Naughty Daughters-Spanked Red Cheeks
by Unknown 


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

The role of the parent is to provide guidance for the child, providing him 
or her with the proper stimuli, with the proper motivation, and instilling 
in the young mind a proper code of values with which to enable the child to 
make decisions for him or herself as they grow. 

It is, alas, all too often that it is also the role of the parent to punish 
when behavior warrants it. 

Indeed, at times, to spank. 

Corporal punishment has assumed many different roles in the society, from 
the school, which so often acts 'in loco parentis' and even in the church, 
as one of our case histories will document. 

What happens, however, when such punishment ceases to be for behavior that 
needs modification, and instead becomes an end in itself? Indeed, an end 
with direct sexual connotations involved? Read now these case histories, and 
learn for yourself what happens when young women are spanked to arousal. You 
may never look at a belt the same again. 


CASE HISTORY ONE 

SUBJECT: MARIGOLD S. AGE: Twenty-one 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Marigold came to me with a severe case of sexual frigidity. For months now, 
it seemed that she'd been totally unable to feel the least bit of arousal 
for her husband. 

He was physically appealing ... in fact, by her own admission, exactly the 
kind of man that turns her on. 

He was successful ... financial problems being a frequent cause of marital 
problems, eliminating this possibility simply complicated the situation. 

And most important, he was a good lover. She recounted many stories of their 
early courtship, when they would supposedly spend hours in bed together. 

Why then, her chronic lack of feeling for him now? 

I realized that it would require a deep probe into her past, there to 
perhaps locate an emotional logjam of sorts, and hopefully to relieve it. 

Her early childhood was quite normal ... from all outward aspects. Typical 
upper middle-class upbringing. 

But as we moved into her teen years ... I realized that I was getting close. 

She began to grow evasive ... skipping over details, holding back from me. 

I tried to coax her into an open posture with me, assuring her that I could 
help her only if I knew the 'whole story'. 

The effect was profound. She started to cry and begged me to be patient with 
her. "It's all so horrible," she finally said, but I could get no more out 
of her. 

Hypnosis was clearly called for ... or perhaps a strong drug. She was a 
strong willed personality, and at first resisted my efforts to probe 
further, even while in a deep trance ... but then, as the tape recorder 
picked up her every word, the tale began to emerge ... . 

They used the paddle in my school. Can you believe that? Big kids, leaning 
over a large oak desk, waiting to receive their ration of punishment usually 
dealt out in five-stroke batches ... 

It's all so barbaric ... that's how it struck me. 

And yet, it gave rise to a sort of sub-culture within the student body ... a 
measure of status, almost. 

There was a kind of competitive attitude among the regular trouble-makers, 
and an informal point system ... For example, Mr. Parker, the chemistry 
teacher, was considered pretty easy ... though he'd give out more strokes to 
make up for it. 

On the other hand, Coach Manning would leave blisters sometimes, and Mr. 
Barker the assistant principal would simply 'tear you up' if he ever was 
responsible for spanking. 

Did it have any effect? I couldn't tell that it did. People like me never 
got in trouble anyway ... and even if we did, girls were almost never 
spanked. That seemed to be reserved for the boys. 

That is, until Mr. Rawlings appeared on the scene. 

I guess I was a junior. 

like all the teachers, he had his own personal paddle, for use in the 
classroom, should he feel that it was necessary. We all got used to the idea 
that in every class, usually, there'd be a ritual spanking, just to make an 
example out of some poor slob. 

Those dread words would ring out, usually after a casual question on the 
order of "What do you think you're doing?" or maybe something like "I hope I 
didn't hear you right ... " or others along the same lines that told you 
something was getting ready to turn serious. 

"Come on up here, would you?" the question would come, no question at all, 
of course ... it was the most deadly serious of commands. 

The hapless student would slowly rise from his desk. If he was a habitual 
trouble maker, there would be a smirk on his face, knowing that he was 
getting ready to gather more status points for the upcoming punishment. 

If he wasn't used to that kind of treatment, he would usually have more of a 
frightened look on his face. 

It was hard to tell which look would get the bigger rise out of the 
teachers. Some of them were real sadistic brutes, and you could really see 
the light in their eyes, the gleam of excitement as that poor, frightened 
schmuck made that long walk up to the front of the class. 

Then, there were others who liked giving it to the trouble-makers better. 

They'd take one look at that shit-eating, sarcastic grin on their face, and 
that would be it. They obviously looked at it as a challenge. 

And sometimes, they'd really be able to wipe that grin off, too. I seldom 
saw anyone actually start to cry, but even that happened once or twice. 

But the whole atmosphere was kind of weird, bizarre ... and also, in a 
perverted way, sexual. 

Oh yes. Don't kid yourself. Us virginal young girls, sitting out there in 
the classroom, watching those masculine buttocks laid out in front of us, 
watching them quiver and shake, almost feeling the sensation ourselves ... I 
mean, it's such a directly personal sort of thing, isn't it ... well, let me 
tell you ... if most definitely was sexual. Quite heavily sexual indeed. 

I never was able to acknowledge it, but there was usually a stick film in my 
panties by the time it was over ... 

There was something else, too ... something about imagining it ... feeling 
it ... the danger, the threat ... the risk ... that was part of it, I 
suppose ... like I say, I was never able to really deal with it in my head. 

It was always something that remained in the murky background, however ... 
like I said ... it was just something that was part of the tapestry of 
growing up ... it wasn't the kind of thing I spent a lot of time fantasizing 
about ... or think about at all ... 

Until, as I said, Mr. Rawlings showed up. Mr. Rawlings was something else 
altogether. 

Mr. Rawlings was human. He was gorgeous. He was funny. He treated us like we 
were people. He treated us almost like we were equals. 

Except, of course, that we weren't. And everyone knew it. He used his paddle 
like everyone else did, except that in his case, he used it like it was a 
joke. He'd leave them laughing, but they'd know that they'd been paddled. It 
was even weirder than the way the rest of the teachers acted. They enjoyed 
using the paddle ... but they acted guilty about it. He seemed to enjoy it 
... but didn't pretend otherwise. He liked it. 

That was what was so strange. Because he acted like spanking was not only 
normal ... it was fun. 

He never said anything like that, of course, but he sure gave that 
impression every time someone went up to the front of the class and got 
their punishment. 

Strange. 

Then, the inevitable happened. 

One day, there was some kind of teacher's meeting, and Mr. Rawlings was late 
for English class. 

Students will be students, and they will tend to have just as much fun as 
they possibly can. Whenever they can. And since there's almost no 
opportunity in school, they take advantage of what opportunities are 
presented. 

like right then. Five minutes, six minutes ... still no Mr. Rawlings. We 
didn't know what had happened to him, but no one seemed to care, really. The 
facade of civility and polite respect that students show for teachers wears 
off under almost any irregular circumstance. It didn't take long for the 
general buzz of conversation to rise up all over the room, for people to 
start talking very loudly. Spitballs started to fly. There were a couple of 
dirty jokes that started to circulate. An eraser flew across the room. 

Chalk started to fly. 

Things were rapidly reaching a point of chaos. 

I didn't take part in any of it, not until I felt something slithering down 
my back. 

I let out a shriek, so loud I surprised even myself. 

People started to laugh, I jumped out of my seat and screamed "You Bastard!! 
! " not even knowing until I turned around who had put it down my dress ... 
or even what it was that they'd put down there. 

It was Tommy Suggs, a real ass-hole from the word go. He was a complete 
loser on all counts, and I'd have loved to have seen him get pounded by Mr. 
Rawlings' paddle. 

Tommy sat there with a dumb grin on his face. 

"What's the matter," he asked, innocently. 

I was feeling down the back of my dress, and finally managed to work the 
material loose enough to get the thing to drop out onto the floor. 

It was a soft rubber worm, the kind they use for fishing lures. 

Even when I knew it wasn't alive, it made my skin crawl just to touch it. 

"You God Damned stupid mother fucker!! ! I screamed, and lunged at him, 
without even thinking about what I was doing. 

Tommy started to laugh, jumped back and deftly avoided me. 

I fell against the desk, in which Mary Ellen Rogers was still sitting. 

The desk fell over, the two of us spilled out onto the floor, and, wouldn't 
you know, at that moment, Mr. Rawlings walked in. 

The class fell silent immediately. 

He stood in the doorway, watching the scene, his eyes focused on me. 

I didn't know he'd walked in, but when the class went dead silent, I put two 
and two together. He was there all right, and I realized that my dress was 
painfully high up my legs. 

In fact, unless I missed my guess, he was looking right up it. Right at my 
panties. 

I let out a squeal, and tried to stand up. 

"Nope!" he said, not yelling, but in a commanding tone that made me pause. 
"Don't go moving. Not just yet. I want everyone to get a good look at this. 
Do you all see? Anyone who can't see. Go ahead, stand up. Take a look. I 
want you all to see what happens when immature people are left alone for a 
few minutes. It's sad. It really is sad. A pathetic commentary on our times, 
I must say." 

"Well, Tommy Suggs put a worm down my back!! " I cried out, standing up 
anyway. 

"Oh. So, you pushed Mary Ellen over to get even, is that it?" 

"No ... I didn't ... I mean ... I didn't mean ... " 

I was very angry Extremely angry and hurt. 

I also felt trapped. 

No one was saying a thing. 

"Tommy," Mr. Rawlings said to the idiot, "what about that? Did you put a 
worm down her back?" 

"I can't remember," he said. 

"Really? Well, that's too bad. Tell you what. I'll send you to Mr. Barker, 
and maybe hell be able to jog your memory loose a little bit. How's that 
sound?" 

"Uh ... not so good. Maybe I did drop something down her back ... but it was 
an accident ... really, it was an accident." 

"Mmmmmm hmmm. And so you, Marigold, went ahead and took it upon yourself to 
retaliate against him. Is that right?" 

"Well," I said, near tears now. I felt humiliated, frightened, and on top of 
that, I'd hurt myself when I fell, "he did it on purpose." 

"Well of course he did. Not even Tommy's stupid enough to do something like 
that accidentally. But we're not talking about Tommy. He'll get what's 
coming to him. We're concerned right now with what's coming to you." 

There was a genial, good-natured tone to his voice. He never stopped smiling 
the entire time. 

I narrowed my eyes, and suddenly, the words just lept from my mouth. 

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you! I think you're sick!! ! " 

The class kind of went cold then. I mean, talk about burning the bridges 
behind me. 

"I see. All right. Have a seat, would you please." 

He turned to Tommy. "Take off. I'll call Mr. Barker on the intercom and I 
promise you, he'll be expecting you." 

"That's not fair," Tommy muttered. Then, looking at me, he said "You'll get 
yours. I promise you. You'll get yours." 

"Oh fuck you!! ! " I screamed. 

I was starting to cry now. 

Mr. Rawlings waited patiently, and then said to me, "I'd like you to wait 
after class, Marigold. Till then, why don't you go outside and organize 
yourself a little bit? Right now you're just a mess." 

I couldn't seem to control myself. 

"Oh, you're just an ass-hole!! " 

The class gasped, and for the first time, I saw the smile flicker from his 
face. 

"All right, Marigold, that's enough. Come on up here, would you." 

"No ... " I said, holding back ... "No ... I don't want to." 

He walked to the front of the class and reached into his drawer. I watched 
almost without belief as he pulled the paddle out of the drawer and slapped 
it into the palm of his hand. 

He smiled at me again. 

Then, gesturing with the paddle, he pointed to the desk. 

"Over there, Marigold." 

This couldn't be happening to me, I thought. This was a bad dream I'd wake 
up from soon. 

But it wasn't going to go away. He stayed . right there at the head of the 
class, and I stayed right where I was, watching, trying to pretend to myself 
that it wasn't happening, that it wasn't really going to happen ... except 
that I knew that it was. 

It was too much to deal with. 

"Marigold, I'm not going to wait all day. It's going to just be a lot harder 
on both of us if I have to come get you." 

The bastard, I thought to myself. He really was enjoying it. He was going to 
spank me, and it was going to be in front of the entire class. But it wasn't 
going to be to punish me. If he'd wanted to do that, there were a lot of 
other ways that he could have done it, that would have been more effective. 

No ... he was doing it because he got off on spanking ... and the idea of 
spanking a girl must have really turned him on. 

I was scared to death, but, using a trick that I learned by copying my 
mother, I managed to translate my fear into anger. 

The bastard, I thought again, he was going to toy to humiliate me ... well, 
I just wasn't going to give him the chance. 

"All right," I said, "come and get me." 

The class was really enjoying themselves now. This was something they didn't 
get to see every day. A student lobbing the ball back into the teacher's 
court. 

"Marigold, you're starting to try my patience." 

"Oh, am I? Well. I'm sorry about that. But I don't think I deserve a 
paddling. I refuse to cooperate. If you want to spank me, go right ahead. 
But you're going to have to drag me up there." 

I thought I had him backed into a corner. I was wrong. 

He calmly placed the paddle on his desk and walked back to me. 

"You insisted on this, remember," he said, still sounding like a next-door 
neighbor, real friendly, real pleasant ... 

He stood in front of me, and I could see a lot of strange expressions 
crossing over his face in rapid-fire succession. 

Then, he lifted me up by my armpits and carried me up to the front of the 
class. 

I realized that I could have easily kicked him in the balls, if I'd wanted 
to, but that would have really complicated things. I didn't need that. 

I had enough things to worry about. 

"What's the matter, Mr. Rawlings," I asked, in a sugary sweet voice, "is 
this how you like to get your kicks? Spanking little girls?" 

He smiled at me. "When they're asking for it as much as you are, yes. You'd 
better believe it." 

I walked up to the front of the room. I knew what everyone wanted to see. 
They wanted to see a girl crumble. They wanted to see me cry and see me in 
pain. 

Well, I thought, fuck the bastards. They weren't going to. I wasn't going to 
let them. 

I flashed the class a sharp look, and could almost see the glow from the 
fire in my eyes bouncing off the far wall. 

Then I turned to Mr. Rawlings, and said "Well, whatever turns you on." 

I pulled my dress up, so that my panties were showing all the way up to the 
waistband. 

I could hear the class gasping in astonishment, and I think: even Mr. 
Rawlings was a little taken aback by that. But I didn't give him a chance to 
say anything. I threw myself across his fucking desk and said "Go on ... do 
what ever you want. I don't care." 

My ass, I might point out ... assuming you haven't already noticed, doctor, 
is perfect ... it's well rounded, tight, with cheeks that are almost 
spherical in their shape. 

It was frightening, waiting there for the blows to fall. I didn't have any 
idea what he'd do ... I could feel my heart pounding ... I could feel the 
eyes of the entire class homing in on my cheeks like laser beams ... 

And then, he did it. The bastard did it! He spanked me. Once ... twice ... 
three times that paddle stung my cheeks. 

I will not cry, I thought to myself ... I will not cry ... I will not cry 
... 

And I didn't, either. I bit my tongue, I bit my bottom lip ... I gritted my 
teeth, and I felt like screaming ... but I didn't cry. 

I stood back up, felt my dress dropping over my legs and my thighs, and then 
I turned to him, and I said "Will that be all ... or haven't you gotten your 
rocks off yet?" 

He gave me a sly, knowing look, slapping the paddle lightly against his 
palm, and then he said, "I'm wondering about you." 

Touche. Stalemate. He wasn't going to back down, but at least I hadn't 
either. 

I walked back to my seat, and then, Mr. Rawlings said, "I hope the rest of 
you are aware that everyone of you deserves the same thing that Marigold 
got, and you'd better be ready to do some fast talking if I ever come back 
in here and find this chaos going on again. Am I clearly understood?" 

No one disagreed with him. 

I spent the rest of the day feeling very, very strange. 

I couldn't figure it out ... but there was a sensation in my cunt that I'd 
never felt before ... 

I could feel my clit, deep inside my pussy lips, coated with a thick layer 
of my juices, oozing now out into my panties ... I could feel my nipples and 
they were hard points at the tips of my budding breasts. 

I couldn't get the thoughts of tha moment out of mind. The sting in my 
buttocks seemed to remain with me ... it was a glow ... a warmth, a feeling 
that was strangely comforting. I kept thinking about it ... 

Later that day, I was in the bathroom ... I was sitting on the toilet, and 
after I was finished pissing, instead of standing up, I began thinking of 
that moment, that one, utterly weird moment, when I pulled my dress up, 
flung myself across his desk, and waited ... 

I thought about what followed, those sharp cracks ... those intense bursts 
of pain ... 

I touched myself then, right on my clit. I'd done that before ... I knew 
what it felt like, but I'd been warned away from it by my mother ... and my 
aunt, and my grandmother ... 

That was nasty. 

That was dirty. 

Clean little girls never did anything like that. 

Well, at the moment, I wasn't feeling any too clean. I felt kind of soiled, 
and what was even weirder ... I liked it. I wasn't sure right then that I 
wanted to be a clean little girl. 

I touched my clit again, this time pressing into it. 

It felt stiff, hard, it felt like it was throbbing. 

I pressed against it now ... I pressed hard against it, and I felt an 
electric shock of pleasure ripple through my crotch. 

In that one instant, I knew that they'd lied to me. They'd told me things 
that weren't true. 

They'd tried to keep me from enjoying myself. 

Well, I thought, as I felt the juices starting to flow much more rapidly now 
... 

They weren't going to succeed. 

I started to feel flushed and hot. There were other girls in the restroom 
now, and they wouldn't leave. I could hear them talking, just standing over 
by the door. 

Then I smelled smoke ... a sickeningly sweet smell that I knew all too well. 
They were smoking pot. God, I thought, that's all I need, for some teacher 
to come in and bust them for smoking pot, while I'm there coming a fucking 
blue-streak with my fingers up my snatch. 

It was weird ... just as weird as everything else that had happened to me 
that day ... and you know what ... ? It was so unlike me, that I felt almost 
as if I was on a vacation or something ... a vacation from my ordinary life 
... things were suddenly expanding in my brain ... what had been impossible 
only twenty-four hours before was now not only possible, it was already 
seeming like it was common-place. 

Sound strange, Doc? Think how it must have felt to me, sitting there in that 
locked stall, slowly starting to slide my fingers up into my twat. I'm 
telling you, I was charged with an excitement that I'd never known before, 
and I didn't quite have a good idea about how to deal with it. 

I know that my pussy lips were flared wide ... as were my thighs ... and I 
was building up a real thick layer of juice all through my crotch ... my 
pubic hair was drenched, my thighs were slick and oily ... and my clit was 
too hard it almost hurt to touch it ... except that it also felt real good 
to touch it ... so fucking good that I couldn't stop. 

I was pinching it, I was pulling on it, I was raking my fingernails over the 
tip, everything I did just fueled the flames inside me higher and higher. 

I wanted to cry out, wanted to moan, wanted to groan, wanted to gasp, but 
those bitches over by the door just wouldn't leave. 

I was starting to freak out, for just a second anyway. What if they knew 
what I was doing? Or worse, what if they knew what I was thinking? Crazy? 
You bet. But I was paranoid. 

My brain was reeling from thoughts that I'd never allowed to enter it 
before, and the fact that I was finding them very stimulating and arousing 
just made me feel all the more guilt, and feel all the more paranoid. 

But it didn't stop me. I stuffed my fingers up into my snatch, spreading the 
hole apart widely. 

It was the most glorious feeling that I'd ever felt down there ... 

And then, there was an image that I'd often found myself trying to purge 
from my thoughts, one that I'd never allowed myself to acknowledge, at least 
not consciously. 

But I was always attracted to the sight ... the sight of bulging crotches 
... particularly in gym class ... those thin, short shorts ... that really 
did nothing more than outline perfectly the throbbing pieces of meat beneath 
them.... 

I'd look, and I'd imagine, for just one second, those throbbing, hard 
things, aiming right for my cunt ... splitting my body wide open ... 

It had never happened, of course, but I'd think about it, for perhaps a 
second or two, and then, the voice of my mother, and my aunt, and my 
grandmother would pop up from somewhere deep inside my brain. . 

'It's something you have to endure ... but you're going to hate it. Men 
demand it, and you have to pretend that you ll like it, but never kid 
yourself ... it's disgusting, it's degrading, it's humiliating ... it's the 
Lord's punishment for Eve tempting Adam. Women have to endure that horrible 
thing sticking up into them ... but if you're lucky, your husband will go 
looking elsewhere for it, and hell stop bothering you ... ' 

How often had I heard variations on that theme ... that sex was disgusting 
... 

Well, I was learning rapidly that they were all liars, or at best, sadly 
misguided, and now I was going to learn the truth for myself 

And so, those fleeting images of bulging crotches turned to long vignettes. 

I watch in my mind as all those gym shorts came down ... and every one of 
those cocks was gripped by a trembling fist, all of which stroked those 
beautiful organs to throbbing, pulsating erections ... and then, they all 
lined up ... every one of them, lined up and took turns, aiming those 
missiles of flesh right between my legs ... 

I stuffed my fingers further up into my cunt, felt the membranes stretching 
in ways that they'd never had an opportunity to do, and tried to imagine 
what it would feel like to have a real cock up there ... 

It was the first overt fuck fantasy I'd ever allowed myself, and the 
tingling sensation of letting myself do something that was even that daring 
sent pulses of orgasmic sensation rippling all through my body. 

My clit was humming now and my breasts were turning to blobs of jello. 

And then, all the cocks in my mind blended into one specific cock, and as I 
traced the image of that glorious, thick shaft back to the base, back to 
where the large sack of balls dangled freely between those powerful, well 
formed thighs, back up the flat, tight plain of his stomach ... back up to 
that massive, hairy chest, up, further, further, further, I found myself 
looking into that laughing face that I knew all too well. I was seeing Mr. 
Rawlings' cock before me, and God, I knew in that moment, that I was going 
to go back to his room, after school. I needed to see him again ... at least 
one more time. I needed to try to figure out what was going on. 

I didn't know, but as those first powerful waves of orgasm began to tear 
through my body, I was absolutely convinced of one thing ... I wanted to 
find out. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

I knocked on his door. I could feel my heart throbbing. I was also very, 
very confused, because there were several different reactions to the man 
that were racing through my head at the same time. 

One, was the feeling that I'd experienced in the bathroom ... it was lust, 
mad crazed, uncontrollable lust, and it was unfamiliar, frightening, and 
something that I wasn't sure that I even knew how to deal with. 

But there were other reactions too. 

Not the least of which was a deeply burning rage, that he'd forced me to 
endure that paddling in the first place. 

I knew that it had aroused me, but it also angered me. 

I guess I was still too young and immature to make the connection, that one 
might very well be feeding into the other. 

And then, there was something else, something that was a puzzling to me as 
the feelings of lust that were racing through me. 

I remembered looking into his eyes, seeing there a hint of his own desire.. 
I remembered taunting him, telling him that he liked it, that he was getting 
his rocks off paddling young girls, telling him that he was sick, perverted. 

Was he. 

And if so, why did get such a rise out of me? I couldn't put any of it 
together, but I knew that I wanted to taunt him some more.. 

I wanted to tease him, prove to him that he really did lust after my body, 
that he really did want to spank me ... 

And then, I reached the final, stunning conclusion ... I wanted him to spank 
me again. I couldn't explain it, but I kept seeing that paddle raised, I saw 
myself spread out over the desk, only this time, my panties were down, my 
naked buttocks were exposed, quivering and waiting for whatever he chose to 
do to them. 

"Come in," called the familiar voice from inside the room. 

I opened the door, and there he was, sitting at that same imposing desk, 
grading papers, smoking a pipe that I'd never seen him smoke in class, but 
which I'd often smelled in his pocket or on his breath. 

He looked up and smiled, as if nothing at all had happened that day. 

How would I proceed? I didn't know. But I knew that if I wanted to avoid 
making a fool of myself, I'd start improvising, and I'd start doing it real 
fast. 

"Marigold, what brings you here, this afternoon. I thought you students were 
only too ready to bolt from this place as soon as the last bell sounded." 

"Under ordinary circumstances, that's true," I said, trying to sound 
mysterious, perhaps even seductive. 

He arched an eyebrow. Only one. I thought to myself, hmmmm, must have 
tickled at least one nerve he hadn't been expecting have tickled. 

"What, may I ask, does that mean," he said, keeping his voice quite 
friendly, but with an added tone of.. I don't know how to explain it ... 
almost excitement, the way a gambler might sound when he's just heard that a 
big poker game's going on next door. 

"I think you know what circumstances I'm talking about," I said, plopping 
myself down on a desk in the front row right in front of him. 

He smiled. 

"I have to assume that you're talking about the unfortunate incident this 
morning." 

"You're very perceptive, Mr. Rawlings." 

"Am I? Marigold, I certainly hope that I don't hear sarcasm in your voice. 
You understand, of course, that's what got you in trouble this morning. I 
certainly didn't paddle you because you retaliated against Tommy Suggs. 
Obviously I couldn't come right out and condone your behavior in front of 
the rest of the class, but you'll notice that not once did I do anything 
other than offer you a face saving way out of the mess. But did you take me 
up on it? Not for a second. You had to start getting surly, nasty and 
generally disgusting. I'm very sorry if you hold some resentments towards 
me, but I really had no choice ... " 

I was smiling at him. 

I wasn't even sure what the expression on my face looked like, but it was 
enough to make him pause and study it. 

"Why are you smiling like that?" he finally asked me. 

"Because you're still playing the game." 

"I see. And what game is that?" 

"The game that says that teachers and students are supposed to relate in a 
certain, specific manner with each other." 

"And you think that's a game?" 

"Now it is. It's after school. There's no one else around. It's just you and 
me. Surely, we can talk honestly now, can't we?" 

He frowned, and I could see the first wavering in his composure. 

"Marigold, I'm not exactly sure that I like the way this conversation is 
going. Do you think maybe you could get to the point?" 

"You got a kick out of it, didn't you?" 

"What?" 

He started to laugh. 

"Marigold, I really hope I can dissuade you from thinking such foolishness 
before you leave here this afternoon. I'd hate for you to go around talking 
like that. It wouldn't do either of us any good." 

"Either of us? Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Rawlings?" 

"Why don't you tell me ... what are you talking about, my dear? I would very 
much like to know because to be honest, I'm starting to get a little annoyed 
by this entire conversation, and it--" 

"Mr. Rawlings," I said sweetly, "why don't you cut the crap?" 

He stopped talking, stared at me silently, and waited for me to go on. I 
couldn't believe I was talking to him like this. 

I felt my hands quivering, my legs felt weak, and even though I wanted to 
stand up and walk over to him, I didn't trust them to hold me up So I simply 
sat there, keeping what I hoped was an enigmatic smile on my face, staring 
him down, hard, not giving an inch. 

"I think you misunderstand my reason for coming here," I said, feeling my 
heart pound even harder. I really hadn't known what I wanted to do when I 
first walked into that room. Now, as I talked to him, I was discovering my 
own goals.. I was learning who I was, in a way 

I didn't know how I was going to pull it off, but I knew what I wanted. I 
wanted him. 

"So, if I misunderstand what you want, why don't you explain it to me?" 

I took a deep breath. 

This was it ... the moment of truth ... this was where I'd either make it, 
or lose it completely. 

I stared deep into his eyes, and what I saw there convinced me that I was on 
the right track ... wherever I might end up, I had him figured out right. 

I slowly stood up, keeping that enigmatic smile on my face. 

"What I want, Mr. Rawlings.. isn't really all that hard to figure out, is 
it? I just want to be given ... what I deserve ... and I want you to get 
what you deserve too ... do you understand me?" 

His eyes grew wide ... wider, wider yet. I was almost ready to come apart, 
the tension inside me was so great. 

But I kept my cool. I held myself together, moved closer to him moved around 
the desk and stood at the side of his chair ... 

I was looking down at him now down at his upturned face, so filled with a 
mixture of confusion, wariness, and desire ... yes, that was there ... 
desire ... lust ... for me ... for my young, naked ass ... for my tight, 
firm body, for my breasts, so young and yet already so big ... 

I knew he wanted me ... I knew he'd been turned on by spanking me this 
morning, and I knew that he was turned on right now. 

God was he turned on. His hands were shaking, and I could see that his cock 
was hard and throbbing. 

"You know what you want, don't you Mr. 

Rawlings? Hmmm, don't you know what you want? I do. I think I know exactly 
what you want. 

I held my breath and reached out ... and I touched the back of his neck. 
Now, as I've already pointed out, I hadn't had a whole lot of experience 
with seduction, or with fucking at all. I was a virgin, technically, 
although my cherry had been busted long before from a tampon that I'd used 
wrong ... that didn't bother me. What bothered me was that I wasn't sure how 
to deal with him. 

I knew that I was copying movies that I'd seen, copying seductive styles and 
imitating ... was that good ... I didn't know. 

I knew only that the second I touched him, his body stiffened. He didn't 
slap me away though, and by simply sitting there, and letting my hand stay 
where it was, he crossed the line with me, and we both knew it. 

"I think I know what you'd like to do to me, Mr. Rawlings ... I think you'd 
like to touch my body ... I think you'd like to take my dress off ... and 
unhook the cups to my bra, watch my breasts spill out, watch them jiggle, 
feel them ... they're very soft. You know that though, don't you? Sure you 
do. You've watched me. You've watched all of us. Haven't you? 

He started to smile. "I don't believe it," he said softly. "You're trying to 
seduce me." 

I faltered for a moment. Was he toying with me now? Or was he only 
pretending to still be aloof. I went for broke. 

"I don't think it surprises you. Or offends you. Does it?" 

He chuckled, but there was a tightness to his voice, a feeling that he 
wasn't as organized inside himself as he was pretending. 

I started to massage the muscles in his neck. 

"Mr. Rawlings," I said, softly, 'you feel tense. Am I making you nervous? 
Gosh., I sure wouldn't want to do that. You shouldn't feel nervous ... 
really ... we both want the same thing ... I think the only difference is, 
I'm not afraid to admit it. That's probably why you're so tense, and I'm so 
relaxed., and I am relaxed, Mr. Rawlings ... really I am." 

As I continued to work over his muscles, I could feel him actually starting 
to getting aroused ... which was true, but then I looked down at his crotch 
and I saw that the truth was much more specific. His cock was getting so 
hard, and had grown so large that he was having to move it around inside his 
pants to give it more room. 

"Gosh, Mr. Rawlings," I said, sounding like Shirley Temple now, "that's ever 
so big. Don't you think you ought to let it out, and give it some room to 
breathe?" 

That really shattered him. 

I could see beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

"What's the matter, Mr. Rawlings? I don't understand? You seem to be so 
nervous. Would you like me to leave?" 

"No ... but I think we should ... I mean ... well, my God, Marigold, you're 
just a student ... and I'm your teacher." 

"It's after hours now, Mr. Rawlings. And look, I'm not the one who started 
this You are. Now, I just want to see if you have the balls to keep it up. 
In more ways than one." 

"You're getting into dangerous territory, Marigold.' 

"I know. That's why it's so much fun." 

"What do you want?" 

"What you want," I said, moving around in front of him 

He was staring hard at me now, looking deep into my eyes, trying to figure 
out where I was coming from. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, provocatively, I started to pull my dress up. 

"Remember how I did this, this morning, Mr. Rawlings? Remember how my 
panties looked. Well, I want you to know something. They're a real mess now 
You want to know why? Because they're stained. You want to know where 
they're stained? Right between my legs. 

They're stained from all my juice ... and they're wet ... they've been wet 
all day ... and the reason they're wet, is because I've been thinking of 
you, Mr. Rawlings. Is that wrong? It doesn't feel wrong. It feels good. It 
feels like the best thing that could happen to me. I sat on a toilet this 
afternoon, with the door locked, and felt myself, and I was hot and wet and 
it was because of you, Mr. Rawlings you made me that way ... you made me 
hot, and you made me wet, and GOD I want you to do it again ... I want you 
to make me hot and wet, and I want you to do whatever you want to do. I 
don't care what it is ... I'm yours ... I'm giving myself to you ... you can 
send me away if you want, but I don't think you want to ... and if you do, I 
think you'll regret it, don't you ... hmmmm? Don't you think you'll be sorry 
if you send me away?" 

All the time I'd been talking, I was slowly raising my dress., when the hem 
reached the point where my legs came together, I stopped, holding it right 
there, and giving him quick little peeks of what lay above ... peeks of the 
crotclipiece of my panties moving down between my legs, glimpses of the dark 
wet stain that was slowly spreading outward from my cunt, glimpses of those 
two pink lips, swollen and filled with desire, glimpses of the material of 
my panties disappearing up into my wet slit ... 

I was holding him frozen to that spot ... he couldn't move. 

"What do you think," I said. "What do you think, Mr. Rawlings? Hmmmm? Don't 
you want me? I'm yours. God, I'm yours I want you. Anything. Anything at 
all. I don't care. I really don't care at all. Just do whatever you want to 
do." 

I was trembling now, shaking from every muscle and joint, but it wasn't from 
fear any longer ... it was from being so damn hot I couldn't control myself 
to save my life. 

He was almost drooling over my body, but so far, he'd made no move for me. 

I pulled my skirt a little higher, showing off most of my slit, what was 
visible anyway ... so much of it disappeared down between my legs, and the 
way I was standing, he couldn't really see down there ... not yet. 

But he could see my patch of pubic hair ... it was a perfect triangular 
shape, and was soft, pale in color, and was something that he wanted to sink 
his fingers into very much. 

I kept my skirt up, pulling it all the way to my waist, and then quickly 
letting it drop back down again ... pulling it up to my waist once more, 
slipping my fingers underneath the material of my crotchpiece, and then 
pulling it aside ... just for a second ... but I knew what he wanted ... I 
knew what he was waiting to see ... and that was it. He wanted me. He wanted 
my body. My cunt. 

Then, abruptly, I dropped my skirt all the way back down. 

He looked momentarily disappointed. 

I turned and walked for the door, and I guess he thought I was going to 
leave, because I heard him starting to say something, but then, I spun back 
around, my hand on the door knob. 

"I can open this and leave, or I can lock it. From the inside. Whichever you 
say." 

He was crumbling. Fast. So fast, I was almost disappointed to see how 
quickly I'd taken control of him. 

He waited a long moment, looking helpless ... as if he knew he was signing 
his own death warrant, yet powerless to do otherwise. 

"Lock it," he finally said in a hoarse voice. "For God's sake lock it. The 
last thing we need is someone coming in here. And pull the blinds while 
you're at it." 

"Why, I'd be glad to, Mr. Rawlings." 

I flipped the lock, and then I slid the bolt into place. 

I started to walk over to the windows and one at a time, I pulled the blinds 
shut. 

He was still sitting in his chair, still staring hard at my body. 

I stared back, stared him down, and then, I started to unbutton my blouse. 

"Wouldn't you have liked me to have done this this morning? You wanted to 
spank me naked, didn't you? I could tell. I could see it in your eyes. You 
wanted to take my clothes off, didn't you?" My blouse fell open, and I 
started to play with the clasp It was right between my cups, in front, and I 
took my time. I wanted to tease him till he couldn't control himself 
anymore. 

"You were taking my clothes off anyway. With your eyes. I could feel them, 
they were burning right through my clothes.. I could feel them on my skin. 
You and everyone else in this room. They all wanted to see me naked. The 
sacrificial virgin, on the altar. Isn't that right?" 

He smiled. That was all. I knew that I was really getting to him. 

I let the cups of my bra fall open, but kept them over my nipples ... and 
then, I started to walk back over to him, over to where he was still 
sitting, spellbound. 

"You're so easy to see through, Mr. Rawlings ... you really are. You know 
that? It's fun, in a way, because you're cool about it, but you don't hide 
yourself very well." 

"Are you saying I'm an open book?" 

"Not quite ... let's just say there are reviews of you pasted up all over 
your face. It's not too hard to figure out what you're about." 

"And what am I about?" 

I chuckled. 

"Unless I'm really wrong, you're about to dig your fingers into my body, and 
live out your fondest fantasies." 

He reached up, pulled my bra cups off of my breasts, and then gently slid 
both my blouse and my bra off of my shoulders. 

"Mmmmmm," he said, appreciatively, staring hard at my firm tits. 

"You like what you see?" 

"Of course. I'm no fool." 

"You've thought about this before, haven't you." 

"No more than you." 

"I know ... " I said as his fingers began to dig into to soft fleshy mounds 
of my breasts. 

"Oh, God, yes," I started to moan, "yes, yes, yes. Hard. Hard. Oh yes, 
harder. Squeeze them Pinch them. Pull on them. Do anything you want to them 
" 

He was losing his cool rapidly. I watched the expression on his face slowly 
turn from the calm, sophisticated teacher, to one of a lust-ridden animal, 
unable to control his instincts, and not wanting to at any rate. 

He was pulling on my nipples now, pulling hard on them. They felt like they 
were swelling points of fire, a flame that was rapidly spreading all through 
my body. 

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," I whimpered, "God yes. That's wonderful I love it so 
much." 

As he kept up the pressure on my nipples, I quickly unzipped my skirt and 
unceremoniously let it fall to the floor. 

With my cunt covered only by my see-through panties now, I pushed it up into 
his face. I felt the point of his nose pressing against my clitoris, felt it 
quivering madly from lust, felt it shaking, sending out regular pulses of 
crazed, demented pleasure, felt it screaming for more. Much more. 

My entire body, in fact, was charged, as if it all was simply one massive, 
engorged clit. 

More, I thought. More stimulation. More sensation. More pleasure. But wasn't 
there a point where pleasure became too intense. Where it turned to pain? 

But if that were true, then surely, the converse must be true as well. There 
could be a point where the mind would translate pain into pleasure, wouldn't 
there? 

That's the point that I was at now. I'd been thinking about that spanking 
all day long, and by now, all I wanted was more of the same. Much more. More 
intense, longer duration ... 

I wanted him to beat me till I was shrieking.. 

I can't explain it, not even to this day ... it's a mystery why that was 
such an arousing experience ... but I knew that I'd go out of my mind if I 
didn't have it repeated. 

I felt his fingers creeping up my thighs spreading my pussy lips, slipping 
up inside of me. . 

"Oh yes, yes," I gasped, fumbling for his cock. 

It was so stiff, so amazingly hard and throbbing, I couldn't believe it. All 
of that was supposed to fit up inside my body? It didn't seem possible. But 
I would sure try, if that's what it came down to. 

But first, I wanted something else. 

I opened the drawer that I knew held his paddle. 

There it was, polished, varnished, smooth, thick and heavy 

I picked it up and handed it to him. 

"Spank me. Please. Spank me some more ... I want it. Would you?" 

He stared at me in disbelief, but I could tell that he was in no mood to 
talk me out of it. 

"If you're sure that's what you want." 

"God yes. Of course I'm sure ... of course I'm sure, can't you tell? Isn't 
it obvious?" 

And with that, I stepped back, shed my panties, and taking a deep breath, I 
flung myself face down onto his desk. 

There was no sound behind me for a long time, and then, I heard him rising 
from his chair. 

He stood behind me for a while, running his hands over my buttocks, running 
his fingertips through my crack, tickling my ass-hole, and then, moving on 
down between my legs, slipping his finger up into my cunt. 

I writhed on it, I squirmed, I moaned and I groaned. 

Then, he picked up my panties and said to me, "Open your mouth. You're going 
to make a lot of noise. I can tell. I don't think that's the best policy." 

I would have ordinarily been revolted by the thought of putting my panties 
in my mouth, particularly when they'd gotten as wet and stained as these 
were. 

But that afternoon, there wasn't even a second thought. 

I opened wide, and he gently filled my mouth. They had a pungent aroma, and 
I could taste the delicate salt flavor of my cunt. 

It was delicious. I wondered if his cock tasted as good. 

And then, he did something that surprised me. 

He lowered his head to my ass and started to lick all over it with his 
tongue. 

He was letting large blobs of his saliva coat my cheeks, and with his tongue 
he was spreading them evenly around. 

Thicker and thicker, until I could tell that my ass was soaking wet. I 
didn't know what the reason was, hut then, he slid his fingers back up into 
my cunt, and before I'd even gotten through reacting to that, he brought the 
paddle down onto my naked, wet ass cheeks. 

And then I realized why he'd wet me down. 

Of course ... to make the sting all the more sharp. It was just about the 
most painful thing I'd ever felt. But the way that he did it, the tender 
care that he was taking ... the gentle way that he touched me ... I started 
to come right then. It began with the first stroke, and I swear, it 
continued non-stop until he finally finished with me. 

He wiggled his fingers inside of me. 

I could feel them, could feel the intense ripples of pleasure that he was 
sending through my body with every motion. 

It was intense, it was almost excruciating, but it was delicious, just the 
same. 

I wanted it.. I wanted more, much more ... I didn't want it to stop. 

I felt my muscles all starting to react, blindly, madly going into spasm 
after spasm. 

I was screaming, moaning, groaning with total reckless abandon., nothing was 
stopping me. I knew that the sounds wouldn't carry ... and to be honest, I 
wouldn't have cared if they had ... I didn't even remember that the rest of 
the world existed out there. There was only me, my cunt, those wiggling 
fingers up inside it, and that delicious paddle, which my cheeks were 
stiffening in expectation of once more. 

He brought it down, harder this time, right across the center of my ass. 

Then, he lowered his head once more, and again he licked my buttocks, licked 
them till they were soaking wet. 

I waited. He stood. 

There was a moment when time seemed to stop. 

And then the fire raged anew. It was like lightning had torn through me. It 
was as if I was out on a dizzy peak of pleasure, balance ... yet nearly 
falling off . . 

And again! 

I was crying out in a constant stream of unbroken babble and gibberish now, 
completely past the point where I could control myself. 

He began to let the blows fall with more regular consistency now, again and 
again, focusing first on my left cheek, delivering perhaps ten or fifteen 
hard whacks to that fleshy mound, and then moving his attention to the right 
buttock, giving an equal number of strokes to that, only to return. He would 
never remain consistent either. 

He might alternate every single stroke for a few times, and then home in on 
one side or the other, and then he might actually start to spank my thighs, 
move back to my ass and then move back to my thighs again. 

It seemed like he was slapping me with amazing speed, but I guess he wasn't 
really. 

But the pain was so intense that I was losing my ability to comprehend what 
was happening to me. 

And in the steaming cauldron of my cunt his fingers were whipping up my 
juices to a sensual froth. 

I couldn't stop coming. My muscles were starting to hurt, from all the 
contractions, yet, wave after wave boiled up out of my cunt, my crotch, 
fueled and driven by the constant sharp pain in my buttocks. 

Again and again he brought the paddle down onto me, and again and again the 
orgasmic waves shook me. 

I don't know when, actually, he put his cock in me, but suddenly I was aware 
of a new pain ... one that was centered elsewhere than my buttocks ... one 
that seemed to be coming from the same place that my clit was still 
throbbing. I realized only then that this was the moment ... he was fucking 
me. He was sticking his cock into me. I spread my legs instinctively, trying 
to give him as much room as he needed, but there wasn't really any way for 
me to do it. I was just too narrow and tight, and it was going to hurt. 
There wasn't any way for me to avoid that. 

But by the time I was even able to focus on this, he's managed to stick it 
into me fairly deep, almost to the bottom of my pussy. 

I was shrieking now, writhing on his cock, rolling around on the desk, and 
trying to stick my ass up into the air, higher and higher, wanting to feel 
as much of that throbbing tool as I possibly could. 

He obliged me by sending it all the way to the bottom, stretching the head 
against the back wall of my pussy. 

I screamed this time, and it didn't stop. I couldn't stop. All I could do 
was to react, feel his cock moving in and out now, and come. Continue 
coming. Never stop coming. Coming without let-up. I felt like my body was 
melting, like my brain was burning to ashes ... like my cunt was being 
turned inside out. 

And then he started to spank my ass again, with his cock still inside me. 

My final orgasm was so intense, that I lost all sense of time and place for 
a while. 

It was a long, long time before I regained my orientation ... I could feel 
him slowly pulling his cock out of me, for the last time, and I had a stab 
of regret, infinite sadness that the moment was over ... that the timeless 
state that had been so delicious was now being handed back over to the 
clock, and I was once more in the real world. 

It had been a dream., a dream come true. I had never imagine; that my body 
could feel like that. I was just beginning to learn. 

CONCLUSION 

I was able to quite easily analyze Marigold's problem once she'd recounted 
his story to me. 

The problem was indeed complex, and deep-seated. The relationship between 
Marigold and her teacher continued for several months. That first encounter 
between them set the tone, although they were very careful not to allow 
themselves to be discovered. He was a bachelor, and so there was never any 
difficulties with using his apartment. It was there that she learned to 
equate spanking and orgasms in her mind. He was quite adept at administering 
both to her young, impressionable body 

She was the one who finally terminated ... . 

She was the one who finally terminated the relationship, after which she 
made every effort to erase the images from her mind. But they were too 
firmly etched there, and eventually, as happened with her and her husband, 
they reasserted themselves. 

Unfortunately, her husband hasn't the stomach or the inclination to provide 
her with the stimulation that she needs, and so, I fear I was forced to 
volunteer my own services ... after all, who would be better qualified to 
deal with sexual aberrations than one who has made it his life's work. She 
still comes to me, twice a week, and together, we work at trying to get her 
to transcend the base needs that were burned into her mind. My theory is 
that over-indulgence will eventually create a numb spot and effectively wipe 
out the need. With any luck, treatment should take a decade or more. 

 CASE HISTORY TWO 

SUBJECT: Judy R. AGE: Twenty-three 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Judy is a stranger case, far more so than Marigold, simply because her 
problem is so much more deeply rooted. She learned the joys of spanking when 
she was young, and her love of that sensation never left her. Now, she is 
trying to pick up the shattered pieces of her life ... as well as her body 
... but I'll let her tell the tale. And a truly harrowing and chilling tale 
it is, too. 

"God damn it, girl, don't you have any self-respect? Don't you care what 
other people think about you? Christ, how the hell are you ever going to get 
married? You don't think anybody's gonna want to marry a used piece of 
woman, do you. Shit, why buy a cow when the milk's free?" 

"And don't put off till tomorrow, what you can do today!" I shot back. Daddy 
stared at me, fuming, and then, as he usually did whenever I talked faster 
than he could think, he reached out, grabbed me by the shirt and slapped my 
face. 

It wasn't never a hard slap, or nothing like that, but it hurt all the same. 

"Don't you never talk back to me like that again, girl. What the hell 
happened to you? You was such a sweet little thing when you was younger. You 
was the prettiest little girl in town. Now look at you. All painted up like 
the Scarlet Whore of Babylon!! ! ! ! That's what you are. You're the Scarlet 
Whore!! ! ' 

"Daddy, you're getting all worked up over nothing." 

"Nothin'! ! Nothin', she says!! ! Christ on a broken crutch, girl, don't go 
telling me what nothing is. I know what nothing is. You had your tits out 
and he was playing with 'em. You telling me that's nothing? Oh, if your 
mother was alive today, she'd roll over in her grave." 

"Oh Daddy, why are you such a prude. 

These is modern times. Things change. People aren't the same as they used to 
be. It's all different now." 

"Yeah? You sure about that girl? Well, what the hell you gonna do when you 
let some boy get his dick up between your legs, and you get your sweet ass 
knocked up? You telling me that's different? No, darling, it ain't 
different. It's the same as it's always been. It's his cock, but it's your 
baby. You understand what I'm getting at? You telling me that's different?" 

"Daddy, I ain't gonna get knocked up." 

"Oh yeah ... you tell me this You still a virgin?" 

"Yeah ... sort of ... " 

"SORT OF!! ! " 

"Well, I don't know what you mean.'" 

"Damn your hide girl, you tell me what's gone and done this to that pretty 
little head of yours. Come on, you tell me. TELL ME!! ! " 

He grabbed me by my shirt again, so hard that it ripped the material. 

"Oh God, Daddy, please, don't hit me again. . " I said starting to cry. Then 
I looked down at my shirt. My left tit was hanging out of where he'd torn my 
shirt. 

I quick put my hand up over it, but Daddy slapped it away, just as fast. 

"Aw, fuck that shit, damn you ... what's the matter ... you don't mind 
showing 'em off to that sonofabitch who had you out there in his car, but 
you're ashamed to show 'em to your old man? Uh-unh. No, darling daughter of 
mine, it don't work that way I'm your daddy, and if I say show me your tits 
you'd damn well better show me your tits." 

"Daddy, this is sick. I think there's something wrong with you .. ... I 
really do. You ain't supposed to want to go looking at my tits!! " 

"And you ain't supposed to want to go showing 'em off for every hot buck 
comes wandering around with a stiff cock in his britches." 

I'd never heard him talk so dirty to me in my life ... which is how I knew 
that he was really upset with me. 

But I wasn't going to let it bother me. He'd just been drinking too much, 
and I could tell I just held my breath, and hoped that he'd be better by 
morning. 

But he still had a long way to go that night. I'd thought sure that he was 
going to off at the Grange Meeting till midnight, which is the way he 
ususally was on Friday night. 

So when Jamie Peters drove back up into the front yard of the house, and we 
sat there a while in the cab of his truck, I didn't think we were up against 
any kind of deadline or anything. I thought we had a lot of time. And 
privacy. Lord, little did I know. 

It had seemed to be perfectly natural when Jamie put his arm around me, and 
when he pulled me to him, I kissed him freely and normal and all ... we'd 
been kind of playing with each other a lot lately ... playing with each 
other meaning exactly what you'd think it was supposed to mean. 

I was no where near the whore and slut that Daddy thought I was ... but that 
didn't stop him from thinking it ... and to tell the truth, it didn't stop 
me from doing the few things that I did do ... and, I might add that I had 
fun doing. 

I'd taken Jamie's cock out of his pants a whole bunch of times ... and I'd 
beaten on it till it shot all that jism all over me ... and I'd taken it 
into my mouth and sucked on it till it did the same thing and I swallowed 
the whole load. 

And I'd taken my shirt off and let him suck on my titties. They felt so good 
to suck on, and I just loved feeling his mouth all over me, sucking hard on 
me, and I just couldn't see anything wrong with it. Nothing at all. There 
wasn't anything wrong with it ... not even when Jamie slid his hands down my 
pants, and slipped his fingers up through my wet slit and started to tickle 
my funny button ... Lord, there damn sure wasn't anything wrong with that. 

But to hear Pa say it, I was the lowest, scummiest whore in creation. That 
made me feel real bad too. 

But it wasn't as bad as I'd felt when he suddenly turned his flashlight on 
Jamie and me, and caught him with his lips on one tittie, and his hand on 
the other one. 

We hadn't been back very long, so thank God I hadn't quite gotten around to 
opening up my pants and letting him play around with my cunt yet, nor had I 
gotten a hold of his cock, though that's the very next thing that I'd had in 
mind. 

But what he found us doing was bad enough, I guess. 

"You two get out of there, right now. Come on, move." 

Jamie, unfortunate, wet his pants right there. 

I was sort of sitting on his lap, you know, and so it was pretty obvious to 
me that he'd gone and lost it all in his pants. 

But hell, Daddy had a shotgun in his hand, and everyone knew that he was one 
of the best shots in the county with it, and so I guess if I'd been Jamie, 
I'd have pissed in my pants too. But I don't know what he was worrying 
about. Even if Daddy had shot him, he'd have killed him right off. Me, I had 
to live with him and you aren't talking about any slower, more painful 
torture, let me tell you. 

But, he didn't shoot Jamie, though he let it be known that he'd give it 
serious consideration if he ever saw him again, anywhere in the county. 

Jamie said "Yessir" a lot and "Nosir" and "Whatever you say, sir" and then, 
he screeched off, and I didn't think I'd ever see him again. 

Then, Daddy had dragged me into the house, and started to yell at me. 

"Look Daddy," I finally said, feeling real weird with my left tit hanging 
out, and him not letting me cover it up or anything, "what do you want from 
me? I don't understand." 

"I want you to shut your fucking, slutty mouth." 

I started to cry, but he just laughed. 

"Don't go crying to me, slut! I don't want to hear it. You like showing off 
your body, you like boys playing with your titties, you're going to get the 
chance. Right now." 

He reached up and grabbed my shirt again, this time finishing the job of 
ripping it open. 

My tits bobbed up and down from the force that he'd pulled with. 

I felt him staring at them, and it made me feel pretty funny. 

"Take off them shorts too." 

"No Daddy, no ... please ... " 

He got a real twisted look on his face, and then, to my horror, he pulled 
back the hammer of his shotgun. I heard it click. He leveled the barrel at 
my cunt. 

"You step out of them things right now or I swear to God, I'll blast the 
fuckers off you, and I don't promise not to hit anything else." 

I started to shake. That gun was loaded. It was always loaded. But now, it 
was cocked and ready. He could kill me. Easily Drunk as he was, he could 
pull the trigger and never even know it. 

"Daddy, please, be careful with that thing. Please ... please ... " 

"Just you get out of them tiny little things. You're gonna give your daddy a 
show now ... you hear?" 

I quickly dropped my shorts, and Daddy pointed to the chair. "Sit." I 
quickly sat. 

"Put your legs up Come on, put your legs up on the arm rests." 

I was feeling weirder and weirder. "Daddy, this is sick." 

He pulled back the other hammer. It too clicked. "What did you say?" 

I put my feet up on the arms of the chair. My pussy was spread wide before 
him. 

He stepped close, staring hard at it. 

Then, he lowered the barrel of his shotgun, right at my slit. "Daddy ... 
pleassssse. . ' I cried, but he didn't pay any attention. 

He touched my pussy lips with his gun. 

"D-d-daddy ... y-you can't d-do th-this," I said, stuttering now. 

"I'll show you exactly what I can do, girl." 

He started to press against my pussy, pushing that cold steel right up into 
my hole. It took him a while, but I could feel my hole opening, stretching, 
wider and wider, hurting all the while, especially the small protruding 
eyesight that was at the very tip., but he pushed that thing up into my 
cunt. 

"Oh Daddy stop ... don't ... please don't ... don't kill me ... please, 
don't kill me." 

He was staring at me kind of weird-like, and I noticed that his eyes weren't 
quite focusing right ... sort of like one eye was crazy, and the other one 
was looking at it. 

And then, he got a kind of twisted grin on his face, real twisted, and I 
watched, and I waited, and then., he pulled the trigger. 

I screamed., and heard 'CLICK!' 'CLICK!' as both hammers fell on empty 
barrels. 

"Now don't let me ever catch you doing something like that again," he said 
to me, "and get your ass to your room, and you stay there for the whole 
weekend, you hear?" 

I was a simpering, whimpering mass of quivering flesh by this time, and I 
quickly gathered up my clothes and ran to my room. I didn't want to wait 
around to get into any more arguments with him. 

But when I got there, I fell onto my bed, and everything just sort of 
started spinning around inside my head. I didn't know what I was doing, or 
where I was or who I was or anything. But I kept thinking about that shotgun 
up my cunt.. and I thought about the way Daddy had been staring at my tits 
... and about the way that Jamie's lips had felt sucking on my tits. . 

God, I couldn't explain it, but I damn sure was feeling ripe ... hot, sticky 
and juicy. 

There was the feeling inside me of fullness ... a feeling that I was just 
going to pop, if I didn't get some kind of relief. 

The first thing I did was to take a long shower, thinking that maybe I could 
wash the feeling off me. 

It didn't work. 

I pulled a tee shirt on, and put a clean pair of panties on, and fell back 
on my bed, wondering what I was going to do. 

I knew, really, what I was going to do. I guess I'd always known ... because 
I had been doing it for so long. 

I went to my drawer, and opened it. I dug down beneath the clothes that were 
folded there. 

I felt it. It was hard, and it was waiting for me. 

I remembered when my friend Melissa had given it to me. 

"I got it from my sister, and I swear, if my Momma found me with it, she'd 
have me shot on sight." 

I'd taken it, and felt foolish, but that didn't stop me from trying it out. 

Melissa's sister was off at college, and I guessed that's what college girls 
did all the time. Sit around in their dorm rooms and play with vibrators. 

It was fun, too ... it vibrated, it rotated, and there were five different 
attachments that you could use. . 

And best of all, it was real silent. I made no noise at all. I'd used it 
once with Daddy right in the next room. He never knew a thing. 

I was going to use it now. 

I felt my fingers trembling as I hooked up the attachment. I didn't feel 
like getting reamed out or filled up ... I just wanted a real sharp feeling 
on my clitoris, so I put on a thing that was made of rubber, and simply came 
to a sharp point. 

It vibrated real fast, and hard, and the point focused the sensations right 
onto the clit. 

I'm telling you, it was pretty intense ... and really hot. 

Then, I reached underneath my mattress and pulled out my magazines ... 

I know, it's a little weird for girls to have dirty pictures, but I liked to 
look at them ... and besides, these weren't just 'dirty' pictures., these 
were super dirty pictures . pictures of hard throbbing cocks as well as 
cunts., pictures of girls with their legs spread wide open, and getting 
their guts fucked out, with hard cocks spreading them wide open. 

I loved looking at those cocks, those fucked cunts ... I loved looking at 
pussy lips with drops of jism hanging off of them ... I loved looking at 
people fucking ... and these pictures were taken with good, sharp, close-up 
photography ... they were really great, let me tell you. 

It didn't take much after that. 

I lay down on the bed, and turned on the vibrator, and then, I opened the 
first magazine, and touched that sharp rubber point to my clit. And the back 
of my head shot off 

The thing was humming softly, but really, it was all in my head ... the 
feeling I mean, because there really wasn't any sound at all. I was just 
feeling the energy shooting through my nerves ... and let me tell you, it 
was shooting like a fucking meteor shower ... I felt like there were 
explosions going off all through my body ... sort of like Iwo Jima must have 
felt just before the marines started to wade ashore. 

And I wasn't even playing with it very hard. I just needed to feel ... feel 
that sensation that was already starting to build inside my thighs. . 

I knew that my juice was already starting to flow like thick cream, oozing 
slowly and sensuously out of my lips, covering the rubber tip of the 
vibrator, and the inside of my thighs, and my fingers and my pubic hair as 
well. 

I was starting to feel really like I was on fire. 

I pressed the tip against my clit even harder, pressed it so hard now I 
could feel the bud of nerves twisting out of shape. 

I let it move around my lips, gently caressing the outer membranes at the 
rim of my cunt hole ... then I started to rub it over the top part of my 
inner lips, right beneath the tip of my clit. That's one of the most 
sensitive spots on my whole body, and I think that if someone ever tied me 
down and held that tip to me right there, and forced me to just keep taking 
it, I'd go out of my mind. I really would. I know I couldn't take it for 
very long. 

It's the most intense feeling that I can imagine. You know, sometimes when I 
get my clit stimulated directly, it's so intense, so incredibly sensitive, 
that I really start to get uncomfortable. I mean, can something feel so good 
that it hurts? Well, that's how my clit feels. 

But right down there, beneath the tip, it's more of an indirect feeling, the 
vibrations keep working on me, all right, but they're sort of muted, you 
know ... running through the rest of my cunt membranes, it just sort of set 
all of me on fire, instead of focusing right on my clit. 

Well, to make a long story short, I was getting real hot. 

The heat from my cunt was starting to melt my brain ... at least that part 
of it that usually is able to do a reasonable job of thinking clearly, and 
keeping me from doing something stupid. 

Well ... this time, it didn't. 

I had all those pictures spread around me on the bed ... pictures of cocks 
in cunts, close-up shots of dripping wet pussy lips, thick wads of jism 
coating kinky mats of tangled pubic hair, and beautiful heads of cocks, all 
swollen and purple colored. . 

They were beautiful people too ... really gorgeous ... women with large, 
perfectly rounded breasts with not a hit of sag ... no wrinkles ... men with 
magnificant bodies, to say nothing of huge cocks ... 

In short, a fantasy paradise ... 

I pressed that vibrator harder and harder against my pussy, pressing it 
right up inside me now, pressing it harder, harder and harder, until 
finally, I guess I started to moan or something. 

Well, fuck it, I wasn't moaning, really, I was kind of screaming. 

I mean, what do you expect? I was rolling around on the bed like I was 
taking an epileptic fit. My muscles were working like there was a different 
mind somewhere that was controlling them, not my own. 

I was breathing now in short, choppy gasps, sucking in my breath, letting it 
out in massive bursts, then drawing in more. . 

And I was screaming ... loudly now, moaning like I was really in pain. 

I didn't hear the doorknob open. I just know that all of a sudden, there was 
a sound that at the very first (me being in the kind of dream state that I 
was in) sounded to me like a wounded bull. 'Where's the bull come from?' I 
remember myself thinking and then there was a lot of commotion, and I felt 
the bedsprings sag, I heard another noise, and slowly (I mean, I was pretty 
worked up . you could have set off a bomb outside my window and I wouldn't 
have reacted right away), I looked up and realized that there was someone 
else in the room with me. And it didn't take too much longer after that for 
me to figure out that since there was only two of us living under the same 
roof, it really couldn't have been anyone other than- 

"Daddy!! ! ! " I cried. 

"What in the name of thunderation is all this garbage?" he bellowed, staring 
at the opened magazine in pure disbelief. 

He picked one up. As he quickly turned the pages, I could see the title, 
"WET SLIT" and knew that it was living up to its name. 

He just shook his head in disbelief. "Oh Lordy ... Lordy ... Lordy ... " was 
all he seemed to be able to say. 

"Daddy ... " I began tentatively. 

"You shut your Satan-infested mouth, you hear me. Christ! It's bad enough I 
find out that my daughter's a whore ... but now I find that she's depraved 
and demented and perverted and all manner of sicknesses. Oh this is a black 
day for this house." 

"Daddy ... it's not what you think--! " 

"Tell me what I think!! ! Go on, slut!! ! You tell me what I think. I want 
to see what the fuck's going on in your mind. Go on ... what do I think?" 

"You think ... well it's obvious that you think there's something wrong with 
me just because-" 

"Just because you're doing something that horrible and disgusting and 
degrading, to say nothing of humiliating. My God, how am I ever going to 
hold up my head in church now?" 

"You ain't been to church in years." 

"Exactly. This is God's punishment He done let Satan get his grip on your 
poor virginal soul If you're even a virgin any more, which I'm finding 
highly unlikely You worthless slut!" 

He picked up my vibrator. 

"The playthings of Satan!! !-' he yelled furiously. "Yours is the shame, 
mine is the punishment!! " 

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I could tell that he was past 
thinking. 

He looked down at my cunt, and I saw him staring wide-eyed, his mouth sort 
of hanging open ... 

"I ain't never seen nothing like this " he mumbled. 

I was already getting an idea of that, just from the way that he was getting 
hard in his crotch. 

I could see his cock sticking out real far in his pants ... and I thought 
about what he'd done before to me, and realized that he must be getting 
really hot now. 

He looked down at me. 

"Daughter ... this here stuff is the work of the Devil ... I swear, I can 
see his hand prints all over your body. You're going to have to be purges of 
this evil influence. I can see no other course, but that I shall have to do 
the Lord's work and drive the evil one from your soul, and force him to 
release you from this death grip he has around your heart." 

He was talking in kind of a weird voice now, and I was starting to wonder if 
his brain was really all there ... 

He threw the vibrator back onto the bed, and reached down, grabbing my 
roughly by my shoulders, and threw me over his knee. 

"No, Daddy, please, no, please ... please ... please.. " 

Remember now I was hotter than a skillet on a full flame myself, and I was 
sizzling inside like bacon frying in the pan. He'd stopped me just as I was 
starting to build up to a really good come, and so, the whole time that he'd 
been talking to me, I kept having this really bad itch inside my cunt. 

He pressed me down into his lap, and the first thing I felt was that hard 
old cock of his pressing up into me. I mean, he'd thrown me right over his 
lap, and my cunt was directly over the hard tip. I could feel it pressing up 
against my clit. 

"You're gonna thank me for this some day, daughter," I heard him say, and 
then he brought the flat of his palm right onto my right buttock. 

God, did that ever sting! 

He immediately slapped me again, this time on my left cheek. Then, he 
stopped a second, because instead of crying, I was just sort of wiggling on 
him. I'm telling you, I was hot, really hot, and the added sensation of 
feeling him hitting me, and feeling his hard cock pressing up against my 
cunt, even though it was still inside his jeans, was driving me right out of 
my mind. 

I was afraid that I was going to come, right there, lying across his lap, 
and I didn't want to do that, but I knew that if I started up, I wasn't 
going to do a damn thing to stop. No way. 

He started to hit me real hard now, always on my ass, always with his flat 
open palm, always moving from one cheek to the other, moving all over them 
so that there wasn't a single part of my ass that wasn't stinging and 
burning like it was on fire. It seemed to go on forever. 

I was crying now, still writhing beneath his hand, and though I was still 
hot, and getting hotter all the time, I was also hurting. I mean, that 
bastard was hitting me just as hard as he could. 

He was muttering things to me, under his breath, sort like a demented 
counterpoint to the rhythm of his hard slaps. 

". . .teach you.. little slut ... never do this again ... bitch ... bitch.. 
cunt ... hot little whore ... "' 

You know, things like that. 

I was starting to move my hips now. in time with his slaps. 

Up, to meet his palm, then down to ram my pussy against his cock. 

I didn't even realize at first that's what I was doing, but then, neither 
did Daddy. He was just kind of acting reflexively now, I suppose, because I 
could feel his cock pressing up against me as well. 

WHAM-WHAM WHAM!! ! 

And at the same time, with every single slap, he rammed his cock up at my 
pussy. 

Pretty soon, it was like we was dry humping ... except that he was the only 
one who was still dry. 

I was running like a leaky faucet by this time, and I could feel a heat 
inside my cunt that was threatening to blow me away. 

Hotter and hotter.harder and harder., faster and faster ... 

He seemed to be trying to tear my ass up. 

He just kept on pounding on me, again and again, and again, and then, 
finally, it happened. I started to come. 

"Oh my God ... my God, my God ... Yesssssss!! ' I said, gritting my teeth, 
tightening the muscles in my ass, raising up off his cock a moment, and 
feeling my whole body go rigid. 

He seemed to be a little surprised. 

I was gasping, moan "Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes" again and again, and then, 
just as soon as the first wave subsided, I let my pussy slam back down onto 
his cock, rubbing the clit over his zipper, pressing it against that 
hardened slap of cock meat that was throbbing inside his pants. 

He yelled, "Oh no you don't. Not like this No way!! " 

I guess he had an idea what was happening to my body, but I was sure 
surprised by what he decided to do about it. 

He picked me up and threw me down onto the bed, spread my legs apart and 
then, I hear the sudden sound of his zipper coming down. 

"You want it honey ... well get ready, because you're going to get it from 
the one who knows you best. Your Daddy." 

He literally fell on me. 

"Oh, Daddy" I said, at first protesting ... but I have to be honest. I was 
so hot by that time, my cunt was so wet, and the membranes were so swollen, 
and crying out so bad for some kind of stimulation, it didn't take long 
before I was saying "Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes" again. 

I really don't know what was going through his head, or what he thought was 
happening to me. 

He just started to ram that thing up inside me, slamming the head against my 
lips and starting to shove with his hips. 

It's a good thing I was already as hot as I was, and as wet; because he 
didn't waste any time, and if I'd been dry, it would have really hurt. 

But there wasn't anything else for me to do. His cock was right there, and 
he just started to shove it into me, ramming it harder and harder and harder 
... 

I felt the large head inching past the tight rim of my pussy hole. 

He wasn't trying to go slow or anything, but I was so tight, that he didn't 
really have any choice. 

He shoved just as hard as he could, pounding that thick piece of meat 
against my swollen membranes ... harder, harder ... ruthlessly. 

'I feel you, girl," he gasped at last.. "I feel the heat of the Devil in 
you. We gonna fuck him right out of you. I'm going to fuck the Devil out of 
you." 

And with that, he slammed one last time, slammed right against my lips, and 
I could feel the large sack of his balls, suddenly down there, slapping 
gently against the crack of my ass. 

And then, he started to fuck. 

And I'm telling you, that was the first time I'd ever had a cock up me, and 
there hasn't been one since that's give me a ride that was quite like that 
one. 

He didn't have any technique, at all. 

I mean, I kind of had the feeling that he'd never really fucked a woman who 
enjoyed it and knew how to ask for what she wanted. 

He just started to plunge it in and out of me, moving at top speed, fast as 
he could, hard as he could, not trying to let up at all,. 

I thought he was going to split me wide open. I thought he was going to rip 
me in half. 

In and out! In and out! 

"Oh Daddy ... Daddy, Daddy ... I can't believe it. You feel so good. So 
damned good. So fucking damn good." 

In and out, in and out. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. 

Each stroke of that massive piece of meat, digging further into me, 
stretching my tight membranes wider and wider ... 

I was slamming my hips back at him now, meeting his cock thrust for thrust, 
our hips slapping together with loud cracks, in perfect rhythmic unison. 

Again and again and again and again, stroke after stroke, thrust after 
thrust, each one driving me further and further into madness and insanity. I 
mean, you realize what I'm saying, right? My Daddy was raping me, and I was 
really getting off on it. Now, is that sick, or what? And for that matter, 
who's sicker., him or me? 

All I know is that at the time that it was going on, I felt better than I'd 
ever felt in my entire life. 

And when I finally came, I remember my body going crazy, I remember sparks, 
I saw lights, colors, heard bells, buzzers, sirens ... 

The troops came home, the marines landed, the home team won ... I don't know 
... it was like every party and celebration and holiday that I'd ever been 
through all rolled up into one. 

I didn't know if Daddy came because I was too mixed up in feeling my own 
body coming. 

But just as soon as we were still, and I was able to start thinking again, I 
thought that he must have come, because his cock wasn't anywhere near as 
stiff as it had been. 

And if my cunt had been wet before, it was even wetter now There was a 
really thick, heavy goo oozing from it, and I knew that my Daddy's sperm was 
inside of me now. 

It felt good. It felt hot. 

It felt like the most perfect thing in the world. 

It felt right. 

But I also knew that it was strange. And I didn't know what to do about 
that. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

Judy told me much else about her bizarre relationship with her father. It 
didn't take either one of them too long to realize that the one thing that 
had resulted in their intense arousal was the fact that he'd spanked her. 

She found herself fantasizing about it, thinking more and more about that 
feeling of pain that gave over to pleasure. 

She began to provoke him, hoping to force him to spank her, and it worked 
... but finally, they dispensed with the pretense altogether, and simply 
developed spanking as a ritual in itself. Sometimes he would have sex with 
her afterward, sometimes he would simply spank her and watch her masturbate, 
while he himself masturbated. 

But whatever form the ritual seemed to take, there was one, indelible 
result. 

In Judy's mind, an invulnerable bond was forged between the sensation of 
pleasure and the sensation of pain. So much so, that one became impossible 
without the other. 

Until she left home and went away to college, the only orgasms that her 
young body had experienced had been on conjunction with spanking. 

This produced some rather unfortunate situations, when she began dating, 
trying to lead the normal life of a student. 

But I'll let her tell the tale. 

"Wow, you're sure a lot more liberal than I am," said Mary June. She was my 
new roommate. 

"Why?" I asked. "Just because I'm not a virgin?" 

"Sure. I mean, I've kind of done everything else ... you know ... but I 
never really got around to the big one." 

"It's nothing, really. Way over rated," I said, sounding like I knew it all, 
like I'd seen it all, and like there weren't any surprises left for me. I 
didn't quite get around to telling her that for the past four years, the 
only experience that I'd had was with my Daddy. I had a feel that would have 
been a little too liberal. 

I didn't get the feeling that she'd have had the faintest idea how to deal 
with that. 

So, I just kind of kept my comments vague, sounding like I knew what I was 
talking about but that she'd have to find out on her own, if she really 
wanted to know what it was like. 

"Did it hurt ... you know, the first time you did it'? " 

I laughed. 

"Yeah ... I guess so. I mean, you know they get big. They swell up." 

"I know ... I used to give my boyfriend hand jobs." 

"Oh., so ... well look, why didn't you just go all the way then, if you were 
that far along? Did you ever suck him off?" 

She nodded. 

"Swallow it all?" 

She blushed, but nodded again. 

"There you go. There's not a whole lot of difference. I mean, you want my 
opinion, after that, you're not a virgin anyway. So why deprive yourself of 
the joys of being deflowered, since you really are anyway?" 

Well, that got her to thinking real hard, and then she said "So what are you 
saying? Would you suggest that I start fucking right away?" 

I laughed. "Look, Mary June, you have to figure that one out yourself. I 
mean, it all depends on the guy, and why you're fucking him " 

"What's a good reason, in your opinion, I mean." 

"For one thing, if you're hot for him. You ever been hot? Between your legs. 
You ever just want to feel yourself run straight through?" 

She blushed. "Well sometimes Johnnie would stick his fingers up me. . " 

"There you go. Cocks are the same, only better. Lots better. And then, maybe 
you'd do it with a guy because you loved him. That's always a good reason, 
but you have to watch out for it, because if you do, and you start fucking, 
a lot of times he won't, but he'll say he does just to keep you fucking." 

"Did you love the first guy you did it with?" 

I chuckled, wryly. "Let's just say we were very close." 

Close indeed. How the hell could I have ever told her the truth, I wondered. 
It would fry her brain. She wouldn't be able to deal with it at all. 

Neither could I, really. Only I didn't know it yet 

But my Daddy had set me in a direction that I didn't seem like I'd be able 
to shift away from. 

I kept thinking about him. My first date, I couldn't get my Daddy out of my 
mind. Maybe that's why the guy was such a monster. 

He looked a little bit like my Daddy ... a lot younger of course, but he was 
big ... real big. Shoulders wide as a river, and a cock the size of a Dodge 
pick-up truck. 

I could tell that the minute that I walked out of the elevator in the lobby 
of my dorm and saw him standing there. 

He was wearing real tight slacks, and they showed off just about everything 
that he had. I could see the outline of his cock, the slight bulge that his 
balls made behind it, and I even thought, the couple of times that I stole 
glanced down at the bulge, that I could make out the shape of his two balls. 

He wasn't too smart either, which also reminded me of Daddy. 

His name was Bob, I think, and he was in my English class. 

"So, what do you do," I asked him as we were walking across campus. I was 
trying to make small talk, just trying to be conversational, you know., but 
I was already thinking about getting that cock in me. I was hot, I'll admit 
it. Daddy had given me a healthy sexual appetite, even if the way that 
satisfied that appetite might not have been all that healthy. 

"I'm on an athletic scholarship," he said. 

"Really? Football?" 

"Yeah. I'm a defensive tackle." 

"I believe it. You're big enough to be the entire front line." 

"Yeah. I know " He said it seriously. 

I didn't take me too long to figure out that he didn't have much upstairs. 

Well, that would be fine, I thought. Brains could get in the way, if fucking 
was what was to be desired. That's something that I'd picked up from the 
magazines that I read. Sometimes, if all you wanted was a good straight 
fuck, the sensitive, intelligent guy is the worst bet. He'll spend too much 
time wondering if he should treat you like that, when all you want him to do 
is rip your clothes off and fuck you. 

I didn't think that Bob would have any serious existential questions about 
anything regarding sex 

I was right. After the movie, he asked me back to his room. 

"Don't you have a roommate?" 

"Nah. Not tonight. I told him to get lost." 

"You're kidding. Where'd he go?" 

"Beats me. But I told him that if he showed up tonight, I'd break his 
bones." 

"That doesn't sound very nice to me." 

"So?" 

I laughed. "You sound like you don't worry too much about philosophy.' 

"What does that mean?" 

"See? My point exactly. Some men spend all their time thinking, some men 
just go out and do things." 

"Oh. I get it. So let's go do it." 

I laughed again, and sort of slipped my arm around his. My cunt was tingling 
I happened to glance down at him, and I could see that he cock was hard and 
throbbing. 

"You must be real glad to be with me," I said to him, "or are you just 
carrying around a cucumber in your pocket." 

"You'll see what I'm carrying around." 

We got up to his room, he locked the door, then he grabbed my arm and pulled 
me to him. 

"Ooooo," I cooed, "you don't waste any time, do you?" 

"Not when there's so much more important things to get down to. ' 

I didn't bother to tell him that his syntax was a little fractured ... like 
I said, who needed to talk when you could fuck. 

But then, all at once, I realized that I was getting ready to fuck someone 
totally new ... in a way, it was almost like losing my virginity. Daddy and 
I had developed such a strong bond, we didn't even need to talk about it any 
more. 

We just had to kind of sense each other's needs, and just sort of knew when 
it was time. 

It seemed like it was always time, too. I mean, we were going at it every 
day. 

So, while my body was screaming "FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME", my brain was say 
"Now hold on there, let's check this dude out a little better." 

But Bob wasn't, was waiting to be checked out, or for anything else, as far 
as that goes. 

He just started to paw me all over my body. 

I felt weird. I felt like I was being touched by someone from another 
planet. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. 

Nothing felt right. 

The itch in my cunt stayed as fierce and intense as it always was, but even 
after he started to rub his hand (read, paw) against it, I felt like I still 
needed someone to make the itch go away. It's like he was doing things that 
should have been right. But they weren't. Strange. But I was too horny to 
worry about it ... I needed to be fucked, and I needed it badly. 

So when he started to take my clothes off, I helped him right along, and 
that kind of surprised him. 

"You don't need any encouragement, do you?" 

"Not really. Do you want to fuck, or do you want to talk?" 

He laughed stepped out of his pants, pulled down his shorts, and I found 
myself staring at a cock so big it should have been taxed. 

"You must have had a twin that didn't develop. 

"You must have had a twin that didn't develop," I said. "But you got his 
cock along with your own." 

He thought that was pretty funny too, and then he just picked me up, threw 
me onto the bed, fell on top of me and started to shove his cock into me. 

Now, Daddy wasn't too much on foreplay either ... I don't think Daddy even 
knew what it was. But we Daddy, there was plenty to get me hot anyway ... 
yet, somehow, I didn't realized that that's what was so much fun about doing 
it with Daddy. Spanking was something that I'd just sort of taken for 
granted ... it was something that happened and something that I liked, but 
it wasn't anything that had anything to do with anything else. 

I learned quickly that night. 

When I felt his cock ramming up into me, it felt good, all right, but it 
didn't feel like I wanted it to feel. 

It didn't feel like I needed it to feel. It felt kind of like it was ramming 
up into a piece of raw liver. 

What was wrong with my cunt, I wondered. My clit was itching like crazy ... 
I knew I was hot and horny, but it was almost as if he was fucking some 
other cunt ... not my own. 

I couldn't understand it, until slowly, I began to get images of Daddy ... 
standing over me, belt in his hand, or just using the palm of his hand ... 
spanking me, turning my ass red ... 

As soon as I had that image, I felt my clit start to really throb. 

Could that be it, I wondered. Could it really be what I needed ... to be 
spanked ... to feel pain ... did I need that? 

In and out went Bob's cock, pounding on me, harder and harder. 

It was a great cock, too. Big, round, thick ... long ... God, how long!! ! 
But it wasn't enough. 

I wrapped my legs around the small of his back, and slowly coaxed him into 
lying on his side, and fucking me that way. 

At the same time, I gently took his hand, moved it to my ass, and left it 
there. 

He grabbed a handful of my flesh and squeezed it, but I need more. A lot 
more. 

"Hit me," I whispered. 

He stopped. 

"God, don't stop," I said, hoarsely, "I didn't mean for you to stop." 

He started up again, but there was a slower pace to his movements now, an 
uncertainty that hadn't been there before. 

"Please," I said again. "Just a couple of times. Hit me. Spank me." 

He looked at me real strange. I felt his cock moving inside me, felt him 
trying to keep his pace steady, but I could tell that I'd freaked him out. 

"What do you want me to do, hurt you?" he asked. He was sounding a little 
frightened. 

"No ... not really," I said, feeling him i slowing down again. "Don't stop." 
He started up again, but there was really something wrong with him now His 
cock wasn't as stiff as it had been. 

"What's wrong," I asked. 

"N-nothing ... I mean ... nothing's wrong. Why do you ask." 

"Well, you're losing your--" 

"I am not!! ! ! I do NOT lose anything when I fuck," he shouted, sounding 
desperate now. 

No, no, I thought to myself. Please, don't. Don't. I wanted more, but I was 
certainly not looking for him to lose what he was already giving me. 

But that's exactly what happened. 

I could feel that massive cock steadily, inevitably shrinking back ... back 
... softer, softer ... 

And then, he started to get pissed. 

"CHRIST!! ! What the fuck's the matter with you? Don't you know better than 
to do something like that?" 

"like what?" I cried. "What did I do? I just asked you to spank me a 
little." 

"Yeah," he said, waving off in the distance, as if he was making some kind 
of point. "That's what I mean. Christ, we were fucking, you know we were 
fucking, and it was great, and all of a sudden you ask me to do something 
perverted like that ... I mean, it's terrible ... you know ... it's really a 
shitty thing to do to someone." 

"Why is that so perverted. I thought you'd get off on it." 

"Yeah, well . . " he said, sounding more and more uncomfortable. 

"Look, I'm sorry," I said, "I mean, I really didn't want to fuck things up. 
It seemed like a simple request." 

"Yeah, well maybe. But I mean, it's a little weird, you know what I mean?" 

"No, I don't think I do. I really don't think I do know what you mean. 
You're just too fucking uptight to cope with a girl asking for what she 
wants. You're living in the past Girls don't have to just lie there and take 
whatever they're given. They can have needs too, you know. And it's not so 
perverted, either. You're just too hung up to cope." 

"Bullshit--! " he shouted, and I could see things were going to go nowhere, 
so I Just put my clothes on and left. He didn't try to stop me either. 

I wasn't pissed at him, but I was really disappointed. It seemed real 
strange to me that he'd have been so uptight about something like that. I 
started to think that maybe what I'd gotten used to with Daddy wasn't all 
that normal after all. I'd never really thought about it, really. 

So, I decided that if I wanted to get laid, I was going to have to keep my 
strange desires to myself, at least until I met a guy that I'd be able to 
get close enough to, so that he wouldn't be freaked out by me. 

Trouble was, I never found any guy enjoyable enough to keep seeing him until 
we could get close. 

Fucking, by itself, never really left me satisfied. 

I needed more. 

Lot's more. 

And it was starting to frighten me, because I was beginning to see myself as 
pretty twisted and weird. Abnormal you know. I mean, there didn't seem to be 
anyone else like me. 

Guys all talked a lot about it, and whenever I'd started talking to someone 
about fetishes, and strange behavior, they'd all talk like they'd be really 
open to trying kinky stuff, but none of them would ever follow through. They 
all just were a lot of words. 

One evening, Mary June said to me, "You've been looking really depressed 
lately. What's wrong?" 

"Oh ... nothing, really." 

"Aw, come on, you can tell me." 

"No, seriously, there's nothing wrong." 

"Well, that's bullshit, but if you don't want to tell me, it's all right. I 
just want you to know that I can tell there's something wrong with you, and 
if there's anything I can do, you can talk to me about it. ' 

I looked at her for a moment in silence. She'd changed a lot since I'd first 
met her. She was dating a lot of guys and most of the time, she'd stay out 
all night. 

"It's my love life." 

"What do you mean," she asked, incredulously. "You go out all the time." 

"I know ... but it's just no good. It really isn't ... and I don't ... know 
what to do about it." 

"What's the problem." 

"Oh ... I ... oh, I don't know. Really I don't. I just don't seem to get 
anything out of it ... " 

"I know what you mean." 

"You do?" 

"Yeah ... I'm really kind of turned off by guys." 

"I find that hard to believe," I said. "You go out as much as I do." 

"And I enjoy myself about as much as you do too." 

"What do you think the problem is." 

"Maybe it's men." 

"Do you think so?" 

"It's sure a possibility." 

I had never heard her talking this way and for some strange reason, I felt 
myself starting to get turned on by her words. 

"I'm not sure if that's really all my trouble or not," I told her. 

"Why?" 

"Well . " 

Should I tell her or not. That was my predicament. I didn't want to freak 
her out, and I knew that she'd really think I was weird if I told her about 
me and Daddy. 

But, maybe she'd be able to handle a part of the story ... 

"I'm starting to think that I'm not normal," I said finally. 

"Tell me about it," she said, sounding interested at once. 

"Well, it's. I kind of have this twisted thing.. I, sort of., gosh, this is 
weird to talk about." 

"Well, if you're too uncomfortable, you don't have to." 

"No, it's not that I'm uncomfortable ... well, yeah, I guess it is. But 
that's okay ... I think I really need to talk about this." 

"Okay. I'm a good listener." 

"I know. I appreciate it." Then, I took a deep breath and just came right 
out and asked her, "Have you ever been spanked." 

She laughed, a little puzzled. "Sure, when I was a kid." 

"No, that's not what I'm talking about ... I mean ... like, before you 
fuck." 

"You mean, like getting turned on by it." 

"Yeah, sort of." 

"Wow ... no. Is that where you're at?" I shrugged my shoulders, trying to 
make light of it. 

"You know ... kind of ... a little ... maybe." She laughed. 

"That sounds like some pretty serious equivocation there." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Okay, sure. I'm into it. I kind of get off on 
it. I really do." 

"So, you mean to tell me that you can't find a guy out there who'd get off 
on spanking you." 

"Sure. That's the trouble. They all get off on it. To talk about it. To 
think about it. But none of them have it together enough to really act on 
it. As soon as I bring it up, they get all self-conscious, and they lose 
their hard-ons, and then they start acting weird, and it's a disaster. And 
if I keep my mouth shut it just makes me feel unsatisfied. I'm telling you, 
Mary June, I'm going out of my mind. I need something, and I need it fast, 
and I don't even quite know what it is." 

She was studying me real hard. 

"You know.. I've got kind of a problem too. 

"What's that?" I asked, noting the shift in her expression. She was no 
longer just listening to me. That was a kind of cat-like curiosity on her 
face ... almost a look of yearning. 

"Well ... I'm not sure I like guys ... at all." 

My eyes grew wide. "Really?" 

"Yeah ... kind of. I mean, they're okay ... and I get off on them sometimes 
... but I think of ... well ... other things a lot." 

"What other things," I asked, softly. 

"Women ... " she said, hesitantly, and even softer than me. 

We sat there for a long time, the silence between us becoming more and more 
significant as it lengthened. 

We were staring straight at each other, and neither one of us pulled our 
eyes away. 

Finally, Mary June said "Would you like to be spanked?" 

My cunt went crazy. I felt my nipples get hard. 

"I don't have a cock," she said, "but from what you've been telling me, 
cocks don't do all that much for you anyway." 

"Well., they do if I., if I get spanked first." 

"Yeah ... but if that's the case, maybe the spanking is what counts ... 
maybe you'd get just as hot from a woman ... if she did it right." 

I was feeling like I was in the middle of an extremely bizarre situation 
"You really want to ... " 

She nodded. "Yeah. Kind of. Would you think it was too weird." 

My pussy was already wet ... I could feel the heat, feel the juices oozing 
into my panties ... and I laughed. "I think it would be delicious." 

I immediately started to take my clothes off 

She did too, although I stripped down totally nude, and she kept her panties 
on. We were roommates, so of course we'd seen each other's bodies before, 
but this was the first time that we'd let ourselves really enjoy the sight 
... I told myself that she was almost perfectly built ... and I could see in 
her eyes that she felt the same way about me. 

We were nervous. 

But she approached, slowly at first, then more eagerly. She placed her hands 
against my cheeks, slowly drew my face to hers and kissed me. 

I returned the kiss, letting my lips open hungrily, letting my tongue slip 
into her mouth, and letting hers into mine. 

Her breasts were firm, round, and tight, with each nipple sticking straight 
out in front of her. 

"Mmmmmm . . " I heard her moan, from deep down in her throat, "you're so 
beautiful I think I've wanted you since I first met you." 

I couldn't say the same thing, because it had never occurred to me, but I 
knew that I wanted her now I was hungry for her in a way that I'd never been 
for anyone else since coming to college. 

She reached down between my legs, touched my slit, and I felt like an 
electric shock had just gone ripping through my entire body. 

"Oh, GOD!! " I gasped. She just pressed harder against my cunt, harder, and 
harder and harder ... 

Running her fingers up my hole now, she said "My God, you're so wet I can't 
believe how wet you are. ' 

"That's because of you," I told her. "You've got me hot. Spank me. Please. 
Spank me now." 

"I will ... I promise. But I've got an idea first." 

"What?" 

But she said nothing else. Instead, she simply took my hand, led me to her 
bed, gently pushed me back onto it, and then, I saw that she was holding my 
panties in her hand. 

"I've got an idea," she said. Then, she pressed against the inside of each 
thigh, opening me up, parting my pussy lips. 

I didn't understand what she had in mind at first, but then, to my surprise, 
she started to insert my panties into my cunt hole. 

That's right! She was stuffing them up inside me! 

"Oh, wow," I said, feeling myself fill up. "I don't get it." 

She giggled. "You will. If my guess is right you'll really get it." 

They were completely up inside me now, and I could feel the silky material 
pressing against the walls of my cunt, every time I moved my pelvis. 

She then lowered her face down between my legs. 

I flinched, but just for a moment. I'd never had anyone go down on me 
before, and just because it was so strange, I kind of resisted at first, but 
then, I felt her tongue against my clit, and I'm telling you, my brain blew 
a fuse. Two, maybe three even. 

I closed my eyes, and before I knew what was happening, I was floating ... 
literally, supported by a bed of sheer sensation, floating in the inner 
spaces of my mind. 

The outer world completely fell away, and soon, there was nothing for me 
except for the tip of her tongue, the tips of her fingers and the nerve 
endings in my clitoris and the rest of my crotch. 

She knew exactly how to make me feel spectacular. I'd never known such a 
feeling of ecstasy. 

"How do you know how to do this," I finally asked her, amazed at the way she 
knew to bring me to the peak of arousal. 

"I'll tell you later." 

"No. Tell me now. Please, tell me now." 

"I used to have a governess ... she was a dyke ... beautiful ... she's the 
one who kind of made me think that women were better than men." 

"She has my heartiest compliments. God! That feels good." 

I closed my eyes again, let her do whatever she wanted. 

She was really amazing ... her tongue seemed to know exactly how much 
pressure to use, and how to keep me right at the edge of mania ... she never 
pushed me over ... never let me come, but for what may well have been hours, 
she kept it up., slowly, never hurrying, always leaving me wanting more, 
more, more ... I couldn't seem to get enough. 

I'd completely forgotten about my panties, but they were right there, up 
inside me, getting wetter and wetter. . 

Then, suddenly, just as I felt like I was going to come, and really hard, 
she stopped, sat up, and let her fingers creep up inside my pussy. 

That's when I remembered my panties. 

She pulled them out., slowly, letting the silky material slide over all my 
tissues. As the end came out, she pulled it up through my slit, scraping it 
over my clit. 

I started to come, right then, felt all my muscles go rigid, and started to 
moan. 

But then, they were out, the sensation stopped for a moment, and I was 
afraid that she wasn't going to do anything else. 

But then she said, "Put them on now." 

I took them from her, and was amazed at how wet they were. They were 
drenched. Slick, oily, with a heavy, pungent aroma of cunt juice ... aroused 
cunt smells like nothing else in the world. 

"You want me to put them on. . ? " I asked. 

"Hurry. Before they dry out " 

I was starting to get an idea of what was on her mind. 

They felt a little cold against my skin as I pulled them up over my thighs 
around my waist, and let the elastic leg bands slide into position up 
against my body ... "Roll over," she said. 

I obeyed at once, knowing now what was coming. 

She got up off the bed, walked over to her desk and opened one of the 
drawers. I glanced over my shoulder as she was returning, and saw that she 
was holding a sturdy, wooden ruler in her hand, an eighteen incher. . 

My heart began to pound wildly. 

My clit was singing already, and my ass was quivering in anticipation. 

She began to spank me as soon as she was within reach, and I was stunned. . 

It hurt me so bad, I almost started to cry, but I had been without that 
sensation for so long, it felt utterly delicious. 

I couldn't get enough. 

I swear, if her arms could have held out, she'd be spanking me still, this 
very day, non-stop. 

I'd have been willing to lie there beneath those blows, without moving. 

Well, I was moving all over the place, really. The pain was shooting through 
me, my clit was sending out mindlessly exquisite pulses of pain and pleasure 
at the same time, and I just couldn't get enough. Of any of it. 

My wet panties just made the stinging feeling increase, more and more, and 
as she continued to spank me, she was getting into it more and more, 
swinging harder and harder. 

I turned around, because I wanted to see the expression on her face as she 
spanked me. 

It got even more turned on by what I saw than I would have expected to. 

She had her hand stuffed down her panties, and I could see that the front 
was pulled down, exposing her pubic hair. 

There were two fingers up in her slit, and she was rubbing her thumb against 
her clit, getting hotter and hotter on her own, as she spanked me. 

I immediately stuck my hand underneath me, and began to finger my clit as 
well. 

That was the magic that did the trick. 

My entire body blasted into orgasm, the most intense that I'd ever 
experienced in my life. 

Needless to say, it was the start of a beautiful friendship. 

CONCLUSION 

Judy continued her relationship with Mary June throughout college. 

Neither girl had any need for men, and as soon as they were financially 
secure, they moved off campus into a small apartment, where they were free 
to pursue their own strange lusts, and secret desires, in complete privacy. 

After graduation however, they went their separate ways and Judy found 
herself once more without a partner. And growing rapidly more and more 
frustrated. She attempted to rediscover men, but found herself hopelessly 
alienated from them, and from normal heterosexual experiences. 

I fear that her future lies in accepting the lesbian nature of her needs, 
and in learning how to satisfy them 

 CASE HISTORY THREE 

SUBJECT: Elizabeth M. AGE: Twenty five 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Elizabeth gives us a further glimpse into the strange world of pain and 
pleasure. Her case is a little more curious, because unlike many of my 
patients, her difficulty in not in her condition itself, but in the reaction 
of society. She really has no desire to change herself. She simply came to 
me, to gain confidence in this desire. 

I of course, was only too glad to lend whatever assistance I could. 

It was Sunday, and I was bored. 

I hated Sundays. They were always filled with one, ponderous certainty ... 
Church. 

God, I hated it. I liked the people there, of course ... they were most of 
my friends. 

But I didn't like having to get up early, get dressed in all that shit, and 
then go and listen to a bunch of lobotimized cretins talk about something 
they couldn't have understood if they were intelligent ... which they 
weren't. 

Reverend Flogget. 

Selmer Flogget, possibly one of the lowest forms of life the planet has ever 
evolved. 

I don't know what school ministers have to go to to become ministers, but 
Rev. Flogget's proof beyond doubt that it's not worth a good God damn. 

This particular Sunday, he went to sleep in his chair, before the end of the 
choir's second hymn, and then, when it was time for him to stand up, give 
the prayer (that always went on soooooooo interminably long) and the sermon, 
he just sat there. 

There was a slightly embarrassed scuffling of feet throughout the 
congregation, and then, a cough or two ... 

Finally, one of the deacons diplomatically walked up to the front of the 
church, leaned over and whispered in his ear. 

"WHAZZAT!! ! " he sputtered loudly, bolting awake. "What do you mean!! ! I'm 
fine!! ! Damn you, woman, just put your clothes back on--! " 

Then, realizing that he was not in whatever dream he'd been startled out of, 
but was, in fact, in church, and making a very conspicuous fool out of 
himself, he turned a deep red, and waved the deacon off. 

He stood, and walked to the podium, leaned into the microphone, and said ... 
nothin. 

It was clear that he was extremely upset, and that he didn't seem to know 
what to do, at all. 

He kind of swallowed, and looked around, and finally he held his hands up, 
and said let us pray." 

Everyone bowed their heads. 

"LORD!! ! " he began, as if God needed to be awakened as well, "hear our 
prayer and bless us, your flock of wayward sinners, who, even though we may 
not be perfect in and of ourselves, most-likely do not hesitate to pass 
judgment on the failings of others. Help us to comprehend that such behavior 
is truly odius in your eyes, and that, most-likely, you'll smite us down 
real good, if we, uh, do that ... uh, that sort of thing. Help us to mind 
our own business, and to keep our mouths shut when our brothers' backs are 
turned, for truly it is written, the gossip shall have his tongue torn out 
by, uh, by, uh, buzzards. Right. Buzzards. And, help us to comprehend that 
simply because our brothers might expose their weaknesses in public, that 
our own private failings are no less secreted from thine eyes, and that 
you'll get us all in the end. For indeed, you are a jealous, and a terrible 
God, and you've got a real fierce temper ... and you lose it a lot. So help 
us to remember that we'd better watch out. Amen" 

He opened his eyes, and started to launch into his sermon, a variation on 
the usual theme, which was that the church needed more money, and that if we 
didn't cough up, we'd all go to hell. It didn't work, because when the 
collection plate was passed, it was just about as empty at the end as it had 
been at the beginning. 

The deacons brought the plates up to the front, and Reverend Flogget walked 
down to them, and when he looked down at the plate, he stopped his usual 
ritual, which was to bless the money to the work of the Lord. Instead, he 
said "Hold on, hold on, this just ain't gonna make it." 

Then, he turned and walked back to the podium and turned on the microphone 
again. 

"NOW HOLD ON HERE, FOLKS. JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FOOLING?" 

Everyone got a little nervous at that. 

"Do you honestly think the Lord doesn't see when you put lead slugs into the 
plate?" He held one aloft. 

There was an audible gasp from the congregation. I started to shiver a 
little bit. I didn't have any idea that he'd have done this. Otherwise, I'd 
never have put it in the plate. 

"Now, what do you think God's going to say to me, when I bless a lead slug 
to his work? You know what he's going to say? He's going to say 'Selmer 
Flogget, you're one piss-poor pastor, if you can't whip that flock of yours 
into better shape than this'. Yesssir, that's what he's going to say. Now, 
I'm going to tell you right now, there isn't no point in coming to church, 
unless you get the whole service, and unless we find out right now who put 
this implement of the Devil into the plate, I'm just going to keep the doors 
closed, and withold the blessing from you, and you won't be blessed, and 
that means if any of you kick off from a heart attack, or a wild dog bites 
you, or you get hit by a car, you'll go right to Hell. Yeah, that's what'll 
happen to you, if we don't figure out right now who done this dastardly 
deed." 

Now, I don't think that anyone, Rev. Flogget included, really believed any 
of that religious claptrap about blessings or anything like that. But no one 
wanted to be the first one to stand up and say so. That's the kind of social 
bullshit the church put over on our town. 

So, there we sat, and it kept getting closer and closer to noon, and it kept 
getting hotter and hotter, and we were all sweating ... 

And people were sort of just feeling low and mean, and there was a nasty 
undercurrent of anger that you could almost feel. 

"The Lord's awaitin', Dear Friends ... he's right here in this room, and 
he's just tapping his foot on the floor boards of the sky, waitin' to find 
out which one of you all made a mockery of his blessed church." 

More grumbles. More anger. More sweat. 

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I didn't know what was going to happen 
to me, but I had to come clean. I could see that we were going to be here 
all day long. 

So, I shrugged my shoulders, and slowly stood up. 

There was a gasp rippling all through the congregation. 

I heard my mother go "Oh my God, my baby ... " and I saw Reverend Flogget 
looking down at me with a satisfied grin. 

"All right, Dear Friends, the culprit's been unmasked. The rest of you can 
go home now, secure in the knowledge that God still wants your mortal souls. 
May he bless you each and every one. 

As the organ started to play and everyone began to file out, my parents 
stared at me like I was a leper or something. 

"How could you?" 

"You're going to get such a beating when you get home." 

"Restriction for the rest of the year." 

"Hell, restriction for the rest of her life." 

"You're going to bread and water for a month, you awful sinner you." 

"Excuse me," the voice of Reverend Flogget interrupted, "but could I have a 
word with you folks, just for moment?" 

"Certainly, Reverend. My Gosh, we're so humiliated, by this," my mother 
began to gush, and then my father told him, "I promise you, she'll be 
properly punished." 

"Oh, no, no, you don't understand ... truly you don't understand." 

"Tell us, Reverend," my mother said. 

"Yes," said my Father, "please, help us to understand." 

"The Lord doesn't want you to punish her." 

"He doesn't?" said my mother, sounding very peeved at the Lord. 

"Oh my goodness, no," said the Reverend Flogget. "Not hardly. You see, it 
was the Lord who was offended by her dastardly deed ... therefore, it is the 
Lord who will see to her punishment." 

"Hmmmmmm," said my Father, skeptically, "I don't know about that, Reverend. 
It's been a good while since the Lord actually intervened in the lives of 
men, don't you think. I mean, you know, who can say what the Lord's time 
schedule is. He might not get around to it for a couple of centuries. She 
could slip a lot of slugs into the collection plate during that time." 

"Precisely why the Lord has representatives on earth to take care of his 
business." 

"You mean, like yourself." 

"Precisely." 

I didn't like the way he was looking at me. However, once my parents saw 
what he was getting at, they both heaved a sigh of relief. They were only 
too willing to throw the responsibility off onto someone else's shoulders. 

I, however, was none too pleased. 

"What kind of bullshit is this?! " I thundered. 

My mother and father exchanged nervous glances with each other, and then 
Reverend Flogget said, "Perhaps you'd best be on your way. She'll be safe 
here with me." 

"I hope so, Reverend," said my mother. 

"Best of luck to you, Reverend," said my father. 

Then, with one more nervous glance in my direction, they left. 

I started to leave too, but the firm hand of Reverend Flogget landed on my 
shoulder. 

"I'd stand where you're at, little girl, if I was you. The Lord's pretty 
well pissed at you, if the truth be known." 

"And what would you know about God or anything else!" I shot back. 

"Child," he said, "you're asking for trouble." 

"Oh am I! Is that a fact! Well, let me just tell you something, Reverend ... 
" I began sarcastically. 

The church was empty now. It was just him and me standing there now, in 
front of the altar, and he turned to the collection plates that had been set 
there before God, more or less. 

"Take a look at it, child. Take a good look. Such a pittance. It's a shame. 
It's the shame of this whole church, that the plates are so damned empty. 

"Well, it's not my fault, is it?" 

"Child, you are a symptom. Yours is not the disease ... you merely represent 
the evil which has befallen the church." 

"I want to go home," I said, already getting bored. 

"No, child. You have a debt to the Lord. 

Your parents have handed you over to the custody of the church until that 
debt is repaid. Come with me." 

Now, Reverend Flogget didn't fool anybody, not really. At least, he didn't 
fool me. I knew that he was really just a horny man whose wife never gave 
him any because they already had a couple of kids, and there just wasn't any 
reason to fuck if you didn't want to bring a baby into the world, now was 
there? 

Well, there was something in the way that Reverend Flogget would look at me, 
or my friends, (girls, that is), sort of letting his eyes wander over our 
breasts, and maybe look at our crotches if we were wearing jeans (like on 
hayrides, and things like that), and he was pretty much what you'd call a 
dirty old man. Except that he wasn't all that old. 

So, when he took me into his office, and I saw that his hands were kind of 
trembling, I thought to myself that I might be able to blast right through 
his brain if I just came on good and strong with him. 

We walked inside and he sat down, but didn't tell me to do the same, so I 
just stood there in front of him, while he looked me up and down. 

"So, dear girl ... what have you done, what have you done?" 

"I stuck my hand into the wrong pocket, and I pulled that out by mistake." 

He smiled and just slowly shook his head. 

"You don't expect the Lord to buy that, now do you?" 

"Well, if he's using that slug I put in the plate, I don't think there's 
much else he could buy." 

I said it with a straight face, and he just sort of stared at me, probably 
wondering if I was putting him on or not. He wasn't too smart. 

"I see. Well, what would you think to be a reasonable punishment for you? 
How would you suggest that you work off this debt to the Lord?" 

I looked him straight in the eye and then, I kind of sauntered around to the 
side of his desk, perched myself on top of it, and said to him, "I think I 
know what you'd like to do." 

He looked surprised. 

"Child, it's got nothing to do with me ... we're here talking about ways 
that you might atone for this terrible thing that you've done--! " 

"Oh come on, gimme a break." 

"Eh?" 

"Look, it was a harmless prank. I really think, that if God's everything you 
say he is, that right now, he's probably not losing a whole lot of sleep 
over that stupid slut I put in the plate. In fact, if he's losing sleep over 
anything at all, it's probably because clowns like you are wandering around 
telling fools like my parents that you speak for him. Now, that would make 
anybody nervous." 

He stared at me, his jaw started to work, as if he was talking, but no sound 
came out." 

"Now see here, young lady, this in intolerable. I'll not be talked to in 
this manner." 

"Oh? What are you going to do about it." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Come on. I know what you'd like to do. I'll just bet I do. Come on, don't 
be bashful. My folks gave me to you. They don't care. They've never had the 
balls to do anything to me. I can get away with anything I want at home. It 
starts to get a little boring, you know? I mean, after a while ... it just 
gets real boring. You gonna let me get away with murder too?" 

He was starting to get red in the face, and I could tell that I was getting 
to him. 

"Listen to me, you smart mouthed little brat," he said, and I could see the 
first unraveling of that heavenly shroud that he always tried to wrap around 
himself, with only moderately successful results, "you just watch your 
tongue around me. You hear? I don't have to put up with this crap." 

"Why Reverend, I've never heard such ... and from a Pastor, no less. Why, I 
dare say, I'm shocked. Nay, nay, I'm scandalized. That's surely what I am. 
I'm scandalized." 

"You're a lot more than that, little girl. You're getting to be a real pain 
in the ass." 

"Well, why don't you do something about it?" 

"I just might do that." 

"I mean it ... I don't think you've got enough hair on your balls to do 
anything at all ... but I'll bet I know what you'd like to do ... hmmmmm ... 
? " I hopped off of his desk. "I just bet I do." 

And I kind of turned my back halfway to him, and stuck my ass out a ways. 

"Hmmmmmm? Give you any ideas? Hmmmmm?" 

I gave him my sexiest grin, and I could actually see him melting. 

"I don't think you can do it." 

"Do what?" His voice was very small. 

"I don't think you can do what you want to do." 

"What's that?" His voice was even smaller. "Spank me." 

He flinched, almost like I'd hit him. 

"Spank me," I said again, almost singing the words. "Isn't that what you 
want to do? Hmmmmm? Don't you want to spank me?" 

His eyes slowly started to widen. 

Then, he stood up, and pointed at me, like a prophet pointing to the wayward 
queen and exposing her to God and man. "Thou art a temptress. You try to 
destroy me with the pleasures of the flesh." 

"Nooooo ... you're the one who said I needed to be punished. Come on. Admit 
it, this isn't for God. Or the church either. It's for you." 

"You're a child of Satan. My God, he's got his paws on you worse than even I 
imagined." I started to giggle. 

"Come on, Reverend, let's do it. I think it would be kind of fun. Don't 
you?" 

And as I spoke, I slowly raised up my skirt. Higher, higher, higher ... till 
my panties were showing. 

He stared, and although he still looked like he all kinds of thunder raging 
inside of him, he couldn't do anything but stare. Slowly his jaw dropped 
open. 

"Oh, Reverend, I feel so naughty. I've been ever so bad, and I do wish that 
I hadn't been. Don't you think you can do something to keep me from being so 
bad again?" 

I turned around, making sure that my skirt was above my ass completely, and 
then I leaned over his desk. 

"Come on, Reverend. Come on. Do it to me. I know you want to. I can tell. 
You shouldn't lie. Isn't that one of the commandments? Hmmmmm? You should 
tell the truth, Reverend." 

He stared at me ... I looked at him over my shoulder, saw that he was just 
standing there, and I knew that he was losing the battle inside of him. 

Then, I reached around behind me, and I slowly began to pull the elastic 
band of my panties down ... slowly, a quarter inch at a time. 

I felt my ass cheeks come into view, the lengthening line of the crack 
between them, and then, I looked over my shoulder again and saw that he was 
really starting to tremble. 

And the front of his robes was suddenly starting to stick out. 

"Why, Reverend Flogget, I do believe you've gotten yourself all hot and 
bothered, haven't you?" 

"What? Huh? What do you mean ... " he said trying to push his cock back 
down. Obviously, he didn't have a prayer. 

He looked at me with a more and more open look of longing and hunger. I had 
my panties down to my thighs now, and decided to go for broke. I knew it was 
cruel, and I also thought that it might be just a little dangerous ... I 
mean, you never can tell when someone like him is just going to get so much 
pressure bottled up inside of him, that he'll just pop. 

But I didn't really think that Reverend Flogget would get crazy. I just 
thought I was torturing him. 

It was fun too. He was really starting to squirm, and when I dropped my 
panties to the floor and slowly started to spread my legs apart, I knew that 
he'd be a pile of jelly before too long. 

I reached around behind me and slowly dipped a finger into my slit. 

I was surprised to find how wet and slimey it was. 

"Mmmmmmm," I said to him. "Don't you want to feel? Mmmmm." 

I rolled over on my back, spreading my legs for him as I did so, and ran my 
fingers into my cunt again. 

"Don't you like it? Don't you think my pussy is a pretty pussy? Hmmm? Have 
you ever had a chance to see a pussy like mine? It's so young, and tight ... 
and I'm not going to tell you if I'm a virgin or not, but I'll be your 
cock's never been in a pussy as tight as mine is. I'll just bet you. Hmmmm? 
What do you say? What do you say?" 

He started to walk up to me now. I thought that maybe I should roll back 
over, maybe put my panties back on, just to take away the stimulus ... but I 
still didn't think he was capable of violence. 

But then, he was towering over me. 

He glared down at me, and I could have sworn I saw lightning bolting from 
his eyes. 

"You're a clever little girl. You think you're putting something over on me, 
don't you? Well, you're wrong. You really are wrong, little girl, because I 
don't like being treated like this." 

He reached down and pressed a heavy hand against my breasts, holding me down 
against the table. 

"Reverend, stop this!! ! " 

I started to panic right then and there, but he was too quick for me, and 
before I knew what he was doing, he had the clerical collar off from around 
his neck and had started to stuff it into my mouth. 

I went berserk and started to try to kick him with my feet, tried to land a 
blow anywhere I could. 

But he was too quick, and managed to hold me at bay, while completely 
stuffing that material into my mouth. 

But I still had my hands, and so I started to try to claw at him, tried to 
reach any exposed skin that I could ... 

Again, he was too fast for me. 

The sash that he wore underneath the collar came off next. 

It was purple, made of a velvet material, and was quite sturdy and strong. 

He grabbed my arms and legs, and once again he surprised me. 

He managed to hold my hands and my feet all at the same time, pressing them 
together right above me. 

He then started to firmly wrap that purple sash around them, tight, drawing 
it ever tighter each time he wrapped more around me. 

I was shocked, primarily by the fact that he'd attacked me at all, although 
I guess I should have expected it. I mean, it's not like I wasn't asking for 
it. But I was also surprised by the speed the man had. 

He'd always struck me as a kind of slothful little clown, and now, here he 
was, roping me up like I was a cow at a rodeo. 

"You think you can taunt the servant of the Lord, and walk away unscathed by 
the heavenly wrath of God? Hardly, my child, hardly. You're going to learn 
exactly what the wrath of God feels like. You surely will." 

He was starting to talk kind of funny, like he wasn't making all the 
connections in his head. 

Then, he stepped back, surveying his handiwork. 

My pussy was dripping wet, and it was totally exposed to his steady, hot 
gaze. 

"You're going to get what you wanted, little girl, although perhaps not in 
the form that you wanted it." 

He raised his robes. 

Underneath them, he was wearing an ordinary pair of slacks, from a suit. And 
a belt. 

It was that belt that I focused my attention on, because he was now starting 
to unbuckle it. 

Imagine that, I thought, in what was perhaps my final moment of lucidity. 
The fool took me up on my offer. 

He held his belt in his hand now. 

It was made of leather, was thin ... no more than an inch across, and shiny. 

I had no doubt that it would sting. 

I didn't realize where he was planning to apply it, however. 

But I learned soon enough, as soon as he reached for me again, spreading my 
legs apart at the thighs, and running his fingers down through my hair. 

I was squirming now, trying madly to pull back from him, to maybe roll off 
the desk ... I didn't know what ... I only knew that I was losing my mind, 
that I was going crazy, that I couldn't think clearly. 

"Hold still ... little GIRL!! ! " he said, emphasizing that last word, his 
lip curling up into a nasty snarl as he grabbed a clump of my pubic hair and 
pulled hard on it. 

It hurt so bad, I couldn't stand it. 

But he was only just beginning. 

"Hold still," he said. "I'm not kidding you! Hold still!" 

And then, he started to wrap the belt around his hand. 

When there was only about a nine-inch length remaining, he placed his hand 
on my abdomen, pressing down hard, and, with the other hand, he brought that 
belt right across my slit. 

I shuddered, my entire body jerked, and I thought I was going to lose my 
mind. 

"Oh ... so you weren't telling me the truth, huh? You really didn't want me 
to spank you? Well, little girl, it's a little too late to change your mind 
now, I can promise you that. Now, damn your hide, hold still and quit 
wiggling, or I'm going to have to really hurt you." 

He swung his belt across my pussy again, then another time, harder now, 
harder yet again. 

He grasped my feet and wrists tightly, pressing them backwards, raising my 
buttocks, and then he lowered the aim of his belt, bringing it down across 
my ass cheeks, first one, then the other. 

He shifted again, with my legs pressed tightly together now, and he began to 
spank the backs of my thighs, whipping me as hard as he could. 

I was shrieking, screaming, trying everything I could to make myself heard, 
but my mouth was too stuffed for any sound to escape other than a series of 
muffled groans and strangled cries of agony. 

He spread my legs apart again, and this time, he brought that belt 
lengthwise through my slit, again and again, and again, harder and harder, 
ripping the tip over my clit, tearing through my wet pussy lips, turning the 
entire area into a hot sea of pain. 

And yet, each time that strap slammed into my cunt flesh, I could tell that 
the membranes were wet and moist. 

There was almost a splashing sound each time it struck. I had images of 
droplets of cunt juice splashing up and covering his white shirt, his 
necktie, his trousers. 

But then, there were other stains on his trousers, and I didn't think that 
they'd come from outside. 

They had come from his cock, and now, it was harder than ever. I looked at 
his crotch as he stood in front of my cunt, and I could see the thing 
pulsing, throbbing, and seeming to get larger with every passing second. 

My God, I thought, there was only one way that he could possibly get rid of 
that bulge, without going crazy, that is, and that was to stick it in my 
cunt. 

Was that what he had in mind? I was already so crazy from the pain of his 
whipping that thinking about his cock in me didn't seem like all that much 
more to withstand. 

But at the moment, he seemed to be concerned only with whipping me. 

In fact, it seemed like he was just getting off on that, and that there 
weren't any other thoughts in his mind. 

He was moving more slowly now, taking his time, making each stroke careful 
and deliberate. 

He aimed for my slit, and raised his arm, and brought it down, making each 
stroke harder than the last. 

Now he was starting to refine his technique some. He placed his fingers on 
either side of my pussy, and started to spread open the crack. 

I could feel the membranes of my cunt opening wider, wider ... he was 
staring hungrily at me now, peering right up into my hole. 

And then, he wrapped his belt around his hand a couple more times, until 
there was only about four inches remaining on it. 

He started to whip me directly on my clit. 

I couldn't believe how it felt. 

It hurt, of course, but there was such a blast of incredible sensation 
tearing through my body, that I thought I was going to go out of my mind. 
And then, there was something else happening that just convinced me all the 
more that I was going crazy. 

I started to get really turned on by it. I couldn't help myself. I didn't 
want to ... and it still hurt. But damn it, I was getting really turned on. 

I could feel my clit growing hard, could feel it starting to really throb, 
from the pain of his belt, of course, but also from the inner pressure that 
was starting to fill both that tiny organ and the rest of my abdomen ... 
particularly my crotch. 

I could feel all of my pussy membranes swelling, filling with lust ... I 
felt the cavity inside my hole filling more and more with hot juice ... 
until it was flowing freely from between my lips. 

And again and again, I felt that awful leather strap, striking me again and 
again across my lips, across my cunt, across my clit, right across the rim 
of my hole ... he amazed me with his ability to focus his aim, to strike any 
tiny spot that he wanted to strike. 

My clit was glowing now like a hot coal ... my entire cunt and my thighs and 
ass cheeks as well all felt as if they were on fire. 

Again and again he swung, landing blow after blow. 

I was losing my mind. 

I was losing control entirely, losing everything I had ... all that remained 
was the sensation inside my cunt ... the sensation on my clit, the growing 
sensation all through my body, that I was slowly filling up ... filling with 
lust, with sensation ... 

I wanted to scream, I wanted to burst. 

My eyes were closed, and I felt as if I had begun to float ... as if I was 
being supported by a giant hand ... floating on a bed of ecstasy. Of 
pleasure. Of agony. Agonized pleasure. 

I wanted him to stop, and I wanted him to continue. I didn't know what I 
wanted. Hell, I didn't even know my own name. 

Again and again he brought that belt across my cunt, and when I finally 
opened my eyes, I could see that he was starting to get tired. 

He was also fumbling inside his pants, and when he pulled his cock out, I 
could see that it was completely erect, and was throbbing every bit as much 
as I'd expected it to throb. 

Again and again he struck my cunt with his belt, but now, instead of holding 
my legs open with his other hand, he was holding his cock. 

He began to stroke it wildly, and I knew that he'd been hotter than the sun, 
because it took maybe five strokes before he started to squirt jism every 
where. 

I mean, that man had a back log of cum inside him that should have blown his 
balls apart long ago. 

It just started to squirt everywhere ... every which way, some of it landing 
on my face, some of it landing on my cunt, some of it landing on his pants 
... 

In short, we had us a real mess on our hands. 

He just kept on beating his fist against that thing, and I couldn't see any 
sign that he was starting to lose his erection. 

My God, I thought, could he actually be going for another one? 

Well, as a matter-of-fact, that's exactly what he was doing. 

Harder and harder, beating his fist back and forth over that swollen log of 
skin, he resumed beating my cunt with his belt. 

I have to admit, I was getting so turned on, I would have probably have 
stayed right there in that one position, even if someone had come in and 
untied me. 

It was a real turn-on, watching him masturbate, feeling his jism so hot and 
sticky, starting to ooze down the side of my face. 

Feeling him whipping me ... now it was actually starting to get pleasant. 
It's strange the way the body can accustom itself to pain. I was. 

It was feeling good. I wanted it to continue. 

So why, I asked myself over and over and over again, once it was all over, 
did Miss Furd have to choose that very moment to come in. 

Miss Furd is the organist. 

Miss Furd is about sixty, and as far as I know, she's never been touched by 
a man, or possibly by any living thing, for that matter. 

Miss Furd is not used to walking into the Pastor's office and confronting a 
scene like this one. 

Miss Furd took one look at the two of us, and she froze. 

I took one look at Miss Furd, knew the entire gig was up, and knew that I 
had to save my ass in the situation. Sorry Rev, I thought, but pleasant as 
it was, I'll never tell. 

I gave Miss Furd what was my wildest expression, tried to fill my eyes with 
as much panic as I could, and started to scream into the gag once more. 

She stared, and Reverend Flogget stared back at her. His cock, 
unfortunately, chose that moment to come for the second time, and as thick 
white gobs of jism poured all over me, Miss Furd, unfortunately, proved a 
little too squeamish for life in the raw ... and she threw up. 

Needless to say, my parents were properly horrified, the church revolted, 
Reverend Flogget got ten to twenty, and I got a degree of fame around town 
that made me a celebrity until I left. 

Which, I can assure you was as soon as possible. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

However, as Elizabeth continued her story, I realized that the end of her 
harrowing tale concerning the weird Reverend Flogget was only the beginning. 
The scars of such a trauma can sometimes never be healed. 

She continues: 

I really was kind of a trouble maker. I mean, all that shit with the 
Reverend wouldn't have happened if I wasn't such a smart mouth. Of course, 
no one believed him when he said that I'd teased him into it. I knew how to 
play the innocent little girl and all ... but the truth was, I really was a 
trouble maker. 

But I managed to live a fairly normal life for a while after that. 

I left town as soon as I graduated from high school, went on to college, and 
found that men tended to be a pain in the neck. 

I also discovered that they were every bit as easy to manipulate as Reverend 
Flogget was. 

If their balls are sending signals to their brain, they can be coaxed into 
anything. I never had to write a paper in college. There was always some guy 
willing to do it in exchange for a fuck. 

I never had to do much of anything for myself, really, except take the 
trouble to lure a guy into my web. 

Once there, he was virtually helpless. 

I knew all the tricks, and I knew how to use them, so well, that most of the 
time, I really didn't give any thought to what I was doing. I just did them. 

After college, I moved to New York, for the same reason that everyone moves 
to New York. I wanted to make it in the big city, and I wanted to taste life 
at the top. 

I guess it was along about here that I started to have some serious 
questions about myself ... about my relationships with men, and also, it was 
here that I started to think more and more about that experience with the 
good Reverend. 

I'd found men boring, as I've already said. 

They had no challenge. They had no excitement. Fucking, by itself, was never 
much of a kick. I don't know why, but I just couldn't ever really get off on 
a cock, just by itself. I was always able to give myself more intense 
orgasms alone in the bath tub. And there were always these personalities 
that were included along in the bargain, when you went looking for a cock. 

Personalities with hang-ups, personalities that needed to be noticed, egos 
that needed to be soothed. 

It was always kind of a drag. It was what was done ... I mean, you just sort 
of take dating, and relationships for granted ... they're something that you 
do. But I realized that I hadn't been really enjoying any of my 
relationships. 

I remember one night, after a date where I'd gotten laid, (as usual), I went 
back home (against my date's wishes ... but I just didn't feel like spending 
the night with him. I mean, in the dark, it's one thing, but in the morning, 
you have to look at each other, and he just didn't impress me as someone 
that I'd want to look at), and so, I was sleeping by myself, and it was 
probably around four in the morning. 

Suddenly, I was sitting up in bed, looking around like a maniac. Was there 
someone in the room with me? 

No, I'd been dreaming ... yet ... 

I thought about it, tried to collect my thoughts ... tried to remember the 
dream, remember the events that had caused me to bolt upright in the bed ... 
but try though I might, I couldn't. 

But all the next day, I'd catch fleeting images ... not even images, really, 
at least not in any visual sense. 

It was more like fleeting recollections of the mood and atmosphere of the 
dream. 

It was a strangely erotic mood. 

I felt helpless ... frightened ... and it was that fear that had directly 
contributed to my feelings of arousal ... for yes, I really was aroused. 

I'd ignored it when I woke up, but in the morning, I realized that my 
panties were wet, and that I was still oozing juice, and it wasn't just 
because some faceless cock had shot its cum up into me. I'd already washed 
that out. I was hot ... I was aroused, and I couldn't explain it. It was, 
actually, something that was pretty rare. 

All day long at work, I kept feeling this mindless itch between my legs, and 
I kept getting these images of helplessness ... of fear ... of some 
faceless, unknown menace that was looming over me, threatening me ... 

I got home that night, and couldn't figure out any reason for my feelings, 
but I was actually getting horny. That was pretty rare for me. 

I usually didn't get this kind of feeling at all. But now, I couldn't help 
myself. 

I tore off my clothes, and after making certain that the door was locked, I 
started to paw at my clit, jamming my hand down my panties, sticking my 
fingers up my hole, and rubbing the tips over my hardened clit, hard as I 
possibly could. 

And all the while, I kept getting strange images ... almost visual now, 
almost something that I could remember ... almost a face that I recognized 
... 

I pawed at my clit, feeling my juices flowing all over my fingers, spreading 
out through my pubic hair, smearing all over my thighs ... 

I came ... it was a mad, passionate orgasm, one filled with lust, one that 
seemed to spring from an unknown corner of my body and my soul ... it was 
one that seemed to say, 'I'm only the first ... there's a lot more where I 
came from, so get ready ... ' 

I didn't go out that night. I watched a little television, kept feeling 
distracted, and so I finally just gave up and went to sleep. 

It happened again. 

Only this time, there was a face to go along with the feelings ... it was 
the good Reverend Flogget ... and he was every bit as big and threatening as 
I'd remembered him being. 

But what was so unsettling was me ... my reaction in the dream ... I was 
once again bound and helpless, and I was moaning, and groaning in pain ... 
and I remember thinking in my dream that I must be in a lot of pain ... but 
then, I could hear what I was moaning, and it was "Yes ... yes ... yes ... 
yes ... yes ... " with every stroke. 

He was whipping me still ... as if he'd been repeating that same act all 
these years, tucked safely away somewhere in my subconscious, only now 
getting ready to bring back into the real world. 

He was no longer using his belt, I noticed. Now, there was an awful whip in 
his hands, a whip of heavy black leather, with frayed ends, so that he could 
produce a more intense sting. 

But one thing was unchanged. 

My naked body, legs and arms splayed spread-eagle before him, my pussy wide 
open, and that whip, again and again ripping right through my pussy. 

Right onto my clit. 

Harder and harder ... again and again ... never letting up. 

I woke up in a heated sweat, from that dream, and felt a mixture of fear and 
heavy arousal. 

I wanted the dream to continue. I was bitterly angry that I'd woken up. 

But there wasn't anything I could do, except to attempt to recreate the 
dream itself. 

I was almost dizzy with the residue of that dream, almost crazy. 

I went quickly to my closet and I pulled down the first belt that I could 
find, and literally fell back onto the bed, gripping the belt tightly. As I 
spread my legs, I started to slap the belt against my clit, hard, hard as I 
possibly could. 

I went crazy. 

It was the most delicious sensation that I'd ever felt ... at least since 
that day with Reverend Flogget. 

I remembered the whole thing then, in vivid detail, remembered the look on 
his face, remembered how I felt as he came all over me ... 

I whipped my clit again and again, and again ... so hard I know I'd have 
cried if anyone else had been doing it besides me. 

But I came. 

What an orgasm, too ... a mad, screaming orgasm, one that I couldn't seem to 
stop, once it got under way. 

My muscles clenched tightly, I seemed to feel a space opening up inside my 
body, growing larger and larger, until, all at once, I was consumed, and the 
world stopped for a moment. 

I felt drained ... I felt totally depleted ... 

And then, I finally realized what a deep-seated need had been ignored in my 
life. One whose seeds had been planted years earlier ... planted there by 
the good Reverend Flogget, and I hadn't had any idea that it was there ... 

But now I did, and I knew that I'd need a special kind of man, if I was 
going to ever find satisfaction. 

Suddenly, I was no longer detached from men. I was no longer interested in 
remaining aloof. Suddenly, I wanted a man, and I wanted one badly ... but I 
didn't know how to go about getting one. 

Not the kind that I needed. 

I'd had a lot of bad luck with men ... all of them were the kind of 
polyester, blow-dried plastic type that gets their personality from a 
television commercial, and they didn't have the faintest idea how to be 
adventurous ... if it's not written up in the Playboy Advisor, or if it's 
not in the Joy of Sex, they don't know anything about it. 

I needed a man who thought for himself ... one who didn't follow the crowd 
... one who didn't worry about fashion ... someone who created his own 
fashion. 

But where, oh where do you find a man like that? 

I found him the next day. 

"Elizabeth," my boss called over the intercom, "would you come in here a 
second." 

I walked into my boss's office, and ... I dropped my jaw. 

It was him! I couldn't believe it. Jack Rawlings ... movie star, heart throb 
of women everywhere ... and one of the best looking guys that I'd ever seen. 

"Elizabeth," my boss began, "I'd like you to meet ... " 

"Yes ... I know who he is," I said, facing Jack directly, holding out my 
hand. "This is a pleasure," I said to him. 

"Well thank you, Ma'am ... not as much of a pleasure as it is for me, I'm 
sure, but I appreciate the comment." 

"I have to say, I loved you in your last film, "Tidal Fury". Gosh, what a 
thriller. I mean, when you were trapped on that raft, and you went spilling 
over the falls, I'm telling you, my heart went spilling right over with 
you." 

He chuckled. 

My boss cleared his throat. 

"Elizabeth, I'm sure Mr. Rawlings has more to do than listen to a synopsis 
of his last film." 

"Are you kidding," Jack said. "I like nothing better. I never get tired of 
hearing about my own movies." 

"Yes ... well, we have to finish this business first, if you don't mind ... 
" 

"Sure, sure, whatever you say, Henry. Just show me where to sign, and then 
I'll be only to glad to take your delightful secretary to lunch, and let her 
tell me more about my movies. like I said, I just never get enough." 

"Harumph," said my boss, not really knowing much of anything else to say. 

Then, after all the paperwork was taken care of, Jack Rawlings remained true 
to his word, and he took me to lunch. 

I never went back to work. 

"Why don't we go and have a snack sent up to my room," he said. "I'm just 
staying right down the street." 

"Oh, I don't know ... I really can't be gone long ... my boss would-" 

"Henry? Henry won't say a damn thing. He's so grateful to be able to 
represent me he'll do anything I say. If you spend the rest of the afternoon 
with me, he'll just chalk it up to entertaining an important client. Hell, 
he'll probably give you a bonus ... maybe even a raise." 

"You don't take no for an answer very well, do you?" 

"Why, no Ma'am, I guess I don't. I surely don't." 

"Well ... I guess there are times when I can't say 'no' very well." 

"Fine ... fine. Just what I was waiting to hear. What do you say?" 

He led me down to the street and it was just a quick walk to his hotel. I 
was really spinning. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on ... he'd 
mentioned the possibility of me staying with him all afternoon ... but I 
wasn't sure if he was just kidding ... or what ... and we were going to his 
room ... and I didn't know what that meant either. 

But then, there was this wild feeling in my cunt, and I didn't have any 
problems figuring out what that meant. Not hardly. 

I have a feeling that most of the communication that went on between us that 
afternoon was non-verbal. Somehow, as soon as we walked into his room, and 
he locked the door, I knew that he was going to draw me toward him, wrap his 
arms around me and kiss me. 

And I was right there, and he didn't disappoint me. 

I think I was already falling in love. 

He kissed with confidence, and with a hard, rough approach ... there was 
nothing sensitive about Jack Rawlings ... nothing at all. He didn't have the 
faintest interest in being gentle or sensitive, or anything else, for that 
matter. 

He wanted what he wanted ... nothing more or less ... and I had no qualms at 
all about giving it to him. 

He had his hands all over my body, and again, there was no preliminary, no 
awkward opening moves ... he just did what he wanted, and trusted that I 
wanted it as well. 

My nipples were hard, tight, and aching to be touched. He quickly unbuttoned 
my blouse, and then, I felt his fingers rushing up underneath the flimsy bra 
that I was wearing, cupping my breasts in both hands, squeezing them 
tightly, hard, really hard. 

"Oh, yes ... " I gasped, amazing myself ... but I wanted it. I need it. I 
needed it hard and rough, and I needed it from him. 

He didn't bother to unclasp my bra. 

He simply tore it off of my body. 

"OH!" I said, shocked, but he didn't even pause. His hands were on my 
zipper, and before I could even think about what was happening, he had my 
skirt off, was working on my slip with one hand, and had the other up my 
panties. 

"Jesus," he muttered softly, feeling the mushy swamp of my cunt. "You're 
wetter than a cold beer." 

I just leaned into him, feeling his fingers ... those delicious fingers, 
stretching me apart, stretching me wider and wider ... 

"Oh God," I finally gasped ... "fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me ... " 

He was looking deeply into my eyes. "I don't think I've ever found anyone 
qui willing ... " he said. 

"I don't think I've ever been this easy," I replied. "We can talk about it, 
or we can take advantage of it." 

He smiled, laughed a little, and then, he carried me to the bed. 

"Jack," I said, after he'd taken his clothes off and was about to climb onto 
the bed with me. "I have one favor to ask." 

"What's that?" 

"Well, promise you won't think I'm silly?" 

"No. I never promise anything. But I'll try to understand." 

"All right. Would you spank me. First. I mean ... would you think that was 
too weird?" 

He laughed. "Are you serious? Me? Think that was weird. Shit ... wait till 
you see me wearing a mask, snorkel and rubber suit." 

"What's weird about that?" 

"Wait till you see what I do in it." 

"Oh, tell me. Please ... tell me." 

"Later. Right now, I think there was a request place on the table ... a 
request for a very specific kind of treatment ... and I think I'd be only 
too happy to provide it for you." 

He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted me up. Then he lay me across his 
naked lap. I could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressing up into my 
cunt. 

"Spread your legs a little bit," he told me, and when I did, he slipped his 
cock up in between them, pressing it right against my slit. 

"Now, close them again." 

I did, and as soon as I did, he began to spank my bottom. He used hard 
strokes, but he wasn't trying to hurt me ... not really. I needed to feel a 
stinging pain, and he knew that, but I wanted to be able to walk when it was 
over. He was perfect. He moved from cheek to cheek, getting stronger and 
stronger all the time, yet never crossing the line, never using torture on 
me. 

I was writhing hard, rubbing my cunt up and down against his cock, and as I 
did so, I could feel the head moving around my hole. Suddenly, after a 
particularly sharp smack, I jerked my hips up and rammed them back down 
again, and I felt the head of his cock slide right up inside of me. 

I screamed, not from pain, but from the ungodly pleasure of it. 

He kept spanking me, harder and harder, feeling more and more of my juices 
flowing over his cock and his balls, slowly, steadily fucking me with that 
massive tool. 

It was the most delicious fuck I'd ever had in my life. I couldn't believe 
the feelings that were racing up from my cunt, charging my breasts, my 
entire body. 

Stroke after stroke, that massive opened palm of his landing solidly onto my 
ass, turning the cheeks a bright, fiery red. 

I came, again and again, and again ... and still that wonderful cock stayed 
right where it was, stayed so nice and hard, and throbbing ... he must have 
fucked me straight for about two hours. 

He didn't spank me the entire time. Occasionally he rolled me back onto the 
bed, fucked me lying down, or fucked me from behind or fucked me standing up 
... but after each orgasm (I lost count, there were so many), he would sit 
back up, lay me across his lap and start to spank me again. It didn't take 
long for me to realize that I would never run dry of orgasms ... not if he 
was willing to keep it up. 

I couldn't stand it ... I couldn't believe how intense they were, each one 
seeming more intense than the last. 

By the time we finally left his room, it was dark. 

"Gosh, what am I going to say to my boss," I asked. 

"Well, if you want to know the truth, I'm going to Africa next week to start 
work on a picture, and I'd be real pleased if you were to accompany me." 

"Really?" 

"Sure." 

"But ... but ... " 

"Hey, you don't have to give me your decision now. I can wait till ... say 
... nine tonight." 

Needless to say, I went. 

CONCLUSION 

Elizabeth gives us a deeper insight into the phenomenon, because for one 
thing, she is quite content to be able to deal with her needs. She accepts 
them, she enjoys them, and she knows that they are really healthy ... so 
long as they are given a normal expression within the context of a healthy 
relationship. 

There isn't much more to say about her, since there really isn't much in the 
way of therapy that she requires. 

 CASE HISTORY FOUR 

SUBJECT: Kathy R. AGE: Twenty 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Kathy gives us our final glimpse into this bizarre phenomenon ... one that 
shows us what can happen when it is allowed to fester unchecked in a family 
situation. Her story is chilling, primarily because she was so incapable of 
exerting any kind of control on herself, or on the circumstances surrounding 
her environment. 

My daddy died when I was a little girl . I don't remember much at all about 
him ... and I know that while I was growing up, there was always an endless 
succession of men coming in and out of my mother's life. 

She didn't seem to have a lot of luck with men. It was a shame too, because 
she was really pretty, and she had plenty of money., she didn't need to put 
up with the kind of ass-holes she put up with ... she just seemed to need 
them ... for other reasons ... reasons that I was never able to understand 
when I was a little girl. 

She had a kind of kittenish way about her, sort of a coy, 'come-hither' 
look, a sexy smile, and a real passive personality. 

I guess that's why she always wound up with real strong types, people who 
would treat her like shit ... for some reason, that's what she always seemed 
to need. 

I tried to stay out of the way a lot ... that's about all I can remember 
about growing up ... trying to stay out of the way ... staying late at 
school, staying over at friends' houses, staying anywhere I could. 

Finally, just before my sixteenth birthday, she told me she was getting 
married again. 

I freaked "out. 

"You don't mean Clyde, do you?" 

"Mm hmmm Clyde. You don't like him very much, do you dear?" 

"I don't think he-likes me very much, if you want to know the truth. He 
always gives me this strange look, whenever he sees me. He kind of gives me 
the creeps. If you want to know the truth." 

"Now dear, that's not entirely fair. He's always told me that he thinks you 
don't want him to say anything to you." 

"Mother, why would I act like that? I'm normal It's Clyde that I worry 
about." 

"Well dear, you're just going to have to make an effort now, because he's 
going to be coming to live with us.' 

"I wish he wasn't." 

She looked really hurt. "Kathy, why won't you try to help me. You've always 
been so hostile to my boyfriends." 

"That's because they're always such goons and nurds, Mom and they treat you 
like shit on top of it." 

"Not Clyde, dear. He's always been the perfect gentleman to me." 

"Yeah, well, that makes him the first. And besides, I don't think that it's 
all that true. I remember one time--" 

"Kathy! I don't want to hear this! I'm serious about this. I want you to 
stop being such a problem, and grow up You're almost sixteen, and you've got 
to learn to accept things that you can't change." 

"Look, he's going to be your husband, not my father, all right?" 

She gave a sigh, a very heavy sigh of exasperation, and then said "I have 
nothing more to say to you, Kathy. I really don't. There's only one thing 
that I want, and that's for you to try to make an effort to be nice to my 
new husband." 

The word almost made me puke, but I agreed that I'd try. 

Clyde had been wandering in and out for almost a year, and I'd sort of 
gotten used to him, but I wasn't kidding her when I said that I thought that 
he looked at me weird, and with a kind of strange grin, as if he could see 
me in a way that was far different from the way that I saw myself. It was as 
if there was a very private joke, and he didn't think it necessary to 
include me in on it. 

But, marry they did, and I glumly learned to accept him. More or less. He 
wasn't a total ass-hole, as I soon found out, and he did kind of treat my 
Mom nicely, with respect ... 

But there were strange things, things that I couldn't understand. 

Sometimes they'd be gone for a couple of days. 

I'd learned not to ask anything about them, to keep my mouth shut., but 
there was always something a little strange about my mother when they got 
back., she would be very quiet, calm and passive. 

I learned not to ask too many questions, but I wasn't stupid. I had a 
feeling that there was some strangeness going on, and it was frightening. 
All the more so because I couldn't imagine it ... I just sensed that it was 
there. . 

But I buried it. I just let them live their lives, and I thought that I'd 
live mine ... Except that there was something starting to happen between me 
and Clyde. 

I noticed that he would come out to the pool a lot when I was out there 
swimming. He started showing up a lot, in fact, all over the place, wherever 
I was. 

"Hello Clyde," I said one morning, on a Sunday, when I'd gone out to the 
pool to try and swim off the effects of a party the night before. 

I'd only had a chance to swim about ten laps when I was aware of a form 
above me, standing back a couple of feet from the side of the pool. 

I knew that it was him ... I didn't look up, or give him any indication that 
I was aware of his presence, I just kept swimming. 

But he was obviously aware of mine. When I finally stopped to catch my 
breath, he was standing right over me ... looking down my swim suit. 

"Getting a good view?" I asked him sarcastically. 

"What's your problem, anyway?" he shot back, ignoring my sarcasm. 

"I don't have a problem, Clyde, and to be honest with you, I'd love to keep 
it that way." 

He sat down at the edge of the pool, with his feet dangling in the water. 

"Look, Kathy, I don't hold you any ill feelings. Why don't you loosen up a 
little bit. Why don't you just stop being such a fucking tight-ass, how 
about it. There's no reason for you to keep ignoring me like this." 

"Oh yes there is," I said, sweetly, "I don't like you." 

"Well, could we talk about that?" 

"No. I don't have anything to talk about, if you want to know the truth. 

"What's the reason ... won't you just talk to me for a minute? Really, I'd 
like to have a serious conversation with you. We've talked honestly, 
face-to-face." 

"Oh, I see. You want to have a serious conversation, do you? Is that why you 
have a drink this early in the morning." 

"I drink, because I like to drink. It doesn't affect my judgment." 

"How would you know? You haven't exercised any judgment in years." 

"Ohhhh ... I see. We're going to be snotty, are we." 

I smiled, sweetly. "Yes. I think we are. I think we find there's nothing 
else that is quite so appropriate. Yes ... I think snotty is exactly what's 
called for." 

"My dear, I'm getting pretty damn tired of all this bullshit. You're playing 
a shitty game, and I don't much like it." 

"Oh, you don't much like it do you. Well I didn't ask you to come out here, 
Clyde. So, why don't you just go back to wherever you are, wherever you come 
from, and leave alone to do whatever I want to do." 

Suddenly he grabbed me by the wrist and held me tight. . 

"Let go of me, damn you!! ! " I screamed. 

He was smiling now, a real demented kind of smile. 

"Why don't you stop playing games, Kathy. We're going to get to be good 
friends, whether or not you approve. Do you understand.?" 

I was struggling with him now, trying to pull my arm away, but I couldn't. 

He was strong, too strong, really, but he was also a little drunk, and that 
was on my side. 

I splashed him, and almost managed to break free, but he held tight. 

"You little bitch!" he yelled, and started to haul me out of the pool 
altogether. In the course of struggling with him, one of my breasts popped 
free from my halter top. 

He started to laugh lewdly at that, but I was livid. 

He pulled me right from the pool, the entire way, and dropped me onto my 
feet in front of him. 

But he made sure that he kept a tight hold on my hands. My feet were free 
however, and I began to kick at him as hard as I could, and even so, I 
couldn't seem to land any solid blows. 

He was surprisingly deft and sure-footed, and dodged my every step. 

He laughed at me all the while, which only served to make me more and more 
furious. 

"Let go of me, you stupid pig!! ! Let go of me!! ! " 

He suddenly shook me, hard. 

"Knock it off, you pompous little cunt. You think you're so fucking hot, you 
think you don't need to talk to people, to give them the time of day ... 
well let me tell you, I'm sick and tired of hearing it ... you understand. 
I'm sick and tired of you pretending that you're too good to give me the 
time of day. Who the fuck do you fucking think you are, anyway." 

I realized that he was a lot drunker than he'd said he was ... and I started 
to get very, very frightened. 

"MOMMMM!! " I screamed. 

"Knock it off, she won't hear you," he said. 

My tit was still flopping all over the place, and now, loosened from all the 
activity, I could feel my halter top slipping down over the other one as 
well. 

"HELLLLLPPPP!! ! ' I shrieked, hoping that the threat of involving the 
neighbors would slow him down a little bit, but he had a simple answer for 
that. 

He started to slap me. Hard. Across the face, across my tits ... 

I was so shocked that I went silent for a moment. 

He picked me up and carried me into the pool house. 

I started to really struggle now, realizing that I would be totally at his 
mercy in there. 

He threw me onto the bed (it had been made up into a guest house,) and even 
though it was not meant to be a real sturdy structure, I knew that I would 
have a hard time being heard from inside there. 

He wasted no time. 

I felt his hands all over my body, pulling at me, tugging at my bikini 
bottoms ripping at my halter top. 

"You fucking animal, you're going to regret this," I yelled, trying to claw 
at him. Trying to do anything that I could to hurt him. 

He was strong though, amazingly strong for a drunk. 

He threw me onto the bed, and picked up the tattered remnants of my bikini, 
and started to stuff it into my mouth. 

I was struggling as hard as I could, but unfortunately, I wasn't any match 
for him. 

Then, He stood up and untied his robe. 

It was made from sturdy terry-cloth, and as it fell open and I saw that he 
wasn't wearing anything underneath, I also saw that he was removing the 
cord. 

"No ... " I gasped through the gag. 

He just laughed at me. 

"Sweetheart ... I'm your new Pappa, and you don't seem to have the slightest 
interest in dealing with that fact. So, since you've been such an unruly 
daughter, I feel that it's in your best interest to do this. You've got to 
be taught a lesson, you see, and I don't think your mother, bless her heart, 
has what it takes Well, I do. I want that understood right now. I do." 

He was pulling my hands together above my head, and tying that cord tightly 
around them. 

I felt strange ... frightened, scared out of my mind ... but there was an 
amazing thing happening to me as well, something that I would have never 
expected ... 

Powerful fear has many things in common with arousal ... sexual arousal 

There was that same sinking feeling ... that light-headedness ... there was 
a sense that a pit was opening up inside me ... there was a feeling that I 
was expanding ... not my body, but my mind ... 

There was a sense of electricity charge all my nerves ... I could feel it 
... I was frightened by it ... and yet ... it seemed to be focused on my 
crotch ... 

No ... I told myself ... it can't be. 

But perhaps it was. 

I'd looked up at Clyde and seen his cock ... it was huge ... much larger 
than I'd have ever thought ... and it was hard as steel. 

He's going to rape me," I thought to myself He's going to tie me up and rape 
me. 

And you know what, Doctor as much as it disgusted me, I felt a juicy, steamy 
moistness rising out of my cunt ... I felt my juices slipping over my 
thighs.. 

I felt my clit start to tingle ... I felt ... 

God help me ... I felt hot and horny, and the threat ... the risk of being 
out of control, of having a crazed drunk doing all this to me only added to 
the sensation. 

He dragged me into another room in the pool house, and the first thing I saw 
there was a rope hanging from the ceiling. 

I began to scream into the gag, as loud as I could ... my fear and my panic 
were real ... they were no joke. 

But so was the arousal This was the kind of scene that I would have never 
submitted to voluntarily ... but yet ... it was something that I'd 
fantasized about in the past. . 

Not with Clyde, you understand ... but I'd wondered ... what would it be 
like to be out of control ... to be an observer at your own rape ... to be 
tied, bound, helpless ... 

I was going to find out. 

He worked fast ... very fast. I realized that he'd had a lot of practice ... 
that he'd had someone to practice on, regularly. My mother? 

Of course ... it all became very, very clear to me in an instant ... all 
those years. All those strange men. The trips. The quiet when she would 
return ... 

What was her bizarre need, I wondered. And how did it relate to me? How much 
of her need did I inherit? 

I could feel my body starting to react much more strongly now ... feel it 
filling with this strange detachment ... this strange arousal.. 

I wasn't me, was it? That's the question that was dimly bouncing around 
inside my brain. It wasn't me who was growing hotter and hotter with every 
tightening of the rope. With each new knot. Surely, I couldn't be feeling 
this reaction, could I? 

I was though ... and all my efforts to detach myself were futile, and I knew 
it. There was nothing that would help me escape the reality of my situation. 
I was bound and helpless I was in danger ... and that fact was turning me on 
like I'd never been turned on before. 

He pulled my arms above my head now, pulled the rope tighter and tighter, so 
that I was almost hanging in mid-air. 

He stood in front of me, laughing at me, looking closely at my body., 
studying each curve, each hot point of desire. 

Did he know, I wondered. Did he sense what he was doing to me? That I hated 
him, despised him even more than usual ... but that somehow, my twisted 
brain was reacting with hot arousal ... did he know? 

Or did he care? 

I watched him closely, wanting to shout the vilest things possible at him 
... but he simply laughed, and paid no attention to me. 

Instead, he dropped the robe from around his shoulders and began to stroke 
his cock. 

"You're gonna find out, little girl that I can be one mean bastard, when I 
don't get my way. Oh Yeah. Your Momma knows. Yeah, she sure does. And you 
know what? She loves me for it. She surely does. She-likes it when I say to 
her 'You've been a bad girl lady, and you're gonna get punished for it. Oh 
yeah, she surely does. I can see it in her eyes I can see it in her hands, 
the way they tremble., shit, she can't hardly ever even control herself she 
gets so excited ... and you know what gets her all hot and bothered like 
that? I'll tell you what. My belt. Oh yeah ... she loves it. She loves to 
feel it crack across her ass-hole, and across her naked pussy, and all over 
her legs ... yeah, your Momma knows what she-likes and I do too, and I know 
how to give it to her." 

He was standing right in front of me now, so close that the tip of his cock 
was rubbing against my pubic hair. 

"You know what else? I'll just bet you're a lot like your old lady. Yeah ... 
I'll just bet." 

He'd stroked his cock to a full erection now, and I glanced down at it, in 
spite of myself. 

I must have made some kind of reaction, although I don't remember it, 
because he started to chuckle. 

"You like that, don't you? I can tell. You'd just love to feel it slamming 
up into that hot little pussy of yours, wouldn't you? Well, honey, you're 
gonna get it. I promise you that. I make you a solemn promise right now that 
you're gonna get your wish. But first, you're gonna get something that's 
gonna make you hot as fire." 

He walked over to the cabinet, opened it, and I gasped. There were several 
whips hung up on racks inside. I'd never seen them before ... perhaps he'd 
anticipated this, and had put them out here just for me. Whatever, they were 
a truly gruesome looking lot. 

Heavy leather straps, wooden handles ... or thin canes, flexible, horrible. 

Why, I wondered, was my pussy tingling so intensely? What was happening to 
me? Why did I ... why did I want it so badly? That's what I couldn't figure 
out But there was no doubt that I did ... I wanted it. I loved it. I was so 
hot now, so turned on, that I thought I was going to explode. Would he use a 
heavy bullwhip on me? Or one of those thin canes ... 

I tried to imagine how it might feel ... ripping across my skin ... tearing 
me open. . 

It would hurt . that much I was certain of ... but would it really be 
pleasurable? 

I couldn't imagine it being so ... but I was reacting like it ... I wanted 
it. 

He instead came back towards me with an ordinary belt in his hands. 

It was thick, made of heavy leather., he was holding it by the buckle and 
studying me with a demented grin on his face. 

"You're a real cunt ... you know that?" he asked, his voice calm. 

He was right in front of me now, dangling the belt before my eyes, letting 
the tip touch against my pubic hair, then raising it up a little higher, 
higher still, touching it to my nipples now . . 

They were aching. He knew it. I could tell, by the way that he was grinning 
at me. He knew. He knew that I wanted it, that I was just like my mother. Oh 
God, he knew! 

"Getting a little hot, are you?" 

My eyes were wild with fear now ... I couldn't stop trying to strain at the 
ropes, and I was still filled with a blind rage. I fed on it. I let it 
nourish me ... sustain me, I let it feed my arousal. My pussy was screaming 
now. 

Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. . 

Those words kept racing through my mind. 

Yet, if I'd had the opportunity, I'd have torn the fucker's balls off with 
my hands. 

Maybe that was part of it. I wasn't ever really able to get completely 
pissed at him in the real world. This wasn't the real world. This was some 
twisted realm where all bets were off, where all the limits are thrown out 
the window ... a wide open game. 

I was pressed to the peak of my emotional reaction.. I wanted to kill him, I 
wanted to fuck him ... I wanted him to whip me ... all the things that I 
would censor out of my conscious thoughts under ordinary circumstances were 
now possible, because in a way, I was no longer responsible for my condition 

Sound like bullshit? Well maybe it is ... but I know that something has to 
explain that feeling that was filling my body., that mad, crazed desire, 
that load of lust that seemed to be insatiable. 

I wanted to feel., feel anything. 

I wanted to feel what he was going to give me. 

He was behind me now, and the tip of his belt was playing at the crack 
between my ass cheeks. 

"You know," he was saying. . "I'm really not such a creep. You ought to give 
me a chance. You should. I'm not such a monster., but you won't, will you? 
You've already made up your mind about me, haven't you? You don't think you 
need to even notice me, do you? Well honey ... why don't you notice this ... 
? " he said, and then, he hit me. It felt like he was using about two feet 
of the belt, letting the strap strike firmly across my ass cheeks. 

I screamed, the sound muffled by the gag in my mouth. 

I writhed, I shuddered, and I cringed. . 

"Please, hold still," he said, calmly, "or I'm not going to be able to do a 
very good job on you." 

He swung again. I could tell at once that he wasn't going to go soft on me, 
at all He was using every bit of strength that he had. 

I felt the pain shooting up into my body, so hot and intense that I thought 
my brain was going to simply stop working for a moment, and that I was going 
to black out. 

He struck me now with constant steady strokes ... harder and harder ... 
constantly in a regular rhythm. Again and again, across my entire bottom, 
both cheeks starting to glow from the heat of his belt. . 

Then he moved down on me a ways ... he started to spank me on the back of my 
thighs ... he moved up my back, and then, he slowly worked his way around to 
the front of me. 

My naked breasts were shaking and shuddering from the abuse he was heaping 
on me, but now, they knew pain and abuse like never before. 

He started to strike me directly on the tips of my breasts, swinging as hard 
as he possibly could. 

Again and again, whipping each nipple to a frenzy, whipping me till I 
thought I was going to pass out. He would rip the nipples right off, I 
thought. 

But he never let up, nor slackened the intensity of his spanking. 

Moving down my body now, he delivered well aimed blows to the flat, smooth 
plane of my stomach ... I could feel the muscles tighten in anticipation of 
his onslaught, but I think that only made the pain worse. 

He continued to move further and further down my body, until he was striking 
me right on my cunt. 

"Spread those legs," he ordered, trying to get his belt in between my 
tightly closed thighs. 

"I said spread 'em!" he shouted, and started to swing even harder. I was 
amazed because I was already convinced that he had been using all of his 
energy and strength. 

But I kept my legs shut, and he continued to whip me with his belt. Finally, 
frustrated, he grasped ony of my nipples and gave it a terrible, sharp 
twist. 

"Now I said open those thighs of yours . . " he said, sounding as menacing 
as anyone I'd ever heard in my life. He pinched the nipple harder, and 
continued to twist it. 

Finally, I couldn't stand it, and my legs parted a little. 

"That's good ... " he said, "but I want to see that pink meat between them. 
Come on, open up, all the way ... spread 'em, and spread 'em wide." 

He kept on pinching my nipples, and brought the belt back up to my breasts, 
giving each one of them several more sharp strokes. 

I finally was forced to relent, as much as it pained me to do so. 

He grinned in triumph, and then, taking me by surprise, he grabbed one of my 
legs and pulled up up into the air in front of me, so that my cunt was 
completely exposed and my two pussy lips were facing directly toward him. 

He began at once to swing his belt right at it ... bringing that leather 
strap right across my slit, ripping it through the slushy membranes and 
spreading my juice all over the place. 

And there was a lot of juice too. More than I knew that I had in me. But I 
was so wet that the juice was increasing the sting effect of the belt as it 
tore across the surface of my cunt lips. 

I thought I was going to die ... or come, one. That's what they call coming 
in French, you know . . 'little death', and I think I was somewhere between 
that, and the real thing along about then. 

He just kept it up, kept on hitting me, hard as he could ... and God help 
me, but I was getting off on it. I wanted it.I loved it, really ... I was 
already starting to crave it. 

Finally, he slowed down, and then he dropped the belt altogether. 

"So, you're too fucking good for me, huh?" he said, gloating. "Well honey, 
I'm looking at your face right now, and I see something else altogether. I 
see you wanting the ever loving shit out of me. Right? Hmmmm? Am I right?" 

He moved close to me now, again with his cock in his hands. 

"Look down, baby ... look at it. It's a biggie, don't you think? It's all 
for you, doll. Hey, are you a virgin? Hmmm? You need to get your cherry 
popped?" 

I didn't, but I knew that I'd be far too tight to take that thing, at least 
on the first try. 

But then, I underestimated his determination, which proved to be 
considerable. 

"Spread 'em once more, darling, because this is payday. Okay?" 

I did ... as if there was another force working on my body ... as if I no 
longer had control of my muscles, as if I was no more than a passive 
spectator at my own humiliating rape ... no longer taking part ... 

He pressed the head of that huge thing up against my lips, started to push, 
and I felt the first spreading of my tissues. 

Already I was feeling a bit of pain ... but I was already primed. I had been 
conditioned to it ... it wasn't something that I feared of itself because 
I'd already experienced it, and found that there could be pleasure in it ... 
somehow. 

He started to push harder ... and harder., and harder ... 

Deeper and deeper, I could feel that huge cock opening me wide. 

It started to really hurt now ... my muscles went rigid from the pain, and I 
was gasping, trying to keep myself at least partially under control. 

He never pulled back ... not even if only to spread a little more juice over 
the surface of his cock. 

He simply kept it up ... ramming harder and harder ... pushing deeper and 
deeper into my body ... carving a single trench through me. 

I kept spreading my legs wider and wider ... trying to give him the room 
that he needed to fit up inside me. 

But it hurt ... it hurt so bad. I started to cry, to scream, and even with 
the gag in my mouth, I was still making a lot of noise. 

Maybe someone would hear me, I thought. Maybe someone would come and stop 
him Maybe someone would come and save me. 

And do you know, doctor, as soon as I thought that ... I stopped screaming. 
I didn't want it to end. 

Not then., not ever. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

Kathy's story is only beginning, however, as you will quickly find out. She 
continues in this interview, and we see in grim detail the depths to which 
human behavior can sink. 

Clyde left me there, hanging in the pool house, for the entire morning.. I 
guess he went back to have breakfast or something ... but he just left me 
hanging there, and I was really starting to get pissed off at him. 

It hurt. Damn! Did my arms ever hurt. He had me strung up just high enough 
so that my arms were stretched, and my body weight was partially supported 
by them. Not entirely ... and I could still support myself with my feet, but 
that meant that I had to put unnecessary strain on my legs, and they'd begin 
to hurt. 

I'm telling you, it didn't take too long before I was so fucking enraged 
with him that I wanted to kill him all over again. 

That weird feeling, however, stuck with me. I was feeling very funny ... 
feeling like I'd somehow done something that I would be punished for, but I 
didn't know exactly what it might be. 

I couldn't deny the fact that I'd let myself become aroused, that his 
whipping had been terribly exciting ... that I'd wanted it to continue ... 
that I'd really gotten off on it. 

It was horrifying to me, when I thought about it, but there didn't seem to 
be any way around it. 

I thought a lot about my mother, wondered if Clyde had ever left her up like 
this, how had she become something like this ... how had she tolerated men 
like Clyde. . 

Questions like that, of course, led me to the inevitable question, what 
would I do. Would I tolerate him? Would I report him? I could, and I'd be 
able to get away with it without any problem. 

The whip marks on my body would be more than enough proof that I'd been 
through something terrible. I'm sure that I'd be able to locate his 
collection in the house ... 

But did I want to ... that was the terrible question that continued to 
frighten me ... again and again and again, I weighed the question in my 
mind, and found that I had no hard answer to it. 

Did I want to. 

I realized that there was something compelling about what Clyde had done to 
me, something that couldn't pretend wasn't real 

I had felt something, I had experienced something, and there was never going 
to be anything I could do that would erase that fact. 

I'd come ... a mind blowing orgasm, and it had been partly due to that 
whip., something I'd never have guessed about myself. 

But there it was ... I was like my mother ... perhaps we were exactly the 
same. 

Whatever, when Clyde finally came back that afternoon, I was a lot tamer ... 
for one thing, I was in a lot of pain, and that can tend to calm a person 
down real quick. 

But, I have to say it doctor, even though it makes me cringe .. ... I was 
intrigued. I'd never really been exposed to this kind of life style, and 
realizing that my mother had been indulging in it for years.. right under my 
nose, and I hadn't even noticed ... that sort of made me think that I was 
missing something., something that I might want to learn more about. 

I took one look at Clyde and had the feeling that he would be only too 
willing to show me all that I'd want to know. And a great deal else besides. 

"Well ... my darling daughter ... how are you?" 

"I'm in pain ... what did you expect?" 

He smiled ... it was a kind of crooked smile. 

"Well, I see you're still a little frisky. Well, I suppose that's good, in a 
way. I'd hate to see you go under so fast. It's always so much fun to break 
someone who is really a challenge. I like that. I've never failed. Ever. 

"You're sick, Clyde, and so is my mother, if she puts up with this kind of 
shit." 

He smiled. "You really don't know what you're talking about ... now stop. 

"Clyde ... why are you doing this? This is madness. You can't ... " 

He started to laugh. 

"You mean, you're hanging in the middle of this room, you're bound, and 
you'll be gagged again any time I want to put it back in your mouth ... and 
you're still telling me what I can and can't do? Really, my dear, you amuse 
me. You really do.". 

"Clyde. . " I said, struggling now, more from reflex than anything else. I 
knew that I'd never break free. I also knew, deep down, that I didn't want 
to break free. I loved it too much ... I wanted more ... suddenly, I knew 
that more than anything else, I wanted to feel that whip back on me again, I 
wanted to feel the bite of the lash as it seared over my skin. 

"Clyde ... you're an ass-hole, and I don't know what you think you're doing, 
but I'm telling you right now ... I'm not my mother You'll never break me. I 
will not be a passive little doll that you can do whatever you want with. 

"Little girl ... you'll break. I'll break you. That, I promise." 

He was standing in front of me now, and he reached out one hand and took one 
of my breasts in it. He took the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, 
and began to squeeze ... hard. 

I closed my eyes, felt the pain increase, resolved not to cry out. . 

But he was determined. He wanted to hear that cry of pain ... he wanted to 
hear me scream, to beg for mercy. 

Well, I wasn't going to do it. He might manage to force me to cry, but never 
would I beg him for mercy. Never. 

He had my other nipple now, as well. 

He was pinching as hard as he could ... but I still resisted. 

Which was when he apparently decided that serious measures were called for. 

He produced a couple of shiny items from his pocket. They were tiny, and his 
palm hid them for a moment, and I couldn't tell what they were. 

Then, I saw 

Then I saw what they were. 

Tiny alligator clips, the kind that you use to make electrical connections 
with thin wires ... 

They both had rows of sharp teeth on either jaw.. My eyes widened as I 
watched him pressing one open, reaching for my nipple, watched as the tiny 
jaws closed around it, pressing into it ... feeling the first sharp stab of 
pain ... feeling the pain growing harsher and harsher ... feeling it searing 
through my body, not just my breasts now ... my entire body was jerking and 
on fire from the pain in my nipples. 

"Oh, My God," I cried out ... just as he wished. 

I was quivering now feeling my entire body shudder. My muscles seemed to be 
firing from directions that originated elsewhere than my own mind. 

I couldn't seem to control anything. 

I was crying now, and I suppose I was saying things to him, although all I 
really remember is the sharp, unrelenting pain, and that it just kept 
getting worse and worse. 

Then, he produced another clip, and dropped to his knees. 

At first I didn't realize what he had in mind, but then, the realization 
dawned all too quickly on me. 

"Oh God, no no no no no no," I screamed, seeing him reaching for my 
clitoris. "Don't do it to me. Please, don't do it to me." 

He laughed. 

"I told you, darling daughter, I'm going to break you, and I'm going to do 
it my way., neatly, quickly, and efficiently You'll love it You'll thank me 
someday. Now shut up, or I'll put the gag back on." 

He opened the jaws to the alligator clip, spread my pussy lips apart, and 
closed the thing around it. 

My head seemed to come off then ... I couldn't really think about much of 
anything else after that happened. 

I've never felt such intense pain in my life. 

The mass of nerve endings all through my clit blitzed a surge of energy all 
the way up through my body, seeming to tear through my breasts, and turning 
my brain numb. 

I was shaking now, constantly in motion. I couldn't stop. 

He just laughed at me. 

"You look pretty funny like that," he said. "You should look like you're 
enjoying yourself. You look so glum. Here, maybe I can do something for 
you." 

He turned to the table, and picked rup the whip that he'd been using on me 
this morning. 

Tossing it aside, he returned to the cabinet, and came back with something 
else entirely. 

It wasn't a whip at all. 

It was a paddle. A large, thick paddle. There were holes in it ... I didn't 
know what purpose they could serve at first, but I quickly found out. 

For one thing, they cut down wind resistance, and for another, the holes 
themselves hurt more than the solid parts of the paddle. 

He swung and I tensed my buttocks for a major blast of pain. 

It exceeded everything I'd been expecting. 

He swung again, and once more, I felt like my body was melting. 

And then he swung again, and again, and again, and again ... without pause 
... mercilessly, relentlessly, ruthlessly. 

"Oh, God ... please ... please ... I finally heard myself begging ... 
"Please don't do this ... please ... " 

He laughed and just kept it up. 

"I'm telling you, girl, you're going to be a changed woman once I get 
finished with you. You'll love it. And your mother's going to love it even 
more." 

I couldn't even think about what he might mean by that. I couldn't think 
about anything. I was too busy trying to keep from going totally insane. 

I wasn't having too much luck. 

I don't know how long he whipped me ... bu I do know that I eventually lost 
all track of time ... I was simply drifting now ... I remember that I was 
suspended there in the room, that my arms were stretched tight ... that I 
could hardly even scream any more, I'd already worked my voice to the limits 
... And still he spanked me. 

My ass had long since gone numb. 

I was dizzy, delirious, half crazed. 

And still he spanked me. 

I couldn't comprehend anything anymore ... I only knew that I was slowly ... 
strangely and without any control over it ... learning to accept it. 

It had been going on now for several hours ... and he seemed to be unwilling 
to stop ... 

Starting with the early morning pool abduction, he'd been torturing me for 
most of the day ... and yet, the bastard was a real pro ... I have to give 
him that. 

He knew how to keep me back from my limits. 

Even those damned clips, painful as they were, seemed to have been specially 
manufactured so that the pain, while always excruciating, fell just a little 
short of utterly intolerable. 

And I didn't know how to deal with it ... I'd never been exposed to this 
much pain before in my life ... and now I didn't know what to do ... how to 
think ... I didn't know what was going to happen next, and I'd pretty much 
lost the ability to even wonder. 

But finally, he stopped. 

And again, I feel that if he'd gone on, I'd have been hopeless ... perhaps 
damaged seriously ... as it was, he knew exactly when to stop. 

First, there seemed to be an enormous calm settling over my body ... 

That wild sting that had filled me, that had turned my brain and my thoughts 
and my entire body to hot lava slowly cooled. 

Then, he dropped to his knees and removed that clip from my clitoris. 

The sudden release from pain can often be much more painful, in that first 
instant of freedom, than the pain itself had been. 

I screamed and felt a stab of sensation tearing through my body. 

He then removed the clips from each of my nipples. 

I looked down at them and could see deep impressions from the pointed teeth 
of each of the jaws that had dug into my flesh. 

The pain was still incredibly hot and harsh ... but my thoughts were slowly 
starting to settle. 

Then, the most amazing thing of all ... he went to the rope from which I was 
suspended, and allowed some of the tension to ease from my arms ... I began 
to stand on my feet again, but at first, I was too weak to support my weight 
and thus was forced to remain limply suspended by my arms. 

But the intensity was past ... he stood in front of me and said "Come on, 
Kathy, show a little spunk ... stand up. I'm going to be awfully 
disappointed in you. You don't want that? Do you?" 

He was talking soothing words, in a soothing tone, and sounding like my 
friend. I can't explain it, doctor, but at that moment ... he really was my 
friend. I felt like I didn't know anything else in the world except for what 
he had shown me, and what he had made me feel ... 

I still find it hard to comprehend ... but I wanted all of a sudden to 
please him. It became completely important for me to please him. 

Only part of it was my fear that he might resume that pain ... the whippings 
... 

That didn't really frighten me ... for some reason. I know now why that was. 
Already I'd learned to begin making that bizarre transference in my brain 
... to feel that strange warp that somehow renders pain pleasurable ... I 
didn't like it ... but I couldn't deny it either ... and I couldn't do 
anything about it ... nor did I want to. 

It was sweet, it was sickening ... it was sour, and it was frightening ... 
and it was the most real that I'd ever felt in my life ... 

Reed, Doctor. Can you understand that? Real ... existing ... not thinking 
about it ... planning it ... manipulating it ... worrying about it ... 

Simply existing ... no time ... simply one unbroken present. Can you 
comprehend that? Can you realize that it was something close to religious 
... a real transcendence ... a lifting out of this world and finding myself 
set down on a plane that I'd never before even known had existed. 

And it was pain, in all its glorious and terrible manifestations, that had 
been responsible. 

I couldn't explain it ... but at the time, of course, I didn't really need 
to ... or at least it never occurred to me to try. 

Now ... when I do wish I could explain it, and understand it ... there's no 
hope for me. It's been done. He did it, and that day was only the beginning. 

He finally let me down, and carried me to the sofa. 

My body was sore, weak, and every muscle ached, and yet, his hands felt 
comforting. He touched me, softly now, not with rage, or with pain, but with 
kindness ... compassion ... consideration. 

I felt his fingers probing up inside my pussy, and I knew that I was wet ... 
I wanted his fingers there, they belonged there, and he belonged in me. 

I wanted his cock. 

Somehow, I knew that was the final statement ... the purpose for all that 
had gone before ... I wanted him to fuck me ... and I knew that he would ... 

He spread my lips and began to lick me ... his tongue was soft, and moist 
and I was too ... 

He pressed it as deeply into me as he possibly could ... I started once 
again to moan, and suddenly, almost without warning, I began to feel a wave 
of arousal sweep over me, seeming to leave me breathless in its wake. 

My breasts began to swell, this time from passion and not from pain ... but 
they were so much more receptive to his touch ... to any form of stimulation 
at all, that I couldn't help but think that it had been from the treatment 
he'd put me through. 

My body had been sensitized ... my nerve endings all had been set on edge 
... and now, they were so much more sensitive that they were able to charge 
my body with a level of arousal that I'd never known before. 

He began to lick directly onto my clit. And again, the pain of those teeth 
in that tiny alligator seemed now to be only a preliminary to this. The 
surface of my clit and all the enflamed nerve endings beneath had all been 
set into a frenzy. Now, it seemed that the only release from the tension was 
through orgasm, and my clit, and indeed my entire body, welcomed everything 
that he did. 

Sensation ... for its own sake ... pleasure from sensation ... whatever form 
it took. That was the lesson that I learned that day. And I learned it well, 
although there was much left for me to learn. 

But that day changed my life. 

When he slid that cock of his up into my pussy, I thought I was going to 
melt. It was the most delicious feeling in my entire life. 

I was no virgin, but I felt like I'd never really known anything about 
fucking until that moment. He rammed it up into me hard, and then, taking 
his sweet time, he slowly pulled it out ... all the way out, until the head 
left the protecting, enfolding embrace of my pussy lips. 

And then, he touched it to me again ... this time, holding it right at the 
opening of my cunt ... holding it there, allowing me to savor the feeling of 
his cock, allowing me to grow hotter and hotter through the anticipation of 
the moment ... 

I could think of nothing else. 

My body was approaching a point where I was certain I would explode if I 
didn't get the release that I needed. 

He was simply raising the tension. 

He wasn't about to allow me to fall back from the peak to which he was 
steadily pushing me. 

He was, however, more than content to simply allow me to hold there, almost 
hovering in the sexual space around me ... 

I wanted more ... I needed more ... I was begging for more. 

"Please ... please ... please ... " I began to moan, "Clyde ... don't do 
this to me ... this is the worst of all ... this is torture I can't forgive 
... I need it ... stick it in me ... ram it into me ... fill me up with it 
... " He simply chuckled. 

"Boy, you sure have changed your tune, haven't you, little girl." 

"Oh, Clyde ... please ... do it ... do it ... please do it to me ... " 

He let his cock slip a little ways into my cunt, but then, just as I was 
going to push my hips up at him, he pulled back away. 

"Ah ah ... not so fast ... not so anxious, little girl ... I told you, I'm 
the teacher ... you're here to learn." 

"Please fuck me, Clyde. Please fuck me. Please fuck me. Please ... please 
... " 

It seemed to be all I could do, repeat my pleas over and over and over ... 
but he conformed to his own schedule, whatever it was ... I couldn't tell, 
but I knew that he wasn't about to start fucking me hard and fast, just 
because I was begging him to do it. That simply didn't seem to be Clyde's 
way. I was right. 

He pushed it all the way in all of a sudden, one massive, mighty thrust, 
jamming it all the way to the bottom of my cunt well. I could feel his balls 
slapping gently against the crack in my ass, and I wanted to feel more ... I 
wanted to feel what was inside of them ... I wanted to feel his hot jism 
spurting all through my cunt ... 

Then I had an even stranger image ... cocks by the dozens, by the hundreds, 
all of them poised above me ... above my face ... all of them thick, 
throbbing, ready to spurt, ready to shoot all over me ... I saw them all, 
one at a time, as if fired by a digital sequencer, each in its turn spurting 
wads of thick white cum down over my naked, oily body ... I could see thick 
gobs of it in my hair ... taste it oozing into my mouth, feel it slithering 
down my throat, feel it hot and wet on my cheeks, on my breasts ... 

There was a pearl of white jism dangling from my nipple, and I saw myself 
stretching my tit up to my mouth and with my tongue eagerly slurp it up, 
tasting it, swallowing it. 

More and more cocks above me now, all of them stroked to full erections, and 
I wanted them all ... I wanted to feel them in my pussy ... I wanted to feel 
two of them at once in my pussy, feel them both at the same time stretching 
my hole so wide that I could actually feel the membranes separating--! 

Perhaps a cock in my ass too ... filling my body so completely that there 
would never again be room for anything ... cocks, cocks, and more cocks, I 
wanted them all and I wanted them right then. I was hot, and getting hotter. 

Clyde could feel it. 

He looked down at me ... and I saw it in his eyes ... he had absolutely no 
interest in anything except watching my body writhe ... watching me squirm 
... listening to me scream ... listening to me cry ... listening to me groan 
... 

He was pure sex ... untainted by any thoughts of social propriety ... and I 
was totally unprepared to deal with it ... 

And so there was nothing that I could do except to surrender ... and I did. 
My body yielded, it gave in ... it collapsed ... and I was totally his. 
There was nothing that I could do. There was nothing that I wanted to do, 
except to feel more. And more, and more, and more ... 

He knew it ... God, did he know it ... I couldn't believe how long he 
extended that fuck ... harder and harder and harder ... slowly bringing me 
to a heat ... slowly raising my temperature, driving me closer and closer to 
the edge ... 

I felt my body explode ... I couldn't stop. I couldn't control myself. I was 
lost out on some bizarre landscape, littered with the debris of my past 
perceptions, none of which held any weight with me now ... I was changed ... 
and as I came, and felt his jism shooting through me, I knew that somehow, I 
was happy. 


GENERAL CONCLUSION 

There they are, my friends, all of them, and millions more like them ... 
sweet young things with burning red cheeks ... writhing in pain and 
pleasure. . 

How do we explain them? 

Do we need to? Or, like humor, might they simply be something set before us 
that we react to, but which might vanish once subjected to the rigors of 
logical analysis? 

Who can say? 

Certainly not I. Despite my lifelong dedication to the study of sexual 
deviance, warped behavior and generally weird stuff, I must confess that I 
am no closer to an understanding of the phenomenon than when I first began. 

I can state with certainty, however, that no value judgment needs to be 
extended to these creatures. They are happy, and indeed, they too have the 
right to be given exactly the treatment they've learned to crave.. don't you 
think? 

So ... do as I do. 

Don those black leather gloves ... take their pretty hands, bind them 
together, strap them to the wall, the frame, the bench, the chair, the bed 
... whatever, and raise the whip, let it hover above them ... and then, 
bring it down, sharply. And revel in their screams.
