cases, as you will discover when you read them, is that no one goes into sadomasochism unwillingly-even the case of Meg P. who was whipped unmercifully by an Uncle to induce her to have intercourse with him. Meg P objected to the attempted rape/incest, not the whipping!
In the case of Mick G., who is a top rock superstar, it was a case of "falling into it"-being lured to an exclusive country estate only to discover that the beautiful woman had something else in mind and finally joining in. Mick admits that while he enjoyed the thought that he was being "forced" into the acts of degradation and humiliation instigated by the beautiful Monique, he was also willing ... and was physically capable of extracting himself from the situation if he'd "really been turned off."
What follows are several transcriptions of the interviews with several patients all involved in S & M scenes. I will let my patients speak for themselves, only reserving the right to comment where necessary.
CASE HISTORY ONE
Subject: Frederick M. Age: Thirty-one
INTERVIEW ONE
Frederick M. is a highly successful Madison Avenue advertising executive. At thirty-one, he is in the bloom of his manhood-tall, dark, suntanned, muscular and virile-looking. He was sent to me from the emergency ward of a local city hospital where he'd been admitted with numerous contusions and bleeding cuts.
Mr. M. was hostile to my initial questioning but relaxed eventually when he realized that nothing he said would be used against him in a court of law.
He openly admitted to being deeply involved in a sadomasochistic relationship with two women.
The following is a transcription of our first interview together, with only the names changed to protect the innocent.
"That's an interesting question, Doctor," Mr. M. said. "I can't truly recall when I first became involved in S&M sex. I think I was always involved in it."
"How is that possible?" I asked.
"From the very first time I fucked a woman, there has been pain and pleasure involved. But that's hardly what concerns you at the moment, is it?"
"Correct, Mr. M.," I replied. "I want to know how you wound up in a hospital emergency ward-especially since you stated earlier that true S&M practitioners never permanently hurt another."
"Well," he said, lighting a cigarette, "it was in the nature of an accident, and completely my own fault in a sense."
"Tell me about it, then."
To make the story simple, Doc, I'll only go back a couple of months. I was in need of a new secretary and I advertised in the newspaper for one. Now, most men in my position would just call down to personnel and ask for one, but I like to pick my own.
So, a few days after the ad ran and I'd interviewed numerous unqualified candidates, I finally found one. Gloria G. came in and I was sure immediately that she was the girl I wanted for my secretary. She was young and impressionable and I knew I could have her trained in a week to do my bidding. She'd make a perfect slave.
She started working for me the next day, Thursday, and I ran her ass ragged. She loved it! She really thought big business was going on.
Then, on Friday when everyone else had run off for a long weekend, I told her we'd be working late. There was a trace of disappointment in her face, as I figured, she probably was going to have to break a date, but she didn't say anything.
Finally, I got her in my office and I grabbed her tits. She resisted at first, but I slapped her face a few times and she let me have my way. I pulled out her tits. They were nice and big and firm and I sucked on her nipples.
Just when she got to moaning real good, I bit down hard. She screamed and I kept right on biting. It didn't take long before the sucking and biting to have her panting. She was some bitch!
We got naked and she spread out on top of my desk. I took my huge dork and fucked her hard. She loved it. She clawed my back and I twisted her nipples. I plunged my tongue into her mouth. Before I knew it, I wanted to come and felt that I couldn't hold back.
I realized that the urgency of my spill into her hole was in part due to the raking she had given my bare buttocks with her fingernails. There were deep red gouges like lunar rills all over my large ass mounds, especially between my legs, behind my balls, and around my asshole.
She popped her finger out of its wiggling entry into my anus and laughed.
"Wow, you are something, bitch!" I complimented.
"You are something else!" she replied in kind. "I think we ought to do this on TV."
"Why not?" I said. "Of course, the kids couldn't watch."
Our fantasies eventually led us to rake each other's rump with letter openers from the desk. The pain made our sex parts eager again for pleasurable contact.
"Shove it up again, you big stud," she urged, biting my ear.
I put it in fast and hard, lunging my pelvis at her widespread target on the desktop.
We had trouble that very next morning, after a night of mad biting and balling. A client, the famous Mrs. Edna M., whom I had successfully signed to a major advertising contracted the week before, was the cause.
She was refusing to pay me. Since I'm not on TV yet, it proves I haven't gotten my money's worth. Until the ads come through, I can't pay you your fee. Besides, I don't see why I should pay," said the irritable, redheaded bitch. She was short and had a pug nose, but she was very well-built.
Gloria watched me, sitting behind my big desk, calling the woman's bluff. "Since you are, in fact, on TV, you have plenty of money to pay me!"
"What? You say I am on TV?"
"Yes. I know perfectly well that your ads started this morning.
"What makes you think so?"
Mrs. Edna M. turned to Gloria and said, "What is that slimy bitch doing here?"
"She's my secretary."
"I'm sure she is!" she retorted, and smirked, as if Gloria was a tramp.
Gloria looked like she yearned to rip the knockers off the scummy, rich broad.
I said to Mrs. M., "Either pay up or pay in some other way!"
"You can't make me."
"I can!" I replied. "Get her, Gloria!"
"Gladly," the black-haired fury ran and grabbed the rich bitch, while I gagged her and tied her hands behind her back. Then we both pushed her to the floor and tore her expensive clothes off, searching, ostensibly, for money.
"It's not on her," said Gloria, shoving her hand up the woman's dry come box.
"You're right," I smirked. I bit the woman's left nipple as she tried to scream in the gag.
"I'll bet," I said, "that she won't go to the police no matter what you and I do. I have the private information that can send her up the river for ten years."
Gloria bent over and bit the other titty of the middle-aged broad, leaving a deep mark.
"I want to torture her," Gloria said. "Can I?"
"I don't know-"
"I fucked for you!"
"I see. Okay, she's yours!" I told Gloria.
She smiled and stripped. Then she walked all over Mrs. M.'s breasts, stamping her feet like a flamenco dancer as the woman tearfully rolled around like a barrel.
"That's nice, Gloria, it is pretty to see you naked and stomping the broad's tits. Scratch her tits with your toenails while you walk on her!" I directed.
"Maybe you can do it better than I?" Gloria sneered, thinking that I had criticized her handling of Mrs. M.
"Give her to me, then," I ordered.
My secretary got off Mrs. M. and I picked the woman up and slammed her back against the wall. She could not pull her hands from the tight ropes around her wrists. She was exposed to me. I unbelted and dropped my pants to the floor and as the gagged woman stared wide-eyed, I shoved my dick into her. I kept her open as she stood with both of my hands.
Jamming it up Mrs. M.'s pussy made me feel good, and I slapped the pretty but short woman repeatedly and violently on her gagged face while I plowed her twat. Soon she was slamming her own hips into mine. It seemed that she, like my secretary, responded well to pain.
"So you like to be slapped and screwed, don't you?" I said. "My face was hot as I pummeled the rich woman's marked and naked breasts.
She didn't answer, but the urgency of her pelvis in meetings my stick told me that she loved pain with her sex. A lot of women really wanted to get spanked or ass-whipped or face-slapped. They seldom admit it, though, because they think it is unnatural.
Once they have no choice, though, they just go into complete sexual abandon, like the tied-up Mrs. M.
I grunted and heaved a bucket of jolly juice up her dripping we twat and she contracted on me like a really experienced woman, sending shivers down my spine.
"I bet you want to be beaten and fucked all the time, don't you?" I asked as I withdrew my wet pecker and pulled my pants up.
Mrs. M. enthusiastically shook her head, indicating yes!
I untied the sperm-dripping woman and she embraced me.
"I feel bad, and felt bad about myself. You beat me up and gave me good sex, so I feel better now!" she exclaimed.
"Have a seat?" I smiled at her. "Cigar?"
Mrs. M. smoked the thin cigar as she sat naked and told Gloria and me what she had felt bad about.
"I go to these group therapy sessions in the East Side. It's very posh, of course, but it is also a very real experience, if you know what I mean."
Gloria and I both nodded in agreement.
"There was a guy there," Mrs. M. continued, "who liked me. I needed sex really bad but I didn't respond to him the week before when he had asked me out. I am divorced, as you know. Well, this week during telling how horny I was and how I had been hanging around bars trying to get picked up and fucked, without success, I was really sexed-up. While I was saying that, William-that's his name-was fuming and squirming in his seat. I didn't know why.
"I said that nobody had asked me out since I had been divorced and that I didn't know anyone at all. I said I had tried to pick up guys in movies and at concerts when I went with my girl friends, but I had been unsuccessful."
She puffed the cigar, then continued, "Suddenly, William burst out with, 'Am I so horrible? You went to half the bars trying to pick up guys, and yet I asked you to go out and you gave me the damned brush-off. Am I so horrible?'
"I didn't know what to say. It was true that he had said something about wanting to go out with me, but it was so vague. Besides, I wanted to meet somebody new, somebody to just have a little fun with and not get involved. I said that I hadn't realized that it would matter to him."
'Matter, of course not,' William said. 'What does it matter to my feelings that you refused me and then you ran around town trying to get some barfly to step out with you. That makes me feel wonderful,' he said sarcastically.
I interrupted naked Mrs. M.'s soliloquy to ask what the whole thing had to do with her liking me slapping her around.
"Simply this," smiled Mrs. M, "I felt bad that I had hurt another individual, and when you beat the crap out of me, I felt I was being justly punished, so I felt greatly relieved. I think I will come to your office to see you and Gloria, rather than go to the expensive group therapy sessions. You two immediately take care of all my guilt. You punish me, and then I feel good, and I receive your throbbing member with gusto."
"Well, perhaps I had better charge you fifty dollars for today's group session, how about it?"
Mrs. M. said that was fine as long as I considered it a first payment on the money she owed me for getting her advertisements in the television media.
So the whole problem of payment was involved. I was to get my penis jollies off Mrs. M. and each time she came, she was to give me fifty dollars towards the twenty-thousand dollars she owed me for advertising.
I did a rough calculation and discovered that I would be getting a lot of sex with the pretty red-headed divorcee. Gloria asked if she could have the redhead back to "play with" in the other room and I watched as Gloria took Mrs.
M. and winked as she shut the door. Soon I heard skin being whipped and groans of pleasure from the other room.
I was caught up on a little paperwork at my desk while the two females went at it in the other room. The noises were distracting, but my penis was also stimulated as I heard the muted voice of Mrs. M. saying, "Yes, give it to me! Shove the dildo up and wiggle it around!"
We were out of time for our first session and I stopped Mr. M. at this point. We made an appointment for the following week.
INTERVIEW TWO
Mr. M. was prompt. He took his chair, lit a cigarette and continued without prompting.
There is an unwritten code of the sado-masochists, Doc, which is: Hurt and please. To hurt was not enough, to please was not enough. One had to do both.
The other slogan of the S&M underground was: Never hurt anyone permanently. That meant never to do so much damage to a person's body that it would not ,heal. That makes sense, I mused. There were few enough good bodies in the world, why mess one up? Right? Well, continuing with my story of my secretary and my client.
Gloria came in the door arm in arm with Mrs. M. who had new red finger marks on her big breasts and I noticed that Gloria had whip marks all over her thighs, those snow-white soft thighs of hers.
"Have fun?" I asked.
The naked woman nodded and smiled. I promised myself that the next time Gloria and Mrs. M. had sex, I would watch or participate.
That's how I got involved in receiving money for administering S&M sex to certain clients of mine. One in particular who liked it so much was Maggie S.
I couldn't figure out the blonde bitch. She could take it as well as dish it out. Finally, she loved it so much, she moved in with me and after a while, so did my secretary.
Trouble is, when two women get together, they start plotting all kinds of nonsense.
When we went to my office one day to make a hasty collection of papers, they tied me, at my request, on the oak desk.
I was groaning the minute the secretary stripped me and then undressed herself. She stood on a chair while blondie pulled up her skirt and masturbated. Gloria began kicking me in my ass, and my appealing prick got nice and stiff while I pleaded for the harpie to cease her foot probes and to allow me to fuck her up the cunt and anus.
"In a minute," said the naked fury, "but first I want your ass to be good and sore."
"Hurry! Remember," I said, "I have an appointment this afternoon with one of the oil companies. You have to come and please the Chairman of the Board in his little room. That's the only way we can possibly get the account."
"Shut up! I am going to hurt your balls again before we fuck!"
"No!"
I couldn't stop her, and Gloria did what she had never done before. She bit my ball sac. Hard.
"Yeeeeooowwww!" I screamed. "Stop! Stop! I will do anything, but don't-"
She bit me again, which was enough of a sight to make Gloria come in her panties from her own thumb and index finger rub of her clitoris.
"Me, next. I want to bite him, too," exclaimed the blonde.
"Wait, I want to fuck," said the naked secretary, mounting the pinned down man and shoving his dick between her luscious red and inflamed wet pussy lips.
"Shove, Frederick, make me come joyously. Spread all your juicy ball come into my quim. I know it will hurt you a lot, but it will please me, and that's the only thing that matters. I want to gush my quick womb juice all over your erection. I want to have your pregnancy fluid splash against my swelling womb!"
I erupted into her as she slammed her pussy up and down and up and down, and I screamed in pain as my bitten and bruised balls banged up the sperm in a sudden torrent.
"Ow!"
Gloria said, "I guess it hurts to come when your balls have just been bitten."
Maggie came over and tongue-kissed me and then said, "I like the idea of biting his balls. Can I do it myself?"
She had addressed her question to the secretary who was dismounting me, but I answered for Gloria. "No!"
Gloria frowned, "Don't pay any attention to that bastard. Bite his balls if you think it will please your smelly pussy hole."
Gloria bent while I vainly tried to free myself and she bit into my sac and I screamed and screamed and screamed up the scale.
"Wow," said Gloria, "he certainly has a set of lungs, doesn't he?"
"Huh?" asked Maggie.
"Well," explained Gloria, "naturally this office is soundproof, except for the window, and we are on the sixteenth floor. I don't think anybody could hear even Frederick's screams coming from here."
"It's a good thing," said the slim, beautiful rich blonde, mounting her naked body on my dick and starting to heave herself up and down. "I think the police would have been here after that last scream if it wasn't for the soundproofing."
"Most definitely," said the naked secretary, caressing her own ample boobs.
She asked if she could stand on the chair and tongue-kiss with Maggie while she pumped herself up and down on the man.
"Sure," said the blonde, "I love to have you tongue-kiss me, especially while I have a big dick shoved up my quim. Come on!"
They kissed and kissed, the saliva running down their chins and dripping on their red-tipped breasts while the blonde's pussy engulfed my massive staff.
I was almost out of sperm, but I dripped a few drops into the plunging, sopping wet cunt that sought pleasure on my rod, and the woman came, too.
"The fuck hardly had any come. I could barely feel his juice dribble into my quim. I like it better when he is like a burst dam, like a firehose in action, you know what I mean, Gloria?"
They allowed me loose and said they would go to the appointment with me, to help with the oil company, provided that I give them fifty percent of the fee I charge the company. But they both wanted my dick up their anus first, and it took a half hour to satisfy them that way.
During the time I fucked Gloria up the ass, my secretary's belt whipped my buttocks, and when I fucked Gloria's ass crack, Maggie whacked my ass with the whip.
We went home, Gloria stopping off with Maggie to deposit their bribery fund in a local bank, the same bank that the blonde had secured her chastity belt key in.
Once in my house, which the females considered home, Gloria stripped down to her garter belt and stockings and told me to pull my pants down and lay across her lap.
"Why?"
"Shut the fuck up," said Gloria and she pushed me down on her lap and Maggie pulled my pants down and handed the black-haired bitch a brush with stiff bristles. The secretary began whacking the daylights out of me.
"Why?" I asked, ouching.
"Because," replied the not-to-be-put-off secretary.
Maggie got a brush and joined Gloria in pummeling my smelly ass and then they both worked to tie me up with ropes and throw me on the bed, still dressed but with my shoes removed and my dick free of my pants.
"What are you two going to do?"
"None of your business. We decided that females are superior to men," said Alice, "so we are just going to be superior, aren't we, Gloria?"
"Damned straight, we are."
"So-" said Maggie, picking up the whip, "I think we might shove this whip handles wide width up your asshole or into your jabbering mouth."
"No!"
"That's all you ever say, no, and I'm getting fucking tired of it. Aren't you getting fucked up by it, Maggie?"
"Yes."
Gloria told Maggie to take off all but her stockings and garter belt and to find my belt and join her in whacking my body.
Maggie, pussy dripping and eager for torturing me, stripped off her clothes and stood next to Gloria winding the belt around her hands and sneering like an angry Samurai.
"Let's teach this worm a real lesson this time!" directed Maggie. "Let's tie his balls and dick with rope and hang him by the organ from the bathroom shower curtain rod."
I, of course, protested but soon the females, clad only in their black stockings and garter belts, had my balls and dick tied tightly with rope and were leading me to the John. I was nearly stumbling on my pants, which had fallen to my ankles.
"No, please," I said, as I watched them throw the ball-connected rope over the shower curtain rod, and as they both attempted to lift me up by my balls. It didn't work, but I howled and screamed as they attempted the age-old torture.
"Let's do something else," said Maggie. "Let me see."
"Perhaps we can shove his dick through the television screen. I get sick and tired of him watching TV all the time. It would be a fitting punishment." Maggie's suggestion was vetoed by Gloria because Gloria liked TV, too.
Gloria suggested that they peel my skin off with a potato peeler, but Maggie thought that was too gruesome to be sexy. They had reached an impasse.
As they stood there holding me by my sex rope, the near-naked heavy breathing sexpots tried to think of something sexy and painful that they had not yet done to me.
It seemed that they had lost their imaginations, for as I trembled for half an hour, they could think of nothing.
Finally they threw me back on the bed, and they decided they were tired and should sleep. "Perhaps when we awaken, we shall have a good idea," said Gloria. "Let's sleep on it."
"Okay," agreed the blonde, lying down on the bed alongside me, on the other side of me from Gloria.
They fell asleep, but I didn't. I was frightened about what would happen when the female supremacists awoke.
They slept for nine hours; the day had been exhausting.
When they awoke, it was dawn, and sunlight was streaming cheerfully through the window, causing the women's sensuous bodies to look even more alluring to me. I wished they would just let me fuck their pussies for a change without all of the torture and degredation. I got a hard-on thinking of the time I had pissed into a cunt, sending gushes of hot urine into the struggling naked woman I had tied up.
"The worm is awake, too," sneered Maggie. "Let's kick the shit out of him for starters."
Gloria joined her in knocking me off the bed and stomping on my chest and sex parts.
Then the secretary had the idea she had been unable to think of the day before. She ran and got the huge dildo. Maggie positioned me on my bedroom desk, stripped me and held my ass cheeks open as the raven-haired nineteen-year-old shoved the instrument all the way into my bowels.
I groaned in pain and the females were delighted.
"See how he moans every time you shove it in," snickered Gloria, heaving her dildo in to penetrate me more fully.
"Yes," smiled blonde, sensuous Maggie, "and watch the shit ooze from his anus when you slide it back out. Interesting, isn't it?"
"Sure is. You know, I get such a charge out of shoving in a dildo that I should be a lesbian."
"You can dildo me next, beautiful," said Maggie, lowering her eyes at her admission that she wanted to be dildoed by the raven-haired secretary.
"Okay," smiled the secretary, "I will."
Maggie watched, more and more anxious to be penetrated herself in the same way that Gloria was penetrating me. Gloria's pussy was flaming for action by the time that the secretary's lust had tapered enough for her to remove the dildo from my ass.
"You know," said the dildo-holding female, "I can't stand men. Here he is with a desk in both his bedroom and office. Men just can't seem to separate pleasure and business. I bet before we came to live with him, he would work nights on cases instead of balling or being beaten. What fucking drags men are, what sticks in the mud!"
Maggie had to agree. A desk did not belong in a bedroom. A bedroom was for sex and games!
"Now come!" insisted the blonde.
Gloria smiled, "Really?"
"Yes, please shove the shit-covered dildo up my twat or my ass. I will close my eyes and lay on the bed on my side. I won't know which hole you have chosen until it is into me.
"Okay, if you want a surprise entry, you will get one," said Gloria. "Lie down on the bed."
Maggie obeyed and closed her eyes as she lay naked on her left side.
There was a stillness in the sunny room. Maggie could sense that Gloria was near, but nothing happened for the longest time.
Suddenly, a big object slammed into her anus and she groaned in pleasure. She was sure that after Gloria had used the dildo on my ass, she would have preferred to enter her vagina. It was a real surprise.
When Maggie opened her eyes, she had even a bigger surprise, for the dildo up her ass was not the same one. Instead, the secretary had strapped on a bigger dildo and shoved it into Maggie's rectum with the force of her strong hip.
"Hi!" said Gloria. "Surprise!"
"It is a big surprise, Gloria, thanks," said the penetrated woman.
Maggie bucked and wiggled her sideways ass against the shoved-in dildo.
"That's it," she urged to Gloria. "Shove it all the way up into my gut, and then move it sideways while I wiggled my ass, twist it in and out, in and out, and make me feel like I am in ecstasy."
Maggie began diddling her cunt in her fingers while Gloria worked out in her rear.
"Soon," said Gloria, between moan, "there will be no men except the men castrated and used as factory workers. Then women will be fucked by other women with dildoes. I think that is a good idea, and women could stop taking birth control pills, too, as there would be no need for them."
"Yes," gasped the woman in her rear, "we might keep a few men with real sex organs around, keep them constantly horny and feed them drugs. We would use them to write pornography for us women, which would excite us to fuck one another with giant strap-on dildoes twice the size of the one I am fucking you with."
"The pornography would have to encourage lesbianism, all sorts of it, like incest lesbianism, bestial lesbianiam, pedophiliac lesbianism, S&M-"
"Yes, Gloria," huffed Maggie, nearly coming. "I think all pornography, and all literature for that matter, that referred to men and women copulating would have to be destroyed when women take over the world!"
Maggie, heaving and gasping, trembling and quivering, while Gloria kept shoving in and out, in and out of the blonde's shithole.
THen Maggie strapped on the dildo and did it to Gloria, up the vagina and I watched in horror as one woman absolutely satisfied another. It was true. Women didn't need men at all!
"That was wonderful!"
"Thanks, Gloria. I tried to be as good at fucking you as you were in my asshole."
"You were better than I was, much better."
"You exaggerate. I love you, dear, I always will."
"And I love you, too, dear."
The two women tongue-kissed madly for a whole hour, probing each other's pussy while I looked on bug-eyed and horny as hell.
"I want to screw," I pleaded.
"Fuck you, scumbag!" shouted Gloria.
"Yeah, fuck off," said the tall, thin blonde.
The women went back to tongue-kissing for a while and then they lay down on the floor in sixty-nine position and sucked each other's slit to ultimate ecstasy while I got so excited that I ejaculated into thin air from my frenzied, throbbing, blue-veined dick.
"How disgusting!" said Gloria, upon whom the sperm had landed. "I will get him for messing up my titties with his scum, but first I will finish sucking you off, Maggie."
They both went back to mad sixty-nining, beavering each other's pussy to tingling happiness. The sperm ran slowly down Gloria's left breast, and oozed onto the floor.
I winced as I realized that I was about to be punished by the black-haired beauty for ejaculating on her breasts.
With that, I interrupted Frederick M.'s monologue. "Is this how you wound up in the hospital?"
"You better believe it, Doc. Those two butches really tore into me," he said, grinning. "Are you still seeing them?"
"Of course!'
CONCLUSION
In a case of willing S&M, there isn't too much a psychologist can do. The first requirement is that a patient needs to want to change. Mr. M. does not want change, only an occasional change of partners. As there was no further legal requirements for him to see me, and he did not wish to see me on his' own, the file was closed.
CASE HISTORY TWO
Subject: Mick G. Age: Twenty-six
INTERVIEW ONE
Mick G. is a popular rock star who puts on a fantastic show-not just a concert-a show, complete with a huge orchestra, cast, elaborate props and lights. I was curious when I realized that he had made an appointment as to what the successful young man's problem could be.
When he came into my office I couldn't help being stunned by the clothing he wore-lots of spangles, fringe, and sequins. His handsome, masculine appearance made the whole thing fit together.
I learned that he was seeing me only at the insistence of his manager and he didn't want to be here at all.
"Why?" I obviously asked.
"Because I don't feel that I have any hang-ups. My manager, that bastard, insisted I come see you."
"Why," I repeated.
"Because I'm into an S & M scene and he's scared shit it's going to affect my career. I keep telling him it isn't, the old fart."
As he seemed upset by the entire thing, I simply suggested he tell me how he got into sado-masochism in the first place. This he seemed willing and eager to tell.
Well, Doc, it was simple, really. You know I'm a big star and there's always groupies hanging around. Well, I get fucking tired of those pimply faced kids. Everyone in my show gets tired of them. But one night after a concert at the Garden, there were these two magnificent women wanting to see me and my lead guitar, Warren L.
They were big women-one dark and the other fair. I needed only to glance at Warren to know he was game for whatever they wanted. Of course, Warren and I had no idea what it was going to be.
We chatted with them a little while-oh, their names, right? The dark one was Monique M. and the fair one was Antoinette B. Sound fancy, right? Dig it. They're American as apple pie-just had French grandparents or something. They were cousins, too. Anyway, they invite Warren and me to their country place for a weekend. I checked my schedule and set up a date. When I asked the location, they said never mind. They'd pick us up. That was cool with me.
Comes the day and these two broads pick Warren and me up and take us up to a big country place upstate, you know? Very private. There's this sumptuous dinner and off to bedtime, me with the dark one and of course, Warren with the blonde. That's when we found out that these two chicks were into the S&M bag-and they expected us, me and Warren, to be the M's for them.
Monique and I were soon alone in Monique's bedroom. My big cock was ready to hop right out of my pants. I began to get undressed.
"You're such a good singer," said Monique to me. She knew I couldn't resist a compliment.
"I work hard at it," I said. "I'll bet you'd look good in any sort of outfit," she said.
"What did you have in mind?" I asked. "Look," she said.
She opened a closet in her bedroom and revealed an assortment of disguises and uniforms, part of her vast and kinky collection.
"What are these?" I asked.
"Disguises," she said. "I want you to try one on."
"Not now," I said. My orgasm was popping up and down and I wanted to defile Miss M.'s raven-haired pussy.
"Now," she said simply and sharply.
I argued a bit but gave in.
"Strip," she said.
I was a bit embarrassed, but took the rest of my clothes off. I stood there naked beside her. She was still fully clad. I was like a little first grade boy made to strip before the female first grade teacher. It made me think of when I was in the first grade. I had been a very bad boy, one day, having pulled on the braids of a little girl in front of me all morning.
The teacher, a beautiful young woman, had suddenly caught me pulling the braids once again. She grabbed me and pulled me from the little desk at which I sat. She pulled me to the front of the class where she sat down and drew my little male body over her knee.
Then she pulled down my shorts and administered a brisk spanking with a ruler. It had made my little ass smart and sting so much that I hadn't been able to sit down comfortably for the rest of the day. And it had been extremely humiliating, too. Being spanked in front of all my classmates, especially the little girls.
Just thinking of that brisk spanking made me feel uncomfortable in the presence of Miss M. The pain and humiliation of my smarting ass had become a vivid childhood memory. In fact, it even aroused me sexually. I often wished I might relive that spanking.
"Strange," I thought, "that this should come to mind here and now. Naked next to this woman." My prick erected slightly as I thought again of the spanking.
Monique looked down at my balls and prick.
"You're very tiny," she said. "I've seen much bigger penises than that."
Then she looked away and pulled an outfit from the closet. Her remark had been castrating, though. It made my cock contract. When it was completely limp she looked at it again.
"My goodness, but it's small," she said. "Do you ever have trouble erecting it?"
"Never," I said defensively. "You shouldn't lie about it," she said. "I'm not," I said.
"How much trouble do you have?" she asked.
"I-I-" I answered.
"Never mind," she said. "Try this one," She handed me an outfit that looked like a pair of old potato sacks.
"What is this?" I asked.
"It's peasant garb," she said. "It's the outfit of an old peasant woman."
"I won't put this on," I said.
"Yes, you will," she snapped sharply. She stared me in the eye with a fiery gaze. Perhaps my senses knew the dominatrice's fury that I might unleash by not obeying. So, as my prick contracted and drooped a little more, I began to dress up as an old peasant woman.
"Get that shawl over your head, old woman," Monique commanded.
"I feel very silly," I said.
"You look silly," she said. "You look like a football player in drag. Hardly appealing to a woman."
Monique reached forward and knotted a sash tightly. It bound my waist so tightly that I could hardly breath. Then suddenly a safety pin poked through the scratch burlap.
"Owww," I said, "shit."
"Hold still," she said. "Don't act like an old woman."
"There's something jabbing me," I said. "Owww, fuck."
"Where is it?" she said calmly.
"In-in-it's hitting my left nut," I squirmed, but the pin continued to jab. "Shit," I said.
I tried to lean over to reach it, but the bound sash prevented me from bending.
"Get me out of this," I begged.
She tried the knot she had just tied. She pulled it tight then spoke. "It won't give," she said as the pin kept jabbing his nut. "I'm not strong enough."
"Go get help," I begged. "Get Warren."
"Warren and Antoinette might be fucking," she said. "I wouldn't want to disturb them."
"Shit," I said. "Help me."
"Let's take a look," she said.
She knelt before me and examined my crotch where the peasant's outfit was pulled tight. "Maybe it will poke your nuts completely off," she said. "Then you would be a woman."
"That's not funny," I said. "I'm in pain."
"Stop squirming," she said. "You're acting like a fairy."
"It hurts so terribly. It feels like my nut is bleeding."
"I wouldn't know how that feels," she said. She gave a sharp yank on the outfit.
"Shee-it," I said in anguish. "This fucking thing's full of pins in the crotch."
"Is it?" she asked, feigning innocence as best as dominatrice can. She felt around the crotch.
"I'll try to find them. Are they here?" She moved her hand around roughly as I stood squirming before her.
"Ow, shit," I squealed. "Fucking shit. You're hitting my nuts and pushing the pins into my balls."
Then I really squealed. The head of one pin poked the soft underside of my prick. "Shee-it, asshole, fuck, my prick, my prick, my poor prick."
I bolted away from her and began to hop around the room in pain. She laughed at my pain. I was comical hopping around in the silly garb of a peasant woman.
"Don't laugh," I cried.
I was hopping now on one foot. Each time I tried to adjust my leg position to ease the pain it only hurt more. I hopped on one foot then the other.
Monique M. laughed heartily and huskily. "Your suffering is very amusing," she said calmly.
"Shee-it," I said. "Not to me. Help me. Damn," I cried. "My poor punctured cock."
"It's a good thing you can't make it erect," Monique said.
"I can make it erect," I said.
"Try it," she said.
"I can't now," I groaned.
I sat down slowly on the bed. My pin tortured cock was killing me. I tried to ease myself onto the bed to delicately remove the peasant outfit. But she had bound me so tightly that I could only lie straight. Believe me, that was sure all I could do, just lie straight. I was at her mercy. If anyone was to release me from the outfit, it would have to be Monique M. And she was too amused to release me.
"You see," she said as soon as he spoke those words, "You can't get a stiffie up. Just as I said. You prick's too tiny."
"Shit," I said lying on the bed in dire pain as the needles still pointed and jabbed into my prick. "I'm suffering. I'm suffering so much"
"I don't believe you," she said. "I think you're just acting."
"I'm not acting," I said in further anguish.
But my dominatrice showed no pity.
Monique began to disrobe. She was soon down to merely a tight black bra and panties. She slipped the bra over her head. She slid the black panties down her long starkly beautiful legs. I watched in the most exquisite of agonies. My prick was erecting, and as it erected it pressed hard into the jabbing heads of the pins.
"Oooh," I groaned. "Owww, oooh, ehhh."
"Well," said the statuesque woman. "Do you want to fuck me or not?"
I studied her body as my agonized phallus alternated between painful erections into the jabbing pinheads and contractions back to painlessness. As soon as my prick would contract to a safe size, I would see her massive pussy and the long lean legs that that pitch black tuft of hair was centered between. That would make my penis erect again. And again I'd suffer.
"I'd like to," I said.
"Well then," she said. "Let's go. How about a rear entry?"
She bent over, exposing her buttocks toward me. She opened her lovely naked legs just enough so that I could see her crack and tuft of hair between the lower crevice of her ass. My rod erected again into the most painful jabs yet.
"Owww," I said. "I can't fuck now. I can't."
"Just as I suspected," she said. "But-"
"Shut up. You've failed miserably, little man."
Monique dressed in a nightgown and disappeared. Just before she left she tossed a pair of scissors to me.
"Cut the sash if you want, you miserable failure."
I lay there perplexed for a few minutes.
Then I gingerly cut the sash and unbound myself from the rigid and humiliating confinement of the old peasant woman's outfit. I took everything off and lay there naked.
My prick was very sad looking with several little pin pricks in it. I rubbed it gently to try to appease its pain. After a few minutes it felt a little better.
I didn't try to follow Miss M. I was too embarrassed. Not only didn't she believe my pain, I thought, but she thought I was impotent. How castrating! And how castrating the whole episode had been before her.
My prick slowly became erect when I thought of the statuesque woman standing there naked before me. My prick was rigid as I remembered her bending over.
I began to stroke my shaft, putting saliva on my hands to make it rub slickly. Finally I clutched my balls and began to stroke my prick harder. I wanted to orgasm. So I'd have to do it myself.
I rubbed hard for two or three minutes. I felt the ball juice surging up from my balls. I applied pressure. Then, just when I was within a few strokes of orgasming, my hand rubbed across an open wound inflicted on my penis by the pins. A pain shot through me sharply. It made me lose my erection.
"Ooow," I screamed.
I clutched my cock in pain. Even after she had gone, the incident with Monique M. was torturing me. I lay there nursing my balls back to painlessness. Finally I gave up on orgasming. I tried to sleep.
"Damn that Warren," I thought. "I'll bet he's getting good pussy and I can't even jerk myself off."
When I awoke the next morning I couldn't understand the teeth marks on my penis. Nor could I understand where my clothes had gone. I looked beneath the bed and all through the bedroom. I could find nothing.
I went through Miss M.'s disguise closet.
"Shit," I thought as I examined the costumes. "Almost everything is in leather or hard rubber. These outfits must be terribly uncomfortable to wear."
But I still had no clothes. But suddenly Monique was at the bedroom door. She stood tall and powerful. Her dress was casual except the huge spiked heeled boots which I seemed to be seeing more and more of.
"Why are you in my wardrobe closet?" she asked the naked man before her.
"I-I'm looking for my clothes, Monique," I stuttered.
"You'll call me Miss M. from now on," she ordered.
"My clothes are gone, Miss M.," he stammered.
"They were destroyed last night," she said. "Destroyed?" he asked.
"A large, wild female wolf broke into the mansion," she said. "For some reason it tore up your clothes and then ran off with the shreds."
This didn't sound good to me. "I-I find that hard to believe," I said.
"Damn it," she screamed walloping the wall with her furious fist and causing me to tremble. "If I say it happened, it happened."
"Yes, Miss M.," I said to appease her.
"Now get down to lunch," she said. "Or you'll be punished."
"But I haven't anything to wear," I pleaded. "I can't come down naked."
"And why not?" she snapped.
"It would be too embarrassing."
"I'd be embarrassed too if I had a penis as tiny as yours," she said.
"There's nothing wrong with my penis," I pleaded.
"Nothing a good swift boot toe in the balls couldn't cure," she thought.
"Some girls love my penis," I added. "Some of them like to suck on it till I ejacualte."
"There'll be none of that here," she shrieked, stamping her heel on the floor.
"Understand? None. We run an austere mansion and those who offend the sacred disciplinarian's code will be dealt with severely."
"I don't understand," I pleaded.
And I actually didn't. I was a big strong stupid man who was used to submissive females who'd allow me to ravish their sacred vaginal area. Monique stood haughtily on sturdy boots in opposition to that type of thing. The female organs in the M. mansion would never be defiled by men.
"You soon will understand," she said with a mean glint in her eye.
"How?" I asked stupidly.
"This will be an afternoon at the races," she said.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that this will be an afternoon at the races," she insisted with a powerful voice that cracked on the word "races."
"Must I be explicit about everything?"
"But I have nothing to wear if we're going to the races," I said.
"The races will be held here," she said. "And you're in them."
"You've lost me completely," I said confusedly. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."
"Stupid man," she said.
She walked to the closet of disguises and reached in. I watched after listening to her heels rapping on he floor.
She pulled a costume out.
"Here," she said to me brusquely. "Wear this and get your ass down here before I shove a twelve-inch dildo up it."
She left and I was mystified. I examined the outfit she had given me. It was a horse disguise, a one-piece uniform that, when he was on all fours, would make one appear to be a horse. It included a zip-on hood that put a heavy horse's head over my own.
"A horse?" I thought to myself. I slowly put the disguise on. I had no choice because I was too proud to go naked. Exposing the penis injures the man's pride.
I looked in the mirror as I placed the horse's head over my own. I looked ridiculous, I knew.
"But I might as well go along with the gag," I thought. "Why be the spoil sport, indeed."
"Horses?" I thought as I went down the stairs. "And races?"
We had to stop at this point as we were both out of time and Mick had a rehearsal for his new show, which, he assured me, would make him a superstar of the first magnitude. I did not doubt it one minute, having read reviews of his previous shows, but I wondered what he meant. We agreed to meet again in a few days.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Mick returned a few days later, he was glowing with self satisfaction. He was now convinced beyond a doubt that his new show would be a total, overwhelming success and make several million dollars in tours around this country and Europe.
He was eager to continue his story of his adventures with Monique.
Let's see where was I, Doc? Oh, yes, I remember. Monique was totally naked except for a pair of sharp spurs around her delicate ankles. She walked with me, but in a way I had never been walked before.
Monique had placed me in arm and leg chains, and I still had that hot horse's outfit on. But now Monique had mastered me.
Monique had me on a humiliating leash. It was rawhide and attached itself to a tight restraining collar which she had placed around my thick neck.
"I don't want to be a slave and I don't want to race," I called as I was forced to crawl in front of her.
"Shut up and behave," she said.
"At last," shouted Antoinette with glee, clapping her hands in applause. "Very good, Miss M."
Monique took a low bow.
"I'm not racing," I said firmly.
"Yes, you are!" shrieked Monique. She kicked her heel back into my rib cage, thrusting the spiked tip of the spur into my ribs.
"Arrgh!" I screamed. "Holy fuck!"
"Excuse me," said Monique as she stood naked and handsome in the warm sun. "My slave will have to be disciplined severely before the race."
She yanked me by the collar and made me kneel on all fours. "Are you going to behave, or must I chastise you," Monique asked sternly and angrily.
"I won't submit to this humiliation," I sputtered angrily.
Monique took the riding crop which she carried in her left hand. "I hate men who don't submit," she said. "The pain for you will be exquisitely severe."
"Go to hell," I muttered.
She pulled a patch of my costume that had buttoned across my ass. She undid the buttons and exposed my buttocks. "A good spanking will make you a more obedient slave," she said.
Ffffwack went the riding crop. "Yee-ow!" I bellowed.
She lashed my buttocks repeatedly and furiously with her mean crop. I wiggled my ass and tried to crawl away. But the nude, tall and autocratic girl pursued and heartily stung my welted ass with the delights of her crop. Finally, I hunched over and rolled on my side. My buttocks were badly bleeding and scarred.
She kicked me in the ribs and forced me to get up and stand on my hands and knees again.
"Now will you behave?" she demanded. "Now are you ready for the race?"
I was slow in responding. So her deft crop stung across my pretty ass once again, whacking and slapping in the supreme statement of female domination.
"Submit!" she bellowed. "Submit to the dominatrice of the fairer and greater sex!"
"Please-" I said.
So she decided to whip him into submission. She was tired of farting around with him.
"You'll be whipped until you submit!" she wailed.
"Ooh! Ow! Fuck! Shit Jesus!" I screamed as her powerful lash stung my tail.
"Submit!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Submit or be lashed to death!"
She held me by the collar as I continued to scream. The chains hobbled me. I couldn't run. I couldn't hide, and by now I couldn't stand the strange and sweet pain of her lashes any more.
"Please," I screamed. "No more! I'm submitting to be your slave."
"You'll race?" she asked as she held the bloody whip, her symbol of torture and domination, in her powerful hands.
"I'll race," I panted. My ass stung with the smarting pain that only a furied woman with a whip can inflict.
"Do you accept servitude to your dear disciplinarian, Miss Monique M., Mistress of Torture and Daughter of Divine Discipline?"
"Yes," I said. "Yes."
"Yes, what?" she demanded, raising her crop of punishment above her head to elicit the proper response from her reluctant slave.
"Yes, Miss M.," I said, submitting to a female for the first time in my life. "I accept your domination and want you to discipline me, Mick the Superstar-your humble slave whenever I am naughty or whenever my capricious dominatrice so desires."
"Very good," she said.
She was quite pleased.
I learned my lesson of pain well. And Monique had enslaved the rock idol that lesser women would let their own bodies submit to. I knelt before her, humiliated and castrated in a silly horse's disguise. The back flap was still open and my bleeding, beaten buttocks were still exposed.
"Now get back to Miss B. and her 'horse'." Monique commanded. "The race is late getting started."
I was made to crawl back over to Antoinette. Monique poked at my gaping asshole with her crop's point as I crawled.
"Faster," she ordered.
"I'm going as fast as I can." I said.
Cree-ack! The crop lashed across my rump again, followed by a piercing scream from me.
"Never question your dominatrice's commands," she said, "or I will intensify the discipline."
"Forgive me, fair master," I said as my buttocks smarted sharply from the latest lash of the riding crop. "Your humble stupid male slave forgot himself."
"Now for the race." she said.
Antoinette disrobed slowly, first removing her sweater and then her tight slacks. Then her boots came off followed by her bra. Her luscious breasts hung loose, beautifully full and soft and tender. Then she slid her panties down her long legs, revealing to the enslaved but watching men her highly desirable crotch.
We could see the crack beneath her soft hairy bush. But by now she knew that no man was allowed to touch anything so feminine and so delicately precious.
A normal man would give his life and his balls for the chance to orgasm once into the deep soft womb that is found on women like Monique and Antoinette.
And indeed, it had been that desire-the desire to ejaculate sperm into their cunts-that had propelled me to fly moth-like to a point too close to the sadistic and satanic flames that were Monique and Antoinette. Now Watten and I would have to pay the price of the moth. We would have to be burned, punished and enslaved by the strict disciplinarians which these Junoesque women were. It was painful for us.
Antoinette was totally naked. Monique took her in her arms and, as the two women pressed their bosoms together, they held each other tightly and kissed each other's mouth. Their tongues explored the inner depths of their mouths.
Their nipples hardened as the warm sun drenched them in comfort. Monique liked to be naked with the woman she loved. And Antoinette loved it also. To each other they were lovers and friends, sexual partners and sisters eternally. But to we males they were voluptuous hell cats, bitch demonesses from the far and kinky side of sexual aberrations.
They fingered each other's clitoris and pressed their palms to one another's buttocks. Antoinette let her right forefinger wander around and enter Monique's asshole. She inserted it and glided in and out, up and down. Meanwhile, as their erect nipples still pressed together, Monique inserted her center left finger all the way up Antoinette's vagina until it tickled and titilated her cervix.
"Oh," said Antoinette in joy. "How I love you, Monique."
"And I you," replied Monique. "I love you, Antoinette with the same intensity with which those feeble male slaves will be raced, ridden and disciplined."
I trembled at those words. I watched carefully as the two women clutched each other and explored each other's perfectly formed body. Since childhood, I had always had a bizarre fantasy about two perfectly formed women wrestling!
Antoinette and Monique reminded me of it, despite the way I was suffering from the dry grit in my throat and mouth and the abject heat within the hot binding and confining horse disguise. I was hot and uncomfortable.
Monique had buttoned up the patch over my welted ass. And I, like Warren, was forced to kneel in chains and watch the two women love each other.
I had a difficult time seeing through the vision hobbling horse heads. I suffered as the women explored each other's body. Which is the way it should be!
"Let's race," Monique said finally, breaking her embrace with Antoinette.
"Time to mount up," Antoinette countered.
"First the salute, then the referee will be presented," Monique announced. "Then the race will take place."
We were forced to kneel beside each other at a specified line. Then Monique explained the salute.
We slaved were forced to kiss the feet of the opposing dominatrice. Thus, I was forced to crawl to Antoinette and kiss her bare feet and then return to the starting line. Warren, Antoinette's slave, was forced to crawl to Monique and kiss her feet. Monique intentionally stood at the other side of a mound of dogshit so that Warren would have to crawl through it. He did. Then he returned to the starting line.
"The race course is a full mile," Monique explained to us. "It goes from here in the field across the gravel driveway and up to that tree on top of the hill." Monique pointed to a tree at the top of a hill a half mile away. "Then you come back the same way. You will be unshackled for the race so you can exert yourself and crawl faster."
We perked up. If we were to be released from the chains, we reasoned, we could throw off the women and overpower them.
"Now to meet the referees," said Monique cruelly as the sun tanned her nude body. She whistled. There was the sound of barking. Two huge Alsatian dogs, both female, came prancing to Monique.
"These German Shepherds are ferocious beasts," Monique assured us. "They're angry bitches. If you so much as harm the tiniest hair on the cunts of either Miss B. or myself, these noble beasts are trained to tear your genitals off. Is that understood?"
"Yes, dear dominatrice," came my weak reply, "Indeed, fairest disciplinarian," said Warren. "Then the race will commence," Monique said.
Bridles were placed on each of our heads. We were then unshackled. Antoinette climbed on Warren's back, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She was very heavy, but he dared not drop her.
Warren could feel her hairy crotch on his back through the rough cloth of the disguise. It was a small consolation but his only one.
Monique then climbed on my back. I hoisted her and held her steady. She held her spurred heels into his side in case a sharp jab might spur him on to greater speeds. The two vicious female dogs panted and sniffed, watching closely so that the men would remain submissive and inflict no harm on the dogs' human mistresses and sisters.
Both of us had stiff erections as our naked dominatrices mounted our backs. Both of the naked women held the bridle reins in one hand and a riding crop in the other.
"The losing horse will be disciplined severely," Monique said sternly. "I wouldn't want to be him!"
We trembled and our erections twitched.
"On your marks," bellowed Antoinette.
"Set." called Monique.
"Go!" They shouted in unison.
Monique kicked her spiked heels into my ribs to spur me on. Both women cropped us frantically across the rump as we moved off the starting gates. The race was on! The bitch dogs barked and watched, in some cases following close behind and nipping at our heels.
Antoinette took the early lead. Warren crawled out quickly in front of me as I was still hampered by the smarting pain on my buttocks. But Monique gave me the spikes in my ribs again which made me bolt forward and catch the leader. Warren and I paced ourselves over the first quarter mile, a path over the field behind the baroque old mansion and across a gravel driveway.
"The gravel is painful, dear dominatrice," Warren moaned to Antoinette as he slowed down a bit.
Slap! Slap! Slap! Her crop smarted sharply across his buttocks.
"This is not a race for the faint-hearted," Antoinette intoned. "Faster!"
Warren sped up. He had let me get a twenty foot lead as we started the climb up the hill to the tree which was the halfway mark.
"Faster!" called Monique. With her palm she slapped my swelling welted ass.
The pain was too much for my weak male heart. I buckled beneath her and crumpled. The dogs snapped at me as they rushed up the hill to protect their beloved mistress.
"Now! Now!" screamed Antoinette as she cropped her mount on faster. "Now's the time to pass," she screamed.
Warren was driven up the hill to the tree by the unceasing crop slaps from his naked disciplinarian. He had had a huge erection for the entire race. It was practically bulging now. It hindered his speed.
"Up, you no good man!" Monique called, kicking me in the left rib cage. "Up and sprint! They're way ahead."
Warren built a commanding lead as he rounded the tree and began to descend the hill again. Across the gravel again which tore up his knees and palms. And then into the home stretch across the field.
I was unable to gain much ground on him. Warren led by fifty feet going to the stretch on the field. Then, suddenly seeing another mound of dog shit in front of him, he tried to sidestep the turd. Antoinette leaned one way and Warren pulled the other.
Warren slipped and Antoinette came down hard on top of him, knocking his wind out.
"Now! Full speed!" wailed Monique, pounding the crop into me and pressing the spurs to my underside.
She didn't dig them in. She just wanted to frenzy me with the threat of them. I sprinted as best a crawling subservient man can for his dominatrice. Antoinette whacked Warren and had him breathing again in a few seconds. She mounted him and drove him for home. But the accident had allowed Monique and I to pull just about even.
We were neck and painful neck as they moved into the last hundred yards.
"On! On!" yelled Monique. The disciplinarians cropped we mounts hard and mercilessly. It was anyone's race.
We drew within fifty feet of home. The two dogs trailed curiously now, and obviously were in great amusement. The race remained neck and neck.
My legs and knees felt like they'd been put through a meat grinder. We were in great submissive agony. But we had learned that we would have to suffer for the pleasure of our stern mistresses. As all males should suffer for beautiful women!
We sprinted for home.
"I'd hate to be the losing mount!" Monique shrieked as she whipped me without relenting for a single stride. But Antoinette had a better tactic than physical torturemental torture!
Antoinette leaned forward on Warren's back and as her pussy sweated against his drenched back, she whispered, "The losing man will have his balls chopped off! Then he will be forced to eat them fried in onions!"
"Arrgh!" bellowed Warren. With all his strength he burst into the lead.
Monique whipped furiously but the extreme pain at the hands of my nude disciplinarian only slowed me down. I tried to win for my stern mistress but I crossed the line about a second late. I was five feet behind Warren when he crossed the line.
"Over!" yelled Antoinette. "I won!"
Monique was pissed. She didn't like to lose. I would have to be disciplined severely for failing her.
We men collapsed as our mistresses dismounted us. After a few minutes, we were forced to salute the two riders. We kissed the feet of the two women. Then it was time for punishment and reward.
"You were a good slave," Antoinette told Warren as he bowed at her feet before her. "You will be rewarded."
Warren's horse outfit was taken off and he lay there nude before his disciplinarian. He could no longer withhold his erection from her, especially as she stood nude before him.
"Your penis is stiff," Antoinette said.
"Yes, dear dominatrice. It's very hard."
"As your reward you will be allowed an ejaculation."
"An ejaculation?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes," she said. "Follow."
She led him only a few yards away. There were a few animals there, including a nanny goat on a tether. I could see everything.
"You may fuck the goat," she said.
"The goat?" he questioned. "But...."
"Any female is suitable for the penis of a man," Antoinette said sternly. "Either fuck the goat or prepare to have your genitals removed."
A large dog had followed. The bitch growled and eyed the erection protruding from Warren's groin.
"Yes, dear disciplinarian," Warren finally said. "I will fuck the nanny goat."
Warren mounted the goat from behind, a position that a high school girl friend of his had been fond of. A stewardess whom he'd once fucked in Boston had like it, too. And the goat didn't know what to make of it.
Warren closed his eyes as he gripped the goat and stroked his penis in and out of the goat's cunt. He felt his juice starting to surge in his balls. He pressed his groin to the goat and gave two final strokes. His cock expanded, twitched and exploded into orgasm. Just as he was pumping his juice into the goat, Antoinette rapped him on the ass with the crop. Just lightly. It didn't hurt, it was just so he'd associate the riding crop with the orgasm.
After coming, Warren collapsed in fatigue. He lay there in the mini-barnyard, his testicles dripping juice from the goat pussy.
My discipline was one of sublime humiliation. As I lay on the ground, my dominatrice squatted down on my face and urinated on me.
Then she took me over her knee and administered a brisk spanking. I was so confused that I ejaculated on her leg.
The presence of male come on her leg incensed her, so I was locked in an L-shaped arm and leg hobbles and left to lie in the hot sun. An hour later she came back and took a shit on my back.
Mick stopped, his eyes bright with the remembrance.
"What, specifically, Mick, is the reason your manager insisted you see me? Because of this one incident?"
"No," the rock star said, "because I've put it in my show. As a matter-of-fact, the whole show is built around this incident, right down to the dominatrice shitting on my back-all fake on stage, of course."
"Is that it?"
"Well," he said, "more or less. It's not that my manager so much objects to the actions on stage so much as that I liked what happened up there and I plan on going back. No, my manager would let me burn myself alive on stage if he could get a thousand a head-it's that I'm involved with Monique."
"I see."
"No, Doctor, I don't think you do. I dug the shit out of what happened to me. I want more of it!"
CONCLUSION
There seems to be nothing to say about Mick G. His show went on and was, indeed, a resounding success financially. He was in the business of shocking people. The last time I saw him, he'd made another visit to Monique's upstate hideaway and was going to incorporate those experiences into his show, too-with a difference-he'd convinced Monique to be in the show with him and really whip him on stage.
CASE HISTORY THREE
Subject: Meg. P. Age: Twenty-two
INTERVIEW ONE
Meg P. is a beautiful young woman. She could easily be taken for a high-fashion model except for her rather full breasts. I suppose I mean her face not her figure, for that is anything but a classic "clothes rack" which designers seem to prefer.
Meg P. had come in on her own without prior recommendation so I was completely at sea as to the reason she sought counciling or analysis.
It soon became obvious, however. I will let Meg's own words tell her story.
Well, where the fuck do I begin? Let's skip all that dull, boring where-were-you-born shit and get on with it. For all intents and purposes, I and my sister were raised on a farm in Pennsylvania by a couple whom we called Uncle and Auntie. I cannot guarantee that they were blood relatives or foster parents. It doesn't matter any more.
They're both dead now. My sister and I ran away a few years ago. We ran away because Uncle almost raped us-after beating the living shit out of me in the barn with a bull whip because I didn't want to give in to him.
My sister happened to stumble upon us, so to speak, and that's how she got involved. I was strung up in the barn with more than ninety-nine percent of my clothing ripped away from the whipping dear Uncle was administering to me.
There I was strapped against the pole, my dress torn all the way down, the tits, my shoulders, pubic hairs, the whole front of me totally exposed. And there was nothing I could do about it.
It was almost like seeing a dream unfold before me. Uncle Jake was walking toward my sister, taking great strides. He was stark naked. I could see the surprise and fear in Lynn's eyes.
I wanted to holler and tell her to run but I couldn't find my voice and she was rooted to the spot. Uncle Jake snatched her roughly by the arm, yanking her hand from her mouth. He pulled her toward the center of the barn where I was strapped to the pole.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he yelled. "What did you see? Tell me! What did you see?" he hollered, slapping her back and forth across her pretty little terrified face.
I began to laugh. He shot me a blood-curdling glance.
"What the hell do you think she saw?" I laughed crazily. "She saw me hanging here the way I am, and she sees you standing here in the middle of a barn with your prick hanging out!" I screamed. Seeing him for the first time as I did!
He just had to be crazy! Yes, he was an an idiot! He was a stupid, motherfucking, son of a bitch. A village idiot! Here he was with his prick sticking out like a flat pole or something and his hairy ass hanging all out, and he had the nerve and the crust to ask my younger sister what she saw!
My laughter was brought to an abrupt halt as I once more felt the harsh and fearful sting of the whip. The pain of that thing was enough to stop a whining choo-choo. And Uncle wielded it with a terrible force. My laughter caught in my throat and I gasped.
He lashed out again and I felt my body rock in the bloody lines of hurt.
"That ought to keep you and learn you to keep that fucking mouth of yours shut," Uncle retorted.
He returned his attention back to Lynn who sat cowering on the floor at Uncle's feet. I suddenly looked into her eyes. Her look was strange. I couldn't really comprehend what I saw there, but it was almost as if she enjoyed seeing me exposed that way. Uncle followed the glance of my eyes. Then he too saw the look on Lynn's face. He smiled a sinister smile.
"You like to see her like that?" he asked her.
Lynn said nothing. She just sat there.
"Well," Uncle said. "If you like to see that, you'll certainly like to see the rest of it. Sit there! And if you made one frigging move, I'll whip your ass to boot!"
Then he lit in on me.
It was a sif the look on her face excited him more. And he flailed my thighs, tits and tummy with a terrible passion. He must have whipped me for all of five minutes as I screamed and twisted my ass about in protest and painful anger.
Then he stopped and came over to me and said, "Watch this."
He was smiling that evil and lustful grin. His lips were pulled back and his grimy teeth were showing. He rammed a corn cob straight up my asshole. He widened it with further ministrations and it offered little resistance.
He began to goose me in the ass with renewed effort. I hooted in delightful protest. It was strange how this corn cob working in my ass could excite me so much. I didn't want to feel the way I felt, but I did. And I knew inside that I didn't really mind what he was doing anymore. I didn't like the pain, nor nor the beating he issued, but when he started with that corn cob, I just couldn't fight it.
"Oooouuuch," I screamed.
He had the corn cob shoved way up my asshole. Then suddenly, I felt him hit me on my clit with the belt in his other hand. It stung like hell, but somehow it excited me more. It made the pleasure just a little more sharp.
He hit my clit again. I twitched with the sting of the belt. He began to hit it rhythmically, every second on the second. He was warming up to something terrible.
I wished for a second that he would change up and hit my tits or something.
But I soon realized that in the position in which he was standing and with the way I was so completely exposed to him, he had no other choice but to take full advantage of me.
Somehow, every time he brought the belt down it was like he laid another layer of pain of top of the first, piling them up on that one spot.
My body began to burn all over. I couldn't see it, but I was willing to bet that I was turning redder all the time. I was afraid to open my eyes this time. Again, and again he hit me, and all the time, he just kept right on gathering strength, growing stronger all the time.
Even though his wind whistled through his nose like a steam pot, each time he hit me he seemed to gain renewed vigor.
I didn't realize how long the body could tolerate such brutalizing pain. I was beginning to feel like one great big ball, created for nothing more in this world except for my uncle's pleasure of beating me. I began to open and close my legs.
I began to grunt, pushing and knotting up all the muscles in my body as if this action would protect me. I wanted to run, to hide. Again, I realized there was no way out. Uncle seemed to sense it and began to smack me with increasing-force and increasing tempo.
I forced myself to look at Lynn. Her eyes were glued to my body, to my cunt where Uncle was hitting now. She looked up and saw me looking at her. My first impression was that she started to smile. Then the impression left.
Her face clouded over as if she felt sorry for me. but I couldn't shake that first impression. She enjoyed seeing me like this. My own sister was enjoying seeing me abused and debased before her. I couldn't understand it, nor was there time to try to figure it all out.
Uncle was whacking my thighs and legs for all he was worth. Again and again his hand came down upon my flesh. All the while he just kept gaining in strength. Or so it seemed.
I gasped suddenly.
He was trying to hit my tits again, but was hitting my tummy and belly button. I shot a look at Lynn. I could see that she was straining to see what Uncle was doing. She could see him wriggling as he tried to move into a better position to hit my tits.
I was mad, and I was also ashamed that it was my body he was playing with. But most of all I was ashamed of the fact that my sister seemed to be enjoying it too. He suddenly picked up the whip and shoved the handle into my face.
"See this," he sneered. "You're going to get this and more. I am set to stay here all day and whip your ass."
"Uncle," I heard Lynn speak up. "Do you really think it's all right?"
"What do you mean, do I think it's all right?"
"Do you honestly think she'll ever give in?" He eyed her for a minute or two before he spoke.
"Are you questioning my authority to make the decisions around here. Are you? Just who the hell do you think you are?"
"I'm sorry, Uncle," she said. "I only meant that maybe you should think about it before you carry this any further."
It was all beginning to confuse me. I could have sworn she was enjoying the sight of me hanging there the way I was. But here she was trying to speak up for me. Maybe, I told myself, maybe, she was taking pity on me at last.
Or it could have been that I was mistaken from the beginning. I wasn't sure at all.
And I didn't have any more time to think about it. It was like someone raking along the insides of me with hot coals, shoving them into the pores of my skin and firing them up all over again.
I began to breathe harshly. Lynn strained forward. She was all eyes. She looked very scared. But she was no more frightened that I was. My heart was racing madly. I could feel it throbbing in my head. I began to wonder if I was dying or if I was simply going to pass out.
But it was only a dizzy spell. I hung there limply panting.
"Now," Uncle questioned. "Are you going to give me your juicy cunt?"
I didn't answer.
"She is a stubborn bitch," he said to Lynn. "All I want is a little of her juicy cunt, and she just refuses to give it to me."
"Uncle," Lynn exlaimed. "Do you know what you are saying," she said, her face growing with concern as she protested.
I knew she was in trouble as I heard Uncle say: "What do you mean, I can't? Is there anybody to stop me from having some of her cunt? Huh? You going to stop me?"
"No Uncle," I heard Lynn say softly in a fearful tone of voice."
"Then what do you mean, I can't fuck her?"
"It's just not right, Uncle. You just can't up and fuck her like that!"
"Okay," Uncle said. "I can see your point. It makes a lot of sense, all right. But I can fuck you."
"No Uncle. Don't you understand. You can't just fuck us because you want to. It just ain't right!" My sister was insistent.
"I'm going to fuck, one of you this very minute," he rasped. "I've watched you grow. I watched the two of you fill out to full perfection. And I have particularly watched Meg. I've seen her tits blow out to look like scrumptious fruit. I've watched her legs grow and curve into the shape of a beautiful young woman. I've watched her thighs get hefty and full. I've watched her lose all that baby fat and fill out all over, bursting out like the first day of spring."
"I've watched her," he continued. "I've watched the flare in her hips spread out. Just right for taking my hot come!"
I looked down at the two of them and saw that he had Lynn laid back against the floor. All the time he talked, he was walking toward her with a piece of rope in his hand. I could hear Lynn begin to whimper softly. Was he going to tie her up and beat her too, I wondered. Oh heavens, no. Not my little sister too!
"No, Uncle," I cried. "Please don't do that."
"I've watched her fill out, those legs of hers taking on a ripe and luscious look. You can see by the curve of her ass that her cunt is beginning to heat up with hunger for some cock. She can't tell me she don't get all hot and bothered.
I could see Lynn backing up as Uncle ignored my pleas completely and continued to spout out his sermon about me. Lynn's eyes were fearful.
But I could tell she was as stubborn as I was. She didn't want him to fuck her and she wasn't going to let him.
I could see his cock. It was as hard and as fat as a cucumber. It was the hardest, thickest, longest piece of meat one could have imagined. I saw Lynn jump and then she screamed as he ran toward her. I lay my head against the pole and began to cry as Lynn's cries of protest filled the barn. I wept for her. It was all I could do. Uncle tied her up with lusty laughter. Now he was going to her his jollies really good. He had me and my sister. Together!
Two minutes hadn't passed before he was wailing and thrashing her on the barn floor. Uncle was whipping all that belt to her young ass. She screamed for a full five terrifying minutes before she began to run out of wind.
"We're going to the house," he stated flatly. "I want to tear this here pussy up. And then, Meg, I'm going to fuck you like the world was coming to an end, with or without your permission."
Lynn was still panting and looked a litle dazed by it all. But Uncle untied me, then made us snatch up our clothes. Then he led the both of us back to the house, up the stairs and into our room. He whipped me first. I guess he did it for good measure.
Then he threw Lynn down on the bed and began whipping her.
It was at that moment I heard a strange agonizing moan, and looked up to see Auntie Em standing there in the doorway. One hand was up to her forehead. She swayed for a second, like she was going to fall, or was drunk or something.
"Ohhhh, Auntie," I began to cry, thinking of the hurt and shame she must have felt at that moment.
Then Lynn and Uncle both looked up and spotted her too! She turned and fled from the doorway.
Uncle's face was a contorted mask of fear and desperation. He threw the belt down and went tearing from the room after Auntie.
"Em." I heard him calling after her. "Em! Em! Let me explain. Let me explain, Em!"
His voice trailed off, and I guess he was probably running outside after her. I jumped off the bed and went to the huge oak dresser. I opened the drawer hurriedly and began pulling out everything that was mine, the dresses, skirts, blouses, panties, and all that other shit.
I rushed to the closet and yanked down one of the suitcases, slung it onto the bed, flipped the lid up, and began to stuff my things in there as fast as I could.
"Where are you going?" Lynn asked, the tears streaming down her pretty face. She was crying and her face was flushed a lusty red. She was still a little pig, I managed to think. And I singled out that thought for a second, from amid the many others that flooded my brain.
"Where are you going, Meg?" she cried. "Where are you going?" Can I come with you? Please, Meg? I can't stay here now. I can't. You know I can't. Not now. Not after Auntie has seen me like this! Oh, please, Meg," she pleaded.
That's all I needed, another decision to make. I didn't even know where I was going to get the money to go wherever the hell it was I was going. I only knew I had to get out fast. Auntie could be a bitch when she got started. And way down deep inside, I believed that the only reason she had never said anything was because she just didn't know that Uncle wanted to fuck us.
Well, I had been lucky. I had managed to stay out of his way as much as possible. That is until this particular day. But I couldn't take the chance. Not now, not after Auntie had seen us like this.
"Get your ass in gear," I told Lynn, "if you ain't ready to go by the time I am, I'm leaving you, sister."
"Where's my shoes, Lynn? You seen them?"
"In the closet," she said hastily.
I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. She wasn't kidding. She was coming with me. And she wasn't going to be late.
"I'm ready," she said, as I propped my ass on top of my suitcase, trying to get it closed.
"Help me with my case," I snapped in desperation. "Come on. Quick girl!"
She was there in a flash.
We eased out the door and crept quietly, but quickly, down the stairs. It was then I heard Uncle's voice. He was still calling Auntie, so we took it that they were both outside somewhere.
We were forced to stop Meg's narration at this point due to the time. I set up a second appointment with her for the following week.
INTERVIEW TWO
The following week, Meg was quite on time and eager to begin. Since her reason for seeing me was still in the mystery stage, I let her continue with her narration.
My sister and I ran away and came here, to New York. It was really an easy journey, but when we arrived we were very broke. Both Lynn and I are lusty bitches-so we started hooking.
That last a month or so when we were informed that without the protection of a pimp or madam, we didn't stand a chance. Country bumpkins that we were-we believed it. It was a large, Amazonish woman who told us that; we called her Big Red, and that seemed to be the only name she had.
She introduced us to Wanda and Butch, both women. Wanda was the madam, Butch her lover and assistant, and Big Red was the muscle-not too bright, but strong and with a beautiful body.
We were informed that there was a training period we had to go through, discipline, Wanda said. This was necessary, it was explained, in order to become high class, one-hundred-dollar whores. Lynn and I were apparently willing, because we went off with those three women to their house for the instruction period-they kept referring to it as "basic training." It was only later we realized what we were being trained for.
I had thought that there was nothing worse in the world than what Uncle Jake had done to me and Lynn. How mistaken I was. We weren't in the place thirty minutes before we were bound and gagged and humiliated. The three women actually had a room full of men (about eight in all) chained to the walls. We watched Big Red suck their cocks and torture them in various ways. After that Lynn and I were placed in a room.
Shortly thereafter, Big Red came in and sat on my face, her pussy almost suffocating me.
I distinctly heard Big Red's command above the audible sucking noises of my mouth on her pussy.
"Use that tongue of yours, bitch! Harder, harder! That's the way. Ah, yes. Yes. That's it. Now keep it there. Right there! Hmmmmmmmm. Ahhhhhh. Ohhhhhhh. Keept it up. Keep it up.
"Oh, you're good honey. You're very good. Yes. Un-huh. Some more. Give me some more, I'm almost there. Just a little more. Yes. Yes. Ohhh, wheeee, ahhhhh."
The hefty red-headed bitch creamed in my face. She actually squatted there writhing and twisting her hips about, and sliding that sweet tasting cunt of hers to and fro across my mouth and aching tongue until she came.
Suddenly I realized I had mentally described her cunt as sweet-tasting. What was wrong with me? What was all this about-looking at women's bodies? I remembered feeling sort of mushy as I looked at Butch's delicious curves out there in the back yard.
I could also remember looking with an exciting fascination as Big Red sucked off each of the men. I remembered catching myself staring hard at the wide cleft in her ass as she bent over to give one of them a quick blow-job.
I could see all her cunt hanging there between her fat thighs. But why had I been looking so hard?
I remembered looking at my sister and getting excited while watching her body too!
I wasn't funny was I? I wondered to myself. Then the thought came back to me of how I had got hot seeing that strange man's prick get all hard and stiff.
Well, I couldn't explain it. I didn't have the answers. But I told myself that as long as I could still enjoy cock, everything was all right!
The big, hefty redhead had slowed down her movements some and had somehow managed to ease the pressure against my locked face. But she was still there. Her cunt was dripping like a leaky faucet.
What choice did I have, I asked myself. None! No fucking choice at all. So I might as well, I concluded. And I stuck out my tongue some more and continued to lick out her pussy hole.
Her cunt was all fired up still, and the taste of her come was still warm in my mouth. The taste excited me to no end, as did the act of eating cunt this very first time.
I told myself that I wouldn't make a habit of it, but that I wouldn't say I'd never eat it again, voluntarily. Because secretly I knew that, given the chance again, I would.
Big Red began to move her hips a little more now.
She still had her fingers hsoved up my aching cunt. She hadn't made me come yet. But she lay leaning back, her ass still spread all over my head, and her cunt planted firmly against my mouth, her cunt lips spreading over my own oral lips.
I just lay there sucking her cunt at a leisurely pace when suddenly she began to goose her cunt into my mouth in short, jerky motions.
"Do it now," she rasped. "Now! Now! Now!"
She was panting heavily and very loud, and her ass and hips were moving with the speed of a jack hammer. She was moving too fast for me to manipulate my tongue, so I just made it as hard as I could and kept it stuck up as far as I could into her cunt.
Her sporadic movements became much stronger, and the pressure was hard against my mouth. But just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, I felt her grab a tight hold of my clit, yank on it and let it snap back.
That did it! I was so damn hot I burst out all over the place. She put her hand back on me and rubbed my clit fiercely, making me die in the delicious fires of a juicy come, but the way she had snapped my clit, even if she hadn't put her hand back on me, I'd have kept coming anyway. I was just that hot and fired up!
I was again flooded with the warmth of her come. It seemed like she creamed more than she did the first time. And I could actually feel her leaking into my mouth. I gulped and swallowed it down.
Big Red moaned and groaned in announcement of her greedy come, while there was nothing else I could do but lay there in the dying ebbs of my own orgasm. I could feel the juice running down between my legs and onto the bed.
Then I got the surprise of my life as she removed her cunt from over my face and went over to Lynn. They still had us strapped with our legs gaped open. So it was an easy matter for Big Red to crawl between my sister's legs and start to eat her young muff.
"Love young cunt," she breathed hotly, just before she shoved her face into my sister's cunt.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Me, she beats half to death, then tosses me off the orgasmic cliff with a cheap finger-fuck. But to my sister, she gives a muff-job.
There was no doubt left in my mind. This bitch had a lot of crust! A hell of a lot of crust! After a few moments the strain on my eyes began to hurt and I had to relinquish my view of the weird scene. I wished to hell I didn't have those frigging clamps on my neck and head.
I wanted to see what was going on.
Just then the door opened and Wanda walked in. "Haven't you finished yet?" she asked.
Big Red raised her face from my sister's sopping young cunt.
"No, I haven't," she answered matter-of-factly. "But I will be in a couple of minutes."
Wanda tossed her head up in the air and cam straight toward me, while Big Red went back to eating my sister, who was moaning and groaning like a stuck pig. But I understood. I knew how she got when she was hot.
Big Red continued to eat Lynn out until she came, while Wanda did nothing more than play in my gaping cunt, just simply diddling around, not bringing me to a full climax, but keeping the fires burning and keeping the juice flowing steadily.
Just as Big Red was wiping her mouth after sucking my sister to two more orgasms, Butch came through the door.
"It is time to take them out," she announced. "The men first!"
The girls left the room and returned a short while later. Then they undid our straps, tied our hands behind our backs and led us down the hall to the outside.
The men were standing just as they were before, and almost in the identical spot as before. Or at least, that's that way it looked to me.
My man was still standing first in line of the other eight men.
"Today," Butch began, "we are not going to test the discipline of our little school, but instead we are going to show the results of such; that is when the technique is applied concientiously and with a certain amount of professional skill.
"Of course, the professionalism comes only with experience. But I am proud of my two girls. And at the rate of progress the school is now making, I'm sure that in a short while we can have more girls to help us discipline the men. And with that achievement attained, we can therefore go about getting more men."
She made a signal with her hand, and Big Red walked over to the men, produced a key of sorts, and unlocked the metal collar from around one of the prisoner's neck.
She pushed him out of the line-up, then refastened the link of chain together, once more linking the other men together.
"Now, you will see a demonstration of discipline, the results of dedication and loyalty."
She nodded with her head to Big Red who now stood just in front of the newly released prisoner.
With blurring movement, Big Red's arm slashed to her side in a horizontal slash, smashing the man in the face and tumbling him backwards. She had caught him off guard. He was in the process of trying to pick himself up when she stepped in his groin with the heel of her boot.
He wheezed in pain, and a violent gasp tore from his lips. But he spoke no words, nor made any other sounds of pain. Big Red let him get to his feet before she kicked him in the nuts. I saw his eyes widen like they were going to pop from their sockets, the tears cascading down his face. But the prisoner said nothing.
He was doubled up in pain, but was making a courageous attempt to attain an upright position once more. It was while he was doubled over and trying to strighten up that Big Red came from behind her back with the riding crop, holding it backwards in her hand, so that the handle pointed away from her.
With this, she rammed the handle up the slightly parted ass cheeks of the man's ass. That goose in the ass brought him to life sure enough. He squealed loudly, and shot straight up in the air!
But before he could do anything to gather his composure she had whacked him solidly against the nuts again. This time I saw his lips twist up in pain. I saw the spittal form around the edges of his lips. His eyes burned hot with anger and he glared at her.
"You're not glaring at me are you, sonny?"
Big Red swacked the whip handle across the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from his nostrils. I assumed she had broken it. I had never seen a regular bloody nose spew forth like that one was doing. I later found out that she had broken it!
As he stood there sniffling, trying to suck his life's blood back into his head, Big Red then swacked him across the wind pipe in his throat. The man immediately broke out in a fit of gagging and coughing.
The expression of pain on his face was a horrible thing to witness. For I saw him straining mentally in desperation to clutch at his throat in some manner of easing the pain. But he couldn't. His hands were tied behind him.
Still he did not utter a word. Only his face registered his insufferable pain, and the extreme of his humiliation and degradation.
Big Red then reached down between his legs, grabbed hold of the limp cock and tugged on it harshly. I watched the man pinch his lips tightly together to keep from screaming out. And Big Red saw it too.
She was half bent over but her head was turned backward looking up into the prisoner's face. I knew she was going to do it. As surely as I saw her slowly move her hand, still filled with his cock, back towards his balls, I knew she was now going to yank on his prick with all her strength.
And that's exactly what she did. A pitiful and tormented scream burst from the man's mouth. And he screamed as Big Red took another vicious yank on his poor and beaten cock. The man began to stamp in place, going from foot to foot.
His mouth was opened wide in an obscene mask of death and terror beyond belief. Big Red gave him a quick series of short jerks on his obviously painful prick. Then what should appear, but a hardening dick with a pre-come droplet.
Was she actually working him up this way, I asked myself, somewhat confused. The man had looked like he was in pain to me. I would have sworn that he was. But it seemed now that if I had bet he wasn't enjoying the pain she inflicted upon his person, I'd have lost.
I studied the man's face closely; as closely as I could from my vantage point. His prick was definitely hard now. But I wanted to be sure. I had to know if he was merely responding to her in much the same manner as my man had done yesterday; merely to amuse her and lessen his own grief.
Or was he actually enjoying the pain? I found that answer out now long afterwards.
"Did I ask you to get a hard-on?" Big Red snapped at him.
The man said nothing. He was moaning very softly now. He seemed very scared to me.
"I asked you a question! Is that hard-on because you have dared to look at my sacred body? Did I ask you to get stiff? Did I? Did I?
She squeezed him by the prick. I guess she was squeezing hard, because the man's eyes were wedged to the edge of his eye-sockets it seemed.
"Answer me!" Big Red yelled in a violent voice.
The man no longer tried or pretended to be brave. He was crying outwardly and very audibly. His mouth was opened very wide, the tears streaming down his cheeks, and he was crying for real.
Big Red walked away from him and approached Wanda who immediately produced a whip from behind her back, which she placed in the girl's hand.
Big Red went back and stepped off a reasonable pace. Then she began to lash out at the man with the whip, the one with the metal attached to the tip of the braid. Again, I saw the strips of flesh being torn from the miserable creature's body.
With the accuracy of a professional, Big Red applied the lash to the prisoner's left arm, and with each stroke she worked her way down his arm, tearing off flesh every time it bit into his skin. That portion of his arm, from the position in which he stood, gave Big Red a profile shot of his whole body, and looked like a small tree stump of sorts.
And it was getting bloodier all the time. It was a wonder she hadn't thought to work her way to the back of him and apply the lash all the way down his arm to where his wrists were tied together. But she didn't do that.
She contented herself with working only that part of his arm which was immediately exposed. Then the last began to cut and bite into the side of his rib cage. It was here that I began to see the bits of flesh really do a flying act. All pretense of subservience was gone as the man protested loudly and in violent language against the fierce whipping being dealt out to him.
Again and again, Big Red applied the lash to him. One time, she made a mistake, letting the last bite into the same place twice, and the second time, when she pulled the whip away, a torn and bloody hunk of flesh hung from the metal barb. The man screamed like something caught up in the throes of death.
And I stared hard into the hole in his side. I could swear I was seeing some of the white inner meat of his hide. Blood was leaking from the wound and streaming down his side. My eyes felt hot, and it was only then I realized I was crying too.
He fell to his knees, as Big Red continued to strip the flesh from his body.
"Stand up!" she cried savagely, reaching out with the long snake of a bull whip, then reeling it back in only to repeat the same action over and over again.
"Stand up, I said! Stand! Stand!"
The man was sinking lower and lower onto his knees. Finally, Big Red reeled in the whip and strode angrily over to the still screaming figure. She began to thud against his head with the whip handle. Again and again she thumped across his head, beating him into the ground.
I heard Lynn moan softly, and I shot her a look that said in so many words, "Keep your frigging mouth shut!"
She understood and pinched her lips tightly together just as Butch looked back at us, her eyes roving from one to the other. Then not knowing which of us had made the sound, she turned back around to the spectacle.
The man was crumbling over and was just about to fall flat on his face when up came Big Red's boot and smashed him a blinding wallop in the face. The kick sent the man reeling over backwards onto the grass, where he lay writhing and twisting and yelling in pain.
He squirmed like a bloody snake that someone had set fire to his tail and had forgotten to untie it. His cries were wretched and coming from somewhere in the back of his throat.
But still Big Red continued to beat on him, whacking and slashing him across his chest with the whip handle. Then it seemed as if she couldn't get enough and she began to punch into his face with her small fist. His nose was a bloody wad of flesh and crumpled bone dust. There was blood in his eyes, his ears and in his hair. It was on his chest and arms, legs and thighs.
I started to tremble in murderous fear. For everywhere I looked upon his body I saw nothing but blood and mangled flesh all torn up and bruised badly beyond description.
Suddenly, she stopped, stood up and backed off. She stood like a wicked and triumphant queen of some sort, looking down at her vanquished. Then she knelt down beside him and began to stroke his cock.
She smoothed her hand back and forth across it's shriveled length, caressing and touching it gently. Then I watched her take the whole length of cock, what was left of it, in her hand and begin to squeeze it with a gentle milking sort of motion.
The man was still moaning and groaning loudly. But to my amazement his prick started to get hard right there in her hand! Slowly, at first, then gradually it began to swell. Big Red raised up a little and straddled his groin with her thighs spread far apart, then she squatted down a little and began to wipe the tip of the prick along the crevice of her very moist pussy.
The cock gave a sudden jerk, then swelled tightly and erected itself into a full hard-on, throbbing and jerking, the tight-fitting head bobbing like a dummy on a stick. Then Big Red unstraddled herself and took up her kneeling position at his side once more.
There she sat, a whole handful of prick, after she had just finished whipping the daylights out of the dude, and she began to pull it off for him.
The man was still groaning a lot, but he was trying to open his eyes. He managed, but they just rolled around inside his head. Then he closed them back. Less than two minutes later, Big Red bent her head down over the tip of the cock, less than an inch from it. She jerked downward on the sleeve of it, and it spat-a thick and creamy wad of come which she greedily and expertly caught in her mouth.
Then she clamped her lips tightly around the cock head and sucked the rest of the come up through he stem and let him empty his balls into her mouth. His hips twitched a couple of times as the last waves of his orgasm swept over him. Then he passed out on the grass.
During the entire torturous scene, not one of the men looked around to see what was happening. I didn't know whether to believe that they were just plain idiots, or whether this was the discipline Butch had spoken about.
"You've had an extraordinary series of experiences," I commented to the young woman.
Meg. P. just puffed on her cigarette and stared stony-eyed at the wall.
"Yeah," she finally said, "extraordinary experiences."
"It's not clear why you came here to see me. Do these sado-masochistic experiences revolt you?"
"No. They make me come."
"Do you want to change those feelings you have when you have an S & M scene?"
"No. Not at all. I think they're terrific."
"I'm in love with my sister. I don't want to be a lesbian."
CONCLUSION
Meg P.'s trouble with lesbianism was the least of her problems in my eyes. However, no patient is "cured" of anything they don't wish to be cured of and an analyst must always remain objective and make no judgments in cases of this nature.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
Subject: Hal M. Age: Twenty-five
INTERVIEW ONE
Hal M. is a large, muscular, virile young man and is quite nice looking. He seems to be in his mid-twenties. He wears his dark hair closely cropped and is clean shaven. He dresses neatly and quietly in a near-fifties fashion.
Hal was introduced to sado-machostic sex while in the service and found that he liked it very much, so much that no other form of sexual activity appealed to him ever again.
He sought advice from an analyst after a particularly harrowing event in his life. The following is a transcription of our first interview.
It started with Lil, Doctor. I met her at a party and we really hit it off, right off the bat as soon as we laid eyes on each other. Lil is a big, beautiful woman about a year or two younger than me. Because she was a large woman I figured that the sex with her would be livelier than that I had had with the oriental beauties who'd introduced me to S and M. And I was right. I noticed how her eyes now lowered themselves, so that she was staring straight ahead at my crotch. "Cigars are so masculine. I love being made love to by a man with a cigar," Lil said.
I wasn't sure if she was putting me on or not.
"By the way, what's your name? You know my name, it's only fair for me to know yours."
She was looking into my eyes again, and her strange orbs looked more mysterious by the minute.
"Hal," I told her.
"Oh, that's a very masculine name, I think," she said, admiringly. "Yes, I think I like that. Hal...." She almost sighed the name, " ... that denotes a certain cockiness, I would say...."
I thought: you're so right, baby ... my cock's going for you in a big fucking way ... I puffed on my cigar.
She seemed to almost inhale the smoke from the cigar as I did. She looked at me and said, "May I try it?"
"Try what?"
"Try your cigar, of course."
I handed it to her. She stuck it into her mouth, and tried to take a few puffs. She coughed a few times, but managed to keep it lit, and keep it in her mouth.
From the way she wrapped her lips around it, it looked just like she was sucking cock.
Then....
I couldn't help it. I was getting so fucking horny and my hard-on wasn't going any further down. Just the way she looked while trying to smoke my cigarette made me unzip my fly and whip out my cock, and I was surprised to hear myself saying, "Why don't you try this? It's a lot better than any cigar you'll ever smoke."
"I beg your pardon?"
She looked at me with loathing, distaste and disgust. She started to hand my cigar back to me.
Then I grabbed it right out of her hand, and stuck it right into my mouth, taking several deep, almost savage, puffs, as, simultaneously, I began to smack her in the mouth with my prick.
I was suddenly cock-whipping her.
It was instinctive, almost intuitive, with me. She'd asked for it, and she was going to get it. Since I didn't have the whip with me, my prick would be like a whip, showing her who the fuck was in charge here.
She just sat there, taking it, not moving a muscle. She wasn't even crying, much less attempting to scream, as I released my fury and frustration by smacking, first her right cheek, then her left, with my cock.
Suddenly I stopped.
I realized that it didn't seem to be affecting her in the least. Just that her face was red, almost raw, where I'd been whacking her.
Even my own cock was sore from smacking her.
I just stood there, almost amazed at her tranquility, as I continued to puff my cigar, until the bathroom was getting cloudy from the cigar smoke.
Finally, she looked up, giving him a sad sort of smile, and said, softly, "I needed that ... I wasn't treating you properly and politely ... I deserved that...."
"I'm sorry...." I mumbled, temproarily taken aback by her sudden change in attitude.
"Don't be. I liked what you did." She began to remove the upper part of her pants suit, right before my startled eyes. When she took off her bra, too, I could really see what kind of tits she had on her.
They were huge. It would take two of my hands to hold one of them. They were firm, despite their size, and stuck right out like two ice cream cones, their nipples almost as long as my litle finger, taut and tempting. Her skin was so white, so soft, and her big breasts were so smooth that I could hardly help reaching for them....
"No, not that."
I stopped f I didn't say anything. I was beginning to wonder what kind of a weird broad I was getting involved with.
"If a woman asks a man to do her a favor, doesn't the man usually respond?" she asked, pointedly.
I thought: all right, baby ... you asked for it ... Smack ... smack ... smack ... Right on the tits, I socked it to her with my cock.
Back and forth, on the top of her tits, on the nipples, on the bottom, the cleft between her breasts, these places, and more, I kept whacking her, until my cock was as sore as if I'd shoved it into an overly tight cunt.
When I had finished, her breasts, and the surrounding skin areas, were just as red and raw as her cheeks.
I did notice a difference this time.
Her eyes were starting to burn like blue-green flame; she was getting aroused, all right, because he could almost smell the pussy juice, and I could see that her crotch was beginning to move, she was beginning to squirm, in her position seated on the edge of the bathtub.
"Stand up," I said, "and let's get the rest of those clothes off."
She slowly stood up, her muscles moving like an animal's and she stripped off the rest of her clothes.
Her legs were as magnificent as I'd thought, well tapered and slim. Her waist was trim, her stomach was flat. Her pubic hairs were the same shade as those on the top of her head.
Her cunt was partially open, the lips were parted as if trying to make conversation, and I could see the pinkness of her membranes inside.
I couldn't help but notice, also, that her clit was just as erect as her nipples, if not even longer.
"Just keep standing there," I said, really feeling my cock becoming even more excited with every second after I started whipping her crotch.
I got her clit with my cock, as well as hitting her cunt lips. I was really working out on her, and enjoying every stroke I gave her.
She just stood there, smiling enigmatically, apparently digging it as much as I was. Finally, I had to stop.
My sperm was backed up in my balls, and my prick was vibrating like a tuning fork. I wanted to fuck her too, and I certainly didn't want to shoot off my load from accident. Not until I got my cock stuffed firmly inside her cunt, I didn't.
I noticed that her face was as flushed with color as the rest of her body. She was really savoring the workout I'd given her.
I looked down at my cock.
It was just about as raw. It looked like a real hot-dog, hanging out from my pants.
"It's very nice," she said, pointing at my prick.
"But why don't you take off your clothes, too?" Then she winked conspiratorially at me, saying, "Or would you rather do it with your clothes on?"
I laughed. "I'd rather do it period."
"Then let me help you off with those clothes."
She unbuttoned my denim jacket, and pulled the crew-neck T-shirt I was wearing underneath the jacket over my head.
"I like all that hair on your chest, let me feel it," she said, curling some of my chest hair on her fingers.
"It feels like steel wool, and that's the way I like it."
Her voice seemed to be getting lower and lower in the vocal register. It was smoky and sensuous, and I was really feeling like fucking her. She was a real masochist, I thought, a prime cut, and I was going to love to really cut her cunt with my cock. I hoped it would be like a knife slicing into butter.
"While you're playing with my chest hairs, I'll just take off the rest of my clothes...."
"No ... let me help you."
She let go of my chest hairs, and unbuckled my belt. I dropped my trousers, and she got down on the floor and untied my shoes.
"Please sit down on the edge of the bathtub," she said, "so that I can get the rest of your clothes off."
I did.
Shirt first, then my pants. This time I got up again, so that she could slip off my shorts, and, as she did so, she took hold of my prick with her fingers as if measuring it, and gave me a gentle, subtle squeeze right on the tip.
I almost exploded on the spot.
"Don't do that," I said.
"I know, but I like it so hard, like a whip. I love you when you whip me like that."
"Wait until you see my real whip," I said, almost bragging, thinking of the way her eyes would really come alive when she saw it.
"When will I see it?" she said, eagerly, scratching me on the scrotum.
"Right after we fuck."
"Then let's fuck, shall we?"
"Sure-get in the tub."
She hesitated, as if she'd misunderstood me. I whacked her on the stomach with my cock, and repeated," Get in the bathtub, or shall I fuck you on the floor?"
"All right," she said, almost meekly.
As she climbed into the tub, I marveled at the wondrous curves on her ass, the way the cheeks held together just like a child's. Maybe I'd fuck her in the asshole sometime, just to see how it felt. But, for now, it was strictly front door, as I followed her into the tub and came down on her.
I felt her marvelous breasts pressing needle-hard with their nipples against my chest as I lowered my body upon hers. My cock tickled her cunt lips, and they began to open and allow my entrance.
With one single, all-consuming thrust, I drove my dick right into her, propelling it forward like a guided missile, slamming it like a cartridge shell into her cunt.
She gulped, gasping in surprise, as my swollen cock penetrated her cunt. Her vaginal muscles hastily accommodated the new visitor, and I could feel that her pussy was a good sized one, but not so large that I was loose in her. No, she held me tight. I was all the way in, now.
She started to come, her juices flowing freely, and she reached around my waist and got a good grip with her fingernails into my buttocks. I could feel the pressure of her nails, so I began to pound her pussy with my prick, driving her like a truck, ready to fuck.
As I pounded away, I could feel her really going into orgasm. She was starting to sweat, and I got hold of her long hair and began to pull it, to yank at it, to show her where the power was.
She whimpered like an animal, then moved her head, as best as she could, around to the side of my head so she could lick my ears.
I felt her tongue snake inside my ears like a cock into a cunt, as she started to lick my wax right off.
I felt her pussy muscles really clutching my cock, and I drove myself even deeper into her, until, my aching cock, ready to burst, I came.
I came, slamming her buttocks against the bottom of the bathtub. I blasted off a clean, surging spurt of sperm that had her cunt crying for more, as her pussy muscles clutched at my exploding cock.
I fucked her until I was ready to collapse, but till, she kept moaning, "More, more...."
"I'll give you more!" I almost shouted, whipping my cock loose from her cunt. "Try this for size!"
And, with my dripping prick, I began to smack her in the chops again, as she kept crying for more.
Smack ... smack ... smack....
Our time was up at this point and I realized that Hal hadn't gotten anywhere near the point of his story. So, we agreed that he return at the same time in a few days.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Hal arrived for our second talk, he was eager to continue.
Well, Doc, that was only the beginning for Lil and me. We had plenty of fine S and M sessions like what I told you about the last time. But like any relationship, it did start to get a little dull. But we were still so interested in each other, in exploring our sexuality, that we invented things to keep each other going.
One day Lil suggested we go to the country home of an aquaintance of hers, a Mr. Joseph S. He was a very wealthy recluse who had met Lil in relation to her work. I agreed when I was assured that Mr. S. was very much a devotee of the S and M scene and could provide some interesting diversions for us.
He was a weird man, Doc. He was only about thirty, but was already living like a hermit-except, of course, Joseph was very rich and could do anything he wanted. Like walk around in full armor when the mood hit him-which was often.
We were in the guest bedroom, prancing around naked.
Lil had my whip in her hand, and she was trying to whack me on the butt.
"Hal, you just don't know what a wonderful feeling it is until you try it."
"Now Lil, look, just because you eat it up doesn't mean that I have to, does it?"
"If you would only try...."
"You seem to be confused, sweetheart. I'm the sadist, remember? You're the masochist, understand?"
"That's not the point.."
"This," I said grabbing hold of my cock, which was about half-erect, and swinging it like a gun in her direction, "is the only point I want to make."
Lil laughed with her eyes. Crack!
The whip snapped out, missing my cock by inches.
"Hey!" I shouted, getting angry. "Don't you ever do that again, you crazy cunt! You could have castrated me!"
Crack!
This time, she only only missed my by no more than an inch, and one of the cut glass pieces on the coils caught me on the big toe of his foot as it descended from its downward arc.
"Ouch!" I yelled, spotting a few drops of blood on my toe. Lil just stared.
"Now look what you've done!" I complained.
I pointed to my toe, giving her angry vicious glances. Her joy began to evaporate, she began to look morose, sad, as she slowly let the whip drop until it was touching the floor.
"Hal, I'm sorry," she said, her voice low keyed.
"Give me the whip," I said, advancing toward her. I was not, however, holding out my hand. For all I knew, she might whack my hand with the whip. I was getting to the point where I couldn't trust her about that thing any more, especially in the Baron's castle, too.
She lowered her eyes, as I kept on walking toward her.
When I was close enough to reach out and take the whip away ... Crack!
"Goddammit, girl, are you out of your mind?" I yelled, pissed off to the point of wanting to kill her.
She had swung the whip around, and caught me right on the left cheek of my ass. I could feel blood dripping out, though not seriously so, and I could feel the sting where the glass had chopped open my skin.
"Admit it, Hal, you liked that," she said, getting ready to strike at me again.
I moved fast.
As she was drawing her hand back, I leaped forward and cought her by the wrists. I gripped hard, until my thumbs pressing at her nerves caused her to drop the whip to the floor.
"Damned crazy cunt," I muttered, still holding her. I dragged her along the floor to the bed, where I flopped her on the sheets, then climbed in bed myself.
"Aren't you going to whip me first?" she said, her voice sounding disappointed.
"What I ought to do is beat the shit out of you," I said nastily.
"I wouldn't like that as much as being whipped."
"Well, you're going to get fucked, not whipped."
"Well, Fucking's no fun without whipping."
"Tough shit, we're going to try it that way and see what happens."
She gave him a mocking glance. "Suppose I don't want to?"
"Then I'll throw you out of the fucking window-without whipping you at all."
"I wouldn't like that."
"I didn't think you would."
I bit her on the lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, then backed off a bit and licked at the blood so that she got a chance to taste it, too.
She licked the remainder of the blood away, and swallowed it. The way she did so made me think of late-night vampire movies on TV. It almost gave me a bad case of the shivers.
I took hold of her by the shoulders, and braced her back against the headboard. With my knees, I spread her legs apart. I was going to fuck her Buddha-style, for a change; I didn't know how much serenity I'd get from it, but it would be a change from the usual scene.
I rubbed my cock against her clit. It responded in its usual swift manner, and I could feel her body trembling again, as she felt those electric thrills coursing throughout her nervous system.
As I was doing this, I gave her a gender love bite on her upper lip-no blood this time--and her tantalizing tongue slipped out and tried to French me while I was doing it.
So, I closed my lips on hers, only this time I let her tongue me, let her do the heavy tongue work, feeling her hot, panting tongue slurping away at my moist mouth membranes, while my cock worked out on her vibrating clit.
She was soon moaning and groaning with lust, so I dropped my cock and let it rub against her sweaty cunt lips. It didn't take much to get them open. It was almost like an electronic eye for opening a garage door and, within seconds, my cock was easing its way into her juicy, wet cunt, just sliding into home plate like a baseball star who'd hit a home run.
I could feel my foreskin being pulled back by the pressure, and my prick was now as hard as it was ever going to get. I rammed it in, deeper and deeper until I had her back firmly pressed against the headboard of the bed, and my cock firmly enclosed inside the full length of her cunt.
I stopped kissing her.
I gave her some strong love bites on both ears.
She started to tongue me in the ears, her tongue doing my eardurms what my cock was doing to her cunt.
I braced my legs and feet on the mattress, and started to hunch myself forward, bringing pressure to bear on her pelvis. I had her ass and back now flattened against the headboard, and my cick began to make its rhythmic thrusts, its sexual motions, inside her cunt.
She started to come.
Her pussy juice began to flow, dampening my crotch, to say nothing of the bed.
She shoved her titties against me, her nipples hard as needles against my chest.
Her orgasmic movements became wilder, move upheaving, as her body shook the bed itself.
My back was straining as much as my balls, from the position I was in.
She was coming, her cunt churning like a geyser, her pussy palpitating wet and sticky and practically crushing my cock in its embrace.
I thought: crazy, wild, fucking cunt ... I could fuck you day and night ... you're really out of sight.
Then ... I came.
I exploded, slamming her against the headboard with a hard, driving thrust, as my sperm spilled out of my prick like water from a turned-on faucet. I blasted her pussy full of come juice, feeling her muscles responding, her body responding to mine.
I grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head toward mine, snuggling close against her shoulders, as my prick pumped gallons of sperm into her palpitating pussy. She gulped it down, her eager cunt demanding ever more, as usual.
I was still upright, and she hadn't fallen down, either, while we continued our fucking, until my dick turned as limp as liverwurst.
Then, I pulled her down on the bed, lying on top of her quivering body, letting her finish out the throes of her orgasms....
There was a discreet knock at the door.
"Get the fuck out of here!" I shouted.
Silence for a few seconds.
Then a key was inserted in the lock-that pissed me, for I'd locked the door from the inside. It must be somebody's master key, I thought, and the door slowly swung open, Joseph peeked his head around the corner and said, mockingly, "Do you always talk that way to your host, young man?"
I felt like saying "Fuck you, Joseph." But, I managed to restrain myself, and only muttered, "Do I break in when you're in bed?"
"You couldn't, for I never sleep," he replied with aplomb. Then he added, "I would not have bothered you, except that the table is set for lunch and you are nearly an hour late. Of course, if you would rather eat later...."
"We shall be ready in five minutes, Joseph," Lil said, giving him a welcome-wagon kind of smile.
"Thank you," Joseph said, withdrawing as he closed the door.
"Can you shower, shave, and shit in five minutes, sweetheart?" I asked her, sardonically.
"The first, yes, the others, not necessarily now," she replied sweetly.
We showered together hastily-no sex under the shower, though-and got dressed. I put on the same outfit I'd worn previously. She, however, slipped into a slinky pants suit, but one whose top part was V-cut in such a way that plenty of cleavage was showing, especially when she might bend over for anyreason.
"Why don't you sell your tits to Joseph, then you won't have to be teasing him with just a few inches showing? He can have them all that way," I said.
Lil scowled. "I believe you're getting jealous, Hal. How many times must I tell you that there is nothing between Joseph and myself?"
"That's not his fault. If he'd get his ass out of that silver suit, he'd try to fuck you right on the floor."
"Really...." She sniffed at me, pointing her nose in the air. "That is not only jealousy, but juvenile."
I thought I had to get out of here. Nothing but hassles and hangups, antagonism and arguments. Get my ass away from this castle. Get things back to where they were.
The lunch, of course, was cold by the time we got to it. I didn't care. The food was good and filling, and I didn't give a fuck about its temperature at the moment.
Joseph didn't seem to want to let us linger after lunch either. He said, impatiently, "Come, come, children, I have been dying to show you the whip collection ever since you came here. Come, come, you must see it, you must appreciate it, it has taken me many years to assemble and catalogue it properly."
Lil expressed delight. I just wanted to get it over with.
He led us to the basement, to a room near the torture chamber, where it took three keys to unlock the huge oaken door. Then, the light he switched on glinting on his suit of silver armor, he waddled into the room, threw out his hands, and said, gleefully, "Welcome, my children-welcome to the world's greatest whip collection."
We glanced around.
It looked like some sort of S and M museum, with walls, tables, cases, brackets all over the room literally draped with whips. Literally hundreds of whips, made from all kinds of materials, all sizes and shapes. Long, lean Texas type bullwhips ... thin, Italian types, with stiletto blades stuck on the coils, some with lead balls attached others with cutting edges like machine tools, some primatice, some modern ... not too many actually falling into the Medieval catagory.
But, apparently, the most complete collection of its kind, as far as I knew, that I'd ever seen or heard about, in the world.
I whistled. I had to hand it to Joseph. It was a pretty impressive colleciton, no douby about it.
"How long did it take you to put all this stuff together?" I asked. "All my life."
"Did you start the collection as a child?" Lil asked, her eyes wide open with wonderment.
"I was given my first whip for my fifth birthday. And my first dog at the same time. So...."
"You whipped the shit out of your dog," I interrupted.
"No, you have it all wrong. My mother whipped me for some minor infraction of the family rules, and then my dog was allowed to lick the blood off my wounds."
"I'll bet he was a nice friendly dog," Lil said.
"I didn't get to know him all that well. The following day, my father poisoned him, because he bit him."
"Why would your father bite your dog?" I said in a needling manner.
Joseph's face was getting red, as if he'd been running around the moat a few times, as he choked out a reply, "You have it all wrong, of course. My father did not bite my dog...."
"Too bad you didn't get a donkey for your birthday instead," I said.
"Why is that?"
"Then you could have told your parents to bite your ass."
Lil laughed in spite of herself. Joseph gulped a few times, then said, "As I was saying, it had taken me all of my life to assemble this outstanding collection of whips. I have several favorites, but among them I would be inclined to prefer this one, I believe, over all the others."
He reached toward one of the whips, which was lying on a plush pillow inside a glass case. He opened the case, and withdrew the whip, holding it in his hand as if it was a surrogate prick and he wanted to use it. It looked something like an iron mace, which was a kind of medieval club used by knights in close combat for bashing in skulls. It was about two feet long, heavy and metallic, and encrusted with sparkling fine jewels, rubies and diamonds and turquoises, and from the end just one cord, about six feet long, protruded as the coil of the whip. It was braised wire, studded with what looked like a series of miniature knives with serrated edges. It looked dangerous, but unwieldy.
"Did you by any chance, bring your whip?" Joseph seemed to be speaking to both of us. Lil opened her purse and drew hers out. "And you, sir?"
"If I had, you'd be looking at it," I said.
Joseph went to the door, and rang some kind of a bell. A servant appeared, he spoke to him, then came back into the room. "I have sent one of my servants to fetch your whip." Joseph said. "You shall have it shortly."
"That's awfully nice of you, Joseph, but suppose I don't want it? I mean, there are plenty of other whips here, I just want to look around and learn, if you know what I mean."
"I think you will soon see the reason I asked my man to fetch your whip," he replied, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You may find it quite useful, before you leave, I assure you."
Just then, the servant came running in with my whip. Joseph took it and dismissed him. As soon as he was gone, Joseph locked the door and placed the key inside his suit of armor.
I noticed that movement, but didn't say anything.
He walked over to me, his suit of armor clanking like a tank, and handed me my whip.
I took it, and gave Joseph's armor a quick flick of the whip, right on the part of the metal that covered his buttocks. There was a flaky, metallic sound as the glass barbs scraped against the silver armor.
Joseph glared at him.
"If you have scratched my expensive silver armor suit, young man...."
"Silver doesn't scratch, it only tarnishes," I commented dryly. Then, I added, "Besides, you wanted me to have the whip, I didn't. So don't blame me for any problems, blame yourself, old man."
He chuckled. There was almost a twinkle in his eyes.
"Yes, of course, you are right. Come, let me show you around."
We spent the better part of the next hour following Joseph around the room, while he went into a long, sometimes boring spiel about his fucking whips, where they came from, how much they cost, and how they were to be used.
Lil seemed totally fascinated by Joseph's bullshit. She was even, at times, waving her own whip in the air, as he demonstrated some new accessory or some unusual use to which his whips could be put. It was almost as if iether Joseph or his whip collection was hypnotizing Lil, making her really feel like whipping something or somebody.
I just wandered around with them, keeping my whip at the ready, just in case. I was becoming more suspicious by the second. The whole thing smelled like some kind of a set-up, though I wasn't sure what.
I had the vague feeling I was to be the patsy in some fancy game they were playing. The entire place was giving me the creeps. I really wished I'd never come, invitation or no invitation, Lil or no Lil. In fact, I was half-inclined to split the scene, and let Joseph keep his fucking whips and Lil too. She was really getting too freaked-out for even my tastes any more.
What to do?
My temper was rising, I was starting to sweat, I was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. I felt like a trapped rat, a bird locked in a cage. I wanted out, right now, not later, but now.
"Now, my dear, this particular whip comes from North Africa, where the Moors used to whip the slave girls in their harems...."
On and on, his voice droned in a monotone, never varying in pitch or inflection. Nothing but whips, whips and more whips. And Lil, that dumb cunt, she just couldn't get enough of that shit. She was hanging on every word.
And, now, I noticed that she was hanging on to his arm, too, as if she'd already decided to make a switch of boyfriends, to ditch me and latch on to Joseph.
Too much.
Too fucking much.
Crash!
Hearing the noise, both Joseph and Lil quickly turned around.
For I had taken the butt end of his whip-the part carved like a phallus--and smashed the glass on one of the cases. In the case was a long, monstrous bullwhip, and they watched as I reached inside and pulled it out.
"Hal," Lil said, admonishing me now. "Why did you do a thing like that?"
"Yes, young man, why did you break my glass case? That is willful destruction of my property, and that I will not allow. I must ask you...."
"Shut the fuck up!" I yelled.
They both stared at me as I cracked the bullwhip at the suit of armor Joseph was wearing, nearly flicking the tip right on his nose.
"Open the fucking door and call your fucking chauffeur," I said angrily. "I'm getting the fuck out of this fucking place right now." I pointed at Lil as if she was a piece of goods in a department store. "Keep her if you like, but I'm leaving, and that's that!"
"I knew you were jealous!" she screamed, almost in tears.
Joseph slammed down his helmet visor over his face, so that his entire body was now protected by the gleaming silver armor. His voice sounded like an echo as he said, beneath the visor, "Young man, you will pay for that. I shall whip your young lady...." He paused, " ... after I have had her whip you until your skin has flayed off."
Hal paused for a long time and I wondered why he'd stopped his story.
"Well," I coaxed, "what happened?"
"We got into a battle royal and tore the place up."
"Very interesting, Mr. M. A most interesting story. Why have you come to me?"
"Well, Doc, you see we really ripped the place up down there and some of that stuff Joseph had was really expensive, I mean antiques and things like that, you know what I mean?"
"Yes."
"And, well, he's like suing me-and my lawyer thought I might be able to plead temporary insanity, see?"
There was a long silence as I contemplated what he'd asked me. "No, Hal, I can't help."
"Oh, well, I see. I told him it wasn't a good idea."
"That's why you came to see me then? That's the only reason?"
"That's it, Doc."
That was the last time I saw Hal M. I found his story interesting in that the S and M sessions seemed to me to go beyond the bounds of the rules laid down by Frederic M. (see case history one).
I would have liked to explore this particular aspect further, but Hal wasn't seeking analysis.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
Subject: Robert G. Age: Thirty-one
INTERVIEW ONE
Robert G. looks like the typical young businessman who is successful, which he is. He had married his wife just four years ago. It was in relation to their relationship that he came to see me.
The following is a transcript of our first interview together.
It all started about a year ago. We'd just celebrated our third wedding anniversary and I thought everything was just fine. My marriage was good, my business booming, my prospects bright, my health excellent.
Well, one night the strangest thing happened. I was just lying there in bed with my wife, Claudette, when she started talking.
"Oh," Claudette sighed, "three years now and I'm still flat on my back."
"What?" I said.
"Three years, darling. We've been married three years, and still I'm flat on my back."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you said. What's the matter, don't you like it that way any more?"
"Oh yes! Yes, I love it, darling. I love it. I can't live without it. But it seems like we could do it differently sometimes."
"We do. What are you talking about? We do it all kinds of ways. You get on top, I've done it from the rear, we've done it in chairs, standing up, and there was that time on top of the washing machine. Remember that?"
"How could I ever forget it. I had an orgasm right on top of the washer, where any neighbor could have walked in and seen us."
"You loved it though."
"Of course I loved it, but it was naughty of me to let you do it. You should have spanked me for giving in to your lust like that," she continued.
"I couldn't spank a sweet little thing like you, darling"
I rolled over and held my wife's face in my hands. I kissed her high, smooth cheeks and stroked my hand over her long hair. I loved my wife, and wouldn't do anything to hurt her. I cherished her, and was as tender with her as the day we met, as the night we first had intercourse, when I popped her cherry.
I never realized the strong desires that my gentle and loving little wife harboured in her soul, however. Claudette had always wanted to be taken by force, to be given my manhood whether she wanted it or not.
Claudette nestled her face up to my neck, and ran her wet tongue down in my ear. She knew how much I liked that. She aroused me with her darting tongue, and then whispered to me.
"Why have you never raped me?"
"What? Are you crazy?"
I raised up and looked at my wife. I didn't understand her. I was so shortsighted in seeing all of her. I saw only the sweet and gentle young woman.
"Rape you? What do you mean, rape you? Why should I rape my own wife?"
"Maybe she wants to be raped, that's why. Maybe she's already been raped, and she liked it so much she wants it that way again."
I stared in horror at her. I could hardly believe her.
"Claudette, you're not telling me you've been raped?"
"Oh, I'm not? You certainly don't know your business associate very well."
"Thomas? Thomas A? That mousy little guy? Oh, come off it Claudette," I laughed, "Thomas could never rape anyone, especially not my wife. What are you talking about?"
"Well, maybe it isn't right to call it rape. I guess I did kind or arouse him a little. He was hardly to blame for giving in to his desire. After all, how much will power can a man be expected to have?"
I sat up on the bed and stared at her, my eyes wide with disbelief. I was shocked. Though I didn't know yet if she was telling the truth, I wanted to hear more. She had never lied to me before, and I didn't know why she would start now-not with a confession like that anyway.
I looked at Claudette curiously. "Did something really happen between you and Thomas?"
"Well, it was neither of our faults, really. It was that day he came over to help you build the barbeque. Remember? You went for another bag of cement? You were gone a long time, Robert, remember?"
"You've got to be kidding me, Claudette," I laughed nervously.
Claudette lowered her eyes and seemed to be ashamed.
"I was in the kitchen, and I didn't know that Thomas was in there too. I was bending over, reaching under the sink for something, and I guess my shift rose up a good bit. And of course, you know that I don't wear panties most of the time.
"I guess Thomas caught a good view of my naked ass, because I heard him start breathing pretty heavily. I stood up and whirled around. It shocked me when I saw him standing there. He must have been looking up my shift for quite some time, because when I happened to glance down at his pants, I saw what a huge bulge had risen up there.
"Before I knew what was happening, that bulge was pressing into my thigh, and Thomas's hand was running up my shift, feeling my soft behind."
"Oh Claudette, this is crazy! Thomas isn't that kind of guy. Now come off it. You're kidding me, aren't you?"
"No, no I'm not Robert. I've been wanting to tell you about this ever since it happened. It's been bothering my conscience. I don't want to keep arty secrets from you, darling."
She reached up and pulled me down on top of her.
"Please forgive me, Robert. I feel like it was all my fault. I'll be even more honest with you. I knew that Thomas had come into the kitchen. That's why I bent over in front of him."
"Claudette, I've never been so shocked with you in all my life! How could you do something like that?"
"Oh, I don't know, Robert. I was just bad, that's all. I get to feeling real naughty sometimes. And I think I ought to be spanked for it. Maybe if I were punished, I wouldn't get those naughty desires any more."
"Oh, that's ridiculous, Claudette. I can't punish you."
"If you don't, I'm liable to be bad again."
"Maybe you should start seeing a shrink then."
"Damn it, Robert, I don't want to see a shrink! I want to see your hand raised to me!"
My eyes glared. My wife stirred something in me that had never been felt by me before. I acted spontaneously.
"Like this?" I said, raising my hand over her face. "Is that what you think you need? A good smacking?"
Claudette wiggled out of my arms and flopped around on the bed, putting her soft white ass up by my head.
I think I should be spanked for my wrongdoings," she said.
I looked down at the beautiful feminine ass, and felt nothing but sexual lust and love for it. I couldn't see myself striking her, but she seemed to really want that. I thought for a long moment, and then lightly smacked my wife's buttocks.
She twitched. "Oh, that's right. Spank me. Spank me hard."
I smacked my open hand down a little harder this time. She jumped and pretended to be flinching from the light sting.
"Oh, Robert, give me a good spanking, darling. I deserve it. I'll feel a lot better after I've been punished for what I've done."
"Okay, if you want a spanking, then you'll get a spanking."
I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my wife across my knee. I felt her furry muff rub against my thigh as I positioned her ass.
"Do you want me to give you a good spanking?"
"Yes! Yes! Punish me like my father used to! Spank me hard, Robert. I've been a bad little girl."
"You're mighty damn right, you have!"
I slammed my open hand down on her ass, and the cheeks flinched, jiggled, and tightened up. I was thrilled with the two hollows that formed in the ass cheeks when my wife flexed her buttocks. "Spank me!"
"Showing your ass to my partner, huh?"
I slapped her ass again, harder this time. She flinched and loved it. She hung her head down, though, and showed her shame. My eyes widened, and I suddenly felt like spanking my wife good.
I started smacking her ass with heavy, sharp, rapid blows of my open hand. The ass flesh cracked and jiggled. Claudette hung her head and wept.
"Is that enough for you, young lady?"
"No," she wept. "I want to pull Robert's pants down and get my hands on that cock of his again. It's so big and hard and I like the way it...."
"That'll be enough out of you!" I snapped.
I jumped up letting my wife tumble to the floor, and went for my pants on the chair.
"Oh, the head on his prick is the biggest, juiciest thing I've ever...."
"You'd better hold your tongue," I snapped, whipping the belt out of my pants.
"-the juiciest thing I've ever sucked into my mouth," she mumbled from the floor. "Oh, the way it twitches up and down against the roof of my mouth and-"
Crack! The leather belt smashed across Claudette's white ass, and she broke off her sentence with a sob. Her ass stung, and she didn't think it would be the last blow of the belt.
"You're disgusting!" I yelled. I was furious with her now. I believed every word she said, and was repulsed not only with her action, but with her insistence on telling about them.
I raised my belt to her again.
"You're no wife," I said. "You're a slut!"
I slashed my belt across my wife's shaking ass. Claudette felt that blow on the bottom of her stinging buttocks. It was what she wanted, and she felt the humiliation setting in.
"Oh, Robert, that's enough," she cried from the floor. "I didn't mean to show Thomas my fleshy ass. I didn't mean to pull his throbbing prick out and suck it off. I didn't...."
"That'll be enough out of you, you adulteress!"
I slashed my wife's ass with the belt again and again. Claudette rolled across the floor when the blows began to sting too much. She stuck her hand back and felt the hotness of her soft cheeks. They were stinging red. She stared up at me, her eyes watering, her sweet mouth pouting.
"Robert, you're too hard. I told you the truth, didn't I? I didn't have to tell you about letting Thomas ejaculate in my-"
"Why, you little two-bit whore!"
I rushed over to my wife and slapped my leather belt across her hips. She buried her face in her hands and wept with shame. She knew I was right, and she could do nothing but cringe before me and accept my punishment.
"Oh, Robert, I didn't mean to. I wasn't trying to be bad."
"Get over to that chair!"
"What? What are you going to do?"
"Do as I tell you! Now get up from that floor. You look like a slovenly old bag. You've got to be punished for this. You were damn right when you said you needed a spanking."
I yanked her up from the floor and pushed her over to the chair in the bedroom. I quickly turned it around and made her lean over the back of it.
"By the time I'm finished with you, young lady, you'll never want to see Thomas again!"
"Oh Robert, don't be too hard on me."
Smack! With a full, wide-swinging arc, I cracked my belt across my wife's trembling ass. It was a sharp blow that brought up a bright red welt on her soft white ass cheeks.
"Robert! That was hard!"
It's going to be harder than that before I'm finished! Sucking my partner's dick! That's shameful!"
I whacked the belt across her shaking fanny again. She flinched, and began to sob. It was more than she had expected from me, and she probably began to wonder if she had let herself in for more than she wanted.
She put her hands back to her stinging ass to block any more blows. She looked back over her shoulder and her watery eyes gazed up at me. I looked threatening and powerful. I was naked, and stood with my feet spread wide apart, my belt poised in my hand.
"That's enough, Robert. It wasn't all that bad. It was just that one time. At least I didn't let him finish where he would get me pregnant."
"Damn you! You don't know when you've got it good, do you? Turn back around, young lady! I'm going to whip the piss out of you!"
"No, Robert!"
Whack! The belt whipped across Claudette's protective hands. She jerked them away and leaned her head over the back of the chair. I was out of my mind with anger. She had no choice but to accept my vented spleen.
She felt my leather belt strike her ass again and again, until finally she could stand it no longer. She collapsed to the floor and shook with sobs.
"Robert, don't beat me any more!"
"Do you think you deserve leniency? After what you did with Thomas?"
"I just sucked his-"
"You bitch!"
Smash! Crack! Pop! I delivered blow after blow to the trembling and nude flesh of my cowering wife. She curled up on the floor at my feet and covered her face and head with her arms. She cried.
"Oh, I've never been so humiliated in all my life! How can you just stand there and whip me when I'm helpless on the floor?"
"How can you take that creepy little bastard's dick into your mouth?"
I slashed my belt across Claudete's quivering breasts. A bright red streak rose up on the gentle white mounds. Claudette covered her head, cried, and tried to scoot off across the bedroom floor. As she scooted off on her hands and knees, I followed close behind her, whipping her ass.
The belt cracked loudly, and left big red ass cheeks as the symbol of punishment. Claudette crawled as rapidly as she could, crying all the time, until she made it out of the bedroom and began crawling down the hall.
"You're a cocksucking whore, aren't you?" I screamed.
Pow! I whipped my wife's ass agin, as I trotted along behind the frightened woman. Claudette crawled into the living room, and crouched there, whimpering.
"Robert, don't beat me any more!" she cried. "Please don't whip me, Robert! I'll be good from now on. I promise!" Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Just look at you," I huffed. "You cringe and cower and beg like the disgusting adulteress you are. You deserve more than you're getting. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, I know it. I know it, Robert," she cried.
She looked up at me, and covered her wet face with shame. Her elbows held her trembling tits tightly. She folded her knees under her, and sat back on her naked haunches.
"Do you understand me, Claudette? This is no light matter, my dear. It's adultry! That's exactly what it is-adultery. It's the most shameful thing a wife can do! Aren't you thoroughly ashamed of yourself now?"
"Oh yes, yes," she sobbed. "I'm humiliated and ashamed of myself. I'll never do it again. But you didn't have to chase me into the living room. You didn't have to run after me and beat my ass like I was an animal."
Claudette buried her face in her hands.
"I've never felt so degraded in all my life, Robert."
"You should. Just remember, you get what's coming to you. Now get up from that floor and start acting like a mature woman. You're crying like a baby."
That night, Claudette was more than a little anxious about going to bed with me. I had struck a note of fear in her heart that afternoon with my violent whipping. She was impressed with me, with my fatherly wrath, and my masculine ability to punish even one I loved.
And Claudette certainly knew that I still loved her. She cuddled up next to me in bed, and immediately ran her hand down to feel my cock.
"Am I forgiven?"
I felt my cock swell in my wife's massaging hand, and answered, "Yes, I suppose you are. I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. But I just lost my head, that's all. I'm sorry."
"You're not mad at me any more?" Claudette cooed sweetly.
I turned and kissed my wife.
"No, I'm not mad at you any more. I love you."
"Good. Then you'll understand my forgetting to tell you about the first time I was with Thomas."
I bolted straight up in bed. "What? The first time?"
"Now Robert, don't get angry with me again. It was just a simple little thing. All we did was touch each other. I mean, how could I help it when I accidentally walked in when Thomas was in the bathroom? I saw his penis, and I just couldn't help but touch it."
I jumped out of bed and went for my belt again.
"You're going to get the belt again, young lady!"
"Oh no, Robert, not again! Not tonight! I'm still red all over. Please don't whip me, Robert!"
"Get out of that bed!"
I grabbed my wife and yanked her out of bed. I pulled her over to the chair and turned her across my knee. Her naked fanny trembled and shook as I raised my doubled-up belt, and then started delivering a series of sharp smacks. Claudette kicked and screamed on my knee, but she was helpless.
"Robert! Don't whip me! We did it while you were in the house! It was only a minute! All we did was feel each other!"
"While I was in the house? Right under my nose, huh? You're going to get a spanking you'll never forget!"
The loudly cracking belt reddened her ass good. She kicked her long, slim legs up and down and cried.
When I had whipped her well, Claudette found herself sleeping on the couch for the night. She was put out of my bed. She was in the dog house, and she certainly felt like a dog. She felt her reddened and stinging behind, and pouted with her shame.
During the night, after she was sure I was asleep, she crawled into bed with me. I woke up to find her flicking tongue over my penis. In my half-awake state, I succumbed to the pleasure, feeling my penis rise and stand rigid. When I suddenly became urgent to enter my wife, I pushed her over on her stomach, lifted her whipped ass, and plowed my cock up her asshole, full force, without lubrication or preliminary priming.
Claudete was satisfied. She surrendered to my ruthless dog-fuck, and soared to an incredible orgasm. Then, when my warm semen was safely in her ass, she snuggled up against my chest and felt my strong, protective arms wrap securely around her.
"Did you tell Thomas that I confessed?" Claudette asked me the following evening.
"No, I decided not to even mention it. I'd rather forget about it."
But I wasn't able to forget about it. A week later, I found myself listening to another of Claudette's confessions. My blood slowly boiled as Claudette told me what had happened.
"I called Thomas on the phone, trying to get you, darling. We started talking, and before I knew it he was inviting me to lunch. I didn't have anything to do, so I accepted his cordial invitation."
"Come on, come on!" I fumed. "What happened? So help me, Claudette, if you've been with that little creep again, I'll blister your ass good!"
"Now Robert, you have to be understanding. How did I know Thomas was going to drive up behind that empty supermarket? How did I know he was going to pull me into the back seat and pull my panties down and pull his-"
"He what? You what? You let-you could have stopped-Claudette you're in for it!"
I leaped up from the bed and went for my belt.
"Oh darling, you're not going to spank me, are you? she pleaded.
"You'd better believe I am! Screwing in the back seat with Thomas! How adolescent! You act like a teenaged girl, and you get treated like one! Get over here and turn across my knee!"
"Oh Robert, don't spank me! Don't whip me! I won't be bad any more."
I sat on the edge of the bed and turned my wife across my knee. I shoved her filmy nightie up her back, exposing her tender and juicy buttocks. They quivered and trembled as Claudette wiggled and pleaded for leniency in the spanking.
"If you keep on being bad, Claudette, I'm going to continue punishing you. Do you understand that? I want you to know what you're getting this for!"
"Yes, yes, I know I've been bad. I've got a spanking coming to me. Just don't hurt me bad, darling."
Crack! The first lick of my belt stung her ass. She flinched and groaned. Crack! the second lick was harder, bringing a crimson streak to the surface of her ass. She squirmed, kicked, and cried over my knee as I delivered a multitude of loud belt slappings across her quivering fanny.
"Is that enough for you, young lady? Have you learned your lesson?" I finally asked when I had finished the whipping.
"Yes, yes, I've learned my lesson, darling! Please! No more!"
I flipped my wife off my knee, back onto the bed. She curled up and whimpered, feeling the shame and humiliation of having been spanked. Keeping a stern face, I crawled in beside her, but kept to my side of the bed.
"Are you mad at me, darling?" she asked, scooting up to me.
"I have every right to be, don't I?"
"Oh yes, darling, you do. I needed to be spanked."
I turned to look at her.
"You know," I said, "sometimes I think you like being spanked. I think you enjoy being turned across my knee."
Quietly, Claudette said, "Oh, I do, I do. I really do, Robert. I get pleasure out of being humiliated so. When you spank me, I feel like a little girl again-a little girl who's been naughty and needs a good spanking."
"Hell, if you feel that way about it, I should spank you every night."
"Oh yes, yes!" Claudette beamed. "Spank me, darling, spank me! Make my fanny quiver and tremble with you whippings!"
"Why do you want to be humiliated like that?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe if I turned you across my knee and gave you a spanking, you'd see why."
"You're crazy. No woman is going to spank me.
"You deserve it, Robert. You need a good spanking. Everyone does. You're no exception."
My eyes widened. "Why do I need a spanking, for goodness sake?"
"Because," Claudette pouted, "You spank me when I really haven't been bad. I made all those stories up, Robert. I've never been with Thomas. You should have sensed that. You should have known I wouldn't commit adultery."
I sat up in the bed, staring at my wife with bewilderment.
"What? You've just been fibbing? Just to get me to spank you? What sort of nonsense is that?"
"It's not nonsense, Robert," Claudette said, sitting up and getting on the offense. "If you don't understand me, then you ought to be spanked for it. A man should understand his wife! I ought to teach you a lesson!"
I laughed and turned over. "That's ridiculous, Claudette. No husband gets spanked by his wife."
Claudette jumped out of the bed and retrieved my leather belt.
"Well, you're going to be the first, buster!" she snapped. "Pull your drawers down! I'm going to whip your fanny good for you!"
I rolled over and stared at my suddenly changed wife. I wanted to smile, to laugh at her. But the expression on her face kept me from doing so. Claudette looked stern and authoritarian, and she had the belt poised in her hand.
She whipped the blankets back and grabbed for my pajama bottoms. I wiggled away, but she jumped on the bed and went after me.
"Get over here and turn across my knee, young man. The more you try to stop me, the more you're going to get it!"
I jumped out of bed, howling at my belt-wielding wife. She lunged for my pants, and yanked them down to my knees. Jumping out behind me, she locked her arms around my waist and pulled me back to the edge of the bed.
"Claudette! What in the name of hell are you trying to do? You can't spank me! This is ridiculous!"
"You'd better behave, young man! Now come on, take your medicine like a good little boy, and it won't be half as bad. Remember, this hurts me more than it hurts you! Now get across my knee."
With considerable struggling, she managed to get me across her knee. I fought back very little, not thinking my wife would really spank me.
"Claudette, now cut this nonsense out! I'm a grown man. I'm a married man, a business man! I can't be spanked like this."
There I was: the grown man, the husband, the business man, wiggled and squirmed on the woman's knee, fighting like a little boy. My wife raised the belt to me, storing down with fiendish eyes at my quivering, hairy buttocks.
Seeing me in that humiliating position thrilled her.
Crack! She popped the leather belt across my ass, very hard. My ass flesh smacked loudly, and I howled.
Claudette slashed the belt down on my ass again and again. Her arm flailed through the air with a fury. The belt flashed up and down rapidly, popping and stinging my exposed buttocks. I yelped and kicked, but she did not let up on me.
"Enough!" I shouted.
"Not hardly!"
Claudette panted heavily and worked up a sweat with the whipping on me. She was getting the thrill of her life out of it. She had never seen me in that position before, and it did something to her. She watched my hairy ass become redder and redder.
"This ought to teach you a lesson," she yelled.
She held me down with her hand on my back, and her belted hand flailed with the anger of a maniac. Again and again the leather belt streaked across the stinging ass flesh, unti red welts rose up and she decided to have mercy of me.
She rolled me off her knee, and I fell to the floor. I had never felt so humiliated in all my life. I stared up at my authoritarian wife, almost believing she was my mother. With my pajama bottoms still around my knees, I felt lower and more babyish that I thought was possible.
I reached back and felt my stinging buttocks, and then stared up at my wife again.
"You're really mean, you know that?" I said.
"Oh, am I darling?"
"You certainly are. That was ridiculous. Spanking your own husband. Turning him across your knee like a little boy. Imagine what people would think of me. You like to be sadistic, don't you?"
"Oh yes, Robert, I do," she said remorsefully. She crawled onto the bed, on her stomach, and lifted her little nightie up her back. She turned her head and looked at her husband on the floor.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I've been naughty again. Spank me, darling. Spank me!"
Her fleshy buttocks trembled as she saw me rise and reach for my big belt.
Robert G. paused, lighting a cigarette, then continued briefly, "In the last year we've gotten into some heavy scenes, Doctor. Not just this spanking stuff, but more and more elaborate things, you know?"
"I'm familiar with how these things happen and develop, yes," I said.
"Well," Mr. G. continued, smoking, "it didn't bother me that we were doing this. Actually, it sure livened up the marriage. But, something's changed recently and just last week I realized what it might be. I came home early one day, Claudette wasn't around, and I stumbled across this ... "
Robert G. reached into his attache case and took out s small but "real" whip. "I found it among Claudette's thing," he said.
"Are you worried about this?"
"Kind of, Doctor. Kind of. I guess there's a bit of coward in me."
"Actually, Mr. G. you're asking me to make a decision for you and that I cannot do."
INTERVIEW TWO
Mr. G. returned the following week. I asked immediately in anything had happened in regard to the whip.
"It certainly has!" he exclaimed, and I noticed a flush of excitement color his face.
"What?"
"Well, a couple of night ago, Claudette was particularly naughty and I had to spank her. Later in the evening, I went into the bathroom, and there, lying out in plain sight was the whip-the one I showed you with the bits of glass in the tip. Well, I knew what she wanted."
"Yes," I said, "go on."
I took die whip from where it lay and walked into the bedroom. I whirled it in the air a few times. Claudette didn't even look up.
I could feel a throbbing in my crotch as I did so. I didn't have to look down to know that my prick was starting to come to life. The whip was stimulating me quite fast.
I stopped whirling the whip, and the cords fell like a weeping willow. I placed the cords directly on my wife's well-rounded ass, and slowly drew them along her flesh, the cut glass chunks especially.
Her body began to tremble, as if she was jerking herself off. I could especially notice her buttocks shivering, as if being exposed to a cold wind.
I kept up what I was doing.
Only, with each passing second, I increased the speed with which I was dragging the cords across her ass.
She seemed to respond in direct proportion to this, because I was really getting her going after a few minutes of this. I smiled; I was pleased. She was coming along just fine, so far.
I moved the whip so that it was going along her back, and I noticed those same movements beginning again, only in the different part of her body.
I worked over the nape of her neck next, and she began to make soft, sobbing moans. She had her head almost buried in the pillow, so I couldn't see her face at all.
Her legs got a going-over, too; all slowly and softly, but with increasing strength and speed.
I watched her anus with interest; it was almost as if the cheeks of my wife's ass were opening up like the lips of her cunt. Almost as if she wanted to be fucked-in the asshole. I began to think about that. I was tempted to take the handle of the whip and prod her right in the asshole. But, I didn't really want to jam the whip us her ass; I might get shit all over it..
Those two round mounds were tempting as hell, the way they moved under the stimulus of the whip. I reached over for the radio. I turned up the volume, almost as loud now as if they were in a club or concert hall, listening to the music in person from a front-row seat. If she got too excited and started screaming, the noise would drown out her voice, so that we wouldn't get in trouble with our neighbors.
I waited for almost half a minute, creating additional tension, additional excitement. I knew she was expecting me to really start working out on her; I figured if I delayed the first strike for a while, she'd really be ecstatic in her expectations when my arm-with the whip-finally came down on her soft, pliant flesh.
I took hold of her long hair, which was spilling over her shoulders and onto the pillow. I stroked it, cat-like, softly and sensuously. My wife began to purr like a pussycat; after feeling the whip against her flesh, even mildly, this was an unexpected sensation.
"You like that, don't you, darling?"
She nodded, and moaned her approval.
I grabbed hold of her hair at the top of her head, and yanked her head back, so that now her face was revealed. She could feel the pressure, and I noticed that she almost had tears in her eyes from it.
"You like that, too, right?"
"Yes, oh yes, you're so good to me, darling."
Still holding her hair, I said, "Well, then, let's see how you like this!" Whack! I brought the whip down on the left cheek of her ass. Hard. Almost as hard as if I punched her with my fist. She let out a choked scream, which was fairly well covered by the extra volume of the radio. Her body shuddered as if she had received an electric shock.
I let go of her hair. Her head fell back onto the pillow again. I noticed, as I looked at her left cheek, that the flesh was raw, with a few cuts. There were touches of blood on her fair skin now.
I made a mental note to make sure she didn't bleed on the sheets. Blood spots were always hard to clean.
I brought the whip down on her right buttock. Whack! Again, she shuddered and I was pleased to note that the effect was the same as when I had whacked her left cheek.
I began to work over her buttocks in earnest with the whip. Whack! Whack! Whack! With each blow she moaned and trembled like a frightened animal. But, for the tones and the quality of her voice, I knew she was enjoying each stroke.
My wife was screaming, writhing, vibrating with sheer sensual pleasure, with each touch of the whip upon her flesh. I though that I really had a live one. She was fantastic in her responses. She really loved it.
"Yeah," I shouted, over the twanging, freaked-out guitars and the whining vocals of the music from the radio. "You really love it, don't you, you bitch? You really eat that shit up like caviar with a silver spoon, right?"
"Yes, yes-more, more-"
I could feel my cock growing, as I kept whipping her. I was getting as stimulated as she was; my cock was sticking straight out like a cop's club, and I was getting so excited that I started to whack her with my cock as well as the whip.
"Ow!"
That was my mistake. I had gotten my cock into the line of fire of the whip, and accidentally taken a whack at it.
I dropped the whip, and checked out my cock. There was a welt rising on the foreskin; luckily, I hadn't hit myself on the tip of the scrotum. As it was, I could feel enough pain to cause tears to form in my eyes.
My wife turned her face toward me, suddenly noticing that I wasn't whipping her any more. She saw me looking at my sore cock, and understood what had happened.
"Let me make it well, darling," she mumbled.
I understood. I moved over so that my cock was next to her face. She stuck out her tongue, and began to lick my sore dick. Her tongue was soft and smooth, and she made me feel beter at once, as she licked away the soreness.
Then she started to suck me off, putting my prick into her mouth.
"No!" I pulled it back, saying, "Do you want me to come in your face?"
She nodded.
I thought for sure that she would, but not this time. I had other plans.
Whack! I smacked her on the lips with my prick to teach her to get such silly ideas out of her head.
I climbed in bed with her then and decided to fuck her in the asshole this time, and to really let her know who was in charge of the show.
Spreading her cheeks apart, I placed my prick at the entrance to her anus. I began to shove it inside, forcing her sphincter muscles to open and allow me passage.
She really began to moan and groan now. But, those were sounds of pleasure, and both of us knew it. As I was entering her, I picked up the whip, and began to work out on her back.
She was really shuddering now, as if she was already having an orgasm. I could feel my prick probing deeper and deeper into her asshole, forcing her sphincter muscles to accommodate my instrument of pleasure.
I had worked my way up to the nape of her neck, and was making a bruised, bleeding path up and down her back with the whip. With each stroke, she seemed to move her beautiful body a bit more exquisitely, with a touch of mounting excitement. I was really pleased; she was much better than she'd ever been!
Now I was all the way in. I stopped whipping her, and laid the whip down. I reached my arms around her, and took hold of her tits, barely able to grasp the bit things in my hands.
She felt the touch of my fingers tweaking her nipples, and her responses increased even more as I tightened my grip on her boobs.
She started to arch her back, and I began to hump her, using my grip on her tits to propel my prick farther inside her anus.
She started to scream like a stuck pig, as if my prick were a knife dismembering her bowels, or something like that. I could feel the throbbing in my balls, my scrotum stuffed full to bursting, my prick as stiff as a steel rod.
Up and down, back and forth, I managed my movements, feeling her sweat, feeling her go into orgasm and gush out her juice on the bed sheets. I should have put a pad down, I suddenly remembered; but it was too late, she was really coming, and I was pounding and pulling away, riding her like a wild mare, ramming and jamming my cock into her asshole like a sword.
She was sweating so much I could barely hold on to her, and I could feel her move from one orgasmic moment of climax into the start of another peak. I was just about ready to come-waiting for the right moment to hit her right on the crest.
I came.
She screamed with a mixed feeling of pleasure and pain as my sperm blasted off in her anus, and she could feel his hot, sticky juice pouring all over her asshole. She made her sphincter muscles work like a cunt, and I could really feel her pulling at my pud, grasping my prick as hard as I was holding onto her breasts.
I kept on firing off my gun and driving deep into her back door, until there was no more juice to fill her with. But, her sphincter muscles wouldn't let me go; like some insatiable cunt, they held fast and firm, and my softening cock was beginning to feel pretty fucking sore from her tight muscular movements.
I dug my fingernails into her breasts, shouting, "Fuck, Claudette, let go of my cock."
She was still wrapped up in her orgasmic bliss, so she didn't seem to really notice me-only my prick-as she kept on coming.
Finally, I managed to yank myself loose.
Carefully, I inspected my cock. Of course.
Besides the sticky sperm, there was something else there. Exactly what I had expected to happen.
Well, she would help me clean it off.
I moved around to her head, and placed my prick right against her lips. Her eyes opened wide at the sight of my instrument, and she began to do what I wanted without me even asking her, as I said, "Lick the shit off my prick-and do a good job!"
My wife looked up at me and said seriously, "If I don't, what will you do?"
"I will punish you for being a naughty, disobedient wife!"
"Well," I said to Mr. G., "what did your wife do?"
"A lousy job, of course."
"What do you think will be the future course of sexual activity with you and your wife now that you've introduced a whip to your activities?"
Robert G. smiled, "Well, Doctor, I've been reading up in some books and the possibilities are limitless!"
CONCLUSION
I never did see Robert G. again after that session. My conclusion must be that he only came to me out of fear of the unknown and when I refused (as rightly I should) to make his decision for him, he made it on his own-and apparently didn't regret it.
CASE HISTORY SIX
SUBJECT: Jonathan E. AGE: Thirty-seven
INTERVIEW ONE
Jonathan E. is a large, stunningly attractive black man in his mid to late thirties. He is quite wealthy, having earned his fortune speculating in the gold market for several years and then investing in real estate.
Mr. E. is over six foot tall, very dark but not quite black in skin tone, and has obviously powerful muscles. His physique is barely concealed under his sharply tailored suits and it seems to be the classic "Y" so much admired in classical sculpture.
I asked him just to talk about some incident of S & M activity in his live and the following is a transcription of what Jonathan E. said:
It's difficult to say where it began, Doctor; but I think the most revealing is something that happened only a few months ago. I was having dinner with a lady friend (white, of course, as are all of my lady friends) and with a young woman whom I only met that evening.
My lady friend's name is Gerri H. and her guest's name is Alice M.
After dinner, which was at my estate in Connecticut, we were lingering over brandy when Gerri told Alice to strip. Alice reddened a bit, but did as Gerri had commanded.
Why? Because, Doctor, women enter my household to be disciplined-of their own free will, mind you-because they want to be relieved of some sort of guilt and my S&M techniques rid them of that guilt.
Alice M. was a magnificent creature!
My gaze was drawn to her belly. The notch was quite extensively haired and with quite a prominent mount she presented a marked gash to me in my fairly low position. Above this centre of my desires her belly was quite flat and firm; my eyes travelled up to the small waist but did not linger there-there were more voluptuous treasures yet with which to regale myself.
Previously I had heard that Alice was magnificently bosomed but I had never been afforded any scrutiny of this useful item-my information had been whispered by Gerri during dinner, and quickly-but during the meal my lovely guest has been dressed in such a fashion that it had not been possible to assess the development of her breasts. Now, however, the opulent globes were prominently displayed for my approval.
Let us say that they were just big breasts-very big, and with fullness to match-but their size was not accompanied by any tendency to sag; rather the splendid globes seemed to be revelling in their new-found freedom from the confining restriction of her corselet. They jutted perkily out and up in arrogant erection, each tipped by a pink nipple-a pink that reminded me of young rosebuds.
Alice let me devour her nudity with my eyes, then clasped her hands behind her head, at the same time arching her belly and tautening the torso muscles so that the gorgeous globes seemed to thrust forward even more. She was superb!
At this point Gerri broke the silence.
"Perhaps you'd like to make a closer inspection, Jonathan," she smiled. I needed no urging; at once I was on my feet. Alice, hands still clasped behind her head, turned away as I stepped forward. My hot fingers played over the planes of her firm back-then quested lower, to that lovely soft bottom. Not too gently my lusting hands clutched at the ripe mounds, squeezing and revelling in the springy ripeness of the flesh, and pulling apart the cheeks to expose the narrow, deep nick, with the crinkly brown hole at its base. She quivered as I thrust one questing digit further forward.
"About face, Alice," commanded Gerri sharply. With cheeks flaming, the tall beauty obeyed!
At once I clasped her large breasts. They were big, all right. Though long-fingered, I could hardly span the full roundness with my hand. The clasp confirmed their firmness. Slowly, I began to squeeze and stroke the gorgeous udders, with quick results.
Alice's breathing quickened and I felt the soft globes begin to harden rapidly; the pink nipples rose up and dug flint-like into my palms. Evidently she was worked up too! Reluctantly I attended elsewhere.
Running my hands down her belly I was struck by its firmness-the naked beauty was certainly no weakling. Good! She would need to be strong! Only one more treasure invited exploration.
Gasping, Alice opened her thighs as I sank down on one knee to kneel before her to delve into her cunt. She lacked nothing-the lips of the vulva were ripe and the clitoris was large. I worked deeper into the warm, moist, trembling body.
She was not a virgin. Her vagina, however, appeared to have had little use. It could have been that she had had no lover in a very long time-if she'd ever had a "lover" at all.
At this moment I didn't care for the possibility-before me stood Alice M. stark naked but for shoes and stockings. And--I had my large, black fingers in her fair, white body. With an effort I turned from her and addressed Gerri.
"Okay, Gerri. I'll take her."
For the next three days, Alice and I gave ourselves over completely to the delights of the flesh and I wasn't disappointed in the woman at all. The promise of her body was fulfilled. She was a willing and, at time, athletic bed partner--and quite inventive in many ways one wouldn't expect from such a quite person. But even during these three days of lusty rutting I began her discipline and her training for her bizarre duties.
"Strip, slave!" was a command I used several times a day, whether I meant for her to have sex with me or not.
Upon hearing this, Alice would quickly toss aside her own clothing and stand naked before me, parting her thighs for my hands. I laughed, saying: "This is one of the privileges and pleasures of the slave owner, Alice-and I intend to take full advantage of it!"
Then, naked, she would have to stand facing the wall rigidly at attention and for increasing longer periods as the days went by standing absolutely still. Finally, I decided to let her attain a more complete idea of what she was in for! She was well aware, of course, that I not only wanted her for my slave, but also for the pleasure of whipping her naked body, the ultimate dominance and thrill of a sadistic master, but it was possible that she had not grasped quite what was in store; from her conversation she was inclined to imagine that it would not be vastly differend from a good hiding at school-worse, no doubt, but only an extension of what she had already experienced in her young life. Poor thing-how little she knew!
One morning I gave her the order to strip and after my customary inspection and handling of her choicest charms I deviated from routine and ordered her to come with me. We left the room where she had disrobed and walked to the floor below, a kind of basement where she had not previously visited. Alice was completely naked except for her shoes, stockings and garters, so that her bared flesh moved entrancingly as she walked.
We entered the room. It was quite large and Alice, naked and beautiful, stared around with a mingling of interest and astonishment, paling a little in apprehension as she began to fathom the purpose of this place.
No instruments of punishment or torture were in sight, but the profusion of chains and manacles which met the eye were indicative enough of a more than usually grim use. Manacles were mounted here and there on the walls, or were set into the floor, while others dangled on chains from the ceiling, while yet more of them along with heavy straps decorated the various oddly-shaped frames and benches set a various parts of the room. In one corner a stout post with shackles stood from floor to ceiling. I let her study this room and its array of toys in silence.
Alice looked at it all and paled even more while her strapping breasts rose and fell more vigorously to her heightened breathing.
"What-uh-what's this place for?" she asked with a slight quaver in her voice.
"It's the whipping room, Alice," I said.
As she swallowed dumbly and trembled with rising fear, I went on: "Here you will be whipped as I wish. Here you will experience the pleasure and sport of your master. Here you will suffer and scream and beg for mercy as I flog your lusty bare flesh."
I paused for effect. "Don't imagine that you will be whipped near to death or frightfully cut up-I am too experienced for that. This sort of fun will not go to the extent of doing you serious harm or injury. But you must be prepared to suffer far more intensively than you have ever imagined. My servants are highly experience in attending whipped girls and will look after you. There is nothing to fear-but it will hurt a great deal!"
You know, Doc, most girls would have turned and run then, naked or not-this little speech of mine is a set piece and tests a girl's true motivations. I waited, almost breathlessly, to see Alice's reaction. But she stood there-quivering and silent-and slowly regained control of herself. I could see she had courage. I took her by the arm to the nearest frame. On top was a curved wooden saddle with a heavy waist strap and at the side were handcuffs. Ankle straps were fitted low down on the sloping planks.
"This is where you will have your first flogging, on your bare bottom," I laughed.
"See how this saddle puts your body in the correct posture-bottom up! As you place your belly on it the pull of the strap arches the torso to the curve of the wood so that the bottom is humped and the breasts jut out, while the legs are spread wide when the ankles are shackled. Thus everything is wide open to the whipper's pleasure." I must admit, I was gloating.
Alice groaned-for she now clearly saw what was to come and was aware of the rigor of the ordeals before her.
"Here," I said pointing to the nearby wall, "is the ladder. Once quite a favorite-but I hardly use it any more. Laid face down or up and with the limbs bent round the rungs, some effective postures can be-devised."
I continued to torture her verbally. "The whipping post is not greatly used any longer. It is well suited to old-fashioned back flogging. Stripped to the waist, with the wrists shackled over the head, the recipient is both nicely positioned and is free to dance vigorously. Of course it can be used in many other ways. A naked woman fastened back to post with her limbs round it displays her breasts and torso to great advantage for the whipper!" I could hear Alice gulp, but she did not interrupt her master!
I next explained the uses and function of the adjustable frame. "It can be adjusted in angle of slope anywhere between horizontal and vertical by means of this crank." I demonstrated the machinery. "And by means of this handle the height of the frame can be varied from fairly high to very low." This I also demonstrated-noting that the naked girl was shivering. "Upright-it serves as a triangle for a formal whipping, face to or face out." It was at this moment, as I had arranged, that we were joined by my servants-Fanny, a youngish black maid, and her partner, Albert, who is white and quite large and muscular. They awaited their orders.
I led my naked slave to an alcove at one end of the whipping room. When the curtains concealing the alcove parted, Alice gasped in a mingling of fear and horror at the sight revealed to her eyes and she involuntarily stepped back.
"On her knees, slave!" I commanded. She obeyed instantly, her eyes rivitted before her.
She was seeing for the first time my collection of whipping instruments: whips, canes, briches, crops, paddles, straps, cat-o'-nine tails, and so on which were all hung on the wall or laid out on narrow tables. I went on with the second part of my rehearsed speech, describing the instruments and their uses and some of their history.
"Flogging instruments, my dear Alice, are in essence of two basic types: those which can cover quite an area of flesh with one stroke, such as straps, briches, cats, paddles and hairbrushes, and those which make one thin stripe such as whips, canes and crops. You will probably be beaten fairly equally by both, though my inclination is usually to the thonged whip. One or two of the first type have the additional feature that they can only be laid to half the body at a time, to one titty or buttock per stroke. Usually if a flogging of thirty lashes is specified, this will mean thirty to each side or sixty strokes in all!" I gazed at my trembling, naked slave girl and grinned.
"Let us consider some of their uses in detail. This strap is best for the fleshier parts so it is laid to tender bottoms and lush thighs, but it is suitable for the belly, too, though for breasts--even such ripe beauties as yours-this smaller and lighter version is more applicable.
"So," I continued slowly, making sure every word was understood, "you are going to have a flogging, slave. Twenty or thirty on that bare rump of yours to inititate you into the joys and sorrows of the rod and to give you the first real taste of a slave's discipline!"
Alice was not surprised. She paled and her breasts heaved but she did not speak or flinch.
"Strip her!" I ordered the servants.
My servants disrobed her completely now. Alice stood still and erect as she waited. Albert reached for the garter belt while Fanny took care of the rest. She was quickly completely naked. Then the servants fasened on the costume I wanted. Black satin corselet from which two straps ended in suspenders to hold up long, dark (black) sheer stockings and black high heeled shoes.
I rose from my seat and approached my almost nude slave, the two servants retiring a pace or two as I did so. Now that Alice was prepared, I intended to inspect her rich body thoroughly and intimately. The examination was brief but extremely searching. I began behind her, examining her neck, ears and long silken hair, then ran my hands down the satiny planes of her bare, strong back, but really to play with her fine bottom. Cupping and squeezing and stroking the plump cheeks and savouring their springness, I eventually pulled them apart to view the little brown hole.
Turning to her front, I began to toy with the opulent breasts, cupping and squeezing them. Pulling and fingering the fruity pink nipples, feeling them begin to go hard at my caress. Alice was a warm girl! Even at this moment she could not prevent-if she wished to do so-the vigour of her young sex rising in response to the intimate caresses. I noticed both Albert and Fanny were smiling; they were evidently enjoying the sight of the naked beauty's submission. Reluctantly I abandoned the rising hillocks. I played lower, feeling and testing the firmness of her powerful torso and the response of her arching belly.
I have given some thought to the tool to be applied for the first whipping. I was eventually to use the long leather whip more than anything. But to inititate her this might be rather overpowering, and I had finally decided upon the crop. So, while the naked slave with her escort stood in the middle of the room, I browsed among my collection and finally made my choice of a long, thin and very supple polo crop before returning to where Alice stood.
My slave had been rehearsed in the ceremonies which preceded and followed chastisement, so with no further speech on my part she began to carry out her pleasing little routine.
Now standing before her, I held out the long crop and Alice sank to her knees, took it in her hand and kissed it two or three times to show her submission to the mastery of the rod and handed it back to me.
"Please flog me soundly for my good, master," she said clearly, with only the slightest tremor in her voice.
"Good," I replied. "Now what do you say after the whipping is over, slave?"
"Thank you, master, for whipping me so well," she answered.
"Don't forget to say it on your knees, kissing the rod again, or you'll suffer extra stripes," I warned. But I was lusting to feel the rod slicing into that fine bottom!
"Stand up, .slave!" I commanded.
My next orders was: "Put my slave over the vaulting horse." The two servants hastened to obey. Taking the naked girl by the arms, they led her over to where the horse stood and faced her to it. Obediently the silent slave laid her bare belly over the top. Passing round, the two each took a gloved wrist and pulled her upper body right down so that they were able to handcuff each wrist low down on the legs of the horse. Then returning to Alice's rear they each took a leg and spread her long limbs to shackle each ankle to the legs of the horse, wide-spread in similar manner to her arms.
Alice was now fully humped and helpless to her fate! I let the servants depart before strolling over to my shackled slave and examining the results of their work.
Poor Alice's butt was high and proud while her upper body hung down, her long tresses hanging loose.
More immediately my concern was with her strapping backside and she was admirably positioned, the lovely soft rounds nicely humped, the long, lovely thighs well parted and her lush, ripe, well-haired sex mound almost obscenly exposed between them. The full lips were slightly parted, rather as the mouth of an expectant young girl; certainly they were to receive a caress or two, but perhaps not of the desired sort! I grinned.
"I'm thinking what to do-and what would be the best initiation to your servitude.
Yes-I have it now-thirty strokes, my slave! Thirty. It will do to show me how well you stand up to being flogged."
I continued after a slight pause. "Are you ready?"
Alice trembled, her bare body glistened with moisture. The room was quite warm, I realized. But I was to learn that with pain and fright, Alice would sweat profusely.
Alice nodded to my question. "I am ready, master," she whispered.
My crop was a beautiful thing-over a yard long and at the whipping end extremely thin-very hard and supple. Care was needed not to carve up the soft flest but within the limitation it was a wicked tool! Alice was going to suffer severely! Without futher ado I positioned myself to the left and measured the length of the swing by laying the crop gently on her bare cheeks.
Her ass cheeks were already squirming in dreaded anticipation. They jumped and clenched instinctively to the touch of the crop.
I laughed. "This is nothing to how your ass will jump when I give a full-arm swing with the crop!"
For a moment I thought I heard a muffled sob. Then my arm rose and the long crop swing up and back-it paused-then slashed down!
"SWISH!" The crop swung through the air and "WHACK" laid a red mark across her bare ass.
Alice moaned!
"SWISH!" Again the crop swung and whacked her beautiful ass. It jumped with a life of its own and Alice sobbed-once-as quietly as possible.
"SWISH!" I laid the crop across her butt again and this elicited a loug cry of anguish.
Four more times, I laid the crop across her butt and waited a fraction of a second-expecting her to plead with me to stop-to stop before I'd begun! But if I thought she was ready to crack I was mistaken as the crop continued to ravage her whelted buttocks.
"SWISHHHHH.....!!" I slashed her middle crack and she was suddently silent.
"SWISHHH....!!" lower and though Alice writhed madly, no soud escaped her lovely lips. She was game-offering a real challenge to my mastery-a sporting contest between whip and will.
Again-"SWISH!"-I was on the ninth stroke and I laid to the neglected top cheeks and was rewarded by a loud gasp! The tenth was to the rounded middles-"SWISH! "and the eleventh-"SWISH!!"-was cut low again-very low-and for the first time the pain wring quite a loud groan from Alice's bitten and bleeding lips.
I determined to finish it, to crack her stubborn resistance, to sound the ringing music of her scream of pain! "SWISH!!" I hit exactly the same spot as the cruel crop whistled home. I was rewarded."
"Aiiieeeiiee!! " she yelled. "OH-OH-OH-OH-GOD!"
"Splendid!" I exclamed, feeling exaulted. "Now, slave, you are beginning to learn what a real flogging is about!" I felt wonderful. "You will now learn how a man is master of a naked woman with whip or rond in hand!!"
After a dozen cuts her bottom was wonderfully wealed, the hard red ridges covereing the full cheeks, though there was as yet pleant of unmarked skin. The nates danced, squirmed, clenched and shivered continously now as the fiery blaze was stoked high and higher.
But apart from some darkening of the flesh where the ends were impinging around the curve of the right cheek. The gorgeous sufferer sweated heavily, her writhing form gleamed wetly and she sobbed and gasped in pain!!
I had triumphed and I knew it!
Jonathan E. was unable to continue his story at this point as we were out of time. He agreed, however, to return in a week and continue his story.
INTERVIEW TWO
Upon his return the following week, Johathan E. continued relating the story he'd begun the previous session-his degradation and enslavement of Alice M.
I had had the desire to whip Alice's magnificent breasts, but I had held off until she had been fully broken in to her servitude and that the idea of such a flogging was not so unfamiliar and frightening as it would have been at the beginning.
But I had decided that she was now wedded to the lash and that her breasts and belly could well be seared by the whip on the ocassion of her next flogging and I was looking forward to administering this treat with unusual pleasure and satisfaction.
Her regular whipping was indeed due in a few days, but an incident occurred that both hastened her punishment and gave me an excuse to be unusually severe. We had gone into town one morning and Alice was dressed in a very sexy dress. I was not quite happy on this ocassion--thought that was a manufactured emotion to some extent. In a way I was quite proud.
Alice's dress showed off her wonderful figure to good advantage, but what really drew everyone's eyes was the extreme liveliness of her ripe body-the tossing of her breasts and the wobble of her bottom were conspicious in the strong light through the plain, thin material of her dress. She was obviously wearing no bra and no panties!
But, if this were the case, she was in trouble for I was quite strict on this point of dress. We continued in town until lunch and then drove quickly back to my mansion. Once inside Alice was about to go to her room with her packages.
My command rang out: "Strip, slave!"
She gasped, turned to face me, turning quite pale. She put down herparcels and stood with fluttering hands for a moment before tremblingly beginning to unfasten her dress. A moment later she stood before me, quivering, and she was stark naked. She wasn't even wearing a girdle! I was furious, but controlled myself.
"Well, slave?" I demanded.
Alice was not easily frightened, as you know by now, but she was speechless. She knew she was in for it!
I continued. "Explain this horrible flaunting of your body in public-before other men!"
Eventually she stammered out an answer, "It-was-hot."
"And how hot will the lash be?!" She hung her head and shivered as I continued: "Take you dress and packages and go fetch Fanny. At once!"
I waited but a minute for Alice to reapear with Fanny. "Fanny, Alice is to have her first whipping on her breasts. She has been naughty and disobedient. It will be a severe whipping. Have her prepared in one hour!"
In exactly one hour Fanny led Alice to me. Alice was still naked save for boots and gloves. Her perfect body was bathed and groomed and her pale face and quivering figure were highly appropriate.
"March to the whipping room," I commanded.
Alice stood in the whipping room while I selected the whip. She knew the one-to it she had already danced and more recently it had painfully seared her bare back. Long, light and pliant and formed of finely plaited leather, it suited all parts-a true universal whip.
Alice groaned in horror at the sight of it. But she was disciplined enough to sink to her knees and utter the formal phrase after kissing the instrument: "Please whip me well, master!"
I ordered Alice to be put on the back-rest. My naked beauty was set against the wall with her back to the spring-loaded flap and the two servants raised her arms up and back to handcuff her wrists to the shackles set in the wall.
Each then took a leg and drew it out and back so that Alice was spread-eagled to the wall. The result was that she was cross-spread, facing down, while the slope of the back-rest and its push forward archer her upper torso upwards and forwards very nicely.
Alice's beautiful breasts, which were to bear the brunt of the whipping, were most prominently displayed! Fanny and Albert were not yet finished, however. They began to rub Alice's torso with an astringent lotion, to tone up the sensitivity of her skin-it's a refinement that I had not expected and which they had apparently concocted between them.
Alice was silent and wide-eyed during the preparations. At last the servants finished and stood back. Very reluctantly, I'm sure, they departed, leaving Alice to my sadistic pleasure!
Whip in hand I took my position, eagerly ravishing her vuluptous charms with my eyes. Her straining torso swelled and trembled with imminent anguish. Alice's breathing was harsh and irregular; she realized that she was in for an unusually painful punishment!
"CRACKKK-!!" Across the middle of her belly leaped the familiar thin, red weal. She gasped loudly and strained against the shackles. After a moment she relaxed, navel twitching to the burning throb of the lash.
"CRACKKK-!!" Right down to the tops of her thighs I wielded the thin cutter!
Again: "CRACKKK-!!" Across her torso again just above the belly-button and from hip to hip! And then:
"CRACKKK-!!" I hit low on her navel, topping the love-moss and with the lash tip digging into her groin.
She grunted!
I paused, the whip dangling from my hand, and looked at my work. I had wealed her lovely body deliberately everywhere but her breasts. This kept her fearful and in suspense. But a half dozen lashes had warmed her up and it was the moment-NOW!
"CRACK!" The whip flew out across the tops of her proudly jutting mounds-burning to their first kiss of leather! Alice leaped in her shackles to her limit of movement. A long, low, gasping wail had been wrung from her lips. After a moment, she relaxed and her shuddering eased. THEN:
"CRACK!" The whip bit a little lower, above the pink nipples while Alice jerked madly, writing and twitching her head back and forth.
"How do you like it, slave?" I grinned.
"CRACK!" I aimed upward and raked the undersides so that mounds jumped and jiggled. Alice gave a meowing whimper. She was crying and could not answer my question.
"I demand you answer me!"
"CARCK!" I almost hit the same spot! Alice's head revolved on her shapely neck in pain! Again, I slashed and hit the center of her breasts-sizzling the thong-one nipple was actually lashed!! How she halted her screech of agony I couldn't figure out!
"And now, my slave, how is it. Worse or no worse than back and bottom?"
Finally she cried and couldn't answer.
Even though she had had enough, I knew this was no time to let up or start going easy on her.
"CRACK!" Alice gave a slight squeal as I lashed her heaving belly. My savage upward lash, next to her erect breasts made them jump-and it worked.
"AAAAARRRGHHHHH-MY BREASTS!!!! OH! OH!" she cried out in terror.
My whipped slave's pent-up agony burst out in a shriek that rang through the whipping-room. I celebrated my belated triumph by undercutting her for the first time.
"CRACK!!" I laid full between her parted, straining thighs the lash as it cruelly ravaged her tender, agitated body.
"CRACCCKKK!" The second venomous thong made three consecutive, measured strokes to her heaving butt, top, bottom and middle cutters each neatly placed. Alice thrashed and stamped in her shackles while her powerful young voice made the welkin ring.
"CRACKKKK!!!" Again to her arching tummy.
"CRACCCKK!!!" I hit lower this time across the taut, strong belly which had been neglected of late.
This made a couple of dozen lashes and I gave her a much appreciated rest and a rest for me too. I dropped the whip on the floor and began to undress, sitting on the nearby whipping-bench to remove my shoes and socks and then tossing off my shirt and slacks.
As when using the quirt of the previous occasion, I had the idea that I might not be able to restrain myself until the end. Then I examined Alice. She was moaning and sobbing bitterly and in the warm whipping-room she was sweating profusely, her bared body was quite wet and litle trickles of moisture ran down her belly and thighs. She shivered in pain, breath coming in great gasps, yet she looked good for plenty more. Satisfied on that account, I searched for damage.
Her belly had a thin bleed on the left side, while the right breast showed a big blister under the nipple where several lashes had crossed and one or two more of the like showed on it's twin. There were a number of abrasions from the last tips, but none so marked as to be bleeding freely.
I gave her a cooling draught of brandy and champagne, both to relieve her parched lips and to act as a fortifier just in case I wanted her strong again later for another round. In fact, I felt like going at it again that minute and decided she could stand a bit more to help whip her into submission.
"CRACCKK!" Alice screamed unrestrainedly now as I slashed her treasure chest once more on resuming the merry work. This time one of the large blisters burst on her left breast and the spraying blood shattered the wealed globe and trickled redly down her belly.
"CRACCKK!" This time I got her low on her navel, with the lash-end nicking the top of her left thigh to spring a thin red rill.
Then three quick slashes on those titties again. Gosh! They looked sore now! Alice yelled dementedly. Still, however, her voice was strong; the draught had maintained her power to withstand this terrible torture she was undergoing.
"CRACCKK!" I lashed to the breasts yet another time and this time I popped the big blister under the right nipple. It was quite a large one and the crimson splashes ran and dappled her heaving, sweaty torso. It was a lash that must have hurt particularly, too, for Alice heaved back so violently that the back-rest was nearly flattened to the wall.
I was really ready now. I tore off my pants and my prick immediately rose to the occasion. It was hard and firm, but I didn't need that to tell me how excited I was.
Whip cast aside, I clasped her in my arms, pressing my naked body on to her sweet, whipped, hot flesh, driving into her vitals. My chest against her bleeding breasts, my belly slapped against hers, ramming in as quickly as possible before I shot. Sure enough, I was barely in when I engulfed her sex in a surge of sticky sperm.
Gasping I hauled myself off and picked up my whip again.
Now I was getting more and more turned on. Seeing Alice in this condition was just what I liked best. I felt my prick starting to throb with emotion and it felt like I would have a hard time controlling myself and hoped I would not come all of a sudden in front of her. I wanted to save that delightful part for later in the game.
What Alice in her pain must have thought in the next few tortured minutes I cannot say, except that she must have imagined that she was in the hands of a demon. As naked as herself, I whipped her, my organs smeared with blood and spunk. It must have been a Satanic sight!
Naked and hot, I jumped forward and released her, as she slumped weakly to her knees, hands pawing at her ravaged beauties. I seized a strap and bound her wrists at her back.
Perhaps she expected to suck me off, but apart from grasping her hair and rubbing her tear-wet face against my heated and smeared organs, I was for once not interested. I had fresh lusts to satisfy on this memorable occasion!
Taking her whipped breasts in my hands, careless of their raw, anguished bloodiness and her yells of pain, I pushed them together over my rampant penis. While she shuddered at this assault, I rubbed my hot monster between her paps until my sticky, hot surge brought the relief I was looking for!
Weakly now I stepped back from my thrashed slave. Alice presented a pitiable sight with her pain-wracked and tear-streaked face and her wealed and thrashed torso now smeared with a mixture of blood, sweat and sperm. She looked all in, the complete picture of the utterly mastered and punished slave.
Quickly now I pressed the bell. The servants must have been waiting outside, for they were through the door and to her immediately. They had taken the precaution of having with them the trolley that they had used before. They gently assisted the sobbing girl on to it and she lay moaning and writhing as they wheeled her naked body from the whipping-room.
It was over! I had given Alice her best and most volumptuous whipping so far. The films and sound-track came out perfectly, too!
Now that Alice had received such a severe torso whipping to culminate her initiatory period as my slave, I resolved to go easy with her for a while. The vigorous and cruel lashing of her splendid breasts had meant that every portion of her anatomy between neck and knees had been flogged both back and front.
At last she had endured the full range of floggings and had borne them all exceptionally well, considering her ravaged condition.
As a matter of future policy, I intended to give her a torso-whipping every second or third time, with her bottom taking the rest. Purely punitive floggings I only reserved for some misdemeanor that merited the lash and which would be applied usually to her fine bare back and across her buttocks.
In the meantime, as the beauty recoverd from her ordeal, I decided to reward her a little and give her an easy time for several weeks. Pursuant to this I called her in one evening after dinner, a few days after she had returned to duty. Surveying her splendid naked torso, I was pleased to see that the industry of the two servants had substantially reduced the inflicted havoc of the whip; the basic pattern of welts was still visible but fading.
"Alice my dear," I smiled. "You have suffered my pleasure so much and endured it so well that I think I really must show my appreciation in some way."
My naked slave brightened a little-she had been subdued since her last flogging.
"The regular flogging to mark your sixth month of service in a week's time, as you will be aware," I said, "is going to be commuted as a reward for your willingness and bravery."
"Thank you, master," she said warmly with a faint look of delight on her face.
Then, after a while I decided she was about due again to be brought into line so one night shortly after, I called her in.
"You're next whipping, slave," I said formally.
Alice immediately went down on her knees to hear me pronounce her fate-at least the fate of her backside, or something.
"You will be flogged in the morning, Alice," was my declaration. "Your fine bottom can bear the brunt again and I have in mind a taste of the strap for the cheeks."
"Yes, master," she said, from her knees.
"Twenty-five strokes of the short strap on each soft cheek, then," I went on, "the servants will prepare you as usual and shoes and stockings will do."
"Yes, master," answered my slave submissively.
Alice remained on her knees until I dismissed her, upon which she departed. Later, when she was with me I playfully squeezed her ripe haunches.
"It seems quite a while since I tanned those properly, doesn't it?" I chuckled. "I hope I haven't lost the knack. However, twenty-five whacks on each of these should redden them up very nicely, I should think."
Alice smiled a little and seemed to greet the sentence of flogging with what you might even call enthusiasm, but she made herself seem mysterious when she did this. Could it be she was actually digging it much more than I had thought?
The next morning at the appropriate time, Fanny and Albert brought Alice in for my inspection and approval. Stripped, bathed and groomed, my slave presented her usually immaculate and peerless self, towering over the two servants in her high hells, her long legs clad in the sheer hose with the stockings held up in the usual manner by the thin black garters.
She looked wonderfully fit.
I made my customary detailed and intimate inspection of her person, scrutinizing her back and arms, the ripeness of her thighs, hips and bottom, the springy fullness and erection of her wonderful breasts and the hard flatness of her taut belly.
Then between her legs, I began to delve and finger deep into her warm slit, nipping the pubes, the clitoris and tickling around her love-nest in general before ceasing my possesive attentions.
Fanny and Albert watched with amusement. This was one little ceremony that always tickled them.
I announced my satisfaction with the result of the intimate examination of my slave. Alice stepped back to her position between the two servants.
"Take her to the whipping-room," came my inevitable and now familiar command.
I flogged her silly that day. As she hung naked from the iron bracelets, my whip lashed time and time again across her blood-stained but luscious body. I grew more and more tantalized. It gave me great pleasure to think this captive was all mine and that I could have complete control over her destiny.
The harder I whipped the more she screamed, but this time I definately noticed that her screams were different; they may have been louder and more savage, but I could not deny that they were mixed with pleasure. A deep pleasure that comes only from the most basic delights of sexual pleasure. My hunch was right-my beautiful slave was actually being turned on as much as I was. Yes, it was true, the harder I pummeled her, the more she found herself in the throes of ecstasy.
Well, Doctor, everything seemed fine, except that Alice began to dig it too much. I mean, I was happy she found the same enjoyment from it that I did, but she began begging for more and more. Often I was the one who was too tired to continue the floggings-can you imagine that?
After I freed her the last time I whipped her, she threw herself at my feet and began kissing them passionately. I could not seem to get her to stop. She said she would do anything I asked and that I must punish her severely if I did not. She went on and on about how she liked to be disciplined by me and felt the hot lashes of my whip help to keep her in line.
Later she confessed she could no longer conceive of enjoying any other form of sex, and she went on to tell me that she only wanted it from me.
I must say I never expected this-I was very surprised.
To think she was so dependent on me really bothered me, Doctor.
It really got to be a problem for she was truly in love with me and now I cannot get rid of her. So now my problem is that I feel guilty about turning her on to this new form of pleasure, in addition to making her fall so much in love with me. What should I do, Doc?"
CONCLUSION
The problem of Jonathan E. was not that serious and it could have been predicted, after all, that a situation like this might develop. Many people can become enthralled with this kind of sexual fulfillment and it is natural that Alice as the "slave" might fall deeply in love with her "master."
The real problem was actually not Jonathan's anymore. He seemed to have a healthy attitude about his form of sexual pleasure, but Alice worried me. I decided to have her come in for consultations to make sure she had an attitude that would give her the maximum good feelings about herself and her new-found sexual activities without relying soley on Jonathan.
GENERAL CONCLUSION
No judgements-moral or otherwise-can be made here. As you will have noticed no one in this volume sought counsel from me for the purpose of being "cured."
Everyone of the subjects entered into sadomasochistic relationships willingly. Everone of the subjects liked what they were doing and had no desire to change their lives in that respect.
Sadomasochism is practiced high and low : from Madison Avenue to brothels. Like any minority, the S & M crowd is clannish due to unreasonable sexual laws which prohibit almost every form of sexual expression one would be able to invent (if there is anything left to invent!)
Like any clan, they have their rules (rigid and authoritarian, of course) and the biggest rule is : never harm anyone permanently, never leave a scar that won't heal without trace. In a case not included here, a patient said: "It's an exercise in complete trust, you know. The relationship between the partners in an S & M scene must be established on complete trust or you just don't get involved, baby."
But that is the basic criteria for any sexual relationship. What is done between consenting adults in private is no one's business.
As with so many sexual expressions, sadomasochism can not be judged by the layman-or by the professional, for that matter-as there has been no proper research into the field. Books about S&M are limited in number and I only hope that this volume is of help to hose who wish to know more about the subject. And what better way then from the people who are devotees of the Marques de Sade's school of thought?
