Bizarre Case Studies
by Unknown


INTRODUCTION 

Abusive pleasures are becoming predominant in today's society. Once a person 
learns to master the art of pleasure, there is nothing to do but try 
variations. Those variations are usually painful ones, hence, the abuse. 

When a woman can turn her abuse into her pleasure, chances are good she will 
only be making things easier for herself, as more and more men are learning 
to get off on abusing these women. 

Betty: A young Florida housewife who first learns about pleasure when two 
men rob and rape her, then discovers that her real pleasure comes from being 
a dominatrix. 

Miranda: A middle aged woman who marries a rich, rich man, and only has to 
bring him female slaves in order to keep him happy so he can abuse them. 

Elsie: A pretty blonde secretary, who learns to love the sting of the 
leather whip during training sessions on the French Riviera. 

Angela: A beautiful blonde actress who found she had to suffer before a role 
would be given to her, until her suffering was no act. 

Anais: A poet, who witnessed and took parts in horrible scenes of 
humiliation which she could later incorporate into her work. 


THE STORY OF BETTY 

When I think about all I've been through in my life, I can understand just 
where I am, and even more so, where I'm going. 

That's pretty good, when you think about where I came from, and how it all 
started. Oh, God, was I some naive bitch, thinking that Harry was some good 
lay, know what I mean? I guess a lot of women out there in this here world 
can relate to only having had one man for many years in their dreary little 
lives. 

That was me. Miss Housewife in good old dull Florida, where nothing even 
happens except the sand hits the shore a million times a day. 

Sure, the men, they go out drinking and get themselves plowed, then come 
home to their respective wives to plow in another kind of way. 

That was Harry. When I met him, back when I was seventeen and living in 
Orlando, I thought he was the best thing that ever came into my life. 
Actually, he was just the fucker who taught me that I could get myself 
turned on, sexually. 

Up until that point, I was just some dumb teenager, hanging out on the beach 
in my bikini all the time, water surfing and body surfing, and doing all 
that kind of shit. Of course, there was boys back then who wanted me, but 
being the hot little blonde who they all wanted, I knew I didn't have to put 
out. 

Besides which, they was boys, clear and simple. I always kinda dreamed of 
some older man whisking me away, and me doing anything for that older man. I 
knew I had sexual feelings, but knew, too, that they could wait for a while. 
I didn't even masturbate before I met that bastard Harry. 

Of course, I call him a bastard now, but I wouldn't have done that back 
then. 

I was on the beach when I met him, and he was just stepping out to get some 
sun, wearing this three piece suit. A person tends to stand out in a crowd, 
especially on the beach, when he's decked out in his three piece. 

I was just running up to get a soda, when I tripped right near where he was. 
Now maybe I tripped on purpose. I don't know. 

He just kinda had that look, the kind of look I'd always dreamed about. 
Sleek black hair and dark brown skin, from the sun, and a real diamond ring 
on his finger. Now don't go thinking I was a gold digger, or something like 
that. I just notice these things. 

Anyway, Harry kinda asked me where I was going, and I told him for a soda. 

"Come on, I'll buy you one, kid," he said. 

"I don't mind." 

I didn't know he was gonna be taking me into this caddy that was sitting out 
in front of the big hotel on the beach. I was only wearing my bikini, and we 
hopped into this caddy, with a chauffeur and all, and started to drive off. 

As we did, he put his arm around me and started asking me questions about 
myself. I lied about my age, sensing that this dude was gonna be the one to 
break me. I knew he wouldn't have done it if he knew I was jail bait. 

Anyway, his hand is starting to slide down my stomach, and down toward my 
thighs, and I didn't really do nothing. I didn't spread my legs for him or 
anything like that, but he continued to slide his fingers, until they were 
in my bottoms. 

I felt him rubbing my blonde patch, and when they touched my cunt lips I 
could feel this hot wetness running through me. He slid his hand into my 
cunt lips and when he just touched me, something inside of me started to 
explode. 

Now I kinda had my eyes closed, but I heard him moan something. 

"Hey, baby, lookie here," he said, and when I turned and looked, he had his 
suit pants open, at the zipper, and his hard dick was sticking right out. 

I'd seen dicks before, but never hard. I really liked the way this big pole 
looked, and I started to move my mouth down there. I'd never done nothing 
like that, either, but I knew that was what he wanted me to do. 

I slurped at that cock like a hungry bitch, just because I could hear him 
moaning the second my mouth touched the head of it. I started to flick my 
tongue back and forth over the slit, and his fingers were still wiggling 
around inside of me. I thought I was gonna pass out from the pleasure. 

Now let me tell you that I knew a girl had to get to like cocks because most 
guys had 'em and wanted to have 'em served. 

So I made some kind of a conscious effort to like them. Also, it wasn't too 
bad, with his other hand on his thigh, right near his hard dick. I kept my 
eyes open and could see that diamond ring sparkling like mad. 

It didn't take more than a few seconds. I was flicking my tongue along the 
underside of his hot pleasure pole, and he started to moan loud. Then I felt 
the come shooting out onto my tongue, and I moaned as I tasted it. 

The moans let me tell you, were all for him, and for no other reason. I mean 
the gism tasted kind of okay, but I'd had my heart set on a soda, and he 
even made me think that was what I was gonna be drinking. 

I would have preferred that sweet bubbly taste on my tongue over the taste 
of Harry's come, but I made do with what I was getting from him. 

His cock was really pretty big, but after he'd shot out all the come, it 
started to go limp really fast, until he just pulled my head away and tucked 
himself back into his pants. I lifted my head up, and as we continued to 
drive, he kept his fingers in my bikini bottoms, playing with my cunt. 

We did end up going for a drink, at the chicest hotel in Orlando. 

He let me put on his sports jacket so I wouldn't be walking through the 
lobby in just my skimpy bikini, and we took an elevator right up to his 
room. 

Then, as soon as the door was closed, he pulled the jacket off, put his arms 
around me, and kissed me real hard on the lips. 

I could feel the way his cock was getting stiff in his pants, because he 
kept grinding himself against me, so that I would feel it. 

"Yeah, you're one hot bitch," he said. "Now do a slow strip for me, okay?" 

Before I even moved, he started to tear at his clothing, letting them pile 
up in a heap on the floor. I could tell that he didn't care much about the 
stuff, even though the clothes were real expensive. 

He had a nice body, too, with his chest and legs as tan as his face. He had 
a lotta hair on his chest, and a real hairy pubic patch. The thing was, when 
I saw him naked, his cock didn't seem as big as it had been before, but it 
was still a good size. 

As I started to do a slow strip, and slow was the . .only way to do it, 
considering how little I had on to begin with, he sat on the edge of the 
bed. He started to rub his hand up and down his extended cock. 

I could see the way his balls bounced up and down a little, when he was 
jerking himself even faster, and when he wasn't, they kinda sat on the bed. 

I kept taunting him, for after I opened my bikini top, and started to slide 
it down, I turned my back on him. I kinda shook myself around, and swung the 
bra top in my hand, but when I turned back to him, I held it in front of my 
boobs. 

Then, I started to let it fall, so that he could see most of my tits, but 
not anything of my stiff red nipples. Yeah, they were real stiff, because I 
guess I was turned on doing something like this for him. 

I kept turning back and forth, and finally, he was screaming for me to show 
my tits, so I showed them for him. 

I let the top fall to the floor, then started to shake. He seemed to like 
the look of my tits going around in circles. 

I moved my fingers to my hot nipples and played with them, then looked at 
his cock. He was squeezing it real hard, and I didn't realize why right 
away, but would later. He had to keep himself from coming. 

Harry would do that often. You see, he was a pretty quick shot. 

"Let me see that pussy of yours, now that we're here. I only got to feel it, 
baby, but now I wanna see it in the flesh." 

I slid out of my bottoms real slow, turning my back on him. I wanted him to 
see my ass first anyway, because I knew how much he wanted to see my pussy. 

I finally turned for him, but had my hand over my cunt. Slowly, I moved it 
down, so that first, he could see my wet blonde bush. I showed him more and 
more of my pussy lips, but turned my back before he could see all of it. 
Then when I turned back to face him, after shaking my ass in his face for a 
while, I had my cunt covered again. 

He was moaning real loud at the time, so I knew I was doing good. 

The next time I turned to face him and started to slide my hand down, I let 
it go all the way, thinking that this dude was ready to see my pussy. 

Well, the second he saw it, I heard him let out one loud moan. 

I didn't even look down at his dick right away. First, I saw this white load 
shooting up onto his chest, and then when I realized that Harry was shooting 
his load, I looked down and watched the rest bursting out of that dick of 
his. His hand was moving kind of fast, but not fast enough to make his cock 
a blur. 

I got down on my knees right in front of him and started to lap at the come 
that was now on his thighs. When I moved my mouth to his cock head, his dick 
kind of twitched and he tried to pull it away. That was when I learned how 
sensitive he was. 

Well, after that, I sucked his dick into my mouth, until he started to get 
hard again, I could feel him going limp in my mouth, but he held the back of 
my head so I would keep him in my mouth until he got hard. 

Then, he told me to lay on my back and spread my legs. 

"You mean you're gonna fuck me?" I asked him, and he smiled. 

"That's right, baby. That's the whole idea of this thing." 

"Well, I don't know if I want you to fuck me. You're gonna fuck me and then 
you're gonna just forget about me afterwards. I know how you men are." 

"Hey, baby, you're real special. Now what did you say your name was?" 

I told him, and he was moaning it in my ear as he pressed his hairy chest 
down on my tits and started to rub his dick against my pussy lips. I must 
admit that I was so hot I really did want him then, and in the end, when he 
thrust into me, I didn't mind it that much. First of all, I didn't have a 
hymen. 

And second, like I said and will probably say a lot more, that fuckhead was 
such a quick shot, know what I mean? I didn't know about that until much 
later in life, after that fucking rape. 

But Harry was in me for a couple of seconds, and I could feel this heated 
pleasure running through my body. I could feel the way my whole body was 
starting to explode, not only in the cunt, but all over. 

My flesh was tingling like mad, and I thought I was gonna pass out. 

Now maybe this was all because of my own built-up excitement, this going to 
be my first fuck and all, because he couldn't have been in me for more than 
a couple of seconds when that dick started to throb, and he was shooting 
again. 

I started to moan so loud, not really knowing any better. 

"Oh yeah, baby, fill me up with that come of yours. Yeah, I love it. I jiist 
fucking love the way it feels, baby. I fucking love it." 

I could see how happy Harry was about what I was saying. He started to moan 
louder and even got off more as I was rubbing my hands up and down his back, 
firmly. I was even able to slide my hands all the way down to-his buttocks, 
and he moaned as I was massaging those wet ass cheeks of his. 

"God, that was fantastic," I kept moaning, as he stayed on top of me, but 
not in me, because he'd already fallen out. "Fucking fantastic." 

"I thought so, too," he moaned to me, and then he rolled off. 

Soon, he was sleeping, and I didn't really know what to do. I decided that 
I'd just call home and tell them I was staying at a girlfriend's house, and 
just hang out until he woke up, just to see what was happening. 

Eventually, I fell asleep, and when I woke up some time later, I could feel 
him rubbing against me from behind. I didn't remember where I was right 
away, but as I felt this hairy chest pressed against my back, and this warm 
hard dick nestled between my buttocks, I did remember. After all, it had 
been my" first time, earlier. 

Soon, he was rubbing his dick against my pussy from behind, and when he 
entered me, he slid his hand around. 

That time, I felt more pleasure than I had from the first fuck. That dude 
really knew how to use his fingers, something I should have realized from 
back in the caddy when he'd made me suck him off and was fingering me. 

As a matter-of-fact, he could use his fingers better than his dick, though I 
wouldn't realize that until much, much later. 

For as he started to thrust, I loved the warm heat of his dick spreading 
through my pussy, but seconds after he was in me, he was coming. Luckily, he 
kept working his fingers even as his seed shot into me, and I thought that 
felt real hot. 

Well, Harry started to take me around Orlando, and he was buying me 
everything that I wanted, left and right. Then, after I'd been with him for 
about two weeks, he came right out and asked me to marry him. 

I said sure, why the fuck not? I mean, I liked him. He was the kind of man I 
wanted to be with, and he liked me. What more could I want? 

It was a small ceremony, and my Mom and Dad were real happy to get rid of 
me. There were so many kids in the family, and a lotta girls. I know Dad was 
relieved that it was a small ceremony, because I really think he spent half 
his life estimating how much it was gonna set him back to pay off four 
weddings. 

Harry lived in Miami Beach, so we were off right after the wedding. 

Now this is where I learned something about what a shit he was. He told me 
he had this fantastic house he owned, and when we got there, the only thing 
fantastic about it was that it was on the beach. 

It was, however, the shantiest little shit shack I've ever seen. 

Then, more things came out. Harry worked in this department store, and the 
reason he had been showing me such a good time was that he'd won this 
fucking contest. They'd given him the caddy with the chauffeur, paid for his 
hotel room and meals, and even gave him some cash to spend. 

As for the diamond, it was really this one big rhinestone. 

You could imagine how disappointed I was, but then again, I still liked 
Harry. I mean, he had been real good to me when he had money, and he was 
kinda handsome, and as I said, he was my first. I wouldn't know what I was 
missing until a few years later, but I'll tell you that even before those 
two fuckers busted into my house, I was starting to sense that something was 
not right. 

I mean, I became a bored housewife. Living in Miami was not all that 
different. I got to meet a lotta people on the beach, and I was brown as the 
darkest nigger down there, which always turned me on. But the boredom would 
show through sometimes, even when we was in bed. I mean, the first few times 
I was with him, I really got hot when he came, but after a few years of him 
coming before me, I didn't even fake it. 

In many ways, though those two men abused me, and there weren't going to be 
any more men abusing me after that, they taught me a hell of a lot. They 
taught me just what my body could feel, although they forced me to feel it. 

I was out on the beach until about three on this afternoon, and when I 
walked back to our house, I could see that the front door was open. I didn't 
really think too much about that, because sometimes I could be 
scatter-brained. 

When I walked in though, and saw the way the living room was a fucking mess, 
with chairs turned over, and drawers opened everywhere, I freaked. 

Now I didn't think they were still there, otherwise I never would have 
screamed the way I did. I thought the robbers had to have left. 

But the second I screamed, the door to the bedroom was thrown open, and this 
ugly bald dude was running out. He had a pistol with him, and he aimed it at 
me. 

I stopped screaming immediately, and my eyes bulged with fright. 

I could suddenly see the way this dude was licking his lips, and I kind of 
knew that he wanted me. I was also suddenly so aware of how naked I was. I 
only had on my bikini, and this T-shirt over that. 

"Who the fuck is out there?" I heard another voice ask. 

"Some hot blonde bitch, boss," the bald dude said. "Come take a look." 

The guy who came out must have had some kind of an Elvis problem, because he 
had his black hair slicked back like that. He was wearing a jacket that I 
could have sworn was leather, though I can't remember ever seeing anyone 
else down in Florida in a leather jacket. It was just too fucking hot to 
wear leather. 

He started to smile, too, and he not only licked his lips, but started to 
run his hand right over his crotch. I could see this huge cock starting to 
swell there. 

"Bring her into the bedroom," he said, and then, the bald man kind of 
surprised me by what he started to say. 

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I want this fucking bitch, but a 
rape charge is something else. Robbery is one thing, but not rape." 

"All right, mother-fucker. Drop it," the black-haired dude said. 

I saw him pulling his gun on his partner, and the bald man did drop his. 

"I'm gonna fuck this bitch, and if you don't want to, then fuck off." 

And the bald dude looked like he was gonna run, when suddenly, the other man 
stopped him again. He must have realized that his friend might run and get 
the cops. 

He held the gun on both of us and walked toward the front door, closed it, 
and locked it. Then, he looked around the room, and reached for this role of 
packing cord that Harry had brought home once when he was mailing something 
to my Mom. 

"All right, both of you," this leather-clad dude said. "Strip." 

I started to peel off my clothing, as fast as I could. It didn't take me 
long, as I only had on the T-shirt and the bikini, and when I turned to get 
a look at the naked bald dude, I tried not to smile. 

This fucker was not only bald on the head, but all over. He didn't have a 
single hair on his body, including hair near his cock. 

He did, however, have this huge fucking dick. It was almost twice the size 
of Harry's, and it was only then that I started to think of something, 
something I had never thought before, perhaps out of fear. 

Harry had a tiny dick. That was all there was to it. 

"All right, bitch," he said, handing me a scissors. "You're gonna tie my 
fucking chicken shit partner to that there chair, right there." 

I could tell that this guy was loving the look of my tits. He couldn't take 
his eyes off them. 

The bald dude sat on the chair, and his dick looked even bigger as it was 
sticking straight up in the air. I took some cord and wrapped it first 
around his chest, but then, the leather man told me to first tie his hands. 
The bald dude stood up, and turned his back on me, so I could tie his hands 
together. 

It was then that I felt this kind of power. I had never been with a bound 
man before. I almost forgot that we were both victims now, and I was gonna 
be bound any second, too. 

Once I had his hands bound, he sat again, and then I wrapped the cord around 
his chest, and tied him to the back of the chair. 

"Now, you, blonde cunt," he said to me. "Turn around." 

As soon as I did, he pulled my hands behind my back. He first tied my wrists 
together, probably ten times as tight as I'd tied the bald fucker's. I could 
feel the way my hands started to throb, due to lack of blood, seconds after 
he had tied me. 

Then, he tied my arms together .at the elbows, and that kept me in a weird 
kind of position. I really did hate the way that felt. 

After that, he started to laugh at me. 

"All right, cunt. Now you're really gonna get yourself fucked, but first, 
I'm gonna make sure you're wet enough and hot enough." 

With those words, he turned me around so I was facing the bald man, and then 
he pushed my head forward, so my lips were touching that bald dude's 
pleasure pole. I could smell a strong scent near the man's crotch. 

"Suck that fucker off to get him wet, too," the leather man said to me. 

And then, I felt my head being pushed down the dude's upraised shaft. I 
could feel myself being pushed down more, so his cock head was in my throat. 

Then, the leather dude started to sink to his knees behind me. I thought for 
sure he would eat my cunt, because that was what most men seemed to like to 
do. Harry didn't eat me as often as he fucked me or fingered me, but he did 
sometimes. 

Well, this dude didn't make a move for my cunt. Instead, I could feel his 
tongue starting to move near my ass crack. 

Then, he was flicking his tongue in and out of my ass-hole. He pried my hot 
ass cheeks apart to do it, and I could feel this kind of pain starting to 
surge through me as he began to probe with his fingers. 

When he felt me pulling away a little bit, he slapped my ass and laughed. 

"Hey, baby, you're gonna get more than a finger in your ass, so you might as 
well prepare yourself for it." 

And then, I could feel him ramming his finger in deeper. My ass was real wet 
from his saliva, and that kind of made it an easier slide for his fingers. 
But deep down, I thought I was gonna pass out. 

Luckily, by the time he was eating my ass, he wasn't holding my head, and 
though I continued to suck the bald man's dick, I didn't have to hold him in 
my throat and choke around him. There was some relief in that. 

This dude was fingering my ass-hole for the longest time, and he kept his 
tongue there, too, so that he kept spitting more into me. 

Then, he stood me up, by standing up first and pulling the back of my head. 
After that, he started to turn me around so I was facing him. 

"Now, you're gonna sit on his dick there so he can fuck your ass." 

"Shit, no," I said, thinking about how big that cock had been in my mouth. 

As he was pushing me back, I could feel that dick between my ass cheeks, and 
I knew that I would have to try and fight it. 

I made an attempt to kick the leather-jacketed man right in the balls, and 
he got pissed when I did that. Luckily, I ended up missing, because I have a 
feeling that if I had hit him, he would have really beat the shit out of me. 

As it was, for just the attempt that I made, he started to slap the shit out 
of me, holding my head by the hair, and backhanding me across the jaw about 
ten times. I thought I was gonna pass out. 

What he did then was just push me into his friend's lap, and as I felt the 
dick pressed between my ass cheeks, he got on his knees and started to tie 
my feet to the legs of the chair, and the poles holding the legs together. 

That way, I couldn't kick the fucker anymore. 

Then, he lifted me to a standing position once more, and he moved his hand 
down to his friend's cock. He just held it at the base so it would be 
sticking straight up, then pushed me right down on it, aiming the head at my 
ass-hole. 

I tried not to let him push me down, but there was no way for me to stop it. 
I could feel that thick cock head penetrating my ass-hole, and I thought 
that I was just going to die. The pain that ripped through my flesh was too 
much for me to handle, and at first, I opened my mouth to scream again. 

"Don't try it, bitch," I heard the leather man say, and he held his hand up 
as if to slap me across the face once more. 

I didn't want that, but as he was opening his jacket, to reveal no shirt 
under it, and opening his pants to push them down, I stood up. 

Or rather, I stood up as much as I could, with my feet bound like that. I 
stood up enough so that the bald man's dick fell out of me, and when the 
black-haired leather dude saw that, he seemed pissed as hell. 

He slapped me across the face, then reached for some rope. 

This time, he stood behind me as he held his friend's dick and guided it 
back into my ass, and as he was forcing me to sit, he took the rope, worked 
it through the ropes that kept my elbows bound together, then tied it to the 
back of the chair. 

That way, I couldn't even stand up enough for this man's dick to fall out of 
me, though I could move my ass up and down a little bit. 

The man with the black hair then took one more piece of rope. He tied it 
right around my left nipple, as tight as he could. 

Then, he got down on his knees in front of me. I could feel the way he was 
starting to eat my pussy, and I tried to concentrate on it. The cock in my 
ass was burning away inside of me, but the more I felt my ass muscles loosen 
up to accept it, the better I was starting to feel about the whole thing. 

Hey, understand me on this level, okay? I didn't like the idea of being 
raped like this at all, but shit, it was fucking happening and there was no 
way to stop it. I thought the best thing I could do, to keep me from totally 
freaking out and screaming, would be to just try and get into it. 

I figured out that if I squeezed my ass muscles, they would open. 

Then, as I started to feel this leather dude's leather rubbing against me, I 
kind of loved it. Also, his tongue was so wet that when he was licking my 
clit, I could feel my whole body tingling like mad. 

He kept my clit real stiff, and he kept pulling on that rope, too, so that 
he was tugging at my nipple most of the time that he was eating me. At one 
point, I felt him starting to suck hard on my clit, and his teeth began to 
close around it. He was biting into it, and that hurt like hell. 

When he started to grind his teeth back and forth, I thought he was ready to 
chew my fucking clit right off. 

I choked back the tears, but he just looked up and laughed. 

"Start moving your ass up and down, you cunt," he said, giving me just a 
moment's rest from the clit biting he was doing. 

I started to slide up and down that bald man's dick, just because I thought 
that I could move and keep this man from eating my clit so hard. His teeth 
managed to stay glued to my love button, however, much to my fucking 
distress. 

Still and all, when he started to stand up, and I got a look at his dick, I 
wasn't all that upset about what I knew would happen. I could see some come 
dripping from the slit, and his dick looked so big. 

He rammed it right into my pussy with one hard thrust, and I could feel the 
way my hot cunt had to stretch to take him in. I had never had to stretch to 
take in Harry's cock, because his wasn't that big. 

This leather man leaned forward and started to suck on one of my nipples 
while he was ramming me with that pole of his, and as he sucked one nipple, 
he kept pulling the rope tied to the other one, so he was stretching that. 

I started to move a little bit, too, and could feel the way my body was 
beginning to sweat as my pleasures were rising higher and higher. 

That was the whole thing which was amazing me. Although they were both 
raping me, and my body felt super-violated, I was getting turned on, perhaps 
for the very first time in my entire life. When I started to moan, this guy 
was calling me a slut, and all kinds of names like that. 

I wanted to spit in his eye, and ask him if I was such a slut, how come he 
was using me and getting off. But I kept thinking of the way he'd slapped me 
across the face, over and over again earlier. 

That could scare me enough to keep me from saying anything. 

I could feel the bald dude starting to throb in my ass-hole real soon, and 
when he came I was kind of relieved. I wasn't even moving that much at that 
point, because I was kind of wiped out, from the abuse and from the 
pleasure. 

But because he had come first, his dick started to go limp, and he fell out 
of me. I don't even know if the leather man knew about that, because he 
didn't make me try to sit on that dick again. 

He was sucking my nipple like mad, sometimes biting into it and grinding his 
teeth around in much the same way that he had been doing it to my clit. 
There were these moments filled with extreme pain, followed by moments 
filled with intense pleasure. 

It got more intense after the dick fell out of my ass-hole. 

For then, only my pussy was filled, and I loved the feeling of that cock 
starting to ram in and out of my pussy. 

Let me explain it this way. It was the very first time I'd had a cock in my 
pussy for more than a minute or so, because of Harry and the way he was that 
quick shot. Even though I was being raped blind, at least the cock kept my 
clit going. 

There was also something about the leather that was turning me on. Now 
before that time, I probably never even would have thought that leather 
turned me on. I can't even think of anything that I owned that was leather. 

But since he was so close to me, I could smell it. 

I was inhaling deeply, and the sweet scent of the leather was flooding my 
brain. I know for a fact that it was the leather scent which made my pussy 
start to throb around that fucker's dick, more so than his dick. 

When he felt my cunt spasming like mad, he started to moan. He pulled his 
mouth away from my nipple and told me that he was gonna shoot. 

As he started to come in me, I could feel the way his cock was throbbing, 
and when that happened, his dick was kind of making me stretch even more 
than I'd been stretching before. It was such a fucking turn-on. 

And you wanna know what else happened? That leather man didn't go limp after 
he had come in me once. His cock throbbed a hell of a lot, for a long 
fucking time, and then, he started to thrust again. 

No more come was shooting out, of course, but it was also like no blood had 
left his dick. He was still as hard as ever, and I started to moan, because 
having a hard hot dick in me for this long was making me come all over the 
fucking place. 

Well, I didn't even care about the bald dude behind me, though sitting on 
his dick, and just having it nestled between my ass, felt kind of nice. It 
was something that turned me on in a way, and even though I felt him getting 
hard, there was no way I was gonna ask for that cock in my ass-hole again. 

I don't think the other dude even cared about that. 

All he cared about was his cock in my pussy, and it was feeling good for 
him, I knew. As he got more and more sweaty, I could smell the leather 
getting wet, and that turned me on so much that I started to come all over 
again. 

Well, he came in me real soon, and I could feel the way his cock was filling 
me up again with thick loads of his come. 

Then, he started to pull himself out of me. His cock had started going limp, 
but I knew he would be able to fuck me longer, if he wanted to. He just 
looked at the watch he was wearing, then started to untie me. 

As he untied my feet and the rope holding me to the back of the chair, he 
just threw me on the floor, leaving my wrists and elbows bound. 

Then, he started to untie his friend, who seemed nervous. 

"You're still coming with me," he said to him. "I don't care if this is the 
last fucking job we pull off together. I'm not leaving you here so you can 
squeal on me, you fucking bastard shithead." 

He held the gun on baldie while he was dressing, and I could see that he was 
nervous. I honestly believed that the black-haired dude had it in him to 
kill, and got the feeling from baldie that he felt the same way, and that 
the reason he was so nervous was because he knew it, too, and thought he 
would be killed. 

Once baldie was dressed, the two of them ran into the bedroom, got the stuff 
they had put into this sack, then ran out of the house. 

They pulled the door closed, and I lay there, with come dripping out of me 
for the longest time, until Harry came home. I had thought of screaming for 
help, but felt too embarrassed to want someone else to come in and find me. 

When Harry did come home, I burst into tears. I think that I might have just 
been waiting for him to come in before crying, because I hadn't cried before 
then. After all, there was no one to hear it. 

I thought that my hands were going to fall off by then, because of the way 
my wrists had been bound, and he freed me, and helped me put on a robe. 

Then, we called the police, and I had to tell them everything. 

I could see that they were looking at me with some doubt, and from some of 
the questions that I heard that night, I suspected that they thought I lured 
the two men into the house for them to have me. 

"Do you always run around on the beach like that?" one cop asked. 

"It's your normal bikini," I said. "Millions of girls wear them." 

"Yeah. I take it then that millions of girls are asking for trouble." 

I wanted to slap him when he insinuated shit like that, but there was 
nothing that I could do. In the end, because of the way they kept 
interrogating me, we decided that we were just going to try and find these 
men and press charges against the robbery, but not the rape. It pissed me 
off and made me so angry. 

I was able to supply a lot of information so they could make sketches of 
what these men looked like, and I thought it would be so easy to find them 
After all, the bald man wouldn't be hard to spot. 

That night, Harry wanted to make love to me, but I just told him that my 
body was still sore from what happened that day. I could tell he was mad 
about that, which really pissed me off, if you want to know the truth. After 
all, think about what I had been put through, and all that shit. 

That was all I could think about that evening, in fact. I kept tossing and 
turning as I relived that rape over and over again in my mind. I could see 
the two of them so clearly, and two huge cocks. I could feel the cock 
burning through my ass-hole and then the other one, making my pussy flow 
with pleasure. 

Harry woke me up at one point in the evening to ask me what was wrong, and I 
told him nothing. He said I'd been moaning in my sleep. 

I started to think about the thing that had thrilled me the most when I'd 
been with those two men. It had not been the man's cock in my cunt, as much 
as the feeling I had had running through my body when I'd tied the bald man. 

For those few seconds, I had almost forgotten that I, too, was to be tied 
when this man was all tied up. I had felt a kind of power running through my 
body, and it was to be the first time I would ever think of that power. 

Anyway, what happened between me and Harry after that was all downhill, and 
we'd been in the valleys long before the rape. 

He kept wanting to know every detail about what those men had done, and 
exactly what I'd been feeling at each time. I believe that Harry was well 
aware of his problem with sex before he married me, and thought that since I 
was a virgin the first time and got off, I would never know what I was 
missing. 

But when he would make love to me after that rape, and his dick would shoot 
inside of me less than a few seconds after entry, I would groan with 
frustration. 

"Can't you ever stay hard for more than a few seconds?" I would ask him, and 
I didn't care if it was hurting his feelings. His unsatifying sex was sure 
as hell bumming me out, let me tell you that. 

Also, I would have preferred if he ate me more, but he never did, and I 
didn't like him fingering me all those times instead of fucking me, like he 
should have been doing. 

A year later, we were separated, and I got to keep the house. I didn't even 
want it because it brought back such bad memories but I got it, and a car. 

Now nothing had ever happened with the cops. They'd never caught the two men 
and whenever I would call up, I'd be given so many bullshit stories. 

Also, at that time, I met this dude who I took home with me once. He wanted 
me to tie him up and then abuse him, and I didn't really know how. I won't 
even go into detail now on how he taught me to do it. 

All that matters is that when I had him bound and was whipping him with this 
rope, I could feel my juices flowing like mad. I could feel my knees shaking 
because I was so excited, I could hardly stand up. 

He said he wanted to see me again, and gave me about fifty dollars to go out 
and buy some leather stuff that he wanted me to use on him. He wanted a 
whip, a cat o' nine tails, and a few dildoes. 

I didn't really know if I could use anything like that on a dude, but I'm 
glad that I went out to buy those things, because if I hadn't, I never would 
have seen that fucking bald bastard again. He worked in the sex shop I went 
into to buy the stuff. 

I knew he recognized me as he was ringing up my purchase, and that was what 
really made me sure it was him. You see, he was wearing this toupee which 
looked shitty, and maybe I wouldn't have recognized him had he not acted 
that way. 

But I said nothing. I just had the greatest idea, and I quickly ran home and 
got the pistol that my husband had bought a few days after the robbery. 

I sat in that fucking car for hours outside of the store, waiting for him to 
get off work, and as soon as he did, I walked up right behind him. 

I had the gun in my bag, but I had my bag near his back, and I let him know 
that I not only knew who he was, but would blast a hole right through his 
body if he did not follow me to my car. I tied his hands behind his back 
before I pushed him in. 

Then I walked around to my side and got it. I made sure I had the right man 
by pulling off that cheap toupee of his. 

I drove back to my house as fast as I could, and forced him out of the car 
with the gun. I was prepared to use all my new toys on him. 

I took him into my bedroom and untied his hands from behind his back, and by 
holding the gun on him, it was easy for me to get them tied to the bedpost. 
I think I really would have blown his brains out. 

After I tied his hands up, I started to rip his clothing open. 

His body was as hairless as it had ever been, and I could see that his cock 
was still the same size. He could see me eying his dick, and he smiled. 

"Yeah, you probably kept thinking about it, huh?" he asked. 

I was wearing my bikini, which I tended to almost always wear under whatever 
it was I had on over it. I hadn't worn the bikini to go shopping, but was 
more comfortable in it when I got home. 

His cock was twitching because he kept looking at me, and I was so pissed by 
his remark that I pulled out the leather cat o' nine tails. 

"Just watch who you're talking to, and remember who's in charge now, you 
mother." I screamed at him, and lashed his chest hard with the whip. 

I know I did it hard because at least three different strands ripped through 
the flesh on his chest, and he groaned with pain. 

I saw blood there, and I just had to laugh and then, whip him lower down on 
his belly, real close to his hairless crotch. I wanted him to know that I 
was a woman who would not hesitate to rip his cock off with a whip. 

His dick had even gone a little bit limp when I first lashed him, and I 
moved my hand to it and started to pump it up and down so that I would get 
some blood back into it. It was true, that I wanted his dick. 

I sat down on it when it was hard, and held the man's head up by taking my 
thick leather whip and wrapping it around his neck. I squeezed it tight to 
let him know that I might even choke him to death. 

"Now," I said to him, slapping him hard, "I want to know where your fucking 
partner is. I thought you might be dead because of him, but since I found 
you first, I want to know where that mother-fucker is." 

"I don't know," he said, and I reached behind his body and grabbed his 
balls. I pulled them real hard in their sack, and squeezed and twisted them 
so hard that he was groaning for mercy but I showed none. 

"You tell me where that fuckhead is, or you're dead." 

I could feel great pleasure from his cock inside of my pussy, but tha was 
not the thing which was turning me on as much as the power I had over him. I 
could see the way he was already starting to weaken as I squeezed his huge 
balls. 

"Tell me," I screamed at him, slapping him a bit with my other free hand. 

And he started to tell me that he wasn't really sure, but though his partner 
was at such and such an address. 

I wrote it down, but I didn't feel like I was finished with the bald 
bastard. I continued to ride his dick up and down until I came a few times, 
and I made sure that he wouldn't come. There were times when he would start 
to breathe like a man about to shoot, and I'd just slow my ride down. 

Then, I would wait for his cock pulsations to subside. 

I must have done it to him about five times, and finally, I pulled myself 
off his cock and left it sticking straight up in the air. 

"Hey, let me come," he was moaning. "You gotta let me come." 

A quick lash to his chest with the thick leather whip I'd first had around 
his neck, let him know that I didn't have to do shit. All I had to do was 
whip him as much as I wanted, and I didn't want to let him come. 

I pushed his legs up over his head then, and took out the dildo I had 
bought. 

"Hey, what the hell are you going to do with that?" he screamed. 

"You were the first dick in my ass-hole, so I want to be the first dick in 
yours." 

I rubbed some grease on it, though I realized that I didn't have to do it. I 
could have forced it into his ass-hole dry, and that would have taught him a 
lesson. I could have really made him squirm. 

As it was, he was squirming already, his body writhing with pain. I could 
hear him groaning about how he thought I was gonna kill him, but I didn't 
really give a shit about that, for I'd felt the same way once before, with 
him fucking my ass. 

"It was all his doing anyway," he said to me. "He forced me to do it to you. 
Don't get even with me. I was tied up, too." 

"I don't give two fucks about that," I let him know. "You still did it." 

I could see the way his cock had gone limp while I fucked his ass with the 
dildo, but you can bet that I didn't give a shit about that, either. 

In fact, I was having a hell of a lot of fun using it on him. I kept 
slamming it in and out of his ass, and I could see his balls bouncing up and 
down. I guess I went on with what I was doing for another reason. 

You see, I could see the way his ass was starting to get a little sore, and 
though I had been nice and had started to fuck his ass with a lubed dildo, I 
wasn't too nice for too long. You see, the lube started to wear off. 

Soon, he was moaning and squirming, and telling me that it hurt. 

Even later, I could see that there was another kind of lube on this dildo, 
and that was this bastard's own blood. 

I had made his ass bleed by fucking him for so long, and I started to turn 
the dildo around a little bit, to try and tear some of the skin off. I was 
twisting it in a clockwise direction, and this man opened his mouth and 
started to scream. 

I whipped his ass but good, this time getting his buttocks. I wasn't in the 
mood to have anyone come running to help him. 

I finally pulled that dildo out of his ass-hole, and I could see that his 
ass was starting to drip with blood. I though about what I could do. I could 
untie him and force him outside. The idea of pushing him onto the sand and 
letting the little grains of sand enter his ass-hole really thrilled me, 
only because I knew how much something like that would have to hurt him. 

But one thing kept running through my mind. Maybe he and his ex-partner were 
still pretty close after all, but maybe they were not. 

At any rate, the idea of being sent on a wild goose chase was not thrilling 
me too much, and that's what made me decide. 

I was going to keep baldie tied up to the bed until I went to check out his 
pal. If he lied to me, I was gonna kill him. 

I told him that as I started to put my clothing back on over my bikini, and 
when he said he would die if I left him there, I shook my shoulders. 

"Suit yourself, mother-fucker. I don't give a damn if you die." 

I put one towel under his ass, so the dripping blood would be absorbed there 
and I wouldn't have to worry too much about messy sheets. 

I put another towel into his mouth, stuffing it in, as a matter-of-fact, and 
then taking some tape and tying it around his mouth and the back of his head 
to make sure that he wouldn't spit it out. 

I washed off the dildo, then put my whips into the bag, along with my 
pistol. 

"I'm going to look for your friend now," I said to him. "I'm going there, 
and that's why you're staying here. He'd better be there. Now you did give 
me the right address, didn't you?" 

He was shaking his head yes, but his eyes bulged with fear. I could tell 
that he wanted to talk, but didn't want to go through taking the tape off 
his mouth, and taking the towel off. What I did want to do, desperately, was 
send more fear through him. 

I walked right over and held the pistol to his temple. 

"If you lied to me, your brains are gonna be lying all over this bed when I 
get back here, you bald ugly bastard," I said. 

He was actually sweating as I talked to him, and that turned me on. 

I ran out of the house, locking him in, then hopped into my car. The 
excitement of this revenge I was going to be taking was just making my pussy 
flow with the most intense pleasure I'd felt in the longest time. 

It was not so much the revenge, I knew, as it was the feeling of domination. 

Dominating that bastard had just turned me on so much. It had, in fact, 
turned me on more than it did when I would dominate my friend, that first 
time, and even the times that were to follow. 

The reason, I think, was because my revenge was justifiable, and I wanted to 
see those men suffer like mad. 

Later on in life, I would discover a part of me that wanted to see most men 
suffer, and once that would happen, my dominating would be complete. 

I was speeding to get where I was going, for that was how much I wanted to 
get that mother-fucker, and when I arrived at the address, I was rather 
shocked. 

It was a real ritzy apartment building, and I couldn't imagine this burglar 
living there. The thought of him having enough money to live in a place like 
that was really pissing me off, when I thought about the way he had robbed 
me blind. 

Luckily, the doorman wasn't there, and I just snuck off toward the elevator 
and pressed a button to take me up. The bald bastard had given me the 
address, and the apartment number, so that made it easier for me. 

As I approached the apartment, I could hear the sound of someone groaning. I 
couldn't figure out if she was groaning in pain or pleasure, but a few 
seconds later, I was to know one way or the other. I knocked on the door, 
and heard a gruff voice telling whoever it was out there (me, of course) to 
get the fuck away. 

Of course, I had no intentions of following those orders, especially when I 
recognized the voice that was telling me to get away. It was his all right. 
He had said enough things for that voice to have been recorded in my mind. 

I banged on the door again, then heard the sound of someone walking over. 

There was a peephole that he could look out of, and I moved to one side of 
the door and reached for my pistol. If he had gotten a look at me, I'm sure 
that he never would have opened the door to let me in. 

He started to walk away, I could hear, so I banged once more. 

"Now what the fuck is going on out here?" he asked, and I could hear him 
opening the door. He stuck his head out, and that was it. 

I pushed the pistol right against his temple, and cocked the trigger. 

"Don't you make a move now, you mother-fucker," I said to him. 

He turned and looked at me, and I could tell, just from the upper part of 
his body that was sticking out of the door, that he was naked. 

I pushed my way in, and when I looked over, I could not believe what I saw. 

There was this rope hanging from a beam in the ceiling, and connected to it 
was a ring, and then there was this other rope. 

Connected to it was a broom, and this black-haired bitch was kind of tied to 
that hanging broom, with her legs pulled back over it, and then tied to her 
wrists so that she couldn't really move too much. 

I knew it was his work, by his fucking trademark. There were two cords tied 
to her nipples, one on each. I remembered the way he had tied that one cord 
to my nipple and pulled it so hard, I though my tit would come off. 

He smiled at me when I looked back at him, almost as if he wanted to know 
whether or not I was admiring his art work. 

"Get some more fucking cord, you bastard," I said to him. "I'm gonna tie you 
up and then get revenge for what you did to me." 

He made, a move, as if he was going to get me and I held the pistol tighter. 

"I won't hesitate to blow your brains out. The cops have your description 
from over a year ago, and I think I could even get off for killing you. I 
think they'd be pretty happy that I did it, too." 

He looked over near the corner, and I saw a strjng of thick cord. 

I walked right over and cut a piece. The first thing I did was tie his 
wrists together in front of his body, so tight, that I could see the way his 
hands were throbbing seconds after I had him bound. 

I wanted to cut off the circulation. I was even thinking that the longer I 
kept him tied, the more of a chance there would be that the blood wouldn't 
circulate, and maybe he'd even have to have his hands cut off. 

"Not, get on your hands and knees," I said to him, and I tied some ropes 
around his upper arms and thighs, so that he was in a kneeling position. I 
made sure that I could pull his cock and balls through his legs, from behind 
and all. 

"Did he tie you up like this?" I asked the girl, as I started to peel off my 
clothing. "I mean, bitch, did he try to rape you?" 

"That's my wife," he said to me, smiling rather slyly. 

"Is that true?" I had to ask her, because I knew he was the kind of bastard 
who could lie about almost anything in the world. 

She shook her head, and I was real pissed. I thought that any bitch who 
would marry a man who would do that to her, had to be off her fucking 
rocker. I told her as much, and when she started to protest, I had other 
things to add. 

"Look, lady, I don't know if you know it, but last year this husband of 
yours not only robbed my house, but him and his bald partner raped me." , 
"You mean, Len?" she asked me, and I was hating her more and more, so just 
to let her know that, I grabbed the two nipple tying cords and yanked them. 

"I don't know what his fucking name was you stupid cunt. What the hell do 
you think he did, leave a calling card?" 

"It was Len," she said to me. "He's nothing but a half wit." 

"Well half of his wits was enough to tell me where I could find your fucking 
husband. I've been dreaming of this revenge for ages." 

"He raped you?" she asked me, and she seemed shocked. 

"That's about the gist of it, sister," I said to her, and I looked at him. 

I was completely naked by that time, and I could see his ass right in front 
of me. I wanted to let him know, right away, that I meant business. 

Therefore, I slashed his ass hard with the whip, with my very first stroke. 
I could see the leather cutting right into his ass cheek, and he groaned 
with pain as he felt it ripping through his skin. 

"You crazy lying bitch," he said to me. "It's true, baby. She is lying." He 
was trying to convince his wife that I was some sickie liar, and that pissed 
me off, perhaps more than anything else. I started to lash his ass over and 
over again, and I could feel myself coming hard. I thought about him, and 
the fact that had it not been for him, I probably never would have realized 
how much I liked leather, but that didn't make me want to help him any more. 
I mean, I just wanted to kill that fucker. 

Then, I thought about the dildo that I had. I reached into my bag and pulled 
it out. His ass, I kept thinking, was gonna get it raw, because he had been 
real mean to me. Besides, I was getting off on making him bleed. 

I slammed the dildo into his ass, and his wife started to scream. 

I decided that I would do something to get at both of those shitheads at the 
same time. The dildo had a few holes in the back, near the end of it. I 
think they were there so you could strap it onto a belt. 

I took the ropes that were hanging from his wife's tits and started to slide 
them through the holes. Then I tied knots, and when I stood behind him 
working that dildo in and out of his ass-hole, I was also ripping at her 
nipples. 

That was when I knew she loved to be abused, because she was moaning with 
pleasure. 

"You're a fucking sick bitch," I said to her, and she spit at me. 

No one could spit at me and get away with it as long as I was in charge, so 
I started to whip her buttocks until they were a little bit bloody, too. I 
loved the way I could control that whip, and make them bleed. 

She started to cry right away, but I told her I would gag her if she didn't 
shut her fucking mouth soon. She did. 

Then, I decided that I wanted to do something with that fucker's dick, which 
was so limp already, probably because of the way I kept abusing him. I took 
another piece of cord and tied it around the head of his dick. 

I pulled the cord hard, stretching his limp cock, right through his legs, 
then brought the cord around and over one of his buttocks, and tied the 
other end around his neck. That way, each time he moved in a certain way, 
the cord was pulling and stretching on his dick, making his squirm with 
pain. 

That was when I thought about something else, which turned me on. 

I could remember the way that fucker had loved sucking my pussy, only now, 
he would have to do it the way I wanted to. 

He had been the first man to make me come while eating me, although he had 
started to get brutal when he would bite my clit. I knew that as long as I 
was the one in charge I could get him to eat me and not have to worry about 
that. 

I moved right in front of him, and had to stoop down a little to get myself 
on the same level that he was on. 

Then, I pressed my hot pussy against his face, and told him to eat. 

At first, he kept his mouth closed, like he wasn't gonna do anything that I 
told him to do. I was happy about the way I'd bound his dick, and even 
happier about the fact that he was limp, because I believe that it honestly 
hurt him more when I tugged on the cord, and pulled on his limp dick. 

I pulled the cord that was around his dick, connected to his neck, and he 
screamed. 

"Now lick me, mother-fucker," I said, and as he started to, I could feel the 
way my juices wee just dripping out of me. 

He started to nibble on my clit, which was pretty hot, but then, when he was 
grinding his teeth around it, and trying to bite into it, I had to lash his 
back as hard as I could with the whip, cutting him there, too. 

His wife groaned when I did that to him, almost as if she had been the one 
to feel the whip ripping through her flesh. 

"Next time you try to bite me," I warned him, "I might just have to pull 
this rope so fucking hard, that I pull your fucking dick off. 

Now I doubt that your wife would like a man with no dick, but I wouldn't 
give a shit." 

And I pressed my cunt back against his face. 

It was then that I realized the dominating trip was really what turned me 
on. You see, I wasn't even concerned about his cock or whether or not it 
would fuck me. I was happy just forcing him to eat my pussy, and once again, 
his tongue felt so wet and good as he pressed it right against my clit. 

I made sure to keep my balance, though, and keep it all together, too. I 
didn't want him to think for a moment that I was going to let my pleasure 
get the best of me and not continue to whip and punish him. 

That's why every so often, when I would feel my pussy juices starting to 
flow more steadily, and feel my orgasm about to take me through a weird kind 
of rush where I felt I might lose control, I'd lash that mother-fucker. 

I could feel him sometimes trying to bite me, just as the lash would hit 
him, as if he thought he could get his revenge that way. 

Overall, I was coming so hard, that it was one of the best experiences of my 
life. 

But even when I was finished coming, and wanted to leave, I kept thinking 
that I hadn't gotten my jus revenge with this fucker. I had fucked his ass 
with the dildo, but not even as much as I'd done it to his partner. Of 
course, his partner had had some lube to start with, while he didn't. 

So just to make sure that I would really leave him hurt, with something that 
might always hurt him for the rest of his life, I moved back behind him and 
started to work that dildo in and out of his ass-hole so fucking fast. 

I could hear him groaning with pain, and see the way he had his head on the 
floor to kind of muffle his mouth against the floor. 

I twisted it around, like I had done it with his partner, but that time, I 
ended up leaving the dildo in him. 

You see, by the time I was finished, it was such a bloody mess, that I 
didn't really want to take it out. 

I thought an explosion of his blood would come shooting out of his ass. 

I started to get dressed, leaving them tied the way they were, then began to 
look around the apartment. I walked into the bedroom. 

Well, he took all he shit from me, so I thought I might as well take some 
back, along with some stuff he probably stole from other people. I found my 
gold wedding band, and a few others. I found some real diamonds. 

I even took our portable television back, because they had taken that. 

As I started to walk out of the apartment, he started to scream at me. 

"Hey, you fucking thief, put that stuff back. Put it back." 

"Hey, mother-fucker, remember who you took this from to begin with." 

I knew that they could both die if I left them bound, and I wanted to shut 
him up anyway. I walked right over to him and whacked him on the side of the 
head with my portable television. That knocked him out cold, and I didn't 
untie him completely, but did loosen the bonds so he would be able to untie 
himself. 

When he got up, that is. I could hear her yelling to him, trying to wake him 
up, but I was already running down the hall, and soon, out the building. 

I got back to my place and the bald fuckhead was still bound to the bed. I 
decided to work his cock up, and I started to move my mouth down on it. 

Slowly, the blood filled his shaft. I think he wanted anything to turn him 
on because of the way his ass was starting to feel sore. The bleeding had 
stopped, but I'm sure he was gonna have scabs in his ass for a long time. 

When his cock was hard, I rode it up and down for a long time, making myself 
come, but making sure that he didn't come until I wanted him to. I did let 
him come, mind you, because I wanted to feel a load shot into my pussy. 

Then, after he came, I knocked him out and carried him out to the beach. I 
just threw him on the sand, with his clothing next to him. I made sure that 
he was lying on his back so the sand would get into his ass. 

I called my friend a few minutes later, the one I had bought all the stuff 
for, and told him that he had to come pick me up. 

The reason, of course, was because I didn't want either one of these men to 
ever come back and find me. I knew I had to give up the house. I think I 
knew I would have to give it up before I even got even with those fuckers, 
because they did know where I lived, and I didn't want them to come back to 
get me. 

The last time I saw my little house was when Mike was driving off with me, 
into the sunset, so to speak. He said that he would handle selling it for 
me, and I told him that he'd better get me a good price. 

I commanded him to get me a good price, and I knew he loved it. 

When we got back to his place, in fact, I slipped into a leather bra he had 
bought, then picked up my thick whip. I had washed all the blood off of 
that, and as I stood in front of my slave friend, I told him to strip and 
get on his knees and eat my hot pussy as fast as he could. 

He was so eager, that he was ripping at his clothing while his mouth was 
already down near my pussy, licking and sucking my clit. 

I could feel my pleasures flowing through my body, and I let the leather 
dangle over his hard cock. Each time I saw the leather touching his cock 
head, I would hear him moaning, and I looked down and saw the way his dick 
twitched. 

Next, I told him to lay back. I started to realize how much more I enjoyed 
being on top when I fucked a man. 

That was because I could control the rate that I moved on the man. Since I 
was always aware of what was happening inside of my own body, when I would 
feel myself about ready to come, I could ride the dick faster and harder, 
which was just what I ended up doing, so my explosions were sensational. 

Mike was moaning, and thrusting up, and since I didn't have the dildo with 
me, I decided to use my fingers. I drove them into his ass and he was 
squirming with a combination of pain and pleasure combined. I could hear him 
moaning about how my fingers were just turning him on so much, and would 
make him come real soon. 

I had had enough orgasms for the evening, and when he exploded inside of me, 
I was working my pussy muscles around 

his dick so they would suck the cream out. I could hear him moaning so loud, 
and he was telling me that he wanted me to be his mistress always, which 
sounded good for a while. 

I was with Mike for about a year or two. I kind of lose track. I just got 
bored of him after a while, and once I had my house sold, I knew I had money 
to travel, which was just what I felt like doing. 

I split on him one day without telling him, though I took all of the leather 
and dildo toys, to continue my search for people to dominate. 

I've learned something, from all of these couples. The harder you do it, the 
more you send fear through them, and the more you end up satisfying them. 
Though I've never drawn as much blood as I did with that black-haired dude 
and his wife, all I have to do is draw a little blood from the husband when 
I'm with other couples, and that's enough to let them know I mean serious 
business, and scare them shitless. 

And I do mean serious business. Fucking serious business. 

THE STORY OF MIRANDA 

Sometimes a woman just has to do certain things to keep her man, and I guess 
I'm that kind of a woman. Of course, I would only do it to keep the right 
man, and maybe you're wondering what my idea of the right man is. 

Rich. That's all that counts with me. Rich. Money dripping from his pores. 

Sometimes my friends will look at me when I go out with Roger, wondering 
what I would ever see in a man like him. 

You must understand that Roger is short, and bald, and a little on the 
rotund side, but there are still some good things about him. His bank 
account, for one. 

Anyway, he knows that I like about him, which is one of the things that 
makes me end up liking him even more. There are no pretensions in our 
marriage, there never were, and I doubt there ever will be. 

I was with my friend Shirl at a bar when she first noticed him cruising me, 
and I decided to play along with him. Why not let this loser buy me a drink, 
I kept thinking, and soon he had bought me many. 

Soon he was taking me home, though I didn't let him in to fuck me. He said 
he wanted to see me again and again, and that sounded cool. 

Then one night, when we were kind of high, he started to tell me that he was 
looking for a certain kind of woman to complete his life. 

"You're not it," he said to me. "For one thing, you're too old." 

"How fucking dare you. I'm only in my mid-thirties." 

"And that's a fucking old maid back where I come from, you know." 

He laughed about that, and I wanted to slug him, but he went on. 

"You see, much as I could probably get into having sex with you, you're 
really not what I like in a woman. But I want to be married to someone, 
someone that I can fuck on occasion, but someone to do even more." 

"What do you want done, Master?" I asked him, joking around. 

"I want you to get me slaves," he said to me. "I know that you're bi, baby." 

How he had known that, I don't think I'll ever know. Maybe you can tell when 
a woman is into both men and women if you study her enough and see where she 
tends to look. I'll turn my head if I see a hot looking bitch walk by, just 
as I'll turn my head if I see some hot looking man walk by. 

"Slaves?" I asked him, smiling. "What do you want them for?" 

"To play with. A slave I can play with and then dispose of." 

"Oh? And don't you want to play with me?" 

"You don't want to play the way I do," he said to me. "I can assure you of 
that." 

Now I was being a bit of a haughty bitch. It really pissed me off that this 
fucker didn't think I could play his way, so I told him to try me. 

Well, that evening was one of the first and last times he ever did it to me 
the way that he gets off doing it. He stripped me, revealing my large tits 
with the stiff brown nipples, and my brown pubic patch and cunt lips. 

Then, he tied my hands behind my back and pulled the rope tight. After that, 
he started to stick pins in my tits. No, they weren't really pins. They were 
fish hooks, and let me tell you they fucking hurt like hell. I thought that 
I was gonna die when he pushed one right through my nipple, because I know 
how hard they are to take out. 

Then, he forced me onto my knees in front of him, and he pulled his pants 
open in a matter of seconds. Roger had this really huge dick, the kind that 
I'm sometimes afraid to handle, because they're so big that you think 
they're gonna rip you open. 

"See," he said o me. "Most women are afraid to come near ths big dick. God 
made me ugly as sin, but gave me a big dick, as if He thought it would make 
up for it. Well, it doesn't, because even if you find a bitch who loves a 
dick, and loves a big one, most are scared of them this big." 

He forced me onto my knees, then started to fuck my face. 

Each time that thick cock head of his ripped into my throat, and even 
stretched my throat wide .apart, I thought I would choke to death. Luckily, 
he kept telling me, he would not abuse me as much as he would a real slave. 

What he was doing to me then was a kind of demonstration. But at one point 
he rammed his cock deep into my mouth, so the head was jammed into my 
throat, and he held himself there for ages. I was gagging and salivating 
around his cock shaft, and he was laughing like a mean mother-fucker. 

"See, bitch. I won't even hold you too long like this, but if I had a slave 
I would hold her until I was through." 

He meant, of course, that he would hold her down on his dick until he was 
ready to shoot off, and that could take a while. 

You see, and I would only learn this much later in life, Roger's father 
taught him that women were nothing more than the dog shit on the streets, 
and they were meant to be abused and beaten. Though I never told Roger what 
I thought, I believe his father just told him that because he knew how ugly 
his son was. 

He probably realized that most women would laugh at the way Roger looked, so 
taught him to do it this way so no one would ever laugh. 

I know that I wasn't laughing as he pulled his prick out of my mouth, and 
then pushed me back on the carpet. He raised my legs up and then slammed his 
cock into my pussy with one hard thrust, that had me screaming. 

"Shut up, you stupid cunt," he said, and he slapped me across the face, then 
pressed his hand over my mouth to muffle the screams. 

I was used to getting fucked, of course, but his was a dick of death. I was 
even a little wet when he started, and would be getting wetter as he went on 
fucking me, but the size of his cock was just one of those sizes that's 
impossible to handle when you're a normal woman with a normal-sized cunt. 

He seemed to know it, too, and I could tell that he was slowing down a 
little bit to try and make me get turned on. 

When his cock head was just between my cunt lips rubbing over my clit, that 
turned me on, and soon, I got used to his size. 

However, Roger had to go about it real slow in order to make me get used to 
his enormous size, and he told me that he would never do it that way with a 
slave. A slave was to be abused, and if she didn't get'used to his size, 
then she would just have to feel pain the whole time, until he was ready to 
come. 

When he did start to come in my cunt, I could feel waves of pleasure flowing 
through my body. I started to come a little bit, and noticed that my pussy 
was hardly even spasming because his cock was so big, that it couldn't. 

He just shot out all of his load into me, then pulled back. 

"Now that was easy, wasn't it, baby?" he asked me, with something of a sly 
smile on his face. "Real nice and easy." 

Pulling the hooks out of my tits was making me bleed a little bit, and my 
pussy was real sore after the whole thing. 

"Now let me get this straight," I said to him. "If I marry you, you'll give 
me anything I want, and all I have to do is get you slave girls." 

"That's all," he said to me, and he smiled. 

And so, we were married, and the very first night when we were in Acapulco 
on our honeymoon, we were sitting in the dining room, and he saw this 
luscious brown-haired thing sitting all alone on one side of the room. 

She had long brown hair and two of the most lovely eyes I'd ever seen. They 
were real big and bright. When she stood up for a second, I could see she 
had a decent enough figure, though she lacked in the tit department. 

"Tell me something, Roger. What exactly are you going to do to her?" I 
asked, because I was a little nervous. She looked somewhat young and naive, 
and I didn't want him really hurting her that badly. 

"That's no concern of yours, though you can watch," he said. "But don't you 
dare try to interfere until I'm finished. If you do, you'll be punished." 

"Well then, excuse me. I'll meet you back in the room, lover." 

I stood up and walked over to her table. She was dining alone, and I asked 
her if I could join her. She seemed happy to have some company, then 
explained that she'd come down to Acapulco with her friend Nan, who had met 
someone the first day and was now spending all her time with this man. 

"So then, you're basically alone," I said to her, trying to feel her out and 
see if I could tell where her head was at. 

"Yeah. I'm pissed at Nan, too. She had me thinking that she was ... well, we 
were pretty close, and then she goes and does a turn-around." 

I knew that this girl, whose name was Cindy, was a lesbian, or at leas bi. 
She didn't have to say it to let me know that she and Nan had been lovers 
when they came down, but that Nan had gone the dick route. 

"Well, I'm looking for some fun," I said to her. "We can go back to my 
room." 

"Far out," she said. "I'm horny as hell." 

I turned and winked at my husband as I led Cindy out of the dining room, 
toward our room. I figured that he would give us a little time before coming 
in. 

I hadn't even thought about the fact that Cindy had been looking around the 
dining room while Roger and I had been eating. She started to ask me who the 
ugly dude I was with was, and I told her it was my brother. 

When we were in the room, I closed the door, then led her to the bed. 

When I'm with a woman, I usually like to take the aggressive role, and it 
was no different with Cindy. I started to kiss her on the neck, and as I 
was, I moved my hand to her blouse buttons and opened them slowly. 

Her tits were cone-shaped, and small like I had thought. The nipples were 
pretty big, however, and I slid my lips around one and felt it stiffen in an 
instant, without even using my tongue at all yet. 

When I did start to flick my tongue back and forth over her nipple, I could 
hear the way that she was moaning nice and loud. 

I pressed my hand between her legs, and felt her close her legs nice and 
tight, as if she was loving the way my hand felt there. 

It didn't take long before I had her flat on the bed, naked. 

She trimmed her pussy patch, I could tell, and I liked that. I started to 
suck on her brown cunt hairs, while she was moaning about how fucking 
sensational this was feeling. I think she even said, at one point, that she 
could easily love a woman like me. 

I hated her saying all this shit and you can understand why if you realize 
that I knew I was setting this cunt up. That was just what I was doing. 
Setting her up for my ugly big-dicked husband to use as he pleased. 

And I didn't even know what he was gonna do, though he had told me that the 
brutal things he did to me weren't that bad compared to what he was capable 
of. 

I started to lick her cunt though, spreading her pussy lips so I could flick 
her little clit back and forth fast and hard. I loved the way it tasted when 
her juices began to surge and flow into my mouth, and she was moaning hard 
as she tried to catch her breath. Her clit was throbbing under my tongue 
touch. 

A few seconds later, I could hear the door opening. I don't think that she 
heard it right away, for I noticed she had her eyes closed. 

I saw him moving closer to the bed, and perhaps she just sensed that there 
was another presence in the room. She opened her eyes, and before she could 
let out the scream, his hand was over her mouth, with a chloroform rag 
covering her nose and mouth. 

Of course, I didn't know that at first. I saw her pass out, and when I 
started to cry because I honestly thought he'd killed her, he laughed, and 
he slapped me hard across the face once again. 

"Stupid bitch. I didn't kill her. Sometimes you can be so dumb." 

Then, I watched as his cock was growing in his pants. I could see the huge 
bulge that was starting to grow there, and he rubbed it as he just ran his 
other hand up and down her naked body. When he spread her cunt lips and saw 
all the cream, he smiled at me and made some kind of remark about what a 
cunt eater I was. 

Then, I watched as he took this leather gag out of the suitcase. He strapped 
it around her mouth, connecting it to these earrings she had on, that were 
pierced through both of her ears. There was this leather band connected to 
the front of the mask and I had no idea what it was there for until he bound 
her arm through it. 

I didn't even catch the way he started to tie both of her arms to one of her 
legs, so she couldn't even move that much. It was all very complicated, mind 
you, and since my eyes were still kind of teary, as I was wondering what the 
fuck I had done, I didn't really even try to take note. 

I did take note of what he did to her nipples, though, because he had done 
something similar to mine. He took a string that had two fish hooks 
connected to it, and then he pushed one through her nipple, and the other 
right into her navel. 

That was when Cindy first showed signs of life again for I could hear her 
groan, though she didn't open her eyes right away. 

He tied a string around her thumb, and tied the other end of it around her 
nipple so tight, that I could see the brown dot throbbing. 

After that, he sat her on the floor, and started to slap her across the 
face. Now I knew what his slaps were like, so I knew that he was hurting 
her. As she opened her eyes, he was starting to get undressed. 

"Hello," he said to her. "I see that you and my wife were starting to get it 
on. I think you're a pig for trying to take my wife away from me. But that's 
all right. I'm going to make you my slave, now." 

He was soon completely naked, and let me tell you that it was not such a 
wonderful sight to see this man naked. As a matter-of-fact, it was kind of 
gross, but I could never say anything like that to him. 

The thing that one tended to notice the most when seeing him naked, was his 
cock, because the rest of him was so large and gross, that his cock stood 
out. 

On a nicer looking man, it would probably be the most proud, powerful weapon 
in the world. On him, it looked like a tool of vengeance. I was convinced 
even more, just then, that his father had to have known how ugly he was, and 
how his cock was the only thing he had going for him. 

Cindy was terrified. As her tits heaved up and down, I could see that there 
was some blood dripping from her nipple, because of the fish hook. She gave 
me a look which let me know she was very angry with me. 

He started to slap her across the face with his cock, and I could see the 
way she kept trying to move her head. Then, he opened one side of the gag so 
it fell from in front of her mouth, and he was rubbing his cock against her 
lips. 

"Tell me how much you want to suck my dick," he told her. 

"Are you crazy? The only thing I'd like to do with that dick is cut it off." 

I wanted to warn her not to say things like that, but he did. He pulled her 
hair and when she screamed, I saw his entire shaft disappear between her 
lips. I saw the way she was choking on it as his cock head invaded her 
throat. 

He did not hold himself in her mouth for too long. He pulled back after a 
few seconds, and rubbed the saliva onto his shaft. Then, he pulled at her 
tit that had the nipple all tied, and he was laughing. 

"Now, who is your Master, you bitch?" he asked her. 

"I don't have any masters," she said. "I hate all men, and you're the 
perfect reason why. You think you're so hot because you have that dick? Well 
let me tell you buster, it's the only thing you got worth anything. You're 
ugly as sin." 

He reached for this leather whip, and suddenly moved behind her. I saw the 
way he started to raise the whip up and lash her flesh over and over. 

I could see the way it was cutting into her back, and as she tried to crawl 
onto her hands and knees, he got down on his knees behind her. 

"Now you tell me who the Master is, you cunt," he said, and he ripped into 
her body by slamming his cock into her pussy. I heard her groan with pain, 
and I wanted to do something to help her. 

I quickly stripped off my skirt and panties and moved in front of her. 

I know that sometimes when I'm with a man that I don't like, I can get off 
by dreaming about pussies. There is nothing that a cunt can do to ever harm 
a woman, the way a man's cock can. A cock can be a loving weapon, but let's 
not forget that it can also be a tool to kill with. 

He was ripping her pussy apart and she was hating it, so I moved my cunt in 
front of her face, thinking that she could suck it. 

She started to dig her tongue between my cunt lips, and I felt her wiggling 
my clit back and forth, but only for a few seconds. 

For as soon as she had it between her teeth, she bit into it. 

"Why you fucking bitch," I screamed at her, and I slapped her. 

"He's killing me," she started to scream. "I don't want to lick you when 
this bastard is "killing me. He's killing me." 

I looked at her and could see the way her whole face was filled with pain. I 
didn't want him to really hurt her so much. 

This was to be the first, and very last time, that I would interfere with 
him. 

I walked behind him as he was thrusting hard, still trying to get her to 
admit that he was the Master, not only of her, but over the whole world. He 
kept ramming his dick in and out of her ass to try and make her say it. 

"Stop, please," I said, and when he wouldn't, I wrapped my arm around his 
neck and pulled him back, so he fell onto his ass. 

Of course, that mammoth dick of his fell out of her, and I heard her let out 
a sigh of relief. I felt happy that I'd saved her. 

I did not feel happy about what happened next. 

Roger sat up; and he glared at me with much anger. He suddenly reached for 
his leather whip again, then lashed it out at me. He cut right through one 
of my tits, and there was blood dripping from it, making me tremble with 
fear. 

"We made a deal, you fucking bitch," he said to me. "We made a fucking deal 
and you couldn't even stick to it. We made a fucking deal." 

I tried to get up to run, but he was too fast. Somehow, he tackled me and 
then pulled my hands behind my back. He tied them with the leather whip, so 
that I could not pull myself free at all. 

He reached for something. It was a can of grease, and I had no idea why he 
wanted to grease up his cock to fuck my pussy. 

It was because he wanted to fuck my ass. He knew how much his cock could 
hurt my cunt, but it could turn me on when he was nice. He wanted to make 
sure that I was going to feel pain, the kind of pain a girl being punished 
is supposed to feel. He was doing it to make sure I would learn and always 
remember. 

I was pushed face forward across the bed, and then he slammed it into me. 
When I started to scream, he held my mouth covered, and as he was thrusting 
in and out of my ass, driving into me each time he thrust in, I could hear 
him whispering. 

. "Never. Never. Never do it again. If you ever do that again, I could kill 
you. I could really kill you. We made a deal." 

I could feel the way his cock started to throb inside of me a few seconds 
later, and I was happy that the ass fuck took only about a minute. Still, 
that minute of invasion made me feel a pain in my ass for the next week, and 
I couldn't sit for a number of days after he that evening. 

With his cock semi limp, he moved back to Cindy, and rammed it into her cunt 
from behind. I think she had learned a valuable lesson from what she had 
just seen, because the next time he started to ask her if she was his slave, 
she said yes. 

"Then tell me how good a Master I am," he said to her. 

She started to make up all this shit. 

"You're my true Master because your cock is so big and you can fill me up 
better than any other cock in the world. And when you're ready to come I can 
feel the gism just filling me up all the way." 

He was getting so turned on that I could hear him moaning loud and soon, I 
knew that he was coming inside of her hot cunt. 

He stood up and walked over to me, then untied me. 

"Take care of her and get her out of here," he commanded, and then he walked 
into the bathroom, where he stayed until she left. 

I did untie her and she started to get dressed. I could tell that she was 
having a lot of trouble even walking straight, and she glared at me. 

"You're really sick to be with a guy like that," she said to me. "I think 
you're just as fucked up as he is. You'd have to be, knowing what he-likes 
to do, and staying with him. I hope you both die soon." 

I was crying a little bit when she left because I kind of had a heart. When 
Roger asked me what I was crying about, and I told him, I could tell that he 
was angry. 

"As we do more and more of them, you'll learn that it's best to keep a cold 
hear when it comes to dealing with them. They're all sluts anyway." 

And he was to be right, though it would take me some time before I could 
learn to feel nothing as I watched him abusing other girls. That did not 
mean I would try to interfere with what he was doing to them. 

I was not that stupid. I had learned my lesson that first night, and I was 
kind of happy that the next incident didn't occur until a few months later, 
when we went for a trip to the 

Bahamas just to get away. 

We had been back in the city for a while, and he just got bored. 

Now the best thing about living in the city with him was that I had my own 
room, and I could come and go as I pleased. We had servants to wait on us 
hand and foot, so I never had to worry about being there to make his dinner. 

However, when we went on vacation, the very first night, he told me to pick 
someone up, and that was just what I did. 

Once again, I brought her back to our hotel room. 

Her name was Linda, and she was a cute redhead with huge tits. I started to 
go down on her, and I was sucking at her pussy like it was the best fucking 
thing in the world. I must have made her come about seven times by the time 
he came into the room. 

That time, he snuck in and after he knocked her out with the chloroform, he 
just tied her arms and legs to the bed. 

He covered her eyes with a blindfold so that she couldn't see him, and 
before he woke her up, he told me something. 

"You just watch and see what women are really like," he said. "You just 
watch and see the way a woman will love a cock and make a man her master 
just because she has the cock near her mouth, and loves it." 

He started to slap her across the face, and she started to come to. I could 
tell that she was frightened, and who wouldn't be, being blindfolded and 
bound. But then, he started to move his cock near her mouth. 

She stuck her tongue out and licked it gently. Then, he rammed it into her 
throat and was almost sitting on her face as he did it. 

I could hear her gagging on his throat-invading dick. 

He pulled his cock out of her mouth then and sat on her belly. I could see 
him starting to press her tits together, and he slid his cock back and forth 
between them. She was moaning really loud, as I heard him talking. 

"Now tell me who the Master is," he said to her. 

"God, you have such a big dick," I could hear her moaning. "I don't think 
that I've ever felt a dick as big as that." 

"And what do you think of a dick as big as this?" he asked her. 

"It could only belong to a master man," she said, and I could see the way 
she kept sticking her tongue out to try and lick his cock head. 

I knew how much she loved that dick then, but I had to keep wondering 
whether she would have felt the same way had she been able to look at him. 
After all, his cock was the only thing he had going for him, and I sensed 
that if she had gotten a look at him, she would hate him. 

It made no difference. He was about to come, and as he did, he let her suck 
the thick head of his dick between his lips. I could hear her slurping at 
his dick like some come hungry cunt, and he smiled at me. 

"Now," he was moaning to her, "I want you to beg me to fuck you. I want to 
hear you begging me to give you my dick." 

"Oh shit, man, I want that hot dick fucking my pussy so bad," she was 
moaning. "I want to feel that hot Master dick ripping me apart. I want to 
feel it so fucking bad that you just have to give it to me." 

He looked at me again, as if to let me know that he liked this girl because 
she was saying just what he wanted to hear. 

I said nothing, as it was not my place. My place was to stand there and 
watch him. 

He started to slide down her body, and he untied her feet so he could push 
them up over her head. I saw him rubbing his dick against her cunt. 

That was when she must have realized the size of the dick she was dealing 
with. I could kind of remember how it had been with me the first time. When 
he was in my mouth, I realized that he was big, but when he moved down near 
my cunt, the realization just really ended up slapping me across the face. 

He was a fucking monster, I felt when he was in my cunt. 

She started to scream as he slammed it into her, and once again, I was just 
grateful for the fact that it was not me he was fucking. 

He did cover her mouth, and slapped her a few times, as a reminder that he 
was the Master and she should be loving it. But she didn't seem to be able 
to get into it, and in many ways, I was pretty happy. 

I have fears, you see, and luckily, they've never been met. 

I have fears that one day, he'll meet a girl and blindfold her, and she'll 
fall in love with his dick so much, that he'll love her, too. A young thing, 
of course, younger than me, who might even think he's handsome. 

Or at least lie and let him think she does, because of all his money. 

Just the fact that this redhead was hating the feeling of his cock made me 
know he could never have any feelings for her, and that turned me on and 
made my pussy pulse with pleasure. I could tell that Roger liked it when I 
started to play with my pussy, and he even told me to get on the bed. 

As I straddled her, with one leg on each side of her body, I moved my cunt 
to his face. 

He started to eat me so well. I could see the way he kept thrusting, and he 
was sucking hard at my clit, making my juices flow. Then he started to flick 
my clit back and forth as fast as he could, and I was coming even harder. 

It was a wonderful feeling. My whole body kind of felt like it was going 
through the orgasm, not just my pussy, and I could tell that he looked at me 
with love. 

For he was looking up at me, and even though I tried not to look at him for 
too long, because it tended to turn me off, I still stared at him a bit. 

Then, as he sucked out a hot load from me, I could hear him moaning loud, 
and hear her groaning louder. I knew that his dick of death had to be 
throbbing inside of her pussy, as he was getting ready to come, and I was 
right. 

He started to shoot off into her cunt, and he was sucking me so well while 
he did that. After he had come in her cunt, he pulled out of her and got off 
the bed. 

"Get rid of her, darling," he said to me, and that time, when he disappeared 
and I untied her, we had some time to talk. 

She couldn't believe that I could handle a man with a dick that size, and I 
didn't want to let the naive bitch know that I never had to. I didn't want 
to let her know that was her job, and not mine. 

She did want to know what he looked like, and I suspected that she might try 
to look for us later on, but I didn't tell her. After all, I thought that 
although her cunt was sore, she must have had some decent memories of the 
fuck. Let her think some hot man had done it to her, I kept thinking. 

After she left, he let me suck his cock off, which I must admit was rather 
nice, as he used no force, but just lay back on the bed. 

I ran my tongue up and down his cock shaft, running it along the underside 
so that I could suck his hearty balls into my mouth, too. 

He was moaning really loud as I was doing it, and I must admit that when I 
just concentrated on his dick, I didn't mind what I was doing at all. It was 
a fantastic looking shaft, so proud and thick, and I could imagine that a 
nice looking man was attached to it, and that turned me on. 

When I was sitting on his face as I was sucking him, it was even better. 
Then I didn't have to look at any of his body. 

As I started to flood my juices all over his face, I could hear him sucking 
hard and moaning loud, and a few seconds later, his dick was filling my 
mouth with the sweet cream from it. I just licked and sucked him dry. 

Now there's only been one time that I feared a girl might really steal my 
husband away from me, but overall, there was nothing I could do. I just had 
to hope that she was playing his game, and that he would learn she was. 

Her name was Sue, and she was one of the most lovely blonde's I'd ever seen 
in my life. Roger and I had gone off to Turkey for a visit, and he had a 
friend who owned this beautiful palace. He decided tha he wanted to play 
King, and one night we went into town, and I picked Sue up. 

I took her back to our place and started to make it with her in the bed. 
Roger had told me that he wanted me to tie her up when I was finished, and 
then bring her before the King, which of course, was him. 

It was very hard to get her bound, let me tell you, because she was a horny 
bitch, and I knew that I would have to knock her out somehow. 

I kept sucking her pussy over and over again, in the hopes that she would 
start to come and just pass out. Finally, I had to take this log lying near 
the bed and hit her over the side of the head. 

Then, I pulled her hands behind her back and tied them to one of the logs. I 
decided to shove one right between her legs, close to her pussy, because I 
thought my husband was going to want to fuck her, and was already a little 
jealous. 

I tied the log to her legs, so she couldn't pull them too far apart. 

Then, I led her to his court, as he liked to call it. She was already up by 
the time I had her standing in front of him. 

He was wearing a long robe, and nothing under it. I could see the way his 
dick was sticking right out and forming a kind of tent. 

"You have been caught playing with the Queen," he said to her. "The King can 
have your head for something like that." 

She looked at him, and I could tell that Sue was just looking at his cock 
bulge, and that was really all she was interested in. 

"How about if I gave the King some head," she said. 

He smiled, and started to pull his robe up. Then, I saw her get on her 
knees, and she managed to crawl toward him, even though the log between her 
legs went past her knees, and her knees weren't really even touching the 
floor. As a matter-of-fact, I could see that the log was really pressing 
into her pussy. 

And yet, she didn't seem to feel enough pain to make her want to pull back. 

She leaned forward, causing the log to press against her cunt more, then 
started to slide her lips all the way down his dick. 

I couldn't believe it. I had never seen anyone deep throat him without being 
forced to do it, but she managed to move her mouth all the way down to the 
base of his cock, so his balls were pressed against her chin. 

I could hear her gagging around his cock, but she didn't pull back for a 
long time. 

Then, she started to give him a blow job like I'd never seen before. Her 
lips worked their way up and down his shaft rapidly, and I could see the way 
they were even opening and closing around his cock, so that she was kind of 
sucking him and kissing him at the exact same time. 

At times, she slid her lips down along the underside of his cock, and sucked 
his balls into her mouth. I heard him moan a lot when she did that, and she 
moaned as he was slapping her across the face with his dick. 

Then, he started to ram it back into her throat, and she let out such a 
passion filled moan, that I knew she had to be coming. 

He started to fill her mouth with his come, and I could see the look of lust 
in her eyes, which really started to scare me. For I could see the look of 
lust in his eyes, too, and I kept thinking that if he dropped me for this 
bitch, I was going to have to try and take him for as much as I could. 

When he pulled his cock out of her mouth, I could see that there was some 
come on her lips, and she licked it off, seductively. 

"God, you are a King," she said to him. "You have the cock of a King, and 
the looks of a King. You are a King through and through. I love it." 

"And does the peasant bitch want the King to fuck her hot hole?" 

"Shit, yes," she moaned. "I want to feel that dick ripping through me." 

"You want to feel it ripping through your pussy?" he asked her, and she 
moaned that she wouldn't want to have it anywhere else. 

I watched as he untied that log, so he could get to her cunt, and he pushed 
her back on his throne. Then, he pushed her legs up and slammed that dick of 
death right into her. Much to my surprise, she moaned loud. 

"Yeah, fuck me with this pleasure pole. Fuck me blind," she was saying, and 
I saw him starting to do it. 

He would pull his cock all the way back, so that just the head was between 
her cunt lips, then he would ram himself in all the way. 

I thought that I could see some blood on his dick, but it turned out to be 
just the red blood pulsing through hs shaft, and her come all over it. 

"Tell me how much you love this, cunt," he moaned to her. 

"God, I could be fucked by this cock all night," she was saying. "I could 
have it fuck any hole I have in my body. And such a handsome King who owns 
this proud cock. It's the kind of cock one would expect to find on no one 
but the King." 

When she said things like that, I saw a look on his face that kind of let me 
know something else was going on in his head. However, he could be a 
deceiving mother at times, so I didn't even know what to make of it. 

I just watched until I could hear him moaning loud, and then I watched him 
pull his cock out of her pussy and jerk himself off. 

His thick loads of white come shot onto her belly and tits, and she was 
moaning loud as she saw it coming out. I could hear her saying things about 
how much hotter he even looked when he was jerking his dick off. 

And I really did think that he would drop me for her, because she kept 
telling him how she would like to stay with someone like him forever. 

I saw him looking at her, almost as if he was thinking about it. 

Now I know that I'm an attractive woman, but this young thing was at least 
ten years younger than I was. I had every reason to be jealous. 

But at one point, he just slapped her across the face hard, then started to 
leave the room, telling me to let her go. 

She was so surpised that he had hit her, and she tried to ask me what the 
fuck had gotten into him. Since I didn't know, I wasn't going to say 
anything, and anyway, I was happy that he'd rejected her. 

It was not until much later, after I showed her out, and found him sitting 
in the hot tub resting, that we had a talk. 

"Roger, I must admit that as hot as the scene was, I really thought that you 
were going to take that young girl on, and drop me." 

"But Miranda, you're my wife. You should remember that always." 

"Yes, but she seemed to really be impressed with you, and I thought that you 
were as impressed with her. That's what I got from what you did." 

"You read it all wrong, dear. I could tell that cunt was saying what she 
wanted to say, just to make me feel good. Let's be real, dear. Any woman who 
says that I'm a handsome, rugged looking man, is either blind as a bat, or 
just an ass licker. I believe that bitch was really something of a whore." 

"What makes you say that?" I asked him, sliding in beside him. 

I could feel his foot touching my pussy lips under the water. 

"Because she spoke like a whore. She was telling me everything that she 
wanted me to hear so I would like her. The way a whore says it." 

"But you want to hear things like that? Isn't that the point?" 

"I want to hear that I'm the Master, because that turns me on, my darling 
Miranda. But when the whore starts to go too far, telling me other things on 
her own, about how wonderful I am, then I know she's really nothing but a 
cheap whore." 

I leaned over and kissed him on the lips, which might have been the second 
time in many years that I had done that. 

"You don't have to worry about me ever leaving you," he said. "It's me who 
sometimes worries about you leaving me, you know." 

I didn't know, but it sure made me happy to hear it. He did tell me then 
that he had married me because I was an older, mature woman, and that was 
the kind of woman he always wanted-to have around. As far as the tricks 
went, they could be real young, but nothing that my darling husband could 
take seriously. 

We've been married now for almost twenty years, and let me tell you that 
beauty is only skin deep. I've really grown to love that man, and maybe I 
wouldn't if he wasn't abusing others, and was abusing me. 

Since he's not, I don't care. I get off on watching him 

So if some hot brown-haired woman might approach you some day, all you 
ladies out there, and she wants to make it with you, be wary. It could be 
me, getting you all set up for some abuse from the fabulous Roger. 

If you don't like big dicks, steer clear, but if you want one that's going 
to rip you apart, then look for me. I know I'll be looking for you. 

THE STORY OF ELSIE 

I don't even know how I ever got to be the way I am now, I swear to God. You 
know it's like going swimming. When you first step into the ocean, it seems 
like it's going to be much too cold and you will never be able to plunge 
yourself in entirely. 

But then your ankles get accustomed to the cold and then you move in 
farther, and your thighs-get used to it, and even start to like it, and then 
your pussy hits that cold and you think: No! This is as far as I'm going! 

But you stand there for a while and get used to that too, and then it's your 
belly and your tits and your neck, and suddenly, before you know it, you're 
in over your head and your swimming in the stuff you thought you'd only be 
able to feel with your toes. 

My story starts by the ocean. Last fall I was really depressed. God, I can 
remember. It seems so long ago. I had a crummy little job working for a 
television station, just doing secretarial work you know. And it used to 
make me so sick to see the way all these women with the really cushy jobs 
used to lord it over me. They really thought they were all better than me, 
with their big salaries and their imagine clothes and their status jobs and 
nice vacations, while I was just a secretary. 

I wasn't even seeing anyone at the time. My last boyfriend had walked out on 
me and I was back living with my aunt. I can tell you I was depressed. 

I was seeing a therapist at the time and she suggested I get away for a 
little vacation to get my spirits up. She said I needed a change and I 
needed new circumstances that would allow me to see myself in a new light, 
and like myself better. 

Well, I decided to take her advice. 

I picked France because I had majored in 

French in college but I had never been to that country. 

In a matter of weeks I had my passport and my plane ticket. I packed my bags 
with my aunt's help. She always knows what to wear where and she was very 
helpful in assisting me in buying new clothes for my trip. She wanted me to 
take a lot of sexy things because she was hoping I'd meet a man and get 
married. She wanted me to make a good catch. 

I have to smile when I think of Aunt Suzy's wishes. She was a grand old 
lady, dead now, and though very sophisticated, she was also very naive. 
Naive sexually I mean. I mean, she had been married when she was young and 
had children and all, and I don't believe that she ever had sex with any one 
but her own husband. I say any man for the idea of sex with a woman was 
entirely out of her realm of imagination. 

But it was not out of mine. I had found myself dissatisfied with the sexual 
attentions of men for a long time now, and I was determined, on my vacation 
to France, to try out the taste of a woman for a change. 

Aunt Suzy saw me off at the airport and soon I was flying high over the 
Atlantic Ocean dreaming of all the adventures I was going to have: I had a 
little list of people I could call on, friends of my aunt's, who would be 
willing to put me up and show me around. 

We landed in Paris in the early morning and I had ray bags sent to the 
address that had been given to me of a Monsieur Prevost. He was an art 
dealer friend of my aunt's and he had said I could stay with him for a while 
until I decided where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. 

Since it was so early in the morning, I didn't want to call on him yet, so I 
took a cab into mid-Paris to have a look around. The city was beautiful. The 
air was crispy cold and the trees were bare. The Seine was cold and gray and 
the streets were being swept by little men in berets. The smell of fresh 
coffee and pastry seemed to be coming out of every shop. 

I went into a big empty cafe and tried out my French. There was a really 
fantastic looking girl behind the bar, and she smiled when she heard me 
speaking. She told me I spoke very well and asked me if I were English. I 
explained that I was an American and she told me my accent was really good. 

She was a dyed blonde, about my height, and she wore heavy black eye make-up 
and she had beautiful green eyes, and such a warm friendly smile. She had 
fantastic boobs too. The costume she wore as a barmaid in the cafe 
accentuated her boobs. 

She wore a tight laced bodice that pushed her boobs together and uplifted 
them at the same time. I could see her erect nipples beneath the heavy 
fabric of her bodice, in fact I couldn't help staring at them. French cafes, 
I learned, are very drafty and poorly heated. 

"It's chilly in here," she smiled at me. She noticed of course how I was 
staring at her tits. 

Since I had never tried to make it with a woman I didn't know any of the 
techniques that lesbians use to signal each other. I didn't know how to tell 
if this beautiful French cunt wanted me. I mean, I guess you can tell from 
how I'm talking about her that she really turned me on. 

I was hungry to taste her boobs, to lick them and suck on the nipples, and 
the thought of having her naked under me was almost too much to bear. I 
couldn't bring myself to think of what her mound would be like. Would it be 
blonde too? 

Well we got into a long conversation. I told her about how I was on vacation 
and she promised to show me around one night. I gave her the address of 
where I was staying and she suggested we go out that very night. I said 
fine. 

I couldn't help but notice that when Monique, for that was my delicious 
blonde's name, went into the back of the cafe for a moment, a thin dark man 
who was the owner of the cafe made free with those very tits that I was 
aching to touch and lick. 

I saw the man, (Monique told me later his name was Pierre), fondle her tits, 
sliding his hand down under the cups of her bodice to feel the naked skin. 
Monique seemed to be resisting him with a pouting attitude, but I saw she 
felt she had to let him do what he wanted because he held her job in his 
hands, along with her tits. 

I felt the wetness between my thighs when I watched how he made free with 
her. I was squirming so much I thought I would pee in my pants. I don't 
know, Paris is really the city of love, and the very air seemed to turn me 
on, not to mention Monique. 

Well, finally I had to go call on my aunt's friend Mr. Prevost and I was all 
set to meet an old fogey. I was very surprised and delighted to meet a 
charming and and distinguished looking man with dark hair greying at the 
temples and a twinkle in his eyes. He wore the most elegant, tailored, 
expensive suits, and yet he had the most friendly manner. He put me at my 
ease right away, also complimenting me on my French. 

I was afraid he would be hurt when I told him I had already made a friend 
and we were going out tonight. But he was very ' understanding and said he 
understood. But he made me promise that I would allow him to take me out the 
following night, and I didn't mind promising. I was sure to learn a lot 
about French culture from him, I thought. 

Monique came to call on me that night at Mr. Prevost's mansion. I saw 
mansion although it was really like a city townhouse. She whistled when she 
saw the huge iron grillwork of the gate leading to the house and the parquet 
floors and chandeliers of the entrance way. Mr. Prevost even had a butler 
and Monique and I giggled about him as we walked down the front steps. 

"If there's ever a murder in that house, you'll know the butler did it," 
said Monique in her adorable English. 

"Monique," I said, feeling very bold and uninhibited in this foreign land 
where I had no history and no family, "are you the lover of the owner of the 
cafe where you work?" 

I saw her green eyes go cloudy at my question. 

"I couldn't help but notice how he touched you very freely when you went 
back behind the bar. I hope you don't mind my asking." I was holding her arm 
now as we crossed the busy street. Night was falling and it was cold. I was 
happy just to hold her arm. 

Monique was silent for a moment. "I can't tell you," she said finally. 

She took me to the Champs Elysee and the Cafe des Deux Magots. We saw all 
the glittering palaces on both sides of the Seine. But all this time she 
hardly spoke. 

I was hardly interested in the scenery because my arm kept scraping by her 
boobs and all I wanted to do was find a room with a bed somewhere and go 
down on her. 

"Where do you live?" I asked her. 

"I live with Pierre, not far from here." 

"So he is your lover," I said, naively. 

"Sort of," she said. "He asked me to invite you home with me." 

"You mean, all three of us. . . ? " I said. If this is Paris, I was 
thinking, let me do it all. 

"Oui," she nodded. 

"Okay, let's go," I said. 

We arrived at a little hotel on the left bank. We went up three flights of 
stairs and Monique opened a door at the top of the stairs. 

We went in. I found myself in a nicely furnished room, with leather arm 
chairs and a huge marble-topped coffee table. There was also a huge 
fireplace in which burned a log and candles were lit on top of the 
fireplace. But there was no one in the room. 

"Excuse me," Monique said. "I have to go and tell Pierre that we're here." 

She left me alone in the room. From another room somewhere I thought I heard 
music playing. It sounded like a symphony by Beethoven, something harsh and 
military. 

A door opened and in stepped the thin dark-haired man I had seen earlier 
that day at the cafe. 

"How do you do," he said introducing himself. He seemed much friendlier. 

"Did Monique tell you what her relationship is to me?"he asked. 

"No," I said casually, but I found my heart was pounding with excitement. "I 
mean, I assume you two are lovers," I said. 

"No," he said quietly. "She is my slave." 

"Your. . . ? " I had heard of such things but I never thought that I would 
run into this kind of thing myself. 

"Yes. She brought you here to me because I was very attracted to you. Of 
course, Monique is attracted to you too, but that is a secondary matter of 
little importance. Would you like to spend the evening with us, and see how 
we take our pleasure?" 

"Yes," I said, fascinated, if a little frightened. I couldn't believe 
anything bad could really happen because these people seemed to be so polite 
and civilized. And so that was how I had my first introduction to slavery. 

Pierre rang a little silver bell on the coffee table and Monique came back 
into the room except now she was no longer wearing the jeans and T-shirt she 
had on earlier. Now she was wearing a leather sort of body suit with 
cut-outs for her tits and at the crotch. Her tits stuck out through the 
leather and her cunt hair hung out at the crotch. I was gratified to see 
that her cunt hair too was dyed the same raunchy blonde as the hair on her 
head, and like the hair on her head, her cunt hair had black roots showing. 

Pierre, I now realized, was dressed all in leather himself. He wore tight 
leather pants of black and a black leather vest. Though he was not very 
tall, like most Frenchman, I realized with a start that he had one man-sized 
erection pushing out against his skin-tight pants. 

"I want to make love to you," he said to me. "Why don't you make yourself 
more comfortable. Monique will put on a little show for us, to relax and 
amuse us." 

I seated myself on the couch. It was warm near the fire so I took off my 
heavy turtle-neck sweater. I was wearing tight jeans and I left them on but 
I put my feet up on the couch-well he said to make himself at home, and I 
started to rub my clit which I could feel throbbing against the crotch of my 
pants. 

Pierre came over and sat down beside me. He slipped his hand between the 
wire cups of my black bra and my flesh and started kneading my tits with his 
hands. 

I liked the way he did this while Monique began to do things that really 
turned me on! 

She set up on the coffee table a contraption the-likes of which I had never 
seen before. It was sort of a seat with leather straps attached to it. Once 
she had herself in it, she tied her own legs in, and then Pierre went over 
to tie her arms down. 

All the while Monique was not looking at me. She kept looking down as if she 
were ashamed and her dirty blonde hair feel across her blackened eyes. Her 
tits hung down over the tight encompassing leather. 

There was a sort of crank on the machine she was now strapped into, and I 
realized that its purpose was to move a dildo back and forth. Monique's legs 
were strapped wide apart and from where I was sitting I could see how her 
thighs were pulled wide apart so that her cunt was forced open. Her cunt 
looked so tempting, the flesh wet and straining. That night it didn't even 
occur to me how strange it was that I was getting turned on by the sight on 
this girl in bondage. It wasn't until later that I realized I was getting 
into a weird trip. It's like getting into the cold ocean water, as I said 
earlier, remember? 

"Turn the crank, Monique," said Pierre quietly. 

Though her hands were tied, the crank was right below her hands and she 
could turn it. She was turning it so that she herself was administering the 
movement of the giant dildo into herself. 

The dildo, pointing right at her open exposed cunt, was made of leather too, 
and it was a giant prong, about eleven inches long. It looked very hard, 
much harder than a flesh and blood cock, and I didn't envy her the task of 
cranking it into herself, but I loved watching her do it. 

You could see how humiliated she was, but I loved it. I can't explain it, 
but when Pierre unzipped my pants and reached for my cunt with his fingers, 
I was sopping wet. 

I kept my eyes on Monique the whole time Pierre and I fucked. I watched the 
leather dildo get closer and closer to her pussy, and as it got closer I saw 
how her head sank lower and lower on her chest. Her tits heaved with her 
unhappy sighs and she avoided my eyes the whole time. As she cranked and the 
dildo got closer, the crank simultaneously pulled her thighs farther apart, 
and when the cock started to go in, I could see she was in great pain from 
the stretching apart of her thighs. 

But I could see the stretching apart of her thighs was necessary because it 
also pulled her pussy lips wide open and that was the best part, to see that 
huge leather cock start to penetrate into that stretched apart wet cunt. For 
she was wet. 

Pierre caught me staring at her once, as he sank his cock into me. "Don't 
worry," he said. "Can't you see how much she loves doing it to herself? Look 
how wet she is." 

And I had to agree because I could see how the leather dildo gleamed as it 
passed between her cunt lips and became covered with her cunt juice. 

Well, I got fucked by Pierre that night, but it was really Monique and the 
trip she was into that turned me on and brought me off. And though I really 
enjoyed the experience and felt my French fling was getting off to a fine 
start, I still looked forward to the first time when I would have some pussy 
to myself. 

Well, I only stayed in Paris a week. I spent a few more sessions with Pierre 
and Monique, but Pierre never let me have Monique. He was very jealous about 
his slave and he made love to me while she was forced to do things to 
herself. That seemed to turn him on, especially knowing she was attracted to 
me and dying to have me. 

I spent some enjoyable evenings with Mr. Prevost, my host too. He took me to 
all the best plays and restaurants in town and introduced me to many of his 
friends. I was starting to feel very sophisticated, and I was getting a 
whole new image of myself, just as my therapist had said I would. 

Mr. Prevost never once touched me but I could see that he thought I was a 
looker. I couldn't tell if he was gay or what,. 

When I came down with a terrible cold I became miserable again. I couldn't 
go out, I couldn't see anyone for fear of the contagion I would spread, and 
suddenly Paris just seemed like a dirty cold old prison. 

I decided I wanted to see warmer climes. Mr. Prevost suggested I go down to 
the Riviera. It was warmer and he had a charming friend he said I could stay 
with, a woman by the name of Madame Lenore Renais. I met her sister one 
night before I left for Nice, and I must say she certainly was part of the 
inducement to go on to Nice. 

Madame Lenore's sister was a beautiful woman a little older than myself. Her 
name was Fifi and she had shoulder-length dark hair. She had a widow's peak 
that for some reason I found very attractive and she had big round green 
eyes, like Monique's. 

Well, by this time, I guess I was a little less naive sexually because I 
could tell she was coming on to me. Mr. Prevost and Fifi and I went out to 
dinner together, and Fifi rubbed my thigh under the table and her finger was 
even creeping up my new red dress to my thatch! 

I was so excited I could hardly eat, and Mr. Prevost wanted to know what was 
going on. Did I feel feverish again? 

Well, to make a long story short, I didn't get a chance to make it with Fifi 
in Paris, but she promised me she was coming down to Nice herself. She said 
her older sister would be really pleased to see me. She said her older 
sister Lenore would like me as much as she, Fifi, did. 

I took a train down to Nice and arrived in the warm pleasure town feeling 
better already. My head had cleared up and I could feel my fever subsiding. 
I was met by a maid in a cab who said Madame Lenore had sent her to pick me 
up. The cabman put my valises in the trunk and we took off. I got my first 
view of the beautiful turquoise Mediterranean Sea that afternoon as our cab 
climbed the hills of Nice to Madame Lenore's villa. 

The car pulled into a driveway of a beautiful spacious spread. There were 
vast gardens around the sides of the house, and in back too, the maid told 
me. There were all these strange tropical cactus and weird tropical flowers 
and fruits and palm trees. The house was entirely surrounded by a high gray 
wall and I noticed that on top of the wall, all the way around the house, 
there were pieces of glass embedded into the cement. 

"Madame Lenore is afraid of intruders," the maid said when she caught me 
staring at the glass on top of the wall. "It is a Provencal custom too," she 
added. 

I met Madame Lenore at lunch that day. 

I must say I was disappointed. I would have said that she was Fifi's mother, 
rather than her older sister. 

Madame Lenore had a mean face that sort of resembled a prune. She reminded 
me of the wicked hags in the Walt Disney animated movies that had terrified 
me as a child. I did notice that she had a beautiful and youthful body, from 
what I could see beneath the flowing robe she wore. 

She wore her hair, which was dark like her sister's, in a severe bun on top 
of her head. 

Lunch was very formal and I was constantly afraid of picking up the wrong 
fork for the salad, or spilling my wine, and proving myself an uncivilized 
fool. 

Laura, the maid, served us, and we sat at opposite ends of a long mahogany 
table, though there were only two of there for lunch. From the dining room I 
could see the vast labyrinthine gardens out back. 

"I am pleased with you," Madame Lenore said to me in her deep, manly voice. 

"Thank you very much for your hospitality in letting me stay with you," I 
said. 

Madame Lenore said, "My little sister Fifi told me how pretty you are, and I 
must say she was not mistaken." 

I have to admit I blushed, because the thought of Fifi complimenting me made 
me get wet. And if I do say so myself, I'm not bad looking. I have 
shoulder-length brown hair that is perhaps not spectacular, but I have nice 
hefty round tits and a good figure, big hips and a big firm ass. 

"Please have some more wine," Madame Lenore insisted with a warm smile. 

"I-I don't know. I'm getting so drowsy." 

"Please, it is the custom in the south to drink wine and eat a big meal at 
mid-day. After that you take a nap. Life resumes in the evening," she said. 

Who was I to resist. I was already intoxicated by the beauty of this 
palatial house and the gardens out back and the glimpse of the exotic sea. I 
drank more and more of the warm tangy wine. 

I must have fallen asleep at the table. I was dimly aware of being carried 
to another room. Then I can recall being handled by a couple of pairs of 
hands. But that's about all I can distinctly remember. 

When I awoke I found myself in a very stark room, lying on a bare wooden 
floor, in a very uncomfortable position. In fact, I woke up in great pain. 
My arms were practically forced out of their sockets and I felt a wooden 
piece behind me that I realized my arms were locked into. It was sort of 
like the stocks you learn about when you study the Pilgrims in early 
America. Except there were chains attached to the wooden stock behind me. 

One chain held my neck close to the wood. Another was attached to a giant 
metal belt that clasped my waist so tight I could hardly breathe. 

I tried to roll over on the floor, thinking if I lay on my stomach and got 
the weight off my arms, the pain would be relieved, but then I found that my 
legs were in manacles too. At the ankles. I was totally enslaved by these 
cruel bonds. 

The room was dim and it took a long while for my eyes to adjust to the light 
after the bright sunshine of the morning. 

But as my eyes adjusted to the light I began to perceive the outline of a 
strange chair at one end of the room. It looked like sort of a modern 
throne, very stark and black and imposing-looking. 

And then I realized with a start that someone was sitting in the chair in 
the shadows. 

I saw a woman's naked body facing me, and I realized it was Madame Lenore, 
but now her purple robe was open and I was looking directly at her naked 
body. I couldn't help staring fascinated at her boobs, which were like 
lovely long melons. She had long erect nipples. Her legs were spread 
wide,apart so I could see her cunt too. I looked at the wet slit. 

I could feel her eyes upon me. She realized I was awake. 

"Elsie," she said. "Look upon me. Know that my name is Madame Lenore." 

I saw that she had adorned her neat bun with a crown of sorts or a tiara. 

She was transformed from the severe schoolmarm type of earlier into a cruel 
looking snow queen. 

"Fifi sent you to me because she saw that you had great slave potential. And 
she learned from your host in Paris, my good friend, Mr. Prevost, that you 
spent many evenings in Paris in the company of a man and his female slave. 
Fifi also told me that you wanted to eat pussy. 

Madame Lenore spread her knees open wider as if to taunt me, but the 
expression on her face remained cold. She wore little black button-up boots 
with short nylon socks. 

I started to laugh. "Hey what is this? You can't do this to me. I'm telling 
you, I'm an American citizen!" 

Madame Lenore reached for something on the seat beside her and suddenly a 
long black leather lash was flying through the air at me where I lay. I felt 
Madame Lenore's whip lash for the first time across my abdomen. I jumped 
when it landed on me and then I felt the pain of the iron belt I wore as it 
rubbed across the first wound she inflicted on me. 

"You have much to learn as a slave," she said with a wry ugly smile. 

She withdrew the whip and launched it through the air again. This time she 
sent it to me so that it wound around my neck,, and was choking me. Then 
with the lasso around my neck she pulled me up to her across the bare wooden 
floor. I scraped my knees and elbows and tits. She pulled me up to her so 
that my head was held hanging between her knees, and I was staring right 
into her cunt. Even though she had not once reached down to touch or 
stimulate herself, I could see her cunt was dripping wet. 

"As a slave, your job is very simple. You are simply to do exactly as I say. 
Do nothing else, but what I say, and you will occasionally be rewarded. 
Don't forget, Fifi is coming," she almost smiled. 

"Now take your first taste of cunt," she advised. And grabbing me by the 
hair she roughly shoved my face right smack against her cunt. I could hardly 
breathe as she shoved my face into her pussy thatch and my nose and mouth 
were both sunk in her wet cunt meat so I was really afraid I would 
suffocate. 

All I could smell was the exotic odor of pussy, which I had never really 
smelled before, except what I had smelled of my own pussy. 

She was whipping my arms as they rubbed in the wooden stock. 

"Lick me, cunt! Lick me!" she was screeching. She really sounded like a sick 
witch in a horror movie, but I had no choice. She was in control and the 
pain of my wrenched and twisted elbows, which were being inflicted with 
stripes by her whip, motivated rrie to do the best I could on her cunt. 

But strangely enough, I could feel, as my boobs scraped across her thighs, 
that my nipples were standing up straight and that my cunt was dripping too. 

I couldn't help it but the taste and smell of my first pussy was turning me 
on in spite of myself. 

I sank my tongue deep into this hag's pussy and it was delicious to taste 
her fragrant cunt. I ran my tongue over her engorged clit and felt how her 
whole body shivered at the touch of my tongue. I realized that, in a strange 
way, it was I who had power over her. 

I beat my tongue across her clit really fast, as if I were sort of whipping 
it, and then occasionally I would stop doing that to stick my tongue deep 
into her pussy cavity. 

I could tell she was enjoying it because the whip, still in her hand, had 
fallen useless to the side, and she had raised her legs and draped them over 
the arms of the chair. She still held a fistful of my hair in her hand, and 
by this way, and by the lash still wrapped tightly around my neck, she kept 
my head where she wanted it, sunk into her crotch, for what seemed like 
hours. 

I ate her out until my jaw ached. I don't know how many times I felt her 
shiver and come. She was moaning and sighing too and I thought that surely 
she would think I had been a good slave and serviced her well. 

It occurred to me that I would be able to service her even better if my 
hands were free to play with her cunt and boobs, and I thought I would 
mention this to her later when she complimented me on my first performance. 

My mouth was dripping with her pussy juice when she finally pushed my head 
away. She lazily lifted one leg and gave me a kick with her high-heeled boot 
that sent me sprawling over-backwards, causing a terrible shooting pain to 
run through my entire body. The wooden stock was really wrenching me as I 
feel and the chains, grinding over the whip wounds, caused me to scream out 
in pain. 

"Slave of my cunt," she said in her queenly voice, "you have now spent your 
first session learning the duty you are to perform for the rest of your 
life. You will spend the rest of your life perfecting yourself as a being 
devoted entirely to one task: pleasuring my cunt. Now lie here and reflect 
on your performance, and think how you can improve it. I want to be 
pleasured in a new and different way every time. If you fail to interest me, 
if you begin to bore, beware the consequences." 

And Madame Lenore rose and left. 

I couldn't believe this was really happening to me. She had to be joking 
about the part about remaining here for the rest of my life, I thought. I 
mean, nobody could do that to another human being. You couldn't take a 
slave, not today, in 1979, could you? 

My shoulders felt as if they had been wrenched out of their sockets and I 
realized she had made no mention of releasing me. How long was she going to 
leave me in this state, without medical care. I had bleeding wounds that 
needed attention, and the iron rubbing on top of them was not helping. The 
least of my problems was the fact that my jaw and tongue were so sore and 
swollen from what must have been at least two hours of eating out her pussy. 
Quite a long stint for the first time. 

But most unnerving of all was the fact that my own cunt was absolutely on 
fire. I had endured all this pain and humiliation, and performed an 
incredible sexual feat for someone else, without having received one ounce 
of sexual pleasure myself. My pussy burned to have someone do to me what I 
had just done to Madame Lenore. 

I believe I passed out again from the anguish of my torn limbs, because I 
don't remember a single thing until I woke up in a different room. 

There was a big hot Jacusi pool in the middle of this steamy tiled room, and 
one whole wall was made of windows, looking out on the exotic plants of 
Madame Lenore's extensive gardens. 

The whole room was slippery with steamy heat. 

I myself was standing when I awoke. I knew that I had been lying down 
previously, and I think I must have slept for a while in a bed, and my cuts 
had been tended to because they ached with the pain of some kind of healing 
ointment. 

But now I was chained to a wall, my arms and legs spread wide apart, as if I 
were to be crucified. I was totally naked. 

I saw Madame Lenore walking past the windows outside. She was in a robe of a 
different color now, a bright red velvet one, but as before I could see she 
was naked underneath. She wore the tiara as before too, but this time she 
had on tall black leather boots that came to her mid-thigh. 

I was able to look at her more reflectively this time. I noticed how her 
body was like that of a beautiful mature woman. Her boobs were firm and the 
flesh was soft and warm, I recalled. I watched her bending over to smell the 
fragrance of one of her exotic flowers, and saw that she was being followed 
by two cats, huge tiger-striped pussies, both male, I noticed. 

At that moment, Madame Lenore turned and looked at me. Noticing I was awake, 
she turned away and I saw her bend and pick the leaves of a plant. I saw her 
crushing these leaves in her hand. 

I noticed that the cats seemed to be going crazy. They were rubbing up 
against the plant and rubbing up against Madame Lenore's legs, and mewling 
like toms in heat. 

She drew back the huge sliding glass door and stepped into the pool. Slowly 
she walked over to where I was chained. 

"So, my little slave is ready for her second session," she said humorlessly. 

"Madame Lenore, please, . . , " I began. 

"Shut up," she said. "Did I give you permission to talk?" 

In a moment she had my mouth stuffed with an apple from her garden. She tied 
a leather strap around the apple in my mouth so my mouth was forced wide 
open. 

Then she pulled out of her pocket a leather belt which she ran around my 
waist. There were straps that hung down from the waist which she tied around 
my thighs. The straps around my thighs pulled my cunt open. I remembered the 
contraption that I had seen Monique voluntarily climb into at Pierre's 
command in Paris. 

Madame Lenore stood back to look at me, but evidently she was not satisfied. 

She pulled the leather straps at my thighs tighter, and then from the 
voluminous pockets of her hateful robe she pulled out a sort of clamp. 

My eyes widened with fear when I saw that frightening-looking piece of 
steel. It had been polished so that it was shiny bright. 

"You have very beautiful eyes, my dear, so green and bright," she said 
leaning over to whisper in my ear. I felt her tongue slip into my ear and 
she was plunging her active tongue into my ear-hole as if it were my cunt. I 
don't know why, but the action of her tongue actually made me get wet in my 
cunt. The tickling in my ear was triggering a wetness in my pussy. 

But suddenly it seemed she had had enough of that for she backed off and 
bent down. Now she was attaching the clamp to my pussy. One clip went on one 
side of my pussy lips and the other clip went on the other side of my pussy 
lips and a spring in the middle pushed my pussy lips wide apart. 

I screamed in pain but my screams were all muffled by the apple in my mouth. 

She put her hand to my pussy and I thought she was starting to wiggle my 
clit, which, all the torture aside, was dying to be plucked and touched. But 
if she wiggled her finger on my clit, it was only be accident, or to tease, 
because I realized what she was really, doing was rubbing the sap of the 
leaves she had picked in the garden into my cunt. 

There I was chained to the wall, my pussy clamped open, and the cats began 
to smell the odor of what must have been catnip stuck up my cunt. 

Madame Lenore stepped back to survey her work, and for the first time I saw 
her smile with satisfaction. 

I could hardly believe all the sensations I was experiencing. My body was 
drenched with sweat. It rolled up the top slopes of my tits, and then peaked 
in drops over my erect nipples, and then the sweat ran down the undersides 
of my big mounds, down my belly. I could even feel the sweat running in 
rivulets through my pussy thatch. 

The two male cats were sniffing at my toes. 

I wriggled and tried to wrench myself off the wall, but to no avail. My 
manacles held me tight and my efforts only reopened the sores I had gotten 
earlier on my wrists and ankles. 

The cats were starting to go wild. They had to jump up to get to the source 
of the smell they loved to smell, and they were using my legs and thighs 
like scratching posts as they clawed their way to my pussy. 

I screamed with terror as these two male animals jumped to put their heads 
into my cunt. Often they hit their heads against the pussy clamp which 
caused me unbearable pain. They were trying to stick their tongues into my 
catnip pussy, I think, but often as not it was their teeth and claws that 
found my soft sore exposed vulnerable sex. My vulva was on fire, with the 
stimulation it was finally getting which was, unfortunately, not exactly 
what it had had in mind. 

And yet, through the pain, I could feel the wetness pouring out of my cunt. 
The human bodyand its organs are curious. We are capable of experiencing 
many sensations at once, over which we actually have very little control. 
And so, though on the surface, my entire body was in agony and my tits and 
nipples and clit were distended in fear as much as in pain, I also was aware 
that my pussy and clit were being sexually stimulated and that indeed I was 
approaching climax. 

My eyes had been glued all this time to the tawny bodies of the green-eyed 
cats as they propelled their lithe forms up my thighs to my cunt. But 
suddenly it occurred to me that I should be aware of where Madame Lenore was 
and what she was doing. I recalled her words about how I should be devoted 
to her pleasure, and whether the treatment I was now getting was reward or 
punishment, I wanted to be sure she "knew I had not forgotten her. 

I saw her robe lying by the side of the Jacuzi pool. Then I saw her. She was 
naked, her boots too had come off, but she seemed to be suspended above the 
swirling water of the pool. I realized that there was some sort of phallic 
pole in the middle of the pool, and she was pleasuring herself on it, riding 
the pole up and down into her cunt as she watched my terror and sexual pain. 
The steamy waters of the pool soothed her own thighs while she slid on the 
pool. 

I saw too, that, though she was watching me intently, her lids were narrowly 
closed on her eyes and she was smiling the smile of ecstatic sexual 
pleasure. Her labia glistened and gleamed red around the circumference of 
the gleaming phallus. 

The cats had licked out all the catnip and so they lost interest in me. It 
was nothing personal. 

They slunk off into the garden again and Madame Lenore was no longer on her 
pole, I saw, the next time I opened my eyes. I had drifted off into the 
unconscious sleep that is God's gift to those in pain. 

But when I opened my eyes again, I found a woman, nude, kneeling between my 
thighs. It took a moment before I recognized the maid who had picked me up 
at the station. She was pushing the clips that held my pussy lips wide apart 
so that she could get to my clit with her tongue. 

One of her hands worked her own clit between her open thighs as she did a 
tap dance on my poor distended clit with her lovely pointed tongue. 

This was my first time of being eaten by a woman, and I must say she brought 
me to impossible heights of pleasure. Though the pussylip clamps were 
causing me incredible pain, the beating of her tongue against my clit 
caused" equal, if not greater pleasure, and behind the apple forced in my 
mouth, I groaned out my first love moans of lesbian love. 

I lost all track of time. I had no idea how long it had been since I had 
arrived at Madame Lenore's from Paris. Was it days? Weeks? Months? 

I became totally enslaved to Madame Lenore. Each time I woke from one of the 
strange drugged sleeps she allowed me, I never knew where I would find 
myself. There were so many rooms in her house, and so many strange tortures, 
such as I had never been able to conceive of myself. 

One day (I saw sun streaming in through a crack in the black curtains of 
what had become "my room") I awoke tied to my bed as usual. It seemed to me 
I sensed a kind of frenzy and scurrying throughout the house. I wondered 
what was up. 

I soon found out, from the whispered words of servants I heard scurrying 
past my door. "Fifi. . . , " they were saying. Fifi had come! 

I don't know why my heart took a leap of hope. I guess I was expecting that 
in Fifi I would find a friend and ally, someone who would help me. escape. 

The maid came in and washed me very carefully all over. She poured exotic 
fragrant oils on me and washed and combed my hair so that it was shiny 
clean. I felt as if I were being prepared for some kind of sacrifice. I was 
to be the sacrificial lamb! 

I was firmly tied and bound in a sitting position by two maid servants, and 
then I was placed on a cot and carried through the halls of the house on the 
shoulders of the two naked maids. 

I was brought into a room I had never been in before. A rounded archway 
opened into a vast hall. It almost looked like a room in a museum where 
strange sculptures of metal and nuts and bolts and screws were being 
displayed. Ranged all around the room where curious contraptions mounted on 
black boxes. 

I saw that there was also a huge sunken bed. It was round and covered with 
red velvet and I saw that two women were making love, or rather one young 
beauty whose buttocks I saw moving up and down in the air, was eating out 
the pussy of Madame Lenore who lay stretched back in ecstasy. 

The women seemed not to notice that the maid servants had brought me in. 
They untied me now but only in preparation for the device which they 
preceded to install me on top of. 

I can hardly describe even now, without feeling the tentacles of fear 
tighten all over my body. 

My. ankles were manacled into the sides of the box, and my arms were bound 
back on themselves. My fists were enclosed in fingerless leather mittens so 
that I felt like an amputee, without hands. But that was just the beginning. 

I noticed that the two women were watching now, as Fifi, for that was who it 
was of course, continued to stick her fingers languidly up Lenore's cunt. 
They watched the maid servants stretch my nipples until they were taut and 
erect, and then they squeezed little iron rings that contracted around my 
nipples. These were tied to a bar, and my breasts were strained and 
stretched. Meanwhile a large dildo was forced into my mouth. 

And at my pussy, exposed as my legs were manacled wide apart, a belt was 
strapped through my thighs. The belt had a sort of bear trap, like jaws in 
it which held the pussy open, and a funnel covered these cruel jaws. Then a 
painfully large dildo head was attached to the top of an iron pole. 

I saw the maids testing out the various parts of this cruel machine. I saw 
how the iron pole aimed at my held-apart pussy, went up and down, and how 
the huge dildo in my mouth went in and out, all at the control of various 
cranks on the machine. 

When the maids were satisfied that everything was in working order, they 
turned and bowed toward the queen on the bed. Madame Lenore waved them away 
with one motion of her hand, and they left the three of us alone in there. 

"Fifi, my darling sister, I cannot tell you how pleased I am with the new 
slave you picked out for me. Darling, your taste is as good as ever. I don't 
know how you do it, but you always find a type who will please me." 

"Has she been a good slave, Lennie?" I saw my beloved Fifi ask. I looked at 
Fifi's bulging tits. I began to cry, not only because of the pain of the 
iron rings pulling my breasts down, but because I knew that the hard swollen 
nipples on the ends of Fifi's breasts were caused by the excitement she had 
felt in eating ouout her sister. 

Fifi had never wanted me as a lover for herself at all! I realized. Tears of 
humiliation were mixed with tears of pain. 

"But look, she is crying," said Fifi coming over closer to examine me. I 
could smell her sex as she walked around me and surveyed my enslaved body. 
Her body moved with a litheness and a sexual ease that was so beautiful and 
exciting. 

I felt my cunt grow wet just from watching the flesh of this voluptuous 
woman I could not have. 

"Yes, sometimes she cries. And sometimes she is disobedient and I have to 
discipline her. And I still have not been able to bring her to admit that 
she loves being my slave and that she has never been so sexually turned on 
in her life. I was hoping that you could help me in that area, Fifi. You're 
so much more convincing than I am sometimes." 

Madame Lenore stretched and writhed in her nudity on her velvet bed. Her 
green eyes had little points in them as she watched her younger sister 
circle me. I coulnd't stop the flow of tears from my eyes. 

"Well, I'll see what I can do," said my Fifi. 

"Do you like what we do to you?" Fifi asked me. Her voice was as light and 
innocent as a child's. 

Even if I had wanted to answer, it was impossible for my head was held still 
in an iron clamp and my mouth was full of the large dildo, so that no sound 
could escape. 

I couldn't even gesture with my bound hands. 

"I'll tell you what," Fifi said in a friendly way. She even patted me on the 
shoulder, "I'll let you have as much of the dildo as you want. If you like 
it and if you like how it feels, you just let your pussy juice run down all 
over the dildo and we'll consider the question answered. Okay?" 

Fifi turned her head to her sister. "Do you think .that's being too easy on 
her?" she asked. I could see how Fifi needed her sister's approval to 
bolster her confidence in herself and her own ideas. 

"I think that sounds fair to me," Madame Lenore said. "She comes like a cunt 
every time," Madame Lenore confided. 

Fifi kneeled to one side of me and she placed her hand on my buttock. She 
pinched me once and smiled and laughed to see me wince. "Oh come on, now," 
she said, "surely that doesn't hurt?" 

First she wound the dildo at my mouth in farther, so that I had to 
concentrate on keeping my throat muscles loose and my throat passage wide 
open. She really cranked it deep into me, the cunt! She watched me carefully 
as she screwed the cock into my mouth, with her lips slightly parted, 
screwing it in until I gagged, at which point she stopped and waited until I 
adjust my throat to the indignity, whereupon she screwed it in even farther, 
stopping again when I gagged, and so on. 

When I had all but one last inch of the dildo down my throat, she seemed 
satisfied and left off the dildo at my mouth to turn her attention to the 
one at my cunt. 

I noticed that Madame Lenore had her fingers up her own cunt and was 
masturbating furiously on the round bed. 

My nipples were on fire from the striking pain of the ropes that pulled on 
the rings. 

But I hadn't even begun to suffer the final indignity of the cunt dildo. 

Fifi licked her lips as she began to turn the crank that pushed the cock 
head up toward the tunnel that held my pussy wide open. My pussy lips were 
stretched to their utmost and I prepared myself for pain greater than any I 
had experienced so far. 

I could see that Fifi's thighs had become shining wet with her inner 
moistness which was seeping out as she cranked the cock up to my cock-hole. 

The bulbous head of the cock disappeared into the tunnel and then I felt the 
dildo splitting apart my cunt. 

And then I began to come, over and over again, as they laughed, and I knew 
that now I really was their slave. 

THE STORY OF ANGELA 

You have to do sordid things when you are a beginning actress. I mean, even 
Marilyn, and Suzanne have porno roles behind them. Mine was just a little 
more heavy. 

I always wanted to be an actress. When I was a little girl, I used to go 
into my mother's room, and try on her evening dresses, and her make up. She 
got really mad at me when I would make a mess of her lipstick. But, she 
couldn't stop me from doing it. It was like an obsession for me. Finally, 
she went and got me my own make up. I was only six years old, but I already 
had a box filled with lipstick and eye shadow. 

The condition was that I was not allowed to wear it outside of the house. 
And, of course, my mother only got me hypoallergenic stuff, that wouldn't 
harm me, even if I swallowed it. She wouldn't give me mascara, either, as 
she was afraid I would poke my eye out with the brush. 

She had to pay a lot for the special make up, but I didn't ask for a lot of 
other toys, and it would be my Christmas presents. So, I learned the joys of 
cosmetics quite young. 

My mother was a good-looking woman, and she and my father led a pretty 
active social life. She had quite a number of imagine dresses, and as soon 
as she had worn them too much, she would give them to me. Since I was a 
girl, she didn't get too upset at my fascination with drag. 

I got to be quite proficient in getting myself to look glamorous. My mother 
still thought there was something a little odd about it, so she didn't 
encourage me, but once and a while, at a party that they were giving, she 
would let me come downstairs, and pretend I was one of the beautiful ladies 
there. 

My father got a big kick out of it. He thought I looked very pretty. And, I 
always was a beauty, if I may say so myself. If you've got it, flaunt it. 

If we had lived near a media center, and if my mother was the type to 
exploit her children, maybe I could have been a child star. Everybody said I 
was a great little actress, and so pretty. 

I was very photogenic, too. I like to look at the pictures that my uncle 
took of me when I was seven. For once, my mother let me get photographed in 
make up. I look so sweet. It's strangely decadent, such innocence, and such 
glamour. 

But, my mother was very firm about making me into a normal, Midwestern girl. 
I was to go outside and be a tomboy. She would not stand for a lot of 
nonsense about ladies, and glamour. But, she really couldn't control me. 
Everyone tells me that I was irresistible, so even my strict mother had to 
give in to my whims. 

I had two younger brothers. I would make them join me in my theatrical 
productions, but they were usually much more interested in going out 
fishing. We lived near the Missouri, and they were regular Huck Finns. What 
I was, nobody knew. 

All I had was beauty and acting talent. I had absolutely no talent in 
singing or dancing. So, I wasn't Shirley Temple. Indeed, I saw her movies on 
television, and I thought she was much too babyish. Perhaps it's just as 
well that my mother wasn't a stage mother, for if she had pushed me into 
singing and dancing lessons, and auditions, I would have really suffered a 
loss of confidence. 

But, she just let me develop on my own. I got no more practice at acting 
than what I could work up for myself. As I got older, I got myself into all 
the local amateur productions. I also did everything I could in the school 
plays. Pretty soon, people were calling me an actress. 

So, I was recognized in my small town. I was also known as one of the town 
beauties. I had boys flocking to my front porch since I was thirteen. But, 
again, my mother's strictness intervened, and I wasn't allowed to go on 
dates until I was fifteen, and no night time dates until I was seventeen. 

I had some steady beaux by then, but I hadn't really been in love. That is, 
not in love with a local boy. My heart throb was Lawrence Olivier. I saw 
"Wuthering Heights", and that was that. It didn't even matter to me when I 
found out he was already past sixty. I had my celluloid dreams. 

There were other actors that I wouldn't have minded. I liked Olivier best, 
but other than that I tended to like the young, American types like early 
Brando, and James Dean. I liked De Niro, too, as soon as I saw "Mean 
Streets". 

Well, I went through high school, playing lead in the usual productions of 
"Arsenic and Old Lace", "The Importance of Being Ernest", and "Our Town". 

After I graduated, I spent a year in the nearest summer stock. That was my 
first taste of professional theater. I was taken on as the young girl. I got 
all the stupid, pretty parts. 

I didn't mind. I intended to make it on my beauty, then stun everybody with 
my talent. After that summer, I was no longer a virgin. 

It was the typical, "Marjorie Morningstar" story. I fell for the seemingly 
sophisticated assistant director. He's quite willing to fuck the young 
beauty, and get his ego fed in the process. Then, at the end of the summer, 
it's heartbreak. 

After that summer, I decided that time had come to try for that big golden 
ring. I was going to go to Hollywood. My mother was against it, but my 
father was encouraging. He added an equivalent amount to my savings, and I 
had enough to live for a few months in a cheap furnished room. 

My mother finally agreed to give me her blessings, but only on the condition 
that I searched for a regular job as soon as I got there. She didn't want me 
starving to death because I couldn't get a regular acting job. I said yes to 
her, but I was so naive, that I thought my beauty would bowl them all over, 
and I'd have a starring role right away. 

I had gotten good reviews from my summer theater-in-the-round work. They had 
said that I was not only a beauty, but a talent. I cut out all of my 
reviews, and kept them in my scrap book. I had no doubt that I would soon 
have the pages overflowing with good reviews. 

I took the bus out to Los Angeles in order to save money. It took three 
days. I didn't mind the travel so much, though. I had never been more than 
fifty miles from the town where I was born. I was really interested in 
seeing the rest of the country. So, I spent most of the trip looking out the 
window. 

The first day was really boring. It was all flat farmlands. The people on 
the bus were all just like the people back home, too. 

The secondday, it got interesting. We started to see some mountains. They 
were really beautiful. They looked just like in the Western movies. 

Finally, we got to California. I felt just like singing, if I didn't have a 
terrible voice. Then, we were there. Los Angeles. L. A. It was the place of 
my dreams. 

I was a little disappointed to find the skies to be really gray and dull. 
There was also no life in the streets. I just went to the little room that 
my mother alid had her friend find for me. I found I was really tired, so I 
had to just shower, and sleep. 

I didn't wake up until the next morning. The woman who I was boarding with 
was rather old, and very stuffy. She liked that fact that I was from the 
Midwest, but she didn't like the fact that I was an actress. However, my 
mother's friend had given her a lot of assurances, so she felt good enough 
about me. 

The first thing I did that day was go out to Hollywood and Vine. I waited 
and waited for a bus, but none came. Finally, I just splurged on a cab. I 
asked the cab driver why the bus hadn't come, and he laughed at me. He said, 
"Sister, everybody drives around here, where are you from?" . 

I told him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He said, "I suppose you come, out 
here to be a movie star?" 

I said, "I want to be an actress." 

He laughed. He said, "You're real pretty, but that won't get you farther 
than the casting couch." 

I didn't understand what he meant. Then, he said, "say, I could arrange a 
job for you, if you like. It's only with the highest class clients. You'll 
be doing it anyway, so you might as well get some money out of it. You'll 
need money if you want to buy a car." 

I said, "What kind of jobs?" 

He said, "You know, turning tricks. A little work on your back." 

I was beginning to see what he meant. I wasn't all that naive. I said, "You 
can let me out of the car right now!" 

He said, "Relax, relax, sister. Nobody's gonna make you do anything you 
don't wanna. But, just remember, you'll come down to it sooner or later." 

I said nothing. I wanted to say nothing to such a dirty man. We were soon at 
Hollywood and Vine. As I got out, the cab driver said, "Take a good look 
around, sister. Then, think about what I said." 

He drove off. He was laughing. I walked down the street. I looked around. At 
first I was dazzled at how good looking everybody was. There really are a 
lot of blondes, and good tans, and good bodies in Southern California. 

I began to doubt my own beauty. I couldn't really say that I was any better 
looking than all the girls I saw around me. So, I was blonde, and I had a 
nice figure, and pretty features. 

Lots of girls as good looking as me were walking all around. And, they 
seemed to know how to make up and dress better than me, too. 

In fact, I was a little shocked at how skimpily some of the girls dressed. 
And, they all wore really high heels. 

Then, I began to notice what was going on in the street. A lot of cars would 
stop, really nice, big cars, and the girls would crowd around it. Then, one 
or two of them would step into the car. 

Finally, I began to realize what was happening. All of these girls were 
hookers. I was really shocked. They looked so fresh and outdoorsy, too. I 
hurried up the street until I got to the. less populated area. 

I decided to check out the movie back lots. I asked a few normal looking 
older people, and finally, I found out where to get a tour to them. 

It cost me quite a bit of money, but I figured it was worth it. I ought to 
see the place where I would be working. 

I really enjoyed the tour. We got to see 'a few television shows being 
filmed, and we even got to meet some actors. One I recognized from a 
television show, but I hadn't known his name. 

When the tour was over, I took a cab back to my place. I was late for 
dinner, and the old woman was mad. She said, that I should make my own 
meals, and she would take fifty dollars off of my rent. But, I wouldn't have 
a kitchen, so I would have to be eating out. So, I figured I'd eat at the 
Hollywood drugstores. Maybe I would be discovered like Lana Turner. 

The next day I set about to find a job. But, it was really difficult. There 
were so many young people all over the place looking for jobs. So many were 
in the exact same position as me. 

So, I began to really feel low. I began to remember all the discouraging 
things that my mother and other cynics had said about my fanciful plans. I 
went into a drugstore to have dinner. 

There were no seats at the counter, and all the booths were filled. I was 
really tired from walking around, and having my spirits depressed. I didn't 
want to go search for another place. 

I saw that in one booth a woman was there by herself. I said to her, "Would 
you mind if I sat down here, too? I'm awfully tired." 

She said, "Sure, honey. I could use the company." 

So, I sat down with her. She handed me her menu. She hadn't ordered yet. She 
said, "Their steak sandwich is about the safest thing." 

"Oh, it looks a little steep for me. I better just get a tuna fish 
sandwich." I said. 

"Gan't you make that at home, honey?" she said. 

"I don't have a kitchen in my room." I said to her. 

"Oh, that's a shame. Are you boarding in some old lady's house or 
something?" she asked 

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I asked. "You've got the look. It's pretty common." 
she said. 

"Yeah, I'm really finding out how common I am. I used to think I was pretty, 
but everyone's as pretty as me, here." I said, sighing. 

"Oh, don't let it get you down. You gotta look close. Not all of them are so 
pretty. In fact, I think you've really got something special." she said, 
kindly. 

"Oh, I don't know. I don't know how to get into acting. I don't know 
anything." I said. 

"So, you're new to town?" she asked. 

"Yes, I just got in this week, and already I'm depressed at my chances of 
success." I said. 

Just then, the waiter came. He took our orders. She said, "Let me buy you a 
steak sandwich, honey." 

I said, "Oh, I couldn't let you do that." 

She said, "Sure you can. You should take whatever you can get. Besides, 
you'll be paying me back, if you listen to my deal." 

I liked her look, so I said, "Well, alright. 

But, you must let me return the favor someday." 

She said, "Of course you will." 

So, the waiter went to get us two steak sandwiches. I drank my ice water, 
and looked at the woman. She was older than me. She looked to be about 
thirty. She had black hair. It went to her shoulders, just above them. And, 
she had bangs. She had a pretty face, but it seemed worn out. She had thick 
lips and a flat nose. She had nice big eyes, but she was beginning to get 
wrinkles around them. 

She must have once had a great figure, but now it was getting a little 
dumpy. Her whole manner, though, was sort of used up and earthy. 

I asked her, "What's your name?" 

She said, "My name's Becky. What's yours?" 

I said, "I'm Angela. Are you an actress?" 

She said, "Yea, in a way. I'm getting more into talent scouting, now. That's 
why you interest me." 

I said, "Oh, really! So, you find actors for parts?" 

"Yes. In fact, I have a little thing in the boards right now." she said. 

The waiter came just then with our salads. Becky had ordered full dinners. 
After he left, and we had put our dressings on, I said, "Please tell me if 
I'm being pushy, but, do you need any actresses right now?" 

Becky said, "Well, as a matter-of-fact we do. You'd be perfect for one of 
our parts. But, I'm not sure if you'd be interested in it. It's a very 
difficult part." 

I said, "Oh, please, try me! I'm really a very good actress, too." 

"Oh, I don't think you would really be able to do it." Becky said. 

"I'm positive that I could. Please let me have the part!" I begged her. 

She said, "Well, you see, I don't know if you'd be mature enough to handle 
the part. It involves some nudity, and other types of acting." 

"I'd do that, if it was a good part. I realize that an actress has to do 
certain things nowadays." I said. 

"That's a mature attitude. And, surprisingly, ours is one of the few 
productions were there isn't the casting couch business involved. It's all 
simulated in our productions, instead of really going on back stage." she 
said. 

"So, is this a movie, or what?" I asked excitedly. 

"Oh, it's a movie. It won't be shown around, so you don't even have to worry 
about your friends or relatives seeing it. A producer who-likes this sort of 
thing has them especially made for him. So, actually, you may be seen by 
some very important people in Hollywood," Becky said. 

"Oh, really. Have any of your actresses gotten a break from doing these 
films?" I asked 

"Yes, one of our girls is now the special protegee of Fred Goldman. She's 
already had one cinematic vehicle for herself, and there's a television show 
in the works." Becky said. 

"Wow! That's great. I really want to do this, can you give me an audition?" 
I asked. 

"Oh, you won't need that. I'm sure you'll be fine, as long as you are 
cooperative." Becky said. 

I was so happy. I had landed an important film part on my first day out job 
hunting. I asked Becky, "Well, that's fabulous! Where and when should I come 
to work?" 

She said, "Give me your phone number, and I'll call you with all the 
details." 

So, I gave her my number. We finished our dinner, discussing our pasts. I 
didn't have much to tell. But, Becky did. 

She told me how she had rich parents and went to a prep school and 
everything in the Northeast. Then, she worked as a performance artist in New 
York City. The big producer saw her work, and asked her to come out to L. A. 
to make movies for him. Becky said, "It gets really tiresome now, but I get 
a really good salary, and I am learning how to make movies." 

"Oh, you want to be a movie director?" I asked. 

"Yes. But, it's so hard for a woman to break into it. But, the producer, who 
shall remain unnamed, promises that he will let me make a legitimate film in 
a few years." Becky said. 

"Is he a nice man?" I asked. 

"Well, I must say, he's very good to work with. He's very good about money. 
But, I just can't respect anybody who gets off on stuff like the films I 
have to make. I think the people who like such stuff are scumbags. I wanted 
to call my production company Scumbags, Incorporated, but the producer 
objected. You won't have to see him, though, and I hardly have to see him, 
either." she said. 

"Well, I'm just grateful to him, and to you, for this break." I said. 

"Well, maybe you won't thank me so much once you see what the part actually 
involves." she said. 

"Oh, I'm a professional. I will do whatever my character would do." I said. 

"Well, she'll be a very submissive character." Becky said, smirking dryly. 

"That's alright. I played Mary Queen of Scots in prison, once." I said. 

"Well, this will be a bit different. You will be paid well, and that's the 
most important thing, in my opinion. You'll get five thousand dollars for 
the whole shot, and it will only take two weeks." she said. 

My mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe it. I never dreamed of making so 
much money in such a short amount of time. 

Three days later Becky called me. She asked for my address. She said that a 
check with three hundred dollars in advance would be coming to me. She said 
I would get the rest after I finished production. Production was to start in 
a week. 

I got the check, and opened up a savings and checking account. It was my 
first. I was so happy. I love having money that I've earned myself. 

Finally, it came time to go make the film. I was picked up in a limousine by 
Becky. I was to live on the set of the film for the two weeks. I would get 
all my meals and stuff there. I would get a nice room with a television and 
radio, and there would be daily film showings of Hollywood's finest. Becky 
told me it would be like being at a resort in my free time. But, she warned 
me that when it was time for me to act, I had to do whatever she said. 

I was happy enough to agree to her conditions. I said goodbye to my 
landlady, and went out to the limousine. I had told my parents that I would 
be on location for the two weeks. 

Becky and I rode in the chauffeur driven limousine to the studio. It was out 
in the dry towns beyond Los Angeles. It was a long trip. Finally, it was 
over. 

Becky and I got out of the car. We were in a beautiful compound. Becky said 
it belonged to the producer. She showed me to my room. It was very 
nice,-like at an expensive, modern hotel. 

Becky said that I would have to work at midnight, but I could relax until 
then. She told me which room to go to. 

I lay down on the nice big bed, and turned on the radio. The Eagles were on. 
I fell asleep. Long rides sometimes tire me out. 

At eleven o'clock, my telephone rang. I picked it up. A woman's tinny voice 
said, "Becky wants you to be reminded to go to room eleven in an hour. She 
requests that you shower and relieve yourself before then." 

I said, "Oh, thank you." 

I did as Becky requested. I got myself very clean, then I put on perfume. I 
shaved my legs and armpits. I figured if I was to be nude, I better be 
looking my best. I didn't put on perfume, as I figured I'd be done up by a 
make up man. 

Finally, I was ready, and it was time. I went to the room. Becky greeted me 
at the door. It was a big room. There were cameras set up in one corner, and 
from the middle of the ceiling, a pulley was suspended. 

Becky said, "You'll have to take off your clothes. Bert will make you up." 

I was a little embarrassed to be naked in front of the five or so camera and 
lighting men, but I kept thinking to myself that I was a professional. I 
took off my clothes, and let Bert make me up. 

He put make up all over my body. I was very hot with it under the lights. 
But, it made my very good skin even more flawless looking. Then, Becky came 
over. She said, "Well, lets have a look. Not bad. But, that pube hair will 
have to come off. I'm sorry, Angela, but that's what the part requires." 

I gulped and said, "Well, if it's really necessary." 

She said, "Yes, it really is." 

So, I had to spread my legs, and Bert shaved my cunt. I was really 
embarrassed. But, he was very gentle, and he didn't make any rude comments. 
My body looked really smooth than. I don't have a lot of body hair, even 
though I'm a blonde, and then I was like marble. 

Then, Becky said, "Well, you'll have to be bound now. It may be 
uncomfortable. Your part requires you to writhe in agony, so let yourself. I 
promise you that you won't be hurt." 

I said, "Alright." 

I was really .puzzled by all that was going on, but I figured that Becky 
knew what was going on. Three men started to put me in all sorts of strange 
positions. While this was going on, Bert was making up Becky. 

Becky put on this tight leather bra. But, it was a bra without cups. Her 
tits were made to stick out real round form it. Then, she had studded 
leather bands around her upper arms. They made her look tough. Around her 
waist was another band of leather. 

Her crotch was bare, and she had her pubic hair. She put long, thigh high 
leather boots on her legs. They had really high heels, and made her legs 
look really long. 

Meanwhile, the men were fitting me into the pulley. The cameras were turned 
to this, and I was instructed by the assistant director to make moaning 
sounds, and pretend to struggle. I found it difficult to have a part and get 
no practice, and no discussion about my character, but I knew that filming 
was different than theatre. 

The men wore black hoods, and looked spooky. They put rubber bands around my 
arms. They made my hands fold up to my shoulders. It was pretty 
uncomfortable. 

Next, they put metal rings around one knee, and one ankle. Then, they 
attached a metal stick thing between the two rings. From the metal stick 
thing extended a stick to my cunt. It had a soft rubber thing that pressed 
against my cunt. I had to pretend that it was digging into me, but actually, 
it was just like nothing. I was just a little embarrassed to have the men 
touch my bare, bald pussy. 

The last thing they did was attach a rope with a ring to my right elbow, and 
suspend me from the ceiling. My foot was still on the ground, though, so it 
didn't really hurt, it was just like a long stretch. 

Then, a rope was tied around my right ankle. The other end was nailed to the 
floor. The last piece of rope was tied between my left knee and elbow, and 
to the pulley. 

Then, Becky came over. She held onto the pulley, and pulled at it, while 
mouthing things to the camera. She told me, "We'll fill in the sound later, 
so we just have to make the right expressions on our faces." 

The men kept making the funniest jokes, and I had to laugh, while making my 
face look more like I was in pain, than in hilarity. 

Becky pulled on the rope, and I went up in the air. Now, that hurt a bit. My 
body was pulled to the ground by gravity, but suspended from the rope. It 
only lasted a couple of minutes, though, until the camera could get some 
good shots. They would speed it up later. 

Becky said to me, "The producer, scumbag that he is,-likes to think that all 
the things we film are real, but I wouldn't put my girls through that. We 
always speed the film up, and do as much trick stuff as we can." 

I said, "So he's being tricked?" 

She said, "Yeah, but he deserves it. What sort of an ass-hole wants to see 
people suffer? I hope you feel alright. We didn't hurt you, did we?" 

I said, "No, it hurt for a minute, but I'm okay now." 

She said, "Good." 

The men helped me get all of the stuff off of me. I was unscathed except my 
pussy hair was gone. But, that wasn't so bad for all the money I was 
getting. 

Becky said I would be filming about every other day, and the rest of the 
time I was just to have fun, at the producer's expense. 

I learned that Becky convinced the producer that she needed all the money, 
and two weeks to get the girls really submissive. He thought we were being 
tortured for the whole two weeks, but actually, we were having the time of 
our lives. It was champagne and old movies every night. We had a big 
swimming pool, and I made friends. 

There were about ten other girls in the film. The producer only liked to see 
women being humiliated. What a jerk. But, the men in the technical crew were 
nice, too. We were all joking around. We made a lot of nasty jokes up about 
the producer. I also learned a lot of tricks to getting ahead in the movie 
industry. 

I had to do about ten scenes. Most of them were really repetitive. And, 
Becky told me that she was considered .very imaginative in this sort of 
thing. It was all unbelievably immature and stupid. I couldn't imagine 
anybody getting off on it. But, Becky told me that there was a group of 
ass-holes, high up in the industry who got off on seeing the films. 

I find that hard to believe, but there it is. Well, the silliest scene I was 
in was the climax of the film. 

I had to do it with Becky, and two other girls. I got the worst part, but it 
wasn't that bad, so I didn't complain. The other girls wore the long leather 
boots, and I didn't that was the thing that I envied them. That was the one 
thing that I liked, those boots. 

Becky let me take a pair of them when it was over. 

Well, this was a tit scene. All of our tits were bound with rubber bands, 
and attached to other things, so our tits were pulled a little. 

It was slightly uncomfortable, and I dare say it didn't do much for the 
maintanence of a good uplift, but it wasn't so bad for a thousand dollars. 

There were two girls, one of whom was Becky, behind me. They were attached 
to this block. There was this spiked wheel on the board. It was really 
rubber, and bent as soon as it touched us, but it looked like it would 
lacerate our asses. Pretty sick, I thought. 

Becky had her tits attached to her thumbs, and her legs to the board. Judy 
had her tits attached to this stick behind my elbows, and her legs were 
attached to Cindy's. My tits were attached to a stick behind Cindy's knees, 
so my face was pressed into Cindy's cunt. She wasn't shaved either. 

Cindy's tits were attached like Judy's to my stick. Cindy also had a gag 
around her mouth. Becky did that as a joke since Cindy kept making funny 
comments about my face being in her cunt. As it was, Cindy wouldn't stop 
keeping her hands in a comical gesture, even though they were bound to her 
shoulders. Finally, Becky kept it in, she said, it could be taken as 
pleasure at my cunt-lapping. 

For good measure, Becky spread some goo on Judy's thighs, like her boots 
were cutting into her. I had to wear these ugly white boots that only came 
up to my knees. 

It was the stupidest looking scene I ever saw. We really had a good laugh 
when we looked at the stills. We had been caught in the stupidest 
expressions of phony masochistic pleasure. 

Well, soon after that scene had been shot, the filming was over. I got the 
rest of my money, and a limousine drive home. 

Since, then I haven't had another acting job, but I do have the money to 
wait for something with a little dignity. But, I wouldn't mind something 
like that again. It's a good way to make some bucks quick, and the laugh's 
on the producer and consumer. 

THE STORY OF ANAIS 

I was a struggling young writer. I needed money, so I had to do it. It was 
more tedious than really repugnant. But, I find tedious things just as soul 
destroying. 

I had enough money from my grandfather's inheritance to go to France. I 
lived there for a year on the money I had. I lived extravagantly. I had a 
lot of friends, true friends, who were even more broke than I was, so I paid 
for their wine and bread. 

My best friends were June and Henry. He was a writer, and she was his 
mysterious wife. He wrote about her, mostly, at that time. He wrote 
marvelous, lusty books, filled with the spirit of life. But, at that time, 
he was not making any money off of his work. 

I was a bit shocked at the way he would use his friends in order to get free 
meals and money. But, he had respect for me. He said that I was the new 
voice for women. He also was intrigued by me since I seemed to be able to 
have a normal relationship with June. We were just women friends. She was 
just a silly, bright, gossip when she was with me. But, with Henry, she was 
a femme fatale. She never told him the truth if she could think up a lie. He 
was obsessed with her. 

June really loved him. She thought he was a genius. But, she felt that all 
men were faithless, and she had found that the way to handle them was to be 
mysterious. I disagreed with her. I had never liked lying. I wanted my 
husband and my lovers to know the real me. I didn't worry about keeping them 
in my web. I was more interested in my own experiences of life. 

However, I liked June a lot better than the mousy little wives of the other 
men in my circle. 

The only other woman who I really liked was Djuna. Now, there was a woman. 
She had a true night time spirit. 

Well, we all had a very great life. Paris was in its prime. The streets were 
full of art and artifice. We would go to the cafes every night and drink and 
talk. Then, our money ran out, or rather my, as I was supporting everyone 
else, my money slipped away. We lived on credit for a while, but then, even 
that went out. 

Then, one day Henry came into my room. He was laughing. He said, "Take a 
look at this." 

He gave me a picture. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. The first 
thing I noticed was the poor quality of the art. I said, "I hope you didn't 
pay money for this, why Andre Breton could draw better." 

He said, "Andre doesn't draw." 

I said, "Exactly." 

Henry said, "Anais, you aren't looking at it. What is it?" 

I looked at the thing. What it was repulsed me even more. Some idiot had 
drawn a picture of a woman tied up with a rope. Her long, thick hair was 
over her face so she couldn't see anything. Her delta of venus was shaved, 
and the rope was tightly pressed into the woman there, and along the length 
of her naked body. 

The woman's breasts were standing up in a position that was impossibly 
erect. The rope hung over her head. It was unpleasantly like a hangman's 
noose. Her feet were also bound by the rope. And she was in a yoga like 
posture. 

In the background of the picture was a cave like wall. On one end were two 
chains with hand cuffs dangling. I said to Henry, "What do you mean by 
showing me this vulgar thing?" 

He said, "That's going to be wine and bread for the week." 

I said, "What do you mean by that? Did you draw this ugly thing?" 

He said, "No. I have to write a story to go along with it." 

I said, "Why? What sort of a stupid story could accompany such a hideous 
drawing?" 

Henry said, "Oh, something dirty enough to get off the old bastard that's 
paying me." 

I said, "You are being paid to write pornography? How could you?" 

He said, "Easy. It's only trash. And, I'll get a dollar a page." 

I said, "A dollar a page! How much do you write?" 

He said, "I intend to do about ten a day. I can knock a first draft off at 
night, when I'll do it at night when I have insomnia. Then, June said she'd 
retype it, do her share. Although, I think with all the stories that she 
tells me, she should be able to write her own." 

I said, "Well, let's see ... ten dollars a day, and that's off the books, 
right?" 

"Yes." he said. 

"So, say you do it five times a week, that's fifty dollars ... you could 
survive on that." I said to him. 

"Right. And, it's painless enough." he said. 

"Well, congratulations. My money's just about gone." I said. 

"Well, I figured I'd pay you back for all the wine you gave me, by tipping 
you off to this deal. I thought you might like to write, too." he said. 

"Well, let's see. You really find it easy?" I asked. 

"Yeah, you don't have to worry about making it good literature. In fact, it 
really shows you the difference between real literature and hack work. You 
can make the plots and characterizations really ridiculous, too. It can be 
fun in a crummy sort of way." he said. 

"Well, how do I contact this man?" I asked. 

"Oh, he's very secretive. He certainly wouldn't want to meet a woman that 
was writing for him. I think he's a rich old bastard. I was contacted 
through his lawyer. He had read that piece I published in the broadside, and 
thought I had great potential to be a dirty writer. I don't know if that's a 
compliment or an insult. In any case, he contacted me, and I decided to try 
it." he said. 

"So, how much have you done so far?" I asked him. 

"I've done two short stories, so far. I have to do about a forty page story 
for two illustrations. So, I do get a lot of leeway as to what I want to 
fill the rest up with. But, it all has to be explicit." he said. 

"So, do I just contact his lawyer?" I asked him. 

"Yeah, I'll give you his address. He's quite up on the literary scene, 
actually. He's heard of you. He read that little prose poem that you put 
out. He thinks you have good potential too. His client is very excited about 
having a woman write for him." he said. 

"Well, I guess it's worth a try. The money will come in handy, and it won't 
take up much of my time. But, what I'm really looking for is another job as 
a Spanish dancer." I said. 

"Yeah, try to find that with your husband gone." he said, somewhat 
tactlessly. 

So, I went to see the lawyer. It was a very distinguished looking office. 
The man was very genteel to me. He spoke strictly in euphemisms. 

I asked him about his client. He said that he was an elderly man, who spent 
most of his days in his family house. He just lived with a few servants. He 
had a passion for erotic fiction. Now that he had the money to spend, his 
passion was to collect his own books that nobody else would have. He also 
liked to have good writers work for him. He thought they might come in as 
good investments someday. 

So, I picked up my picture, and started on my first story. I told the man 
that I'd have it done by the end of the week. I didn't want to overtax 
myself on my first assignment. 

The first picture I had to work with was pretty ludicrous. It was of two 
women. They were both very busty, and hairless, even in their deltas. They 
were in some room, with what looked like a millstone. 

One woman was upside-down. Her head was hidden inside the millstone. Her 
arms were spread out, and latched onto the stone with metal. Her upside down 
position made her breasts fall in twin, round heaps by her throat. 

The unfortunate woman's feet were latched to a wooden board, which was 
attached to the second woman's waist. So, the upside down woman's body was 
straight up in the air. 

The board was attached to a metallic looking band around the other woman's 
waist. 

The other woman was bound to a wooden beam going across the walls. She was 
upright. A rough rope was under her enormous breasts, and her upper arms, 
which were on the other side of the beam. 

The top woman's ankles were attached to a metal rod which was pressed into 
the lower woman's hairless delta. The wooden board at the upside down 
woman's feet, was also pressing into a delta, the top woman's delta. 

The women were just there, bound. There was nobody else in the picture. It 
was up to me to invent some sort of preposterous reason why they were being 
held in such a debasing posture. 

The lawyer told me to make it as degrading to the women as possible. I had 
balked at first at the cruelty of the poses, but he had told me that I 
didn't have to dwell on the physical pain. 

The arousing aspect for the man that would read it would be the submission 
of the women. They would give themselves totally to their master, in fear of 
even worse treatment. It was to be a psychological drama. 

So, I set out to think up a story. At first, I strove to make a good 
psychological novelette. But, then, I realized that that was pointless. No 
decent psychological work, no work of true human action, could be made out 
of such shoddy material. My reader was not interested in the real problems 
of human relationships. I had no hope of writing of the actual axes of 
dominance and submission between lovers. 

That would be too subtle. The man only wanted the cheapest sort of arousal. 

It would not be art, but utilitarian writing. It would go by the Vatican's 
definition of pornography. It would just be judged by its ability to give 
the reader an erection. 

Well, I did my job. And, I went back for my next set of pictures. I had to 
write about bestiality. I found that much more interesting. I dug into my 
mythology, and tried to work in the ancient fascination with our fellow 
animate creatures. I thought I had done a good job of it. I was quite 
satisfied with the wav I had woven in the mystical and sensual obsessions of 
my heroine. But, my feedback was, "Make it dirtier. Make it more explicit." 

So, I soon gave up on applying any excellence in my work. I just tried to 
fill up the pages as quickly as possible. I even learned to make my 
paragraphs short, and to make a line of conversation just long enough to go 
down to the next line. That way, I could go down a page much more quickly. 

By the end of the month, not only Henry and I, but several of our friends 
were writing. We would get together, to make it less tedious. We would give 
each other ideas, and sometimes we had good laughs about the things we 
thought up. Some days we would get giddy, and hold contests to see who could 
write the most inane dialogue, or think up the most bizarre sexual act. 

To relieve the deadening task, we sometimes worked on parodies of famous 
works of literature. But, that usually took too long. And, any cleverness in 
our work was not appreciated by our client. He always sent the message, 
"More details. Stick to the dirty parts." 

So, we did as he asked, although sometimes we had to stick in an in joke on 
him, or we would have gone crazy. Eventually, we stopped writing his filth. 

Henry was the first to drop out. He stopped because he found it was 
destroying his ability to write his own work. You see, his work was so 
centered on sensuality, although of a very artistic sort, that writing 
pornography was just counteracting it. He found himself getting crippled as 
a writer. 

I was mostly concentrating on my diary in those days, so my work wasn't 
effected so much. I just put my three hours of dirty work out of my mind as 
soon as they were finished. My life was very exciting then, otherwise. I 
kept meeting the most fascinating people, and I liked putting them in my 
diary as much as meeting them. One day, I hoped to publish it. It was 
becoming a legend. It would probably become better known than my fiction 
.and poetry. 

Actually, the work did have a sort of merit. Paradoxically, it was making us 
more purified in our sexuality. In our books, we had to dwell on the sensual 
and cruel aspects of sexuality. We all have some of that in ourselves, and 
often in our real sex lives. But, having to spend so much time, energy, and 
imagination on such sordid aspects of sexuality, we, in a sense, gorged 
ourselves. It was like starting a withdrawal from alcohol by getting so 
drunk one is sick. 

I don't know how it is for the reader of pornography. I've read some of the 
classics, such as, "The Story of O", which, incidentally, I don't find any 
merit in as literature, unlike some male literary critics, who have probably 
not had the exposure to the writing aspect of pornography that I have had. 
Anyhow, I've read "O", and the collected best of "The Pearl", and "Fanny 
Hill". The latter two have interest as period pieces. I don't actually think 
that sexuality is as important as many people think, but I do think that 
seeing the sexual obsessions of a culture can tell you something about a 
culture. So, it was interesting to read those archaic stroke books. 

But, I've never been a reader of pornography. I guess most people read a few 
books in their lifetime. They probably just satisfy curiosity, and perhaps 
teach a few techniques, although most pornography, probably written by men 
gives an untrue, in my opinion, view of sex. But, I don't think one thinks 
about it too much for the few books one reads, if one is a normal person. 

However, those people, such as my patron, who collect, and seemingly are 
obsessed with written erotica,, must get something else out of it. I wonder 
if it can be a case of extreme pleasure in the text, to use Barthes' 
terminology. Maybe it is in the case of my patron who was interested in 
getting good writers to write for him, and for him alone. However, I tend to 
think that for most of the obsessive readers of pornography, questions of 
literature, its nature and paradoxes, is far from their little minds. like 
most obsessions, of neurotics, there is probably a lot less there than meets 
the eye. 

It's like Breton. He may have found a truly fascinating madman in Nadja, 
but, much as my Romantic's soul would like to romanticize insanity, it turns 
out to usually be a sordid, dull little thing. Most of the insane people 
that I have met have been very tedious. I have tended to think that they 
were just not very bright to dwell so much on silly things. 

So, I don't think that habitual readers are doing anything interesting from 
a literary point of view. I don't think that they are experimenting with the 
limits of sensuality and symbology. I think they are just crude minded 
people who are just out for a cheap, sensual thrill of the most 
insignificant sort. Even my patron ended up being like that. 

Anyway, at that time, the writing of the trash was effecting my personal sex 
life in a progressive way. For a while, when it was all new to me. I would 
view my own encounters as experiments, or as research, depending on how 
active a role I was playing. 

My husband was away at that time. I had always had lovers, and with him 
gone, I went through one of my periodical promiscuous periods. This was 
begun about a month before I began the writing. 

I went through affairs, some of them simultaneously, with various phony 
poets, and lounge lizards. Then, I met Lawrence. I met him and his wife 
through June. I was not impressed immediately. He was an Englishman, 
although he had spent years in the British foreign office in Alexandria and 
in the Greek Islands, and knew Greek fluently. He also had a love of the 
Greek personality. He was the one who introduced me to the brilliant poetry 
of Cavafy. But, he remained an Englishman. And, I have never been one to 
fall for an Englishman. 

I find Englishmen too stuffy and cold. Their politeness chills me. Henry has 
written that way about Scandinavian women. But, I find Scandinavian men very 
exciting. I feel that sort of revulsion that Henry wrote about, about 
Englishmen. They seem to reek of the class system. And, they don't have that 
love of women that the other Europeans do. Well, the French and the 
Italians, I think, love women, and the Northern Europeans don't love them, 
but they are so strong in their masculinity that it is exciting. But, an 
Englishman is like cold porridge, that horrible mess that they like to eat 
for breakfast. 

Anyhow, so I wasn't very impressed by Lawrence. However, June insisted that 
I read the first part of the quartet that he was writing. I procrastinated, 
but finally, in a dull moment, I did sit down and begin it. I was very happy 
that I had. It was magnificent. 

I finished the whole six chapters in that one sitting, and went out to find 
Lawrence. I had to tell him right away how good it was. But, it was three 
days until I saw him again. 

When I did finally meet him again, I began to notice things about him that I 
hadn't wanted to see before, because of my stupid prejudice against 
Englishmen. I noticed the intelligent gleam in his green eyes. I noticed the 
sensuality of his hands. I noticed that, although he seemed to adore his 
wife, he had an eye for other women. 

I decided to make him my next lover. I used every trick that my Spanish 
father had taught me when I was young. He had been the best teacher. He 
thought I would become a dancer, and he wanted to prepare me to succeed at 
the wiles that a dancer must use. 

So, at that first meeting, I made an appointment with Lawrence to see him, 
without his wife. He was to come to my apartment the next afternoon, 
ostensibly to look at some of my poems. 

I dosed myself with perfume, and covered myself in silk. I had even bathed 
for nearly two hours in a new expensive bath oil. I was ready for him. 

It was a perfect day, too. It was cold, and wet. It was perfect for cuddling 
up indoors. It was English weather. 

I sat and did my nails while I waited for Lawrence to arrive. He was late, 
as I came to find was usual for him. I sat, and got more and more excited. 

Finally, he arrived. I listened to him climb up the rickety staircase. 
Finally, he was in my room. I made him sit down next to me. I sat close to 
him. 

I brought out my most erotic poems for him. He looked through them, moving 
his lips s he went along. He seemed to get the rhythms perfectly. Meanwhile, 
I was letting my shawl slip open and reveal my breasts to him, as well as my 
long, smooth legs. 

I noticed him noticing me. I moved closer to him. I was practically on top 
of him. I could feel his aroused breathing. 

Finally, he was moved beyond control. He rolled himself on top of me. He 
opened my shawl and robe all the way. He feasted his eyes on my treasures. 

I was heaving with excitement. I loved to have him look at me like that. 
Then, he took his hand, and put it to my breast. He squeezed it until I 
nearly passed out. 

Next, he took my sheets of paper, where my poems were written, and began to 
rip them up. I was shocked. They were my only copies of the poems. I cried 
out. He continued to rip them up. 

Then, he forced my trembling legs apart, and stuffed the ragged edged papers 
up my delta. It was waxy paper, and it really hurt. I screamed in pain and 
rage. He just laughed, and put his hand over my mouth. 

Then, he unbuttoned his trousers. He had a huge cock. He put it to my hole, 
and slid it into me. I was still very upset, and angry. But, his fucking me, 
really turned me on. I was already coming. The scraps of paper were 
scratching inside me. They were pushed deeper into my on the end of his 
prick. 

Lawrence pumped away at me. He was rough. He gave me no mercy. But, I had 
never had such intense pleasure, or such pain. Finally, when I was red and 
sore inside, he came. He came inside of me with long, hot spurts. 

When he removed his cock from my cunt, he put it up to my mouth. He said, 
"Lick it off, and swallow the bits of your lousy poems." 

I was crying with humiliation, but I did as he said. 

He just looked at me with his handsome bastard's eyes while I cleaned off 
his come coated dick with my tongue. Then, he said, "Do you have a razor?" 

I was too afraid to answer. Then, he slapped me and said, "Answer, me!" 

I said, "It's in the medicine chest in the bathroom." 

He said, 'That's better. Where's your phone?" 

I said, "In my bedroom." 

He went to the phone, and phoned our cafe. I heard him say over the phone, 
"Come on up to Anais' place, I'm trying something out on her." 

Then, he went and got my razor. He returned to the couch, and made me sit on 
his lap until our guests came. 

When I saw ten of our male friends from the cafe come in the room, I quickly 
closed my robe around me. I saw Lawrence sneer at me. He said to the men, 
"I'm going to show you Anais' pussy." 

I said, "No! You will not humiliate me in front of our friends." 

He just slapped me, and forced me onto my back on the couch. He could make 
my robe come off, but I refused to open my legs. The men crowded around. 
None of them had ever been to bed with me, or seen me naked. 

I put my feet at Lawrence's crotch. He was hard again, inside of his 
trousers. I pushed against his bulge with my feet. He pressed against me. 

He bent his body down, and put his hand to my naked crotch. He let the men 
crowd around, and see my brown pubic hair. I could hear them sighing. They 
were gazing with desire at my curly hair. 

Then, Lawrence took the razor, and began to shave off my hair. I moaned with 
the humiliation. The men crowded closer so they could see everything. 

Soon, all the hair was gone in front. My slit was visible to all the men. I 
could have died. Then, Lawrence said, "You better open up, or I'll cut you." 

What could I do but obey. I opened my thighs. The men were clearly gasping 
by then. They watched with bated breath while Lawrence shaved off the hair 
between my legs. My whole pussy was bald and they could see the outer lips. 

Then, Lawrence said, "That's not enough. You've got to show the inner lips." 

But, I would not let him have that to show our friends. I needed to hold 
something back. But, Lawrence said to one man, "Bring me Anais' paintbrush 
over there." 

I was doing a bit of painting in those days, too. I had a clear, plastic 
container with brushes on my kitchen table. It was a small apartment, and I 
had to do my art in the kitchen. 

The man fetched a broad brush. He brought it to Lawrence. Lawrence laughed 
devilishly. He held the brush in his hand. He said to the men, "Now, watch 
this." 

He took the brush and began to stroke my slit with it. I tried to hold out, 
but soon, too soon, the sensations were too much for me. I began to moan. It 
felt so good. It was so arousing. All the men were watching me, and I was so 
ashamed to be coming in front of them. I was so humiliated at being forced 
to lose control in front of my cafe mates. 

Lawrence kept stroking me. Finally, I had to open my cunt wider. I pressed 
out. Soon, my whole jewel was showing. The wet, sticky inner folds were 
visible to the men. They were all blinking with desire. I just closed my 
eyes and groaned. I was coming, I was losing all control. I was totally 
vulnerable. But, it felt to good to do anything about it. 

Finally, I panted out my orgasmic noises. Lawrence stopped stroking me. He 
said to the men, "You can all go now. Anais has shown you everything that 
she has." 

They all left. I curled up on the couch, and sobbed. I said to Lawrence, 
"That was cruel." 

He said to me, "I want you to give everything. I am interested in your total 
submission, not in your stupid poetry." 

I began to wail. He sneered, arid left me. I stayed on the couch the rest of 
the night. I was shaken with humiliation. 

Anyhow, I wrote this story, while I waited for him to come. Then, my phone 
rang. It was Lawrence. He said, "My wife and I have to go somewhere, so I 
can't see you today. Maybe tomorrow." 

I was very disappointed. I said, "Yeah, sure." 

After that, I just kept him as a literary friend.
