Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 An Interview with an Erotic Writer

   My name is Phil Wilder.  I write mostly erotica, but I have a few
stories that are published that are milder fare.  But what attracts most
people to my work is the kinky sex and sometimes-brutal violence that is
displayed in my works.  Most writers seem to want to give their readers a
happy ending, but I just don't find that realistic.  That is not the way
life works.  Oh, sure occasionally a fireman will arrive in time to save a
child or an adult from a burning building or automobile, but I believe
those are the exceptions not the rules.

   And so today, the local book critic, Angela Hayward, is interviewing me.
I am not sure why I agreed to the interview.  I am quite sure that she is
going to try to paint me as a monster and to discredit my work.  But, there
is an old saying that bad publicity is better than no publicity.  So I
figured even if I came off looking bad in the interview, my name would
still get out to more people.

   I guess we are getting ready to start as her assistant is heading my
way. "Mr.  Wilder," she starts.  "Please follow me and we will get you
miked up and a little make up to soften the glare.  She seated me on a tall
stool and shortly a technician came and clipped a microphone on my collar
and had me test it.  At the same time someone was applying powder to my
cheeks and forehead.

   When they were satisfied, I was led over to what appeared to be a living
room on the set and seated in a plush leather chair.  I did not have long
to wait, before Angela came in offered her hand.  I took it and shook it
gently.  I immediately noticed that she wore a wedding band.  We exchanged
pleasantries and then she sat down across from me.  The chairs were
arranged in an intimate setting so that there was just room enough between
us at an angle so that if one or both of us crossed our legs we would not
bump into the other person.

   Angela then asked if there were any ground rules that I wanted to lay
out.

   "Like what?" I asked.

   "Well, is there any subjects that you are uncomfortable discussing with
me today?  Is there anything that you want off limits?"

   "Well, if I told you all the things I am uncomfortable discussing, this
would be a very short interview.  I have a feeling that you have a lot of
questions that will disturb me.  But, no, you can ask me anything and I
will try to answer you to the best of my ability.  Only if you get into
some area that might get me into legal trouble will I decline."

   "Ok, then, this is not a live interview so if something comes up that
you do not want to discuss, the tape can be altered later.  So then let's
begin."

   The cameras were started and the microphones turned on and the action
signal was given.

   "Good evening, America, my name is Angela Hayward and I am here tonight
with best selling erotic author, Phillip Wilder.  He has graciously agreed
to discuss some of his more controversial works."

   "Mr.  Wilder, let me ask you why you write in the style that you do?"

   "Could you be a little more specific, Angela?  What style are you
referring to?"

   "Well, it seems to me that the main characters in your books do not fair
too well.  For instance in Addicted to High Heels or a Slave to My Wife's
Boots, you left us with the impression that the male lead was going to live
a life of misery and again in Cruel Wife, Slave Husband there was little
doubt that the husband was going to be totally destroyed."

   "Well, thank you for spoiling the suspense for my readers.  But if you
want happy endings perhaps you should be reading fairy tales and not my
books.  I don't believe much in happy endings.  I write dominant-submissive
books for the most part and there are plenty of other authors that write
about willing submissives without me joining in the ranks.  Personally, I
find nothing exciting about a man that willing submits to being abused by
his wife.  I don't even believe that is realistic.  Sure, there are
probably some men that would not mind being a cuckold and some women that
would do it just to please their husbands, but to me that is simply not
exciting."

   "Let me understand you," Angela breaks in.  "Are you saying that you
write to be realistic?  If that is the case then perhaps I can take this
interview in a different direction."

   "I don't know how realistic some of the things, I write about are
because I have never experienced the vast majority of them.  Some of the
milder things do come from my own experiences but even those have been
spiced up.  If all I wrote about was things that happened in my life, my
readers would be bored to death and I would not be able to pay my
mortgage."

   "Fair enough, but I doubt your life has been that sheltered.  But let's
talk about realism.  In Internet Sex Slaves and Cruel Wife you have
whipping scenes.  Have you ever whipped a woman or yourself been whipped?"

   I smile at Angela and hesitate to form my reply.  "No, I have not, but I
would like to.  Would you like to volunteer?"

   "Lord, no and this interview is not about me, but about you."

   "Well, that seems hardly fair.  Haven't you ever wanted to know what it
is like to be tied up and disciplined?"

   "Frank, stop the tape.  "Mr.  Wilder, please refrain from asking me
questions.  This interview is about you and your books not about me and my
life."

   "Look, you asked me a question about my real life.  I understood that
this interview was about my books and writing style, so if you are going to
ask questions about my real life then I think it is only fair if I can do
the same with you.  And what is the big deal, you already told me that you
can edit out what you want from the tape so why not be a little honest with
me?"

   "I can edit out what is on the tape, but you do realize there are real
live people in the room.  Such as the man who runs the camera, the sound
people, makeup people and stage crew.  Maybe I don't want them knowing my
private life."

   "So it is ok, if the entire world knows about my life, but yours has to
remain private from a few?"

   "I can see that this is not going to work out.  I am sorry if we wasted
your time but I think we might as well pack up our equipment and call it a
day."

   "I am sorry you feel that way.  I think we were just getting acquainted
with one another.  May I offer a suggestion?"

   "Sure, go ahead," Angela, replied.

   "Why don't you do the interview with just the two of us.  You can have a
recorder running and later you can edit out what you don't like.  That way
I can get a better idea of what it is that you like or dislike about my
books and you can paint me in any light that makes you happy."

   "That might work if this was radio, but it is television.  No one wants
to sit through a segment with me just talking about what we discussed. 
They want to see you and your reactions to the questions."

   "You mean they want to see me squirm, don't you?  Is there going to be a
happy ending for me in this interview?"

   She laughed and said, "Probably not.  I really wish there was some way
that we could complete this.  I have a feeling that you are a very
interesting man."

   "Well, why don't you just start over where you left off?  If, I ask you
something you don't like, just refuse to answer it or do what all women do,
lie?"

   "Wow, you do have a low opinion of women, don't you?"

   "I have a low opinion of humans in general," I said.

   "Ok, Frank go ahead and roll the tape from where we left off.  Mr. 
Wilder to answer your question, no I have never had any desire to be tied
up and whipped.  But you say that you do have the desire to whip a woman,
why?"

   "Well, I think it would be interesting, no that is not the right word,
stimulating is more like it, to be able to inflict pain on someone and to
know that only I can grant them mercy.  Not a good answer perhaps but it is
an honest one."

   "Then would you like to be whipped, like some of the men in your books
are whipped?"

   "Oh, tough question.  I don't know if I would like it.  Those women in
my books are so dog gone cruel.  I am not sure that I could survive what
they do to their men.  But, yes, I would like to have a woman tie me up,
gag me so that I was helpless and whip me?  Do you know anyone that would
like to volunteer for that duty?"

   "I am sure there are plenty of dominatrix that you could hire."

   "Ah, but see that is one of those legal areas we talked about earlier. I
am sure that would be viewed as solicitation of prostitution services.  And
besides, that is just play-acting.  If I was going to go through the pain
and recovery, I would want it to be real."

   I could see her skin flush and I knew deep down that she was imagining
what it would be like to mark a man's back and buttocks with a whip.  Even
her breath was coming a little bit faster and I wondered if the audience
could sense the change as well.

   "I think we need to move on to another area.  A lot of your books have
the act of licking boots in them, why is that?"

   "Ah, this should be truly humiliating for me.  I guess that is my
greatest fantasy.  I have always been fascinated by women's high-heels and
boots."

   "You say always, how far back does that go?"

   "Wow, another tough question.  The first time I can remember being
attracted in that way to a woman's shoes was when I was about 5."

   "I don't even want to go there, but do you actually lick women's boots?"


   "Yes, every chance I get, which is not nearly as often as I would like.
When I was married, my wife indulged me in that perversity but after she
left me, I haven't found anyone that shares that interest."

   "I am amazed that you have not caught some deadly disease from that
practice.  Don't you worry about where the woman has walked?  Or do you
only lick shoes that have not been worn outside?"

   Let's take your first assumption that I should have caught some type of
deadly disease for ingesting something from a woman's boots.  I am not sure
which comedian it was that said that his immune system was improved because
he swam in the East River, which at the time was little more than a sewer.
Well maybe my immune system has improved from the practice of licking
boots.

   And as far as sticking to boots that have not been worn outside: "Oh,
heavens that would spoil the entire experience.  Part of the excitement is
not knowing where she has walked.  What fun would it be to lick a pair of
clean boots?  For instance, the pair you are wearing are too highly
polished for my taste.  Of course the soles probably would be dirty enough
to give me pleasure."

   Her face flushed a deep shade of red and I am sure if she had held a
whip at that moment she would have used it on me.

   "Well, another subject that went off in the wrong direction.  Let's talk
about cuckolding."

   "All right then, another of my favorite subjects.  Do you also find that
to be fascinating?"

   "Of course not but it is a theme in almost every book you write so I
figured it held some special meaning for you.  I don't want to embarrass
anyone else so I am going to refrain from asking about your personal
experience, but why do you write about it in the way your do?  Most other
authors that broach the subject, it is always the male's idea and the wife
is reluctant.  But in your books the wife always uses it as punishment,
why?"

   "Again, it goes back to the idea of happy endings.  I suppose there may
be a few isolated instances of a husband encouraging his wife to sleep with
another man where it ends up happily for both of them.  But, I doubt that
happens very often.  Some women have casual sex and form no other
attachment than physical.  But, I assume that for the majority if they had
sex more than a couple times with another individual they would form some
emotional attachment to him.  She would then have to make a decision as to
which man she liked better.  And there is the other aspect, which is
respect.  I believe it would be very hard for a woman to respect a man that
would willingly share her with another person, male for female."

   "So then you would not want a woman to cuckold you?"

   "Absolutely not, I would hate it with every fiber of my being?"

   "Then why do you write about it?"

   "Because it is exciting.  My readers get off on it.  A lot of people are
cruel by nature and they want to read about someone having their life torn
apart.  They want the guy to be destroyed.  And truthfully that excites me
as well."

   "Wow, you really do have a sadistic side, don't you?"

   "Of course, I do.  One subject that you have not broached is that of
betrayal.  I absolutely love the idea of people betrayed and hurt by those
they love most.  In Tales of Betrayal you will notice I have included the
very dearest of relationships to tear apart.  A wife betraying her husband,
a husband betraying his wife, a woman betrayed by her friend and
mother-in-law and a man betrayed by his entire family led by his mother.  I
loved writing those stories because frankly it is almost impossible to be
able to find stories like that."

   "Oh, I almost forgot, in Cruel Wife, Slave Husband you introduced the
idea of chastity.  Have you ever been subjected to that practice?"

   "No, but I have done the two ring system for keeping an erection.  It
really works but it is extremely painful.  I don't recommend it to others
but I found it to be wonderfully painful.  My only problem was that I had
the opportunity to take it off whenever I wanted and so I did not get the
complete effect.  Of course maybe that was better since I have no idea how
long a man can keep an erection without having permanent damage done.  As
far as the chastity idea, I can see the fascination.  I know being excited
and not being able to touch myself is extremely pleasurable.  I have never
tried a chastity tube but that I think might be different.  If you cannot
fully attain erection it might not be as satisfying."

   "So are you working on any other books at this time?"

   "I am kind of in between ideas right now.  I am always swirling ideas
around in my head and I imagine something will pop out eventually.  There
are so many topics that I would like to write about but seem to be off
limits to society today."

   "Really, like what?"

   "Oh, I never write about actual rape, although it fascinates me.  I just
don't know how much of my audience would go along with my idea that the
woman could never enjoy the act.  I hate it when someone writes about a
woman being attacked and her body always betrays her and she gets all wet
and has multiple orgasms.  Maybe I will write a story about a rape
counselor so I can get to hear all the horror stories direct from the
woman's mouth and I might even throw in a twist where the counselor gets
excited by making the woman believe she was to blame for the attack.

   And then there is incest.  I love that topic but it is pretty taboo with
the mainline press.  And of course women with animals would be a great
subject but again hard to get published."

   "Dear god, you are truly disgusting.  Aren't you afraid that you will
lose your readers from this interview?"

   "No, quite the opposite.  I think they will flock to see what added
degradation I can dream up."

   The interview was over and I was escorted off the set.  Angela did shake
my hand but she did not have much enthusiasm in doing so.  I could tell
that she had not found our exchange of ideas to her liking.  But as I left
I did catch several of the female employees following me with their eyes. I
did not know if that was because deep down they had some desires that
related to my books, or if they just wanted to make sure they recognized me
so if we ever met again they could avoid me.

   I went back to writing and did not give much thought to what had
transpired with Angela or her crew.  I was somewhat anxious to see what the
interview would do to my sales once it aired.  What I did not consider is
how others I knew would react.

   I was informed about when the interview would air but I did not bother
to watch it.  I figured that Angela would paint me in the worst possible
light and watching it would not change anything.

   After the Interview

   It wasn't hard to tell exactly when the interviewed aired on television.
First I received a call from my ex-wife complaining that I had aired our
dirty laundry, or in this case dirty boots in front of the entire world.

   "What in hell were you thinking telling the whole world that I let you
lick my filthy boots?  Do you have any idea how bad that makes me look in
front of my friends?" she asked.

   "Quite the contrary.  I figure that since all you hang out with are
feministas that you should be even more attractive to them.  I am sure they
love the idea of you forcing your former husband to his knees."

   "When I had you on your knees I should have used the opportunity to
stomp your worthless balls into dust."

   "Oh, dear, it makes me hard just thinking of it." And she slammed the
phone down.

   I decided to go out for the evening and get a few drinks to see what
other reactions I might get.  The bar is dark as I open the door.  Most
bars are poorly illuminated.  I always figured that was because people
preferred to do stupid things in low lighted areas but in actuality it is
because someone scientist did a study on rats.  Yes, I said rats.  It seems
that he found that rats would drink more in low light than in brightly lit
areas.  So owners of establishments that served alcohol figured that they
could get their customers to follow the example of rodents and lowered the
amount of light.

   I studied the room carefully looking for a place to sit.  It was a
Friday evening and so the bar was quite crowded.  I really preferred to sit
at the bar as occupying a table all by myself seemed to be counter
productive.  I had almost given up when I noticed a young couple rise from
their seats.  As the man put a few bills on the bar and started to leave
with his companion, I made my way to that location and took the seat he had
vacated.

   It took a few minutes for the bartender to get to my location and I
spent the time surveying the room.  There was a small dance floor, pretty
much in the middle of the room, but only two couples were utilizing it. 
The pool tables in the far corner were all occupied.  The jukebox was
bellowing out something about friends in low places and I figured that I
would fit right in.

   When I got the opportunity I ordered a bourbon and ginger ale and took a
small sip.  I really did not want to get hammered but I definitely wanted
to feel a little buzz.  As I sipped my drink, I checked out the women, not
so much in the hopes of finding someone to hook up with, but more because I
just love to look at women.  As my eyes scanned the room they came to rest
on the most alluring pair of boots I have seen in a long time.  I guess you
could describe them as knee boots although they came slightly above the
bend of the knee.  They were made of black leather but they were not
smooth. The leather had been tooled so that diamond designs covered the
sides.  And a wide leather strap came across the top of her insteps.  But
it was the heels that really grabbed my attention.  They had to be at least
six-inches tall and came to a pencil thin point.  For some reason I could
just imagine the pain that she could inflict upon my body if I was stupid
enough to lie down in front of her.

   I guess my eyes lingered a little too long for before I could look away
she had caught me in the act of staring at her boots.  I quickly turned
back to my drink and tried to find something else to attract my attention
when I heard the unmistakable sound of high-heels clicking on a wood floor.
I tried to keep from turning her way but soon I felt the gently tap of a
hand on my arm.  I knew who it was even before I turned to face what I was
sure was going to be an embarrassing situation.

   Turning I found myself looking into a pair of very dark and very serious
eyes.  And those eyes belonged to an extremely beautiful woman.  You are
probably thinking that I should have already known how beautiful she was,
but I had noticed very little about her other than her boots.

   "Pardon, me," she began.  "But I could not help but notice that you were
staring at my boots.  I was just wondering if there was something wrong
with them?  Perhaps something has been spilled on them that I did not
notice."

   "Ma-am I am truly sorry if I caused you any discomfort.  I really did
not mean to stare but those are perhaps the most exciting pair of boots I
have seen.  Please accept my apologies and I will take my leave so I don't
embarrass either one of us again tonight."

   "So you find my boots to be exciting?  That seems like a strange way for
someone to describe a pair of boots.  You must be a very strange man.  Tell
me what exactly would you like to do with my boots that you find so
exciting?"

   By this time I noticed that she had attracted quite a crown all trying
to get closer to see what she was going to do to the loser that had been
caught staring at her boots.

   I had no idea how I was going to extricate myself from this situation
but I figured that flight would be better than fight.  So I started to rise
from my bar stool but she moved in to my space enough so that was not
possible without brushing her out of the way.

   I said, "Ma-am again I apologize for my crass behavior.  But I think it
would be best for everyone if I just take my leave.  I really do not want
any trouble."

   "There won't be any trouble as long as you answer my question.  Now once
again, what is it that you find exciting about my boots?"

   How do you explain that to a woman you have never met before?  "They are
just different than what I normally see.  For one thing the heels are
considerably higher than most.  I think it takes a very special and very
coordinated woman to walk in them.  And the tooling on the uppers is quite
exquisite.  And the straps across the tops make the whole package most
appealing to the eye."

   "It seems you are quite adept at describing my boots, but you still have
not answered the question.  If you had said that my boots were beautiful,
what you just said would have been sufficient, but you said they were
exciting.  Are you talking sexually exciting?  Are you going to leave here
tonight and end up jacking off to the thought of my boots?"

   And with that I swore I heard someone in the crowd gasp.  I did not dare
look around to see who it might have been as I knew that my antagonist
would use the distraction to her advantage.  I wanted to tell her that yes,
I would probably end up masturbating to the thought of her boots but that
would take me only deeper in the abyss of shit so I tried to ignore the
question.

   Just then the bartender came to my rescue.  "I don't know what is going
on here," he started.  "But I really don't want any trouble in here.  How
about everyone going back to their tables." And then he turned his
attention to me.  "And I think it would be best if you settled up you tab
and called it a night."

   I reached for my wallet and pulled out a 20-dollar bill and told him to
keep the change.  As carefully as I could I stood up and squeezed past the
woman and started for the door.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I was
finally outside and headed towards my car.  I could not believe how badly
things had escalated from my fascination with a pair of women's boots.  And
while I knew that I had escaped from a bad situation I also felt remorse
that I had not been able to give her the answer that she wanted.  Had there
been less of a crowd maybe I could have let her enjoy humiliating me.  I
know that I would have enjoyed being humiliated by her if it involved
sinking to my knees and worshipping those boots.

   As I reached my car and hit the fob to unlock the door I noticed that I
would not be going anywhere for sometime as the drivers front tire was flat
as a pancake.  I bent down and took a closer look and determined that
someone had jabbed a sharp object into the side wall so even the fix-a-flat
that I carried in the trunk would not do me any good.  I was just pulling
my cell phone out of my pocket to call my auto service when I heard that
familiar female voice behind me.

   "You really did not think that you were going to get away that easily
did you?"

   "Look, I admit to acting like a damn fool back there, but don't you
think you are carrying this a little too far.  There are laws against
vandalizing property."

   "Ok," she said.  "I will fess up.  I know that you are Philip Wilder,
the erotic writer.  And I will admit that I came here tonight because I was
told that you would be here.  This whole thing has been something of a
setup.  And don't worry about the tire.  I have already called to have it
fixed.  I just wanted to make sure we had a chance to finish our
conversation."

   "I don't understand; why would you go to all this trouble just to try to
humiliate someone you have never met?"

   "I told you, you were setup.  Someone wanted me to play with you a
little bit.  They even offered to pay me for my time, but when I found out
who it was I volunteered for free.  Now aren't you at least curious as to
what this is all about?"

   "Oh, I am curious all right, but I am also a little apprehensive as to
what I am getting myself into.  You know who I am but I have no idea who
you are or who is behind this little charade.  I don't even know your
name."

   "Fair enough, you can call me Mistress Darla if you like.  All things
will be revealed in time but only if you throw caution to the wind and
allow me to give you a ride to a little private party.  Why don't you take
another look at my boots before you decide?  In fact why don't you take a
much closer look at them?  Perhaps if you were to get down on your knees,
you could properly inspect them."

   I knew it was stupid.  Who in their right mind would get down on his
knees in the parking lot of a bar because a woman asked him to?  Well, then
whoever said I was in my right mind, but at least I was hesitating.

   That is until she did something that I had not even considered.  She
kicked me square in the balls.  I doubled up in pain and sunk to my knees,
which is where she wanted me in the first place.  "I told you to get on
your knees and inspect my boots.  I think I have been quite patient up to
this point but it is time you learned to obey when I tell you to do
something.  Now, as much as I like the idea of you groveling in front of me
right here, I really do not want to be disturbed with what I have in mind."

   She then dangled a pair of handcuffs in front of my face and demanded
that I put my hands behind my back and fasten them in place.  I hesitated
and was rewarded for my dalliance with another kick this time to my
buttocks.  "You may think that you have some chance of holding your own
with a mere woman, but I can assure you that you do not.  If you keep
resisting, then I am going to have to severely punish you.  So far I have
aimed these boots into soft tissue, but if you do not behave, I am going to
start aiming for harder areas.  Maybe a broken rib or two would help you to
understand."

   I reached behind me and fastened the cuffs onto my wrists.  I tried to
ratchet them down just enough so she would hear them close but not so much
that with a little effort I could get my wrists free.  She then put a cloth
bag over my head and told me to stand up.  I was just on my feet when I
felt the cold steel of those cuffs closed tightly about my wrists and I
realized that my ruse had failed.

   She then guided me across the asphalt for an undeterminable distance.  I
heard a car door open and I was shoved roughly inside the vehicle.

   "Now be a good little boy," she said.  "We only have a short distance to
go and then you will understand everything."

   A Second Interview

   She was telling the truth about the length of the drive.  It seemed like
only a very few minutes and the car came to a halt and the engine turned
off.  I heard my door open and then she said, "I am going to help you out
of your seat.  Please do not do anything that I might interpret as a
hostile move.  I don't mind hurting you but it might be easier getting you
inside if you are able to walk." I then felt her hand on my elbow and she
was guiding me out of the car.

   I had no idea where we were going but I was grateful for her steady hand
on my arm, guiding me to the destination.  After we had traveled a little
ways she pulled me to a stop and announced, "There are two steps directly
in front of you, so please step up but be careful.  Very carefully I raised
my right foot and felt for the step.  You would be surprised how difficult
it is to take just two small steps when you cannot see.  It gives you a
whole new appreciation for what the blind go through.

   I heard a loud click and then the scrape as a door was being opened. 
She not so gently pushed me through the opening and then closed the door
behind us.  Only then did she remove the bag so that I could again see.

   I now realized that I was in what appeared to be some kind of a studio.
In the center of a stage like area was a fake living room set up.  A
leather sofa adored on side and two leather chairs were set on angles
facing the sofa.  There was no coffee table in the center but two end
tables were set between each chair and each end of the sofa.  A walking
space was left open between the two chairs.  There were four video cameras
positioned around the layout so that every possible angle could be taped. A
large boom microphone hung over the entire layout making individual mics
not necessary.  "I am sure that you have seen your interview with Angela,"
my captor explained.

   Before she could go on, I broke in and told her that no I had not seen
the interview although I was there when it was taped.

   "Well," she started.  "We are going to continue that interview tonight
but this time we are going to give you a little more incentive to tell the
truth."

   She then crossed the room to a door that when opened revealed a variety
of what I could only describe as sadomasochistic toys.  From my limited
viewpoint I could clearly see a variety of whips, paddles and taws.  What
other delightful items were hidden from view I could not say.  But I had a
terrifying feeling that I would find out eventually.

   When my jailor returned from the closet she held in her hand a small
harness in her hands.  I was not sure that I had ever seen one before but
from its size and construction I had a feeling what part of the body it was
designed to fit.  She also carried what I knew for a fact was a butt plug,
except that his one was not made of plastic but rather appeared to be made
of copper or bronze.

   She then steered me underneath a hanging hook in the center of the fake
living area.  She brought the hook down and fastened it to the chain of my
handcuffs and made a motion to some invisible entity.  And then the hook
began to rise and I was pulled uncomfortably into a semi hanging position,
bent over at the waist.

   She then began to open the buckle of my belt and pulled it free from my
jeans.  Next came the top button and a yank on the tab and my zipper was
lowered.  She then pushed my jeans along with my shorts off and over my
hips.  She then told me to step out of my shoes, which I did with much
trepidation.  I was then ordered to remove my socks by taking the big toe
of one foot and hooking it into the top of my sock on the opposite foot. 
This dear readers is much more difficult than it sounds.  By the time I had
successfully managed this feat, my shoulders felt as if they had been
dislocated.

   Darla then stood back and closely examined what she had so
unceremoniously unwrapped.  "Not much to look at there is it?  I hope this
harness can be drawn up small enough to encase those little tiny stones
without them falling out.  She then took a metal ring and forced my
testicles through it one at a time.  Then she bent my still flaccid penis
in half and forced the foreskin through the ring as well.  Then by pulling
on my foreskin and shoving on the ring she soon had it nestled quite
uncomfortably at the base of my testicles and against my pelvis bone at the
top of my cock.

   She then took the leather harness and inserted my cock through a hole in
the center and fastened it securely behind my scrotum.  Then with no
lubrication she pushed the copper phallus into my rectum and rammed it
home. It was so constructed that it flared out at the base so that it was
held in place without any other means of support.  This gave me great cause
for concern as I was sure when it came time to take it out something would
have to tear in the removal process.

   Darla then went back to the closet and this time when she came back she
had a series of wires attached to a small metal box.  The box was then hung
from somewhere on the bottom of the metal harness and the wires were
attached in some fashion to the ring around my cock and balls and also to
the metal butt plug.

   "There now let's just make sure this thing works before we continue."
She then produced an object from her pocket and depressed the little red
button at the top with her thumb.  Despite my best efforts to control my
reaction I screamed as the voltage hit first my cock and balls and then
traveled into my rectum.  If I had not been suspended I know that I would
have lost my balance and been forced to my knees from the intense pain.

   "Hmm that seemed to work quite well.  Do you think you can be a good
little boy, if I take the hook off of your cuffs?"

   "Yes," I said.  And then she depressed the button a second time and held
it a little longer.

   "Yes, what?" she spat.

   "Yes, Mistress Darla." I replied.

   She then made a downward motion with her hand and the hook began to
lower and the pressure on my arms and shoulders began to lessen.  When all
the pressure had been relieved she removed the hook from my cuffs and
allowed me to stand upright.  But that was not to last.

   "On your knees worm.  Let's see how well you can crawl.  Crawl to the
sofa and sit facing it."

   I tried to wobble on just my knees but I was not making much progress.
So I flopped down onto my side and began to try to push myself across the
floor with my feet.  I was grateful that the floor was made of hardwood and
not carpeted as the smooth surface made the going a little easier.

   "Tsk, Tsk, Tsk, what a pathetic little worm you are.  Here let me see if
I can help you along." And with that she put the sole of her boot against
my ass cheek and began pushing me across the floor.  With the two of us
pushing I eventually got to the area of the floor where she wanted me.

   She then grabbed me by the hair of the head and began pulling me into a
sitting position directly in front of the sofa.  She then sat down in front
of me and crossed her legs so that the toe of her right boot was only
inches from my mouth.  "Hmm, I really like you on your knees in front of
me. How is it for you?" "It is fine, Mistress Darla.  But you know you did
not have to go to all this trouble just to get me on my knees in front of
you.  I would have been more than willing to do that if you had just asked
me."

   "Yes, but then what fun would that is?  I think you yourself said that
if the man is willing it takes all the pleasure out of it."

   "Maybe so," I started.  "But how are you going to make me unwilling when
obviously I am exactly where I want to be?"

   "Perhaps but as the evening progresses we will see how willing you are."
She then brought the toe of her boot and wiped it across my lips.  "Would
you like to stick out your tongue and lick my boot?"

   "Yes, Mistress, Darla, may I please?"

   "All right then, just a little around where the sole meets the upper."
And she shoved the boot firmly against my lips.

   With as much grace as I could manage in that position I stuck my tongue
out and began licking as much of her boot as I could reach.  But I would
only take a few swipes with my tongue and she would inch her foot back away
from me so that I would have to strain further on the front of my knees to
get back in contact with it.  And then it happened; I lost my balance and
fell clumsily onto my face on the floor.  With no way to break my fall my
nose and mouth were took the most of the punishment and I felt a trickle of
blood began to seep from my nose.

   Darla quickly got up from her seat and moved around to my side and
delivered a sharp kick to my exposed side just below the ribs.  "Look at
what you have done you clumsy fool.  Now you have got blood on this nice
floor." She then grabbed a rag from the end table and threw it in front of
my face.  "Pick it up in your mouth, worm.  And clean that floor before it
sets into the wood."

   I did the best I could but with my nose still bleeding I was not making
a lot of progress until she finally took pity on me and jammed some Kleenex
up my nose to stop the bleeding.

   "You are truly pathetic.  If I had known how uncoordinated you were I
would never have taken this assignment.  Now turn over onto you back."

   I did as she asked although it caused my hands to be trapped between my
body and the hardwood floor with caused me great pain.  She then took the
sole of her boot and pushed it down hard against my bruised mouth and told
me to get to licking.  I stuck out my tongue but could not make much
headway as the pressure of her boot was keeping my mouth from moving.

   "You are not even any good at the one thing that you said you enjoyed.
You cannot even lick my boots worth a damn.  Here just hold your tongue out
and I will help you." And with that she roughly pulled the dry sole of her
boot across my tongue.  This caused it to stretch out from my mouth and I
thought it would tear from its' anchor at the back of my mouth.  She then
put a little more pressure onto my tongue and began to grind her foot from
side to side.  I couldn't scream because my tongue was pinned under her
boot but I would have otherwise.

   "That is enough for now.  I am bored with this activity.  And besides,
there are so many other wonderful things for you to experience tonight.  I
do want you to know, however, that there was a little accident in the
ladies room earlier tonight.  One of the toilets overflowed and the sole
that you just licked got quite soiled with the filth.  So not only did you
get some of that in your mouth but that open sore on your lip probably got
infected as well."

   I had no comment for that and so I just kept quiet and waited for
whatever would occur next.

   "As much as I like to have you at my feet, that position does not afford
you the best view for the next segment of the show.  So if you would not
mind see if you can pull your hands down below your hips and pull your legs
out so that you can move your hands in front of you body.  I guess I could
just unlock your cuffs but what fun would that be?"

   With a little effort I found that it was fairly a simple maneuver to
accomplish what she requested.  She then instructed me to stand up and
place the chain of my cuffs over the dangling hook.  The with a wave of her
hand upward the hook began to rise until i was stretched with my arms above
me and just the tips of my toes on the hard wood floor.

   "Now I seem to recall that you had expressed the desire to whip a woman
or to be whipped by one.  If you would keep your eyes on the screen to your
left please.  I think you will be very pleased with what you are going to
witness." Because of the way my body was hung, it was a fairly easy task to
be able to rotate in any direction that I wished.  And so I tiptoed around
until I was directly in line with the screen she was talking about.  When I
had settled into that position, I saw the screen begin to rise and slowly
ever so slowly the naked body of a young woman came into view.  Like me,
she was suspended from the ceiling, although a leather harness supported he
body so that not so much of her weight was on her arms and legs.

   She had a leather mask covering her face but there was something vaguely
familiar about her.  I reached into the depths of my memory to try and drag
out what my eyes were not revealing, but I could not quite grasp who it
might be.

   As Darla walked towards the bound, helpless woman, I noticed that she
carried a riding crop in her hand and was gently tapping it against the
side of her skirt as she walked.  When she was right next to her victim,
for surely that was what this helpless waif must be, she began gently
running the whip slowly against the bare skin of her buttocks.  I could
hear a small gasp coming from the bound girl's lips but I was unsure if it
was because of fear or anticipation.

   "Now, worm, you had said you would like to whip a woman.  Well,
unfortunately we cannot allow you to be untied so all you can do is witness
the rise and fall of the whip.  But we did want you to feel a little of
what this young lass is going through and so we found a way to make your
harness respond to loud noises.  The louder the noise the higher the
voltage that will be dispensed.  So the sound of the whip striking flesh
may cause you some discomfort, if our toy here should feel the need to
scream, then I imagine your harness will cause you considerable pain.  So
then shall we get started?  Oh I almost forgot.  I am sure you would like
to know the identity of the person that is here because of you tonight."

   With that she stepped up and unbuckled the leather mask and pulled it
from the woman's head.  And as the golden blonde tresses fell to the
shoulders of the woman in front of me, I recognized the face of my younger
sister, Andrea.

   "God, no!" I screamed.  "You cannot do this to her.  Whip me instead. 
Please I am begging you, let her go."

   "Why you pathetic little hypocrite.  You said you would like to whip a
woman and so we thought you should get a chance to see what that entails.
After all any other woman we chose would have been somebody's wife,
daughter, mother or sister.  Why should it not be someone that you love?"

   And with that she raised the whip and brought it down with all her force
onto the right buttock of my sister.  As the whip landed with a dull whap,
I felt a slight discharge of electricity into my body but when Andrea
screamed at the top of her lungs I felt the most intense pain I had ever
had to endure before.  Again the whip was raised over Darla's head and
again it was brought down only this time on the left buttock.  I did not
even have time to feel the small pain before the large one threatened to
burn my insides into ashes.

   Darla looked at me with a huge smile on her face and asked, "How do you
like it so far?  Is it living up to your greatest expectations?"

   "You cruel heartless bitch," I screamed.  "I am going to kill you when I
get loose from here."

   "And just why do you think you are ever going to get loose?  Once I am
finished with your pretty little sister, I may just decide to use the whip
on you.  It will be interesting to see which is worse, the pain of the whip
or the pain of the electricity that you cause by your screams.  But that
last jolt to your balls almost caused you to pass out and I do not want
that to happen until I have finished with Andrea so I am going to turn off
the voltage to your harness.  That way you can just hang there and enjoy
the show."

   With that she walked over to me and reached down and disconnected the
box from my harness.  "There now you can really enjoy the show."

   She returned to my helpless sister and inspected the damage that her
whip had done so far.  "Wow, you are going to have some nice bruises there
if you are still alive when I finish with you.  I have been told that
whipping a woman on her buttocks actually can be pleasurable.  Is that the
case my pet?" When she did not receive and answer she decided to inspect
for herself.

   She then reached between my sisters legs and began running her fingers
up and down her slit.  "My, my," she exclaimed.  "You are enjoying this."
And she pulled her fingers out and held them up towards me.  Even from this
distance I could see them glisten with moisture and I knew that the whip
had indeed caused my sister to become excited.

   "Well, we certainly cannot have you getting all wet and dripping.  So I
am going to concentrate my strokes somewhere other than you pretty little
ass.  I hear the tops of the legs can be excruciatingly painful when
whipped."

   She then brought the whip down again with force but this time just below
Andrea's buttocks.  Andrea not only screamed this time but also threw her
entire body away from the blow.  Because of that, her feet came off the
floor and she began to swing back and forth.  Before she could come to rest
the whip again struck.  This time the target was an inch or so lower than
the one previous.  The scream had barely left her mouth when the whip
struck again, just a little lower yet.

   I was begging and pleading and the tears were running down my face.  But
none of my pleas were answered.  It was not until Andrea slumped fully into
her harness that Darla set the whip aside.

   "That was so much fun.  I so love all the endorphins that a little
whipping action brings out.  I am so disappointed though that you did not
enjoy it more.  I was sure that your small excuse for a cock would have
gotten hard watching your sister abused that way.  Perhaps the next act
will bring out a better reaction."

   She approached me and removed the leather harness from my cock and balls
but left the metal ring and the butt plug attached.  She then produced a
smaller ring and put it over my flaccid fore-skinned penis.  Grabbing my
shaft she began working the hard metal ring down until it nestled solidly
against the base of my cock.  "Now if we only had someway of getting you
hard.  I know perhaps you would like to lick my boots for real.  Would that
get you excited, worm?  Just imagine the smell of the leather or how your
tongue would feel snaking across all that dirt and grime.  Imagine where
those boots have walked today and all the other days since they were new."
And pulling on a pair of leather gloves she reached down and gave my
awakening penis a gentle squeeze.  "Yes I can see that idea does excite
you. All that wonderful blood is beginning to seep into your tube, but the
ring is going to keep it from flowing back out."

   And she was right.  I was experiencing the beginning of an erection and
I knew that from past experience there was no way that I would return to a
flaccid state until someone decided to remove the smaller ring.  And
already I was beginning to experience some discomfort as my cock grew
bigger and bigger.

   "Oh, that is so lovely.  What a nice shade of purple you are turning.  I
imagine shortly that it will turn black and then what?  Do you think the
blood will begin to clot in there and maybe you will have that woody until
it finally falls off?  And now are you ready for the next act?"

   "I have no idea why you are doing this but please just end this now
before someone dies.  My sister needs medical attention.  Do what you will
with me but let her go, please."

   "Oh, your sister is fine.  We administered a little ammonia under her
nose and she came right around.  In fact she is so well that we are going
to use her in this segment as well.  Keep your eyes on the screen."

   And once again the screen started to rise, but this time I did not see
Andrea's legs but instead the base of some kind of padded bench.  When the
screen had reached where Andrea's hips would have been before I saw that
she was there but this time strapped down to the bench face up and her legs
spread and secured to a pole that ran between her ankles.  Her hips were
just off the end of the bench but because the spreader bar was suspended
from the ceiling she did not drop below the padding.  And then a very large
naked man stepped into view.  He was obviously excited as his giant member
stood straight up away from his body.  It was so long that if he bent his
head only slightly downward he would be able to give himself fallatio.  It
was also so thick that I was sure it could not possible enter any normal
woman's vagina no less my small innocent sisters.

   I wanted to yell and scream but by now I realized that it would be
pointless to do so.  So I just closed my eyes and tried to avoid what I
knew was inevitability.  And then I heard Darla say, "Open your eyes damn
you and watch what is going to happen.  If you try to avoid it I swear I
will make this much harder on Andrea.  And it is obvious from your
condition that you find it to be exciting in any regard.  Andrea, look at
the screen over your head and notice how much your big brother really hates
this."

   And then my eyes were drawn to the huge screen that was hung above the
bench where my sister was tied.  And of course you guessed it the main
attraction was my fully erect black penis.  I could have explained that it
was not because of her situation but it would have fallen on deaf ears at
that juncture.

   And then with a shaky voice, Andrea spoke.  "I did not believe it when
these people told me what a perverted man you had become.  But, now I can
see for myself.  What a magnificent hard on you have achieved and all
because someone is about to rape me.  I suppose when this is over you will
write a book about how excited you got watching a giant pole being rammed
into my cunt."

   "Andrea, please believe me this has nothing to do with you.  I can't
lose my erection because the blood is trapped in my shaft by two metal
rings that are cutting off the blood flow."

   "Phillip, shut the fuck up.  Nobody here is ready to believe your lies.
You might just as well enjoy the show.  Do you think he will tear me
asunder with that huge cock of his?"

   The man then stepped up between her legs and began rubbing the tip of
his gigantic cock up and down her slit.  Even though I am sure she hated
what was happening to her I could hear a gentle moan escape her lips when
it brushed against her clit.  And then something absolutely terrifying
happened.  I actually began to be stimulated by the sight and my already
engorged cock strained even harder against the ring holding the blood in.
What Andrea said really was true.  I was excited by the fact that she was
about to be impaled by something much larger than had ever been inside her
before.

   While that thought was still burning a hole in my conscience he began to
place the head of his cock against her vaginal opening and began to push
with his hips.  Because I was directly behind him my view was blocked
somewhat but then I changed my vantage point to the screen above the
action. I was actually pleased to note that the camera angle was perfect to
allow me to see every inch of that magnificent tool.  He had only managed
to insert the head and already I could see that she was being stretched
much farther than anyone should be able to endure.  But she was not
screaming out in pain but rather the microphone was clearly picking up the
sounds of coming passion.  Inch by what must have been painful inch he
forced himself inside of my sister.  When he was only about a fourth of the
way to his goal he stopped and allowed himself to recover.  Apparently the
tightness of that pussy was causing so much friction against his sensitive
member that he was in danger of discharging his load.

   And then he started again.  I watched from the back as those powerful
muscles in his buttocks clenched and shoved and then I watched from above
to see the progress his cock was making.  He was now half way there and
still she did not cry out.  And then I heard her voice, "Please, dear lord,
I can't take anymore.  You are going to split me wide open."

   And then Darla spoke, "Don't listen to the slut, fuck her.  Shove that
rod of yours all the way to the hilt.  She will stretch a mile before she
tears an inch."

   And he clenched his ass and pushed with all his might.  I watched on the
overhead screen as he started steadily sliding towards her pubic hairs and
then he was all the way inside.  He stopped fully imbedded and let out a
sign of contentment.  "God, she is tight." And then he pulled almost all
the way out and drove in one motion back in.  I saw her hips rise up and I
did not know if that was to give her some relief or if she was trying to
draw him even deeper inside of her.  Again he withdrew and this time held
himself quiet with just his head still inside and then again drove his cock
to the hilt.

   "Oh, dear God, fuck me," Andrea begged.  "I have never felt anything
like this in my life.  Drive that magnificent piece of meat in deeper." And
he obliged.  He picked up the pace and I could see her hips matching his
rhythm.  And with each stroke I could hear her moan and beg for more.  It
seemed like hours passed as I watched him piston in and out before, I saw
his ass clench and he drove deep and held it as spasm after spasm passed
through his body.  And then finally he withdrew completely walked around to
her head and placed his dripping wet cock to her lips.  I was stunned when
she willingly opened her mouth and took as much of him in as possible.  She
sucked for only a little while when he pulled out and wiped his cock with
her hair and then walked off the stage.

   Only then did I return my attention to my own problem.  I had been
trapped in those rings for so long that I felt like my cock was an ice
cycle.  And then I heard a familiar voice call out from somewhere back
stage.  "Darla, let him down and put him on the bench."

   And as she obeyed and was leading me towards the bench, I saw my ex-wife
emerge and head my way.  "My, Phillip," she said.  "I don't believe that I
have ever seen your wienie that engorged.  I do think this may be the first
time that I ever might be able to use that thing and actually orgasm.  Lie
down like a good little boy and let Darla fasten you in.  This may well be
the ride of your life."

   I did not even argue.  I gladly got up on that bench and lay down face
up.  I did not however leave my ass hanging over the edge.  It was a good
thing too, as my ex-wife climbed on top of me and unceremoniously lowered
her dripping cunt onto my frozen shaft.  "God, that feels so good." she
said as she fully impaled herself on it.  "I wish I had know about this
sooner.  Maybe, I would have kept you around for an occasional fuck when
Donald was out of town." And then she began to grind her hips from side to
side more than up and down.  And while the heat of her body should have
been warming me up, the friction against my painfully stretched skin was an
agony that no one would ever associate with the act of fucking.

   She rode me like a bucking bronco for the longest time.  She had no
reason to worry about me ejaculating as nothing could escape the
confinement of those rings.  As she got more and more pleasure, I got more
and more pain.  And I could see from the look in her eyes she knew how much
she was hurting me and she was enjoying every second of it.

   When she was finally done, she rose off of my cock and repositioned her
hips above my face.  And then she reached down and spread her cunt lips and
slowly lowered herself to my mouth.  "It is too bad that you could not
orgasm as it would have been more pleasurable to have you eat your own cum.
But never the less I am sure you can give me one more orgasm before we are
through." And she began to grind her wet slit against my mouth.  And
despite my better judgment, I stuck out my tongue and allowed her to ride
it to orgasm.

   When she was through, I thought they would just let me lay there until
my cock petrified and fell off.  But that was not to be.  Darla approached
me and with her still gloved hand reached out and grasped the small ring
that encircled my cock.  With a not so gentle tug she managed to get it
moving towards the tip and it soon slid all the way off.  What should have
been a huge relief actually was a cause for more pain.  As the blood
started to flow anew all of my nerve endings came back to life.  Darla then
removed my restraints and allowed me to get to my feet.  I was so light
headed at that point that I thought I might pass out and had to reach out
and steady myself against the bench.

   "Ok, you have been such a great sport that you can now have a little
reward.  Come on over and get on your knees in front of the sofa.  I am
going to let you finish licking my boots and you can spend as much time at
it as you like." I settled down on my knees and willingly lowered my head
towards her boots only to feel her hand grip me under the chin and pull my
head away.  "I said you could lick my boots but there is something I want
you to do first."

   "Anything you want," Mistress Darla.

   "Good boy.  Now I want you to jack off and spurt all that spent up cum
onto my boots and then you can lick them clean.  I am sure that your wife
and sister will enjoy the show."

   That may have been the single most embarrassing thing I had ever done
but I followed her instructions to the letter.  And after all of the pent
of sexual tension I had went through I spurted a lot of cum.  She
instructed me to rub it all over the uppers of her boots and then to make
sure I got every bit with my tongue.

   I both hated and loved every stroke of my tongue on her boots.  I even
lovingly cleaned the filthy soles of her boots and then thanked her for the
privilege.

   When I was finally through and asked for permission to rise I heard a
loud round of applause from somewhere off stage.  And then my sister, my
mother, my ex-wife and Angela Hayward emerged from the shadows.  They were
all high fiving each other and laughing and clapping there hands.

   Andrea was the first to reach me.  She pulled me into her arms and gave
me a big hug.  "Well big brother did you enjoy this day as much as we did?"

   "You mean you were in on this whole thing?" I asked.

   "In on it," she laughed.  "I orchestrated it.  Do you not even realize
what day this is?"

   I tried to think but it was not coming to me and then the light bulb
went on.  " Do you mean?" I started only to be interrupted.

   And then they all shouted in unison "Happy Birthday, Phillip."

   The End.  If you enjoyed this story please let me know at
wandapeters1@yahoo.com