Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.  It is for entertainment
purposes only and intended exclusively for adults.  If you are not legally
of age according to the laws of your land, please go away.
Warnings: MM, MF, Fdom, bd, fist, cbt, best, mutilation

   Revenge of a Modern Day Fury by Mother Kali

   There were some with interests similar to hers who considered themselves
hobbyists.  Others preferred the term afficionado.  Still others fancied
themselves masters of the universe.  Those looking in from the outside
tended simply to call them monsters.

   But Glennis believed that she was, in fact, a Fury--an ancient force,
magically reincarnated into the modern world of technology and secrets. 
There was no other way she could explain her life.  In the beginning, she'd
been humble, even downtrodden.  Lightning wasn't supposed to strike twice,
but when it did, it had to mean something.  Winning a fortune at Powerball
and then investing in the right tech stocks, two of the darkest horses, had
catapulted her into that gravity-free space of wealth that was beyond
everyone's touch.  She could do whatever she wanted, and she couldn't help
but believe that this was exactly as it was supposed to be.

   And what she wanted was retribution.  It was the raison d'etre of a
Fury, after all.  She could never quite fathom the other hobbyists or
afficionados or whatever they called themselves and their taste for
exploiting the weak, the innocent and the helpless.  Where was the
challenge in that?  Anyone could lure a child off a playground with the
promise of a puppy or an ice cream cone.  Runaways would trust the first
person to offer them a decent meal and a chance to break into modeling.  It
was hardly sporting.  And, besides, Glennis had a feeling for the little
people.  She'd been one of them herself once upon a time.

   But to hunt and capture and break the guilty and the powerful--now that
was work a person could be proud of.  It was an art, a true calling.  Half
the time, she didn't even undertake it for the profit, simply for the
satisfaction.  A Fury liked to admire her own handiwork.

   She heard about cases where retribution was needed through various
channels--letters to the foundation she ran and referrals from colleagues
and articles in the newspaper.  She could spot an injustice seemingly from
half way around the world.  Furies could see things other people couldn't.

   There had been the doctor, or butcher as she preferred to call him, who
had made quite a profitable living off plastic surgery procedures he wasn't
qualified to perform.  Things went wrong more than a few times, but the
powerful doctor's lobby always managed to protect him, until he finally
ended up killing a woman during what should have been a routine
liposuction. Her husband sued, but the doctor's high-priced attorneys
convinced the jury that the doctor could not possibly have foreseen what
would happen.  They made it seem as if it were the dead woman's fault, as
if *she* somehow should have known better, that death was the price for her
vanity.

   It was the kind of reasoning that did not sit well with Glennis.

   Since his abduction, the doctor had become one of her star attractions.
He had broken easily, as the guilty invariably did.  He now serviced an
enthusiastic and growing clientele who enjoyed performing medical
procedures on him.  In a typical day on the job, he received enemas and had
catheters inserted into his penis.  He would lie on his own examining table
that Glennis had removed from his office, with his legs in stirrups as his
"doctors" probed his anus using a very large speculum.  The photographs and
videos were hot sellers.  But Glennis had decided that the perfect
comeuppance for someone who had no respect for women's bodies would be to
give him one of his own, so he could learn the proper reverence, firsthand.
The traffic from the net cast of his silicone breast implants had nearly
crashed the server.  She couldn't imagine what sort of crowds the doctor's
castration and the creation of his female genitalia would bring in.

   The proceeds from the doctor's performances had been channeled through
the foundation to the dead woman's grief-stricken husband, a sizeable grant
with which he planned to begin an advocacy group to enact stricter
legislation governing the cosmetic surgery industry.  Glennis was pleased
to have helped with the cause in her own small way.

   One of the foundation's other current projects was helping a group of
Guatemalan women begin new lives in the States.  They had originally been
lured into the country by a wealthy American heiress who had promised them
good jobs and green cards.  When they arrived, they were beaten and held
against their will, put to work in inhumane conditions in a sugar refining
factory.  After their long shifts, they were expected to sexually
accommodate their male co-workers.  One young woman tried to escape, to
return home to her fiancee and her family.  She had been caught, and the
rich American woman had cut off the girl's breast in punishment, leaving
her maimed and unmarriageable, as a lesson to the other women.

   Eventually, the authorities had discovered what was going on and had
liberated the Guatemalan women.  However, their rich American slaver
managed to wriggle her way out of any legal action.  Thankfully, Glennis
did not need the law in order to deliver justice.  She had the woman
kidnapped and brought to her compound, where she compelled her to work as a
prostitute, giving blow jobs to busloads of men brought in from all over
the area, letting her have a taste of her own medicine, so to speak.

   Of course, the woman tried to escape, and that gave Glennis the perfect
chance to serve up the same kind of justice this spoiled socialite had
shown the Guatemalan girl she'd mutilated.  The netcast of her cliterectomy
surpassed even the doctor's breast implants in generating revenue.  The
before and after photographs and videos were also doing quite well, not to
mention that the woman had built up quite a large clientele of regular
customers.  Many men and not a few women were willing to pay a considerable
fee for the novelty of being serviced by a circumcised female slave.  All
that money had enabled the foundation to offer a generous stipend to the
Guatemalan immigrants, who were now happily settled with their families out
in California.

   It was the kind of charitable endeavor that Glennis took great pride in.

   Of course, not all her work was purely altruistic.  She indulged in the
occasional personal project.  After all, she had been one of the little
people once upon a time.  Wrongs had certainly been committed against her.
She was not above seeking retribution for them.

   When she looked back on her life, it amazed her that she had ever been
so young and so very defenseless.  She'd first come to the city when she
was barely eighteen, just out of school.  She'd taken a job, the only one
she could find, as a secretary in an investment bank.  Everywhere around
her, there had been people making millions of dollars--and that was just
before lunch--while she barely scraped by on the poverty wages they paid
employees at her level.  Her boss had been very well aware of her desperate
financial situation, and instead of trying to help with a raise or a bonus,
he had played on it to coerce certain favors out of her, threatening her
job if she didn't go along with him.

   Last year, she had sold him to a wealthy Asian industrialist whom he had
cheated in some business dealing.  She hadn't inquired what the man planned
to do with his acquisition.  But it was well known he had a recreational
interest in creating certain rather imaginative tableaux, a sort of
performance art, he liked to think of it, although others would most
certainly have called it torture.

   Now, at this point in her career as a Fury, she had but one last
personal grudge to avenge.  His name was James.

   Back in the old days, when her lack of funds had grown quite critical,
she'd asked some of the other secretaries in her office what they did to
get by.  They had told her about a club where she could go to make extra
money, if she didn't mind having sex with strangers.  Glennis had been
rather innocent for her age, and she'd only ever done it with her mouth, to
appease demanding boyfriends without having to get their greedy hands all
over her.  Not that she was saving herself, exactly.  But it did seem like
the first time ought to be treated with at least as much respect as a fine
bottle of wine or the good china.  It should be kept for something that at
least resembled a special occasion, if only a genuine flush of desire,
something she'd never really felt before.

   Although the other secretaries assured her that men would happily pay
for her mouth, she still put it off for the longest time.  Eventually,
though, she really did need the money.  And she figured it couldn't be any
worse than what she did for her boss, the furtive blow jobs delivered
beneath his desk.  At least, she'd be well paid for her trouble for a
change.

   So one Friday night, she put on some red lipstick and her nicest dress,
which was kind of sad, actually, looking back on it now.  It looked like
something you'd wear to a church social, hardly the thing to drum up
business.  Back then, she had really not understood the kind of power a
woman had or how to wield it.

   When she arrived at the place where the other secretaries had directed
her, it was hardly a "club." Dreary, grimy dive of a bar was really more
descriptive.  She went inside anyway.

   It wasn't a particularly large room, and everyone stared at her as she
stood in the doorway.  She blushed and hurried over to the bar.  She
perched on a stool and ordered a drink, a Manhattan, because that's what
her mother always drank, before the habit rotted her liver and put her in
an early grave.  She just hoped they wouldn't ask for I.D.

   "Hey, there, Bright Eyes," a man said and sat down on the stool next to
her.

   He wasn't ugly, exactly, just sort of old and in ill repair.  His hair
was slicked back to cover a bald spot, and he smiled crookedly to try to
hide a missing tooth.  It wasn't very successful.

   "Hello," she said, primly, sipping delicately from the high ball glass,
trying not to look at him too closely.

   "You come here often?" he asked.

   She shook her head.  "First time."

   He slung a beefy arm across her shoulders.  "You looking for a little
company?  You on the clock, so to speak?"

   "I-- Uh--"

   "What do you say, sweetheart?  Can I get a date?"

   She calculated the bills in her head.  She stared at the man's missing
tooth.  She slid off the bar stool and started to back away.

   "Sorry," she said, and then turned and ran.

   Happily, there was a back way out.  She pushed through the heavy metal
door into the alleyway and stopped for a moment to breathe in deeply.  The
air tasted like relief, like freedom.  The alley led back to the street,
but before she could head for it, a hand grabbed her by the shoulder and
whirled her around.

   "Where do you think you're going, Miss?"

   The man was tall, so tall he towered over her, unnerving her, making her
feel far more slight and helpless than she ever had in her life.  He had
close cropped dark hair, military style, and an armed forces build, strong
but lithe.  He looked like he could slog through the muck all day and still
have the strength to break the enemy in half with his bare hands.

   "I was just leaving," she stuttered, staring up at him, her eyes large
and scared.

   He put his hand into his coat pocket, and her heart pounded violently.
He pulled out what looked like a leather wallet.

   "Oh, no.  You see, I changed my mind.  I'm not--"

   He flipped it open, and she saw the badge.  "Detective Henderson, Vice.
You're under arrest for solicitation."

   "Please.  No!  I didn't.  I swear!"

   "No?  I suppose you just like your men old and a little rough around the
edges.  I'm not stupid, Miss.  I'm going to have to run you downtown."

   She shook her head desperately.  "There must be something else.  I've
never been in trouble before."

   "Well..."

   "Please," she begged.

   "I'd need your complete cooperation."

   "Anything."

   He smiled, and it surprised her with its lasciviousness.  "That's more
like it," he said.

   She swallowed hard.  "What do you want?"

   "Open your blouse," he demanded.  "Let me see your tits."

   "No, I-- You don't understand."

   He took a step toward her, crowding her space.  "What I understand is
that you said you'd cooperate.  Now, do you want to stay out of jail or
what?"

   She nodded, trying not to cry.

   "Then open your blouse."

   She hesitantly complied, her hands shaking as she undid the buttons.

   "The bra, too," he prompted.

   She unhooked it, and her breasts sprang free.  The air felt cool on her
sensitive skin, and her nipples hardened.

   "Gorgeous." His hands closed around her breasts.  "Tits that just beg to
be held."

   She couldn't help trembling.  Her nipples were so hard they hurt.  She
blushed furiously.

   He laughed at her.  "Hey, why *not* enjoy it, right?  Why fight the
inevitable?"

   She blushed harder, even more humiliated.

   She was about to ask him if she could go now when he suddenly lifted her
and pressed her back against the wall.  She could feel his biceps flexing
beneath his leather jacket as he boosted her up above his waist.  He was so
large and strong it was as if he were lifting a rag doll.  She felt his
hand fumbling between their bodies and realized with a flash of panic that
he was opening his fly.  He didn't even bother to take off her panties.  He
just pushed them aside and shoved inside her, before she could beg him not
to, before she could even get out the words to tell him that she was a
virgin.

   She cried out as he began to move inside her.  He was so large, and it
hurt so much.

   "Shut up!" he warned.

   But she couldn't stop crying.  She pressed her face into his jacket to
muffle the sounds, breathing in the dark leather and the scent of her own
tears.

   He pressed her back more heavily against the wall.  "Lock your legs
around my waist."

   She hesitated.

   "Do it!" he ordered.

   She numbly obeyed.

   He buried his face in her hair.  "You're so tight.  So good."

   "Please!"

   He laughed in her ear.  "Is that what you want, sweetheart?  You want me
to please you?"

   She sobbed.

   "Hold on!" he commanded.

   And she knew there was no use resisting, so she did as he told her and
tightened her grip on his shoulders.

   He slid a hand between their bodies and began to work her with his
thumb, a wiggling motion that sent sparks all the way up her spine, unlike
anything she'd ever felt before.  She dug her nails into the leather of his
jacket.

   "That's it, baby," he crooned in her ear.  "Give it up.  Let go.  Come
for me.  Come with me."

   Between his dick and his hand, her body was flying apart.

   "Oh, yeah.  Yeah," he moaned and began to thrust more urgently.

   Her belly tightened, and the heat shot through her.  She banged her head
back against the hard brick and came violently.  And as her vision went
dark, she could feel him surging forward, climaxing in short, sharp spurts.
When she came to, he had his hands under her bottom, supporting her weight.
He was breathing heavily against her shoulder.

   "That was great," he said, still panting.  And then he kissed her softly
behind the ear.  "God, you're beautiful."

   She tightened her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.  She was
sore and in shock and more than a little afraid he might do it again.  But
he was still her first, despite the circumstances.  And she couldn't hate
him outright.

   He kissed her throat and smiled.  "You're such a sweet little whore," he
said, and then he laughed.

   And she could feel something shatter.  It was the last vestige of her
innocence.

   He pulled out of her and lowered her to the ground.  Her knees were so
weak she would have fallen if she hadn't grabbed for the wall.

   "From now on, you can turn tricks here whenever you want.  Nobody will
bother you, including me.  I only collect once."

   Then he turned and walked back down the alley, still chuckling to
himself, leaving her there with his come and her own blood running down her
thighs.

   ***

   Needless to say, Glennis had not forgotten him.  And yet, she did
actually believe that people could change.  He was her first, as imperfect
as it had been.  So there was a part of her that hoped he'd reformed
entirely.  A part of her dearly wished he had a wife he worshipped and four
children he lived for, that he would never consider being unfaithful, most
certainly not with the working girls he swept off the streets every night.
Even Furies had some capacity for forgiveness, and she was willing to give
him another chance, if he deserved it.

   So she planned a test for him.

   One Friday night, she put on one of her sleeker outfits, a deceptively
simple black dress, perfectly cut, with that special sheen all painfully
expensive things have.  She left her hair down, flowing straight down her
back like a soft curtain.  She pursed her lips and applied her lipstick,
the same shade of red she had worn back then.  When she glanced in the
mirror one last time, it was as if she had become that younger self again,
as if there had been no passage of time.  It was true what they said. 
Money really was the fountain of youth.

   James had come up in the world since she had known him.  He had advanced
in rank, and so he no longer worked the streets and the neighborhood dives.
Nowadays, he plotted elaborate stings on illegal pornography operations,
went undercover to bust up pedophile networks.  Her sources had funneled
him information about a new high-class prostitution operation, and he was,
even at the moment, figuring out how to bring it down.

   The penthouse arranged by her sources was comfortable and
well-appointed, a believable venue for the upscale flesh trade.

   "Thank you for coming," she greeted the other women who had been hired
to help her carry out the little charade.  "Please, get ready.  Our visitor
should be here soon."

   The women, also fashionably dressed, took places on the various divans
and love seats, lounging with casual, erotic grace.  One went behind the
bar and began to mix martinis.  Another sat down at the piano and played.

   The bell rang.  Glennis smiled.

   "We're on," she said.

   She opened the door, and there he was, James, still looking as handsome
as she remembered him, perhaps even more so.  Only now did she realize what
a rookie he must have been back then.  He couldn't be any older than his
early forties now.

   "Mr.  Henderson?" she said, in her most polite good-hostess voice.

   "That's me."

   "Do come in."

   She stepped aside, and he swept past her.

   "Mmm.  Mmm.  Mmm," he said in appreciation as he surveyed the room.

   On cue, the women all smiled and waved and said hello.

   "It's so lovely to meet you all," he said.

   "I hope you don't mind that I've asked some friends over," she said,
coquettishly.

   "Of course, not.  I thank you for introducing me to such lovely ladies.
I believe our mutual friend mentioned how much I enjoy meeting new people."

   It amused her, his put-on chivalry, his faux sauveness.  The James she
remembered wasn't nearly so subtle.  But she enjoyed his act.  It made for
a more interesting dance.

   "Indeed, he did.  Let me take your coat and get you a drink.  Do sit
down.  I'm sure you'd like to get to know my friends better."

   He smiled, and there was a carnality in the expression that she
remembered all too well.

   "You read my mind," he told her.

   She took care of his coat and motioned the girl over with a drink. 
James was soon surrounded by women, all chatting and flirting with him.

   When she caught his eye, she asked, "Are you making new friends?"

   "So many," he said and laughed.

   "Do you have a favorite?"

   "It's hard to choose."

   She smiled.  "That's the secret to throwing a successful party.  Only
invite fascinating people."

   He nodded.  "And you've certainly succeeded wonderfully here.  It's
just--"

   "Yes?"

   "I think what I'd really like is a tour of the place from the lady of
the house.  Would that be possible?"

   She tilted her head flirtatiously.  "Not just possible, but a pleasure."

   He stood up.  "Ladies.  Thank you for the drink and the conversation. 
Will you excuse me please?"

   The girls smiled and giggled and winked at him.

   Glennis took his arm and led him to the stairs.  "Let's start with the
second floor."

   "That sounds like an excellent idea."

   Upstairs, she guided him down the hall to one of the bedrooms.  She
opened the door and motioned him inside.  The room was filled with antique
furniture and precious object d'art.  "As you can see, we have many lovely
things here."

   "You certainly do." His eyes travelled sensually over her body.

   "Would you like to make yourself more comfortable?"

   He hesitated.  "I was hoping--"

   She arched an eyebrow.  "Yes?"

   "To see your office.  There's little I find more fascinating than a
woman of business."

   "Interesting."

   "Is it out of the question?"

   She smiled.  "Nothing is out of the question here.  That's our allure."
She held out her hand to him.  "It's just down the hall."

   He laced his fingers through hers.  "Thank you for indulging me."

   She led him to the other end of the hall, their hands still entwined. 
She unlocked the door, and they both went inside.

   "Well, here it is."

   He glanced around the room.  "Nice," he said.

   She tilted her head, letting her long hair fall across her cheek.  "I'm
so glad you approve."

   "So, we're in the office," he said.  "Shall we talk business?"

   "I thought our mutual friend would have filled you in on the terms."

   "Oh, he did.  Of course.  But I always like to confirm the details of a
deal.  It's a habit you acquire when you've run a company as long as I
have."

   "Of course," she said, leaning against the edge of desk.  "It's a
thousand.  For an hour.  It's twenty thousand for the night.  Other
arrangements can be negotiated as needed."

   "And that's for any of the girls?"

   'Whoever pleases you."

   He came nearer.  "What about the lady of the house?"

   She laughed.  "When there are all those beautiful girls waiting
downstairs, just hoping you'll crook your little finger at them?"

   "I am a connoisseur, you know.  I can always spot the most exquisite
treasure.  And I always get what I want."

   "Indeed?  Well, I feel certain we can reach an agreement then.  As long
as money is no object, of course."

   "Of course," he said and slipped his hand into his inside coat pocket.

   "We usually deal in electronic transfers," she said, acting innocent.

   He pulled out his I.D.  and flashed it at her.  "I'm afraid in this case
you're going to be dealing in prison time."

   She pursed her lips.  "Busted."

   He laughed.  "Well, at least you're a good sport about it." He took out
his handcuffs.

   "Is that completely necessary?"

   "It's procedure."

   She fixed him with a sultry look and lowered her voice.  "That's not
what I asked."

   Hesitation flickered across his face.  "I suppose there are other ways."

   "Something that will make this go away, I hope."

   "You'd have to make me an offer," he said.

   "You'll want money, of course."

   "Of course." He smiled and took a step closer.  "But I'd need other
considerations as well." He ran one finger lightly down her bare arm.  "Do
you think we could work something out?"

   "I don't see why not.  I suppose you'll need my full cooperation?"

   He laughed.  "Well, now that you mention it--"

   "I live to please," she told him, and then she twined her arms around
his neck and pulled him closer.

   He boosted her up, so that she was sitting on the edge of the desk.  He
nudged her knees apart and moved to stand between them.  She could feel his
hard on pressed against her panties.  He kissed her breathlessly and
reached behind her to unzip her dress.  He pushed aside the silk and the
straps of her bra and kissed the swells of her breasts.

   "I'll need to see you often," he said, his voice whispering across her
skin.

   "Oh, you will.  Don't worry," she said, eyes closed, head tilted back.

   She ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck and then kissed him.

   "You're so beautiful," he said, against her mouth.

   "You always say that," she said, smiling with amusement.

   "What?" he asked, smiling back at her.

   She brushed her fingers across his lips.  He sucked them in.

   Then he frowned.  "What the hell?"

   "Hugo!"

   The detective reeled on his feet, pressing heavily against her.  "Wha--
hell you do to me--"

   He collapsed, just as her assistant arrived to catch him.

   "Get him out here," she said.

   He nodded and hoisted the limp man over his shoulder.

   Glennis reached back and rezipped her dress.  She carefully smoothed her
skirt.  She took a tissue from the box sitting on the desk and wiped her
lips.  She never wore red lipstick anymore.

   ***

   It was really quite a pleasure to watch James as he slept off the drug
she'd slipped him, his face relaxed and peaceful, his lithe, naked body
sprawled unselfconsciously on the silk sheets of her bed.  Glennis stood at
the foot board and surveyed him.  She had not had the luxury of looking at
him all those years ago.  Now she took her time and enjoyed it.

   And it had been worth the wait.  He was beautiful, broad shoulders and
narrow waist, slim hips and powerful thighs, muscular but not grotesquely
overdeveloped.  It was the body of a natural athlete, not a gym junkie. 
This didn't surprise her.  She remembered how effortlessly he had lifted
her, how rock solid his arms and shoulders had been as she'd hung on to him
for dear life.  It was not surprising either that he was unusually
well-endowed, that he had the genitals of a god, in fact, large,
well-shaped balls hanging heavily between his legs, long, thick penis
resting lazily against his thigh.  No wonder she'd bled so much.

   As she appraised his anatomy, she felt something uneasy stir in the pit
of her stomach.  If she were really honest with herself, she had to admit
that she had imagined him here, not drugged of course, but sleeping, sated
after a long night of lovemaking.  She would lie in her bed at night, more
times than she cared to count, and imagine him touching her, not the way it
had been in the alley, but the way a real lover would, gently, to arouse
and please her.  At times, her fantasies threatened to blot out the memory
of the actual experience, for a few moments at least.

   Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.  She'd always pursued
her duties as a Fury with single-minded zeal.  Even with her former boss,
she'd maintained a completely professional detachment.  But with James, she
occasionally found herself losing focus.  It was enough to cause a Fury to
color with shame.

   Still, she understood human nature well enough to realize that no one
could help what they wanted.  She couldn't and James couldn't.  And that's
how she would own him, through that gorgeous, insatiable cock of his. 
Control a man's dick, after all, and you could control everything else
about him, too.  And what had ever been simpler than controlling a man's
dick?  That wouldn't change, no matter what kind of concentration problems
she was having.

   James stirred restlessly in his sleep and moaned softly.

   "Bradshaw," she called to her assistant.

   The man materialized in the doorway.  "Yes, madam?"

   "Is everything ready?"

   "Yes, madam."

   "I think we should start then.  Have him moved to one of the training
rooms."

   "Yes, madam.  Right away."

   "Call me when he wakes."

   "Of course."

   Glennis took one last look at James before leaving him in Bradshaw's
capable hands.  It would not be long now, not long at all until she began
to exact her well-deserved revenge.

   ***

   As it happened, Glennis didn't need Bradshaw to inform her when James
regained consciousness.  She heard him bellowing quite clearly from several
corridors away.  It made her smile.  James really did have quite a colorful
vocabulary.

   Bradshaw met her outside the training room.

   "I believe you can hear that he's awake," Bradshaw said dryly.

   "Indeed," she said, bemused.  "Is he restrained?"

   "Of course."

   "Has his situation been explained to him?"

   "I thought you might prefer to do that yourself.  If not, of course I'll
be happy to--"

   She waved her hand.  "No, you were right.  I would like to see to it
myself.  Let's begin, shall we?"

   "Of course."

   She opened the door and went inside.  Bradshaw followed.  James lay
strapped to an examining table.  He was still nude and his feet had been
shackled.  His wrists were cuffed to a belt that circled his waist.  The
belt was padlocked for complete security.

   Adrenaline flared in Glennis' veins, the dizzying rush of power, more
transcendent than any religious experience, more addictive than any drug.
This, at last, was what she'd been waiting to feel, the sense of domination
she appreciated so much.  Earlier in her bedroom, she'd been fighting the
pull of the personal, and that had been profoundly disconcerting.  But here
she was on familiar terrain, the ground solid beneath her feet, nothing
confusing or doubtful.  Here it was all pure and professional, the
uncomplicated arena of crime and punishment, the domain where Furies ruled.


   James craned his neck to see who had come into the room.  His eyes
turned hot and furious when he saw her.

   "You!" he said.  "You are in seriously deep shit here, lady.  You're
guilty of assaulting and kidnapping a police officer.  Do you have any idea
how much time you're going to do for that?  Release me right now, and maybe
you'll get out prison before you're on social security."

   She had to admire him.  It was a fine effort, trying to pit his bravado
against her power.  But she could see everything he so desperately wanted
to hide with his he-man act.  She knew how profoundly disturbed he was to
have awoken naked and immobilized in a room full of people who were all
staring at him.  This was the very essence of vulnerability, to have
control of one's body taken away, to be unable to cover one's nakedness, to
feel sexually at risk.

   He knew they could do anything to him.  And it petrified him.  And that
excited her.

   She smiled at him.  "I really don't think you're in much of a position
right now to be making threats or demands, do you, Detective Henderson?"

   "You're nuts!  What you do think you're going to accomplish with this?"

   She shrugged.  "I don't know.  Maybe teach you a lesson?"

   "Let me GO!"

   James struggled furiously, his face turning bright red with exertion. 
But the restraints were fool proof.  Glennis and her staff had perfected
them through years of trial and error.

   "This really is pointless, you know," she told him.

   "Bitch!"

   He continued to thrash.

   "Okay, so fight all you want.  Exhaust yourself completely," she said.
"If that's what you need to do.  When you're ready to calm down and listen
like a reasonable person, I'll be back."

   She started to go.

   "No!  Wait."

   She turned around.

   "Yes?" she said.

   "What do you want?" His voice grew more conciliatory.  "Just tell me,
okay?  You want me to make this investigation go away.  No problem.  You
want me to protect your operation.  You got it.  Anything.  Just let me off
this table, okay?"

   She titled her head, as if considering his request.  "Mmm, no.  I won't
let you off the table just yet.  But I will be happy to explain your
situation, if you're ready to pay attention and not interrupt.  Do you
think you can do that, Detective?"

   "You realize you're not going to get away with this, don't you?"

   "Oh, Detective, I get away with this kind of thing all the time.  It's
one of the perks of being the third richest woman in the world.  Now are
you ready to listen to what I have to say?"

   He glared at her insolently.

   "Should I take that as a yes?"

   "*Yes*," he finally said, angrily.

   She smiled sweetly.  "Good.  Then I should tell you that you've been
brought here to my private estate.  This is where you'll remain until I'm
done with you, *if* I'm ever done with you."

   "You can't *do* that," he said, looking at her as if she'd just sprouted
a second head.  "You can't just keep people against their will."

   "Oh, but I can.  Now I'm sure you're plotting all kinds of ways to
escape even as I'm standing here explaining all this to you.  Let me save
you the trouble.  It won't work.  No one has ever escaped.  There are all
kinds of elaborate security measures between here and the outside.  And
even if you were to make it that far, the grounds are protected by armed
guards.  And even if you were to get by them, every employee who works for
me knows there will be an extra special bonus for them if they bring back a
runaway subject."

   "Who the hell *are* you?" he asked.

   She ignored his question.  "But let's suppose you do somehow make it off
my property.  The estate is surrounded on all sides by swamp land.  It's
virtually impassible, even to people who have a clue where they are, which
you of course don't.  Not to mention that it's crawling with alligators on
the lookout for their next meal, and you'd certainly make a tasty treat. 
But then even if by some miracle you did make it through the swamp and
managed to stumble your way into town, you'd simply be brought back here by
the sheriff's department or one of the town's fine, upstanding citizens,
all of whom make it a point to stay in my good graces."

   "You don't own everyone," he insisted.  "You don't own *me*."

   She patted him on the shoulder as if he were a slow-witted child.  "The
point is that you will not be leaving here any time soon.  And if you're
smart, and I know you are, you'll make your peace with your new life and be
as cooperative as possible.  That way everything will go much easier for
you, and Bradshaw here won't be forced to resort to any brutish measures
while he helps you learn your new station in life."

   "My station?  What the hell?"

   "Oh, yes, James.  I told you that you were going to be taught a lesson.
You've been such a naughty boy.  It's time you had a taste of your own
medicine."

   "You know you really are one crazy bitch."

   "Such a gutter mouth.  You've been on the streets too long, James. 
You've picked up far too many bad habits out there."

   "It's not too late for you.  You can still get out of this.  Just let me
go.  I won't say a word to anyone.  I swear.  It'll be our secret."

   "Secrets.  Mmm." She nodded.  "That's what it's really all about, isn't
it?" She leaned closer.  "You see, I already know your secrets, James.  I
know how you use your position of authority and trust to exploit people,
how you just take whatever you want, in the name of the law.  But I'm going
to help you see the error of your ways.  I'm going to help you make
restitution."

   "Look, what happened back at that condo, it was all just a fluke.  I
swear, I've never--"

   She laughed and shook her head.  "You really don't remember me, do you?
I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

   He frowned, obviously confused, clearly not able to place her.

   "Don't overtax yourself," she told him.  "You'll figure it out
eventually.  But needless to say, I *know* you make it a habit to force
yourself on the unlucky working girls you happen to catch."

   "That's what this is all about?  Look, I don't know who you are or what
you think I'm guilty of.  But I always gave every girl I was with a choice.
They *wanted* it.  Hell, that's what they *do*.  They fuck.  And you can
damn well bet they got off on it.  So just undo these straps, and I'll be
on my way."

   "That's a very interesting theory you have there, James.  So you think
it's a perfectly fair choice, having to decide between being locked up or
fucked over?"

   James snorted.  "*Yeah.* Otherwise, they would have just gone to jail. I
gave them a *chance.*"

   "Hmm.  Well, we'll see if you change your mind about that once the
shoe's on the other foot.  Anyway, I was explaining the rules.  And this is
the most important part.  So listen carefully.  There will be some things
you'll be asked to do.  *Asked.* Of course, you will always be free to say
no.  On the other hand, there will be the occasional thing that I'll *tell*
you to do.  In those cases, you will promptly obey, or you *will* be
punished."

   "What the hell-- I'm a *cop.* And there's such a thing as the law."

   She sighed.  "Try to keep up, James.  You *were* a cop.  Now you're
mine. And I can do with you as I please.  From now on, as far as you're
concerned, I *am* the law.  " She took a deep breath.  "Now, I'm not one
who actually enjoys meting out punishment, as so many others do.  For me,
it's always a last resort, when more reasonable methods fail.  Make no
mistake, though.  I won't tolerate any rebelliousness, and the penalty for
disobedience is quite harsh."

   "You lay a hand on me, and I'll fucking kill you!"

   "You think?" She smiled.  "But, you know, let me show you what I mean by
punishment.  A picture really is worth a thousand words, as they say. 
Bradshaw, could you bring in Kenny, please?"

   "Of course, madam."

   Bradshaw left the room and returned a few moments later with another
subject in tow, a dark-haired young man, nude and shackled, with a sulky
expression on his face.

   "Ah, Kenny," she said to him.  "You're not looking very happy."

   Kenny's lip trembled, but he made no response.

   "But you have learned your lesson, haven't you?" she said, caressing his
cheek.

   He nodded, his eyes down cast.

   Glennis turned back to James.  "You see, Kenny comes from a very
privileged background.  He's been used to having his way in most
everything. A little too used to it, I'm afraid.  Other people's rights,
not to mention their feelings, never meant very much to him, and he was
really quite a bad boy.  But whenever he got caught, his father would just
use his money and influence to get him off.  So he was able to rape pretty
much with impunity.  I guess it's no wonder that he really had some
adjustment problems when he arrived here.  He hit one of his trainers and
tried to run away.  Two strikes against him, I'm afraid.  And the penalty--
Well, Kenny, why don't you come stand by James and let him see for himself
what the penalty was."

   Kenny shuffled forward, the metal of his shackles clanging as he moved.
He pressed close to the side of the examining table, so James could reach
him with his bound hand.

   "Okay, James, go ahead."

   "Go ahead and what?" James asked, with alarm.

   "Touch Kenny's scrotum."

   "Fuck!" James tried to scramble away, unsuccessfully, his bonds holding
him in place.

   "Don't get an aneurism.  I'm just asking you to--"

   "Hey, look, I'm not into that queer shit.  I'm not--"

   "Just do it," she said, impatiently.  "I'm trying to make a point here.
Kenny, move closer so James can reach."

   "I told you--" James started to insist.

   "Oh, for heaven's sake!" She forced James' hand open and pushed Kenny's
hips forward.  "There.  That's what happens to slaves who act out."

   James stared at her in horror, as he felt Kenny's scrotum.  "Oh, my God.
His sack.  Its--"

   "Empty," Glennis finished the sentence for him.  "We castrated him."

   "Oh, God," James said, and then he vomited.

   Glennis told Bradshaw, "We're finished with Kenny.  He can go.  And
could you help James get cleaned up?"

   "Of course, madam."

   Bradshaw motioned for a technician to escort Kenny from the room.  He
picked up a basin of soapy water that was waiting on the counter.  They had
come to expect a strong reaction from new subjects hearing the rules for
the first time.  He began to mop away the vomit with a sponge.  James was
pale, and he shook, as though in shock.

   "So now you've had your warning," Glennis told him.  "From now on, the
price for bad behavior is the loss of a testicle.  Make two mistakes, and
you'll be a gelding, just like Kenny."

   "You're sick," James said, his voice hoarse, filled with terror and
disgust.

   "No, just practical.  You wouldn't believe how effective a simple threat
to a man's balls can be in gaining his cooperation." And then she laughed.
"Well, maybe you would believe it."

   James visibly flinched.

   "Oh, don't panic.  It's not like I *want* to do anything to these
beauties." She fondled him appreciatively.  "In fact, you just might have
the most gorgeous balls I've ever seen, Detective Henderson, so large and
shapely.  Let's be a good boy and make sure they stay that way, hmm?"

   "What do you want from me?"

   "You mean you haven't guessed by now?  Tsk, tsk, Detective.  I had
expected better powers of deduction than that."

   "Just *tell* me."

   "I want you to experience what your victims went through.  I want you to
know what it's like to be a whore.  Have you ever given a man a blow job,
James?"

   "Fuck!" James lurched and thrashed at his bonds.  "You bitch!  I'll
*never* do that.  You can't make me!"

   "Make you?" She shook her head.  "Oh, no.  Remember your own theory,
James?  That whores willingly choose everything that happens to them?  That
they want it, like it?  Even deserve it?  You're going to service clients
of your own free will.  You're going to beg to be allowed to suck as many
dicks as you can get.  And you're going to tell anybody who'll listen how
much you love it."

   "Now I know you're insane."

   "Well, we'll just see about that, won't we" She motioned to Bradshaw. 
"Turn him over."

   Before James could react, Bradshaw and three other experienced
assistants had flipped him over onto his stomach and refastened his
restraints.

   "Fuck!  FUCK!  Let me up!?"

   "Try to calm down, James.  You're going to give yourself a stroke."

   Bradshaw snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and the sound made James
jump with alarm.

   "What the fuck are you doing?  Don't you touch me.  Don't you FUCKING
touch me!"

   "Just try to relax," she said to him.

   Bradshaw squirted some lubricant onto his gloved hand and squeezed a
small dollop of medicated cream onto his index finger.  He parted James'
cheeks and began to push the finger inside him.

   "Hey!  HEY!" James' face turned scarlet.  "Get off me, faggot!  Hey! 
You hear me?  Get your faggot hands off me!"

   Bradshaw ignored him, pushing his finger deeper, probing for the
prostate.

   "STOP!" James screamed.  "It hurts.  It fucking hurts!  Get it out.  GET
IT OUT!"

   James continued to shriek, but Bradshaw just went on massaging the cream
into his prostate.  When he was finished, he withdrew his finger and
removed the gloves.

   "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Glennis said.

   James was breathing heavily, his lip trembling.  "Bitch," he muttered.

   "Okay, let's turn him back over," she instructed her team.

   The four assistants flipped James over, so that he was lying on his back
once more.

   "I feel weird," he complained.  "Too hot.  What the hell--"

   He sucked in his breath as he grew suddenly and ferociously erect.  The
cream they had given him was twenty times more powerful than Viagra. 
Glennis could only imagine that it had never been put on the market because
of the way it had to be administered.  She knew the average man would
rather remain impotent than allow something to be stuck up his butt, even
if it was for medicinal purposes.

   "Fuck!  What did you *do* to me?" James demanded, looking down at his
rampaging hard on with the beginning of terror in his eyes.

   Glennis loved this part.  To make a man hard against his will was a
violation in and of itself, a prelude to all the other indignities that
would follow.  No matter how James might rationalize it--that it was the
drug and he couldn't help his body's reaction--she knew there was a part of
him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that wondered if someone else could
have resisted, if there was something wrong with him, if maybe his worst
nightmare had just come true and he'd actually thrown a boner from having
his ass fingered.

   "I'm giving you the same kind of choice you gave all those working girls
you hassled over the years," she told him.

   "It hurts!  Fuck, it hurts." James desperately tried to move his hands.

   "I'm afraid that's not going to help.  You're not going to be able to
touch yourself or rub against anything."

   "Help me.  Please!  God, *do* something."

   "I'll be happy to help you, James.  Just as soon as you agree, of your
own free will of course, to start performing fellatio."

   "Fucking bitch.  I told you.  That's *never* going to happen."

   "Never, huh?" She looked down at his red and enormously swollen cock. 
"I hope you can hold out that long." And then she laughed.  "Let me know
when you change your mind.  Bradshaw's ready when you are to start teaching
you all about the fine art of cocksucking."

   She headed for the door.

   "Fuck you!" he screamed

   She smiled to herself as she walked down the corridor.

   "Fuck you!  FUCK YOU!"

   She could hear him screaming almost to the next level.  Sometimes being
a Fury could be so satisfying.

   ***

   James' resolve barely lasted a day.  He was kept ragingly erect almost
the whole time, allowed to soften only briefly between doses of the drug,
just long enough to urinate.  He was restrained, so it was impossible for
him to bring himself off.  Every now and then, one of the technicians would
lightly tease his cock with the brush of fingers or the tickle of a
feather, just enough to heighten his arousal, without bringing him to
orgasm.  No man could stand such teasing forever, and James was especially
unused to having his needs go unfulfilled.  Glennis was a little
disappointed that he didn't prove a more worth adversary, but then, the
corrupt hardly ever did.  They were so accustomed to trampling the
defenseless, that they had no idea how to defend themselves.

   James certainly looked ill equipped to deal with his situation, lying
strapped to the table, his erection purple and obscenely swollen, his balls
bloated.

   "I'm so glad you've come to your senses," Glennis told him.

   "You're fucking torturing me," he said, indignantly.

   "Now, James, surely a hard cock is nothing new to you."

   His eyes glittered angrily.  "I hate you," he hissed.

   She pretended to pout.  "And I'm so fond of you.  Well, anyway, let's
not dwell on that.  Let's get down to business.  First, you need to tell us
what you want."

   "I want to come, you bitch."

   "And you know the rules about that."

   "Fuck you." And then his voice went soft.  "I just want to do what I
have to, so I can get some fucking relief."

   "You have to say it first, James.  We have to have your consent."

   "You think I don't know what you're doing?  You think I don't realize
how you're trying to mind fuck me, you sick bitch?"

   She shrugged.  "Believe what you want.  I'm only trying to help you."

   "Let's just get it over with, okay?"

   "Get what over with, James?"

   He set his jaw and refused to speak.

   "Oh, come on, James," she chided.  "It's not that hard, is it?  All you
have to do is tell us you want to perform fellatio.  You can do that, can't
you?"

   "I want to *come*," he insisted.

   "So go ahead and tell me what I need to hear."

   "Bitch," he muttered.

   "If you're going to waste my time--" She started to leave.

   "Wait!  Don't go."

   "So?"

   James swallowed hard.  "I want-- I want to perform--" His voice broke.
"Fellatio," he said, very quietly.

   She beamed at him proudly.  "Wonderful, James.  Now that wasn't so
difficult, was it?"

   He glared at her hatefully.

   "Okay, okay," she said.  "So you've never given head before, is that
right, James?"

   "Of course not," he spat out angrily.  "I told you I'm not into that
faggot shit."

   "Well, that means you're going to need some instruction.  Bradshaw here
will be happy to guide you through it.  And I'll throw in some pointers,
too.  Are you ready, Bradshaw?"

   "Yes, madam."

   "Okay.  Go ahead then."

   Bradshaw unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop.  As he pushed his
briefs down over his hips, his good-sized erection sprang free, curving up
toward his belly.

   "Fuck!" James said, his eyes large and round.

   "Ordinarily, it would be your job to undress and arouse your clients,
but since this is your first time and we're not quite ready to trust you
with your hands free, Bradshaw has taken care of this part for you."

   James stared at Bradshaw's dick, transfixed by fear, a look Glennis had
seen many times on the faces of unwilling male subjects.

   "Get down on your knees in front of him," Glennis instructed.

   James shook his head.  "No way.  I'll suck him, but I'm not doing that."

   "I'm afraid it's mandatory.  You know yourself that the submissiveness
of the person doing the sucking is a big part of the thrill of getting
blown."

   "Fuck you, bitch."

   "Do you want to come or not?" she asked.

   "I *said* fuck *you*!"

   She sucked on her index finger and lightly traced the vein along the
underside of his straining dick.  He groaned pitifully.

   She asked again, "Do you want to come?"

   He gritted his teeth.  "I'm going to get free someday, and then I'm
going to make you sorry you ever fucked with me."

   "Mmm, I'll remember that.  But for now, why don't you just accept that
you're going to have to get on your knees or you're never going to come
again."

   She gently cupped his balls, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

   "Or maybe you don't really need to come so badly after all?"

   "You know I do." His body shook with need.

   "So what are you going to do about it?"

   James swallowed hard and grudgingly dropped to his knees.

   "That's much better," she told him.  "Kneel there in front of him,
meekly, like you're praying to his dick.  Look at it, admire it.  A man
doesn't just want to have his cock sucked.  He wants to have it worshipped.
Something I'm sure you know from personal experience."

   James struggled to keep the sneer on his face, but Glennis could see how
he clenched his hands, how he pressed his lips together in a tight, grim
line.  It had been one thing to agree to this in the abstract, something
distant and unreal, which he probably figured he could get out of one way
or another.  It was something else entirely to be faced with the reality of
it all, to have a man's cock bobbing in front of his mouth, to feel the
heat from it, to smell it.  To know that in a few short seconds he was
going to have to take it in his mouth and cross the sexual rubicon every
heterosexual man lived in terror of.

   "Okay, Bradshaw, you can take it from here," she told her assistant. 
"Tell James what to do, how to please you."

   Bradshaw took James' head in his hands.  James tried to pull away, but
Bradshaw's grasp was firm.

   "A good cocksucking starts slow and builds," Bradshaw explained.  "Blow
on the head."

   James hesitated, his lip trembling.

   "Go on," Bradshaw coaxed.

   James closed his eyes, pursed his lips and blew very primly.

   "Keep it up," Bradshaw told him.  "Vary the rhythm, short puffs and then
long ones.  Yeah, good.  Good.  That feels nice.  Now, kiss it."

   James started to balk, but Bradshaw held him in place.

   "Put your lips on my dick and start kissing," Bradshaw reiterated, in a
firmer voice.

   James curled up his mouth in disgust as he planted a quick little peck.

   "Like you're enjoying it," Bradshaw instructed.  "Kiss down the shaft
and back up again.  That's good.  Now the other side.  Oh, that feels so
good, James.  You're good at this.  Okay, now lick the head."

   James' face was filled with trepidation as he darted out his tongue for
a quick swipe.

   "Ugh!  Shit, that tastes fucking awful."

   Bradshaw laughed.  "Now you know what women put with, how they all just
pretend to like it.  You have to pretend, too, like it's candy and you
can't get enough.  Swirl your tongue around the head and play with the
slit. Like my come tastes so good you have to go right to the source."

   Glennis smiled as she watched James start to grow more bold, going from
a tentative flirtation with Bradshaw's cock to licking at it like it was an
ice cream cone.  It never ceased to amaze her how quickly people could
adapt to almost anything if they had enough incentive.

   "Oh, yeah, that's so good, James," Bradshaw moaned.  "I love your hot,
sweet mouth.  Give me more of it.  Cover your teeth with your lips and take
my dick into your mouth.  Just the head.  Oh, yeah.  Now suck me."

   The sight of James with his lips wrapped around another man's cock made
Glennis feel flushed and needy, but she would take care of it later, in the
privacy of her own bedroom, watching the video of James' oral deflowering
as many times as she pleased.

   "Yeah, suck me harder," Bradshaw urged.  "Use your tongue.  Oh, yeah. 
Like that.  Breathe through your nose.  Take more of the shaft into your
mouth.  Lick down the sides.  Yeah.  And that place beneath the head, you
know what I'm talking about."

   Bradshaw's fingers clenched in James' hair.  His mouth was open, and his
eye were heavy lidded with pleasure.  And despite the fact that Glennis had
known and respected him for years, she felt in that moment the most intense
hatred for him, that he could do what she could not, simply because he had
a dick and she didn't.  This was the one, elusive weapon she would never be
able to buy for herself--a real dick, not a toy facsimile.  Not that she
would have traded being a woman.  Nothing could be more delicious than
that. It was just that she regretted always having to use proxies to do her
job.  She would have liked to be able to deliver retribution with her own
body, to unman and degrade her prey herself.

   "Aaah.  Yeah," Bradshaw urged.  "That's it.  Suck me, whore.  Suck my
dick."

   He began to rock his hips.  James' eyes bulged as he struggled to
accommodate more of his shaft.

   "Relax your muscles," Bradshaw told him.  "Try to get it as far down
your throat as you can."

   Of course, there were also benefits to watching.  Glennis savored the
panicked expression on James' face as he found out what it felt like to
deep throat a cock.

   "Oh, yeah.  Yeah.  Take it, whore.  Take my dick down your tight, slut
throat."

   Bradshaw began to thrust more vigorously, pulling on James' ears.  James
started to struggle, to resist.

   "Don't," Glennis warned.  "This is the secret to cocksucking.  It seems
like it's something you're doing to him.  But really it's something he's
doing to you.  And you have to let him do whatever he wants, let him fuck
your face however he chooses."

   "Oh, God." Bradshaw began to thrust wildly, and James looked terrified.
"I'm coming, whore.  You're making me come in your mouth.  Take it.  Take
it all."

   "Swallow, James.  Don't you dare spit it out," Glennis told him.

   "AAAGH!" Bradshaw's hips bucked as his come exploded out of him.

   James struggled to swallow it all, his throat muscles working
frantically, trying not to choke, but it was obviously more than he was
expecting.  The sticky white fluid overflowed his mouth and went all over
his face.  Bradshaw's orgasm subsided, and he pulled away.  James crumpled
to the floor.

   "Not bad for a first time," Glennis said.  "What did you think,
Bradshaw?"

   "I'd say he has a real natural talent," he said, still a little out of
breath.

   "Did you hear that, James?  Natural talent.  That's wonderful."

   James didn't stir.  He lay curled on the floor, sobbing softly.  Glennis
knelt beside him and touched his shoulder.

   "James?" she said gently.

   He didn't stop crying.

   She stroked his shoulder and his back.  "Come on and sit up, huh, baby?"

   He didn't move, but he did let her maneuver him into a sitting position.
Tears streaked down his face and cum dripped from his chin, the picture of
unmanned misery.  This was what men spent all their lives working so hard
to avoid, taking refuge in swaggering machismo, telling faggot jokes to
make it clear that they were *real* men, the sucked, never the sucker, the
fucker, never the fucked.  And now James knew what it was to be on the
other side of the equation, some other man's personal come dump.  And
Glennis could look in his eyes and see that the terrible thing he feared
had come true.  He really never would be the same again.

   "Oh, James.  James.  Don't cry, baby.  It wasn't really that bad, was
it?"

   He shuddered violently.

   "Let's get you cleaned up, huh?  Maybe that will make you feel better.
Bradshaw, could you hand me a wash cloth?"

   "Of course, madam." Bradshaw ran the water in the sink.  "Here you are."
He handed her a damp cloth.

   "Thank you." She tenderly washed James' face.  "I bet that feels good,
huh?  Nice and clean again."

   She guided his head to her breast, stroked his hair while he cried, and
murmured little nonsense phrases of comfort.  She could feel him relax
against her, enjoying the touch of a woman, needing it after what he'd just
been through, even if it was from the very same woman who had caused all
his misery.

   Glennis couldn't help finding his acquiescence repulsive.  It was all so
easy, and she had wanted him to be more worthy.  But the mind was a brittle
organ, she knew that too well.  It was the foundation of her work, after
all.  To be slapped by someone with one hand and caressed with the
other--the brain could never wrap itself around that paradox and tended
simply to collapse into confusion.  Its solution was to forget the pain and
live for the fleeting moments of tenderness.  Soon enough, James would do
anything she wanted, willingly, eagerly, for the simple recompense of a
kind touch.

   "There, there," she said, rubbing his back.

   Finally he pulled away.  "Why?" he asked, in a shaky voice.

   "Why what, baby?"

   "Why are you being so nice to me?"

   "I have your best interest at heart, James.  You'll come to see that
some day."

   He shook his head vehemently.  "You* made* me--" His face twisted with
disgust.  "You made me do *that*."

   "No, baby.  You chose that of your own free will.  Remember?  You said
you wanted it."

   James' lip began to tremble again.  "It was horrible."

   "My poor James," she said.  "It's always hardest the first time, but
you'll get used to it.  All you need is some practice."

   He shook his head.  "No." He sobbed.  "I'm not doing that ever again. 
Just this once.  That's all."

   "Okay, baby.  Whatever you say." She smoothed his hair back from his
face.  "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

   "Please, undo my hands" he said, looking down at his angry red cock.  "I
hurt so bad."

   "Oh, baby, you haven't earned the right to have an orgasm.  I'm sorry,
but rules are rules."

   He stared at her in disbelief.  "But you said-- You said if I-- did
that, then I could come.  And I did it.  I--" Tears welled up in his eyes.

   "Sucking Bradshaw doesn't count.  He's your trainer.  That blow job was
for your benefit, not his.  To earn the right to come, you have to service
actual clients."

   He shook his head wildly.  "No!  You *said*--"

   "I'm sorry if you misunderstood me, but this is the way it's always
been, for everybody around here.  Isn't that right, Bradshaw?"

   "Yes, madam.  Always."

   "To be allowed to come, you have to earn points.  You get one point for
every blow job you give.  You can also earn extra credit for enthusiasm and
skill.  That's judged by each individual client."

   "No," he moaned.  "No.  God.  Please."

   "Since you're still learning your art, you'll start out by giving head
to employees who work here on the estate.  They deserve a treat every now
and then."

   He started to rock back and forth.  "You can't do this.  You can't."

   "Now, it's reasonable to expect that accidents may happen during your
novice period.  You don't have to worry that this will result in the loss
of a testicle, not unless we're certain you did it on purpose."

   "Oh, God!"

   "But you will still be corrected, to help you remember to be more
careful in the future.  Do you understand?"

   "I can't do this," he said, miserably.  "Please.  I need to come.  Now."

   "And I just explained why that's not possible.  Now, you can start
earning the points you need.  Or not.  It's completely up to you."

   "I need to come so bad," he said, desperately.

   "Then you need to start giving blow jobs.  Are you ready to do that?"

   "You're totally fucking evil, you know that?"

   "Maybe," she conceded.  "If that's what you call someone with very
strict rules and all the power needed to enforce them.  So do you want to
start servicing clients or what?"

   His face was red with shame, and he wouldn't look at her.  But he did
nod.

   "Good.  Now, whenever you're ready to give head, all you have to do is
let Bradshaw know.  Just tell him: I want another cock to suck. 
Understand?"

   "I hate you so much," he said.

   She nodded.  "Yes, I think you've mentioned that before.  Now, answer my
question.  Do you understand?"

   "*Yes,*" he said, belligerently.

   "Okay, then go ahead and say it whenever you're ready."

   "I--"

   "Only if you really want to come."

   "I want another cock to suck," he whispered.

   "Did you hear that, Bradshaw?"

   "I'm not sure, madam."

   "I think you're going to have to speak up a little, James.  Now, what is
it that you want?"

   "Another cock to suck," he said, more loudly, coloring with
embarrassment.

   Glennis smiled.  "If you're sure?"

   He nodded his head.  "Hurry.  I'm really in pain."

   "Okay, Bradshaw, bring in his first customer."

   Bradshaw nodded and left the room.

   "And, James," Glennis said.  "Don't forget that you get extra points for
skill and enthusiasm.  So don't just rush through it.  Look eager.  Tell
them how good they taste, how much you like sucking them, deep throat them
if you can.  Make sure you swallow.  Men always like that.  You'll get your
points sooner."

   Bradshaw returned with one of the household maintenance workers.  The
man had already taken out his cock.  It bobbed in front of him as he moved
eagerly toward James.

   "Call me if there are any problems," Glennis told Bradshaw.

   He nodded.

   "Bon appetite," she said to James and couldn't help laughing as she left
him to a long afternoon of cocksucking.

   ***

   Glennis watched James' progress with interest and amusement.  Her staff
kept her updated with videos of his sessions, and occasionally, she would
stop by the observation booth to watch for herself through the two-way
mirror.  It was true what she had told him; it really did get easier with
practice.  With each cock, his technique improved, and a little more of his
hesitation disappeared.  As he came closer to earning enough points to be
allowed to come, he grew positively animated.  He would kiss and lick and
suck with intense concentration, really working the dick, moaning in the
back of his throat as if in appreciation, a little trick he'd learned along
the way, something his clients loved and rewarded with extra points.

   Whenever he finished with one cock, he would immediately beg for the
next, come still glistening on his lips.

   Glennis watched through the mirror as James eagerly slurped away,
dutifully servicing one of the farmhands who worked on her estate.  The man
gripped James' head and shoved his cock roughly in and out of his mouth,
taunting him with every thrust.

   "Suck me, faggot," he said.  "Get it down your throat and drink my come,
cocksucker."

   The man thrust in jerky, clumsy movements, and James was clearly
struggling to keep up with him.

   "Aaaagh!" the man cried out suddenly and slapped James hard across the
face.  "Bitch!"

   Bradshaw immediately intervened, and Glennis hurried into the room.

   "What is going on here?" she demanded.

   "This stupid whore scraped me with his teeth."

   James scrambled to his feet.  "It's not my fault he moves like a clumsy
idiot."

   The man lunged at James.  "I'll teach you to show some respect, with a
fist to your faggot face."

   Bradshaw caught him before he could hit James again.  "Remember where
you are and in whose presence."

   The farmhand froze, an expression of realization and then fear flashing
across his face.  He ducked his head and said with grovelling humility,
"Forgive me, senora."

   "What is your name?" Glennis asked.

   "Julio, senora."

   "Well, Julio, you seem to have forgotten the orientation you went
through when you began working here."

   "I apologize, senora.  I lost my temper."

   "I'm afraid that's not an excuse.  We have very clear procedures for
dealing with situations such as these.  And you know you're never allowed
to strike a subject unless specifically ordered to do so by me or a member
of the training staff.  You do remember these rules, don't you?"

   "Yes, senora.  I am so sorry to disobey."

   She studied him a moment.  "All right.  Since it's your first
infraction, your wages will be docked and further interaction with subjects
after this is denied until you pass a remedial course on proper etiquette.
Is that understood?"

   "Yes, senora.  Thank you.  You are too kind."

   "Just see that it never happens again, or I won't be quite so
magnanimous."

   Glennis turned back to James, who was not even trying to hide the smirk
on his face.

   "As for you," she said.  "You were warned that you would be punished if
something like this happened."

   "He jerked around so much," James insisted.  "How was I supposed to help
it?"

   She shook her head with disappointment.  "That's completely the wrong
attitude, James.  When you're sucking a man's cock, your job is to please
him, period.  It doesn't matter what he does.  It doesn't matter if his
cock is so filthy you practically choke on it or if he gets off on hurting
you or if he doesn't really know what he's doing.  There are no excuses for
failing to satisfy him.  This is an important lesson, and you *will* learn
it."

   "But it was *his* fault.  It's not fair!"

   "Oh, James, please.  Don't be a child.  When has fairness ever had
anything to do with anything?  Was it fair that you forced yourself on
every hooker who had the misfortune to work the same area you patrolled? 
Now quit sniveling and take your punishment like a man."

   Bradshaw stepped forward.  "I have the ball spreader, madam."

   "Good.  Put it on him.  Just make sure he doesn't get off on it."

   Bradshaw nodded.  "Corrine, squeeze the base of his penis while I put
this on, just in case."

   "What the fuck is that for?" James demanded with alarm.

   "It's to separate your balls, James.  So each one can get the attention
it deserves," Glennis said.

   "What the hell for?"

   He started to squirm.

   "Hold still," Bradshaw said.

   "Get that faggot thing off me!"

   He tried to pull away, but Bradshaw had too much experience for him.  In
a few short moments, the ball spreader was snapped snugly in place.  James'
balls were pushed out from his body and apart from each other, so that each
was prominently displayed.

   "Okay, you can let go of his cock now, Corrine," Bradshaw instructed.

   "I want this piece of shit off my balls," James said, more shrilly.

   "What I'm about to say is very important, James.  So I want you to
listen carefully.  Remember how we discussed the difference between things
you're *asked* to do versus what you are *ordered* to do?  Well, this is an
order, and you *will* obey it.  In a moment, Bradshaw is going to release
your hands.  If you look up, you'll see straps hanging from the ceiling. 
When your hands are freed, you will reach up and grab hold of those straps.
You will *not* touch yourself.  You will hold onto the straps until I tell
you that you may let them go.  You will *not* let go of them before you
receive permission, not for any reason.  Failure to obey *will* result in
the loss of a testicle."

   James paled.

   "I'm sure you remember what happened to the unfortunate Kenny.  Hold
onto the straps, and you won't end up like him."

   "What are you going to do to me?" James asked, truly scared now.

   "Bradshaw," she said.  "Free his hands."

   Bradshaw nimbly undid the fastenings and released him.  He stretched his
arms and rubbed his wrists to help restore the circulation.  But he didn't
try to touch his cock.

   "Grab the straps," Glennis commanded.

   James hesitated, his face filled with dread, but he did finally obey,
lifting his arms and putting his hands through the loops.

   "It's a good idea to hold on tight," she told him.  "To make sure you
don't let go."

   "Please, don't," he begged.  "I'll be more careful.  I'll never do it
again.  Please don't hurt me."

   She shook her head.  "Not me.  Julio.  He's the one you bit."

   "I didn't--"

   "Don't make me have to punish you for arguing, as well.  Trust me, it's
the last thing you need right now."

   "God, please, don't," he pleaded, futilely.

   Bradshaw handed her the paddle, similar in size and shape to the kind
used for playing ping pong, but specially constructed for its particular
task.

   When James saw it, he started to panic.  "What the fuck is that for?" he
asked.  "You're not going to beat my ass with that thing.  Don't you
fucking touch me."

   Glennis ignored him and spoke to Julio, "You do remember this part of
your training, don't you?"

   "Oh, yes, senora.  I promise to do it right."

   "You'd better," she said.  "Not too hard.  Alternate sides.  And you
stop when I tell you to."

   "Of course, senora.  Anything you say, I'll obey."

   "Very well, then.  Go ahead." She handed him the paddle.

   Julio gripped it eagerly, clearly looking forward to avenging his
wronged cock.

   "Stay the fuck away from me!" James screamed.  "I'm not going to let you
spank me with that."

   James kept his grip on the straps, but thrashed his lower body, trying
to twist away from Julio.  Bradshaw moved behind him and held his hips
firmly in place.

   "It's going to hurt more if you don't stop this silliness and just stay
still," Glennis told him.

   "Don't do this.  Please," James begged.

   Julio struck the first blow to his left testicle.

   "AAAAGH!" James shrieked, his eyes wide with shock and terror.  This was
obviously not what he had been expecting.

   Julio grinned and hit him again, on the other ball.  "Now you'll learn
to watch where you put your teeth, whore."

   Julio settled into a steady, punishing rhythm.  James howled in agony,
sweat pouring off his body.  He had to strain so hard to keep from letting
go of the straps that the tendons on the sides of his neck stood out.

   "How does that feel, fairy?" Julio jeered.  "Having your balls broken is
no better than having your cock bitten, ey?"

   James didn't even try to control his reaction.  He cried openly, tears
streaming pathetically down his cheeks.  It always entertained Glennis that
inflicting a little pain on a man's balls could make him sound just like a
little girl.

   When Glennis noticed the muscles in James' arms starting to shake, she
knew he couldn't take much more.

   "That's enough," she told Julio.

   He looked distinctly disappointed, but he did stop.

   "You can go now," she told him.

   He handed the paddle to Bradshaw and nodded to Glennis.  "Thank you,
senora."

   When he was gone, Glennis said to James, "So, I trust you'll be more
careful from now on."

   He nodded, gasping raggedly, his face red, his nose running.

   "All right, then.  You can let go."

   He sank to the floor and curled into a fetal position, sobbing
disconsolately, holding his injured balls.

   She watched him with a mixture of triumph and disgust.

   "Get him off the floor," she told Bradshaw.  "And bind his hands again.
I won't have him touching himself like that."

   As she turned to go, she took one last look at his shaking form, huddled
forlornly on the floor.  It was hard to believe he was the same man who had
haunted her for so many years.

   ***

   It took several days before James recovered sufficiently to return to
his duties.  His balls were still black and blue, and he grimaced whenever
he walked.  But he was healed enough to feel horny again, and so he was
determined to win the right to come.  He went back to sucking cock with
abandon, and soon enough, earned his reward.

   Glennis was quite excited for him.  In fact, she'd gone all out making
arrangements for his big day.

   When Bradshaw brought James into the salon, the room was packed with
guests, various friendly acquaintances and colleagues Glennis had invited
to share in the amusement.  They relaxed on the couches and comfortable
chairs, dressed in evening finery, sipping cocktails and chatting. 
Bradshaw led James through the crowd, and everyone stopped what they were
doing to stare, some with simple admiration, others with lewd hunger. 
James blushed furiously.

   In the center of the room on an elevated platform was a divan covered in
a rich red velvet cloth.  Bradshaw instructed James to lie down on it.  A
video camera on a tripod stood nearby.  Glennis joined them.

   "What are all these people doing here?" James asked her.

   "Why they've come to watch, of course," she told him.

   "No fucking way!  I'm not jerking off in front of your sick, perverted
friends.  So just forget about it."

   "I'm sorry, James, but this is the way we do things around here.  Isn't
it, Bradshaw?"

   "Yes, madam.  It is."

   "I *earned* this!" he insisted, sounding like a sullen teenager.

   She sighed.  "Oh, James, really.  What did you expect?  That you'd be
allowed to stroke and fondle and play with yourself, and it would be for
your enjoyment alone?"

   "*Yeah*."

   "James, a whore doesn't own his own pleasure.  His body is just a
plaything, for the pleasure of others, even when he's getting himself off."

   "I'm *not* a whore!"

   She tilted her head.  "You don't think so?  You gave blow jobs in order
to get something you wanted.  How is that different from selling your body
for money?"

   "But you *made* me."

   "No, I didn't.  You had a choice.  You wanted to come.  So you
prostituted your mouth for the privilege."

   "It wasn't like that," he denied.

   "Wasn't it?  Well, anyway, you *did* do it.  You sucked any man's cock
you were presented with and begged for more.  After that, surely you can do
something as simple as put on a little show for my friends.  What's it
going to hurt?  It's not as if you have any pride left."

   He flushed with fury.  "I won't!"

   She stood up.  "Oh, well, then.  I guess you don't really want to come.
That's fine.  Bradshaw, take him back to the training room."

   "No!  You promised."

   "And I've kept my word.  You're the one who's letting the opportunity go
to waste."

   "What have I ever done to you?" he asked, desperately.

   "Maybe you'll remember someday.  But right now, if you want to come,
you'll lie back on the couch and spread your legs as wide as you can.  And
then Bradshaw will unlock your hands, and you can start whenever you're
ready."

   For a moment, he looked as if he might continue arguing, but then his
shoulders slumped in defeat.  He scooted back onto the divan and opened his
legs.  Bradshaw gave him a few instructions on how to position himself, so
that he was perfectly splayed to give the audience a clear view of his
genitals and the rosy ring of his anus.  Bradshaw unfastened the binding.
James' dick was purple with need, twitching in anticipation, but he didn't
immediately reach for it.

   "I don't think I can," he whispered.

   "Can't you?" Glennis perched beside him on the edge of the divan.  "You
mean, you're going to pass up your chance to take care of this big, needy
cock of yours?"

   She ran a finger down the center of his chest, ignoring his straining
nipples, deliberating teasing him.

   "God!" he gasped.

   "Look at it, James.  Look at your dick.  I know it must hurt so much. 
It needs to be touched so badly."

   She stroked his belly, and his muscles trembled.

   "Please," he begged.

   "Don't you want to play with it?  Stroke it.  Tease it.  Caress it."

   He watched her intently, practically mesmerized.

   "I know you do.  I know you want it so badly.  And all you have to do is
make the first move.  Take that big dick in your hand and make yourself
feel good."

   His hand shook as he reached for himself.

   "Oh, yeah, James, it's going to feel so good."

   He put his hand on himself tentatively, almost as if he'd forgotten what
to do.  But then instinct kicked in, and he began to run his fingers along
the length of his erection.

   "Oh, God."

   He trembled with pent up need.  His hand began to move more surely on
his hardness.  His face grew rapt with pleasure

   "That's right, James.  Make it good.  Cup your balls.  Reach down and
play with your hole."

   He froze, a guilty look in his eyes.

   "Oh, yeah, I know you do that.  I'm sure you're probably careful never
to put your finger inside.  But you can't help how good it feels to touch
yourself there.  To rub your hole.  To tease it.  And that's all that
matters.  That it feels good.  Go on, James.  Make yourself feel good."

   And he did, stroking his cock and flirting with his asshole.

   "That's right, James.  Go to it.  Enjoy.  Make it last."

   She got up from the divan and motioned Bradshaw to follow.  They both
eased back into the crowd and left James the center of attention,
enthusiastically masturbating, to the delight of everyone in the audience.

   Glennis drifted to the side of the room and pressed a button on the
remote control panel, activating a large video screen on the far wall.  The
picture flickered, and then an image appeared, accompanied by a techno beat
sound track.  It was James on his knees noisily sucking an enormous black
cock, giving head with greedy, well-practiced abandon.

   The crowd cheered wildly.  James stared in horror as his worst shame was
paraded before the entire group of people.  But he couldn't keep his chest
from heaving with the exertion of his pleasure, and he didn't take his hand
off his cock.  On the video, he hummed appreciatively as he swirled his
tongue around the head of the dick.

   A voice on the tape, not James', but an actor who sounded a lot like
him, crooned, "God, you taste so good.  I can't get enough.  Fuck my face.
Please!"

   The crowd laughed raucously.  James looked like a deer caught in
headlights.

   "Oh, don't stop now, baby," a woman in the front row urged him.  "You
look so sexy.  You make me so hot."

   She opened her legs and ran her hands up and down her bare thighs.  She
was a notorious slut, and Glennis suspected James was being treated to the
sight of her naked, glistening pussy.  She was certain of it when he began
to pump his dick again despite the images on the video screen.

   "Mmmmm," the actor's voice on the video moaned, as the image showed
James forced to take the dick further down his throat, his Adam's apple
working frantically as he struggled to accommodate such a large cock.

   The woman in the front row gasped in pleasure, "Oh, yeah.  Yeah."

   James fondled his sack, rolling his balls, breathing heavily.  On
screen, there was a montage: image after image of James eagerly falling to
his knees, licking and kissing and sucking many different dicks, one right
after the other, attentively mouthing balls, dutifully swallowing come,
getting splattered in the face and greedily licking his lips, cleaning up
spent cocks with his tongue.

   And then the sound on the tape was actually James' own voice, begging,
"I want another cock to suck.  Please.  Another cock.  I want to suck. 
More cock.  More cock.  Please.  I need to suck."

   In real life, James moaned needily in the back of his throat.  Despite
himself, he was getting a pornographic thrill out of the scene of his own
humiliation.  His hips began to move rhythmically as he thrust into his
hand and fingered his asshole.

   In the video, the scene changed to James getting his balls punished, the
sharp thwack of the paddle accompanied by short grunts of pleasure, the
actor's voice again.

   "He likes getting his balls tortured," someone murmured in the crowd.

   "Oh, yeah," someone else said in a feverish voice.  "Paddle his nuts. 
Beat them til they're black and blue."

   James jerked himself harder, his eyes glassy with pleasure, getting
close to release.

   "Please," the actor's voice on the tape pleaded.  "Spank my balls.  Hurt
me.  I'm your toy, and I love what you do to me."

   'AAAAAGH!" James wailed as he climaxed.

   His hips lurched off the cushions as he frantically thrust into his
hand, the come spurting violently from his cock in long ropey arcs, wave
after wave, his asshole fluttering convulsively as he rode out the lengthy
orgasm.

   The whole room erupted in ecstatic cheers.

   James turned onto his side as he slowly came down from his orgasm, his
breathing ragged, his face red, his body glistening with sweat.  His cock
was soft, and he looked sated, relieved.  Glennis let him rest for a few
minutes, not because there was any mercy in her, but because it would make
what was coming next all the more devastating.

   Finally, she went to him and knelt by the divan.  She brushed her
fingers sensually down his arm.

   "You were so beautiful," she told him.  "So erotic.  This body is made
for pleasure."

   She stroked his chest and his thigh.  Once again, he leaned into her
touch, unable to tamp down his instinctive response.  Bradshaw handed her a
soft, damp cloth, and she tenderly washed away his come.

   "Mmm," he murmured, appreciatively, his eyes heavy, his body utterly
relaxed.

   She brushed the hair off his forehead.  "You did magnificently," she
whispered in his ear, brushing his cheek with her lips.  "I can't wait
until the next time."

   She pulled away and watched his face.  At first, he smiled, but then his
forehead knitted in confusion.

   "Bradshaw," she called.

   Her assistant moved quickly.  Before James could even think about
fighting it, the restraints were back in place.  Bradshaw snapped on a pair
of latex gloves and squirted lube onto his hand.

   James stared at the gloves, transfixed for a moment, his eyes wide and
bright with terror.

   Then he erupted.

   "NOOOO!" he bellowed.  "NOOOOO!"

   He kicked and thrashed, but three other technicians immediately hurried
to Bradshaw's aid.  Two of them maneuvered James' body, so that the other
could pull his cheeks apart.  Bradshaw applied the medicated cream to his
finger and pushed it into James' rectum.

   "AAAAGH!" James cried in desperation.  "NOOOOO!"

   Bradshaw worked in the medication and then removed his finger.  The
technicians turned James around to face the audience.  He was staring down
at his cock in horror.  In just a few moments, it began to stir.  Soon, he
was harder than he had been before, his erection purple and straining.  He
began to sob like a broken man.

   Everyone laughed uproariously.

   "Don't worry," Glennis told him, in a voice loud enough for the entire
room to hear.  "All you have to do is suck another fifty or so cocks, and
then you can do it all over again."

   Tears ran down his face as Bradshaw led him away.  The crowd laughed
harder.

   ***

   James remained sullen for days afterwards, stubbornly refusing to speak,
turning his head whenever she or Bradshaw approached him.  So they backed
off and left him alone with his thoughts.  Glennis knew, even if James
didn't, that this was the worst possible thing they could do to him.  It
would give him all the time in the world to relive every moment of his
recent encounters, to torture himself wondering if he could have held out
longer, if perhaps he had wanted it in some way, enjoyed it even.  He would
pick apart his every reaction, looking for signs, trying to rationalize
away anything that seemed too much like consent, never quite believing the
explanations he offered himself.

   The self-doubt inherent in human nature was a great friend to a Fury.

   In the end, though, all James' ruminations and rebellion meant nothing.
Need was need.  It couldn't be argued with.  Soon enough, he returned to
duty, slowly accumulating the points he needed to be allowed release again.
Bradshaw took his training to the next level, leaving his hands unfastened
while he worked, so he could use them to further pleasure his clients.  Of
course, he was given strict orders never to touch himself, and he docilely
obeyed, apparently too terrified of ending up like Kenny to risk it.

   As Glennis watched him through the glass, there were times when she
almost believed he enjoyed what he was doing.  She supposed it was
possible, perhaps even to be expected.  After all, performing this act of
pleasure for others brought him closer to his own eventual gratification.
Positive reinforcement was a simple but effective process, perhaps powerful
enough even to cultivate in James a sincere taste for his work

   The more she watched him, the more she felt certain that it was time to
launch his full-scale debut as a whore.

   When he'd completed the required number of blow jobs, she went to see
him.

   "So Bradshaw tells me you've performed very well.  Congratulations," she
told him.

   "Screw you," he said, but his tone lacked its usual sass.

   "Are you ready for your reward?" she asked.

   He nodded, but he didn't look as excited as she would have expected.

   "What's wrong, James?" she asked.

   He avoided her eyes and didn't answer.  She turned his chin and made him
look at her.

   "What is it?" she asked.

   "It's just that I know now that you're never going to let me you. 
You're always going to keep me hard.  And you're always going to make me
suck off all these guys.  There's never going to be any end," he said,
despondently.

   "Ah, my poor James," she said, stroking his cheek with the back of her
hand.  "What if I told you this is the last time you're going to have to
give blow jobs to be allowed to have an orgasm?"

   "Really?" he asked, hope warring with suspicion in his expression.

   "Really.  I promise, cross my heart and hope to die."

   He blinked, fighting back tears of relief.  "Thank you," he said.  "Oh
God, thank you."

   She smiled.  "Don't mention it.  Now, you have earned your pleasure, and
once again, I've invited some friends to share in it, a somewhat larger
crowd this time.  So I thought we'd use the auditorium."

   He nodded, too thrilled about his reprieve from giving blow jobs to put
up a fuss.  He'd already put on one sexual performance anyway.  Subjects
rarely resisted as strenuously the second time around.

   "Do you want to come, James?  Do you want to put on a show for my
friends?"

   He blushed a little, but he nodded anyway, despite the embarrassment.

   "Wonderful," she said.  "Now, Bradshaw is going to clean you up a little
and take you down to the auditorium.  I'll see you soon."

   When she left the room, James was actually smiling.  And that made her
smile, knowing his happiness would be short-lived.

   ***

   Glennis stood outside the auditorium and greeted her guests as they
arrived.  It was a varied group--self-made captains of industry and heirs
to family fortunes and some rather shadowy characters who had come into
their money in more colorful ways.  But their unusual taste in
entertainment and their ability to afford to feed that taste gave them all
common ground.  It made them a close-knit community.

   An arm snaked around Glennis' waist from behind, and someone kissed her
neck.

   "Guess who?" a voice whispered in her ear.

   "Carter," she said, with a sigh.

   She pulled away and turned around to face him.

   Of course, she should have realized he would come to the auction.  He
made it his mission in life to rape as many dirty cops as he could get his
hands on.  There was a little bit of the Fury in him, too.  But she had
been hoping to avoid seeing him again so soon after their last break up.

   "You don't sound glad to see me, Glennie," he said.

   "Explain to me again why you persist in calling me that ridiculous
nickname when I've asked you a million times not to?"

   "Because no matter what you say, I know there's a part of you that
secretly loves it."

   He favored her with his most sparkling smile, the one he always trotted
out whenever he did something purposefully to annoy her.

   She just wished the ploy weren't so successful.

   "I'm a little hurt, you know," he told her.

   "Oh, really?  I can't imagine why," she said.

   "Can't you?"

   He left the question hanging there, meaningfully, underscoring the fact
that she was always the one who called off their relationship.  She
squirmed a little, something she absolutely despised.  There was no one
else in the whole world who drove her crazy the way Carter did.

   "I mean, of course, that I'm hurt you didn't invite me to his first
public appearance," he explained.

   "I didn't think you were in town," she said.  "Wasn't there some
degenerate immigration official you were pursuing?"

   "The one who was forcing young women to star in hard core porn videos
before he'd let their children into the country?  That was last month."

   "Time does fly.  It's so hard to keep it all straight."

   "Do you think?  I have just the opposite problem.  Everything stays way
too vivid in my memory."

   "It's not good to live in the past, Carter."

   "Haven't you ever heard that history repeats itself?"

   She shook her head.  "Not always."

   "Why are you always so willing to give up?"

   "Why are you so determined never to see the handwriting?"

   He shook his head.  "I don't know why I even bother.  When you're so
incredibly stubborn."

   She shrugged.  "Then move on already, if I'm so impossible."

   He looked exasperated and started to say something further.  But then he
apparently thought better of it and changed the subject instead.

   "So tell me more about what we have to look forward to today," he said.
"What did this officer of the law do to get on your bad side?"

   "I don't want to spoil it for you," she said.  "But his debut will be
quite a treat.  I promise."

   "I'm breathless with anticipation," he told her.  "So, I'll see you
inside?"

   She nodded.  "The auction will be starting soon."

   He gave her one last smile and went inside.  She pulled herself up to
her full height and lifted her chin.  She refused to be distracted.  She
was a Fury.  She didn't *have* man trouble.  She *was* man trouble.

   ***

   After all her guests were comfortably settled, she joined James, who was
nervously waiting on stage behind the curtains, along with Bradshaw and
Corrine.

   "How many people are out there?" he asked, skittishly.

   "Oh, not as many as you would think.  It's an auditorium.  Voices carry.
So, are you ready for your reward?" she asked.

   He nodded, a little sheepishly.

   "Good," she told him.  "I'm sure you're going to enjoy yourself .  But
today, I would like to do something just a little bit different.  I'd like
to give my friends a preview before we get on with the show, to whet their
appetites.  Okay?"

   "Um-- Well, I guess--" he said, hesitantly.

   "And you know what would really make that exciting for them?  If you'd
wear a gag.  Would you do that for me, James?  Please?"

   He looked suspicious.  "Would I have to wear it while-- you know--"

   She shook her head.  "Absolutely not.  Just during the little tease I
want to give them.  Then it'll come right off."

   "Um, I don't know," James said, reluctantly, clearly not trusting her,
but unable to see how she could possibly hurt him with it.  "I suppose so,"
he finally agreed.  "I mean, you'll just force me to do it, anyway."

   "Now, James, that's not true," she said.  "You know how much I value
your cooperation.  So let's just slip this on, shall we?  It won't hurt, I
promise."

   Bradshaw helped her fasten the gag.  Glennis had chosen the kind that
resembled a cock.  She figured James would be more comfortable with that.

   "There.  Is that okay?  Any problems breathing?"

   He shook his head.

   "Good." She rubbed his back gently.  "Now there is one more thing. 
Nothing to worry about.  I'm just going to fasten these cuffs onto your
wrists, and then Corrine is going to pull that rope over there so your arms
are lifted over your head and you're standing on your tip toes."

   James blanched and began to make desperate, pleading noises through his
gag.

   "Oh, no.  No, James.  It's nothing like that." She stroked his arm
reassuringly.  "I know you haven't done anything wrong, and you're not
going to be punished.  I promise.  I just want to give my friends a thrill.
That's all.  And this will definitely get them going."

   He looked like he wanted to believe her, but wasn't at all sure he
could.

   She fastened the cuffs and murmured, "It's okay.  Everything's going to
be all right.  No one's going to punish you."

   Corrine hoisted the rope carefully, and Bradshaw guided James' arms
above his head.

   "Get up on your tiptoes, James," she urged him.  "It won't be for too
long.  I promise."

   She held his waist to steady him, and he raised himself up on his toes.

   "That's good," she said.

   Corrine fastened the rope, and James balanced awkwardly, his calves
flexed.

   "That's perfect," she told him.  "You're being such a good boy."

   She fondled his balls, and he moaned.

   "Oh, yeah, baby.  It's almost time."

   She motioned to her assistants.  " Take your places everyone."

   They moved to the sidelines, leaving only James and her on stage.  She
stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

   "You're making me so happy," she told him.  "I'm always going to
remember this.  And so are you."

   She left him there, his eyes filled with trepidation.  She pushed her
way through the curtains, and the crowd applauded enthusiastically.

   She smiled.  "Thank you," she said.  "I appreciate your all coming
today. As you know, this is a very important day, the debut of my most
recent subject.  And although we've gathered many times before for similar
occasions, this one has special meaning for me.  So I want you to join me
in welcoming my latest project to the stage.  May I present James."

   She extended her arm with a flourish, and the curtain opened, revealing
James, nude, ferociously erect, strung up by his wrists, balanced
precariously on his tiptoes, completely defenseless and thoroughly
humiliated.

   The crowd laughed with appreciation.

   "Your boy's quite the exhibitionist, Glennis," someone said from the
audience.  "Looks like he really gets off on being on display."

   "Indeed," she agreed.  "James has quite a carnal appetite.  Previously,
he was a high-ranking officer in the Vice division of a major police
department.  And I'm afraid he let his appetites get rather out of
control."

   "Tell us," a voice said from the seats.

   "He extorted nearly every hooker he came into contact with, forcing them
to give him sex in exchange for their freedom.  And occasionally, he even
preyed on women who weren't actually professionals, just in the wrong place
at the wrong time."

   James made noises through the gag and struggled at his bonds.

   "He seems to dispute the charges," one of her colleagues said, with
amusement.

   Glennis smiled.  "Don't they always?  But the fact is that James' crimes
are well documented, and that's what brings us here today.  His punishment.
James has been condemned to learn firsthand what his victims went through.
He has already performed countless acts of oral sex on men and has grown
quite proficient at it.  He's also put on his first live sex show, which
many of you attended not too long ago."

   "And we bought the video, too," an audience member chimed in.

   Everyone laughed.

   "Now, we're here for the pivotal moment in James' career as a whore,"
Glennis said.  "We're here to auction off his virginity and watch as he is
deflowered right here on this stage by some lucky audience member."

   Glennis watched James out of the corner of her eye as she delivered the
news.  He froze for a moment, his eyes wide, his face stark.  And then he
erupted into a frenzy of muffled screaming and futile convulsing.  The
audience laughed with pleasure, their hilarity only growing as his
struggles increased.  Finally, he had to stop and catch his breath, a
difficult task with the gag in place, his face bright red, his chest
heaving.

   "Now, I'm sure I don't have to tell you what a pleasure it will be to
take James' manhood from him.  As you can see, he is quite unwilling,
although of course he will be cooperative, as my subjects always are.  I
don't have to point out his obvious beauty.  Or his total helplessness. 
You'll be able to do to him anything you wish for as long as you can manage
it."

   The crowd chuckled, the women perhaps more loudly than the men.

   "Of course, there's also the thrill of sodomizing a former police
officer."

   James shook his head frantically, and Glennis could see Carter smile as
he watched this response.  She looked elsewhere and tried not to pay any
further attention to Carter.

   "And to top it all off," she told them.  "And I don't know how any of
you can resist this-- There is nothing James is more petrified of than
homosexuality.  He absolutely loathes 'faggots,' as he puts it.  So whoever
deflowers him will have the honor of turning him into the one thing he most
hates and fears.  What could possibly be more entertaining than that?"

   The auditorium buzzed with voices as prospective buyers talked excitedly
amongst themselves.  Despite the volume, Glennis could still hear the
pathetic, pleading whimpers James was making through the gag.  She licked
her lips.  This was going to be even better than she had imagined.

   Glennis gave her colleagues a few more moments to cultivate hard-ons
about how delicious it would be to unman James, and then she began the
auction.  "Bidding opens at $10,000," she told the audience.  "And I'm
afraid, ladies, that it's gentlemen only this time.  I want James to know
what it feels like to have a man come inside him the first time he's
penetrated."

   There was an audible sound of feminine disappointment across the room.

   "But he will be available for your pleasure any time after today," she
told them.

   The disgruntled noises turned to sounds of appreciation.

   "So, do I hear $10,000?" she asked.

   "Ten," an eager voice called out.

   "Fifteen."

   "Twenty."

   "Twenty-five."

   The bidding went into such a flurry that Glennis didn't have to say a
word until it stalled at $150,000.

   "Remember, this is for charity.  All the proceeds will go to help
runaways and missing children.  Also, don't forget that James' humiliation
will be captured on video," she reminded them.  "Your face obscured, of
course.  This video will reach hundreds of thousands of interested viewers
who will see your cock proudly violating a former member of the city's
finest.  The profit from the video will also be donated.  Now who wants to
raise the bidding to $200,000?" she asked.

   "Two hundred!"

   "Two twenty-five."

   The bidding caught fire again.

   When it reached $500,000, Glennis decided to wrap it up.  "Going once."
She paused.  "Going twice."

   "One million dollars."

   There was an audible gasp.  Glennis sighed.  It was Carter.  Of course.

   "Is that a serious offer?" she asked.

   "Have you ever known me to make any other kind?" He smiled.

   She shrugged.  "All right, then.  Have it your way.  Going once.  Going
twice.  Sold.  To the man who just donated a million dollars to my favorite
charity."

   He gave a little mock bow.  "My pleasure."

   "The ushers will show you back stage so you can get ready," she told
him.

   He nodded.  Two of Glennis' employees instantly materialized to lead him
to the dressing room.

   "As for everyone else, relax, enjoy a cocktail.  The main feature will
start shortly."

   The audience began to stir in their seats.  Glennis left the podium and
walked back to James.  She signalled one of her assistants, and the curtain
closed behind her.

   James was throwing a fit, going on and on, sounding rather vehement,
even though it was impossible to understand a word he was saying.

   "Well, what did you expect?" she asked him.  "I told you that you were
going to experience the life of a whore.  Did you think whores get by only
sucking off their clients?  Hardly.  Even if they don't *want* to sell
their bodies, someone will just end up taking it from them for free.  Like
you did.  That's just what happens to whores.  They get fucked.  And now
it's your turn."

   James thrashed and protested.

   "Now, now," she said.  "Try not to upset yourself so much.  kSometimes,
the only thing you can do is lie back, metaphorically speaking, of course,
and try to enjoy it.  Bradshaw is going to help you get ready."

   James wailed into his gag.

   "Try not to be so negative, James.  You're about to lose your virginity.
That's a big step in everyone's life.  It's a rite of passage, entree into
a whole new world.  After this, you'll be completely different in every
way."

   Bradshaw snapped on a pair of latex gloves.  James tried to pull away,
but there was very little give in the rope."

   "Hold still now," she said.

   Bradshaw lubed his fingers and tried to probe James' anus.

   "He's clenching," he told her.

   "Stop that, James.  It's not going to help.  You're going to get your
ass fucked today, one way or another.  Trust me, you don't want it to be
without lubrication."

   James looked downright stricken, but he must have realized it would be
worse not to relent.

   "That's better," Bradshaw said and began the preparations.

   James made complaining noises through the gag.

   "Oh, please," she said.  "That's nothing compared to having a cock
inside you.  You'll thank Bradshaw later for being thoughtful enough to
stretch you."

   James shook his head vehemently and tried to pull his hips away from
Bradshaw's hands.

   "James!" She grabbed him roughly by the balls.

   His scream was muffled by the gag.

   "Have you forgotten what happens if you're disobedient?  I think you
have, or you wouldn't be acting this way." She motioned to Corrine.  "Bring
me that portable video player."

   Corrine handed her the equipment.  "Here you are, ma'am."

   "Thank you."

   She turned it on.

   "Now, James, I want you to watch this, to refresh your memory."

   The screen flickered, and then an image materialized, quickly followed
by the sound of screaming.  A naked subject was bound to an examining
table. The table was positioned so that the man was in a sitting position,
able to see the procedure about to be performed on him.  His arms were
restrained, and his legs were raised and spread, secured in stirrups, to
give easy access to his genitals.  A masked, gowned doctor stood in the v
formed by his legs.  A nurse assisted him.

   "Scalpel," the doctor said.

   "No!" the subject screamed.

   "Scalpel, doctor." The nurse handed him the instrument.

   "I'm making an incision down the center of the scrotum," the doctor
explained.

   "No!  Agggh!  I can feel it.  Fuck, I feel you cutting me.  AAAAAGH!"

   The subject whipped his head from side to side and desperately tried to
free his bound hands.  His lower body, however, remained perfectly still as
the doctor worked.

   "We use a muscle paralyzer when we perform castrations," Glennis
explained to James.  "The patient can't move from the waist down, but he
feels everything."

   "I'm pulling the left testicle out through the incision," the doctor
said on the tape.

   "Oh, God.  Oh, God!" the subject sobbed.

   "I'm tying off the cord, to restrict the flow of blood," the doctor
said.

   "Stop!  STOP!" the subject begged.  "Don't cut my balls off.  God! 
Please!"

   "I'm ready to remove the testicle."

   "Yes, doctor." The nurse positioned a basin beneath the scrotum.

   "No!  NOOOO!" the subject cried.

   The doctor severed the cord, and the testicle fell into the basin with a
soft plop.  The subject's face turned pale as he watched.  His eyes went
glassy, and then he passed out.

   "Nurse, administer the smelling salts," the doctor instructed.

   "Yes, doctor."

   She broke a capsule and held it under the subject's nose.  He started to
moan.  A instant later, his eyes opened, and he looked around in confusion.
Then realization hit him, and he began to cry.

   "Oh, no.  No.  God.  Please!" He sobbed brokenly.

   "Now, for the right testicle.  I'm pulling it out through the
incision--"

   Glennis hit the stop button and returned the video player to Corrine.

   "I think you get the point," she said to James.

   He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror, his throat muscles
clenching and unclenching.

   "If you vomit while you're wearing that gag, you'll choke to death," she
warned him.  "And there's no reason to get so upset.  It didn't happen to
you.  If you behave yourself, it never will."

   She grabbed his balls and twisted.  He yelped through the gag.

   "But if you embarrass me," she told him.  "I'll cut them off myself. 
Got it?"

   He nodded vigorously.

   "Good," she said.  "I'm glad to see you're being so reasonable.  Now,
I'm going to go check on your owner.  See if he's ready to claim what
belongs to him." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.  "It won't
be long now, my sweet.  Soon you'll be a real whore, and I'll be so proud."

   He made desperate little sounds of protest.

   "Finish getting him ready," she told Bradshaw.  "I'll be back in a few
minutes."

   "Yes, madam."

   She left James with Bradshaw and went to the dressing room.  She knocked
at the door and went in.  Carter was already undressed and pulling on a
robe.

   "I want to talk you about James-- Whoa!" She stopped short, eying his
erection.  "You've made some improvements."

   Carter laughed.  "Plastic surgery's not just for you gals any more,
Glennis.  And raping cops is a lot more fun when you know they *really*
feel it."

   "Anything for the obsession, huh?"

   He grinned.  "Everybody needs a hobby."

   "I want you to do a good job of this for me."

   "When have I not?"

   "I'm serious here.  I want this to be memorable.  I want it to be
completely traumatic and to last a very, *very* long time."

   "So do I.  Why do you think I'm wearing this?" He fingered the cock ring
at the base of his penis.

   "That reminds me.  From now on in his training, he's not allowed to have
his cock touched.  Don't get caught up in the moment and start jerking him
off."

   "Not a problem.  All I'm interested in is fucking him, good and hard and
long.  Has he had anything in his ass before?"

   "Only a finger, for medical purposes."

   "Good.  That means it's going to hurt like a mother.  That'll be fun."

   "I want you to make sure he comes, Carter, just from getting fucked. 
It's important to my future plans for him."

   Carter laughed.  "Have you taken a good look at his balls, Glennie? 
When was the last time you let him come?  Weeks ago?  And all that viagra
shit you've been shoving up his butt?  Do you know what that's done to his
prostate?  I work it with my dick, and he'll go off like a rocket.  Who
knows how many times.  You have nothing to worry about."

   "If it's all right with you, I'd prefer to take his gag off.  It makes a
better video."

   "Suits me.  There's nothing I enjoy more than hearing a man cry when I
bust his ass open and turn him into a pussy."

   "This project is very special to me.  I want everything to go right.  I
want him to remember this for a long, long time."

   "Sweetheart, you know I always take fucking cops very seriously.  Trust
me, he's never going to forget who took his cherry or how humiliated he was
that he got off on it, repeatedly, in front of a whole auditorium full of
cheering perverts.  When I'm finished with him, his sexual identity will be
totally fucked up, just the way you want it to be."

   Glennis studied him for a moment and then nodded, satisfied that they
understood each other.  "Good.  Then I'll let you finish getting ready."

   She started to go, but he reached for her arm.  "Hey, Glennie, you know
I do perform better with a little added incentive, right?"

   "Oh, really?  Such as?"

   He pulled her closer.  "I think you know," he whispered in her ear. 
"How about it, sweetheart?  For old times sake."

   She twined her arms around his neck seductively.  "Why don't we just see
what kind of show you put on for me, hmm?  If it's a really, *really* good
video, maybe we can watch it together later tonight."

   His arms tightened around her waist.  "Oooh, I'm feeling inspired
already."

   She laughed and pulled away.  "Save it for James, baby.  We'll talk
about the rest later."

   "Tease," he called after her.

   "Hey, it keeps you focused.  Have fun out there."

   He smiled.  "You know I will."

   She left him and went back to check on James.  Bradshaw had finished
preparing him, and the video cameras had been set up.

   "Take his gag off," she instructed Bradshaw.  And then to James, she
said, "Don't you dare scream.  And that's an order.  Understand?"

   He nodded, his eyes filled with misery.  Bradshaw removed the gag.

   "Please," James begged, quietly.

   "But you earned this, baby.  I can't take it away from now.  That
wouldn't be right."

   "You said you wouldn't make me do this anymore," he said, on the verge
of tears.

   "No, baby.  You have to start listening more closely.  What I said was I
not going to make you suck cocks any more in order to be allowed to come.
And that's true."

   He shook his head desperately.  "Don't let him do this to me.  Please.
God.  I'm not a fag.  I don't *do* this."

   She nodded.  "I know.  And honestly?  That's the appeal."

   "What kind of a person are you?"

   She considered it a moment.  "I guess, more than anything else, I'm
someone who doesn't forget." And then she smiled.  "And now you won't ever
forget, either."

   "Don't.  Please.  Please!"

   Carter crossed the stage to join them.  "Are we ready?"

   "No!" James protested.

   "Whenever you are," Glennis told him.

   "Let's do it then," Carter said.

   "Make it good," she told him softly.

   He smiled, in that mischievous way of his that said she had nothing to
worry about.

   "You're in for something special," she told James.  "Try and enjoy it.
And don't forget about the little video I showed you earlier.  You wouldn't
want to add injury to insult, now would you?"

   James' mouth trembled.  She smiled as she walked away and left him to
the fate he'd sealed for himself.

   She settled into her seat and watched as the curtain opened.  James was
positioned exactly as he had been before, only without the gag.  He was
still painfully erect.  Carter stood to the side and a little behind him,
clad only in a robe, his ample erection obvious beneath it.  The video
cameras sent images to the two large, flat-screen televisions above the
stage, so the audience could see the action from every angle.

   James whimpered pitifully as he waited.  Carter stood there without
making a move for what felt like an eternity.  That was something Glennis
had always admired about him.  He wasn't crude.  He understood the value of
timing, the power of dread.  He let James take in his nearness, feel his
heat, live in terror of what he might do next.

   When he did move, it was only to put his hand on James' shoulder.  James
screamed and practically leaped out of his skin anyway.  Carter smiled at
that.  Glennis knew he loved nothing better than to have someone fear him
before he'd even done anything to them.  She watched with complete
fascination as he moved his hand slowly down James' back, inch by agonizing
inch.  Everyone else in the auditorium was just as mesmerized, and they all
went completely still as they looked on.  The only sound in the room came
from James, soft little mewls of distress.  As Carter moved his hand
inexorably closer to its target, the sounds grew louder and more anguished.

   When he did finally make his way down to James' ass, he took his time
there, too.  He stroked the skin and flirted with the little dimple at the
top of the cleft.  He cupped the cheeks and fondled them, squeezing them
together and then pulling apart.  James would wail "no!" whenever Carter
spread his cheeks open.  The camera operator would zoom in on his anus, to
give the audience a nice close-up shot.

   Finally, Carter grew impatient and let his robe fall to the floor.  He
always preferred to fuck in the nude.  He pried James' cheeks as far apart
as he could and lined up his cock.  Pitiful animal sounds of fear streamed
out of James.  Carter paused there for a moment, drawing out James'
anguished anticipation.  And then he began to push.

   Of course James resisted.  Glennis had known he would.  Even though it
would only make the penetration more painful when it did finally occur. 
Still, there was no way James was going to give up his manhood without a
fight.  That's what made it fun.

   And Glennis had to give him credit.  It was an epic battle of wills. 
James grunted and gasped and squeezed his eyes tightly shut in
concentration.  Carter gripped his hips and pushed hard, putting his back
into the effort.  It was raw and primal.  It reminded Glennis of something
you might see on an episode of Wild Kingdom, the age-old battle of male
animals, the instinctual contest to see who would dominate and who would be
subjugated.

   "AGGGGH!" James wailed as he lost the struggle.  "NOOO!"

   To Glennis, there was no sound quite like the anguished outrage of a man
being forcibly penetrated for the first time.  And she'd never seen a
portrait of misery as profound as the expression on James' face.  It was
clear that the physical pain of having his sphincter wrenched open was
nothing compared to the agony of having his sense of manhood smashed to
bits, his peace of mind destroyed forever.

   Glennis was so glad that he finally understood what that felt like.

   Carter grunted in triumph and started working his way further inside. 
James balanced precariously on his tiptoes, and the awkward position made
it impossible for him to get any purchase, impossible to resist.  The
camera man captured a great shot of Carter's dick as it slowly disappeared
into James' body.  With every advance of the cock inside him, James' face
registered shocked disbelief that this could possibly be happening to him.
When Carter's dick was all the way inside and his balls pressed firmly
against his ass, James cried out, a broken, defeated sound, more like
something you'd hear from a mistreated child than from a big, strong
policeman.

   And then Carter began to move.  The sound of his balls slapping against
James' ass echoed throughout the room.  And that lit an electric spark of
excitement in the crowd, as if everyone knew this was something special,
something they weren't likely ever to see again, not matter how many men
they had the pleasure to witness being raped.

   "No!  No!" James wailed, now truly hysterical.

   And Glennis smiled, because she understood his reaction so well.  It had
been one kind of nightmare to have a dick inside him.  But it was hell of
another magnitude to feel that dick sliding in and out of his body, to know
that he was being fucked.  That a *man* was fucking him, and he was
powerless to stop it.  Glennis licked her lips.  It was so delicious.

   Carter gripped James' hips, leaving marks, as he viciously pounded into
him.

   "Uuuunh!  Uuuuuhn!  Uuuuuhn!" The same breathless sound was forced out
of James with every cruel thrust.

   Glennis could tell from the look on Carter's face that he was focused on
punishing James as brutally as he could.  She might have been annoyed by
that after his promise to bring James off, but then again, he was putting
on one of the best performances she had ever seen.  It gave her the
patience she might not ordinarily have had.

   And happily, Carter did not let her down.  After more punishment than
Glennis would have thought James could take, after Carter had broken him
down completely, after James was sobbing and begging for mercy in a
constant flood of pitiful little noises, Carter changed the angle of
penetration, slowed down his thrusts, made each stroke long and deep.

   Gradually, the sounds streaming out of James began slowly to change. 
The wails became less shrill.  Some of the tension left James' body.  The
wails turned into groans.  His cock twitched and got harder.  And then the
groans became lower and throatier, until they were indistinguishable from
moans of pleasure.

   This, finally, was what Glennis had been waiting for.  She perched on
the edge of her seat, her attention glued to every movement, every sound.

   Carter moved rhythmically, almost seductively.  James moaned louder. 
She watched him sway on his feet, and then his hips began to move, pushing
back against Carter, taking his dick deeper, fucking him back.  He grew
more frenzied, until his body seized and he climaxed, long, stringy ribbons
of come arcing through the air.

   Everyone in the audience gasped in delighted surprise in the same
instant.  James stared down at his cock as if it were something foreign to
him, something that had betrayed him.  And then, his face warmed with
shame. He'd had an orgasm from being raped, and there were over a hundred
witnesses to that fact, not to mention a video record.

   It was one of the most exquisite moments of Glennis' life.

   She would have been satisfied ifthat were the end of it.  But Carter had
other plans.  He kept up the stimulation, in and out, in and out, hitting
James' prostate with every stroke, if the rapidity with which his cock
began to fill again was any indication.  Soon enough, he was fully erect
once more, gasping, his mouth trembling, with lust now, rather than fear.
He moaned like the whore Glennis had always known he could be and
vigorously rocked back on Carter's cock.  It wasn't too long before he came
again.

   His orgasm took everything out of him.  He hung heavily from the ropes,
barely able to hold up his own weight.  His head sagged, and he clearly
believed it was over.  So did everyone in the audience.  So did Glennis,
for that matter.  But Carter began to thrust again.

   "Uuuuuhn!" James groaned in exhaustion.

   And yet, he still couldn't help his body's reaction, supercharged as it
was by the drug he'd been given.  Carter worked him intently, and he got
hard yet again.

   "Please!" he begged.

   Clearly, he wanted to come, one last time, and have it over with.  But
Carter was coy.  He would bring James to the edge and then back off.  He
did it over and again.  Glennis was frankly amazed by his stamina.  She
wondered what other kinds of medical procedures he'd undergone to manage
such a feat.

   James tried to thrust back to get the stimulation he needed, but Carter
held his hips firmly and controlled his movement.

   "Come on!" James urged.

   But Carter continued to tease him.

   "Let me *come*!" James yelled.

   Carter responded by slowing down his strokes even more.

   James' voice grew whiny and wheedling.  "I need to co-o-ome!"

   Carter didn't answer, and he didn't give James what he wanted, either.
And finally Glennis understood what he was doing.  It was a gift, just for
her.

   "Do it.  God.  Just *do* it."

   James was growing more urgent.  His cock was a desperate looking purple.

   But Carter refused to give him the satisfaction he craved.

   "FUCK ME!" James finally screamed at the top of his lung.  "GOD, JUST
FUCK ME ALREADY!"

   Carter smiled at her, and Glennis felt the tingle all over her body. 
Then Carter honored James' wishes and began to fuck him hard.

   "Yeah!  Yeah!  Yeah.  Fuck me.  Fuck me," James chanted, meeting every
stroke with a backward thrust of his own hips.

   Astonishingly, he came for the third time.  Carter continued to fuck,
wildly, changing the angle to inflict pain once more.

   "Aaaaagh!  Aaaaagh!" James yelled out.

   Carter grew increasingly frenzied, until he froze and then lurched
forward one last time, pushing as deeply as he could into James' body. 
James' face showed the most profound disbelief as Carter pumped him full of
come.  This was always Glennis' favorite part, the moment she counted as
the true defloration, even more so than the initial penetration, the moment
when a man discovered what it felt like to have semen spurting inside him.
The shock on James' face was quickly followed by horror, disgust,
self-loathing.

   And Glennis let out her breath.  Finally, she had what she wanted.

   Carter pulled out, none too gently.  James howled in pain.  A trickle of
blood and a stream of come ran down his legs.  This broke the spell of
silence.  The audience erupted into wild cheering.  Carter pulled his robe
back on, bowed magnanimously and strolled off the stage while James wept.

   Glennis got up and went to instruct her staff.

   "Let him down," she told Corrine.  "Gently."

   Corrine unfastened the rope and slowly began to lower it.  Bradshaw
helped hold James up James since he was not very steady on his feet.  After
Corrine finished with the rope, she unfastened the cuffs from around James'
wrists and took them off.  Bradshaw let him go.  James sank to the floor,
curled into a fetal position and sobbed like a child.

   "What should we do with him?" Bradshaw asked.

   "Leave him here," she said.  "The guests will enjoy seeing this, too. 
And it will give James time to think about what happened here on this
stage. What he became.  How much he enjoyed it.  How many more times he's
going to do this in the future."

   James' shoulders shook with the force of his grief.

   Glennis left him huddled there and went back to her guests.  She was the
hostess, after all.

   ***

   Glennis knew better than to get involved with Carter again.  Of course,
she did.  But there was just something about him.  There always had been.

   Maybe it was the way he always asked so sweetly to be allowed into her
bed.  Or that he knew exactly how she liked to be touched.  Or that he
would kiss her breasts just so and find that place on her neck that drove
her completely crazy and whisper all the right things in her ear.  Maybe it
was that he never tried to dominate her in bed.  He always let her ride him
in her own rhythm, kissing her hungrily as she moved over him, his hand
insinuating itself between their bodies, stroking her hotly, making her
tremble.

   Or maybe it was just that he'd put on such a good show with James that
she really did want to reward him.

   In the end, it didn't really matter why.  It didn't even matter that she
should have known better.  She had wanted him, and she was never one to
deny herself.

   She gripped his shoulders and began moving faster, harder.  He stared up
at her, and the look in his eyes-- well, she couldn't look away.  And that
was what made Carter so dangerous.  He was the only man she ever made love
with.  All the rest was either just sex or business.  It was no wonder she
could never stay with him, no matter how well things seemed to be going. 
This ridiculous entanglement with him turned her into-- well, a big sap, to
be honest.  Her!  A Fury.  It was intolerable.  Really.

   Except...

   Well, it was also very, *very* good.  There was no pleasure quite like
having him inside her, his hands stroking and arousing her, knowing that he
was the only one who really saw her, who truly understood what she was.

   "Glennis," he moaned with need.

   She loved that she could make him sound like that.  She loved that he
never called her by that ridiculous nickname while they were making love,
always by her given name.  She adored the way her name sounded when he was
breathy and wild with desire for her.

   She was close to coming again.  He'd already brought her to orgasm three
times.  She had been a little worried at first about his recent
augmentation and how it might affect their sex life.  Frankly, he was
pretty monstrous, and she hadn't known if it would be too much, if it would
be painful.  Happily, though, it was just enough to enhance their
lovemaking, not detract from it.  In fact, she couldn't remember when she'd
been so satisfied.

   She caressed his face, brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him.
His clear gray eyes were serious, passionate, without the least trace of
his usual irony.  He was always different in bed, and for some reason that
always moved her.  She was certain he never stopped being sarcastic for
anyone else.

   He buried his face between her breasts and whispered against her skin,
"I love you."

   He always said that when they made love, although he never mentioned it
any other time.  Still, it was more than *she* had ever been able to
manage, with anyone.

   He began doing a little trick with his fingers, his special move.  It
sent sparks from her pussy all the way up her spine, the way it always did.

   "Oh, God!" she gasped.

   "Come for me, baby," he said.

   She threw her head back and did just that, waves of hot pleasure rocking
her body.  She felt him surging beneath her, his cock swelling inside her,
and despite the condom separating them, she knew that he, too, was
climaxing.

   When she regained her senses, she carefully rolled off him, and he
disposed of the condom.  He collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily.  She
curled up against his back and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

   "You know I don't actually expect you to pay for James," she told him.

   Carter rolled over to face her.  "That's sweet, Glennie," he said.  "But
keep the money.  Really.  Save some missing and exploited children on me."

   She smiled.  "I'm sure that's at the top of the list of things you care
about."

   "I care," he insisted.

   "Uh-huh," she said and started laughing.

   He pinched her nipple.  "I do, so don't be a bitch."

   "I believe you.  Really." She laughed so hard she was out of breath.

   "I don't fuck kids, Glennis.  I'm not one of those."

   His tone was serious, and he was obviously offended.  Her amusement
dissolved.

   "I know.  I know.  I'm sorry.  Don't get mad.  Please."

   "I realize that I can be one mean son of a bitch when I'm working on a
project.  But I *never* hurt innocent people."

   "I *know* that, Carter.  God.  When did my opinion start mattering so
much, anyway?"

   He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.  "Your
opinion has *always* mattered to me."

   She sighed heavily and let her head fall against his shoulder.  "No
wonder we never make it.  One night, and we're already jumping to the wrong
conclusions."

   "Maybe the trick is to stay together for *more* than one night.  See if
things improve with age."

   She bit him playfully on the shoulder.  "Don't be a wise ass."

   He laughed.  "But you love me that way."

   "You sound rather sure of yourself."

   "Oh, I am.  About this anyway."

   "I don't know why I put up with you."

   "And yet you continue to.  Hence my cocky sense of confidence." He
grinned, that mischievous smile of his that always meant she was losing the
battle.

   She sighed heavily.  "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you."

   "We could play twenty questions," he suggested.

   "Oh, Carter, please."

   "Seriously."

   She rolled her eyes.  "Why not a game of charades?"

   "I get to go first."

   "I never agreed to this."

   "But you know you will.  I'll wear you down eventually.  So why not just
give in graciously?  I know you don't do it that often, but you're really
quite sexy when you do."

   "God.  You are just incorrigible.  I never should have slept with you."

   "Too late.  Now for my question.  Why is this thing with James so
personal?"

   She snorted with disdain.  "That's not how you play twenty questions."

   "Sure, it is."

   "No, it's *not*."

   "So tell me anyway."

   "What?"

   "Why is it so personal with him?"

   "Who?"

   Carter sighed.  "You *know* who."

   "It's not personal.  It's business.  You should know that better than
anyone."

   "Yes, I do know.  I know *you*.  So don't try to bullshit me."

   She crossed her arms over her chest, really beginning to regret letting
her needs overrule her better judgment.

   "All right," she conceded.  "So there's some history there.  So what?"

   "So what, indeed."

   "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

   "It means you could tell me what he did to you."

   "But then I'd have to kill you," she said teasingly, trying to distract
him, trying to get him to quit asking questions she had no intention of
answering.

   "I wish you wouldn't do that."

   "What?"

   "Or that."

   She sighed heavily.  "It's not like you've ever confided in me, either.
You've never told me why you get off on raping cops so much."

   "Mmm.  That's true.  Because you don't care."

   "How do you know that?"

   He smiled at her patiently, the way he might treat a child, and for a
moment, she really thought she was going to have to strangle him.

   "Because I know you, baby," he said.  "History is not your favorite
subject.  Unless, of course, it has to do with some project you're working
on."

   "Maybe you don't know me quite as well as you think," she said.

   He scooted his body into a sitting position, resting his back against
the headboard.  "So are you saying you *do* want to hear about it?"

   "Do *you* want to tell me while we're fighting?"

   He grinned.  "We're *always* fighting, baby."

   She rubbed her hands over her face, feeling tired, the high from her
orgasms completely gone now.

   "I want you to tell me," she finally said.  "As long as you won't have
to kill me afterwards."

   He smiled.  "I won't have to kill you," he said.

   She looked him in the eye.  She couldn't help feeling she owed him that.
"So what happened?" she asked.

   He took a deep breath.  "Well-- I guess the first thing I should say is
that Carter is not my real name."

   "Oh?"

   "I stopped using my real name a long time ago.  Because it also happens
to be the name of one of the largest organized crime families in the
country."

   "You're in the mob?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

   "Actually, not.  That's the irony of the story.  My father got killed
when I was just a kid, a hit by a rival group, so my grandfather decided to
keep me out of the family business altogether.  I never had anything to do
with the things my grandfather was involved in.  And they *knew* that."

   "Who?"

   "The cops.  I was seventeen, and they were really desperate to get
something on my grandfather.  So they pulled me over on some bullshit
traffic violation and hauled me downtown.  Booked me, threw me into lockup.
To try to force information out of the old man."

   "Assholes."

   "Yeah." He laughed humorlessly.  "Then some of them thought it would be
a real kick if they spread the word, the *lie*, that I got busted for
molesting kids.  They arranged it so the paperwork on my case went missing.
My grandfather wasn't able to get me out until the next day."

   "Oh, God, Carter."

   "They even watched, the bastards.  They stood on the other side of the
bars and laughed and cheered while every con in there took his turn.  When
they knew good and well I hadn't done anything."

   "I'm so sorry."

   "It's okay.  I took care of them later, the ones who arranged it and the
ones who watched."

   "I should hope so."

   "They're the only ones I didn't let go afterwards.  They're all in the
Middle East now, serving as eunuchs to some Sultan or the other."

   "Did you cut them yourself?"

   He nodded grimly.  "That was satisfying.  To first take their balls and
then their cherries."

   "I really am so sorry," she said.

   He shrugged.  "You get over it.  You get on with life."

   "I guess."

   "You're frowning," he noted.

   "I--"

   But there wasn't anything to say.  She hugged him, hard.

   "Hey," he said, stroking her hair.  "Hey, it's all right."

   "No, it's not," she said, tightening her grip on him.

   He laughed softly.

   "What could possibly be funny?" she asked.

   "No.  Not funny.  It's just-- I guess I was wrong.  I guess you do care
after all."

   "I hope you're not going to be a jerk about it," she said against his
cheek.

   "I won't be.  I promise."

   "Good." She held him a moment longer, then let him go and settled onto
the bed beside him.

   "I really am over it," he told her.

   "Then why are still taking revenge on cops?"

   He shook his head.  "I don't know exactly.  I guess I just like giving
bad cops what they've got coming.  The power of it.  The righteousness. 
You know how that is."

   She nodded.  She knew very well.

   "After I bust their asses, I always let them go," he said.  "Not because
I'm merciful.  But so I can watch what happens next.  Watch them try to
pretend like nothing's wrong because they're too ashamed to admit they let
down their guard and got butt fucked against their will.  They always try
to get on with life like everything's normal, only they can't, because
they're not really men any more, not the way they see things.  It doesn't
take long for them to self-destruct.  And I enjoy that.  I really enjoy
watching them lose everything, including their last shred of self-respect.
It's like a calling I have or something."

   "I know exactly what you mean."

   He smiled.  "I know you do.  That's why we fit together so well.  I have
the feeling we're a lot alike."

   She froze, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.  He was very clever. 
She couldn't be certain he hadn't made his little confession on purpose, to
trick her into admitting something she had no intention of admitting, to
him or anyone else, now or ever.

   "Yes, well.  We do have similar interests and tastes," she said, in her
most impersonal tone.

   She crawled over him and got up from the bed.  She reached for her robe,
slid into it and pulled the belt tightly around her waist.

   "What just happened here?" Carter asked, sounding both confused and
disappointed.

   "Nothing.  I've just got a busy day ahead of me tomorrow."

   "So that's it, huh?  That's all you can handle.  Ten minutes of
intimacy."

   "Don't, Carter.  I'm not in the mood."

   "I'll never know how you do it, how you can just turn off like that."

   "Maybe you should go."

   "Because you need to rest up for tomorrow.  We wouldn't want you to be
tired for all those big plans you have for James."

   She tightened her jaw.  She hated hearing the sarcasm back in his voice.

   "It's my job," she said.  "It's important to me.  You know that."

   "So what *is* the next step?"

   She sighed.  "I don't see the point--"

   "I'm curious," he said.  "Humor me."

   "I convince him he wanted and even enjoyed everything that just happened
to him.  And then we get him started turning tricks."

   "Well, that does sound like fun."

   "It's just business as usual," she said, defensively.

   They both went silent.  It was tense and awkward.

   Finally, Carter said in a soft, conciliatory voice, "I didn't mean to
make you uncomfortable."

   "You didn't."

   He shook his head.  "I wonder when you're going to learn you can't lie
to me."

   "And I wonder when you're going to learn that you don't know me better
than I know myself."

   He looked at her for a moment, an expression on his face she didn't know
how to interpret.  "Well, I suppose I'll get dressed and see myself out."
He gathered up his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

   At the door, he turned back to her.  "Thanks for the wonderful evening,"
he said.

   "Shouldn't you really be thanking James?" she asked.

   He shook his head.  "No.  He was just a means to an end.  And I think
you know that."

   He closed the door, and a moment later, she heard the water running in
the sink.  She felt more sad than she could remember, and she didn't even
have the luxury of blaming it on Carter.  After all, she really should have
known better.

   ***

   The next morning, Glennis pulled herself together and resolved never,
ever to think about Carter again.  He'd gone off-- wherever he went when he
wasn't with her, and she really had more pressing matters to focus on. 
James was at the crucial juncture of his training.  The next few days would
make all the difference.  She had to be on top of her game.

   From Glennis' observations, newly deflowered subjects tended to follow
one of three predictable paths.  There were the "ragers," as she called
them--those who went into hyper-macho mode to try to compensate for their
humiliating violations.  These subjects threw things, cursed, made threats,
tried to attack their trainers.  Then there were the "avoiders." They
refused to accept the reality of the situation and denied to themselves and
everyone else that they'd been on the receiving end of a cock, despite the
video evidence.  Finally, there were the "bawlers," the ones who just
curled up and sobbed broken-heartedly.

   It surprised her that James fell into this last category, but then
perhaps she had given him too much credit in the past.

   She and Bradshaw left him to his weeping in one of the holding areas
they used for such cases.  He was unbound and untreated with the drug.  He
had entered the stage in his training when forced erections were no longer
necessary or even advantageous.  And sex was the last thing on James' mind
after what he'd been through.  He stayed huddled in the corner of the room
for days, curled tightly into a ball while he cried.

   Perhaps his extreme distress had something to do with the fact that the
video of his humiliating public defloration played over and again on the
monitor in his cell, the volume cranked way up every time it reached the
part where James begged to have his ass fucked.  It was a small touch, but
an effective one, Glennis had found.

   After James had healed physically and had grown a little calmer
emotionally, she went to visit him.

   He had stopped crying, but he still lay in the corner, facing the wall,
listless and depressed.  She went over to him and knelt down.  He didn't
turn around.  She gently touched his shoulder.

   He jerked away.  "Don't you *dare* touch me!"

   "I'm sorry, James."

   He shook his head.  "No, you're not.  You enjoyed seeing me-- " He broke
off, a tremor in his voice.

   "I *am* sorry that you're so unhappy," she told him.

   "Why?  You arranged it.  You *sold* me.  You smiled the whole time he
was raping me."

   "Rape.  Hmm.  Is that what you think it was?"

   He flipped over to face her, his eyes glittering angrily.  "What the
hell kind of question is that?  *Of course* it was rape."

   She shrugged.  "I just remember how you begged to be fucked.  Not
because you were threatened or forced to.  But of your own volition.  How
many rape victims do you know who do that?"

   He flushed deeply.  "It wasn't like that.  You *know* that."

   "Wasn't it?

   "You tied me up."

   "Hmm."

   "I couldn't get away."

   "That's true."

   "I *didn't* want it."

   "Maybe not.  But let me pose a hypothetical for a moment.  Think back to
when you were on the police force.  Imagine that some man came to you
claiming to have been raped.  Suppose as you began investigating the
accusation you found that this person had willingly traded blow jobs to
obtain special favors.  That he put on a live sex show for an audience,
that he fingered himself in front of who knows how many people, showing
them all just how much he got off on anal stimulation."

   James looked as if he'd just been slapped in the face.

   Glennis continued.  "Suppose you discovered that during the alleged rape
this man agreed to be tied up and gagged.  That he allowed himself to be
prepared for penetration.  That he stayed hard the whole time he was being
fucked.  And despite all his protests about being forced, managed to come
three times during the course of the so-called assault.  That he even
demanded more, begged his alleged rapist to keep fucking him.  That he
wanted it harder and deeper and faster.  Hmm, James?  Would you have taken
such a charge seriously?  Or would you have thrown that person right out of
the police station?"

   James avoided her eyes.  "It doesn't mean anything," he insisted.

   "You don't think so?  You don't think it matters that you came on
another man's cock?"

   "*No*!"

   "Would you ever have imagined that was possible before the other night?"

   "No," he reluctantly admitted.

   "Then you've learned something about yourself.  I think that matters. 
Don't you?"

   "It doesn't mean I'm a faggot."

   "No," she agreed.  "But it does mean that you can find pleasure in the
use of your body by another man.  And that's good.  Because there are going
to be a lot of men who are going to use your body."

   He shook his head, tears coming to his eyes.  "No.  Please."

   "Remember when you said I was never going to let you go?  Well, you were
right, James.  You need to forget all about that other life, that other
person you used to be.  That's all gone forever now."

   "No!"

   "Yes," she said firmly.  "I bet you imagine people you used to know
finding out what you've been doing.  You picture their reactions and feel
humiliated.  But there's no need to torture yourself like that.  You're
here.  They're there.  And here, everyone *expects* you to act like a
whore, to suck cocks and get fucked.  Nothing could be more fitting as far
as we're concerned.  So you don't have to feel that we're judging you in
any way.  You don't have to feel ashamed of fulfilling your natural
function."

   "I don't want to get fucked ever again.  I'm not a fag.  I'm not."

   Tears streaked down his cheeks.  She wiped them away with her thumb. 
This time, he didn't pull away from her touch.

   "Ah, James.  You'll soon discover the same thing all women do when they
lose their virginity.  Once it's gone, it's gone.  The barn door's open. 
The chickens have flown the coop.  There's no point in trying to protect
your virtue now.  There's nothing left to save.  After you've had
intercourse once, there's really no reason not to have it again.  And it
does get easier and more pleasurable the more experience you have."

   "You keep saying that.  But I am *never* going to enjoy it."

   "But you already did."

   He shook his head frantically.  "No!"

   She sighed.  "Oh, all right.  Have it your way, James.  Enjoy it or not.
I really don't care.  The simple fact is that you *are* a whore now.  You
*will* turn tricks.  You *will* suck your customers' dicks.  You *will* get
fucked.  Now, you can choose to do it the hard way.  You can get your teeth
knocked out while you're trying to resist some horny john who has his heart
set on getting his cock down your throat.  You can get your ass torn open
the way you did the other night by clenching your muscles.  Hell, some
clients will even pay extra for an unwilling slut.  The end result for you
will be the same, either way.  You will suck.  You will get fucked. 
Period."

   "Why are you doing this to me?" he asked pathetically.

   She stroked his hair and looked deeply into his eyes.  "I told you
already.  To teach you a lesson."

   His lip trembled, and more tears fell as he mourned the irretrievable
loss of his manhood.

   "Oh, my poor, poor James.  I know it's hard.  I know it must seem so
cruel.  But you've been brainwashed as a man.  You think of everything in
terms of being on top or being on the bottom.  You think letting a man take
you is degrading.  But you completely miss the power and the pleasure of
it. Do you know how masterful you'll feel knowing you can make a man hard?
Do you have any idea what kind of joy there is in surrender?"

   The look on James' face told her that he didn't believe any such thing
was possible.

   "Oh, yes," she assured him.  "I know it's not the kind of sexual
pleasure you're used to.  But you will come to appreciate the feeling you
get from spreading your legs for a man, the exquisite vulnerability of
opening yourself up to someone else, of giving a man access to your most
tender, private places.  You'll find an odd kind of strength in lying back
and letting him climb on top of you and enter you.  You'll take pleasure in
his pleasure as he moves inside you.  You'll feel proud of the way you make
him moan, of the way you make him come."

   James continued to cry.

   "Ah, well," she said.  "You'll see for yourself soon enough.  Now,
James, you have a decision to make.  Whether you want to be cooperative or
do things the hard way.  So which is it going to be?"

   "I don't want this," he protested, his voice shaking.

   She caressed his cheek, wiping away more tears.  "I know.  But I already
explained to you that it's inevitable.  The only choice now is whether it's
going to be hard or easy.  Whether you're going to disappoint or please me.
And I think you know by now how much better it is to stay in my good
graces. If you willingly entertain clients, you'll have the same deal as
before.  After so many tricks, you'll be allowed your own pleasure.  Put up
a big fuss, and you forfeit that privilege."

   She could see the terrible indecision in his eyes.  If he agreed, how
could he hold on to even the least little shred of self-respect?  But if he
didn't, what terrible things would happen to him?

   "Tell me you're going to cooperate, James.  Please," she coaxed.  "I
don't want to see you hurt.  And I do want you to have pleasure.  I promise
to make it very, *very* good for you."

   He struggled to reach a decision.

   "All right," he finally said, so softly she could barely hear him. 
"Easy.  I want to do it the easy way."

   She beamed at him.  "I knew you wouldn't let me down.  I'm so happy! 
Now, there are just a few preparations we have to make before you get to
work."

   She took his arm and helped him to his feet.

   "Preparations?" he said, with alarm.

   "Don't panic.  It's nothing terrible.  I promise."

   She led him to the door.  Bradshaw was waiting outside.

   "May I assist you, madam?" he asked.

   "Yes, thank you.  Could you help me escort James to the salon?  He's
made his decision, and he's ready to begin work."

   "That's wonderful news," Bradshaw told James.  "Congratulations."

   James colored with embarrassment, but he didn't talk back.  Glennis
counted this as progress.  She and Bradshaw walked with him to the salon at
the end of the next corridor and led him inside.

   It was probably the most pleasant environment James had seen since he
had come to the compound.  The room was bright with sunshine, and the walls
were painted a cheerful yellow.  There were green plants hanging in baskets
from the ceiling.  It looked like an upscale hairdresser's shop.

   "Go lie down there," she told him, pointing to a table near the back of
the room.

   He did as he was told.  Glennis smiled to herself.  She was going to
enjoy the new "cooperative" James.

   "Now, the first step is to remove all your body hair," she told him.

   "What?!"

   "It's necessary, I'm afraid.  Customers like smooth skin, whether the
whore is male or female.  Dawn will be doing the waxing," she said,
pointing to her assistant who was testing the temperature of the wax.  "The
good news is that we've developed a special formula that inhibits the
production of new cells in the hair follicle.  So you'll only have to get
waxed this once.  Trust me.  Women all over the world would kill for this."

   James was clearly not comforted by this information.

   "Okay," she said.  "I'm going to leave you in Dawn's capable hands."

   Dawn stepped forward, pushing a tray with the hot wax and removal strips
on it over to the table.

   "Just try to relax," she told James.  "I'm going to start with one of
the less sensitive areas."

   She instructed him to hold out his arm, and she spread the wax in a
stripe from his shoulder down to his elbow.  She put the cloth strip over
it and pulled it away quickly, without warning.

   "Fuck!" James screamed.  "What the hell are you doing to me?"

   "The same thing women everywhere do to please men," Dawn answered,
without sympathy.

   She spread more wax from his elbow down to the back of his hand.

   "Aaagh!" James yelled again when she pulled the strip away.

   He continued to yell throughout the entire waxing, as Dawn denuded his
arms and legs, underarms, chest, belly, even his face.  When she was ready
to do the sensitive areas, she looked to Bradshaw for help.  He pulled out
the stirrups that were hidden in a compartment along the bottom of the
table.  Before James could resist, he had fastened his ankles into the
cuffs and spread his legs apart, exposing his genitals and anus.

   "No!" James bellowed, his face turning bright red.  "Don't you fucking
touch me down there!"

   Bradshaw held his upper body down while Dawn quickly slathered his pubic
hair with wax and removed it.

   "Aaaagh!" James screamed.  "No!"

   Glennis rolled her eyes as she watched the spectacle.  She wondered what
James thought she meant when she'd told him he was going to have *all* his
body hair removed.

   He protested even more vocally as Dawn prepared his balls with the wax.

   He thrashed his head back and forth and moaned, "I don't want to be bald
down there.  Please!"

   Dawn ignored him and ripped the hair from his scrotum.  James whimpered.
Glennis couldn't help smiling.  Dawn was nearly finished now.  She spread
the wax along his crack and around his hole.  When she pulled the strip
away, James was completely smooth.  He would never have hair on his body
again.

   Bradshaw released his legs from the stirrups.

   Dawn ran a hand appraisingly over his skin.  "Like velvet," she told
him. "You should thank me.  I really did a good job on you."

   James stared at her as if she were crazy.

   Dawn shrugged.  "Whatever."

   She collected the used strips and wheeled her tray away.

   Glennis went to James' side.  "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she
asked him.

   "I'm-- It's disgusting," he said, indignantly.

   "Did you ever want to be with a hairy whore, James?"

   "And it *hurt*," he insisted.

   "Oh, please.  Don't even *try* to complain to me about it."

   "What else are you going to do to me?" he wanted to know.

   "Just give you a little adornment."

   "What does that mean?"

   "Piercing," she said.

   "No way!" he said.

   "Way.  Now, you said you were going to cooperate.  Has that changed?  Do
you want to start doing things the hard way?"

   He swallowed hard.  "No.  I want it easy.  Please."

   "Good then.  All you have to do is behave yourself, and everything will
be fine.  Bradshaw is an expert at piercing.  He'll take good care of you."

   "My pleasure, madam," Bradshaw said.

   Bradshaw took out what looked like a pricing gun from a department
store.

   "What the hell is that?"

   "It's for piercing your ears.  It's easier and less painful than a
needle.  Hold still," Bradshaw told him.

   He lined up the tip of the instrument where he wanted the earring and
pressed the button.  The machine made a sharp clicking sound.  James
screamed.

   "Ow!" he complained.  "That hurts!"

   "James, don't be such a baby," Glennis told him.  "Little girls line up
in shopping malls to pay good money to have this done.  And they don't
whine and complain about how painful it is, either."

   Bradshaw put a second stud in the same ear.  James was too ashamed to
yell out again, but he did wince.  Bradshaw moved to the other ear and gave
him three piercings there.

   "These are starter studs," Bradshaw explained to him.  "In a few weeks
when the holes have healed, you'll be able to change your earrings."

   "We have some nice gold hoops picked out for you," Glennis said.

   "It'll be very attractive," Bradshaw said.

   James made a face.

   "Now for the other place," Bradshaw said.

   "What other place?" James asked, with alarm.

   Bradshaw pressed an ice cube against his nipple.

   "You'll need to hold very still for this," he told James.

   "No.  God.  No."

   "Don't fidget, James," Glennis warned him.

   "Please.  Not my nipples."

   "You should be grateful it's not your scrotum," Glennis said.  "That's
quite popular in some circles."

   "Don't move," Bradshaw told him.

   He pierced James' left nipple with a sterilized needle and quickly
inserted a gold hoop.  James gasped in pain.

   "They'll match your earrings," Glennis pointed out, trying to cheer him
up.

   "Now, stay still while I do the other one," Bradshaw told him.

   James whimpered while Bradshaw completed his work.

   "There," Glennis said.  "Doesn't that look nice."

   "Very becoming," Bradshaw agreed.

   James looked down at his red and swollen nipples with the gold hoops
threaded through them.  A stray tear slid down his cheek.

   "Now, now," Glennis said.  "Don't be so unhappy.  You'll get used to it.
I promise.  And the piercing will make your nipples more responsive. 
You'll enjoy that.  You'll see."

   "Tell me that's all," James said, pitifully.

   "Well--" she said.

   "What now?"

   "Just one more thing.  You can get up for this."

   James slid off the table.  He looked relieved to be allowed to stand. 
Bradshaw opened one of the drawers in the cabinet and removed the item they
would need.

   "What's that?" James asked, suspiciously eying the leather straps.

   "It's a chastity belt," she said.

   "What the hell?"

   "You don't think your customers will be interested in your erection, do
you?  Hardly.  They never care about the whore's pleasure.  Some of them
may even like to pretend you're a woman.  We can't have you getting hard
and ruining the illusion.  And since we know you are likely to get an
erection while you're being fucked, we can't take any chances."

   "Hey!  I did *not* get hard from being-- you know.  It was that damned
drug you gave me."

   "And that's the good news.  From now on, no more drug."

   It took James a moment to process that.  "Really?" he said,
disbelievingly.

   "Really," she assured him.

   Of course, she didn't bother to mention that his prostate had already
absorbed enough of the drug that it was permanently sensitized.  He would
start to get hard any time he was fucked.  And the chastity belt would make
that quite painful.

   "Now, I want you to hold still while Bradshaw puts it on you," she told
him.

   It was really quite a simple concept.  The belt forced the penis down
and kept it there.  The control was so absolute that James almost appeared
to have no penis at all.  An erection was absolutely impossible while
wearing it.  The belt did leave the scrotum accessible, since many clients
enjoyed abusing a whore's balls.  Leather straps kept the belt anchored
firmly in place and accentuated James' ass cheeks.  There was a small,
strong padlock securing it, so it could not be removed without a key.

   "Shit!" James said, as Bradshaw finished fastening the belt in place.

   "Now there are a few things you'll need to know.  The belt is designed
to be worn continuously.  It will only come off when one of your trainers
is washing you or when you're allowed to come.  You can use the bathroom as
usual while wearing it, but you will have to urinate sitting down."

   James groaned.  For many men, Glennis realized, this was the final
indignity.  Of course, she knew, even if James didn't, that it was only one
of many indignities awaiting him.

   "Finally--and this is going to be hard to accept, I know--you will no
longer be allowed to have your cock touched."

   "But you said--" James started to protest.

   She waved her hand.  "I said you'd be allowed to come.  And you will be.
But from anal stimulation only."

   James colored.  "You mean--"

   "When you've earned your reward, you'll be allowed to fuck yourself with
a dildo until you reach orgasm."

   "That's-- How can you--"

   "I know it's difficult to accept.  A paradigm shift always is.  But you
have to start thinking about your body differently.  This is your sex now."
She rested her hand on his ass.  "The source of your pleasure.  Your cock
is nothing more than a biological necessity from now on.  After a while,
you won't even think about it any more.  It will have no more special
meaning to you than your elbow or your knee."

   He shook his head.  "That's never going to happen.  I'm not going to let
you turn me into some-- some *pussy*!"

   "Don't say that so disrespectfully, James.  As a woman, I just might
take offense.  Now, there's only one more accessory you'll need.  Bradshaw,
do you have the boots ready?"

   "Yes, madam.  Here they are."

   He held them out to her.

   "Go sit down and put these on, James," she told him.

   "You've got to be kidding."

   "They complete the look," she said.

   James sighed, but he did as she asked.  After allowing his nipples to be
pierced and his cock to be caged, it would have been silly to risk her
disapproval over something as small as a pair of shoes.

   He pulled them on and zipped them up.  They had been specially made
based on her instructions and a quick sketch she'd drawn.  The boots were
sleek, shiny black leather, with a blocky, two-inch heel.  They hugged
James' legs and came all the way up to mid-thigh.  She had gotten the idea
from watching "Pretty Woman." It was the kind of footwear that practically
screamed "prostitute."

   "Don't be shy, James.  Model them for us," she said.

   James blushed again, but he didn't argue with her.  He got to his feet
and lurched forward unsteadily, the heels giving him trouble.

   "Take your time," she told him.  "You just need some practice."

   It was always a question, how to outfit a whore.  She had considered
leaving him naked except for the chastity belt.  She knew other people
would have dressed him up in women's lingerie.  But she didn't want to
spoil his masculinity.  That was the thrill for her, seeing him degraded in
all his maleness.  The boots were the perfect touch, because they made him
seem even more exposed and vulnerable than if he were wearing nothing at
all.  At the same time, though, he still looked like a man.

   A man who was a shameless slut.

   She smiled.  "Very nice."

   ***

   The following day, James began his life as a whore.  Bradshaw, always
inventive, had him work from a swing, so his lack of experience and
enthusiasm would be less obvious.  It also added to his sense of being out
of control of his body, something every whore had to get used to.  Bradshaw
drummed up James' first customers from among ex-cons he'd
arrested--pornographers, drug dealers, pimps--all kinds of lowlife
criminals.  As Bradshaw said, it would almost be like old times for James.

   The swing could be positioned in various ways to give customers easy
access to James' mouth and ass.  Sometimes, he was on his stomach, his butt
in the air, his legs trapped in the straps, his shoulders held in place,
making it impossible for him to move from the humiliating pose or to turn
around to see who was using him.  Other times, he was on his back, his legs
hoisted and spread wide, leaving him splayed and vulnerable, at the mercy
of his customers, with no choice but to watch as men he'd sent to prison
vigorously violated him.

   The clients got to pick which position they preferred.  Needless to say,
the ex-cons enjoyed themselves a great deal more than James did.

   Glennis watched from the observation room.  James was currently on his
stomach.  He had already entertained five customers and was in the middle
of servicing his sixth, the last of the day.  The john was a penny-ante
criminal, involved in every sort of low-level hustle imaginable, including
trafficking in pornography.  That was how he had run up against James and
ended up in prison.  He had served eight months in the maximum security
penitentiary, where things apparently had not gone too easily for him.  He
had only been free a few days when Bradshaw tracked him down.  As Glennis
watched him using James, it was clear to her that he relished the chance to
do to his arresting officer the same things that had been done to him in
prison.

   "Oh, God," he moaned, as he ravaged James' ass, using the straps of the
swing for leverage.  "I'm fucking this cop's butt.  I can't believe I'm
fucking a goddamned cop up the butt."

   Glennis couldn't help smiling.  They all said the same thing. 
Apparently, this was every criminal's wet dream come true, to have a cop at
their mercy.  And from the look on James' face, it was every cop's worst
nightmare.

   "God, you're tight," the con told James.  "You feel so good.  So hot. 
So fucking tight."

   James was red in the face, and his lip trembled.  But he wouldn't let
himself cry.  Glennis had noticed that this was a point of honor with him.
No matter how much he sobbed afterwards, he never broke down in front of
his johns.

   The con's moans grew louder.  He started to thrust faster and harder.

   "AAAGH!" he screamed as he came.

   And James' face crumpled, the way it always did when he felt a man's
semen spurting inside him.

   "God," the con said, as he collapsed onto James' back.  "That was
great."

   When he got his breath back, he straightened up and pulled out.

   "You are one fine fuck," he told James.

   James knew better than to talk back to a customer.  He stayed silent and
kept his eyes lowered.

   The con pulled his pants on.  "I never knew cops had such tight asses.
Or I would have butt fucked one of you boys a long time ago.  Ah, well. 
Doesn't matter.  From now on, I can always come and see you whenever I get
an itch for cop pussy, right?"

   He laughed.

   "See you 'round," he said and headed for the door.

   Glennis went out to the hallway to meet him.

   "I hope you enjoyed yourself," she said.

   "Yes ma'am, thank you.  I sure did.  I was just telling the detective
what a tight pussy he has.  Real nice."

   "Yes, James is definitely something special.  He was a virgin until very
recently, you know."

   "Shit, he still feels cherry."

   "I'm so glad you enjoyed him.  Do come back.  And I hope you'll tell
your friends.  You can always get in touch with us through the same
contact."

   "Hell, I'm going to come back as soon as I can.  And I'll bring a whole
bunch of guys with me who'd love nothing more than to nail Detective
Henderson's ass."

   "Oh, a gang bang.  That will be nice.  James has never had more than one
client at a time.  Having guys lined up to take their turn with him will
certainly expand his horizons."

   The man laughed.  "Won't it, now?"

   She smiled.  "Well, thank you for your visit.  Bradshaw will see you
out. Of course, we'll need you to observe the same security measures that
you did on the way in."

   "No problem.  I don't mind wearing a blindfold for something this good."

   Bradshaw motioned to the man.  "Just follow me this way, sir."

   "Sir, huh?" The con smiled brightly.  "I like this place.  A lot."

   Bradshaw escorted him to the exit.  Glennis went in to check on James.
After his first day of turning tricks, she felt he deserved a little
consolation.  He'd be hungry for a woman's touch after being used so
callously by men for hours on end.  It was the perfect opportunity to show
him the erotic, pleasurable side of getting penetrated.

   She found him sobbing, still suspended in the swing, the evidence of the
day's activities dripping from between his thighs.

   "How are you, James?" she asked him.

   His shoulders shook.  He didn't answer.

   "I know.  I know." She caressed his back.  "It's a terrible life."

   She stroked his hair soothingly.

   "Now you know how all those working girls you hassled felt after they'd
spent a night servicing johns--men who didn't see them as human, just as a
warm, tight hole to fuck."

   He sobbed harder.

   "Now you know *exactly* what that's like." She put a hand on his butt
cheek and lightly stroked him.

   He flinched.  She dipped her fingers in the come drooling from his ass
and wrote the word "whore" across his back.

   "How does it feel, James?  Still think those women you exploited got
what they deserved?  That they wanted it?"

   "I never realized," he said, brokenly.

   She nodded.  "I know." She stroked his side.  "That's why I had to show
you."

   She bent down and whispered in his ear.

   "Have you remembered who I am yet?" she asked.

   He shook his head.  "But I'm sorry.  I swear to God.  For whatever I
did."

   "Oh, you did to me what you did to all the girls, James.  Only I wasn't
quite what you took me for.  Not that you particularly cared.  That's what
I remember the most about you.  Your arrogance.  You didn't give fucking me
a second thought.  You just took, like you owned me.  So I really needed
you to know how that feels, what it's like to be treated like a whore.  You
know now, don't you, baby?"

   He nodded, the tears streaming down his face.

   "My poor, poor James.  Those men really put you through it today, didn't
they?"

   His back hitched with sobs.

   "Men can be such pigs.  They'll just fuck you and fuck you and fuck you,
without caring whether you get any pleasure or not.  I know.  I know."

   She wiped away James' tears and kissed him.  He closed his eyes,
savoring the small gesture of tenderness.

   "I could give you pleasure, James," she said, against his mouth. 
"You've been such a good boy.  I'd like to reward you.  Would you like
that? Hmm?"

   "Mmm," he responded.

   "Would you like it if I made love to you?  Hmm, baby?  If I took you to
my bed and kissed you and fucked you until you came so hard you saw a whole
cosmos full of stars in your head.  You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

   She moved her hands over him, down his back, cupping his butt, stroking
his thighs, reaching beneath him to fondle his balls.  They were drawn up
tightly against his body.

   She tapped the front of his chastity belt, causing his dick to leap.  He
groaned in pain.  "Would you like me to take this off?" she asked him. 
"Let that big, gorgeous cock of yours free?  Hmm, baby?  Can I play with
you?  Can I fuck you?"

   He wouldn't look at her.  He just nodded.  But that wasn't nearly good
enough for her.  She took his face in her hands and made him meet her eye.

   "You have to ask me, baby.  Ask me nice."

   "Please," he said, tears trembling in those blue, blue eyes of his.

   She smiled and kissed him.  He opened his mouth to her, but waited,
sweetly, obediently, until she deepened the kissed.  She rewarded him and
stroked his tongue with hers.  He moaned in the back of his throat.  She
pulled back.

   "Tell me what you want."

   "I--" He looked at her helplessly, as if he didn't know how to form the
words.

   She moved her hands down from his shoulder, circled teasingly around his
collar bone, inched down until she came to his nipples, still puffy from
the piercing.  She circled the swollen nipples lazily, and they hardened.

   "All you have to do is tell me."

   He whimpered.  She gently tugged on the gold rings.

   "Agh!"

   "Tell me!" she demanded.

   "Fuck me." His mouth trembled.  "Please.  I want you to fuck me."

   She kissed him again, letting him into her mouth this time.  "I want
that, too."

   She stepped away and motioned for Bradshaw.

   "Get him down and clean him up," she said.

   "Yes, madam."

   Glennis smiled.  This was the kind of satisfaction a Fury lived for.

   ***

   Bradshaw and two other assistants undid the fastenings and helped James
out of the swing.  Bradshaw took him into the adjoining bathroom.  Glennis
could hear the sound of water running in the sink.  When they returned,
James had been well scrubbed, and he smelled of sandalwood, her favorite
scent.  Bradshaw always thought of everything.

   "All right," she said.  "Show James the way to my room."

   Bradshaw nodded and escorted James out to the hallway.  She let them go
ahead of her, so she could enjoy watching the movement of James' muscular
buttocks as he walked.  He limped a little, and she knew his ass must be
sore.

   When they got to her room, Bradshaw turned down the bed and instructed
James to lie on his back.

   Then he turned to her.  "You'll need these," he said, handing her the
key to James' chastity belt.

   She smiled.  "Thank you."

   He nodded and closed the doors behind him as he left.

   Glennis went to kneel on the bed beside James.  "Are you ready to get
this thing off your cock?"

   He nodded eagerly, and she smiled.

   "Okay, baby.  Here we go, then." She fitted the key into the lock and
freed James' trapped penis.

   He groaned in relief and immediately reached for himself.  He was
already half hard.

   She batted his hand away.  "Don't be silly.  You know you're not allowed
to touch yourself."

   He made a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, and his eyes pleaded
with her to do *something* to ease his arousal.

   She bent over, pressed a kiss to the crease of his thigh and whispered
against his soft, hairless skin.  "Soon.  I promise.  You'll come so hard
the world will go gray."

   She got off the bed.  He moaned, his voice filled with need.

   "Just watch," she told him.  "I'm going to put on a little show for you,
baby."

   She moved to the foot of the bed.  His eyes greedily followed her.  She
slowly pulled the silk blouse from the waistband of her skirt, eased open
each button, let the blouse slide from her shoulders and flutter to the
floor.

   James' eyes grew huge, and they didn't stray from her for a single
second.  She wasn't sure his blink reflex was even still working.

   She turned around, so he could watch as she undid the buttons on her
skirt and ever so slowly slid down the zipper.  Her hips swayed as she
pushed the fabric down over her hips, the silk rustling softly as she let
the skirt fall to her ankles.  She stepped out of it.  James sucked in his
breath.

   "Don't even think about touching yourself," she told him, not needing to
look around to know that he was reaching for his cock.

   He groaned loudly in frustration.  She smiled to herself.  This was the
elemental power every woman wielded, to give a man what he needed or to
withhold it, completely at her whim.  Glennis found moments like this oh,
so delicious.

   "Be a good boy," she told him.  "Or you won't get your reward.  You *do*
want this, don't you?"

   "Yes," he said, his voice thick with lust.

   "Good," she said.  "Now, watch."

   She reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, removed it and threw it
over her shoulder onto the bed.

   "God," James gasped.

   "Do you want me to turn around, baby?"

   "God, yes."

   "Please?"

   "Yes.  Please.  *Please*!"

   She smiled at him over her shoulder.  "You beg so prettily, James.  How
can I ever deny you anything when you ask so sweetly?"

   She turned around and slowly moved toward the bed.  She'd left on her
panties, garters, stockings and high heels.  James struck her as the
stereotypical sort who would enjoy that porn film look.  If his glittering
eyes and trembling hands were any indication, he did, in fact, appreciate
it.  She knelt beside him on the bed again.  She could feel the heat of his
breath against her arm.

   "You're so beautiful," he said.

   She kissed his ear and whispered, "You say the sweetest things, James.
Every time."

   He looked confused.  She laughed.

   "Never mind, baby."

   She leaned over and kissed him.  He moaned softly against her mouth. 
She deepened the kiss, and he moaned more urgently.

   "So sweet," she told him.

   She pulled back to look at him.  His eyes were wide and dilated with
need.

   "You want to touch my breasts?" she asked.  "You seemed to like them the
last time.  You told me I had tits that just begged to be held.  You
probably don't remember that, but you did say it.  So why don't you hold
them now, James?  Go on."

   He stared up at her, licked his lips and reached for her.

   "That's it, James.  Touch me.  Make me feel good."

   And he did, gently, skillfully, cupping her breasts in his broad palms,
skimming the nipples with his thumbs, making them swell and harden.

   "So good," she said, stroking up and down his arms.  "Spread your legs
for me, baby.  You need to learn to show yourself off.  You don't want to
keep your sweet places hidden.  That's what everybody wants to see."

   He eagerly obeyed her, without hesitation or protest.

   She smiled broadly.  "Oh, yeah, baby.  You're so sexy like that."

   She pressed a kiss to his belly.  His muscles trembled beneath her lips.

   "Doesn't it excite you?" she asked.  "Even just a little.  To know how
hot you can make someone just by opening your legs for them?"

   He blinked at her, lost in a sensual daze, unable to answer.

   She moved down his body, to kneel between his legs.  He began to breathe
even harder.  She ran her fingers lightly up his legs, from his ankles to
his knees, a delicate little tease.

   "God!" he panted.

   She laughed, luxuriating in her command of his body.  This was her
element.  This was what a Fury lived for.

   "Touch me," he begged.

   She kissed the insides of his thighs.  "Oh, baby.  No," she said, her
mouth against his supple skin, her breath teasing him.  "That's not what
we're here for.  Now, what should you be asking me to do to you?"

   He colored brightly and ducked his head.  But he did whisper, "Fuck me."

   She fondled his thighs and then slid off the bed.  A half-strangled
animal sound of protest came out of him.

   "Sshh," she soothed.  "I'll be right back."

   She picked up the dildo harness and strapped it on.  She lubed the toy
cock and brought the tube of slick stuff back to bed with her.  She knelt
between James' thighs again.  His cock still rested needily against his
belly.  But there was tension in his body that hadn't been there a moment
before.  The sight of the dildo made him nervous.  As much as he wanted
her, he couldn't help being afraid of getting fucked.

   She stroked her hands over his body reassuringly, caressing his belly,
his hips, his calves and thighs.

   "It's okay.  It's okay," she kept assuring him.

   Gradually, she could feel him relaxing.  Soon enough, his body was
trembling with need again.  She squirted some lube onto her fingers and
gently began to rub the outside of his hole.  His body clenched
involuntarily.

   "Just relax," she coaxed.  "I'm going to make you feel good.  I
promise."

   He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to calm down.  She
could feel his buttocks unclench.  She stroked his entrance seductively.

   "Some people think this part of the body is dirty and disgusting.  I bet
that's what you think, isn't it, James?  It embarrasses you to have people
touch you down here.  But there's nothing dirty about it.  Do you know what
connoisseurs compare it to?" She circled his anus teasingly.  "A rosebud.
Doesn't that make you feel pretty, James?  Doesn't that make you want to
show off that sweet little place?  Hmm, baby?  Are you going to do it for
me?  Pull your legs back and let me get a good look at that pretty little
rosebud of yours."

   He slowly drew his knees up to his chest and held them there.  His gaze
never wavered from her, his expression mesmerized, as he exposed himself to
her.

   "Oh, yeah, baby," she said, encouragingly.  "Such a sweet little spot.
So tender.  So responsive."

   She pressed a light kiss to his hole.  He gasped in surprised pleasure.

   "See how good it can feel?" she asked.

   He nodded, his eyes filled with amazement.

   "You don't have to be embarrassed about being touched here," she said,
as she began gently working a finger inside him.  "There's nothing wrong
with feeling good.  Nothing wrong with giving yourself over to pleasure."

   She could feel the heated clench of his muscle around her finger.  He
had winced when she'd first penetrated him, his ass sore from the day's
workout.  But now he was staring at her, transfixed, his eyes wide and
bright.  She began stroking his passage.  The fever in his expression grew
hotter.

   "You're luckier than most men," she told him, adding a second finger. 
"They never get to experience this.  They live their whole lives terrified
of it.  They never realize what a powerful thing it is to be penetrated."

   She felt for his prostate and gently worked it.  He gasped, an
expression of rapt ecstasy on his face.

   "They don't think it's right for a man to be the one who's taken," she
said, working in yet another finger.  James groaned.  "But if it's so
wrong, then how come it feels so good?  Why are men's bodies built to get
such intense pleasure from it?"

   She twisted her fingers, playing with his little fuck button.  A jolt of
pure electric thrill ran through James' body.  His cock jerked and spat.

   "Please," he moaned.

   "Tell me what you want, baby."

   "God.  I need-- Please!"

   "What do you need, James?  All you have to do is ask me for it." She
continued to finger fuck him.  "How does your ass feel, baby?"

   James' hands clenched as he held onto his knees, his knuckles turning
white.  "On fire," he said, the tendons standing out on his neck.

   "You want more?"

   He nodded, eagerly.

   "Tell me."

   "I--"

   "Just say it."

   "I want you to--"

   "It's going to feel so good."

   "--fuck me.  God.  Please!  Fuck me!  *Fuck me*!"

   She pulled her fingers out of his body.  "Oh, yeah, baby.  All you ever
had to do was ask." She positioned the dildo at his entrance.  "Let
yourself go, James.  Let me take you."

   He pulled her legs further into his chest.  "Uuuuunh, yeah," he moaned.
"Please.  Take me."

   She gently pushed inside.  He stopped breathing for a moment.

   "See how sweet surrender can be, James?" She began to move inside him,
slowly, carefully.

   "Oh, God," he said, a sensual flush creeping over his face.

   Glennis let the rhythm start to build, moving her hips just so, to work
his prostate with every stroke.

   "Oh, God.  Oh, *God*!" he panted.

   James wiggled his hips, temptation written all over his face.

   "Oh, yes.  Yes," she encouraged him.  "Move with me, baby.  Fuck me
back."

   He couldn't restrain himself any longer, couldn't fight his natural
instincts.  He began to meet her thrusts, ardently fucking himself on the
dildo that was stretching his ass, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out
from between his teeth as he grunted with exertion.

   He obviously loved it.

   And Glennis knew this was the moment she'd been waiting for, to have him
at her mercy the way she'd once been at his.  Not just to fuck him, but to
make him moan and tremble and burn inside, just the way she had.

   The very thought of it made her feel like her insides were liquefying,
setting to boil.  Every thrust into James' body sent sparks from her pussy
all the way up her spine.  She cupped her breasts, and it felt like every
nerve in her body was superheating.

   James puffed and heaved.  The sight of her touching herself nearly undid
him.  She moved faster inside him.

   "Ooooooh!" he yelled out, his face stark with need.

   She gripped her breasts harder, fucking him wildly.  He met her thrust
for thrust--with equal force, equal intensity, equal desire.

   "Tell me you love it," she said.

   "Oh, God!"

   "Tell me."

   "S'good," he gasped.

   "Tell me."

   "I love it," he whispered.

   "TELL ME!" she commanded.

   "I FUCKING LOVE IT," he screamed.  "I LOVE YOU FUCKING ME.  PLEASE. 
FUCK ME!  FUCK ME HARDER!  MAKE ME COME!"

   She shoved inside him.  He bucked and seized, his jaw clenched, his eyes
wide and dazed.  And then he orgasmed, ferociously, his entire body
shuddering, his cock spraying wave after wave of come, splashing his belly,
his arms, chest, face, the sheets, more come than Glennis thought she'd
ever seen before.  And there was the most stunned expression on his face,
as if he couldn't quite believe that this was his body, his dick.  He'd
clearly never come like this before, and it must have been bewildering to
him, knowing it was because he'd just had his ass fucked.

   Glennis felt the hot waves of pleasure building in her pussy.  She knew
James' confusion would give way to shame soon enough when he realized what
he'd done, what he'd said, that there was no drug to blame this time.  She
cried out as that image pushed her over the edge and plunged her into the
liquid heat of climax.

   When she came back to herself, James was lying perfectly still,
slack-jawed, breathing heavily.  She pulled out.  He still didn't move.

   "I told you that you'd love it," she said, sliding off the bed, removing
the harness, pulling on her robe.

   He didn't answer, but his eyes followed her every movement.  And then
she understood.  James wasn't sorry.  If she wanted to fuck him again right
now, he would happily spread his legs for her.  She had him, completely. 
To fuck, to torment, to rule.  All hers.

   And that had always been her secret wish, her shameful weakness, this
desire to have James a willing, obedient servant in her bed.  Oh, she'd
told herself it was simply a project, just a Fury doing her duty.  But the
truth was that her plans for James had always had more to do with her
pleasure than his punishment.  There had always been this picture in the
back of her mind: James, nude, ready to serve, kneeling at her side as she
worked, dined, entertained friends; James, attending to her needs, smiling
up at her with adoration; James, in her bed, an eager little plaything,
intent upon pleasing her, lying back, spreading his legs, begging her to
use him however she saw fit.

   She vowed one day she'd have him at her mercy.

   And now that she did, now that he lay submissive and come-covered on her
silk sheets, she felt the desire draining away from her.  She'd wanted to
tame him, to take his power.  And she had.  But when she looked at him, the
spark was gone.  He wasn't the man he once was.  And that's who she had
really wanted all these years.  This sniveling stranger held no attraction
for her.

   He stared at her intently as she thought all these things, his
expression beseeching, the message clear.  He wanted her to come back to
bed.  He was willing to grovel for it, to do anything to get more of her
kisses, more of her touch.

   She pulled the sheet up from the footboard and covered him with it.  "Go
to sleep," she said.  "It's been a big day."

   He looked decidedly disappointed.

   "Shut your eyes now," she said, in her most soothing voice.

   It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.  He must have been exhausted
after the day's events.  She watched him in repose, his face relaxed, his
body sprawled.  He was still as handsome as ever.  He just wasn't hers
anymore.

   She showered and changed into clean clothes.  Then she called Bradshaw.
She met him outside the door to her room.

   "I have some work to finish up," she told him.  "I'll be in my office.
Let James sleep.  But when he wakes up, I want you to take him back to his
training room."

   Bradshaw nodded.  "Very well, madam."

   If he felt surprise that she wasn't keeping James with her for the
night, he didn't betray it.  Glennis returned his nod and headed down the
hall toward her office.  This was what she always did when things got
confusing.  She went back to basics.  She concentrated on being a Fury.

   ***

   Glennis spent a few hours pouring over paperwork.  By the time she
returned to her room later that evening, all traces of James' presence had
been removed.  The sheets had been changed and the bed turned back.  The
maid had tidied her stack of books on the night stand and left the bedside
lamp turned on for her.  Olga knew she always liked to read before going to
sleep.

   She undressed, slipped into her nightgown, settled under the covers and
picked up the novel she was in the middle of.  She had read a page or two
when the phone rang.

   "Hello?" she said.

   "Glennis, don't hang up."

   She bit her lip.  It was Carter, absolutely the last person she wanted
to talk to right then.

   "Glennis?  Are you still there?"

   "What do you want?" she asked, coldly.

   "Just to say I'm sorry."

   She snorted.

   "Truly," he said.

   "Fine.  Is that it?"

   "Please, don't be like that."

   She sighed.  Of course, she should have known better than to hope she
could just get him off the phone.

   "What you do want from me, Carter?"

   "Some candor for a change?  Look, I know I upset you the other night."

   "Fine.  So you upset me.  Happy now?"

   "No.  But I do appreciate the honesty.  And I *am* sorry."

   "Okay," she said, sighing again.  "Apology accepted.  And I-- well, I
wish-- it had turned out differently, too."

   It was the closest she could come to an apology of her own.  He
understood that perfectly well and laughed.  She could just imagine the
expression on his face, that smile of his that was half amusement, half
mockery.

   "I was disappointed it didn't last until morning," he said.  "I had some
very interesting ideas about how we could greet the dawn."

   She couldn't help smiling.  "You do have remarkable staying power."

   "As do you," he said, gallantly.

   "Why thank you," she said.

   "So how was your day?" he asked.

   "Okay."

   "Busy?"

   "Yeah."

   "And how is James coming along?  Have you had your wicked way with him
yet?"

   She stiffened at the mention of James' name, but she tried not to let
Carter hear it in her voice.  "Just a little while ago, as a matter of
fact," she told him.

   "How was it?"

   "Touching, really," she said, trying to be breezy.  "He grovelled for
it, even though he'd already spent all day taking it up the ass and must
have been sore as hell."

   "He will do just about anything to get off, won't he?"

   "So it seems."

   "You don't sound very excited about it."

   "Of course, I am.  It's just been a long day."

   "That's all?'

   "*Yes,*" she snapped.  "What did you think?"

   "I thought perhaps this pet project of yours wasn't turning out to be as
satisfying as you expected it to be."

   "Don't be ridiculous."

   She could feel her throat closing up.  This was precisely why it never
worked out between them.  Carter just knew too damned much about her.

   "Hmm.  Okay, then," he said.  "Forget I mentioned it."

   "Fine.  I will.  So what are you doing?  Or should I ask *who* are you
doing?"

   "A local patrol officer whose idea of helping runaways is to molest
them."

   "Sounds worthy of your talents.  When is it happening?"

   "Tomorrow night."

   "A drug and kidnap?"

   "Actually, we're going to do him in his patrol car."

   "I do hope you're not going to get caught."

   "Now who's being ridiculous?  You know I never get caught."

   "I'm just saying it sounds riskier than it ought to be."

   "It's not, really.  We'll lure him out into the middle of nowhere with a
fake call from an untraceable cell phone.  When he gets there, we'll stun
him with a taser, move him and the car to a secure location.  When he wakes
up, he'll find himself naked, gagged and blindfolded, tied up in the back
seat of his own police cruiser, where he'll spend the next few memorable
hours getting raped by me and several of my associates."

   "Okay, so it does sound well thought out," she conceded.

   "Coming from you, that's high praise."

   "I always admire your work.  You know that."

   "I was thinking of videotaping it this time."

   "Really?"

   "We wear masks anyway.  So protecting our identities isn't an issue. 
And you inspired me.  Why not capture the whole thing for posterity and add
to the good officer's humiliation?"

   "My philosophy exactly.  You know, I could distribute the tape for you.
I have channels already developed."

   "I'd appreciate that.  And I would show my gratitude by donating the
profits to your foundation.  You could help more runaways with it."

   "That's very generous of you."

   "Not at all," he said, magnanimously.

   "I might be inclined to wonder what sparked such an outpouring of
altruism."

   "Oh, I think you know the answer to that."

   "You do realize it's never going to work out between us, right?"

   "I know nothing of the sort.  I think we'd make excellent partners."

   "I work alone, Carter."

   "Yes.  But my point is that you don't have to."

   "I have to go now."

   "Think about it, huh, Glennie?"

   She bit her lip.  She already thought about him way too much.  And with
her disillusionment over James, she felt far too vulnerable to be having
this conversation.

   "Good luck with your project," she said, keeping her voice neutral.  "
Let me know how it goes."

   "I'll bring the tape by when it's ready."

   "Okay.  Well-- Goodnight, then."

   "Goodnight, Glennis."

   She hung up the phone, turned off the lamp and settled down for the
night.  But sleep did not come as she'd hoped.  Between Carter and James,
there was more than enough to keep her awake at night.

   ***

   Glennis dealt with the James situation in the same way she always
handled men who disappointed her.  She ignored him.  Bradshaw continued his
training, and she avoided all contact with him as if he were carrying some
horrible plague.  Weeks went by.  Of course, she knew Bradshaw would come
asking questions eventually, but until he did, she dedicated herself to a
James-free existence.

   She had no idea what she was going to do with him now that her plan of
using him as her own personal sex slave had unraveled.  But she resolved
not to think about it.  She still had plenty of other work to do.  There
were so many cases that deserved her attention as a Fury and not nearly
enough time to deal with them all.

   Finally, Bradshaw appeared in her door way one afternoon, as expected.
She looked up when she heard him knock.

   "Do you have a minute?" he asked.

   She smiled and motioned him to the chair in front of her desk.  "Of
course."

   He took a seat and laid a videotape on top of her pile of papers.  "I
just wanted to update you on James' progress.  These are some of the
highlights from the past weeks."

   She arched an eyebrow.  "Well, now.  That should be very interesting
viewing."

   "I think you'll be pleased to see how far he's come.  It seems he's
developed a genuine passion for the joys of his prostate."

   She laughed.  "They all do eventually.  James just sooner than most."

   "You know what they say about men who treat women like whores.  It
usually masks a subconscious need they have to be used like whores
themselves."

   She nodded.  "That is so true.  I've seen if over and again."

   "I felt that James' training needed a woman's touch.  So you'll see
Corrine on the tapes.  She deserves a lot of the credit for bringing James
along so quickly."

   "I look forward to seeing her work.  I'll watch the tape as soon as I
get a chance."

   He nodded, a distracted expression on his face.  Bradshaw never got
distracted.

   "What is it?" she asked.

   "He still asks for you."

   "Oh."

   "I told him you were away."

   "That was good thinking."

   "I don't think he believes me, though."

   "Oh, well.  He'll get over it.  I'm sure he must be enjoying Corrine's
attentions."

   Bradshaw nodded.  "Although not as much as he would enjoy yours, of
course."

   "Flatterer."

   "Not at all.  No one is better at this work than you are.  And James has
a special weakness for you."

   "James has a weakness for anything with breasts."

   The expression on Bradshaw's face said he wasn't quite convinced.

   "You could own him, you know," he pointed out.  "Body and soul."

   "I suppose so."

   This was absolutely the last thing she wanted to discuss.

   "I thought that's what you wanted," Bradshaw said.

   "So did I."

   "But it isn't?"

   She shook her head.  "It turns out not."

   "Should we stop?"

   "Oh, no.  No.  The work is still important for its own sake.  It's
just-- Have you ever felt dissatisfied with your job?"

   He frowned, considering the question, and then he shook his head.  "No,
I can't really say that I have."

   "Ah, well," she said, quickly moving on.  "That's good.  So, I'll review
the tape and let you know if I have any input.  But I'm sure it's coming
along flawlessly, as always."

   He bowed his head modestly.  "I hope you'll be pleased."

   He got up and headed for the door.  But then he turned back.

   "It isn't because you're dissatisfied with his training, is it?" he
asked, looking concerned.

   "You know it isn't.  It's gone even better than I ever imagined.  I
just-- Well, I guess I lost interest.  That's all."

   He nodded.  "I understand.  It's just--"

   "What?" she asked.

   "It's not very much like you."

   She sighed.  "I know.  And I'm sorry I abandoned you with the project.
But I do really appreciate your finishing it up for me."

   He smiled.  "Any time."

   After he left, Glennis picked up the tape and turned it over in her
hands.  The last thing she wanted to do was watch it.  She just wanted to
pretend James never existed, that she'd never been so silly as to desire
the man who'd stolen her virginity.

   But she was a Fury, and she still had obligations.  She got up, put the
tape in the video player, sat back down at her desk, and clicked it on with
the remote control.

   The tape crackled, and then the picture appeared.  It was James
servicing clients.  It must have been taken several weeks ago, not long
after their interlude together.  Despite his eagerness in her bed, he
remained reticent with his clients.  Bradshaw no longer made him work from
the swing, but he still lay as passive as a rag doll as his johns had sex
with him.  Of course, he would obediently open his legs for them, but his
face clearly showed his disgust as they pushed inside him.  It wasn't
terribly different from what she'd observed during his first day turning
tricks.  She fast-forwarded through it.

   The next bit was devoted to James' rewards.  Now that they were trying
to cultivate in him an honest love of anal penetration, he was frequently
allowed to bring himself to orgasm.  There was a series of shots of James
fucking himself with a dildo, gingerly at first, much more aggressively as
time went by.

   Each successive time, the size of the dildo was increased, so that it
was just a little larger than what James could comfortably accommodate.  If
he really wanted to come, he had to work at it.  Happily for their
training, James still needed his orgasms as desperately as ever.  The video
showed him grunting and sweating as he struggled to get an oversized sex
toy into his ass, his teeth clenched, his face grimly set.  But he was
always determined to bring himself off, and so he always managed to work
the dildo in eventually.

   Glennis smiled as she watched.  Bradshaw really was ingenious.  There
was no one she would trust more to complete James' training.  He always
took the most difficult lesson and found a way to cultivate enthusiasm for
it in his subjects.  In this case, he had James conducting his own size
training, typically one of the biggest hurdles in any regimen.  Even
subjects who were totally worn down could muster up enough strength to
resist having their anuses stretched to an unnatural capacity.  But as
always, James' unquenchable sexual appetite worked against him.  In his
enthusiasm to come, he hardly seemed to notice that his ass was becoming as
flexible as a woman's pussy.

   Size training segued naturally into fisting.  That was another reason
most subjects fought against it so passionately.  But James was lost in a
fog of sensual need and never saw it coming, not until Bradshaw pulled out
the ButtBuster, a dildo specially designed to simulate the experience of
being fisted.  And then he turned pale and shook with fear.  But it was too
late by then to protest.  His ass had already been stretched enough to
accommodate it.  And he wouldn't be allowed any more pleasure if he
refused.

   James could never bring himself to accept enforced chastity, and so he
gave in soon enough.

   To avoid injuries, Bradshaw helped him get it inside.  James' stark
expression showed the strain as the large head of the toy stretched his ass
nearly beyond its limits.  Sweat beaded on his upper lip, and his thighs
trembled.  But once he got it all the way in and grew used to it, his cock
began to twitch.  Bradshaw gently moved it inside him, and his pained
expression turned to bright-eyed rapture.

   "Ooooooh!  God!" he cried out as Bradshaw slowly fucked him with the
fake fist.

   He was clearly on his way to one of the most powerful orgasms of his
life.  Glennis fast- forwarded through it, not terribly interested in
James' pleasure.

   She was, however, curious about how he would react to an actual person
fisting him.  Subjects often found this far more difficult to accept than a
toy imitation.  Clever as always, Bradshaw left this part of the training
to Corrine.  Glennis hit the play button and watched.

   James was down on his hands and knees, ferociously erect.  Corrine knelt
beside him, stroking his back and buttocks.

   She kissed his neck and whispered in his ear, "I could make you feel
good, James.  I could make you come."

   "Please!" he begged.

   She fondled his ass cheeks.  "Tell me what you want."

   "Fuck me," James said, without hesitation.  "God, please, fuck me."

   For a moment, Glennis felt the wicked pinprick of envy.  Despite what
she'd told Bradshaw, she had believed that James preferred her to any other
woman.  But now, watching him beg for Corrine's attention much the same way
he'd begged for hers, she realized that James truly was a willing and
submissive whore to any woman who wanted him.  She hadn't been special to
him all those years ago, and despite everything, she wasn't special to him
now.

   On the tape, Corrine laughed throatily.  "But I don't have a dick,
James. I'm a woman.  Or hadn't you noticed?"

   "I noticed," he said, trying to turn his head around far enough to
nuzzle her breast.

   She laughed and pulled away.  "Uh, uh, uh," she said, teasingly.

   "Please," he said, his eyes shining and desperate, his cock purple and
swollen.  "Can't you, uh-- you know, strap on the-- the thing."

   He blushed.

   She arched an eyebrow.  "You mean, you want me to strap on a dildo and
fuck you with it?"

   He blushed a little harder and nodded.

   She pouted.  "You'd really like some silly piece of silicone," she said,
tracing the line of his back with a single finger.  "More than you'd like
me touching you, my hand making you feel good.  I guess you don't really
want me after all."

   He shook his head frantically.  "I want you.  God.  I want you so bad."

   "Just me.  Not some toy between us?"

   "You.  Only you."

   She kissed his shoulder.  "Let me love you, baby.  Let me love you my
way." She ran a hand over his butt, stroking him with her fingers before
balling her hand into a fist and pressing it lightly between his cheeks.

   He understood the gesture perfectly well.  He squeezed his eyes tightly
closed and nodded.  Corrine leaned forward and kissed him passionately on
the mouth.

   "I'll make it so good for you," she told him.  "I promise."

   James didn't look entirely convinced.  Corrine kissed him again.

   "I'm going to love doing this," she said.  "And I'm going to make you
love it, too.  You'll see."

   She liberally squeezed lube onto her hand.  James trembled, in
anticipation or dread, Glennis couldn't be sure.  Corrine whispered in his
ear, kissed his face, neck and shoulders as she slowly worked in each
finger.  By the time her entire fist was inside him, James' eyes bulged,
and he was breathing heavily.

   "Are you okay?" Corrine asked him.

   "Hurts," he croaked.

   "Sssh.  Sssh," she soothed, kissing his back.  "Wait for it.  It'll
turn."

   He whimpered in pain.

   "Breathe," Corrine told him.  "Relax."

   After a few moments, some of the tension in his body eased.  Corrine
began slowly moving her fist.  As Glennis watched, she could see the
expression on James' face gradually change.  His noises lost the sound of
protest.  His hips began moving, only slightly at first, but more and more
demandingly as his excitement built, fucking himself on Corrine's fist. 
Honestly, Glennis wasn't certain she'd ever seen anything like it.

   When James came, he howled like an animal in heat, his face contorting
with pleasure, his eyes wide and fixed.  Corrine gently pulled out, and he
sagged to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head as he lost
consciousness from the force of his orgasm.

   Corrine smiled, her face glowing with satisfaction.  Glennis had always
viewed Bradshaw's young assistant as a dependable, efficient, loyal
employee, but a mousy girl, without the spark to become a trainer in her
own right.  After this performance, she had to seriously revise that
opinion.  Apparently, Corrine had hidden depths of talent.  In fact, she
reminded Glennis a little of herself when she was younger.

   She fast-forwarded again.  More images flashed by of James being
fisted--by Bradshaw, other trainers, and finally his clients.  In each
shot, he worked his hips and took the fist as a good whore should, not just
docilely, but with genuine eagerness.

   She hit play again when the video began showing footage of the next step
in James' program, his aversion training.

   It was conducted under the guise of one of James' rewards.  He and
Corrine lay entwined in bed together.  They kissed hungrily.  James stroked
her breasts.  She lazily fingered his hole.  James was careful not to press
his erection against her body or try to rub himself against the mattress or
the sheets.  He was well aware that such misbehavior would cut short his
pleasure.  At the same time, though, he would occasionally look at Corrine
and then down at his cock, an expression of intense longing in his eyes,
clearly wishing she would touch him there.

   Corrine pulled away from the kiss.  "Mmm.  You make me feel so good."

   She rubbed his belly, his hips, his thighs, until his cock was straining
and his balls were drawn up tightly against his belly.  He moaned and
thrashed his head, frantic for release.

   "You make me feel so good, baby, that I'd really like to do something
special for you," Corrine told him.

   He spread his legs wider.  "Fuck me," he begged, feverishly.

   "I could do that.  But I'd like to give you more." She kissed him,
devouring his lips.  And then she whispered conspiratorially, "You want
your cock sucked, James?  Hmm?  That would be special, wouldn't it?"

   His eyes darted guiltily.  "I'm not supposed to."

   She licked her lips seductively.  "I know.  But just this once.  Nobody
will know."

   "I don't know--"

   "Okay.  I mean, if you don't want to."

   "No!  I just--"

   "I understand," she said.

   "You're sure nobody will find out?" he asked, nervously.

   She cupped his balls.  "I wouldn't let you lose these," she said.

   He groaned at the contact.  "Please!"

   "What, baby?"

   "Suck me.  God.  Please.  I'll do anything."

   "Anything?"

   "Whatever you want."

   "There is something that would make me hot."

   "What is it?"

   "Do you like animals, James?"

   He looked confused.  "What?"

   "You know, pets.  A dog, for instance.  You like dogs, don't you,
James?"

   "Well, yeah.  I guess so."

   "I have a pet," she told him.

   "You do?"

   "Several, actually.  Dogs.  I just love dogs.  They're Dobermans.  My
pets.  The most beautiful dogs in the world."

   "Yeah?"

   She nodded earnestly.  "Oh, yes.  Lithe and muscular and powerful." She
kissed his shoulder.  "A lot like you."

   He laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest, enjoying the flattery and
the flirtation.

   "Do you know what would make me really happy?" She leaned in close to
whisper in his ear.  "To see you and my babies together."

   The expression of enjoyment disappeared from his face.  "You mean--"

   "Oh, yeah," she said.

   "No!  No way."

   "But you said you'd do anything to please me," she reminded him.

   "Not that."

   "Why?"

   "What do you mean *why*?  Because it's disgusting."

   "It's the same thing you do with men."

   "That's different."

   "Why?"

   "Because it's *people*."

   "Oh, baby, don't be so narrow.  A cock is a cock.  And you've never been
fucked until you've done it with my dogs.  Trust me on this."

   She smiled at him suggestively.

   "You mean you--"

   She laughed.  "Of course."

   He swallowed, a sensual flush creeping over his face.

   "You like that idea, huh?" she asked.

   He wouldn't answer, but the way his cock bobbed against his belly said
everything.

   "So, it's okay for me to get fucked by my puppies, but not you?  Is that
it?"

   His faced turned red.  "No!  Of course not.  It's just-- I can't.  I'm
sorry."

   She sighed.  "Oh, well.  I guess you don't want your cock sucked after
all.  It's probably just as well.  Someone might have found out.  And then
I really would have been in trouble."

   James' face crumpled with disappointment.  "Isn't there anything else I
could do for you?"

   She seemed to consider the question a moment and then shook her head. 
"Afraid not.  I really had my heart set on this.  I always share everything
with my puppies."

   She got up from bed and pulled on her robe.

   "Wait!" he begged.

   She turned back around.  "What?"

   "I, uh--"

   "Yes, James."

   "I'll do it," he said, softly.

   Corrine's face lit up.  "Oh, goody." She took him by the arm and pulled
him off the bed.  "It's going to be so much fun."

   "Where are we going?" he asked, nervously.

   "Just next door," she said.  "That's where my puppies are kenneled."

   She dragged him by the hand to the connecting door and into the next
room.  It was a stark space.  The walls were white, and the floor was
padded.  Four large cages, each one housing a dog, took up the far wall. 
Otherwise, the room was empty.

   Corrine walked over to the pens and opened each one, letting the
Dobermans out.  They were sleek, powerful animals.  They wagged their tails
and jumped up on Corrine, their tongues lolling out of their mouths,
clearly glad to see her.

   "Come and meet them," Corrine called to James.

   He hesitated by the door.

   "Uh--"

   "Well, come on then.  You said you liked animals."

   "Yeah, but--"

   "James, just come and pet them.  That's all I'm asking."

   She stroked one of the dogs, rubbing his shiny coat, burying her face in
his fur.  Glennis had to admire Corrine's abilities.  She managed to look
like an innocent little girl and a very naught vixen all at once.  James,
of course, could not resist.  He slowly drifted over to the cages and
joined her down on the floor.

   "Go on," Corrine coaxed him.  "Pet Satan."

   "Satan?" James asked, a little alarmed.

   She laughed.  "Only because he's such a temptation.  Not because he has
the temperament of the devil.  Honest."

   James tentatively petted the dog.  Satan licked James' hand and wagged
his tail.  James smiled.

   "He seems friendly," he said.  "I didn't think Dobermans were."

   "Oh, you know how people get all hysterical over nothing.  Dobermans are
great dogs.  You just have to train them properly."

   "And these dogs have been?"

   "Of course.  I trained them myself.  They're perfectly obedient.  In
fact, they'll do anything I say.  I'll show you." She turned to Satan. 
"Lie down."

   He flopped down onto the floor, his paws stretched out in front of him.

   "Roll over."

   He rolled over.

   "Sit."

   He sat up on his haunches.

   "See?" she said.

   "That's great.  What are the rest of their names?"

   "This one is Brutus," she said, indicating the dog she was petting. 
"And that one is King.  And that's Zeus."

   James laughed.  "Very macho names." He rubbed King's muzzle and stroked
Zeus' side.

   "Well deserved, I promise you," Corrine told him.

   "So what other tricks do they do?"

   "Oh, all kinds of things.  Do you want to see?" she asked.

   He nodded.

   She smiled.  "Okay.  Zeus!" The dog quivered with attention.  "NUZZLE,"
she commanded.

   Zeus snapped to his feet, went around behind James and began poking his
nose between James' cheeks.  James shrieked with surprise and alarm.

   "Just relax," Corrine told him.  "Get on your hands and knees.  Let Zeus
show you what he can do."

   Zeus nudged James with his head, trying to get him to part his thighs.

   "I don't think this is a good idea," James said in a panicky voice. 
"Call him off.  Corrine?  Come on.  Call off the damned dog."

   "Oh, don't be such a baby," she said.  "Here.  Watch this."

   She pulled off her robe and got onto her hands and knees.

   "King!  NUZZLE."

   King quickly moved behind her and buried his nose between her legs,
eagerly lapping at her pussy lips.

   "Ooooh!" she moaned in ecstasy.

   "Shit!" James said, his dick getting noticeably harder as he watched
King eating out Corrine's cunt.

   "So good," Corrine gasped.

   James, never one to resist the lure of pleasure for long, opened his
legs for Zeus.

   "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed, as the dog began licking his anus.

   "Does it-- feel good, James?" Corrine asked, breathing heavily.

   "Oh, God!" James said, panting.

   Zeus grew more aggressive, giving James a hot, wet tongue fucking,
pushing deeper and deeper inside him.  James howled, sounding like an
animal himself.  Come dripped from his cock and splashed on the floor.

   Glennis noticed that all four of the dogs were growing hard, their cocks
extending from their sheaths.  They had been specially trained to react to
the scent of a human male's arousal, and from the look of things, James was
overpowering the room with his sex smell.

   "Aaagh!  Aaagh!  Aaagh!" Corrine squealed as she came.

   James moaned loudly, the sight of Corrine's shaking, climaxing body
making him even hornier.  The dogs all grew more erect.

   After she finished coming, Corrine lay boneless on the ground,
struggling to regain her breath.  "Good, King," she said.  "BACK!"

   King pulled away from her pussy, his tail wagging.  He walked back to
his cage and sat down in front of it.

   "Good boy," Corrine told him, pulling herself up to her feet.

   "Oooh!  Oooh!  Oooh!" James chanted, resting his forehead against the
floor, rocking his hips as Zeus continued to eat him out.

   "Okay, James.  I'm going to leave you with the puppies now.  Just a few
things you should remember.  The boys like a submissive bitch.  Keep your
head down.  Don't look them in the eye.  Keep your legs spread.  Don't try
to push them away or get up.  That makes them mad.  When a dog pushes his
cock in your face, suck it.  If you don't, they get *really* mad.  And
believe me, you don't want them mad.  Enjoy!"

   Corrine quickly skipped out the door and locked it behind her.

   "Wha--"

   James was too dazed by the erotic sensation of a hot tongue turning his
ass inside out to really react.

   "Okay.  Zeus!  BACK." Corrine's voice came over the intercom.

   Zeus immediately stop licking and went back to his cage.

   "Hey!" James protested.

   "Satan!  MOUNT."

   The dog hurried over to James, climbed up on his back and began pushing
his erect penis between James' cheeks, trying to hit his hole.

   "Ahhh!" James yelped in surprise and instinctively tried to pull away.

   "Don't, James!" Corrine warned him.

   Satan snarled and nipped James on the shoulder.  The bite wasn't hard
enough to break the skin, but James yelled out in terror.

   "Just let him fuck you, James.  And you won't get hurt."

   "Call him off!  Aaaagh!  God.  Call him *off*!"

   "Oh, no.  I can't do that.  You promised me.  Remember?"

   "Please!" James begged.

   "You want your cock sucked, don't you?"

   He cried pitifully.  Then Satan found his target and began forcing his
doggy cock inside his ass.  And James started to wail in panic.

   "Noooo!"

   "What's wrong, James?  Don't you like being a bitch?"

   He sobbed in humiliation.  Satan began riding him, his hips moving back
and forth like a jackhammer, fucking James faster and harder than any human
ever could.  James cried more hysterically.  His body shook with the force
of the assault, his balls swinging back and forth beneath him.

   "Satan really seems to like your pussy, James," Corrine told him.  "I
don't think I've ever seen him quite this excited before.  But we can't let
Satan have all the fun, can we?"

   "Nooo!" James screamed.  "*Don't*!"

   "Brutus!  GET THE TITTIES."

   Brutus lunged forward, ducked his head beneath James' body and began
vigorously licking and sucking his nipples.  James screamed.  Brutus took
one of the nipple rings between his teeth and tugged.  James screamed more
frantically.

   "Don't try to pull away from him," Corrine told him.  "You don't want
your nipples torn off."

   He practically hyperventilated, completely petrified.

   "By the time they're finished with your titties, your nipples are going
to be a good half inch longer.  Won't that be pretty?"

   Brutus roughly worked James' nipples, and James cried out at the painful
treatment.

   'Fuck!" he suddenly screamed.  "What the *hell* is that?"

   "What?" Corrine asked.

   "Oh, God.  My ass.  My ass!"

   His face went completely white and stark.

   "Oh, *that*," Corrine said.  "I dare say you're feeling Satan's knot
forming inside you."

   "Noooo!"

   "That means he's probably about to come."

   "AAAAAAGH!" James wailed, his face contorted with revulsion.

   "Oh, I guess he *is* coming," Corrine corrected herself.  "How does that
feel, James?  Getting pumped full of doggy jizz?"

   Tears streamed down James' face, and his bottom lip trembled like a
little child's.

   Satan finished coming, got down and turned around so that he and James
were tail to tail.

   "Get it out of me!" James demanded.

   Satan tried to pull away.  James howled in agony.

   "Get it *out*!" he begged.

   "I can't," Corrine told him.  "You're tied together.  That happens when
a dog fucks his bitch.  It's Satan's way of trying to knock you up with his
puppies.  Hey, wouldn't that be cool if he could get you pregnant?"

   Satan lunged again, trying to pull free.

   "Please!" James shrieked.

   "Satan!  STAY." And then she said to James, "At least now he won't tear
your ass open."

   But somehow that didn't seem to comfort James.  He continued to cry.

   "Oh, my poor baby," Corrine said.  "You want something to make you feel
better?  Huh?  You want that blow job I promised you?  What do you say,
baby?"

   James was too choked by sobs to answer.

   "Okay, baby.  I'm going to take that as a yes," she said.  "King! 
SUCK."

   King made a beeline for James' cock, nuzzling and licking at it, before
taking it into his mouth and sucking.

   "AAAAAAAGH!" James screeched in pure terror.

   "Don't even think about resisting," Corrine told him.  "I'd hate to
think what King might do to your cock."

   James continued to scream in horror.

   Glennis smiled as she watched.  The dogs were, of course, carefully
trained to do no actual damage to human genitals.  But she imagined it was
a truly harrowing experience for a man to have his most tender, vulnerable
parts in a dog's mouth, at the mercy of its teeth and its unpredictable
behavior.  James had no idea if the animal would simply suck him off or
devour his cock entirely, leaving him with a bloody stump.

   Finally, Satan's knot diminished enough for him to pull free of James'
body.  However, while they'd been tied together, the dog's cock had grown
erect again.  He turned around and made a move toward James, as if to mount
him again.

   Corrine commanded, "Satan!  BACK." And then she said, "Zeus!  MOUNT."

   Zeus leaped to his feet and bounded over to James.  He eagerly climbed
up on James' back, his paws scraping his sides, and began to violate him
with horny enthusiasm.

   James shrieked in protest as the animal claimed him as his bitch.

   "Satan!  PRESENT!" Corrine ordered.

   Satan shot around to the front and pressed his pelvis into James' face.

   "He wants you to suck his cock, James," Corrine said.  "If you don't,
it'll upset them all.  Who knows what King will do to your nipples or Zeus
to your ass?  And God forbid, what Brutus could do to your cock or your
balls.  Don't be stupid.  Just suck.  It's only a cock.  You've already
sucked so many.  What difference could one more possibly make?"

   James sobbed in defeat.  He obviously had no choice.  He took the
animal's penis in his mouth and began to suck, his nose buried in the dog's
furry belly.  The look of disgust on his face clearly said that he did not
enjoy the taste of the animal's gamey spunk.

   James' four-way doggie rape went on for some time.  Each dog took a turn
mounting their human bitch, and each one left a load of spunk in his
stomach.  Despite the terror of having a dog's mouth surrounding his cock,
James still managed to come, again and again.  Each time he climaxed, he
sobbed brokenly, appalled by his body's ability to take pleasure from such
degradation.  And yet, he couldn't manage to stay soft.  The constant
assault on his prostate kept making him hard.  As soon as his cock filled,
one of the dogs would pounce on it and immediately start sucking.  And
James would start screaming in terror all over again.

   After several hours of canine fun, Corrine finally called off the dogs.
They all retreated to their cages and waited obediently.  She came back
into the room and locked them in their pens again.  James lay curled on the
floor, shuddering, cradling his abused penis in his hand.  His asshole was
raw and ravaged, yawning open, come drooling from it.  His nipples were
purple and distended.  Dried doggy spunk caked at the corners of his mouth.

   Corrine knelt beside him and gently touched his shoulder.  He flinched
and pulled away.

   "My poor James," she said.

   "Why?" he asked, raggedly.

   "Why what, baby?"

   "Why did you do that to me?"

   She stroked his hair soothingly.  Glennis could sense his conflict.  A
part of him wanted nothing more than to reject Corrine's attentions, but a
stronger part of him desperately needed the consolation that came with a
woman's soft touch.

   Corrine continued to caress him, and he didn't pull away.

   "It wasn't me, baby.  I'm not the one who gets you into trouble," she
told him.  "It's *this*." She reached down and lightly squeezed his penis.

   He whimpered.

   "You know it's true," she said.  "That's what got you into this mess. 
That insatiable dick of yours.  You knew you weren't allowed to have it
touched, and yet, you couldn't help yourself, could you?"

   He cried harder.

   "You just had to get sucked.  But it didn't feel too good, did it?"

   He shook his head.

   "No, I'm sure it didn't.  But you came anyway, didn't you?"

   He sobbed.

   She stroked his shoulder.  "I know you did.  You just can't control
yourself.  That's why we have to control your cock for you.  So it doesn't
keep getting you into trouble.  You understand that, don't you?"

   He nodded, exhausted and suggestible, needing something to blame for his
humiliating ordeal.

   "Good.  That's very good." She kissed his forehead.  "You don't want to
get into any more trouble like this, do you, James?"

   "No!" he said, vehemently.

   "You hated it, didn't you?"

   "Uh-huh," he said, sniffling.

   "You don't ever want anything like this to happen to you again, do you?"

   He shook his head passionately.

   "That means you can't ever allow your cock to be touched again.  You
know that, right?"

   He nodded solemnly.

   "You don't even *want* your cock touched, do you, James?"

   "No!" He shuddered violently.

   "And wearing your chastity belt isn't so bad, is it?"

   "No.  Not so bad."

   "Maybe you even like it?"

   He thought a moment and then nodded.  "Yeah.  I do.  I like it."

   "Because you can't trust your cock."

   He shook his head sadly.  "No.  I can't."

   "Bad things happen to you because of it."

   A tear trickled down his cheek.  "*Really* bad things."

   "I know.  It's terrible.  It could really make you hate your cock,
couldn't it?"

   His lip trembled as he started to cry again.  "Yeah."

   "Say it, James.  Don't let it get the better of you."

   "I hate my cock," he whispered.

   "Say it louder.  Remember all the trouble it's caused you."

   "I *hate* my cock!" he declared.

   "You must have realized by now that you never would have ended up in
this place if it weren't for your penis.  How does that make you feel?"

   "I HATE MY FUCKING COCK!" he screamed, his face red, his body shaking.

   "That's good.  That's very, *very* good, James," Corrine told him, her
voice gentle and supportive.  "Now what do you want to do about it?"

   "I want to put my chastity belt back on," he said, with conviction.

   "Are you sure?"

   He nodded eagerly.  "I want my chastity belt.  It keeps me safe."

   "From your cock?"

   More tears streaked down his face.  "Uh-huh."

   Corrine cupped his cheek and wiped away the tears with her thumb. 
"Don't worry, James.  We're going to make sure your cock never gets you
into trouble again.  We'll help you keep it under control."

   "Thank you," he said, his voice quavering.

   She kissed him on top of the head as she stood up.  "We'll take care of
you, James.  I promise." She held out his chastity belt to him.  "Now,
let's get this back on you, shall we?"

   He nodded gratefully.  She took his hand and helped him to his feet.

   "Okay, James.  Here we go..."

   Glennis smiled and shook her head.  Corrine clearly deserved a bonus. 
The footage with the dogs would make a fine addition to the series of
videos she was releasing of James' odyssey to whoredom.  She couldn't even
begin to calculate the proceeds it would generate.  A man passionately
denouncing his own dick as the root of all evil was simply not something
you saw everyday.

   She skipped forward in the tape.  There was more footage of James'
sessions with his clients.  In some of them, he worked without his chastity
belt.  Glennis stopped to watch.  Occasionally, a customer would reach for
James' erection, and he would wail "No!" and jerk away as if the other man
were trying to kill him.  The training with the dogs had been a complete
success.  James had acquired a powerful aversion to having his penis
touched.  At the same time, he appeared to crave attention to his anus. 
Bradshaw and Corrine had even coaxed him into calling it his pussy.

   Glennis skipped forward a little further.  There was only one final step
in James' training before he became the perfect whore.  There was still one
thing that James feared, and a whore could never be scared of anything that
might happen to his body.  The trick was to turn that fear into desire, to
blur the line between pain and pleasure, to cultivate in James a sincere
appreciation for the most intimate and cruel punishment, to have him
begging for it, getting off on it.

   Glennis watched as Corrine and Bradshaw conducted his pain training.  It
was a simple game.  During James' reward sessions, Corrine would fuck him
with a dildo, and Bradshaw would paddle his balls.  James could stop at any
time, and he controlled how hard Bradshaw smacked his scrotum.  But the
paddling and fucking worked in tandem.  So if he asked for a lighter ball
paddling, then he also got a less gratifying workout with the dildo.

   Of course, at first James howled in agony at the least little swat to
his sack, making Bradshaw paddle him so gingerly that it was impossible for
him to come.  As James' sexual frustration grew, so did his courage.  With
each session, he grew a little tougher, until he was begging for more and
more extreme abuse, shrieking with blissful abandon as he climaxed, his
balls covered in black and blue marks.  Each orgasm reinforced his newly
found taste for ball torture.  Eventually, the link was fully forged in
James' brain.  Pain in his balls meant release, pleasure.  And so, he
begged like a little kid in a toy store to have his balls beaten.  After a
while, he could come from just that.

   Glennis watched with a feeling of finality.  This really was it, the
proof of what she'd felt that night after she'd taken him.  The proud,
arrogant man James had once been was gone forever, destroyed at her hands.
In his place was the submissive, masochistic whore his training had been
designed to create.

   She sighed as she stopped the tape and rewound it.  She got up from her
desk and went to the window.  The sun was beginning to set.  It was the
magic hour when everything looked its most beautiful.  Her property spanned
as far as the eye could see and much farther than that.  The gardens were
lush, the fields fertile.  It was her domain.  And it filled her with
pleasure and pride.

   Just as this magnificent success with James should have.  But she
couldn't help feeling empty.  It was finished.  It was perfect.  But what
she'd really wanted from him was impossible.  It always had been.  She
could see that now.

   She just didn't know how to be through with him.

   ***

   Several days later, Carter materialized out of the blue, back
from--wherever he'd been, doing God knows what, to some hapless officer of
the law.

   He grinned at her from the doorway.  "Am I allowed into the inner
sanctum?" he asked.

   "Not if you're going to be sarcastic."

   "Me?" he asked, innocently.

   "Oh, get in here.  You're starting to annoy me already."

   He laughed.  "That may be a record."

   "No.  I believe the record was in Bali when you managed to offend me
before we even said a word to one another."

   "For the zillionth time, I was *not* flirting with that woman at the
airport."

   "Of course, you were."

   "Glennis, you can't seriously believe I'd go to all the trouble of
meeting you halfway around the world only to--" He took a deep breath. 
"Never mind.  Never mind.  I don't want to argue about ancient history. 
Not when I dropped by to do something nice.  Here," he said, handing her a
videotape.  "I hope it will be very profitable for your charities."

   "What's this?"

   "Footage from my last project.  Just like I promised."

   She sat up straighter.  "You got the whole thing on video?"

   "The whole thing." He smiled at her winningly.

   "Is it good?"

   He looked offended.  "Of course, it's good.  What do you think I am?  An
amateur?"

   "Oh, please.  Don't even think about getting insulted.  You know I meant
the subject, not you.  Did he cry much?"

   "Like a baby."

   "Oh, that *is* good.  Grown men weeping always sells well."

   "Well, this guy should be a real winner then.  For a cop, he was quite
the drama queen.  When he lost his cherry, you would have sworn it was the
end of the world."

   "Did you do the honors?"

   "Of course.  You know that's my one rule with my crew.  I go first."

   She laughed.  "It's good to be the boss."

   He leaned back in his chair.  "It certainly is.  And how is your project
coming along?  Has James been reduced to a mere shadow of his former self?"

   "Quite," she told him.

   "I'd like to see," he said.

   "Really?"

   "Does that surprise you?  I did break him in.  I'd be fascinated to see
the end result of all your hard work."

   "Of course.  I'll call Bradshaw.  He can show you to the observation
room."

   "I was hoping you'd show me yourself."

   "Well--"

   "Come on, Glennis.  Please."

   He wasn't begging.  Carter never begged.  But he was asking in his most
earnest voice, the one she could never quite refuse.

   "Oh, all right," she gave in.  "I'll take you over there."

   She got up from her desk and led him out to the hall and down the
corridor.  It wasn't far to the studio where James was currently working.
She showed Carter into the observation room and closed the door behind
them.

   Today, James was entertaining a gang of inner city drug dealers.  He
straddled the lap of one of the hoodlums, impaling himself enthusiastically
on the kid's prodigious cock.  He greedily sucked another, slurping and
smacking his lips obscenely, as if the young thug's come was the best
tasting treat he'd ever had.

   "Yeah, bitch, suck that dick.  Get it down your throat," the kid said,
as he fucked James' face without mercy.

   The other gang members waited impatiently, rubbing themselves through
their pants as they watched.  They would all have their turn, again and
again, as many times as they wanted.  And when it was over, James would
still beg for more.

   Glennis sighed heavily.

   "You don't sound pleased," Carter noted.

   "I am," she said.  "I mean, it all came out exactly as I'd hoped.  It's
just--"

   "What?"

   "Oh, you know how it is.  It's destroying a person's will that's
entertaining.  Once you've completely broken them and they'll do anything
you want, no matter how painful and disgusting it is, because they're so
degraded they no longer know any better-- Well, it's just not interesting
any more.  You know what I mean?"

   "You know I never keep them that long.  I just fuck them up and put them
back."

   "I don't suppose you'd like to try something new, would you?  You could
have him, as a thank you gift for all you've done to help make the project
a success.  It might be a nice change of pace, having a cop around to abuse
whenever you like."

   "That's very generous," he said.  "But I've already had my fun with
James.  Nothing could ever compare to taking his cherry."

   "Yes, well, I can see how you'd feel that way.  I guess I could always
sell him.  I mean, there have to be any number of brothels who'd be
interested in a submissive cop slut who begs johns to fuck his pussy and
beat his balls."

   Carter laughed.  "No doubt." And then he asked curiously, "So why don't
you?  Why do you keep him around?"

   "I don't know."

   "Don't you?"

   "Please don't go all psychoanalytical on me.  I can't take it."

   "Fine.  Don't tell me then."

   "Fine.  I wasn't planning to, anyway."

   "It's not as if I don't know already."

   "You don't know anything," she told him.

   "Don't I?"

   "No," she insisted.  "How could you?"

   "Do you really think it's all that difficult to guess?  For someone who
knows you as well as I do?"

   "I have work to do," she said, in her most chilly voice.

   She started for the door.  He grabbed her wrist.

   "James forced himself on working girls.  And sometimes on women he only
presumed to be working girls.  That's what you said at the auction.  Now, I
don't believe you were ever a prostitute.  But I do know you haven't always
been this fabulously wealthy.  I imagine there was a time when life was
pretty hard.  So it makes sense that you somehow ended up in a situation
where he mistook you for something you weren't."

   She could feel all the blood leaving her face.  "If you ever tell
anyone--" she threatened.

   The force on her wrist relented.  His touch turned gentle, his fingers
stroking her skin.

   "I'm not going to do that," he said.  "You should know by now I don't
want to hurt you."

   She swallowed hard.  She wasn't sure if she knew anything of the sort.
But she found herself telling him the story anyway.

   "I was a virgin," she said.

   "I'm sorry," he told her.

   "He doesn't remember me.  Not even after everything I've put him
through."

   "Is that what you wanted?  For him to remember?"

   She lowered her eyes.  "I don't know," she lied.  She had no intention
of confessing to him or anyone else the very un-Fury-like ideas she'd
entertained about James.  "I just wanted-- something."

   "I know how that feels."

   "He laughed at me," she said.  "That night.  As he was walking away."

   "They laughed at me, too.  I still remember the way it sounded, echoing
off the walls of the cell."

   "Getting revenge didn't make that go away?" she asked.

   He shook his head.  "Not for me."

   "I don't understand.  It's supposed to make everything better.  After it
happened, I promised myself I'd get even if I ever had enough power.  And
then-- well, everything changed for me, and I could do anything I wanted.
And this was supposed to be my crowning achievement."

   "But it didn't turn out that way."

   She shook her head.  "He still doesn't remember what happened.  He made
a lasting impression on me, and I was just some faceless fuck to him."

   "Hey, at least he'll never forget you now."

   "That's true," she said.

   "So maybe it's time that *you* forgot *him*."

   "I guess," she said.  "Carter--" She broke off.

   "What?"

   She frowned.  "Do you ever think about getting out of the retribution
business?"

   "Not really.  You?"

   "This thing with James has given me doubts."

   "You're not really going to let him ruin your life's work, are you?"

   She hesitated.  "I guess not."

   "You know what I think would be the best thing in the world to take your
mind off all this?"

   "What?"

   "A new project."

   "You think?"

   He nodded.  "I do."

   "I don't know."

   "It'll put some distance between you and James.  Give you a fresh
perspective.  Maybe then you'll be ready to auction him off to some lucky
pleasure house.  Imagine how much money that would raise for your
foundation.  Think of the runaways and single mothers and all the other
people you could help with it."

   She perked up a little.  "I like the sound of that."

   "And you'll have the satisfaction of knowing that James will be spending
the rest of his life in enforced servitude, the hapless plaything of
sadists and perverts.  That ought to make you feel better."

   "It's certainly a start."

   "And I have the perfect project to take your mind off things."

   "Really?"

   "Something we can work on together."

   "Carter--"

   He held up his hand.  "At least let me tell you what it is before you
say no.  I promise you'll find it interesting."

   She sighed heavily.  "All right.  I'll listen.  But don't take that as
agreeing to work with you."

   He grinned.  "Not to worry, Glennie.  I've learned by now never to take
anything for granted where you're concerned."

   "I hope you're not going to start irritating me again."

   "Me?  Never.  Now, do you want to hear about the project or not?"

   "I suppose I could listen."

   He laughed.  "And people say you're not gracious."

   She folded her arms over her chest and gave him the *look*.

   "All right, all right," he said.  "So, there's a warden at a women's
prison in Texas.  It seems he's been running his own little prostitution
ring with the inmates he supervises, having johns come into the prison and
do the girls right in their cells.  Of course, the women aren't given a
choice in the matter.  There are no condoms, no birth control of any sort.
The women who get pregnant are forced to have abortions in the prison
infirmary.  And there's nothing to keep them from getting HIV."

   "That's *terrible*," she said, feeling the familiar and comforting
indignation stirring in her Fury's blood.

   "It gets even worse.  Most of the women are mothers.  But they're not
allowed to have any contact with their families, so the warden can protect
his secret and continue growing rich."

   "This bastard has to be stopped."

   "Clearly," Carter agreed.

   "He has to be taught a lesson."

   "I know.  So will you help me do it?" he asked.

   "I don't know if that's--" she said, hesitantly.

   "Come on.  You know you want to," Carter coaxed.

   "Who'd be in charge of the project?" she asked, warily.

   "Neither of us.  We'd have to compromise."

   "I don't really do that."

   "I know.  Neither do I.  But we could learn, don't you think?"

   "I honestly don't know," she told him.

   "We could find out."

   "I suppose."

   "Come on, Glennis.  I realize this could be a disaster of epic
proportions.  But if it works?  If we actually figure out how to work
together as partners?  There isn't anything we wouldn't be able to do.  No
one who would be out of our reach."

   "That could be exciting."

   He smiled.  "To say the least."

   "I guess we could give it a try."

   "Let's go back to your office, and I'll tell you everything you want to
know about the naughty warden."

   "All right," she said, letting him put his arm around her shoulders and
guide her to the door.  "But this doesn't mean I've made up my mind or
anything."

   "I never thought it did."

   "Just as long as we understand each other."

   They bickered all the way back to her office, leaving the observation
room abandoned, the door ajar.  On the other side of the glass, James just
went on fucking and fucking and fucking...

   THE END

   THE END
   kali_mother@yahoo.com