Bizarre Fetish: Innocent Victims Of Sadists
by Unknown


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

Contrary to popular belief, there exists within all of us, the desire to 
hurt and be hurt. This passion is usually buried under layers of social 
training and influence, but sometimes it can explode into uncontrollable 
wantonness. 

S and M, the passion to inflict pain and suffering, and to endure the same 
is one of the strangest forms of sexual activity ever studied. It is 
practiced more often than the average person would suspect, and our 
information concerning it is sketchy at best. 

Within these pages, we shall attempt to explore a bit of this strange and 
hidden activity. We shall learn first hand, what it is like to be the giver 
and taker of savage, brutal pain. 

Listen to a few of the voices that speak in this book: Carla W., twenty-one: 
"Each time she cried out, my flesh seemed to tingle with the most exciting 
pleasure I have ever known! I could not wait to strike again!" 

Mary S., eighteen: "At first the pain was unbearable, but soon I began to 
enjoy it, until I could not get enough of her whip!" 

Sylvia K., twenty-eight: "David struck me savagely with his fist, I tasted 
my own blood on my tongue and to my horror and shock, it tasted good!" 

Marta M., thirty: "I did not mind torturing her, ever since I was a child, I 
enjoyed hurting things, now I had the chance to explore my pleasure, 
freely!" 

From the recorded interviews with young women... 

 CASE HISTORY ONE 

SUBJECT: Carla W. AGE: Twenty-One 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Carla W. is in outward appearance a very typical and average-looking young 
woman. She is tall and slender, with a good, strong body that is attractive 
without being stunning. Only her upper arms reveal the strength she has. 

She came to my office on the advice of her boss, a mutual friend. She was 
not nervous at having to see me, though her irritation was evident from the 
start. 

She sat down beside my desk and crossed her legs, while lighting a cigarette 
with an expensive lighter. She blew the smoke away with a flourish and began 
speaking without allowing me the chance to make any sort of small talk 
whatsoever. 

Her voice was deep and rich, another trait of her more domineering nature 
that could not be masked by her rather demure appearance. I felt it wise to 
merely sit back and let her speak. 

* * * 

I want to tell you right at the beginning Doctor, that I do not believe 
there is anything wrong with me. I am no less normal than anybody else 
that's walking around, and probably more so. 

It is not my fault that some people enjoy being beaten as a prelude to 
sexual pleasure. I can not help that. Of course, being a bit of a lesbian 
can be used against me, also, but this is a modern time we are living in, 
and such things ought to be taken for granted, don't you agree. 

Let me begin by explaining a bit of my past. I was brought up in a very 
strict family. My father was a harsh disciplinarian, and you had to learn 
quickly his rules, or suffer for it. 

I was hardly beaten at all, compared to my sisters and by the time I reached 
my teenage years, he handed much of the task of punishing them over to me. 
To my surprise, I found I enjoyed administering discipline to my younger 
sisters. I can remember, with fondness, the first time I had to punish one 
of them. 

Though I had known the joy and rapture of punishment myself, I had no idea 
how delightful it would be, being on the other end of the belt. My second 
sister, Lila, had disobeyed my father's orders on some small matter, and he 
commanded me to give her a good, sound thrashing. 

As was his manner of administering punishment, I gathered the rest of the 
children in our big barn for the witnessing of the punishment. My father 
always set great store in having all of us observe another's discipline, he 
felt it helped to make his point if we all saw what happened. 

Lila was always getting into trouble and on this occasion she was more than 
a little worried and frightened. It was one thing, you see, to have my 
father beat her, for he was well experienced, but having me do it was 
another story. 

Even before we got to the barn she was terrified. "Please, Daddy, please do 
it yourself," she begged him. He was carrying her under his arm, and her 
little thirteen-year-old body was wiggling wildly in his grip. 

"Silence, you little bitch," my father growled as he threw her down into the 
large pile of hay in the far corner of the barn. "It's high time Carla took 
over some of my work in dealing with you children. You shall give your 
sister a chance to practice her new job!" 

I was trembling with excitement as I watched my father quickly tie Lila's 
wrists together with a thin piece of rope. She was snuffling and moaning, 
the tears running out of her eyes in wide rivers as he bound her limbs 
tightly together. 

He pulled the long, curved hook that hung from a chain over a rafter in the 
barn and slipped the hook under her bound wrists. She shivered as she stood 
there in front of him, then he backed off and began to work the pulley, 
slowly lifting her up off the floor. 

She screamed as her feet rose up from the wooden base of the barn, and 
twisted from left to right until only her toes were touching the surface. 
Her young body shuddered involuntarily, and watching her so helpless and 
terrified, I experienced my first sensations of sexual excitement. 

"Strip her, Carla," my father commanded me. "Strip the clothing from her 
worthless flesh and bare her to the rest of us!" 

God, how excited I became as I swiftly made my way over to where my younger 
sister was dangling from the hook. I tore at the buttons to her blouse, 
pulling them free and ripping the garment away in a frenzy. Her young, 
budding breasts quivered against the force of my actions and I felt an 
overwhelming urge to caress them. 

I put my mind on the task of removing her other clothing, and tore her skirt 
and panties away from her in an instant. Her pubic mound was bare almost, 
just covered with a light trace of silken down. 

Her buttocks were firm and lovely, and my hand brushed across them gently as 
I pulled her panties down to her ankles. I took a piece of rope from my 
pocket and tied her ankles tight, then stood up, feeling a powerful 
throbbing in the pit of my own young cunt. 

Lila was truly a lovely young girl, and though I did not understand my 
passions, I knew that I wanted to both caress and thrash the soft, enticing 
skin that was dangling helplessly in front of me. 

Her eyes were full of fear as she watched my father hand me the long, 
leather whip he used in cases of extreme punishment. To this day I can not 
remember what it was she did, only the excitement I experienced because of 
her wrong-doing. 

I loved the cold, brutal sensation of the whip in my hand, the coarseness of 
the hard leather handle, the way it pulled my arm down because of its 
weight. I balanced it in my grip and grinned at my poor, helpless sister 
savagely. 

"Do you want to do this, Carla?" he said in a brutal voice. "Do you wish to 
administer my punishment for me, now?" 

I nodded solemnly. It was an important moment in my life and I was as deadly 
serious as he was. "Yes, Father," I said, my voice choked in an anxious 
whisper. "I wish to do my duty for you, yes!" 

Lila sobbed loudly, her young, sensitive flesh quivering with terror, the 
sweat of fear now coating her body completely. I saw her naked pussy mound 
glistening with the dampness, and her pink, tiny nipple taut with 
excitement. 

"Let the first stroke be swift and hard," my father hissed. "Let it be 
clean, Carla! Give her the punishment she so richly deserves! Give it to 
her, now!" 

"Please, no, Carla, I beg you, no," cried Lila, but my arm was already in 
motion. 

Almost before the words left her lips, the whip sprung in an arch that was 
so powerful it almost tore the weapon from my hands. I watched the tip of 
the ugly tool flick against her breasts with a loud, nasty smack and then 
heard her agonized cry of pain. 

Her entire body jerked spasmodically from the blow, bucking back away from 
the whip, knifing upward as if to protect her already damaged flesh. She 
screamed in pain as I cracked the whip against her upraised thighs, forcing 
them down again. 

Savagely, now, I worked my way around her body. "You worthless bitch," I 
hissed, boldly daring to use my father's words. "You must pay for your 
disobedience!" 

I was behind her then, staring at her ripe, jutting buttocks, so tempting a 
target that it made my mouth water and my loins damp with excitement. I 
whirled the whip around my head and brought it down hard on her naked half 
moons. 

Lila screamed once more in agony and in an instant I saw the first of the 
welts bursting on her defenseless flesh. The lovely sight of deep, dark red 
made the passion surge inside of me, and I cracked the whip against her 
helpless cheeks once more. 

The sound of whip meeting flesh, followed by her tortured cries was more 
than I had expected. The effect on me was almost hypnotic. I tingled all 
over listening to the sounds. My whole body seemed alive with energy, now. 

I whirled the whip, savagely, around Lila's waist, then ripped it backward, 
leaving a thick, ugly stripe around her hips. I cracked the whip hard 
against her narrow shoulders, digging the leather deep into her flesh, 
opening up the first of many wounds. 

The blood dripped from the torn skin and I almost swooned with delight at 
seeing the thick, sticky fluid mar her creamy flesh. I lashed at her back 
once more with the whip, eager to break the skin again. 

"Ohh, God, please, Carla, please stop," Lila moaned, her head thrown back in 
agony, her lips drawn over her teeth in a savage snarl of pain. "No more, 
Carla, no more! Daddy, I'm sorry, make her stop! Make her stop, please!" 

I laughed, then, the throbbing becoming so intense in my cunt that I had to 
bear down on my legs to keep myself from trembling uncontrollably. I felt 
the warm, lovely spasms of pleasure tearing through me, now, and I increased 
my attack on my sister's defenseless body in excitement. 

How beautiful it was to see the welts and bruises spring up on her otherwise 
flawless skin. How delicious to see the creamy texture of her back and 
buttocks grow ugly and torn with the criss-cross marks of my attack. 

I watched the blood drip in fascination, my loins burning with passion, and 
I dropped one "of my hands to my cunt and kneaded my pussy, while I 
continued to strike her with the whip in my other hand. 

You would not think a mere fourteen-year-old girl could have the strength 
required to beat a child for a long time, but I did. Just holding the whip 
seemed effortless to me now, as if I gained more and more power from each 
blow I landed. 

Again and again I lashed out with the wicked, leather tool, my ears ringing 
with delight each time I heard the soft, wet kiss of it caressing her 
trembling frame. 

"Bitch, little whore," I cursed. "I'll teach you to disobey Father," I 
growled. "By the time I am through with you, you'll be sorry you were ever 
born!" 

The other girls watched me with increasing fear in their eyes. They had seen 
Father discipline us many times, indeed, had suffered in much the same 
manner, but I was something different. 

Father did not have much emotion when he beat one of us, he remained calm 
and controlled, not even raising his voice. I, on the other hand, grew more 
and more agitated with each blow I struck. 

My voice grew stronger and more passionate, it filled the barn with its 
harsh, cruel determination. I lashed at Lila wildly, now, cracking the whip 
against her body in a frenzy of passion and lust. 

It would be a couple of more years before I was to find out what sex was, 
and how my body responded in that way. All I understood at that point, was 
the fact that by beating my sister severely, a certain hot, pleasing fire 
raged in my secret pit. 

I rubbed at my pussy through my jeans and brought the whip down harder and 
harder on Lila's back and buttocks. I felt the spasms of pleasure ripping 
through me violently, then, making me quake and shiver, no matter how much I 
tried to hold myself still. 

My eyes became blurred with the excitement and pure passion I was feeling. I 
no longer saw clearly, but could only make out the shuddering white form in 
front of me, covered with stripes and blotches of red. 

I caught my father's eyes and they were blazing with what I learned later, 
was an excitement equal to my own. He smiled thinly, enjoying the show 
completely, happy to see his daughter performing her task so expertly. 

"Harder, Carla, hit her harder," he hissed at me. "I have not yet heard the 
scream of repentance come from her lips! Make the bitch cry for mercy, beg 
for my forgiveness! Harder, Carla, harder!" 

I was now totally caught up in the awesome delight of inflicting pain. Each 
blow I struck made me ache with pleasure. Each scream that was torn from my 
sister's quivering lips made the fires burn hotter in my cunt. 

I cracked the whip against her continually, my arm aching, but never pausing 
in a still stroke. I lashed at her again and again, until her body was 
nothing but a mar of welts and blood from her neck to her ankles. 

She twisted and turned on the hook, sobbing and groaning, her head rocking 
from left to right on her shoulders. "I am sorry, Father, please, please, I 
am sorry," she moaned thickly. "Forgive me, Father, ohhh, Daddy, please, 
please forgive me!" 

I cracked the whip viciously against the base of her spine, then, and the 
air in the barn was pierced by yet another tortured scream from her lips. 

"I deserved this, Daddy, I did," she wailed uncontrollably. "Ohhh, I'm sorry 
Daddy, please forgive me, I'm sorry, now!" 

My father ordered me to halt, but I hardly heard him and could not stop in 
any case. My cunt was pounding violently now, the aching desire reaching a 
feverish pitch in my loins. I lashed Lila again and again, feeling the 
delightful relief suddenly breaking through inside of me. 

My father pushed me to the ground, tearing the whip from my hands and I lay 
in the hay, rocking from left to right as the climax raced through me, 
consuming me with its powerful passion and tortured delight. Though it was a 
long time before I understood what had happened, I learned that day, the 
joys I could give myself by beating another woman, savagely. 

At this point in the interview, Carla seemed almost beyond control of 
herself. She squirmed in her chair as if she were reliving the experience 
and gasped her final words in a taut, aching tone of voice. 

I suggested she return the next morning for another interview, for I did not 
feel she could continue at that time. She eagerly agreed, obviously anxious 
to share her fascination and pleasures with someone else, and assured me she 
would be back the next day. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

True to her promise, Carla was waiting for me when I opened my office the 
next morning. She seemed hardly able to contain herself as I escorted her to 
my inner chambers, and once there, quickly resumed her place beside my desk. 

She needed no prompting to begin her story again, launching right into it 
before I even had a chance to sit down and get comfortable. 

* * * 

Ahh, Doctor, you can't imagine the joys I had during the years that 
followed. I became so expert at applying the lash to my sisters, that my 
father never had to discipline them again. 

I was distraught when I finally had to leave home after high school. I did 
not want to have to give up the sensual delights I experienced in giving my 
sisters the punishment they deserved. 

* * * 

All through college I ached for the chance to whip someone again, but it 
came only a few times, and then, because it was mostly in sport, I always 
had to temper my beatings, stopping just short of the real fulfillment of my 
passion. 

It was not until I took the job with the firm, that I was finally able to 
find an outlet for my passion. Since I have always been a hard worker, and 
resourceful woman, it was not long before I had people working under me, and 
I found my target in one of my assistants, Gloria. 

Gloria is the perfect example of what I need in a woman. She is meek, 
frightened of me, and willing to do anything to please me. She claims to 
want to get married some day and settle down with a man, but I know how much 
she needs me and the punishment only I can give her. 

I spotted this trait in her the first time I met her. She had milk blue eyes 
and quivered visibly as I interviewed her. I had never tried to recruit 
someone for my pleasures so boldly before, but I decided to try it out on 
her. 

I told her there would be extra duties to her job and if she still wanted 
the work, to come back to the office after closing. She agreed to my 
conditions, eager to please me, though afraid, it was clear, of what I 
wanted. 

That evening, I waited in the small gym we have in the basement of our 
building, so excited and eager, that I could hardly contain myself. I 
wondered if she would show up, and cursed myself for perhaps scaring her 
away by being too harsh with her, too soon. 

But then she arrived, her lovely eyes flicking about nervously. I barked at 
her to come over to where I was, which was standing beside one of the set of 
rings we have hanging from the ceiling. 

Gloria has a firm, compact little body and I almost drooled as I watched her 
come over to me. When she reached the place where I was standing, I hissed 
at her to strip off her clothing at once. 

This was the final test, I felt, and my heart raced as she fumbled with the 
buttons to her blouse, terrified, but willing to do anything to get the job. 

She was a weak, silly little simp and could hardly get the buttons free. I 
pushed her hands aside and did the job for her, then unzipped her skirt and 
forced it down over her soft, molded hips. 

"Get the rest of this crap off, bitch," I growled at her. "You will have to 
learn to move more quickly when I command you, than this!" 

She moaned softly, her eyes growing moist with fear and shame as she 
unfastened her bra, freeing her large, soft tits, and slithered out of her 
panties. I gazed at . her naked body, hungrily then, already imagining what 
it would look like after I had struck it a few times. 

I slipped her hands through the rings and tied them to the leather with a 
pair of scarves. She gasped as I tightened the knots, then bent down to tie 
her ankles together with a third, silken thong. 

"What... what are you going to do to me?" she stammered. Her voice was full 
of fear now, and the heat began to build in my loins because of it. 

I walked over to the motor that worked the rings and flipped the switch, 
slowly pulling her arms upward. "I'm going to have a little fun with you, 
cunt," I hissed at her, as I watched her body begin to strain against the 
rising rings. 

She gasped as she felt herself being lifted from the floor, and moaned 
deeply as her weight sagged against her bound wrists. She was shivering 
uncontrollably, now, sobbing with increasing pain. 

"Please, please, this hurts," she groaned, twisting her head around on her 
shoulders to stare at me. "I... it hurts too much! Let me down, please, let 
me down!" 

My laugh was short and savage as I removed the short-handled, multi-stranded 
whip from my locker. I made my way around in front of her, dragging the 
strands of the whip across the luscious curve of her hips. 

"Of course it hurts, scum," I chuckled cruelly. "It is supposed to hurt! 
That is your function here, to suffer from my pleasure, you stupid little 
girl!" 

"You're... you're going to beat me," she gasped, staring down at the ugly 
tool I held in my hand. "You mean to whip me, don't you?" 

I laughed viciously. "Of course, idiot," I growled. "And if you want this 
job, you had better be prepared for a lot more of it, too!" 

With that, I stepped back and whirled the whip around my head, lashing at 
her big, spongy tits before she had a chance to reply. The tips of the 
strands creased her tender nipples with a loud smack and she screamed in 
agony. 

Instantly her delicate little buds sprang up in aching erection and the 
creamy color of her boobs grew dark red from the effects of the blow. Her 
whole body jerked in response to the whip and her eyes went wide with pain 
and fright. 

"Ohh, God, please stop," she wailed, twisting and turning in a desperate 
attempt to escape my next blow. "It hurts, Miss Carla, it hurts, too much!" 

I sneered at her pleading tone of voice and cracked the whip against her 
soft, pulsating belly, flicking the edges of the strands neatly between her 
legs. Her cry of pain was music to my ears and the ugly blotches that 
instantly covered her soft, lovely flesh made my cunt pound even more 
wildly. 

"I'm not going to stop, bitch," I hissed at her. "You are going to suffer, 
do you understand? Suffer badly, until I have finished enjoying myself!" 

Once more I lashed at her defenseless body. This time I wrapped the whip 
around her firm, luscious thighs and allowed the strands to dig deep into 
her exposed flesh. 

My free hand was now beneath the short skirt I was wearing, fondling my own 
mound with increasing frenzy. I felt my cunt lips trembling violently and as 
I kneaded them passionately, the spasms of delight began to race through my 
inner chamber. 

I moved around behind the quaking girl and cracked the whip hard against her 
wide, naked shoulders. She screamed in agony once more, the cry of pain torn 
from her lips in a savage response to my brutality. 

I laughed in pleasure, and lashed her buttocks hard with the whip, thrilling 
to the way her tender half moons quivered under the blow, and the skin began 
to darken with the traces of the whip's assault. 

"Does it hurt, you worthless bitch?" I growled, cracking the whip against 
her lovely cheeks once more. "Are your suffering, you little pig?" 

"Ohh, Jesus, dear God, yes," she moaned, bucking forward as the whip crashed 
into the base of her spine, brutally. "Ohhh, Miss Carla, please, for the 
love of God, it hurts too much, too much!" 

The little fool thought she could escape her punishment by telling me what 
agony she was enduring. She was too stupid to realize that such cries of 
pain and pleading only served to excite me all the more. 

I listened to her begging voice, heard her sobbing of pain and began to lash 
her flesh with increasing violence and passion. I loved the sound of the 
whip cracking against her blood spattered flesh. The echo of leather meeting 
defenseless skin and slippery blood made me weak with wanting. 

My fingers drove at my cunt wildly, now, increasing the pulsating delight in 
my loins, bringing me nearer and nearer to an orgasm as I relentlessly 
brought the evil weapon down on her helpless frame. 

Her body was a mass of welts and bruises, now. I had beaten her more 
viciously than I ever had anyone else before. Her screams were no longer 
singular in response, but rather one long wail of agony, now. 

"The more you suffer, the better I feel," I told her cruelly. I wrapped the 
whip around her waist and pulled it free with a savage jerk. "Your pain is 
my ecstasy, pig! I want you to suffer, suffer unbearably, now!" 

She sobbed and shuddered. Even if I did not strike her, her whole body was 
so alive with pain by now, that it jerked and shuddered involuntarily under 
the awful agony she was experiencing. 

I could pause in a stroke and watch her quiver delightfully, moaning and 
gasping just as if I had struck her again. I could not contain my laughter 
of enjoyment, now, nor could I stop the fire that was raging in my cunt. 

"Ohh, God, God, Miss Carla," she gasped through tightly clenched teeth. "How 
much more, Miss Carla, how much more?" 

"I want to tear your flesh to ribbons, pig," I growled, laying the whip into 
her ravaged flesh anew. "I want your back to look like ground meat, scum!" 

Again and again I hit her with the whip. I was beside myself by now, 
thrilled by the sound of the leather crashing into her, and the sweet scent 
of her blood in my nostrils. My cunt was throbbing almost painfully by this 
time, my pussy lips quaking against my kneading fingers. 

Ahh, the pure pleasure of whipping her is almost impossible to describe. 
Just to hear her screams of tortured agony, and watch a whole new area of 
her flesh grow red and torn from the whip was almost more than I could 
stand. 

My cunt pounded fiercely, now, the awesome orgasm building feverishly in my 
pit. My inner walls quaked around my fingers as I plunged them inside, and 
the first spasms of impending release began to rip through me. 

This time I did not have to stop, I realized. This time I did not have to 
quit before I reached the ultimate in passion. I could beat her as long as I 
needed to, to achieve satisfaction, and I grew carried away with my vibrant 
lust. 

Harder and faster I brought the blows down on the little pig's helpless 
body. I no longer could hear her pleas for mercy, no longer could understand 
anything more than the aching need that was raging in my loins. 

I did not care, at that point, if I destroyed her. My cunt was burning with 
need, my pussy slippery and wet with juice and my arm continued to lash 
outward, bringing my blessed weapon down upon her relentlessly. 

The floor grew slippery with the blood that dripped from her wounds and my 
ears rang so loudly with her cries of pain that I began to hear nothing else 
but the tortured gasps and screams that came from her. 

I moaned and shuddered violently as I struck her flesh. Each blow seemed to 
draw me nearer and nearer to a moment of such powerful excitement that I did 
not know if I would be able to remain on my feet when my orgasm finally 
burst in my loins. 

I cracked the whip against her shoulders, savagely, now, thrilling to the 
wild arc of blood that splattered from her flesh and dotted the floor at her 
feet with rich, red pools. 

"Please, please forgive me," she screamed. "I'm sorry, Mistress Carla, but 
please forgive me, now!" 

Though I knew it was only the cry of a demented and pain-stricken young 
woman, I thrilled to her final pleas and shuddered violently as a powerful, 
uncontrollable spasm of relief ripped through me. 

I screamed myself, my voice thick with pleasure as the rolling ecstasy raced 
along my inner walls and the aching delight of climax consumed me. I struck 
her again and again as I shuddered in place, sobbing and gasping, even as 
she continued to scream in tortured pain and horror. 

Ahh, that climax was the fulfillment of my dreams, and just the beginning. 
Of course the little fool needs me to survive, all she can understand is the 
pain that I give to her. It is what she needs to exist. 

It is too bad that we were caught during our recent session together, but I 
am sure all of this problem can be worked out. I don't feel there is 
anything wrong with the way I choose to entertain myself and seek 
satisfaction, and certainly, little Gloria doesn't seem to mind it either. 
After all, she still submits any time I demand it, doesn't she? Now, what's 
wrong with that? 

CONCLUSION 

I could have said a number of things to Carla, but it was obvious to me that 
anything I might have told her would have been ignored. It was clear that 
the young woman was in need of serious treatment and I tried to convince her 
to seek out help. 

In any event, I do not recommend she be returned to her duties until she has 
demonstrated a desire to probe this fascination she has for sadistic 
impulses. Certainly the young girl Gloria should be protected from her, and 
I shall suggest this to Carla's boss the first time I have the opportunity 
to do so. Otherwise, I fear this affair will deepen into something very 
tragic indeed. 

 CASE HISTORY TWO 

SUBJECT: Mary S. AGE: Eighteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Mary S. was a bright, charming young girl that on first impression appeared 
not to have a care in the world. She was pretty and had a good figure, and 
one would think she had everything in the world going for her. 

When she first came to see me last spring, she was wearing a long-sleeved 
dress that covered her slender body from neck to ankles. I wondered why she 
would wear such a dress on a day like that, but after listening to her 
story, I realized clearly that she wanted to keep her body covered as much 
as she possibly could. 

She sat in the chair across from my desk and peered into my eyes as she 
spoke. Her voice trembled on almost every word, and it was apparent from the 
beginning that she was much more troubled than she seemed. 

* * * 

You are going to be shocked by what I tell you, Doctor, I know you are. I 
don't care how many weird stories you have heard in here, mine will jar you 
none the less. 

I know that on the surface I appear to be a normal young girl, but I'm not. 
That's why I'm here, Doctor. You see, I think that I am really sick. I think 
I might be going crazy, in fact. 

I'm afraid of a lot of things, Doctor, but mostly of myself, and what I will 
do to myself. Or rather, allow someone else to do to me. I never in my life 
would have believed I could enjoy the things I've been through, but that's 
exactly what is bothering me. I enjoy pain, is all. 

It started about two months ago when I began my second semester in college. 
I had lived a pretty normal life up until then, I mean, I never suffered 
very much as a child, and my parents did not spank me any more than usual. 

I guess I could trace my feelings back to that time. You see, I never really 
minded it when my Daddy spanked me. It hurt like hell, because he was a fair 
but serious man when it came to punishment. I mean, he didn't like to spank 
me, but if he felt I needed it, then he wouldn't hesitate to do it. 

But, you see, I liked it. I enjoyed the harsh, stinging pain in my bottom, 
the way my little buttocks would tingle with the hurt. Oh, I screamed and 
carried on, I cried as if I were really hating it, but deep down, I loved 
every minute of it. 

I never really thought about those times until lately, until I started going 
with Freddy. Now those spankings come back clearly, and I can see that even 
then I was hung up in pain. 

Freddy is a Doctor, you see, or at least, an intern. He has to deal with 
pain every day, and I really think it gets to him after awhile. I mean, 
seeing all those people suffering, especially the children, really has an 
effect on him. 

He has to take his frustration and rage out in some way, and on someone, and 
I guess that someone is me. Although I haven't minded it, after all, that's 
what I was there for, and I enjoyed it, too. 

My first indication that Freddy wanted to hurt me came one evening after he 
had a long day at the hospital. He was in a foul tempered mood, just looking 
for something to get angry at and when there wasn't any beer in the 
refrigerator for him when he got home, he hit the roof. 

"Jesus, you're worse than one of those fucking kids I have to deal with," he 
said disgustedly. "You can't do anything right, and you don't even live 
here, bitch!" 

Now, of course I had just come in and cleaned his apartment and made him 
dinner besides, but that didn't matter. He scowled at me and wouldn't let me 
even make him a drink, he was so angry. 

"I ought to teach you a lesson, you stupid slut," he told me during dinner. 
"I ought to give that fanny of yours a real working over!" 

When I heard that I started to shiver with a mixture of fear and excitement. 
It had been years since anyone threatened to beat me, and the familiar 
anticipation that I had forgotten about was returning powerfully. 

"Who do you think you are, my father?" I hissed back at him. I wasn't angry 
at all, I just wanted to goad him into something. "You just try and do 
something, Freddy, just try it!" 

Our conversation went back and forth like that all during dinner. He kept 
warning me he would do something, and I keep trying to get him to explode 
into anger and do it. 

In all the time we had been together, he had never even given me a friendly 
tap and now I wanted to push him into some form of violence so badly that I 
could barely control myself. It was everything I could do to keep from 
begging him to hurt me. 

"Watch your mouth, cunt," he hissed at me, finally. "Or I'll give you a 
little lesson I learned in school that you won't ever forget!" 

I laughed nastily. "What lesson," I taunted him. "You aren't man enough to 
give me a lesson, Freddy! You haven't got the guts to lay a finger on me!" 

That did it. He bellowed in rage and leaped from his chair, throwing his 
fist at me in a wide, long arch. I could have ducked but I allowed the punch 
to land on my temple, jarring my vision and knocking me from my chair. 

My head throbbed painfully, but I was so excited that it was more than 
thrilling. I didn't want to have to wait for another blow, so I started 
laughing at him, teasing him that he didn't hit so hard. 

Viciously he drove his foot into my side and a new area of pain burst to 
life in my body. I groaned thickly, rolling over and clutching the spot 
where he had kicked me, then I felt his fingers digging into my hair. 

"Okay, bitch, all right, you asked for it," he hissed viciously. "I'm really 
going to teach you a lesson, now. I'm really going to give you what's coming 
to you, you smart-mouthed little slut!" 

God, I was quivering with excitement, then. I felt him hauling me up by my 
hair and dragging me over toward the couch. I screamed and kicked, but not 
with that much effort, I was enjoying his abuse too much to try and escape. 

"You bastard, you prick," I moaned. "Let me go, don't you dare hurt me, you 
rotten creep! Let me go!" 

Of course, talking that way only got him more excited, which was exactly 
what I . wanted. I wanted to feel him spanking me, or at least doing 
something to my bottom, the lovely memory of my father's discipline was 
raging in my buttocks, now. 

He flopped down on the sofa and pulled me. roughly over his lap. "You want 
to be a nasty little girl, bitch," he growled at me. "I'll just have to give 
you a little lesson in good manners, pup!" 

I screamed as I felt his fingers flipping the hem of my skirt up over my 
hips, exposing my panties to his hands. He slipped his fingers into the 
waist band of my underwear and pulled them down to my knees, baring my taut, 
quivering buttocks. 

"Ohh, God, please don't spank me," I sobbed, twisting and turning in his 
lap, pinned by his strong forearm pressed against the base of my spine. "I'm 
sorry, I'll be good! Just don't spank me, please!" 

"Spank, hell," he grumbled. "I've got a hell of a lot more in mind for you, 
bitch! I'm really going to show you something, you worthless little crud!" 

I watched as his free hand slipped over the sofa to my sewing box and pulled 
it toward him. I had no idea what he was up to, but my blood began to chill 
as he flipped open the lid to the box. 

He pulled up a hand full of needles and pins and waved them at me. "You 
think a spanking is bad, bitch?" he laughed savagely. "Well forget about 
that, this is one trick you never dreamed of, baby!" 

He dropped most of the needles on the sofa beside him and kept one, long, 
shiny spear between his fingers. I gasped in shock and real terror now. This 
was a little more than I had planned on. 

"Ohh, Jesus, Freddy, don't," I whispered frightenedly. "I... please, I'm 
sorry, I won't do it again! But, don't Freddy, don't!" 

He wasn't listening to me, though. I could feel his cock getting hard with 
excitement against my quivering belly and I turned my head and watched as he 
brought the needle in his fingers down to my naked and trembling bum. 

"Ready for a little punishment, baby?" he chuckled cruelly. "You'd better 
be, because I'm gonna give you something to think about, cunt!" 

With that he jammed the needle deep into my right buttock and the pain 
seared me down to the bone. He drove the needle about an inch into my flesh 
and I screamed in agony, so sudden and fierce was the pain. 

Quickly he grabbed another needle and drove it into the flesh of my other 
cheek. Never had the pain been so fierce in my life and I began to squirm 
violently in his lap as the agony increased in my tender bottom. 

I was remembering all the other times with my Daddy, and he had never hurt 
me this bad. Freddy drove another needle into my buttocks and I cried out in 
savage torture, wailing as the pain grew and grew. 

The sensation of the needles driving into my ass was more than I expected. 
My buttocks felt as if he was applying white hot darts to them, twisting and 
turning them brutally into my skin. 

"Ohh, Jesus, Freddy, stop, stop," I sobbed, but he didn't seem to hear me. 
"Ohhh, God, I'm sorry Freddy but don't, please don't!" 

All my begging didn't seem to make any difference to him, though. He laughed 
cruelly and drove yet another needle into my fleshy half moon. Again and 
again he jabbed the tiny, sharp spears into my ass. 

God, how fierce the pain was. It throbbed so violently in my flesh that soon 
my whole lower body was jerking spasmodically in agony. Freddy seemed beside 
himself with delight in my torture, jabbing the needles in with a frenzy 
now. 

"How do you like it, bitch?" he cackled savagely, forcing another long, 
sharp dart almost three inches into my buttock. "How do you like this 
daddy's way of disciplining you, pig!" 

He was calling me names, twisting and turning the needles in my ass and I 
screamed wildly as he continued to abuse me. I could feel my buttocks 
dripping blood, now, the warm, sticky streams beginning to flow down over my 
quivering thighs. 

There were at least fifteen needles in my ass, now, and each time his hand 
brushed against them, the pain seared through me like a burning iron. I 
sobbed and shuddered in his lap, quaking uncontrollably as the pain grew 
worse and worse. 

The needles were hurting me so badly, by this time, that the tears were 
flowing from my eyes and I could hardly breathe with the agony I was 
enduring. But strangely, I felt myself eager for more of them, eager to feel 
the hurt even deeper in my flesh. 

I began to realize that I was actually enjoying the suffering and abuse. I 
felt my cunt begin to throb as he jammed another needle into my bum, the 
warm, enticing fire of pleasure beginning to rage in the depths of my pit. 

Up until that point I never really understood how much I liked being hurt. I 
was certain while growing up that it was just because of how much I loved my 
daddy, but now I knew that it was the pain itself I craved. 

I rocked from left to right in his lap, sobbing and moaning in a tortured 
voice. His hand brushed and flicked at the needles, moving them about inside 
my flesh and each action of his hand brought new, delicious areas of pain to 
my aching buttocks. 

"You need this, don't you, you scummy little pig?" he hissed at me. I felt 
his finger pressing down on a few of the needles and I jerked involuntarily 
against the savage pain. "You really want this punishment, don't you, slut?" 

I was sobbing breathlessly, but I knew it would do no good to argue with 
him, now. He could see right through me, and I was terrified that he would 
take the pain away if I lied to him, so I nodded wildly. 

"Ohh, Jesus, yes, Freddy, yes," I moaned thickly. "I'm such a rotten little 
girl! I need to be taught a lesson, I need to, yes!" 

I could hardly think straight with the pulsating agony in my ass, and the 
harsh, steaming fire in my pussy. I knew that I was nearing a moment of 
orgasm that I would have never dreamed of, and I desperately wanted him to 
continue. 

"Hurt me, Freddy, teach me a lesson," I sobbed, thrusting my buttocks up to 
his hands, urging him to twist and turn the needles in me. "Ohh, God, 
Freddy, the pain is so good, it's so wonderful! More, Freddy, more!" 

He laughed wildly, enjoying hurting me almost as much as I was enjoying 
being hurt. The powerful passion that was surging in my pit was 
unbelievable, then, and the savage agony that burned in my buttocks was more 
beautiful than anything I had ever dreamed of. 

I twisted and turned on his lap, consumed now with the angry desires that 
were raging in my cunt and bum. Never before had pain so overwhelmingly 
consumed me. Never had I felt such absolute bliss with such intense agony. 

I shuddered and sobbed as he moved the needles in my bottom, the roaring 
hurt finally bursting down deep in my flesh, forcing a powerful orgasm out 
of my cunt. As I came, he continued to move the needles around in my flesh, 
obviously delighting in my reactions, and by the time I was finished 
climaxing, I could hardly move at all. 

Mary was trembling violently in her chair by now. Her whole body seemed to 
be shaking from the telling of her story. There were tears in her eyes and 
her voice was choked and gasping as she told me what happened. 

She finally broke down into uncontrollable sobbing, and I gently suggested 
that we call a halt to the interview, then, and resume her story the day 
after next. She seemed to want to continue, but eventually accepted my 
suggestion, then left my office quite shaken by her ordeal, indeed. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When Mary returned to my office, she was calm and in control, but I could 
see that her self-loathing and horror at her passions were still terrifying 
her. She took her place across from me and folded her slender, delicate 
hands tightly together on the desk. 

I urged her to begin, calmly assuring her that she could stop whenever it 
got too much for her to go on. I doubted that she would, however, for it was 
obvious to me that she wanted to get all of it out as quickly as possible. 

* * * 

Ohh, Doctor, you can only imagine how I felt after that. I was sick and 
ashamed of myself, and thought for sure that Freddy would never want to have 
anything to do with me after that. 

I mean, I wondered what kind of sick and insane person I was to have enjoyed 
what he did to me. I couldn't sit down for a week after that, and my poor 
bottom ached day and night for much longer. 

Things seemed to calm down for a couple of weeks, though, and Freddy never 
mentioned what he had done until one evening he came home very late from the 
hospital. I had moved in with him by then, and felt a little worried about 
the time when he didn't show up for dinner. 

I made the mistake of calling the hospital to see where he was, and by the 
time he got home, a little drunk, he was very angry with me. He didn't liked 
being checked up on one bit, he told me. 

"You pull that stunt again, baby, and I'll have to give you another little 
lesson, like the last time, bitch," he warned me. 

Well, right away I started to ache inside. I mean, just like a sudden wave, 
the desire to be abused and hurt began to wash over me. I couldn't believe 
it myself, but I was trembling with excitement just to hear him threatening 
me. 

Almost without thinking, I answered him back. "The hell with you, creep," I 
hissed at him. "I want you here on time, asshole. I don't have to put up 
with this kind of shit!" 

Now, I really had no reason at all to say that, because if he wanted to have 
a few drinks after work, why shouldn't he? I knew that, and I knew that 
being bitchy would get him mad, that's why I said it. 

His face got all red and he stood in front of me, trembling with growing 
rage. I saw his fists cocking in anger, and noticed his trousers beginning 
to bulge at the front, also. 

I knew he got a bit of pleasure out of hurting me, too. He fucked me 
brutally after the last incident, and I was certain he was remembering that, 
too. 

"Why you little, rotten cunt," he growled, throwing a punch that caught me 
hard in the stomach. "How dare you talk to me that way? I'm in charge here, 
bitch!" 

I grunted in pain and doubled over, then his other fist exploded in the side 
of my head and I sank to my knees on the carpet. 

"I'm going to show you, bitch," he hissed, tearing at my jeans, now. "Jesus, 
am I ever going to show you who's boss around here!" 

I screamed and started kicking, only to excite him further of course, and 
his rage got control over him and he began to tear at my jeans with a savage 
fury. In just a few seconds he had them down to my ankles and he was 
slapping me viciously with his open palms, knocking me against the sofa. 

"Okay, bitch, you want some punishment from me, you'll get it," he hissed. 
He grabbed hold of my shoulders and pulled me down over his lap like the 
last time. 

"What... what are you going to do to me?" I stammered, hoping that I had 
just the right amount of fear in my voice. "Please, please don't hurt me, 
Freddy!" 

I felt him ride his zipper down and pull his growing shaft from his 
trousers, then he ripped my panties down and I felt the hot, expanding rod 
growing against my belly. 

He fumbled with the pack of cigarettes he had in his shirt pocket, pulling 
one of them free and jamming it into his mouth. He snarled at me as he lit 
the cigarette and puffed on it to get it going. 

"I know what you like", baby," he laughed cruelly. "You like daddy to take 
care of that ass of yours! Well's he's going to all right, and fuck your 
lousy little cunt at the same time, too, bitch!" 

His threatening words roared in my ears, making my bottom tingle with 
excitement, while my pussy began to pound with aching desire. The idea that 
he would fuck me and hurt me at the same time filled me with anxious 
anticipation. 

He rolled the cigarette between his fingers, bringing the glowing coal close 
to my blinking eyes. "You see this, cunt?" he snarled viciously. "Well, 
you're gonna find out another way to use a smoke, you little slut!" 

I shuddered as I watched him take his hand away from my face and slowly 
bring the bright red tip of the burning cigarette to the quivering mounds of 
my buttocks. I gasped as he held the tip just an inch from my flesh, his 
eyes watching my face, with mounting passion. 

I couldn't believe he was really going to do it, then suddenly he pressed 
the hot, searing tip of the cigarette against my tender cheek and the pain 
tore through my ass uncontrollably, worse than anything before. 

I screamed wildly as I felt the red-hot coal charring my flesh. The stench 
of my own skin smoldering under the cigarette filled my nostrils and I 
flopped about on his lap, helplessly, as he turned the burning smoke against 
my bum. 

His cock was rock hard, now, throbbing wildly as he pulled the cigarette 
from my flesh and quickly applied the tip to another area of my ass. Again I 
wailed in agony, thrashing violently on his lap as the intense pain grew in 
my helpless behind. 

This kind of pain was so overwhelming, that I could barely keep my senses. 
It consumed my flesh with an overpowering agony, and I screamed loudly, the 
tears of pain pouring from my eyes. 

"You little bitch, you scum," he hissed at me, now darting the cigarette 
against a lot of different places on my ass. "Boy, are you gonna pay for 
giving me shit, boy are you ever going to pay!" 

My whole body was being consumed with the awful sensations, now. My ass was 
on fire from the vicious burning cigarette, which he continued to jam 
against my flesh in a savage fashion. He did not seem to mind the smell of 
my scorched flesh at all, and from the way his cock throbbed against my 
belly, I could tell he was growing more and more excited as each moment 
passed. 

"How do you like this, baby?" he cackled almost insanely. He pulled my 
cheeks wide and forced the cigarette between them. "This ought to give you a 
nice thrill, you worthless little pig!" 

He allowed my cheeks to close against the cigarette and I wailed in agony as 
the burning coal was now trapped between them. I could not believe how 
painful it was. The pain was unforgiving and seared me deep and wide. I 
sobbed and shuddered on his lap, my legs quivering with the sheer intensity 
of my agony. 

He was laughing insanely, by now. His prick was pounding against my damp, 
sweating belly and his fingers were now savagely kneading my cunt petals, 
while he took yet another cigarette and resumed his attack on the outer 
portions of my buttocks. 

Now he was jamming his fingers deep into my cunt, twisting and turning them 
to pave the way for his cock, while one cigarette continued to burn between 
my cheeks, and he pressed the other against my fleshy half moons. 

God, the torture was so complete, so overwhelming that I felt as if I might 
faint from the beauty of my agony. I had never felt such ecstasy before, and 
my cunt was steaming with passion, eager to feel the brutal thrust of his 
manhood inside of it. 

"Ohh, God, Freddy, yes, more pain, yes," I sobbed wildly. "Fuck me, now, 
Freddy! Rape me, please! Hurt me, badly Freddy! Hurt me, badly, now!" 

My own voice filled the air with my savage yearning and he eagerly pulled 
apart the petals to my cunt and forced his huge, throbbing tool inside of 
me, then. I screamed as he squirmed upward, driving the big, hot weapon deep 
into my aching chamber. 

I shuddered violently under the cruel invasion. He was not going to pause 
for a single moment, not going to allow me to prepare for the penetration 
one bit. He wanted to hurt me and I wanted him to do it, too. 

I sobbed and shuddered as the cigarette smoldered between my buttocks and 
the other one jabbed savagely at my quivering buns. He ground his cock up 
into my cunt, laughing brutally as he buried himself to the hilt inside of 
me. 

"How do you like it now, you bitch?" he snarled at me. He reached beneath my 
body with his free hand and began to pinch and twist my nipples, cruelly. 
"How is that ass of yours now, scum?" 

I was crying uncontrollably, now. My body ached so badly I could hardly 
stand it, and the pain throbbed in my flesh with awesome force. My ass was a 
maze of burns and charred skin and I felt so overwhelmingly wonderful I 
could hardly speak. 

"Ohh, Freddy, yes, it's wonderful," I sobbed, wincing with delight as he 
gave one of my nipples a savage twist. "Ummm, it hurts so good, Freddy, so 
damn good! More, Freddy, hurt me more, more, more!" 

He rocked his prick back and forth inside of me and ground the cigarette 
hard in my fleshy behind. The stench of my burned flesh was hovering around 
our heads and my pain grew more and more delightfully intense as each moment 
passed. 

Never had I dreamed of such wonderful agony. Never had I ever imagined that 
I could suffer so marvelously. My whole body was now one huge mass of pain, 
and the thrilling ecstasy of my torture was overwhelming me. 

I felt his cock thrusting back and forth viciously, ripping and tearing at 
my cunt with brutal force. I moaned and quivered, sobbing with delight as 
each horrible, wonderful sensation consumed me. 

I knew that I could never hope to find such wonderful suffering again and I 
realized that I had to keep him ever close to me. I screamed in pain, let my 
voice pierce the air, sobbing wildly with the awful agony I felt. 

I felt his cock erupt in my cunt and felt him shuddering involuntarily as 
the hot, thick steam of come spurt from the tool. I ground my pussy down on 
the bursting rod and sobbed as his fluid filled my loins. 

He jammed the cigarette hard against my ass and renewed my pain, laughing 
with the pleasure of his savage abuse and the delight his orgasm was giving 
to him. 

"You little bitch, you love it, don't you?" he cackled wildly. "Well, don't 
worry, cunt, I'll hurt you, I'll hurt you again and again!" 

I screamed once more, Doctor, thrilling to the never-ending agony he was 
giving to me, and the wonderful promise he had just made. I could think of 
nothing more delightful or appealing than to continue with this savage abuse 
of my flesh for the rest of my life. 

So, now you see what I mean? I am ill, Doctor, my buttocks still haven't 
healed completely, and I know I will bear the scars for the rest of my life. 
You must help me, Doctor, must help me from doing this thing to myself 
again! I don't know where it will lead, but I am certain that I will really 
hurt myself if I don't get some help soon, I am sure of it! 

CONCLUSION 

Poor Mary could not go on at this point. She broke down completely, sobbing 
for several more minutes. I allowed her to cry herself out, then gave her 
something to calm her nerves and tried to talk to her. 

I urged her to seek professional help at once. I recommended a few people to 
her, and insisted that she see one of them. I tried to explain to her that 
this pattern of self-abuse would only grow worse, and that if she did not 
stop it, it would surely lead to disastrous results. 

I also urged her to move out of the apartment she shared with the young 
Doctor, for I believe that he is as much to blame for what has happened as 
she is. I can only hope she will take my advice. 

 CASE HISTORY THREE 

SUBJECT: Sylvia K. AGE: Twenty-Eight 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Sylvia K. is beautiful, a woman who would make any man's head turn when she 
passed by. She obviously knew of her own beauty, given the graceful, 
enticing manner in which she carried herself, but was not one to boast of 
her charms, either. 

She was recommended to me by one of my patients and I agreed to see her late 
one evening last fall. She was smiling brightly as she entered my office, 
giving me the impression that whatever was troubling her must be rather 
minor in degree. 

When she sat down, though, I could see the deep, dark circles under her 
eyes, indicating a lack of sleep, recently, and her hands trembled as she 
lit a cigarette and puffed on it nervously. 

Trying to make her feel relaxed, I told her to just begin her story anywhere 
and take her time in telling it to me. 

* * * 

I'm telling you, Doctor, I am really starting to worry about myself. I mean, 
I have been involved in a lot of crazy things before, but this is by far, 
the craziest. 

I don't know if you have ever gotten into the situation where you enjoyed 
feeling pain, but recently that has happened to me. In all my life I would 
not have imagined I could feel that way, but now I do. 

It all started about six weeks ago. I had been feeling a little ache in my 
jaw for about two months and though I wasn't worried about it, I really 
didn't mind it, I thought I had better get it looked into. 

I take pride in how I look and the last thing I wanted was something wrong 
with my teeth. So, like a good little lady, I trotted myself off to the 
dentist. He was a new guy in town and a couple of my girl friends swore by 
him. 

I had never had much problem with my teeth, I didn't have a regular dentist, 
so I decided to rely on their advice and recommendations. 

His name was Don and Jesus, what a good-looking guy. He was built like a 
football player, with hands so big, you wondered how he could get them 
inside your mouth. He was quite a charmer, all right, and I felt relaxed and 
comfortable with him at once. 

When he got me into the chair, he began to probe with the little curved tool 
and he hit a sensitive place and I yelped. He chuckled softly and leaned 
over me, pressing his arm against my chest to hold me in the chair. 

"Listen, what you have to . do about the pain," he whispered softly. "Is get 
into it. People fight it so much that it really gets to them. Just try to 
get into the pain a little bit, you might find you like it!" 

Well, I couldn't believe that, but the next time he tapped at my filling, I 
gasped, but didn't try and pull away. I was kind of aware of his arm against 
my breasts, moving back and forth in a leisurely manner, taking my mind off 
my teeth for a bit. 

He turned the probe against one of my sore fillings again and this time the 
pain shot through me like a knife. I screamed out loud, trying to break free 
from the chair but he pushed against my breasts with one hand, and began to 
strap me in with the other. I was in such agony, I didn't really realize 
what was going on until he had already bound one strap over my chest and was 
working feverishly on my wrists. I was really getting scared, now. I was 
kicking wildly, screaming at him to let me go, but he just laughed at my 
struggles and finished with my wrists, then quickly bound my ankles to the 
foot plate of the chair. 

I was helpless now, and he leaned over me, smiling viciously. "You're gonna 
be a little hard to convince, I see," he chuckled coldly. "I suppose I'll 
have to secure your head, too!" 

I opened my mouth to scream again and in moments he had slipped clips inside 
of it, prying my jaws open and holding them that way. He worked a tight 
metal band around my head and forced my head to tilt way back. 

I gulped frantically as he picked up the probe again and waved it back and 
forth in front of my eyes. "Now, you have to relax," he said, cooing as if 
he were about to stroke my breasts. "If you don't relax, you can't enjoy the 
pain a bit. The more you fight it, the less you can get into it!" 

I gurgled wildly, trying to communicate with him, unable to believe this was 
happening at all. I lowered my eyes as he slipped the probe into my mouth 
once more, and then began to dig at a cavity I didn't even know I had. 

God, the pain was like a bolt of lightning going through my skull. He just 
dug a little with the probe and my scream of agony tore through my ears with 
a piercing fierceness. I shuddered so violently in the chair, that even 
though I was bound, I almost flipped him off of me. 

"Easy, now, baby, easy," he whispered, unbuttoning my blouse and slipping 
his hand inside of it. I felt his strong, firm fingers shoving my bra aside 
and cupping over one of my quivering globes. 

"Come on, now, honey, get into it, deal with the pain and the pleasure I'm 
giving to you," he urged me. "You'll like it, once you accept it, you'll 
see!" 

He kneaded my boob tenderly while jabbing at my sore tooth with the probe. I 
cried out in pain and shivered as I felt him pinching my nipple gently at 
the same time. The two sensations raced through me, though the pleasure was 
hardly any match for the agony in my mouth. 

I sat there in the chair, as stiff as a board, unable to accept what was 
happening to me. I could not believe that I was having my breasts fondled by 
a man that was also digging into my tooth at the same time. 

I began to cry, then, tears welling up in my eyes as the awful hurting in my 
tooth increased. I shuddered again as he probed deeper, gasping and choking 
as the scream of agony I released caught in my throat. 

His fingers continued to massage my boob, rolling my flesh in his palm, 
kneading me in the most gentle and tender fashion I had ever felt. In 
contrast to the pain he was inflicting on my mouth, was this sensual caress 
he was giving me, and it threw me completely off balance. 

I moaned and sobbed, trying desperately to turn my head away, but I could 
not move, given all the prying vises and straps that held me fast. I was 
completely immobile, totally at his mercy. 

"Umm, gonna have to drill that one," he said sternly. He flicked the sharp 
point of the probe at my cavity again and I bucked once more against the 
savage pain. "Yes, going to have to drill deep on that little number!" 

My eyes went wide when I heard that. He was actually whistling as he climbed 
off of me and went about arranging the tray beside him. I gazed at him in 
shock and horror, my body pouring sweat from my pours, now. 

He held the drill up to show me. "Now you are really going to have to settle 
down little lady," he chuckled as if he were talking to a child. "I'll do 
all I can to help you, but it's really up to you." 

He reached down and pushed my skirt up around my hips, then smiled at my 
flowered panties. He said they were cute, and slipped his fingers into the 
waist band. I moaned in shame as I felt his fingers brushing over my mound 
and shivered as he gently drew my panties down to my knees, exposing my cunt 
completely. 

"Now, I have a lot of work to do here, honey," he said, pulling up a chair 
and settling down into it. "So just take it easy and enjoy yourself. Feel 
the way the pain and pleasure will mingle until they are so close you can't 
tell them apart." 

He flicked on the drill and it started to whir, while his hand dropped to 
the rim of my quivering vagina and he tickled my furry mound lazily. I could 
not escape the warm, and actually pleasing sensation of his fingers 
exploring the rim of my hillock, but I could not take my eyes off the 
approaching drill, either. 

He gazed at me sternly, then bent down over my mouth. I gasped as he pushed 
the spinning drill into my pried open cavity and in a few seconds I felt the 
drill spinning against the dark spot of my cavity. 

I screamed as a red mist of pain shrouded my eyes and the burning torture of 
the drill cutting into my tooth grew and magnified in intensity. I had been 
in a couple of accidents, had broken a limb once in my life, but nothing had 
prepared me for this. 

The pain was unrelenting. It took complete possession of my senses. I wailed 
in agony, twisting and turning in the chair, but he did not stop for a 
single instant, and increased the movement of his fingers at my crotch. 

I felt them probing my cunt lips, even as he bore down on the drill driving 
the awful bit into my throbbing tooth. The agony was so intense I thought I 
was going to faint, and I began to feel as if the pain was the only thing I 
had ever known. 

"See how it takes control," he whispered urgently. "See how marvelously 
overwhelming it is? Ahh, isn't the pain beautiful, isn't it thrilling, 
little love?" 

I was screaming savagely, now. My eyes flowing with tears, my whole head on 
fire with pain. Uncontrollably I began to sink deeper and deeper into it. 
The experience was so intense and consuming that I did not know how to deal 
with it anymore. 

Never had any sensation, nor any emotion, either, enveloped me so 
completely. I rocked violently in the chair, still trying to escape the 
agony, but I could feel myself being devoured by the pain now, totally swept 
away by it. 

Busily his fingers massaged my pussy, riding in and out of my now damp and 
slippery passage. I forgot all about my embarrassment and shame at having 
him touch me. By now I had no thoughts of emotion, pure sensation was all 
that I could understand. 

The pain washed through my body like a falling wave. It began in the center 
of my mouth and moved outward, gaining more and more territory as it went 
along. 

The drill spun deeper and deeper into my tooth, cutting into the very pulp 
itself and soon I knew nothing but the awesome agony and the powerful 
throbbing in my loins. 

I did not know where I was any longer. I was lost in a sea of twisting and 
turning sensation. My head felt as if it were swollen to three times its 
size and my cunt was strangely on fire with a burning fever. 

Don bore down on the drill now, laughing softly as he spoke. "Ahh, I can 
tell it's taking over, honey," he cooed lovingly, peering into my mouth 
intently. "Soon you won't have anything left to worry about, soon you'll be 
thrilling to each savage spasm that you feel!" 

I wanted to argue with him, scream at him that he was a monster for doing 
this to me, but I had lost all the will to fight him, even in my mind. I was 
so confused by pulsating agony, so overcome with the throbbing pain, that I 
knew very little other that what I was feeling, by then. 

He laughed in delight as I shuddered under his work and moved the drill back 
and forth in my tooth, cleaning away the last of the cavity. The red mist 
was shimmering in front of my eyes and I was no longer shocked by the savage 
and brutal effects of his drill. I was growing used to it. 

I would never have believed it possible, but I was getting more and more 
relaxed with the pain as each horrible second passed. I felt the intense, 
aching hurt ravaging my jaw, but it no longer drove me mad. 

It was almost comforting in a way, as if something I had missed all my life 
but now was finally getting the chance to encounter. The pain did not leave 
me for a moment, but the agony of it became almost enjoyable, even as he 
drilled away the last bit of my cavity and cut deeper still with the 
spinning tool. 

He pulled the drill from my mouth and sprayed out the hole with a water gun. 
The sharp, jarring spray made me scream anew, but his fingers were deep 
inside of me, now, pumping back and forth in a rhythmic fashion. 

"Just remember, little lady," he chuckled softly as he began to force the 
metal putty that was the filling into my tooth. "They are both the same, 
pain and pleasure. They are both the same." 

I sobbed softly as he packed the filling in tightly, driving his fingers 
faster and faster into my cunt. He tapped down the filling at last, firming 
it into place just about the same moment that a harsh, overpowering orgasm 
swept through my pussy and made me scream with aching relief. 

I shuddered violently in the chair and he continued pumping his fingers in 
and out of me for awhile, then stood up once my spasms subsided. He 
straightened my clothing, and undid the straps from my arms and legs. 

He released me from the chair, finally and I got to my feet, so shocked and 
shaken, I could barely walk. He escorted me to the waiting room, giving me 
an affectionate pat on the buttocks. 

"Come in next week," he told me. "We have a lot of work to do." 

I left the office, so dazed that I was hardly able to find my way to my car, 
and by the time I got home, I still hadn't gotten over what happened, though 
my tooth throbbed enough to remind me that it all had been real. 

Sylvia could hardly speak at this point. Her eyes were almost glazed and I 
thought it best to interrupt her, then, and allow her some time to calm 
down. I offered her another appointment for later in the week, but she 
begged me to let her continue. 

I suggested we take a break for now, and had her go out for a walk while I 
studied the notes I had taken on the case so far. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When she returned in about an hour, I was still trying to piece together 
what little I had learned. She seemed more in control, now, but it was 
obvious to me that she was on the edge of a bad breakdown. 

She desperately needed to tell someone about this and quickly, so without 
trying to probe for any more details, I urged her to sit down and begin 
again at once. 

* * * 

As you can well imagine, Doctor, I didn't get much sleep that night. I was 
in such a daze that I didn't know how to think. I mean, any sensible, normal 
person probably would have gone straight to the police after such an 
incident. 

But I just lay in bed wondering what had happened, and worse, why I had 
started to enjoy myself. Yes, I did. My jaw throbbed all through the night 
and I thought about it, and couldn't escape the fact that I was growing to 
like it. 

More and more I found myself wanting to return to the office as quickly as 
possible. I couldn't believe it myself, but it was true. Every time I 
thought about being strapped in that chair, him leaning over me and rubbing 
my cunt while he worked on my mouth, I found myself aching to experience it 
again. 

I was almost in a hypnotic state when I went back to Don's office the 
following week. I could hardly sleep the night before, wondering what he 
would do to me in the morning. I masturbated that evening, but it didn't 
even come close to the excitement I had felt in the chair. 

The next morning I put on my shortest, sexiest skirt and a shocking 
see-through blouse. I knew I was going to draw stares in the street, but I 
didn't give a damn, it was Don that I was dressing up for. 

When I got to his office I waited rather impatiently for my turn. He came 
out at one point, saw me sitting there, and nodded, a big grin on his face. 
The next thing I knew, he was calling me in ahead of everyone else. 

He sat me down in the chair and it was all I could do to restrain myself 
from grabbing at the straps to tie them myself. He laughed and tilted my 
head back, ordering me to open wide. 

"Humm, I think we have some trouble here," he said casually, flicking the 
hooked probe against a tooth that had been bothering me off and on for 
years. 

He struck a sensitive spot and I shrieked, kicking my legs wildly as the 
pain shot through my jaw, flipping my skirt up above my knees. He laughed 
and smoothed the skirt back down, pressing the heel of his hand against my 
cunt mound. 

"Easy, baby," he cooed softly. "You got a bad tooth there, I don't think we 
can save it!" 

I shuddered and blinked my eyes. "Does that mean... will it have to come 
out?" I asked him anxiously. I was already sweating heavily and the thoughts 
of what he might do to me were whirling in my mind. 

He nodded gravely. "Yes, little lady, I am afraid so," he said, his voice 
stern and cold. "I'll have to pull that bad tooth at once!" 

God, what a mixture of fear and excitement raced through upon hearing that. 
I trembled violently in the chair, shivering out of control as he 
methodically began to strap me in. I felt him tighten the wide leather band 
across my chest, and I laid my arms down flat on the chair for him to bind. 

After he had secured my feet, he slipped the metal band across my forehead 
and fit the vises in my mouth to hold it open. He was not whistling this 
time, he was all business and I began to fear that he might want to give me 
something to kill the pain, and that wasn't why I was there. 

"Will... will it hurt very much?" I said, unable to keep from stammering. My 
belly was doing somersaults, jumping like crazy and my voice betrayed my 
fears. 

"Yes, of course it will," he nodded gravely. "It will probably hurt like 
hell! Worse than the last time, I expect. But you know what to do with that, 
honey." 

I nodded weakly. I was wondering if I had better be thinking about backing 
out. I was terrified of course, my body felt weak and queasy, and I wasn't 
all that sure that I wanted to go through with this. 

He noticed the look on my face and smiled coldly. He placed a series of 
instruments on the movable tray beside the chair and picked up the probe and 
a mirror, now. 

"Don't think you can get out of this, baby," he chuckled softly. "I am a 
professional, I see my job through. You're just going to have to get used to 
the fact that I intend to pull that bad tooth right now!" 

I moaned loudly as he settled down in the seat beside the chair and bent 
over me. I saw the mirror and probe go into my mouth then he was jabbing at 
my bad tooth with the silver probe. 

I screamed as the pain shot through my jaw, a blinding, stinging agony that 
made me shut my eyes against the throbbing hurt. I sobbed loudly and he 
danced the end of the probe around the edges of the tooth again. 

"Easy now, baby, easy," he cooed lovingly. "This is just the beginning. You 
have to settle down, little girl! Get with that pain, enjoy it, why don't 
you?" 

"Ohh, God, it hurts, it hurts," I moaned, my voice garbled by the vises that 
held my jaw apart and the small suction he had placed in the right side of 
my cheek. 

"Of course it does, silly," he muttered disgustedly. "It's supposed to hurt, 
what's the point of all this, if it doesn't?" 

He sighed and reached over to the tray. I watched with my heart pounding as 
he lifted a small pair of pliers from the tray. His free hand reached down 
and fumbled with the buttons to my blouse, pulling them free and exposing my 
heaving breasts. 

"You have lovely little tits, you know," he chuckled softly, brushing the 
palm of his hand over them, making them grow firm and rigid under his 
caress. "I think you have one of the loveliest bodies I have ever seen!" 

His hand wandered down over my belly and slithered under my short skirt. I 
felt his fingers tugging on my panties and I lifted my ass up off the chair 
to help him slide them down over my thighs. 

He laughed in delight and quickly worked my panties down to my knees, then 
cupped his hand over my quivering, damp mound. I groaned as I felt his 
fingers moving through the hair that covers my pussy, tugging and teasing 
the strands in a gentle manner. 

"Now the fun begins, hummm, little girl?" he chuckled softly. "Now you're 
going to have the thrill of you life, honey! More pain and pleasure mixed 
together than you ever dreamed of! Get ready, baby, this is really going to 
make you scream!" 

I gasped as I watched the hand that held the pliers coming toward my open 
mouth. I could not keep from shuddering violently as he bent over me, his 
free hand kneading my cunt even harder, now. 

I felt the teeth of the pliers fastening against my tooth and immediately 
the pain raced through my mouth in a savage fashion. As he clamped down hard 
on my throbbing tooth, getting as firm a grip as possible, I began to see 
stars in front of my eyes from the intensity of the pain. 

I screamed loudly as he gave the tooth a short tug, never having felt 
anything so bad in my life. I was jerking about in the chair, thrashing 
against the straps and band that held me, my body reacting out of my control 
to the torture he was giving to my mouth. 

"This bastard's in deep," he grunted, flexing his fingers and getting 
another grip on the tooth. "Might even have to use two hands, for it!" 

I was screaming uncontrollably, now. His free hand was kneading my cunt 
frantically, at this point, slithering his fingers over my clit and 
trembling cunt lips, sliding two digits in and out of me. 

But I barely noticed his fingers down there, the pain was so overwhelming in 
my mouth. It throbbed in my jaw like a pounding hammer, and drove deep into 
my bone, making my whole head hurt from the force of it. 

He began to pull on the tooth at this point, yanking hard, while twisting 
the pliers against it at the same time. Gasping wildly, I sobbed in agony, 
my jaw feeling as if he were rubbing a white-hot iron against it. 

The pain swirled around my face and head, enveloping me more and more. Never 
had I ever felt anything this bad, this intense and I could not escape it in 
any way. Desperately I thrashed against my bonds, sobbing and crying out in 
a long, continual wail of pain. 

He smiled cruelly and pulled harder on the stubborn tooth, savagely twisting 
it against its roots once more. I lost track of everything, now. The pain 
was all that I knew, all that I could deal with. 

It roared through me uncontrollably, forcing me to think of nothing but it. 
I was so much a part of my pain, that I felt as if I had never experienced 
any other sensation than the awful, pounding hurt in my jaw. 

It was as if the pain was all there ever was, the only thing that mattered. 
It grew and grew with a fierce savagery, totally consuming me, wiping out 
every thought or feeling I had ever had before. 

It was the only thing, for me now. Pain was all I understood any longer. The 
vicious, red-misted pain danced in front of my blinking eyes, and the 
powerful, throbbing feeling overwhelmed every part of my body. 

"Is it good, honey?" Don asked lovingly, twisting the pliers again with a 
vicious turn of his wrist. "Is the pain wonderful, my dear?" 

I screamed wildly, gasping and nodding as best I could in the tight grip of 
the metal band around my head. "Yes, ohhh, God, yes," I sobbed wildly. "Ohh, 
the pain, the pain is marvelous, marvelous!" 

I did not know whether he could understand me with everything in my mouth, 
but he nodded abruptly and began to tug harder on the firmly embedded tooth. 
The pain grew and grew to unbelievable dimensions. 

The worse it got, the more I was thrilled by it. I could not see anymore, 
nor could I even hear very well beyond the continual wail of my screams. I 
was so totally caught in the grip of my agony that everything else was 
blocked out. 

He pulled harder and harder on the tooth. I thought I might faint from the 
pure intensity of the pain. I could already taste the blood in my mouth from 
my torn gum and I could feel the movement of the tooth in its bed. 

From somewhere far away, he was telling me that it was coming loose, would 
soon be out and I was almost disappointed, for that meant the pain would 
soon stop. I wanted to scream at him, then, to yank them all, every one of 
them. I didn't want this beautiful suffering to ever end. 

My own screams were all I heard, now, my own sobbing agony was that only 
sound that penetrated my ears. I was thrashing so wildly in the chair, that 
he had to pin me down with his hand, jamming two fingers deep into my cunt. 

I don't think he even had to massage my pussy any longer, by then, for I 
could feel the pain bringing up an orgasm in me from its sheer intensity 
alone. I was now assaulted by the savage pain and likewise by the pounding 
pleasure in my cunt, and I realized at once that I was getting all my 
satisfaction from the hurt that was tearing through my mouth with such 
violent force. 

He braced himself against me, then, and pulled with all his might on my 
unyielding tooth. I twisted and turned with agony, feeling it slowly working 
loose, coming free from my gum and roots, gushing blood from the wound 
filling my mouth and running over my open lips. 

A blinding light sent me swirling in the sea of agony then, and I heard his 
cry of triumph as he gave the tooth one last tug that made me weak with 
pain, and the tooth finally came free. 

I screamed savagely as he pulled it from my mouth. I sobbed and shuddered 
and felt a violent orgasm suddenly ripping through my cunt with an 
overpowering delight. 

I rocked and swayed in the small chair, sobbing with agony and delight, my 
whole body consumed by the pain, and the pleasure it had produced. How long 
I trembled before settling down, I can not remember, but it felt like an 
eternity before my shattered senses returned to me, again. 

He packed the open wound with cotton to dry up the blood and finally 
released me from the chair. I sat there, quivering, completely exhausted by 
the experience. When I had finally regained enough strength, he made me 
another appointment for the next week, and sent me home, more satisfied than 
I had ever felt before in my life. 

I have been back three times, now, Doctor, and I am at a loss as to what to 
do. I don't want to suffer like this, but I can not seem to help myself. 
Ohh, God, I am so eager to feel pain, that once he is through with me, I 
don't know where I will turn next. You must help me Doctor, you must. I 
don't want to go on like this, I am too afraid of what will happen to me. 

CONCLUSION 

Sylvia was obviously distressed by this point. She put up a brave front but 
I could see she was near to breaking down completely. I allowed her some 
time to calm down, then recommended several people she might go to see for 
help. 

I urged her to seek out someone at once, before this obsession of hers got 
completely out of hand. I told her that it was one thing to experiment with 
pain as an instrument of pleasure, now and then, but that in her case, it 
had gone way beyond that and had every possibility of becoming something 
truly dangerous. She promised to contact one of the people I had mentioned, 
at once, and she seemed to have a better grip on her fears by the time she 
left my office. It made me feel good to think that I had helped, in some 
way, to straighten things out. I wish her the best of luck. 

 CASE HISTORY FOUR 

SUBJECT: Marta M. AGE: Thirty 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Often in my work, I encounter someone so completely sure of themselves, that 
no amount of discussion will be able to change their minds. Such a person 
was Marta M. A short, heavy blonde woman whose particular form of excitement 
both fascinated and repelled me. 

She was ordered to see me after being arrested at the school she worked for 
in the country outside the city. The school had been a private institution 
for young girls preparing for college and she had been an athletic teacher 
there. 

She was surly and short with me, refusing to talk at all until I reminded 
her that failure to do so, could result in prison for her. Finally she 
agreed to tell me her story, though quite reluctantly, indeed. 

* * * 

I do not know why I have to be subjected to such abuse, Doctor. I am not a 
sick person. Other's may have their opinion, that is their right, but I know 
myself. I am a good teacher and I do my job as it should be done. 

Perhaps when people realize how much discipline children need, how severely 
they must be dealt with, others like me will not have to endure such 
humiliation. 

It is always the same, in the beginning they say they love you, they want 
you to take a firm hand, but then, when you do, they cry about abusing the 
children. 

They are fools. I put each of my girls to the test and they either pass or 
fail. I let them know their place, all right. By the time I am through with 
them, they don't give anyone a hard time, I assure you. 

Everything was fine for a year, until this little bitch Lucy came along. She 
was older than the other girls, always egging them on to do bad things. I 
knew she was the source of my troubles in the gym, so I set a trap for her 
and caught her in the act. There was no way she could get out of it this 
time. 

Girls are not allowed to swim after classes. But she would sneak down with a 
few of them and go into the pool anyway. Knowing this, I waited one evening, 
and sure enough, Lucy and half a dozen girls showed up. 

I waited until all of them were in the pool, splashing and carrying on, then 
I came out and turned on all the lights. They screamed and ran for the door 
but I had already locked that, they were trapped. 

"So, you want to disobey me," I growled at them, after I had lined them up 
along the side of the pool. "Okay, you have to pay the price, now, little 
bitches!" 

Lucy, the ring leader, of course, was standing at the end of the line, 
looking like the haughty, self-centered little bitch that she is. I made my 
way to the end of the line and told her to strip. 

"I don't have to strip for you, you lezzie," she hissed at me. 

The other girls gasped in shock, then screamed as I cocked my fist and drove 
it hard into the little slut's face. I was quite pleased when she fell back 
against the wall and I saw her lip bleeding from my punch. She deserved it. 

"I will show you what happens when you speak out of turn, bitch," I said. "I 
am going to make you sorry you ever said that!" 

She was wearing a little bikini and I reached out, hooked my fingers in the 
front of her top and yanked it free. She cried out as the small halter came 
away from her, exposing her young, round breasts. 

The little globes bobbed sweetly, I remember, her tiny nipples already erect 
from the chill in the air. Her adorable body was covered with goose bumps 
and I am not afraid to say that I was stimulated by what I saw. 

She covered her breasts with her arms and I reached down into her bikini 
trunks and tore them off of her with a savage pull of my arm. She rolled 
away from me, her tight little buttocks quivering delightfully, her eyes 
wide with fear and shock. 

I must admit there is nothing more exciting to me than a soft, naked little 
lady, shivering with fear. I find it very stimulating to see the little 
sluts that way, they come from so much money, they need to be put in their 
place now and then. 

Now little Lucy was cowering against the wall, her knees drawn up to her 
chest, the fear showing in her eyes and trembling, bloody lips. "What... 
what are you going to do to me?" she whispered anxiously. 

I turned to the rest of the girls. "Get your towels, sluts," I hissed at 
them. "You wanted to follow her, you shall be the ones to discipline her!" 

Terrified of me, they raced to the bench where their towels were lying and 
quickly returned to where I was standing over Lucy. I hissed at them to get 
the towels wet and they dipped them in the pool. 

I had them wring the heavy towels out, twisting them tightly. I took one of 
the buckets that lay beside the pool and dipped it full of water. This I 
dumped over Lucy's quivering body, getting her wet once more. 

I reached over, then, and curled my fingers in her long, thin strands of 
hair. I pulled her to her feet and she screamed as I forced her to rise. She 
was standing in front of me, shivering and moaning softly and I slapped her 
violently across the face a few times to make her even more afraid. 

"You have been a nasty little girl,' I growled at her coldly. I reached down 
and pushed her hands away from her breasts, then took hold of one of her 
nipples and pinched it roughly between my thumb and forefinger. 

"You need a good spanking, you worthless little bitch," I said quietly. "And 
these young ladies shall give it to you!" 

I turned and smiled at the other girls. "She is going to walk up and down in 
front of you, ladies," I told them. "I want you to hit her as hard as you 
can with those towels, until I tell you to stop." 

I warned them that if they did not strike her with all their might, then 
they would take her place, one by one. The girls looked at each other, then 
at the now sobbing Lucy, but said nothing. 

"Get going, slut," I hissed and slapped her hard on the buttocks with my 
palm. I do not know if you have ever been struck on your flesh while wet, 
with a damp towel, Doctor, but let me assure you, it is rather painful. 

It stings deep, much worse than you would expect, and I knew that Lucy was 
aware of this, also. Nevertheless, I pushed her forward and she slowly made 
her way down toward the waiting girls. 

The first girl, one that I knew was in competition with Lucy for the girl's 
loyalty, whirled her towel around her head and struck the girl hard on the 
buttocks, her blow given with obvious relish. 

The loud, stinging crack of the towel snapping against Lucy's naked, damp 
bottom filled the air, followed by her scream of pain. Her hands went to the 
area attacked, and even before she clasped her burning cheek, I could see a 
deep, red welt rising on her tender, creamy flesh. 

The next girl lashed out at her naked thighs and she cried out once more as 
the blow landed, filling the air with a mixture of wet, smacking noise and 
her savage cry of pain. 

Now the girls grew more excited about their task. The next girl in line hit 
Lucy as hard as she could on the shoulders, will the other smacked her towel 
against the girl's taut, firm breasts. 

Her nipples grew swollen immediately, and I knew the pain that she felt 
their, must be particularly intense. The girls now fayed at her wildly, 
snapping their towels with delight, growing more passionate in their attack. 

Lucy twisted and turned against the raining blows, trying desperately to 
cover herself, each time exposing another area of flesh for one of them to 
attack. It was delightful to watch indeed, and I was growing more and more 
excited by it, indeed. 

I have always found pleasure in watching someone pay for their misdeeds. 
Seeing someone endure punishment for an error or lack of respect is 
fulfilling to me. Now, as the vicious blows crashed against Lucy's body, my 
own loins grew warm and damp, and a pleasing liquid fever began to ripple 
through my body. 

Again and again the girls lashed out at her. The once creamy flesh was now 
covered with welts and bruises, ugly, red blotches staining her alabaster 
skin, as she twisted and turned with each harsh, stinging blow. 

She screamed wildly, crying out in pain and punching blindly in a vain 
effort to protect herself. I was breathing heavily, now, laughing coldly 
under my breath, urging the other girls on. 

"Harder, fools, beat her harder," I hissed at them. "Make her regret her 
remarks to her teacher, make her suffer for daring to speak to me as she 
did!" 

Slowly they drove Lucy to her knees. The blows landed again and again. One 
caught her so painfully on the thighs, that her legs buckled and she slipped 
to the damp tile beside the pool under a harsh rain of blows. 

They lashed at her again and again, while I looked on, smiling with 
satisfaction. Finally, when she lay on her belly, covering only her head 
with her hands, allowing the rest of her body to accept the blows, I called 
a halt to the beating. 

"Enough," I said sharply. "Her flesh is numb, she can not feel it anymore. 
We shall have to awaken her skin before we continue!" 

I ordered the girl's to drag Lucy into the shower room and two of them took 
hold" of her under her arms and pulled her to her feet. Quickly I marched 
them into the large, warm room, filled with tiny stalls. 

They pushed Lucy into one of them and I smiled as I put my hands on the 
knobs that controlled the water. "This shall get her attention," I said 
cruelly. I turned the cold water on fully and the stinging spray hit the 
semi-conscious girl powerfully. 

She gasped and sputtered, screaming as she woke up. She tried to escape from 
the narrow stall, but two of the girls shoved her back inside. The icy cold 
water hurt like tiny needles, I knew, but that was nothing compared to what 
I planned on doing next. I gripped the knobs tightly and hissed at the girl 
in my coldest voice. 

"A little cold is it, bitch?" I laughed. "Well, perhaps we can warm you up." 
With that, I spun off the cold water and turned on the hot, moving so 
quickly that the moment the cold ceased to attack her body, the hot began to 
rain down on her in all its steaming power. 

She screamed savagely, and went insane with the pain. Desperately she tried 
to get out of the stall, but the other girls kept shoving and punching her 
back. She twisted and shuddered under the harsh, almost boiling" spray, 
screaming and begging me to let her go. 

"Ohh, Jesus, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry," she wailed. "I... ohh, God, it 
hurts, it hurts! Stop it, please, please, I'm sorry, stop it!" 

I ignored her pleas for mercy, for I was not finished yet. I laughed at her 
agony and growled at her through my teeth. "This is just the beginning, 
bitch," I said to the pleading girl. "You haven't experienced anything as 
yet!" 

She continued to sob and cry out, backing against the wall, turning her 
shapely little ass to the horrible rain of water. I watched with a throbbing 
ache in my loins now, knowing that I was going to be enjoying myself much 
more before I was finished with her. I had plenty of other things I intended 
to do. 

* * * 

Marta paused in her story at this point, telling me bluntly that she wanted 
to take a brief recess. She claimed to be hungry and demanded a hour or so 
to relax. There was little I could do but agree, so I pushed up my other 
appointments and told her to return in the afternoon. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When Marta returned, she seemed happy and unconcerned. How she could have 
even thought about eating after the torture she had put the girl through 
still on her mind, escaped me, but I said nothing. 

She sat down in the chair across from me again and lit up a cigarette with a 
casual air. She seemed completely without any sort of remorse whatsoever, 
and indeed, seemed quite eager to continue with her brutal narrative. 

* * * 

You, of course, could have no idea of how satisfying it is to take one of 
these rich bitches down a peg or two, Doctor. I have dealt with them all my 
life, however and I know what they need. 

As I continued to allow the brutal spray of steaming water to pour down on 
the girl, I felt more and more content with myself. Her flesh was turning 
redder and redder under the spray of the shower and her screams reached a 
piercing wail after a time. 

"How do you like it, little slut?" I growled at her. "How do you like having 
to pay for something, now, bitch?" 

"Ohh, please, please, Miss Marta, I'm sorry, I am," she gasped, almost 
unable to speak, so vicious and painful was her position. "I... ohhh, dear 
God, let me out of here! Please, I'm dying, let me out of here!" 

I laughed wildly, turning the water back to icy cold once more. She jerked 
about spasmodically as the pain of hot water was replaced instantly by the 
equally agonizing sensation of cold. 

She thrashed helplessly in the torture chamber I had devised for her, 
banging off the walls in a desperate effort to avoid the continual spray 
that rained down on her now, damaged flesh. 

I alternated between hot and cold for awhile longer, until she was so 
exhausted by her attempts to resist, and the throbbing, never-ceasing pain, 
that I could tell she was ready to pass out once more. 

She began to slip to the floor and I quickly shut off the water. "Drag her 
out of there," I commanded the other girls. "She loves the pool so much, we 
shall allow her to swim for as long as she likes!" 

Now three of the girls had to help her back into the pool room. She was so 
dazed and exhausted by what I had done to her so far, that she could barely 
remain on her feet for more than a few moments. 

I took two strands of cord from my pocket and while the girl's held her I 
quickly tied her wrists and ankles. I knotted the cord so tightly that she 
would never be able to work it loose, then I smiled at her wickedly. 

"You love to swim in my pool, don't you little bitch?" I whispered to her 
softly. "I wonder how well you'll swim like this, humm? Shall we find out, 
pig?" 

Her eyes were wide with terror now. She shuddered and tried to claw at the 
cord with her fingers. "No... I... ohh, Jesus, please, no, please!" she 
sobbed in terror. "Don't, Miss Marta, ohhh, please, God, don't!" 

God, how I loved to hear that little slut begging me. I turned to the two 
strongest girls and ordered them to take hold of her wrists and ankles. They 
bent over and grasped her limbs, lifting her kicking, jerking body off the 
tile. 

I counted to three, taking my time, watching with satisfaction as they swung 
her back and forth in increasing arcs. On the count of three, they released 
her, throwing her far out into the deep pool. 

She landed on her back and immediately sank down into the water. She came up 
once more, kicking and gagging on the water, then frantically began to make 
her way to the side of the pool, knifing her body forward. 

She was obviously terrified, now, and I could not keep from trembling with 
excitement as I watched her frenzied efforts to get to safety. I waited 
until she had grabbed hold of the gutter with her fingers, then I bent over 
the side of the pool and stared at her with a grim smile. 

"I thought you liked to swim, little pig," I said coolly. "I don't see you 
swimming, bitch! Come on, I said you could swim all you like, now do it!" 

With that, I pulled her fingers loose from the gutter and she screamed as I 
pushed her back into the center of the pool once more. She thrashed in the 
water, making her way back, expending more and more energy in her terror to 
grab hold of something again. I removed the rubber hose I keep for 
discipline from my pocket and waited until she had a firm grip on the gutter 
once more. 

"None of that, little slut," I cautioned her, bringing the hose down hard on 
her knuckles. "You have to swim, bitch, now swim!" 

She cried out in tortured yelps as I continued to slam the hose down hard on 
her fingers until she let go of the gutter and sank down into the water 
again. She came sputtering and choking and now began to attempt to work her 
way down to the shallow end of the pool. 

I toyed with her, allowing her to grab hold of the gutter for a moment, 
before bringing the hose down on her fingers again. I allowed her to believe 
she would reach the shallow end and just before she did, I shifted to the 
long, life-saving pole that was handing from hooks on the wall. 

I quickly picked it up and drove the rubber-tipped end of it into her belly, 
pushing hard and forcing her back out to deep water. Each time she tried to 
grasp hold of the pole, I yanked it free and slammed it into her belly 
again. 

The girl was terrified completely now, struggling wildly to stay afloat, 
sinking swiftly each time she reached the surface. "I... I can't swim any 
longer,'" she sobbed, gasping on a mouthful of water. "Ohh, dear God, Miss 
Marta, I'm going to drown!" 

"Then drown you worthless bitch," I hissed, pushing her down into the water 
with the end of the pole. "Go ahead and drown, no one will save you!" 

She was too far into the center of the pool now to make her way back, and 
almost all of her strength was gone. Helplessly she gagged and shuddered in 
the water, sinking down and struggling to come up again. 

There is very little worse than drowning with other's watching, Doctor. It 
is a form of execution that few have explored. To feel that helpless, that 
alone, to see the eyes of others watching you die is truly a horrifying 
experience. 

We all watched as she made her last, vain attempts to stay above the surface 
of the water. Her eyes were full of fear and horror, and the twisted, 
agonized expression on her face was an absolutely delicious sight to me. 

Slowly she went down, tried to come up and could not. Through the blur of 
the water, she could see the grin on my face, and I could see the agony on 
hers. I laughed savagely as she gagged and churned in the water, unable to 
rise any longer. 

After a few moments of allowing her to suffer that way, I ordered two of the 
girls to jump in after her, and pull her back to the edge of the pool. She 
was gagging and choking when I pulled her up on the tiles, almost 
unconscious by now. 

I commanded the other girls to bind her wrists to one of the hooks hanging 
from the wall, -then I removed the last instrument of punishment from my 
coat pocket. It is a delightful little devise, that coupled with another 
instrument of discipline produces marvelous results indeed. 

I slapped her until she was conscious again then showed her the final 
instrument of my punishment. "You see this little paddle," I told her 
happily. "Notice the tacks embedded in it, slut. They don't go very deep, 
but they do penetrate the skin far enough for my purposes. 

"Ohh, please, I'll do anything, Miss Marta," the frightened and exhausted 
girl told me. "I swear it, I won't ever disobey you again, just don't hurt 
me any more, please please don't hurt me anymore!" 

I ran my hand down over the graceful curve of her spine, kneading her flesh 
brutally. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her narrow shoulders, even 
as my hand rode over the delicate hump of her jutting behind. 

"Little bitch, you haven't suffered at all, yet," I whispered to her, 
kissing her back softly. "You are going to carry my will with you for quite 
a few days, I promise you, bitch!" 

Her bottom was enticing and soft. The two pert cheeks of her buttocks spongy 
and ripe with her youth. My loins were on fire, now, and I knew that only 
inflicting more pain on her would satisfy me. 

"I want all of you to pay close attention to this," I growled to the other 
girls. "And I want you to remember that this could happen to any of you! 
Think about it the next time you plan on defying me!" 

I stepped back then and lay the edge of the tack-studded paddle against 
Lucy's taut, hard buttocks. She was holding them firm in fear of what I was 
going to do to her, which pleased me all the more, for it would increase the 
pain of what she was about to endure. 

Slowly I pulled my arm back, then brought the board down hard against her 
tender behind. She screamed wildly as the tiny needles of the tacks dug into 
her flesh, puncturing her bum with a dozen tiny pin-pricks. 

She screamed again as I slammed the board against her other cheek. The tacks 
hardly broke her flesh at all, but little spots of blood began to appear on 
her skin and those were the only wounds I needed to make with the tool. 

Now, I turned and handed the board to one of the girls. "You shall all help 
me as before," I told them. "Each of you shall take your turn!" 

I pointed to the spot between her shoulder blades and the girl cracked the 
board against the place I had indicated. Again Lucy squealed in pain, her 
little body bucking with the force of the blow. Each girl took her turn, 
cracking the board as hard as she could against the girl's exposed and 
defenseless body, until her flesh was covered with dozens of tiny marks, 
from neck to buttocks. 

I inspected the tiny wounds, none of which would leave a trace of a scar and 
nodded my approval. I turned and faced the girls, smiling savagely. I had 
one last little trick for miss Lucy, something that would complete this 
series of punishments. 

I always feel that after a girl is disciplined, she ought to carry a 
reminder with her for awhile, just so she can't forget the discipline, once 
out of sight of the teacher that gave it to her. 

I knew that the beatings and the water treatment would fade away very soon, 
but what I had in mind was going to be with her for days, I hoped. The young 
girl was moaning softly, now, just shivering in place, her body swaying from 
left to right in a most attractive fashion. 

I would have loved to turn her around and force her to her knees in front of 
me, make her give me pleasure in front of the rest of them, but I knew that 
that would not serve my purpose. 

I was sure there would be another time for that, and at this moment, I had 
other things on my mind. I bent to the girl's ear and whispered in a low, 
cold voice. 

"Now you have reached the point where you think you can stand anything, 
don't you, pig?" I said viciously. "I realize that, I know, too, that you 
might even think you can joke this all off, later on! Well, you may as well 
forget about that, scum, you'll be too busy suffering for any kinds of 
jokes, little Miss!" 

With that I got the coffee can I had hidden under the seats on the platform 
beside the pool and took the lid off. I dipped my finger into the powder 
inside the can and pressed it to the girl's trembling lips. 

"Tell me, slut, what is this you are tasting?" I asked coolly. "Can you 
recognize the taste of this material!" 

She gagged and sputtered. "Ohh, God, it's salt," she moaned softly. "Ohh, 
no, please, please, Miss Marta! Not that, nooo, not that!" 

"Yes, bitch, salt for your wounds," I cackled. She screamed in terror as I 
stepped back and began to pour the powder over her back and buttocks, 
covering her wounds with the salt, pouring it on until a fine film of the 
salt completely coated her body. 

She screamed and jerked against the bonds as the salt settled into the 
dozens of little punctures in her flesh. Each time it melted away by her 
blood, I poured more and more of it on her wounds. 

The pain was horrifying, I was sure, and her cries and savage wails rang in 
my ears with a delightful, piercing force. She jerked and shuddered but of 
course, could not escape me, and I continued coating her flesh again and 
again. 

The savage, stinging pain was consuming the young girl now. Never had her 
screams of agony been louder. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I 
continued the process until I was certain that the salt would remain in her 
wounds for quite some time. 

I released her, finally, and she raced to the pool, diving in to wash the 
salt from her body. It would not do her any good, though, for it was in her 
dozens of wounds, now, and only time would melt it away. 

Of course she talked, and then they all did. I do not know why the board 
took this incident so seriously. It was obvious to me that the little bitch 
needed to be taught a lesson, and I am certain I accomplished that. 

You might have me fired, Doctor, but you won't get me to repent. Little Miss 
Lucy deserved the punishment I gave her, she was lucky she did not receive 
more. 

I don't care what you write on your report about me, I know that there is 
nothing wrong with me, and I would do the same thing that I did, if I had it 
all to do again. After all, these little sluts do need punishment and 
discipline, don't they? 

CONCLUSION 

It was obvious to me that there was no sense in continuing our conversation. 
Marta was so completely convinced of her innocence, that there was little 
more I could do, other than recommend to her employers that she be 
terminated in employment. 

This I did, and I told her I would, but she rejected my suggestion that she 
seek help. She is convinced that there is nothing wrong with her, and 
feeling that way, there is little we can do with her, other than protect 
others from her twisted sense of discipline. She is a very seriously 
disturbed woman, and I doubt if she will ever be cured. She should never be 
allowed to teach again. 

 CASE HISTORY FIVE 

SUBJECT: Laura B. AGE: Twenty-Two 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Laura B. had to be interviewed in the hospital. She was the daughter of a 
friend of mine and when I first saw her, was almost in a catatonic state. 
She was awake and alert, but obviously deeply disturbed. 

She was an attractive young woman, though shocking to see, for when I 
remembered her, she had been healthy and alive and completely without 
physical flaws. Now she was a mass of cuts and bruises, almost hopelessly 
deranged. 

It was only after I had put her under hypnosis and administered a relaxing, 
powerful drug that I was able to talk to her and get the story of what had 
happened to her from the poor, suffering young woman. 

* * * 

It isn't my fault that I want to suffer so much. I can not help myself that 
I enjoy the pain I have been forced to endure. If I were only dead, none of 
this would matter, no one else would have to suffer because of me. 

My parents have been wonderful, the only mistake they ever made was giving 
me too much. I have never had to work for anything, never had to really pull 
my own weight. Therefore it is correct that I pay for the past in the abuse 
I have taken. 

The college to which I was sent was very private, very special as you know, 
Doctor. Only no one realized how special it was. The Mistress, Miss Black, 
is a tall, plain gray haired woman of thirty-five and she deals with the 
students in a harsh manner. 

I was foolish enough to incur her wrath almost from the beginning. I had 
refused to make my bed, and had been reported by my floor supervisor to Miss 
Black. I did not think very much of it, after all, I was in my twenties, for 
God's sake, I was no child. 

But before I knew it, I was taken to Miss Black's office and told to stand 
at attention in front of her desk and await her decision on what my 
punishment should be. I was determined not to take anything off the woman, 
and that was my mistake. 

"So, you do not wish to follow our rules, humm?" she said, eyeing me coldly 
from behind her big desk. "Suppose I order you to bend over this desk and 
take a few sharp blows on the behind for you stubbornness, what then?" 

; "I wouldn't do it," I replied boldly. "I'm a grown up woman, I don't have 
to take that from you or any one!" 

"I thought so," she laughed abruptly. "I thought you would be one of those 
kinds of bitches. You think you own the world, I shall have to prove to you 
that you do not!" 

She barked an order to two of her burly assistants, short, squat women with 
ugly faces and muscular bodies. To my shock and surprise they took me by my 
arms and hustled me out of Miss Black's office. 

The forced me to move down the hall and into a large, dark and damp room 
that was usually kept locked. I had heard about this room, heard that it was 
used for punishment of the most extreme nature, but I had not believed those 
stories until now. 

Most of the girls that attended the school were already seated in tiers of 
chairs, their hands folded primly on their laps, their faces cast with 
worried frowns. 

It was at that point that I began to worry and grow more and more afraid. I 
tried to pull free of my captors, but they held my arms fast, grinning 
cruelly as they pulled me up onto a small platform. 

They tied my wrists to either side of a T shaped bar and quickly bound my 
ankles at the base of the pole. I gasped as I saw Miss Black approaching me, 
a long, ivory handled knife in her hand, the wicked, curved blade gleaming 
in the light of the candles that were placed around the room. 

"We shall have to punish you, bitch," she told me coolly as she drew near to 
my trembling body. "We shall have to make you see the error of your ways!" 

With that she began to cut through my clothing, slicing the buttons off my 
dress with a deft flick of her wrists. I watched them bounce and roll on the 
floor, then felt my garment coming free. 

I was wearing a tight bra and panties and I gasped as she cut through the 
center of my bra and brushed it away from my breasts. Her hand dropped 
downward and she easily severed my panties at the seam and they dropped, 
soundlessly to the floor at my feet. 

I was now naked and helpless and gulping with fear. Miss Black was smiling 
coldly, holding the wicked-looking knife up in front of my eyes. 

"You shall become one of us," she told me softly. "This is a very special 
place, no girl that comes here leaves without forever pledging her soul to 
our order!" 

"Please, I... whatever I did... I didn't mean to... " I was stammering 
wildly now, certain that I was in the midst of maniacs. 

"Silence worthless bitch," Miss Black hissed at me. She brought the blade of 
the knife to my cheek and pressed it against my trembling flesh. "You have 
not even begun to repay me, as yet. This is only the beginning!" 

I screamed as I felt a slight, stinging pain from the knife cutting through 
my cheek. I felt the wound parting and a trickle of blood begin to stream 
down my face. 

I could not believe that she had cut me like that. I flicked my tongue, 
tasted my own blood and felt my stomach lurch in shock and sickness. I shook 
my head, moaning softly and blinking my eyes in total fear, now. 

Miss Black nodded abruptly and turned on her heel. She walked away from me 
and went over to a tall, smoldering urn. She pulled a long handled iron from 
the urn and turned around, returning with it to where I was standing. 

"See the mark of our order," she said, lifting up the white-hot, glowing tip 
of the iron, flat at the end, shaped into the symbol of the college. "Only 
those of us who have suffered greatly are allowed to bear the mark, soon you 
shall be so privileged, little scum!" 

I moaned again and sobbed. "Ohh, God, no, please, no," I groaned, shivering 
uncontrollably, the terror racing through me, now. "What do I have to do, 
please tell me what I must do!" 

Miss Black laughed savagely and replaced the iron in the urn. "You shall 
have to endure much pain," she whispered. "You shall have to cross the 
barrier of pain and pleasure and become one with your agony. We shall help 
you reach that goal!" 

She clapped her hands and I gasped loudly as I watched the two squat 
assistants wheel in a table piled with various instruments of torture. Miss 
Black inspected the devices, smiling and cooing over them lovingly. 

"Pain is such a delight, little one," she told me softly. "Why don't you try 
this particular halter on for size, humm?" 

The halter she was speaking of, was a molded, plastic set of cups, each 
embedded with dozens of sharp little darts. It locked behind my back and 
over my shoulders by a series of straps and the cups opened up by means of a 
screw which varied how tightly shut against your flesh they were. 

V Quickly Miss Black strapped the halter onto me, leaving the cups free. I 
was shaking my head wildly, but she ignored my fear and slowly began to turn 
the screws that closed the cups against my quivering boobs. 

I felt the darts pressing against my flesh and I squirmed helplessly, trying 
to somehow escape them. Miss Black stared deeply into my eyes as her fingers 
gently turned the screws, her lips set in a tight, grim smile. 

"You must accept the pain, my dear," she told me, her voice soft and 
melodic, almost affectionate in tone. "You must begin to understand that the 
pain is your friend, that you want to suffer, for it cleans your soul!" 

I felt the darts now digging into my flesh, pressing tighter and tighter 
against my breasts. My nipples were taut and erect and pressed against each 
one of them was a long thin needle, larger than the other darts. 

I screamed as the twin spears began to penetrate my skin. The pain roared in 
my boobs and jarred in my brain. I had never so much as been spanked in all 
my life, and now I was beginning to endure an agony I had never dreamed of. 

Deeper and deeper the needles and darts drove into my breasts. I could feel 
them sinking and sinking, my boobs quaking with pain, my whole body jerking 
spasmodically against my bonds as they drove into me. 

I twisted and turned my head, the pain overwhelming me, now, taking more and 
more of my senses with it. I could not stand such horrible agony. I yelled 
at the top of my lungs, begging her to stop. 

"There is no end to your suffering," Miss Black whispered hypnotically. "You 
must learn to love the pain, cherish it completely! Feel the hurt, little 
worthless one, feel it and embrace it, now!" 

The pure, naked savagery that she was showing toward me was impossible for 
me to understand. There was a gleeful smile on her face as she turned the 
screws tighter and tighter against my tits until the cups were finally 
closed completely, the needles and darts firmly embedded in my boobs. 

I stood there, almost unable to remain upright and shuddered uncontrollably 
with the rolling agony that was tearing through me, now. I had never dreamed 
of such pain and found it almost impossible to believe that this was 
happening to me. 

Miss Black reached up with both hand and placed them on the plastic cups, 
then jerked them back and forth, viciously. The needles and darts moved in 
my flesh and I screamed with the renewed force of my suffering. 

"Good, bitch, you are beginning to experience the true pleasure of pain," 
Miss Black chuckled. "Do you see how overwhelming it truly is? Isn't it 
marvelous my dear, isn't it almost God-like?" 

I could barely understand what she was saying. I could feel the blood 
dripping from dozens of wounds on my chest, feeling it running down over my 
belly in sticky rivers and I could hardly catch my breath, now. 

She reached over to the table behind her and picked up a can of shaving 
cream and a razor. "All the young women who are truly the innocent girls of 
our order do not have foul and unsightly hair," she told me. "Their loins 
are bare so that they may be seen for their beauty and the service they can 
render!" 

I did not understand and I gasped as I felt her covering my pussy with 
shaving cream. In a few moments she had coated my hair with the lather and 
was bent down, slicing the bush from my mound, with careful, calculated 
strokes of the razor. 

I did not dare move, for I was terrified that if I even trembled a bit, she 
would cut my cunt badly. I stood there, a deep sense of shame coming over 
me, as she continued to shave the hair from my trembling hillock. 

My breasts were throbbing dully, now, and I wanted to remain still to save 
myself any more pain than necessary. I moaned softly as I felt the strokes 
of the razor over my mound, while my tits ached from the embedded needles 
and darts. 

The pain was consuming me little by little. I found it hard to believe that 
I could endure so much without fainting, but I was growing used to the 
pounding hurt in my breasts, almost as if it were something natural to be 
feeling. 

At last Miss Black stood up and wiped my crotch clean with a towel. My cunt 
felt strange, now that it was hairless, and I was never more humiliated in 
my life as I stood there, my mound clean as when I was a babe. 

Miss Black reached down between my legs again and began to tug on the lips 
to my vagina. I moaned in shame and panic, wondering what she had planned 
next. I felt her long, slender fingers caressing my petals, pulling them 
apart, forcing them to grow slippery and swollen from her efforts. 

I shuddered involuntarily, a spasm of pleasure rippling through me that I 
could no avoid nor escape. I did not want to feel this way, but somehow, 
even the dull, relentless ache in my breasts would not take away from the 
throbbing in my loins that her fingers were creating. 

It was then that I realized I must be going mad, for the pleasure was not 
only growing despite the pain I was feeling in my tits, but I began to 
anticipate each throbbing spasm in my breasts, almost, with horror I 
realized, welcoming them. 

The drug was wearing off at this time, and I thought it wise to give the 
young woman a little rest before continuing. She lapsed into a state of 
semi-consciousness and I left her small, private room to confer with one of 
the Doctors. 

Already what I had heard had shaken me, and I did not know what to expect 
next from her. Given the sight of her body, scared and brutalized, however, 
as it was, I dreaded hearing a story worse than what she had already told 
me. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

After allowing her to rest, fitfully for three hours, I returned to her room 
and found her much as before. I placed her under the drug once again, for 
she was still hypnotized, and gave it a few minutes to act. 

Once she was semi-conscious once more, I sat down beside her bed and began 
the probing of her mind that had already revealed such horrors to me. 

I stood there for perhaps a moment or two, trembling violently. I wanted to 
stop shaking and I wanted to escape the strange, horrifying sensations that 
I was experiencing, not so much for the pain, but because of how I was 
reacting to it. 

Miss Black had said I would come to enjoy the cruel torture she had given me 
and I did not want to believe that. My mind was so confused, however, that I 
did not know what to think as she lifted another object up to my eyes. 

It was a round, gold ring, perhaps two inches in diameter. The shiny gold 
winked brightly under the candle light and I moaned with the pain I was 
still experiencing and the utter terror that anything could happen next. 

"This ring is part of your bond with us," whispered Miss Black. "With it, 
you shall be married, in a sense, to all of us. We each wear the ring from 
time to time, and only one of us may remove it!" 

She was massaging my pussy lips briskly, now, and with a horrified gasp, I 
realized why she was doing that when she suddenly opened the ring, wide. It 
was hinged in the center and the clasps were filed to needle sharpness. 

"No, damn you, no," I screamed, my voice piercing the quiet of the room. 
"For the love of God, no, you maniac!" 

Miss Black turned her lip up into an angry snarl and hissed at her two 
assistants. "Grab her fingers," she growled. "Do you wish to be wedded to 
us?" she asked me. 

I shook my head. "No, you monster, leave me alone," I sobbed. 

She nodded sharply to one of the assistants and the woman swiftly pulled my 
little finger back against my hand. I screamed in agony as I felt the bone 
snap with a loud, sickening crack. The pain shot through my arm and the 
sweat of sudden agony began to burst out over my forehead. 

"Again, I ask you, slut," Miss Black barked in a low, even tone of voice. 
"Do you want to become one with our order?" 

Violently I shook my head and she nodded again. This time the other 
assistant broke my other little finger and the pain was so intense that I 
almost blacked out from the sheer agony of it. 

Miss Black slapped me back and forth to get my attention. She held the 
gleaming ring up to my eyes and spoke coldly. "You have eight other fingers, 
slut," she told me harshly. "And ten toes! No, quickly, shall you wed with 
us?" 

"Ohh, Jesus, yes, please, yes," I moaned, feeling the horrible throbbing in 
my fingers moving steadily up along my hands and into my arms. "Anything, 
just don't do that to me again!" 

I hardly knew what I was saying. Miss Black smiled sweetly and nodded in 
satisfaction. She rolled the lips of my cunt between her fingers and pulled 
them out and away from my cunt. I. groaned as I felt her pinching them 
between her long, slender fingers. 

Once more she showed me the open ring. "Now you shall feel the beauty of her 
becoming one of us," she cooed lovingly. "Now you shall be wedded to us 
through the pain of your suffering." 

She dropped her hand to my cunt and I felt the tips of the parted ring 
against either of my stretched lips. I moaned softly then felt a piercing 
agony as she suddenly snapped the two ends of the ring closed. 

The sharp tips drove through my cunt petals, snapping together with a loud 
click between them. My scream of savage agony made my very own ears ring, 
and the pain was more horrible than anything yet so far combined. 

How absolutely devastating the pain was can not be described. It felt as if 
a dozen blades were slicing through my flesh, tearing my cunt to ribbons. I 
felt the ring though my cunt petals, and I realized that something had 
happened to me which I would never recover from. 

The agony made me sob and wail uncontrollably, then. I could no longer hold 
any of it in and I screamed at the top of my lungs, thrashing against my 
bound wrists and ankles, savagely trying to escape. 

But what was worse, was the way the pain was wickedly consuming me, making 
me think that it was justified, that I should be suffering as I was. I know 
that I was going insane, but I could not help myself, now. 

"Ohh, Jesus, ohh, God, what is happening to me," I moaned, unable to see 
now, so fierce was the suffering I was going through. "Please, someone help 
me, please, I need someone to help me, now!" 

"I shall help you, little one," Miss Black whispered tenderly. She gave the 
ring a gentle tug, pulling my cunt petals forward and I screamed anew. 
"There, there, the pain is good, it is good for you! It makes you one of 
us!" 

She turned to the two assistants and told them to release my wrists and 
ankles. Up until that point, I think I would have attempted to escape had I 
a moment's freedom, but I was paralyzed by pain, now, and I hardly did more 
than drop my arms once they were free from the thongs that bound them to the 
bar. 

"Come with me, my sister," whispered Miss Black. She fastened a clip that 
was connected to a leash, to the ring and began to pull me along behind her. 
"Come and let your other sisters greet you!" 

Meekly I followed her around the room, her hand pulling on the leash, 
forcing me to keep up with her as it tugged on my swollen, pierced cunt 
petals. My breasts were still aching badly and my cunt felt on fire, but I 
had no will to resist any longer. 

"You feel lost and alone, don't you my dear?" Miss Black said, shaking her 
head with concern. "You feel as if you haven't a friend in the world, well, 
that's not so, my dear! We are all your lovers and friends, here!" 

She patted me on the head and motioned that I should kneel in front of her. 
I did as she commanded and stared at her with increasing affection. I was so 
twisted and mad by then, that she was the only person that seemed real to me 
anymore. 

She lifted her own skirt and commanded the other girls to do the same and to 
my shock, I saw that all of them were wearing rings through their vaginal 
lips, just like mine. I began to cry, then, for I suddenly felt part of them 
in some way, though I could not have explained it at all. 

"Now you must take the beating that you deserve, my dear," Miss Black told 
me, kindly. "You must mar your back with the sign of your surrender. Only by 
suffering this beating shall you be cleansed of all your past misdeeds!" 

With that, she told me to bow my head to the cold, stone floor and remain 
still no matter what happened. I was shivering with cold and fear and the 
continuing ache in my breasts, but I did as she ordered, so desperate was I 
then, to have her approval. 

Miss Black selected a long, multi-stranded whip from the table. The edges of 
each strand were fitted with sharp, metal tips and she dropped them to the 
floor in front of my eyes. 

"Are you ready for your punishment, my Dear?" she asked softly. "Are you 
ready to receive the wonderful discipline that we wish to give to you?" 

I was trembling with fear and pain, my heart racing with the thought of even 
more agony to endure, but I nodded my head firmly. 

"Yes, please, give it to me, now," I moaned, my spine tensing in 
anticipation. "I am so weary of this confusion! Make me one of you, now!" 

Miss Black raised the metal-tipped whip above her head and brought it down 
hard across my shoulders. I cried out in pain, feeling the sharp tips 
slicing through my flesh, opening up my skin, and I quaked with the force of 
the blow. 

The pain was almost unbearable, but I found it was not as horrible as I once 
would have thought. Though I did not think I could stand it, it did not 
repel me any more, for some reason, I was growing to enjoy it, and when the 
whip landed again, I actually laughed through my choking gasp of pain. 

"Ahh, you are beginning to accept your punishment, good," chuckled Miss 
Black. "That is correct, my Dear, now you are beginning to learn!" 

She brought the whip down over my buttocks and my quivering buns ached and 
stung with pain as the sharp, gleaming tips of the whip strands caressed 
them. I could feel the warm, sticky blood beginning to seep from my wounds, 
but I did not attempt to avoid the coming blows at all, after that. 

Slowly the pain of each lash grew nearer to the last. It became a continual 
process, something that never ended. Miss Black handed the whip to each girl 
in turn and they struck their blows with all their might. 

Again and again the lash fell across my back, shoulders and buttocks. I lost 
track of how many times I was struck, and I no longer cared, as well. The 
pain was part of me now, I was beginning to understand what Miss Black had 
been telling me. 

I felt alive, then, actually thrilled to be beaten. The pain was so 
constant, so overpowering that I could not even begin to escape it, nor did 
I wish to. I felt each blow land with savage force and power and I took the 
lash into my flesh, willingly. 

The blood that was now coming from my wounds was cleansing blood, as far as 
I was concerned. It was washing everything that I ever did or was out of me 
and I was eager to allow such portions of myself escape. 

Eagerly I lifted my body for each girl to strike. Again and again they 
rained the blows down on my naked, blood-spattered frame and I only 
shuddered with the falling strokes, dropping down from the sheer force of 
them, and not any desire to be free. 

My mind came alive with self-abuse. It was whirling with a dozen different 
ways I could punish myself. I wanted to mutilate my body to prove that I was 
one of them, I wanted to bear the scars of my surrender on every inch of my 
worthless flesh. 

I know quite well how mad I am. Only an insane person could enjoy such 
torture, and by now, I was truly enjoying it indeed. No longer did I even 
think of shrinking from the constant pain, if anything, I wanted more of it. 
"Harder, please," I whispered breathlessly. "Ohh, God, Miss Black, have them 
hit me, harder! Ahh, it feels so wonderful, so clean and good! Yes, harder, 
yes!" 

Of course this delighted Miss Black and she instructed the remaining girls 
to put every bit of their strength and power into the blows they struck. 
Just when I thought my suffering might end, happily it began to get worse. 

Finally they were finished, each girl having taken her turn. Miss Black 
helped me to my feet and led me over to the urn. She lifted the smoldering 
iron from the bed of coals it rested upon and showed the glowing symbol to 
me. 

"Now?" she asked. "Do you want to wear the mark of us, right now?" 

I gazed at the white of the brand and nodded without hesitation. She nodded 
to her two assistants and they took hold of my arms and pulled my body 
backwards. Miss Black ordered me to spread my thighs and I did as she 
commanded. 

"This will seal your bond with us, Laura," she told me excitedly. "From now 
on, you shall know your sisters by this mark, and they shall know of you!" 

I did not look away, but gazed downward as she gently held my left thigh in 
her free hand, turning the inner flesh outward. I gulped once and nodded and 
then watched as she applied the burning iron to my flesh. 

The pain tore through me wildly, a sickening stench reaching my nostrils 
from my charred skin. I kept my leg as steady as possible, welcoming all the 
pain I was feeling, allowing the iron to burn deep into my thigh. 

I could not keep from jerking spasmodically, even with the desire I had, not 
to. My body was reacting to the horrible pain and I felt myself getting 
dizzy and weak and the smoke curled up from around the iron and my scorched 
limb. 

Miss Black held the iron to my flesh for what seemed like a long time, and 
when she finally pulled it free, I felt much too weak to remain on my feet. 
The two assistants allowed me to slip to the floor and I lay there moaning, 
fighting the urge to grab my burned, branded leg. 

After that things were different for me. I grew to think of pain above all 
else, to dream of agony before even eating. Now, as you can see, I am 
destroyed by my own madness, Doctor. My body is scarred beyond repair and I 
am sure my mind has been too warped to be save. I can only hope I shall die, 
soon, for I can see no other way to end this horror I call my life. 

CONCLUSION 

This troubling case has haunted me ever since that time. I allowed the young 
woman to slip into an uneasy sleep after our last interview and I came away 
from the room shaken badly. 

I did not know how she could be helped, for one that not only gives 
themselves up, but gladly accepts their condition of destruction is almost 
beyond reach. I tried on several more visits to get her to see that all was 
not lost, but she ignored me completely. She has been committed to an 
institution and she must be restrained from hurting herself at all times. 
The school she attended has been investigated and the said Miss Black 
exposed, but that does little good for the poor, shattered young woman that 
lives now in a world of never-ending darkness and despair. 

 CASE HISTORY SIX 

SUBJECT: Joan R. AGE: Nineteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Joan R. was not a very attractive young girl who had the misfortune to be 
born into a family of decidedly twisted individuals. After a series of 
problems with the law, she finally ended up in my office for a probational 
interview. 

She was wearing prison gray and her long, stringy blonde hair was not combed 
nor had it recently been washed. She seemed to be doing everything to annoy 
me that she could think of and it was not until I pressed her about this 
that she finally blurted out the reason for her sullen behavior in a story 
that I found almost impossible to believe, though it was obviously true. 

* * * 

Okay, you want to know why I'm so messed up, well I'll tell you. You come 
from a family like mine, Doc, and you'll be messed up, too. I mean, some 
kids got it rough, I know I ain't the only one. But listen to me, Doc, I'd 
rather have been an fucking orphan than go through what I did. 

Let's start with my mother, then we'll get to the rest of the assholes. My 
old lady was a real religious bitch. I mean, she prayed all the time. All 
the time she wasn't beating the hell out of us kids, that is. 

Not that ain't so bad. I mean, lots of kids get licked, and a few more than 
others. I understand that, and I tell you, I would have been happy if I just 
kept getting beat, I'll tell you. But you see, when I got a little older, I 
mean around fourteen, things changed. Maybe it was the old man, the way he 
started looking at me, like I was a bit more than his daughter, now. Maybe 
it was that, I don't know. But pretty soon, the old lady started looking at 
me different, too. 

Me, I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I was just trying to survive 
in that nut house. The old man had already put one of my older brothers in 
the hospital, and when he got out, the kid was so messed up, he hardly knew 
his name. 

But now my mother starts in. She always did like beating us kids. She seemed 
to get a charge out of hearing us squeal. If she landed a good lick, and you 
really hollered, boy was she ever happy. 

But then the sex business started. She cornered me one day in the John. The 
house was empty, so I thought, and I was taking a shower. Now it was the 
middle of the God damn summer, and hotter than a bitch, so I kept the door 
open for a little air in the John. 

She didn't like that at all. "You stinking slut," she hissed at me. 
"Wandering around here naked as a jaybird, showing off what you got to 
everybody." 

"What have I got?" I laughed, hell I was just fourteen, didn't hardly have 
any tits at all, and no cunt hair, either. "And everybody where? I didn't 
even know you were home, for Christ's sake!" 

The bit about using God's name in vain was always a sore point with her, and 
she let me have it, then. I didn't see fist coming and it caught me right on 
the chin. All I saw was the room spinning around as I went down, then I 
banged my head on the toilet seat and I was out. 

When I came to again, I was lying in bed. I opened my eyes and moaned, then 
I tried to sit up. I couldn't move and after a few seconds of confusion, I 
realized that my arms and legs were tied down by pillow cases. 

I was spread wide on that bed, naked and helpless while my mother was pacing 
back and forth at the foot of the bed, muttering. I gulped and shivered, 
getting a little scared, now. 

"Hate to have to do it, but she has to be taught a lesson," she was saying, 
talking as if somebody else were in the room she was explaining it to. "I 
know it's gonna hurt, but there's nothing else to do!" 

"Hey, hey Momma, what's going on?" I said quietly. I talked real low and 
soft, because I didn't want to anger her. "How come I'm tied up like this?" 

She whirled around, glaring at me like an animal. "You little whore," she 
hissed at me. "You strut your stuff around here, thinking what a big girl 
you are!" 

She moved over to where my head was and took hold of my hair, giving it a 
hard, nasty shake. "You think you're grown up, huh?" she cackled, her voice 
crazier than I had ever heard it. "In such a hurry to be big, huh? Well, 
I'll show you what a woman is, bitch! I'll give you a taste of everything!" 

Man, I was terrified. I mean, I was scared to death. I watched, trying hard 
not to start sobbing as she walked out of the room then came back with some 
clothes pins and a length of clothes line. 

"You don't like being a little girl, humm?" , she chuckled viciously, tying 
the clothes pins to the line with some wire. "Well, we'll take care of that, 
for you in a hurry, you little tramp!" 

"Hey, Momma, please, don't," I gasped as she reached over my chest and 
opened the two clothes pins. "Please, ohh, God, Momma, please don't!" 

She snapped the clothes pins shut around my tiny nipples and the pain was so 
intense that it lifted me off the bed with a squeal of agony. Jesus, I can 
still feel those spring-forced pins pinching my nipples. I though I was 
dying. 

"Want big tits, bitch," laughed my mother. "Well, we'll just give them a 
little stretch. See if we can't get them to grow a bit, huh?" 

I could not believe what she was doing to me. She hooked the clothes line 
over the top of the door and pulled on the end of it. My little, 
fourteen-year-old tits pulled taut, my nipples to the point of being ripped 
from my chest, and my body was up off the bed in an effort to ease the 
horrible pain I was going through. 

"Ohh, God, Momma, please, stop it, stop it," I sobbed, almost unable to 
speak, I hurt so bad. "Please, Momma let me go, let me go!" 

"Shut up, whore," my mother snapped at me. She gazed at my stretched tits, 
my little nipples throbbing with pain and she laughed at me brutally. "This 
is just the beginning, bitch, just the start of feeling like a woman for 
you!" 

God, Doctor, I was in agony. I hate just to remember it. She smiled at me, 
then, nodding to herself as she went off into the other room. She left me 
there for about fifteen minutes and the effort of keeping my body steady and 
upright was almost more than I could stand. My breasts throbbed so badly 
that I had to clench my teeth against the pain, and my nipples felt as if 
somebody were pinching them in a twisted pair of pliers. I was sweating like 
a hog and shuddering involuntarily. 

When my mother came back into the room, she was carrying a short, polished 
stick she used to use on us kids where she got tired of hitting us with her 
hand. It had dozens of knots all over it and when I saw that, I moaned in 
fear. 

I figured she was gonna beat me with it, and I didn't know if I could keep 
myself stretched like I was if she started slamming it into my belly. She 
grinned wickedly at me and lay the thick, round stick on my stomach. 

"You're a whore, you know that, don't you?" she whispered coldly. "Tell your 
mother what a whore you are, slut." 

I was crying by then, full of fear and an awful sense of shame. "Ohh, Momma, 
no, I'm not a whore, I'm not!" I told her. "Please, Momma, I'm a good girl, 
I am!" 

She whacked me hard on the belly with the stick and it was all I could do to 
keep from puking, the blow was so hard. "You shut your mouth, you little 
pig," she hissed at me. "Now, say it, say you're a whore, you slut!" 

I didn't want her to hit me again, so' I nodded quickly. "Ohh, Momma, all 
right, all right," I groaned, talking through my teeth. "I'm a whore, Momma, 
I'm a fucking whore, okay? Damn you!" 

She smacked me with the stick again and I groaned, my tits strained to the 
limit now as my body sagged under the blow. My mother was nodding grimly, 
now, running the stick over my belly and across the tops of my thighs. 

"Yes, you are a whore, I've tried to prevent it, but I have failed," she was 
saying. "It's my duty to do something about this, I know. My duty to try and 
save you before it's too late. You need to be punished, and I'm the one to 
punish you!" 

She was out of her head, again, and I was so scared I couldn't even talk. I 
didn't know what she had in mind, but I was terrified of her by now. She was 
so hung up on disciplining us, that I knew she would really do something 
horrible, now that I had admitted to being a whore. 

"You've had cocks in your cunt, then," she growled at me, poking at my thin, 
hairless pussy lips with the tip of the stick. "I'll bet you've had a lot of 
pricks in your hole, haven't you, slut?" 

I couldn't help myself, then. "No, damn it, Momma, I'm a virgin, I am," I 
sobbed, unconsciously thrusting my cunt upward to make my point. "I've never 
had anything in there but what should be. I'm still cherry, Momma!" 

"No whore is cherry," she hissed at me. "You know that, don't you, slut? 
I'll make sure you're not cherry, bitch. I'll give you another cock to 
love!" 

I screamed as she started to poke the long, fat stick at my cunt entrance. 
There were sharp knots on it as I said before and they were already nicking 
my skin as she pushed the huge piece of wood at me. 

"Ohh, Jesus, dear God, no, Momma, don't," I sobbed, twisting and turning in 
bed now, trying to get away from the horrible stick she was jabbing at me. 
"Please, ohh, Momma, don't do this, no!" 

My mother was cackling wildly, now, completely enjoying herself as she poked 
at my pussy with the stick. Already the sharp knobs were tearing at my cut 
lips and I gasped and screamed as they ripped at my flesh. 

I couldn't believe the old bitch was doing this to me. There was a big smile 
on her face and she was almost humming to herself as she continued to try 
and force the prong into my cunt. 

The pain was starting to get to me, I couldn't see very well because of it, 
and it was moving from my tits down over my belly and up from my crotch. I 
shrieked loudly as she bent over and began to pull on my cunt petals with 
her bony fingers. 

"Got to get it in there, just got to," she was saying in a sing-song voice. 
"That's where it belongs, right inside this little whore's pussy! Yes sir!" 

She was completely flipped now, and I was totally defenseless. My little 
body was throbbing with fear and pain and I gasped tightly as she pulled the 
lips to my pussy apart and began to wedge the tip of the knotted, wooden 
stick into my virginal pit. 

God, I thought the beatings were bad, but this was a thousand times worse. I 
mean, I was a street kid, tough, but I hadn't given up my cherry like most 
of the other girls, it was the one thing I was hanging on to. 

Now, here I was about to lose it, and not even to a guy, but to the crazy 
passion of my own mother to hurt me. I screamed and sobbed but she just 
ignored me completely, determined to get that stick all the way in. 

I felt it tearing along the walls to my cunt, ripping the flesh inside, 
forcing my unfamiliar passage to stretch beyond what it ever had before. I 
sobbed and cried out loud, begging her to stop, but she wasn't paying any 
attention. 

Deeper and deeper she forced the stick inside of me. She began to twist and 
turn in, the knots slicing through my flesh, ripping my insides to shreds. I 
never felt anything so horrible in my life. 

It felt like she was using a carving knife on me, cutting and slicing 
wildly, pushing the damn thing ever further up inside of me. I could' not 
see any longer. My eyes were blurred by a brilliant, glaring light that came 
from the pain itself. 

I felt the huge, knotted stick banging against my virgin .wall and I 
screamed again, pulling my ass backward on the bed in an effort to escape 
the horrible weapon. 

"No, Momma, please, no, don't do that," I wailed, pleading with her not to 
take my cherry from me. "I'll be good, Momma, I will! Just don't break me, 
Momma, please, it hurts, take it out!" 

"All men hurt, you slut," my mother growled. "A whore like you, being so 
used to pricks, ought not to mind this! Come on, whore, give your new John 
some loving!" 

She laughed wildly, humming to herself as she began to pump the stick in and 
out of my damaged pussy. I screamed and twisted on the bed, shuddering 
violently as she pulled the stick almost all the way out of me. 

"John's got his whore, John's got his whore," she sang, softly. "Come on 
little slut, take your John, now, take him good!" 

I felt her thrust the stick forward, putting all her weight behind it and I 
screamed once more as the stick slammed into my cherry then broke through 
and buried itself completely in my virgin tunnel. 

I wailed in pain and humiliation, jerking about the bed as she turned the 
buried stick around in my cunt, laughing at the blood she saw seeping from 
my torn interior. 

She had ripped up my insides like a dozen razor blades and now she pumped 
the stick-in and out of me in a slow, rhythmic-like way, pretending it was a 
cock and humping my cunt for dear life. 

I just lay there on the bed, bleeding and groaning, totally in shock. I hurt 
so bad I wanted to die and my mind was on the brink of exploding, I was so 
messed up over this. There wasn't anything else I could do but endure this 
until she got tired or bored. Finally she stopped pumping the damn thing in 
and out of me and left the room to amuse herself in some other way. 

"Hope that teaches you what it's like to be a woman, bitch," she chuckled 
harshly as she left the room. "Maybe now, you won't want to grow up so 
fast." 

She left me there for nearly four hours, my tits pulled by the clothes pins, 
that rotten hunk of wood stuck in my pussy. By the time she set me free, I 
couldn't even walk, I had to crawl to the bathroom to clean myself up. 

Joan stopped at this point in her story. She kept her face grim and 
determined, but I could see the tears welling up in her hard, blue eyes. I 
coughed a couple of times and asked her if she wanted to rest. 

She told me she'd like a cup of coffee and while I sent out for it, she lay 
down on my couch, her head turned against the wall, her shoulders tense in 
an effort to keep from breaking down. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When the coffee arrived, she sat up on the couch and took a sip, then lit a 
cigarette and stared at me over the rim of the cup. She was still trying to 
be hard and tough, but I could see she ached to let everything out. 

I realized the best thing to do would be to not pressure her in any way, so 
I simply sat in my chair, drinking my own cup of coffee, smoking silently 
until she was ready to begin again. 

* * * 

I know what you're thinking, Doc, you're thinking I made it all up. Well, 
you can check my records, see if my pussy ain't a mess! I been through hell, 
damn it, and it didn't stop with the old lady, either. 

Sure, after that little session, I did my best to both stay out of her way 
and not let her catch me without a good layer of clothing on, anymore. I 
wasn't interested in having her prove her point to me again. 

I got a little wild after that, I guess I didn't give a damn anymore, after 
I lost my cherry. I started fucking guys, and I guess the old man heard 
about it or something, and that's when he started getting interested. 

The sleazy, old son of a bitch started giving me the eye on my sixteenth 
birthday. He got drunk and came into my room late that evening, falling down 
over my bed and cuddling up to me. 

He stank of booze and made me want to puke and I wasn't interested at all. I 
pushed him away and told him to get lost and he got pissed. He punched me 
hard in the face, knocking me senseless for a few seconds. 

"Listen you little slut, you give it away to everybody else," he grumbled. 
"I'm gonna get a taste of that pussy before it's big enough to drive a 
fucking car into!" 

Well, I got away from him then, I gave his balls a good squeeze and he let 
me go with a scream of pain. But I didn't do so well a few nights later. I 
came home from school, tired as hell from having to study for an exam. 

He was sitting at the kitchen table, heating up some water for coffee, his 
eyes red and blurred, like he had been drinking all day. He snarled at me 
when I came in and I was just irritated enough to snarl back. 

He cracked me across the face with the back of his hand, knocking me off the 
chair and onto the floor. I felt him pulling me to my feet by my hair, then 
he punched me a couple of more times with his fists. 

I was kind of dizzy by all this, so I didn't really realize what was 
happening. He pushed me up onto the table and I felt his hands tugging on my 
panties. He pulled them off of me then began to tie some cord around both of 
my ankles. 

There is a hook in the ceiling where a light used to be and he looped the 
end of the cord over this, then hauled me up until my ass was up in the air, 
and my chest barely touching the top of the table. 

I came out of my stupor at that point, screaming wildly. "Daddy, let me 
down, let me, down," I yelled. "Please, Daddy, I'm afraid!" 

"You ought to be, you little bitch," he hissed at me. He grabbed hold of my 
arms and tied my wrists to the two front legs of the table then stepped back 
to admire his work. "You need to be a little bit higher, I think." 

He pulled on the rope a little more, and finally all that was touching the 
table was my chin and arms. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, 
making me dizzy and weak, but I was too scared to worry about that. 

"Your mother thought she taught you a lesson a few years ago, slut," he 
snarled coldly. "But I guess she was wrong! You're still a little whore, and 
it's time your father took charge!" 

I didn't know what he had in mind, but I was terrified by now. I turned my 
head around and watched him as he went through the junk under the sink and 
finally came up with a long-stemmed funnel. 

Jesus, my blood ran cold when I saw that. He grinned at me savagely and 
waved the funnel at me as he approached. "Little whore's got a tight ass for 
her old man, does she now?" he chuckled softly. "Well, we'll take care of 
that real quick!" 

"Ohh, God, no, Daddy, please," I screamed as he put his free hand on my 
bottom and began to squeeze my cheeks. "No, please, don't! Daddy, ohh, 
Jesus, please!" 

I screamed again as I felt one of his fingers kneading and massaging the 
tight dot of my hole. I held my ass firmly, terrified of letting him get in 
there, but he pushed hard on his finger and I screamed as I felt it; enter 
my behind. 

He drove it as far into my asshole as he could, then twisted and turned it 
inside to force my entrance wide. 

After a few moments, he removed his finger from my throbbing canal and 
picked up the gleaming funnel again. I sobbed wildly as I felt him spreading 
my cheeks apart once more, then inserting the funnel into my aching 
entrance. 

I screamed as he jammed it deep into my bum, twisting it around until most 
of the stem of the funnel was firmly embedded in my asshole. The cold, 
slippery metal forced my tunnel wide and the pain throbbed wildly against my 
inner walls. 

I was gasping for breath, my lungs aching from the choking effort I was 
making. I watched in horror as he went to the stove and picked up the now 
whistling tea kettle. 

"Ohh, Jesus, no, Daddy, God, no," I sobbed, shaking my head in terror. 
"Daddy, please, I'll do it, I do anything, but not that!" 

"This ought to loosen up that tight ass of yours, bitch," he chuckled 
cruelly, tipping the kettle up and pouring the boiling water into the 
funnel. 

My screams of agony were so loud that the dishes rattled in the cupboards. I 
thrashed against the table as the boiling water poured into my helpless 
asshole, scalding my flesh horribly. The pain that was roaring through me 
then was unbelievable, and I felt like I was being ravaged by a smoldering 
iron rod. 

He continued to pour the water into my hole ass it bubbled up and overflowed 
the rim of the funnel. I could not escape the scalding liquid and my ass was 
being boiled by the steaming fluid. 

Never had I felt anything like this before. Even my mother's savage assault 
on my cunt was nothing compared to this. I kicked and screamed helplessly, 
begging him to stop, but my sobbing cries were completely ignored by the son 
of a bitch. 

Let me tell you something, Doctor, nothing I have ever gone through since 
was as horrible or cruel as what happened to me that afternoon. I mean, just 
think about that for a minute. 

Just think about a sixteen-year-old girl tied up .like that, scalding water 
poured into her asshole. Imagine what that does to her head, Doc, are you 
surprised I turned out the way I did? I ain't. 

Anyway, he just kept pouring that water into me until the tea kettle was 
empty. I was out of my mind with agony, of course, almost nuts by that time. 
The pain pounded in my asshole so fiercely that it completely took over. I 
forgot about everything, even who I was. The pain was all I could think 
about. 

He laughed at my screaming and shuddering in pain and pulled the funnel from 
my asshole. The remains of the water poured out of me, and I could barely 
see straight. I watched as he went to the refrigerator, got a couple of 
bottles of ice water, then brought them back to where I was. 

He jammed the funnel back into my asshole and began to pour the cold water 
into my bum. "This ought to cool you off, you slut," he laughed, coldly. 

Naturally the icy cold water had about the same effect on my burned inner 
walls as the hot water had. The pain raged through me, violently. My flesh 
seized up from the effects of the chilly water and I screamed uncontrollably 
as he emptied both bottles into my poor, throbbing canal. 

I was praying that I would pass out, by this time. I wanted nothing more in 
the world, then, than to faint and get away from the awful pain. He had lost 
his mind, I was sure of it, and I was terrified he was going to kill me. 

By then I didn't even care about that, I just wanted to be unconscious when 
he did it. I didn't give a shit if I died. I didn't want to live any more. I 
just wanted an escape from the torture he was putting me through. 

I hung there, twisting and turning, long past being ashamed or embarrassed 
by now. My cunt was exposed to my old man's eyes, and my tits falling out of 
my blouse, but none of that mattered now. 

Jesus, I would have sucked his cock dry if he would have let me go. I swear 
I would have fucked him in front of my mother if I could have done it 
instead of hanging up there like that. 

Finally he finished pouring the cold water into me and he stood back, 
smiling like he was proud of the job he had done. He yanked the funnel from 
my ass and I gasped in pain, as some of my flesh that was fastened to it 
came free with the gleaming, metal stem. 

"Now how do you feel, bitch?" he sneered at me. "Feel like trying to act 
stuck-up with your old man, now, baby? You little slut, I ought to carve a 
piece out of your cunt for acting that way with me!" 

He took a big steak knife from the kitchen drawer and started waving it at 
my pussy. I screamed and sobbed, shaking my head and begging him not to. I 
felt him jabbing it at my pussy, cutting my cunt lips a couple of times and 
I wailed in fear and continuous pain. 

"Ohh, Daddy, do anything, please, but no more hurt," I sobbed. "I don't care 
what you do, Daddy, but, please, don't hurt me anymore!" 

He laughed at that and unzipped his trousers. He pulled out his prick and 
pumped away on it until it was hard. When it was good and stiff, he climbed 
up on the table and stabbed it into my cunt without even trying to get me 
wet. 

It hurt of course, and made me sick to think of it, but it was better than 
having him cut me anymore. I just hung there, his hands holding tight to my 
ass while he pumped his prick in and out of me. 

I felt his dick swelling up, then he groaned and I felt the come spurting 
inside of my cunt as he climaxed. He laughed and shuddered a few times, 
moaning with delight, emptying himself in my pit, then he pulled out and 
wiped the rest of his shaft on my belly. After awhile, he let me down, and I 
left that house that very same night. 

Now they want to put me away, and they wonder why I'm pissed off all the 
time. I ain't saying I'm an innocent kid, but Jesus, I got a right to be 
mad, don't I? I mean, after all that's happened, who wouldn't be a little 
pissed off and screwy? 

CONCLUSION 

Once again, Joan turned her head away and covered her face, this time unable 
to keep from crying. I sat in my chair, unable to say a word, just listening 
to her quiet sobbing. I felt weak and ill inside and made a vow to myself to 
help this girl. 

I did all I could for her, and I am pleased to say that after several months 
of intense treatment, she has an excellent chance to lead a fairly normal 
life. I could not repair the damage to her body, but I think I have been 
able to help her rebuild her mind. 

 CASE HISTORY SEVEN 

SUBJECT: Bobbie K. AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Many times, involvement with sado-masochism can begin at a very tender age. 
Even before some people are out of their teens, their twisted, savage 
desires can be well perfected. It can be rather startling to deal with a 
subject such as this, and Bobbie K. was one such girl. 

She was a full-bodied, well-endowed young girl whose figure and bearing made 
her appear older than her years. It was only after one listened to the youth 
in her voice and noticed her baby fat that it was realized how young she 
truly was. 

She was brought to me by her mother, a pretty woman whose face showed the 
anguish she had been going through over her child. At first Bobbie refused 
to talk to me, but once I assured her that everything she told me would be 
strictly confidential, she began to open up and tell me her story. 

* * * 

I know you're going to think I'm weird, but I might as well tell you right 
from the start, that I've always liked hurting things, Doctor. Even as a 
little kid I used to beat the hell out of my dolls and cut them up with 
knives, pretending they were real people. 

I never really knew why I did this, nor did I ever really think I would do 
these things in real life. I guess I just didn't know myself and what I 
liked until recently. 

I like pain, too. That I discovered when I was very young, also. The first 
time my mother spanked me for something I did, I cried like hell, but only 
because I was afraid and didn't understand a spanking. Where her hand 
cracked down on my bottom, the pain didn't make me feel bad, it made me feel 
nice. 

After that, I didn't mind it a bit when she would smack me, though I never 
went out of my way looking for it. I don't think that she ever realized I 
enjoyed the spankings. I guess she just thought I was a tough little lady. 

As I said, it wasn't until the last year that I started putting things 
together about myself. I found out about sex and after talking with my girl 
friends, I began to realize that the kinds of sensations they felt when 
kissing and petting with boys, were exactly what I felt when I was getting 
hit, or torturing some animal. 

I once dropped a bunch of kittens in a water tank and watching them struggle 
wildly to get free, each of them drowning in turn made me have my first 
orgasm. I didn't know what happened, I just knew that I was rubbing the hell 
out of my crotch, really enjoying their helpless position. 

But last year was when it really all began, last year I met Susan. Susan is 
a nice girl, a little too nice, in fact, for her own good. She isn't very 
pretty, though she has an okay body. It was her breasts that first attracted 
me to her. 

I liked her big boobs, and after reading a lot of dirty books I stole from 
some of the boys I knew, I began to think about all the tortures I read 
about in them. One thing I really got off on was when somebody would hang up 
a girl by her tits. 

I really liked that idea, and I decided I wanted to try it out. I wanted to 
try both being hung up and hanging somebody else up. 

It seemed like a wild idea, and I got goose bumps all over, just thinking 
about it. 

Now Susan wanted to be my friend so bad she could taste it. She seemed to be 
willing to do anything I asked, if I would only like her, and I kept pushing 
her further and further to see how far she would go. 

Since we live in the country, the teachers have a lot more power in our 
school, and that means they can punish us severely if they want to. I told 
Susan to take a licking one time, just to see if she would, and she went 
right ahead and did it. 

The teacher spanked her right in front of the class, and I actually had a 
climax watching him smack her behind with a fat ruler, knowing that it was 
because of me that she was getting hit. 

A few days later, she was over at my house, visiting and I decided to see if 
she would do what I wanted her to. I took her out to the barn, explaining 
that I had something that I wanted to show her. 

She had grown a little scared of me, recently, but was so eager to please me 
that she swallowed her fear and followed me out to the bam. There's lots of 
hooks and pulleys in there for feed and things, and it's the perfect place 
for little experiments like I wanted to conduct. 

I had devised my own little instrument, copying the ideas from a couple of 
books I read. I had it hidden in the tool shed, behind a lot of junk that 
nobody ever bothered with, and once we got to the barn, I dug it out. 

It was an elaborate devise, composed of a long, iron bar to which I had 
fastened a series of fish hooks dangling from tough, nylon wire. You could 
pull in a three hundred pound fish on this wire, so I knew it would support 
her weight. 

Nobody was home that afternoon. My father and mother had gone for the day, 
and my two older brothers were off on business. Susan and I were completely 
alone on the farm, and I was certain that no one would see or hear us. 

"What are we going to do, Bobbie?" Susan asked me. She was scared to death 
and I could tell she didn't like being out there one bit. 

"Take it easy," I said casually, moving around behind her. "You're gonna 
like this, honestly! Now just hold still while I tie your hands and feet!" 

I wrapped some strips of leather around her wrists and ankles, tying the 
knots as tightly as I could. When I finished with her ankles, I slipped a 
hook through her bound wrists and legs and pulled the ropes tight, so she 
couldn't move. 

She was leaning forward a bit, shivering with growing fear, just as I wanted 
her too. I debated on whether I should show her the torture device before 
blindfolding her, or not, and decided on masking her eyes first. 

I figured this would increase the pain and fear greatly, for if she did not 
know what was coming, the first stab would be devastating. 

"What... what happens now, Bobbie?" Susan whispered fearfully. "I'm scared, 
Bobbie, and my arms are starting to hurt!" 

I picked put the iron bar and attached it to another bar connected to a 
chain hanging from the ceiling. I brought the device over to where she was 
and reached out, unbutton her blouse as I spoke to her. 

"You're going to suffer for me, slave," I whispered passionately. She gasped 
as she felt me spread apart her blouse and unhook her bra, bearing her big, 
soft boobs. "You gonna make me happy with your screams!" 

"Ohh, Bobbie, please, please don't do that," she stammered as I squeezed her 
tits. "You shouldn't to that Bobbie, it isn't right!" 

"Silence you stupid pig," I hissed, taking one of the fish hooks and driving 
it into her boob. She screamed in pain and shock, jerking wildly against her 
bonds. 

"Ohh, Jesus, Bobbie, what'd you do?" she screamed". "Take it out, it hurts! 
Stop it, Bobbie, please stop it!" 

I laughed in my cruelest tone of voice and drove another fish hook into her 
other breast. Now she was really terrified and in a bad amount of pain. She 
swayed from left to right on the two hooks that secured her in her position, 
desperately trying to escape the awful pain she was experiencing. 

"You're going to take it for me, slave," I laughed again, driving another 
hook into her left boob, then another into her right. "You're going to 
scream in agony for my pleasure, you worthless scum!" 

I was pretending to be a Mistress in one of the books I had read, and 
enjoying every second of it. Susan kept trying to get away from the hooks, 
but it was hopeless for her, it wasn't any trouble for me at all to keep 
puncturing her tits with the long, curved barbs. 

My fingers were getting slippery from the blood that was coming from her 
breasts, now, and I licked them clean with my tongue. The taste of her blood 
excited me all the more and I forced more and more of the hooks into her 
flesh until I had at least half a dozen firmly embedded in either breast. 

Poor Susan was beside herself with pain and terror, sobbing and choking as 
she cried, the blindfold over her eyes already soaked with her tears. She 
snuffled and moaned, pleading with me to stop. 

"Ohh, Bobbie, Bobbie, don't," she moaned. "Please, it hurts, ohhh, God, it 
hurts too much! Don't do this to me, Bobbie, don't!" 

I laughed again, completely ignoring her pleas for mercy, now. I was 
trembling with excitement as I stepped back from her, inspected the barbs 
driven into her chest, then nodded in satisfaction. 

"You are going to pay the price of what I desire, bitch," I growled at her, 
really involved in the role I was playing, now. "You are going to entertain 
me with your pain until I am completely consumed!" 

I began to pull on the chain that hung from the ceiling and slowly it tugged 
on the barbs, pulling her tits upward. She screamed in agony, her voice 
tortured and weak with pain and I pulled harder on the chain until she was 
stretched taut against the hooks at her wrists and ankles. 

Quickly I released those and then returned to the chain and pulled on it 
rapidly, drawing her up form the floor, now, supported only by the fish 
hooks embedded in her big, round breasts. 

Jesus, did she ever scream. She hung there kicking back and forth, froth 
coming from her mouth she was in such panicked agony. She sobbed and 
shuddered, the flesh of her tits stretched so taut that I could see the 
veins pumping wildly beneath her damaged skin. 

"Bobbie, Bobbie, let me down," she screamed. "My boobs are going to be torn 
to ribbons, ohhh, dear Jesus, let me down!" 

I took a long pole and poked at her ribs, slowly forcing her dangling body 
to spin back and forth. "Suffer, bitch, suffer for your Mistress!" I cackled 
savagely. "Hurt you scum, hurt for me now!" 

Jesus, she was hurting all right. The blood was pouring from the wounds the 
hooks had made and was running down over her stomach in bright, red rivers. 
A couple of the sharp barbs had already torn through her flesh and when I 
poked her again, hard, another one came free. 

She screamed wildly, gagging as the vomit began to come up from her belly 
and bubble over her lips. She moaned and shuddered, twisting the barbs in 
her flesh even more, and I stood there watching, my cunt on fire from the 
excitement of watching her in agony. 

As she rocked back and forth on the hooks, her body jerking violently with 
the pain she was going through, the blood dripping steadily from her wounds, 
I continued to jab at her with the pole and hiss at her cruelly. 

"I love to watch you suffer, bitch," I said coldly. "I love your pain. Come 
on, pig, scream! Scream some more, for your Mistress, beg, you bitch, beg!" 

"Ohh, dear Jesus, Please, Mistress, please," she sobbed. "I can't stand it, 
Mistress, I can't! It hurts too much, ohhh God, it hurts too much!" 

I stood there, my cunt pounding feverishly, not even needing my hand to urge 
it on, now. I could feel the climax building and building in my pit, getting 
hotter and wetter with every one of her sobbing cries. 

I poked her with the pole, ruthlessly, delighting in her screams and 
involuntary spasms of savage pain. I knew she was going through a living 
hell and I was enjoying it completely. She continued to wail and moan and my 
orgasm suddenly exploded in my cunt, so hot and powerful that I had to lean 
against a beam just to remain upright as it tore through me. 

I shuddered uncontrollably, my face beaming I am sure. It was the nicest 
climax I had ever had, and I was sure that it was because of the pain I was 
putting poor Susan through. I watched her dangle and turn slowly back and 
forth for awhile longer, just standing there with the lingering remains of 
my orgasm still tingling in my pussy, completely content to watch her suffer 
until I was completely drained of all my throbbing passion. 

The hour was almost up at this point, so I interrupted Bobbie in her story 
and suggested she return the following afternoon. She did not seem to be 
upset at having to stop, nor did she appear to be at all disturbed by what 
she had told me. 

She left my office, I shook my head, trying to remember when I had ever met 
anyone so young and so completely unconcerned by her actions. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When she returned the following afternoon, Bobbie was dressed in a short 
skirt and loose flowing blouse that hid little of her nubile charms. I might 
have been distracted by her youthful beauty, had it not been for the horror 
story she continued telling to me. 

She sat on the couch, crossed her shapely legs and began, speaking in an 
almost monotone voice, completely unaffected by what she had done, it 
appeared to me. 

* * * 

I left her hanging for a little while longer, I guess I just couldn't bring 
myself to end her torture that suddenly. I had never been so completely 
turned on and excited in my life, and I hated to put a stop to it. 

But after a few more minutes, I realized she couldn't take much more, and if 
she passed out or something, it wouldn't be any fun watching anyway. I 
slowly lowered the sobbing girl to the floor, placing her on her back and 
gently removed the fish hooks from her torn flesh. 

I had to fight off the urge to tear them free, and I was shaking with 
excitement as I eased each cruel barb out of her boobs. I finally got the 
last one out and she moaned softly as I cut the leather thongs from her 
wrists and ankles. 

I pulled the blindfold from her eyes and she blinked, sniffling and wiping 
the tears from them with the back of her numb hand. Her lips were bleeding 
from where she had bitten them in agony and she stared at me, now, with an 
obvious mixture of fear and absolute hatred. 

"What... what have you done to me?" she sobbed, gazing down at her breasts, 
covered with a coating of her own blood. "Ohh, dear God you've ruined me, 
ruined me, you vicious monster!" 

I slapped her a couple of times to calm her down and dabbed at her torn 
flesh with a damp towel. "They aren't that bad," I grunted in disgust. 
"They'll heal as good as new, jerk!" 

She pushed me away, angrily, then, hissing at me as she struggled to her 
feet. "I'm getting out of here, you maniac," she gasped. "You're insane!" 

I laughed softly and shook my head. I smiled at her slyly and shook my head. 
"You really are a dope, you know?" I snorted. "I mean, you're really mad at 
me, now, aren't you? You're really like to get back at me, wouldn't you?" 

"I'd like to kill you," she growled, her eyes flashing angrily. "I'd like to 
make you suffer like you've done to me, you bitch!" 

"Then why are you leaving, idiot?" I said quietly. She blinked and stared at 
me confused. "Why are you walking away from the opportunity to do what you 
want?" 

I unbuttoned my blouse and dropped it to the dusty floor of the barn. 
Reaching behind my back, I unfastened my bra and let that drop also. My 
boobs felt alive and highly sensitive as I caressed them, lifting and 
squeezing them anxiously. 

"Come on, come on," I whispered urgently. "Hurt me you stupid bitch, I want 
to suffer as you have, I want to endure the same agony as you!" 

A slow, wicked smile came across her lips as she began to understand what I 
was saying to her. She forgot about her own pain, then and rubbed her palms 
together with increasing excitement. 

"Okay, you vicious slut," she hissed, quickly moving around behind my back 
and tying my wrists tight with the leather cord I offered her. "Now you're 
going to pay, you're going to pay dearly for what you did!" 

I gasped as she tightened the knots, then did the same with my ankles. My 
heart was beating fast as she moved over to the chain and hauled it up from 
the floor until the metal bar and blood spattered fish hooks were dangling 
at a level even with my heaving chest. 

"Oh boy am I going to hurt you, you bitch," she hissed wildly as she took 
one of the hooks and savagely drove it deep into the flesh of my right 
breast. 

I screamed as the sudden pain raced through me, making my legs go weak from 
the sheer shock and force of it. I hadn't expected it would hurt so badly, 
and when she drove another hook into my other tit, I almost fell to the 
floor from the sheer intensity of the pain I felt. 

"I'm going to make you suffer worse than me, you vicious scum," she growled. 
She jammed another hook into my right breast and I screamed even louder, 
rocking from left to right, fighting the urge to get sick from the pain. 

Methodically she inserted all the hooks into my tits, jamming them deep and 
hard into my flesh, laughing hysterically as I screamed and shuddered from 
the torture she was inflicting on me. 

"Go on and scream, you pig, I love it," she cackled harshly. "By the time I 
am done with you, you won't even know your name, bitch!" 

I nodded wildly. "Yes, ohhh, God, more, yes," I sobbed, the blood beginning 
to flow from my tits, the hooks twisting in my flesh as I shivered in place. 
"Ahhh, it hurts so good, so marvelously good!" 

"Shut up, you worthless pig," she growled at me. She slipped another hook 
into my right tit, then pushed the last one into my left. All the hooks were 
embedded in my boobs, now, and she stepped back, sneering cruelly at me. 

"Now you're going to pay for it," she growled coldly. "Now you're going to 
suffer just like I did, you pig! Now you're going to make me happy with your 
screams!" 

She went to the long, heavy chain and began to tug on it. Slowly the bar 
rose up and over my head and the hooks began to pull on my flesh, dragging 
my tits upward. I screamed as the fierce, overwhelming pain raced through 
me, and the rising bar began to pull me up off the floor by my impaled 
breasts. 

Jesus, the pain was more than I could believe. All the spankings I had ever 
had couldn't compare with this exquisite agony. I jerked spasmodically as my 
feet left the floor and the full weight of my body began to drag down on my 
tits. 

Higher and higher I rose, every inch a new and more powerful torture to my 
aching globes. It felt as if a million sharp needles were tearing into me, 
or a dozen saws were carving on my ravaged boobs. 

God, I loved the pain. My cunt was getting wetter all the time, throbbing 
almost in rhythm with the rolling agony that was tearing through me. I felt 
completely at home with the agony, as if my whole life had been building up 
to this harsh, cruel moment of overwhelming pain. 

I know that sounds like crazy, fantastic talk. I don't care. I have done a 
lot of reading and I know what I felt like. If you have never felt the kind 
of pain I have you can't begin to understand it at all, Doctor. 

My breasts were on fire with the pain. The blood was pumping from my wounds, 
pouring out around the fish hooks and my only regret was that I could not 
taste it on my tongue. 

Susan yanked on the chain savagely. She did not 'really understand how 
wonderful it felt to me, she was too caught up in her own lust to injure me 
to realize that I was enjoying it. 

I screamed and sobbed, but only because the pain was so intense that I could 
not help myself. My eyes were blinking rapidly, the sweat pouring from my 
forehead and stinging them continuously. 

"How do you like it, bitch?" she laughed cruelly. "How do you like hanging 
from your boobs, you vicious cunt! Does it hurt, bitch, does it?" 

"Ohh, dear God, yes, Susan, ummm, yes," I moaned, jerking violently as a new 
spasm of delicious agony ripped through my breasts. "Ahhh, I love it, Susan, 
I love it so much! Use the pole, Susan, make me turn!" 

The girl couldn't believe I was enjoying this. She growled fiercely and 
picked up the pole, then jammed it hard against my side. I screamed as I 
began to twist, forcing the hooks to cut and jab deeper into my skin. 

I felt one pulling free of my flesh, slicing through me viciously, and I 
wailed in pain, thrilled by the total agony it gave me, then. The pain never 
abated, but grew and grew, getting worse and worse with each passing second. 

I had never felt so marvelously bad in my life and I sobbed in delight as 
the horrible sensations became more and more consuming, now. I did not fight 
the pain, of course, but went down into it, eager to endure as much of it as 
I could stand. 

Ruthlessly, now, Susan jabbed the long pole at me. She made my body twist 
and turn with much more force than I had hers, and I was certain my agony 
was far worse than anything she had felt. 

She grew more fevered with her attack, as if she was determined to make me 
suffer to the point of unconsciousness. Each time she banged the pole into 
me, shifting my body from left to right against the embedded hooks, the pain 
leaped with new intensity in my breasts and I cried out again. 

"Ohh, Jesus, yes, more, I love it, yes," I sobbed, gasping as she rammed the 
pole hard into my belly. "Ummm, Susan thank you, it hurts so wonderfully, 
thank you, thank you, thank you!" 

She watched in horror and fascination as I began to shiver and moan with the 
growing force of an orgasm in my cunt. The pain was making my pussy throb 
with pleasure, was making the desire surge violently in my pit. 

I moaned and trembled on the ends of the hooks, feeling the delicious 
pounding in my inner chamber, the slowly building pleasure spreading through 
me. The pain grew more and more feverish, and I could no longer see anything 
but a strange, swirling mixture of colors in front of my eyes. 

I hung there, sobbing and gasping, my whole body on fire with agony and 
delight. The ecstasy I was feeling is beyond description. I can only tell 
you Doctor, that I had never dreamed of such powerful sensations before, and 
I was eagerly allowing them to consume and overwhelm me, now. 

I forgot about everything at that point. I no longer knew Susan was there, I 
no longer cared about anything but the wonderful, driving pain that had 
taken hold of me. My boobs felt scalded with boiling oil, my cunt burning 
with passion and I knew that I was drifting away into the most intense 
experience I had ever imagined. 

"Damn you, bitch, damn you," hissed Susan from somewhere far away from my 
mind. "You love this, don't you? You really love this, don't you, you pig?" 

I laughed in delight and nodded my head wildly. "Yes, yes, I love it, yes," 
I screamed, feeling the orgasm and the pounding hurt join and explode in my 
flesh. "Ohhh, God, I love it, yes!" 

Jesus, the climax made me jerk so wildly on the hooks that three more of 
them were torn loose from my breasts. I sobbed and shivered as the ecstasy 
raced through me, and I gave myself completely to my release. 

I don't know how long it lasted. The next thing I knew, I was back down on 
the floor of the barn and Susan was removing the hooks from my aching 
breasts. She was crying, now, sobbing about how crazy we both were to do 
such things. 

I suppose I should have realized what a danger she was then, but I just 
wasn't thinking clearly. I made my mistake with her, she couldn't understand 
my passions and I should have known she would break down and reveal what we 
had done, sooner or later. 

It really doesn't matter though. I'll find another Susan. I'm only sixteen 
and I'll be free of my parents soon, then nothing will be able to stop me 
from giving and getting the pain that I desire. Nothing, do you hear me, 
nothing! 

CONCLUSION 

This was about the only point in the two interviews that Bobbie showed any 
trace of emotion at all to me. She was fiercely determined about what she 
was going to do and I realized she needed help at once. 

She laughed at all my suggestions that she seek treatment, and told me I was 
the sick one, not her, for being so afraid of such forbidden pleasures. I 
made a decision then and there to try and convince her parents to have her 
committed. 

I hate to do this to anyone, especially a girl as young as Bobbie, but it 
was all clear to me, that any other suggestion on my part would only lead to 
disaster later on. 

She must be treated for this desire to be hurt and to hurt others. It is far 
too dangerous to be left untreated. Without help, she will surely destroy 
herself one day, perhaps taking others with her. 

 CASE HISTORY EIGHT 

SUBJECT: Maureen F. Age: Twenty-Seven 

INTERVIEW ONE 

When Maureen F. entered my office, I could tell at once that she was very 
disturbed. She worked for a firm that sold exercise equipment, some of which 
I had bought through her myself. I was surprised to see her and tried to 
keep things light as I offered her a seat beside my desk. 

She preferred the couch, she told me and lay down on it, folding her slim 
but strong fingers behind her bed. She confessed that she had hesitated in 
coming to see me a number of times, but finally had to out of desperation. 

Maureen is a healthy, attractive young woman, and she was wearing a tight 
halter top and brief pair of shorts, giving me all the view I needed of her 
firm, attractive breasts and long, shapely legs. 

I sat down in the chair behind the couch - and told her to begin, trying to 
put her at ease, for I sensed that whatever was bothering her, would take a 
great deal of courage to be told. 

* * * 

Well, Doctor, you know me, I try and take everything in stride. I mean, in 
my sort of business, you meet a number of strange people. The men that want 
to make passes at you while your demonstrating the equipment are usually the 
most normal of the freaks you have to deal with. 

But lately, I think I have had my share of weirdos, and what's worse, is how 
I am beginning to respond to them. I might as well tell your right now that 
I have become involved with a bit of S and M over the past few weeks and I 
am beginning to worry about myself. You see, I kind of like it. 

It all started with this guy named Walter. He owns a big publishing firm on 
the street and he comes on like the coolest, most put together person you 
could ever hope to meet. When you first meet him, you think he's got it all 
together, well, believe me, he doesn't. 

Now, you know the equipment I sell. It's purpose is to get people in shape, 
believe me, I know how dangerous some of it is, but I never once considered 
the idea that some of it could be used for torture. 

This guy Walter really loved the stuff I showed him. He signed up to have a 
whole gym built in one room of his building. I thought I had really sold him 
on getting healthy and that made me feel good, boy was I ever wrong. 

When we got all the equipment in there and hooked up, naturally he wanted me 
to help him test all of it out. This didn't bother me, after all, I had sold 
him on it, and even if he made a pass or two, well I knew I could handle 
that. 

Anyway, I saw from the beginning that that wasn't exactly what he had in 
mind. He wanted me to try out the steam box first, so I slipped inside of 
it, wearing my body suit, of course and told him how to turn the steam on. 

After a few moments, me talking to him all the time, explaining how the box 
worked, it began to grow warmer. I didn't think anything about it, I just 
went on talking, until I noticed him turning up the dial. 

"Don't do that," I said, shaking the moisture from my forehead. "It can be 
very dangerous to turn it up too high, you could get burned." 

He turned and smiled at me coldly. "You mean you could get burned," he 
chuckled a bit coldly. He slipped a broom handle through the latches on the 
doors of the small cabinet and turned the dial even higher. 

I thought he was playing some kind of joke. Lots of guys did things like 
that, once a guy wouldn't let me out of a box before I promised to date him, 
so I figured that was what he was up to. 

"Getting warmer," he said softly, laughing again. "Is it heating up nicely 
in there, Maureen, hmm?" 

"Okay wise guy," I hissed. I began to push on the doors, but the handle held 
them shut. "Let me out of here buster, before I start screaming or 
something." 

"Ahh, that's what I'm looking for," e whispered softly. He bent over and 
peered into my eyes. "I want to hear you screaming, Maureen, that's why I 
locked you in there, don't you see?" 

"If this is a way to get me to go out with you, it won't work," I growled at 
him, burning my hands, now on the steel doors. "So you might as well forget 
that." 

He turned the dial all the way up, now, and the heat began to roar like a 
furnace inside the tiny chamber. "Who wants a date, Maureen?" he said, 
shaking his head. "I have more interesting things on my mind!" 

Jesus, it began to really heat up in that thing. I was sweating wildly and 
beginning to get a little frightened. I had to constantly keep moving away 
from the walls, they were growing so hot, and even the wooden stool I was 
sitting on began to grow warmer and warmer. 

"Hey, please, Walter, stop kidding around," I gasped, my lungs heaving with 
the effort it took to breathe. "Come on, let me out, it's getting to warm in 
here!" 

"I want to hear you begging me, Maureen," he cooed, delicately wiping the 
sweat from my brow with his handkerchief. "I want to hear your screaming for 
mercy! You see, I have great plans for us!" 

This guy was really off his rocker, I thought. I gulped and swallowed and it 
hurt to do that. The seat was now too hot to sit on and when I rose up, my 
shoulders touched the hot metal top of the cabinet and I screamed in pain. 

The metal was so hot now, that it burned me every time I moved and my feet 
were beginning to burn through my sneakers. I sobbed as I twisted from left 
to right, screaming again each time I pressed my flesh against the scalding 
metal. 

"That's good, Maureen, that's very good," he chuckled savagely. "But, 
perhaps you need to experience the chamber more completely, hum. Come on, 
get down in there!" 

He started slapping me brutally on my face, pushing down on my head, forcing 
it back through the hole at the top of the cabinet. I choked and gasped, 
then felt his fist slam into my temple and his hands ruthlessly push me down 
inside. 

. 

I slipped on the floor and my buttocks and back slammed against the metal. 
Instantly I was burned and I screamed as the harsh pain raced along my skin. 
I panicked then, kicking and punching at the door, frantically, my body 
banging against the walls uncontrollably, now. 

The heat was so intense in there that I couldn't breathe and I was gasping 
and choking wildly, then, shuddering and terrified that I was going to die. 
I screamed and banged on the walls, more and more of my flesh becoming 
seared by the steaming walls, but all I heard was his laughter from outside. 

It felt as if the walls were closing in on me and I fell down again, my 
bottom scalded by the floor and my mind spinning wildly. I thought I was 
passing out and I tried desperately to stay awake, horrified by what would 
happen to me if I allowed my flesh to lay upon the steaming metal. 

The next thing I knew, he was hauling me out of the chamber, slapping and 
kicking me across the floor. "Come on, you worthless bitch, move it," he was 
barking. I felt his foot drive into my burned behind, shoving me forward 
onto my face. 

I was in a bit of a daze and hardly realized it as he began to tear at my 
body suit with his fingers. I thought he was trying to rape me and I fought 
back wildly and he ripped the tight-fitting shirt down to my waist and 
yanked savagely on the leotards I was wearing. 

I felt him dragging the garment off of me, my sore bottom bouncing along the 
floor, my exposed breasts swaying as he pulled me toward him. He yelped with 
glee as the leotard came off my toes, then he reached down and grabbed a 
handful of my hair, hauling me to my feet. 

"Come on, you worthless little scum," he growled, shoving me over toward the 
muscle stretcher. "I'm not through with you yet, bitch!" 

I was totally confused. He threw me down on my stomach and tightened the 
straps of the machine on my wrists and ankles, then fit the tight band over 
the base of my spine. I lay there moaning, hardly realizing he didn't intend 
to rape me at all. 

The muscle stretcher is designed to move the spinal cord back and forth, 
massaging it gently. The machine has various speeds, from quite slow to 
super fast, though you aren't supposed to use the top speed ever. 

I tried to come back to my senses and I moaned softly, shuddering against 
the tight straps that held me in. He flicked on the machine and slowly the 
motor moved the bar back and forth, flexing my spine. 

"Ahh, this ought to be very interesting," Walter chuckled. "There is so much 
we can do in here, so much fun we can have with all this equipment!" 

"Walter, I... please, I need a Doctor, I'm hurt," I whispered. I moaned 
against the dull ache of the bar moving against my spine. "Let me up, 
please, I won't say anything about this, just let me up." 

"Let you up," he laughed cruelly again. He reached over and turned the speed 
up half way. "Hell, baby, I'm just beginning! I want to see how you react to 
this!" 

The machine picked up speed, jerking my spine back and forth more violently, 
now, jarring my back bones severely. If you ever landed on your ass after a 
bad fall, you can imagine what it felt like. Only this was ten times worse 
and kept repeating itself every few moments. 

I screamed as my spine slammed together, then drew far apart. It felt like 
two, strong horses were tugging on either end of me, jerking on my body with 
increasing violence and force. 

"Come on, that's nothing," Walter laughed another time. "Now we get into the 
real fun, now we really give that back of yours a going over!" 

He turned the speed up to three-quarters high and the machine began to move 
more violently. It slammed me back and forth at an unbelievable rate, 
jerking and yanking on my spine with a savage power. 

The pain shot from my_ tail bone to my brain and I screamed in agony, 
rocking back and forth in the grip of the machine. I sobbed and cried out, 
terrified even more now that I realized that sex wasn't what was on his 
mind. 

Faster and" faster the machine went, my body felt drawn and pulled way 
beyond anything I had ever felt before. Each movement of the motor sent 
unbearable jarring pain racing through my bones, pounding me relentlessly. 

I was pushed and pulled at an incredible rate of speed. I screamed at him to 
stop, to please let me go, but he shook his head savagely and turned the 
motor up to full speed, now, grinning viciously in delight. 

The whir of the motor was matched only by my cries of agony as the machine 
worked harder and harder. Walter's smiling face became a blur as my spine 
cracked and slammed together again and again. 

I sobbed and shuddered, twisting and turning in a helpless attempt to 
escape. My wrists and ankles were scraped and raw, bleeding from my efforts 
and my back felt like it would snap in two at any moment. 

Walter was laughing insanely, now, completely enjoying the torture he was 
putting me through. "Jesus, I'll bet that hurts, I'll bet it does," he 
cackled loudly. "Ohh boy, scream, baby, scream you stupid cunt!" 

Faster and harder the machine slammed me together. I could not see any 
longer for the blinding pain and my body felt as if it were being crushed in 
the hands of a murderous giant. I begged and pleaded with Walter, but he 
just shook his head and bellowed at me to suffer. 

I heard snaps and cracks in my back and I was sure my spine would be broken 
at any moment. I could no longer hold on to the sides of the machine, could 
no longer fight it, and I just lay there, jerking and flexing in its 
control. 

Suddenly Walter eased the speed down on the machine and slowly turned it 
off. I was paralyzed, unable to move, and when he pulled off the straps and 
yanked me off the table, the sudden, jolting pain was so fierce that I 
roared in agony and fell to the floor, sobbing and clutching at my damaged 
spine. 

"Come on, get on your feet, you lazy slut," he growled at me. He kicked me 
brutally in the ribs and I gagged, fighting to keep from getting sick. 
"What's the matter, bitch, too much for you?" 

God, Doctor, I could not even move. I felt as if I had been stepped on or 
something, and I could hardly think straight. I lay there, moaning, trying 
desperately to regain my strength before he came up with some new kind of 
fun to entertain himself. There are plenty of things in a gym, you know, and 
I didn't want to imagine what he had in mind, next. 

* * * 

Maureen shook her head violently, then, and asked me if she could rest for a 
moment. I offered her the small couch I have in the room behind my office, 
that I use for just that purpose and she accepted it, gratefully. 

I gave her something for her head ache and sent out for coffee, while she 
went into the back room to compose herself and rest up for the next session 
we would have. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When Maureen came out of the room fifteen minutes later, she was more than 
composed. She appeared to be grimly intent on finishing her story as quickly 
as possible. I could see the determination in her eyes and I gave her a cup 
of coffee and had her sit down on the couch again. 

Without wasting any words, she picked up her story right where she had left 
off. 

* * * 

Well, Doctor, you can well imagine how flipped out I was over this. I didn't 
know what to think. I saw him slipping on a pair of boxing gloves, then and 
I shook my head, and raced for the door. 

He beat me to it, laughing in delight. "It's locked anyway, bitch," he 
hissed, driving his left fist hard into my belly. "But that's not important, 
is it? You'd better defend yourself, honey, I'm a good puncher!" 

This was almost too much for me to believe, but when his right fist banged 
into my cheek, knocking me hard against the wall, I could tell he was 
serious. I moved backward, trying to avoid the blows, but he knew exactly 
how to fight. 

He was toying with me, slamming a jab against my forehead to get my hands 
up, then driving a fist hard into my belly when it was exposed. 

He didn't try and knock me out, he was having too much fun slamming me 
around. I ducked away from his right and he punched me hard on the nose. I 
heard the bone crack as the pain broke in front of my eyes, and in a few 
seconds I could taste my blood on my tongue from my broken nose. 

"Come on, slut, defend yourself," he hissed angrily. He slapped me a few 
times on the cheek, taping me back and forth with both hands. "Come on, you 
little tramp, you're not trying hard at all!" 

Doctor, I was frightened to death. The bastard had already broken my nose 
and he was steadily working on my right eye, closing it more and more with 
each punch that he landed. 

I couldn't get away from him, and I couldn't fight back very well, either. I 
was stumbling on the floor, slipping against the equipment, completely at a 
loss as to what I could do to save myself. 

He was having a grand time, now. He kept peppering me with rights and left, 
knocking me back and forth until my lips were swollen and bleeding and my 
cheeks a mass of ugly, purple bruises. 

He loved the sight of my blood and bore into me now, hitting me harder and 
harder, each punch more solid than the last. He slammed a fist hard into my 
belly again and as I bent over, drove another into my temple. 

I moaned, blinking at the blinding pain, and slipped to the floor, 
completely drained of all strength and energy. He stood over me, laughing 
softly, flicking his gloved hand at my head. 

"Come on, cunt, get up," he growled. "Come on, the fun is just starting, you 
silly bitch! Get up before I start kicking you!" 

I looked up at his crotch, then, and threw a wild punch that grazed his 
groin. He yelped in pain, falling against the wall and holding his crotch. 
His face was twisted with pain, but I knew I hadn't hurt him that much. 

Desperately I got to my feet and glanced around the room. There was only one 
door and he had the key, so I was trapped. But then I noticed the rack of 
fencing swords hanging on the wall and I raced over to them, grabbing one 
and ripping the rubber tip off the end. 

"Give me that key, you son of a bitch," I hissed as I advanced on him. "Give 
me it or I'll cut a hole in you, now." 

He pulled off the gloves, nodding wildly and I thought I had him. But then 
he threw them at me and raced over to the rack, pulled down a sword and 
ripped the rubber tip of the end, too. 

He was smiling wickedly, thinking, I suppose, that he was really going to 
have some fun, now. What he didn't know, was that I was All-State Fencing 
Champion in college and now I had my chance to turn the tables. 

He leaped awkwardly at me with his blade and I parried, swirling around and 
slicing cleanly at his turning buttocks. He yelped in pain and shock and put 
his hand down to the rip. When he pulled it away again, his palm was wet 
with blood. 

"Now you prick," I hissed coldly. "Now we're going to see what fun is!" 

Jesus, I was keyed up. All my experience came back to me then and I pushed 
into the attack, darting and slashing at him savagely. It didn't take him 
very long to see he was out-classed, either. 

I jabbed and sliced, driving him steadily backward. I loved the sound of his 
painful cries as I slit open his shirt and carved a four inch slash along 
his chest. He grew more and more terrified as I advanced, trying to defend 
himself with pathetic parrying blows that I easily fended off. 

I paused for a moment and growled at him. "Get your fucking clothes off, you 
asshole," I barked. "Let's get things equal here, right now!" 

- I could see that that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was so 
shook up that he pulled at his shirt and trousers, actually tearing the 
clothing from himself in fear of angering me more. 

His cock was a sorry sight indeed. It was dangling between his thighs and I 
flicked my blade at it harshly, nicking the tip of his head cleanly. He 
screamed in pain and clutched at his groin. 

"Ohh, Jesus, don't," he gasped. He started to back away and I advanced on 
him, whisking my blade back and forth through the air, the harsh, savage 
whistle it made, echoing loudly in the room. 

He screamed in terror now, dropped his own sword and began to run away from 
me. I stalked him slowly, each time I drew near, slicing a new wound in his 
flesh. I craved a long wide stripe across his buttocks, and I was actually 
thrilled to see the blood pouring out of the wound. 

I had him completely terrified now. He no longer thought of defending 
himself, only getting away from me. It was a pleasure just taking my time, 
following his frightened, naked body around the room, slashing my blade at 
him at will. 

His ass and his shoulders were a criss-cross of wounds, now, and his chest 
hair was damp with his own blood. His legs bore the marks of my sword and 
the head of his prick dripped blood where I had wounded him. 

He fell down on his knees in front of the door, now, pulling and twisting on 
the knob, sobbing and crying uncontrollably. I took my time drawing close to 
him, pausing long enough to pull on my leotards again and tighten my 
raincoat around my waist. 

He was staring at me, the fear wild in his eyes, as I bent down over his 
pants and searched his pockets for the key to the door. He gulped 
frantically as he watched me, sweat and blood pouring from him, now. 

"Please, please don't hurt me anymore," he whispered urgently as I began to 
walk toward him. "Ohh, God, Maureen, I'm... I'm sorry, don't hurt me, 
please!" 

I motioned him up with the tip of my blade, flicking it under his chin. He 
shuddered and rose to his feet, trembling so violently that I didn't know 
how long he would be able to stand. 

"I ought to kill you, you lousy prick," I hissed coldly. I flicked the blade 
again. "Put up your hands, you bastard, over you head, now!" 

"Don't... don't kill me, please," he moaned, shutting his eyes tightly, 
shivering with the uncontrollable fear, now. 

"Oh, God, Maureen, don't kill me, please, please, don't!" he almost screamed 
in fear. "I beg you, don't!" 

I looked at him coldly, the laughter bubbling up in my chest as he cowered 
so fearfully at my feet, now. His naked body was a mixture of blood and 
sweat and his eyes were wide with fear. 

"Come here, pig," I hissed at him, waving the sword at him threateningly. 
"Come here and kiss the feet of your Mistress, scum!" 

He crawled across the floor toward me like a good dog should, and I stood 
quite still as he approached, the tip of the blade touching the floor, one 
hand on my hip as I watched him grovel. 

I was feeling very alive at that moment, Doctor. Never in all my days had I 
felt such power. It was intoxicating to say the least and gave me a wild, 
thrilling sensation of victory that was far more pleasing than any other 
feeling I could remember. 

After having been used by him, and other men in my past, having been treated 
like a piece of meat for their pleasure, turning the tables on one of them 
was a delight, to say the least. I almost moaned with excitement, my loins 
burning with a fire that was far more powerful than any sexual feeling I had 
ever had. 

He crawled meekly, shivering with total fear until he reached my feet. I 
flicked the tip of the sword against his chin, nicking his flesh a bit and 
he moaned softly. 

"Lick the dirt from between my toes, pig," I hissed at him, coldly. "Clean 
my feet with your worthless tongue, and I might not hurt you too badly." 

He was eager to please me, now. To do anything to keep his worthless body 
from being hurt any more than it already was. I felt his tongue wandering 
over my dusty feet, licking the particles of dirt from them in a frantic 
manner. 

God, how marvelous it felt to have him so degraded and debased beneath me. I 
don't care what anyone says, to humiliate scum like that" is one of the most 
wonderful experiences anyone can ever have. 

I stood there, his tongue lathering my toes, an enticing tremor rippling 
through me, now, loving every second of it. I couldn't have cleaned my feet 
better than he did, if I had been soaking in a tub for hours! 

But I was not through with him yet. I had no intention of killing him, of 
course. I did not desire to go to prison or get in any kind of a fix over so 
jerk like that. I just wanted to teach him a lesson he would never forget. 

I wanted him to experience the ugly pain I felt at being used and degraded. 
I wanted him to remember what I did to him for the rest of his useless life. 
All I wanted was to destroy his smug ego. 

"What... what are you going to do with me, now?" he whispered softly, his 
voice filled with fear and worry. "Please, what are you going to do?" 

"Get up, pig," I growled, trying hard not to laugh at his begging tone of 
voice. "Get up on your feet and get against that wall, again!" 

He almost sobbed as he stood up. I smiled thinly at him, using all my 
control to keep from breaking into laughter at him. He was so frightened of 
me now, that I had to hold into the joyful amusement I had at his terror. 

"Spread your arms and legs wide, scum," I ordered as he stood against the 
wall. 

He sobbed and trembling violently, did as I commanded. I walked up to him, 
placed the tip of my blade against his ball bag and hissed at him savagely. 

"You are lucky I don't slice it off, pig," I growled. Then, as he began to 
sob in fear, I thrust the blade forward violently, driving it through his 
bag and pinned him to the wall. 

He screamed in fear and pain and clutched frantically at the imprisoning 
sword. I unlocked the door, then and nodded smugly, then closed it behind 
me, leaving him still pinned the wall, moaning in agony. 

Now I have had many opportunities to discipline thoughtless men in such a 
way, and I have really grown to like it. What I am wondering, is if that 
makes me sick or something. What do you think, Doctor? 

CONCLUSION 

While her story was quite amusing, and I did not blame her for her actions 
one bit, I told Maureen that such desires could get out of hand. I suggested 
she seek a little professional advice concerning her private thoughts, but 
assured her that on balance, I felt she was quite healthy in every way. 


GENERAL CONCLUSION 

Though we have studied eight cases of bizarre forms of sado-masochistic 
actions, we have really only touched the surface of the problem. The 
question remains. 

How much is too much, when does one go too far and cross over the barrier 
between harmless pleasure and actual destruction. It is difficult to see 
where to draw the line, but we have learned that pushed too far, these forms 
of entertainment can lead to total disaster. 

Carla W., so twisted that she was certain she could do nothing wrong. She 
will pay for it the rest of her life, if she lives that long. 

Mary S., shocked to discover her own hidden desire for punishment and abuse, 
only the most lengthy and intense treatment can even begin to bring her back 
to normal. 

Sylvia K., troubled and lonely, her aching desire to be touched and part of 
something led her to the twisted idea that pain was her only hope for 
pleasure. 

Marta M., a woman too deeply involved in her own sickness to ever escape it, 
all hope for her recovery is lost. 

And the others? Who can tell. S and M is a topic that must be studied much 
more than it has been, if we are to understand it. 


THE END
