Contrary to popular belief, there exists within all of us, the desire to hurt and be hurt. This passion is usually buried under layers of social training and influence, but sometimes it can explode into uncontrollable wantonness.
S and M, the passion to inflict pain and suffering, and to endure the same is one of the strangest forms of sexual activity ever studied. It is practiced more often than the average person would suspect, and our information concerning it is sketchy at best.
Within these pages, we shall attempt to explore a bit of this strange and hidden activity. We shall learn first hand, what it is like to be the giver and taker of savage, brutal pain.
Listen to a few of the voices that speak in this book: Carla W., twenty-one: "Each time she cried out, my flesh seemed to tingle with the most exciting pleasure I have ever known! I could not wait to strike again!"
Mary S., eighteen: "At first the pain was unbearable, but soon I began to enjoy it, until I could not get enough of her whip!"
Sylvia K., twenty-eight: "David struck me savagely with his fist, I tasted my own blood on my tongue and to my horror and shock, it tasted good!"
Marta M., thirty: "I did not mind torturing her, ever since I was a child, I enjoyed hurting things, now I had the chance to explore my pleasure, freely!"
From the recorded interviews with young women...
CASE HISTORY ONE
SUBJECT: Carla W. AGE: Twenty-One
INTERVIEW ONE
Carla W. is in outward appearance a very typical and average-looking young woman. She is tall and slender, with a good, strong body that is attractive without being stunning. Only her upper arms reveal the strength she has.
She came to my office on the advice of her boss, a mutual friend. She was not nervous at having to see me, though her irritation was evident from the start.
She sat down beside my desk and crossed her legs, while lighting a cigarette with an expensive lighter. She blew the smoke away with a flourish and began speaking without allowing me the chance to make any sort of small talk whatsoever.
Her voice was deep and rich, another trait of her more domineering nature that could not be masked by her rather demure appearance. I felt it wise to merely sit back and let her speak.
* * *
I want to tell you right at the beginning Doctor, that I do not believe there is anything wrong with me. I am no less normal than anybody else that's walking around, and probably more so.
It is not my fault that some people enjoy being beaten as a prelude to sexual pleasure. I can not help that. Of course, being a bit of a lesbian can be used against me, also, but this is a modern time we are living in, and such things ought to be taken for granted, don't you agree.
Let me begin by explaining a bit of my past. I was brought up in a very strict family. My father was a harsh disciplinarian, and you had to learn quickly his rules, or suffer for it.
I was hardly beaten at all, compared to my sisters and by the time I reached my teenage years, he handed much of the task of punishing them over to me. To my surprise, I found I enjoyed administering discipline to my younger sisters. I can remember, with fondness, the first time I had to punish one of them.
Though I had known the joy and rapture of punishment myself, I had no idea how delightful it would be, being on the other end of the belt. My second sister, Lila, had disobeyed my father's orders on some small matter, and he commanded me to give her a good, sound thrashing.
As was his manner of administering punishment, I gathered the rest of the children in our big barn for the witnessing of the punishment. My father always set great store in having all of us observe another's discipline, he felt it helped to make his point if we all saw what happened.
Lila was always getting into trouble and on this occasion she was more than a little worried and frightened. It was one thing, you see, to have my father beat her, for he was well experienced, but having me do it was another story.
Even before we got to the barn she was terrified. "Please, Daddy, please do it yourself," she begged him. He was carrying her under his arm, and her little thirteen-year-old body was wiggling wildly in his grip.
"Silence, you little bitch," my father growled as he threw her down into the large pile of hay in the far corner of the barn. "It's high time Carla took over some of my work in dealing with you children. You shall give your sister a chance to practice her new job!"
I was trembling with excitement as I watched my father quickly tie Lila's wrists together with a thin piece of rope. She was snuffling and moaning, the tears running out of her eyes in wide rivers as he bound her limbs tightly together.
He pulled the long, curved hook that hung from a chain over a rafter in the barn and slipped the hook under her bound wrists. She shivered as she stood there in front of him, then he backed off and began to work the pulley, slowly lifting her up off the floor.
She screamed as her feet rose up from the wooden base of the barn, and twisted from left to right until only her toes were touching the surface. Her young body shuddered involuntarily, and watching her so helpless and terrified, I experienced my first sensations of sexual excitement.
"Strip her, Carla," my father commanded me. "Strip the clothing from her worthless flesh and bare her to the rest of us!"
God, how excited I became as I swiftly made my way over to where my younger sister was dangling from the hook. I tore at the buttons to her blouse, pulling them free and ripping the garment away in a frenzy. Her young, budding breasts quivered against the force of my actions and I felt an overwhelming urge to caress them.
I put my mind on the task of removing her other clothing, and tore her skirt and panties away from her in an instant. Her pubic mound was bare almost, just covered with a light trace of silken down.
Her buttocks were firm and lovely, and my hand brushed across them gently as I pulled her panties down to her ankles. I took a piece of rope from my pocket and tied her ankles tight, then stood up, feeling a powerful throbbing in the pit of my own young cunt.
Lila was truly a lovely young girl, and though I did not understand my passions, I knew that I wanted to both caress and thrash the soft, enticing skin that was dangling helplessly in front of me.
Her eyes were full of fear as she watched my father hand me the long, leather whip he used in cases of extreme punishment. To this day I can not remember what it was she did, only the excitement I experienced because of her wrong-doing.
I loved the cold, brutal sensation of the whip in my hand, the coarseness of the hard leather handle, the way it pulled my arm down because of its weight. I balanced it in my grip and grinned at my poor, helpless sister savagely.
"Do you want to do this, Carla?" he said in a brutal voice. "Do you wish to administer my punishment for me, now?"
I nodded solemnly. It was an important moment in my life and I was as deadly serious as he was. "Yes, Father," I said, my voice choked in an anxious whisper. "I wish to do my duty for you, yes!"
Lila sobbed loudly, her young, sensitive flesh quivering with terror, the sweat of fear now coating her body completely. I saw her naked pussy mound glistening with the dampness, and her pink, tiny nipple taut with excitement.
"Let the first stroke be swift and hard," my father hissed. "Let it be clean, Carla! Give her the punishment she so richly deserves! Give it to her, now!"
"Please, no, Carla, I beg you, no," cried Lila, but my arm was already in motion.
Almost before the words left her lips, the whip sprung in an arch that was so powerful it almost tore the weapon from my hands. I watched the tip of the ugly tool flick against her breasts with a loud, nasty smack and then heard her agonized cry of pain.
Her entire body jerked spasmodically from the blow, bucking back away from the whip, knifing upward as if to protect her already damaged flesh. She screamed in pain as I cracked the whip against her upraised thighs, forcing them down again.
Savagely, now, I worked my way around her body. "You worthless bitch," I hissed, boldly daring to use my father's words. "You must pay for your disobedience!"
I was behind her then, staring at her ripe, jutting buttocks, so tempting a target that it made my mouth water and my loins damp with excitement. I whirled the whip around my head and brought it down hard on her naked half moons.
Lila screamed once more in agony and in an instant I saw the first of the welts bursting on her defenseless flesh. The lovely sight of deep, dark red made the passion surge inside of me, and I cracked the whip against her helpless cheeks once more.
The sound of whip meeting flesh, followed by her tortured cries was more than I had expected. The effect on me was almost hypnotic. I tingled all over listening to the sounds. My whole body seemed alive with energy, now.
I whirled the whip, savagely, around Lila's waist, then ripped it backward, leaving a thick, ugly stripe around her hips. I cracked the whip hard against her narrow shoulders, digging the leather deep into her flesh, opening up the first of many wounds.
The blood dripped from the torn skin and I almost swooned with delight at seeing the thick, sticky fluid mar her creamy flesh. I lashed at her back once more with the whip, eager to break the skin again.
"Ohh, God, please, Carla, please stop," Lila moaned, her head thrown back in agony, her lips drawn over her teeth in a savage snarl of pain. "No more, Carla, no more! Daddy, I'm sorry, make her stop! Make her stop, please!"
I laughed, then, the throbbing becoming so intense in my cunt that I had to bear down on my legs to keep myself from trembling uncontrollably. I felt the warm, lovely spasms of pleasure tearing through me, now, and I increased my attack on my sister's defenseless body in excitement.
How beautiful it was to see the welts and bruises spring up on her otherwise flawless skin. How delicious to see the creamy texture of her back and buttocks grow ugly and torn with the criss-cross marks of my attack.
I watched the blood drip in fascination, my loins burning with passion, and I dropped one "of my hands to my cunt and kneaded my pussy, while I continued to strike her with the whip in my other hand.
You would not think a mere fourteen-year-old girl could have the strength required to beat a child for a long time, but I did. Just holding the whip seemed effortless to me now, as if I gained more and more power from each blow I landed.
Again and again I lashed out with the wicked, leather tool, my ears ringing with delight each time I heard the soft, wet kiss of it caressing her trembling frame.
"Bitch, little whore," I cursed. "I'll teach you to disobey Father," I growled. "By the time I am through with you, you'll be sorry you were ever born!"
The other girls watched me with increasing fear in their eyes. They had seen Father discipline us many times, indeed, had suffered in much the same manner, but I was something different.
Father did not have much emotion when he beat one of us, he remained calm and controlled, not even raising his voice. I, on the other hand, grew more and more agitated with each blow I struck.
My voice grew stronger and more passionate, it filled the barn with its harsh, cruel determination. I lashed at Lila wildly, now, cracking the whip against her body in a frenzy of passion and lust.
It would be a couple of more years before I was to find out what sex was, and how my body responded in that way. All I understood at that point, was the fact that by beating my sister severely, a certain hot, pleasing fire raged in my secret pit.
I rubbed at my pussy through my jeans and brought the whip down harder and harder on Lila's back and buttocks. I felt the spasms of pleasure ripping through me violently, then, making me quake and shiver, no matter how much I tried to hold myself still.
My eyes became blurred with the excitement and pure passion I was feeling. I no longer saw clearly, but could only make out the shuddering white form in front of me, covered with stripes and blotches of red.
I caught my father's eyes and they were blazing with what I learned later, was an excitement equal to my own. He smiled thinly, enjoying the show completely, happy to see his daughter performing her task so expertly.
"Harder, Carla, hit her harder," he hissed at me. "I have not yet heard the scream of repentance come from her lips! Make the bitch cry for mercy, beg for my forgiveness! Harder, Carla, harder!"
I was now totally caught up in the awesome delight of inflicting pain. Each blow I struck made me ache with pleasure. Each scream that was torn from my sister's quivering lips made the fires burn hotter in my cunt.
I cracked the whip against her continually, my arm aching, but never pausing in a still stroke. I lashed at her again and again, until her body was nothing but a mar of welts and blood from her neck to her ankles.
She twisted and turned on the hook, sobbing and groaning, her head rocking from left to right on her shoulders. "I am sorry, Father, please, please, I am sorry," she moaned thickly. "Forgive me, Father, ohhh, Daddy, please, please forgive me!"
I cracked the whip viciously against the base of her spine, then, and the air in the barn was pierced by yet another tortured scream from her lips.
"I deserved this, Daddy, I did," she wailed uncontrollably. "Ohhh, I'm sorry Daddy, please forgive me, I'm sorry, now!"
My father ordered me to halt, but I hardly heard him and could not stop in any case. My cunt was pounding violently now, the aching desire reaching a feverish pitch in my loins. I lashed Lila again and again, feeling the delightful relief suddenly breaking through inside of me.
My father pushed me to the ground, tearing the whip from my hands and I lay in the hay, rocking from left to right as the climax raced through me, consuming me with its powerful passion and tortured delight. Though it was a long time before I understood what had happened, I learned that day, the joys I could give myself by beating another woman, savagely.
At this point in the interview, Carla seemed almost beyond control of herself. She squirmed in her chair as if she were reliving the experience and gasped her final words in a taut, aching tone of voice.
I suggested she return the next morning for another interview, for I did not feel she could continue at that time. She eagerly agreed, obviously anxious to share her fascination and pleasures with someone else, and assured me she would be back the next day.
INTERVIEW TWO
True to her promise, Carla was waiting for me when I opened my office the next morning. She seemed hardly able to contain herself as I escorted her to my inner chambers, and once there, quickly resumed her place beside my desk.
She needed no prompting to begin her story again, launching right into it before I even had a chance to sit down and get comfortable.
* * *
Ahh, Doctor, you can't imagine the joys I had during the years that followed. I became so expert at applying the lash to my sisters, that my father never had to discipline them again.
I was distraught when I finally had to leave home after high school. I did not want to have to give up the sensual delights I experienced in giving my sisters the punishment they deserved.
* * *
All through college I ached for the chance to whip someone again, but it came only a few times, and then, because it was mostly in sport, I always had to temper my beatings, stopping just short of the real fulfillment of my passion.
It was not until I took the job with the firm, that I was finally able to find an outlet for my passion. Since I have always been a hard worker, and resourceful woman, it was not long before I had people working under me, and I found my target in one of my assistants, Gloria.
Gloria is the perfect example of what I need in a woman. She is meek, frightened of me, and willing to do anything to please me. She claims to want to get married some day and settle down with a man, but I know how much she needs me and the punishment only I can give her.
I spotted this trait in her the first time I met her. She had milk blue eyes and quivered visibly as I interviewed her. I had never tried to recruit someone for my pleasures so boldly before, but I decided to try it out on her.
I told her there would be extra duties to her job and if she still wanted the work, to come back to the office after closing. She agreed to my conditions, eager to please me, though afraid, it was clear, of what I wanted.
That evening, I waited in the small gym we have in the basement of our building, so excited and eager, that I could hardly contain myself. I wondered if she would show up, and cursed myself for perhaps scaring her away by being too harsh with her, too soon.
But then she arrived, her lovely eyes flicking about nervously. I barked at her to come over to where I was, which was standing beside one of the set of rings we have hanging from the ceiling.
Gloria has a firm, compact little body and I almost drooled as I watched her come over to me. When she reached the place where I was standing, I hissed at her to strip off her clothing at once.
This was the final test, I felt, and my heart raced as she fumbled with the buttons to her blouse, terrified, but willing to do anything to get the job.
She was a weak, silly little simp and could hardly get the buttons free. I pushed her hands aside and did the job for her, then unzipped her skirt and forced it down over her soft, molded hips.
"Get the rest of this crap off, bitch," I growled at her. "You will have to learn to move more quickly when I command you, than this!"
She moaned softly, her eyes growing moist with fear and shame as she unfastened her bra, freeing her large, soft tits, and slithered out of her panties. I gazed at . her naked body, hungrily then, already imagining what it would look like after I had struck it a few times.
I slipped her hands through the rings and tied them to the leather with a pair of scarves. She gasped as I tightened the knots, then bent down to tie her ankles together with a third, silken thong.
"What... what are you going to do to me?" she stammered. Her voice was full of fear now, and the heat began to build in my loins because of it.
I walked over to the motor that worked the rings and flipped the switch, slowly pulling her arms upward. "I'm going to have a little fun with you, cunt," I hissed at her, as I watched her body begin to strain against the rising rings.
She gasped as she felt herself being lifted from the floor, and moaned deeply as her weight sagged against her bound wrists. She was shivering uncontrollably, now, sobbing with increasing pain.
"Please, please, this hurts," she groaned, twisting her head around on her shoulders to stare at me. "I... it hurts too much! Let me down, please, let me down!"
My laugh was short and savage as I removed the short-handled, multi-stranded whip from my locker. I made my way around in front of her, dragging the strands of the whip across the luscious curve of her hips.
"Of course it hurts, scum," I chuckled cruelly. "It is supposed to hurt! That is your function here, to suffer from my pleasure, you stupid little girl!"
"You're... you're going to beat me," she gasped, staring down at the ugly tool I held in my hand. "You mean to whip me, don't you?"
I laughed viciously. "Of course, idiot," I growled. "And if you want this job, you had better be prepared for a lot more of it, too!"
With that, I stepped back and whirled the whip around my head, lashing at her big, spongy tits before she had a chance to reply. The tips of the strands creased her tender nipples with a loud smack and she screamed in agony.
Instantly her delicate little buds sprang up in aching erection and the creamy color of her boobs grew dark red from the effects of the blow. Her whole body jerked in response to the whip and her eyes went wide with pain and fright.
"Ohh, God, please stop," she wailed, twisting and turning in a desperate attempt to escape my next blow. "It hurts, Miss Carla, it hurts, too much!"
I sneered at her pleading tone of voice and cracked the whip against her soft, pulsating belly, flicking the edges of the strands neatly between her legs. Her cry of pain was music to my ears and the ugly blotches that instantly covered her soft, lovely flesh made my cunt pound even more wildly.
"I'm not going to stop, bitch," I hissed at her. "You are going to suffer, do you understand? Suffer badly, until I have finished enjoying myself!"
Once more I lashed at her defenseless body. This time I wrapped the whip around her firm, luscious thighs and allowed the strands to dig deep into her exposed flesh.
My free hand was now beneath the short skirt I was wearing, fondling my own mound with increasing frenzy. I felt my cunt lips trembling violently and as I kneaded them passionately, the spasms of delight began to race through my inner chamber.
I moved around behind the quaking girl and cracked the whip hard against her wide, naked shoulders. She screamed in agony once more, the cry of pain torn from her lips in a savage response to my brutality.
I laughed in pleasure, and lashed her buttocks hard with the whip, thrilling to the way her tender half moons quivered under the blow, and the skin began to darken with the traces of the whip's assault.
"Does it hurt, you worthless bitch?" I growled, cracking the whip against her lovely cheeks once more. "Are your suffering, you little pig?"
"Ohh, Jesus, dear God, yes," she moaned, bucking forward as the whip crashed into the base of her spine, brutally. "Ohhh, Miss Carla, please, for the love of God, it hurts too much, too much!"
The little fool thought she could escape her punishment by telling me what agony she was enduring. She was too stupid to realize that such cries of pain and pleading only served to excite me all the more.
I listened to her begging voice, heard her sobbing of pain and began to lash her flesh with increasing violence and passion. I loved the sound of the whip cracking against her blood spattered flesh. The echo of leather meeting defenseless skin and slippery blood made me weak with wanting.
My fingers drove at my cunt wildly, now, increasing the pulsating delight in my loins, bringing me nearer and nearer to an orgasm as I relentlessly brought the evil weapon down on her helpless frame.
Her body was a mass of welts and bruises, now. I had beaten her more viciously than I ever had anyone else before. Her screams were no longer singular in response, but rather one long wail of agony, now.
"The more you suffer, the better I feel," I told her cruelly. I wrapped the whip around her waist and pulled it free with a savage jerk. "Your pain is my ecstasy, pig! I want you to suffer, suffer unbearably, now!"
She sobbed and shuddered. Even if I did not strike her, her whole body was so alive with pain by now, that it jerked and shuddered involuntarily under the awful agony she was experiencing.
I could pause in a stroke and watch her quiver delightfully, moaning and gasping just as if I had struck her again. I could not contain my laughter of enjoyment, now, nor could I stop the fire that was raging in my cunt.
"Ohh, God, God, Miss Carla," she gasped through tightly clenched teeth. "How much more, Miss Carla, how much more?"
"I want to tear your flesh to ribbons, pig," I growled, laying the whip into her ravaged flesh anew. "I want your back to look like ground meat, scum!"
Again and again I hit her with the whip. I was beside myself by now, thrilled by the sound of the leather crashing into her, and the sweet scent of her blood in my nostrils. My cunt was throbbing almost painfully by this time, my pussy lips quaking against my kneading fingers.
Ahh, the pure pleasure of whipping her is almost impossible to describe. Just to hear her screams of tortured agony, and watch a whole new area of her flesh grow red and torn from the whip was almost more than I could stand.
My cunt pounded fiercely, now, the awesome orgasm building feverishly in my pit. My inner walls quaked around my fingers as I plunged them inside, and the first spasms of impending release began to rip through me.
This time I did not have to stop, I realized. This time I did not have to quit before I reached the ultimate in passion. I could beat her as long as I needed to, to achieve satisfaction, and I grew carried away with my vibrant lust.
Harder and faster I brought the blows down on the little pig's helpless body. I no longer could hear her pleas for mercy, no longer could understand anything more than the aching need that was raging in my loins.
I did not care, at that point, if I destroyed her. My cunt was burning with need, my pussy slippery and wet with juice and my arm continued to lash outward, bringing my blessed weapon down upon her relentlessly.
The floor grew slippery with the blood that dripped from her wounds and my ears rang so loudly with her cries of pain that I began to hear nothing else but the tortured gasps and screams that came from her.
I moaned and shuddered violently as I struck her flesh. Each blow seemed to draw me nearer and nearer to a moment of such powerful excitement that I did not know if I would be able to remain on my feet when my orgasm finally burst in my loins.
I cracked the whip against her shoulders, savagely, now, thrilling to the wild arc of blood that splattered from her flesh and dotted the floor at her feet with rich, red pools.
"Please, please forgive me," she screamed. "I'm sorry, Mistress Carla, but please forgive me, now!"
Though I knew it was only the cry of a demented and pain-stricken young woman, I thrilled to her final pleas and shuddered violently as a powerful, uncontrollable spasm of relief ripped through me.
I screamed myself, my voice thick with pleasure as the rolling ecstasy raced along my inner walls and the aching delight of climax consumed me. I struck her again and again as I shuddered in place, sobbing and gasping, even as she continued to scream in tortured pain and horror.
Ahh, that climax was the fulfillment of my dreams, and just the beginning. Of course the little fool needs me to survive, all she can understand is the pain that I give to her. It is what she needs to exist.
It is too bad that we were caught during our recent session together, but I am sure all of this problem can be worked out. I don't feel there is anything wrong with the way I choose to entertain myself and seek satisfaction, and certainly, little Gloria doesn't seem to mind it either. After all, she still submits any time I demand it, doesn't she? Now, what's wrong with that?
CONCLUSION
I could have said a number of things to Carla, but it was obvious to me that anything I might have told her would have been ignored. It was clear that the young woman was in need of serious treatment and I tried to convince her to seek out help.
In any event, I do not recommend she be returned to her duties until she has demonstrated a desire to probe this fascination she has for sadistic impulses. Certainly the young girl Gloria should be protected from her, and I shall suggest this to Carla's boss the first time I have the opportunity to do so. Otherwise, I fear this affair will deepen into something very tragic indeed.
CASE HISTORY TWO
SUBJECT: Mary S. AGE: Eighteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Mary S. was a bright, charming young girl that on first impression appeared not to have a care in the world. She was pretty and had a good figure, and one would think she had everything in the world going for her.
When she first came to see me last spring, she was wearing a long-sleeved dress that covered her slender body from neck to ankles. I wondered why she would wear such a dress on a day like that, but after listening to her story, I realized clearly that she wanted to keep her body covered as much as she possibly could.
She sat in the chair across from my desk and peered into my eyes as she spoke. Her voice trembled on almost every word, and it was apparent from the beginning that she was much more troubled than she seemed.
* * *
You are going to be shocked by what I tell you, Doctor, I know you are. I don't care how many weird stories you have heard in here, mine will jar you none the less.
I know that on the surface I appear to be a normal young girl, but I'm not. That's why I'm here, Doctor. You see, I think that I am really sick. I think I might be going crazy, in fact.
I'm afraid of a lot of things, Doctor, but mostly of myself, and what I will do to myself. Or rather, allow someone else to do to me. I never in my life would have believed I could enjoy the things I've been through, but that's exactly what is bothering me. I enjoy pain, is all.
It started about two months ago when I began my second semester in college. I had lived a pretty normal life up until then, I mean, I never suffered very much as a child, and my parents did not spank me any more than usual.
I guess I could trace my feelings back to that time. You see, I never really minded it when my Daddy spanked me. It hurt like hell, because he was a fair but serious man when it came to punishment. I mean, he didn't like to spank me, but if he felt I needed it, then he wouldn't hesitate to do it.
But, you see, I liked it. I enjoyed the harsh, stinging pain in my bottom, the way my little buttocks would tingle with the hurt. Oh, I screamed and carried on, I cried as if I were really hating it, but deep down, I loved every minute of it.
I never really thought about those times until lately, until I started going with Freddy. Now those spankings come back clearly, and I can see that even then I was hung up in pain.
Freddy is a Doctor, you see, or at least, an intern. He has to deal with pain every day, and I really think it gets to him after awhile. I mean, seeing all those people suffering, especially the children, really has an effect on him.
He has to take his frustration and rage out in some way, and on someone, and I guess that someone is me. Although I haven't minded it, after all, that's what I was there for, and I enjoyed it, too.
My first indication that Freddy wanted to hurt me came one evening after he had a long day at the hospital. He was in a foul tempered mood, just looking for something to get angry at and when there wasn't any beer in the refrigerator for him when he got home, he hit the roof.
"Jesus, you're worse than one of those fucking kids I have to deal with," he said disgustedly. "You can't do anything right, and you don't even live here, bitch!"
Now, of course I had just come in and cleaned his apartment and made him dinner besides, but that didn't matter. He scowled at me and wouldn't let me even make him a drink, he was so angry.
"I ought to teach you a lesson, you stupid slut," he told me during dinner. "I ought to give that fanny of yours a real working over!"
When I heard that I started to shiver with a mixture of fear and excitement. It had been years since anyone threatened to beat me, and the familiar anticipation that I had forgotten about was returning powerfully.
"Who do you think you are, my father?" I hissed back at him. I wasn't angry at all, I just wanted to goad him into something. "You just try and do something, Freddy, just try it!"
Our conversation went back and forth like that all during dinner. He kept warning me he would do something, and I keep trying to get him to explode into anger and do it.
In all the time we had been together, he had never even given me a friendly tap and now I wanted to push him into some form of violence so badly that I could barely control myself. It was everything I could do to keep from begging him to hurt me.
"Watch your mouth, cunt," he hissed at me, finally. "Or I'll give you a little lesson I learned in school that you won't ever forget!"
I laughed nastily. "What lesson," I taunted him. "You aren't man enough to give me a lesson, Freddy! You haven't got the guts to lay a finger on me!"
That did it. He bellowed in rage and leaped from his chair, throwing his fist at me in a wide, long arch. I could have ducked but I allowed the punch to land on my temple, jarring my vision and knocking me from my chair.
My head throbbed painfully, but I was so excited that it was more than thrilling. I didn't want to have to wait for another blow, so I started laughing at him, teasing him that he didn't hit so hard.
Viciously he drove his foot into my side and a new area of pain burst to life in my body. I groaned thickly, rolling over and clutching the spot where he had kicked me, then I felt his fingers digging into my hair.
"Okay, bitch, all right, you asked for it," he hissed viciously. "I'm really going to teach you a lesson, now. I'm really going to give you what's coming to you, you smart-mouthed little slut!"
God, I was quivering with excitement, then. I felt him hauling me up by my hair and dragging me over toward the couch. I screamed and kicked, but not with that much effort, I was enjoying his abuse too much to try and escape.
"You bastard, you prick," I moaned. "Let me go, don't you dare hurt me, you rotten creep! Let me go!"
Of course, talking that way only got him more excited, which was exactly what I . wanted. I wanted to feel him spanking me, or at least doing something to my bottom, the lovely memory of my father's discipline was raging in my buttocks, now.
He flopped down on the sofa and pulled me. roughly over his lap. "You want to be a nasty little girl, bitch," he growled at me. "I'll just have to give you a little lesson in good manners, pup!"
I screamed as I felt his fingers flipping the hem of my skirt up over my hips, exposing my panties to his hands. He slipped his fingers into the waist band of my underwear and pulled them down to my knees, baring my taut, quivering buttocks.
"Ohh, God, please don't spank me," I sobbed, twisting and turning in his lap, pinned by his strong forearm pressed against the base of my spine. "I'm sorry, I'll be good! Just don't spank me, please!"
"Spank, hell," he grumbled. "I've got a hell of a lot more in mind for you, bitch! I'm really going to show you something, you worthless little crud!"
I watched as his free hand slipped over the sofa to my sewing box and pulled it toward him. I had no idea what he was up to, but my blood began to chill as he flipped open the lid to the box.
He pulled up a hand full of needles and pins and waved them at me. "You think a spanking is bad, bitch?" he laughed savagely. "Well forget about that, this is one trick you never dreamed of, baby!"
He dropped most of the needles on the sofa beside him and kept one, long, shiny spear between his fingers. I gasped in shock and real terror now. This was a little more than I had planned on.
"Ohh, Jesus, Freddy, don't," I whispered frightenedly. "I... please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again! But, don't Freddy, don't!"
He wasn't listening to me, though. I could feel his cock getting hard with excitement against my quivering belly and I turned my head and watched as he brought the needle in his fingers down to my naked and trembling bum.
"Ready for a little punishment, baby?" he chuckled cruelly. "You'd better be, because I'm gonna give you something to think about, cunt!"
With that he jammed the needle deep into my right buttock and the pain seared me down to the bone. He drove the needle about an inch into my flesh and I screamed in agony, so sudden and fierce was the pain.
Quickly he grabbed another needle and drove it into the flesh of my other cheek. Never had the pain been so fierce in my life and I began to squirm violently in his lap as the agony increased in my tender bottom.
I was remembering all the other times with my Daddy, and he had never hurt me this bad. Freddy drove another needle into my buttocks and I cried out in savage torture, wailing as the pain grew and grew.
The sensation of the needles driving into my ass was more than I expected. My buttocks felt as if he was applying white hot darts to them, twisting and turning them brutally into my skin.
"Ohh, Jesus, Freddy, stop, stop," I sobbed, but he didn't seem to hear me. "Ohhh, God, I'm sorry Freddy but don't, please don't!"
All my begging didn't seem to make any difference to him, though. He laughed cruelly and drove yet another needle into my fleshy half moon. Again and again he jabbed the tiny, sharp spears into my ass.
God, how fierce the pain was. It throbbed so violently in my flesh that soon my whole lower body was jerking spasmodically in agony. Freddy seemed beside himself with delight in my torture, jabbing the needles in with a frenzy now.
"How do you like it, bitch?" he cackled savagely, forcing another long, sharp dart almost three inches into my buttock. "How do you like this daddy's way of disciplining you, pig!"
He was calling me names, twisting and turning the needles in my ass and I screamed wildly as he continued to abuse me. I could feel my buttocks dripping blood, now, the warm, sticky streams beginning to flow down over my quivering thighs.
There were at least fifteen needles in my ass, now, and each time his hand brushed against them, the pain seared through me like a burning iron. I sobbed and shuddered in his lap, quaking uncontrollably as the pain grew worse and worse.
The needles were hurting me so badly, by this time, that the tears were flowing from my eyes and I could hardly breathe with the agony I was enduring. But strangely, I felt myself eager for more of them, eager to feel the hurt even deeper in my flesh.
I began to realize that I was actually enjoying the suffering and abuse. I felt my cunt begin to throb as he jammed another needle into my bum, the warm, enticing fire of pleasure beginning to rage in the depths of my pit.
Up until that point I never really understood how much I liked being hurt. I was certain while growing up that it was just because of how much I loved my daddy, but now I knew that it was the pain itself I craved.
I rocked from left to right in his lap, sobbing and moaning in a tortured voice. His hand brushed and flicked at the needles, moving them about inside my flesh and each action of his hand brought new, delicious areas of pain to my aching buttocks.
"You need this, don't you, you scummy little pig?" he hissed at me. I felt his finger pressing down on a few of the needles and I jerked involuntarily against the savage pain. "You really want this punishment, don't you, slut?"
I was sobbing breathlessly, but I knew it would do no good to argue with him, now. He could see right through me, and I was terrified that he would take the pain away if I lied to him, so I nodded wildly.
"Ohh, Jesus, yes, Freddy, yes," I moaned thickly. "I'm such a rotten little girl! I need to be taught a lesson, I need to, yes!"
I could hardly think straight with the pulsating agony in my ass, and the harsh, steaming fire in my pussy. I knew that I was nearing a moment of orgasm that I would have never dreamed of, and I desperately wanted him to continue.
"Hurt me, Freddy, teach me a lesson," I sobbed, thrusting my buttocks up to his hands, urging him to twist and turn the needles in me. "Ohh, God, Freddy, the pain is so good, it's so wonderful! More, Freddy, more!"
He laughed wildly, enjoying hurting me almost as much as I was enjoying being hurt. The powerful passion that was surging in my pit was unbelievable, then, and the savage agony that burned in my buttocks was more beautiful than anything I had ever dreamed of.
I twisted and turned on his lap, consumed now with the angry desires that were raging in my cunt and bum. Never before had pain so overwhelmingly consumed me. Never had I felt such absolute bliss with such intense agony.
I shuddered and sobbed as he moved the needles in my bottom, the roaring hurt finally bursting down deep in my flesh, forcing a powerful orgasm out of my cunt. As I came, he continued to move the needles around in my flesh, obviously delighting in my reactions, and by the time I was finished climaxing, I could hardly move at all.
Mary was trembling violently in her chair by now. Her whole body seemed to be shaking from the telling of her story. There were tears in her eyes and her voice was choked and gasping as she told me what happened.
She finally broke down into uncontrollable sobbing, and I gently suggested that we call a halt to the interview, then, and resume her story the day after next. She seemed to want to continue, but eventually accepted my suggestion, then left my office quite shaken by her ordeal, indeed.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Mary returned to my office, she was calm and in control, but I could see that her self-loathing and horror at her passions were still terrifying her. She took her place across from me and folded her slender, delicate hands tightly together on the desk.
I urged her to begin, calmly assuring her that she could stop whenever it got too much for her to go on. I doubted that she would, however, for it was obvious to me that she wanted to get all of it out as quickly as possible.
* * *
Ohh, Doctor, you can only imagine how I felt after that. I was sick and ashamed of myself, and thought for sure that Freddy would never want to have anything to do with me after that.
I mean, I wondered what kind of sick and insane person I was to have enjoyed what he did to me. I couldn't sit down for a week after that, and my poor bottom ached day and night for much longer.
Things seemed to calm down for a couple of weeks, though, and Freddy never mentioned what he had done until one evening he came home very late from the hospital. I had moved in with him by then, and felt a little worried about the time when he didn't show up for dinner.
I made the mistake of calling the hospital to see where he was, and by the time he got home, a little drunk, he was very angry with me. He didn't liked being checked up on one bit, he told me.
"You pull that stunt again, baby, and I'll have to give you another little lesson, like the last time, bitch," he warned me.
Well, right away I started to ache inside. I mean, just like a sudden wave, the desire to be abused and hurt began to wash over me. I couldn't believe it myself, but I was trembling with excitement just to hear him threatening me.
Almost without thinking, I answered him back. "The hell with you, creep," I hissed at him. "I want you here on time, asshole. I don't have to put up with this kind of shit!"
Now, I really had no reason at all to say that, because if he wanted to have a few drinks after work, why shouldn't he? I knew that, and I knew that being bitchy would get him mad, that's why I said it.
His face got all red and he stood in front of me, trembling with growing rage. I saw his fists cocking in anger, and noticed his trousers beginning to bulge at the front, also.
I knew he got a bit of pleasure out of hurting me, too. He fucked me brutally after the last incident, and I was certain he was remembering that, too.
"Why you little, rotten cunt," he growled, throwing a punch that caught me hard in the stomach. "How dare you talk to me that way? I'm in charge here, bitch!"
I grunted in pain and doubled over, then his other fist exploded in the side of my head and I sank to my knees on the carpet.
"I'm going to show you, bitch," he hissed, tearing at my jeans, now. "Jesus, am I ever going to show you who's boss around here!"
I screamed and started kicking, only to excite him further of course, and his rage got control over him and he began to tear at my jeans with a savage fury. In just a few seconds he had them down to my ankles and he was slapping me viciously with his open palms, knocking me against the sofa.
"Okay, bitch, you want some punishment from me, you'll get it," he hissed. He grabbed hold of my shoulders and pulled me down over his lap like the last time.
"What... what are you going to do to me?" I stammered, hoping that I had just the right amount of fear in my voice. "Please, please don't hurt me, Freddy!"
I felt him ride his zipper down and pull his growing shaft from his trousers, then he ripped my panties down and I felt the hot, expanding rod growing against my belly.
He fumbled with the pack of cigarettes he had in his shirt pocket, pulling one of them free and jamming it into his mouth. He snarled at me as he lit the cigarette and puffed on it to get it going.
"I know what you like", baby," he laughed cruelly. "You like daddy to take care of that ass of yours! Well's he's going to all right, and fuck your lousy little cunt at the same time, too, bitch!"
His threatening words roared in my ears, making my bottom tingle with excitement, while my pussy began to pound with aching desire. The idea that he would fuck me and hurt me at the same time filled me with anxious anticipation.
He rolled the cigarette between his fingers, bringing the glowing coal close to my blinking eyes. "You see this, cunt?" he snarled viciously. "Well, you're gonna find out another way to use a smoke, you little slut!"
I shuddered as I watched him take his hand away from my face and slowly bring the bright red tip of the burning cigarette to the quivering mounds of my buttocks. I gasped as he held the tip just an inch from my flesh, his eyes watching my face, with mounting passion.
I couldn't believe he was really going to do it, then suddenly he pressed the hot, searing tip of the cigarette against my tender cheek and the pain tore through my ass uncontrollably, worse than anything before.
I screamed wildly as I felt the red-hot coal charring my flesh. The stench of my own skin smoldering under the cigarette filled my nostrils and I flopped about on his lap, helplessly, as he turned the burning smoke against my bum.
His cock was rock hard, now, throbbing wildly as he pulled the cigarette from my flesh and quickly applied the tip to another area of my ass. Again I wailed in agony, thrashing violently on his lap as the intense pain grew in my helpless behind.
This kind of pain was so overwhelming, that I could barely keep my senses. It consumed my flesh with an overpowering agony, and I screamed loudly, the tears of pain pouring from my eyes.
"You little bitch, you scum," he hissed at me, now darting the cigarette against a lot of different places on my ass. "Boy, are you gonna pay for giving me shit, boy are you ever going to pay!"
My whole body was being consumed with the awful sensations, now. My ass was on fire from the vicious burning cigarette, which he continued to jam against my flesh in a savage fashion. He did not seem to mind the smell of my scorched flesh at all, and from the way his cock throbbed against my belly, I could tell he was growing more and more excited as each moment passed.
"How do you like this, baby?" he cackled almost insanely. He pulled my cheeks wide and forced the cigarette between them. "This ought to give you a nice thrill, you worthless little pig!"
He allowed my cheeks to close against the cigarette and I wailed in agony as the burning coal was now trapped between them. I could not believe how painful it was. The pain was unforgiving and seared me deep and wide. I sobbed and shuddered on his lap, my legs quivering with the sheer intensity of my agony.
He was laughing insanely, by now. His prick was pounding against my damp, sweating belly and his fingers were now savagely kneading my cunt petals, while he took yet another cigarette and resumed his attack on the outer portions of my buttocks.
Now he was jamming his fingers deep into my cunt, twisting and turning them to pave the way for his cock, while one cigarette continued to burn between my cheeks, and he pressed the other against my fleshy half moons.
God, the torture was so complete, so overwhelming that I felt as if I might faint from the beauty of my agony. I had never felt such ecstasy before, and my cunt was steaming with passion, eager to feel the brutal thrust of his manhood inside of it.
My own voice filled the air with my savage yearning and he eagerly pulled apart the petals to my cunt and forced his huge, throbbing tool inside of me, then. I screamed as he squirmed upward, driving the big, hot weapon deep into my aching chamber.
I shuddered violently under the cruel invasion. He was not going to pause for a single moment, not going to allow me to prepare for the penetration one bit. He wanted to hurt me and I wanted him to do it, too.
I sobbed and shuddered as the cigarette smoldered between my buttocks and the other one jabbed savagely at my quivering buns. He ground his cock up into my cunt, laughing brutally as he buried himself to the hilt inside of me.
"How do you like it now, you bitch?" he snarled at me. He reached beneath my body with his free hand and began to pinch and twist my nipples, cruelly. "How is that ass of yours now, scum?"
I was crying uncontrollably, now. My body ached so badly I could hardly stand it, and the pain throbbed in my flesh with awesome force. My ass was a maze of burns and charred skin and I felt so overwhelmingly wonderful I could hardly speak.
"Ohh, Freddy, yes, it's wonderful," I sobbed, wincing with delight as he gave one of my nipples a savage twist. "Ummm, it hurts so good, Freddy, so damn good! More, Freddy, hurt me more, more, more!"
He rocked his prick back and forth inside of me and ground the cigarette hard in my fleshy behind. The stench of my burned flesh was hovering around our heads and my pain grew more and more delightfully intense as each moment passed.
Never had I dreamed of such wonderful agony. Never had I ever imagined that I could suffer so marvelously. My whole body was now one huge mass of pain, and the thrilling ecstasy of my torture was overwhelming me.
I felt his cock thrusting back and forth viciously, ripping and tearing at my cunt with brutal force. I moaned and quivered, sobbing with delight as each horrible, wonderful sensation consumed me.
I knew that I could never hope to find such wonderful suffering again and I realized that I had to keep him ever close to me. I screamed in pain, let my voice pierce the air, sobbing wildly with the awful agony I felt.
I felt his cock erupt in my cunt and felt him shuddering involuntarily as the hot, thick steam of come spurt from the tool. I ground my pussy down on the bursting rod and sobbed as his fluid filled my loins.
He jammed the cigarette hard against my ass and renewed my pain, laughing with the pleasure of his savage abuse and the delight his orgasm was giving to him.
"You little bitch, you love it, don't you?" he cackled wildly. "Well, don't worry, cunt, I'll hurt you, I'll hurt you again and again!"
I screamed once more, Doctor, thrilling to the never-ending agony he was giving to me, and the wonderful promise he had just made. I could think of nothing more delightful or appealing than to continue with this savage abuse of my flesh for the rest of my life.
So, now you see what I mean? I am ill, Doctor, my buttocks still haven't healed completely, and I know I will bear the scars for the rest of my life. You must help me, Doctor, must help me from doing this thing to myself again! I don't know where it will lead, but I am certain that I will really hurt myself if I don't get some help soon, I am sure of it!
CONCLUSION
Poor Mary could not go on at this point. She broke down completely, sobbing for several more minutes. I allowed her to cry herself out, then gave her something to calm her nerves and tried to talk to her.
I urged her to seek professional help at once. I recommended a few people to her, and insisted that she see one of them. I tried to explain to her that this pattern of self-abuse would only grow worse, and that if she did not stop it, it would surely lead to disastrous results.
I also urged her to move out of the apartment she shared with the young Doctor, for I believe that he is as much to blame for what has happened as she is. I can only hope she will take my advice.
CASE HISTORY THREE
SUBJECT: Sylvia K. AGE: Twenty-Eight
INTERVIEW ONE
Sylvia K. is beautiful, a woman who would make any man's head turn when she passed by. She obviously knew of her own beauty, given the graceful, enticing manner in which she carried herself, but was not one to boast of her charms, either.
She was recommended to me by one of my patients and I agreed to see her late one evening last fall. She was smiling brightly as she entered my office, giving me the impression that whatever was troubling her must be rather minor in degree.
When she sat down, though, I could see the deep, dark circles under her eyes, indicating a lack of sleep, recently, and her hands trembled as she lit a cigarette and puffed on it nervously.
Trying to make her feel relaxed, I told her to just begin her story anywhere and take her time in telling it to me.
* * *
I'm telling you, Doctor, I am really starting to worry about myself. I mean, I have been involved in a lot of crazy things before, but this is by far, the craziest.
I don't know if you have ever gotten into the situation where you enjoyed feeling pain, but recently that has happened to me. In all my life I would not have imagined I could feel that way, but now I do.
It all started about six weeks ago. I had been feeling a little ache in my jaw for about two months and though I wasn't worried about it, I really didn't mind it, I thought I had better get it looked into.
I take pride in how I look and the last thing I wanted was something wrong with my teeth. So, like a good little lady, I trotted myself off to the dentist. He was a new guy in town and a couple of my girl friends swore by him.
I had never had much problem with my teeth, I didn't have a regular dentist, so I decided to rely on their advice and recommendations.
His name was Don and Jesus, what a good-looking guy. He was built like a football player, with hands so big, you wondered how he could get them inside your mouth. He was quite a charmer, all right, and I felt relaxed and comfortable with him at once.
When he got me into the chair, he began to probe with the little curved tool and he hit a sensitive place and I yelped. He chuckled softly and leaned over me, pressing his arm against my chest to hold me in the chair.
"Listen, what you have to . do about the pain," he whispered softly. "Is get into it. People fight it so much that it really gets to them. Just try to get into the pain a little bit, you might find you like it!"
Well, I couldn't believe that, but the next time he tapped at my filling, I gasped, but didn't try and pull away. I was kind of aware of his arm against my breasts, moving back and forth in a leisurely manner, taking my mind off my teeth for a bit.
He turned the probe against one of my sore fillings again and this time the pain shot through me like a knife. I screamed out loud, trying to break free from the chair but he pushed against my breasts with one hand, and began to strap me in with the other. I was in such agony, I didn't really realize what was going on until he had already bound one strap over my chest and was working feverishly on my wrists. I was really getting scared, now. I was kicking wildly, screaming at him to let me go, but he just laughed at my struggles and finished with my wrists, then quickly bound my ankles to the foot plate of the chair.
I was helpless now, and he leaned over me, smiling viciously. "You're gonna be a little hard to convince, I see," he chuckled coldly. "I suppose I'll have to secure your head, too!"
I opened my mouth to scream again and in moments he had slipped clips inside of it, prying my jaws open and holding them that way. He worked a tight metal band around my head and forced my head to tilt way back.
I gulped frantically as he picked up the probe again and waved it back and forth in front of my eyes. "Now, you have to relax," he said, cooing as if he were about to stroke my breasts. "If you don't relax, you can't enjoy the pain a bit. The more you fight it, the less you can get into it!"
I gurgled wildly, trying to communicate with him, unable to believe this was happening at all. I lowered my eyes as he slipped the probe into my mouth once more, and then began to dig at a cavity I didn't even know I had.
God, the pain was like a bolt of lightning going through my skull. He just dug a little with the probe and my scream of agony tore through my ears with a piercing fierceness. I shuddered so violently in the chair, that even though I was bound, I almost flipped him off of me.
"Easy, now, baby, easy," he whispered, unbuttoning my blouse and slipping his hand inside of it. I felt his strong, firm fingers shoving my bra aside and cupping over one of my quivering globes.
"Come on, now, honey, get into it, deal with the pain and the pleasure I'm giving to you," he urged me. "You'll like it, once you accept it, you'll see!"
He kneaded my boob tenderly while jabbing at my sore tooth with the probe. I cried out in pain and shivered as I felt him pinching my nipple gently at the same time. The two sensations raced through me, though the pleasure was hardly any match for the agony in my mouth.
I sat there in the chair, as stiff as a board, unable to accept what was happening to me. I could not believe that I was having my breasts fondled by a man that was also digging into my tooth at the same time.
I began to cry, then, tears welling up in my eyes as the awful hurting in my tooth increased. I shuddered again as he probed deeper, gasping and choking as the scream of agony I released caught in my throat.
His fingers continued to massage my boob, rolling my flesh in his palm, kneading me in the most gentle and tender fashion I had ever felt. In contrast to the pain he was inflicting on my mouth, was this sensual caress he was giving me, and it threw me completely off balance.
I moaned and sobbed, trying desperately to turn my head away, but I could not move, given all the prying vises and straps that held me fast. I was completely immobile, totally at his mercy.
"Umm, gonna have to drill that one," he said sternly. He flicked the sharp point of the probe at my cavity again and I bucked once more against the savage pain. "Yes, going to have to drill deep on that little number!"
My eyes went wide when I heard that. He was actually whistling as he climbed off of me and went about arranging the tray beside him. I gazed at him in shock and horror, my body pouring sweat from my pours, now.
He held the drill up to show me. "Now you are really going to have to settle down little lady," he chuckled as if he were talking to a child. "I'll do all I can to help you, but it's really up to you."
He reached down and pushed my skirt up around my hips, then smiled at my flowered panties. He said they were cute, and slipped his fingers into the waist band. I moaned in shame as I felt his fingers brushing over my mound and shivered as he gently drew my panties down to my knees, exposing my cunt completely.
"Now, I have a lot of work to do here, honey," he said, pulling up a chair and settling down into it. "So just take it easy and enjoy yourself. Feel the way the pain and pleasure will mingle until they are so close you can't tell them apart."
He flicked on the drill and it started to whir, while his hand dropped to the rim of my quivering vagina and he tickled my furry mound lazily. I could not escape the warm, and actually pleasing sensation of his fingers exploring the rim of my hillock, but I could not take my eyes off the approaching drill, either.
He gazed at me sternly, then bent down over my mouth. I gasped as he pushed the spinning drill into my pried open cavity and in a few seconds I felt the drill spinning against the dark spot of my cavity.
I screamed as a red mist of pain shrouded my eyes and the burning torture of the drill cutting into my tooth grew and magnified in intensity. I had been in a couple of accidents, had broken a limb once in my life, but nothing had prepared me for this.
The pain was unrelenting. It took complete possession of my senses. I wailed in agony, twisting and turning in the chair, but he did not stop for a single instant, and increased the movement of his fingers at my crotch.
I felt them probing my cunt lips, even as he bore down on the drill driving the awful bit into my throbbing tooth. The agony was so intense I thought I was going to faint, and I began to feel as if the pain was the only thing I had ever known.
"See how it takes control," he whispered urgently. "See how marvelously overwhelming it is? Ahh, isn't the pain beautiful, isn't it thrilling, little love?"
I was screaming savagely, now. My eyes flowing with tears, my whole head on fire with pain. Uncontrollably I began to sink deeper and deeper into it. The experience was so intense and consuming that I did not know how to deal with it anymore.
Never had any sensation, nor any emotion, either, enveloped me so completely. I rocked violently in the chair, still trying to escape the agony, but I could feel myself being devoured by the pain now, totally swept away by it.
Busily his fingers massaged my pussy, riding in and out of my now damp and slippery passage. I forgot all about my embarrassment and shame at having him touch me. By now I had no thoughts of emotion, pure sensation was all that I could understand.
The pain washed through my body like a falling wave. It began in the center of my mouth and moved outward, gaining more and more territory as it went along.
The drill spun deeper and deeper into my tooth, cutting into the very pulp itself and soon I knew nothing but the awesome agony and the powerful throbbing in my loins.
I did not know where I was any longer. I was lost in a sea of twisting and turning sensation. My head felt as if it were swollen to three times its size and my cunt was strangely on fire with a burning fever.
Don bore down on the drill now, laughing softly as he spoke. "Ahh, I can tell it's taking over, honey," he cooed lovingly, peering into my mouth intently. "Soon you won't have anything left to worry about, soon you'll be thrilling to each savage spasm that you feel!"
I wanted to argue with him, scream at him that he was a monster for doing this to me, but I had lost all the will to fight him, even in my mind. I was so confused by pulsating agony, so overcome with the throbbing pain, that I knew very little other that what I was feeling, by then.
He laughed in delight as I shuddered under his work and moved the drill back and forth in my tooth, cleaning away the last of the cavity. The red mist was shimmering in front of my eyes and I was no longer shocked by the savage and brutal effects of his drill. I was growing used to it.
I would never have believed it possible, but I was getting more and more relaxed with the pain as each horrible second passed. I felt the intense, aching hurt ravaging my jaw, but it no longer drove me mad.
It was almost comforting in a way, as if something I had missed all my life but now was finally getting the chance to encounter. The pain did not leave me for a moment, but the agony of it became almost enjoyable, even as he drilled away the last bit of my cavity and cut deeper still with the spinning tool.
He pulled the drill from my mouth and sprayed out the hole with a water gun. The sharp, jarring spray made me scream anew, but his fingers were deep inside of me, now, pumping back and forth in a rhythmic fashion.
"Just remember, little lady," he chuckled softly as he began to force the metal putty that was the filling into my tooth. "They are both the same, pain and pleasure. They are both the same."
I sobbed softly as he packed the filling in tightly, driving his fingers faster and faster into my cunt. He tapped down the filling at last, firming it into place just about the same moment that a harsh, overpowering orgasm swept through my pussy and made me scream with aching relief.
I shuddered violently in the chair and he continued pumping his fingers in and out of me for awhile, then stood up once my spasms subsided. He straightened my clothing, and undid the straps from my arms and legs.
He released me from the chair, finally and I got to my feet, so shocked and shaken, I could barely walk. He escorted me to the waiting room, giving me an affectionate pat on the buttocks.
"Come in next week," he told me. "We have a lot of work to do."
I left the office, so dazed that I was hardly able to find my way to my car, and by the time I got home, I still hadn't gotten over what happened, though my tooth throbbed enough to remind me that it all had been real.
Sylvia could hardly speak at this point. Her eyes were almost glazed and I thought it best to interrupt her, then, and allow her some time to calm down. I offered her another appointment for later in the week, but she begged me to let her continue.
I suggested we take a break for now, and had her go out for a walk while I studied the notes I had taken on the case so far.
INTERVIEW TWO
When she returned in about an hour, I was still trying to piece together what little I had learned. She seemed more in control, now, but it was obvious to me that she was on the edge of a bad breakdown.
She desperately needed to tell someone about this and quickly, so without trying to probe for any more details, I urged her to sit down and begin again at once.
* * *
As you can well imagine, Doctor, I didn't get much sleep that night. I was in such a daze that I didn't know how to think. I mean, any sensible, normal person probably would have gone straight to the police after such an incident.
But I just lay in bed wondering what had happened, and worse, why I had started to enjoy myself. Yes, I did. My jaw throbbed all through the night and I thought about it, and couldn't escape the fact that I was growing to like it.
More and more I found myself wanting to return to the office as quickly as possible. I couldn't believe it myself, but it was true. Every time I thought about being strapped in that chair, him leaning over me and rubbing my cunt while he worked on my mouth, I found myself aching to experience it again.
I was almost in a hypnotic state when I went back to Don's office the following week. I could hardly sleep the night before, wondering what he would do to me in the morning. I masturbated that evening, but it didn't even come close to the excitement I had felt in the chair.
The next morning I put on my shortest, sexiest skirt and a shocking see-through blouse. I knew I was going to draw stares in the street, but I didn't give a damn, it was Don that I was dressing up for.
When I got to his office I waited rather impatiently for my turn. He came out at one point, saw me sitting there, and nodded, a big grin on his face. The next thing I knew, he was calling me in ahead of everyone else.
He sat me down in the chair and it was all I could do to restrain myself from grabbing at the straps to tie them myself. He laughed and tilted my head back, ordering me to open wide.
"Humm, I think we have some trouble here," he said casually, flicking the hooked probe against a tooth that had been bothering me off and on for years.
He struck a sensitive spot and I shrieked, kicking my legs wildly as the pain shot through my jaw, flipping my skirt up above my knees. He laughed and smoothed the skirt back down, pressing the heel of his hand against my cunt mound.
"Easy, baby," he cooed softly. "You got a bad tooth there, I don't think we can save it!"
I shuddered and blinked my eyes. "Does that mean... will it have to come out?" I asked him anxiously. I was already sweating heavily and the thoughts of what he might do to me were whirling in my mind.
He nodded gravely. "Yes, little lady, I am afraid so," he said, his voice stern and cold. "I'll have to pull that bad tooth at once!"
God, what a mixture of fear and excitement raced through upon hearing that. I trembled violently in the chair, shivering out of control as he methodically began to strap me in. I felt him tighten the wide leather band across my chest, and I laid my arms down flat on the chair for him to bind.
After he had secured my feet, he slipped the metal band across my forehead and fit the vises in my mouth to hold it open. He was not whistling this time, he was all business and I began to fear that he might want to give me something to kill the pain, and that wasn't why I was there.
"Will... will it hurt very much?" I said, unable to keep from stammering. My belly was doing somersaults, jumping like crazy and my voice betrayed my fears.
"Yes, of course it will," he nodded gravely. "It will probably hurt like hell! Worse than the last time, I expect. But you know what to do with that, honey."
I nodded weakly. I was wondering if I had better be thinking about backing out. I was terrified of course, my body felt weak and queasy, and I wasn't all that sure that I wanted to go through with this.
He noticed the look on my face and smiled coldly. He placed a series of instruments on the movable tray beside the chair and picked up the probe and a mirror, now.
"Don't think you can get out of this, baby," he chuckled softly. "I am a professional, I see my job through. You're just going to have to get used to the fact that I intend to pull that bad tooth right now!"
I moaned loudly as he settled down in the seat beside the chair and bent over me. I saw the mirror and probe go into my mouth then he was jabbing at my bad tooth with the silver probe.
I screamed as the pain shot through my jaw, a blinding, stinging agony that made me shut my eyes against the throbbing hurt. I sobbed loudly and he danced the end of the probe around the edges of the tooth again.
"Easy now, baby, easy," he cooed lovingly. "This is just the beginning. You have to settle down, little girl! Get with that pain, enjoy it, why don't you?"
"Ohh, God, it hurts, it hurts," I moaned, my voice garbled by the vises that held my jaw apart and the small suction he had placed in the right side of my cheek.
"Of course it does, silly," he muttered disgustedly. "It's supposed to hurt, what's the point of all this, if it doesn't?"
He sighed and reached over to the tray. I watched with my heart pounding as he lifted a small pair of pliers from the tray. His free hand reached down and fumbled with the buttons to my blouse, pulling them free and exposing my heaving breasts.
"You have lovely little tits, you know," he chuckled softly, brushing the palm of his hand over them, making them grow firm and rigid under his caress. "I think you have one of the loveliest bodies I have ever seen!"
His hand wandered down over my belly and slithered under my short skirt. I felt his fingers tugging on my panties and I lifted my ass up off the chair to help him slide them down over my thighs.
He laughed in delight and quickly worked my panties down to my knees, then cupped his hand over my quivering, damp mound. I groaned as I felt his fingers moving through the hair that covers my pussy, tugging and teasing the strands in a gentle manner.
"Now the fun begins, hummm, little girl?" he chuckled softly. "Now you're going to have the thrill of you life, honey! More pain and pleasure mixed together than you ever dreamed of! Get ready, baby, this is really going to make you scream!"
I gasped as I watched the hand that held the pliers coming toward my open mouth. I could not keep from shuddering violently as he bent over me, his free hand kneading my cunt even harder, now.
I felt the teeth of the pliers fastening against my tooth and immediately the pain raced through my mouth in a savage fashion. As he clamped down hard on my throbbing tooth, getting as firm a grip as possible, I began to see stars in front of my eyes from the intensity of the pain.
I screamed loudly as he gave the tooth a short tug, never having felt anything so bad in my life. I was jerking about in the chair, thrashing against the straps and band that held me, my body reacting out of my control to the torture he was giving to my mouth.
"This bastard's in deep," he grunted, flexing his fingers and getting another grip on the tooth. "Might even have to use two hands, for it!"
I was screaming uncontrollably, now. His free hand was kneading my cunt frantically, at this point, slithering his fingers over my clit and trembling cunt lips, sliding two digits in and out of me.
But I barely noticed his fingers down there, the pain was so overwhelming in my mouth. It throbbed in my jaw like a pounding hammer, and drove deep into my bone, making my whole head hurt from the force of it.
He began to pull on the tooth at this point, yanking hard, while twisting the pliers against it at the same time. Gasping wildly, I sobbed in agony, my jaw feeling as if he were rubbing a white-hot iron against it.
The pain swirled around my face and head, enveloping me more and more. Never had I ever felt anything this bad, this intense and I could not escape it in any way. Desperately I thrashed against my bonds, sobbing and crying out in a long, continual wail of pain.
He smiled cruelly and pulled harder on the stubborn tooth, savagely twisting it against its roots once more. I lost track of everything, now. The pain was all that I knew, all that I could deal with.
It roared through me uncontrollably, forcing me to think of nothing but it. I was so much a part of my pain, that I felt as if I had never experienced any other sensation than the awful, pounding hurt in my jaw.
It was as if the pain was all there ever was, the only thing that mattered. It grew and grew with a fierce savagery, totally consuming me, wiping out every thought or feeling I had ever had before.
It was the only thing, for me now. Pain was all I understood any longer. The vicious, red-misted pain danced in front of my blinking eyes, and the powerful, throbbing feeling overwhelmed every part of my body.
"Is it good, honey?" Don asked lovingly, twisting the pliers again with a vicious turn of his wrist. "Is the pain wonderful, my dear?"
I screamed wildly, gasping and nodding as best I could in the tight grip of the metal band around my head. "Yes, ohhh, God, yes," I sobbed wildly. "Ohh, the pain, the pain is marvelous, marvelous!"
I did not know whether he could understand me with everything in my mouth, but he nodded abruptly and began to tug harder on the firmly embedded tooth. The pain grew and grew to unbelievable dimensions.
The worse it got, the more I was thrilled by it. I could not see anymore, nor could I even hear very well beyond the continual wail of my screams. I was so totally caught in the grip of my agony that everything else was blocked out.
He pulled harder and harder on the tooth. I thought I might faint from the pure intensity of the pain. I could already taste the blood in my mouth from my torn gum and I could feel the movement of the tooth in its bed.
From somewhere far away, he was telling me that it was coming loose, would soon be out and I was almost disappointed, for that meant the pain would soon stop. I wanted to scream at him, then, to yank them all, every one of them. I didn't want this beautiful suffering to ever end.
My own screams were all I heard, now, my own sobbing agony was that only sound that penetrated my ears. I was thrashing so wildly in the chair, that he had to pin me down with his hand, jamming two fingers deep into my cunt.
I don't think he even had to massage my pussy any longer, by then, for I could feel the pain bringing up an orgasm in me from its sheer intensity alone. I was now assaulted by the savage pain and likewise by the pounding pleasure in my cunt, and I realized at once that I was getting all my satisfaction from the hurt that was tearing through my mouth with such violent force.
He braced himself against me, then, and pulled with all his might on my unyielding tooth. I twisted and turned with agony, feeling it slowly working loose, coming free from my gum and roots, gushing blood from the wound filling my mouth and running over my open lips.
A blinding light sent me swirling in the sea of agony then, and I heard his cry of triumph as he gave the tooth one last tug that made me weak with pain, and the tooth finally came free.
I screamed savagely as he pulled it from my mouth. I sobbed and shuddered and felt a violent orgasm suddenly ripping through my cunt with an overpowering delight.
I rocked and swayed in the small chair, sobbing with agony and delight, my whole body consumed by the pain, and the pleasure it had produced. How long I trembled before settling down, I can not remember, but it felt like an eternity before my shattered senses returned to me, again.
He packed the open wound with cotton to dry up the blood and finally released me from the chair. I sat there, quivering, completely exhausted by the experience. When I had finally regained enough strength, he made me another appointment for the next week, and sent me home, more satisfied than I had ever felt before in my life.
I have been back three times, now, Doctor, and I am at a loss as to what to do. I don't want to suffer like this, but I can not seem to help myself. Ohh, God, I am so eager to feel pain, that once he is through with me, I don't know where I will turn next. You must help me Doctor, you must. I don't want to go on like this, I am too afraid of what will happen to me.
CONCLUSION
Sylvia was obviously distressed by this point. She put up a brave front but I could see she was near to breaking down completely. I allowed her some time to calm down, then recommended several people she might go to see for help.
I urged her to seek out someone at once, before this obsession of hers got completely out of hand. I told her that it was one thing to experiment with pain as an instrument of pleasure, now and then, but that in her case, it had gone way beyond that and had every possibility of becoming something truly dangerous. She promised to contact one of the people I had mentioned, at once, and she seemed to have a better grip on her fears by the time she left my office. It made me feel good to think that I had helped, in some way, to straighten things out. I wish her the best of luck.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
SUBJECT: Marta M. AGE: Thirty
INTERVIEW ONE
Often in my work, I encounter someone so completely sure of themselves, that no amount of discussion will be able to change their minds. Such a person was Marta M. A short, heavy blonde woman whose particular form of excitement both fascinated and repelled me.
She was ordered to see me after being arrested at the school she worked for in the country outside the city. The school had been a private institution for young girls preparing for college and she had been an athletic teacher there.
She was surly and short with me, refusing to talk at all until I reminded her that failure to do so, could result in prison for her. Finally she agreed to tell me her story, though quite reluctantly, indeed.
* * *
I do not know why I have to be subjected to such abuse, Doctor. I am not a sick person. Other's may have their opinion, that is their right, but I know myself. I am a good teacher and I do my job as it should be done.
Perhaps when people realize how much discipline children need, how severely they must be dealt with, others like me will not have to endure such humiliation.
It is always the same, in the beginning they say they love you, they want you to take a firm hand, but then, when you do, they cry about abusing the children.
They are fools. I put each of my girls to the test and they either pass or fail. I let them know their place, all right. By the time I am through with them, they don't give anyone a hard time, I assure you.
Everything was fine for a year, until this little bitch Lucy came along. She was older than the other girls, always egging them on to do bad things. I knew she was the source of my troubles in the gym, so I set a trap for her and caught her in the act. There was no way she could get out of it this time.
Girls are not allowed to swim after classes. But she would sneak down with a few of them and go into the pool anyway. Knowing this, I waited one evening, and sure enough, Lucy and half a dozen girls showed up.
I waited until all of them were in the pool, splashing and carrying on, then I came out and turned on all the lights. They screamed and ran for the door but I had already locked that, they were trapped.
"So, you want to disobey me," I growled at them, after I had lined them up along the side of the pool. "Okay, you have to pay the price, now, little bitches!"
Lucy, the ring leader, of course, was standing at the end of the line, looking like the haughty, self-centered little bitch that she is. I made my way to the end of the line and told her to strip.
"I don't have to strip for you, you lezzie," she hissed at me.
The other girls gasped in shock, then screamed as I cocked my fist and drove it hard into the little slut's face. I was quite pleased when she fell back against the wall and I saw her lip bleeding from my punch. She deserved it.
"I will show you what happens when you speak out of turn, bitch," I said. "I am going to make you sorry you ever said that!"
She was wearing a little bikini and I reached out, hooked my fingers in the front of her top and yanked it free. She cried out as the small halter came away from her, exposing her young, round breasts.
The little globes bobbed sweetly, I remember, her tiny nipples already erect from the chill in the air. Her adorable body was covered with goose bumps and I am not afraid to say that I was stimulated by what I saw.
She covered her breasts with her arms and I reached down into her bikini trunks and tore them off of her with a savage pull of my arm. She rolled away from me, her tight little buttocks quivering delightfully, her eyes wide with fear and shock.
I must admit there is nothing more exciting to me than a soft, naked little lady, shivering with fear. I find it very stimulating to see the little sluts that way, they come from so much money, they need to be put in their place now and then.
Now little Lucy was cowering against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest, the fear showing in her eyes and trembling, bloody lips. "What... what are you going to do to me?" she whispered anxiously.
I turned to the rest of the girls. "Get your towels, sluts," I hissed at them. "You wanted to follow her, you shall be the ones to discipline her!"
Terrified of me, they raced to the bench where their towels were lying and quickly returned to where I was standing over Lucy. I hissed at them to get the towels wet and they dipped them in the pool.
I had them wring the heavy towels out, twisting them tightly. I took one of the buckets that lay beside the pool and dipped it full of water. This I dumped over Lucy's quivering body, getting her wet once more.
I reached over, then, and curled my fingers in her long, thin strands of hair. I pulled her to her feet and she screamed as I forced her to rise. She was standing in front of me, shivering and moaning softly and I slapped her violently across the face a few times to make her even more afraid.
"You have been a nasty little girl,' I growled at her coldly. I reached down and pushed her hands away from her breasts, then took hold of one of her nipples and pinched it roughly between my thumb and forefinger.
"You need a good spanking, you worthless little bitch," I said quietly. "And these young ladies shall give it to you!"
I turned and smiled at the other girls. "She is going to walk up and down in front of you, ladies," I told them. "I want you to hit her as hard as you can with those towels, until I tell you to stop."
I warned them that if they did not strike her with all their might, then they would take her place, one by one. The girls looked at each other, then at the now sobbing Lucy, but said nothing.
"Get going, slut," I hissed and slapped her hard on the buttocks with my palm. I do not know if you have ever been struck on your flesh while wet, with a damp towel, Doctor, but let me assure you, it is rather painful.
It stings deep, much worse than you would expect, and I knew that Lucy was aware of this, also. Nevertheless, I pushed her forward and she slowly made her way down toward the waiting girls.
The first girl, one that I knew was in competition with Lucy for the girl's loyalty, whirled her towel around her head and struck the girl hard on the buttocks, her blow given with obvious relish.
The loud, stinging crack of the towel snapping against Lucy's naked, damp bottom filled the air, followed by her scream of pain. Her hands went to the area attacked, and even before she clasped her burning cheek, I could see a deep, red welt rising on her tender, creamy flesh.
The next girl lashed out at her naked thighs and she cried out once more as the blow landed, filling the air with a mixture of wet, smacking noise and her savage cry of pain.
Now the girls grew more excited about their task. The next girl in line hit Lucy as hard as she could on the shoulders, will the other smacked her towel against the girl's taut, firm breasts.
Her nipples grew swollen immediately, and I knew the pain that she felt their, must be particularly intense. The girls now fayed at her wildly, snapping their towels with delight, growing more passionate in their attack.
Lucy twisted and turned against the raining blows, trying desperately to cover herself, each time exposing another area of flesh for one of them to attack. It was delightful to watch indeed, and I was growing more and more excited by it, indeed.
I have always found pleasure in watching someone pay for their misdeeds. Seeing someone endure punishment for an error or lack of respect is fulfilling to me. Now, as the vicious blows crashed against Lucy's body, my own loins grew warm and damp, and a pleasing liquid fever began to ripple through my body.
Again and again the girls lashed out at her. The once creamy flesh was now covered with welts and bruises, ugly, red blotches staining her alabaster skin, as she twisted and turned with each harsh, stinging blow.
She screamed wildly, crying out in pain and punching blindly in a vain effort to protect herself. I was breathing heavily, now, laughing coldly under my breath, urging the other girls on.
"Harder, fools, beat her harder," I hissed at them. "Make her regret her remarks to her teacher, make her suffer for daring to speak to me as she did!"
Slowly they drove Lucy to her knees. The blows landed again and again. One caught her so painfully on the thighs, that her legs buckled and she slipped to the damp tile beside the pool under a harsh rain of blows.
They lashed at her again and again, while I looked on, smiling with satisfaction. Finally, when she lay on her belly, covering only her head with her hands, allowing the rest of her body to accept the blows, I called a halt to the beating.
"Enough," I said sharply. "Her flesh is numb, she can not feel it anymore. We shall have to awaken her skin before we continue!"
I ordered the girl's to drag Lucy into the shower room and two of them took hold" of her under her arms and pulled her to her feet. Quickly I marched them into the large, warm room, filled with tiny stalls.
They pushed Lucy into one of them and I smiled as I put my hands on the knobs that controlled the water. "This shall get her attention," I said cruelly. I turned the cold water on fully and the stinging spray hit the semi-conscious girl powerfully.
She gasped and sputtered, screaming as she woke up. She tried to escape from the narrow stall, but two of the girls shoved her back inside. The icy cold water hurt like tiny needles, I knew, but that was nothing compared to what I planned on doing next. I gripped the knobs tightly and hissed at the girl in my coldest voice.
"A little cold is it, bitch?" I laughed. "Well, perhaps we can warm you up." With that, I spun off the cold water and turned on the hot, moving so quickly that the moment the cold ceased to attack her body, the hot began to rain down on her in all its steaming power.
She screamed savagely, and went insane with the pain. Desperately she tried to get out of the stall, but the other girls kept shoving and punching her back. She twisted and shuddered under the harsh, almost boiling" spray, screaming and begging me to let her go.
"Ohh, Jesus, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry," she wailed. "I... ohh, God, it hurts, it hurts! Stop it, please, please, I'm sorry, stop it!"
I ignored her pleas for mercy, for I was not finished yet. I laughed at her agony and growled at her through my teeth. "This is just the beginning, bitch," I said to the pleading girl. "You haven't experienced anything as yet!"
She continued to sob and cry out, backing against the wall, turning her shapely little ass to the horrible rain of water. I watched with a throbbing ache in my loins now, knowing that I was going to be enjoying myself much more before I was finished with her. I had plenty of other things I intended to do.
* * *
Marta paused in her story at this point, telling me bluntly that she wanted to take a brief recess. She claimed to be hungry and demanded a hour or so to relax. There was little I could do but agree, so I pushed up my other appointments and told her to return in the afternoon.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Marta returned, she seemed happy and unconcerned. How she could have even thought about eating after the torture she had put the girl through still on her mind, escaped me, but I said nothing.
She sat down in the chair across from me again and lit up a cigarette with a casual air. She seemed completely without any sort of remorse whatsoever, and indeed, seemed quite eager to continue with her brutal narrative.
* * *
You, of course, could have no idea of how satisfying it is to take one of these rich bitches down a peg or two, Doctor. I have dealt with them all my life, however and I know what they need.
As I continued to allow the brutal spray of steaming water to pour down on the girl, I felt more and more content with myself. Her flesh was turning redder and redder under the spray of the shower and her screams reached a piercing wail after a time.
"How do you like it, little slut?" I growled at her. "How do you like having to pay for something, now, bitch?"
"Ohh, please, please, Miss Marta, I'm sorry, I am," she gasped, almost unable to speak, so vicious and painful was her position. "I... ohhh, dear God, let me out of here! Please, I'm dying, let me out of here!"
I laughed wildly, turning the water back to icy cold once more. She jerked about spasmodically as the pain of hot water was replaced instantly by the equally agonizing sensation of cold.
She thrashed helplessly in the torture chamber I had devised for her, banging off the walls in a desperate effort to avoid the continual spray that rained down on her now, damaged flesh.
I alternated between hot and cold for awhile longer, until she was so exhausted by her attempts to resist, and the throbbing, never-ceasing pain, that I could tell she was ready to pass out once more.
She began to slip to the floor and I quickly shut off the water. "Drag her out of there," I commanded the other girls. "She loves the pool so much, we shall allow her to swim for as long as she likes!"
Now three of the girls had to help her back into the pool room. She was so dazed and exhausted by what I had done to her so far, that she could barely remain on her feet for more than a few moments.
I took two strands of cord from my pocket and while the girl's held her I quickly tied her wrists and ankles. I knotted the cord so tightly that she would never be able to work it loose, then I smiled at her wickedly.
"You love to swim in my pool, don't you little bitch?" I whispered to her softly. "I wonder how well you'll swim like this, humm? Shall we find out, pig?"
Her eyes were wide with terror now. She shuddered and tried to claw at the cord with her fingers. "No... I... ohh, Jesus, please, no, please!" she sobbed in terror. "Don't, Miss Marta, ohhh, please, God, don't!"
God, how I loved to hear that little slut begging me. I turned to the two strongest girls and ordered them to take hold of her wrists and ankles. They bent over and grasped her limbs, lifting her kicking, jerking body off the tile.
I counted to three, taking my time, watching with satisfaction as they swung her back and forth in increasing arcs. On the count of three, they released her, throwing her far out into the deep pool.
She landed on her back and immediately sank down into the water. She came up once more, kicking and gagging on the water, then frantically began to make her way to the side of the pool, knifing her body forward.
She was obviously terrified, now, and I could not keep from trembling with excitement as I watched her frenzied efforts to get to safety. I waited until she had grabbed hold of the gutter with her fingers, then I bent over the side of the pool and stared at her with a grim smile.
"I thought you liked to swim, little pig," I said coolly. "I don't see you swimming, bitch! Come on, I said you could swim all you like, now do it!"
With that, I pulled her fingers loose from the gutter and she screamed as I pushed her back into the center of the pool once more. She thrashed in the water, making her way back, expending more and more energy in her terror to grab hold of something again. I removed the rubber hose I keep for discipline from my pocket and waited until she had a firm grip on the gutter once more.
"None of that, little slut," I cautioned her, bringing the hose down hard on her knuckles. "You have to swim, bitch, now swim!"
She cried out in tortured yelps as I continued to slam the hose down hard on her fingers until she let go of the gutter and sank down into the water again. She came sputtering and choking and now began to attempt to work her way down to the shallow end of the pool.
I toyed with her, allowing her to grab hold of the gutter for a moment, before bringing the hose down on her fingers again. I allowed her to believe she would reach the shallow end and just before she did, I shifted to the long, life-saving pole that was handing from hooks on the wall.
I quickly picked it up and drove the rubber-tipped end of it into her belly, pushing hard and forcing her back out to deep water. Each time she tried to grasp hold of the pole, I yanked it free and slammed it into her belly again.
The girl was terrified completely now, struggling wildly to stay afloat, sinking swiftly each time she reached the surface. "I... I can't swim any longer,'" she sobbed, gasping on a mouthful of water. "Ohh, dear God, Miss Marta, I'm going to drown!"
"Then drown you worthless bitch," I hissed, pushing her down into the water with the end of the pole. "Go ahead and drown, no one will save you!"
She was too far into the center of the pool now to make her way back, and almost all of her strength was gone. Helplessly she gagged and shuddered in the water, sinking down and struggling to come up again.
There is very little worse than drowning with other's watching, Doctor. It is a form of execution that few have explored. To feel that helpless, that alone, to see the eyes of others watching you die is truly a horrifying experience.
We all watched as she made her last, vain attempts to stay above the surface of the water. Her eyes were full of fear and horror, and the twisted, agonized expression on her face was an absolutely delicious sight to me.
Slowly she went down, tried to come up and could not. Through the blur of the water, she could see the grin on my face, and I could see the agony on hers. I laughed savagely as she gagged and churned in the water, unable to rise any longer.
After a few moments of allowing her to suffer that way, I ordered two of the girls to jump in after her, and pull her back to the edge of the pool. She was gagging and choking when I pulled her up on the tiles, almost unconscious by now.
I commanded the other girls to bind her wrists to one of the hooks hanging from the wall, -then I removed the last instrument of punishment from my coat pocket. It is a delightful little devise, that coupled with another instrument of discipline produces marvelous results indeed.
I slapped her until she was conscious again then showed her the final instrument of my punishment. "You see this little paddle," I told her happily. "Notice the tacks embedded in it, slut. They don't go very deep, but they do penetrate the skin far enough for my purposes.
"Ohh, please, I'll do anything, Miss Marta," the frightened and exhausted girl told me. "I swear it, I won't ever disobey you again, just don't hurt me any more, please please don't hurt me anymore!"
I ran my hand down over the graceful curve of her spine, kneading her flesh brutally. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her narrow shoulders, even as my hand rode over the delicate hump of her jutting behind.
"Little bitch, you haven't suffered at all, yet," I whispered to her, kissing her back softly. "You are going to carry my will with you for quite a few days, I promise you, bitch!"
Her bottom was enticing and soft. The two pert cheeks of her buttocks spongy and ripe with her youth. My loins were on fire, now, and I knew that only inflicting more pain on her would satisfy me.
"I want all of you to pay close attention to this," I growled to the other girls. "And I want you to remember that this could happen to any of you! Think about it the next time you plan on defying me!"
I stepped back then and lay the edge of the tack-studded paddle against Lucy's taut, hard buttocks. She was holding them firm in fear of what I was going to do to her, which pleased me all the more, for it would increase the pain of what she was about to endure.
Slowly I pulled my arm back, then brought the board down hard against her tender behind. She screamed wildly as the tiny needles of the tacks dug into her flesh, puncturing her bum with a dozen tiny pin-pricks.
She screamed again as I slammed the board against her other cheek. The tacks hardly broke her flesh at all, but little spots of blood began to appear on her skin and those were the only wounds I needed to make with the tool.
Now, I turned and handed the board to one of the girls. "You shall all help me as before," I told them. "Each of you shall take your turn!"
I pointed to the spot between her shoulder blades and the girl cracked the board against the place I had indicated. Again Lucy squealed in pain, her little body bucking with the force of the blow. Each girl took her turn, cracking the board as hard as she could against the girl's exposed and defenseless body, until her flesh was covered with dozens of tiny marks, from neck to buttocks.
I inspected the tiny wounds, none of which would leave a trace of a scar and nodded my approval. I turned and faced the girls, smiling savagely. I had one last little trick for miss Lucy, something that would complete this series of punishments.
I always feel that after a girl is disciplined, she ought to carry a reminder with her for awhile, just so she can't forget the discipline, once out of sight of the teacher that gave it to her.
I knew that the beatings and the water treatment would fade away very soon, but what I had in mind was going to be with her for days, I hoped. The young girl was moaning softly, now, just shivering in place, her body swaying from left to right in a most attractive fashion.
I would have loved to turn her around and force her to her knees in front of me, make her give me pleasure in front of the rest of them, but I knew that that would not serve my purpose.
I was sure there would be another time for that, and at this moment, I had other things on my mind. I bent to the girl's ear and whispered in a low, cold voice.
"Now you have reached the point where you think you can stand anything, don't you, pig?" I said viciously. "I realize that, I know, too, that you might even think you can joke this all off, later on! Well, you may as well forget about that, scum, you'll be too busy suffering for any kinds of jokes, little Miss!"
With that I got the coffee can I had hidden under the seats on the platform beside the pool and took the lid off. I dipped my finger into the powder inside the can and pressed it to the girl's trembling lips.
"Tell me, slut, what is this you are tasting?" I asked coolly. "Can you recognize the taste of this material!"
She gagged and sputtered. "Ohh, God, it's salt," she moaned softly. "Ohh, no, please, please, Miss Marta! Not that, nooo, not that!"
"Yes, bitch, salt for your wounds," I cackled. She screamed in terror as I stepped back and began to pour the powder over her back and buttocks, covering her wounds with the salt, pouring it on until a fine film of the salt completely coated her body.
She screamed and jerked against the bonds as the salt settled into the dozens of little punctures in her flesh. Each time it melted away by her blood, I poured more and more of it on her wounds.
The pain was horrifying, I was sure, and her cries and savage wails rang in my ears with a delightful, piercing force. She jerked and shuddered but of course, could not escape me, and I continued coating her flesh again and again.
The savage, stinging pain was consuming the young girl now. Never had her screams of agony been louder. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I continued the process until I was certain that the salt would remain in her wounds for quite some time.
I released her, finally, and she raced to the pool, diving in to wash the salt from her body. It would not do her any good, though, for it was in her dozens of wounds, now, and only time would melt it away.
Of course she talked, and then they all did. I do not know why the board took this incident so seriously. It was obvious to me that the little bitch needed to be taught a lesson, and I am certain I accomplished that.
You might have me fired, Doctor, but you won't get me to repent. Little Miss Lucy deserved the punishment I gave her, she was lucky she did not receive more.
I don't care what you write on your report about me, I know that there is nothing wrong with me, and I would do the same thing that I did, if I had it all to do again. After all, these little sluts do need punishment and discipline, don't they?
CONCLUSION
It was obvious to me that there was no sense in continuing our conversation. Marta was so completely convinced of her innocence, that there was little more I could do, other than recommend to her employers that she be terminated in employment.
This I did, and I told her I would, but she rejected my suggestion that she seek help. She is convinced that there is nothing wrong with her, and feeling that way, there is little we can do with her, other than protect others from her twisted sense of discipline. She is a very seriously disturbed woman, and I doubt if she will ever be cured. She should never be allowed to teach again.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
SUBJECT: Laura B. AGE: Twenty-Two
INTERVIEW ONE
Laura B. had to be interviewed in the hospital. She was the daughter of a friend of mine and when I first saw her, was almost in a catatonic state. She was awake and alert, but obviously deeply disturbed.
She was an attractive young woman, though shocking to see, for when I remembered her, she had been healthy and alive and completely without physical flaws. Now she was a mass of cuts and bruises, almost hopelessly deranged.
It was only after I had put her under hypnosis and administered a relaxing, powerful drug that I was able to talk to her and get the story of what had happened to her from the poor, suffering young woman.
* * *
It isn't my fault that I want to suffer so much. I can not help myself that I enjoy the pain I have been forced to endure. If I were only dead, none of this would matter, no one else would have to suffer because of me.
My parents have been wonderful, the only mistake they ever made was giving me too much. I have never had to work for anything, never had to really pull my own weight. Therefore it is correct that I pay for the past in the abuse I have taken.
The college to which I was sent was very private, very special as you know, Doctor. Only no one realized how special it was. The Mistress, Miss Black, is a tall, plain gray haired woman of thirty-five and she deals with the students in a harsh manner.
I was foolish enough to incur her wrath almost from the beginning. I had refused to make my bed, and had been reported by my floor supervisor to Miss Black. I did not think very much of it, after all, I was in my twenties, for God's sake, I was no child.
But before I knew it, I was taken to Miss Black's office and told to stand at attention in front of her desk and await her decision on what my punishment should be. I was determined not to take anything off the woman, and that was my mistake.
"So, you do not wish to follow our rules, humm?" she said, eyeing me coldly from behind her big desk. "Suppose I order you to bend over this desk and take a few sharp blows on the behind for you stubbornness, what then?"
; "I wouldn't do it," I replied boldly. "I'm a grown up woman, I don't have to take that from you or any one!"
"I thought so," she laughed abruptly. "I thought you would be one of those kinds of bitches. You think you own the world, I shall have to prove to you that you do not!"
She barked an order to two of her burly assistants, short, squat women with ugly faces and muscular bodies. To my shock and surprise they took me by my arms and hustled me out of Miss Black's office.
The forced me to move down the hall and into a large, dark and damp room that was usually kept locked. I had heard about this room, heard that it was used for punishment of the most extreme nature, but I had not believed those stories until now.
Most of the girls that attended the school were already seated in tiers of chairs, their hands folded primly on their laps, their faces cast with worried frowns.
It was at that point that I began to worry and grow more and more afraid. I tried to pull free of my captors, but they held my arms fast, grinning cruelly as they pulled me up onto a small platform.
They tied my wrists to either side of a T shaped bar and quickly bound my ankles at the base of the pole. I gasped as I saw Miss Black approaching me, a long, ivory handled knife in her hand, the wicked, curved blade gleaming in the light of the candles that were placed around the room.
"We shall have to punish you, bitch," she told me coolly as she drew near to my trembling body. "We shall have to make you see the error of your ways!"
With that she began to cut through my clothing, slicing the buttons off my dress with a deft flick of her wrists. I watched them bounce and roll on the floor, then felt my garment coming free.
I was wearing a tight bra and panties and I gasped as she cut through the center of my bra and brushed it away from my breasts. Her hand dropped downward and she easily severed my panties at the seam and they dropped, soundlessly to the floor at my feet.
I was now naked and helpless and gulping with fear. Miss Black was smiling coldly, holding the wicked-looking knife up in front of my eyes.
"You shall become one of us," she told me softly. "This is a very special place, no girl that comes here leaves without forever pledging her soul to our order!"
"Please, I... whatever I did... I didn't mean to... " I was stammering wildly now, certain that I was in the midst of maniacs.
"Silence worthless bitch," Miss Black hissed at me. She brought the blade of the knife to my cheek and pressed it against my trembling flesh. "You have not even begun to repay me, as yet. This is only the beginning!"
I screamed as I felt a slight, stinging pain from the knife cutting through my cheek. I felt the wound parting and a trickle of blood begin to stream down my face.
I could not believe that she had cut me like that. I flicked my tongue, tasted my own blood and felt my stomach lurch in shock and sickness. I shook my head, moaning softly and blinking my eyes in total fear, now.
Miss Black nodded abruptly and turned on her heel. She walked away from me and went over to a tall, smoldering urn. She pulled a long handled iron from the urn and turned around, returning with it to where I was standing.
"See the mark of our order," she said, lifting up the white-hot, glowing tip of the iron, flat at the end, shaped into the symbol of the college. "Only those of us who have suffered greatly are allowed to bear the mark, soon you shall be so privileged, little scum!"
I moaned again and sobbed. "Ohh, God, no, please, no," I groaned, shivering uncontrollably, the terror racing through me, now. "What do I have to do, please tell me what I must do!"
Miss Black laughed savagely and replaced the iron in the urn. "You shall have to endure much pain," she whispered. "You shall have to cross the barrier of pain and pleasure and become one with your agony. We shall help you reach that goal!"
She clapped her hands and I gasped loudly as I watched the two squat assistants wheel in a table piled with various instruments of torture. Miss Black inspected the devices, smiling and cooing over them lovingly.
"Pain is such a delight, little one," she told me softly. "Why don't you try this particular halter on for size, humm?"
The halter she was speaking of, was a molded, plastic set of cups, each embedded with dozens of sharp little darts. It locked behind my back and over my shoulders by a series of straps and the cups opened up by means of a screw which varied how tightly shut against your flesh they were.
V Quickly Miss Black strapped the halter onto me, leaving the cups free. I was shaking my head wildly, but she ignored my fear and slowly began to turn the screws that closed the cups against my quivering boobs.
I felt the darts pressing against my flesh and I squirmed helplessly, trying to somehow escape them. Miss Black stared deeply into my eyes as her fingers gently turned the screws, her lips set in a tight, grim smile.
"You must accept the pain, my dear," she told me, her voice soft and melodic, almost affectionate in tone. "You must begin to understand that the pain is your friend, that you want to suffer, for it cleans your soul!"
I felt the darts now digging into my flesh, pressing tighter and tighter against my breasts. My nipples were taut and erect and pressed against each one of them was a long thin needle, larger than the other darts.
I screamed as the twin spears began to penetrate my skin. The pain roared in my boobs and jarred in my brain. I had never so much as been spanked in all my life, and now I was beginning to endure an agony I had never dreamed of.
Deeper and deeper the needles and darts drove into my breasts. I could feel them sinking and sinking, my boobs quaking with pain, my whole body jerking spasmodically against my bonds as they drove into me.
I twisted and turned my head, the pain overwhelming me, now, taking more and more of my senses with it. I could not stand such horrible agony. I yelled at the top of my lungs, begging her to stop.
"There is no end to your suffering," Miss Black whispered hypnotically. "You must learn to love the pain, cherish it completely! Feel the hurt, little worthless one, feel it and embrace it, now!"
The pure, naked savagery that she was showing toward me was impossible for me to understand. There was a gleeful smile on her face as she turned the screws tighter and tighter against my tits until the cups were finally closed completely, the needles and darts firmly embedded in my boobs.
I stood there, almost unable to remain upright and shuddered uncontrollably with the rolling agony that was tearing through me, now. I had never dreamed of such pain and found it almost impossible to believe that this was happening to me.
Miss Black reached up with both hand and placed them on the plastic cups, then jerked them back and forth, viciously. The needles and darts moved in my flesh and I screamed with the renewed force of my suffering.
"Good, bitch, you are beginning to experience the true pleasure of pain," Miss Black chuckled. "Do you see how overwhelming it truly is? Isn't it marvelous my dear, isn't it almost God-like?"
I could barely understand what she was saying. I could feel the blood dripping from dozens of wounds on my chest, feeling it running down over my belly in sticky rivers and I could hardly catch my breath, now.
She reached over to the table behind her and picked up a can of shaving cream and a razor. "All the young women who are truly the innocent girls of our order do not have foul and unsightly hair," she told me. "Their loins are bare so that they may be seen for their beauty and the service they can render!"
I did not understand and I gasped as I felt her covering my pussy with shaving cream. In a few moments she had coated my hair with the lather and was bent down, slicing the bush from my mound, with careful, calculated strokes of the razor.
I did not dare move, for I was terrified that if I even trembled a bit, she would cut my cunt badly. I stood there, a deep sense of shame coming over me, as she continued to shave the hair from my trembling hillock.
My breasts were throbbing dully, now, and I wanted to remain still to save myself any more pain than necessary. I moaned softly as I felt the strokes of the razor over my mound, while my tits ached from the embedded needles and darts.
The pain was consuming me little by little. I found it hard to believe that I could endure so much without fainting, but I was growing used to the pounding hurt in my breasts, almost as if it were something natural to be feeling.
At last Miss Black stood up and wiped my crotch clean with a towel. My cunt felt strange, now that it was hairless, and I was never more humiliated in my life as I stood there, my mound clean as when I was a babe.
Miss Black reached down between my legs again and began to tug on the lips to my vagina. I moaned in shame and panic, wondering what she had planned next. I felt her long, slender fingers caressing my petals, pulling them apart, forcing them to grow slippery and swollen from her efforts.
I shuddered involuntarily, a spasm of pleasure rippling through me that I could no avoid nor escape. I did not want to feel this way, but somehow, even the dull, relentless ache in my breasts would not take away from the throbbing in my loins that her fingers were creating.
It was then that I realized I must be going mad, for the pleasure was not only growing despite the pain I was feeling in my tits, but I began to anticipate each throbbing spasm in my breasts, almost, with horror I realized, welcoming them.
The drug was wearing off at this time, and I thought it wise to give the young woman a little rest before continuing. She lapsed into a state of semi-consciousness and I left her small, private room to confer with one of the Doctors.
Already what I had heard had shaken me, and I did not know what to expect next from her. Given the sight of her body, scared and brutalized, however, as it was, I dreaded hearing a story worse than what she had already told me.
INTERVIEW TWO
After allowing her to rest, fitfully for three hours, I returned to her room and found her much as before. I placed her under the drug once again, for she was still hypnotized, and gave it a few minutes to act.
Once she was semi-conscious once more, I sat down beside her bed and began the probing of her mind that had already revealed such horrors to me.
I stood there for perhaps a moment or two, trembling violently. I wanted to stop shaking and I wanted to escape the strange, horrifying sensations that I was experiencing, not so much for the pain, but because of how I was reacting to it.
Miss Black had said I would come to enjoy the cruel torture she had given me and I did not want to believe that. My mind was so confused, however, that I did not know what to think as she lifted another object up to my eyes.
It was a round, gold ring, perhaps two inches in diameter. The shiny gold winked brightly under the candle light and I moaned with the pain I was still experiencing and the utter terror that anything could happen next.
"This ring is part of your bond with us," whispered Miss Black. "With it, you shall be married, in a sense, to all of us. We each wear the ring from time to time, and only one of us may remove it!"
She was massaging my pussy lips briskly, now, and with a horrified gasp, I realized why she was doing that when she suddenly opened the ring, wide. It was hinged in the center and the clasps were filed to needle sharpness.
"No, damn you, no," I screamed, my voice piercing the quiet of the room. "For the love of God, no, you maniac!"
Miss Black turned her lip up into an angry snarl and hissed at her two assistants. "Grab her fingers," she growled. "Do you wish to be wedded to us?" she asked me.
I shook my head. "No, you monster, leave me alone," I sobbed.
She nodded sharply to one of the assistants and the woman swiftly pulled my little finger back against my hand. I screamed in agony as I felt the bone snap with a loud, sickening crack. The pain shot through my arm and the sweat of sudden agony began to burst out over my forehead.
"Again, I ask you, slut," Miss Black barked in a low, even tone of voice. "Do you want to become one with our order?"
Violently I shook my head and she nodded again. This time the other assistant broke my other little finger and the pain was so intense that I almost blacked out from the sheer agony of it.
Miss Black slapped me back and forth to get my attention. She held the gleaming ring up to my eyes and spoke coldly. "You have eight other fingers, slut," she told me harshly. "And ten toes! No, quickly, shall you wed with us?"
"Ohh, Jesus, yes, please, yes," I moaned, feeling the horrible throbbing in my fingers moving steadily up along my hands and into my arms. "Anything, just don't do that to me again!"
I hardly knew what I was saying. Miss Black smiled sweetly and nodded in satisfaction. She rolled the lips of my cunt between her fingers and pulled them out and away from my cunt. I. groaned as I felt her pinching them between her long, slender fingers.
Once more she showed me the open ring. "Now you shall feel the beauty of her becoming one of us," she cooed lovingly. "Now you shall be wedded to us through the pain of your suffering."
She dropped her hand to my cunt and I felt the tips of the parted ring against either of my stretched lips. I moaned softly then felt a piercing agony as she suddenly snapped the two ends of the ring closed.
The sharp tips drove through my cunt petals, snapping together with a loud click between them. My scream of savage agony made my very own ears ring, and the pain was more horrible than anything yet so far combined.
How absolutely devastating the pain was can not be described. It felt as if a dozen blades were slicing through my flesh, tearing my cunt to ribbons. I felt the ring though my cunt petals, and I realized that something had happened to me which I would never recover from.
The agony made me sob and wail uncontrollably, then. I could no longer hold any of it in and I screamed at the top of my lungs, thrashing against my bound wrists and ankles, savagely trying to escape.
But what was worse, was the way the pain was wickedly consuming me, making me think that it was justified, that I should be suffering as I was. I know that I was going insane, but I could not help myself, now.
"Ohh, Jesus, ohh, God, what is happening to me," I moaned, unable to see now, so fierce was the suffering I was going through. "Please, someone help me, please, I need someone to help me, now!"
"I shall help you, little one," Miss Black whispered tenderly. She gave the ring a gentle tug, pulling my cunt petals forward and I screamed anew. "There, there, the pain is good, it is good for you! It makes you one of us!"
She turned to the two assistants and told them to release my wrists and ankles. Up until that point, I think I would have attempted to escape had I a moment's freedom, but I was paralyzed by pain, now, and I hardly did more than drop my arms once they were free from the thongs that bound them to the bar.
"Come with me, my sister," whispered Miss Black. She fastened a clip that was connected to a leash, to the ring and began to pull me along behind her. "Come and let your other sisters greet you!"
Meekly I followed her around the room, her hand pulling on the leash, forcing me to keep up with her as it tugged on my swollen, pierced cunt petals. My breasts were still aching badly and my cunt felt on fire, but I had no will to resist any longer.
"You feel lost and alone, don't you my dear?" Miss Black said, shaking her head with concern. "You feel as if you haven't a friend in the world, well, that's not so, my dear! We are all your lovers and friends, here!"
She patted me on the head and motioned that I should kneel in front of her. I did as she commanded and stared at her with increasing affection. I was so twisted and mad by then, that she was the only person that seemed real to me anymore.
She lifted her own skirt and commanded the other girls to do the same and to my shock, I saw that all of them were wearing rings through their vaginal lips, just like mine. I began to cry, then, for I suddenly felt part of them in some way, though I could not have explained it at all.
"Now you must take the beating that you deserve, my dear," Miss Black told me, kindly. "You must mar your back with the sign of your surrender. Only by suffering this beating shall you be cleansed of all your past misdeeds!"
With that, she told me to bow my head to the cold, stone floor and remain still no matter what happened. I was shivering with cold and fear and the continuing ache in my breasts, but I did as she ordered, so desperate was I then, to have her approval.
Miss Black selected a long, multi-stranded whip from the table. The edges of each strand were fitted with sharp, metal tips and she dropped them to the floor in front of my eyes.
"Are you ready for your punishment, my Dear?" she asked softly. "Are you ready to receive the wonderful discipline that we wish to give to you?"
I was trembling with fear and pain, my heart racing with the thought of even more agony to endure, but I nodded my head firmly.
"Yes, please, give it to me, now," I moaned, my spine tensing in anticipation. "I am so weary of this confusion! Make me one of you, now!"
Miss Black raised the metal-tipped whip above her head and brought it down hard across my shoulders. I cried out in pain, feeling the sharp tips slicing through my flesh, opening up my skin, and I quaked with the force of the blow.
The pain was almost unbearable, but I found it was not as horrible as I once would have thought. Though I did not think I could stand it, it did not repel me any more, for some reason, I was growing to enjoy it, and when the whip landed again, I actually laughed through my choking gasp of pain.
"Ahh, you are beginning to accept your punishment, good," chuckled Miss Black. "That is correct, my Dear, now you are beginning to learn!"
She brought the whip down over my buttocks and my quivering buns ached and stung with pain as the sharp, gleaming tips of the whip strands caressed them. I could feel the warm, sticky blood beginning to seep from my wounds, but I did not attempt to avoid the coming blows at all, after that.
Slowly the pain of each lash grew nearer to the last. It became a continual process, something that never ended. Miss Black handed the whip to each girl in turn and they struck their blows with all their might.
Again and again the lash fell across my back, shoulders and buttocks. I lost track of how many times I was struck, and I no longer cared, as well. The pain was part of me now, I was beginning to understand what Miss Black had been telling me.
I felt alive, then, actually thrilled to be beaten. The pain was so constant, so overpowering that I could not even begin to escape it, nor did I wish to. I felt each blow land with savage force and power and I took the lash into my flesh, willingly.
The blood that was now coming from my wounds was cleansing blood, as far as I was concerned. It was washing everything that I ever did or was out of me and I was eager to allow such portions of myself escape.
Eagerly I lifted my body for each girl to strike. Again and again they rained the blows down on my naked, blood-spattered frame and I only shuddered with the falling strokes, dropping down from the sheer force of them, and not any desire to be free.
My mind came alive with self-abuse. It was whirling with a dozen different ways I could punish myself. I wanted to mutilate my body to prove that I was one of them, I wanted to bear the scars of my surrender on every inch of my worthless flesh.
I know quite well how mad I am. Only an insane person could enjoy such torture, and by now, I was truly enjoying it indeed. No longer did I even think of shrinking from the constant pain, if anything, I wanted more of it. "Harder, please," I whispered breathlessly. "Ohh, God, Miss Black, have them hit me, harder! Ahh, it feels so wonderful, so clean and good! Yes, harder, yes!"
Of course this delighted Miss Black and she instructed the remaining girls to put every bit of their strength and power into the blows they struck. Just when I thought my suffering might end, happily it began to get worse.
Finally they were finished, each girl having taken her turn. Miss Black helped me to my feet and led me over to the urn. She lifted the smoldering iron from the bed of coals it rested upon and showed the glowing symbol to me.
"Now?" she asked. "Do you want to wear the mark of us, right now?"
I gazed at the white of the brand and nodded without hesitation. She nodded to her two assistants and they took hold of my arms and pulled my body backwards. Miss Black ordered me to spread my thighs and I did as she commanded.
"This will seal your bond with us, Laura," she told me excitedly. "From now on, you shall know your sisters by this mark, and they shall know of you!"
I did not look away, but gazed downward as she gently held my left thigh in her free hand, turning the inner flesh outward. I gulped once and nodded and then watched as she applied the burning iron to my flesh.
The pain tore through me wildly, a sickening stench reaching my nostrils from my charred skin. I kept my leg as steady as possible, welcoming all the pain I was feeling, allowing the iron to burn deep into my thigh.
I could not keep from jerking spasmodically, even with the desire I had, not to. My body was reacting to the horrible pain and I felt myself getting dizzy and weak and the smoke curled up from around the iron and my scorched limb.
Miss Black held the iron to my flesh for what seemed like a long time, and when she finally pulled it free, I felt much too weak to remain on my feet. The two assistants allowed me to slip to the floor and I lay there moaning, fighting the urge to grab my burned, branded leg.
After that things were different for me. I grew to think of pain above all else, to dream of agony before even eating. Now, as you can see, I am destroyed by my own madness, Doctor. My body is scarred beyond repair and I am sure my mind has been too warped to be save. I can only hope I shall die, soon, for I can see no other way to end this horror I call my life.
CONCLUSION
This troubling case has haunted me ever since that time. I allowed the young woman to slip into an uneasy sleep after our last interview and I came away from the room shaken badly.
I did not know how she could be helped, for one that not only gives themselves up, but gladly accepts their condition of destruction is almost beyond reach. I tried on several more visits to get her to see that all was not lost, but she ignored me completely. She has been committed to an institution and she must be restrained from hurting herself at all times. The school she attended has been investigated and the said Miss Black exposed, but that does little good for the poor, shattered young woman that lives now in a world of never-ending darkness and despair.
CASE HISTORY SIX
SUBJECT: Joan R. AGE: Nineteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Joan R. was not a very attractive young girl who had the misfortune to be born into a family of decidedly twisted individuals. After a series of problems with the law, she finally ended up in my office for a probational interview.
She was wearing prison gray and her long, stringy blonde hair was not combed nor had it recently been washed. She seemed to be doing everything to annoy me that she could think of and it was not until I pressed her about this that she finally blurted out the reason for her sullen behavior in a story that I found almost impossible to believe, though it was obviously true.
* * *
Okay, you want to know why I'm so messed up, well I'll tell you. You come from a family like mine, Doc, and you'll be messed up, too. I mean, some kids got it rough, I know I ain't the only one. But listen to me, Doc, I'd rather have been an fucking orphan than go through what I did.
Let's start with my mother, then we'll get to the rest of the assholes. My old lady was a real religious bitch. I mean, she prayed all the time. All the time she wasn't beating the hell out of us kids, that is.
Not that ain't so bad. I mean, lots of kids get licked, and a few more than others. I understand that, and I tell you, I would have been happy if I just kept getting beat, I'll tell you. But you see, when I got a little older, I mean around fourteen, things changed. Maybe it was the old man, the way he started looking at me, like I was a bit more than his daughter, now. Maybe it was that, I don't know. But pretty soon, the old lady started looking at me different, too.
Me, I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I was just trying to survive in that nut house. The old man had already put one of my older brothers in the hospital, and when he got out, the kid was so messed up, he hardly knew his name.
But now my mother starts in. She always did like beating us kids. She seemed to get a charge out of hearing us squeal. If she landed a good lick, and you really hollered, boy was she ever happy.
But then the sex business started. She cornered me one day in the John. The house was empty, so I thought, and I was taking a shower. Now it was the middle of the God damn summer, and hotter than a bitch, so I kept the door open for a little air in the John.
She didn't like that at all. "You stinking slut," she hissed at me. "Wandering around here naked as a jaybird, showing off what you got to everybody."
"What have I got?" I laughed, hell I was just fourteen, didn't hardly have any tits at all, and no cunt hair, either. "And everybody where? I didn't even know you were home, for Christ's sake!"
The bit about using God's name in vain was always a sore point with her, and she let me have it, then. I didn't see fist coming and it caught me right on the chin. All I saw was the room spinning around as I went down, then I banged my head on the toilet seat and I was out.
When I came to again, I was lying in bed. I opened my eyes and moaned, then I tried to sit up. I couldn't move and after a few seconds of confusion, I realized that my arms and legs were tied down by pillow cases.
I was spread wide on that bed, naked and helpless while my mother was pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, muttering. I gulped and shivered, getting a little scared, now.
"Hate to have to do it, but she has to be taught a lesson," she was saying, talking as if somebody else were in the room she was explaining it to. "I know it's gonna hurt, but there's nothing else to do!"
"Hey, hey Momma, what's going on?" I said quietly. I talked real low and soft, because I didn't want to anger her. "How come I'm tied up like this?"
She whirled around, glaring at me like an animal. "You little whore," she hissed at me. "You strut your stuff around here, thinking what a big girl you are!"
She moved over to where my head was and took hold of my hair, giving it a hard, nasty shake. "You think you're grown up, huh?" she cackled, her voice crazier than I had ever heard it. "In such a hurry to be big, huh? Well, I'll show you what a woman is, bitch! I'll give you a taste of everything!"
Man, I was terrified. I mean, I was scared to death. I watched, trying hard not to start sobbing as she walked out of the room then came back with some clothes pins and a length of clothes line.
"You don't like being a little girl, humm?" , she chuckled viciously, tying the clothes pins to the line with some wire. "Well, we'll take care of that, for you in a hurry, you little tramp!"
"Hey, Momma, please, don't," I gasped as she reached over my chest and opened the two clothes pins. "Please, ohh, God, Momma, please don't!"
She snapped the clothes pins shut around my tiny nipples and the pain was so intense that it lifted me off the bed with a squeal of agony. Jesus, I can still feel those spring-forced pins pinching my nipples. I though I was dying.
"Want big tits, bitch," laughed my mother. "Well, we'll just give them a little stretch. See if we can't get them to grow a bit, huh?"
I could not believe what she was doing to me. She hooked the clothes line over the top of the door and pulled on the end of it. My little, fourteen-year-old tits pulled taut, my nipples to the point of being ripped from my chest, and my body was up off the bed in an effort to ease the horrible pain I was going through.
"Ohh, God, Momma, please, stop it, stop it," I sobbed, almost unable to speak, I hurt so bad. "Please, Momma let me go, let me go!"
"Shut up, whore," my mother snapped at me. She gazed at my stretched tits, my little nipples throbbing with pain and she laughed at me brutally. "This is just the beginning, bitch, just the start of feeling like a woman for you!"
God, Doctor, I was in agony. I hate just to remember it. She smiled at me, then, nodding to herself as she went off into the other room. She left me there for about fifteen minutes and the effort of keeping my body steady and upright was almost more than I could stand. My breasts throbbed so badly that I had to clench my teeth against the pain, and my nipples felt as if somebody were pinching them in a twisted pair of pliers. I was sweating like a hog and shuddering involuntarily.
When my mother came back into the room, she was carrying a short, polished stick she used to use on us kids where she got tired of hitting us with her hand. It had dozens of knots all over it and when I saw that, I moaned in fear.
I figured she was gonna beat me with it, and I didn't know if I could keep myself stretched like I was if she started slamming it into my belly. She grinned wickedly at me and lay the thick, round stick on my stomach.
"You're a whore, you know that, don't you?" she whispered coldly. "Tell your mother what a whore you are, slut."
I was crying by then, full of fear and an awful sense of shame. "Ohh, Momma, no, I'm not a whore, I'm not!" I told her. "Please, Momma, I'm a good girl, I am!"
She whacked me hard on the belly with the stick and it was all I could do to keep from puking, the blow was so hard. "You shut your mouth, you little pig," she hissed at me. "Now, say it, say you're a whore, you slut!"
I didn't want her to hit me again, so' I nodded quickly. "Ohh, Momma, all right, all right," I groaned, talking through my teeth. "I'm a whore, Momma, I'm a fucking whore, okay? Damn you!"
She smacked me with the stick again and I groaned, my tits strained to the limit now as my body sagged under the blow. My mother was nodding grimly, now, running the stick over my belly and across the tops of my thighs.
"Yes, you are a whore, I've tried to prevent it, but I have failed," she was saying. "It's my duty to do something about this, I know. My duty to try and save you before it's too late. You need to be punished, and I'm the one to punish you!"
She was out of her head, again, and I was so scared I couldn't even talk. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I was terrified of her by now. She was so hung up on disciplining us, that I knew she would really do something horrible, now that I had admitted to being a whore.
"You've had cocks in your cunt, then," she growled at me, poking at my thin, hairless pussy lips with the tip of the stick. "I'll bet you've had a lot of pricks in your hole, haven't you, slut?"
I couldn't help myself, then. "No, damn it, Momma, I'm a virgin, I am," I sobbed, unconsciously thrusting my cunt upward to make my point. "I've never had anything in there but what should be. I'm still cherry, Momma!"
"No whore is cherry," she hissed at me. "You know that, don't you, slut? I'll make sure you're not cherry, bitch. I'll give you another cock to love!"
I screamed as she started to poke the long, fat stick at my cunt entrance. There were sharp knots on it as I said before and they were already nicking my skin as she pushed the huge piece of wood at me.
"Ohh, Jesus, dear God, no, Momma, don't," I sobbed, twisting and turning in bed now, trying to get away from the horrible stick she was jabbing at me. "Please, ohh, Momma, don't do this, no!"
My mother was cackling wildly, now, completely enjoying herself as she poked at my pussy with the stick. Already the sharp knobs were tearing at my cut lips and I gasped and screamed as they ripped at my flesh.
I couldn't believe the old bitch was doing this to me. There was a big smile on her face and she was almost humming to herself as she continued to try and force the prong into my cunt.
The pain was starting to get to me, I couldn't see very well because of it, and it was moving from my tits down over my belly and up from my crotch. I shrieked loudly as she bent over and began to pull on my cunt petals with her bony fingers.
"Got to get it in there, just got to," she was saying in a sing-song voice. "That's where it belongs, right inside this little whore's pussy! Yes sir!"
She was completely flipped now, and I was totally defenseless. My little body was throbbing with fear and pain and I gasped tightly as she pulled the lips to my pussy apart and began to wedge the tip of the knotted, wooden stick into my virginal pit.
God, I thought the beatings were bad, but this was a thousand times worse. I mean, I was a street kid, tough, but I hadn't given up my cherry like most of the other girls, it was the one thing I was hanging on to.
Now, here I was about to lose it, and not even to a guy, but to the crazy passion of my own mother to hurt me. I screamed and sobbed but she just ignored me completely, determined to get that stick all the way in.
I felt it tearing along the walls to my cunt, ripping the flesh inside, forcing my unfamiliar passage to stretch beyond what it ever had before. I sobbed and cried out loud, begging her to stop, but she wasn't paying any attention.
Deeper and deeper she forced the stick inside of me. She began to twist and turn in, the knots slicing through my flesh, ripping my insides to shreds. I never felt anything so horrible in my life.
It felt like she was using a carving knife on me, cutting and slicing wildly, pushing the damn thing ever further up inside of me. I could' not see any longer. My eyes were blurred by a brilliant, glaring light that came from the pain itself.
I felt the huge, knotted stick banging against my virgin .wall and I screamed again, pulling my ass backward on the bed in an effort to escape the horrible weapon.
"No, Momma, please, no, don't do that," I wailed, pleading with her not to take my cherry from me. "I'll be good, Momma, I will! Just don't break me, Momma, please, it hurts, take it out!"
"All men hurt, you slut," my mother growled. "A whore like you, being so used to pricks, ought not to mind this! Come on, whore, give your new John some loving!"
She laughed wildly, humming to herself as she began to pump the stick in and out of my damaged pussy. I screamed and twisted on the bed, shuddering violently as she pulled the stick almost all the way out of me.
"John's got his whore, John's got his whore," she sang, softly. "Come on little slut, take your John, now, take him good!"
I felt her thrust the stick forward, putting all her weight behind it and I screamed once more as the stick slammed into my cherry then broke through and buried itself completely in my virgin tunnel.
I wailed in pain and humiliation, jerking about the bed as she turned the buried stick around in my cunt, laughing at the blood she saw seeping from my torn interior.
She had ripped up my insides like a dozen razor blades and now she pumped the stick-in and out of me in a slow, rhythmic-like way, pretending it was a cock and humping my cunt for dear life.
I just lay there on the bed, bleeding and groaning, totally in shock. I hurt so bad I wanted to die and my mind was on the brink of exploding, I was so messed up over this. There wasn't anything else I could do but endure this until she got tired or bored. Finally she stopped pumping the damn thing in and out of me and left the room to amuse herself in some other way.
"Hope that teaches you what it's like to be a woman, bitch," she chuckled harshly as she left the room. "Maybe now, you won't want to grow up so fast."
She left me there for nearly four hours, my tits pulled by the clothes pins, that rotten hunk of wood stuck in my pussy. By the time she set me free, I couldn't even walk, I had to crawl to the bathroom to clean myself up.
Joan stopped at this point in her story. She kept her face grim and determined, but I could see the tears welling up in her hard, blue eyes. I coughed a couple of times and asked her if she wanted to rest.
She told me she'd like a cup of coffee and while I sent out for it, she lay down on my couch, her head turned against the wall, her shoulders tense in an effort to keep from breaking down.
INTERVIEW TWO
When the coffee arrived, she sat up on the couch and took a sip, then lit a cigarette and stared at me over the rim of the cup. She was still trying to be hard and tough, but I could see she ached to let everything out.
I realized the best thing to do would be to not pressure her in any way, so I simply sat in my chair, drinking my own cup of coffee, smoking silently until she was ready to begin again.
* * *
I know what you're thinking, Doc, you're thinking I made it all up. Well, you can check my records, see if my pussy ain't a mess! I been through hell, damn it, and it didn't stop with the old lady, either.
Sure, after that little session, I did my best to both stay out of her way and not let her catch me without a good layer of clothing on, anymore. I wasn't interested in having her prove her point to me again.
I got a little wild after that, I guess I didn't give a damn anymore, after I lost my cherry. I started fucking guys, and I guess the old man heard about it or something, and that's when he started getting interested.
The sleazy, old son of a bitch started giving me the eye on my sixteenth birthday. He got drunk and came into my room late that evening, falling down over my bed and cuddling up to me.
He stank of booze and made me want to puke and I wasn't interested at all. I pushed him away and told him to get lost and he got pissed. He punched me hard in the face, knocking me senseless for a few seconds.
"Listen you little slut, you give it away to everybody else," he grumbled. "I'm gonna get a taste of that pussy before it's big enough to drive a fucking car into!"
Well, I got away from him then, I gave his balls a good squeeze and he let me go with a scream of pain. But I didn't do so well a few nights later. I came home from school, tired as hell from having to study for an exam.
He was sitting at the kitchen table, heating up some water for coffee, his eyes red and blurred, like he had been drinking all day. He snarled at me when I came in and I was just irritated enough to snarl back.
He cracked me across the face with the back of his hand, knocking me off the chair and onto the floor. I felt him pulling me to my feet by my hair, then he punched me a couple of more times with his fists.
I was kind of dizzy by all this, so I didn't really realize what was happening. He pushed me up onto the table and I felt his hands tugging on my panties. He pulled them off of me then began to tie some cord around both of my ankles.
There is a hook in the ceiling where a light used to be and he looped the end of the cord over this, then hauled me up until my ass was up in the air, and my chest barely touching the top of the table.
I came out of my stupor at that point, screaming wildly. "Daddy, let me down, let me, down," I yelled. "Please, Daddy, I'm afraid!"
"You ought to be, you little bitch," he hissed at me. He grabbed hold of my arms and tied my wrists to the two front legs of the table then stepped back to admire his work. "You need to be a little bit higher, I think."
He pulled on the rope a little more, and finally all that was touching the table was my chin and arms. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy and weak, but I was too scared to worry about that.
"Your mother thought she taught you a lesson a few years ago, slut," he snarled coldly. "But I guess she was wrong! You're still a little whore, and it's time your father took charge!"
I didn't know what he had in mind, but I was terrified by now. I turned my head around and watched him as he went through the junk under the sink and finally came up with a long-stemmed funnel.
Jesus, my blood ran cold when I saw that. He grinned at me savagely and waved the funnel at me as he approached. "Little whore's got a tight ass for her old man, does she now?" he chuckled softly. "Well, we'll take care of that real quick!"
"Ohh, God, no, Daddy, please," I screamed as he put his free hand on my bottom and began to squeeze my cheeks. "No, please, don't! Daddy, ohh, Jesus, please!"
I screamed again as I felt one of his fingers kneading and massaging the tight dot of my hole. I held my ass firmly, terrified of letting him get in there, but he pushed hard on his finger and I screamed as I felt it; enter my behind.
He drove it as far into my asshole as he could, then twisted and turned it inside to force my entrance wide.
After a few moments, he removed his finger from my throbbing canal and picked up the gleaming funnel again. I sobbed wildly as I felt him spreading my cheeks apart once more, then inserting the funnel into my aching entrance.
I screamed as he jammed it deep into my bum, twisting it around until most of the stem of the funnel was firmly embedded in my asshole. The cold, slippery metal forced my tunnel wide and the pain throbbed wildly against my inner walls.
I was gasping for breath, my lungs aching from the choking effort I was making. I watched in horror as he went to the stove and picked up the now whistling tea kettle.
"Ohh, Jesus, no, Daddy, God, no," I sobbed, shaking my head in terror. "Daddy, please, I'll do it, I do anything, but not that!"
"This ought to loosen up that tight ass of yours, bitch," he chuckled cruelly, tipping the kettle up and pouring the boiling water into the funnel.
My screams of agony were so loud that the dishes rattled in the cupboards. I thrashed against the table as the boiling water poured into my helpless asshole, scalding my flesh horribly. The pain that was roaring through me then was unbelievable, and I felt like I was being ravaged by a smoldering iron rod.
He continued to pour the water into my hole ass it bubbled up and overflowed the rim of the funnel. I could not escape the scalding liquid and my ass was being boiled by the steaming fluid.
Never had I felt anything like this before. Even my mother's savage assault on my cunt was nothing compared to this. I kicked and screamed helplessly, begging him to stop, but my sobbing cries were completely ignored by the son of a bitch.
Let me tell you something, Doctor, nothing I have ever gone through since was as horrible or cruel as what happened to me that afternoon. I mean, just think about that for a minute.
Just think about a sixteen-year-old girl tied up .like that, scalding water poured into her asshole. Imagine what that does to her head, Doc, are you surprised I turned out the way I did? I ain't.
Anyway, he just kept pouring that water into me until the tea kettle was empty. I was out of my mind with agony, of course, almost nuts by that time. The pain pounded in my asshole so fiercely that it completely took over. I forgot about everything, even who I was. The pain was all I could think about.
He laughed at my screaming and shuddering in pain and pulled the funnel from my asshole. The remains of the water poured out of me, and I could barely see straight. I watched as he went to the refrigerator, got a couple of bottles of ice water, then brought them back to where I was.
He jammed the funnel back into my asshole and began to pour the cold water into my bum. "This ought to cool you off, you slut," he laughed, coldly.
Naturally the icy cold water had about the same effect on my burned inner walls as the hot water had. The pain raged through me, violently. My flesh seized up from the effects of the chilly water and I screamed uncontrollably as he emptied both bottles into my poor, throbbing canal.
I was praying that I would pass out, by this time. I wanted nothing more in the world, then, than to faint and get away from the awful pain. He had lost his mind, I was sure of it, and I was terrified he was going to kill me.
By then I didn't even care about that, I just wanted to be unconscious when he did it. I didn't give a shit if I died. I didn't want to live any more. I just wanted an escape from the torture he was putting me through.
I hung there, twisting and turning, long past being ashamed or embarrassed by now. My cunt was exposed to my old man's eyes, and my tits falling out of my blouse, but none of that mattered now.
Jesus, I would have sucked his cock dry if he would have let me go. I swear I would have fucked him in front of my mother if I could have done it instead of hanging up there like that.
Finally he finished pouring the cold water into me and he stood back, smiling like he was proud of the job he had done. He yanked the funnel from my ass and I gasped in pain, as some of my flesh that was fastened to it came free with the gleaming, metal stem.
"Now how do you feel, bitch?" he sneered at me. "Feel like trying to act stuck-up with your old man, now, baby? You little slut, I ought to carve a piece out of your cunt for acting that way with me!"
He took a big steak knife from the kitchen drawer and started waving it at my pussy. I screamed and sobbed, shaking my head and begging him not to. I felt him jabbing it at my pussy, cutting my cunt lips a couple of times and I wailed in fear and continuous pain.
"Ohh, Daddy, do anything, please, but no more hurt," I sobbed. "I don't care what you do, Daddy, but, please, don't hurt me anymore!"
He laughed at that and unzipped his trousers. He pulled out his prick and pumped away on it until it was hard. When it was good and stiff, he climbed up on the table and stabbed it into my cunt without even trying to get me wet.
It hurt of course, and made me sick to think of it, but it was better than having him cut me anymore. I just hung there, his hands holding tight to my ass while he pumped his prick in and out of me.
I felt his dick swelling up, then he groaned and I felt the come spurting inside of my cunt as he climaxed. He laughed and shuddered a few times, moaning with delight, emptying himself in my pit, then he pulled out and wiped the rest of his shaft on my belly. After awhile, he let me down, and I left that house that very same night.
Now they want to put me away, and they wonder why I'm pissed off all the time. I ain't saying I'm an innocent kid, but Jesus, I got a right to be mad, don't I? I mean, after all that's happened, who wouldn't be a little pissed off and screwy?
CONCLUSION
Once again, Joan turned her head away and covered her face, this time unable to keep from crying. I sat in my chair, unable to say a word, just listening to her quiet sobbing. I felt weak and ill inside and made a vow to myself to help this girl.
I did all I could for her, and I am pleased to say that after several months of intense treatment, she has an excellent chance to lead a fairly normal life. I could not repair the damage to her body, but I think I have been able to help her rebuild her mind.
CASE HISTORY SEVEN
SUBJECT: Bobbie K. AGE: Sixteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Many times, involvement with sado-masochism can begin at a very tender age. Even before some people are out of their teens, their twisted, savage desires can be well perfected. It can be rather startling to deal with a subject such as this, and Bobbie K. was one such girl.
She was a full-bodied, well-endowed young girl whose figure and bearing made her appear older than her years. It was only after one listened to the youth in her voice and noticed her baby fat that it was realized how young she truly was.
She was brought to me by her mother, a pretty woman whose face showed the anguish she had been going through over her child. At first Bobbie refused to talk to me, but once I assured her that everything she told me would be strictly confidential, she began to open up and tell me her story.
* * *
I know you're going to think I'm weird, but I might as well tell you right from the start, that I've always liked hurting things, Doctor. Even as a little kid I used to beat the hell out of my dolls and cut them up with knives, pretending they were real people.
I never really knew why I did this, nor did I ever really think I would do these things in real life. I guess I just didn't know myself and what I liked until recently.
I like pain, too. That I discovered when I was very young, also. The first time my mother spanked me for something I did, I cried like hell, but only because I was afraid and didn't understand a spanking. Where her hand cracked down on my bottom, the pain didn't make me feel bad, it made me feel nice.
After that, I didn't mind it a bit when she would smack me, though I never went out of my way looking for it. I don't think that she ever realized I enjoyed the spankings. I guess she just thought I was a tough little lady.
As I said, it wasn't until the last year that I started putting things together about myself. I found out about sex and after talking with my girl friends, I began to realize that the kinds of sensations they felt when kissing and petting with boys, were exactly what I felt when I was getting hit, or torturing some animal.
I once dropped a bunch of kittens in a water tank and watching them struggle wildly to get free, each of them drowning in turn made me have my first orgasm. I didn't know what happened, I just knew that I was rubbing the hell out of my crotch, really enjoying their helpless position.
But last year was when it really all began, last year I met Susan. Susan is a nice girl, a little too nice, in fact, for her own good. She isn't very pretty, though she has an okay body. It was her breasts that first attracted me to her.
I liked her big boobs, and after reading a lot of dirty books I stole from some of the boys I knew, I began to think about all the tortures I read about in them. One thing I really got off on was when somebody would hang up a girl by her tits.
I really liked that idea, and I decided I wanted to try it out. I wanted to try both being hung up and hanging somebody else up.
It seemed like a wild idea, and I got goose bumps all over, just thinking about it.
Now Susan wanted to be my friend so bad she could taste it. She seemed to be willing to do anything I asked, if I would only like her, and I kept pushing her further and further to see how far she would go.
Since we live in the country, the teachers have a lot more power in our school, and that means they can punish us severely if they want to. I told Susan to take a licking one time, just to see if she would, and she went right ahead and did it.
The teacher spanked her right in front of the class, and I actually had a climax watching him smack her behind with a fat ruler, knowing that it was because of me that she was getting hit.
A few days later, she was over at my house, visiting and I decided to see if she would do what I wanted her to. I took her out to the barn, explaining that I had something that I wanted to show her.
She had grown a little scared of me, recently, but was so eager to please me that she swallowed her fear and followed me out to the bam. There's lots of hooks and pulleys in there for feed and things, and it's the perfect place for little experiments like I wanted to conduct.
I had devised my own little instrument, copying the ideas from a couple of books I read. I had it hidden in the tool shed, behind a lot of junk that nobody ever bothered with, and once we got to the barn, I dug it out.
It was an elaborate devise, composed of a long, iron bar to which I had fastened a series of fish hooks dangling from tough, nylon wire. You could pull in a three hundred pound fish on this wire, so I knew it would support her weight.
Nobody was home that afternoon. My father and mother had gone for the day, and my two older brothers were off on business. Susan and I were completely alone on the farm, and I was certain that no one would see or hear us.
"What are we going to do, Bobbie?" Susan asked me. She was scared to death and I could tell she didn't like being out there one bit.
"Take it easy," I said casually, moving around behind her. "You're gonna like this, honestly! Now just hold still while I tie your hands and feet!"
I wrapped some strips of leather around her wrists and ankles, tying the knots as tightly as I could. When I finished with her ankles, I slipped a hook through her bound wrists and legs and pulled the ropes tight, so she couldn't move.
She was leaning forward a bit, shivering with growing fear, just as I wanted her too. I debated on whether I should show her the torture device before blindfolding her, or not, and decided on masking her eyes first.
I figured this would increase the pain and fear greatly, for if she did not know what was coming, the first stab would be devastating.
"What... what happens now, Bobbie?" Susan whispered fearfully. "I'm scared, Bobbie, and my arms are starting to hurt!"
I picked put the iron bar and attached it to another bar connected to a chain hanging from the ceiling. I brought the device over to where she was and reached out, unbutton her blouse as I spoke to her.
"You're going to suffer for me, slave," I whispered passionately. She gasped as she felt me spread apart her blouse and unhook her bra, bearing her big, soft boobs. "You gonna make me happy with your screams!"
"Ohh, Bobbie, please, please don't do that," she stammered as I squeezed her tits. "You shouldn't to that Bobbie, it isn't right!"
"Silence you stupid pig," I hissed, taking one of the fish hooks and driving it into her boob. She screamed in pain and shock, jerking wildly against her bonds.
"Ohh, Jesus, Bobbie, what'd you do?" she screamed". "Take it out, it hurts! Stop it, Bobbie, please stop it!"
I laughed in my cruelest tone of voice and drove another fish hook into her other breast. Now she was really terrified and in a bad amount of pain. She swayed from left to right on the two hooks that secured her in her position, desperately trying to escape the awful pain she was experiencing.
"You're going to take it for me, slave," I laughed again, driving another hook into her left boob, then another into her right. "You're going to scream in agony for my pleasure, you worthless scum!"
I was pretending to be a Mistress in one of the books I had read, and enjoying every second of it. Susan kept trying to get away from the hooks, but it was hopeless for her, it wasn't any trouble for me at all to keep puncturing her tits with the long, curved barbs.
My fingers were getting slippery from the blood that was coming from her breasts, now, and I licked them clean with my tongue. The taste of her blood excited me all the more and I forced more and more of the hooks into her flesh until I had at least half a dozen firmly embedded in either breast.
Poor Susan was beside herself with pain and terror, sobbing and choking as she cried, the blindfold over her eyes already soaked with her tears. She snuffled and moaned, pleading with me to stop.
"Ohh, Bobbie, Bobbie, don't," she moaned. "Please, it hurts, ohhh, God, it hurts too much! Don't do this to me, Bobbie, don't!"
I laughed again, completely ignoring her pleas for mercy, now. I was trembling with excitement as I stepped back from her, inspected the barbs driven into her chest, then nodded in satisfaction.
"You are going to pay the price of what I desire, bitch," I growled at her, really involved in the role I was playing, now. "You are going to entertain me with your pain until I am completely consumed!"
I began to pull on the chain that hung from the ceiling and slowly it tugged on the barbs, pulling her tits upward. She screamed in agony, her voice tortured and weak with pain and I pulled harder on the chain until she was stretched taut against the hooks at her wrists and ankles.
Quickly I released those and then returned to the chain and pulled on it rapidly, drawing her up form the floor, now, supported only by the fish hooks embedded in her big, round breasts.
Jesus, did she ever scream. She hung there kicking back and forth, froth coming from her mouth she was in such panicked agony. She sobbed and shuddered, the flesh of her tits stretched so taut that I could see the veins pumping wildly beneath her damaged skin.
"Bobbie, Bobbie, let me down," she screamed. "My boobs are going to be torn to ribbons, ohhh, dear Jesus, let me down!"
I took a long pole and poked at her ribs, slowly forcing her dangling body to spin back and forth. "Suffer, bitch, suffer for your Mistress!" I cackled savagely. "Hurt you scum, hurt for me now!"
Jesus, she was hurting all right. The blood was pouring from the wounds the hooks had made and was running down over her stomach in bright, red rivers. A couple of the sharp barbs had already torn through her flesh and when I poked her again, hard, another one came free.
She screamed wildly, gagging as the vomit began to come up from her belly and bubble over her lips. She moaned and shuddered, twisting the barbs in her flesh even more, and I stood there watching, my cunt on fire from the excitement of watching her in agony.
As she rocked back and forth on the hooks, her body jerking violently with the pain she was going through, the blood dripping steadily from her wounds, I continued to jab at her with the pole and hiss at her cruelly.
"I love to watch you suffer, bitch," I said coldly. "I love your pain. Come on, pig, scream! Scream some more, for your Mistress, beg, you bitch, beg!"
"Ohh, dear Jesus, Please, Mistress, please," she sobbed. "I can't stand it, Mistress, I can't! It hurts too much, ohhh God, it hurts too much!"
I stood there, my cunt pounding feverishly, not even needing my hand to urge it on, now. I could feel the climax building and building in my pit, getting hotter and wetter with every one of her sobbing cries.
I poked her with the pole, ruthlessly, delighting in her screams and involuntary spasms of savage pain. I knew she was going through a living hell and I was enjoying it completely. She continued to wail and moan and my orgasm suddenly exploded in my cunt, so hot and powerful that I had to lean against a beam just to remain upright as it tore through me.
I shuddered uncontrollably, my face beaming I am sure. It was the nicest climax I had ever had, and I was sure that it was because of the pain I was putting poor Susan through. I watched her dangle and turn slowly back and forth for awhile longer, just standing there with the lingering remains of my orgasm still tingling in my pussy, completely content to watch her suffer until I was completely drained of all my throbbing passion.
The hour was almost up at this point, so I interrupted Bobbie in her story and suggested she return the following afternoon. She did not seem to be upset at having to stop, nor did she appear to be at all disturbed by what she had told me.
She left my office, I shook my head, trying to remember when I had ever met anyone so young and so completely unconcerned by her actions.
INTERVIEW TWO
When she returned the following afternoon, Bobbie was dressed in a short skirt and loose flowing blouse that hid little of her nubile charms. I might have been distracted by her youthful beauty, had it not been for the horror story she continued telling to me.
She sat on the couch, crossed her shapely legs and began, speaking in an almost monotone voice, completely unaffected by what she had done, it appeared to me.
* * *
I left her hanging for a little while longer, I guess I just couldn't bring myself to end her torture that suddenly. I had never been so completely turned on and excited in my life, and I hated to put a stop to it.
But after a few more minutes, I realized she couldn't take much more, and if she passed out or something, it wouldn't be any fun watching anyway. I slowly lowered the sobbing girl to the floor, placing her on her back and gently removed the fish hooks from her torn flesh.
I had to fight off the urge to tear them free, and I was shaking with excitement as I eased each cruel barb out of her boobs. I finally got the last one out and she moaned softly as I cut the leather thongs from her wrists and ankles.
I pulled the blindfold from her eyes and she blinked, sniffling and wiping the tears from them with the back of her numb hand. Her lips were bleeding from where she had bitten them in agony and she stared at me, now, with an obvious mixture of fear and absolute hatred.
"What... what have you done to me?" she sobbed, gazing down at her breasts, covered with a coating of her own blood. "Ohh, dear God you've ruined me, ruined me, you vicious monster!"
I slapped her a couple of times to calm her down and dabbed at her torn flesh with a damp towel. "They aren't that bad," I grunted in disgust. "They'll heal as good as new, jerk!"
She pushed me away, angrily, then, hissing at me as she struggled to her feet. "I'm getting out of here, you maniac," she gasped. "You're insane!"
I laughed softly and shook my head. I smiled at her slyly and shook my head. "You really are a dope, you know?" I snorted. "I mean, you're really mad at me, now, aren't you? You're really like to get back at me, wouldn't you?"
"I'd like to kill you," she growled, her eyes flashing angrily. "I'd like to make you suffer like you've done to me, you bitch!"
"Then why are you leaving, idiot?" I said quietly. She blinked and stared at me confused. "Why are you walking away from the opportunity to do what you want?"
I unbuttoned my blouse and dropped it to the dusty floor of the barn. Reaching behind my back, I unfastened my bra and let that drop also. My boobs felt alive and highly sensitive as I caressed them, lifting and squeezing them anxiously.
"Come on, come on," I whispered urgently. "Hurt me you stupid bitch, I want to suffer as you have, I want to endure the same agony as you!"
A slow, wicked smile came across her lips as she began to understand what I was saying to her. She forgot about her own pain, then and rubbed her palms together with increasing excitement.
"Okay, you vicious slut," she hissed, quickly moving around behind my back and tying my wrists tight with the leather cord I offered her. "Now you're going to pay, you're going to pay dearly for what you did!"
I gasped as she tightened the knots, then did the same with my ankles. My heart was beating fast as she moved over to the chain and hauled it up from the floor until the metal bar and blood spattered fish hooks were dangling at a level even with my heaving chest.
"Oh boy am I going to hurt you, you bitch," she hissed wildly as she took one of the hooks and savagely drove it deep into the flesh of my right breast.
I screamed as the sudden pain raced through me, making my legs go weak from the sheer shock and force of it. I hadn't expected it would hurt so badly, and when she drove another hook into my other tit, I almost fell to the floor from the sheer intensity of the pain I felt.
"I'm going to make you suffer worse than me, you vicious scum," she growled. She jammed another hook into my right breast and I screamed even louder, rocking from left to right, fighting the urge to get sick from the pain.
Methodically she inserted all the hooks into my tits, jamming them deep and hard into my flesh, laughing hysterically as I screamed and shuddered from the torture she was inflicting on me.
"Go on and scream, you pig, I love it," she cackled harshly. "By the time I am done with you, you won't even know your name, bitch!"
I nodded wildly. "Yes, ohhh, God, more, yes," I sobbed, the blood beginning to flow from my tits, the hooks twisting in my flesh as I shivered in place. "Ahhh, it hurts so good, so marvelously good!"
"Shut up, you worthless pig," she growled at me. She slipped another hook into my right tit, then pushed the last one into my left. All the hooks were embedded in my boobs, now, and she stepped back, sneering cruelly at me.
"Now you're going to pay for it," she growled coldly. "Now you're going to suffer just like I did, you pig! Now you're going to make me happy with your screams!"
She went to the long, heavy chain and began to tug on it. Slowly the bar rose up and over my head and the hooks began to pull on my flesh, dragging my tits upward. I screamed as the fierce, overwhelming pain raced through me, and the rising bar began to pull me up off the floor by my impaled breasts.
Jesus, the pain was more than I could believe. All the spankings I had ever had couldn't compare with this exquisite agony. I jerked spasmodically as my feet left the floor and the full weight of my body began to drag down on my tits.
Higher and higher I rose, every inch a new and more powerful torture to my aching globes. It felt as if a million sharp needles were tearing into me, or a dozen saws were carving on my ravaged boobs.
God, I loved the pain. My cunt was getting wetter all the time, throbbing almost in rhythm with the rolling agony that was tearing through me. I felt completely at home with the agony, as if my whole life had been building up to this harsh, cruel moment of overwhelming pain.
I know that sounds like crazy, fantastic talk. I don't care. I have done a lot of reading and I know what I felt like. If you have never felt the kind of pain I have you can't begin to understand it at all, Doctor.
My breasts were on fire with the pain. The blood was pumping from my wounds, pouring out around the fish hooks and my only regret was that I could not taste it on my tongue.
Susan yanked on the chain savagely. She did not 'really understand how wonderful it felt to me, she was too caught up in her own lust to injure me to realize that I was enjoying it.
I screamed and sobbed, but only because the pain was so intense that I could not help myself. My eyes were blinking rapidly, the sweat pouring from my forehead and stinging them continuously.
"How do you like it, bitch?" she laughed cruelly. "How do you like hanging from your boobs, you vicious cunt! Does it hurt, bitch, does it?"
"Ohh, dear God, yes, Susan, ummm, yes," I moaned, jerking violently as a new spasm of delicious agony ripped through my breasts. "Ahhh, I love it, Susan, I love it so much! Use the pole, Susan, make me turn!"
The girl couldn't believe I was enjoying this. She growled fiercely and picked up the pole, then jammed it hard against my side. I screamed as I began to twist, forcing the hooks to cut and jab deeper into my skin.
I felt one pulling free of my flesh, slicing through me viciously, and I wailed in pain, thrilled by the total agony it gave me, then. The pain never abated, but grew and grew, getting worse and worse with each passing second.
I had never felt so marvelously bad in my life and I sobbed in delight as the horrible sensations became more and more consuming, now. I did not fight the pain, of course, but went down into it, eager to endure as much of it as I could stand.
Ruthlessly, now, Susan jabbed the long pole at me. She made my body twist and turn with much more force than I had hers, and I was certain my agony was far worse than anything she had felt.
She grew more fevered with her attack, as if she was determined to make me suffer to the point of unconsciousness. Each time she banged the pole into me, shifting my body from left to right against the embedded hooks, the pain leaped with new intensity in my breasts and I cried out again.
"Ohh, Jesus, yes, more, I love it, yes," I sobbed, gasping as she rammed the pole hard into my belly. "Ummm, Susan thank you, it hurts so wonderfully, thank you, thank you, thank you!"
She watched in horror and fascination as I began to shiver and moan with the growing force of an orgasm in my cunt. The pain was making my pussy throb with pleasure, was making the desire surge violently in my pit.
I moaned and trembled on the ends of the hooks, feeling the delicious pounding in my inner chamber, the slowly building pleasure spreading through me. The pain grew more and more feverish, and I could no longer see anything but a strange, swirling mixture of colors in front of my eyes.
I hung there, sobbing and gasping, my whole body on fire with agony and delight. The ecstasy I was feeling is beyond description. I can only tell you Doctor, that I had never dreamed of such powerful sensations before, and I was eagerly allowing them to consume and overwhelm me, now.
I forgot about everything at that point. I no longer knew Susan was there, I no longer cared about anything but the wonderful, driving pain that had taken hold of me. My boobs felt scalded with boiling oil, my cunt burning with passion and I knew that I was drifting away into the most intense experience I had ever imagined.
"Damn you, bitch, damn you," hissed Susan from somewhere far away from my mind. "You love this, don't you? You really love this, don't you, you pig?"
I laughed in delight and nodded my head wildly. "Yes, yes, I love it, yes," I screamed, feeling the orgasm and the pounding hurt join and explode in my flesh. "Ohhh, God, I love it, yes!"
Jesus, the climax made me jerk so wildly on the hooks that three more of them were torn loose from my breasts. I sobbed and shivered as the ecstasy raced through me, and I gave myself completely to my release.
I don't know how long it lasted. The next thing I knew, I was back down on the floor of the barn and Susan was removing the hooks from my aching breasts. She was crying, now, sobbing about how crazy we both were to do such things.
I suppose I should have realized what a danger she was then, but I just wasn't thinking clearly. I made my mistake with her, she couldn't understand my passions and I should have known she would break down and reveal what we had done, sooner or later.
It really doesn't matter though. I'll find another Susan. I'm only sixteen and I'll be free of my parents soon, then nothing will be able to stop me from giving and getting the pain that I desire. Nothing, do you hear me, nothing!
CONCLUSION
This was about the only point in the two interviews that Bobbie showed any trace of emotion at all to me. She was fiercely determined about what she was going to do and I realized she needed help at once.
She laughed at all my suggestions that she seek treatment, and told me I was the sick one, not her, for being so afraid of such forbidden pleasures. I made a decision then and there to try and convince her parents to have her committed.
I hate to do this to anyone, especially a girl as young as Bobbie, but it was all clear to me, that any other suggestion on my part would only lead to disaster later on.
She must be treated for this desire to be hurt and to hurt others. It is far too dangerous to be left untreated. Without help, she will surely destroy herself one day, perhaps taking others with her.
CASE HISTORY EIGHT
SUBJECT: Maureen F. Age: Twenty-Seven
INTERVIEW ONE
When Maureen F. entered my office, I could tell at once that she was very disturbed. She worked for a firm that sold exercise equipment, some of which I had bought through her myself. I was surprised to see her and tried to keep things light as I offered her a seat beside my desk.
She preferred the couch, she told me and lay down on it, folding her slim but strong fingers behind her bed. She confessed that she had hesitated in coming to see me a number of times, but finally had to out of desperation.
Maureen is a healthy, attractive young woman, and she was wearing a tight halter top and brief pair of shorts, giving me all the view I needed of her firm, attractive breasts and long, shapely legs.
I sat down in the chair behind the couch - and told her to begin, trying to put her at ease, for I sensed that whatever was bothering her, would take a great deal of courage to be told.
* * *
Well, Doctor, you know me, I try and take everything in stride. I mean, in my sort of business, you meet a number of strange people. The men that want to make passes at you while your demonstrating the equipment are usually the most normal of the freaks you have to deal with.
But lately, I think I have had my share of weirdos, and what's worse, is how I am beginning to respond to them. I might as well tell your right now that I have become involved with a bit of S and M over the past few weeks and I am beginning to worry about myself. You see, I kind of like it.
It all started with this guy named Walter. He owns a big publishing firm on the street and he comes on like the coolest, most put together person you could ever hope to meet. When you first meet him, you think he's got it all together, well, believe me, he doesn't.
Now, you know the equipment I sell. It's purpose is to get people in shape, believe me, I know how dangerous some of it is, but I never once considered the idea that some of it could be used for torture.
This guy Walter really loved the stuff I showed him. He signed up to have a whole gym built in one room of his building. I thought I had really sold him on getting healthy and that made me feel good, boy was I ever wrong.
When we got all the equipment in there and hooked up, naturally he wanted me to help him test all of it out. This didn't bother me, after all, I had sold him on it, and even if he made a pass or two, well I knew I could handle that.
Anyway, I saw from the beginning that that wasn't exactly what he had in mind. He wanted me to try out the steam box first, so I slipped inside of it, wearing my body suit, of course and told him how to turn the steam on.
After a few moments, me talking to him all the time, explaining how the box worked, it began to grow warmer. I didn't think anything about it, I just went on talking, until I noticed him turning up the dial.
"Don't do that," I said, shaking the moisture from my forehead. "It can be very dangerous to turn it up too high, you could get burned."
He turned and smiled at me coldly. "You mean you could get burned," he chuckled a bit coldly. He slipped a broom handle through the latches on the doors of the small cabinet and turned the dial even higher.
I thought he was playing some kind of joke. Lots of guys did things like that, once a guy wouldn't let me out of a box before I promised to date him, so I figured that was what he was up to.
"Getting warmer," he said softly, laughing again. "Is it heating up nicely in there, Maureen, hmm?"
"Okay wise guy," I hissed. I began to push on the doors, but the handle held them shut. "Let me out of here buster, before I start screaming or something."
"Ahh, that's what I'm looking for," �e whispered softly. He bent over and peered into my eyes. "I want to hear you screaming, Maureen, that's why I locked you in there, don't you see?"
"If this is a way to get me to go out with you, it won't work," I growled at him, burning my hands, now on the steel doors. "So you might as well forget that."
He turned the dial all the way up, now, and the heat began to roar like a furnace inside the tiny chamber. "Who wants a date, Maureen?" he said, shaking his head. "I have more interesting things on my mind!"
Jesus, it began to really heat up in that thing. I was sweating wildly and beginning to get a little frightened. I had to constantly keep moving away from the walls, they were growing so hot, and even the wooden stool I was sitting on began to grow warmer and warmer.
"Hey, please, Walter, stop kidding around," I gasped, my lungs heaving with the effort it took to breathe. "Come on, let me out, it's getting to warm in here!"
"I want to hear you begging me, Maureen," he cooed, delicately wiping the sweat from my brow with his handkerchief. "I want to hear your screaming for mercy! You see, I have great plans for us!"
This guy was really off his rocker, I thought. I gulped and swallowed and it hurt to do that. The seat was now too hot to sit on and when I rose up, my shoulders touched the hot metal top of the cabinet and I screamed in pain.
The metal was so hot now, that it burned me every time I moved and my feet were beginning to burn through my sneakers. I sobbed as I twisted from left to right, screaming again each time I pressed my flesh against the scalding metal.
"That's good, Maureen, that's very good," he chuckled savagely. "But, perhaps you need to experience the chamber more completely, hum. Come on, get down in there!"
He started slapping me brutally on my face, pushing down on my head, forcing it back through the hole at the top of the cabinet. I choked and gasped, then felt his fist slam into my temple and his hands ruthlessly push me down inside.
.
I slipped on the floor and my buttocks and back slammed against the metal. Instantly I was burned and I screamed as the harsh pain raced along my skin. I panicked then, kicking and punching at the door, frantically, my body banging against the walls uncontrollably, now.
The heat was so intense in there that I couldn't breathe and I was gasping and choking wildly, then, shuddering and terrified that I was going to die. I screamed and banged on the walls, more and more of my flesh becoming seared by the steaming walls, but all I heard was his laughter from outside.
It felt as if the walls were closing in on me and I fell down again, my bottom scalded by the floor and my mind spinning wildly. I thought I was passing out and I tried desperately to stay awake, horrified by what would happen to me if I allowed my flesh to lay upon the steaming metal.
The next thing I knew, he was hauling me out of the chamber, slapping and kicking me across the floor. "Come on, you worthless bitch, move it," he was barking. I felt his foot drive into my burned behind, shoving me forward onto my face.
I was in a bit of a daze and hardly realized it as he began to tear at my body suit with his fingers. I thought he was trying to rape me and I fought back wildly and he ripped the tight-fitting shirt down to my waist and yanked savagely on the leotards I was wearing.
I felt him dragging the garment off of me, my sore bottom bouncing along the floor, my exposed breasts swaying as he pulled me toward him. He yelped with glee as the leotard came off my toes, then he reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair, hauling me to my feet.
"Come on, you worthless little scum," he growled, shoving me over toward the muscle stretcher. "I'm not through with you yet, bitch!"
I was totally confused. He threw me down on my stomach and tightened the straps of the machine on my wrists and ankles, then fit the tight band over the base of my spine. I lay there moaning, hardly realizing he didn't intend to rape me at all.
The muscle stretcher is designed to move the spinal cord back and forth, massaging it gently. The machine has various speeds, from quite slow to super fast, though you aren't supposed to use the top speed ever.
I tried to come back to my senses and I moaned softly, shuddering against the tight straps that held me in. He flicked on the machine and slowly the motor moved the bar back and forth, flexing my spine.
"Ahh, this ought to be very interesting," Walter chuckled. "There is so much we can do in here, so much fun we can have with all this equipment!"
"Walter, I... please, I need a Doctor, I'm hurt," I whispered. I moaned against the dull ache of the bar moving against my spine. "Let me up, please, I won't say anything about this, just let me up."
"Let you up," he laughed cruelly again. He reached over and turned the speed up half way. "Hell, baby, I'm just beginning! I want to see how you react to this!"
The machine picked up speed, jerking my spine back and forth more violently, now, jarring my back bones severely. If you ever landed on your ass after a bad fall, you can imagine what it felt like. Only this was ten times worse and kept repeating itself every few moments.
I screamed as my spine slammed together, then drew far apart. It felt like two, strong horses were tugging on either end of me, jerking on my body with increasing violence and force.
"Come on, that's nothing," Walter laughed another time. "Now we get into the real fun, now we really give that back of yours a going over!"
He turned the speed up to three-quarters high and the machine began to move more violently. It slammed me back and forth at an unbelievable rate, jerking and yanking on my spine with a savage power.
The pain shot from my_ tail bone to my brain and I screamed in agony, rocking back and forth in the grip of the machine. I sobbed and cried out, terrified even more now that I realized that sex wasn't what was on his mind.
Faster and" faster the machine went, my body felt drawn and pulled way beyond anything I had ever felt before. Each movement of the motor sent unbearable jarring pain racing through my bones, pounding me relentlessly.
I was pushed and pulled at an incredible rate of speed. I screamed at him to stop, to please let me go, but he shook his head savagely and turned the motor up to full speed, now, grinning viciously in delight.
The whir of the motor was matched only by my cries of agony as the machine worked harder and harder. Walter's smiling face became a blur as my spine cracked and slammed together again and again.
I sobbed and shuddered, twisting and turning in a helpless attempt to escape. My wrists and ankles were scraped and raw, bleeding from my efforts and my back felt like it would snap in two at any moment.
Walter was laughing insanely, now, completely enjoying the torture he was putting me through. "Jesus, I'll bet that hurts, I'll bet it does," he cackled loudly. "Ohh boy, scream, baby, scream you stupid cunt!"
Faster and harder the machine slammed me together. I could not see any longer for the blinding pain and my body felt as if it were being crushed in the hands of a murderous giant. I begged and pleaded with Walter, but he just shook his head and bellowed at me to suffer.
I heard snaps and cracks in my back and I was sure my spine would be broken at any moment. I could no longer hold on to the sides of the machine, could no longer fight it, and I just lay there, jerking and flexing in its control.
Suddenly Walter eased the speed down on the machine and slowly turned it off. I was paralyzed, unable to move, and when he pulled off the straps and yanked me off the table, the sudden, jolting pain was so fierce that I roared in agony and fell to the floor, sobbing and clutching at my damaged spine.
"Come on, get on your feet, you lazy slut," he growled at me. He kicked me brutally in the ribs and I gagged, fighting to keep from getting sick. "What's the matter, bitch, too much for you?"
God, Doctor, I could not even move. I felt as if I had been stepped on or something, and I could hardly think straight. I lay there, moaning, trying desperately to regain my strength before he came up with some new kind of fun to entertain himself. There are plenty of things in a gym, you know, and I didn't want to imagine what he had in mind, next.
* * *
Maureen shook her head violently, then, and asked me if she could rest for a moment. I offered her the small couch I have in the room behind my office, that I use for just that purpose and she accepted it, gratefully.
I gave her something for her head ache and sent out for coffee, while she went into the back room to compose herself and rest up for the next session we would have.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Maureen came out of the room fifteen minutes later, she was more than composed. She appeared to be grimly intent on finishing her story as quickly as possible. I could see the determination in her eyes and I gave her a cup of coffee and had her sit down on the couch again.
Without wasting any words, she picked up her story right where she had left off.
* * *
Well, Doctor, you can well imagine how flipped out I was over this. I didn't know what to think. I saw him slipping on a pair of boxing gloves, then and I shook my head, and raced for the door.
He beat me to it, laughing in delight. "It's locked anyway, bitch," he hissed, driving his left fist hard into my belly. "But that's not important, is it? You'd better defend yourself, honey, I'm a good puncher!"
This was almost too much for me to believe, but when his right fist banged into my cheek, knocking me hard against the wall, I could tell he was serious. I moved backward, trying to avoid the blows, but he knew exactly how to fight.
He was toying with me, slamming a jab against my forehead to get my hands up, then driving a fist hard into my belly when it was exposed.
He didn't try and knock me out, he was having too much fun slamming me around. I ducked away from his right and he punched me hard on the nose. I heard the bone crack as the pain broke in front of my eyes, and in a few seconds I could taste my blood on my tongue from my broken nose.
"Come on, slut, defend yourself," he hissed angrily. He slapped me a few times on the cheek, taping me back and forth with both hands. "Come on, you little tramp, you're not trying hard at all!"
Doctor, I was frightened to death. The bastard had already broken my nose and he was steadily working on my right eye, closing it more and more with each punch that he landed.
I couldn't get away from him, and I couldn't fight back very well, either. I was stumbling on the floor, slipping against the equipment, completely at a loss as to what I could do to save myself.
He was having a grand time, now. He kept peppering me with rights and left, knocking me back and forth until my lips were swollen and bleeding and my cheeks a mass of ugly, purple bruises.
He loved the sight of my blood and bore into me now, hitting me harder and harder, each punch more solid than the last. He slammed a fist hard into my belly again and as I bent over, drove another into my temple.
I moaned, blinking at the blinding pain, and slipped to the floor, completely drained of all strength and energy. He stood over me, laughing softly, flicking his gloved hand at my head.
"Come on, cunt, get up," he growled. "Come on, the fun is just starting, you silly bitch! Get up before I start kicking you!"
I looked up at his crotch, then, and threw a wild punch that grazed his groin. He yelped in pain, falling against the wall and holding his crotch. His face was twisted with pain, but I knew I hadn't hurt him that much.
Desperately I got to my feet and glanced around the room. There was only one door and he had the key, so I was trapped. But then I noticed the rack of fencing swords hanging on the wall and I raced over to them, grabbing one and ripping the rubber tip off the end.
"Give me that key, you son of a bitch," I hissed as I advanced on him. "Give me it or I'll cut a hole in you, now."
He pulled off the gloves, nodding wildly and I thought I had him. But then he threw them at me and raced over to the rack, pulled down a sword and ripped the rubber tip of the end, too.
He was smiling wickedly, thinking, I suppose, that he was really going to have some fun, now. What he didn't know, was that I was All-State Fencing Champion in college and now I had my chance to turn the tables.
He leaped awkwardly at me with his blade and I parried, swirling around and slicing cleanly at his turning buttocks. He yelped in pain and shock and put his hand down to the rip. When he pulled it away again, his palm was wet with blood.
"Now you prick," I hissed coldly. "Now we're going to see what fun is!"
Jesus, I was keyed up. All my experience came back to me then and I pushed into the attack, darting and slashing at him savagely. It didn't take him very long to see he was out-classed, either.
I jabbed and sliced, driving him steadily backward. I loved the sound of his painful cries as I slit open his shirt and carved a four inch slash along his chest. He grew more and more terrified as I advanced, trying to defend himself with pathetic parrying blows that I easily fended off.
I paused for a moment and growled at him. "Get your fucking clothes off, you asshole," I barked. "Let's get things equal here, right now!"
- I could see that that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was so shook up that he pulled at his shirt and trousers, actually tearing the clothing from himself in fear of angering me more.
His cock was a sorry sight indeed. It was dangling between his thighs and I flicked my blade at it harshly, nicking the tip of his head cleanly. He screamed in pain and clutched at his groin.
"Ohh, Jesus, don't," he gasped. He started to back away and I advanced on him, whisking my blade back and forth through the air, the harsh, savage whistle it made, echoing loudly in the room.
He screamed in terror now, dropped his own sword and began to run away from me. I stalked him slowly, each time I drew near, slicing a new wound in his flesh. I craved a long wide stripe across his buttocks, and I was actually thrilled to see the blood pouring out of the wound.
I had him completely terrified now. He no longer thought of defending himself, only getting away from me. It was a pleasure just taking my time, following his frightened, naked body around the room, slashing my blade at him at will.
His ass and his shoulders were a criss-cross of wounds, now, and his chest hair was damp with his own blood. His legs bore the marks of my sword and the head of his prick dripped blood where I had wounded him.
He fell down on his knees in front of the door, now, pulling and twisting on the knob, sobbing and crying uncontrollably. I took my time drawing close to him, pausing long enough to pull on my leotards again and tighten my raincoat around my waist.
He was staring at me, the fear wild in his eyes, as I bent down over his pants and searched his pockets for the key to the door. He gulped frantically as he watched me, sweat and blood pouring from him, now.
"Please, please don't hurt me anymore," he whispered urgently as I began to walk toward him. "Ohh, God, Maureen, I'm... I'm sorry, don't hurt me, please!"
I motioned him up with the tip of my blade, flicking it under his chin. He shuddered and rose to his feet, trembling so violently that I didn't know how long he would be able to stand.
"I ought to kill you, you lousy prick," I hissed coldly. I flicked the blade again. "Put up your hands, you bastard, over you head, now!"
"Don't... don't kill me, please," he moaned, shutting his eyes tightly, shivering with the uncontrollable fear, now.
"Oh, God, Maureen, don't kill me, please, please, don't!" he almost screamed in fear. "I beg you, don't!"
I looked at him coldly, the laughter bubbling up in my chest as he cowered so fearfully at my feet, now. His naked body was a mixture of blood and sweat and his eyes were wide with fear.
"Come here, pig," I hissed at him, waving the sword at him threateningly. "Come here and kiss the feet of your Mistress, scum!"
He crawled across the floor toward me like a good dog should, and I stood quite still as he approached, the tip of the blade touching the floor, one hand on my hip as I watched him grovel.
I was feeling very alive at that moment, Doctor. Never in all my days had I felt such power. It was intoxicating to say the least and gave me a wild, thrilling sensation of victory that was far more pleasing than any other feeling I could remember.
After having been used by him, and other men in my past, having been treated like a piece of meat for their pleasure, turning the tables on one of them was a delight, to say the least. I almost moaned with excitement, my loins burning with a fire that was far more powerful than any sexual feeling I had ever had.
He crawled meekly, shivering with total fear until he reached my feet. I flicked the tip of the sword against his chin, nicking his flesh a bit and he moaned softly.
"Lick the dirt from between my toes, pig," I hissed at him, coldly. "Clean my feet with your worthless tongue, and I might not hurt you too badly."
He was eager to please me, now. To do anything to keep his worthless body from being hurt any more than it already was. I felt his tongue wandering over my dusty feet, licking the particles of dirt from them in a frantic manner.
God, how marvelous it felt to have him so degraded and debased beneath me. I don't care what anyone says, to humiliate scum like that" is one of the most wonderful experiences anyone can ever have.
I stood there, his tongue lathering my toes, an enticing tremor rippling through me, now, loving every second of it. I couldn't have cleaned my feet better than he did, if I had been soaking in a tub for hours!
But I was not through with him yet. I had no intention of killing him, of course. I did not desire to go to prison or get in any kind of a fix over so jerk like that. I just wanted to teach him a lesson he would never forget.
I wanted him to experience the ugly pain I felt at being used and degraded. I wanted him to remember what I did to him for the rest of his useless life. All I wanted was to destroy his smug ego.
"What... what are you going to do with me, now?" he whispered softly, his voice filled with fear and worry. "Please, what are you going to do?"
"Get up, pig," I growled, trying hard not to laugh at his begging tone of voice. "Get up on your feet and get against that wall, again!"
He almost sobbed as he stood up. I smiled thinly at him, using all my control to keep from breaking into laughter at him. He was so frightened of me now, that I had to hold into the joyful amusement I had at his terror.
"Spread your arms and legs wide, scum," I ordered as he stood against the wall.
He sobbed and trembling violently, did as I commanded. I walked up to him, placed the tip of my blade against his ball bag and hissed at him savagely.
"You are lucky I don't slice it off, pig," I growled. Then, as he began to sob in fear, I thrust the blade forward violently, driving it through his bag and pinned him to the wall.
He screamed in fear and pain and clutched frantically at the imprisoning sword. I unlocked the door, then and nodded smugly, then closed it behind me, leaving him still pinned the wall, moaning in agony.
Now I have had many opportunities to discipline thoughtless men in such a way, and I have really grown to like it. What I am wondering, is if that makes me sick or something. What do you think, Doctor?
CONCLUSION
While her story was quite amusing, and I did not blame her for her actions one bit, I told Maureen that such desires could get out of hand. I suggested she seek a little professional advice concerning her private thoughts, but assured her that on balance, I felt she was quite healthy in every way.
GENERAL CONCLUSION
Though we have studied eight cases of bizarre forms of sado-masochistic actions, we have really only touched the surface of the problem. The question remains.
How much is too much, when does one go too far and cross over the barrier between harmless pleasure and actual destruction. It is difficult to see where to draw the line, but we have learned that pushed too far, these forms of entertainment can lead to total disaster.
Carla W., so twisted that she was certain she could do nothing wrong. She will pay for it the rest of her life, if she lives that long.
Mary S., shocked to discover her own hidden desire for punishment and abuse, only the most lengthy and intense treatment can even begin to bring her back to normal.
Sylvia K., troubled and lonely, her aching desire to be touched and part of something led her to the twisted idea that pain was her only hope for pleasure.
Marta M., a woman too deeply involved in her own sickness to ever escape it, all hope for her recovery is lost.
And the others? Who can tell. S and M is a topic that must be studied much more than it has been, if we are to understand it.
