THE USUAL WARNINGS:  

This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind.  If you are 
offended by graphic sexual descriptions of natural and/or 
unnatural acts, or if you are underage, don't read any 
further. 

This story is a fantasy.  You have to loosen your clench on 
reality a little when you read it.  As is the case with 
most stories in this newsgroup, in this story all the women 
are beautiful; gravity has never touched their breasts nor 
wrinkles their unblemished faces; the men (the hero in this 
story, at least) are hung like bulls and can get it up and 
keep it up at will; there are no STDs, morals, or unwanted 
pregnancies; and guilt is a four letter word.  Most of all, 
strength of character doesn’t stand a chance against any 
erotic stimulus, which can be as benign as a glance.  This 
is a tale in which physical acts and human responses are 
not limited to, nor necessarily based in, reality.  Some 
acts and responses in this story may be physically 
impossible or physiologically improbable.  That being said, 
stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy.

This story is intended for the salacious entertainment of 
consenting adults.  Do not try to do any of the things 
described in this story.  You will injure yourself or your 
partner.  Or be arrested, or shot by her father....

If you are under 18 years of age, go away.  This story will 
burn your eyeballs and fry your brain. 

If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited where 
you are, go away.

By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility for 
any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure that 
result from reading this story.  

You have been warned!

If you’re going to repost this, give me credit for it.  If 
you’re going to charge for others to read this, give me 
credit and some money, too.  Fair’s fair, no?

That said, enjoy!....? 

NightShade


















The President's Club,  Chapter 7

by NightShade

first posted 4/97, revised 12/98

Standing up suddenly, he deposited her unceremoniously on 
the floor.  "Stay there!" he said commanded.

Karin smiled to herself, the tingles starting already.  Her 
man was back to normal.  Or what passed as normal for their 
relationship.  She didn't want him to be gentle when he 
needed to be rough.  That just made him confused.  There 
would be a lot time for gentleness - for 'normal' sex - 
later, she was sure.  Right now, she wanted him to be her 
master, her tormentor. 

Sam walked over to a pile of equipment in the back of the 
room and selected several items.  Coming back to where she 
sat on the floor, he gave her a single hand motion.  She 
stood.  He led her out onto the wide porch across the front 
of the cabin.  A twirling of his finger and she turned to 
face away from him.  She had tried to read his face to see 
what was coming, but he had kept all expression off his 
face.  He had also kept his body between her eyes and the 
equipment in his hand.  Karin sighed and tried to relax, 
but the excitement kept her dancing from foot to foot.  

“Stay still, slave!  I’m not going to chase you around the 
room.”

She grinned to herself, teasing him with her swaying hips.  
An unfamiliar ‘whoosh’ preceded an incredible stinging pain 
on her buttocks.  She yowled and grasped her burning ass 
cheeks with both hands.  Her eyes were squeezed shut, 
trying to block out the pain.  

Roughly, one of her wrists was grabbed and pulled away from 
her soothing efforts.  He fastened a thick, wide cuff 
around the wrist and laced it on.  It was more like a 
bowling glove with a thumbhole but the thumb and palm 
exposed.  That hand was dropped and the other fitted with a 
similar glove.

He reached behind him and pulled over one of the benches 
that lined the porch.  He manhandled her until she was 
standing on the bench.  Because of her height, her head was 
close to one of the large crossbeams that held up the roof.  
He stood on the chair behind her.  A brief squeeze of his 
arms around her reassured her.  She closed her eyes as she 
leaned back into him.  The moment passed quickly.

He shuffled her forward until she was on the end of the 
bench.  He lifted her right arm up and out.  He hooked a 
ring on the back of the gloves to a clip on the outermost 
crossbeam. She had not noticed the rings on the gloves.  
Her arm was stretched out wide to the side and to the 
front.  Her left hand was raised and clipped, her arm 
stretched out wide to the other side.  Satisfied she was 
secure, Sam stepped down off the low bench and retrieved 
another piece of equipment.  She felt him step back up 
behind her.

He ran his hands up her exposed sides deliberately, feeling 
each rib carefully as he advanced up and around towards the 
undersides of her tits.  The air she took into her lungs 
went no farther down than his hands.  By the time he 
lightly touched the bottom of her breasts she could barely 
breathe.  Her breath was coming in short gasps.  He kissed 
the top of each bare shoulder until she calmed down.  
Reluctantly taking his hands from her chest, he pulled her 
hair back, tilting her face up.  Her mouth dropped open.

He gently inserted a large rubber ball into her mouth.  It 
was the same one he had used the night before.  He had 
fashioned it into a ballgag now.  He pulled the ends behind 
her neck and tied them tight.  Her mouth was stuffed.  He 
could feel her groaning now that the gag was in place, but 
he could hear nothing.  

Sam stepped down off the bench.  He walked around in front 
of her, going down the two steps to the ground to do so.  
Her hips were at shoulder height.  He grasped her around 
her waist, lifted her feet off the bench and slowly lowered 
her until she was holding her weight entirely by her gloved 
wrists.  Her bare feet dangled several inches off the 
ground and out away from the floor of the porch.  If she 
had been aware of it, she had a beautiful view down the 
mountain towards a deep blue lake in the distance.  

He walked back into the cabin, mostly to calm himself.  
Something about seeing her that way excited him in a way 
nothing else had.  And he hadn’t even started whipping her 
yet.  Just the one stripe of the riding crop crossed her 
perfect white hemispheres.  He had to get himself under 
control, or he could easily hurt her, leave a permanent 
scar.  He had, in the passed, left his ‘mark’ on a special 
woman or two.  But it wasn’t a scar caused by a poorly 
wielded whip.  He picked up his pipe.  He hadn’t finished 
smoking it, as he had been interrupted, albeit, not rudely.

Sitting down in his chair he looped his legs over the arm 
so that he was looking out the door of the cabin.  He re-
lit the old pipe, gazing quietly out the door as the 
aromatic smoke filled the cabin and beyond, calming him.  
The sight of the naked girl hanging from the roof of his 
porch pleased him.  He had dreamed of doing this, but had 
never done it before.  The imagery of whipping a naked 
woman hanging exposed to the wide outdoors appealed to his 
sense of the twisted and the absurd.  It was fantasy come 
to life.  One of his oldest and dearest.

He knocked his pipe against his palm when it was empty to 
clear the bowl.  Thoughtfully he put it back in the sealed 
humidor to protect it from drying out in the thin mountain 
air.  The moisture-tight seal closed with a ‘click’.

Karin heard him move away from her, leaving her hanging by 
her wrists.  She was thankful he had used the wide cuffs.  
The extra width and strong lacing provided support over a 
greater area and didn’t cut off the blood flow.  She 
wiggled her fingers occasionally, and couldn’t sense any 
signs of circulatory distress.  She had heard him move 
away, then there was silence.  For a while, the only sounds 
she could hear were the sounds of her body, her heart 
beating, the blood whistling through her aorta, the 
gurgling of gas.  Then she heard the birds calling out, but 
buzzing of the millions of insects.  She heard the 
underbrush rustle as something slithered or crawled nearby.  
The sun heated the board in the roof and they cracked with 
expansion.  The world of nature, when you get out away from 
the city, is a noisy place.

She had smelled the smoke from his pipe as it drifted out 
the cabin door.  Its sweet pungent odor enveloped her mind, 
giving her visions of golden forests, crisp autumn walks 
hand-in-hand, cheerleaders and football games.  The 
invisible tendrils of smoke wove their magic in her brain, 
binding her tighter to her mystery man.  

The ‘click’ of the humidor in the silent mountain air 
sounded like a gunshot.  He was moving again!  She braced 
herself as best she could, but she had no idea what was 
coming.  Only that one stoke that still burned across her 
butt.  

Her arms ached now, the muscles and tendons being stretched 
more than usual.  She tried not to kick her feet as any 
motions tormented her already stressed shoulders and arms.  
She strained to hear him, to find out where he was, and 
perhaps that way get an idea of what he was going to do.

Sam slipped off his loafers, then his socks.  The cool 
stone of the cabin floor felt good against his feet.  The 
bare wood on the porch itched a little as he stepped 
quietly out of the cabin.  He wasn’t intending to sneak up 
on her.  He knew that after a while, the pain would focus 
the mind, much like meditation.  He did not want to disturb 
Karin’s focus.  Just yet.

When nothing happened and no sounds were made to give away 
his position, Karin’s mind wandered to the scene in front 
of her.  She saw the lake in the distance more clearly than 
ever before.  The trees were so clear; she could see each 
needle, each leaf, and each branch.  She saw the tiny 
animals; the ones no one ever saw because they never moved 
if they thought you were there.  Their tiny bodies darted 
back and forth, as if they needed to be in two places at 
once.  She wondered at the color of their fur, puzzling 
that it looked so soft and...

RED!!!!  

Karin shook her head.  Where did that come from?  She 
looked back up at the pink clouds.  There were red tinges 
to all the leaves.  What was...

WHITE!!!!

Now the sunlight reflecting off the shimmering leaves left 
white spots in her eyes.  Karin’s dulled pain receptors 
were coming back on line, but her mind was fighting it.  
The colors were too pretty.  She had never seen such vivid 
colors before.  The REDS!!! and GREENS!!!! and BLUES!!!! 
filled her mind with rainbows.

On the sixth stroke, she heard the soft ‘whoosh’ just 
before the supple crop caressed the bottom crease of her 
ass, just above her thighs.  A trickle of pain leaked 
through the rainbows.  It was the beginning of the dam 
breaking.  She struggled to hold on to the various colors, 
and managed to find a couple images she could retain.  
These she wrapped in her memory, holding them tight as her 
lover covered her naked exposed bottom with stripe after 
burning stripe.  

When he could stand it no longer, he moved behind her and 
thrust his steel shaft into her compliant anus.  She did 
not resist him, but he used no lubrication except the sweat 
that dripped down her back and into her ass crack.  It was 
insufficient to ease his way.  He forced his way into her 
burning ass one centimeter at a time.  He went slowly, 
almost leisurely.  There was no hurry now, no urgency.  
There was no need to conquer, no reason to hurt.  What was 
important was to possess this woman completely.  

When he was finally inside her to the hilt, he fucked in 
and out of her clasping hole.  He was not necessarily 
gentle, but he did not want to tear her apart either.  He 
grunted into her ear when he came, filling her back passage 
with his spunk.  He wasn’t sure if she came or not.  It 
wasn’t important right then.

He pulled out with a soft ‘plok’.  The acrid smell of feces 
drifted up between them.  He grinned, thinking that he 
would always think of this moment when he took a shit from 
now on.  It was not an unpleasant prospect.

He retrieved the riding crop from where it lay.  Karin was 
back in her own world now.  The ass-fuck had not hurt her, 
not like it could have.  She had not found this one that 
enjoyable, but she was there for his pleasure.  She cried a 
little when she felt him spurt his seed in her rectum, 
because now he would leave her.  She didn’t fear what would 
come next.  She just missed him inside her.

She was not aware of the stripes rising along her back 
until they reached her kidneys.  She was being thoroughly 
flayed as he worked his way up her back.  By the time he 
had reached the midpoint, he was hard again, hard enough to 
take her.  He methodically finished pummeling her back from 
her sacrum to the shoulders.

He dropped the whip and entered her once more.  This time 
his prior deposit eased his entry.  This time he did not 
hold back.  His fucking was frenzied, frantic, maniacal.  
He was a madman, a throwback to earlier times.  He grunted 
and howled as he took his pleasure in her hanging, beaten 
body.  The primitive urges that overtook him would have 
shamed him at any other time.  They were the urges that 
civilization made laws against, to prevent moral decay.  
These urges he vented on her defenseless body until, once 
again he released his cum into her with a howl that set the 
hairs on her arms on end.  It was the call of the wild and 
she responded to it.

Karin had felt the blows coming higher on her back and had 
flipped her head back and forth.  Not in pain, but to clear 
her long hair from her back, giving him a clear shot.  She 
urged him on, willed him to sate himself on her body, in 
her body.  She did not feel the pain anymore, not even the 
aches in her arms.  She could feel the thud and hear the 
slap as the crop landed solidly on her back, but there was 
no stinging pain.  She knew in the back of her mind that 
her brain had shut down to protect itself, but she wondered 
why she was still conscious.  Who could she ask who would 
know?

When he entered her a second time, she was ready for him.  
She relaxed her anus as much as she could to ease his 
entry.  She pushed back as much as she could with each 
forward thrust of his pelvis.  When he came, so did she, in 
a satisfying quiet flutter of her pelvic muscles.  In a 
way, it was the best orgasm she had ever had.  It had been 
for his pleasure, and because of his pleasure.  It pleased 
her that he had found satisfaction in her again.

Sam stood back and looked at the figure hanging there.  In 
the dying light of the day, the red blotches looked less 
angry, the raised purple welts looked black.  As he took a 
moment from answering the call of the primitive urges, he 
examined her back and buttocks for breaks.  There were 
none.  She would hurt, but she would not be scarred.

In the silence, he moved up behind her.  His intentions 
were just to hold her, to quiet her down, then, perhaps, if 
she would have him, make love to her.  He had had his 
fantasy.  And more.  He reached around her and held her 
lightly, not putting too much pressure on her inflamed 
back.  

Karin felt him there.  She knew, somehow, he was not 
finished.  There was more in him, more anger, darkness, 
something.  He needed to release it, to find his limits, 
too.  To relish the release of his dark side, and savor the 
taste of it.  She needed it, too.  She felt his limp cock 
up against her butt.  It took every ounce of will power and 
muscle control she had, but she pressed her tender ass back 
against that slick smelly cock.  Slowly she enticed it to a 
turgid state, half hard, half soft.  Feeling her efforts 
paying off, she redoubled them, becoming almost frantic, 
begging for more from him.  He left tears on her shoulders 
as he moved back from behind her.

There was no place else to attack her luscious body but in 
the backs but her legs.  He was not unfamiliar with 
whipping lower limbs, but he was tired.  He needed to be 
extra careful not to hit the tendons in the backs of her 
knees.  He decided the best approach was to go down one, 
the back up the other.  So he beat her that way, using a 
backhand/forehand cycle.  Only the fastest moving part of 
the riding crop, the tip, met her taut flesh.  Deep red 
welts rose up in a herring bone pattern down one thigh, 
across the knee, down her long calf to her heel.  

His cock was hard again, much to his amazement.  He had 
never been able to perform like this.  She incited him, 
inflamed him, inflated him as no one had.  He was beyond 
his fantasies now.  Her remaining unblemished skin drove 
him on like an unfinished work of art.  Meticulously he 
matched the stokes on the first leg, duplicating them in 
reverse order on the other.  He ended with two stokes, one 
to her outer thigh, the other splashing in the flow of cum, 
her cum, running down her legs.

Throwing the crop out into the clearing in front of the 
cabin, he took her again.  Again, he took her in the ass.  
This time he took her soul, her very being and made it 
sing.  They moved together, joined in that obscene, 
depraved union until he emitted his essence into her once 
more.  He stayed embedded within her long after he had cum, 
her compressions and spasms holding him captive.  She 
seemed to cum forever, the spastic clenching on his raw 
prick seeming beg him for more.  They stayed together like 
that until he realized she had fallen asleep, hanging from 
her wrists on the front porch.  He pulled out of her still-
clasping anus, sat down on the rough-hewn floor, and 
watched his lady love drift into dreamless sleep.  

It had been better than any fantasy he had ever had.  He 
tipped his head back against the wall of the cabin, deep in 
thought.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

End of chapter

I hope you enjoyed it.    :)

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     /pub/authors/NightShade/

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