"You probably what to know if what you read in the papers is true, if my mother came over one day and found me chained up in the cellar and if the marks on my body were for real ... and all the other gory details. Well, it's true alright, only there's a hell of a lot more, Doctor, that I didn't tell anybody. Like the night he took a whip to my legs, and the time he used a cigarette on my ankle, and, oh, yeah, what about how he attached a ... well, I better start from the beginning, way back from our honeymoon, cause, I even then Jim was a little odd, only I didn't notice it, at least not right away ...
"We were married in the Church St. Mary, and a black limousine was waiting for us as we came running through that shower of rice, down the church steps. All of my girl friends from high school told me that I looked so pretty that they wanted to cry. Anyhow, we dashed into the car and climbed into the back seat. Jim had arranged for everything, even the chauffeur. I had no idea where I was going. Through the side window of the car I could see my friends waving goodbye from the church steps, all of them smiling and crying with joy for me. That was probably the last happy thing that ever happened to me.
"Right from the beginning, even in that car on the way to the airport, Jim took to working his hands on my body in some crazed manner. It was nice at first, but it wasn't the way a normal man does such things. He rubbed between my legs with one hand, worked up under my wedding gown and got his fingers going against my bridal panties. He stroked up and down on what he knew was my cunt. I asked him if we shouldn't wait until we were alone, on account of the driver and all, and he said in my ear in a whisper that I shouldn't worry about anything. He worked his fingers close to my lips, even through the silk panties, and I began to worry that my new husband was crazy or something. After all, we had only just left the church, and we weren't even alone, but his hand was sliding up and down and making my loins hot and sweaty under my bridal gown. I knew that I must have looked like a barber shop pole in that white dress with my bright red blush, but there wasn't much of anything I could do about it. Jim just kept rubbing and fondling me in every way you can think of in order to keep me getting hot and stimulated.
"Some of the time he rubbed on my thighs and some of the time he used his other hand to make me hot around the chest. He knew just about every way imaginable to get my titties up and hot, and the way he squeezed my mammaries, well, it was very, very exciting, even in that backseat. Before we arrived at the airport I was as hot and flushed as I could possibly be. When the chauffeur came around and opened up my side of the car, I was so disheveled and embarrassed that I didn't even want to get out of the car. My bridal gown was nearly shredded and my lips were smudged with my own makeup. I was blushing all over. Jim kept pushing me and making me get out and all. I didn't know what to do. I suddenly thought, just for an instant, that I had married a madman. I let this sexual psychopath lead me to the waiting Lear jet airplane.
"Inside the plane, for just a moment or two, I thought things were going to be considerably nicer. After all, I was surrounded by plush carpeting and nice overstuffed airplane chairs. And for one thing, Jim and I were alone there. This time the 'chauffeur', the pilot, was up front in his own little room and couldn't see anything at all.
"The plane took off with a big noise, but once we were up in the air the noise died down and I was alone, flying with my new husband to I did not know where. I asked him as the plane banked into what seemed some new direction where we were going. He just shook his head, undid his seat belt, and came over in front of me. He reached down to where my seat belt buckled and undid the latch. Then he slid his fingers down between my legs again, this time not hesitating to rip my wedding dress completely off my body. He took it away from my hips in one pull. I screamed, but there was no one there to answer my chilled and frightened screeches. After all, we must have been easily ten thousand feet up in the air and moving at about five hundred miles an hour. And my husband was attacking me, working his fingers up and down on my thighs and around my hips.
"Well, he pulled me up out of the seat and tossed me like a sack of potatoes down on the aisle. I was all akimbo and off balance. I looked right and left and there was just nowhere to go, nothing to do. I looked up at Jim. He was pulling off his belt, undoing the buckle and getting his bridal suit off. I asked him if he didn't want to wait until we got to the hotel and he threw his head back and laughed. I'll never forget that laugh, Doctor, and the spooky way that I knew right then that I was in for some very strange sex. I understood then that my new husband had never intended really to do anything else except sexually assault me. I wondered if I was going to even live through that plane flight.
"When Jim finished undressing he got down on his hands and knees. His joint was bobbing up and down and flopping left and right between his thighs, rubbing along his loins. He came crawling toward me, and I tried to get up and get my balance, but I couldn't. I think the jet was going through some sort of tumultuous weather. Anyhow, what I next felt might have been a metal claw, but I knew it was Jim's hand clasping hold of my ankle. I turned around and he flipped me onto my back. He said that he was going to fuck me on the floor of the airplane, that it was going to hurt a bit, but not nearly so much as the screw-job I would get when we landed on the ground. Then he started pulling off my bridal gown. He just tore it away from my body. I screamed and complained and all, but there wasn't anything I could do to make him stop attacking me that way. I wanted to get up and run, but I couldn't. There was no place to go. I wanted to hurt him, but I couldn't do that because I knew it meant he would hurt me back fivefolds over. I wanted to disappear and ...
"He took to stroking my chest first. As soon as he had my clothes off that's what he went for. My titties were so vulnerable. I couldn't believe what he did to me. He left hickies everywhere because of his sucking and licking. I wouldn't have minded it if he hadn't marked me, but both of my breasts, all of that soft creamy flesh, was marked with red welts. He had sucked it all into hickies and black-and-blue bruises. My nipples, by the time he finished rubbing his lips and his tongue up and down on them, well, they were all sore and tired. They'd never been like that before, Doctor. Never. They were always little cherry buds that stuck right up like proud little soldiers. He licked them so much that they wilted.
"He rubbed his face down along my tanned belly. I had gone out and spent hours on the beach just so that my honeymoon with Jim would be especially nice. Think of all the boys I had turned down just for him, just by saying, 'No, I'm sorry, I'm getting married next week,' and I mean there were a lot of them who saw me in my two piece bathing suit, saw my nice long legs and big full chest and they came up to me and wanted to know about talking or a date and stuff, and I had just told them outright, 'No, I'm getting married.' Boy, did I ever feel dumb as I watched Jim licking and kissing my stomach and assaulting me in that airplane.
"He got down between my legs and he did something nice for me. He started gnawing on my clitoris, licking it with his tongue and sucking it with his lips. He really knew how to do that, too. He got his tongue going fast, jetting up and down along my two open twat lips. (He was holding my legs spread with his two big hands.) He got that mouth muscle rubbing pretty hard in there, so much so that I couldn't help but get turned on, even though I didn't particularly like the way Jim was going about doing it to me. My clit ooze began to flowing, and my legs were all chilled and the inside of my twat was boiling. I wondered how I could possibly get hot for this man. He had just attacked me and he was treating me brutally, even though he was supposed to be my nice kind husband, and now I was getting hot because he was eating me out so nicely. Maybe, I figured just then, he had decided to be nice after all. Maybe, I hoped, I had been wrong about him, and now he was going to be nice to me always, and he had just been pre- tending to be nasty before. I was wondering if the way he was licking me out meant that he really did like me and that he felt bad about the way he had treated me earlier. I gave way to the liquid passion I was feeling between my labia and began to rock my crater back and forth in his face.
"Jim smiled when I did that. He looked up at me and smiled. He saw the look of heated and feverish passion on my lips, I guess, and for some reason he thought it was worth a smile. Then he went back to digging inside my cunt tube with that long slippery tongue of his. He rubbed the wet mouth muscle sideways inside my hole. Jesus, I was getting so hot, despite myself, and wanting it more and more. I was beginning to crank my legs and my hips up and down against his face. I wanted to feel that long luscious dong-like tongue of his clanking inside my body. 'More,' I hollered at him. 'Give me more of that mouth organ.'
"He licked and sucked as if he was interested in seeing that his new wife got some pleasure. I was beginning to trust him again, even though my titties were still black-and-blue, even though my tattered wedding dress, if I cared to look in that direction, was piled in a heap only inches from my head. Even though Jim had assaulted me and ravished my body, and even though he hadn't done anything kind for me since the minute I said those two little words, 'I do', now that he was eating out my pussy, rubbing his tongue up and down inside my wet slippery twat lips, now I was willing to forgive him. I couldn't believe myself.
"There I was on the floor of that airplane, getting carried off to God only knows where, and my new husband was rubbing his nose in my hole and I was yelling at him, 'Oh, God, Jim, more! Please, I love it, more!" And yet somehow I knew that we were headed for disaster, that I was not going to be getting a great deal more pleasure from Jim, that this oral fuck in my cunt was some kind of preparation, some kind of warm up for a slightly more devilish kind of pleasure. I wondered as he continued to lick at my clitoris what he had in mind for me.
"Soon I found out. But first Jim had me roll over. He did something to my butt that no man has ever done before, Doctor. I'm even a little afraid to tell you what it was, it's so nasty and all. But I want you to know everything so that you can make an evaluation. He turned me over on my belly and pushed his tongue down between my two creamy buttocks. He filled my asshole with his mouth muscle. Do you believe it? Yes, he went sliding it right on inside my anus. I couldn't understand how he could treat me so nasty and then turn me over and do something to my bunghole that felt so God damn good! It was amazing to feel that long slippery worm muscle of his going sliding down inside my ass. It was like a big long snake had attacked my insides, only instead of killing me with his fangs and his poison, he was making me hotter and lustier than ever. I loved it, loved the feel of that reaming mouth organ of his rubbing inside my bunghole. "But then I found out what it was in preparation for. Before I could even ask Jim why he was going up and down like that with his tongue, the next thing I felt was his cock. I didn't know at first what he had in his demented mind, but I should have been able to predict it easily enough. He took that big hearty cock muscle of his and placed it like sandwich meat between my slippery buttocks. He just laid it right down in there, and I could hear him chortling in a whisper in my ear, and he said: 'It's better than being whipped, isn't it, Lilly? Or would you rather I got out the leather?'
"I didn't know what he meant, Doctor. I was so scared. I have met a lot if boys in my time, and none of them ever treated me that way, with their cock rubbing at my buns. I was frightened and didn't know what to do. I asked Jim what he meant by that comment about the leather, but he said that I was acting like a fool, that I really did know for real, what he meant, and that he was surprised that I hadn't brought it up instead of him. I tried to wiggle away from the pressure of his hog which was getting stiffer and harder between my two cheeks. It was impossible. He had me pretty tight. His cock laid like a wiener in my crotch there, and his hand was around my waist. His other hand was up around my titties where he was feeling me up. I didn't know that my new husband knew so much about sex and about that kind of sex in particular.
"Pretty soon he was getting the head of that big meat of his into place in my asshole. I screamed at him that he was going to kill me that way, and he said softly back to me that he didn't give a damn if I lived through it or not. I was pretty damn scared then, Doctor. There I was on a jet going I didn't know where and this man, who was supposed to be my nice young husband, was attacking my asshole. I couldn't believe it.
"But it was happening alright. My anus is the best witness of that. He took his mushroom head and speared me with it. My sphincter and my anus were just about bust open. He didn't stop when he hit my bowels, either. He just kept going. He held me by the nape of the neck when I screamed. His cock was tacking me down so hard that I thought I would start hemorrhaging. It was God-awful, Doctor. I had never been stroked that way, and I couldn't stand the pressure of it.
"After that, when he had had his fill of my back cave, he yanked his rod out of there. I thought for sure that I was in luck. I should have known better. I thought everything was over. I thought that there wasn't going to be anymore of that torture and all. But little did I know. He rolled me over and told me that he wanted his cock cleaned. I did that. I licked it off because I thought that it was all over now, all done. He took to rubbing his penis up and down, back and forth on my face. I didn't know whether to lick or what. He was treating me like a dog. But when I stopped rubbing his muscle with my tongue he told me that I had better shape up or he would hit me. I didn't want to be hit, but I knew, even then, that I was going to suffer some more, because he wasn't done treating me badly. I knew that nothing I did for him would satisfy him completely. He was bound to mistreat me, just like some men are bound to be good lovers ...
"He made me lick off that big mushroom cock head.
He made me swallow down as much of it as possible. I licked off the head and rolled my mouth muscle up and down on the shaft. There were tears in my eyes as I blew my new demon husband, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get that hog of his as far down my throat as possible. And he did, too. He rubbed it all the way into my tonsils, against my uvula, and he wouldn't let me come up for air except when he wanted me to. I was becoming some sort of sexual slave and I had only been married for about two hours.
"Jesus, Doctor, I thought that suck off would never end. I thought he would suffocate me that way. It was such a big red hot hog, and it was jamming off my wind-pipe. Some of the time I wasn't really licking. I was just trying to catch my breath. I held onto the shaft of that thing and kept rubbing the head in and out of my mouth. I figured that I could give him pleasure and keep him from giving me pain. That way I wouldn't be tortured quite so much as he had planned. If I could keep him satisfied with a blow-job until we landed, then maybe I could avoid whatever it was he had in his crazed mind to do with the leather ...
"But it was no good. Before I had even finished getting his hog completely cleansed he whispered down to me that he was going to have to get the leather out. He told me to cooperate and everything would be alright. I said that I didn't want to be tied up and that I didn't want to be hurt. Before I could say anything else he slapped me across the face. He hauled back with his hand and smacked me so hard that I thought my jaw was broken. I went sliding across the cabin floor looking for my balance and something to hold onto. But there wasn't anything. Before I could even think again, about where I was and about what was happening to me, I felt something getting tight around my wrists. It was a leather throng, and it was cutting into my flesh above my hands. I felt my circulation buzzing, like needles, but I couldn't seem to get my bearings. I looked up for a moment and it was Jim, squatting behind me, tying my wrists behind my back, and I moaned at him, 'Jim, Jim, please darling, won't you please ... ' He wouldn't listen to me. I felt something smash down on my face and when I came to again I was being walked across a private runway.
"He had draped some sort of black cape over my shoulders, but underneath that I was nude. My wrists were tied behind my back and my ankles, which had also been tied behind my back-like a cow for branding-were feeling the relief of having been released. But I was being led, one arm in the hand of the pilot, one arm in Jim's hand, from the plane to I did not know where. I couldn't understand it. One minute I was getting married in my hometown to a young wealthy man I had known for almost a year, and the next, that same fellow was taking me on a devil's tour of some formerly unknown sexual world. It was the most frightening thing that ever happened to me, and I would have given just about anything to have avoided it.
"Jim and I climbed into a jeep at the end of the runway. I had no clothes of my own, no personal belongings. A single handcuff was attached to my ankle and the other side of that pair of bracelets was clipped to the floor of the backseat of the jeep. Jim drove.
"We went through some sort of strange jungle type country, a winding road and circuitous pathway, and finally, we arrived in front of what looked like a deserted mansion. A single black servant greeted us at the front door and took Jim's bag. He took me by the leather throng attached around my wrists and pushed and pulled me up and down stairs and a corridor which led to an empty room. He shoved me down inside onto my knees, on a hardwood floor, and there I stayed for I don't know how long.
"Perhaps it was an hour, or maybe it was two days, but I lost track of myself and my hurt. I was numbed and unable to tell anything of where I was or how it had come to pass that I was getting such a terrible treatment from my new husband. I don't know when exactly, but I was half-asleep as the door to that cell opened. Someone, perhaps it was Jim, came into the room and took the black cape off my body. That left me nude and cold, tied at the wrists behind my back. A moment later that same person crouched in the dark, at my feet, and put a pair of handcuffs on my ankles. I started to scream but it was like a nightmare when one attempts to yell and you even think that you are screaming aloud but you are not. It was terribly frightening.
"I felt my titties getting hot and stimulated. That was the second time when, in that little room, I woke up. Jim was bent over my body and he had his tongue sliding around on my breasts. I was getting hot from that. That's what woke me up. I started to ask something, to demand to know, most likely, what I was doing there, why I was getting such brutal treatment from him, my husband, of all people. But before I could even say two words, he smacked me across the face. The next thing I knew I was laced into some sort of wood device.
"Doctor, I don't know how to describe it. It was some kind of wrack. It pulled my legs open and it spread my arms above my head. My chest was stretched by this thing, just as much as was my pussy. I couldn't figure out where I was. I was just coming to on this wooden device. I tried to lift my neck, to look around, but I couldn't. I was tied down, clasped and clamped down at my neck, as well as at my feet and my ankles. I wondered if I was in the same place as before, the deserted mansion, or if I had been transported in an unconscious state to some other place. In either case, I was sure I was going to die. I was sure a dozen or more men were going to come into that room, stuff my captured beaver, and then slit my throat.
"In one sense, Doctor, I was right. A single man,, behaving as though he were like a dozen, came into that room and he attacked me. It was Jim. I could see him when he stood close to my face with his naked boner laying along his leg. He looked down at me and asked if I enjoyed being framed on my honeymoon. He called that wood stretcher device a frame. I told him I didn't like it at all. He just laughed and came around the front where he mounted me.
"I could feel his boner sliding in and out of my cunt. I was made to be hot by that thing even though I had no choice in it. I was tied down, you see, to the stretching device and made so captive that I couldn't possibly move to respond to any of the sex being given me. My husband's thick mushroom hog was the only part of his body which touched me. I don't know how he did it, but that was the only place where contact was made. I could neither see his body nor feel it, as I said, except where his prick slid in and out of my twat.
"The first time was a turn on, I have to admit. Isn't it every girl's fantasy to be tied down, roped in place with leather and stretched and then attacked until she's made to have an orgasm? Well, that's what it was for me the first time that Jim did that to me. He stuffed me long and hard, that thick meat going into me like a spear. He branded the inside of my wet pussy hole, and there's no way in the world that I would deny that I was having a good time-the first round, that is.
"But he didn't stop there. He flicked some switch and over I went, like a big stiff butterfly, and now, instead of my twat being vulnerable, it was my asshole. The wood pieces holding my legs, they spread a bit more. A mechanical clasp came down from either side and spread around each of my two buttocks. Then it pulled my feathery cheeks back and open, kept my ass hole crotch open while Jim managed to get yet another boner with which to penetrate my back tube. He stepped forward and jabbed me with it, stuffed me harder than ever. I could feel that big mushroom tip pioneering out all sorts of new anal territory. It was really shitty of him to do that without letting me be at all free to enjoy it in any way. And when he was done, when he had screwed up the inside of my asshole and filled it full of his hot jism, then he stroked out and laughed a bit more. Finally, the machine let my ass cheeks go flopping, released its hold on my buns, and I was twisted over again, turned upright.
"This time Jim waited a while, but not so long that I was feeling good again. He came into my pie with another big hard-on. I could feel that rubbery pipe getting hotter faster than ever. He was going to shoot off, I knew, even without stroking for more than a minute. He was so hot, probably just from seeing me tied up that way, that he was getting erections without even trying. I could feel his huge ridged boner rubbing inside my hole, rubbing and jabbing and getting ready to shoot off. I screamed at him but all I got back was a chortle and a laugh. Then, of course, he popped off, like a bicentennial fire cracker, and flooded my insides with hot jism. I wondered when it would all stop.
"A moment later I heard some electric buzzing. It was a steady whirring sound and I didn't know what could possibly make such a noise. As you must know just from looking at me, Doctor, I'm only eighteen years old, and I haven't had much experience in the sexual world. Except of course for what Jim was so happy to demonstrate on my body in those few days during which I was married to him. Anyhow, I didn't know what the thing was called that he was stuffing into my twat. It was electric, I knew, and it was vibrating in a way that a real cock could not. Since then I have been told that I was fucked with an electric or battery-operated dildo.
"I don't have to tell you how good it felt. It was terrific. Even though I was tied to that device I couldn't help but enjoy that steady rubbing between my twat's labia. But soon it became too much. I yelled at Jim to stop, that he was killing me with that clit rubber of his. But he wouldn't stop. He just kept working that thing up and down next to my inside rudder. It was going to destroy me or something. I knew it was going to wipe me out. I started-yelling at the top of my lungs. I tried to lift my head to look down there, but I couldn't. I was strapped in just as tight as at the beginning. I was about to pass out, when as suddenly as it had begun, the twirling in my cunt stopped. I thanked the Lord for the relief I had in that moment. My clit, I was sure, was bleeding.
"Then, all of a sudden, as the wrack began to twist me over so that my fanny was up, I knew why Jim had stopped using the dildo in my twat. He was going to use it in my asshole. Sure enough, once the machine had turned me over, the clasps came down again and separated my buns. They held my two cheeks wide open and Jim attacked my bunghole with that rubber-tipped artificial joint. He jammed it into my anus and didn't take it out until I passed out. I don't even know if he took it out after that. I just fainted and when I came to I was on my back again, juice flowing and oozing from my two holes. I was still attached to the wrack.
"I took a deep breath and wondered if I was really still alive. Then the door to that room opened-I could hear it-and I heard footsteps, one set only. I had a hunch it was Jim but whoever it was didn't show his or her face. I felt something cold and wet at my thigh, like cotton and water, and it was rubbing on my skin. Then I felt a mild pinch, and a needle prick. Someone, I figured, even though I couldn't see them, was giving me an injection. The next thing I knew, Doctor, I was drifting off into some other land. It was the best I had felt since the day I got married.
"Well, when I came to the next time I was in the house in the suburbs. It was the house in - City Jim had bought for me, the same one that we had looked at before the wedding. I wondered how and why he had brought me back to this place instead of killing me. I could see out the bedroom window the house next door, that's how I knew it was the same one, and I was able to tell by the bedroom wallpaper that it was the same interior. But I still didn't understand why he had been so foolish as to bring me back to that place when he must have known that I was going to use my every effort to escape him. Then, as I started to get up from the bed I was in, I realized why it didn't matter where I was. My feet were stretched and handcuffed to the foot of the bed and my wrists were similarly attached to the head bedboard. Jim was taking no chances at all-you see I was still a prisoner, a slave, a captive in my own home!
"It must have been the blood-curdling scream which I let out that brought Jim running. He burst open the door and on his face was that lecherous expression and hateful look which I shall never forget. He came over to the bed and pulled back the sheets. He let his hand go sliding up and down on my body. Softly, he fondled my breast, but then he twisted the nipple and nearly caused it to bleed. He rubbed a finger down between my twat lips and poked at my clitoris. Again, his move was calculated to excite me, but at the end he gave way to his sickly impulse to maim. He crammed more than three fingers into my twat and pressed my clitoris like it was a piece of dead fish. Oh, God, Doctor, I have never known such pain! Finally, he undressed and climbed onto my sweating body. He pushed his massive poker into my vulnerable twat hole. He slid his hands under my butt at the same time and jabbed a long middle digit up into my arse. I couldn't stand it... but of course I had no choice ...
"A few days later, after several attacks on my flesh of the sort I've already described, he decided to move me. He took me downstairs into the cellar and chained me to a set of pipes, one for hot water, one for cold. When someone used the hot water upstairs I had to pull away from the hot pipe as much as possible in order to prevent my back from being scalded. Whenever the door to the cellar opened, I shuddered with fear. It was always Jim with some new sexual extravaganza to try out on my body, on my poor disheveled flesh.
"He brought whips, chains, dildos, leather strings; billy clubs were not beyond him; one time he brought a high-heeled shoe and put it on his hand and walked with it up and down my thigh. Nothing was for Jim too tacky.
"Finally, one afternoon when I was on the brink of dying, the cellar door opened and it was my mother. I screamed at her to run away, to go hide and to save herself, but she came down the stairs telling me to be quiet, that she had an idea that something like this had been going on, and she set me free from those chains. I grabbed a robe upstairs and went with my mother to the police station. That was yesterday afternoon. They still haven't caught Jim. I certainly hope they do. I think he might hurt someone someday. Maybe he can be helped. I don't know, Doctor. I just don't know.
CASE NUMBER TWO: Cindy S.
"Doctor, I have such a nice body. I really do. I looked in the mirror before I came here today. I looked because I wanted to be sure that I wasn't fooling myself. You know what I saw? I saw these twq big tits of mine, and I caw how nice and smooth and browned my legs are. I saw that my waist is as trim as last year when I got married, and I even looked at my fanny. I took a little hand mirror and held it back there so I could see myself, and it was something. My little hole was all nice and brown, and just as tight as ever. And then I put down that mirror and cried. I cried my eyes out very nearly, Doctor...
"Do you know why I looked in that mirror? Because I wanted to see if there was something about me, about my body, my breasts, my nipples, my legs or my cunt or my ass, something about me, that warranted the awful treatment my husband has been giving me. That's why I looked. I wanted to know if there was something about me that I hadn't been paying attention to. And just to be sure, you know what I did? I fingered my little clit just to make sure that the oily ooze still came out just as fast as ever and that it smelled just as good, too. And it did. So I don't know why my husband treats me so rotten the way he does. I just don't know.
"The other night he took me out of bed-you hear me? We had got into bed to sleep already-he took me out of bed and said that I should be ashamed of myself for leaving the kitchen a mess. He took me into the kitchen, and he was holding me really tight around the wrist and he turned on all the fucking lights in the house, and there we was, going naked all the way to the kitchen and he flicked on the light in there and pointed at one dish, that was not clean, and it was sitting there in the sink. He says, 'See that, Cindy?' and I said, 'Yes, I see that, and started to go back to bed. But he wouldn't let me go, and he squeezed my wrist really hard. I don't know why, but I looked down between his legs and I saw that his meat was getting stiff. I was wondering what he was thinking about while he was squeezing my wrist, but I didn't have a chance to think much more about that because he said, 'Now, you wash that dish and then I'll take care of you the other way,' and he had a look in his eye like he really meant it. I didn't know what to do, so I washed that one dish in the sink. He watched me do it.
"Then he took me by the wrist again and turned off the lights on our way back to the bedroom. When I started to climb into the bed he said, 'Oh, no, little Cindy, not without your punishment. You left a dish undone, you have to get punished.' I told him that I thought he was taking himself a little too seriously, and he said 'We'll see who takes what seriously after you have been punished.' And he took a good grab of both of my wrists and pulled me up off the bed, which I had climbed into, and out of there and onto the floor. And then he sat on the side of the bed and pulled me up over his knees. He had me stretched out like that, over his thighs, and he was yelling at me that I should never leave a dish undone. He started spanking my buttocks whith his open hand. I couldn't believe it. I hadn't been spanked since I was about five years old. It stung, too, and I was starting to get tears in my eyes, and not from laughing, either. I yelled at him to stop but he just kept smacking my buns. I felt my ass cheeks getting so fucking hot. It was killing me, and I knew if he kept it up he would leave a bad bruise there. I bit him in the chin and he screamed out. I got up and was about to start laughing at him, but before I could he smacked me in the jaw with a closed fist. He beat me pretty fucking hard, Doctor. I was out cold on the floor.
"When I came to, he told me that since I had gone and acted like an asshole, he was going to fuck me up the asshole, and that it would teach me a lesson. I told him that if he could get it up there, he was welcome to it. I didn't think he was serious. But he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up on the bed. He stretched me out and slid a handful of grease along my cheeks. Before I knew it he had made the whole back canal as slippery and as greasy as could be. He rubbed that juice, wherever he got it from, up and down between my buns. I yelled at him, tried to scold him back, but it was not doing any good at all. He seemed very determined to get .his meat up inside my ass flesh. I didn't give way, but there wasn't much I could do.
"Next thing I knew he had his cock sliding into the hole in my buns. He was pushing that big spongy head of meat into my sphincter tube. He rode it all the way down inside and stuffed me full of that bony flesh. I wanted to cry out, to scream and to tell him that I thought he was some sort of spider, some terrible scorpion the way he was stinging me right then, but I didn't dare because I thought for sure that he would get angrier than he already was. He started pounding that muscle of his into me so hard-even without me complaining-that I thought for sure he was trying to murder me, not just my asshole. The entire wedge of flesh stick was up inside my anus. I couldn't believe he was able to fit that thing in there like that.
"And as for his hands, he had one on my clit and the other on my nipples. He was squeezing both of those tender spots about as quick as he could, making me hotter and juicier than I wanted to be at all. I didn't believe he was fucking me that way after spanking me the way he did. He didn't give a damn about me being his wife just then. All he was interested in was in getting his cock satisfied. And about a minute later that was happening. His joint was throbbing off inside my bowels, making a well of jism out of my bunghole. It hurt a great deal, too.
"When he was done yanking that joint out of my rear end, he told me that if I ever didn't do my job right again, he would give me the same kind of spanking. He said that if I ever left a dish undone or some of his underwear unfolded, that then he would consider that cause enough to give me a beating that I would never forget. I didn't want that to happen, and I was very frightened of him. He told me that if I ever told anyone that I had been mistreated, he would make sure that I lived to regret my words. With that he rolled over and went to sleep. I couldn't believe what was happening to me, how severe he was being.
"There were other times before that one when my husband had beat me. One time I had called the market for a delivery boy to bring over some things that I needed for cooking that night's dinner. Well, it was about five o'clock when the delivery boy arrived. He couldn't have been more than about sixteen, and with his freckles and his nice young biceps and all, well, I just couldn't seem to keep my hands off that lad. I went sliding my fingers up and down his arms and pressing my body against his, and before we knew it, me and this boy, Johnny, we ended up in bed. He was flinging his meat in and out of my hole, sending the springs to bouncing and squeaking like they never did before, and I was getting one wail of a good fucking, the kind of a nice punch that I knew I would be able to remember. His hog was going in and out of my juicing hole like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he was a virgin, but I doubt it. He might have been young, but he knew how to fuck a housewife's brains out. And that's what he did.
"Or that's what he would have done if my husband hadn't come home and caught us going at it like that. He nearly socked the kid, but I told him that it was all my doing, that I had brought the kid on, rubbed his joint and all, seduced him and everything, and while I was saying that, and while my husband was getting worked up over it, Johnny high-tailed it out of there. By the time ol' hubby realized what was happening, well, there was only one person left to smack around, I guess.
"He slipped his belt off and came at me with it. I told him that there surely just must be some other way of satisfying his being angry at me. I told him I would suck him off and eat his balls and give him an asshole reaming. I told him that I would be happy to stuff him -with my tongue and suck on his toes. Anything, Doctor-I was willing to do anything at all to avoid being hit by that belt of his.
"But I think he wanted to beat me more than he wanted to love me. Or maybe that was his way of getting to show that he didn't like me anymore, or that he was worried about work and all. But whatever it is, he kept coming at me. I tripped over a chair and landed on the floor, in a corner of the room. It was very, humiliating. I didn't know what he was going to do. He was standing up there towering over me, waving that belt back and forth. Then he kicked me with his foot. He kicked me in the thigh. He really did it hard, too, so that the next day there was a purple mark there on my leg.
"Then he pulled me up while I was moaning and all, and he tossed me down on the bed. I ended up spread-eagle with my hands spread out and my legs wide, and then I felt it. At first I wasn't sure what it was. It was like something had snapped inside my spine, like something had gone wild in my nervous system, but then, as the sting spread out across my cheeks, I knew that it was that whip-action of his leather belt as he crossed my ass with it. He'd hit me so severely hard with that brown leather belt of his that I hadn't, for just one moment, known exactly what it was. I was crazy to have stuck around after that. But before I could even think again that belt came down smacking me across the backs of the legs. He was treating me like a dog, like a mutt that had pissed or shit in the wrong place. He was beating me with his leather belt as if I was some sort of mongrel.
"The next thing I knew was that he had that belt tied up around my ankles. I told him that he had gone far enough, that if he really hated me that much for fucking with one delivery boy that I would leave the house and he'd never have to look at me again. But he didn't listen to me. He just kept wrapping and tying my ankles with that strap of leather. He paid no mind at all to my beating on his head with my fists as I tried to get away from him.
"Pretty soon he had me laced at the ankles. I stopped pounding on his head and his chest and started crying. That belt around my feet was killing me. I asked him to please let me go, and I sobbed at him. He didn't listen at all. He just chucked me over onto my belly. I looked over my shoulder, though, and he was getting undressed. He was looking at me from time to time and he was saying, 'So you want to make it with a delivery boy, every now and then, eh? So you like to get a nice young meat up your twat, is that it? You like to fuck with just about anyone, eh? Well, we'll see about that. We'll just see about that. ...'
"I told him that I didn't know why I liked doing it with the delivery boy, but that surely I liked him better. After all, he was my husband. I tried to convince him that I wouldn't ever again fool around on him, but he didn't believe me. I heard a drawer open and then next thing I knew he was rubbing that juice up and down between my buns. He was getting me ready for a cornhole. Jesus, Doctor, I didn't want to have to suffer that. He took that grease and spread it around on my cheeks, worked it into my asshole and spread it along the sides of my buns, too. He got it going everywhere. Then he took to rubbing it on his hog. He greased up his meaty prong and his balls and his legs.
"I didn't want to look any more. I was going to have to endure that big hairy wanger of his. I didn't want it. I wanted not to be married just then. I wanted to be out flying a kite with my father or something, to be a little girl again.
"Then, all of a sudden, I felt that huge sword go plunging into my butt. Oh, God, Doctor, it was like getting knifed in the ass. It went in so stiff and didn't let me rest at all. I couldn't move. I tried to but I couldn't. I held onto the mattress while that monster phallus went pouncing into my little rubbery hole, filling me up in some way that I knew wasn't right. He jammed me so hard that tears came to my eyes. I couldn't believe the way he was fucking my bunghole with that big fuck rod. He wouldn't let me up, either, until he had shot off his jism load.
"When he had yanked that spike out of my rear tube and when he had caught his breath, he turned to me and started yelling and calling me all sorts of names. He said I was probably the worst little whore he had ever seen, that no matter who I thought I was I was really just a little bitch trying and pretending to be something I wasn't, and that no matter how much I thought I was going to be getting away with, I would always be a cunt, and no matter what I did to make up for the foul way I treated myself and him, abusing our marriage that way, that there was nothing I could do to put things right again. Then, when I told him that in that case I would be leaving him, he slapped me across the face so hard that I can still feel the sting. It was not a light tap on the face. It sent me reeling backwards onto the bed where I cried my heart out.
"You'd think that I'd have got the message, that I'd have left and called that marriage over. But you know what I did? No sooner did he come putting his hand on my shoulder and pulling me around and looking at him, then I apologized and kissed him. I don't know what got into me, but he'd beaten me so bad that I couldn't resist him anymore. He pressed his lips against my mouth and I went floating in his arms.
"I don't know why I did it. A minute later I was sucking him off, licking that long wet flesh rod. I didn't just give him a little taste of my mouth either. I gave him a good scrubbing, one that he'd remember. Maybe he'd even think that beating me went with a good blow-job. And I don't even know if maybe that wasn't what I wanted him to think. You know what I mean? I think maybe in some ways I wanted him to beat me again, only different. I don't know, Doctor. Maybe I'm sick, too.. .
"But one thing I'll never forget is the time he beat me and my girlfriend. It was Jane's day off and she came over to visit me. She was just hanging around and we got to talking about sex. It was only natural. You know how it is when two women get together.
"Well, Jane's not built like me. Where I'm big and chesty she's slender and slight. And where I have ample thighs and smooth skin on my loins, she's got skin and bones. She's just a skinny broad, and there are no two ways about it. That doesn't mean she's not pretty-not by a long shot. In fact, to tell you the truth, there's a lot of times I wish I were Jane and she were me.
"But that's not how it was that day. On that day she was telling me how bad she felt that she didn't have big titties like -me. And I was telling her how wrong she was to feel that way. It just wasn't right. She shouldn't have been putting herself down that way.
"Well, one thing led to another, and I ended up giving her a little pat on the back, a little rub on the shoulder. Maybe she was crying or something-I don't know-but she felt pretty bad. I didn't want her getting all depressed and everything, crying like that, so I didn't think anything of touching her that way. Well, the next thing I knew-I don't know how it happened- we were kissing each other: not just on the cheek, either. This was heavy, passionate kissing. On the mouth, in the mouth, I should say, and it was the kind of kissing that was getting me really turned on.
"I could feel Jane's tongue going in and out of my face. It tasted just delicious. I didn't know what to do, to stop, to go on, to keep feeling her up, what... I just did what seemed to be almost natural and rubbed her chest, like she was doing to me, until we were both so damn hot that the only thing left to do was undress. I got my pants off and Jane got her skirt off. I don't-know how we managed with the rest of our clothes, but we left a trail going across the livingroom and down the hallway and into the bedroom. And that's where I did it with her, up on top of my marriage bed, with my legs spread out and my pussy drooling clit juice and that skinny baby girl sucking me so hard that I thought I was going to go up inside her mouth and down into her belly and never come out again. It was super! I loved the feel of her tongue on my clit-that was especially nice!
"Pretty soon she got my legs to shivering and my butt feeling like it was hot as burning coals. I just needed something more from her. So I reached up on my chest where her hand was and I put it back behind me, between my cheeks. I could feel her finger. It was looking for the right angle. I showed her to the hole. In it went, all the way up inside and gouging out my bowels until it started feeling like an electric cattle prodder, shoving me around in every direction at once. I couldn't help but spread my legs out and get back on my spine so that Jane could get her tongue and her finger further into my two pelvis orifices. It was delicious.
"I was huffing and puffing, gasping and sighing, and telling her that I needed her just as much as I needed my husband. I told her that I loved her more than I could love anyone, that the feel of her tongue slopping around between my lips was heaven itself.
"Jane pulled her finger out of my anus, She turned around and spread her legs over my face. She had one loin on either side of my face. She gave me her twat. I could get my tongue in there if I lifted my head, so I gathered a pillow up under the nape of my neck and in luxurious comfort went to work at eating out her pussy. She was doing the same for me between my excited legs. We were doing the feminine 69, and it was perfect!
"Well, you just know what had to happen. My husband came home early from work and caught us going at it like that. No matter how much I begged him to let Jane go home, to let her get out of the house and all, he wouldn't let her loose. He insisted that she was as much a part of the sinning as I was, that he had to whip her just as much as he had to whip me. Jane even tried telling him that she was the one responsible entirely, that she was worried about her titties being to small and that that was what had caused the whole thing and that for her it would be better if my husband only beat Jane. But he didn't buy that. He wouldn't let her get past him at the door when she tried.
"First he tied up Jane. I tried to keep him from doing it, but he's so much stronger than I am that I couldn't do a thing about it. He got her into a pretty good hold with his tie. He wrapped that around her ankles. Then he used his belt to get her hands. He tied her hands behind her back. That left her completely vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do to her. Every now and then, between straping me up, he slapped Jane, just as if it were an extra little bit of fun or something. He tied me with two belts which he got from the closet. He tied my hands behind my back, and then he tied my ankles up. Finally, he attached my hands and my ankles together. He really had me like a cow ready for branding. It was too much to believe.
"He rolled us both down on the bed, and then he got naked himself. There we were, the two of us women and that one man, my husband, all nude, him the only one free to move as he pleased. Well, the first thing he did was come over to Jane and lean down real close to her face and smile at her and say: 'You like to give me a little suck Jane? Just a little? Just to show your friend's hubby how much you like her? Eh?' She spit in his face. She spit in his face. But Jane, she didn't know how bad a mistake that was. The next instant, my hubby slapped her so hard that the bed shook. I could hear her wince and the tears started to flowing. Oh, God, it was awful.
"Next minute, though, he's got his rod up against her face and she's getting it into place with her lips. He helped her by stuffing himself forward, leaning into her and giving her all of that flesh rod at once. He got that whole thing into her mouth and she sucked it like a good girl, as he would have said. He reached down to her cheeks and held her face by the side. He rubbed her mouth up and down on his boner, working it like she had a twat in her mouth. He gave himself all the pleasure he could get out of Jane's face. Then he pulled her face away from his boner and pushed her down on her back.
"He laughed to himself when he saw her trying to lick up some of her own saliva, and he climbed down between her legs with his mouth. Tm going to give you a little sucking that you like so much, Jane. Eh?' And he went to laughing like a hyena in her twat with his tongue slopping and rubbing up and down against her clitoris. He worked really hard to make that little pink flesh knob of Jane's get stiff again. He ate her out for about five minutes. Then he worked a finger around behind her butt and stuffed it up. She didn't have any place she could go. He had a good tight hold on her hips so that when he jammed that finger in she could only scream. She'd have bit him if she could, but he didn't give her enough room to move in.
"Finally, he yanked his finger out of her asshole and he came over to me. 'My wife needs special attention,' he said, and he shoved that same finger into my mouth. I couldn't move at all. I didn't know what to do. He shoved that finger down between my mouth lips and made me suck on it. He forced me to eat off that digit. Then he stuck it down between my twat lips, shoved it into my pie and worked it up and down. He got my clit going that way. Even though I was tied up, I had to admit that his cunt working make me feel good. I wanted to get free though, and he wouldn't let me.
"I asked him, finally, if he would let us loose, if he didn't think that maybe he had caused us enough pain. He said no, that he would tell us when he thought it was time for him to let us go, and that until then I should lay there and be quiet. He slapped me to make me believe he meant business.
"I saw that his joint was awfully fat and round. It was bigger than most of the times when we went fucking in bed. I figured that my marriage had been a failure because I now knew that the real thing that turned on my husband was fucking and beating at the same time. He liked to beat women and then fuck them, or vice versa, and that meant that we wouldn't be able to live together anymore, that we would have to get a divorce.
'Then, all of a sudden, he surprised me. He brought out this whip. I had never seen it before. He showed it to us as though it were a flower. He drew it across our faces, making us smell it and rubbed it down between our legs. He took the thick rubber handle and used that black-jack thing like a dildo between our legs. He went rubbing and sliding up and down on my pussy with that thing, making me get hotter and lustier than a hoot owl in springtime. He jacked me off pretty good with the handle of that thing, and then he slid it down deep inside, pushing it all the way back to the inside back wall of my canal. Jesus, I nearly jumped off the bed with the ecstasy he was giving me with that thing, only my hands were tied and my legs were strapped and there wasn't any way for me to move. He kept stroking with that thing, working it in and out of my hole.
"He did the same thing with Jane after he finished fingering me with it. He pushed and pulled the handle up and down inside my hole. I couldn't resist whispering to Jane and asking her 'How's it feel?' She nodded her head between screams at my husband, telling him to get his grubbing whip away from her body, telling me that she secretly enjoyed it.
"When he had finished stroking that thing in and out of her body, he told Jane to get ready for a little fuck action. He put the whip aside and looked at me: 'You, fucking harlot, watch me and see how it feels!' That's all he said, and he pushed Jane down flat on her back and slammed his meat into her tight twat. He filled her up with that stick of flesh, jammed it all the way into her tunnel and bored her through. She wailed in ecstasy and pain, because it no doubt felt good, better even than the whip handle, but it also hurt because her feet were still tied together and he had to pull her twat lips open to get in there. He ignored her wailing, however, and filled her up as much as possible.
"Pretty soon I could see the bulging muscle sliding up and down like a flesh piston. There was lubricating clit juice just about everywhere. It made my husband's meaty rod shine and shimmer as he went sailing up and down, in and out, of Jane's healthy hole. It was really something, Doctor, to see that massive weapon stinging her like that, drilling her and filling her up. I supposed that when he fucked me it was much the same way.
"Just before he was about to squirt in Jane's twat, he pulled out and undid her bonds. He told her to go home. She said that she wanted to stay and make sure that I didn't get hurt. But my husband smashed her across the face for saying that and she went careening backwards into the hallway. He closed the bedroom door and propped a chair against the handle so that Jane couldn't get back in if she tried.
"He came at me with that big wet hard-on of his dripping and drooling Jane's fresh clit juice. 'So you like to fuck around, eh?' he asked me, waving his wand like a steel spike. 'So you want to have more fucking than I give you, eh?' he said with a sadistic smile. He climbed up on the bed and released my feet. He spread them out, though, so that he could refasten them to the foot of the bed. He tied me outwards, my feet spread, by the ankles. I was spread-eagle on the bed, my cunt open, my titties wobbling, my heart beating a mile a minute.
"I begged him not to be vicious, not to be mean to me. But he wouldn't listen. He picked up the whip that he had previously shown me for the first time, and he drew the snake-like weapon portion of the thing across my belly. He made it move like a slender cobra and when he had all of that thing gathered up in his hand he carried it over to one side of the bedroom and lifted it like a cowboy's lasso. He let it fly through the air and crack over my right breast. I could feel the tailwind as the deadly tip snapped back and away from my body. If he touched me with that thing it would sear my flesh in a burn. I begged him not to do it again.
"But he didn't listen to me. He picked up the whip and I heard the sharp crack, this time above my left thigh. I was so frightened that I didn't want to have my eyes open. I didn't want to see that terrifying thing coming at me. Suddenly, I was almost sure of it, I was in for a moment of relief. I heard the whip clunk to the floor alongside the bed.
"But I also felt the bed rocking. I opened my eyes and saw my husband climbing up between my legs. 'Oh, God, no,' I said, for it was then that I saw he was going to fuck me, which wouldn't have been so bad, but he had attached to his prong a propeller like thing, a gnarled piece of plastic which I was sure would chew up my insides. I don't remember what happened. I was in the hospital and they brought me here to see you, Doctor. Of course, that time I refused. Everything was o.k. a few days later and I saw no need to complicate my life with a psychiatrist.
"You're wondering then why I'm here today? Well, last night..."
CASE NUMBER THREE: Ellen F.
"Thank God, Doctor, that my little boy and I got out alive. It was that close.
"Don't get me wrong. There were plenty of times that I spent with Ed when it couldn't have been nicer. To feel his meat rubbing between my nice young twat lips, the way he did it when we first met and married and all, well, there just wasn't a nicer feel in the world. I used to look down between our two bodies and I could see his joint. It would be rubbing there, rubbing and sliding and pushing against my clitoris. That's what I liked! It was super that way! That beating stuff, that stuff with the whips and the chains and the tying me up, well, that came later and I didn't like it. No sir. Not a whole lot, anyhow.
"But I'll never forget the first time he crammed that pillar of flesh of his all the way up my bunghole. Talk about pain? And ache? My God! What a thing that was! And I could feel it jerking in there, too. It wasn't like he just stabbed you one time and that was it. No sir. He had to not only get it in there, but then he had to get it in there deep, all the way down inside my bowels. I'll never forget the feel of that mushroom head, the way it touched down the first time. How do you do, it said to the inside of my body! Wow!
"You know, though, that once it was in there it wasn't so bad. I did a little rocking and a little rolling, and, well, it wasn't so bad. Once I got to jerking around a bit it wasn't so bad at all. I kind of liked it. Ed, he used to take me round the waist. He'd put one hand there, stuff a finger or two into my hole, and then he'd go to work on my titties with the other hand. He had good timing, too. Knew just when to rock me, just when to roll it. It was really quite something, and when he came!?! Well, yes mam, it was a blast from the up-above, the kind of a shoot-out that they must have had down there at the o.k. corral. I mean my insides were so shot up with juices and jisms that I'm glad I lived to tell about it. He really knew how to flood it.
"One time I gave him that kind of header, too. I know . it was good. I could feel him throbbing even before he went and came. I licked that rod of his, rubbed that spongy tip, used my tongue for everything. Even went sliding up and down the tube. Kissed his balls some, just to be sure, and then, like magi-cubes, boom, he exploded all over my mouth and my face, and he even got me with one shot of that squirting thing in the eyeball. It was too fucking much to believe. I loved it. Loved every squirt of that stuff. Especially when it went dripping down my cheeks and all. Mmmmm, good!
"But what I didn't like was the pain shit. He got into that later on. He started doing stuff like getting my hands spread out above my head. He'd hold my wrists out above my head. He'd push really hard and expect me to just lay there. Of course, he had his cock in my cunt so that made for a kind of a contrast. My pussy was burning with joy, but my wrists were just plain burning up. He was twisting them so hard that even after that first time there was a mark from the way it burned.
"He fucked me good that day, though, and filled me up with enough cum to make ten babies, let alone the one he did. All the time I was pregnant you'd think that he'd be sure to take care of me, sure to make me feel nice and comfortable and all sorts of easy-going and all, but no, all he did was make me feel like a special sort of wife-slave. He said it was my own stupid fault for getting pregnant in the first place, and that it was my own stupid fault for going ahead and having the baby. I told him that he was the dumb one for sticking it in my hole when he didn't have any idea what he was doing. He just laughed at that. I wasn't that day so pregnant that you could tell and he went and shoved me down on the bed and jabbed that meat of his down inside my pussy. He rocked and rolled me up and down on that bed, but he was also pinching my ass cheeks and making me blush with ache down there while he was making me blush with pleasure up above. I thought for sure that the confusion was going to give me heart-failure. It was a rather miserable fucking.
"Another time, after the boy had been born, Ed took to walloping on me. He said that I had let my body go- which was not true-I was in even better shape than before I bore that kid, and he was telling me all sorts of snotty things. I finally slapped him across the face. You should have had a camera, Doctor, to see the look of rage and horror and hurt on that man's face. For one instant there I even thought he might be human. But then he got so painfully angry that he couldn't control himself. He pulled my clothes right off my body.
"He took me by the wrist and dragged me like a stubborn mule into the bathroom. He laid me out over his knees and stuffed the end of a nozzle from a douche-bag, jammed it up my sphincter. That hurt so much I thought for sure I was going to explode with that juice in my belly. Jesus, that was just too much. Of course, it made my little hole start getting a little bit turned on and I was quite ashamed to admit that, but then, once I got that thing out of me and got myself a seat on the toilet, then I was pretty well satisfied all around. It didn't take long for me to get drained.
"But no sooner did I get that stuff out of me, and get a quick showering, when Ed was grabbing me by the arm and pulling me back into the bedroom. I think he'd even forgotten what he was punishing me for, but he said it needed to be done to make sure that I understood who I was and who he was. He flung me down on his knees and started spanking me. These weren't easy and soft slaps, either. These were ear-cracking smacks on my tender behind by his open hand. I tried to get free because I knew he was going to give me some sort of a purple fanny if I weren't careful, but even when I finally got free of him, he wasn't done with me.
"He shoved me down on the bed and pulled my twat lips open. He used a tube of some sort of lubricant that we keep on hand and he shoved his joint down inside my hole until there wasn't any room for any more. And he kept coming in like that, even though I was all full up of his cock meat. I should have told him that he was an asshole for doing that, but I thought for sure he would kill me right then if I said so much as how-do-you-do! He was wailing up and down like a jackhammer. I loved the feel of it on the out-strokes but I dreaded it when he was coming in. It hurt so bad.
"Finally, I just gave into that powerful sword and to my husband's will. It was like giving way to a cyclone. I really didn't have all that much choice.
"I wrapped my arms around his back and held on for dear life. I felt the muscles in his back rippling in my, fingers. I reached down between his buns where I-found his crack. There I jabbed a good hard finger into his anus, but not so deep that it would hurt him too bad. I gave him a good little rubbing with that finger while he was punishing me with his huge fuck muscle.
Jesus, it felt like the roto-rutor man was coming to take my insides away.
"He put his hands up and under my globes. He worked a finger into my asshole while his cock kept drilling my front hole. He knew his fuck method, that's for sure!
"After a little while I told him I loved him. He looked at me, he laughed, and then he slapped me across the face. He said, 'Bitch, you don't know the meaning of the word!' And he kept rocking up and down inside my twat. I didn't know what to say. He had me around the wrists and he was pressing my arms back behind my head. I must have had some terrified look on my face even though Ed didn't see it. My eyes, I think they were staring at him like fractured windows, and my body was sweating. No man ever hit me before, let alone when he had his cock rammed up my twat. I looked down between our two bodies and there it was, that huge muscle of his shining blue and glistening with fresh ooze, like dew. I wondered how he could possibly be enjoying his penis in my hole and hitting me at the same time. I tried to get up and get free, but that was about as useless a thing to be thinking about doing as going to the moon. It was just ridiculous.
"Next thing I knew he smacked me again. He said, 'Listen you lousy little bitch. You try and get up again like that and I'll fucking ram a dildo down your throat. You hear me?' And he fucked me that way, with my arms pinned down, with my legs spread out, for about a half hour. I didn't have hardly any chance at all of getting away from him and by the time he finished using me-and that's what it was, Doctor, using me-I was sore all over. My insides were ready to bleed, but they didn't, and my chest was all sweaty and my titties were just about as blushing and flushed as they could be. I thought I would never recover. That's how abused and spent my body felt from that punishing fucking he did with my body that day.
"Another time he found me jacking myself off, I don't know how he discovered me exactly. I was kind of laying in bed in the afternoon. You know how that can be, Doctor? You're laying around and you get to feeling like you might just like to feel your clit get hot or something. I was laying there feeling myself up and wondering if maybe I couldn't get a nice orgasm out of it. So I got up and I took off my cotton white shorts and I took off my blouse and my bra, and I took to stroking my loins, just testing myself to see if maybe I wouldn't get hot enough to cum or something. You know? So I went to rubbing that way and feeling myself and I got my clit to come to a full erection. It was up and straight and stiff like a Marine Sergeant.
"My insides were fluttering like butterflies, too. They were all hot and sweaty and juice was oozing down from my hole. I felt for sure that I would get so fucking hot that I would be able to cum. i rubbed my titties with one hand, stroking my nipples, squeezing the soft creamy flesh. I kneaded the flesh of my chest until it was hot and as ready as any other part of my body for a fabulous fucking. I reached under my asshole and jabbed a finger up inside me to be sure that that side of me was equally sexually stimulated. It was important that I be as hot as I could. It was like magic. Having a finger in either hole gave me a lot of sexy feelings. I wanted to explode with all the sex I was feeling. It was getting so that I thought maybe my orgasm was on the way. I think it was just then that I opened my eyes.
"I don't know why I looked up, but there was no doubt about what I saw. It was Ed. He was standing there looking down at me. He wasn't really looking at me, but at my cunt where my fingers had been. He was looking at me like I was some sort of a piece of shit. He had this glazed look in his eyes, like he couldn't understand what I was doing with my hand and like he didn't care-he was going to beat the shit out of me.
" 'Ed, honey,' I said. 'Oh, boy, am I glad to see you. This means I don't have to rub myself anymore, right?' I reached out to take a little feel of his crotch, with the same hand that I'd been jacking my clit with, and he slapped my fingers. He said that I was a nasty little whore, a bitch and a tramp and that now I was going to see what it was like to get a good beating. I begged him not to do it, not to hit me. I knew that it wouldn't help either one of us. He was undressing though, and he had that glazed look in his face, and I didn't think there was anyway of stopping him.
"I started up off the bed, as naked as the dawn, and he snatched me by the arm and flicked me, like I was a piece of stick or something, backwards across the room. He was strong enough that he could do something like that without even thinking. I landed on my back and my titties were wobbling. I was pretty shook up because I had a gander at how big that muscle was hanging there between Ed's legs. It was like it was larger than ever, thanks for his having the opportunity to throw me around a bit. He was coming at me before I knew it, and I understood that he wasn't going to be exactly friendly about the way he treated me.
"The head of that big muscle of his was about as hot looking at a fired up piece of steel. He was going to be sticking that thing inside my cunt, and I thought for sure that I would be going crazy if I had such a large muscle as that thrusted into my body. You might ask, Doctor, how it was I had fucked him on so many other occasions and had no worry whatsoever about the size of his organ, and you would be right to ask that question. But the fact is simple: Ed's meat was larger than ever before on this occasion. I am not exaggerating. It was thicker, tougher looking, wider at the base. That shank of meat was so large and so long that I thought for sure I would die to have it plunged down inside my hole. Jesus, I'll never forget the looks of that big snake-head as he brought it toward me.
"I begged him not to do it. But he didn't listen to me-not one bit. He pushed me down on my back and shoved his naked cock up against my hole. He rubbed the head of that meat into my pussy before I could say lickety-split. Then he pulled it out and told me to suck him off. I asked him why, but he smacked me on the face before I had even formed the word. I went dutifully to work on his prick.
"I licked that thing from root to tip. I worked out on it as though the entire meat were just one big piece of hot dog and I were the buns. I rubbed it between my lips, sucked it with my tongue and my mouth at once. I used it like a toothbrush and held it with both hands. Then I laid down and pulled Ed close between my titties. I knew he would like that. I took his joint and pressed it first against my left cherry nipple and then at the creamy breast below. Then I did the same thing with the right. Finally, I used both titties at once. I squashed my two breasts at once around that thick pole of hot penis muscle. Mmmmmmmm . .. even though he was trying to hurt me I was enjoying myself a little bit.
"Then, all of a sudden, he reached down under my buns and applied a finger to my sassy little asshole. I knew I was in for trouble now. He crammed that finger into my bunghole. I had to roll over in order to relieve the pressure. But the next thing I knew that finger of his was sliding up and down in my bunghole, rubbing around in my sphincter and giving me the hardest time I could possibly have in there. I didn't believe he was doing that. There wasn't any reason. His finger couldn't have been feeling that good from it. His mind must have been getting some incredible sensation from thinking about stuffing me with his digit. I don't know why he felt good from sticking his finger up my asshole, but just from the look on his face, which I could see in the mirror opposite the bed, I knew he was getting some pleasure out of hurting me that way.
"It wasn't long after that I started screaming. I remember yelling like that one time when I was a very little girl. A boy who lived down the street had grabbed me by the hair. He pulled and yanked on my hair so hard that I thought I was going to be bald for the rest of my life. He just tore a big clump of my yellow blonde hair right out of my scalp. I went running home to my Daddy.
"Well, that's how I felt when Ed was jabbing me with his finger. I wanted my father to come and beat him up the same way he had that day that little boy who pulled my hair. Only he didn't really beat up the little boy, he just spanked him. I wanted my Daddy to come and spank this man, my husband, for poking me in the asshole.
"The next thing I knew Ed was spreading lubricant around between my buns. He was working the stuff up and down the walls of my crack. There was to be no stopping him. He was coating the walls with juice, making them as slippery and greasy as could be. I wanted him to keep doing that. It was a nice feel, but I knew that sooner or later it would turn into the same kind of punishment that he was doing before with his finger.
" 'Please, Ed, darling,' I begged him, 'won't you let me give you some suck or something like that? Please, darling, let me give that meaty prick of yours a nice rubbing?'
"He didn't say anything. He just kept sliding the side of his palm up and down between my cheeks. Pretty soon I couldn't help myself. I started wobbling up and down, working my ass in a little circle, getting all carried away and everything. I was so hot with the feel of that grease and his hand that I didn't care any more about what would come afterwards. I started saying, 'Oh, Ed, darling, please, oh, Ed, oh, fuck, shit, oh, slippery, oh, Ed, please, oh, God, darling...'
"He just kept greasing me, me and his rod, and pretty soon I felt something pressing there between my two cheeks, something pressing in there and I knew it wasn't his hand any more. I could just tell that it wasn't the side of his hand, but I did know that something was pressing in my rear fold. It was when he leaned down close and whispered in my ear that he liked playing with my sphincter with his cock head that I knew I was going to be in for a lot of trouble, now, and all of a sudden he shoved forward and that meaty spongy head of his ripped at my bunghole and filled up my back alley.
"Oh, Jesus, it was really something. I started swearing a blue streak. I yelled at him: 'You fuck head, you asshole, you ass wipe, you mother fucking pigshit arse in the wall, you piece of wasted urine-turd, you fucking copper, you mother fucking pig sty ...' and so forth. He hated to be called a pig or a copper because he was a policeman once, and when ever I called him a pig he felt terrible because he knew what turds they really were. But that didn't stop him for fucking me up the asshole, that way. No sir, he just went right ahead jamming and slamming. I could hear his pelvis slapping up against my asscheeks as I yelled as loud as my lungs would go.
"Pretty soon, that pecker of his got to rolling all the way down my tube. It wasn't just stuffed up inside me; it was all the way down to my bowels; and, he had his fingers from one hand stuffing my cunt and his fingers from the other hand working out on my titties. I didn't know if I was going to be coming or going. My whole body was electric with the feel of that joint of his inside my anus. Even though it hurt me, it was also making me feel so fucking good that I couldn't believe it. I was just dying for it to be over, Doctor. That was very confusing. I was dying for that fuck to be over so that I could stop being punished.
"Well, the next thing I knew he was pulling that pound-machine out of my anus and telling me to get down on the floor. I looked at him over my shoulder and he was getting some sort of harness device out of the drawer. I asked him what that was and he saw me looking. He told me to get down on my hands and knees on the other side of the bed or he would fucking rape me in the asshole again. I didn't know what to do.
"I climbed off the side of the bed while he was busily clipping or unclipping something of his. I don't know what it was, but I was scared to death of what he was doing. Then he came climbing up over the bed and leaned down over me. 'Now this won't hurt,' he said. 'You just be good and it won't hurt a bit,' he said. He strapped this harness thing around me. It fitted over my chest and around my titties so that they were free to move any which way. Then another part of the thing went around my waist and attached around my hips. There was a part of it that went and looped around my twat and around my asshole. It had a metal clasp up on top and it was made of leather. It was some sort of a halter. The thing about it, though, was that there was a leash attached to the metal part up above. He could lead me around any way he wanted, like I was a monkey or something.
"He started pulling on the cord and I had to follow him. It hurt in my cunt because of the cut of the leather if I didn't follow him. 'Come on, little monkey,' he said. 'You come with your hubby and there won't be any trouble at all.' He jerked me along like that, pulling me like a dog on a training leash. I didn't have any choice. Then, when he got me down the hallway on my hands and knees, and when we were on our way into the livingroom, he told me to wait there for him. He tied the leash up around the doorknob. I realized then that I could stand up. I did so and waited for him. I started to fiddle with the back of the gear, trying to get it loose. I did so after a little while, but it was too late. He was already back from locking up the front room and pulling the blinds. He refastened the leather halter in place where I had managed to loosen it.
" Tou asshole,' he said, T was just getting to enjoy having you for a pet. And you go and ruin it.' He kicked me in the side and shoved me down on the ground. I didn't have much of a chance to get away. He forced me into a humiliating position in that harness. He could make me lay flat or force me to get up on my hands and knees, just by pulling that leash.
"Pretty soon, after leading me around the livingroom, he told me to stay still. He got down with a boner hanging from between his legs and pushed it up against my creamy butt cheeks. He rubbed and slid and enjoyed the feel of my spread ass flesh. Then he released that part of the halter which guarded my butt hole and speared me with his knife-like flesh weapon. He shoved all of that massive joint into my orifice, down deep, all the way into my bowels. He shoved it all the way into me and there was no way to possibly get out of his vice-like grip. He had me with his hands around my shoulders, his cock impaling me through the bunghole. I felt like a lunch meat for a sex deviate.
"Jesus Christ, Doctor, do I have to tell you more? After that, with the harness, you think there could be something more humiliating? You'd think not, eh? Well, there was. There was plenty of the same.
"There was the night he came home and made me put the harness on myself. He would touch it, but when I told him I wouldn't dare do such a masochistic thing he slapped me across the face and sent me crashing into the bedroom closet. I fell down in a heap of old dresses and shoes. He picked me up and pulled me to my feet. 'Now,' he said, 'put on the harness.' I couldn't very well refuse.
"I put the thing on and he made me suck him off. I had to get down on my hands and knees. He held the leash. He made me suck him hard. It was like being some sort of animal in heat. He was my master. He ruled me. By pulling on the choker device he could make my twat so sore that I would go crazy. So I licked and sucked his stiff meaty boner until he was ready to begin throbbing. If he told me to grab onto his rod, to hold it until hell freezed over, then I would do that. I grabbed onto that thick shaft and held it tight. I pulled on the lip of the crown with my tongue and my mouth lips. I rubbed and sucked and licked for as long as he wanted it. I could see the testes below getting hard, stiff, like rounded eggs, and goose bumps were spreading up and down his loins.
"Then he pulled the leash, the choker, and I had to get up off of him. He turned over and showed him his asshole. 'Lick,' he commanded. 'Lick out my anus, bitch.' He pulled on the choker and my twat got another shock. I went into action, rubbing my mouth in and out of his asshole, Using my tongue to cleanse his filthy rear orifice. He let me, after that, go to the bathroom to wash out my mouth and brush my teeth. But he stood close at hand holding onto the leash so that he could continue to exert his devilish control on my body should he deem it necessary to do so at any time.
"Finally, after I had washed, he reached out and played with one of my nipples. He stroked it up and down, rubbed it and worked it, and then he went with two hands, holding the choker in one, and squeezed one titty at a time. He sucked and licked at the nipple and then he backed off and told me in a gruff voice, like I were a poodle or a cocker-spaniel, 'Down, on your hands and knees. I'm going to fuck your buns.'
"I got down because he pulled on that leather choker one more time. I spread my legs and he prepared my anus, and his cock with grease. He rubbed that slippery stuff all over my asshole across my buns, and all over his big tough meat. There was going to be no stopping him. It looked like whether I wanted it or not, that huge phallus of his would soon go winding up and down my anal alley. Jesus Christ, it was big though, and I could tell from looking at it that the up and coming ride was not going to be all peaches and cream.
" 'O.k., wifey poo,' he said, 'now's the time to see how much you can take.'
"'Please,' I begged him. 'Please, won't you let me do something else. Just let me-'
"He yanked on the choker and I had to wince with pain. It was terrible to feel that leather strap grinding into my cunt that way. I would have rather he took a cigarette burning and smoldering and pushed that up against the sole of my foot than feel that strap on my twat that way. But he wouldn't listen to me, and he kept pulling that leather cord. Finally, I gave him all the vulnerable ass flesh he could possibly use and he shoved his cock meat down my anus. He pushed that sword of his into my holster and didn't stop pounding until he was all the way down the track. Even then he was still pushing and shoving hard, barely letting me get any relief at all. He wasn't going to stop until he go: all the way down in there and had tortured me to death...with his tool. It really hurt bad and I wanted to die because of that terrible pain he was causing me. It was wiping me out something fierce. I hated myself for letting him get to me that way and there wasn't anything I could do to stop him.
"Pretty soon he reached around and released the part of the halter which guarded my cunt hole. He stuck his finger inside my pussy and pressed against my clitoris. He flicked my little clit up and down until it was hard as a pebble of gold. He rubbed it around and around like a miniature gear-shift. When I was leaking profusely and my legs were quivering with delight and juice, then he took my titties in one hand (my clit still in the other) and he squeezed so hard that I thought I was going to die. He wasn't trying to create pleasure in my body. He was trying to wipe me away with pain. I wanted to fall down and never think again. I cursed the day I married him, but at the same time I was loving the role of subservience that he was making me play. He was making me passive, docile, and I was being made to live out the role my mother said I should play. Pretty soon he shot off in my anus and he quickly strapped me up again. He clipped the piece of leather shut that went around my twat. He tied off the one which protected my asshole. Then he pulled on the choker and stood up. He made me go around the room on my hands and knees.
"Then he made me stand. He made me walk around at arms distance so that he could inspect me. He made me prance like some sort of gelding and pretended, I'm sure, that he was a circus trainer. He prepared me for all sorts of special events, this was one of them, this prance around the livingroom, this little walk at the end of his leash. I wanted to break out and attack him, to dive for his nuts and chew them off, to cut off his ass cheeks with sharp razor blades, to make his nose bleed by sticking bamboo shoots up it, and to carve my initials in his forehead with sulfuric acid. I would do anything and everything to get back at him for the terrible way he had humiliated me. It was God-awful and I wanted revenge. I steamed under that devilish passive smile I was giving him, and I longed for the day when I would leap at his throat, like some sort of Doberman Pinscher suddenly gone awry.
"But the timing, Doctor, the timing was to be everything. I had to plan my revenge so that it was both vengeful and sexual. It wouldn't do, for example, to merely shoot him in the head. It wouldn't do because he wouldn't know for a long enough period of time that he was going to die. I wanted a revenge that would debilitate him gradually, and by the time he would realize it, then it would be too late, and yet, he would suffer on for some time. I had to choose my methods carefully, and as he walked me around and around the livingroom, pulling on the choker from time to time just to let me know that the threat of pain was still real, I thought harder and gave more and more attention to this idea of revenge. Finally, the most wonderful solution of all dawned upon me.
"I gave him no cause to suspect me of wanting revenge. I pretended that all of the brutalizing and agonizing methods he'd discovered for assaulting my flesh were enjoyable to me. I pretended that his rape up my asshole was a delight, that his clothespin technique on my clitoris was nothing but pure joy; that the way he pulled my titties as if they were weeds instead of stroking them as if they were rose petals-I even pretended that it made me hot and lusty to feel that. When he grabbed my nipples and made them hurt I told him it was ecstasy. When he yanked his cock out of his pants and crammed it up my anus so that it burned inside my bowels, I gave way willingly and didn't scream a bit. I told him that he could have me like that as much as he wanted.
"One day he wanted to kick me. I invited him to break my ribs, to use his shoes and make me black and blue. I gave him plenty of opportunity to use that halter on me, too, and then, when the time was right, when I judged the moment to be appropriate, I sprinkled just the slightest bit of ground glass into his salad-a glass ground finer than any sand you could possibly see.
"I would go and ask him to fuck me in the mouth, to make me sweat with desire and to punch me with his fist, even, in the titty. I would give him a good little sucking on the shaft of his meat while he cursed and whipped me. During dinner, when he wasn't looking, I would add a dash of the invisible ground glass to his coffee or his juice-just enough that he wouldn't taste it, just enough to begin grinding in his belly.
"I would come home from work and fall down on my knees and beg him to kick and whip me some more. He would do so, and then, relieved that I was still right to do it. I prepared his dinner with just a bit more of the pulverized glass, the very same stuff which was weakening his body and making his sexual torture of my body less poignant, weaker, and less vicious. He was, daily, growing sicker, less strong, and slowly but surely, I now know, he will be giving up the use of the harness on my body. I don't regret anything, Doctor, but I wonder sometimes if I wouldn't have been better off if I had come to you first, before destroying him... I think it was too late though ... too late."
CASE NUMBER FOUR: Janet R.
"My husband's father, my father-in law, Doctor, he treated me no good. Ever since the beginning, even right after we got back from our honeymoon, he had it out for me. That was the first time, after the honeymoon, and I don't imagine I'll ever be able to forget it.
"Jack-Jack's my husband-he was running track with a friend of his when his father came by. Mr. Rottle looked funny, even when I first opened the door for him, and it was morning so I didn't think he could be drunk already. But he was. I could smell it on his breath when he stumbled passed me. He didn't wait for me to invite him in or anything. He just shoved me sideways and nearly pushed me over. I got my balance by holding onto the door which I then closed behind him.
"He wanted to know where his son was. I told him Jack was out running track and wouldn't be back for an hour. Mr. Rottle, he said that was good and started rubbing his hands together like he was washing them or something. He said it was good that his boy was gone away for an hour. Because he didn't want his son to see what was going to happen. I suspected something, but I still didn't know what he had in mind. I backed off some, to the kitchen, but it was too late.
"He got his hands on my chest and I just stood there. I said all the usual stuff while he was rubbing up and down my titties. I told him I was his daughter-in-law, and how I didn't know what to say, about how I didn't think it was a good idea and all. But I felt sorry for him, sort of, and I was kind of thinking how it would be nice if he just got himself a feel of my chest and then passed out. In fact, I kind of thought at first that he was so drunk that he would do just that, that he would grab my titties and fall down and that would be that. I could smell that sweet stuff on his breath, and I knew he had had quite a lot to drink. I just watched his hands fondling my breasts and I hoped he would get his fill and get away from me. I was lucky, at first, because it was one of the few days I'd been wearing a bra.
"After a minute or so of his rubbing on my chest that way he took to stroking on my belly. He went rubbing down along the side of my body and felt up my hips. I took my hands and put them on the backs of his hands. I was kind of trying to lead him away from me, so that he wouldn't get carried away. That's when I saw that he had a boner. I couldn't see the meat, naturally, but I could see that big bulge in his pants and there was no mistaking that cloth protrusion for anything but a mighty hefty hard one. I had my hands on the old man's and didn't know quite what to do. To tell you the truth, Doctor, the thought of that old man with an erection had sort of taken my breath away.
"Well, before I could think up what next to do, he had a hand down between my legs. I was wearing levies and he went rubbing up and down in there, between my loins, as though he were a young lover with all the technique in the world. He just seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do when he got there. For one thing he found his way to the outside of my pussy lips and his fingers took to rubbing them back and forth. And for another, he made a little pie out of my two lips. He was able to get me juicing, that's what I mean to say.
"After a minute or two he wasn't satisfied with working on the outside of my mound. I tried to push him away when he went for my belt buckle. It was one thing to have him working out on my cunt and all while I was wearing levies, but it was quite another for my own father-in-law to start thinking about putting his fingers inside the hole itself. So I tried to sidestep that old drunk man, but he grabbed me, tackled me around the waist, and we both tumbled down on the linoleum.
I didn't know whether to start laughing or crying, but the old man was pawing away at my body as if we were still standing up. He had one of his gnarled hands up at my titty, and the other was still scrubbing and scratching at my mound and up and down my loins. He was reaching through, even, and trying to grab off some of my tight ass flesh.
" 'Alright,' I said, 'this has gone far enough. You touch me anymore, grab anymore of what you have no right to be touching in the first place, and I'm going to scream. You understand? I'll scream my lungs out and the cops will come, and you and your boy will have a great deal of explaining to one another and to the community to do. Do you understand, Mr. Rottle?'
"Well, that old man just smiled those long yellow teeth of his, reached a finger up and back along the backside of his gums, like to replace his falsies or to pick something out of his molars, and then, like by surprise, he pounced on me all over again. I could hardly move from the way he had me pressed down flat on the floor. I was so shocked and taken aback by his continued advances that I forgot to follow through with my threat to scream my head off.
"Down below-talk about shock and surprise-I could feel that old man's boner. It was rubbing against my leg, and you know something, Doctor? It was stiff like a dildo is stiff, or like a young man's pecker is stiff., It wasn't soft and just a little hard the way you might expect from an old man. No sir. That thing of his was a good eight inches long and wobbling like a fence post what's almost pounded all the way in. I reached down there and started pulling on it. I just couldn't help myself. I had to get a hold of that thing, even if it meant doing something with my father-in-law that I wasn't supposed to be doing. I reached down and squeezed it..
"Oh, God, Doctor, let me just tell you that it doesn't matter one bit if a man is old or young. That's what I learned that day. Mr. Rottle's erection was just as stiff as any woman could crave. The thing was long and sturdy, sturdy like a whip handle, long like a cobra. I wanted to see it naked, and once the old man had had his fill of rubbing up and down on me, that's what we next went to. I got his belt open and pulled that big thing out of his pants. Wow, it wasn't just large and thick and hard-it was also a beautiful sight. The tip was spongy and pink, and the shaft was throbbing even before I got it completely clear of his underwear.
"He leaned down on my naked chest-I don't know how he did it, but he got my chest naked-and he started rubbing his lips all over my big long titties. He took one of his hands and kneaded the flesh of my left boob. He rubbed it up and down and squeezed it until the nipple was about as red and about as ripe as a rose bud. I thought he was going to squeeze it so hard that milk would come out of it.
'Then he pushed me down flat and he did something to me that my husband never did. He took his joint and went rubbing and sliding up and down between my two big titties, I guess Jack just hadn't got around to doing that kind of thing on my body, but his father was ready for that kind of-rubbing from the beginning.
He took to pushing his meat up and down against my creamy slopes, and it seemed like that old man, as saggy and as rickety as everything else was about him, it seemed that he could keep a hard-on for just about forever. I took to pushing my breasts up and down along the sides of his penis. And I could see how much that mushroom head of his was enjoying that. It filled with fresh hot blood and blushed crimson, just like the old man's liquor filled snout. Jesus, we were both higher than a kite!
"After that rub up between my titties, the old man went sliding down between my legs. He stuck his nose up there, right on in between my two twat lips, and he didn't think anything of getting his tongue working on the flesh of my vagina. He was just all out for it, that day, and he wasn't about to make any kind of compromise. He wanted to eat out my hole, and by God, that's what he did. He rubbed his nose and his chin and his lips in that sweet honey pot of mine, worked his face up and down against the lips and the flesh there, and then he concentrated on the clitoris. I don't know how he did it or why, but-he got his tongue flapping on my clit so hard that I thought he was using his fingers. Only I knew he wasn't using his fingers because all ten of them were up around my two titties, rubbing and squeezing my chest until it was about ready to explode with passion. He knew his way around a woman's body-that's for sure! He sure knew his way about mine, anyhow.
"Well, my juices started to flowing and stinking up the kitchen. Don't forget, we were still groveling on the floor. The old man hadn't given me time to get undressed and all and go in the bedroom or something. We were still working it out on the kitchen floor. You know what I mean? I mean there I was naked, or half-naked, with my titties hanging out of my blouse and my pants pulled down around one leg, and that old man's face was dripping clit juice and all, and we were both about as hot as a couple of teenagers parking for the first time. I mean we were huffing and puffing and trying to catch our breath while we were laying there in the middle of the linoleum.
"Well, finally we got up and went to the bedroom. On the way we undressed all together. I gave up fighting and decided I would just this once go along with whatever the old man wanted. It would be a one time thing. I wouldn't have to worry about it again. I would just fuck him this once and that would be it. I figured I could do that, and that I could forget about it.
"I spread myself out on the bedroom floor. The old man, he wanted to do it in the bed. So I climbed up off the floor. I thought maybe we could do it on the floor and save me having to change the sheets before my husband got home. But I gave in to that too. I got up on the bed.
"Well, Mr. Bottle, he knew what he wanted. First, he wanted to grease up my butt. I told him that I didn't think we had a lot of time for that. He said for me to forget about time and start getting my asshole juicy. I took the tube of oil from him and spread some of that stuff in my rear slot. I got some in there on the elastic band, my sphincter, and spread myself open a little bit.
I didn't want that big meat of his going in there cold turkey. I wanted to make sure I was lubricated, and that he was lubricated too. To take care of that I went down on him. He enjoyed getting some header from me, maybe because I was young, maybe because I'm good. I took my time and used my tongue to give him a good rubbing. It was not long before that big boner of his was blistering hot and ready to go. I could just tell, just from looking.
"He smiled at me when I looked up from his hog. I could see the old man's teeth wobbling loose. That's how excited he was. Those falsies of his were slipping because his gums were sweating. He was looking more and more like a big old horse. I wondered if he had any pizzazz left in him, or if maybe all the glue that was in his balls belonged in a bottle. He wasn't wondering about that, though. He was thinking about getting that big thick meat of his into my asshole. So I guessed that old stallion wasn't ready for retirement yet after all. A minute later he proved that for sure!
"He pulled my buns open with two hands. Then he took my hands and put my fingers down on the edges of my anal crack. He worked my fingers and showed me how to keep my tube open for him. Then he took his big meat and stuffed the tip of that thing up to the entrance of the hole. He bore down pretty hard and stuffed that cylinder of mine with all of that powerful hog head. He worked it down inside my anus and didn't stop going into me until I was completely full of him. I couldn't believe how much meat he got in there before it started hurting. I was rather impressed with my own anal abilities as well as with my father-in-law's forwardness. He knew how to press his point home in my anus, and I knew how to make all of that possible. It was a nice meaty combination.
"Pretty soon he shot off up there and that was that. I mean he just started throbbing like a stick of TNT exploding and he filled my pudding hole with jism juice. It was all over and he yanked that big long stick of his out of my ass flesh. I was a bit relieved to feel that thing clear away. It was beginning to feel more like a sword than a cock.
"Mr. Rottle lay back on the bed. I could see he was panting a mile a minute. I didn't know what to do to comfort him. I was leaning next to his arm with my titties. He indicated that maybe I should get up and wipe him with my breasts. I leaned over his body and let my two big knockers hang down low on his body. I went rubbing from side to side, caressing him with my nipples. I stroked up and back on his body, making all that sweaty flesh of the old man's about as tingly as could be. He liked it. I could tell by the smile on his face that he was enjoying himself. I went stroking that way for about a half-hour, it seemed, up and down his old body until he was quieted down and breathing more naturally.
"It was only natural, too, that I ended up next to his balls. I worked around them with my titties. Then, when the temptation got to be too much for me, I took to using my tongue on that thing. It was a big long flesh stick and I couldn't keep from going down on it. I rubbed my tongue up and down on that thing. I worked my mouth muscle around the rim of that organ, and then I took to rubbing it around the base of the shaft. I kissed the balls and I worked my face in and out of his crotch. It was a lot of fun getting going on the underside of the shaft, too. And I was sure to spread my tongue out across the top of his dick, also. I rubbed and gave him some of the nicest header he ever got. To finish things off I took the whole big cap inside my mouth and sucked really hard, rubbed and sucked. Pretty soon he was about as erect, his muscle was about as stiff, and there were about as many chills going up and down that old man's belly as could be. He was hot for it, Doctor, and I was ready to enjoy it, too.
"It wasn't like when we first started, when I was afraid and worried about being raped and all. This was me, Janet Rottle, and I was doing as much as I could to enjoy myself as much as the old man. It was really something.
"I started out by climbing up on that second boner. I got up there on top of the old man and leaned down close to him so that my titties were squashed flat on his chest. And I worked my rump up and down and he got a finger in there, just to make sure. And my twat was full of his cock meat, all up to the brim, chocked full. I rubbed and squeezed on that big hard-on muscle of his until there was no way that the old man could keep from shooting off like a Bicentennial Roman Candle Fuck Stick. Mmmmm, it was good, Doc. Super fucking terrific good! I loved every squirt.
"But then came the sad part. After the old man shot off inside me, and after we changed the sheets and everything, and we were laughing about what a good time we were having and all that kind of thing, then, all of a sudden, we both looked up at the same time. We saw Jack, my husband Jack, and Mr. Rottle's son, he was standing there looking at the bedroom window and we didn't know how long he had been watching us. We were both dressed now, but that had only been for a minute or so. Jack came stomping into the house from the back door and Mr. Rottle went out to meet his son who was awfully angry and I stayed behind in the bedroom, hoping and praying that I wouldn't be beaten to death.
"A minute later I heard the two of them yelling and carrying on. Now Mr. Rottle, he might have been a match for me in bed, but he certainly wasn't any kind of a match for his son in a fist-fight. I heard some lamp go crashing, and there was the shatter of glass on the kitchen floor, on that rubber linoleum, and I went running. What I saw was terrible and Godawful. Mr. Rottle was on the floor and his son was holding a lamp base up in the air and he was about to hammer his own father's head with it. Mr. Rottle was shouting at Jack: 'Go on, go on and do it you chicken-livered lilly-faced, snooty little wart nosed...' And he was taunting his son, telling, him that he could try and kill him if he wanted, if he dared, and I went dragging myself across that room as fast as I could and couldn't get that lamp out of Jack's hand, but I was able to stop him from clouting his Daddy. I told him that everything that happened between me and his father was entirely my fault, and that if he wanted to go beating on someone, it was me he could beat on. Because I was the sinner.
"Jack, he climbed up off the old man and glared at me. I told him again that he could beat me up any way he saw fit. He pushed me backwards and then he pushed me again. He kept shoving me like that, using both of his hands and pushing me on the titties. He pushed me backwards down the hallway and shoved me onto the bed. He took his running shorts off and didn't say a word. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen now. He was going to punish me no matter what I said. So I just laid there and waited for whatever it was he was going to do to me to get even.
"Pretty soon he was naked and that big muscle of his was hanging down limp like old spaghetti. He told me to get down on the floor and to suck him off until he was hard. I asked him if I couldn't tell him something so he looked at me and then smacked my face. I nearly started crying. When I started to yell at him he grabbed me around the neck and dragged me from the bed like a mutt. He shoved me down on the ground in front of him and made me take his penis in my face. I would have done it anyway, but he wanted to force me, to carry on and make it be something humiliating. I took his prick in my mouth and thought about how I could bite it off if I wanted to. I could just bite it off and end it all for both of us.
"But I didn't. I just licked it. I pressed my titties up against his thighs and took hold of the base of the shaft with my two hands and I took the meat inside my mouth and rubbed with my lips and my tongue. He was holding my head by my hair, my long silky blonde hair, gathered up in his fist so he could make my face go in any direction at once on his hog boner. I didn't want to have to do it that way, but he was rather insistent about it. I just let him work my face up and down on the shaft of his meat as much as he liked. He made me work on his joint tip that way for about ten minutes. When he was finally hard he took me by my hair and pulled my face off of his tool. I wondered where my father-in-law was right then, if he was still decked out in the kitchen.
"Jack wrapped his hands around my face and told me in a really soft sadistic whisper he was going to let me loose, but that if I didn't do as he said he would really hurt me bad. He let go of my face. He told me he wanted me to go licking in his asshole. I told him that I didn't want to do that. He grabbed me around the back of the neck and he squeezed me really hard. He told me that he would strangle me if I didn't eat out his anus. I said alright.
"He got down on his hands and knees. He spread his buns and I looked at that brown anus. I didn't want to put my tongue in there. But he was making me do it. I didn't have any choice. I measured the distance from the bed to the door. I figured that if I moved at top-speed, as fast as I could go, I would be able to get to the end of the hallway before he would catch up with me. But then he would have me again. I would have to wait until I could reach the street, until I could run naked into the streets and scream out rape until the police came. I was frightened. I looked back between his buns. The hole was still there, and then, in a moment of terrible disgust, I leaned down and put my tongue to my husband's asshole. There was no taste at all, but there was the smell of his sweat from his track running earlier in the morning. I licked him for a while and then he turned around and grabbed me by the hair again.
"He picked me up that way, nearly uprooting a lock the size of his fist. He dragged me into the bathroom and made me wash my mouth with soap and water. Then he thrust me down over his knees and fisted a nozzle from the douch bag into my anus. He filled the rubber sack with hot water and screwed it into the tube. Then he squeezed and filled me full of that liquid. Jesus, I thought my bowels were going to turn into the Hindenberg Blimp. I thought I was going to burst into flames. Just when I couldn't take any more he picked me up from his thighs and pushed me into the tub. The water was leaking out of my asshole when he put on the shower. At first it was entirely cold spray of water, and then it went hot and bubbly. I was momentarily relaxed to have that juice out of my bowels and a refreshing rain of clean water coming down on my skin. It was good. For an instant I was able actually to forget about what it was like to be punished for sleeping with my father-in-law.
"But a moment later Jack's big hand reached into the shower and grabbed me by the hair: 'We're not done yet, bitch,' he said, and he literally yanked me right out of the tub. He thrust me down in the hallway and I was still dripping wet. I was getting a little turned on from the treatment, not because I liked be- ing thrown around, but because I liked the idea of not having any control over my body. Sometimes when I masturbate I think up things like that, about not having any control over what's happening to me. And this punishment from my husband for cheating with his father was just like that. I didn't have any say about what was going on. It was, in some ways, a lot like my fantasies.
"Anyhow, he took me into the bedroom by pulling on my hand before I could get to my feet. He dragged me like that and pushed me down on the floor. There in the bedroom he told me to suck him off some more. I took his joint in my two hands and rubbed up and down on the tip with my tongue. I licked him and sucked on the mushroom crown until it was bursting with red heat. Then he took my face off his pecker and shoved me down on my belly.
"He mounted my twat from the rear, between the backs of my legs. His long studly meat stuffed my hole very hard. That mushroom head went pounding up inside there where his father's pecker had been an hour before. Of course, although I didn't mention it before, I was careful to clean myself while I was showering, so there was no chance of there being anything but a fresh pie left for my husband. I didn't want him to blow-up and get mad at me all over again.
"Once he got his meat inside my tube Jack couldn't help but calm down a little. He wasn't nearly so angry, and his mood was getting better and better all the time. I started rocking on that stick of his, rocking and rubbing on it. Gradually, that big long hard-on went all the way up inside my hole, so far inside me that I could feel it banging away at the back wall of my pussy. It was like some sort of pneumatic drill had been applied to the inside of my body, and it wasn't going to stop until it hit pay dirt. I loved the feel of that heady thing as it jacked me up into the land of ecstasy, even despite the feeling of anger which prompted its insertion. I didn't mind that so much, though, since my clitoris was getting damn hard and since the juices secreted by my interior flesh were getting awfully slick and were oozing plentifully, like a gushing, bubbling water fall. I was getting really hot, Doctor, and it was a good feel, even though Jack hadn't intended it that way. I know for sure that he had only wanted to punish me.
"So I tried to keep from yelling out, tried to keep from letting my blush show because I knew that it would make him even more angry with me if he saw what a good time I was having, how hot he was making me with that stick of his. I thought for a minute there that I might even cum from the feel of that joint of his rubbing inside my twat hole. I wanted to cum because that would make everything just about perfect in some strange way.
"But Jack, before I had a chance to climb the ecstasy ladder all the way to the top, he pulled his meat out and shoved it into my asshole. I was a little bit surprised and stupified by that, because I hadn't expected such a move at all from him, but there it was, that big hard joint of his all the way up inside my bowels and that mushroom head was tickling my insides. Jesus, he got it right in there as if he hadn't even had to think about it. He just shoved it right up inside and took it for granted. I wondered what he would think when he found out my asshole was stretching out wide and was going to get worn out...
"About a minute later he was pumping cum into my body, in the back hole. He was throbbing and squirting off, and he wasn't even thinking about me at all. He was just pounding away, filling me up and flooding my hole with all of that hot cum juice of his. I loved it, loved the feel of that super dick spray and couldn't get over how hot I was getting even despite the fact that I wasn't supposed to be enjoying myself.
"When it was all over we all three of us, my father-in-law and Jack and me had a little talk. We decided that it wasn't a good idea for us to go beating up on one another. I fixed my father-in-law's cut eyebrow while Jack lectured on the merits of peace. We all three decided that there was no reason for us to be jealous of each other, and that I could sleep with either my husband or the old man, whoever I wanted, just so long as it was all out in the open and all. I didn't like the idea all that much because I knew that Jack was just pretending to be ahppy about the way things were working out. Really he was still pissed off that I had fooled around at all, especially so soon after we were just married.
"Well, it wasn't but about five days later when Mr. Rottle came around again. Only this time he came around when he Jack would be away for more than an hour and he wasn't drunk, either. He came in without knocking and he found me in a slightly compromising position. I was spread out on the livingroom sofa and I had one leg lifted up so that my loin was showing, and I had my other leg stretched out so that I could rub it nice with my left hand. I had my housecoat open around my titties and around my hips so I could get to my nipples and my cunt really easy. It, was obvious what I was doing as soon as Mr. Rottle stepped in the door. So I didn't make any effort to cover it up, neither. He smiled at me and I told him that I wished he would knock before he came barging into the house like that. And I pulled the coat closed around my boobies and my legs.
"Mr. Rottle was wearing a baseball cap and he took it off of his head and slapped his knee with it and cackled: 'Looks like I'm just in the nick of time, don't it?!!' He pulled up a cushion right next to where I was spread out on that sofa and started feeling me up on my chest. 'Listen,' I said, 'Just because you found me here and just because I happen to be a little bit vulnerable, as they say, that doesn't give you cause to go rubbing my body any which way you see fit, old man. Do you understand?' I reached up onto my chest and took his hand off my nipple. He was taking to rubbing my breast with his palm. Not that I minded it so much-it wasn't that at all. I just wanted to have some say in the matter. And anyhow, my nipples were just about as hard and cherry red as they were going to be and there wasn't any reason to overdo them.
"Mr. Rottle wasn't terribly put off by my gesture. He took his other hand and reached down between my legs and said very sarcastically: 'May I?' He laughed a bit and I spread my legs with a chuckle. His finger went sliding down on my clitoris which I had just gotten a little bit hard before he came bursting into the livingroom. 'I see that you know where to pick up and get going,' I whispered in the old man's ear. 'I like that'
" 'After all these years,' said Mr. Rottle, 'I guess I ought to know where a woman likes to be rubbed and how often, eh?' He smiled and kept flicking my clit up and down with his old yellowed finger. You could see his knuckles there, sticking out and all, the way they do on old people's fingers. He had spots, like big freckles, and large brown and yellow ones, too, on his hands, and I kind of liked to watch the tendons and the sinewy part of his wrist get to moving while his digits were fluttering and performing their magic on my little clit flesh knob. It was quite a nice little thrill, and he was very, very astute about having said he was right on time. It was absolutely the truth.
"Now I wasn't the only one getting turned on right there on that sofa. Mr. Rottle's boner was sticking up in his pants and making a God-awful bulge in them. It looked like he had a little bird caged up in his trousers, some sort of a mouse hiding in there. I reached down and gave the 'creature' a kind of gentle pat on the head, just to let him know that we could be friends if he wanted to. I went sliding my palm up and down on my father-in-law's pants until that bulge turned into a balloon. Then I unsnapped the trousers altogether and pulled down the cotton drawers inside so that I could get to the heart of the matter, which wasn't heart at all. But it was one-hundred per cent, grade A, prime tenderloin, just like I remembered it from five days before. Mmmmmm, it was a sight for sore eyes!
"I yanked that thing out of his pants and before my father-in-law could say lickety-split I had his banger device inside my mouth. My tongue was slurping it up, rubbing and rolling across the head of that meat, giving that flesh arrow-head all the sucking and sexual stimulation it could possibly use. Mr. Rottle started breathing awfully hard, too, and it wasn't long before I thought he was having a coronary or something. That was all I needed, for that old man to drop dead while I was sucking him off. No sir, I didn't want that so I slowed up and told him to catch his breath and take ita little easy, to take things just a little slow. He smiled at me, and winced abit, and I saw that I was right, that he did need a little break, but even after a couple of seconds of that he was ready to go back down to eating me out, ready for me to finish with my oral coitus on his boner.
" 'Listen, old man,' I explained, 'I love to give you a good blow-job and all that kind of thing, but you have to take it easy. Look at you, you're sweating and perspiring all over. And you got a blush on you the envy of a rose petal. You're blood red and wet to-boot and still you want me to keep sucking on that spongy mushroom head?!? You'll drop dead before the second squirt pops out of there! You take it slow for a minute or two, and then I'l even give you some hum job. How's that sound?'
"He nodded and caught his breath some. Maybe it was the promise of more exotic sex, but he was now willing to sit back and rest for a bit. I did him a favor, just to keep his meat upright while he was sitting there, and I locked the doors and put on some music. I started doing a little dance, waddling around in the livingroom and showing him my wares. Not that he didn't know me pretty well already-don't get me wrong. But I wanted to keep him hot and lusty, and I wanted to try out something new, that dancing bit. So I spread my legs to a bouncy little rhythm and waddled here and there up and down the livingroom. Pretty soon the old man was calmed down but he was bug-eyed at same time. He was still hot, but he wasn't panting like a marathon runner in the last quarter mile. He was getting ready for just a little more rubbing and sucking. Then I would give him the final hum-down to fuck-time!
"So I danced my way over to where he was sitting, and I made my titties go swinging in little circles. He liked to watch the nipples bouncing around, and I kind of liked to see his big eyes popping out of his head that way. He watched me moving around like that, and then I landed my two legs around his thigh. I limbered up around that leg of his and rubbed my mound nearly into his face. Then I danced backwards off the old man's thigh and spread myself down onto his joint. I gave him the humming he deserved. Pretty soon his meat was ready for a dive in my pool.
"I brought him down on the floor with me and had him poke that huge muscle in place inside my jam device. It didn't take much to cleave me wide open. I enjoyed that muscle of his the way a fresh piece of earth loves the scythe. It was a perfect combination, and it only took me about five minutes to get cuming in little spurts while the old man was waiting it out for the big orgasm action. He didn't have to wait but a minute longer because when I saw how hot and horny he was right then I took to squeezing with my interior fleshy muscles. And before long I had a good hold on the mushroom head of the old man's cock, and there wasn't anything he could do anymore to control the big surge of passion which was passing through his body like a wave of electric shock. He juiced off inside me, and he very nearly flooded the whole canal out. A minute later we were asleep in each other's arms. It was a very nice fuck indeed!
"The next day, when Jack came home from work, he told me that he was surprised, the previous afternoon, to have seen his Daddy so happy. He didn't know what it was, Jack said, but there was some kind of cheerful look in his face. He wondered if maybe his old man had some sort of new girl friend that nobody knew anything about. Knowing that my husband was just hinting around for me to say something, I merely continued to wash the dishes as if everything was completely normal. After all, our deal was that if I fucked around I would tell him about it. And I hadn't, so I stood to be in a bit of trouble.
"But that night in bed I found out that his worries had been put to rest. He told me so himself. I was happy that I could smile to myself in the dark and not be found out. It was kind of nice to know something that my husband didn't know. And it was very nice to be done with all the punishment action he'd been meteing out for me in the previous week. Now we were going to have some love-making, the kind of lusty action for which I married Jack in the first place.
"He took me in his arms and pulled me close to him. He rubbed his big young member against the side of my leg. pushed his meat up tight against my crotch and went rubbing in my pubic forest. I liked the feel of that spongy head growing while it was grinding. It felt good to be useful for my hubby. Pretty soon my twat lips were leaking and drooling. There is no stopping me once that starts happening. Seeing that Jack's bone was about as erect and as stiff as it was going to be, I decided it was time to get up on it and give myself a stirring.
"I pushed him onto his back and a minute later I had him throbbing off up inside my hole. It was a first class fucking. I rocked and rolled on that hammering phallus, rubbed myself and my clit especially into a lather of passion. A minute more and I was cuming and so was Jack.
"Wasn't but a week after that when my father-in-law and I had made up a regular appointment time. Nowadays I fuck Jack on the even days and Mr. Rottle on the odd ones. Sometimes I get caught, but I still don't tell Jack about my fooling around. I always promise to love just his hog, just his balls and his asshole, but that isn't really possible. I also promise I will tell him if I'm going to cheat and fuck with some other man's rod. I don't do that, don't tell him about it. I just go ahead, And if I get caught, then I suffer the consequences, I don't like getting beat, but I can't understand what good it would do to get beat up in advance. Did I ever tell you about the mailman and how I got away with it with him one day? It was nice because he really knew how to eat my pie. Now how could I have told Jack about that in advance? I didn't even know myself that I was going to have some nice 69 with that man until..."
CASE NUMBER FIVE: Barbara T.
"Well, Doctor, I met my husband at a cafe in Venice. It was a sleazy little joint with the paint chipping off the walls. But the tips were good, and for a two-time loser like me, a job as a waitress and the chance to meet a few people-well, I couldn't very well pass it up. And besides, it worked out pretty good for a while. Because in that cafe, that's where I met Chuck.
"I think I knew the minute he walked in that I was going to fall for him, fall for him and fall in love and fall head over heels and maybe never get up again. He just had that look on his face. He was wearing a beard at the time, and he had hair down to his shoulder. So do I, have hair down to my shoulders, and I have a beard, but it's not on my face .. . Just a little funny, a little comic relief, Doctor. Forgive me ...
"Anyhow, I was clearing a table and I looked up and there he was. Chuck was always one of my favorite names, and when I asked one of the other girls what his name was I nearly fell over dead right then. I mean, wow, there he was, a man of my dreams with my favorite dream-man name, Chuck, and there he was just sitting there eating his hamburger and all. I was really flippy for him, if you know what I mean. It was what when I was a kid I would have called a crush. I just really wanted to get it on with him, and there wasn't anything was going to stop me. I went into the bathroom and made myself pretty, and then I went over and just sat right down next to him.
" 'I hear they call you Chuck, man,' I said, really up front and all. I pushed my chest out at him so that he could tell I wasn't kidding around. You know what I mean? He could see my nipples, if he looked, and I sure was glad that I was wearing a net blouse that day, because I was happy like a lark is happy that this dude could see my chest, my big bare chest, because some men say it's my best asset and I wanted to use all the big guns at once to make sure I got this guy to ask me for my phone number and all. After all, man, his name was Chuck and I just had to find out if he was from Venice or the Valley or what. I really did want a piece of that tail of his.
"I know some girls don't like to talk about their men that way but I like to talk about my men like they're meat. You know what I mean, Doctor? I mean, Chuck, he was just so super looking and all, I couldn't keep from thinking about what it would be like to have his meat going inside me, making me hot and horny and all. Oh, God damn I wanted that dude to FUCK me!
"Anyhow, I reached under the table, and I said, 'Hey, man, maybe you and I could get it on?' I stroked down the inside of his leg and I got to his crotch. With one hand I worked on that organ of his, even though it was buried in his pants and all, but with the other I did the important stuff: I wrote down my name and my phone number so he would call me and really get to work on it.
"Well, after that muscle of his took on some form and all, and after I saw that I was really interrupting his meal, and also there were other customers, I got up from his table and went over to the other side of the cafe and back to work. I didn't forget about him, but I had to ignore that itch getting going in my box because I had so much work to tend to. But before I knew it my shift was over and I was sitting down at a table counting my tips. Wouldn't you know it? Who came up and started rapping to me? It was Chuck! Isn't that far out, man? I mean REALLY!
"Well, he put one boot up on a chair across from me and leaned down on his knee and said, 'I sure would like to get it on with you, Barbara,' and he smiled and waited for me to say something back to him. I just kept counting my money and tried to keep from looking up alongside his leg, which I had done a minute before and I seen that he still had that big bulge there in his pants. After I took that pause I looked up at him and smiled. "I think I said that before,' I told him. 'Yes,' he said, 'and now ifs time to get things going for real, honey.' '
" 'Not here,' I said, picking up my purse and scooping my money into it. 'My place.' I smiled and led the way. I said goodbye to everyone and felt Chuck's hand slide down on my firm buns on the way out of the cafe.
"It seemed like it took us forever to get back to my apartment which was only just down the block and upstairs over the boardwalk. But once we got there, well, everything happened pretty quick.
"No sooner were we inside, and no sooner had I put my purse down when I turned around and he took me in his arms. He whispered something and I think he said he was into making me his slave. I didn't know for sure what he meant by that, but he could kiss so good that I didn't care. He gave me his whole tongue, all the way down my throat, and I reached for his cock thinking that maybe he would like some header. Pretty soon I slid down on my knees and pulled that precious piece of steak beef out of his pants. It was longer even than I thought it would be, and I knew for sure that this dude Chuck was a much better prize than me and my lady friends had ever imagined.
" 'Oh, gee,' he said that first time, 'you don't have to do that if you don't want to,' and he grabbed me by the back of the head and slammed his joint into my face. I traveled on it with my tongue. I licked the head, and I made a point of sucking off the root. From there I went to his balls. Giving him a kiss here and a Frencher there, I took care of his scrotum. Pretty soon goose bumps popped up. On his thighs a whole crop grew. On his butt end there was a chill. I rubbed his two cheeks while I continued using his joint for a mouth dildo. It was an A-l foreplay action for the two of us. We both knew our ways around.
"Well, we hadn't been in bed for more than five minutes when that dude slammed his rod up into my cunt. He'd spent that previous five minutes, by the way, eating me out. That was something I had enjoyed immensely. After work there's nothing can relax me as well as a good chew on my clit. He gave it to me, too. He rubbed and sucked and took his time getting me hot and juicy, as tender as a little piece of fried clam. Then he took that hog head of his and bored into me like I was cement and he was a jackhammer.
"Feeling that hefty tempered flesh as it rode through my tunnel, I had a sudden feeling that I was going to marry that dude. I don't know how I knew, I just did. I knew from the feel of his rod, the way that piston of meat grinded inside my body, the way that big hunk of hard-on took away my feeling of emptiness. I knew that Chuck was the man for me-for me and my cunt.
"It wasn't but a few days later when we married. It was quick and easy, and for our honeymoon we went to Mexico. When we got back, we were so tired out from fucking and sucking that Chuck had to take a little vacation and I had to go easy on my work schedule at the cafe. But finally we were back in shape and it happened again: we were about to make love and Chuck whispered in my ear: I'm going to make you my slave.'
"I tried to pay it no mind, but the next day, after I came home from work and was dead tired, I wanted to take a quick shower and go to sleep. But Chuck told me that the shower was alright, the sleep was not. I asked him what he meant and he told me to take a shower and he would show me. He just sat there at the kitchen table-we were living in my place; it turned out he didn't own a house or anything-and he just stared at me undressing. I told him not to watch, but that didn't make any difference to him. He kept looking at me. Finally, I went into the bathroom wearing my underwear.
"I checked myself out in the mirror, just to be sure I was still in one piece. I guess I was nineteen or twenty at the time. Let's see, if I got married for a year when I was seventeen, and then for a year when I was eighteen.. . yup, I was nineteen. Anyhow, I was happy with my inspection to discover that everything was in order. My titties were firm, my nipples were cherry-colored and upright and ready for sex at all times. My cunt was leaking a little ooze, just in case, and my fanny was as tight as on the day I was born. My legs were long, shapely, smooth. Who could ask for more?
"I climbed over the edge of the tub and went right to work scrubbing myself down with soap and water. I was dead tired and the shower was working wonders on my flesh. Pretty soon I felt a friendly little chill starting up between my loins, nothing spectacular, just a reminder of what was possible were I not so fagged from work. But the water and the soap all got together and kind of conspired against me, or with me, or whatever you want to say. I found myself unable to resist the temptation to go sliding a finger up and down across my little clitoris. I had to rub myself hard. It didn't take long, and that thing was upright, ready for fucking with. I pinched it off, even in the downpour from the hot spraying shower water, and pretty soon I was huffing and puffing and ready to blow just about every cock in the building. I cried out for Chuck to come into the shower and give me a taste of his thing.
"Well, he came in there alright, and he got undressed, but he was carrying something with him. He had it over his shoulder. It looked like one of those grey hound harnesses that they use at the dog races. It was made out of leather and metal studs. He brought it with him into the shower. I asked him what that thing was for, but he didn't answer. He just leaned forward and put his face close to mine and said: 'I want to make you my slave.'
"I got chills even though I wasn't cold. I couldn't figure out what he was thinking on to be talking that way. I reached down between his legs, though, because I knew for sure what I wanted from him. I got a hold on his developing boner and took to rubbing it with slippery soap and water. My fingers were everywhere at once, massaging the tip, rubbing at the base, working his tender loins and sliding up and down between his buns every now and again just to add spice.
"Suddenly, as if from nowhere, he pulled out that leather contraption and wrapped it around my neck and shoulders. At first I didn't mind because I was enjoying myself on his joint. I was getting that big mea even thicker than God thought it could be made, and was getting the head as puffy as the Devil's spear. I was going to be one hell of a good rubbing, as far as was concerned, and yet, Chuck was still intent on playing with this leather thing.
"He had the halter over my bare wet shoulders and he was getting the straps which wrapped around my chest into place. He tied them off in silver buckle which clasped to the back of the thing. He did this b reaching around behind me while I continued to work on his tender boner. 'Chuck,' I asked him, 'you thin you really need to use this leather brace on me?' He just laughed or something, and then stroked a ham down around my buns. He'd finished lacing up the to part of that ugly binding piece of leather.
"My titties felt the pinch of the straps. One boob was flopping uncomfortably over the strap below it. I asked Chuck if he couldn't adjust that piece of the thing so that I would be a little more at ease. He laughed am said that he didn't think that I really understood the purpose of such a leather machine. I told him that I supposed I didn't understand the purpose but that given a chance I would be glad to try it out. He reached behind me and shut down the water. He told me that very shortly I would have such a chance.
"I don't know why-I was giving him a nice friendly hand-job-he pulled away from me and stepped out over the tub. When he did that my titties hurt more from the straps which bound them on top and bottom.
" 'Watch it!" I exclaimed at him, and I reached out and grabbed that piece of the leather halter which extended from between my two titties and was held by Chuck's pulling fist. I grabbed onto the leather, so as to slacken its leash like effect, and said: 'You'll hurt me if you're not careful.' Chuck snorted at me, slapped my hands away from the piece of binding leather, and pulled on it again. That choker strap yanked a pinch into my titties that I will never forget. Suddenly, I knew what he had meant when he said he was going to make me his slave. He'd done it, and the whole idea was tied up with pain.
" 'Oh, God, no!' I hollered but it was too late. He pulled on the choker and I had no choice but to follow him. He led me, like the monkey grinder leads that poor unfortunate little ape, over the side of the tub, out of the bathroom and into our small livingroom. He made me go in a circle by jerking the choker strap every time I didn't follow him just the way he wanted me to. Doctor, I can't tell you how frightened I was. And then I realized that there was still one other set of straps dangling from the main leash, another second half of the halter which remained unattached to whatever part of my body it was presumably designed for. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Meanwhile, Chuck was laughing and snorting directions at me. 'Stand up, sit down, crawl, laugh, cry, bend over, give me head ...' It didn't matter what he said. I had to do it or suffer the consequences. He knew just how to control me, how to make that leash hurt me without leaving a mark, how to make me suffer and then appreciate him for letting me out of the painful grip of that tight harness. I was, slowly but surely, becoming my husband's servant, his dutiful slave.
"He made me lay down in the bedroom. I wasn't, at first, so afraid of what he would do to me in there. He tied the back of the halter to the head of the bed. I was stretched wide open at the legs, and it was then that I discovered the purpose of that formerly unattached section of the leather contraption. It's sole function was to tie my legs open, to spread my smooth loins, to keep my twat at bay for Chuck's use in whatever fashion he might see fit. I was to be at his beck and call. That was the method of this slavery business. I started to scream and no sooner had my mouth opened when a large gauze ball, the size of a baseball, was slammed into my open face. I couldn't believe that my new husband had thought of everything, all the way down to the gag.
"There I was: nude, gagged, bound, tied open, my twat clamped back at the lips, my titties held in place. I operated about as much on my own free will as the turkey on a Thanks Giving Dinner table. All that was needed was the Candied Apple, and I had a hunch that my new husband was preparing to supply me with something similar.
"I looked to my right and he was sitting in a chair staring at me. He was looking first at my feet, which were spread and attached to the bed posts at the foot of the bed. He was scanning upwards along the sides of my long comely thighs. He was inspecting my captured hips, my open twat, my smooth belly and my upright breasts. He was looking at me like a voyeur. This obviously, was a side of the Chuck I met at the cafe, which I had never seen before. It was a hideous, fearful thing for me to look on my naked drooling husband and discover that he had no interest in getting me hot by fucking me, but that his real method was in tying me up and making me his slave, making him my master.
"If my intuited notion of the matter was not enough for my already psyched-out brain, then the sight of him rubbing his prick up and down with his own hands while he stared with a glaze over his eyes at my strapped and bound and suffering flesh-that was enough of a vision to convince me that I was in some kind of trouble.
"But it wasn't enough to realize that I was in trouble. I had to use my instincts to get out of trouble. I was bound and couldn't move. I was tied up and unable to do anything except think and breathe. I couldn't even wiggle my toes without calling attention to the fact that I was bound around my breasts. Everything was attached to everything else. If I struggled with my right hand, the strap binding my left loin impinged on my flesh. It was a terrifying bind to be in, one that I doubted I would exit without damage to my body. But I had to try.
"First I made noises through the gauze gag. I hoped to get Chuck's attention, and finally I did: He came over and made me promise that I wouldn't utter a sound if he took the gag out of my mouth. I nodded and he removed that suffocating rag from inside my face. Oh, God, what a relief that was. I felt like I was halfway free of this terrible bondage already.
"He explained his plans to me. He intended to tickle me with his fingers in my pussy. He wanted to feel me gush from prestidigitation. Then he was going to jam his own flesh wand up inside me and make me cum again. Finally, if I was still in my right mind after that, he was going to turn the entire leather apparatus over, including me, and attack my asshole with his sturdy flesh prong. It would be for him the third assault, and if the cuming up my anus didn't convince me who was boss, then he would pull out a dildo and literally shake some sense into my body. Following that vibratory masturbation, he planned to use a whip on me, a long leather whip which at the handle had the thickness of a billy club and at the cracking end was about the size of a needle. I was quite scared of all of the things he had in mind, especially the last. But to make things work out for my best advantage I pretended that this was the treatment I had long been waiting for.
"You're surprised, Doctor? It was my only chance for escape. I told my crazy husband I was beginning to think he would never get around to tying me up, that he was not the man, I feared, I thought he was. I told him, even as he drew out the whip which he must have hidden under the bed weeks before, that I had been considering leaving him and that now, now that he had shown me what I wanted to see, now I knew that we would be living happily ever after with one another. Finally, I begged him, begged him with all the heart-felt sadness I could conjure up with my voice alone, prayed and begged of him that he would begin not with the easy and pleasurable frontal attack, but rather that he would inject my anus with his sword of vengeance, that he would begin by turning me over and firing up his wand inside my asshole. Then, I boldly suggested, I wanted THE WHIP! For only that lovely black leather tool and strap-tail could possibly give me the ultimate pleasure, the final pain, the perfect ecstasy for which my soul craved. I pleaded with him, begged and pleaded, Doctor, that he turn me over, twist me upside down and make me with his pecker in my asshole and then shove it in again and again, and following that, that he stroke me within an inch of my life by whipping me with his beautiful tool-strap.
"He was, to say the least, dumbfounded. He stood there not believing his eyes, I'm sure, or his ears. For his young wife was begging him for exactly the kind of thing he wanted, longed to give her. He didn't know whether to fall down on his knees and cry, or to start whipping me for being such an out and out liar. He couldn't tell if I was giving him a line or what. I would have cracked up, started laughing, if my life had not been in danger. Finally, he decided. He came over by my face and sat down on the bed. His boner was only inches from my mouth. He told me that at long last he had met a woman he could love. He started undoing my bonds so that he could turn me over and whip the shit out of me. He undid my hands first and then started on my feet. When both sets of my limbs were free to move, he looked up.
"Imagine the startled expression on that poor dumb beast's face when he saw that I held a silver pistol, a thirty-eight, which I had fetched from behind the books on the bookshelf directly above my head. My second husband, a paranoiac, had kept it there. I cocked the hammer back with my thumb to make Chuck deadly aware that I meant business. He stood off and away from the bed and I through off what remained attached of that ghastly leather harness.
"Chuck stammered at me: 'But I thought ... I thought you were.. .You bitch. . . You fucking asshole bitch.. . It's because of women like you that I am the way I am, that I get off on... You fucking whore...' And so forth. He carried on that way as I kept the silver pistol aimed at him and dressed casually as if I were going for a mere stroll on the pier.
"It was a half-hour later that the police brought me here to talk to you. Here's the gun. You can have it now. Now that I've told you the story you can take the gun from me. I hope you won't think, even for a minute, that I have any intention of going back to my third husband. If you like, however, I'll tell you the story of my other two marriages, about how..."
CASE NUMBER SIX: Cordelia L.
"I married an artist, Doctor. God save me!
"He thinks that I'm a tramp, a lowly prairie rat of some sort. The morning when he wakes and doesn't kick me, doesn't brutalize my body-on that day I celebrate.
"Some women envy me my husband. I would give anything for divorce. Do you know that you are the third psychiatraist I have seen, all of you coming to the same conclusion every time: leave the man. But I can't, good Doctor. I just can't. Maybe it's the shape of his bone, or the size of his balls-those big rock hard nuggets of his. Or maybe it's the way he uses his cock and balls to make me happy. Do you know that no other man fucked me ever the way this husband of mine does? And I have had limitless experience, Doctor! Absolutely limitless!
"Thanks to my father who was often changing jobs and seldom prone to living in only one country at a time, I experienced the hot cocks of the French, the thick wet lips of the Japanese, the splendid rigid muscles of the German. I have been held in the arms of a Lebanese man who went out to kill dozens after stabbing me with his meat, and I have been eaten out by the Swedish bar keep who only knew me for five minutes before telling me that he was willing to leave his wife and children. I have been around, Doctor, even though I am only twenty-two years old, and I know the difference between a good muscled bird flying up my tunnel and a one-winged wounded sparrow. And my artist husband-he is, as they say in the Southwest, A REAL STUD!
"I love to have that meat of his sandwiched between my two wet twat lips. Do you know what I mean? He doesn't just put it in there, either. He slides it down my holster, into the flesh sheath, the way a nobleman places his sword in its proper wrack. He gently, but steadily presses the blade of that marvellous honed piece of flesh into my pelvic slipper. It is a graceful filling up of my body, and I love him a thousand times more upon the second stroke.
"I could tell you about how he holds me in his arms.
He presses his hands down around my buns, my globular cheeks, and he rubs a finger up into my asshole. I loved the feel of that digit pressing my tube open and closed. It was made for a finger such as my artist-husband is willing to provide. (Did I tell you that his name was Peter? That he was American and lived many years in France? That he paints like another Picasso? Well, it makes no difference, really. It is all irrelevant. I love him just for the way he fucks. His brain, his fingers and the brushes they toss about-unimportant when compared with the way he socks his muscle down my-hole. That is what really counts, and that is why I am with Peter at all!)
"Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yes, the matter of his finger stuffing my anus. He does that with the same degree of perfection that a lithographer inscribes the swirl on a plate for a thousand dollar bill. He is a perfectionist and he does so without trying. It comes natural for him to be the most extraordinary lover I have ever met. To have this man eyeball my legs is enough to start up my clit juice pump. To feel his glance upon the small of my back is to go into a tizzy, a swoon, a veritable faint. He strokes as he looks, he loves as he glances. He is an artist and you feel his eyes the way you feel some men's tongues or fingers. His pierce, this stab-it comes as much from his gaze as it does from his powerful penis.
"Perhaps you think that I am describing a very strange medly of a man's character attributes. But let me be clear: as much as Peter is able to satisfy, to be gentle with his jumbo joint-multiplied by a hundred thousand, that is his ability to be the consummate sadist, the ultimate fiend! I fear no man more than this, my loving husband. Here, inspect his picture, Doctor. Look at him and see if you don't see in those dark eyes and that jet black hair the figure of a countenance gone awry. Is he not Satan himself? Can't you see him pitching the fork into my body and twisting it until I am forced to cradle Death in my arms. rather than live on in a hopelessly painful Life? Look at his jaw, the sharp edged flesh of that figure, the cut of his teeth, the way they chisel down to a fine, razor sharp edge. You think I imagine it? You think, I have conjured up a phantom of some sort.
"Here, look here! At my leg! Do you see that scar on my otherwise perfectly molded finely carved thigh? Do you know how a browned and comely leg such as this came to be marred by such a thick raised piece of shiny flesh as that scar there? Well, let me tell you. .. it's not so long ago as I would have forgotten the details of that bloody afternoon, as though I might ever forget the way Peter treated me that day.. .
"... Peter had checked us in at a motel off the main drag. It was a sumptuous place, to be paid for by his most recent patron, a Mrs. 'X', for the sake of discretion. Mrs. X., however, did not know of Peter's recent marriage, and he had forestalled informing her despite my warnings otherwise. Now, as we made ourselves comfortable in the luxurious linen supplied by the motel, I wondered if it wasn't a mistake to be here without having told the lovely lady of Peter's real and married status. We were, for the first time, in her city, hertofor Peter having been known only by his paintings, the patron Mrs. X known only by her checks.
"But I pushed this weighty guilt and fear of the obvious out of my brain and reached down between Peter's spread loins. He always likes a little header on arrival in a foreign city, and I was happy to provide him with my best. I approached that hearty muscle of his with my lips wide open, my tongue flailing like a hungry lizard's. It took but an instant to bring my artist husband's rod to a full and meaty erection. From then on I performed what some women call a chore and what I call the delight of the afternoon. I rubbed my tongue up and down across that stiff and tasty rod. I worked on the crowning glory, the stiff shaft, the very root itself. I joined myself to that muscle the way oil joins itself to a heated pan. I worked my face up and down in a steady sucking motion that could not be beat for vacuum power. I enjoyed myself and gave Peter all the tongue thrashing that huge muscle of his could possibly use. If ever a bird were ready to fly, it was that mammouth horn-toothed, bat-winged, arrow-headed mushroom cloud of flesh which stuck forthright and featherless from Peter's crotch. I dared him to go solo into mia tunnel!
"Like a crotchety old woman, he rolled me over onto my backside and prepared my channel for a fully-rigged vessel. He licked me into a delicious foamy lather by concentrating his efforts on that twitching midget rod of flesh, my clitoris. He licked the slippery knob into ecstasy and then some, and then he went zinging his lips around it, sucking it so steadily into his face that I hardly dared to breathe for fear I would lose out on one of the best cunnilingus jobs ever. Jesus, he knew how to make a woman bleed clit juice!
"Soon I began to huffing and puffing and rolling my hips up and down in his mouth. I couldn't keep from slinging my twat in his face. I wanted that tongue of his to drill my hole full of hot flesh. I wanted to feel the lusty sensuous chills which accompanied a full-bodied adult orgasm. I wanted my legs to shake, my buns to scorch the sheets (That hot!), and I wanted to feel Peter's pecker piercing my pussy, penetrating and pulsing and palpitating me into a heady, applause worth climax. I nearly leapt onto his body in order to get it.
"But before I was half way up his torso, he shoved me down, hard, pressed me onto my back and crammed his rod into my hole. Instead of me mounting him, he was stabbing me, whipping me with his joint, stuffing me full of hot cock and making me cum and cum. It was a quick zesty orgasm, the kind of grind that makes a woman think twice about wanting to be anything other than a woman. I'd lick his boots to get that kind of loving. Do you hear me, Doctor? I'd shine his heels with my tongue in order to have that pecker of his slammed up my hole that way. I'd do anything he asked me to, including polish his knob, put a sheen on his buns, press his sphincter with my tongue, eat his bunghole for a year and a half, wash my hands in his urine-anything and everything-I'd do it all just to get my cunt filled up with that twat-twitcher of his. It was that good of a meat, that hot a fucking...
"Well, one thing leads to another, eh? And before I knew it Peter was rubbing that steel spike of his into my bunghole. I don't know how it happened, but before I could even think about protesting the fact, Peter's meat was sliding like a bulldozer down the side of a hill into my rear orifice. Every inch of flesh which he passed over was left raw and tender even before he'd fully penetrated to the depths of my ass flesh. When my bowels began to itch with the feel of his mushroom head expanding in them, then I knew that Peter, my husband, had fully perforated that gorge in my rear end.
"I screamed and hollered and yelled and hooted, but all of that was no avail. He'd punctured me, and that was only the first of the day's agenda. Now he wanted to throb off in there, to make me cum with ecstasy, or more importantly, to make himself cum as best he could. I gave him my all, even though I didn't think it was called over, and began a long, slow squeeze. My interior bunghole flesh wrapped around his joint and pressed from all attitudes. I pulled and stroked with my hitching hips. I rubbed and caressed and finally, with a singularly final flick of my hips, I pulled that Roman Candle Cornhole Cock into ecstasy, and out of it came a second healthy spurting wad of hot jism juice which he spread out around the insides of my back cave. Jesus, I was so fucking hot...
"Well, once he had yanked that pole out of there, out of my ass flesh, I felt like I should take a shower or something. But more than that, I felt like I was on the verge of a hot climax and that he should finish me off. I told him that, but Peter was of a mind of his own in these things, and he had no desire to go flicking on my clit if he himself wasn't needy of some sort of sexual stimulation. So it was he showered, and I lay back in bed with my big knockers hot and steamy, my cunt hole ready for the big dramatic juicy climax, and I fingered myself, poked and rubbed and flicked my clit until finally that super-charge of electric sexual energy went racing through my loins and up and down the insides of my cave, giving me the final necessary ecstasy. I throbbed in delight, flopped my little hips like a child just finishing off some new dance, like the hustle, and lay back in a satin sweat, a cloud of ecstasy, adrift with my sensuous satisfied dreams . ..
"It wasn't long after that there was knocking at the motel room door. Well, you don't have to be a soothsayer to guess that it was Mrs. X, the patron of Peter's art, rapping at our chamber door. I hesitated before answering and looked to the steamy bathroom door before opening the latch at the door on the opposite side of the room. I was wearing a silky housecoat, one which showed off my legs and the tops of my blood-red blushing boobs. Standing framed in the door, her breasts exposed by the low cut of her v-necked silky white dress, her stature akimbo, and the dress cut off at the thighs-she too, I supposed, wished to display her earthy wares-and her heels as stacked as she herself, she addressed me in a righteous tone, shrill enough to shatter glass, and raised her brightj eyebrow as she did: 'Is Peter here?' She took to plucking her glove finger by finger from her hand and added as haughty as can be, 'He is expecting me, I dare say,' and she looked up to see if I'd begun to run round the room, as her voice would have implied necessary, to search for Peter, to find him and bring him forward so that he could give homage to the woman who'd so kindly footed the tab. Needless to say, I didn't budge. 'You can hear the shower?' I asked in as peasant-like a demeanor as I could manage. 'Well, Peter's in it,' and I hauled back my pelvis and pointed the way to where the rolling clouds of steam poured from the open bathroom door along with the sound of a rainy shower within. Mrs. X smiled and strutted by.
"She peeked her head around the corner of the bathroom door, lifted one heeled foot upwards behind herself, and leaned half her stolled body around behind the door so as to be able to see, I take it, Peter's most private parts. 'Peter, darling,' she extolled him, 'don't you think you might come out and say hello?' She reached one hand out of my sight and into the bathroom so that I could not see exactly what chore she performed, but a moment later the rest of her body disappeared from sight with a slight and whispy screech. The bathroom door slammed shut and I was left alone in that most dreadful motel room. I could only imagine to what prodigious ends and in what orifice Peter was presently driving his fresh nail.
"From the sounds of things however, from the bellowing which emanated from that tiled hollow, I calculated that as with myself he had strapped down the lovely lady Mrs. X and shoved his highly erotic muscle into her bunghole. In another moment-I counted the jealous seconds-he'd have done with her, would have performed the service required by Mrs. X and her needed patronage, and he'd never give her a second thought. I was his wife and I knew.
"To the second, as I clocked off the interval, she exited the bathroom with her flaxen hair a mess equal to any quail's wooly home, and her clothes all disheveled like she'd just been through a cyclone, and she attempted to strut, as casually as she'd entered, her way out of the place. But her high heel on her left shoe snagged a portion of the Persian carpet thrown beside the bed and sent Mrs. X for a nasty tumble. I sat somewhat beside myself with joy and snickering, unable to keep from laughing aloud, unable even to come to her aid. A moment later she shouted at me and at Peter-it was really not his doing-'I'm cancelling all aid to you, you filthy heathen pig, and as for you,' and she pulled back one of her ritzy diamond studded hands, in an effort to bat me like a fly, and again she fell down on her hands and knees. I grabbed the carpet at one corner and dragged it and the former Peter patron to the motel door. I stood behind her and watched her used fanny wiggle as she searched here and there in the fabric of the carpet for some missing stone or something, and then, when I was quite sure she was more or less together, I gave her a shove with my bare foot on her skirted fanny and sent her packing out the door. 'And don't come back,' I said. 'Please?'
"I slammed the door in her besmirched face and thought for sure that Peter would be delighted with my performance. But when I turned around and looked at the bathroom door, he stood there with as cold a look in his eyes as ever I've known the man to bear. 'But Peter,' I begged prematurely, 'don't you understand? She insulted us! She caused us pain for no reason! She acted like a heathen!' I couldn't believe that he would even consider punishing me for having booted that flaxen tart out the motel room door.
"Momentarily, the phone started ringing. It was the manager of the motel informing us that he thought we should know that if we wished to stay on, as he no doubt presumed we would, we would necessarily- Mrs. X had made it 'necessarily'-be paying our own way; he wondered if either Peter or myself would be so kind as to come downstairs and sign the register again, this time indicating the new responsible party. I clicked off after telling him that I would be down shortly.
"But when I had returned the phone to the cradle, Peter was upon me, and he was naked, his steely blue eyes boring through my forehead, and he was taking me in his arms and holding my face only inches from that deadly glare: 'Why, you bitch, do you dare to interfere in my business? Why do you come around and make things so incredibly difficult for me?' He took one hand from my upper arm where he'd clasped me so tightly as to leave welts, and he smacked me across the face. He whacked me as hard as he could and my jaw shook like a bowl of jelly in an earthquake. When my field of vision stopped rattling, and when I could once again see clearly, I told Peter that compared to Mrs. X he was a monster. He smacked me again across the face, this time sending me teetering onto the mattress where I fell flat on my face. He ripped the kimona housecoat off my back and thrust his stiffened meat into my bowels for a second time that afternoon. It was hot as a fiery branding iron, and the scalding mushroom head went slamming into my lower body like a sterilized scalpel, cutting me, opening me for whatever torments he wished to perpetrate. In that one instant, for the first time in my life, I actually hated my artist husband.
"I reached out. My hand happened on the lamp. I grabbed it and broke it over the side of the end table which had a moment before been its pedestal. I took the jagged edge, thinking to thrust it backhanded into my husband's chest, and thus, while he stroked his burning meat in and out of my bunghole I would cut out his heart, and at the instant that I started my desperate swatting, Peter grabbed my wrist and took to ramming my hand back down, more in line with his own desires. He removed the splintered piece of glass, a portion of the base of the lamp, and started to toss it aside. At the last minute he decided not to discard the sharp fragment, however, and instead he took the jagged end of the thing and rammed it into my thigh. He stroked downwards, carving my leg in a steady groove, like a scythe through soft and fertile ground, and ripped my flesh.
"It took the surgeon four hours to sew that wound, and even then he'd only done up the cut itself. A nurse, two other physicians and an emergency crew saved me from the clutches of a deadly shock, and having thus saved my life, carted me from room to room giving me what treatments were necessary for the anal orifice which my husband had nearly shredded in his terrible rage. For two weeks I lay on my belly recuperating from that God-awful struggle with my husband, the artist, and it was not, good Doctor, without some dread and a large amount of remorse that at the end of that fortnight I chose to return to live, once again, with that madman Peter. Had I any real sense, I'm quite sure that I'd have filed divorce papers, sued for cruelty and damages, and attempted, with some sort of weapon, to do him in the way he did me in.
"But I did no such thing. As I said, that was some time ago. He gave me to believe, oh, so many times, that I would have better things in store for me, that he would soon be caring for me in the tenderest fashion. Leading me down some primrose garden path, he taught me to trust him in the worst way imaginable. I would, every dawn, rise to give him a good sucking and he would tell me in that first moment of the day that I lived only to jack him off, only to make him a sexually healthy man. By noon he would have me promising him a ream out in his asshole, and by dinner time I would have, while Peter painted masterpiece after masterpiece, cried and sobbed to myself no less than a dozen times. I couldn't figure out how it was that he managed to get such an incredible performance out of my body.
"If it was sucking he was wanting, I gave him the best head he could possibly have. I licked his rod, tongued his balls, ate out his asshole. If he wanted screwing, I gave him the inside of my twat. I chewed his joint with tender pussy muscles, with cunt flesh that few men know exist. I kissed his buttocks, warmed his tender muscled loins with my own breasts, and I gave him as often as possible, access to my anus. There was no sexual chore that I, the great artist's willing slave, would not perform. I was and am his alone.
"Do you know what this means, Doctor? If another woman sees a man she desires, happens to know that she can have him and even has the opportunity, she thinks twice, and then she jumps ahead, into bed, into his arms, there to enjoy a temporary respite from the boredom of marriage.
"For me it is completely different. If I see such a man, it is generally a friend of Peter's. The man knows what will happen to me if I so much as look askance in Peter's presence. If I should find the opportunity to make eyes at the fellow, and Peter does not discover it, the man himself may very well fear what retaliatory measures Peter will take. On one occasion, though it appeared to be by accident, Peter gouged out the right eyeball of a man who glanced-GLANCED is all he did, Doctor-in my direction. He peeled the man's lid from his face and with it he took the eye below. It was not a pretty sight.
"And let us say that I have eyes for a man and we manage to get together in some remote place and share our bodies with one another. Do you think there is a man with a bird of flesh as powerful, as able to fly successfully through my tunnel as Peter? Do you think even for a minute there is a man alive who can give my little wingless twat a feathery feel the way my artist lover can? No, Doctor, unlike other women I must be forever constant to my husband. -
"There was a time, however, when he had the nerve to pick up a younger woman. She was a teenager, some sort of hooker with a bent on getting the artist type into her repertoire of customers. Well, Peter went for her, for this nubile nymphet, and he did it right in front of my own eyes. But the way he did it was this: he wanted to have her for himself, but he used me to get her. Do you see what I mean? He picked her up and told her that her chore was to make me happy, to satisfy my secret Lesbian desires and then, while the child went mercilessly to work on my clit, sucking me off and rubbing her titties up and down on my thighs, Peter looked on and enjoyed himself.
"I remember the exact moment at which he turned from our loving embrace, took off his clothes with his back to us and then turned around and grabbed the child around the shoulders and pulled her up and off of my body. He took her alongside me so that I had no choice but to watch as he tossed his spear in and out of that little whore's splendid oily snatch. Her clit lubricated with just the touch of his penis to her body. What woman's body would not? That big member went crawling up her hole like a rodent, like a gopher running from a snake. He snatched out of her bush a tasty morsel of hot ass flesh while his hands pawed the backside of the child's smooth round cheeks. He tacked her down, drove his stiff animal nail deep into her flesh and let her squirm, impaled and screaming, on his stiff rod. She spread her legs and bounced around on his tough member.
"Jesus, I'll never forget the sight of that big chest babe having got for herself more of a meat stick than any of her customers had ever paid to have serviced. Peter's stinger banged away, filling her child's twat with more hearty meat than she knew what to do with. She rocked and rolled on that long thing. She attempted to make the head explode. She wrapped her arms around his back and searched out his ass cheeks. She did everything in nature to make him cum in order to relieve herself of the tremendous pressures his cock muscle brought to bear inside her cunt. There was no way out of the electric charging that Peter earmarked for that child. He didn't let her go until she had screamed bloody murder, until she'd climaxed several times in a row, until she sweated a satin sweat and blushed a blood-red crimson. She was exhausted, spent, and, finally, abandoned in a heap of hot wet flesh. He literally rolled her off the bed.
"I snickered at him and asked how he liked robbing the cradle, and he snorted back, 'I paid dear for that fuck, loved one, almost as dear as I paid for you!' His quick tongue, were I armed at that moment, would have cost him his life. As it was I went for his face with my nails. He grabbed both my wrists, though, and bending my hands backwards behind my neck he forced me down under him. His nail was still stiff and steely and he took advantage of the fact that the whore's tongue had left me hot and moist. He rammed his cockshaft into my channel and rode me down flat until his pelvis went flush with my pelvis, until his legs forced my loins completely wide open. I could feel the heady mushroom head of his muscled bird flying against the insides of my tube, and there was clearly no way to stop that massive tool from doing its dirty work inside my body. I wanted to beg off, but a moment later I was cuming all over him, cuming and wondering if there was ever any escape.
"On another occasion-this time we were alone-he arranged what I thought would be a nice day of sunbathing. He took me up on the roof of his studio. Overhanging the roof was a vine of some sort and he took some of the old stringy roots of that tree and wrapped my naked ankles in the stuff. He tied up my wrists, bound me to the roof of the house and waited until I had baked somewhat. I was, as he had instructed me to be, completely nude.
"When I had a semblance of a sunburn he began stroking me, at first mildly and then more stridently, with a stiffer portion of the vine. He literally whipped me with that branch, struck me several times in a row with it until my body showed all sorts of welts. Then he lay down along side me, Doctor, pretended to comfort me, and finally he stroked my face open so that he could work his big tool into range of my tongue. It was that, a blow job while I was tied up, that he had wanted all along. I had no choice.
"I tongued the root of his muscle, kissed his balls, licked the stiff and spongy head. I swabbed the mushroom crown and sucked off the tip. It wasn't long after that when I had taken the whole cap into my mouth and started rubbing my lips back and forth across it. I wanted to make sure, you see, that he was pleased, for I knew that if I did not do an adequate job of sucking, he would certainly continue to beat me. It was my only chance for freedom. But really, in the back of my mind I knew that regardless of my performance he would, most likely with relish, beat me again. Yet, for some reason or other-perhaps it was the hot sun, the clear blue sky, or perhaps it was the shape of his mighty rod-for some reason I continued to suck off that huge pole. It wasn't long before he blasted off in my face, shooting juice down my throat, forcing me to gobble up his cum or drown. What choice, really, did I have?
"An hour later, after passing out with the jism dripping down my lips, I came to. I was still tied, but I was able, in my less frenetic state of mind and without Peter present to push me down if I tried to get up, to loosen the bonds around my wrists, then around my ankles. It was a heavenly pleasure to be free for a moment from the artist's cruel and sadistic behavior. He was inside creating, I believe, making another painting which would, only a month later in the year, sell for no less than fifty-five thousand dollars.. .
"I wonder sometimes if it's worth it. After all, I get no recompense from all the sexual abuse heaped on my body by that man. I am, it's true, greatly satisfied by his fuck-rod when he uses it in my cunt. But think of what I must put up with in order to gain access to that one or two moments of pleasure every other day. Is it worth it, Doctor?
'The other morning I was shoved out of bed and told to beg for his joint. I begged and I got his pecker crammed into my face. I rolled my tongue across the head of that meat as if it were my one and only desire. Really, I was thinking about chicken soup and how nice a cup of it would be. And yet, on my face a look of passion glowed and heated up Peter's pelvis. I was no more interested at six o'clock in the morning in sucking him off than I was in getting to the church on time on Sunday's. It was irrelevant to me. Yet I gave him all the header he could use because I knew that he had a long hard day of creating ahead of him, a long hard day of sending his brush in the madman contortions which would make another masterful painting for the world. Sometimes, Doctor, I think that it is I, Cordelia Lear who paint the world in all its glory and not my husband who feigns normality.
"I know for sure that one thing is true: he is polymorphous perverse. Artist, yes. But perverse in every way, yes to that too! He knows no limits when it comes to sexuality. He would just as soon scold me with his foot, kick me in the ribs as he would ram his cock muscle up my asshole or shove that mushroom headed pecker into my pussy. It makes no difference to him, and all sex is tempered, in his brush, by this even handed interest. My twat, my ass flesh, my mouth, my arm pit, my big toe, the third finger on my left hand, the fifth vertebra in my delicate female spine-they are all the same to him, and he would as soon eat my cunt as cantaloupe. It doesn't matter at all...
"You begin to think I'm mad, eh, Doctor? Well, let me tell you about one more time when I had the occasion to witness Peter's orgasm. Perhaps then you'll see what I mean about this world famous artist and his incredible sexuality. He took a twelve year old girl.
"Yes, I see by the look on your face, Doctor, that you too have known the joys of a child's flesh, that you too would understand Peter's great needs ... He picked her up in front of a school one day. It was almost by accident. He just happened to be there, and the child mistook his car for that of her father's. I was in the back seat counting out some cash we'd just picked up at the bank before it closed. The child hopped into the car as Peter stood stationary at a stop sign. He looked, not the least bit concerned at the child who jumped into the car, and then, as she shut the door and turned his direction and discovered her error, Peter pulled away from the stop sign.
"She begged him of course to set her free, but he wouldn't do that until she'd calmed down and allowed him to get to know her just a little better. From then on it was a question of time. He bought the child an ice cream, a toy, some comic book, and slowly but surely, over the course of two hours, he wormed out of her some sexual truths that the little girl had neglected to admit even to herself.
"She ended with her legs spread and Peter's massive penetrating sword sticking her down in the weeds on some God-forsaken hillside in some out of the way county where the statutory laws would have been so severe as to demand castration for even talking to such a nymphet, and yet somehow, high above the city, pinned to the scraggly rock and dirt of that hill, even the twelve year old child appeared grateful for what my husband artist did to her with his meat...
"... I don't know why I've told you all of this, Doctor, and really, there is no way to end Objectively, except to say that I know for sure I will be going back to him now, and I will not be able to leave him for he is such a fabulous screw and, and... well, what more is there to say after that?"
CASE NUMBER SEVEN: Doris L.
"I know why I married him, Doctor: he has a nice big penis. But I don't know why I've let things get the way they are. At first, you know, there wasn't anything unusual. But then things seemed to get a little out of hand-I mean with sex and all...
"When we first started going out-that was in high school-Dennis didn't expect anything unusual from me. We used to neck in the back seat of his car, and I just loved that. The windows would get all steamy and my legs would get chilled, especially when he went running his hand up and down my thigh. That just used to give me a tingle that I'll never forget!
"I liked petting, too. The feel of Dennis rubbing his palm on my nipples, well, it just about drove me wild. I could hardly control myself when he got my caps all goose bumped and everything. It was like being in heaven. My little tips would stick right out. I could feel them get hard. It was just so much fun.
"It was only natural that we go on for more. I used to let him finger me. That was a nice surprise. Of course, it wasn't completely a surprise. Because I used to lay in bed at night sometimes and spread my legs out and play with myself. It took me a while to get to know myself. I had to find out all the little parts of my hole. I mean the clit and everything. But once I did, well, you know I had myself some good times in there ...
"It didn't take Dennis long at all, though. He knew right where my clit was. I'll never forget one Friday night before we were married. We were parked up on the hill, in our favorite place, and Dennis got my skirt pulled up around my hips and my panties pulled down around my knees. I was getting hot and cold all over, at the same time. He had his hand going up and down between my legs. I'm not sure if it was the first time for him to go feeling me up in there, but if s the one I most remember. He worked his hand up between my loins like a fish, a salmon swimming up stream. He just kept coming and coming and coming. He didn't stop until he got his finger planted all the way down my channel.
"Then he went rubbing. He went sliding that digit up and down and back and forth. He knew just how to make his knuckle catch hold of my clitoris. He took me for one of the nicest rides my little twat-cock ever had. It was just like taking honey from a beehive. He just knew how to do it. He cooked me up something fierce that night. It was like being with a movie star or something. I loved it.
"I'll never forget looking down between my legs and seeing that finger of his stroking in and out of my hole. There was this wet clicking sound, the noise from his finger sloshing up and down in my wet pussy. My cunt was so hot and steamy that you could have fried clams in there! It was that good!
"Well, when I saw that, his finger, and the way it was making me so sexy and lusty and all, I could hardly keep from asking him for the real thing. He told me that I would have to rub him up good first. I did that. I slid my hand down between his legs and started working out on his joint. Plenty of times before I had held that thick member of his. I had rubbed him up really good. But like he said, 'this time' was going to be special. I made a point of being really good to his thing. I rubbed it and used my palm and went up and down with my fingers. And I did all of that before it was even naked. I did that with his trousers still on ...
"And when I finally got his pants opened up that big muscled bird of his was about ready to go flying. I reached for it, between Denny's hands, which were busy working between my legs, and I got hold of the tip. That thing was so spongy and red and all! I just couldn't keep from going down on it, even if it meant, for the time being, giving up that delightful finger-fucking which Denny was giving me in the cunt. I had to take his hands away from my pussy so that I could have room enough to go down on his cock. But he didn't mind ...
"I spread his legs and got my hands sliding up and down between his thighs. I worked my fingers up around his balls and then got the stalk of his pecker in my fist. I'll never forget how that thing filled up my whole palm. I squeezed it like it was a baseball bat. Then I cupped it with my lips, the head that is, and I got that big mushroom thing sliding around between my lips and my tongue. I really got it good, good and wet and slippery. I made that spongy boner into a juicy piece of beef steak. Denny knew I loved him then. Just from the way I went bouncing my face up and down on the joy rod-he just had to know!
"Anyhow, once I got that pecker rod so stiff and healthy that it was about to throb its way right out of his crotch, then I told Denny that I thought he should pound away inside me. I didn't say it like that, but he knew for sure that that was what I needed ... and he gave me that, too! He got me down outside the car. He just dragged me out of the backseat-it was the first time for that, too!-and he spread my legs open, without even pulling my blouse off, and he jammed that big stiff muscle boner of his all the way down my tunnel. He worked it in all the way.
"I had to lift my legs so that I could get enough of it. It was really something. I wasn't a virgin except in the technical sense of having never got a meat in there, but
I didn't have a ribbon or anything. Lost it in gym or something. No, I wasn't a virgin that way, but when I felt how good that hog was inside me, well, I knew for sure that until that day I hadn't even lived. Oh, God, Doctor, just to feel that rubbery spike going sliding down inside me that time-it was like the end of the world or something.
"Dennis, he got his hands cupped around my buns. He pulled me up and back on my spine. He tossed that meat into me so deep I thought I was going to be nailed to the ground forever. He really crammed more meat into me than I thought I could get or use or something. It was just amazing to feel that big fleshy spike ramming its way up inside my body. I don't know where he got the energy to do it that way. He worked up and down inside me like he was a big jackhammer, a big flesh needle. I held onto his buns and could feel them getting tight and soft in my hands as he worked up and down on my body. It was really nice. Really fucking nice ...
"Well, of course, he came pretty fast. We were outside and all, and he was pretty much turned on, and he let loose with a big spurting wad of hot jism. I could feel it go sliding on the back wall of my twat. I kissed him hard on the lips while he shot that jism juice into me. It was ecstasy, divine, and there's really nothing in the whole world like it. I mean it's one thing to give header and to get a big joint up the anus, but it's the best, for me anyhow, to feel that muscle banging away and spraying off inside my cunt. Nothing else can surpass that pleasure for me! Why, that first time, I wasn't even worried the least little bit about getting pregnant.
"Maybe I should have been worried. Because that's what happened. I got all blown up and we had to get married. Not that Dennis and I didn't want to get married. It made sense. We were graduating from high school and all. I mean why not pick out the one you love and live with him forever, eh?
"So we did that. Only I didn't know what it would be like. I didn't know that Dennis would want to meet other girls and that I would want to meet other guys. I thought that first love was the only love. Not so, Doctor. Just not so at all!
"For instance: I hadn't been married for a month when I came home from shopping one Saturday afternoon and what did I find in my livingroom but Denny's tail, those wild cheeks of his, flying up and down while he was fuel injecting "some broad"-he called her that afterwards-who was from down the street or something. She'd come "to borrow sugar" or something. Oh, sure, to borrow sugar! I could see right there what kind of sugar that bitch wanted.
"Well, anyhow, once she got shoed out of the house, and once I got things settled with Dennis-and by settled I mean that we had a big fight and that was that-well, then I realized that there was no way that two seventeen year old people were going to just be balling each other. It wasn't natural and I had been sort of silly to get all riled about Dennis sticking his needle in one other girl. I mean if he wanted to go out and plant a dozen women, that would be alright with me. But we were married. It was a kind of a conflict. I didn't know what to do.
"Well, one day about a week later I was getting undressed in front of the mirror. Dennis was already asleep in bed. I'd been out late talking with some of my girlfriends about what it was like to be married. Of course I didn't tell them the true story, about how it was kind of frustrating to see all those gorgeous men going by in the world and not being able to lay your hands on their balls and their cocks because of that silly diamond ring which in my case was just a gold band, and I didn't mention to them about how my husband expected me always to have the house as clean and neat as Harriet from t.v., and I didn't tell them that I was worried about what it was going to be like to have a baby-but I did tell them that I loved getting a steady punch! Well, anyhow, I looked at my body, which was getting pretty large now with the baby and all, and I decided that if I was lucky I would get myself a miscarriage and be done with all of that shit and go out and get some real fucking done!
"And you know what? Not two weeks later that's what happened. The doctor told me it was kind of an accident and he was very sympathetic to me. It didn't take long for me to recover though, because even though I was going to miss-having that baby, I was looking forward to the freedom I was gonna have. Now, you see, I could go out like Dennis and make myself some interesting people.
"You know that I had to get myself some new clothes and all. And I did that. I got myself some of the neatest
Honeymoon In Leather looking white shorts-it was still summer after graduation-and a nice low cut blouse and I put all of it together in front of the mirror one afternoon. I just sort of stood there posing and modeling for myself, checking out the way my boobies stuck out when I wore a bra and the way they hung when I didn't, and how to hold my hips so I could give a good angle on my legs. And pretty soon, I had it down pat. I was ready to go out there and hustle up some of the kind of thing ' that those single girls get all the time.
"Naturally, I didn't tell Dennis that I was planning on doing that. I didn't want him to have to worry and all. Besides, I knew he was out sowing wild oats all the time. One time I found hairs on his shirt, lipstick and all that kind of thing. So it wasn't like I was going to be the only one not 'cherishing' the marriage vows that we had taken just after high school.
"Well, my first lover, believe it or not, was one of my old teachers. I ran into him in the shopping mall. He came up to me and he said right out that as long as I I was a student he couldn't talk to me like a girl he'd want to date, but now that I was graduated he could really see making some time with me. I showed him my wedding ring, but that didn't mean a thing to him. I was glad of that. He took me to his apartment that day. Oh, sure, we had coffee and lunch and all that, but we both knew right away where we were headed. Right into bed!
"Well, let me tell you, Doctor, that teachers these days have nice big hogs! That fellow had one of the nicest joints I ever did lay my hands to! We started out just getting naked and me rubbing him down. I loved working on his legs and that muscle of his. It was soooo big! I rubbed it with my fingers, just the same way I'd have done Denny, only more so. It was so exciting to be with another man, just for the change of pace. I took that big muscle inside my lips. I sucked on it and licked on it. I chewed away at that thing, giving that teacher one of the best mouth rub downs he could ever expect. I gave him some very nice header, Doctor, and believe you me, he appreciated it. You know how I could tell? By the Way he ate me out! That's how!
"He got down between the lips of my twat, slid his tongue in there and went for a mouthful of my pussy that I didn't know I had to give. He took a bite out of it. He sucked my clit up between his lips. He used his tongue to rub on the tip of my little twat-pecker, and it wasn't long before I had a big hard-on-as big as a woman gets-of my own. Oh, boy, did I feel good or did I feel good?!! I rocked and rolled in his face. My pussy was everywhere at once, and his tongue covered all of that territory and more. He ate me out like I'd never had it before. He kind of woke me up to the fact, now that I think about it, that there were other men in the world besides my new husband. I mean, I knew that and all, but I didn't know what those other men could do for me until that teacher got to licking between my legs. Mmmmm, it was fine!
"Well, pretty soon I was leaking like a broken dam. There was juice gushing out of my twat and I was huffing and puffing. I told him that I thought it was time for him to go sticking that big rod of his into place. He r said that he wanted to try something.
"I thought, 'Oh, sure, why not? So far, everything this guy tries on me is terrific...' Well, you can guess the rest. He took out a tube of lubricant and had me spread my buns for him. I had to get on my hands and knees to do that. I spread out and reached back just the way he said. I took my cheeks in my hands and held them open so he could grease my hole. At first everything felt terrific. Once my hole was all lubricated and all, he had me spread some of that oil on his muscle. I did that with pleasure. That meat of his was so big and strong that there wasn't a girl in California who wouldn't have enjoyed lubricating him. I did that and then when it was all juicy he told me to get back on my hands and knees. I did that, too. He lifted up that big thing and put it down between my ass cheeks. At first it just sort of rested there, between my two fleshy globes. But then he started sliding, slowly but surely, rocking up and down, moving that flesh banana of his so that I got a rubbing in my anal crotch. It was nice and slick and I thought that everything was going to be easy for the whole thing . ..
"Then, all of a sudden, he slipped a finger into my anus. I didn't expect that, but it didn't kill me either. My sphincter spread out in order to accommodate that bony digit of his, but after that everything was pretty much the same. I thought again that things were going to be o.k. He went worming around in there with his finger until he'd kind of stretched my inner tube.
"Then he hit me with the big gun. I don't know where that cannon came from, but all of a sudden it was in- side and pounding, blasting away like a bold of lightning. I couldn't believe it! I nearly jumped out of bed. He had a grip around me or I would have. I would have just left him behind. I would have got out of that bed, dressed myself and went home and never saw that guy again. But like I said, he had his hand around my waist and he was fingering me, fucking me in the twat with one digit, and he had his other hand up between my big knockers which were hanging down, and he was holding me at the shoulder. There was no place for me to go. I was in so much pain from having my asshole tube stretched like that, but I couldn't move no matter how I tried. Jesus, that was an incredible ache. I wonder if I'll ever forget how that first anal attack felt. It was so fucking stiff up my bunghole!
"Needless to say, I screamed, hollered, bitched, wailed, swore, cussed, and carried on until I nearly fainted, and needless to say, my anal teacher didn't stop pointing that stick of his up my asshole until he was ready to throb off. He just kept jamming and cramming, and there wasn't anything I could do but sweat it out. Finally he shot off and flooded my bunghole with hot pudding. I couldn't believe how relieved I felt when he'd finally pulled that tube of flesh of his out of my ass. I thought I was going to pass out with ecstasy. Well, you can imagine my surprise, though, that I also felt empty. Yes, it's true. As soon as that first asshole fuck was over I began to regret having complained so much. I don't know why, but I was already missing having something like that big boner stuffed up my tube. Jesus, it was confusing!
"Well, a few days later, at home with Dennis, I told him that I kind of thought we might try out some new positions. He was wild for it. He stripped down and I did the same. We hopped into bed lickety split and I got him hard and ready. Then I told him that we needed some lubricant. He said that he wondered what kind of experimenting I really wanted to do. I told him that I would like it if he would stick something, anything, his finger even, up my asshole. I just wanted to see what that was like. Of course, I knew that once we got started he would go poking everything, every inch, that is, he had, up my asshole.
"We just happened to have an extra cube of butter laying around, and Dennis brought that from the kitchen. He greased my butt cheeks with it. He spread that margerine around in my ass crack. The feel of that oily stuff melting between my buns gave me a kind of glow all over. I knew that Dennis would fit inside me like a glove. I knew that I was going to have an extraordinary feel from his boner in my tissue. Sure enough, once I was properly lubed, up he went, just the way I was hoping he would. He slammed it right in and I went right on up the ecstasy ladder. You see, Doctor, I was discovering my true inner anal self. And it was delicious.
"Just to feel that stiff meat spreading me out back there made me hot. And when it started pounding because Dennis was slapping his pelvis against my buttocks-well, you can't imagine my sense of delight. That little inner rubber band of sphincter flesh was all stretched out and my heart was beating about twice as fast as usual. It was pure ecstasy!
"I rolled my hips and rocked back and forth in order to make sure that Denny enjoyed himself. He reached under me and got hold of my titties which was an extra special little thrill. He grabbed onto my nipples and gave them a little memorable tugging. He was getting the hang of it just as fast as I was, maybe even a little faster. Well, as usual, before I knew it, he had shot off and was yanking his big mushroom cock head out of my bunghole tube. He laid down and huffed and puffed a little to catch his breath. He told me that it was tight like a glove and smooth like silk inside me in there between my buns, in my anus. I told him I liked to give him that kind of pleasure.
"Well, if it had stopped right there-I mean if we had just stuck to the anal sticking-well, then, maybe, just maybe, things would be working out right, the way they could have. But we didn't.
"Here's what happened ... A few days later Dennis came home with a dildo. He said he wanted to try that thing out on me. I took a look at it and I thought that something that large would be perfect for my twat. I mean, no matter how much I was enjoying my anal self, I was still really, deep down inside, a better twat fuck than anything else. Always, my first reactions would be: 'How will that thing go in my twat?' And of course that's what I thought Dennis had in mind with the dildo.
"Well, we got into bed and he greased me up, front and back, which should have been a tip off. But it wasn't. I thought he was just sliding that lubricant around between my buns because he got a kick out of feeling up my anal crotch. No so, however.
"His real reason for sticking his fingers and that grease up my buns was that he wanted to cram that dildo, which was twice the size of any ordinary cock muscle, into my anus. And believe you me, it was a shock and a surprise to feel the head of that big rubbery thing go banging down into my ass flesh. It really hit hard, Doctor, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I was in hysteria, if you know what I mean.. . absolute madness. My asshole was just about ready to start bleeding, and I couldn't get out of Dennis's hold. He had me pretty tight. I didn't know which way to move. And all the time there was the pressure of that huge rubber stick jamming me in the buns. I thought for sure I would pass out and that my asshole would cave in.
"But I lived through it, obviously, and Dennis got off -just from slapping me with that thing. But he wasn't satisfied with just beating my hole with the dildo. The next night he brought home this thing that looked like a muzzle for a horse. It was leather and it strapped around my waist, I found out later, and it held my cheeks open at the back. Jesus, when he first showed me that thing I knew I was in for trouble. Right then I should have run for cover, or at least home to my mother ...
"But no, like the fool that I am, I told him I was willing, because we're married and because I consider the sex part of marriage really important, to try and make him feel happy, even if it meant doing something like getting into a leather contraption. Well, Dennis, once he heard that, he didn't even want to eat dinner. It was into the bedroom right then that we had to go.
"We got naked and I rubbed him up so that he would have a nice boner. Believe you me, it didn't take much that night. He was about as hot as could be in a matter of seconds. I wanted to give him some sucking, just for my benefit, but he told me to hold off until he had the harness on my body. I didn't know what to say. I asked him what about a little tit rubbing, but he said that we would get to that child's stuff later. He wanted the leather thing on me right then and there.
"So I got onto my hands and knees and let him put it on me. He strapped one part of it around my waist. Then two straps went down on the tops of my buns and tied around in front so that my cheeks were held open by the leather throngs. Then he clipped some kind of a metal hook on the back strap, the part that braced the whole thing on my body. It was kind of like a leash,, only every time he pulled that thing it was a muzzle. That's when I realized that there was one piece of leather that went around in front of my pussy. It had a place for an attachment. You can guess what the attachment was: it was the rubber dildo from the other night. Dennis had planned the whole thing from the beginning. He clipped that dildo into place and it went sliding into my hole. So now, every time he did something with the back of the halter, it pushed the dildo up and down in my twat. Jesus, I thought for sure I was going to die with passion the way that thing worked.
"But then he greased up my buns and pushed his meat into my bunghole. Now, every time that he went sliding in my tube, the dildo in front went cramming up and down in my twat. Oh, God, that was the killer! It felt good in front but because of the way the thing held me open in back it was nearly killing me to get stabbed in the anus. I had to reach out and hold onto the head of the bed just to keep from fainting. I was feeling so much ache in my buns and so much good in my twat. It was the most confusing sexual experience I ever had.
"I was juicing but I was crying. I was having tears come out of my eyes and twat ooze out of my hole. I didn't know whether I was coming or going. But Dennis, he knew what was happening to him. He was getting a nice little kick out of ramming his cock muscle up my anus and pulling on that leash at the same time. For him, I guess, it was terrific. He even managed to do a little rubbing on my titties while he thrust that flesh needle up and down in my rear. I was just about dying for it to be over. It was too much fucking in both of my holes at once. I needed to rest.
"But Dennis, he just kept going. He kept popping in deeper and harder. It was as if my cries of agony were extra fuel for his energetic fucking in my buns. But pretty soon he finally got so hot that he was ready to explode in there. And explode he did!
"He shot off a mass of jism juice so big, Doctor, that I thought for sure I was going to float away. I thought I would just turn into a big blimp and get taken away by the next wind. It was so much for me that I couldn't keep from farting on Denny's dick. I didn't do it on purpose, and I'd have done anything to keep from doing it. But I couldn't help myself. I just farted and it was a big one, too, like a blown gasket.
"Well, Dennis, he went bezerk. He started pulling on that leather chain, the one that worked the dildo in my pussy, and he wouldn't stop. That big black rubber prong was jamming up and down next to my clit and twitching around inside my tube. I was out of control, just as much as Dennis. Somehow, I don't know how for sure, I came off of Denny's rod. That pissed him off even more. That was frustrating for him, I guess, and he started spanking me on the cheeks and pulling the leather leash at the same time. That mechanical pecker device was sliding up and down inside my hole at the same time that Denny was slapping his open palm on my buns. Before I knew it I was getting welts on my rear while I was cuming in my pussy. The whole room stank from clit juice and I was crying. There was the sound of his hand clapping on my cheeks, and the sound of me welping like an infant. It was a bizarre thing, Doctor, like out of some nightmare. I kept squawking and not knowing whether I wanted it to end or to keep on going. It was the most terrifying sexual experience I ever had. It was just devastating ...
"Well, finally, Dennis pulled that thing loose. It un-snapped and I climbed into a fetal position, more to protect myself than anything else. I thought for sure that he was going to make another assault on me, and that I would be raped and slapped around some more. But he didn't. He just left me curled up like that, in a ball of flesh. After a while he fell asleep next to me and I got up and showered. Believe it or not, I was still a little hot, even thought I felt so terrible.
"I looked at my buns in the mirror. They were pink and there were slap marks there. No matter how hot I was, no matter how horny I felt, there was no way in the world that I wanted to continue with him if I was going to end a sex session with marks on my body.
"I think it's partly my fault that things got out of hand, Doctor. See this sack? That's got the leather halter in it. Dennis is still at home in bed asleep. I came here early because I want you to tell me what to do. I have to go home to my husband in a few minutes and I want you to tell me what I should tell him. I don't want him to beat me anymore.
"Can you help me?"
CASE NUMBER EIGHT: Carlo, D.
"Maybe it's because I'm black, Doctor. Do you think that has anything to do with it? Do you think he hits me that way because I'm black?
"I don't know either. I see by that look on your face, though, that you are curious... I'll tell you all about it. We met when I was very young. I was fifteen, to be exact, and I'd had intercourse with no man. I was a virgin. The fact that he was white-well, frankly, it appealed to me. He was gentle, then, too. He had something nice in his face. Not like now. Now the way he treats me now, when I let him. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"I was fifteen. He asked me, even the first time out, if I knew what it was to have sex, and when I told him I did, he took me to a motel and made me strip. He played some funky music and that made it easier, but when he stuck that big hog of his inside me and hit my ribbon, well, we both knew right then from the way I was screaming and carrying on that I was not experienced. And if that didn't convince him, the blood spots did.
"After that, though, it was mighty damn good sex. Like I said, he had a big hog and it used to turn into a righteous boner. I loved to get my lips wrapped around it, and I think one reason he liked me, and maybe the reason he still does, is that he likes to see that white meat of his up against my black face. I don't know why that turns him on, but I see his eyes pop out sometimes when he gets a load of his big pink boner floating in my face ... I like to suck him and to tell you the truth, I think it's a turn-on especially just because he's white ... aint that a kick in the butt?
"Well, we got married when I was seventeen. I eloped with him. I had had some other guys, mostly black, and I was hot to have myself an easy time of it in one regard: I was in love with that white man and I liked the way he poked around in my twat. So what more could I ask for? I was ready to follow him anywhere. We got married and that, I thought, was that.
"Little did I know, eh? One thing that I couldn't stand about my parent's marriage was the way they were always messing around on one another. But once I saw what happened with my own hitching-up, well, then I went back and apologized to my mother. But that's neither here nor there.
"The fact is, not five months after we were married, I took to carrying on with another dude. He was black, not like Charley, and it really pissed him off when I told him about it. Of course, I didn't tell him about it until maybe the next year and the affair was all over. It was just a casual thing for me, and not one that I wanted to think about. But Charley, he couldn't forgive me for it. I don't even know why I told him, really-except that I saw him looking at a girly magazine one day-pictures of white girls-and it made me sort of jealous. I wanted him to feel back the same way. That's why I told him.
"Anyhow, he carried on for about two weeks about how he was going to go out and get some broad and bring her back to the house and make me jealous the way I'd made him. I reminded him that it was he who was supposed to be the older, wiser, more experienced one of the two of us, that I didn't expect he'd carry on this way. He just shook his head and walked away.
"Well, about a week later I pulled up in front of the house after work, and things seemed, had seemed that is, more or less in order. I was pretty happy that we were back on an even keel. I walked into the livingroom and there he and she was, just sitting there like a couple of petunias in the garden, as naked, as white, as big and proud as storm clouds. I couldn't believe it. What was I supposed to do? Start shrieking? Carry on like a mad black woman? No way! I went right to the bedroom, packed an overnight bag and started back out of that house. I didn't want anything to do with Charley's new game.
"I might have been a teenage bride and all, but I wasn't going to act like a silly little bitch. If he wanted to play some sort of sex game, well, that was his business. I was ready to call it quits.
"He caught me at the front door. The little white tramp he'd hired or convinced to do the thing was sitting scared as a pigeon on the sofa. She didn't know whether to faint or get dressed and try and sneak out. Me and Charley, she could tell, were going to have a big fight. It was what he wanted. He grabbed me by the arms and shook me. 'Where do you think yer goin' black bitch?' He was pissed off like a wounded turkey.
"I told him that I didn't want to interrupt him. He explained that he was going to fuck that white wench and that he wanted me to watch. I told him that I might have been his wife, but that I didn't have to take that kind of shit. He smacked me. That was the first time he ever hit me. I didn't know what to do. It wasn't the pain on my cheek that bothered me. It was the insult. My husband wasn't going to be slapping me and thinking that he could get by with that kind of thing. It wouldn't do. I didn't want to put up with it. He saw that in my eyes, but he held me pretty tight and dragged me into the livingroom.
"He told me that he didn't think I was going to go along willingly for it, so he had prepared, just in case, to make sure that I would stay there. The white wench was shaking like a little bird. She even started pleading with Charley to let her out of the deal. So I knew right then that she was getting paid for what she was doing. Not that it mattered, really.
"He pushed me down in a chair, like I started to say, and he told me that he had prepared things so that I would be sure to see everything just the way it happened, nice and clear-'a ring side seat for my black wife, he said. He sat me down and wrapped some sort of leather cord around my chest. He tied me into that chair. Then he used some sort of leather to tie my ankles to the feet of the chair. Then he tied my wrists to the arms of the chair. Finally, when he had me tied up like that, he started undressing me. I didn't see the point, but that's what he did. He pulled off my blouse-just ripped it right off my chest. He had a pair of scissors with which he cut my bra at the place where my cleavage was. He just sliced it there, ruined a perfectly good bra. He took that stuff away from my body and my big titties just hung down there. My nipples, even though I didn't want them to be doing it, were standing up on end. Those big brown caps were all stiff and erect and everything. The cherry tips were about as red as could be. I had goose bumps up and down my breast flesh. My shoulders were hot and cold at the same time. Charley was really getting to me by tying me up that way. It was some of it sex and some of it fright. I didn't know what was going to happen next.
"Well, I should have known. It was obvious. He teased one of my titties. Don't forget, Doctor, I couldn't move because he had my arms tied to the chair with those straps of leather, and the same was true for my ankles. My feet were spread out a little. "He leaned down between my feet and squatted there looking up at me. He smiled a little and pulled off I my shoes. Then he yanked at my nylons and ripped them off my legs. That left me wearing only my skirt and my panties. He reached up between my legs like a man I'd never met before. He used the scissors in his other hand to cut my skirt off my body. Then he did the same thing with my panties. He left my legs and my bush completely bare. I was so vulnerable tied up like that and it frightened me something awful.
"Well, he laughed when he saw how scared I was. He told me not to worry, that he wasn't a wife murderer. He smiled and turned around to the white bitch. It was then that I noticed she was a blonde, just the WASP child I knew he had tucked away in the back of his brain. He had her lay down in front of me. They spread out on the floor. That little girl had a couple of knockers almost as big as mine. Charley went sliding his joint up and down between those two big titties. He went rubbing his pecker in that cleavage space like he'd never done it before. And he kept looking up over his shoulder at me, as if he wanted to make sure that his torture was working on me. It was, Doctor, but I also realized that he was trying to do something else. He thought that I was kind of like his mother and that he was going to get scolded from me for doing it to that white girl. He thought that me, Carla, a black housewife, was his mother and that I was going to reprimand him for being such a bad little white boy. I couldn't believe -it, but I think that's one thing that Charley had in mind while he went rubbing his dick between that little white girl's titties. I just kept looking at them in case he turned around to see if his plan was working. I wanted him to think that it was, which really wasn't very true.
"Well, after that titty rubbing on that girl's nipples and all, Charley had her go down on him. I have to say that the little wench did give my husband quite a sucking. She worked her tongue up and down along his boner and all along the mushroom tip. She got that big meaty head of his into her face and that's when she started giving him what I call header. She was all over that spongy cap with her lips and her tongue, and she did good job of sucking. That much I have to say for her.
"Just from watching them two working out I could feel the juices get to secreting in my twat. I don't know why that happened to me. God knows, I'd have been better off not getting hot that way, but I couldn't help myself. Seeing that big boner, watching that girl go down on my husband, seeing how the two of them were gasping and panting and all... well, I guess I couldn't do much else but get hot, too!
"Charley didn't see me that way, not at first. He just kept enjoying the idea that he was torturing me and making me jealous-which he was. But I was also pretty fucking hot, too. I was turned on. I had some chills of my own going.
"The next thing Charley did was tell me to watch really carefully. He said he was going to do something that he knew I would like. You know what he did Doctor? Right in front of me, his wife, he went down on that girl's pie. I couldn't believe it. He went down in there and started sucking out her twat lips, rubbing his tongue up and down against her clitoris, eating her like as though she were his wife or something. It was one thing for Charley to fuck a girl in front of me, which is what I thought he was going to do, but it wasn't right for him to eat her out. I don't know why, but I thought that was something really personal that he wouldn't play any games with. I started squirming in those leather bonds which held me to the chair. I wanted to get out of there, out of my livingroom and out of that house where I had been living with my white husband ...
"But there wasn't any escape for me. I had to see him do that. I had to sit there and watch him lick out that white girl's cunt. It revolted me to think how perverse his brain was to think of something like this for torture. But then, I figured, I was just getting to know what kind of a man he really was. I watched him get that girl so hot that she was dying for him to fuck her with his penis.
"And that's what he did next. He took that big boner of his and with a smile in my direction entered that baby. He stuck that joint of his all the way up her pussy and didn't stop pounding inside of her until she screamed like a little baby getting her first fucking. She wailed and panted like she was having one big multiple orgasm after another. I couldn't believe it, and then I remembered that she was getting paid for it and that Charley had probably told her to pour it on thick at the end. But from the way she was blushing and sweating, I got the idea she wasn't really faking it. I could see Charley's big meat stick flying in and out of her tube and her twat lips. It was a real fuck, alright, and that was something you couldn't fake . ..
"A minute later Charley pulled that big old familiar wand out of the white girl's pussy and there was juice dripping from his pole. I knew he wasn't faking that. There just wasn't any way in the world to pretend about that jism stuff which was dripping from his cock head. I started to cry because it was so crazy what we were doing to each other, what he was doing to me especially ... I didn't make a lot of noise sobbing or anything, but I couldn't keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I felt like a little baby . ..
"... and then I heard Charley telling that white bitch to go home. I opened my eyes and she was all packed up. I looked real hard at her face so that I could remember what a true whore looked like. Any woman who would help a man do what Charley was doing had to be the worst kind of whore in the world. I just stared at her from the time she started packing until she was out the door. The next thing I knew Charley had slapped me across the face.
"I looked up at him and didn't give him the pleasure of a reaction because I knew that would please him, even though my face was stinging like it had been bit by a jelly fish. I just sat there tied up and shaking inside and wondering what he was going to do with me. He ran his finger up across my cheek. He called me all sorts of names, Doctor. They were revolting names, things that you wouldn't hear at a KKK meeting. He was being awfully rough on me just because I was his wife and I had been honest with him. He was being awfully rough indeed.
"He lifted his pecker up to my face and made me suck it clean. He stuffed it between my lips. The first time I spit it out. But I couldn't do that the second time because he got his hand behind the nape of my neck and shoved his meat into my lips. I thought about not cooperating but I knew he would just punish me worse if I didn't go along with him. I gave him the header he wanted, sucked on that point of his until it was clean and stiff again. He told me that if I kept being 'a good little black girl' that he would make sure I got untied really soon.
"Then he reached down between my legs and started fingering my clit. He worked his finger up and down between my twat lips. He foiled around in there and made me stiff and excited. I couldn't help myself. He was getting me just the way I loved it. I could feel his finger sliding against my clit and making me hot. I didn't want to but I looked. I looked down there and saw his big boner and then I saw his finger, and I saw what he was doing with it. He was driving that digit of his up and down next to my pussy lips and working out on my little pussy-joint. I couldn't keep from getting hot just then, Doctor, if my life depended on it. It's only natural, I guess, and I just couldn't keep from juicing with seeing that finger and feeling it in there between my ruby red cunt lips ...
"Charley knew how hot he was making me. You could have seen in his face how happy he was to have me tied up like that, like I was his slave or something, his black sexual slave ... He couldn't get enough of it, if you ask me. It reminded me of the time when I was in elementary school and one of my white teachers asked me if I wanted to stay after school and clean the erasers for him. I don't know why it reminded me of that. I was kind of surprised though that my brain was still working that way at all. I was so hot from seeing and feeling that finger of Charley's rubbing in my pussy that I couldn't understand why I was doing anything besides huffing and puffing.
"My titties were getting flashes. Whenever my tits get flashes, Doctor, I know for sure that I'm headed for orgasm. I didn't want to be getting that hot from a finger-fucking while my husband had me tied up, but I was. I was going to cum whether I wanted to or not. The question was whether or not I could keep Charley from knowing. I just kept staring at him like I was bored stiff, but he knew. He knew I was hot and bothered, horny and lusty, and he knew that just a little more grinding from that finger of his in my hole and he would have me finished off for the day. (Jesus, I don't know, sometime, how people can stand each other ... )
"He started stroking my long black thighs. He rubbed them with his open palms. He could see me getting shivers and chills. My shoulders were shaking. My eyes must have bee dilated. He could just look at me and see how turned on I was. He had his finger in my hole and he was working his hand up and down my slender thighs. He was having some fun, I could tell. I wanted to tell him that it didn't matter that he thought I was his mother or that I was blaek. I wanted to tell him that he should just go ahead and have some fun with my body, that he should untie me and fuck my brains out for me, and that I would let him do that before I left him all together. I was thinking that, but then how often is it that we say what we think and do what we know we should, Doctor? How often is it that we do the truely human thing?
"Anyhow, without going off the deep end, just let me say that Charley was getting very lusty and he could have enjoyed himself a lot more if I'd have thought we could trust each other. Instead, though, he preferred to have me tied up with those leather straps and my legs spread out with his finger up my cunt. I could see the way his boner was starting to throb that he wasn't far off from another big juicing. I wanted to tell him to stick it in my pussy because I was so damn hot, but I didn't think there was any way in the world that he would go for that. It would mean having to untie me.
"But he Surprised me. After a minute or two more of pushing his hands up and down between my legs, then he said that he was going to untie me for a minute and then stretch me out in the bedroom. He said that if I tried to fight him he would hurt me. He didn't care about our being husband and wife anymore. I just had to do what he said. He was really flippy. So I nodded and told him I would do what ever he wanted, that I wouldn't fight him. He unstrapped me and held me tight by my wrists which he tied together. Then he unstrapped my ankles and led me into the bedroom. Before he undid my wrists he tied my feet out wide to the foot of the bed. Then he undid my wrists and tied them up to the head of the bed. I told him he didn't have to do that, that I would still fuck him anyhow. He laughed and tied the straps pretty tight around my wrists. I could barely move and it hurt a bit in my ankles and my arms.
"Charley didn't pay me any mind from then on. He just climbed on and started pumping that meat of his down inside my hole. He grinded pretty good, too, I have to admit. He drilled me full of that hot cock muscle of his and it wasn't long before he was flooding that slot with juice. I could barely move, of course, except for my hips. Charley had his white hands wrapped around my smooth black buns and he was squeezing those cheeks, going wild with them in his kneading fingers. It wasn't long before that puddle of cum in my pussy was complete and he yanked his big joint out of my tube. I thought for sure that the big sex torture scene was over.
"But I was wrong, Doctor. Charley, he just took a seat on the side of the bed and caught his breath. He talked from time to time, telling me that no matter how long we were married we'd always have problems, that no matter what happened he'd always feel sort of strange about me being black and his being white, and then he said that if only he could get a good piece of ass out of me everything would be alright. I wanted to get up and kill him for that one, and I would have, too, but
I was pretty well tied up and it was impossible.
'The next thing Charley did was a complete surprise. He brought out one of those battery-operated dildos, the kind you see advertised in the magazines. I was afraid of the thing, and it turned out I had good reason to be. He took it and rammed it up my cunt and turned it on. He didn't take it out until I was ready to pass out. He just rubbed and pushed and shoved that thing up and down against my clit until I was dying from it. It's not the same as when you're enjoying it. It was more like sexual pain than sexual torture. He was killing my clit-flesh with that thing, and he knew it, too. He just kept letting it rub up against me. He kept pressing that dildo at me. Oh, God, Doctor! It was awful!
"Maybe I really did faint I don't know for sure. But the next thing I knew, Charley was talking to me. He said: 'I don't want really to hurt you.'
"I said baok: 'Why don't you stop this, then?'
"He said: 'You're my wife, my black wife, and I can fuck you any way I want to.' I told him that he was right about that, but I asked: 'What if you fuck me and I die?'
"He just shook his head. He didn't know what to say. I wanted to be free of him. I struggled against the bonds, which held my wrists to the bed posts. I was stretched out like a spread eagle. He told me not to struggle and that he would free me. He did that, alright, but he tied me back up again, too. Only the second time I was on my belly, not on my back. He stretched open my buns and went looking down my back tunnel. Jesus, Doctor, there was no end to the humiliation of it.
"He left me there for a while and went to get something. I hoped that it was not going to be something dangerous. I began to fear for my life. There I was stretched nude and like a prisoner in my own house and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. This white fool was going to go and ruin our marriage and maybe my bunghole, too. He came back with a bottle of something. I found out later it was cooking oil. He poured it on to my ass flesh and rubbed it around between my two big cheeks. He made sure that the tube was well oiled and he used his finger to get the grease in just about every conceivable spot. He rubbed it up and down all around my globes. He didn't miss a square inch. To tell you the truth, it was making me hot and lusty again, even against my better instincts. I knew he was going to torture me with that big thick boner of his shoved into my anus.
"Sure enough, he climbed up onto my buns and started rubbing around. He took that wiener muscle and sandwiched it between my buttocks. He went for a nice greasy slide up and down the cheeks of my ass, especially in between where it felt nice for both of us. I knew, though, that the good feeling was only going to last for a little while longer and that the next thing I would get would be that rod of his busting up my tube.
"I wasn't far off. A minute later he entered me. He shoved that white post of his down inside. I could feel him splitting me open. I felt like a tree stump. His ax just kept cutting, tearing me open. In he went, down to bowel territory. My rump was filled up with more cock flesh than I knew existed in the world. I didn't understand why he wanted it that way just then, but I didn't ask him either. I just screamed and hollered, cussed at him, swore that I would get back at him, swore that somehow, sometime, if he didn't kill me right then, I would tear every hair out of his body, or that I would have him arrested, or that I would get his body dragged through the streets of Watts for doing that to me. He just kept pumping, grinding that big tough flesh drill into my asshole, and I don't think he would have ever stopped if he hadn't started ejaculating. That was what saved me from dying right there. He came and it was over.
"When he finally pulled out of my body he was out of breath and tired. I think maybe he'd had what he wanted. It was kind of like a little game for him. He just wanted to get that one shot in and he didn't care what he'd have to do to get it. It didn't really have all that much to do with my having told him about my affair from the previous year. He wasn't that jealous. He was just using that as an excuse to bang me while I was tied up. I wondered if he would ever want to do that again. I wonder now, even, if I can trust him. He's still my husband, you know, Doctor, and there were some good times that we spent together.
"There was that time on the roller-coaster ride, I remember, when he finger-fucked me into ecstasy as we went up and down the tracks. And another time when we were at a football game and it was cold out? He spread a blanket over our laps and just as I was get- ting to thinking about it, sure enough he rammed a finger up between my legs and while everyone else was standing up and cheering, we were sitting there on the bench getting so hot you wouldn't believe it. I had my hand going up and down between his thighs and under that blanket and I was getting a good grip on that boner muscle of his. And it was big too. While everyone was cheering we were jacking each other off. Oh, Jesus, we had some good times ...
"Once when I was late coming home he got all undressed in bed and pretended to be asleep but when I climbed in alongside him he had a boner the size of a blow-torch. It was that hot, too, and I was juicing like a madwoman before I even, got half of that thick muscle into my pussy. It just drove me crazy, good crazy, lusty and wild, just to see it, just to lay eyes on such a marvelous flesh invention as that erection of his. I rubbed him into my hole and climbed up good and tight on that thing. I rode him like he was a little horse and I was a midget jockey. Only I was far from small. My big titties hung down over his chest and rubbed up and down along his body, pressing along his manly titties and making him even hotter. I leaned down close and kissed him and he shot off up inside my hot cunt hole. It was gooooood!
'There were lots of times like that. But because he tied me up in bed and fucked me up the asshole, well, I don't know if I can ever trust him again. You know what I mean? I mean, what if we were to go home today and he were to take out those leather straps again and pretend I was his lady slave all over again. It would nearly kill me to have to go through that one more time. It was everything I could do to get him to come to the hospital today. I don't even know why you want to discuss it with me, Doctor. It's Charley who needs the help.
"Did I tell you why he left me loose? He let me up out of those leather bonds because I promised to give him header. I told him I would give him the best suck off he ever had if only he would let me loose. He said that he would do that, let me up, but that if I tried to be cute and chicken out of sucking him off, well, then he-would give me a lashing like I had never had before, a whipping like my granddaddy in the South never even knew existed. That made me angry, but I told him I would go along with his terms. He let me loose.
"Well, I started sucking on him. I licked that spent boner of his. I rubbed it with my rosy tongue. He loves to see my black lips around that pink hog of his. I went down and scooped up as much of that boner into my face as I could. I was thinking all the time that somehow I must get him to a hospital, that he has blown his lid and he'll take me with him if I don't think quick. And all the time that I was thinking that way I was sucking on the head of his boner. I was getting that cap swabbed with my splayed pink tongue, chewing and gnawing and giving the header that I think saved my life. I sucked him off so good, got him so hot, that he didn't know if he was coming or going. It was the same for him as it was for me when he tied me up. I had him strapped into that mattress with my mouth! It was just as much making him into my slave as he had made me into his. You know what I mean, Doctor? Because I was giving him such good head, and rubbing my titties up and down against his legs and using my hands to squeeze on the shaft and tickle his nutnest, he completely forgot how he was feeling bad and he was sort of my prisoner. Like I had turned the tables on him.
"When he was about as hard as could be I reached under him. I slipped my pretty black hands under his nice white cheeks and held on tight to those pieces of ass flesh. I grabbed on and sucked the jism out of his tube. No way in the world that white man would have been able to escape my hold. I had him, had him with my mouth the way he thought he had me with his leather and his straps and his beating me up and all. It was just that simple .. .
"Well, after he came like that he was understandably tired. He must have shot off five times in an hour or so, and that would be enough to make any man tired. He laid down on the bed and went right to sleep. I waited a little while before calling the hospital. That was about two hours ago. I wondered if they would get there in time, before he woke up and found me dressed and getting ready to leave. I was worried that maybe he would get up and attack me again. So I took those pieces of leather he'd used to tie me up? I took them and tied his hand-he was so sound asleep that he didn't even mumble when I took his hand-took that hand and his other one and tied them to the bed post, only not separate the way he done me, but together, like handcuffs. I tied him real tight. Then I strapped one of his feet to the bedpost and laced it up good. He was still asleep.
"A little while later the men in the white coats came. They wanted to know what the problem was. I told them what I told you, only brief. They agreed that the best thing for Charley was a little rest. I was glad that one of those men from the hospital was black. I was afraid they wouldn't have believed me otherwise.
"I sure do hope you can help Charley, Doctor. You know why? Because he has such a good meat and when he's not crazy he can give me the best fuck possible. I wouldn't have married a white man if he couldn't give me the best screw in the world... I wanted a man who could make me sexually happy. That's why I got together with that man in the first place. I want our marriage to last because that way I'll know for sure I'll be getting the kind of balling that makes a girl like me happy. I'd even give him a little anal screwing every now and then if that would make him happy. And you know what else? I'd let him tie me up, too. Yes, sir! I'd let him tie me up just so'long as I knew that he wouldn't get too rough. I like to experiment too, you know. After all, it would get kind of boring just doing the same old fuck stuff day-in and day-out... But you have to promise me, Doctor, before I go back together with him that Charley won't go bezerk, that he won't just all of a sudden tie me up and leave me that way and never let me loose. I don't mind being tied up and fucked, but that being a slave for real... well, me and my people, we had enough of that shit.,. you know what I mean? Sex is one thing, but slavery ... that's something all together different!"
